“COMMAND ME, SEÑORITA!”
He ignored her a moment longer, running to the window and looking out
across the plaza. The doors of the church were closed, but from the
windows streamed hot lead, and from all parts of the plaza, and from
the rear outside, hostiles were firing at every aperture.
“’Twill not last much longer,” he said, laughing again, and then turned
from the window and confronted the girl.
“So you escaped the rancho?” he went on. “Very clever of you,
_señorita_, though I cannot imagine why you should leave security and
come to this place, where there has been grave danger. You may be glad
to know that your escape caused three Indian guards to lose their
lives. I had promised them death if you evaded them, and I always keep
my promises. I handed them over to their chiefs--it was enough.”
“Oh!” Her cry was of horror, pity, loathing, a world of expression in a
single syllable.
“We investigated the fireplace and chimney, and found an open window,”
he continued. “It was beyond me that you and your _duenna_ could open
the chimney in that manner, for I thought at first, of course, that
you had done so. Then I remembered the stampede of horses, knew you
must have had a mount to make the journey to the mission, and realised
there was help from another source. Who aided you, _señorita_?”
“A gambler, swindler and thief, a wronger of women and a worthless
vagabond, according to the world’s estimate of him,” she replied. “Yet
a man beside whom you are not worthy to crawl, Rojerio Rocha, despite
the blood that flows in your veins.”
“I can imagine but one such contradictory paragon. So it was this man
you call Captain Fly-by-Night?”
“It was, _señor_.”
“Did Señorita Anita Fernandez so far forget herself as to ride through
the night, even with her _duenna_, in company with such a character?”
he sneered. “I had it in mind to wed you, _señorita_, but if you have
been consorting with such persons----”
“_Señor!_” she cried angrily, her face aflame.
“That touches you, does it? However, I am master now. As you are aware,
the revolt has almost made a winning here at San Diego de Alcalá.
Another quarter hour and my hostiles will be inside that church and
attend to their enemies. An hour, and the mission and presidio will
be black ruins, and we return to the rancho for a wedding feast and
honeymoon, _señorita_ mine. So your escape availed you nothing. Did
you hope to escape me again by remaining in the guest house while the
others fled into the church? Or, perhaps, did you hope I’d find you
here, alone?”
“Renegade!” she taunted.
“Hard names do not injure me, _señorita_, in the hour of my success;
and, as I told you before, you are beautiful when aroused and angry.
’Twas a pretty fight your friends put up here at the mission, and cost
us many men, but there was only one end possible. Have you heard of my
exploit, _señorita_? And that reminds me--I was accepted as a friend
by the men in the plaza, so you must not have told them of our little
interview out at the rancho.”
“I told them nothing,” she said.
“Hah! You had that much affection for me, then? You loved your family
name that much?”
“But I regret now that I did not,” she answered.
“It would have been the same had you told. It was a great trick we
played. Hah! Like fools they swallowed the bait. I broke over the hill
and ran, with hostiles pursuing and firing at me. Those at the wall
helped me inside, and I gasped out that I had been held for torture and
had made my escape. It was a pretty bit of acting, I assure you. Then
another attack--and while all were busy it was an easy matter to slip
into the storehouse, put the guard out of the way and throw open the
window. In my friends tumbled--to take the defenders in the rear. Poor
fools!”
“I would to God I had told them!” she cried.
“But you did not, eh? Why not make the best of matters, _señorita_? I
am master and I have said you are to be my bride. Why not surrender
gracefully, when there is nothing else left to do?”
“There is something else left to do,” she answered. “There always is
death waiting.”
Now she stood up and faced him, and he saw that she clutched a poniard
in her hand. The terror had gone out of her face, and in its place was
cool determination. Her lips were set tightly, her bosom heaved with
emotion. There was no doubt in the mind of the man that the girl before
him would plunge that knife into her heart. He knew the proud breed of
the Fernandez.
“There is always death, and it will be welcome,” she went on. “Why
should I live? Do you think, Rojerio Rocha, you ever could claim me for
wife? Do you think I would mate with a renegade murderer whose hands
are stained with loyal blood? Can I live, even if I escape you, with
the knowledge that men and women know one of my family has done such a
thing?”
“If such a thing as escape were possible, you could,” he returned,
lightly. “Unless you have told them, none here knows I have turned
traitor, _señorita_ mine. They have been too busy to watch or question
me since they aided me over the wall. And in a few minutes all will
be dead, since that is the better way, and dead people do not talk of
treason.” A pause. “But escape is not possible.”
“Then--this--” She lifted the poniard again.
“So you would slay yourself, eh? You are young and beautiful to die,
_señorita_. It is a foolish whim.”
He did not take his eyes from hers. He knew she would drive the dagger
home if he attempted to approach. Before he could reach her side and
take the weapon from her, she would thrust it into her breast. He did
not doubt it for an instant.
He tried to think of a subterfuge to get her close to him, so he could
tear the poniard from her hand. If he could make her angry, so she
would attack him, it might be possible.
“Were this man you call Fly-by-Night here in my stead, _señorita_,” he
sneered, “I presume you would drop dagger and rush into his arms. You
speak of a stain on the family name--when you have allowed such a man
to rescue you, have ridden the miles between rancho and mission in his
arms, perhaps----”
Her face flamed again, and he laughed scornfully.
“Captain Fly-by-Night acted the gentleman and caballero,” she replied
hotly. “That is more than you have done, Rojerio Rocha.”
“You look upon me with hatred, and upon this fellow with eyes of love,
perhaps.”
“_Señor!_ It is like you to insult a defenceless girl! Did I have to
give love to one of you, most assuredly it would be this man of whom
you sneer. For you are as far below him, Rojerio Rocha, as the land is
below the sky; and, knowing how low he is considered, that speaks my
estimation for you!”
“A stain on the family name, eh?” he laughed scornfully. “I put it
there, eh? What about you, Señorita Anita? So proud of your good
blood and your family honour, so ready to die because they have been
besmirched, eh? Hah! If there is stain upon blood and name, perhaps you
have placed it there!”
He had gained his purpose now. She gave a cry of rage and rushed upon
him, poniard lifted to strike. He seemed to recoil in sudden panic
as she lunged toward him, then quickly turned to one side and darted
forward. She guessed his trick then, and swung her arm to turn the
blade against her own bosom.
But her arm was caught half-way and twisted so cruelly that the weapon
clattered to the floor, she felt herself clasped to him, felt his
breath on her face, heard his laughter ringing in her ears.
Then his kisses rained upon her face, as she twisted her head in an
effectual effort to escape them. Shame and rage flamed in her cheeks
and throat. She screamed, kicked, tried to free hands and hold him
off, and always he laughed and kissed her more, and finally held her
securely in his arms and looked down at her, while her eyes blazed with
hatred and loathing.
“A pretty tigress!” he cried. “’Twill be a pleasant task to tame you,
my sweet one, but tamed you shall be. How like you to rest in my arms,
eh? Are they not as strong and at the same time as soft as those of
this Captain Fly-by-Night? Struggle, pretty one! The sooner will you
be exhausted. Come with me to the window, queen-to-be, and watch the
culmination of the assault!”
He lifted her from the floor and carried her across the room while she
fought to be free. He held her there at the window, held her hands so
she could not cover her eyes and laughed when he saw that her eyes were
closed.
“You’ll not look?” he said. “Then I’ll relate, _señorita_ mine. Just
now my men are battering at the church doors while others pour volleys
into the windows to drive fear to the hearts of the defenders. Five
minutes more, perhaps, and the fighting will be at an end. I have told
the men to save me one padre. There will be an immediate marriage,
_señorita_----”
“Never will I be wed to you!” she cried. “No padre will say the words!”
“He reads the ceremony or dies, _señorita_. Save his life or not,
as you please; by telling him you are willing you will save it. And
then, if he refuses to speak the words-- Hah! Ceremony or no ceremony,
_señorita_----”
She twisted from his arms and dashed away, but before she could reach
the poniard on the floor he had put a foot upon it, and standing there
he laughed at her again. Shrieks came from the plaza as the hostiles
battered in the doors of the church. The cracking of flames told that
some of the buildings were being destroyed. But the man in the guest
house had attention for nothing except the girl who stood before him
panting in fear and anger.
“Resistance avails you naught,” he said. “Be sensible, my pretty
_señorita_; agree to what I say.”
Terror clutched her now; whimpering, she crouched at the end of the
fireplace.
“Even death is denied me!” she cried. “Is there no escape?”
“None, _señorita_, except by becoming my bride.”
“Never that--renegade, murderer, traitor! If, in all the wide world,
there was but one honest man to aid me now----”
A deep voice interrupted from a corner of the room:
“Command _me_, _señorita_!”