"I am here, man of blood. Spare them. But with me do your pleasure; I am in the hands of my God, now as ever."
At the command of his general, Valdez arose to assist Julia down; but as he took the first step, he stopped short as if thunder-stricken.
Nor was it wonderful, for as he took that step, one short crack came echoing from without, the well-known death-shot of the certain rifle—then pealed a bugle, high and shrill—the terrified alarm—and then crack! crack! went the deadly rifle of the west.
And high above all other sounds, and high arose the cry of the Texans—"Remember the Alama, the Alamo?" and Gordon's name was mingled with the din; and the fierce cheer of the Partisan, "Pierre, Pierre! charge for Pierre and glory!" completed the dismay of the surprised and baffled murderers.
As the first din of that surprise fell on the startled ears of the Mexican commander, he sprang to his feet, unsheathed his sword, and the other officers following his example, they dashed forward gallantly to find their men, and lead them to the charge—all save one, Valdez.
"And why does the gallant Colonel Valdez loiter in the rear, when his men are in action?" asked Juan de Alava, sneeringly.
"I might retort the question, sirrah, were it becoming me to reply to a prisoner and a traitor."
"And did you so retort, sirrah," answered Alava quietly, "I might reply that a prisoner has no right to be in action, did it become me to reply to a liar."
"Now mark me. Before these ladies whom you have insulted, would have outraged, I strike you thus. I spurn you with my foot thus and thus!" and as he spoke he suited the action to the word, giving him a severe blow with the flat of his sword across the shoulders, and actually kicking him twice with his foot.
Both men were in the prime of life, young, active, sinewy, and skilful to a wonder in the use of their weapons. Juan was as brave as his own steel, and Valdez, a base coward, was forced to fight for his life.