Felipe's last and greatest revelation was the little bell that hung in the arch of the vault, to be connected by a string with Pablo's house. The string would be available to the old man's hand from many places, Felipe said. The cord that had moved the bell and warned the Franciscans was rotted away now; Pablo would run another one without delay.
It seemed a rather childish arrangement to Henderson, but, as Felipe had such evident pride and confidence in it, he tried to make it appear that he believed it a most masterly contrivance.
"Here we can lie," said Felipe, "until they believe we have gone from the country in some mysterious way and relax their vigilance. Then we can slip out, and make our way to Monterey. This is better than making a dash with them hot at our heels. It is the crafty, Franciscan way."
"There is good argument in it," Henderson admitted, feeling that it was so.
"And if some traitor betrays us, or some spy creeps like a snake and luck leads him to us, then the bell will warn us, we can ride away before they can arrive, and be miles ahead of them."
"That is excellent, Felipe," Henderson declared. He went to the door of the retreat, doubly hidden inside a high adobe wall and the young trees and shrubs which had sprung thickly there. It was concealed so well that one might pass within a yard of it and be no wiser.
"Asleep or awake the bell will warn us, for they
