Perhaps my turn would come next.
The bully, who would have laid a hand on the child, scrambled to his feet.
He made off in so hasty a manner that it struck me as ludicrous, nor did it occur to us that we should have prevented his flight until it was too late.
That was a bad blunder, which was apt to cost us dear.
He no sooner found himself clear of us than he began to whoop it up at a lively rate, calling “Murder! thieves! fire!” in a manner that was bound to attract attention, for though the music was on, the boom of his great voice echoed far above all else.
“That was well done, sir,” said Hildegarde, “but we must surely run for it now, for you have knocked down the alcalde himself!”
That was certainly a wretched piece of luck all around, but having done so stupendous a wrong we were dolts not to have tied him neck and crop and thrust him into some corner to cool his heels while we made off.
Robbins did not seem to care an iota; I believe he would just as soon have given the same medicine to the president of the republic, should an occasion arise that called for heroic treatment of this character.
Carmencita no longer tugged at his coat to hold him back—indeed, it was just the opposite; for, horrified at what he had done to the doughty mayor, who in her young eyes was a very august individual, to be greatly feared, she was bent on urging him to make all haste to leave the hacienda.
All of us were of one mind—we did not seem to have the remotest desire to linger there; any natural curiosity we might be supposed to feel concerning what our worthy alcalde might do on his return, backed by a troop of guests, was wholly swallowed up by the thought of reaching the garden, and eventually the calle.