The camp below was astir and she climbed out of bed and went to the window to draw back the curtain. The sun was rising over the horizon, driving away the purple darkness of the night with a swiftness that was almost incredible.

Gazing through the wrought iron grille, Skye stared at the familiar scene below with its huts and tents, dogs and goats and tumbling children, and remembered that she might have seen the dawn under very different circumstances.

She shuddered at the thought and realised that she was naked.

She saw her clothes lying in a tumbled mass on the floor and guessed who had put her to bed last night.

She remembered then that El Diablo had spoken but a few words to her since she had fought herself free from Pedro’s dead body and had run to him for protection.

Was he angry? She tried to remember the expression on his face when she looked up to find him giving her a drink of water. It had been dark, but she seemed to remember that there was a light somewhere, perhaps from a match or an electric torch held by one of his men.

But the events of the night were hazy, she could not remember what had happened. He carried her back across the saddle of his horse, but after that she could remember nothing.

Suddenly she was conscious of feeling extremely hungry. She was still tired but not exhausted and she knew that when she had had something to eat she would feel better. The rays of the sun were already coming through the window and in a very short while El Diablo would be having breakfast as he rose when his men did at dawn.

She was determined that she would see him before he went out – it was impossible to lie in bed wondering if he was angry with her, frightened as to what he would say and do about her latest escapade.

If she was to be punished, any punishment, however cruel physically, was better than the mental agonies of anticipation.

Quickly she moved across the room and filled the basin with water from the jug that stood beside it. The dust and dirt of the day before wanted a lot of washing away, but after it was done she felt clean.

Quickly she dressed, choosing a dress of grey muslin with a white collar that made her look like a demure Puritan.

A very pale face looked back at her from the silver-edged mirror with eyes that seemed unnaturally large in the small oval of her face. Skye did her best to improve her appearance, but she knew that some of her pallor was due not only to the events of yesterday but because she was nervous.

She remembered how she had told Jimmy that she was not afraid of any man, not even El Diablo. How gay and lighthearted and how stupid she had been!