Into the Abyss

There were loud shouts from below.

"I am old, Señor. The Frenchmen in the street have seen us now; they will shoot; it matters little if I die." "No more. You must go. The ladies require you."

From the parapet opposite Juanita was looking at them. Her cheeks were very pale.

"Come, Francisco," she said in a tone of authority that brooked no denial.

The man hesitated no longer. He mounted the bridge, and walked with slow, firm step towards his mistress. An upward shower of shots pelted all around him. One struck him in the leg; he stumbled, nearly wrenching the planks from Jack's grasp, and Juanita uttered a cry as the poor man fell headlong into the street.

Jack saw that there was no time to be lost. A few dexterous shots from below might destroy the bridge. He must run the gauntlet. He mounted at his end. Αι the same moment Juanita, with great presence of mind, seized the other end, and held it firmly against the parapet. Three bounds, amid flying shots, and Jack reached the parapet in safety. Then, catching up the planks, he hurled them down upon the crowd.

There was

a

"You are not hurt, Señorita?" he said. "Poor Francisco!" was her reply. tremor in her voice, not from fear, as her next words showed. "I am ready, Señor; tell me what we are to do now."

There was a trap-door a yard away, opening inwards. Jack tried this with his foot; it was bolted, but the bolt rattled, and could evidently be forced with little exertion. Without hesitating he sprang heavily on to the wood; it gave and fell in with a crash. Jack's body had almost disappeared into the opening, when as he fell he caught the ledge with both hands, and though the sudden stoppage gave his muscles a severe wrench, he managed to maintain his grip, and hung on with legs dangling.

"Señorita," he said, come and look down and tell me what the drop is. I cannot see, myself."

Juanita went down on hands and knees, and peered into the darkness. For a moment her eyes could discern nothing; then, as they became accustomed to the obscurity, she said that the trap-door opened into an attic

A Deserted House

room, and that the floor was not far below. Jack instantly let go, and dropped. The distance was but ten feet. Regaining an erect posture, he found, after a little groping, a short ladder in a corner of the attic. He placed this in the opening, and went up into the light again. It was the work of only a few minutes to carry the old lady down the ladder. Juanita followed, and instantly busied herself with her half-fainting aunt.

"Wait here, Señorita," said Jack, "while I go down into the house and see if the way is open for escape."

The front

The attic door was not locked. Jack went out, down the stairs, through the house from top to bottom, and found every room empty, every window barricaded, and the outer doors locked. Unlike the occupants of the other houses on this side of the street, the inhabitants of this had clearly not stayed to defend it. door was bolted on the inside; at the door of a yard at the back the bolts were drawn, showing that escape had been made that way. Jack pulled at the door; the lock held firmly; it was impossible to force it; the only means of exit was over the wall. Hastening upstairs again, he explained the position to Juanita, who looked at him with the same quiet self-possession.

"Do you know any house in the centre of the city, Señorita,' asked Jack, "where you can take refuge? Your own house is now, without doubt, in the hands of the French.'

"Yes, Señor, we have friends in the Calle del Coso with whom we can stay."

"Then, if you will allow me I will escort you thither. I do not know the town very well, but I know the Calle del Coso."

"Yes, we will go. But how can we take my aunt, Señor?" asked the girl. Helpless as she was half an hour ago, she is prostrate now. You could not carry her all the way."

"I think I know of a plan. The first thing is to take her downstairs, and I am strong enough for that."

In a few minutes all three were at the yard door. Jack returned to the attic for the ladder, and having placed that against the wall, he carefully carried the old lady to the top, where he sat with her until Juanita had

Through the Streets

also mounted, drawn up the ladder, and let it down on the other side. They were now in a narrow lane, in which nobody was to be seen, though they knew by the shouts and the gunshots that fighting was going on at no great distance. Leaving the old lady in Juanita's charge, Jack went back into the house, and soon returned with a large chair and two short props he had found in the patio. Placing the old lady in the chair, he passed the props through the legs on each side.

"If you will hold them at the back, Señorita," he said, "I will take them in front, and then we shall be able to carry the Señora between us.

Thus burdened, they walked slowly down the lane, turned to the right, and found themselves in a street filled with soldiers and citizens, among whom were many women and priests. Almost all, even the priests, were armed, and many were hastening in the direction of the Augustine convent, where the French, after a desperate struggle, had just succeeded in forcing an entrance to the town. Barricades had been erected at various parts of the street. No one showed any surprise at the sight of an old lady carried on a chair. Strange incidents of the siege were happening every day. Every hour some new family was obliged to quit its dwelling and seek safety in flight. Unnoticed and unmolested, Jack and his companions in a few minutes reached the house in the Calle del Coso to which Juanita had referred. They were admitted immediately to the patio. There Juanita found her friends eating a meal the frugality of which spoke only too plainly of the straits to which the city was now reduced. The exhausted condition of the old lady demanded instant attention, and while the group of friends gathered about her solicitously, Jack took a hurried farewell of her niece.

"Now that you are in safety, Señorita, I can leave you and go to fulfil an errand I have. I trust the Señora will soon recover from her weakness and terror, and that you will not suffer from the strain of this frightful morning." "Señor, you have the heart-felt thanks of my aunt and myself. But for your timely help—I dare not think of it. And poor Francisco! To think of him dead, killed by those horrible French! . . . We can never thank you enough."