take precautions.
And the first--as also the best I can think of--is to stay here till
we're spliced. One of our two Californian friends can act as a
messenger. Either, with six words I shall entrust to him, will be
certain to bring back an ecclesiastic, having full powers to perform the
flea-bite of a ceremony. Then we can march inland without fear--ay,
with flying colours; both Benedicts, our blushing brides on our arms,
and in Santiago spend a pleasant honeymoon."

"Delightful anticipation!"

"Just so. And for that very reason, we mustn't risk marring it; which
we might, by travelling as simple bachelors. So I say, let us get
married before going a step farther."

"But the others? Are they to assist at our nuptials?"

"Certainly not."

"In what way can it be avoided?"

"The simplest in the world. It's understood that we divide our plunder
the first thing in the morning. When that's done, and each has packed
up his share, I intend proposing that we separate--every one to go his
own gait."

"Will they agree to that, think you?"

"Of course they will. Why shouldn't they? It's the safest way for all,
and they'll see that. Twelve of us trooping together through the
country--to say nothing of having the women along--the story we're to
tell about shipwreck might get discredited. When that's made clear, to
our old shipmates, they'll be considerate for their own safety. Trust
me for making it clear. Of course we'll keep our Californian friends to
act as groomsmen; so that the only things wanted will be a brace of
bridesmaids."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughs Hernandez.

"And now to see about our brides. We've not yet proposed to them. We
went once to do that, and were disappointed. Not much danger of that
now."

"For all that, we may count upon a flat refusal."

"Flat or sharp, little care I. And it won't signify, one way or the
other. In three days or less I intend calling Carmen Montijo my wife.
But come on; I long to lay my hand and heart at her feet."

Saying which Gomez strides on towards the grotto, the other by his side,
like two Tarquins about to invade the sleep of virginal innocence.

CHAPTER SIXTY THREE.

WITHIN THE GROTTO.

Though the grotto is in darkness, its occupants are not asleep. To them
repose is impossible; for they are that moment in the midst of anguish,
keen as human heart could feel. They have passed through its first
throes, and are for the while a little calmer.