“But,” he coolly proceeded, “only a few minutes are left now.”
“My good man, whatever are you talking about?”
“And after the few minutes, we’ll have the shooting. I came to invite Your Mercy.”
“Shoot whom?”
“There is but one prisoner.”
“You mean Señor Murguía? The American was acquitted, I believe.”
“It’s the other way, señorita. They were both tried over again, and then, the American was condemned.”
“Mademoiselle,” ejaculated Ney, “you are deathly––”
“I am not!” Jacqueline protested furiously. “It’s the powder.”
But Berthe knew better. Her mistress used it not, for all the roguish freckle on her nose-tip. Tiburcio, too, was satisfied as to her sudden pallor. She would save him the American, he decided. “Your Mercy had best hasten,” he urged her frankly.