“My wife, you must listen, and you will see that what I say is best. Think of our Felipe—what would become of him if these fiends should overpower us? Remember that not we alone would perish—and you know but too well the fate a woman would receive at their hands—but he, our bright, beautiful boy—he, too, would die!”
“Why should he live if we are killed?” faltered the wife.
“Perhaps we may beat them off, then no harm is done. But if the worst is to be, he will have a parent’s hand—a mother’s love to show him how to live. Would you doom him to death, and he so brave and innocent? And then,” as he bent his head and whispered, “think of the one that is to come; would you—”
“My husband, do not ask me; I can not—can not leave you!” and she clung to Canelo hysterically, sobbing as though her heart would break.
“Luzecita,” he cried, assuming a stern voice, while the great tears stood in his eyes, “this is folly. You must go, and soon, or it will be too late. See, if you refuse, I will kill myself before your eyes! And then you will have my death upon your soul, as well as that of your children!” and he held her tightly to his breast as he drew a pistol, and, cocking it, placed the barrel against his temple.
“Christobal—husband, what would you do?” shrieked his wife, struggling wildly to free her arms, so that she could avert the weapon.
“I have said, if you will not flee with Felipe—our son—as I believe in the holy Virgin, I will kill myself!”
“Enough—enough, I will go—my God, I will go!” faintly murmured the lady, as she swooned from grief and terror.
“This is a deeper pain to me, my darling, than death could bring,” he murmured, as he gently placed her upon a sofa, while the scalding tears fell freely from his eyes. “My God, to speak such words to her—my heart’s darling, when perhaps an hour may part us forever. It is hard, ah, so hard; but it was for her sake and our child’s,” and then he hastened from the room, after directing the terrified maid to attend to her mistress.
As he entered the hall, the cannon was fired for the second time, and the six-pound ball crashed through the barricade, shattering the furniture and scattering the splinters in every direction. One of the peons was killed outright, and several others severely wounded. Another shot as well aimed would clear the passage so that an entrance could be effected. Canelo knew that he had no time to spare, if he would save his dear ones.