he house he encountered Jose and Don Jorge.

"Don Mario," began Jose, before the Alcalde could get his words
shaped, "it is useless. Carmen remains with us. We will defend her
with our lives. Be advised, Don Mario, for the consequences of
thoughtless action may be incalculable!"

"_Caramba_!" bellowed the irate official, "but, cow-face! do you know
that His Grace supports me? That I but execute his orders? _Dios
arriba_! if you do not at once deliver to me your paramour--"

He got no further. Rosendo, who had been standing just within the
door, suddenly pushed Jose and Don Jorge aside and, stalking out, a
tower of flesh, confronted the raging Alcalde. For a moment he gazed
down into the pig-eyes of the man. Then, with a quick thrust of his
thick arm, he projected his huge fist squarely into Don Mario's
bloated face. The Alcalde went down like a shot.

Neither Jose nor Don Jorge, as they rushed in between Rosendo and his
fallen adversary, had any adequate idea of the consequences of the old
man's precipitate action. As they assisted the prostrate official to
his unsteady feet they knew not that to Rosendo, simple, peace-loving,
and great of heart, had fallen the lot to inaugurate hostilities in
the terrible anticlerical war which now for four dismal years was to
tear Colombia from end to end, and leave her prostrate and exhausted
at last, her sons decimated, her farms and industries ruined, and her
neck beneath the heavy heel of a military despot at Bogota, whose
pliant hand would still be guided by the astute brain of Rome.

By the time the startled Alcalde had been set again upon his feet a
considerable concourse had gathered at the scene. Many stood in
wide-eyed horror at what had just occurred. Others broke into loud and
wild talk. The crowd rapidly grew, and in a few minutes the _plaza_
was full. Supporters of both sides declaimed and gesticulated
vehemently. In the heat of the arguments a blow was struck. Then
another. The Alcalde, when he found his tongue, shrilly demanded the
arrest of Rosendo and his family, including the priest and Don Jorge.
A dozen of his party rushed forward to execute the order. Rosendo had
slipped between Jose and Don Jorge and into his house. In a trice he
emerged with a great _machete_. The people about him fell back. His
eyes blazed like live coals, and his breath seemed to issue from his
dilating nostrils like clouds of steam. To approach him meant instant
death. Don Jorge crept b