"No, you won't. I'm not afraid. Come, you can get rid of me in a minute. The truth is, I'm d——d hard up; got into two or three little unpleasantnesses, and got out only by a scratch. I want to get away from here—it's unhealthy here for me—but I've got no money. Saw you down town with that pompous Greaser the other day; know him well; he's got lots of money; and I thought that, for love and affection, as they say in the law, and in consideration of our former relations, you might help me to some of his spare coin."
"You miserable man," she cried, beside herself, "is it not enough that you blasted my life's happiness? Must I be dragged down to the very lowest degradation with you? Oh, Charlie," she added, in changed, softened tones, "what would your mother say to all this?"
"And my daddy the parson," he laughed, hoarsely. "Yes, we know all that. But here, Nell," he went on, while a last glimmer of shame or contrition passed over his once handsome face, "I don't want to hurt you, my girl; you've always been a trump, by G——; I am willing you should become the respected wife of Don Pedro Lopez, but I must have money, or money's worth. That cluster-diamond on your finger; tell the Greaser you lost it. Or pull out your purse; I know it is full."
"Nothing," she said, slowly and determinedly, "nothing shall you have from me—a woman you have so wronged and deceived—"
"Stop, Nell; I haven't time to wait for a sermon. Give me what you've got— Oh, here's h—— to pay and no pitch hot," he interrupted himself; "there's the Don, and he's heard it all."
He spoke true; Don Pedro stood beside them, frozen into a statue. At last he breathed.
"Yes, heard all. And I would have made you my wife—you a divorced woman. Oh, Santa Maria! She divorced of such a man—for I know you, Randal," he continued, lashing himself into a fury—"horse-thief, stage-robber, gambler. It was you who killed my friend Mariano Anzar after robbing him at cards—murderer! You shall not escape me as you escaped the officers of the law. Hombres! catch the murderer!" he shouted towards the house, as he made a dart at the man, who turned at bay, but halted when he saw that the Don was not armed.
"Stop your infernal shouting and don't touch me," he said, in a low, threatening voice. But the Don was brave, and his blood was up; he sprang upon the man, shouting again; they closed and struggled, and when the man heard footsteps swiftly approaching, he drew back with an effort, and hissing, "You would have it so, idiot," he raised his pistol and fired.
Before the smoke cleared away he had vanished, and the people who came found Don Pedro stretched on the ground. His life was almost spent, but his energy had not deserted him. He gave what information and directions were necessary for the prosecution of his murderer, and Manuel, who was among the excited throng, threw himself on his horse to head the fugitive off. The others lifted the wounded man tenderly from the ground, bore him gently into the house, and frowned with hostile eyes upon Nora; it had taken possession of their minds at once that, in some unexplained manner, the Gringa was the cause of all this woe.