“Felipe, dear one, where are you hurt? Answer me, I pray; ’tis I, Augustina, who calls you.”
But there was no answer. The iron fragment from the cannon ball had hit Felipe above the heart, and struck out in a moment the life of a brave soldier. Again and again Augustina called to him, stroking the curling black hair, and smoothing the hands all stained from his work. How long she sat there with Felipe’s head in her lap, she never knew. Slowly in her mind the idea grew that some one must take his place. No one must think that Felipe’s gun was silent because he had deserted; the faith of his townsfolk in his courage must not be destroyed.
Besides, what was that she had heard? It was Felipe himself who had told her of the dreadful thing which happened every night on the walls. She could hardly bear to think of it,—but at dusk gibbets were set up, and on them were hung all deserters and cowards.
Oh, if they should think that Felipe was a coward!
Somebody must take his place, but who—who was to do it?
There were far too few men now, able to fill the places of danger on the walls.
“Then must even I,” said Augustina to herself; and she laid poor Felipe down tenderly, and threw her mantilla over the quiet face. There was no time for tears. She had watched him as he loaded the gun, and now tried to do it herself.
“Now may Our Lady of the Pillar help me!” and as she breathed the prayer, Augustina dragged the heavy case which held so many death-dealing balls to the mouth of the gun, lifted and pushed it into place. After firing the charge, she dropped on her knees, and with her hands covering her face waited through an awful moment!
Suddenly there was a tearing, crashing sound, an explosion so loud that it took away her breath, and then Augustina knew that the gun of Felipe spoke as if he still stood at its side. A sob broke from her lips, but she crushed it down, and with one look at the still form beneath the mantilla, she rose to her feet and turned to the gun. Her slender hands had difficulty in managing the heavy cases, but she kept at it bravely, murmuring to herself,—
“For Felipe and for Spain!”