Father O'Malley's face was white and terrible;
his voice was deep, menacing; the hand he raised above Longorio
seemed to brandish a weapon.
"Stop!" he thundered. "Are you a madman? Destruction hangs over
you; destruction of body and soul. You dare not separate those
whom God hath joined."
"God! God!" the other shrilled. "I don't believe in Him. I am a
god; I know of no other."
"Blasphemer!" roared the little man. "Listen, then. So surely as
you harm these people, so surely do you kill your earthly
prospects. You, the first man of Mexico, the Dictator indeed!
Think what you are doing before it is too late. Is your dream of
greatness only a dream? Will you sacrifice yourself and all your
aspirations in the heat of this unholy and impossible passion?
Tonight, now, you must choose whether you will be famous or
infamous, glorious or shameful, honored or dishonored! Restrain
your hatred and conquer your lust, or forego for ever your dreams
of empire and pass into oblivion."
"You are a meddler," Longorio stormed. "You make a loud noise, but
I shall rid Mexico of your kind. We shall have no more of you
priests."
Father O'Malley shook the speaker as a parent shakes an unruly
child.
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