“Oh, my God!” one of the soldiers cried out suddenly; and the Governor glanced hastily back. Surely———
The blood-stained heap on the grass had once more begun to struggle and moan. The doctor flung himself down and lifted the head upon his knee.
“Make haste!” he cried in desperation. “You savages, make haste! Get it over, for God's sake! There's no bearing this!”
Great jets of blood poured over his hands, and the convulsions of the figure that he held in his arms shook him, too, from head to foot. As he looked frantically round for help, the priest bent over his shoulder and put a crucifix to the lips of the dying man.
“In the name of the Father and of the Son——”
The Gadfly raised himself against the doctor's knee, and, with wide-open eyes, looked straight upon the crucifix.
Slowly, amid hushed and frozen stillness, he lifted the broken right hand and pushed away the image. There was a red smear across its face.
“Padre—is your—God—satisfied?”
His head fell back on the doctor's arm.