The unfortunates, Carlos and Juan, stared at the empty prison and crossed themselves.  “Witchcraft,” muttered Carlos, the readier of the two.  “We have watched faithfully all night, my captain.  We saw nothing, we heard nothing, and the door was locked, as you behold.  We are honest men and we have been faithful!”

Braxton Wyatt pointed to the dark corner of the prison.

“See,” he said, “that is how they went.”

Heaped against the wall was a pile of dirt, and in its place a hole large enough to admit a man’s body led under the logs.  The Spaniard cried out in rage again.

“We see how they have gone!” he exclaimed, “but in what way did they do it?  Who has helped them!”

Braxton Wyatt examined the tunnel.  The bottom logs of the cabin rested squarely upon the ground, after the primitive fashion.  The floor was of bark, and a section of this had been lifted.  The prisoners had then dug their hole under the log.

“It was done with metal tools of some kind,” said Wyatt.  “But they had nothing when we locked them in here.  I can swear to that, as I was one of those who searched them well.”

“Then they must have had help!” exclaimed Alvarez, and again he turned fiercely upon the sentinels, but Braxton Wyatt intervened.  He was glad that he could patronize Alvarez at least once and show himself to be the superior in discernment.

“These men, Your Excellency, of whom I told you to beware, were five,” he said.  “We captured four, therefore one was left, and I said beware of him, even alone.  He is a fellow of great cunning and skill who would try anything.  He has come for his comrades, and he has taken them away with him.”

“It must be as you say,” said Alvarez, seeking now to hide his anger.  He was not sorry on the whole that the sentinels were obviously innocent, as he needed as many adherents as he could keep, in order to carry out his great plan.

“Knowing that the window was too small to admit them, we watched only the front where the door is, Your Excellency,” said Carlos, still trembling.  “Who would have dreamed that these men of Kaintock were magicians, that without picks or shovels they could burrow under the earth and be gone like ghosts.”

“Begone yourselves!” exclaimed Alvarez.  “Get ready for the boats at once!”

Carlos and Juan fled away, glad to escape the sight of their master.

“Now that they have escaped, what do you think they will do?” asked Alvarez of Wyatt.

“They will go to New Orleans,” replied the renegade promptly, “and appear before Bernardo Galvez to denounce you.”

“Then our own start must not be delayed a moment!” exclaimed Alvarez.

In an hour he and his force were ready to embark.

CHAPTER XIII

THE WHITE STALLION