ng
between two decisions. Then he shook his head slowly. "Padre," he
said, though his voice trembled, "I, too, remain."

The Alcalde received his answer with a burst of inarticulate rage. He
rushed back to his followers with his arms waving wildly. "Shoot!" he
screamed. "Shoot! Pierce the doors! Batter them down! _Compadres_, get
the poles and burst in the shutters. _Caramba!_ it is the Government
they are defying!"

A volley from the rifles followed his words. The thick doors shook
under the blast. A bullet pierced the wall and whizzed past Carmen.
Jose seized the girl and drew her down under a bench. The startled
bats among the roof beams fluttered wildly about through the heavy
gloom. Frightened rats scurried around the altar. The rusty bell in
the tower cried out as if in protest against the sacrilege. Juan burst
into tears and crept beneath a bench.

"Padre," said Rosendo, "it is only a question of time when the doors
will fall. See--that bullet went clean through! _Bien_, let us place
the women back of the altar, while we men stand here at one side of
the doors, so that when they fall we may dash out and cut our way
through the crowd. If we throw ourselves suddenly upon them, we may
snatch away a rifle or two. Then Don Jorge and I, with the lads here,
may drive them back--perhaps beat them! But my first blow shall be for
Don Mario! I vow here that, if I escape this place, he shall not live
another hour!"

"Better so, Rosendo, than that they should take us alive. But--Carmen?
Do we leave her to fall into Don Mario's hands?"

Rosendo's voice, low and cold, froze the marrow in the priest's bones.
"Padre, she will not fall into the Alcalde's hands."

"God above! Rosendo, do you--"

A piercing cry checked him. "_Santa Virgen! Padre--!_" Lazaro had
collapsed upon the floor. Rosendo and Jose hurried to him.

"Padre!" The man's breath came in gasps. "Padre--I confess--pray for
me. It struck me--here!" He struggled to lay a hand upon his bleeding
breast.

"To the altar, _amigos_!" cried Don Jorge, ducking his head as a
bullet sang close to it.

Seizing the expiring Lazaro, they hurriedly dragged him down the aisle
and took refuge back of the brick altar. The bullets, now piercing the
walls of the church with ease, whizzed about them. One struck the
pendant figure of the Christ, and it fell crashing to the floor.
Rosendo stood in horror, as if he expected a miracle to follow this
act of sacrilege.

"Oh, God!