Doubtless such inveterate gamesters might have found some satisfaction in Roderic's position when, upon turning from the friendly balcony he pitched himself and his fortunes through the open window of the house.
All was uncertainty before him, and the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter would have found it extremely difficult to declare just what turn fortune's wheel was about to take for him.
Roderic himself experienced no pleasure in this groping in the dark, and would have been much better satisfied could he have known just what lay before him.
However, there be times when one must accept philosophically whatever favors the Fates choose to toss us as they go swinging past—times when action is the only resource left, and even at that one needs be wide awake in order to take advantage of the opportunity.
When he burst into the apartment Roderic heard a feminine shriek, but his only thought was a door of some sort that would give him egress.
Fortunately he found this, more through good luck than anything else.
It brought him to a hall.
Few though the seconds had been since his departure from the balcony, he could already hear the lusty blows that were being delivered upon the door of the house, which, unless of far better material than the average doors in San Juan must speedily succumb before the vigorous assault.
This meant that should he descend to the lower strata in search of an outlet by way of court or garden or rear exit of some sort he might be just in time to be overwhelmed by the inflowing tide of eager hustling citizens and soldiers.
At the same time it would never do to stand still and lose what little advantage he had gained.