But now the end was at hand. I scarce cared to turn my eyes to observe whether or not the mute had seen the sailor shrinking behind the stone; instead, nerved myself, by both prayer and fierce determination, to meet my fate, to make my exit into the open as bravely as became a man; to let not one of my executioners see that I feared them or the flames that were to burn the life out of me.
So we drew near the mouth of the passage--moving through the gloom that was as the gloom of a shuttered and darkened house on some wintry morn--I seeing that, beyond and outside, was a sloping, stone-flagged decline that led down to a lane which ran out into the open country beyond. We were, therefore, outside the walls of Lugo, and I deemed that it was here, unknown to the townspeople, that I was to meet my fate.
We stood a moment later on that stone-covered descent, and I gazed around it startled--amazed! For here, upon it, was no hideous braséro piled up with logs of wood, and drenched with resin and pitch to make those logs burn more fiercely; no upright plank nor beam against which the sufferer's hand--my hand!--was to be nailed through the palm; no executioners clad in black from head to foot. Instead, a man in peasant's dress--green breeches, leather zapátas and a sheepskin jacket. A peasant holding by the reins two horses, one black, the other dappled grey.
I felt almost as though once more I should faint--felt as I had done in that reeking, mouldy corridor through which I had come--became sick, indeed, at the relief, even though 'twere for an hour or so only, which was accorded me from instant death, since I knew that here that death could not be dealt out.
Then I turned to the deaf and dumb man--if such he was--who had now released my arm--had done so, indeed, since the half light had been reached--and implored him to tell me what was intended.
For answer--he guessed, no doubt, the import of my words--he pointed to the horses and made signs I should mount one of them. And I, incredulous, asking God inwardly what was meant, went toward the black one and seizing its reins and twisting a lock of its mane around my thumb prepared to do as I was bid, yet with my nerves tingling and trembling so that I scarce knew whether I could reach the saddle or not.
Then, ere the attempt was made, as I raised my foot to the iron, the mute touched my arm, felt in his belt with the other hand and, producing a piece of paper, gave it to me.
It was from Juana; ran thus in English:
Your road is through Samos, Caldelas and the other Viana. At Terroso you will cross the frontier. The jailer will guide you to us. Come quickly, so that thereby my fate may be decided.
Juana.