“Antón help build it.”
“But why should my stepfather build the passageway?” Lorinda murmured. “It doesn’t seem like him.”
Celeste did not answer. Gathering up the machete, the Zudi drum, the embroidered altar cloth and other stolen treasures, she prepared to leave.
“It was you who whispered the warning at the thatched cottage!” accused Penny. “You wanted to prevent discovery of this cave!”
Celeste’s cruel smile acknowledged the truth. Saying something to Antón in their own language, she padded off down the passageway.
All save Antón now had gone. He blew out the altar candles, picked up the pine torch and would have blown out the cocoanut shell lamp, had Penny not said pleadingly:
“Please leave us a tiny light, Antón. It will be so dark here in the cave.”
The man hesitated, glancing down the passage as if fearful Celeste would punish him for such a display of weakness. But he did as Penny requested. First, however, he noted that the lamp was nearly empty of oil and could not burn many minutes. Without extinguishing it, he disappeared into the tunnel.
Waiting only until she was certain Celeste, Antón and their converts were out of the passage, Lorinda said excitedly:
“They forgot to gag us! We can shout for help!”