bolted and place you just where it will open. Then I will call Eudaldo
and speak to him, and beg him to let me out. If he does, bend your head
and try to walk as I do. I shall be on one side of the door, and, as the
room is dark, he cannot possibly see me. While he is opening the outer
door for you, I will slip back into my own room. Do you understand? And
remember to hide in an embrasure if you hear a man's footsteps. Are you
quite sure you understand?"

"Yes; it will be easy if Eudaldo opens. And I thank you, dear; I wish I
knew how to thank you as I ought! It may have saved his life--"

"And yours, too, perhaps," answered Inez, beginning to lead her away.
"You would die in the convent, and you must not come back--you must
never come back to us here--never till you are married. Good-by,
Dolores--dear sister. I have done nothing, and you have done everything
for me all your life. Good-by--one kiss--then we must go, for it is
late."

With her soft hands she drew Dolores' head towards her, lifted the hood
a little, and kissed her tenderly. All at once there were tears on both
their faces, and the arms of each clasped the other almost desperately.

"You must come to me, wherever I am," Dolores said.

"Yes, I will come, wherever you are. I promise it."

Then she disengaged herself quickly, and more than ever she seemed a
spirit as she went before, leading her sister by the hand. They reached
the 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