It would, she was sure, be nearly dark before he returned, for he had not made his usual tour of inspection for some days.

She had grown to know his routine – the calls at the haciendas, his visits to the mines and the diamond washers. Unless something untoward happened, as the day before yesterday when he had gone out to kill the jaguar, his programme was as regular as clockwork.

Skye looked at her watch. With any luck they should be within reach of Jācara by the time El Diablo returned home – far, far too late for him to follow them.

She smiled at the guards as she came out onto the terrace and they swept their hats from their heads and greeted her with a flash of their tobacco-stained teeth.

“It’s a nice day for riding,” she said and they agreed with her.

Then they stood back to watch her slim figure appreciatively as she descended the stone steps to where Pedro was waiting with the horses.

He had brought her the black mare that she had ridden before and of whom she was particularly fond.

The mare pranced and reared a little with excitement and then settled down to an easy trot as they moved from the camp and out into the open plain.

They turned North and Skye understood without questioning that it was obviously the way they must go while they were within sight of the guards.

As they rode away, deliberately without hurry, she studied her companion, for the first time asking herself if she could trust him.

It was hard to assess his character by his appearance. He had thick black hair, carefully greased, a plump face tanned by the sun to a golden brown, a thin black moustache above full smiling lips and bold eyes that seemed to Skye surprisingly unafraid considering the risks he was running.

She was so on edge that even a yellow bien-te-veo bird with its whistling “I spy you” call made her jump as it glided past.

When they were over a mile from the camp, she reined in her horse.

“We have to take to the mountains a little further on señora,” Pedro remarked. “There are El Cabeza’s men on the pass to the camp and on the other roadway to the East.”

“Is it a hard ride?” Skye asked.

“Very difficult for anyone who does not know it, but for me, not impossible,” Pedro boasted. “I have been this way several times, that is why I thought to myself, ‘I, Pedro, will help the señora escape, for there is no one else who can assist her’.”

“It is very kind of you,” Skye said gratefully. “What made you think I wanted to escape?”

Pedro smiled the knowing smirk of a man who values highly his own intelligence.