The minutes which passed after that were somewhat strenuous. Every exit from the house was guarded, and when a man dropped from one of the windows, and refused to halt at the command of one of Jack's parties, there came the snap of a musket, followed by a fusillade, for the first shot had missed the mark. A piercing shriek echoed through the yard, and when Tom craned his neck out of the window there was one of the rascals stretched still and stark on his face.
By now the irregulars were pouring into the house, their bayonets fixed in readiness for trouble. They found the bulk of the conspirators crouching in their supper room amid the litter of bottles and glasses, while in their centre, looking still more woeful and downcast, was the fat man who had been injured. He was carried below after being searched, while the rest were mustered together, thoroughly searched, and then marched into the yard, where they were put under a guard. Then began a complete and thorough investigation of the premises. Documents and papers were dragged from hiding places, and as the night wore on towards early morning Tom was able, with the help of his friends, to unravel the whole mystery.
"The same handwriting," he repeated on many an occasion, turning over some new document. "Plans of Badajoz as regarrisoned and defended by the British. Ditto of Ciudad Rodrigo, showing that these men have had agents in both places. Details here of Wellington's forces, with the exact number of guns, their calibre, &c."
"And here the same of the French," sang out Alfonso, now an interested spectator. "Double-dealing individuals, evidently."
"I'll eat my hat if that writing isn't the same as that found in the house where your father and uncle were living," suddenly interrupted Jack.
"Right—I've seen that all along. It goes to prove that the ringleader all through who managed this gang also abducted those two. Who was he?"
"That is a question beyond me," declared Septimus, leaning over his son's shoulder. "We never saw a leader. He was never referred to in our presence. We were suddenly set upon and bound and gagged. That same night we began the journey to Badajoz. Then came the siege, the assault, and our flight; that is to say, we were hustled away from the fortress. And here you are, Tom. 'Pon my word, how you do turn up!"
"Like the usual bad penny," grinned Jack, whereat Tom made a slash at him with his own sword, which the young adjutant had placed upon the rickety table.
"But," he said, "how does it happen that you fellows yourselves turned up just in the nick of time? Things were getting decidedly warm for us at the top of those stairs."
"Warm!—Boiling!" gasped Septimus, mopping his forehead at the thought, while Don Juan took off his spectacles and rubbed them.