ur mistress
isn't dead--she'll soon come around. But you must get her undressed
and to bed. And then keep bathing her face with cold water till the
doctor comes. Understand?"

"Ye--yes, sir," faltered the girl. "But--oh!" and a burst of
hysterical sobbing choked her.

Simmonds shook her again.

"Don't be a fool, Annie Crogan!" he said. "Get hold of yourself!"

Godfrey stepped off the bed and picked up one of the limp wrists.

"Her pulse is getting stronger," he said, after a moment. "It will
soon--hello, what's this!"

Clasped tight in the slender fingers was something that looked like a
torn and crumpled rubber glove. He tried to unclasp the fingers, but
when he touched them, they contracted rigidly, and a low moan burst
from the unconscious girl. So, after a moment, he desisted and laid
the hand down again.

"You understand what you're to do?" he asked the maid, and she nodded
mutely. "Then come along, boys," he added, and led the way back to the
hall. His face was dripping with perspiration and his hands were
shaking, but he managed to control them. "And now for Senor Silva," he
said, in another tone, taking the torch from my hand. "I fear he will
have a rude awakening."

"He sat there like a statue, even when I shot the snake," remarked
Simmonds. "He's a wonder, he is."

"Yes," agreed Godfrey, as he stepped into the entry, "he's a wonder."
Then he stopped, glanced around, and turned a stern face on Simmonds.
"Where's the man I left on guard here?" he asked.

"Why," faltered Simmonds, "I remember now--he helped us carry the
young lady. But we were all right there in the hall--you don't
mean ..."

Godfrey stepped to the inner door and flashed his torch about the
room. The divan was empty.

Simmonds paused only for a single glance.

"He can't be far away!" he said. "He can't get away in that white robe
of his. Come along, Tom!" and, followed by his assistant, he plunged
down the stairs.

I saw Godfrey half-turn to follow; then he stopped, ran his hand along
the wall inside the door, found the button, and turned on the lights.
His face was pale and angry.

"It's my fault as much as anyone's," he said savagely. "I might have
known Silva would see the game was up, and try to slip away in the
excitement. I ought to have kept an eye on him."

"Your eyes were fairly busy as it was," I remarked. "Besides, maybe he
hasn't got away."

Godfrey's face, as he glanced about the room, showed that he cherished