Walker bowed. "Your Reverence is welcome. Señor Robinson, the terms have been stated to my principal. I now repeat them. You will each stand in the present position, with pistol pointed upward. Lieutenant Malgares will say, 'One, two, three. Fire! One, two, three.' At the word 'Fire!' you can aim and fire, during the time of the second count of three. If either fires before the word, or after the count, you know the penalty. Gentlemen, are you ready?"
Medina and I bowed, and Walker took his station with Father Rocus and Malgares against the face of the pier, out of the line of fire.
"Ready!" called Malgares. We raised our pistols as directed. "One!" he counted. "Two!—"
Down came Medina's pistol! I saw the black dot of the muzzle only to lose it instantly in a puff of smoke. The ball grazed the side of my head. So unexpected and sudden was the dastardly deed, I stood motionless, the report of the pistol ringing in my ears, but listening for Malgares to continue the count. Instead he uttered a sharp cry and rushed upon Medina. Before the aide could so much as turn, Malgares's Toledo lunged through his heart.
Whipping his sword from the body as it fell prone, Malgares faced Walker, with his head high and his eyes flashing.
"Witness!" he demanded.
Walker bowed. "He fired before the word. You have done right to strike him dead."
"You have done right! Satanas has claimed his own!" confirmed Father Rocus. Suddenly he thought of me and hastened to my side. "We forget Juan! My son, did the ball strike you?"
I put up my hand and reached out to him one of my locks, which had been clipped by the ball.
"So close as that!" exclaimed Walker.