"A girl!" the tall man laughed. "That then will account for the unusual interest of Juan Cateras, and why he preferred being left in charge. A girl, hey, Merodiz! You saw the witch? What sort was she?"
"An American, señor, young, and good to look at," the other man explained. "Her eyes as blue as the skies."
"Good! 'tis not often the gods serve us so well. I forgive Cateras for failure to report such a prize, but from now on will see that he takes his proper place. She was here when we came?"
"No, señor; the two Americanos brought her; it was Silva and I who put her in the cell."
"At Cateras's order?"
"Yes, señor."
"In what cell?"
"The second in the passage; the man who was here when we came has the one this way."
"Caramba! this is all pleasant enough. I will pay my respects to the lady, and there is no time like the present."
He turned away, thumbing his moustache, quite pleased with his conceit, but one of the men stopped him with a question.