“It is that devil,” he whispered. “He is treating another as he treated
me. But on, on, for Heaven help us if he lays his hands upon us.”
One by one we crawled down the narrow goat track.
At the bottom of the cliff we were back in the woods once more. Suddenly
a yellow glare shone above us, and the black shadows of the tree-trunks
started out in front.
They had fired the beacon behind us. Even from where we stood we could
see that impassive body amid the flames, and the black figures of the
guerillas as they danced, howling like cannibals, round the pile. Ha!
how I shook my fist at them, the dogs, and how I vowed that one day my
Hussars and I would make the reckoning level!
De Pombal knew how the outposts were placed and all the paths which led
through the forest. But to avoid these villains we had to plunge among
the hills and walk for many a weary mile. And yet how gladly would I
have walked those extra leagues if only for one sight which they brought
to my eyes! It may have been two o'clock in the morning when we halted
upon the bare shoulder of a hill over which our path curled. Looking
back we saw the red glow of the embers of the beacon as if volcanic
fires were bursting from the tall peak of Merodal. And then, as I gazed,
I saw something else--something which caused me to shriek with joy and
to fall upon the ground, rolling in my delight. For, far away upon the
southern horizon, there winked and twinkled one great yellow light,
throbbing and flaming, the light of no house, the light of no star,
but the answering beacon of Mount d'Ossa, which told that the army of
Clausel knew what Etienne Gerard had been sent to tell them.