"Francisco Alvarez, thou hast done crime enough already!" exclaimed the
priest.
Alvarez regained his balance, cast one look of hate at the man who had
intervened, and cried:
"Ha! it is you, priest, who have come in my way once more! Then go the way
of martyrdom!"
Turning his pistol he fired the bullet full into the black-robed chest,
and Father Montigny fell dying.
Paul stood still, unable to move. Every muscle in him was paralyzed by
this deed which seemed to him not murder alone, but sacrilege. Of all the
events of that terrible night this was the worst. But a man behind Paul,
retained every faculty, alive and alert. Up rose Shif'less Sol, his honest
face ablaze with wrath. His rifle flew to his shoulder, his finger pressed
the trigger, and the soul of Don Francisco Alvarez, grandee of Spain, sped
to judgment from the darkness and obscurity of the North American
wilderness.
"Come back, Paul! Come back!" cried Shif'less Sol, seizing the youth by
the shoulder.
"But Father Montigny is dying!" cried Paul, falling upon his knees beside
the priest. The tears ran down his cheeks and fell upon the pale face of
the dying man.
Paul and Father Montigny, Protestant and Catholic, young man and old, were
kindred spirits, and each had felt it from the first.
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