This started the retreat, and then began a bloody running fight from one end of the city to the other. Three several times did the fugitives rally and strive nobly to retrieve their lost fortunes, but in vain. They were overmatched, and finally broke in every direction, each man fleeing as choice impelled him, only intent upon escaping the avengers who stood in their footpaths.
The pursuit was continued by the main body for several miles, and when they abandoned it a few still persisted. Marcos Sayosa led his triumphant band back to the town, and retiring to the house he had selected as his quarters for the present, with his officers, they deliberated as to what should be their future course. They well knew that should their identity become known, and they were captured by the military, there could be but one ending. And some hours they argued pro and con, without coming to any definite conclusion. They knew that in a short time the fugitive military would return with reinforcements, against which they would stand but a faint chance of making a successful resistance, even were they mad enough to attempt it.
The city was gloomy enough. The main street was still scattered with the dead and wounded miners, lying as they fell. The houses were all closed and barred, the inhabitants most likely trembling lest their doors should be forced and their wealth, perhaps even life, be taken. Several posadas had been forced open, and the Scarlet Shoulders were fast becoming uproarious over the confiscated wines and liquors.
The young captain was standing with Lucas Planillas and several others upon the azotea, still in consultation, when Sayosa suddenly paused, and, shading his eyes with his hand, peered keenly toward the south-west. The form of a single horseman was riding at a break-neck speed toward the city, while on the rising ground far beyond him could faintly be distinguished the light cloud either produced by a fire or the discharging of guns.
“Voto a Dios, ’nor Lucas, but I believe there is mischief going on yonder. Surely a fight is going on; perhaps some of our comarados are in trouble. Go you and see what the cavallero is spurring so fast for, and let us know as soon as possible;” and then, as Planillas departed upon his errand, Marcos turned to his companions, and added:
“Cavalleros, we may be needed yonder. See how many horses you can find before the lieutenant returns, and one of you pass the word for the men to be in readiness to march, if needs be.”
As he turned toward the point where the horseman had been seen, he found that Planillas had just met him, and, after a few moments, during which, apparently, a few explanations were given, the man dismounted, and Don Lucas, vaulting into the saddle, galloped on toward the headquarters. Descending the steps, Sayosa awaited his approach, and, when within call, exclaimed:
“Well, amigo, what is it?”
“We are needed out yonder. There is an escort guarding some ladies that have been attacked by a band of Melladios, who outnumber them two to one. They have sent to ask assistance. Will you go?”
“Cascaras, yes! Go you and start what men you can find on foot. We will follow as soon as horses can be got. In a few moments,” hastily returned Marcos.