Part 23

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.

"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!"

Jack turned on his heel, and, wondering what conceivable motive Pablo Quintanar could have for doing him a hurt, set off for the Castle Aljafferia.

*CHAPTER XXIV*

*"A bon Chat, bon Rat"*

Under a Cloud--The Door--Padre Consolacion--A Daughter of Spain--The House in the Lane--An Unexpected Visitor--A Gambit--In the Shadow--The Worm Turns--A Blue Paper--The Simple Way

As he made his way through the throng of people filling the corridors and halls of the palace, Jack could not but observe that the looks he met were rather of suspicion than friendliness. He was known by sight to many of the habitues of the castle. Tio Jorge had never tired of praising his exploits and acclaiming him as a staunch friend of Spain; and yet many now scowled on him, whispered to each other as he passed; one or two even fingered their knives.

Surprised at this change of attitude, he was still more surprised to find it reflected in the bearing of Palafox and Don Basilio and other members of the Junta who were present when he made his report. Palafox listened to him coldly, spoke a few words of the faintest praise, and dismissed him without a sign of real approval or encouragement.

Tio Jorge met him as he was re-entering the town by the Porta Portillo, and Jack felt a sense of relief when he saw that the big peasant's greeting was cordial as ever. After an exchange of news Tio Jorge, who had scanned his face anxiously, said bluntly:

"I am a plain man, Senor. You will answer me a plain question."

"Certainly, anything in reason," said Jack in surprise.

"They're saying--I could not believe it--but they are all saying that you wish to surrender; at least, that you do not think we can hold out. Now, whatever we may think, we do not talk of these things; it is not good for the people to hear such things. If any man says them, he does not live to say them twice. Tell me plainly, Senor, have you spoken of surrender?"

"My good friend," said Jack with a smile, "when you yourself hear an Englishman talk of surrender, then you may believe it; till then--"

"Then it is false?" asked Tio Jorge.

"Absolutely."

"I knew it. And that proves," added Tio Jorge after a moment, "what I thought from the first: you have an enemy in Saragossa, Senor."

And then he explained. The despatch brought by Don Miguel Priego had been in several points so different from, so much less discouraging than, that previously brought by Jack, that the Saragossans' first flush of enthusiasm for the English had soon disappeared. The undoubted retreat of Sir John Moore, and the subsequent departure of his army from the shores of Spain, were twisted to mean a desertion of the Spanish cause. There was at first no personal feeling against Jack, though his country was regarded with bitterness, but it had lately been rumoured, on the authority of Don Miguel's servant, that he had been overheard, in the Cafe Arcos, expressing a despondent view of the chances of holding the city, and hinting that it would be wise to make terms with the French. Only the energetic and successful work Jack had been doing in the Santa Engracia district, and the strong support of Tio Jorge himself, had given pause to those who wished to treat him as all who counselled surrender were treated--to gibbet him in the Coso.