He had expected to be taken back to the ravine, and when, having walked a considerable distance, mostly down-hill, they came to a place where his feet found hard pavement under them, he at first took it for the courtyard of the hacienda.
As the march continued, however, turning corners, descending interminable flights of stairs, passing through covered ways—he knew them by the echoes and the fact that they were out of the rain—down yet more open stairs, and still onward, he became hopelessly bewildered.
At last, when he had began to believe the downward march would last forever, his arms were released and he was given a push that sent him headlong.
There was the closing of a door, and silence. He tore the bandage from his eyes. Darkness was, all around. Fearing to move, lest he fall int
