"Succeeded?" said Donatus, as if he could not believe it. "How many of them?"

"Only one. He was crawling on his stomach like a serpent when they saw him and fired. He sprang up and ran."

"Into the valley?"

"Into the valley, chief. But he is only one, and he cannot escape. They will capture him."

"Who could it be? Who would dare attempt such a thing? Ruteni, how badly am I wounded?"

"I fear it is serious," was the answer.

Water had been brought, and a few of Donatus' band were watching the work of Ruteni, seeming benumbed and dazed by what had happened. The chief saw them and said:

"Go! Help search for the one who entered the valley. Bring him hither, dead or alive. I am still your chief, and shall be as long as I breathe."

The men obeyed at once, and besides Donatus and Ruteni only Maro and Tyrus were left by the fire.

The guard still paced before the dark mouth of the cave, in which Flavia had once more been placed.

"It is now our time!" whispered Maro, in the ear of Tyrus. "I have recovered my pistol, and you are armed. Here are the saddled horses.

Donatus is helpless. If necessary, we can slay Ruteni and the guard, and we can be away with Flavia before the others return."

Tyrus grasped the wrist of his desperate companion.

"I think too much of my life to try it," he declared. "If you attempt that, you do it alone, and you will be slain. Do not be a fool!"

Finally there was a great commotion in another portion of the valley. A single shot was fired, but shouts of triumph came faintly through the darkness.

"They have captured the spy!" said the chief, with a smile of satisfaction on his ashen face. "Are you done, Ruteni?"

"I have done everything possible, chief. The wound is in your lung. If you do not bleed internally--"

"If I do-what?"

"I fear you'll not see the rising of another sun," was the frank answer.

"And to-day, for the first time, I gazed on the face of the maid of my dreams. Do all dreams end in disappointment? Ruteni, roll me a cigarette."

The man had placed a robe, on which Donatus reclined. Ruteni rolled a cigarette and placed it between the bearded lips. Then he struck a match and lighted it.

Donatus drew in a whiff of smoke and coughed. A fleck of blood appeared on his lips.

"Take it, Ruteni," he said sadly, surrendering the cigarette. "Throw it away. I cannot smoke. To-day I found the one of my dreams. Am I to die thus soon by her hand?"

Some of the brigands came marching out of the darkness, bringing in their midst a prisoner, his hands made fast behind his back. He was a mere boy, with a tanned and rugged face and a fearless manner.

"Is this the spy?" asked Donatus, in surprise, as the captive stood near the fire. "Who is he?"

"I know who he is!" cried Maro furiously. "Only for him and that other American all this trouble would not have come, for we should have captured Flavia this morning. I entreat the privilege of slaying him with my own hand!"

The captive was Brad Buckhart.

CHAPTER XXIX.

IN THE CAVE.

As he spoke those fierce words, the young Greek drew a knife. His face was convulsed with pa.s.sion and hatred for this daring American boy who, he believed, had caused him so much trouble. He longed to rush at Brad and stab him to the heart.

The manner of the Greek was enough to warn the Texan of his danger.

"Whoop!" cried Brad. "If the gent is anxious to enter into a carving contest, just give me a toadsticker and I'll show him my style. I opine I can interest him some."

Donatus weakly waved his hand.

"I am wearied," he said. "I must rest. When I have rested I will say what shall be done. Until that time, place the boy in the cave."

"But, chief, he is--"

The wounded brigand cut Maro short with a flashing look from his still terrible eyes.

"What I have said I have said," he declared. "Those who dare disobey me invite destruction."

Then, as directed by him, Buckhart was marched away to the cave, before which the guard still paced to and fro.

Maro sank down, his face wearing a look of bitter disappointment. Tyrus squatted beside him, whispering in his ear:

"Be content that your life is still spared, boy. It was in wrenching the pistol from you that Flavia caused the accidental shooting of Donatus. I feared you would be slain for that. The girl, the Englishman, and the hated American boy are in the cave. They are guarded. Donatus is sorely wounded and may die. Pray the G.o.ds that we may escape with our lives."

"And is this Donatus the man you befriended?" exclaimed Maro bitterly.

"Hush, you fool!" warned Tyrus; but the eyes of Donatus were closed and he seemed to be sleeping.

Brad Buckhart had looked around for Flavia and Cavendish. In the blackness of the cave he could see nothing. The men who escorted him left him, after warning him that he would be shot down the moment he tried to step forth, unless given permission to do so.

Then they departed. He saw their forms silhouetted for a moment against the glow of the fire as they pa.s.sed from the mouth of the cave. Then the guard's dark figure paced slowly across the opening.

"Well, here I am!" muttered the Texan. "I sure opine I'm in a right bad sc.r.a.pe, and I'll have to depend hugely on my pard to pull me out."

"It is indeed a bad sc.r.a.pe you are in," said the voice of a person near at hand in the darkness of the place. "How in the world did you get here?"

"h.e.l.lo!" cried the Texan, in surprise and satisfaction. "Is that your gentle warble I hear, Cavendish?"

"Yes, I am Charles Cavendish, a free-born Englishman, here held captive by these dirty Greek brigands! Some one will pay dearly for it, too!"

"Fighting mad, I see," half chuckled Buckhart. "Well, old man, this comes of monkeying round the Maid of Athens."