Ahead lay a dark corridor, upon which opened
the doors of the ground floor rooms. He was in a round entranceway
from which ascended a flight of winding stone steps to the balconied
upper floor and the turret rooms above. Up there, somewhere, was his
father. Jack paused only a moment, then sprang up the steps.
As he reached the upper landing, he heard the sound of footsteps
descending from the tower. He listened a moment. They were not the
familiar footsteps of his father.
He must act quickly, if he were to stand any chance of escape.
Springing forward, revolver in hand, he seized the knob of the nearest
door on the balcony, found the door give and leaped in, pushing it to
behind him and setting his back against it.
The room was brightly lighted, evidently a young lady's boudoir. This
much his first glance showed Jack. It showed him also two women--one
young and very beautiful, the other wizened and monkey-like, both
terrified and speechless. They were Don Fernandez' daughter, Rafaela,
and her duenna or chaperone, Donna Ana.
"Quiet," hissed Jack in Spanish, waving his weapon threateningly.
He listened with strained attention to sounds from outside. The
menacing footsteps reached the landing, and then continued to descend.
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