Blood soon flowed in torrents, and the victims increased in number, while the fury grew no less; nor did the assailed attempt to defend themselves.
At last the barrier gave way, and the wretches rushed out of doors, flying straight on, without knowing whither, in the sole thought of escaping from the butchery.
At this moment the corporal entered the room. A lamentable spectacle met his eyes: the floor was strewn with dead bodies, and wounded men weltering in their blood.
But he could not restrain a cry of horror when his eyes fell on Don Torribio. The lieutenant was tying the head of Don Pablo, which he had hacked off with his sword, to the long tresses of the fainting Clarita. The officer had been slightly wounded by the girl in the hip and arm, and blood was flowing from his garments.
"There," said he, having finished to his satisfaction the knot that bound Clarita's tresses to the long locks of the arriero; "since she loves him so dearly, when she comes to herself she can admire him at leisure, he is all her own now; no one will take him from her."
Then he looked for a time at the pale and fainting girl, with an expression of lust impossible to describe.
"Pooh!" said he, with a shrug of the shoulders; "Why should I? Let us wait till she opens her eyes. I shall have plenty of time to make love to her; and I want to enjoy her surprise when she wakes up."
And without another look at his victims, he set himself to help his soldiers in the massacre.
The first step he took, he encountered Luco.
"Halloa!" cried he; "where have you been, while we have been cutting up the salvajes unitarios? God take me! Here you come quietly; your sword in the sheath, and not a drop of blood on your clothes! What is the meaning of this conduct, comrade? Are you turned traitor, too, by chance?"