Flame of Diablo Read Online Free PDF

are
    many such stories, you understand. I
    think Miguel did not believe Marcos
    would take him seriously.'
    'Mark's a geologist,' Rachel said,
    passing her tongue over her dry lips. 'I
    suppose he might think that if this mine
    existed he had as good a chance as any
    of finding it.' Or of dying, her mind ran
    crazily on. Of being drowned in a river,
    or eaten by piranha fish, or shot by
    bandits, or even swept off a mountain
    ledge by a giant condor. Hadn't she read
    somewhere that they sometimes attacked
    unwary travellers?
    Isabel's cold little hand crept into hers.
    Her great dark eyes looked enormous
    suddenly, too large for her pinched face.
    'What will you do, senorita?'
    'I don't know,' Rachel said rather
    helplessly. 'After all, we have no real
    proof that that's where Mark has gone,
    although it does seem more than likely.'
    'If and when I ever do come back, I'll be
    rich. I'll have so much bloody money, I'll
    make you eat every word you've said.
    And I shan't come back until I've got it.'
    The words seemed to sting and burn in
    her brain. Through Miguel Arviles,
    Mark now knew of the possible
    existence of an emerald mine which
    could fulfil his wild promise. Also
    through Miguel he could know of a way
    to get any gems that he found out of the
    country. Generations ago there had been
    a wild streak in the Crichtons. Perhaps
    this streak had been reborn in Mark,
    blinding him to all aspects of the
    perilous game he was playing but its
    high stakes.
    Rachel smiled reassuringly into Isabel's
    anxious eyes.
    'I expect I shall go back to England
    myself,' she said untruthfully. 'After all,
    we may be making mountains out of
    molehills.'
    'Que quiere decir eso?' Isabel's brow
    wrinkled. 'What is this molehill?'
    'It doesn't matter,' Rachel assured her. 'I
    —I'll inform the authorities here that
    Mark—seems to be missing, so that they
    can keep an eye open for him, but there
    isn't much more I can do.'
    'No,' Isabel agreed, but so despondently
    that Rachel was tempted to throw
    caution to the winds and tell her that she
    intended to set out for Diablo herself the
    following day. But she restrained
    herself. Isabel might fear her father's
    wrath, but Rachel felt sure that would
    not prevent her telling Senor Arviles
    about her plans if she got wind of them,
    and he, Rachel did not doubt, would take
    steps to prevent her from doing anything
    so foolhardy.
    She soothed her conscience by telling
    herself she did not want to cause the
    Arviles family any more anxiety on her
    behalf. But she knew in her heart that
    this .was not altogether true. Perhaps it
    was not only in Mark that the forgotten
    wild streak had surfaced.
    I'm going to Diablo, she told herself,
    even if it means coming face to face with
    the devil himself.

    CHAPTER TWO
    The bus rounded the bend with a lurch
    that almost had Rachel flying out of her
    seat. She controlled the startled cry
    which had risen to her lips, and settled
    herself
    more
    firmly.
    The
    other
    passengers seemed used to coping with
    the bus's vagaries, she noticed. Across
    the aisle, an Indian woman continued to
    feed her baby in the shelter of her ruana,
    her coppery face impassive. Rachel had
    seen as she boarded the bus that a small
    gaudy statue of the Virgin was secured
    just above the driver's seat, and there
    was a general tendency as the rickety
    vehicle rocked round a particularly
    hairpin bend, or swayed dangerously
    near the lip of some ravine, for the
    passengers and the driver to cross
    themselves devoutly.
    Rachel could sympathise with this
    evidence of devotion, but she couldn't
    help wishing at the same time that the
    driver would keep both hands on the
    wheel.
    She could understand now why the hotel
    clerk had stared at her in horror when
    she had enquired about buses, and
    strongly advised her to hire a car
    instead. Apart from her concern about
    the cost, she had not been keen to accept
    his advice. From what little she had seen
    of the drivers in Bogota, most of