Bandit Love

With a gasp of relief, Myra darted out, negotiated the narrow crevice

which hid the door from view, and found herself in the open--and in

brilliant sunshine. She paused for a moment, to collect herself,

fancied she heard a noise behind her, and sped away like a startled doe.

There appeared to be no path, and she ran aimlessly and without the

slightest sense of direction, clambering over rocks and slithering down

slopes, several times narrowly escaping disaster, and once only

escaping from plunging headlong over a precipice by clinging

frantically to a boulder on the very verge. And the boulder, which

must have been balanced like a logan stone, went crashing over the side

of the precipice the moment she had released her hold on it and

recovered her equilibrium.

Although she had, as it were, been courting death, Myra was so

terrified that she could not proceed for several minutes, and she had

to muster up all her courage to negotiate the perilous path. After

that, she advanced with greater caution, and at last reached a little

grassy plateau, a sort of oasis amid the bleak rocks, commanding a

magnificent view of the mountain range and the country.

Far below her, Myra could see a twisted white ribbon--so it looked from

a distance--which she knew must be a road, and on the white ribbon were

ant-like moving objects which she knew must be horses and men--the

civil guard and the military, in all probability, seeking for her and

for "El Diablo Cojuelo."

"If only I can get to them, I shall be safe," said Myra aloud. "Oh, if

only I knew the easiest and quickest way down! I think I can see other

men climbing up as if they had seen me... I wonder if they have seen

me? I wonder if they could hear me if I called?" She had lost some of

her sense of proportion, forgotten how far away the men must be, and

she gathered her breath and shouted as loud as she could: "Help! help!"

Almost instantly there came an answering shout, but to Myra's

consternation the shout came from somewhere above her, and not from

below. She looked round and upwards, but at first could see no one,

then she heard the shout again, heard the voice of Don Carlos cry:

"Myra, where are you?" saw a head appear over the side of a rocky ledge

about fifty feet above her, and panic seized her again.

From the little plateau there ran for a distance a sort of natural

path, and down this Myra fled as fast as her feet would carry

her--which was not fast, for already her thin shoes were almost in

ribbons, and one foot had been badly cut by a sharp stone. But she was

scarcely conscious of the pain in her anxiety to escape.