In the court, he was sweating, but cold. It was bare, ghostly, and surrounded by buildings with broad, open doors into which he did not look as he sped across toward a gate that stood ajar. Outside, he breathed more freely. He was in a garden with trees and shrubbery, and these, even in the dark, are always friendly. There were avenues, but the ground had been upturned by his countrymen for buried treasure, and he could follow none. He turned across what had been a lawn, descending from terrace to terrace, burdened by the sense of being watched by the lurking stranger; nor paused until he had placed distance between himself and the unhallowed temple. Now he could hear the ripple of a stream, and knew that he was at the Huatenay; but kept on, looking for a stout bush he could have at his back, and with a vigilant outlook for the other tenant of the garden. He was now fully aware of his burns, but dared not remove a jambe to ease them. He seated himself presently, but after a minute’s rest the sensation of being under espionage became unendurable. It chafed him, and with the irritation of his burning feet and legs, roused a bloodthirsty desire to hunt the lurker and determine whether he was substance or shadow. He thought better of it. A few minutes, now, would bring him to the Amarucancha, and impatience pushed him on. He had gained the lowest terrace when the mysterious form appeared again, directly in his path, a hundred feet away. It rose as if out of the earth, retreated a few paces, and vanished into the shadow of the gully, leaving Cristoval in dismay. "_Santa Madre!_" he gasped, and stood irresolute, wishing with ardor for a crucifix. The figure was so wholly spectral that the thought of following it into the darkness started his courage oozing as quickly as it did the perspiration. Yet there was no help for it unless to return through the temple. The stout cavalier was in a wavering frame of mind. Then it stole over him that this shadowy creature was interposing between him and Rava. He sprang down the bank with an oath. Were it Satan himself he would dispute such hindrance.