Aline received a slight scratch on her left shoulder and this settled the matter and nerved her to a supreme effort.
As he lunged again she parried, made a riposte with a reprise following like a lightning flash and swift as thought her sword was through his heart and he fell dead on the pavement.
The crowd gasped. Aline stayed not an instant, but leaped upon the low terrace wall. Standing still for a moment she tore her outer garments from her and stood there like a lovely boy, save for the great flood of hair that had come entirely loose and that was caught on the windy battlement and blown like a cloud high behind her.
Then she paused and turning to the quadrangle thronged with people she said: “How dare you play the cowards’ part, setting two armed men to attack one small girl? God will punish you, Father Martin, and you, too,” she said, pointing to Father Austin, “and the blood of the slain man will cling to you and remorse shall tear your hearts. I am only a child and it is little that I know, but I do know that there is no love for a hard heart from God or from men.
“And you, Elspeth, Janet and those I love; it is hard to say good-bye, but I must go.”
“Shoot her, shoot her!” shrieked the priests, “she blasphemes, she takes the name of God in vain.” But the angry crowd surged round the guard and would not let them move. One, however, broke loose and raised his pistol; but as he did so, Aline, to the utter astonishment of all, still holding the sword, dived into the moat.
“Our Lady shield thee, St. Aline,” cried a voice from the crowd; and as the wall was too high to see over, except from the terrace itself, they swept up in a mass, the priests, the people, the guards and all.
A few strokes took her over the water; Ian stooped and seized her under the arms, drew her out of the water, lifted her on to the one horse, vaulted himself on to the other and they fled like the wind.
Shot after shot then rang out and the bullets whistled only too alarmingly near them, but they were soon out of reach.
“Mount and pursue,” shouted Father Austin, as he stumbled over the body of the dead man, “and take this clumsy loon and bury him.”