``No, but we are. Clay and I've been waiting there for five
minutes. We found Miss Hope's groom and sent him back to the
Palms with a message to King. We told him to run the yacht to
Los Bocos and lie off shore until we came. He is to take her on
down the coast to Truxillo, where our man-of-war is lying, and
they will give her shelter as a political refugee.''

``Why don't you drive her to the Palms at once?'' demanded
Stuart, anxiously, ``and take her on board the yacht there? It
is ten miles to Bocos and the roads are very bad.''

``Clay says we could never get her through the city,''
MacWilliams answered. ``We should have to fight all the way.
But the city to the south is deserted, and by going out by the
back roads, we can make Bocos by ten o'clock to-night. The yacht
should reach there by seven.''

``You are right; go back. I will call off some of my men. The
rest must hold this mob back until you start; then I will follow
with the others. Where is Miss Hope?''

``We don't know. Clay is frantic. Her groom says she is
somewhere in the palace.''

``Hurry,'' Stuart commanded. ``If Mendoza gets here before
Madame Alvarez leaves, it will be too late.''

MacWilliams sprang up the steps of the palace, and Stuart,
calling to the men nearest him to follow, started after him on a