But I must and will have the box. Out with it at once, or I will shoot!"
During this conversation Ben had run into the monastery, and he was now mounting the well-worn stone stairs, two steps at a time, with Stummer and Casey close at his heels. The door to the lighted room was on a crack, and he peeped in.
The scene was truly a dramatic one. Standing upon one side of a table was a woman of twenty or twenty-two, with black hair, black eyes, and a face that looked like that of a gypsy. On one cheek was a rough, red scar, quite spoiling the little beauty of which she might otherwise have been possessed.
Opposite to this strange-looking creature stood a man, evidently of mixed blood, in which the Malayan predominated, tall, thin, with short stubby hair, high cheek-bones, and teeth which showed like those of a wolf. He was dressed in the uniform of a Tagalog soldier and held a pistol in his hand.
Both the man and the woman were almost breathless, as if they had been running hard. The woman had her hands up as if to protect herself from a shot. As Ben looked into the room the man raised his pistol to the level of the woman's head.
