``No, it's too late. This is the only way now.'' Hope opened
the leather curtains and looking out shook her head impatiently
at Clay. ``I wouldn't go now if there were another way,'' she
said. ``I couldn't leave her like this.''

``You're delaying the game, Clay,'' cried Langham, warningly, as
he stuck his spurs into his pony's side.

The people in the diligence lurched forward as the horses felt
the lash of the whip and strained against the harness, and then
plunged ahead at a gallop on their long race to the sea. As they
sped through the gardens, the stables and the trees hid them from
the sight of those in the palace, and the turf, upon which the
driver had turned the horses for greater safety, deadened the
sound of their flight.

They found the gates of the botanical gardens already opened, and
Clay, in the street outside, beckoning them on. Without waiting
for the others the two outriders galloped ahead to the first
cross street, looked up and down its length, and then, in evident
concern at what they saw in the distance, motioned the driver to
greater speed, and crossing the street signalled him to follow
them. At the next corner Clay flung himself off his pony, and
throwing the bridle to Langham, ran ahead into the cross street
on foot, and after a quick glance pointed down its length
away from the heart of the city to the mountains.

The driver turned as Clay directed him, and when the man found
that his face was fairly set toward the goal he lashed his horses