*CHAPTER XXV*
*Pepito finds a Clue*
Morning Light--Bombarded--An Afrancesado--From the Roofs--In the CasaVallejo--A Fight at Daybreak--Anticipated--The Jesus Convent--NewBarricades--Repulsed--Borrowing a Gun--Round-Shot and Grape--Out ofAction--Odds and Evens
Jack was awakened next morning by the sounds of altercation outside thesmall room on the ground floor of the Casa Alvarez that he had reservedfor himself.
"You shall not!" he heard Pepito cry in his shrill voice. "The Senorsleeps; you--shall--not--"
Then his voice was stifled by the noise of scuffling. A heavy thud shookthe door, as though some massive body had been driven against it.Springing from his bed, on which he had lain down in all his clothessave his boots, Jack went to the door, opened it, and saw Antonio, theguerrillero, raining blow after blow on the small form of Pepito, whohad twisted himself about one of the big man's legs and held on grimly,though he must have suffered not a little.
"Come, come!" said Jack; "what is it, Antonio? Pepito, let him go!"
Pepito sprang away instantly.
"The Busno wanted to wake the Senor," he piped, with a fierce look atAntonio.
"You waked me between you. Well, Antonio?"
"Senor, I was on night duty; I was to be relieved at two o'clock, so itwas arranged by Don Cristobal; the chief was to relieve me. He did notcome. I waited, one hour, two hours; he did not come. The Senor knowsI would not leave my post. At five came Don Cristobal on his round ofthe posts. I told him; he put a man in my place and I went home tiredas a dog, and there, in the top room I share with the chief, there,Senor, I saw him, Pablo Quintanar, on the floor, still, dead, and bloodall round him."
Jack looked sharply at the man. There was every sign of amazement andagitation in his face, but Jack remembered that he had quarrelled withhis chief on the previous day, and could not but suspect there had beena repetition of the dispute when the men met in their lodging, and that,possibly by accident, it was Antonio's knife that had done the fatalwork. Antonio appeared to guess what was passing in his captain's mind.
"I swear I did not do it, Senor. I knew nothing of it till I saw himthere on the floor. We quarrelled; yes, the Senor knows that, but Ikeep my knife for the French; I would not--"
"Take me to the place," interrupted Jack coldly. Staying only to pull onhis boots, he accompanied the man to the dirty lane and into the dingyhouse from which Miguel had stealthily issued some six hours before.Pepito was at his heels as he climbed the filthy staircase; the gipsysniffed and snorted at the foul odours his nostrils encountered, and puthis hand on his knife as he passed each doorway.
They entered the attic. The gray light of a dull morning coming througha narrow skylight barely illuminated the sordid room. On the floor,stretched on his face, with arms extended towards the door, lay thefigure of the guerrillero. This was no death in fair fight, face toface with his enemy; but the base, stealthy thrust of an assassin.
"That is how I found him, Senor," said Antonio.
"Yes; it is the Spanish way."
He had noticed that the dead man's hand clasped a knife. Stooping, heremoved it from his grasp; the steel was bright and clear, as though ithad never been used for any but innocent purposes. Jack, as he held theweapon, reflected. The man had drawn his knife. It must have been forattack or for self-defence against an enemy in front of him; thereforethe blow from behind that killed him must have been dealt by a secondperson. Antonio was scarcely likely to have brought another man intohis personal quarrel; Jack was inclined to believe that he wasguiltless, as he said. He looked around the room; there were few signsof a scuffle. It was useless to institute an enquiry among the otherpeople in the house, and the sound of musketry and cannon-shots withoutalready called him to his duties.
"Bury the poor wretch," he said, "and then come to me."
"The Senor believes I did not do it?"
"Yes, yes; we have no time for enquiries. There is work for us who areleft alive."
He hurried away. There had been something sinister about theguerrillero, something that Jack could not fathom; perhaps it wasresentment at a stranger being brought in and placed above him; but Jackcould not help feeling a passing pity for the Spaniard who had met hisdeath by the hands presumably of one of his own countrymen, instead ofin heroic combat with the enemy.
He returned to his post. The situation as it had been left on theprevious evening had now been complicated. The cannon-shots he had heardin the attic had been fired from two pieces mounted by the French at theangle of the street. An epaulement of sand-bags and gabions had beenthrown across between the ruined blocks, and from that point of vantagethe French gunners were pointing their cannon so that their shots fellplump upon the walls of the Casas Vega and Tobar. These, it was clear,would before long be a heap of ruins. Jack sent men to the end of hissubterranean galleries to listen whether mining operations had beenresumed by the French. When they returned, reporting that no soundcould be heard, he concluded that the signal failure of their last mineshad been enough for the enemy, and that in future they would probablytrust entirely to cannonade, followed by attacks in force. He could notreply to their artillery; all that lay in his power was to hold his menin readiness to repel a charge, and to fire his long Y-shaped mines whenthe French attack was being pressed home.
Some two hours later he was consulting with Don Cristobal on thepossibilities of capturing the French guns in a night attack, whenPepito came up, looking even more than usually mysterious. He stoodbefore Jack with his hands behind him, waiting until his master, nowdeeply engrossed in conversation, should notice him.
"I should dearly like to make the attempt," Jack was saying, "but yourarguments are, I am afraid, conclusive. We can't afford to lose any ofour men unless we can be sure of success, and after their recentwarnings I don't think we shall catch the French napping. We must giveup the idea, I suppose, but you will see that our men keep a keen watchon the epaulement, Senor-- Well, what is it, Pepito?"
Pepito came forward carelessly.
"I found these, Senor," he said, handing two papers to Jack, who tookthem carelessly. Without unfolding them, he asked:
"Where did you get these?"
"In the tall house, Senor."
"Which tall house?"
"Where the Senor went just now."
"Where the man was murdered?"
"Si, Senor. The big Antonio took him away. I was there. In a minute,two men came in. 'Now we get a bed,' they say. They pull the dirtyquilt off the bed. One man carries it; the other pulls off themattress. There, on the boards, I see two papers. I snatch them, andsay: 'I take these to the Senor Capitan'. The man laughs; and here theyare, Senor."
Jack unfolded the papers and glanced at them curiously. Suddenly hestarted, and keenly scrutinized one of them.
"It is explained now, Senor," he said to Don Cristobal, at the same timelaying the papers before him. "Quintanar was a spy."
"An afrancesado!" ejaculated the Spaniard.
"Unhappily. One of the papers, you see, is a pass through the Frenchlines; the other a rough plan of our defences. See, the miserablefellow had begun to dot in our mines under the houses opposite. Someonemust have discovered his treachery, and killed him without remorse."
"So perish all traitors!" said Don Cristobal.
At this moment a man rushed in with the news that a small breach hadbeen made in the wall of the Casa Tobar.
"We must do something to check them," said Jack, rising. "A few goodmarksmen on the top of this house might pick off their gunners; let usgo and see."
They went up the staircase towards the roof, Pepito, left alone, put hishand into his pocket, and drew out a small silver buckle, such asSpanish burghers and officers wore on their shoes.
"Senor has the papers," he muttered. "Ca! I have the buckle. Thebuckle is better than the papers."
He swung it round his forefinger, humming und
er his breath, and wasstill toying with it when Jack came downstairs again. Then he hurriedlythrust it into his pocket, and stood unconcernedly as though waiting fororders.
A moment's glance had shown Jack that his plan of placing marksmen onthe roof would be useless. The Casas Vega and Tobar, though much lowerthan the Casa Alvarez, were not low enough to allow an effective fireover them. But what could not be done from the Casa Alvarez might bedone from the lower roofs nearer the guns. Jack lost no time in makinghis way to the flat roof of the Casa Tobar. Carefully crawling alongand peeping over, he saw that the angle of depression was just sharpenough to allow a good marksman to take aim at the gunners' heads. Itwould be dangerous work, for the French would instantly perceive thesource of the shots, and would bring a concentrated fire to bear inreturn. There was no parapet to the roof, but a parapet could perhapsbe extemporized with sand-bags, between which the Spaniards' musketsmight be placed.
Returning to the ground, Jack explained what he had in his mind, andAntonio at once volunteered to make the attempt. With some of his menhe climbed to the roof, where they pushed sand-bags along until theycame to the edge. Then one of the men tried a shot. He missed. ButAntonio took more deliberate aim, through the interstice between twosand-bags, and hit one of the French gunners in the arm.
Three Frenchmen had been hit before the enemy discovered whence camethese disconcerting shots. Then bullets began to patter on the wallsand roof. But the Spaniards were too well protected by theirextemporized parapet to be in much fear, and continued their firingwithout suffering serious loss. Before the day was out the French foundit the part of discretion to withdraw their gunners, and for the timebeing the cannon were useless.
Jack was not surprised next morning to learn that the French mining workhad been renewed. This time the sounds were heard in the Casa Vallejo.The French had evidently seen that their only chance of carrying theposition was by reverting to the slow burrowing which had beensuccessful in earlier days. Jack went himself to the attacked house.The sounds through the wall were very faint, but there could be no doubtthat the enemy were engaged in repairing the gallery destroyed in thesortie, though they were as yet thirty or forty feet away. It wasprobable that they had resumed, or would soon resume, operations in theCasas Vega and Tobar also, and dispositions must be made to meet them.
It was Jack's practice every morning to call the roll of the men underhis charge. Every day the force dwindled, and the physical weakness ofthe survivors had patently increased. Wishing to spare them as much aspossible, he had been indisposed to set them to the arduous work ofmining until he felt sure that he was seriously threatened. The factthat the French had resumed their tunnelling showed that there was nowno time to be lost, and the morning was but little advanced when menwere busily engaged in clearing out the galleries, in Vega and Tobar,that had been tamped and fired, so that they might be recharged. Butwhile the sounds of mining grew clearer in front of Vallejo, hourspassed without the Spaniards detecting any signs of activity towards theother two houses. Leaving men to keep watch there, and report if anychange took place, Jack returned to Vallejo, where it seemed evidentthat the only present danger was to be apprehended.
He stood with Don Cristobal near the end of the short gallery beneathVallejo and the ruined house beyond. About eleven o'clock he was struckby a difference in the sounds, which up to the present had been fitfullyinterrupted.
"Listen, Senor!" he said to Don Cristobal. "I fancy the French aremaking several tunnels this time. Don't you think so? There is nobreak in the sound now, as there would be if they were driving only oneor two; and yet there is a slight difference in the quality of the soundat successive moments. Do you hear? There; that was a deeper soundthan the one before it."
"You are right, Senor," returned the Spaniard. "We can do little on ourside, I fear."
"No. You see what a piece of arrant folly that rush of Santiago Sasswas. Several of our best miners were killed; and what with thenecessity of defending the barricades, and maintaining constantgarrisons in the houses, we simply can't hope to match the Frenchunderground. All we can do is to wait till the right moment comes, andthen explode our little mine first. If we let the French anticipate us,the explosion of several mines at once will blow ours up or make ituseless, and all our work will be thrown away."
"How many galleries do you think the enemy are cutting?"
"If we listen carefully we can tell."
They were silent, and after about a quarter of an hour Jack declaredthat he had counted four separate operations. He sent for one of themore experienced miners, and asked him to count independently. The manconfirmed his opinion, adding that he thought there would be no dangerof explosions from the French side for a day or two.
The rest of that day passed quietly. But early next morning thenecessity of maintaining adequate guards at the exposed points of hisposition was brought home to Jack. During the night a large number ofFrench had been silently posted in the ruined house at the end of thelane to the north of the Casa Vega. Issuing from these ruins, almost assoon as day dawned, they rushed towards the barricade, bearing fascinesand scaling-ladders. But Don Cristobal, who was in command at thispoint, proved equal to the occasion. He sent off a messenger to Jack inthe Casa Alvarez as soon as he saw signs of the French movement, andwith the thirty resolute men of his command he held the enemy off,showing much coolness in awaiting their onset and ordering his men tofire at the right moment. When Jack came up at the head of aconsiderable reinforcement, the French were decisively driven off,leaving more than a score of dead behind them. They retired inconfusion, some going into the ruins from which the attack had beenmade, others retreating down the street until they found protection fromthe Spaniards' musketry at the sharp bend in the roadway.
Hastening then to the Casa Vallejo, Jack found that the sounds of minersat work had been steadily growing more distinct. It was clearly time toprepare his own mine. The gallery extended some six feet beneath thefloor of the ruined house adjoining. A heavy charge was laid in it;then the mine was tamped as quickly as possible. All was now inreadiness. Through that day Jack scarcely left the place for a moment.It was of the utmost importance that the time for exploding the mineshould be well chosen. He dared not run the risk of allowing the Frenchto drive the heads of their tunnels past his own, for indeed they mightnot pass it, but come clean upon it, in which case they would eitherexplode it themselves, or more probably withdraw the charge. His objectwas to allow them to approach as near as seemed safe, and then to firethe train. After an anxious day he retired to rest, convinced that asharp conflict could no longer be much delayed.
At ten o'clock next morning, the 8th of February, he judged that theFrench miners could only be a few feet distant. Withdrawing all his menfrom the Casa Vallejo to the Casa Hontanon, next door, he waited tenselyfor a few minutes, then himself fired the train. There was a thunderousexplosion, the walls of the room in which he was seemed to rock, thencame the crash of falling beams, followed by a death-like silence. Themine had done its terrible work effectually; for the rest of the daythere was no further sound of the French.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Ebro the French were graduallypreparing for a grand assault. The part of the city along the riverbank had been hitherto little damaged, for it was protected by thetranspontine suburb of San Lazaro, and to some extent by a few gun-boatsmoored near the bridge. The key to the position was the Jesus Convent,a building of bricks, with a ditch on the French side of it. The Frenchbatteries had made large breaches in its masonry, but in order to carryit by storm it was first necessary for the enemy to trench their waytowards it by slow degrees, every step having to be taken under firefrom the walls. Their work was delayed for a time by a sudden rise ofthe river inundating their trenches and driving them back for severalhundred yards--a flood hailed with joy by the defenders, who regarded itas another miraculous interposition on the part of Our Lady of thePillar.
Their condition wa
s becoming pitiful in the extreme. All fresh meat andvegetables were exhausted; they had nothing now to subsist on but fishand salt meat. The few chickens that could be got each sold for a sumequivalent to an English pound. The French had seized all thewater-mills along the banks of the river, so that the corn, of which theSpaniards yet possessed large stores, could not be ground, and they wereforced to make a rough unwholesome bread of grain merely crushed orbruised. Fever, bred in the damp vaults in which most of the peoplelived, was carrying off hundreds every day; yet the emaciated survivorsscarcely murmured, and the faintest suggestion of surrender was stillsufficient to carry a man to the gibbet. Cheered by their braveuntiring priests, they hoped against hope that relief would come.
But the floods subsided, and there was no sign of the long-expectedsuccour. On the morning of February 8th, twenty-two French guns openedfire on the convent. Within a few hours the outer walls were battereddown; then Marshal Lannes in person ordered the place to be carried byassault. Five hundred men instantly sprang from the trenches. TheSpaniards in the convent, mingled regulars and monks, made whatresistance they could, but they were unnerved by the precedingcannonade, and before the furious rush of the French grenadiers theyfled and left the convent to its fate. Within the walls the Frenchfound hundreds of wounded and sick, and in the courtyard there were sometwo hundred corpses, men, women, and children, piled up awaiting burial.Even the French were sick at heart when they saw on these pale coldfaces the terrible signs of fasting and disease. They themselves hadsuffered in their trenches. Among them too men fell fast; and even intheir ranks there were heard murmurs against the long waiting of thiscruel siege.
But though they had gained possession of the convent, their capture ofthe whole suburb was to be delayed for yet a few days. News was broughtin to the French marshal, from his outlying positions, that a Spanisharmy was marching towards the city. The captain-general's brother,Francisco Palafox, had succeeded in raising a small force of 4000 men,and was now but twenty miles away. The attack could not be pressed inthis quarter until the exact strength of the new enemy was ascertained.Marshal Lannes himself, therefore, drew off with 12,000 men, and oncemore the hopes of the dwindling garrison within the walls flickered upinto the semblance of a flame.
Meanwhile Jack, in his little district, had become convinced that thedefence could not be maintained for many more days. But he wasdetermined to hold his own to the very end. After his explosion beyondthe Casa Vallejo there had been a prolonged silence on the French side,but in the evening renewed sounds of mining in two quarters showed thatthough two of the four French galleries had been injured, the other twowere still workable. It was only a matter of hours before the wall mustfall. All that Jack could do was to ensure that the house should be heldas long as possible after the explosion of the French mines, and thatthis should cause his men the minimum of loss. During the night of the8th he built a fresh barricade between Vallejo and Tobar, some yards inthe rear of the first one, leaving a means of ingress into thethreatened house. On the roof of Tobar he stationed men, just beforedawn, to give notice of any French movements in the ruins at the fartherend of the block. Meanwhile the garrison of Vallejo were withdrawnbehind the barricade, with orders to rush in and reoccupy the house assoon as the explosion had taken place.
At seven o'clock on the morning of the 9th a deep rumbling noise, as ofa miniature earthquake, shook the quarter. Volumes of pungent smokerolled along the lanes, and the crashing sounds proclaimed that theparty-wall of Vallejo had fallen in.
"Into the house!" shouted Jack.
The men burst into the building. Taking advantage of the cover affordedby heaps of shattered masonry, woodwork, and furniture, they stood firmto meet the attack of the French, who, as soon as the dust and smokebegan to clear, charged furiously up to the ruined wall. Their frontranks were mowed down by the withering fire of the Spaniards, but thegaps were instantly filled, and the undaunted enemy pressed on again.The volumes of smoke and the heaped wreckage of the house made itdifficult sometimes for the combatants to see one another. For themoment the advantage was with the Spaniards. Nothing could dislodgethem from behind their barricades of brickwork, furniture, even piles ofbooks. But the French were swarming in at the other end of the block ofbuildings, and some, mounting on heaps of debris, were able to fire overthe heads of the men in front of them into the Spanish position. Jacksaw that with the fall of the party-wall of Vallejo the remains of theroof and front wall of the house beyond had also come down. Profitingby this circumstance, he sent a number of men on to the roof of Tobar,whence they were able to enfilade the French marksmen. They wereassisted by a strong fire from the front barricade, where Antonio, nowthe leader of the guerrilleros, was doing yeoman service. Finding thatafter repeated charges no impression had been made on the Spanishdefences, the French drew back disheartened, and, unwilling to face therisk of meeting again such heavy losses, made no further serious attemptduring the morning to carry the position. The action degenerated into afitful exchange of musket-shots, whenever a Frenchman or a Spaniardincautiously exposed himself.
"Well done, hombres!" said Jack, who had gone from point to pointcheering them on, reinforcing weak spots, narrowly escaping the enemy'sbullets as he moved at times across the line of fire. He had been quickto mark instances of special bravery or skill, and the few words ofpraise he spoke nerved the ardent Spaniards to still more strenuousexertions.
In the afternoon, as he was resting in the Casa Alvarez, news wasbrought that the French had been seen clearing away parts of the debrisin the ruins at the farther end of the Vallejo block.
"What does that mean?" he exclaimed, starting up. "They will only exposethemselves to direct fire from the roofs and the barricade."
Hastening with Don Cristobal to the roof of the Casa Tobar, he soughtfor an explanation of the new movement. Suddenly it occurred to him: theFrench were about to bring the gun, which had been driven away from theangle of the street, to a position whence it would bear upon Vallejo,and the work they were doing was for the purpose of clearing awayanything that might intercept its fire.
"We can't hold Vallejo against a bombardment," he remarked. "Stay!Perhaps Don Casimir would lend us a gun from his ramparts. Things havebeen pretty quiet with him lately. Antonio, run off with twenty men andask Don Casimir to let you have an eight-pounder, with grape andround-shot. If we can get a gun to bear, Senor, the work the French aredoing will assist us as much as themselves."
"Can we mount the gun?" asked Don Cristobal, descending with Jack.
"We can but try. 'Where there's a will there's a way', as we say inEngland."
Twenty minutes later Antonio returned with his men, hauling theeight-pounder briskly along towards the barricade. It was easily takeninto the patio of the Casa Vallejo, but to move it thence into aposition facing the French would necessitate the breaking of the wall ofone of the ground-floor rooms.
It was approaching nightfall when, from his post of observation on theroof of Tobar, Jack saw that the French had completed their work. Hecould just perceive the muzzle of their gun, carefully blinded withbeams, protruding from a sort of screen in the ruins of the second housefrom Vallejo. He was confident that they would not begin theirbombardment until the following morning, and he hoped to use the hoursof darkness to place his own gun. Before darkness fell, with DonCristobal's help he took, from several points, careful observations ofthe position of the French gun, and on the stone floor of the roomopening on to the patio in Vallejo he drew chalk lines indicating whatappeared to be a suitable position for his eight-pounder.
As soon as it was dark he set two men to break a way with picks throughthe wall of the patio, at a spot where there was a window. The work wascarried out with the aid of dark lanterns, large pieces of cloth beinghung over every gap to conceal any glimmer of light from the French. Thegun was then hauled through the hole and laid by the chalk lines; it wasscreened with bags of earth, and then, after it had been loaded withball, a horse-
blanket was hung over the muzzle, which alone was in sightof the enemy.
"Now we can get some sleep, Senor," said Jack. "We've had a hard day'swork. I confess I'm longing for the morning, to see whether we can oncemore get in first. You have arranged the sentries for the night?"
"Yes. Nothing has been neglected."
"A special guard for the gun?"
"Antonio and two of his guerrilleros will take turns through the night."
"We haven't any better men. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Comealong."
There was but a faint glimmer of light beyond the Ebro when Jack againtook his place beside the gun.
"I'm not a gunner," he remarked to Don Cristobal, "but I fancy I canmanage to lay and fire it myself; it's point-blank range, you see; I canhardly miss. Now, hombres," he said, turning to the eight men with him,"everything depends on our shooting first, so keep as mum as door-mats."
Waiting till the increasing light showed him clearly the muzzle of theenemy's gun, he carefully pointed his own piece. He aimed at a beamcovering the gun at a point which, as nearly as he could judge,corresponded with the trunnion. Don Cristobal watched him anxiously ashe lit the match. What would be the result of the shot? One moment ofsuspense, then Jack applied the match; there was a flash and a roar,followed immediately by the crashing of timber.
It was impossible to see the effect of the shot through the cloud ofsmoke that hung between the buildings; but, whatever it was, Jack knewthat it would awake the enemy to feverish activity. Running his piecein, he had it rapidly sponged and then reloaded with grape. While thiswas being done, he sent orders to the garrison to open fire on theFrench position, to which there would certainly be a rush. As soon asthe smoke cleared he saw that the French gun had also been run in.Before it could be loaded, however, Jack applied his second match; hiscanister of grape searched every square foot of the area around theFrench gun, and the men serving it were annihilated. Before anothercomplement of gunners could be brought up, Jack had his piece cleanedand charged again, this time with round-shot. He saw now that the firstshot had broken and splintered the beam; the third shivered it tofragments. A great cheer arose from the garrison when they saw thedamage already done. A second charge of grape, together with sharpmusketry-fire from every point occupied by the Spaniards, scattered theFrench reinforcements who were now attempting frantically to withdrawthe gun out of range. Again Jack loaded with shot, and a fierce shout ofexultation broke from the Spaniards on the roof-tops as they saw theenemy's gun completely dismounted, and the remnant of the French fly inall haste to the rear.
This spirited defence had the effect of keeping the French quiet in thatquarter for the rest of the day. Jack maintained his vigilanceunrelaxed, but there was no movement from the enemy's direction eitherabove or below ground.
"Another day saved!" said Jack to Don Casimir, who, having heard of whathad happened, had come to congratulate him on his successfulmanipulation of the gun.
"Yes, one more day. But how long can we still hold out?" replied DonCasimir. "Surely, Senor Lumsden, you are not among the credulous peoplewho think that we shall save the city?"
"Since you ask me plainly, Don Casimir, I am not. But what does thatmatter? We have to hold our quarters, and I confess that I sha'n't besatisfied unless I can say, when the end comes, that here at all eventswe are still unbeaten.--Do look at that odd little gipsy boy of mine.He is a strange child. When the fighting is going on he is never to befound; he hasn't any courage of that sort; but he always turns up whenit is over, and looks as proud as though he had fought with the best.What has the brat got now?"
Pepito approached jauntily, twirling a small silver buckle round on hisfinger.
"Well, what is the mischief now?" asked Jack with a smile.
"That is for Senor to say," replied Pepito gravely.
"You found that buckle, I suppose. Well, it looks a very good silverbuckle; what is there to explain?"
"I found it in the tall house. It was under the dead man. I saw itwhen they took him away."
"Yes. What then?"
Pepito put his hand into his pocket and produced a second buckle, theexact fellow of the first.
"Now I have two," he said.
"So I see. One isn't much use without the other. I suppose you willwant them sewn on your shoes now. You found that too, eh?"
"No, I cut it off. Senor thinks they are the buckles a poor Busno wouldwear?"
"Well, no; they are a little unusual for a guerrillero, certainly. Buthe may have been a bandit first."
"No, no. They were not his. Senor, listen as I tell. I find in theroom one buckle; I think I know it. I put it in my pocket. I go out atonce into the streets to look. What do I see? I see a man walk; oneshoe has a buckle, the other shoe has not. I open my eyes wide; I sayto myself: 'Ho! ho! That is what I thought!' But I was not sure. Iwait. A time comes. I see the one-buckle Senor go into the Cafe Arcos.I follow; big Jorge Arcos knows me now. I keep much in the dark; SenorOne-buckle must not see me. But I see him; I see his foot; I am underthe table. I put buckle one next to buckle two; they are brothers. Itake my knife and cut off buckle two. It is Senor No-buckle now! Senorknows?"
Jack had been impressed, not so much by the gipsy's story as by thesolemnity of his manner of telling it.
"You have something more to tell me. What is it?"
"Senor One-buckle, Senor No-buckle--who is it? One-buckle, I find itunder the dead man in the tall house; two-buckle, I cut it from the shoeof--of the master of Senor One-eye."
"Senor Priego?"
"Si, Senor!"
Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War Page 28