For awhile their consternation hinders them from action. They stand looking on until we are near. Then they behold pale-faces, strange armour, and horses singularly caparisoned. It is the white enemy!
They run from point to point, from street to street. Those who carry water dash down their ollas, and rush screaming to the houses. They climb to the roofs, drawing the ladders after them. Shouts are exchanged, and exclamations uttered in the voices of men, women, and children. Terror is on every face; terror displays itself in every movement.
Meanwhile our line has approached, until we are within two hundred yards of the walls. We halt for a moment. Twenty men are left as an outer guard. The rest of us, thrown into a body, ride forward, following our leader.
Chapter Thirty Eight.
Adèle.
We direct ourselves to the great building, and, surrounding it, again halt. The old men are still upon the roof, standing along the parapet. They are frightened, and tremble like children.
“Do not fear; we are friends!” cried Seguin, speaking in a strange language, and making signs to them.
His voice is not heard amidst the shrieks and shouting that still continue.