He waved his hand invitingly towards the couch which was drawn up close to the electric heater, and Myra, reflecting that it was in keeping with the rest of the fantastic, dream-like adventure that she, clad only in a nightdress and dressing-gown, should be talking to a hooded bandit in an electrically-lighted room in the heart of a mountain, seated herself.
"I suppose I should thank you for being so thoughtful," she remarked, with a tinge of irony in her sweet voice. "Am I to understand that even the English-speaking maid at the Castillo de Ruiz is in your pay?"
"Even she, señorita, and I reproach myself—I who have boasted that I think of everything—for not having kidnapped her at the same time as you, so that we should have had no language difficulty such as has occurred with Madre Dolores. If you wish it, I will kidnap her to-morrow."
"Please don't trouble, señor. I can't believe she is in your pay. She seemed afraid and crossed herself when she mentioned your name. You might frighten her to death. Incidentally, do you wear your disguise all the time, even when you are safe here in your mountain lair? Do you look so much like a devil that you are afraid to show your face?"
She looked challengingly at the hooded figure of her captor as she asked the questions. His cowl had two holes cut for the eyes and a slit at the mouth, and she was wondering what manner of face it concealed.
"The señorita pays me the compliment of wishing to see me without disguise!" exclaimed Cojuelo. "Sweet lady, are you not afraid you may fall in love with your captor?"
"I think I can take the risk," retorted Myra drily.
"It is more than a risk," rejoined Cojuelo, "but I will discard my disguise with pleasure. Behold El Diablo Cojuelo!"
He flung off his cowl and robe, and Myra sprang to her feet with a cry of amazement and her hands went convulsively to her breast. For she found herself looking into the smiling and triumphant eyes of Don Carlos de Ruiz.