He sprang up with a sharp intake of breath, looking pale, startled and dishevelled, at sight of Myra and the hooded figure he assumed to be El Diablo Cojuelo.
"Hullo! What's the idea now?" he asked quickly. "Why have you brought
Miss Rostrevor here?"
"The señorita wishes to assure herself that what she has been told by Don Carlos de Ruiz is correct," explained El Diablo Cojuelo, in his disguised and muffled voice. "I, also, wish to hear you say that you are prepared to accept your freedom and go back with Don Carlos to his castle, leaving the señorita with me, resigning her to me as your ransom."
Myra found herself strangely calm, felt as if she had run through the whole gamut of emotions and exhausted them all.
"Tony, is it true you told Don Carlos that you were willing to go and leave me here at the mercy of this outlaw, who professes to be passionately in love with me?" she asked, scarcely recognising her own voice. "Is it true?"
"True? Er—er—why, of course not," answered Standish, nervously fingering his little sandy moustache. "I mean to say—er—what exactly did Don Carlos tell you?"
"That you are prepared to leave me here, knowing that El Diablo Cojuelo will force me to become his wife, and accept your own freedom rather than run the risk of punishment," said Myra. "You are prepared to renounce me, Tony?"
"No, no, nothing of the sort!" exclaimed Tony, his face flushing duskily. "Nothing of the sort! I distinctly told Don Carlos that nothing would induce me to surrender you to Cojuelo. Myra, darling, you know I would never think of doing such a thing."
"So you assert that Don Carlos lied?" demanded Cojuelo sternly. "You did not tell him you would accept your freedom and leave the señorita to me if I refrained from flogging you and branding you? Will you swear that on oath—on your sacred word of honour as an English gentleman?"
"Don Carlos must have misunderstood me," Standish responded, nervously licking his dry lips. "Look here, Cojuelo, drop this fooling and be sensible. I realise you've got the whip hand, so to speak, and can dictate your own terms. How much do you want? I told Don Carlos I am willing to pay you ten thousand pounds—that's something like a million pesetas in your money—to set Miss Rostrevor and me free. Think of it, man—a million, and——"