“Make it appear that I escaped myself,” the señorita replied. “You are strong. You can tear out that window until it is large enough for me to get through. Let him think that there was some tool in the storeroom and that I did the work.”
“Ha! If I thought you were speaking truth—”
“Very well!” said the señorita. “Wait and see whether it is the truth.”
The woman hesitated, searching the señorita’s face with her keen glance. Then she grunted and hurried into the other room, while Lolita Pulido waited in fear and trembling, wondering what was to come now. Had the woman gone to tell Barbados the story?
But presently Inez returned, and she carried a peculiar strip of iron with one sharp end, a bit of wreckage, perhaps, from some ill-fated ship.
“Watch you at the door, on the inside!” she commanded. “Do not go into the other room. They are still fighting and perhaps there will be time.”
The señorita hurried across to the door, hope singing in her heart again. There she watched and listened to the din of battle. All would be well if she could escape in the confusion and get away from the camp. She could reach El Camino Real and make her way along it. If she could reach San Diego de Alcála, she would find friends.
She turned and looked at the woman. Inez was tearing out the masonry and adobe around the window. The metal bars already were inside the room and out of the way.
“Be quick!” the señorita said. “I am small, and do not need a very large space.”
“It is done!” the woman replied.