The guards appeared to be arguing for the moment and then the door was opened and a gaucho came in carrying a bunch of flowers. Skye recognised him as one of the regular band that accompanied El Diablo on his rides and with an effort she remembered too that his name was Pedro.

“Buenos dias, señora,” Pedro said, bowing from the doorway and then, as Skye returned his greeting, he came across the room to present her with the flowers.

“El Cabeza’s compliments, señora, and he asks, if you are not too tired, for you to join him on his ride. He waits for you a few miles away. I can take you there.”

He spoke loudly and then added in a low whisper.

“If you wish to escape, señora, I will help you now.”

Skye had taken the flowers automatically.

But, at the man’s whisper, she stared at him, suddenly tense as the meaning of his words came to her.

“Say something, señora,” he breathed, “ – the guards are listening.”

With her brain racing with the effort of grasping what was happening, Skye said,

“It is very kind of El Cabeza to send me these flowers and you say that he suggests my joining him? What is the day like? Is it very hot?”

“It is hot, yes,” Pedro answered, “but there is a cool wind. Come to the window, señora, and see for yourself.”

At the window they were behind the open doorway and the guards could not see them and they were also a little more out of earshot.

“You must act quickly, señora,” Pedro murmured. “El Cabeza sent me home because I felt ill. He is a long way from here. It will be nightfall before he returns. By that time we can have reached Jācara.”

“Yes, it is a nice day,” Skye said, “even though the sun is hot,” and then in a whisper, “How much do you want for doing this?”

“It will get cooler later, señora,” Pedro replied. “Five hundred American dollars.”

There was no time to argue even if she had wished to.

“I agree,” Skye whispered and added aloud, “I will ride out to join El Cabeza. Have a horse saddled for me and wait below.”

“Gracias, señora!”

Pedro bowed and she turned and ran into the inner cave.

It took her only a few minutes to change into her riding clothes.

She stuffed all the money she possessed into the pockets of her riding breeches and then, picking up her whip and gloves, she took one last glance around the cave.

This was the last time she would see it, this strangely beautiful place, which she still felt, even after living here, had an unreality about it.

The prison door was opening. If El Diablo had been the victor last night, today the tables were now turned.