The two lads watched him, panting the while with excitement, listening as they watched to the fierce burst of firing that was now being sustained.
The King gave way at once to the smuggler’s orders, planting himself with his followers ready for an anticipated assault; and, apparently satisfied, the smuggler waved the hand that grasped his knife and ran forward again with the two young Englishmen.
This time it was the pistol that he waved to them as if bidding them follow, and he ran on some forty or fifty yards to where the entrance widened out and another heap of mine-rubbish offered itself upon the other side as a rough earthwork for defence, and where the two lads could find a temporary parapet which commanded the entry for nearly a hundred yards.
Here he bade the two lads kneel where, perfectly safe themselves, they could do something to protect their Spanish friends behind on their left.
“Do your best,” he said hoarsely. “They are driving my men back fast; but if you can keep up a steady fire, little as it will be, it will act as a surprise and maybe check their advance. But take care and mind not to injure any of my men.”
He said no more, but ran forward again along the still unoccupied way, till a curve of the great rift hid him from their sight.
“What did he say?” whispered Punch excitedly, as Pen now looked round and diagonally across the way to the great chamber, and could see the other rough stonework, above which appeared a little line of swords.
“Said we were to be careful not to hurt him and his friends if they were beaten back.”
“No fear,” said Punch; “we can tell them by their red handkerchiefs round their heads and their little footy guns. We’ve got nothing to do, then, yet.”
“For a while, Punch; but they are coming on fast. Hark at them!” For the firing grew louder and louder, and was evidently coming nearer.