"Then take the consequences!"
Farnsworth lifted his sword, not to thrust, but to strike with its
flat side, and down it flashed with a noisy whack. Father Beret
flung out an arm and deftly turned the blow aside. It was done so
easily that Farnsworth sprang back glaring and surprised.
"You old fool!" he cried, leveling his weapon for a direct lunge.
"You devilish hypocrite!"
It was then that Father Beret turned deadly pale and swiftly
crossed himself. His face looked as if he saw something startling
just beyond his adversary. Possibly this sudden change of
expression caused Farnsworth to hesitate for a mere point of time.
Then there was the swish of a woman's skirts; a light step
pattered on the frozen ground, and Alice sprang between the men,
facing Farnsworth. As she did this something small and yellow,--
the locket at her throat,--fell and rolled under her feet. Nobody
saw it.
In her hand she held an immense horse pistol, which she leveled in
the Captain's face, its flaring, bugle-shaped muzzle gaping not a
yard from his nose. The heavy tube was as steady as if in a vise.
"Drop that sword!"
That was all she said; but her finger was pressing the trigger,
and the flint in the backward slanting hammer was ready to click
against the steel. The leaden slugs were on the point of leaping
forth.
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