door, and she made Dolores stand before the right hand panel, ready
to slip out, and once more she touched the hood to be sure it hid the
face. She listened a moment. A harsh and regular sound came from a
distance, resembling that made by a pit-saw steadily grinding its way
lengthwise through a log of soft pine wood.

"Eudaldo is asleep," said Inez, and even at this moment she could hardly
suppress a half-hysterical laugh. "I shall have to make a tremendous
noise to wake him. The danger is that it may bring some one else,---the
women, the rest of the servants."

"What shall we do?" asked Dolores, in a distressed whisper.

She had braced her nerves to act the part of her sister at the dangerous
moment, and her excitement made every instant of waiting seem ten times
its length. Inez did not answer the question at once. Dolores repeated
it still more anxiously.

"I was trying to make up my mind," said the other at last. "You could
pass Eudaldo well enough, I am sure, but it might be another matter if
the hall were full of servants, as it is certain that our father has
given a general order that you are not to be allowed to go out. We may
wait an hour for the man to wake."

Dolores instinctively tried the door, but it was solidly fastened from
the outside. She felt hot and cold by turns as her anxiety grew more
intolerable. Each minute made it more possible that she might meet her
father somewhere outside.

"We must decide something!" she whispered desperately. "We cannot wait
here."

"I do not know what to do," answered Inez. "I have done all I can; I
never dreamt that Eudaldo would be asleep. At least, it is a sure sign
that our father is not in the house."

"But he may come at any moment! We must, we must do something at once!"

"I will knock softly," said Inez. "Any one who hears it will suppose it
is a knock at the hall door. If he does not open, some one will go and
wake him up, and then go away again so as not to be seen."

She clenched her small hand, and knocked three times. Such a sound could
make not the slightest impression upon Eudaldo's sound sleep, but her
reasoning was good, as well as ingenious. After waiting a few moments,
she knocked again, more loudly. Dolores held her breath in the silence
that followed. Presently a door was opened, and a woman's voice was
heard, low but sharp.

"Eudaldo, Eudaldo! Some one is knocking at the front door!"

The woman probably shook the old man to rouse him,