"How?" asked Orissa, curiously.
"Have you not the flying-machine—the airship?" he asked, simply. "And are you not here alone, and in my power? It carries but two, I see, so one of you shall stay here. The other must fly with me to my own island, where I will take a sailboat and—vanish from the dogs who are hounding me."
"That," said Orissa, with forced calmness, for her heart was beating wildly, "is impossible."
He uttered a fierce growl.
"It is not impossible," he cried. "I have seen your machine fly, and know it can fly when you want it to. It must fly now, or by San Filippe I will tumble you both out and fly it myself. It is best that you not arouse my anger, for Ramon Ganza is desperate and will not be denied. Get ready, girl! We will fly to my island, or——" He laughed harshly. "Or you will both ruin your beautiful toilets, and—the mire is dangerous," he added.
"We have no gasoline," pleaded Orissa.
"Pah! a trick to deceive me."
"No; it is true," cried Sybil, who grew more quiet as fear possessed her.
He hesitated, a look of despair flashing across his features. Then he said with grim determination: "I will see for myself," and stepped recklessly into the pool of oil that lay between him and the hummock where the aëroplane perched.