“Is there any secret understanding with the enemy? have you received any private information? What hope of escape can you have? The escort is strong—our soldiers vigilant.”
“Still—hopeless as they may be, 1 will not throw chances away. I tell you honestly, Colonel La Coste, that I will use every means of effecting an escape—”
“Which I shall take precautions to render impracticable,” he added. “I have a stern duty to perform; and even though it cost mine ancient friend a son, La Coste shall not be wanting.”
He waived his hand—the chasseurs resumed a place at either side—and one took my bridle in his hand. The commandant addressed them—
“Should this gentleman endeavour to get away, or should an attempt be made to rescue him that seems likely to succeed, shoot him on the spot. We lost one that we should have captured; we must not lose another. Look first, to this gentleman’s security; and secondly, to his comfort. Impose no unnecessary restraint—but deliver him safely at Toledo, or, mark the consequences!—your lives shall be the forfeit of his liberty,” he said—spurred his horse forward, and took his place at the head of the column, which had now left Casa Mora in its rear.
The line of march ran through a country, wild, picturesque, and difficult. A sierra of steep ascent was immediately in our front—the summit crowned with broken crags—and the sides clothed thickly with ilex, cork, and olive trees. As we advanced, the woods grew thicker, and the road was surmounted by rocks on either hand. It seemed as if it had been originally a great water-course, which human labour had converted into a passage through the mountain. We approached the gorge of the pass with military caution. Videttes preceded the advanced guard; and, on either side, voltigeurs were thrown out in extended order, to feel the woods, and keep the flanks secure. Colonel La Coste, after making every disposition against surprise, joined the centre of the column, where I was riding with my friends the chasseurs, who had been so particularly entrusted with the pleasant duty of dispatching me on the first alarm. The Colonel ordered them to fall back once more; and, satisfied that we were secure from any molestation, he indulged again in fresh details of some of the many scenes and services which he had passed through during his adventurous career. Still, evidently he was not at ease; and as we entered the defile, he could not repress feelings of apprehension.
“What an infernal guerilla-pass it is!” he half spoke, half-muttered to himself: “The country and the men seem formed for each other, and designed for cut-throat warfare. And the manner the road winds, too,—you cannot see fifty yards in front for rocks and thickets. We’re near the summit. Heaven be praised!—for, sooth to say, Mr. O’Halloran, this is not exactly the place where I should wish to have the honour of trying conclusions with your esteemed friend, the Empecinado.”
The road made here a wide and sudden sweep, dipping into a hollow in the mountain-ridge. Right in front, a pinnacle of rock appeared to bar all farther passage, and the path was scarped from its side. The hollow way on either side was bordered by thick underwood—and nothing eould be more suspicious-looking than this wild and difficult gorge. Again Colonel La Coste rode forward to the front, to restore the order of the column, which had become crowded and disordered, from the narrowness and ruggedness of the path.
Before, however, the commandant could reach his advanced guard, a vidette galloped hastily back, and announced that the road in front was entirely blocked up with trees, formed into a strong abatis, impassable to cavalry. The chasseurs were halted, and the light infantry ordered forward to remove the barrier by which the further-progress of the column had been thus arrested. Nearly at the same moment, the rear-guard were suddenly fired on from thickets on either side, while a number of partidas rushed from their previous concealments, and, in a few minutes, effectually closed up the narrow road which the detachment had already passed, by throwing trees and rocks across it. That the French party were completely surprised, was now but too apparent. The voltigeurs, in attempting to force the abatis, had been shot down by dozens; and every knoll, or rock, which overlooked the pass, swarmed with guerillas, who commenced a murderous fire from their long-barrelled fowling-pieces, and that, too, upon the close ranks of an enemy where every bullet told.
The old republican had ridden forward to encourage the voltigeurs to force the abatis, that the column might fight its way through the gorge in which it had been entangled—but he was shot through the heart, and dropped dead from his charger. The suddenness of the attack—the fall of their leader—the appearance of countless enemies on every side, completed the panic, and paralysed exertions which, under ordinary circumstances, the enemy would have made. To a stern demand to surrender, the voltigeurs replied by throwing down their arms, while the chasseurs hastily dismounted, and endeavoured to obtain protection behind their horses, from a constant and deadly fusilade. Some had endeavoured to escape through the underwood—and a few succeeded in the attempt—but the greater number were cut down; and presently resistance ceased.