Father Beret heard the bullet hit her, and turned in time to see her stagger backward with a hand convulsively pressed over her heart.

Her face, slightly upturned as she reeled, gave the moon a pallid target for its strengthening rays.

Sweet, beautiful, its rigid features flashed for a second and then half turned away from the light and went down.
Father Beret uttered a short, thin cry and moved as if to go to the fallen girl, but just then he saw Hamilton's sword pass over again into his right hand, and knew that there was no time for anything but death or fight.

The good priest did not shirk what might have made the readiest of soldiers nervous.

Hamilton was known to be a great swordsman and proud of the distinction.