The thought decided me to act according to the suggestion of the sergeant.
My commands, imparted in a low tone to the comrades that crouched behind me, were followed by a quick rush across the open ground, and the almost instantaneous capture of the fellows around the fire.
It might have been done without alarming their comrades inside, but for one of them discharging his carbine as we came up.
For him it proved an imprudent act. It was the last shot he ever fired. It hurt no one; but he himself dropped dead the instant after, riddled by the bullets of our revolvers.
The rest surrendered without further show of fight; and in a minute more were our prisoners.
The shots, of course, carried the surprise inside; but instead of the door being thrown open, we saw that it was quickly barricaded!
We discovered this on attempting to force it open, and also that it had been contrived with an eye to such contingency!
While occupied in front of it we were saluted with a volley from above; while the besieged brigands were seen over the parapet of the azotea.
Before we could answer the fire, their heads were “ducked;” and we were compelled to stand with guns undischarged, or send our shots idly into the air.
I felt that we were foiled. My comrades shared the thought. A rifleman lay, wounded, among our feet. A second had dropped upon his knees; while three or four others had been scathed by scattering shots.