This was the secret outlet to the great chamber by which Milo had access to the altar in the grove at such times as his aid was needed to support Dolores in some exhibition of black magic. She stepped swiftly along the passage, giving no further heed to the panic-stricken pirate until Milo had carried and dragged him to where she awaited him. This was still another dark excavation, running deeper yet into the bowels of the cliff; and the devilish red glare was here intensified until surrounding objects were vividly revealed.

“Now hear the doom of a traitor!” cried Dolores, with haughty mien. “What! Not a traitor?” she mocked at the pirate’s frantic howl of denial. “Then Dolores has erred, perhaps. There is a test, good Sancho. Let me see if I am wrong!”