"Drop! For God's sake, drop, Dolores!"
"But I can't drop in the dark! I can't!"
"For Christ's sake, Dolores, drop!" he cried. "Chica! chica! Break her grip! Shove her hands loose! Quick! Damn it! here they come!"
At that instant came a flurry of falling skirts; a blow of soft flesh staggered the drummer and almost brought him to his knees. An aura of faint perfume surrounded him. The breath burst from the girl's strained lungs as she jarred through her lover's arms to the ground. The next moment they had straightened themselves and set out running, hand in hand, down the calle.
"To the cathedral," gasped the señora. "We'll be safe there!"
From behind them came shouts, then a rifle-shot. A moment later the fugitives ran past the turn in the calle and for the moment were screened from rifle fire. They had hardly turned when the griffe girl came pattering behind them. She was winged with terror for her mistress.
"Oh, Heart of Pity! They are firing! Run! Run!"
The maid's excitement really hurried them on faster than the shots had done; but the señora already was panting with the exhaustion of the gently bred.
"I—I—how far do we have to run?" she gasped.