The few seconds occupied by the tussle about the first gun had given the gunners at the other two time to form up. At the same time the French behind Jack had recovered from their surprise and were swarming upon his track. Would he have time to complete his work? A few bullets pattered on the jagged remnants of walls still standing; but the French were too much afraid of hitting their own men to fire volleys, and those who did shoot were too flustered to take good aim. Amid a din of shouting, Jack dashed into the ruins on the far side of the street. Some two-score men were there drawn up ready to receive him. Fortunately they were on the French side of the epaulement that had been thrown across the ruins. Had they occupied the other side they could have held their assailants at bay long enough for the reserves to come up from the direction of Santa Engracia and take them in the rear.
In a moment the two bands met. The French were outnumbered, but for a few seconds they held their own around the guns. Then the Spaniards closed about them, and with their backs to the epaulement the valiant gunners fell, to the last man.
The first gun was quickly spiked. At the other a gallant pair of Frenchmen caused a momentary delay by their desperate defence. But they were in turn overpowered, and fell covered with wounds. A nail was driven home, and the hazardous exploit was complete.
But the peril was only just beginning. The sortie had been so sudden and impetuous that even if the French had been thrice as numerous the chances were on the side of the assailants. But they had now had time to rally. Sixty yards of ruins lay between the breathless Spaniards and the Casa Vallejo, which was strongly held by the French. Jack hoped that the diversion from the Casa Alvarez would keep these sufficiently employed; it was a race between him and the French who were now coming up from the rear of their position. For an instant he thought of retaining a few of his men and attempting to check the pursuit while the remainder ran on and stormed the French in Vallejo. But he saw in a flash that this exposed him to the danger of being headed off by the enemy, who would make greater speed along the comparatively clear street than he could make through the ruins. Without a moment's hesitation he bade his men run for their lives. That he was right was proved at once. Stalwart Poles and little voltigeurs were swarming along the roadway; Jack could see them through the gaps in the ruined walls, and hear them as they dashed along out of sight parallel with his own men. Would they outrun him? Would they succeed in joining hands with their countrymen in Vallejo, and meet him in such force that his own gallant band, now diminished by half, would fall a helpless prey to them?
There broke out at this instant, ahead of him, a pandemonium of cries, which seemed too great to proceed even from the mingled horde of French and Spanish in Vallejo. The foremost of his men were now at grips there with the enemy. He dashed into the house, and found a desperate combat in progress there, but was surprised to see no Frenchmen upon his flank. He had expected to find those who had rushed along the road now pouring into the house through the gap in the walls. But the French in the house were engaged on two sides; on one side by Jack's own party, on the other by the second sortie-party, under Antonio's command. That was not all. Amid the din Jack heard the stentorian voice of Jorge Arcos shouting words of encouragement to his men and of obloquy to the French; immediately afterwards the bellow of Tio Jorge echoed through the ruins. Jack understood now what had so suddenly checked the French in the street. How the great mob-leaders had come upon the scene he knew not; it was sufficient that they had come in the nick of time. They had evidently manned the nearest barricade, and, battered as that had been, it was good enough yet to afford a strong defence. With a sense of relief Jack threw himself into the midst of the fray; in a few moments the French in Vallejo were accounted for. Emerging into the street, Jack saw his bulky friend chasing the French back towards the spiked gun. The sudden sally over the barricade, when they least expected it, and when their ranks were in the disorder of pursuit, had been too much for the enemy. They gave way before Tio Jorge's impetuous rush; then, as Jack, with a feeling of elation that once more the enemy were foiled, arrived at the barricade, he heard Jorge Arcos shout to his men to retire, and they came pelting back, followed by a few wild shots from the discomfited French.
"Viva la España! Viva Saragossa! Viva el Señor Ingles! Viva Tio Jorge!"
The air rang with the jubilant shouts of the Spaniards, panting, dishevelled, many of them utterly exhausted. A strange calm succeeded the turmoil. Scarcely a live Frenchman was now to be seen; the ground was strewn with dead, and with wounded whom Jack did not dare to remove. He knew that the lull could only be temporary; the French would undoubtedly send for reinforcements. After their successive checks they would not be content until they could bring absolutely crushing force to bear upon the obstinate defenders. The crisis was still to come, and Jack, after warmly congratulating Tio Jorge and Jorge Arcos, as well as Antonio, on the brilliant success they had done so much to bring about, returned to the Casa Alvarez to concert means of meeting the most formidable attack of all.
Before he reached the house he saw a girl flying towards him, her mantilla streaming behind.
"Oh, Jack, Jack," she cried, "I thought you would be killed!"
"Juanita!" he exclaimed. "But you should not be here. It is no place for you. You ought not to have run into danger. Come back with me at once."