By now a surging crowd had arrived outside the church, and once more the scene of a little time before was repeated. Muskets and ancient firearms were discharged from every point, and in the most haphazard fashion. Indeed it may be said that in this respect the attackers were as dangerous to one another as to the defenders of the church. A hundred frenzied creatures hurled themselves into the doorway, and for a while it looked as if they would sweep all before them. But those deadly spears, harmless though they looked on a casual inspection, did the work expected of them. Men were tossed back with jagged wounds in the chest. Others were felled with blows over the head, while in many instances the attackers were pushed away by sheer strength. Then, at a signal from Tom, four of the defenders joined Andrews and the sentry, each armed with sabres, and fell furiously upon the mob. Shrieks filled the air; the maddened peasants dropped their weapons and endeavoured to grapple with the soldiers. They bit at the men and fought like fiends. Then some turned, pressing away from the door, but only to be thrust forward again by the weight of those behind them. It was a startled cry from someone in the background which at length caused the mob to retire; a sudden panic seemed to seize them and in a little while they were racing pell mell from the building.
"Now go back to your corners and sleep," said Tom. "We have taught them another lesson, and next time they will not be quite so bold. Let us have a look at these fellows."
He took the torch and leaned over the two men who had been cut down by Andrews and the trooper. They were powerful fellows, armed with billhooks and had their boots thickly wrapped with straw so as to deaden the sound of their coming.
"Put them outside," he ordered, "and to-morrow, at the first streak of dawn, we will send out a party to remove the other bodies. We may be cooped up here for a week, and things would then become unpleasant. That reminds me; there's the question of food and water. Well, that must settle itself; we'll wait for morning."
There was nothing else to be done; therefore, having posted his sentries, and cautioned them to be very watchful, Tom retired to the corner in which he had left Mr. Riley and Jack.
"A nice little skirmish, Tom," said the former. "By the time you join the army you'll have become a veteran. These little conflicts are all good practice, for if I am not mistaken the peasants will make tremendous efforts when the day comes. But sit down. I'm eager to tell my tale before another disturbance comes. Where was I? Oh, I remember! We were talking of the troops in the Peninsula. You understand that Napoleon's armies were massed at this time in both Portugal and Spain. Well, Wellington—then Sir Arthur Wellesley—sailed from Cork in July, 1808, with some ten thousand men, and landed near Oporto. An experienced general such as he was, one, too, fresh from conquests in India, was not likely to let the grass grow beneath his feet, and almost at once he had a nice little skirmish with the French at Brilos and at Rolica, causing Laborde, their commander, to withdraw.
"He would have pushed on at once without a doubt, but information now reached him that General Anstruther had landed at Peniche, and, it being important to join hands with him, he left Laborde for the moment and marched to meet the new arrivals. Almost at once General Sir Harry Burrard appeared upon the scene, with orders from the Home authorities to take the chief command; for these authorities were for ever changing their minds. You observe that they send Wellesley to the Peninsula, a general with a great and recent reputation, and replace him within a few days by a second general, who, however skilled, had certainly not the experience of the brilliant officer first selected. At this time the British force was encamped at Vimeiro, and a fierce engagement followed, forced upon our troops by the French, and arising at that point where Wellesley's own particular command was located. He beat the French handsomely, after a fierce engagement in which both sides fought most gallantly, and having done so, and received the congratulations of Sir Harry Burrard, Wellesley promptly found himself the third in command instead of the second; for Sir Hugh Dalrymple now arrived to take command of the invading force, thus displaying a further change of policy on the part of the vacillating Ministry then in charge of our affairs.
"And now we must switch off from the forces engaged in and about Oporto," said Mr. Riley, hitching himself a little higher in his corner and crossing his legs for greater comfort. "We come to the doings of Sir John Moore, a commander who won the esteem of Napoleon himself, and whose memory will be ever honoured amongst the French. And just let me digress for a moment. It is perhaps a most suitable opportunity, too, for bringing the matter forward, seeing that we are here prisoners in a sense of the French, and yet, if I make no mistake, in command of them."
He smiled quizzingly at Tom, and laughed aloud when the latter coloured.