He had already shaped his course. He had observed on the sulphur barrels, near the wall, a strip of matting, used as a cover for them. Nick snatched it from the barrels, and rushed to wrap it around the skirts and limbs of the terror-stricken woman.
For several moments the result seemed doubtful, so doubtful that Nick finally threw Cervera heavily to the floor, the better to press the matting closely around her and so smother the flames. In this he presently succeeded, but not before she was so severely burned as to be rendered utterly helpless.
When Nick arose to his feet Cervera remained lying prostrate on the floor, moaning with pain, yet in a state of semi-consciousness only. A glance told Nick that she could make no move to escape, and he now had other work than that of looking to her comfort.
He ran to the stone door, threw the bolts, and quickly dragged it open.
Even as he did so, from out of the gloom of the adjoining cellar, a man came into view, as if suddenly arisen from the ground.
The man was Dave Kilgore.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE LAST TRICK.
"Carter!"