Turning from the century-dead Coya with an inarticulate cry of rage, Dick seized Orellana by the throat as if he would have strangled the poor madman, who had started work on the wrong tomb. And he, thrice accursed fool that he was, had followed the madman’s lead, made a mistake when every minute might mean Maria-Teresa’s life!

And now, which was it? The tomb on the right or that on the left? Or neither?

Loosing the old man, he controlled himself again by a superhuman effort and looked round the temple. No, there could be no mistake this time. It must be the one on the right. He looked for the angle from their hiding-place to the altar. Yes, this was the one!

The pick thundered on another slab, while Orellana, a raving maniac now, danced and gibbered behind him, grunting with every blow as if he himself had delivered it.

At last the stone turned.... It moved... slid into their arms... fell to the ground.

“Maria-Teresa! It is I, Dick! For God’s sake, speak!”

Again he bent oyer the rigid face of a long-forgotten Coya.

Dick fell to the ground as if stunned. But Orellana was already at work again, setting him the example, and the young engineer was on his feet in a moment. It must be that other one on the left, then! Once again he wrenched the pick from the old man’s feeble hands and hammered on the granite.... The minutes are flying... flying. And She may be dying behind that slab, struggling for breath!... The thunder of blows echoed through the hall... the stone moved... slipped... fell.... At last.... No!... Another dead woman.... Another, another!... Not Maria-Teresa!

“Maria Cristina! My daughter! Dearest, I am coming! Your father is here!”

While Dick staggered to the wall, staring before him with blind eyes, the old man, peering into the tomb, had recognized his child.

“Maria Cristina! Dearest! Wait, wait! Only one more stone, and you will be out of your prison!”

Sobbing and laughing in turn, Orellana worked desperately, find............