Heart of the Sunset Part 54

Alaire's eyes dilated; she held herself away, saying, breathlessly: "Murder! Is that what it was? He--Longorio--told me something quite different."

"Naturally. It was he who hired Jose to do the shooting."

"Oh-h!" Alaire hid her face in her hands. She looked up again quickly, however, and her cheeks were white. "Then he won't spare you, Dave."

She choked for an instant. "We must get away before he comes. There must be some way of escape. Think!"

"I'm pretty tired to think. I'm pretty near played out," he confessed.

"They're watching me, but they'd let you go."

"Now that I'm here I'm going to stay until--"

She interrupted, crying his name loudly, "Dave!"

"Yes. What is it?"

"Wait! Let me think." She closed her eyes; her brows drew together as if in the labor of concentration. When she lifted her lids her eyes were alight, her voice was eager. "I know how. I see it. He won't dare--But you must do what I tell you."

"Of course."

"No questions. Understand?"

When he nodded impatiently she ran to the door and, flinging it open, called down the hall:

"Father! Father O'Malley! Quick!" Then she summoned Dolores.

The priest answered; he hurried from his room and, with a dazed lack of comprehension, acknowledged his swift introduction to Dave. Alaire was keenly alive and vibrant with purpose now. Dolores, too, came running, and while the men were exchanging greetings her mistress murmured something in her ear, then hastened her departure with a quick push.

Turning upon the others, Alaire explained:

"I've sent for some of the women, and they'll be here in a minute.

Father, this man has come for me. He loves me. Will you marry us, before Longorio arrives?"

"Alaire!" Dave exclaimed.

She stilled him with a gesture. "Quick! Will you?"

Father O'Malley was bewildered. "I don't understand," he expostulated.

"Nor I," echoed Dave.

"You don't need to understand. I know what I'm doing. I've thought of a way to save us all."

Through Dave's mind flashed the memory of that thing which had haunted him and made his life a nightmare. An incoherent refusal was upon his lips, but Alaire's face besought him; it was s.h.i.+ning with a strange, new ecstasy, and he could not bring himself to deny her. Of what her plan consisted he had only the dimmest idea, but he a.s.sured himself that it could by no possibility succeed. After all, what did it matter?

he asked himself. They were trapped. This might serve, somehow, to cheat Longorio, and--Alaire would be his wife.

"Very well," he stammered, weakly. "What are you thinking of?"

"I haven't thought it all out yet, but--"

At that moment Dolores returned, bringing with her the three black-haired, black-shawled house servants, bundling them through the door and ranging them along the wall.

Father O'Malley's face was puckered; he said, hesitatingly: "My dear madam, this isn't regular; you are not Catholics. How can I bless you?"

"You can marry us legally, just the same, can't you?" Alaire was breathing rapidly, and some part of her eagerness began to thrill her hearers.

"Oh yes, but--"

"Then marry us. And make haste, please! Please!"

Law nodded. He could not speak, for his mouth was dry. A voice within him shouted a warning, but he would not listen. His heart was beating violently; his temples were pounding; all the blood of his body seemed centered in his head.

Before the eyes of the four wondering women Father O'Malley married them. It seemed to Alaire that he would never reach the end, although, in fact, he stumbled through the ceremony swiftly. Alaire clipped his last words short by crying:

"Tell these people so that they'll understand what it all means. Tell them to remember they have seen a marriage by the Church."

The priest did as he was directed, and his audience signified their understanding. Then Dolores led them out.

x.x.x

THE MAN OF DESTINY

"Now, then, I'll explain," said Alaire, turning to the men. "Longorio declares he won't have me except as his wife, and I think he means it.

He is amazingly egotistical. He has tremendous ambitions. He thinks this war is his great opportunity, and he means to be President--he's sure of it. He loves me, but he loves himself better, I'm sure. Now, don't you see? He'll have to choose one or the other."

Father O'Malley did not appear to appreciate the full force of this reasoning. "My dear," he said, gravely, "he can make you a widow again.

In such times as these men are savages."

"Oh, but that's not all." Alaire turned to her newly made husband.

"They let you in, and they'll let you out again--if you go quickly, before it's known what we've done."

Dave stared at her in bewilderment. "I? I go, and--leave you?" He seemed doubtful of her sanity.

"Yes." When he laughed shortly, Alaire cried: "Dave, you must! Don't you see what I'm driving at? If he can't marry me, if he finds you're gone and he can't lay hands on you, what can he do but let me go? Dave dear, for my sake, for the sake of us both--"

"You're excited," he told her, and drew her to himself gently.

"Please! PLEASE!" she implored.

"You don't know that man," said Father O'Malley, with conviction.

But Alaire insisted, half hysterically now: "I do; that's just it, I DO know him. He is planning the greatest things for himself, his head is in the clouds, and he daren't do the things he used to do. That's why I called in those women as witnesses. He can't put THEM out of the way.

With Dave gone I'll be safe. He can't ignore our marriage. But otherwise--There's no telling what he may do. Why, he'll kill you, Dave, as he killed Ed." She upturned a face eloquent with pleading.

"Won't you do this for me?"