to grief. They say some sixth sense guides them--gives them
warning of pitfalls and dangers. I--I can't understand--"

"That well was a menace to a waking person. I didn't realize how
near to it she was; and when I cried out to her it seemed only to
hasten her steps." The young man shuddered, for the horror of the
thing was still in his mind.

"Tell me, how did you come to be there at such an hour, eh?"

Esteban saw the malevolent curiosity in Cueto's face and started.
"I--That is my affair. Surely you don't think--"

"Come, come! You can trust me." The overseer winked and smiled.

"I had business that took me there," stiffly declared the younger
man.

"Exactly! And a profitable business it proved!" Cueto laughed
openly now. "Well, I don't mind telling you, Dona Isabel's death
is no disappointment to any one. Anybody could see--"

"Stop!" Esteban was turning alternately red and white. "You seem
to imply something outrageous."

"Now let us be sensible. I understand you perfectly, my boy. But
an officer of the Guardia Civil may arrive at any moment and he
will want to know how you came to be with your stepmother when she
plunged into that trap. So prepare yourself. If only you had not
given the alarm. If only you had waited until morning. But--in the