shall use my broken blade as a
dart and the hilt as a tomahawk. I am far better armed than before."

At this Medina drew away for a consultation with his second. Walker came
back alone.

"We protest against the use of our opponent's sword as a missile," he
stated.

"We refuse to consider the protest," rejoined Malgares.

"We then suggest that the fight be continued with rapiers. My principal
has a pair at hand."

"The naming of the weapons lies with my principal," replied Malgares.
"If you insist upon a second choice, we name duelling pistols, with
which we have come provided."

Walker returned to Medina, and after a brief consultation, brought us
his assent to the use of pistols. Malgares immediately conducted me
around to the coach. As we turned the corner, we were astonished to see
Father Rocus racing toward us on a large white mule. He waved his hand
to us, and urged his mule to yet greater speed as Malgares drew out the
pistols and turned to go back.

"Wait!" I said. "The padre wishes to speak to me. Insist upon Medina
firing both pistols as a test. That will give me time. Walker knows my
manner of loading."

Malgares nodded and disappeared as Father Rocus galloped up and drew
rein beside the coach, purple-faced and gasping for breath. I gave him
my right shoulder, else he would have fallen in his descent.

"_Virgen!_" he panted. "It is over already! You have killed him!"

"No. We have tried swords without success. Now it will be the pistols. I
will shatter his right shoulder in the joint. He shall boast no more of
his swordsmanship."

"_Nada_, my son! That is not enough. _Carrajo_! He must die! Listen!
This scoundrel has wormed himself into all the secrets of the
revolution. He has demanded Alisanda as his price--"

"My God!" I cried. "But Salcedo--?"

"If she could put her heart into luring him, Salcedo might be won over.
But now this scoundrel calls checkmate. He pledges faith to the
revolution in return for her hand. _Carrajo!_ I now know the utmost of
his baseness. He pledges faith, yet, once he has her, thinks to betray
all and gain the estate of her uncle as reward for his treachery."

"God!" I cried.

A shot rang out on the far side of the pier.

"What is that?" exclaimed the padre.

I explained, and my statement was punctuated with the report of the
second pistol.

"So--he has tried them," said the padre. "Now they will be reloaded. You
will kill him, my son! It is God's will!... Ma