“Great Scott!” cried Frank. “Are they all benumbed! Will they let her be killed before their very eyes!”
Scarcely had the last words left his lips when he sprang up, leaped into the ring, and darted to the rescue of the helpless girl.
Professor Scotch tried to grasp and hold the excited lad, but failed. With one bound, Frank sailed over the heads of those near him and reached the first barrier, another bound took him into the ring, and he snatched a scarlet cloth from the hands of a hesitating banderillero. Waving this cloth, he dashed straight toward the raging bull.
Cries of wonder came from the spectators. Not one of all the Spaniards who had paid the price of admission would have thought to go to the rescue of the girl. They would not have interfered if she had been killed by slow torture.
Frank saw nothing but the bull and the imperiled girl. He did not see other persons coming to the rescue, the banderilleros and picadores. His one thought was to divert the attention of the bull from the fallen girl.
Being a swift runner, he reached the bull in a moment, flaunted the cloth in its face, and turned its attention to himself.
The bull hesitated. In that moment, Frank saw the espada’s sword at his feet, and he snatched it up.
Then the bull charged.
The boy had seen Villasca attempt to kill the bull, and he seemed to understand how it should be done. Still, he had not time for thought, and what he did was done with the rapidity of instinct.
He dropped the cloth, aimed with the sword, and struck the bull fairly in the neck. He felt the weapon plunge into the mad animal, and leaped aside at the same instant.