With her soft hands she drew Dolores’ head towards her, lifted the hood a little, and kissed her tenderly.  All at once there were tears on both their faces, and the arms of each clasped the other almost desperately.

“You must come to me, wherever I am,” Dolores said.

“Yes, I will come, wherever you are.  I promise it.”

Then she disengaged herself quickly, and more than ever she seemed a spirit as she went before, leading her sister by the hand.  They reached the door, and she made Dolores stand before the right hand panel, ready to slip out, and once more she touched the hood to be sure it hid the face.  She listened a moment.  A harsh and regular sound came from a distance, resembling that made by a pit-saw steadily grinding its way lengthwise through a log of soft pine wood.

“Eudaldo is asleep,” said Inez, and even at this moment she could hardly suppress a half-hysterical laugh.  “I shall have to make a tremendous noise to wake him.  The danger is that it may bring some one else,—–­the women, the rest of the servants.”

“What shall we do?” asked Dolores, in a distressed whisper.

She had braced her nerves to act the part of her sister at the dangerous moment, and her excitement made every instant of waiting seem ten times its length.  Inez did not answer the question at once.  Dolores repeated it still more anxiously.

“I was trying to make up my mind,” said the other at last.  “You could pass Eudaldo well enough, I am sure, but it might be another matter if the hall were full of servants, as it is certain that our father has given a general order that you are not to be allowed to go out.  We may wait an hour for the man to wake.”

Dolores instinctively tried the door, but it was solidly fastened from the outside.  She felt hot and cold by turns as her anxiety grew more intolerable.  Each minute made it more possible that she might meet her father somewhere outside.

“We must decide something!” she whispered desperately.  “We cannot wait here.”

“I do not know what to do,” answered Inez.  “I have done all I can; I never dreamt that Eudaldo would be asleep.  At least, it is a sure sign that our father is not in the house.”

“But he may come at any moment!  We must, we must do something at once!”

“I will knock softly,” said Inez.  “Any one who hears it will suppose it is a knock at the hall door.  If he does not open, some one will go and wake him up, and then go away again so as not to be seen.”

She clenched her small hand, and knocked three times.  Such a sound could make not the slightest impression upon Eudaldo’s sound sleep, but her reasoning was good, as well as ingenious.  After waiting a few moments, she knocked again, more loudly.  Dolores held her breath in the silence that followed.  Presently a door was opened, and a woman’s voice was heard, low but sharp.

“Eudaldo, Eudaldo!  Some one is knocking at the front door!”