For Salve, who had seen the landlord making a rush towards him, felt himself suddenly, in the midst of the confusion caused by the darkness, seized by two men and forced towards a door leading in another direction than that in which he saw the stream was setting, and which no doubt was the way out.
"Help, Yankee! there's some villany on here; the small door to the right!" he shouted, with great presence of mind, and at the same moment the door was slammed behind him.

A handkerchief was tied over his mouth; he was tripped up and brought heavily to the ground, where his feet and hands were tied, and he was then shot into a dark side-room, which seemed to be at the back of a press, that was unlatched to pass him through.
"H'm!" said the Yankee coolly, to himself.

"I am not going to lose his pay, if I know it," and he set out accordingly in search of the police, with whom he had no outstanding account.
Salve was certain he had heard the senorita's voice whispering in the outer room; and not long after he heard the latch in the press raised, and she stood before him with a light.

She looked at him mischievously, and spilt some oil out of the lamp on to his face with a little scornful laugh.

But her expression changed then to that of a tigress burning for revenge that is compelled to put off the gratification of her fury, and she darted out again, clapping down the latch behind her.
Salve lay tightly bound with his hands behind his back.