Jack was on the point of replying when loud vociferations came through the door from the large room. "Palafox! Where is Palafox? The captain-general! Come! Help! Tio Jorge! Palafox!" The cries grew louder and louder; heavy fists, muskets, pikes battered on the door; Don Basilio's powerful voice was heard endeavouring to quell the tumult. Gathering himself together, and bravely repressing the signs of weakness he had previously shown, Palafox walked to the door, opened it, and stood in the doorway.
"What is it, my children?" he said.
The noise was hushed; the crowd turned as one man and seemed to be looking for someone. Then a passage opened up among them, and a huge brawny figure, with capless, dishevelled head, torn clothes, and face and hands black with the smoke of battle, elbowed his way through till he came to the general.
"Viva Arcos! Viva el valiente Arcos!" cried several in the throng.
"Silencio!" in the stern, authoritative tone of Don Basilio.
"Señor Capitan," said the big man, "the French are making towards the Coso! The Casa Ximenez block is in their hands. They are burning, butchering; they are beating down our men at the barricades! I come for the reserve, Señor; for Tio Jorge and Tio Marin, and all their men! At once, Señor; send them at once; for if time is lost, the accursed foe will swarm into the centre of the town, and all is lost."
Before Palafox could say a word, the priest Santiago Sass seized a musket, and, raising his piercing voice, cried:
"Follow me! follow me! In the name of God and Our Lady of the Pillar! To the convent of San Agustin! Tio Jorge, Tio Marin, Jorge Arcos, follow me!"
He rushed out into the corridor, and the mob, in a frenzy of enthusiasm, poured pell-mell after him, carrying their heroes with them. The room was left almost empty. Don Basilio turned to Palafox and said quietly:
"They will recover any ground that is lost. Spare yourself, my son José."