“Don Mario,” said Josè, turning to the Alcalde, “until it is established that Diego has a parent’s claim to the girl, Juan and Lázaro and I will protect her with our lives. Is it not so, amigos?” addressing the two men.
“Hombre! Let me see a hand laid upon her!” cried Juan rising.
Lázaro spoke more deliberately. “Padre,” he said. “I owe you much. I know you to be q good man––not like Padre Diego. I know not what claim he may have on the girl, but this I say: I will follow and support you until it is shown me that you are in the wrong.”
Josè went over and clasped his hand. Then, to the town officials:
“Bien, amigos, we will let the matter rest thus, shall we not? We now understand one another. If harm comes to the child, the death angel will again stalk through this town, and––” he looked hard at Don Mario, whilst that official visibly shrank in size––“Bien,” he concluded, “a sharp watch will be kept over the child. We will submit to proofs––but to nothing less. And violence will bring bloodshed and death.”
“But––Caramba!” cried Don Mario, at last finding his voice. “If Diego has the Bishop back of him, he will force us to deliver the girl––or the Bishop will have the government soldiers sent here! I can ask for them––and if necessary I will!”
Josè paled slightly. He knew the Alcalde spoke truth. Don Mario, seeing that his words had taken effect, quickly followed up the advantage. “Now you, Juan and Lázaro, do you think the little whelp worth that?”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when Juan leaped across the floor and fell upon him. Josè seized the lad and, with Fernando’s help, tore him loose. Lázaro held his machete aloft, ready to strike. Josè’s voice rang out sharply:
“Hold, men! Stop! Go you to your homes now! Juan, do you stay here with me!”