"Get off your horse and put down your pistol then."
It was a peremptory order, which Jack at any other moment might have resented; but there was no time to spare, and he decided immediately to risk compliance. The speaker then emerged from behind his rock, and stood revealed in the rough yet gaudy costume of a guerrillero.
"Hombre, take me to your captain," said Jack, stepping towards him. "I must speak with him instantly."
The man pointed out a narrow path between the rocks, just wide enough to admit a horse, and a few minutes later Jack was led into the presence of his stalwart friend Antonio. Explanations were soon exchanged. Antonio, having become an inoffensive civilian on the fall of Saragossa, had had no difficulty in making his way to the mountains. Falling in with a portion of his old band that had been raiding French convoys along the Saragossa-Tudela road, he had, only a short time before Jack's arrival, effected a junction with the smaller band whom Jack had met in the inn. He was now the leader of a total force of over a hundred men, among whom Jack recognized with pleasure several of his sturdiest fighters during the siege.
When Antonio had explained to the others who Jack was, their enthusiasm knew no bounds. The Saragossa veterans had already told them what their English leader had accomplished during the siege; how theirs had been the only quarter in the city in which the French had made no progress during the last three weeks. Antonio now waxed eloquent on the same theme, and wound up by commanding his men to serve the Señor as they would their own captain.
If anything had been wanting to complete his welcome it would have been supplied by the news he brought. Antonio no sooner heard that a French foraging-party was in the neighbourhood than he decided to cut it off. He was anxious to start immediately and ambush it on its way back to the house, but Jack suggested a better plan. The country around the house, being, though hilly, fairly open, presented little opportunity for a successful ambuscade, and in the event of the guerrilla troop being discovered, there would be great likelihood of the majority of the enemy escaping. It would be better, Jack suggested, to surround the house at night; not a Frenchman should then escape. Antonio at once agreed. He said that he would leave the planning entirely to the Señor, which, Jack thought, was as it should be; for Antonio, though a brave and dashing leader of a storming-party, had little claim but that of bull-dog courage to his position as captain.
At four o'clock the band, well-mounted and eager, set out on their march. The road followed led by a circuitous course to the foot of the hill on which the Casa Alvarez stood. It was past seven when, as they wheeled round to the left, they saw the twinkling lights of the house more than a mile above them.
"They are very bold," remarked Jack to Antonio. "There must be a considerable force of French in Calatayud, perhaps at Morata also, or these foragers would have made some attempt to conceal their movements."
"Few or many, Señor," declared Antonio, "we'll capture these dogs and hang them up in a string."
"No, no; but we needn't talk about what we'll do with them till we have them. I've been thinking out a plan of attack as we rode along. It will be best to leave our horses some distance from the house. If one of them began to neigh it would at once put the French on the alert. We must attack on foot in any case. There is a hollow a little farther on where we can leave the horses under guard."