The first sentry was struck in the leg, and dropping his Mauser rifle he went hobbling away, bellowing as lustily as a calf; but his comrade was made of better stuff, and at once opened fire in the quarter from whence the shots came.
This was serious enough, for one of the steel clad bullets, even while missing Roderic might glance from some stone and do damage beyond.
So the American forgot that he had intended to simply wound, and began firing point blank, in the hope of downing the Spaniard before he could do any damage.
He was rejoiced then to see the man suddenly stagger back, raise his weapon half way to his shoulder, fire a last shot; and then gun and sentry fell on the rampart together.
The way was open!
It had been cleared at heavy cost—just how heavy Roderic did not even suspect at the time.
"Come," he said, huskily, "over the wall and down to safety—it is our only hope!"
And while the roll of the drum called the Spanish garrison to quarters and soldiers hurried to doubly guard the walls, the fugitives scrambled over the debris that half blocked the breach in the old fortress made by the guns of Sampson's war ships.
Over these impediments Roderic assisted Georgia, nor could he fail to notice how strangely she seemed to hesitate, trusting almost entirely in his strong arm, which was so unlike the Georgia he had known of old.
Perhaps the realization of her dream, and the rescue of Leon from his dungeon had brought about this singular result.