hat's
not the question now, but _this is_: You must make yourself known to
your Croesus of an uncle here, and demand that part of your fortune that
he still clutches within his avaricious old fingers. You must do this
to-morrow."

"I will not!"

"But you shall, or--."

The woman rose suddenly, and walked towards the door as if she intended
to go out.

"No, not to-night, dearest!" said Dubrosc, grasping her rudely by the
arm. "I have my reasons for keeping you here. I noted you to-day
speaking with that cursed Yankee, and you're just traitor enough to help
him to escape. I'll look to him myself, so you may stay where you are.
If you should choose to rise early enough to-morrow morning, you will
have the felicity of seeing him dance upon the tight-rope. Ha! ha! ha!"

And with a savage laugh the Creole walked out of the room, locking the
door behind him.

A strange expression played over the features of the woman--a blending
of triumph with anxiety. She ran forward to the window, and, pressing
her small lips close to the glass, strained her eyes outward.

I held the diamond in my fingers, and, stretching up until my hand was
opposite her face, I wrote the word "_Gracias_."

At first seeing me she had started back. There was no time to be lost.
My comrades were already chafing at my delay; and, joining them, we
crept through the magueys, parting the broad, stiff leaves with our
fingers. We were soon upon the edge of the chaparral wood.

I looked back towards the window. The woman stood holding the lamp, and
its light was full upon her face. She had read the scrawl, and was
gazing out with an expression I shall never forget. Another bound, and
we were "in the woods."

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

THE PURSUIT.

For a time there was a strange irresolution in my flight. The idea of
leaving Guadalupe in such company--that after all they might be
prisoners, or, even if not, the thought that they were in the power of
Dubrosc to any extent--was enough to render me wretched and irresolute.
But what could we do--five men, almost unarmed?

"It would be madness to remain--madness and death. The woman--she
possesses some mysterious power over this brute, her paramour: she will
guard them."

This thought decided me, and I yielded myself freely to flight. We had
but little fear of being caught again. We had too much confidence,
particularly Lincoln and myself, in our forest-craft. Raoul knew all
the country,