"Did you look inside the pyramid?" he asked.
"Inside it?"
"Yes, inside. There's an opening sixty or seventy feet above the ground.
I took your man's lantern when he dropped it and entered. There's a
stairway, leading down to a deep, square well, and there's something
beyond the well, although I don't know what. I stayed in there until
your army went away. Before that I had been for two or three days on top
of the pyramid, where a little water palm gave up its life to save me."
Almonte regarded him with wonder.
"I am not superstitious myself--that is, not unnecessarily so," he said,
"but yours must be a lucky star. After all that, you should have
escaped, and your present capture must be a mere delay. You will slip
from us again."
"I shall certainly try," said Ned hopefully.
"It is bound to come true," said Almonte. "All the omens point that
way."
Ned smiled. Almonte, young, brilliant and generous, had made him almost
feel as if he were a guest and not a prisoner. He did not discern in him
that underlying strain of Spanish cruelty, which passion might bring to
the surface at any moment. It might be due to his youth, or it might be
due to his American education.
"We march in an hour," said Almonte.
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