I will tell you my plan." They were pressed back within the slight recess before the Mexican turned the corner, and she had hastily breathed her desperate scheme.
"It can be done," she insisted, "and there is nought else possible.

We dare not let him enter, and find Cateras, and to kill the man will serve no good end.

You will not?
Then give me the revolver.

Good! Be silent now." Mendez came down the black passage evidently in rare good humour, humming a tune, with one hand pressed upon the wall to better guide his movements.

So dark it was, even the outlines of his form were indistinguishable, yet, as he felt no need for caution, it was easy enough to trace his forward progress.