She was holding out her hands to the fire as she spoke, feeling the warmth of the flames dispel the sudden chill that had made her shiver a few minutes earlier.

Pedro came across and stood close beside her.

“I will protect the señora,” he said in a smooth ingratiating voice.

“Then you had better sleep here at the mouth of the cave,” Skye answered sharply. “And keep the fire going. I will go inside. Goodnight, Pedro.”

She turned and made her way carefully into the cave. It was not very deep and the fire outside illuminated the sandy floor, the rough walls and the pile of whitened bones that lay at the other end.

There was no doubt that Pedro was right in saying that it smelt of foxes. However, at least it was a protection against the cold.

And then the light from the fire was partially blotted out and Skye realised that Pedro had followed her.

She turned round quickly.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I have come take care of the señora,” he replied, his voice thick and at the same time caressing.

“I have told you that I don’t want you in here,” Skye said. “Go out at once.”

He was not a tall man, but his head reached nearly to the top of the cave and he seemed to fill it, making her feel suddenly very small.

“Do you hear me?” she repeated. “Go outside. I wish to be alone.”

There was no fear, only an autocratic authority in her tone. But in reply Pedro, quite unabashed, put out his hands towards her.

“The señora will like Pedro,” he smiled. “All the girls like Pedro and if the señora like Pedro very much, perhaps she take him to America.”

“Don’t you dare touch me,” Skye cried furiously, “and go away! If you want to come to America, we will talk about it tomorrow, but not now – do you hear me? Not now!”

“You very pretty.”

She felt his hot wine-tainted breath upon her face.

“I like fair girls with white skins and you too will like Pedro. He very fine lover.”

He caught hold of her as he spoke.

Skye gave a scream of sheer terror and then started to fight him with every ounce of her strength. She felt her nails scratch his face, she beat on his chest. She even, at one moment, fastened her teeth on his hand.

But she knew that gradually she was being overpowered.

He was a man, he was strong and he was inflamed by a passion that showed itself in the quick excited breath that she could hear hissing between his thick lips.

She felt her feet slip beneath her and, as she fell, she screamed, screamed and shouted and screamed again.