“’Tis true, you are my prisoner, or rather, let me say guest, and as such you must remain for a few weeks. I admit it is no personal feeling that causes me to retain you as such; you have never injured me or mine, and, indeed, I respect you highly, for I know who you are, and the high position you have always held during the few years you have been in our country. But I will be candid with you. I am to have fifty thousand dollars if you remain here six weeks, and that is a sum I should like to possess. I trust, however, that you will not feel like a prisoner, and I pledge myself that you shall be entertained to the best of my ability. Everything you wish you have but to name, and it shall be granted.” “I thank you, chief, for your kindness and hospitality, but I have only one desire at present, and that is my liberty. I am rich, or at least, my father is. He is now in this village, and I promise you that I will give you a check for fifty thousand dollars—the same sum that you have been promised for detaining me here—as soon as you place me in his presence.” “Your offer is very generous, Mr. Ellerton,” said the chief, after a few moments’ deliberation, “but I cannot accept it. My word is pledged to another, and no amount could tempt me to break that.” “My friends will surely institute a thorough search for me, and thus your retreat may be discovered, and yourselves routed, perhaps arrested,” returned Robert, deeply chagrined and disappointed that the smuggler refused to set him at liberty. A sneer half-curled the lip of the chief, but quickly repressing it, he politely replied: “I have no fears, my friend, on that score; for our fortress is of solid rock, with no crack or crevice to betray that there is aught within. Only those who are perfectly familiar with our secret openings can ever enter these vaults. There is but one in the wide world outside of our band, who has an inkling even of their existence; and he is not now in the country. He learned it through the carelessness of one of our pages; but I have no fear that he will ever trouble us.” “Who are the instigators of this foul wrong?” demanded Robert, hotly, hardly heeding the latter part of the chief’s speech. “That, also, I cannot reveal to you. You doubtless realize they are enemies,” he returned, not at all disturbed by Robert’s passion. “Well, then, will you tell me the motive which actuates it?” The chief did not reply at once. He sat absently sipping his coffee for a few minutes; then suddenly waving the pages from the room, he bent toward his guest, and said, in a low tone: