Under Wellington's Command: A Tale of the Peninsular War

by G. A. Henty

"I shall keep them from firing the pile as long as I can. The count has two double-barrelled guns. I don't want to use them, if I can help it; but they shall not get in here. Do you stop, and help next door. There can be no fighting here yet for, if they do burn the door, it will be a long time before they can get in."

The native officers started at once. They were of opinion that they would soon be able to bring in a good many of their men; for the Portuguese are a sober race, and few would have got intoxicated. Most of the men would soon find that there was not much booty to be obtained, and that even what they got would probably be snatched from them by the English soldiers; and would consequently be glad to return to their duty again.

An officer took his place at the back door, in readiness to remove the bars; another went up with Terence to the first floor; and the remainder stopped in the hall, with six of the menservants.

Terence went upstairs and looked down into the street. There was a lot of furniture, with bundles of faggots and straw, piled there.

"Now," he said to the officer, "empty these pails at once; the servants will soon bring some more up. I will stand here with these guns, and fire at any one who interferes with you. Just come out into the balcony, empty your pails over, and go back at once. You need scarcely show yourself, and there is not much chance of your being hit by those drunken rascals."

Yells and shouts of rage were heard below, as the water was thrown over. As fast as the pails were emptied, the servants carried them off and refilled them. At last, two soldiers appeared from a house opposite, with blazing torches.

The guns had been loaded by the count with small shot, as Terence was anxious not to take life. As soon as the two men appeared, he raised the fowling piece to his shoulder and fired both barrels, in quick succession. With a yell of pain, the soldiers dropped their torches. One fell to the ground, the other clapped his hands to his face and ran down the street in an agony, as if half mad. Half a dozen muskets were discharged, but Terence had stepped back the moment he had fired, and handed the gun to the count, who was standing behind him, to recharge.

Two other soldiers picked up the torches, but dropped them as Terence again fired. Another man snatched up one of them, and flung it across the street. It fell upon some straw that had been thoroughly soaked by the water, and burned out there harmlessly.

It was not long before the servants began to arrive with the full buckets and, when these also had been emptied, Terence, glancing over, had little fear that the pile could now be lighted. The pails were sent down again, and he waited for the next move.

The fighting had ceased at the other door. The soldiers having drawn back from the barricade, to see the effect of the fire. Ryan ran across the plank and rejoined Terence.