Hugo shot down it like an arrow, but hardly had he touched the earth, when Yakoob shouted from above, with all his might—
“Hither, hither, true believers! here is a Christian dog escaping!”
In fact, this double-dyed traitor, who really was a follower of Don Alvar, and had been well paid by him and Alured to aid Hugo’s escape, had all along intended to earn a twofold reward by helping him up to a certain point and then betraying him.
Even Alured and his veteran helper were paralyzed for a moment by this new and fearful dilemma; but Hugo was as prompt as ever. Clutching his pole by the end, he darted it upward, and just caught with his hook the traitor’s skirt as it hung over the parapet. The sudden tug flung Yakoob headlong into the muddy ditch, and Hugo, in turn, shouted lustily—
“Help, brothers, or the infidel will escape!”
“Where is he?” cried several Moorish soldiers, rushing up.
“Yonder he lies,” said Hugo, pointing to the half-seen form of the stunned Yakoob, now almost buried in the mud. “I cannot drag him forth unaided. Seize and hold him fast!”
“We will!” cried they; and, leaping into the ditch, they pounced upon the wrong man, and dragged him off, he being so smeared with mud as to defy recognition.
Just then Alured, now his own cool and daring self again, fired the pile of forage beside him, which, dry as tinder, at once sent up a broad jet of flame far into the air.
“Fire!” he roared, as the rising wind whirled a shower of fiery flakes against the towers above. “Help, brothers! The castle burns!”