He found her very sensible, for she realized that some such move must be adopted to get rid of the miserable sentry.
"Spare him not, senor—he has doubtless taken delight in torturing my Leon—have no pity on the wretch," she whispered in his ear, with considerable warmth.
Roderic had his own notion about the eternal fitness of things, and being a cool, sensible American instead of a hot blooded Spaniard, he was decidedly averse to shedding blood when such a thing might possibly be avoided.
There were other ways of accomplishing the same end, this Yankee brain decided.
With a few last words of caution to Inez, who was trembling all over with excitement, he left her and started upon his advance.
An old Indian fighter might have been proud of the progress Roderic made.
He imitated a cat creeping upon a bird, his eyes being glued upon the white garbed figure of the guard, and every movement governed by that of the man who carried the Mauser.
Foot by foot he went forward.
The guard was muttering to himself as he still moved restlessly from one heavy door to another.