Part 55 (2/2)
”He swears you hired him.”
”Bah! The word of a pelador.”
In spite of the man's contemptuous tone Dave saw the expression in his face and made a quick decision. ”There's a limit to what you dare to do, Longorio. I'm unarmed; I make no resistance, so there is no excuse for violence. I surrender to you, and claim protection for myself and my wife.”
But Longorio was not to be tricked. ”Good!” he cried, triumphantly. ”I have been looking forward to something like this, and I shall give myself a great pleasure.” He laid a hand upon the doork.n.o.b, but before he could turn it the Catholic priest had him by the arm, and with a strength surprising in one of his stature wrenched him away. Father O'Malley's face was white and terrible; his voice was deep, menacing; the hand he raised above Longorio seemed to brandish a weapon.
”Stop!” he thundered. ”Are you a madman? Destruction hangs over you; destruction of body and soul. You dare not separate those whom G.o.d hath joined.”
”G.o.d! G.o.d!” the other shrilled. ”I don't believe in Him. I am a G.o.d; I know of no other.”
”Blasphemer!” roared the little man. ”Listen, then. So surely as you harm these people, so surely do you kill your earthly prospects. You, the first man of Mexico, the Dictator indeed! Think what you are doing before it is too late. Is your dream of greatness only a dream? Will you sacrifice yourself and all your aspirations in the heat of this unholy and impossible pa.s.sion? Tonight, now, you must choose whether you will be famous or infamous, glorious or shameful, honored or dishonored! Restrain your hatred and conquer your l.u.s.t, or forego for ever your dreams of empire and pa.s.s into oblivion.”
”You are a meddler,” Longorio stormed. ”You make a loud noise, but I shall rid Mexico of your kind. We shall have no more of you priests.”
Father O'Malley shook the speaker as a parent shakes an unruly child.
”See! You have completely lost your head. But I want you to listen to what I am saying. Whether you are more good than evil, G.o.d must judge, but the people of Mexico are good people, and they will not be ruled by a man who is wholly bad. You have the power to remove this man and this woman, yes, and this priest who dares to point out the pit at your feet; but if you do you will never command another Mexican army. There is no war. We are not your enemies. The world knows we are here, and it holds you accountable for our safety. To-morrow you will have to face the reckoning.”
Longorio listened. It was plain that he recognized the truth of O'Malley's words, but he was convulsed with rage.
”Good!” he cried. ”I see my dreams dissolve, but I am not the first great man to trade an empire for a woman. Antony, the Roman general, laid his honor in a woman's arms. I had a s.h.i.+ning destiny, but Mexico will be the sufferer by my betrayal. Instead of Longorio the Deliverer, I shall be known as Longorio the Lover, the man who gave all--”
O'Malley interrupted forcefully. ”Enough of this! Come with me. I have something more to say to you.” He flung open the door into the hall and, taking the general by the arm, fairly dragged him from the room and into the one opposite. The lieutenant and his men looked on in amazement, shuffling their feet and s.h.i.+fting their rifle b.u.t.ts noisily upon the floor.
Alaire turned an anxious face to Dave, saying: ”He is wonderful.
Longorio is almost--afraid of him.”
”Yes; he may bring him to his senses. If he doesn't--” Dave cast his eyes desperately over the room, conscious all the time that he was being watched with suspicion by the men outside. He stirred restlessly and moistened his lips. ”Longorio would be crazy to injure you.”
Ten minutes pa.s.sed; fifteen. Alaire leaned, motionless, against the table; Dave paced about, followed by the eyes of the soldiers. One of the latter struck a match, and in the silence it sounded like a gunshot. Dave started, at which the soldiers laughed. They began to talk in murmurs. The odor of cigarette smoke drifted in to the man and the woman.
Finally the door through which Father O'Malley and Longorio had pa.s.sed opened, and the priest emerged. He was alone. His face was flushed and damp; his eyes were glowing. He forced the Mexicans out of his way and, entering the living-room, closed the door behind him.
”Well?” his two friends questioned, anxiously.
”I've done all I can. The rest is out of our hands.” The little man sat down heavily and mopped his forehead.
”What does he say?”
”He told me to come here and wait. I never saw a man so torn, so distracted.”
”Then he is wavering. Oh-h!” Alaire clasped her hands in thanksgiving, but the Father cautioned her:
”Don't be too sanguine. He is not afraid of consequences. He appears to have no conscience. He is without mercy and seems lost to shame. I have never met a man quite like him. Do you know what he feels at this moment? Chagrin. Yes, mortification raised to the highest pitch, and a sort of stupefaction that you should prefer another man to him. He can't understand your lack of taste.” Father O'Malley smiled faintly.
”Conceited idiot,” Dave growled.
<script>