"Then," continued the young leader, "next we must secure some means of communicating with the prisoners within the house. La Giralda will afford us that. The sentries must first be drawn off, then secured, and with one of us to accompany and guide the party, we must start off the great folk for the camp of General Elio at Vera, where, at least, their persons will be safe, and they will be treated honourably as prisoners of war." "And who is to accompany them?" inquired the Sergeant, his face like a mask. For he hated the thought that Munoz should escape a half-dozen Carlist bullets. Jose Maria the brigand, El Sarria the outlaw--even Cabrera the butcher of Tortosa were in the scheme of things, but this Munoz--pah! "This is what I propose," said Rollo. "Let no more than three horses be brought. So many can easily be hidden in the side gullies of the barranco. That will allow one for the Queen, one for Munoz, and whichever of us is chosen to accompany them can carry the little Princess before him as a guarantee for the good behaviour of the other two." "But which may that be?" persisted the Sergeant, with his usual determination to have his question answered. Rollo made a little sign with his hand as if he would say, "All in good time, my friend!" "Those of us who stay behind," he went on, "will take up such a position that we may stay the pursuit till the fugitives are out of reach. One thing is in our favour. You have heard the silly cackle of the camp about the escape of Concha. If I know her, she is on her way to warn Elio of the disgrace to the cause intended by Cabrera. In that case, we may, if we can hold out so long, hope to be rescued by an expeditionary party. Moreover, Elio will come himself, knowing full well that nothing but his presence as representative of Don Carlos will have power to move Cabrera from his purpose--that, or the menace of a superior force." "And who is to go with the Queen?" asked the Sergeant, for the third time. Rollo waited a moment, his glance slowly travelling round the group about the little camp-fire. "Let us see first who cannot go--that is the logical method," he answered, weighing his words with unaccustomed gravity. "For myself obviously I cannot. The post of danger is here, and I alone am responsible. Don Juan there and the Count are also barred. Etienne does not know the way, nor Mortimer the language. La Giralda is an old woman and weak. Sergeant Cardono and El Sarria--you two alone remain. What say you? It lies between you." "Go or stay--it is the same to me," said the Sergeant. "Only let me know." "I say the same!" echoed El Sarria. "Then we will settle it this way," said the young man. "Sergeant, whom have you in the world depending solely on you for love or daily bread?" A gleam, like lightning seaming a black cloud irregularly, for a moment transfigured the face of the ex-brigand of Ronda. "Thank God," he said, "there is now no one!"