He lay a little apart from Appleby, and raised his head so that the moonlight shone into his face, which showed intent and anxious, when a palm frond rustled behind them. There was nothing astonishing in this, but when the rustle repeated itself it seemed to Appleby that there was something curiously persistent in the sound. He glanced at the Spaniard, who saw him, and raised one hand as if in warning. The sound ceased, and there was once more an impressive silence, which lasted for some minutes. Then Appleby felt Harper’s hand upon his shoulder. “Look!” he said in a hoarse whisper, and his comrade set his lips as he turned his head. A man who had appeared without a sound stood in the white road, his rigid figure forced up sharp and black against it, and it was evident that he was peering about him. Then, with a swiftness that had its significance, he slipped back into the shadow, and moved through it, stopping a second or two now and then as though to listen. Appleby could just see him, and felt a little shiver run through him, for he knew the loyalist scout was running a horrible risk. He hoped the man would see nothing, for the last thing the Sin Verguenza desired was to chance a rifle shot just then. He, however, came on, treading softly and stooping as though to observe the dew‐clogged dust, until he stopped again where a little pathway led in among the aloes. Then he straightened himself, looked behind him, and turning his head stared into the shadow of the palms that lay black and impenetrable beyond the aloes, while the moonlight shone down into his face. It showed white and set against the dusky background; and Appleby, who could see the intent eyes, held his breath, for he knew the man’s life hung trembling in the balance. One step would take him to his death, for another face that was drawn and haggard and had the stamp of hunger on it showed amidst the leaves behind him. The suspense lasted for a space of seconds, and Appleby felt himself quivering under the tension, until the man made a sudden movement as though something suspicious had caught his eyes. Then there was a rustle of leaves, a shadowy form sprang, and the scout went down; while Appleby, who saw a flash in the moonlight, turned his head away. He heard a strangled groan and a struggling amidst the leaves, and then there was once more an impressive silence. “Two dollars, senor!” said a dusky man breathlessly, as he came up to the Captain Maccario; and the Spaniard made a curious little gesture as he glanced at Appleby. “You can keep them. Drag him away!” he said in Castilian. “It is the fortune of war, Don Bernardino!” Appleby said nothing, but Harper turned to the officer. “The troops will not be far behind,” he said. “Will we get through?” Maccario shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows?” he said. “It is certain the cazadores come, but if they march past us the road is open. It is by misfortune we do not know how many there are of them.”