As she spoke Marcos rose and quitted the room after glancing at his watch. Juanita followed him.
"Marcos," she said, in the hall, having closed the dining-room door behind her. "Will you tell me what time it will begin?"
"Zeneta is timed to retreat across the bridge at three o'clock. The enemy will, it is hoped, follow him."
"And where will you be?"
"I shall be with Pacheco and his staff on the hill behind Pedro's mill. You will see a little flag wherever Pacheco is."
Cousin Peligros' delicate hearing had not been deceived. The firing was now close at hand. The valley takes a turn to the left below the ridge and upon the hillside above this corner the white irregular line of smoke now became visible.
In a few minutes the dark mass of Zeneta's men appeared on the road at the corner. He was before his time. The men were running. They raised the dust like a troop of sheep and moved in a halo of it. Every hundred yards they stopped and fired a volley. They were acting with perfect regularity and from a distance looked like toy soldiers. They were retreating in good order and the sound of their volleys came at regular intervals. On the bridge they halted. They were going to make a stand here, as would seem natural. Had they had artillery they could have effectually held this strong and narrow place.
It now became apparent that they were a woefully small detachment. They could not spare men to take up positions on the rocky hillside behind them.
There was a pause. The Carlists were waiting for their skirmishers to come in from heights above the road.
Sarrion and Juanita stood at the edge of the terrace. Sarrion was watching with a quick and comprehensive glance.