She took the light from him and held it as he directed.
"Hold it steady, child. Steady!--Do not tremble so! I must see! I _must!_ steady!"
The footsteps came nearer. To her they sounded from out the darkness like the approach of death.
"Hasten!" she whispered, "hasten!" She held the lantern against the frame of the solid door and pressed her shoulder against it, that her nervousness should not agitate the flame, whispering "Hasten!" the while to Silencio, whose trembling fingers almost refused to do this most necessary work. At last, with a bang and a sharp twist of the key, the heavy door was closed and locked.
"Do you see an iron bar anywhere, Raquel, in the bushes there on the left?"
She ran to the side of the tunnel, which still arched above them here. Silencio was close to her, and at once laid his hand upon the strong piece of metal. He sprang back to the door, and slipped the bar into the rust-worn but still faithful hasps.
Then he turned, seized her hand again, and led her hurriedly along between the high banks. It was still dark where they stood, so overgrown was the deep cut, but Silencio knew the way. He took the lantern from Raquel's hand, extinguished it, and set it upon the ground. "We shall need this no more," he said.
The trees and vines growing from the embankment, which nearly closed overhead, were interwoven like a green basket-work, and almost shut out the daylight. Silencio took Raquel's hand in his and led her along the narrow path. The light became stronger with every step.
"That! Do you not hear it? It sounds like a knocking behind us."
Silencio stood still for a moment, listening to the sounds.
"Yes," he said at last, "I do hear it. It is some of those villains pursuing us. Hasten, Raquel. When they find the door is closed, they will return to the casa to cut off our retreat."
"And the poor servants left behind, will they--"
"They are safe, child. You are the quarry they seek. Escobeda does not exchange shots to no purpose."
A few more steps, and Silencio parted the thicket ahead. Raquel passed through in obedience to his commanding nod, and emerged into the blinding glare of a tropical morning. Beneath her feet was the hot, fine sand of the seashore. A few yards away a small boat was resting, her stern just washed by the ripples. Raquel turned and looked backward. The mass of trees and vines hid the bank from view, the bank in its turn concealed the casa. As she stood thus she heard again a slow knocking, but much fainter than before. It was like the distant sound of heavy blows.