hakes an unruly child.
"See! You have completely lost your head. But I want you to listen to
what I am saying. Whether you are more good than evil, God must judge,
but the people of Mexico are good people, and they will not be ruled by
a man who is wholly bad. You have the power to remove this man and this
woman, yes, and this priest who dares to point out the pit at your
feet; but if you do you will never command another Mexican army. There
is no war. We are not your enemies. The world knows we are here, and it
holds you accountable for our safety. To-morrow you will have to face
the reckoning."

Longorio listened. It was plain that he recognized the truth of
O'Malley's words, but he was convulsed with rage.

"Good!" he cried. "I see my dreams dissolve, but I am not the first
great man to trade an empire for a woman. Antony, the Roman general,
laid his honor in a woman's arms. I had a shining destiny, but Mexico
will be the sufferer by my betrayal. Instead of Longorio the Deliverer,
I shall be known as Longorio the Lover, the man who gave all--"

O'Malley interrupted forcefully. "Enough of this! Come with me. I have
something more to say to you." He flung open the door into the hall
and, taking the general by the arm, fairly dragged him from the room
and into the one opposite. The lieutenant and his men looked on in
amazement, shuffling their feet and shifting their rifle butts noisily
upon the floor.

Alaire turned an anxious face to Dave, saying: "He is wonderful.
Longorio is almost--afraid of him."

"Yes; he may bring him to his senses. If he doesn't--" Dave cast his
eyes desperately over the room, conscious all the time that he was
being watched with suspicion by the men outside. He stirred restlessly
and moistened his lips. "Longorio would be crazy to injure you."

Ten minutes passed; fifteen. Alaire leaned, motionless, against the
table; Dave paced about, followed by the eyes of the soldiers. One of
the latter struck a match, and in the silence it sounded like a
gunshot. Dave started, at which the soldiers laughed. They began to
talk in murmurs. The odor of cigarette smoke drifted in to the man and
the woman.

Finally the door through which Father O'Malley and Longorio had passed
opened, and the priest emerged. He was alone. His face was flushed and
damp; his eyes were glowing. He forced the Mexicans out of his way and,
entering the living-room, closed the door behind him.

"Well?" his two friends quest