“Antón! Celeste! What is the meaning of this?” Lorinda demanded, seeking to regain control of the servants by sheer power of will.
She tried to shake herself free, but Antón did not release her. He awaited the word of his wife.
“Tie them up!” said Celeste harshly.
“Celeste, have you lost your mind!” Lorinda cried.
In the flickering light of the torch, the woman’s face was like a rigid mask. Eyes burned with hatred; cheeks were deeply indrawn. Lorinda felt as if she were gazing upon a stranger, and suddenly was afraid.
“You dared to steal Father’s drum!” she challenged.
“It is now my drum,” retorted Celeste.
“You spied upon me many times until you learned the combination of the safe!” Lorinda accused.
Celeste did not deny the charge. She was burrowing behind the low altar and from the box-like structure drew forth a long stout cord. Severing it with the blade of a sharp knife, she handed the two pieces to Antón who attempted to tie Lorinda’s hands behind her.
The girl fought like a wild cat, and Penny, held by one of Celeste’s followers, sought to free herself, but it was useless. She too was tightly bound and thrown down on the floor of the cave.