which is closed now by the fallen walls. The exit remains, with shelter for us, as you shall see."
The ancient Guiterrez, grandfather of Felipe, had used this underground vault to store his wine casks, pending the day when he might need it to escape with his family from the just and long-sleeping vengeance of the oppressed Indians, who labored in virtual slavery on the vast mission estates, and the lands of the hidalgos who lived in harmony with them in the tyranny they jointly exercised over the land. It was an elaborate work for his day, no doubt, but in Gabriel Henderson's eyes it appeared crude and useless as either a place of concealment or defense against an intelligent and determined foe. But, like Don Abrahan's house, its chief commendable feature was the many means of escaping from it. There had been four of these long passages originally, two of which remained.
The existence of this old underground refuge was not known to many now, Felipe said. There were tales of it, romantic and tragic, but only three or four old men, Pablo included, could lead the way to it. And these were loyal men, who would die before they would betray him.
Within the underground recess there was room for several horses as well as people. At the word of alarm, one could mount and go before those who looked for him even gained suspicion from the cunning old Pablo that he was within miles of that spot.
