ehind him and, gaining the house, collected
the terrified women and held them in readiness for flight. Juan,
Lazaro, and a number of others surrounded Jose and faced the angry
multitude.

The strain was broken by the frenzied Alcalde, who rushed toward
Rosendo. The old man swung his enormous _machete_ with a swirl that,
had it met the official, would have clean decapitated him. But,
fortunately, one of the priest's supporters threw out his foot, and
the corpulent Alcalde fell heavily over it and bit the dust. Jose
threw himself upon Rosendo. The old man staggered with the shock and
gave way. The priest turned to the excited crowd. Holding up both
hands high above his head, he sent out his voice clear and loud.

"Children! In the name of the Church! In the name of the Christ! The
blessed Virgin--"

"What know you of the blessed Virgin, priest of Satan?" shouted a
rough follower of the Alcalde.

"Aye!" yelled another. "Writer of foul books! Seducer of young
girls!"

Julio Gomez stooped and took up a large piece of shale. He threw it
with all his force, just as the priest again strove to make his voice
heard above the din. It struck Jose full on the forehead. The jagged
stone cut deeply, and the red blood spurted. Jose fell into the arms
of Lazaro and was dragged into the house.

Then Rosendo, with a mad yell, plunged wildly into the crowd. A dozen
arms sought to hold him, but in vain. Julio saw the terrifying
apparition hurtling down upon him. He turned and fled, but not before
the great knife had caught him on its point as it swung down and
ripped a deep gash the full length of his naked back.

Then the last vestige of reason fled from the mob, and chaos took the
reins. Back and forth through the _plaza_, in front of the church
where hung the image of the Prince of Peace, the maddened people
surged, fighting like demons, raining blows with clubs, fists, and
_machetes_, stabbing with their long, wicked knives, hurling sharp
stones, gouging, ripping, yelling, shrieking, calling upon Saints and
Virgin to curse their enemies and bless their blows. Over the heads of
them all towered the mighty frame of Rosendo. Back before his
murderous _machete_ fell the terrified combatants. His course among
them was that of a cannon ball. Dozens hung upon his arms, his
shoulders, or flung themselves about his great legs. His huge body,
slippery and reeking, was galvanized into energy incarnate. Sparks
seemed to flash from his eye