-seat and stepping into the carriage took the
place the women had just left.

He had a carbine in his hand, and after he was seated Langham handed
him another which he laid across his knees.

"They thought I was too conspicuous on the box to do any good there,"
he explained in a confidential whisper. "In case there is any firing
now, you ladies want to get down on your knees here at my feet, and
hide your heads in the cushions. We are entering Los Bocos."

Langham and Clay were riding far in advance, scouting to the right and
left, and the carriage moved noiselessly behind them through the empty
streets. There was no light in any of the windows, and not even a dog
barked, or a cock crowed. The women sat erect, listening for the first
signal of an attack, each holding the other's hand and looking at
MacWilliams, who sat with his thumb on the trigger of his carbine,
glancing to the right and left and breathing quickly. His eyes
twinkled, like those of a little fox terrier. The men dropped back,
and drew up on a level with the carriage.

"We are all right, so far," Clay whispered. "The beach slopes down
from the other side of that line of trees. What is the matter with
you?" he demanded, suddenly, looking up at the driver, "are you afraid?"

"No," the man answered, hurriedly, his voice shaking; "it's the cold."

Langham had galloped on ahead and as he passed through the trees and
came out upon the beach, he saw a broad stretch of moonlit water and
the lights from the yacht shining from a point a quarter of a mile off
shore. Among the rocks on the edge of the beach was the "Vesta's"
longboat and her crew seated in it or standing about on the beach. The
carriage had stopped under the protecting shadow of the trees, and he
raced back toward it.

"The yacht is here," he cried. "The long-boat is waiting and there is
not a sign of light about the Custom-house. Come on," he cried. "We
have beaten them after all."

A sailor, who had been acting as lookout on the rocks, sprang to his
full height, and shouted to the group around the long-boat, and King
came up the beach toward them running heavily through the deep sand.

Madame Alvarez stepped down from the carriage, and as Hope handed her
her jewel case in silence, the men draped her cloak about her
shoulders. She put out her hand to them, and as Clay took it in his,
she bent her head quickly and kissed his hand. "You were his friend,"
she murmured.

She