On hearing this continued refusal, the soldier, already exasperated by the glance Pedro had cast at him, approached the old man and said; "You dare to face me; you refuse to comply with your obligation to supply me. Ha! and worse than all, you insult me with your tranquil contempt. Upon my life, I will make you as pliant as a glove!" and raising his hand, there resounded through the house, dry and distinct, a blow on the face.
Like an eagle darting upon its prey, Ventura dropped down, threw himself upon the Frenchman, forced the sword from his hand, and ran it through his body. The soldier fell heavily, a lifeless bulk.
"Boy, boy, what have you done?" exclaimed the old man, forgetting the affront in the peril of his son.
"My duty, father."
"You are lost!"
"And you are avenged."
"Go, save yourself! do not lose an instant."
"First, let me take away this debtor, whose account is settled. If they find him here, you will have to suffer, father."
"Never mind, never mind," exclaimed the father, "save yourself, that is the first thing to be thought of."