"Call your men, quick," he cried in
a voice that sent the soldier leaping back into the night.
Alaire was clinging to Dave, merely clutching him the tighter when
he tried to unclasp her hold. Her movement into the shelter of his
rival's arms infuriated Longorio, who uttered an exclamation and
fumbled uncertainly with his holster. But his fingers were clumsy.
He could not take his eyes from the pair, and he seemed upon the
point of rushing forward to tear them apart.
"Don't touch her! Don't--" he began, cursing in a high-pitched
voice. "God! What a reckoning!" Then he stamped his feet, he wrung
his hands, he called shrilly at the top of his voice: "Lieutenant!
Ho, Pancho! You fellows! Quickly!" Under the stress of his
excitement the feminine side of his character betrayed itself.
Alaire felt her newly made husband gather himself for a spring; he
was muttering to her to release him; he was trying to push her
aside, but she held fast with the strength of desperation.
"You can't harm us," she declared, flinging her words defiantly at
the Mexican. "You dare not. You are too late. Father O'Malley has
just married us."
Longorio uttered a peculiar, wordless cry of dismay; his mouth
fell open; his arms dropped; he went limp all over, paralyzed
momentarily by surprise and horror; his eyes protruded; he swayed
as if his sight had blurred.
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