All the way along the Coso the sounds of firing in the eastern quarter

of the city came more and more distinctly on the ear. Dense clouds of

smoke rolled towards them, and Jack heard the crackle of flames, still

invisible. A messenger with blackened face came towards Tio Jorge, and

announced that the French had captured three blocks of buildings beyond

the Casa Ximenez, and were slowly but surely gaining ground. The

Spaniard, bellowing out fierce maledictions on the enemy, hastened his

stride, and in a few minutes reached a street leading to the university.

Here the Spaniards had entrenched themselves behind a barricade, where

they endeavoured to find cover from the musket-shots fired from houses

on both sides of the streets. The French, borrowing the tactics of the

besieged, had occupied these houses, and were shooting from windows and

loopholes bored in the walls.

The lean figure of the frenzied Santiago Sass was conspicuous among the

defenders of the barricade. Disdaining all artifice, he stood erect, a

mark for every bullet, yet unhurt, uttering derisive shouts, and

mingling his battle-cry with quotations from the Psalms. Seeing Tio

Jorge approach at the head of his men, the priest hailed him with loud

acclaim.

"Twice," he cried, "twice, Tio Jorge, have we already beaten back the

men of Belial. The hand of the Lord is heavy upon them!"

"And shall be heavier!" cried Tio Jorge. "We must over the barricade,

hombres."

Instantly Santiago Sass mounted the entrenchment, and was first on the

other side, his long cassock flying loose as he led the charge, musket

in hand. Tio Jorge and Jack were but a yard behind him, and with a

great shout the Spaniards swarmed over and dashed furiously at the

French advancing to the attack. Nothing could withstand their rush.

The French gave way, but instead of retreating down the street they

disappeared into the houses on either side, bolted the doors behind

them, and went to swell the numbers of those who already occupied posts

of vantage within. In vain the frenzied Spaniards beat on the doors

with their clubbed muskets; the massive panels were unyielding, and a

rain of bullets fell from above, thinning the Spanish ranks moment by

moment.

"Poles, bring poles!" shouted Tio Jorge.

Instantly men ran off, some of them only to drop on the way. The

survivors returned by and by with poles and beams, with which as

battering-rams they drove at the fast-closed doors. They were shot down

almost to a man; but the places of those that fell were at once taken.

A door here and there was burst in, and the heroic Spaniards sprang into

the gardens and patios, only to be killed or wounded before ever they

came to close quarters with the French.

From the first Tio Jorge had selected as the special object of his

attack a large house on the right of the barricade. It was evidently

held by a considerable force of the enemy. But all assaults upon its

thick door had proved ineffectual. Even when a heavy beam was brought

up as a battering-ram it could not be used with effect, for the door was

at such an angle to the barricade that it could only be struck obliquely

unless the bearers of the beam advanced for several yards into the open,

where so many of their comrades had already been struck down. Tio Jorge

ordered his men to make an attempt to drive in the door from the angle

of the barricade. Before the beam could be thrown across, one of the

men carrying it was shot. The rest persevered, hauled it over, and made

for the door. A sheet of flame burst from the windows above; six of the

men were hit. The weight of the beam being now unequally distributed,

the other men were dragged down, or tripped over the bodies of the

slain.

Jack had accompanied them. Feeling a sharp pain in his left arm, and

seeing that nothing could be done at the moment, he ran back to the

barricade, narrowly escaping being hit by flying bullets. Behind the

barricade he found Tio Jorge with a few others, the only survivors of

the band which had come up with such ardour and enthusiasm. The leader

was furious, railing at fate and at the failure of the men to back up

their comrades, and shouting for more men to come to his assistance.

Meanwhile, as Jack stood by endeavouring to bind up what proved to be a

slight flesh wound, a lady came from the corner of the street, bearing

food and wine. Seeing what Jack was about, she placed her baskets on

the ground, calling upon the men to help themselves, and then with quick

deft hands completed the bandaging which Jack had clumsily begun.

"You look tired," she said. "Take some food, Senor."

Jack was only too glad to eat and drink. It was the first food that had

passed his lips since he left the boat. Tio Jorge, too, ate like a

famished man.

"Gracias, Contessa," he said in a softer voice than was usual with him.

When all had eaten and drunk, the lady picked up her baskets and moved

away without hurry towards another part of the city.

"Who is she, hombre?" asked Jack.

"The noble Contessa de Bureta, Senor; a delicate, frail lady, as you

see, but as fearless as--as I myself."

There was a breathing-space, during which the men rested, awaiting

reinforcements, and rejoiced that the French were contenting themselves

with their work from the houses, and made no further attempt at present

to storm the barricade. Jack took stock of the situation. The house on

the right could not be taken by assault; it was occupied in too great

force by skilled marksmen. To ram the door by a direct blow was

impossible, as experience had proved; the fire from the houses was so

deadly that no bearers could live through it. While Jack was pondering,

the little band had been reinforced by other citizens, and Tio Jorge was

on the point of ordering another attack. But he had uttered only a few

words of vehement encouragement when Jack interposed.

"Give me ten men, and I think in a few minutes we could drive the French

from yonder house without great loss."

Tio Jorge looked doubtingly at Jack's eager face. They were crouching

behind the barricade, and there was a temporary lull in the firing.

"How will you do that?" asked the Spaniard.

"Attack them from above."

"Impossible! impossible! If you got to the roofs you could not get into

the houses, for the trap-doors are all towards the street. You would be

seen from the houses on the opposite side, and shot down at once."

"Still, I think it is possible. I have a plan."

"Well, then, go, Senor, in the name of Our Lady of the Pillar, and I

will remain here and fire on the French to cover your movements."

Accompanied by ten men hastily selected by Tio Jorge, Jack made his way

to the rear, and came to a house which had not yet fallen into the hands

of the French. Gaining admittance, he led his men upstairs to the attic

floor, clambered out by the trap-door, and, before the enemy had caught

sight of him, succeeded in crawling over the sloping roof to the

opposite side. Two or three men had followed him safely. Then the move

was seen, and bullets began to patter on the roof, so that the other men

had to follow Jack at great risk. All but one managed to crawl over and

join him without hurt, and the nine stood with him on the farther side

of the roof, sheltered by the low parapet from any shots that might come

from that direction.

Then he led them quickly on to the roof of the adjoining house, which

was occupied by the French. Immediately over an attic window he

cautiously started to loosen the tiles, the Spaniards eagerly following

his example as they perceived his intentions. After the first two or

three tiles had been gently prised out, the rest came away easily. Half

the men were employed in lifting the tiles, while the others took them

from their hands, and laid them quietly in heaps at the foot of the

parapet. Under the tiles were the joists, and as these were not

connected by matchboard, it was an easier matter than Jack had expected

to break an opening into the room below. It was empty. Such little

noise as had been made on the roof had evidently been drowned by the

continuous firing in the houses and streets. Jack handed his musket to

the man next him, and, catching hold of one of the joists, swung lightly

down into the room. The man handed him his musket, then followed him,

to be followed in turn by all his comrades. In little more than ten

minutes after their arrival on the roof the ten stood together in the

attic.

"Now, hombres," said Jack, "we have to clear them out room by room."

Followed by the Spaniards, he dashed from the attic down the stairs into

the first room on the floor below. At the window were three men, so

intent on firing at the barricade that they were not aware of their

danger until the invaders were upon them. When they turned and saw

their enemies they had no thought of surrender. In this bitter war

surrender to a Spaniard was only another name for death. But before

they could bring their muskets to the shoulder the Spaniards were at

their throats. They fell. Instantly the victors rushed to another

room. In a few minutes all the occupants of that floor were disposed

off.

By this time the rest of the garrison had taken the alarm. Many of the

French had left their posts, and were crowding downstairs in a panic,

believing that a large force of Spaniards had gained a lodgment in the

house. Tio Jorge below inferred from the slackening of the enemy's fire

that the bold attempt had been successful. Without losing an instant he

ordered some of his men to make another onslaught with the beam on the

door, and sent others round to the back of the house, where a narrow

lane was at present clear of the French, to intercept any who should

endeavour to escape there. Panic had now seized the French in the

house. Fearing to be taken in front and rear, most rushed downstairs

towards the back entrance, a few obstinately refusing to stir, and

calling on their comrades to stand firm. But Jack and his men poured in

pursuit, shouting, to keep up the illusion of their being a numerous

body. Below, the door at last fell in with a crash before the strokes

of the ram. Tio Jorge burst in, and found only a small knot of French

between himself and Jack's men. The execution was swift and sure. Of

all the French who had used that house as their fortress only those

escaped who, fleeing out by the back door, cut their way through the

Spaniards sent by Tio Jorge to intercept them.

This brilliant success, won by citizens without the help of the

soldiery, wrought the spirits of the people to a high pitch of

exultation. Santiago Sass, who had escaped in all his wild

peregrinations without a scratch, rejoined Tio Jorge's band, and rolled

out sonorous sentences in jubilant frenzy. But the Spaniards were not

satisfied with the first triumph of the day. There were other blocks of

houses in possession of the French. After a brief respite, during which

reinforcements of soldiers and citizens came up in considerable numbers,

the defenders set to work systematically to dislodge the French from the

positions so hardly won. The housetop device was put in practice

wherever access could be obtained. For hours the struggle continued,

and Jack, who worked as hard as any man, was struck with admiration of

the untiring enthusiasm of the Spaniards. Fighting from barricade to

barricade, and from house to house, they retook position after position,

until, as early dusk fell, the French had been cleared out of all the

houses and forced back to their impregnable position in the Santa Monica

and San Agustin convents.

The din of combat died down. Jack had arrived at the Casa Ximenez, the

scene of his adventure in the morning. Entering the house, he found many

signs of its temporary occupation by the French, but the fighting had

been so intense and so persistent that they had had no time to

perpetrate the wanton mischief and destruction which usually marked

their progress. Jack went through the house to make sure that none of

the French were left, and, entering one of the rooms, he guessed by the

character of its furniture and appointments that it belonged to the

young lady whom he had assisted earlier in the day. The French had been

so much occupied in the lower rooms that they had left this room

untouched. There were a few trinkets on the dressing-table. Jack put

these into his pocket, knowing that the Senorita would be glad to

receive anything of value that could be rescued. Then, descending into

the patio, he found that Tio Jorge had already told off a company of his

men to occupy the house during the night, in preparation for the renewed

attack which was undoubtedly to be expected in the morning.

"Come, Senor," shouted the big fellow, "we will now go to the

captain-general and tell him what we have done for Saragossa this day.

And your part, por Dios! is one that no Saragossan will forget. Come!"

They left the house. The sounds of bombardment and musketry had ceased;

parties of the citizens were moving about collecting the dead and

wounded; women and children were emerging for a breath of air from the

close cellars in which they had sheltered during the day. As Tio Jorge

and Jack passed into the street, they became aware, from the attitude of

a group of soldiers and citizens all looking in one direction, that

something unusual was attracting their attention. Looking up the

street, towards the same end at which he had entered it nearly twelve

hours before, Jack saw, by the light of the torches carried by

search-parties, a small figure advancing--the figure of a boy, with a

Frenchman's kepi many sizes too large for him almost obliterating his

head, a Frenchman's sword dangling from his belt, its point trailing a

yard behind him along the cobbles, and a Frenchman's musket weighing

down his shoulder. The boy was staggering along under his burdens, yet

contrived to maintain an air of jauntiness and assurance that held the

Spaniards spell-bound with surprise and curiosity.

"The imp again!" ejaculated Jack with a smile.

The boy caught sight of him, and, endeavouring to hasten his step,

tripped over his sword and fell headlong, rising a moment after without

musket or kepi, and revealing the swarthy face and unkempt hair of

Pepito.

"Here I am, Senor," he said with his enigmatical smile. "Not lost,

Senor."

"So I see. And what have you been doing? What do you mean by giving me

the slip like that, and making me think the French had got you?"

Pepito looked aggrieved. He took out of his vest the silver watch Jack

had given him at Seville, and held it dangling by its chain.

"Senor's gift; should it get wet? Never. I got into the water; not the

watch. No, I put it on one of the thwarts. We got out of the boat.

Senor went so fast that I forgot the watch. It was Senor's fault. I

went back for it, Senor; I got it; then when I came away--ha! I hear the

march of men. I stop; I hide; all day long from my deep hole I see the

French shoot with their big guns across the river. I wait; I think,

what if Senor is dead? I wish I had come with him, and let the watch

get wet. Then, wonder of wonders! the Busne drive the French back.

They go by my hole; one falls; then all is quiet, and I steal out and

get these things from the dead man, and I come in and have Senor as well

as the watch."

Jack could hardly find fault with the boy for wishing to preserve his

own gift. Explaining to Tio Jorge that Pepito was a servant of his, he

turned to resume his interrupted journey northward, and bade Pepito

follow him closely.

*CHAPTER XXI*

*Night on the Ramparts*

The Cafe Arcos--The Story of the Siege--Perfervour--An Oath--The Casa

Alvarez--The Missing Sentry--Through the Lines--Miguel Enters

Saragossa--Don Casimir is Astonished--Moonshine

On arriving with Tio Jorge at the Aljafferia Castle, Jack found that

Palafox had already received from Santiago Sass news of the excellent

work done in the south-eastern quarter of the city. But Tio Jorge

insisted on telling the story again, and dwelt with enthusiasm on the

part the English Senor had played--his idea to scale the roofs, and his

intrepidity in fighting by the barricades. The big Spaniard loved a

hard fighter, and Jack could have found no surer way to his confidence

and respect.

"Excellent! excellent!" cried Palafox; "you came to us most opportunely,

Senor. And let me tell you, the good opinion of our brave Tio Jorge is

itself the highest praise. Would to God that our success had been as

certain at other points! Unhappily, the French have exploded mines in

the neighbourhood of Santa Engracia, and the most heroic efforts of our

men have failed to dislodge them from the ground they have gained.

Unhappily, also, Don Hernando de Solas, my valiant lieutenant there, was

shot as he led his men for the tenth time to the assault, and I have no

one whom I can conveniently send to take his place."

"Send the English Senor," cried Tio Jorge instantly. "He has shown what

he can do; he is an officer who has served with the great Sir Moore; he

is the very man for the post."

Palafox looked for a moment doubtfully at Jack's youthful face.

"You are young yourself, Don Jose," added Tio Jorge, divining his

general's reluctance. "Por Dios! was there ever before a

captain-general so young!"

"It is an arduous post," said Palafox. "Just now it has to bear the

brunt of the French attack, I fear. But you have shown valour and

resource, Senor Lumsden; will you undertake the command of Don

Hernando's district?"

"I will do my best, Senor, if you entrust it to me."

He spoke quietly, but his pulse leapt at the thought of the work opening

before him. Accepting the general's offer with alacrity, he set off in

a few minutes with Tio Jorge, who had offered to introduce him to his

men, and procure for him a Spanish uniform to replace his soiled

garments. As they were hastening along the Coso, crowded with people

now that the day's fighting had ceased, Tio Jorge stopped at the door of

a big cafe.

"You must be famished, Senor," he said. "You have had nothing but a

bite and a sup all day. Here is the cafe of my friend Jorge Arcos; let

us enter. When we have eaten and drunk it will be time to seek the

ramparts."

Jack was nothing loth. In a few minutes he was seated amid a crowd of

ardent Saragossans, whose blackened features and soiled garments bespoke

the part they had played in the defence of their city. Jorge Arcos

himself, a robust and lusty Spaniard, attended to Jack's wants when he

had learnt from Tio Jorge that the young Senor was an English officer

who had done good work that day, and been entrusted by Palafox with the

Santa Engracia command. The big host, as well as the miscellaneous

company in the room, looked somewhat askance at the weird figure of

Pepito, who had closely followed his master. His garb showed him to be

one of the despised and outcast gitanos; but on Jack's explaining that

the boy had been of service to him, Arcos shrugged, and brought him some

food and diluted wine, which the hungry little fellow despatched with

gusto.

As he ate, Jack fell into conversation with his host, and showed a

curiosity to learn something of the earlier history of the siege. The

mere suggestion was enough to set the man's tongue wagging. He

evidently loved the sound of his own voice, and he owed indeed much of

his popularity with the citizens to his rough-and-ready eloquence.

"A remarkable siege, you say, Senor?" he said. "It is, in truth; never

was such a siege since the world began! And 'tis not the first time the

French pack of wolves has come to eat us. Last year, by the favour of

Our Lady of the Pillar, we escaped their greedy jaws; and now also again

they shall rue the day they came a-hunting. For six weeks we have

withstood them; 'tis six weeks since they began to throw their bombs and

balls into our midst. Aha! and on the second day after, they sent a man

to summon us to surrender. Surrender! Little they knew Don Jose

Palafox, little they knew the hearts of our people--of Tio Jorge here,

and Tio Marin, of the padres Don Basilio and Santiago Sass and

Consolacion; aye, and of our noble ladies and of our poor folks such as

I myself. Surrender! Why, our people well-nigh tore the French

messenger in pieces! We knew they were coming to invest us; did they

think we should open our gates or that our walls would fall flat as the

walls of Jericho? Por Dios!"

He uttered a scornful guffaw, and shouts of approval broke from the

crowd.

"No, no. We had warning; the people from the countryside came flocking

in--workers in olive groves and vineyards, potters from the villages,

swineherds and muleteers--and Don Jose gave them each his task, and with

our own people they toiled night and day to make our city strong. Men

and women and children, sixty thousand of us, we wrought upon the

ramparts. Some carried earth in baskets, others plied the spade, others

went into the outskirts with picks and axes, and levelled houses and

orchards until, for half a mile round, the country was as bare as my

table here, a level waste on which no enemy could find a wall or tree to

shelter him. Thus we strengthened our defences, building bastions and

raising mounds, till the whole city was encircled with strong ramparts

from the Ebro to the Huerba.

"And all this time our people were gathering food--great stores of corn

and maize, oil and fish; and some were making powder and bullets, and

others were building barriers across the streets with timber and

sand-bags, so that if the accursed French did break through our walls we

could still fight from street to street, as you have seen to-day,

Senor."

"Yes, but they are gaining ground; how can we hold out longer, Jorge

Arcos?" said a voice in the crowd.

Arcos glared around and smote upon the table.

"Where is that coward?" he cried passionately. "Where is he? For whom

does the gibbet stand in the Coso? Is it not there for cowards, and

weaklings, and traitors, and all who talk of surrender? Hold out

longer! We have only begun. The French have got in here and

there--well, what of that? Every house captured costs them a day; and

every day brings our triumph nearer. Have we not ample food? Is there a

wretch in Saragossa who complains of hunger? Set him before me; let me

see his face; he shall prove his words here in my presence, or--" He

made a significant gesture, and continued: "No, we are not hungry; we

can hold out for months; and meanwhile friends are hastening to our

succour. North and south, east and west, armies are collecting. The

French shall be hemmed round like pigs for the butcher; the February

rains shall descend and flood their trenches; and by the grace of Our

Lady of the Pillar we shall be able once again to foil the plans of the

Corsican dog, and the men of Aragon will set such an example to the men

of Andalusia and Castile, of Leon and Estremadura, of Catalonia and

Navarre, that no Frenchman shall be left alive between the mountains and

the sea."

Loud vivas rang through the room as Arcos brought his oration to a

close. It was no surprise to Jack to hear such a speech from the lips

of an ordinary cafe-keeper--every Spaniard is an orator,--but he by no

means shared the speaker's assurance. The influx of so many people from

the country must have swelled the population far beyond its normal

limit. Overcrowding involved disease; the encroachments of the French

must constantly narrow the habitable region; in the exposed parts only

the vaults and cellars would be safe from bombardment; and while the

operations of war claimed their full tale of victims, Jack feared that

pestilence would carry off still more. But he said not a word of his

apprehensions, and soon afterwards, bidding his host and the company a

cordial adieu, he left with Tio Jorge and Pepito.

They passed the Franciscan convent beyond the Coso, cut through narrow

tortuous side streets, each barricaded and guarded, passed the Capuchin

nunnery, and came at length to the district of Santa Engracia, in which

a few days before the French had gained a lodgment by sapping and mining

and direct assault. As they passed along a street from which the French

had been driven at the point of the bayonet, but which was now a mere

heap of charred and smoking ruins, Jack saw a young lady standing before

the smouldering embers of one of the houses. By her side was a little

boy. The lady, who could not have been more than twenty-five years of

age, was pale and haggard, and gazed upon the ruins of her home like a

very statue of sorrow. As Tio Jorge and Jack came up to her, they heard

her talking to the boy in low fierce tones.

"It is the Dona Mercedes Ortega," said Tio Jorge half to himself. "What

is the matter, Senora?" he asked.

She turned and threw back her mantilla. Jack had never seen a face in

which utter woe and desolation was so piteously imprinted. Her eyelids

were swollen with weeping; her eyes blazed out of dark sunken rims; her

lips were quivering.

"That was my home," she said in an agony of grief that Jack never

forgot. "My husband lies there, and my father. My brothers died on the

ramparts; my little girl died of fever in my arms. Only Juanino is

left, only Juanino, he and I; we are alone--alone--alone!"

Jack turned away; there was a mist before his eyes. Then suddenly the

woman's tone changed from grief to rage. Her next words seemed to bite

into Jack's soul.

"Stay, Senor!" she cried; "stay, Tio Jorge! I call you to witness what

I teach my Juanino. Yes, I teach him; he will never forget; it is for a

mother to teach her son his duty. He shall be a scourge to all the

accursed race. He shall kill, kill, kill, knowing no rest till he join

his father--his father whom the French have killed!"

The boy looked up in her face with eyes of terror.

"Put your hands together," she continued, "and swear that henceforth, in

war or peace, at home or abroad, in the street or in the field, you will

kill every Frenchman you may meet, kill without mercy or ruth, and thus

avenge me and all your house. Swear, Juanino!"

Jack shuddered as he heard the little fellow, whose age was perhaps

seven years, repeat the terrible oath his frantic mother demanded of

him. At that moment the horrors of war were brought home to Jack's mind

more forcibly than ever before; nothing in the terrible retreat to

Corunna had been so terrible as the picture of the young widow's

desolate grief and passionate longing for vengeance.

He passed on, with Tio Jorge and Pepito, into a small plaza out of which

several narrow streets radiated. The place was familiar to him, and a

few steps farther on he recognized the Casa Alvarez, and remembered,

what he had forgotten till now, that the house of his old friend stood

almost within a stone's-throw of the Santa Engracia convent.

"This was the head-quarters of Don Hernando," said Tio Jorge. "You had

better make it yours also, Senor."

"Yes. But let us go on to the ramparts now. I want to see the

position, and the men. Do you know, by the by, what has become of the

family of Don Fernan Alvarez? The old Senor himself is dead."

"I cannot tell you, Senor. He was a good man, was Don Fernan. He had

one daughter; was it not so? But they were far above a poor man like

me, and I know nothing about the Senorita."

Jack felt a curious pleasure in knowing that the Casa Alvarez was in his

own district, and would actually be his head-quarters. Hastening down

the street towards the walls, he enquired whether the ramparts were

manned in force at night in anticipation of attack during the hours of

darkness. Tio Jorge informed him that the French had not risked a night

attack in force since the beginning of the siege. They continued their

mining operations, but they had found it so difficult to make headway

above-ground, even in the daylight, that actual assaults and fighting

seldom or never occurred between dark and dawn. The ramparts were

therefore guarded by a sufficient number of sentries, but not occupied

in force, the defenders being only too glad to recruit their overtaxed

energies with sleep. When Jack arrived at the wall he found sentries

posted at intervals of a few yards. He learnt from Tio Jorge that his

command extended from the Santa Engracia convent some fifty yards to the

north, where it adjoined the Porta Quemada district under the charge of

a personal friend of Palafox, Don Casimir Ulloa. It happened that Don

Casimir was making a round of his sentries before leaving for the night,

and to him Jack was introduced by Tio Jorge at the point where their

commands met. Tio Jorge then took his leave, promising to call at the

Casa Alvarez on the way back, and see that a room was arranged for the

Senor's occupation.

"Is all quiet to-night, Senor?" asked Jack, after the first compliments

had passed.

"Yes; nothing has happened since the French blew up a house by the Santa

Engracia convent just before dark. But one thing puzzles me, Senor. Do

you know this part of the city?"

"I was here once before, but that was six years ago, and I was too much

a child then to remember it well now."

"But you will know that beyond the wall here, which has been greatly

strengthened and thickened, the ground slopes steeply down to the River

Huerba. You can see it; the water shines in the moonlight. On the

other side of the ravine, at the top, are the French trenches."

"I see. What puzzles you, Senor?"

"I am coming to it. Every night for ten days past I have been at this

spot at this hour, and every night I have either seen or heard a French

sentry exactly opposite. To-night, however, there is a difference. At

dusk we saw the Frenchman tramping up and down behind the trench, just

out of range of your good English muskets, Senor; we heard the guard

changed; but a few minutes ago, when I looked, I found that the sentry

had disappeared. Perhaps my eyes are at fault. Will you look, Senor?"

Jack looked across the ravine. A pale half-moon was shining, as yet

somewhat low in the sky, and the ravine and river-bed were gloomed by

black shadows. The line of the entrenchments showed rugged against the

background, in which watch-fires here and there marked the night bivouac

of the French. From the far distance came faint and fitful noises; the

gurgling wash of the river against its embankments made the only sound

in the vicinity. Jack ran his eyes along the edge of the entrenchment

for a hundred yards in each direction. Certainly no sentinel was in

sight.

"Perhaps he is resting," he remarked. "There is no need for him to

tramp up and down in sight all the time."

"True, Senor, but why to-night? Why on this night should we miss what

we have seen without exception for many nights past?"

"It is certainly strange. I shouldn't think it implied any particular

danger of an attack; should you?"

At this moment Pepito touched him on the arm.

"Something crawling, Senor!" he said.

He pointed across the river towards a spot in deep shadow half-way down

the opposite slope. Jack looked in that direction, but failed to

perceive any moving object.

"You are mistaken, Pepito," he said.

The gipsy was stretched now at full length on the wall, peering, with

his hands arching his eyes, into the darkness.

"A man crawling!" he whispered. "See!"

Jack and Don Casimir followed the boy's example, and, keeping the

moonlight from their eyes, at length discerned a dark figure crawling

slowly down the steep. A moment later, all three caught sight of a

second figure following at a short interval the first.

"They are coming within range," whispered Don Casimir. "I will order my

men to shoot."

"Stay!" said Jack quickly. "Let us wait. Pass the word along the

sentries not to shoot if they see two men approaching. Two men will not

overpower us and capture the city, Senor; there is something puzzling,

as you say, in all this. We must find out what it means."

The men had now reached the foot of the opposite slope. On the ramparts

several pairs of eyes were watching them eagerly. At the brink of the

river they halted for a moment, then stepped into the water. Jack

looked questioningly at Don Casimir.

"Yes," said the latter, "the Huerba is fordable here."

Two figures were wading through the water. They gained the nearer bank;

they climbed up. When on dry land again they no longer crawled, but

clambered as rapidly as might be up the steep ascent to the wall. Jack

felt growing interest and excitement as they came up foot by foot, with

no attempt at concealment. They were within four yards of the wall.

"Quien vive?" asked Don Casimir in clear low tones.

"Silencio!" said the first of the two figures, holding up a warning

hand. "I am a friend; help me up."

The wall was some fourteen feet in height, and there was no apparent

means of assisting the man below.

"If two of your men let down their muskets, I can catch hold of them,"

said the man in a whisper.

The hint was acted on. Don Casimir beckoned up two of his men, who laid

themselves flat on the wall, lowering their muskets until the man below

was able to grasp a barrel in each hand. Then they gradually drew up

the weapons hand over hand, and the man with them. Don Casimir, with

drawn sword, kept a sharp look-out to assure himself that the new-comers

were alone, and that this strange incident was not part of a French plot

to rush the wall.

In half a minute the spokesman was standing beside the little group.

"Do I see Don Casimir?" he said, looking keenly at the Spaniard, who had

given a start of recognition as his features came into view above the

parapet.

"Yes, Senor," replied Don Casimir with a bow. "This is a strange

meeting."

"Strange indeed! Ah, what an hour it has been! I thought we should

never have got through. Turn where we would, the French seemed to have

sentries everywhere."

"Except yonder, Don Miguel," said Jack quietly, coming a little more

distinctly into view.

Miguel made a quick turn at the sound of his voice, and with a scarcely

perceptible pause said:

"Ah! my dear young friend, who would have thought of seeing you here?

What a pleasant meeting! Yes, as you say, except yonder. But, as it

happens, the sentry yonder is now keeping guard in another world." He

tapped the hilt of his sword significantly. "We were not in the mood to

brook delay, and he was--well, one Frenchman the less."

"All the same, they have replaced him pretty soon," remarked Jack dryly,

"unless that is his ghost."

He pointed, as he spoke, to the form of a sentry leaning on his musket

at the spot that had been described to him by Don Casimir as the

customary post.

"It is strange," replied Miguel musingly; "one might have expected a

commotion--when they found the body. But, yes--no doubt they hush these

things up. It would reflect on their discipline."

Don Casimir, who had been looking from one to the other in some

astonishment, here interposed.

"But--do I understand, Don Miguel, that you have come through the French

lines?"

"Why, certainly, my friend; how else should I be here? We are from

Seville, from the Supreme Junta, with despatches. We have ridden

post-haste four hundred and fifty miles in six days, as my friend here

must know, and by a miracle have succeeded in eluding the wolves yonder.

But that reminds me--I should lose no time in delivering my despatches

to the captain-general. I suppose he is still in the Aljafferia? How

goes it in Saragossa? I fear you have been hard pressed."

"Yes, indeed," replied Don Casimir. "But the pack of wolves outside is

being thinned. Every yard costs a man."

"Ah! I shall have much to hear," said Miguel, with a meaning look at

Jack; "and on my side I have not a little to tell. Adios, Senores!"

With a low bow he turned away, followed by his companion, whom Jack had

at once recognized, when he gained the summit of the wall, as the

one-eyed servitor of evil memory. There was no look of recognition in

the man's fixed stare as he left the group a few paces behind his

master. Jack, however, was amused to note the attitude of Pepito, who

stood fingering his little knife with an air of tragedy worthy of Mr.

Kean himself.

"It was a daring feat," said Don Casimir, looking into the moonlit

distance as if gauging the difficulties that must have beset any attempt

to approach Saragossa from that side. "Indeed, except yourself, I

believe no one has got in for at least three weeks past. But we have

always known Don Miguel as a match for any Frenchman. He gave many

proofs of astuteness during the first siege. He is not easy to beat

when readiness and resourcefulness are needed. It is strange," he added

after an interval, during which his eye rested on the figure of the

French sentry, "very strange. I could have sworn it is the same

man--the man I missed an hour ago. But, of course, it cannot be."

"The moonlight may be deceptive," suggested Jack; but as he left the

spot to return to his quarters he looked thoughtful.

*CHAPTER XXII*

*Juanita*

The Brave Antonio--A Survey--Towards the Coso--A Deed of Daring--The

Senorita Receives--Old Friends--Mig Prig--Don Fernan--An Ambush--Jose

Pinzon--The Call of Duty

Next morning, as soon as it was light, Jack started for a round of his

district. The Casa Alvarez was a large square house, standing in the

middle of a small plaza of its own. Exactly opposite its front, which

faced towards Santa Engracia, there were two smaller houses, known as

the Casas Vega and Tobar, the backs of which were separated from each

other by a narrow lane leading towards the convent. Each of these

houses was the last of a block of contiguous buildings, and they were,

in fact, the only houses in their blocks which were still intact, the

rest being more or less in ruins. The front of the Casa Tobar looked

into a street running parallel with the lane and entering the Plaza

Alvarez on the side nearest the ramparts. On the other side of the

street ran a row of houses parallel to the Casa Tobar block. These also

were mainly in ruins. The house exactly opposite the Casa Tobar was

known as the Casa Vallejo, and this, while at present unharmed, was the

immediate object of the French attack. Thus in the vicinity of the Casa

Alvarez there were three parallel blocks of buildings along which the

French were working simultaneously. Two of the blocks were terminated

by the Plaza Alvarez, and the last house in each was in a line with the

Casa Vallejo. The Casa Vallejo terrace was separated by a lane from the

ramparts, for the defence of which Jack was not responsible.

[Illustration: Plan of the Plaza Alvarez District]

The features of the locality were pointed out to him by a young Spanish

lawyer, Don Cristobal Somiedo, who had taken a voluntary part in the

struggle, and had acted as lieutenant to Jack's predecessor, Don

Hernando de Solas. It was he, toe, who introduced Jack to his little

corps. It consisted of about 380 men, of whom no more than 250 could be

regarded as really fit for duty, and even of these, as they paraded

before him, many looked as though they should be in hospital wards. The

majority of them were regulars, but nearly 100 were guerrilleros driven

into the city, before the actual investment began, by the advance of the

French. Among the rest were once well-to-do shopkeepers, whose

businesses had been ruined, and whose houses and shops had in many cases

been destroyed by the French bombs or mines. They were fighting side by

side with artisans from the lower quarters of the city, and peasants

from the country-side, all distinctions of class and occupation being

forgotten in the common peril. Regulars and irregulars all bore marks

of the toils and dangers of their strenuous life--some in their tattered

garments, others in ghastly wounds, others in their haggard cheeks and

fever-lit eyes. But only one spirit animated them all: the

determination to spend their last energies in the defence of the city.

Passing down their ranks, Jack was struck by one face that seemed

familiar to him, and he stopped before the man, endeavouring to recall

the circumstances in which he had seen him.

"Buenos dias, Senor," said the man, a stout thick-set fellow wearing a

heavy skin cloak. He smiled somewhat sheepishly as he saluted his new

commandant.

The tone of voice brought back to Jack's memory the roadside encounter

with a man on the way to Medina, and the subsequent meeting in the inn.

"The brave Antonio, is it not?" he said with a smile.

"Si, Senor," replied the man.

"I am glad to see you engaged in such excellent work."

Passing on, Jack was introduced by Don Cristobal to Pablo Quintanar, the

chief of the guerrilleros, and learnt that the man, though subordinate

to the commander of the district, expected a certain amount of

consideration as head of an independent party of peasant-warriors. Jack

was not taken with the man's appearance. He had a sinister look and

shifty eyes, and replied in curt ungenial tones to the few words

addressed to him.

"Antonio, the man you spoke to just now," added Don Cristobal, "is

second in command of the guerrilleros, and a much better man, in my

opinion, than the chief. You appear to know him, Senor?"

"I met him once," was Jack's brief reply.

Having made acquaintance with his corps, and finding that the French had

not yet commenced their morning movements, Jack proceeded to complete

his survey of the position. Beyond the River Huerba he could now

clearly see the long rows of French trenches, the parallels cut here and

there by a series of zigzags constructed with incredible labour to

secure the besiegers' approach to the walls. The French had actually

made good their position on the near side of the river, immediately

beneath the wall, towards Santa Engracia, but they had hitherto forborne

to press their advantage, the height of the bank rendering it difficult

for them to storm the ramparts in that quarter, and at the same time

preventing them from blowing them up by mines.

It was clear that no French attack was to be expected from the Porta

Quemada side of his district, for in order to reach him the enemy would

have to push their way through some hundreds of yards of streets held by

Don Casimir, who had proved himself a very capable leader. But on the

Santa Engracia side he was exposed to what was plainly the enemy's

principal attack. Their aim was obviously to reach the Coso, and to

connect the wedge they were driving into the city in this quarter with

the wedge already inserted at San Agustin.

They had made considerable progress since the capture of the Santa

Engracia convent four days before. They treated each block of houses as

a miniature fortress. There was no attempt to carry it by storm until

the defences had been attacked by sap and mine. As soon as a house was

blown up they rushed in and occupied the ruins, where they entrenched

themselves with bales of wool, gabions, and sacks of earth, and began to

drive mines under the next block.

Anxious to see for himself something of their method, Jack entered a

house next to one recently blown up, and, ascending to the top story,

peeped through a loop-hole pierced in the party wall. The roof of the

next house had fallen in. Some charred beams were still smouldering.

Here and there a tongue of flame licked the debris, and as the breeze

blew in fitful gusts, dense clouds of smoke rose into the air.

"They don't do their work very thoroughly," said Jack to Don Cristobal.

"The shell of the house is still standing. A good explosion would have

shattered the whole place."

"They have changed their ways, Senor," replied the lieutenant. "At

first they used big charges and completely destroyed the houses; but

they found that when the ruins cooled, and they occupied the space, they

had no shelter from our fire. Now they use smaller charges and throw

down only the wall next to them, leaving the other walls and the roof

uninjured. The roof next door was not brought down by the explosion,

but by our own men setting fire to the shell."

"A counter-stroke, eh? Obviously two can play at their game. Well, it

will be at least a couple of days, I should think, before the ruins are

cool enough for the French to occupy the ground. Probably they are busy

running a mine towards us."

A loud explosion at this moment shocked the air. Looking out of the

window, across the barricaded streets, Jack saw a column of smoke

pouring from a house to his left, at the corner of another block of

buildings not in his quarter.

"One house nearer the Coso," he said. "Well, Don Cristobal, we must do

what we can to check their progress in our direction. Our men are no

doubt counter-mining."

"Not very successfully, I am afraid. We have no trained sappers and

miners; only a scratch battalion formed from the workmen employed on the

great canal of Aragon, a mile to the south, and they haven't been

accustomed to work underground."

"We must give them some practice, then," said Jack as they left the

house together.

Returning to the Casa Alvarez, which he had fixed on as his permanent

head-quarters, Jack learnt that there had as yet been no sign of a

French attack upon his district. The houses and barricades were well

manned by the Spaniards. It was clear that their vigorous opposition

had deterred the French from attempting an assault in force until they

had made further progress with their mines. In pursuance of an idea

that had occurred to him, Jack sent for the foreman of the canal

labourers and took him at once into a small cabinet, where they remained

closeted for more than two hours. At the end of that time the workman,

carrying a sheet of paper, left the house, collected a gang of the

labourers, and brought them, armed with various implements, into the

Casa Alvarez, where he descended with them into the cellars.

Meanwhile Jack, leaving Don Cristobal in command, made his way to the

Aljafferia Castle to see Palafox. His interview with the general was

brief. He reported that he had taken over command of his district,

rapidly surveyed it, and inspected his men. He mentioned what he had

learnt of the recent operations of the French, and was informed by

Palafox that he might regard himself as having a free hand in preparing

measures of defence, though he would be expected to make a daily report

to head-quarters. The business of the interview being concluded,

Palafox said:

"You will be interested to hear that last night Don Miguel Priego--he is

connected, I believe, with your father's house--got through the French

lines by a stroke of matchless daring, bringing me despatches from the

Supreme Junta. Their view of my country's prospects is brighter than

Mr. Frere's; and Don Miguel tells me that, from information he gained

during his wonderful journey across Spain, we may expect the siege to be

raised within a week."

"I am glad to hear it, Senor Capitan," said Jack gravely. Then,

abruptly changing the subject, he continued: "Can you tell me where I

should be likely to find Padre Consolacion?"

"At the Franciscan convent, no doubt; you will pass it on the way back

to your district. The padre is doing grand work."

Jack thanked the general and took his leave. He was anxious to find

Padre Consolacion and discover from him the whereabouts of Juanita

Alvarez. As he walked along the Coso towards the Franciscan convent he

came to the house where he had left the young Senorita whose

acquaintance he had made on his first entrance to the town, and

remembering the trinkets of hers he had in his pocket, he decided to

call and leave them with her, and at the same time enquire after her

welfare and the health of the fragile old lady whom they had rescued.

Rapping at the door, he was in a minute confronted by a pleasant-looking

old duenna, who, on learning the object of his call, at once asked him

in.

"The Senorita said that if you called you were to be shown up, Senor.

Follow me."

There was nothing unusual in this; in Spain a message is always

delivered in person, be the messenger high or low. Jack followed the

old woman into a vast salon, darkened by the closing of the shutters

except at a small window at the back.

"The Senora is ill; the Senorita receives," said his guide, and went

out, closing the door.

In a chair sat the old lady, looking vacantly around the room, mumbling

her lips and fingering the ends of her lace mantilla. She paid no

attention to the visitor, but the younger lady rose and came forward a

few steps, then stood in an attitude of mingled enquiry and expectancy.

"You will pardon me, Senorita; I could not help calling to enquire--I am

not sure of your name--"

"I don't think we mentioned it, Senor. And that reminds me of my own

neglect--my unpardonable neglect. I should certainly have asked the name

of our--deliverer."

At this word Jack looked uncomfortable. His fluency in Spanish seemed

for the moment to have utterly deserted him.

"Oh," he exclaimed at a rush, "my name is Lumsden--Jack Lumsden."

"Ah! an English name, is it not? Then you are not a Spaniard. And yet

you speak--just like one of ourselves."

Jack's reply was half-apologetic.

"Oh, well, I had a good deal of practice as a child. I used to live in

Spain."

"And now?"

"Now--I'm in the army--the English army--lieutenant in the 95th

regiment."

"Lieutenant?--May I congratulate you?"

"Congratulate me!" repeated Jack in some surprise.

"Yes; is it not permitted? Among us it is quite the custom to

congratulate a friend on his promotion."

"Certainly, Senorita--" began Jack, wondering still more; but before he

could collect himself the girl continued, with a twinkle of amusement in

her eyes:

"Surely it is only the other day that you were an ensign. Can you have

forgotten that too? You were not always so forgetful. I fear--"

"True, Senorita, I was a kind of ensign, though in the 95th we've no

colours to carry. But--"

"I fear," she continued, after a scarcely perceptible pause, "--yes,

that you are--well, not quite so nice as you used to be."

Her eyes were dancing with merriment, and in a flash Jack recalled the

time, six years ago, when a little maid with just such eyes had been his

occasional playmate in Barcelona. True, there was little other

resemblance; she had been an elf-like girl, with tangled hair, thin

cheeks, and the shy manner of a child unused to the society of children.

Before him now stood a tall girl with a dignity and self-possession

beyond her years, her rounded cheeks and bright eyes showing that the

trials of the siege had as yet touched her but lightly.

"Juanita!" exclaimed Jack, almost below his breath. "Well, of all the

extraordinary--of all the stupid--"

Juanita laughed outright--the old rippling laugh that Jack now

remembered well.

"I hope, Senor Lumsden, you are not referring to me," she said.

"You must think me an ass," he replied, half-amused, half-nettled.

"But," he added, seeing a loophole, "it isn't my fault. It's you who

have changed, not I. And I came to Saragossa on purpose to see you. To

think it was you all the time!"

"Indeed we thank you. I don't know what we should have done without

you," said Juanita more seriously. "We could never have got away. Don't

think me ungrateful; I knew you at once; but it was all so terrible, and

I saw you didn't know me. And then, when all was over, I ought to have

explained, but I--well--"

"Didn't," said Jack with a smile. "I see you haven't changed so much

after all. The same Juanita, mischievous as ever."

"I'm afraid not, Jack. I'm years older than I was a few months ago. We

were happy then; now everything is different."

The tears stood in her eyes.

"Yes," said Jack, "I had heard; that is why I came to see you."

They were silent; then Juanita, with a brave effort to smile, said:

"Now, Jack, tell me all about yourself."

In a few words Jack gave an account of what had happened to him since

his arrival in Spain, Juanita listening with an interest and excitement

that every now and then found expression in eager questions.

"But now," said Jack in conclusion, "it's your turn. I have many things

to ask. Do you know, I met an old friend not long ago, who told me

something about you."

"Oh! Who was that, and what was it?"

"Well, I called him an old friend--for your sake. It was Miguel

Priego."

"Him!" Her shrug was expressive. "Why do you say for my sake?"

"Well, considering what he told me--"

"What did he say? Don't be mysterious."

"He said--that you were about to be married."

"Married! Good gracious! To whom?"

"To him!"

"To Mig Prig?"

Her scornful laugh was wholly convincing, and Jack could not help

joining heartily in her merriment when he heard once again his boyish

nickname for their common tyrant.

"That's all right, then," he said.

"But surely you didn't believe it?" added Juanita, with a touch of

indignation.

"Well, time works strange changes, you know."

"Possibly," said Juanita, appreciating the retort; "but not so strange

as that. Marry _him_!"

Her gesture was imperial in its disdain.

"Another of Miguel's lies!" said Jack. "But," he added thoughtfully,

"there was usually a motive behind them. What can it be this time? He

gave me so many details; said it had all been arranged between your

father and Don Esteban; he was to have the business; and all the rest of

it."

"Ridiculous! My father would have been the very last to think of such a

thing. He distrusted him--with good cause."

And then she proceeded to give Jack a narrative from which, as the tale

was unfolded, he gained more than an inkling of Don Miguel's designs.

More than two years before, when Napoleon formed his alliance with

Spain, Don Fernan Alvarez, a shrewd observer of events, had suspected

that the ostensible object of despoiling Portugal was only a ruse by

which the emperor intended to make himself master of the whole

peninsula. Foreseeing a period of confusion and anarchy, the old

merchant resolved to take time by the forelock and set his house in

order. He went to Barcelona, the headquarters of the business, and

proceeded to realize his stock as far as possible, with the intention of

converting it into bullion or valuables which could be laid aside as a

provision for his own declining years and his daughter's future. On

going into the accounts of the firm he found that Don Esteban Priego's

books showed large deficiencies, threatening to more than cover his

interest, not a great one, in the business. When the matter was brought

to light, Don Esteban was much distressed. He had been for some time in

failing health, and had left the management of his branch almost

entirely in the hands of his son Miguel, who, however, when brought to

book by his father's partner, indignantly protested against the implied

charge of dishonesty, and declared that if there was anything wrong he

at any rate was absolutely clean-handed. There was no time to

investigate the matter fully. After a stormy interview Don Fernan left

the office in charge of a trusted clerk, and, taking with him the large

sum of money he had realized, together with the unsatisfactory books,

set out for Saragossa a few days before Barcelona was seized by the

French.

Owing to the disturbed state of the country he thought it wise to travel

with an escort of some score of well-armed men, half of them his own

retainers, half alguazils. From some undefined motive of prudence he

kept his departure secret until the last moment. But, despite this

precaution, the party was ambushed at dusk, at a lonely spot on the

hills within two marches of Saragossa, by a horde of brigands. The

escort made a stout resistance, but being taken entirely at a

disadvantage by superior numbers they were overpowered. Don Fernan

himself was severely wounded in the first moment of attack; several of

his men were killed or disabled; and the rest, seeing their case

hopeless, made their escape.

The brigands were about to kill the wounded, on the principle that dead

men tell no tales, when a body of French horsemen rode down the hill at

a gallop. One startled glance, and the bandits hurriedly decamped. At

that time the French were posing as disinterested friends of Spain. The

cavaliers showed every attention to the wounded men, assisted Don Fernan

into Saragossa, and with a self-restraint that was remarkable in the

light of the subsequent behaviour of their countrymen, handed over to

him his books and boxes untouched. This was a double relief to the

merchant, for, if what he learnt on the way from his old body-servant

Jose was true, he had not only saved the treasure for his daughter, but

preserved it from the hands of the one man whom he had recently had so

much reason to mistrust. Jose had been stunned during the fight by a

blow from a clubbed musket. On recovering consciousness he was amazed

to recognize, among the assailants, no other than Don Miguel Priego. He

could not be sure. At that moment the French appeared and the brigands

fled. But he felt that he could hardly have been mistaken.

"That was where Miguel got his scar," said Jack to himself at this point

of the story.

A few months after Don Fernan's return to Saragossa the French began the

first siege of the city. He contributed largely to the funds raised for

the defence, and though scarcely able to walk played a not

inconsiderable part in the actual work behind the walls. But such

unwonted exertions tried his already enfeebled health. He had never

thoroughly recovered from his wound. The troubles of the siege were too

great a strain for a man of his age. And though his strength revived a

little when the French were so signally beaten, he was again ailing when

the news of the fatal day of Tudela broke his last hold on life. The

Saragossans gave him honoured burial.

His last days were troubled by anxiety about his daughter and only

child. He knew that if his property became subject to the lingering

processes of the Spanish courts, very little of it would be left for

Juanita. He had no near relatives or friends on whose integrity and

business capacity he could thoroughly rely. Mr. Lumsden, his English

partner, would, as a heretic, probably be unable to act as executor of a

will, and in any case would be seriously handicapped in any legal

proceedings. He therefore made no will, but solemnly entrusted his

servant with the task of carrying out his wishes. Jose was forty years

of age, wholly illiterate, but devoted to his old master, and even more

to Juanita. He enjoyed Don Fernan's entire confidence, and was fully

informed of his master's affairs. A sum of money had already been

invested in England that would produce an income of about L400 a year;

of this Mr. Lumsden was trustee. The remainder of his property

consisted of a country house and estate near Morata, some miles west of

Saragossa; the family plate and heirlooms; and the money realized by the

sale of his disposable stock in Barcelona. The movable property was all

given into Jose Pinzon's charge, to be handed over to Juanita when the

country should have settled down again.

"That won't be yet, I'm afraid," remarked Jack, "but no doubt Jose has

it safe enough. By the way, where is he?"

"I wish I knew," said Juanita anxiously. "Nothing has been heard of him

since the great sortie of Captain Mariano Galindo about ten days ago.

He volunteered among the brave two hundred, and was one of the first to

spike the French guns. But he never came back."

"Poor fellow!" said Jack. "I'm very sorry. We used to be great chums.

There aren't many like him. You will miss him sadly."

"Yes, indeed; and I wouldn't mind about the property if only he were

safe."

"But surely his disappearance doesn't affect the property?"

"Well, you see, nobody else knows where it is. Father didn't tell me.

He thought there would be less risk of harm if I knew nothing about it."

"But he would be sure to provide against Jose's death. Ah!" he

exclaimed, as a sudden light dawned, "that explains it. I had a letter

from him in Salamanca, telling me about another letter left with General

Palafox. No doubt everything was explained in that."

"Was explained! What do you mean?"

"The letter has disappeared--was stolen, mistaken for plans of the city.

But there's still a chance left. A third letter was sent to my father.

We must hope it was a duplicate of the lost one."

"Oh dear!" sighed Juanita, "to think that so many people should be

troubled with poor little me!"

"We seem to have rather muddled things among us," said Jack. "But I see

now what Mig Prig is aiming at. Have you heard that he is back in

Saragossa?"

"Miguel back!" exclaimed Juanita; in her tone there was a hint of

uneasiness. "Oh, I do hope I shall not meet him! But I won't think of

him."

"He's not worth it.--I was almost forgetting. I have brought some of

your trinkets from the Casa Ximenez. Will you--"

"Hark!" exclaimed Juanita, holding up her hand. There was a loud crash

as of falling masonry.

"They are bombarding again," said Jack, rising. "I must hasten to my

post. Good-bye, Juanita!"

"You will come and see us again when you have time?"

They both looked sympathetically at the huddled figure of Dona Teresa,

who had fallen asleep in her chair.

"Poor Auntie!" said Juanita. Then, as Jack turned towards the door, she

folded her mantilla about her head and dropped a low curtsy, saying

demurely: "Adios, Senor!"

*CHAPTER XXIII*

*The Fight in the Ruins*

Mines and Countermines--In the Cellars--Burrowing--Y Mines--An

Underground Enemy--The Foe Within--Planning a Surprise--At Dawn--Across

the Barricades--In the Enemy's Works--A Bird's-eye View--Through the

Wall--Sword versus Bayonet--Shut Out--A Mob Leader--Too much Zeal--Not

Proven

Jack walked downstairs abstractedly, and was only brought to himself by

the sudden realization that he had almost collided with a person

entering at the door. Looking up with a murmured apology, he saw that

the visitor was a burly priest, in long cassock and broad sombrero which

roofed a round jovial face. The priest was equally apologetic, and eyed

Jack curiously, stopping in the doorway and turning round to gaze after

his retreating figure. Outside, Jack found Pepito perched on a stone

post. He sprang to the ground when he saw his master.

"Well, imp," said Jack, "sticking to me as usual, eh?"

"Si, Senor. Senor knows the fat padre?"

"No. Do you?"

"A friend of the Busno Don Miguel," replied the boy.

"Indeed! How do you know that?"

"I saw them talking at the door of the great big house over there."

He pointed to the Franciscan convent on the other side of the road.

Jack looked thoughtful; he wondered whether this was the Padre

Consolacion of whom he had heard, and was half-minded to turn back and

make his acquaintance. That he had been seen in consultation with Miguel

was somewhat disturbing. But, on second thoughts, he decided that he

had already been long enough away from his command at Santa Engracia,

and he hastened his steps in that direction, anxious to see how things

had been progressing there in his absence.

When he left the Casa Alvarez, two hours before, he had given

instructions for the commencement of operations by which he hoped to

beat the French at their own game. From what he had learnt from Don

Cristobal he saw that the mistake up to the present had been the waiting

for the explosion of the French mines, the result being that the enemy

gained positions from which it usually proved impossible to dislodge

them. The only means of keeping them effectually in check was to

practise countermining, not in the hand-to-mouth manner in which it had

hitherto been attempted, but systematically, with a longer outlook, with

a regard to ultimate developments rather than to the immediate repelling

of attack. During his interview with the foreman that morning he had

explained his ideas, and learnt that, so far as the man's limited

experience went, there was no practical obstacle to their

accomplishment.

The French, as he had seen, had been for some days past working steadily

through the three parallel blocks of buildings that ran from the Santa

Engracia direction towards the Plaza Alvarez. They had made equal

progress in all three blocks. The limit of destruction was marked by

the Casas Vega, Tobar, and Vallejo, the first two being at the end of

their blocks immediately facing the Casa Alvarez, separated from each

other by a narrow lane, while the last was separated from the Casa Tobar

by the street running into the plaza. These three houses were still

standing, but it was obvious that they would form the next points of

attack, and it was highly probable that even now the enemy had begun to

cut galleries towards them.

Jack had made up his mind to anticipate the attack. Before leaving in

the morning he had learnt from the foreman, whose name was Pulgar, that

the work of mining underground could usually be heard from a distance of

about forty feet. From this he calculated that, if the French began to

work from their side immediately after their last attack, there would be

time for his own men to drive a short gallery beneath the wall of each

of the three houses before there was any risk of their operations being

heard by the enemy. He had therefore left instructions for a hole to be

cut beneath the farther party-wall of each house, where it adjoined the

house last demolished. He told Pulgar to see that the digging was done

as quietly as possible, and to be on the alert to catch the slightest

sound of the approach of the French miners in the opposite direction.

"Well, how are things getting on?" he asked of Don Cristobal, on

arriving at his post after his interview with Juanita.

"Excellently," was the reply. "Pulgar has kept the men at work without

relaxation."

"In shifts, I suppose?"

"Only one man can work at each tunnel, so he gave each man half an hour;

then his place was taken by another. Here is Pulgar himself."

"You are doing capitally, I hear, hombre," said Jack. "How far have the

men got?"

"The tunnels are nearly three feet long by this time, Senor. It takes

about an hour to cut away a foot."

"Any sound of the French?"

"None, Senor."

"Very well. Another four feet will finish these. But we mustn't stop

at that. We can't hope to keep the enemy back altogether by one

explosion at those walls. It would delay them, certainly, and do

considerable damage; but we'll have to prepare to give them much more

trouble farther back."

"I had thought of that, Senor."

"Well, I think we'll go and have a look at the cellars. Come along.

Bring your measure with you; we shall require that, and a candle."

Descending to the cellars of the Casa Alvarez, Jack found that they ran

along the walls on the west and north sides of the building, at a

distance of ten feet below the surface of the ground. They formed a

series of arched rooms leading one from the other, with small openings

for ventilation giving on the patio.

"Dark musty places these!" said Jack. "Judging by the appearance of

them, they haven't been used for a century. There's not even a bottle

of wine to be seen, let alone a rat. Ah! I spoke too soon; sh-h-h!"

A rat had just scurried along the wall into its hole in the corner.

"I have been thinking over things," resumed Jack, "and I shall be glad

of your opinion of the plan I have partly formed. Our object, of

course, must be to hold the French in check as long as possible; but if

they succeed in occupying the two houses opposite, and the Casa Vallejo,

we shall be very hard put to it to defend the plaza and this house.

They outnumber us. It is quite likely that, in spite of all we can do,

they will eventually succeed in obtaining a lodgment in these three

houses or their ruins. I propose, therefore, to plan our defence on the

assumption that they will do so. This house in which we now stand will

be our fort, and we should arrange so that we can do the enemy as much

damage as possible from this spot."

"That is reasonable, Senor," said Don Cristobal.

"Well, the greatest damage we can do will be done by mines like their

own--either to destroy their mines before they have time to explode

them, or to drive the enemy back when they have exploded their mines and

seized the houses. To do that effectually we require to drive at least

two galleries from these cellars under each house. But the Casa Vallejo

is too far away. We haven't men enough, and it would take too long, to

cut a gallery from here right across the plaza and street and under that

house. The Casas Vega and Tobar are much nearer, and I see nothing to

prevent us from cutting the galleries under them."

"In addition to the short tunnels already being cut under the

party-walls?" asked Don Cristobal.

"Oh yes! You see my aim? The short tunnels are to delay their attack

on those houses; the longer tunnels I propose are to check their advance

on this house when they have captured the others."

"But why two long galleries, Senor?" asked Pulgar.

"Because, after we have fired one, the French will come on in greater

strength again, thinking we have done our worst, and the explosion of

the second will have a shattering effect on them in every way."

"An excellent idea, Senor!" said Don Cristobal, "but our men are not too

strong, and it would cost immense labour to drive two galleries. It is

forty feet across the plaza between this and the houses opposite; you

must allow for several feet of tunnel in each house if you want to spare

the walls facing us--"

"Eight feet at least," interrupted Jack. "I don't want to destroy the

houses entirely."

"Well, that makes ninety-six feet of tunnelling for each house, and all

the earth to be carried back as it is dug out. You will work your men

to death, Senor."

Jack considered. For the moment he envied some friends of his who had

commissions in the Engineers. "They would have mugged up all this sort

of thing in their books," he said to himself. How could he achieve his

purpose without running the risk Don Cristobal had pointed out? He

stood for a time unconsciously tapping the stone floor with his foot as

he thought over the problem.

"I have it!" he exclaimed suddenly. "It's a case of letter Y--you see?

Drive one gallery half-way; then two branching out from it like the arms

of a capital Y. It won't save time, but it will save labour, and we

can't afford to knock the men up."

"That is it, Senor," said Pulgar, rubbing his hands.

"Then I will get you to arrange with the men so that they take turn and

turn about. And by the way, two short tunnels must be cut between the

Casa Vallejo and the house next it on this side--the Casa Hontanon, is

it not? Those houses are not so capable of defence as this is, but we

must do what we can to beat the enemy there also."

Pulgar at once set off to arrange with the workmen, while Jack proceeded

to organize the garrisoning of the houses. Except for a few shells

thrown over the ramparts nothing had been done by the French since the

explosion of the previous evening. The barricades in the streets and

lane were held by men of the Valencia regiment; Jack selected other men

from the same regiment, and some of the best of the guerrilleros, and

thus formed three companies of twenty men each to garrison the three

casas, Vega, Tobar, and Vallejo. Fifty men were held in reserve in the

Casa Alvarez.

As the day wore on, Jack found that the tunnelling proceeded more

rapidly than he had expected. Working on a more definite plan than

hitherto, the men saw that their chances of seriously checking the

French advance were much greater, and dug and carried with a dogged

perseverance that gave Jack a new respect for the Spanish character. By

the evening the short holes under the party-walls nearest the French

were ready for the charges. Thinking it advisable to see for himself

what had been done, Jack crawled through one of the tunnels with a

lighted candle, feeling the oppression of the dank confined air. He saw

by the dim light that the sides and roof were roughly shored up with

timber, and that, as he had wished, there was a slight slope upwards, so

that the head of the tunnel was only about four feet from the surface.

At the end he listened for the sound of the French miners, who, he

guessed, were approaching, but hearing nothing concluded that they were

not as yet so far advanced with their work.

Returning to the rear end of the tunnel, he arranged for a heavy charge

of powder to be placed in position with the fuses. When this had been

done it was time to "tamp" the tunnels--fill them up again with earth to

a distance greater than the depth of the mines below the surface. This

was necessary, or when the explosion took place it would exhaust its

force along the open tunnel instead of in the upward direction intended.

But Jack decided not to do any tamping until he was sure that the French

had driven their galleries so close to his own that the explosion of his

own mines would destroy the enemy's. If he found that the French

tunnels were to the right or left of his own, so far away that his

explosion would not greatly affect them, he would have to await the

French explosion and then use his own mines to repel the attack on the

buildings that would instantly follow.

Late at night Antonio the guerrillero, who had been one of the most

enthusiastic of the workers, reported that at the farther end of the

short tunnel into the Casa Vega he had heard the faint sound of picks.

Jack instantly crawled into the tunnel to listen for himself.

Undoubtedly the man was right. Giving orders that men should take turns

to watch all through the night at the tunnel head, he went to bed after

midnight, tired out with the day's exertions.

Before he fell asleep his mind ran over the strange events with which

the last two days had been crowded. In particular he reflected on the

story he had heard from Juanita, and could not help wondering at the

extraordinary mischances which had befallen her affairs. The letter

confided to Palafox must have contained instructions in regard to the

property which old Don Fernan had preserved somewhere for his daughter,

and had been written as a precaution in case anything happened to his

trusted servant Jose. Some perverse fate seemed to have decreed that

Jose should die and the letter be lost simultaneously. And then his

thoughts turned to Miguel. His story about the projected marriage was

clearly a sheer fabrication; but it showed what his intentions were. He

meant to take advantage of Juanita's orphaned condition to coax or

cajole her into a marriage, and thereby to secure the property which he

knew must be hers. It seemed improbable that he could have learnt where

her father had stored his wealth; it might be that he supposed Juanita

knew. His sudden nocturnal appearance in Saragossa, with a story of

overpowering a sentry, was in itself very suspicious. Could he be

playing a double game? At any rate Jack felt that he must be on his

guard, on behalf of Juanita as well as himself; that Miguel would not

hesitate to injure him he had now little doubt.

These thoughts, however, were banished by the important work of the next

day. At dawn he learnt that hour by hour during the night the approach

of the French had been more distinctly heard. All that morning he paid

frequent visits to the Vega tunnel, and about eleven o'clock he felt

sure, from the direction and the proximity of the sounds, that the

French miners had arrived at a point in a line with the head of his

gallery. The mining continued; it would take them between six and seven

hours to reach the wall. Leaving Don Cristobal in charge, with

instructions to keep as vigilant a look-out as ever, Jack went to see

how the Y-shaped mines from the cellars of the Casa Alvarez were

progressing, and then made a general round of the district. Several

times during the day he had heard the sound of explosions in other parts

of the city, but had been too busy to enquire about what was happening.

He learnt now, however, that a block of houses twenty yards nearer the

Coso, in the direction of the Franciscan convent, had been carried by

the French, by which means they had extended their attacking front by

nearly three times that distance. He heard also that trenches had been

opened against the Jesus Convent, in the suburb of San Lazaro, across

the river. It was evident that the enemy were at last arranging for a

determined attack in that quarter, where they had done little since the

early days of the siege. The possession of San Lazaro would enable them

to harass the whole north side of the city, the only portion that

hitherto had been immune, and where, consequently, the greater part of

the stores was collected and the mass of the fever-stricken inhabitants

huddled together.

About six o'clock he was recalled to the Casa Vega by the news that the

French gallery had reached the wall and the tunnelling had ceased. It

would take them some four hours, Jack conjectured, to tamp their mine;

when that was done they would no doubt retire from the tunnel, and it

would then be safe for the Spaniards to tamp their mine in turn. If

they started to do so earlier, the sound would betray them. At ten

o'clock all sounds from the French end had ceased; then Jack, after

allowing a short interval, set his men to perform the tamping. Working

without relaxation, they completed the task by two in the morning.

Within four or five hours the French would explode their mine beneath

the wall.

The first thing Jack did on being awakened by Pepito half an hour before

dawn was to enquire whether any sounds of the French progress had been

heard in the Casas Tobar and Vallejo. In the former he learned the

mining had been heard for several hours; in the latter there had been no

sounds at all. Satisfied that immediate work would only be required in

the Casa Vega, he proceeded to get his men into order.

His plan, carefully thought out on the previous day, was to withdraw his

garrison from the Casa Vega, leaving only one man to fire the mine;

otherwise a large number would be uselessly sacrificed. The inrush of

the French after the explosion of their mine was to be the signal for

the firing of his own, and that in turn the signal for a sortie of the

whole of his available force. By this means he hoped to drive the

French back to such a distance that he could discover and blow up the

galleries they were driving into the Casa Tobar, and probably into the

Casa Vallejo also.

It still wanted some minutes of dawn when his motley force was drawn up

in the plaza behind the walls of Vega and Tobar. It numbered only 350

men in all--some haggard burghers of the city, some rugged guerrilleros

from the country districts, a few regulars from General Fiballer's

Valencian regiment, a few of Palafox's grenadiers. All bore signs of

the stress and toil of the past few weeks; but all were animated by one

spirit of indomitable resolution. Fifty of the best marksmen were at

once picked out to garrison Tobar and Vallejo and harass the French with

musketry-fire from the windows. Eighty good men were drafted as a

reserve. This left 220, of whom 120 were told off to make the main

sortie over the barricade in the street between Tobar and Vallejo, while

30 were appointed to guard the shorter barricade across the lane between

Tobar and Vega. The remaining 70 were ordered to march to the upper

side of the Casa Vega and make a demonstration at the barricade erected

in the street there.

Jack had resolved to lead the principal sortie in person, and he devoted

special attention to the organization of his band. Ten of the men were

ordered to carry bags of powder to blow up the French galleries into

Tobar and Vallejo, if the sortie party were able to push home their

charge. Another ten were given short ladders and mats to assist the

rest across the barricade, which was of timber, some twelve feet in

height, and studded at the top with sharp nails. It had been

constructed so hastily, and with so little idea of the possibility of a

sortie, that it formed almost as formidable an obstacle to the Spaniards

as to the French.

The sortie party beyond the Casa Vega was entrusted to Don Cristobal,

the reserve to Pablo Quintanar, the chief of the guerrilleros. This man

was very much dissatisfied with the post allotted him; he grumbled and

protested that he deserved a more prominent part in the operations, but

Jack had a vague distrust of the fellow, and somewhat curtly refused to

alter his arrangements.

All was now ready. In the chill foggy dawn the men waited at their

several posts for the expected explosion. Sounds floated across the

river from the French lines: the blare of bugles, the rat-tat of drums,

occasionally the loud call of bustling officers. Jack began to wonder

whether the French would wait until their galleries into Tobar and

Vallejo were ready, and then spring the three mines simultaneously. But

the anxious period of waiting was at length ended. About an hour after

daybreak there was a dull roar; the whole district seemed to tremble;

there was the crash of falling stones and timber, a cloud of smoke and

dust from the Casa Vega, and with a shout the French rushed into the

ruined building beyond, to make good their position there.

Then came a terrible interval of suspense, even more trying to the

nerves of the Spaniards than the long wait for the French explosion.

When would they hear the answering explosion? Had the gallant fellow

who had offered to fire the train perished before his work was done?

Jack wondered, waited anxiously. Second after second slipped by; he

could hear the ticking of the watch in his vest pocket. At last when,

unable to endure the uncertainty longer, he was about to rush into the

casa himself, a deafening noise like a thunderclap close at hand checked

him. The French mine, acting immediately upon the wall and at a

considerable depth below-ground, had spent most of its force on the wall

itself. But Jack's mine, having only a few feet of earth above it, and

being heavily charged, exerted its destructive effect in all directions.

It blew to fragments the ruins of the house adjoining the Casa Vega,

brought down what remained of its roof, shattered the remnants of the

walls on either side, and filled the air for a hundred yards around with

dust and debris, a few of Jack's men, even in the plaza behind, being

injured by objects that were shot clean over the houses. Jack, from his

position, could not see the extent of the damage; but the fact that the

explosion had actually occurred left him in no doubt that the French in

the ruined house beyond the Casa Vega must have been annihilated, and in

the ruins, where they had but slight protection, they must have suffered

heavy loss.

But he hardly waited to estimate the effect of his successful coup.

Immediately after the explosion he gave his men the order to advance;

they dashed from cover and began to swarm over the barricades. At the

last moment Jack sent a man with orders to barricade as far as possible

the newly-made breach in the Vega wall. Then, with Antonio at his side,

he led the charge. The dust was still falling in clouds as they came to

the Tobar barricade. So sudden was the unexpected event, and so swiftly

did the Spaniards move, that their manoeuvre was not discovered by the

French until the greater number had crossed and, headed by Jack and

Antonio, charged down the street. But within fifty paces a shot rang out

from beyond the ruined house on their left; it was followed immediately

by a scattered fire, and amid yells of rage and pain many of Jack's men

fell. The French were firing from the half-dismantled houses they had

rushed a few days before, which, being somewhat remote from the scene of

the explosion, and sheltered by the ruins of the house adjoining the

Casa Tobar, had not suffered like the rest of the French position.

Nothing daunted by their losses, the Spaniards pressed on with shouts of

"Nuestra Senora del Pillar! A la cuchillo!" Don Cristobal meanwhile

had swept round the upper barricade. The ruins beyond the houses lately

burnt were carried with a rush. Drums were heard beating not far away;

there were loud shouts in French and the hurried tramp of feet. It was

clear that the enemy, not anticipating danger at this point, had drawn

away their troops in the direction of the Franciscan convent; they had

expected that under cover of the explosion the Casa Vega would be

captured, as a score of houses in the same quarter had been rushed

before, by a handful of disciplined men. No plans had been made to meet

so unexpected a movement of retaliation; for a moment the battle was to

the Spaniards.

But Jack knew well that he durst not attempt to push his attack far. He

had given orders to Antonio, who had led a small body to the assault of

a house to the left, where the street bent inwards from the ramparts, to

blow up the head of the gallery into the Casa Vallejo, then to retire

towards that house, recross the barricade, and take up a position behind

it. To cover these movements, Jack directed a party of his men to keep

up a hot fire on the house at the bend of the street, from which some

French marksmen had swept the front of the attacking force. Within a

few minutes he heard a sharp report. At the same time Antonio's men

came streaming back towards Vallejo and over the barricade. One of the

French galleries was evidently accounted for.

Meanwhile Jack's own position had been hotly assailed in front. The

ruined houses on the right of the street were now full of Frenchmen, who

charged again and again across the debris up to the party-wall, only to

be driven back by the men stationed there, under such cover as the

irregular remnants of the broken walls afforded. There was no time to

barricade the gap; it was only a question of time before the French must

break through in overwhelming numbers. Don Cristobal had occupied the

ruins adjoining the Casa Vega, but he was now ordered back across his

barricade, from which he could protect the flank of Jack's force when it

became necessary to withdraw it.

At this juncture Jack felt the necessity of obtaining a view of the

whole position. He looked round for some point of observation. Through

a large rent in one of the walls to his right he perceived the remains

of a staircase to the second story. Was there time to clamber up it

before the French burst in? "I'll chance it," he said to himself.

Ordering his men to stand firm, he ran across the narrow lane, through

the wall, and began to ascend the staircase. It was a rickety

structure; its top had been blown away; it remained upright only by

favour of one or two stout joists which had been so firmly embedded in

the stone as to withstand the shock of the explosion when the party-wall

was cracked. Up he went. The stairs creaked under him; at every step

it seemed that the whole structure would fall with him. But at length

he reached a spot whence, through a hole in what had been once the wall,

he could see for a considerable distance over the quarter occupied by

the French. To his left he saw the dreary waste of ruins through which,

by patient mining and sudden rushes, the French had made their painful

way from the convent of Santa Engracia, which stood a woful spectacle of

destruction some hundreds of yards distant.

Eastward he traced their progress through a series of dismantled

buildings, up to within a short distance of the Franciscan convent.

Farther to the right they had made yet deeper inroads into the city, and

were now almost within arm's-length of the Coso. Jack thought, with a

sudden pang, of the danger Juanita would soon be in, and decided that at

the earliest opportunity he must persuade her to change her quarters and

retire northwards, loth as he was to see her in that fever-haunted spot.

Suddenly his eye was caught by a compact body of French, about 500 in

number, advancing at the quick step across the wide open space outside

the Santa Engracia convent. They had evidently been hurried from the

entrenchments beyond the walls. At the same time, glancing to the

right, he saw another body of men issuing from some buildings near the

Coso. Clearly no time was to be lost. Outnumbered already, he had only

held his own up to the present by having the advantage of the defensive

position. But the position was not strong. If the French occupied the

adjoining ruins in force there was scarcely an inch of cover for his

men. He must, therefore, at once blow up the head of the French gallery

leading below the Casa Tobar, which he had been unable to do hitherto

for fear of destroying his own men, and then withdraw his troops to

their original position. In face of the large French reinforcements

coming up, it would be as much as he could do to hold his own even

there. Springing down the staircase, three steps at a time, one of them

breaking through and falling with a crash behind him, he hastened back

to his men. He called up a little musketeer belonging to the Murcian

tiradores--one of the few survivors of that regiment--

"Hombre, run back to the Casa Alvarez; tell Pablo Quintanar to leave a

gap in the Vega wall wide enough to allow the passage of men in single

file. Understand, in single file."

"Si, Senor," said the man, and bounded off.

Now Jack prepared with all possible speed to evacuate his advanced

position. He was delayed by the necessity of removing his wounded; for

all this time the French had been firing into the houses, and, though

their aim was bad, several shots took effect owing to the Spaniards'

almost reckless exposure of themselves. Before he actually gave the

order to evacuate, the French, unaware of the reinforcements hastening

to their support, gathered themselves together for another charge. They

came gallantly almost to the very muzzles of the Spanish muskets; then

they recoiled before a terrible volley, and fell back in confusion.

Seizing the moment, Jack ordered his men to retire towards the Casa

Vega.

[Illustration: Jack has a Narrow Escape]

"Leave the gap in the wall open for me," he said to one of the regulars;

"I shall not be long behind you."

Then, catching up a burning rope, he hastened to the end of the French

gallery, where his men had laid a train of gunpowder connecting with a

heavy charge. He had just time to set light to the train before a group

of three or four French soldiers dashed towards him through the ruins.

His perilous task was done; he turned to follow his men, the enemy, not

waiting to fire, close behind him. As he was crossing the lane dividing

the Casas Vega and Tobar there was a loud explosion; the gallery had

blown up, and with it the head of the French column immediately behind

his pursuers. Only two men were now on his track. He glanced over his

shoulder, and judged that there was time to reach the gap in the wall

before he could be overtaken. At this moment his foot slipped on a loose

heap of fallen masonry; he fell headlong, and before he could recover

himself, the foremost pursuer was upon him. Wriggling over instantly on

his side, he drew his pistol, and managed to snap it at the man when the

point of his bayonet was within a foot of him. The ball hit the man

full on the forehead, and he dropped like a log.

Springing to his feet, Jack drew his sword in the nick of time to meet

the attack of the second pursuer. It was sword against bayonet, and if

the latter had been in the hands of a British soldier, Jack, in spite of

his skill as a swordsman, might have stood a poor chance. But the

bayonet, as wielded by a Continental soldier, was not the same

formidable weapon, and it happened that his attacker was a Pole--one of

Colonel Chlopiski's Vistula regiment, which, as Jack had already learnt,

had proved the most troublesome of all the French troops since the

capture of Santa Engracia. Jack had more than once shown himself to be

a swordsman of exceptional resource, and at this critical moment the old

French emigre who had been his fencing master in London, if he could

have seen the duel, would have beamed with satisfaction. After a few

passes Jack gave the Pole an opportunity to lunge; he eagerly seized it;

his thrust was lightly parried, and the next moment Jack was in beneath

his guard.

As he hurried away, even in that breathless moment Jack could not help

feeling some pity for his two gallant foemen who would see the Vistula

no more. It was in the hope of freeing their country from the bondage

of Russia that the Poles had allied themselves with Napoleon. They were

now purchasing their own freedom by assisting to enslave others.

Hastening across the ruins adjoining the Casa Vega, Jack saw terrible

signs of the havoc wrought by his mine. The attacking French force had

been a large one. It had perished to a man. But there was no time for

anything but escape from the horde of French now rapidly approaching

him. Scrambling over charred beams, shattered brickwork, fragments of

household furniture, and the dead bodies of the fallen enemy, he drew

near to the spot where the explosion of the French mine had blown a

large hole in the party-wall. It was here that Jack expected to find

the gap through which his men had preceded him into safety. But there

was no gap. The hole was completely closed up, and the obstruction was

too strong to be won through, too high to clamber over. Nonplussed for

the moment, Jack turned to look for another means of escape, aware, as

he did so, of loud voices in altercation on the other side of the

barricade.

Bullets were now pattering on the brickwork, and the sound of scrambling

feet in the adjoining ruins showed that he had been seen by the French,

and that they were making towards him. There was not an instant to

lose. To his left, as he faced the French quarter, the ruins were open

and exposed to fire from several directions; escape was impossible that

way. But on his right there still stood the remnant of what had been a

lath-and-plaster wall between two rooms. He caught at this chance of

even temporary concealment. Bending low, he dodged along behind its

precarious shelter till he came to a ruined window within a few feet of

the barricade defended by Don Cristobal. The rattle of musketry could

now be heard on all hands. Jack felt sure that his appearance at the

window would be the signal for a hail of bullets from the opposite side

of the street, at the angle nearer the Coso where the French had

obtained a lodgment. But it was now or never, and he was just wrenching

away a broken iron bar, to squeeze his way through, when his ears were

assailed by unexpected shouts from the street. To his amazement, he saw

Don Cristobal's men come swarming over the barricade and rushing along

the street towards the French. But it was not Don Cristobal who led

them; the leader was a tall figure who rushed forward, sword in hand,

with long robe tucked up, and bare arms, from which the sleeves had been

flung back over the shoulders. He was shouting in frenzied tones. Jack

recognized Latin phrases mingled with Spanish. It was the patriot

priest, Santiago Sass.

Wondering what had happened, Jack jumped into the street, safe now, for

the French were occupied with the rush of the headlong Spaniards. There

they were, cutting their way through a large body of French troops,

heedless of the pelting bullets from the surrounding houses, yelling,

slashing, and, alas! many of them falling.

"What imbecile folly!" exclaimed Jack in his anger. The rash charge was

useless, hopeless. All that he could do was to cover the inevitable

retreat. Clambering over the barricade, Jack ran towards the Casa

Alvarez, overtaking on the way Don Cristobal, who had hastened thither

on the same errand as himself.

"Men of the reserve," cried Jack, "follow me!"

Pablo Quintanar, their leader, was, strangely, not with them. They

dashed after Jack and Don Cristobal, and reached the barricade just in

time. The Spaniards, all that were left of them, were streaming over

it, broken and disheartened, pursued by bullets from the French. Last of

them all came Santiago Sass, splashed with blood from head to foot,

blood streaming from a wound on his brow.

"In te, Domine, speravi!" he cried breathlessly as he staggered over the

barricade.

Catching him by the arm, Jack dragged the exhausted priest out of harm's

way, and then, ordering his men to hold the barricade, enquired of Don

Cristobal what was the meaning of the recent extraordinary movement. He

learnt that Santiago Sass, who was ever where danger was thickest, had

been passing the quarter, and, attracted by the noise of the explosions,

had hastened, full of burning zeal, to the nearest barricade. There,

finding Don Cristobal's force, as he thought, culpably inactive, and

hearing musketry on all sides, he had jumped to the conclusion that the

Spaniards were skulking, and, refusing to listen to Don Cristobal's

explanation, had poured out upon them a torrent of invective and

exhortation, called on them to follow him, and led them furiously over

the barricade. Such was his influence that not a man refused to obey

his call.

Meanwhile the hot fire maintained by the reserve had driven the French

back. But they showed some disposition to come on in greater strength

and attempt the capture of the barricade. Santiago Sass, furious at the

failure of his ill-timed sortie, and still more with Jack for forcibly

removing him from the scene, began to vent his wrath upon him.

"Do not stay me!" he cried. "Cursed be any that flinches! Dominus vir

pugnator! Let us haste--"

"Senor Padre," interrupted Jack quietly, "you led a most gallant charge,

but look--it has cost me some twenty good men."

He pointed to the corpse-strewn street. The priest looked, and was

evidently impressed. Gathering his skirts about him he sped away

towards the Coso in search of more forlorn hopes to lead, the sound of

his wild and whirling words being scarcely drowned by the noise of the

battle.

For the rest of that day French and Spaniards continued to occupy their

respective positions. The former made no attempt at organized attack;

they clearly dreaded the discovery of more mines. The Spaniards were

not strong enough to expel the enemy altogether. Thus, when nightfall

again put an end to the fighting, the situation was essentially the same

as it had been in the morning.

Reckoning up the results, Jack was able to congratulate himself on

having accomplished all that he had hoped to do. The two French

galleries towards the Casas Tobar and Vallejo were destroyed; the French

had suffered very heavy loss in men. The explosion of their mine in the

Casa Vega had not furthered their advance, and their work for three days

past was rendered null. But their failure, Jack knew, would only nerve

them to redoubled energy; he must be prepared for an even more strenuous

attack on his position. All that he could do was to ensure that if the

houses must be captured it should be with a maximum of delay and loss to

the French.

As he went the round of his district, before proceeding to convey his

nightly report to Palafox, Pablo Quintanar, the guerrilla leader, came

up and made a complaint against his subordinate Antonio. He had been

attacked, he said, and nearly murdered by Antonio for refusing to reopen

the barricade thrown across the gap in the wall of the Casa Vega.

"Did you not receive my order?" demanded Jack.

"Your order was to hold the barricade, Senor."

"But you opened a gap to let in my men. I sent the order by one of the

Murcian tiradores."

"Yes, indeed, and the men came through one by one, and when the last was

through I closed the barricade."

"And shut me out!"

Jack looked sharply at the man, but as usual was unable to catch his

eye.

"I waited for the Senor," he protested, "five, ten, twenty minutes; but

he did not come. What was I to think but that he was dead? If I had

known--"

"You would have acted otherwise. Well, as you did make so unfortunate

a--mistake, perhaps the less you say about Antonio's attempt to mend it

the better. Buenas noches, hombre!"