Then, triumphant, we marched off—a defiant, victorious squad, tattered and torn to a degree. For myself, my white coat had gone entirely; a cotton singlet which I wore was minus an arm, and that which was left was splashed with blood; my white trousers were torn from the ankle to the knee, and one of my shoes was missing.
We had not proceeded far, however, before we found that Don Carlos's howling for the vigilantes was taking effect.
From this street and that figures came running, and swelled a rapidly growing mob, which followed on our heels, hooting and throwing missiles. Higher up the street a shout was raised, which cry was taken up and echoed by the mob. An officer of vigilantes, with drawn sword and bristling moustache, pushed his way through the crowd and called upon us to halt. Failing to get his way by word of mouth, he started pricking us in the legs with his sword-point. Hearing me give the order to "rush him," and seeing in me the man whom he believed to be in command, he directed his attentions to me. "Halta! halta!" he cried, peremptorily, but I pushed him aside and marched on. Then a sharp stab in my leg made me hop. For a moment only did I hesitate, then my back stiffened, my hand shot forward with the malacca at the first guard, and with my old R.N.R. drill in my mind I engaged him—his sword to my cane.
For some time we went at it hammer and tongs, while the crowd stood back in awestricken amazement. Acting only on the defensive, I warded off his cuts with a coolness which surprised me later on, but soon a stinging sensation in the shoulder caused me to change my tactics. Pressing him hard until an opening presented itself, I brought him to the ground with a "cut one," delivered with all the force I possessed.
Then came the retreat. Away we flew—the Frenchmen, with our wounded man, towards the mountains; some of our men up one street, some down another, while I made a bee-line for the wharf and the boat.
The howling mob behind pursued me hotly. Occasionally I would stop and shake my cane at them, which had the effect of bringing them to a momentary halt. Then I was off again.
I don't wonder at their halting when I swung round upon them, for I must have cut a most awful figure. Blood-stained and ragged, with the excitement of battle showing in my eyes and face, they must have thought I was mad, and for the moment I suppose I was.
Soon the wharf hove into view. Out in the bay I could see the lights of my ship. With beating heart and laboured breath I sped on. Suddenly someone rushed out at me from a dark corner. For a moment I staggered; then, as he raced on at my side, I discovered, to my joy, that it was one of my shipmates.
Another hundred yards and we should be safe. Then, without warning, we ran straight into the arms of a cordon of vigilantes drawn up in a semicircle awaiting our approach!
It was all over. Unresistingly we allowed ourselves to be manacled, and, guarded on either side by half-a-dozen men with shouldered rifles and fixed bayonets, we were driven off to the "calaboose," two officers on horseback bringing up the rear of the cavalcade.