“They are beating in there,” said Tío Garces, and in a second the French whom we had left in the house next us had passed to this one, where they met comrades.
“Cuerno! Recuerno! Let us get out of this! The whole creation’s down below there.”
We passed on into another garret, and found our way to a ladder leading down to a large interior room, from whose doorway came the lively sound of voices, chiefly those of women. The noise of the fight seemed much further off, and we decided it must be at some distance. So we dropped down the ladder and found ourselves in a large room filled with old men, women, and children who had all sought refuge here. Many, lying upon rude mattresses, showed in their faces traces of the terrible epidemic, and one lifeless body lay on the floor, breath evidently having left it but a few moments before. Some were wounded, suffering cruelly and groaning unrestrainedly; two or three old women were weeping and praying. Occasionally voices were heard begging, “Water, water!” From where we entered, I saw Candiola at the end of the room, carefully depositing in a corner a quantity of clothes and kitchen utensils and crockery. With an angry gesture he drove away the curious children who wished to look over and handle the poor stuff. Anxious, eager only to heap together and guard his treasures without losing a fragment, he was saying—
“I have already lost two cups. And I have no doubt whatever as to what has become of them. Some one of these people has taken them. There is no security anywhere; there are no authorities to guarantee to a citizen the possession of his property. Out of here, you unmannerly boys! Oh, we are hard pushed! Cursed be the bombs and the one who invented them! Soldiers, you have come in good time. Can you not have two sentinels placed here for me to guard these treasures which I have been able to save only with great trouble?”
My comrades laughed at such pretension, as may readily be believed. We were just about to go, when I saw Mariquilla. The poor girl was sadly changed from lack of sleep, much weeping, and the constant alarms. But the trouble of her brow, and that which looked forth from her eyes, only added to the sweetness of expression of her beautiful face. She saw me, and immediately came eagerly up to me, showing that she wished to speak with me.
“And Augustine?” I asked her.
“He is down there,” she replied in tremulous tones. “They are fighting below. We who took refuge in this house have been apportioned to different rooms. My father came this morning with Doña Guedita. Augustine brought us something to eat, and put us in a room where there was a mattress. Suddenly we heard blows on the partition walls. The French were coming. The troops entered, and made us leave, carrying the sick and wounded to an upper room. They shut us all in, and then the walls were broken through. The French met the Spaniards then, and began real fighting. Yes, Augustine is below.”
She was saying this when Manuela Sancho came, carrying two pitchers of water for the wounded. The poor wretches threw themselves from their beds, disputing even to blows over the water.
“No pushing, no scrambling, señors!” said Manuela, laughing. “There is water enough for all. Our side is winning. It has cost a little labor to drive the French from the alcove, and now they are disputing half of the hall, having gained one half of it. They do not wish to leave us a kitchen or a staircase. The whole place is filled with the dead.”
Mariquilla turned pale with the horror of it.
“I am thirsty,” she said to me.
I immediately tried to get some water for her from Manuela; but as the last glass she had was in use, quenching soldiers’ thirst, as she went from mouth to mouth with it, I took, in order to lose no time, one of the cups which Candiola had in his pile.
“Eh, you meddler,” he said, shaking his fist at me, “leave that cup here.”
“I am getting it to give water to the señorita,” I answered indignantly. “Are these things so valuable, Señor Candiola?”
The miser did not reply, but did not oppose my giving his daughter a drink. After her thirst was quenched, a wounded soldier reached out his hands eagerly for the cup, and, lo! it began to go the rounds also, passing from mouth to mouth. When I went to wait upon my comrades, Don Jeronimo followed me with his eyes, and watched with bad grace the forced loan that was so slow in returning to his hands.
Manuela Sancho was right in saying that our side was winning. The French, dislodged from the main floor of the house, had retired to the one below, where they continued their defence. When I descended, all the interest of the battle was centred in the kitchen, disputed with much bloodshed, but the rest of the house was in our power. Many bodies of French and Spanish covered the gory floor. Some soldiers and patriots, furious at not being able to conquer that dismal kitchen, whence such a fire was pouring, hurled themselves forward into it, defending themselves with their bayonets; and although a goodly number of them perished, their courageous act decided the matter, for behind them others could come, and then all that the room could hold.
The Imperial soldiers, panic-stricken with this violent assault, looked quickly for
