“Then he is wavering.  Oh-h!” Alaire clasped her hands in thanksgiving, but the Father cautioned her: 

“Don’t be too sanguine.  He is not afraid of consequences.  He appears to have no conscience.  He is without mercy and seems lost to shame.  I have never met a man quite like him.  Do you know what he feels at this moment?  Chagrin.  Yes, mortification raised to the highest pitch, and a sort of stupefaction that you should prefer another man to him.  He can’t understand your lack of taste.”  Father O’Malley smiled faintly.

“Conceited idiot,” Dave growled.

“His humiliation kills him.  When I saw that it was useless to appeal to him on moral grounds, and that threats were unavailing, I took another course.  Something gave me insight into his mind, and the power to talk as I have never talked before.  All in a flash I saw the man’s soul laid bare before me, and—­I think I played upon it with some cunning.  I don’t remember all I said, for I was inspired, but I appealed to his vanity and to his conceit, and as I went along I impressed upon him, over and over, the fact that the world knows we are here and that it trusts him.  He aspires to the Presidency; he believes he is destined to be Mexico’s Dictator; so I painted a picture that surpassed his own imaginings.  He would have been suspicious of mere flattery, so I went far beyond that and inflamed him with such extravagant visions as only a child or an unblushing egotist like him could accept.  I swelled his vanity; I inflated his conceit.  For a moment, at least, I lifted him out of himself and raised him to the heights.”

From beyond the closed door came Longorio’s voice, issuing some command to his men.  A moment passed; then he appeared before the three Americans.  He seemed taller, thinner, more erect and hawklike than ever.  His head was held more proudly and his chest was fuller.  A set, disdainful smile was graven upon his face.

He began by addressing his words directly to Alaire.  “Senora,” he said, “I am a man of deep feeling and I scorn deceit.  Therefore I offer no apology for my recent display of emotion.  If I have seemed to press my advances with undue fervor, it is because, at heart, I am as great a lover as I am a statesman or a soldier.  But there are other things than love.  Nature constituted me a leader, and he who climbs high must climb alone.  I offered Chapultepec as a shrine for your beauty.  I offered to share Mexico with you, and I told you that I would not be content with less than all of you.  Well I meant it.  Otherwise—­I would take you now.”  His voice throbbed with a sudden fierce desire, and his long, lean hands closed convulsively.  “You must realize that I have the courage and the power to defy the world, eh?” He seemed to challenge denial of this statement, but, receiving none, he went on, fixing his brilliant, feverish eyes once more upon Alaire.  “As a man of sentiment I am unique; I am different from any you have ever known.  I would not possess a flower without its fragrance.  You did not believe me when I told you that, but I am going to prove it.  All your life you are going to think of me as heroic.  Perhaps no patriot in history ever made a more splendid sacrifice for his country than I make now.  Some day the world will wonder how I had the strength to put aside love and follow the path of duty.”