I shall be glad to think, when this
time of danger has passed, that we owed something to your invocation."

It was in his mind that he must shoot her within a few seconds, and the
immeasurable agony of the thought reflected itself in his face. He had
no notion that she would give his words a more direct significance than
he intended them to bear. But a strange, hoarse yell of triumph, the
war-cry of an Alaculof leader who had hauled himself to the bridge and
found it undefended, warned her in the same moment that all was not
well with the defense.

She sprang towards the saloon stairs.

"Do you hear that?" she cried in a ringing voice. "There are Indians
on board. Come! We must not stay here when our friends are fighting
for their lives."

Christobal knew that this active girl would readily outstrip him in a
race to the deck. She was already several feet distant, but he must
detain her, no matter what the cost; if she fell into the clutches of
the ghouls then over-running the _Kansas_, she might not be killed, but
only wounded, and her sufferings would be inconceivable ere the end
came.

"You are wrong," he shouted with convincing vehemence. "But, if you
wish to see for yourself, at least allow me to go first."

While he was speaking, he ran forward. She thought he meant what he
said, and waited for him. Then he caught her right arm firmly in his
left hand.

"Let us wait here a moment or two," he breathed.

"No, no; I am going now. You shall not hold me back. You don't
understand. The man I love is up there, perhaps surrounded by savages.
Let me go, I tell you! If he is dying I shall die by his side. Let me
go! Would you have me strike you?" She turned on him like an angry
goddess, and strove to wrest herself from his grip. At that instant
Tollemache and Frascuelo, the only survivors of the deadly struggle
forward, were driven back by a rush of Indians. They caught sight of
others leaping down the bridge companion.

"To the saloon, Courtenay!" roared Tollemache, clearing a path for
himself with an iron bar which he swung in both hands. Followed by
Frascuelo, he jumped inside the saloon gangway. Four savages followed,
two entering through the doorway behind him. One raised a hatchet-like
implement, and would have brained the Englishman had not Christobal
whipped out his revolver and shot him through the body, releasing the
girl's wrist in his flurry. The Indian pitched headlong down the