Captain Huerta has surrounded the church and grounds with his men."
"Then fasten that door," says Jack. "An attack at one end is all I care to look after."
The bolt is shot into place, and with the click comes the sound of muttered oaths from without, followed by a savage kick at the barricaded portal.
"Ho, there, within!" demands an impatient voice.
At the sound of the hateful tones Juanita shudders and throws her arms about Ashley's neck. "Save me from that man!' she whispers.
For answer Jack takes another reef in his confidence-restoring arm, and draws his revolver.
"Don't move, dear," he murmurs, solicitously. He rather enjoys the tight embrace of those soft arms, to which terror has lent a delightful fervency. "You need not fear Captain Huerta so long as there is light enough to shoot by."
It is a strange tableau that the altar lamp dimly shows. The three figures stand immovable, as if carved in stone. Ashley is calm, resolute, and his eyes are fixed upon the barricaded door. The resignation of despair is depicted in the beautiful face of the Cuban girl; her eyes seek those of her lover, her head upon his breast. They will at least die together. Near by stands the aged priest, his arms folded, his eyes turned heavenward and his lips moving as if in prayer. The tread of soldiery and the rattle of steel sound from the street.
The stillness within the church is broken only by a sharp click as Ashley's revolver is brought to half-cock.
The seconds drag by. Every one of them seems an hour.
Then there is the sound of a rush of feet without, followed by a loud crash, as the church door is hurled from its fastenings and piled upon the debris of the barricade.
The gap thus made throngs with Spanish soldiery, at their head, sword in hand, Captain Raymon Huerta. At sight of the picture within the church he starts back with a cry of surprise and a choice assortment of Castilian imprecations.
