“I did not expect that you would really take one,” Skye smiled. “I understand that all transactions such as this are made in cash. But you still have not answered by question.”

“As to my name? I am afraid that you will have to be satisfied with ‘El Diablo’ or else what my servants call me, ‘El Cabeza’, which means their head or leader.”

“And what do your friends call you?”

“I have no friends.”

“And if you had?”

He frowned a moment at her persistence and then reluctantly said,

“I assume they would call me ‘Guido’, for that is my name.”

“And your surname?”

“That is my business!”

Skye swallowed and tried not to look as if he was being rude.

With an effort she said,

“Well, señor, we are now introduced, so perhaps it will be easier for us to talk frankly. You have, of course, some fixed idea in your mind as to how much you require to set me free?”

El Diablo rose to his feet and walked across the room.

“Come here,” he said.

Wonderingly, Skye followed him. Against the wall she saw a big iron chest, such as the Spaniards of the sixteenth century used to carry on their ships to hold the money with which they paid the crews.

There were two strong padlocks on it and El Diablo, drawing a key from his pocket, unlocked them and opened the chest.

Full of curiosity, Skye stared into it.

She had a moment of disappointment. She did not know what she expected, but certainly not that the chest should be half full of small white, half-transparent stones, little different, as far as she could see, from the pebbles one could pick up anywhere on a beach in England or along the roadside in California.

“What do you imagine these are?” El Diablo enquired.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Skye replied and then the fact that they were locked away seemed to stir a memory of something someone once said to her after they had visited Johannesburg and her eyes were wide as she looked up at him.

“They – are not diamonds?” she asked.

“Yes, diamonds,” he said. “They are found in the bed of a river about ten miles North of here. What, at a glance, do you imagine that little pile is worth?”

“I have no idea,” Skye replied.

“They are not such fine diamonds as those found in Brazil and certainly not the same quality as those which come from the South African mines, but they are diamonds and even if every one of these is found to be flawed or a bad colour, this pile would still be worth something like two or three hundred thousand pounds sterling.”

He looked down at her astonished face and said quietly,

“Would you like me to give you some?”

“No, no, thank you!” Skye replied.