“Whatever happens to-night, aunt,” she cried, her big eyes glowing in a growing excitement, her red-gold hair shining like burnished copper in the light from the lamp which was so near to it, “I hope God may forgive you this terrible wicked spirit which is driving you. Some day I may find it in my heart to forgive you. That which I have to do you are driving me to, and I pray God I may succeed.”
As the last word left her lips she seized the lamp from the table, and, with all her strength, hurled it through the open window. As it sped it extinguished itself and crashed to the ground outside, leaving the room in utter darkness. At the same instant she sprang to the sill of the open window, and flung herself from the room. As she, too, fell to the ground a shot rang out behind her, and she felt the bullet tear through her masses of coiled hair.
But her excitement was at fever heat. She waited for nothing. Her lover’s life was claiming every nerve in her body. His life, and that other’s. She scrambled to her feet and dodged clear of the window, just as a chorus of harsh execration reached her ears. She looked toward the barns and hay corrals whence the sound came, and, on the instant, a hideous terror seized upon her. The barn was afire! The hay had just been fired! And, in the inky blackness of the night, the ruddy glow leapt suddenly and lit up the figures of a crowd of men, now shouting and blaspheming at the result of the shot from the house.
For one moment Joan stood still, trembling in every limb, heedless of the vengeful creature behind her. She was overwhelmed by the now utter and complete hopelessness of her case. Her horses were in the barn which had been fired. And they were her only means of reaching her lover.
Then in a moment, as she beheld the shouting crowd coming toward the house, voicing their intent to burn that, along with its occupants, her mind went back to those still within. The wretched woman, whose death by burning might save the Padre, and her rough but faithful housekeeper. Regardless of all consequences to herself, now regardless even of the lives of those two men she had hoped to save, she ran back to the house.
Flight alone could save the women inside from this drunken crowd. Flight—and at once. For, resentful at the shot which had felled one of their comrades, the lawless minds of these creatures saw but one course to pursue. Well enough Joan knew their doctrine of a life for a life. She must go back. She must save those two from this ravening horde.