It is one thing--or two things--to make plans mentally or upon paper,
and another thing to carry them out. A general lays down his plan of
campaign, but a dozen hazards of the war may tend to baffle and spoil
courses which seem as they are laid down sure ways leading to success.
The _contrabandista_ chief had made his arrangements in a way that when
he explained them made his hearers believe that nothing could be better.
His reluctant silence respecting the position of the two lads had
impressed the Spanish King with the belief that he considered the young
riflemen's situation to be hopeless, and that he felt that he had done
everything possible.
In fact, he doubted their being alive, and the possibility, even if they
still breathed where they were struck down, of forcing his way through
the strong force of French that occupied the mine, and reaching their
side. Above all, he felt that he would not be justified in risking the
lives of many men for the sake of two.
And now the flickering lights in the distance told that the French had
somehow contrived the means for making their way through the darkness
easier. They had evidently been busy breaking up case and keg, starting
the brands thoroughly in the fire, and keeping them well alight by their
bearers brandishing them to and fro as they advanced, with the full
intent of driving the Spaniards into some cul-de-sac among the ancient
workings of the mine, and there bayoneting them or forcing them to lay
down their arms.
All this was in accordance with the orders given by the French officers,
and the chasseurs advanced perfect in their parts and with a bold front.
But the _contrabandista's_ followers and those of the King were also as
perfect in what they would do, and they knew exactly that they were to
fire and bring down their adversaries as they had an opportunity given
them by their exposure in the light, and after firing they were to lead
the untouched on by an orderly retreat, thus tempting the enemy farther
and farther into the winding intricacies of the old workings.
Those advancing and those in retreat began to carry out their orders
with exactitude; the chasseurs cheered and advanced in about equal
numbers, torch-bearers and musketeers with fixed bayonets, the former
waving their burning brands, and all cheering loudly as in the distance
they caught sight of those in retreat; but it was only to find as the
rattle and echoing roll of carbine and pistol rang out and smoke began
to rise, that they were forming excellent marks for those who fired, and
before they had advanced, almost at a run, fifty yards, the mine-floor
was becoming dotted with those who were wounded and fell.
The distance between the advancing and retreating lines remained about
the same, but the pace began to slacken, the run soon became a walk, and
a very short time afterwards a stand on the part of those who attacked,
and the smoke of the pieces began to grow more dense as the firing
increased.
Orders kept on ringing out as the French officers shouted "Forward!" but
in vain, and the light that, as they ran, had flashed brilliantly, as
they stood began to pale, and the well-drilled men who now saw a dense
black curtain of smoke before them, riven here and there by flashes of
light, began to hesitate, then to fall back, slowly at first, and before
many paces to the rear had been taken they found the light begin to
increase again and more men fell.
That pause had been the turning-point, for from a slow falling back the
pace grew swifter, the waving and tossing lights burned more brightly,
and those who fired sent ragged volley after volley in amongst the now
clearly seen chasseurs; while the Spaniards, forgetful now of the
commands they had received, kept on advancing, in fact, pursuers in
their turn, firing more eagerly as each few steps took them clear of the
cloud of smoke which they left behind.
It was a completely unexpected change of position. The French officers
shouted their commands, and the _contrabandista_ captain gave forth his,
but in both cases it was in vain, for almost before he could realise the
fact a panic had seized upon chasseur and torch-bearer alike, and soon
all were in flight--a strangely weird medley of men whose way was lit up
by the lights that were borne and blazed fiercely on their side, while
their pace was hastened by the firing in their rear.
It was only a matter of some few minutes before the French officers
found that all their attempts to check the rout were in vain.
The hurry of the flight increased till the darkness of the mine-passage
was left behind and all raced onward through the great store-cavern and
out into the narrow gully, now faint in the evening light, and on past
the rough stone-piled defences, where the officers once more tried to
check the headlong flight.
Here their orders began to have some effect, for there were dead and
wounded lying in the way, and some from breathlessness, some from shame,
now slackened their pace and stooped to form litters of their muskets,
on which some poor wretch who was crying for help with extended hands
was placed and carried onward.
And somehow, in the confusion of the flight, as the fallen wounded were
snatched up in the semi-darkness from where they lay, the last burning
brand having been tossed aside as useless by those who could now see
their way, two of the wounded who lay with their arms secured behind
them with straps were lifted and borne onward, for those who were now
obeying their officers' orders were too hurried and confused, hastened
as they were in their movements by the rattle and crash of firearms in
their rear, to scrutinise who the wounded were. It was sufficient for
them that they were not wearers of the rough _contrabandista's_ garb;
and so it was that the dark-green uniform of the bandaged wounded was
enough, and the two young riflemen became prisoners and participators in
the chasseurs' rout.