"No, sir. Constable La Mancha is with me. He has taken the horses round to the corrall."
"Go, then, tell him to saddle the prisoners' horses and my own. I will be responsible till you return. Padre," he turned to the Curate, "may Miss Burrows remain as your guest?"
Constable La Mancha was at the back door embracing Miss Burrows when Dandy called him away. "Come, none of that," he said briefly; "I want you at the stables."
"All right, Corporal,"—La Mancha went on embracing Miss Burrows,—"be with you in a minute."
"Don't cry, dear, there's nothing to frighten you; but I had to get your Uncle out of the way."
"But he's innocent!" she cried. "You ought to take me to prison for burning the mill. It was me."
"The deuce!"
"You know, dear, I had to make some sort of signal."
"To bring me, eh? Well, I don't object to signalling—at least, not very much. Now, after we've gone, you make it all right with the Padre. Tell him the whole story, and get him up very early in the morning. I'll be back by sunrise for the wedding."
"By sunrise?" she blushed hotly; "I never said I'd marry you, though."