"Yes, yes, but why are they carrying you on a march like this?"
"My brother is the only man who knows where the Spanish gold was hidden when our war was ended—I mean, the gold that came up with guns and ammunition. Aguinaldo is looking for the hiding place. My father, a high officer in the Spanish Army, died of the fever last winter. We were stolen from our house in Manila by Aguinaldo's men, and have been going from place to place ever since. We have not told of the hiding place. The Americans do not need gold, no?" The boy laughed sarcastically.
"How many men has Aguinaldo?"
"Three hundred or more. I would advise you to look out for Pilar. He, too, may come at any moment."
Scarcely had the words left his mouth when a storm of yells came from outside the convent; and immediately the boy rushed to his brother's side.
"Great Caesar, there's a thousand of them!" cried Rogers.
Instantly every man made for the position assigned to him. The gun was in readiness. Outside, the Mausers rattled, bullets coming from all quarters and thumping sharply against the opposite walls with a patter that warned the Americans against standing erect.
Occasionally, a scout would peep from a window and take a shot into the darkness, but these ventures were few. All lights were extinguished; the men fired at the spots from which burst the flames of rifles, then dropped suddenly. After a while the firing of the Filipinos dwindled into a shot now and them.
"Keep low! They don't dare risk a charge! Be ready to defend the door!" Captain Groce commanded.
The night wore on, and, with the cessation of hostilities, confidence increased. Reinforcements were not far off, and it did not seem possible that the sounds of battle could not be heard. The men, worn out by the exciting events of the day, were generally silent; Sergeant Connell, however, was an exception.