Having still some hopes of escaping, as it was possible my pursuers might attempt to secure the leathern case, and allow me time to distance them before they could discover that it was empty, I dashed on,—not even looking back to ascertain if they were following. At length I stopped; but what was my dismay, on taking a glance over my shoulder, to see that half-a-dozen of the most active of the party were pressing hard after me! Had the path continued down-hill, I should have succeeded in escaping; but, unhappily, I found that the only way I could follow led directly up the steep side of a mountain, where I must be exposed to the view of my pursuers. Could I, however, reach the top, so that I might once more have only to run down-hill, I might be safe; and I knew that I could climb up-hill faster than they could. I held on, therefore. Their object had probably been to take me alive, that they might obtain information from me as to the movements of the combatants; but seeing that I might escape them, they halted, and brought their muskets to their shoulders.
As I turned my head for an instant, I saw what they were about. Yet even then I did not despair, and on I bounded up the hill. The next moment I heard the bullets strike the ground round me, and at the same time felt a peculiar sensation in my leg, as if the cold end of a lance had entered it. I knew that I was hit, but that no bone or muscle worth speaking of had been injured. Though wounded, I felt capable of considerable exertion; and so, casting another look behind me, to ascertain what my enemies were about,—not dreaming of giving in,—I saw that they were reloading. Still, I might gain the top of the hill.
Once more the rattle of musketry sounded in my ears; and a very unpleasant sound it is, for the person at whom the balls are aimed. “A miss, however, is as good as a mile;” and though two or three bullets whistled close to my ears, and another went through the sleeve of my jacket, I was sure that I had escaped this second salvo.
The top of the hill appeared just above me, when I felt myself seized with faintness, against which I struggled in vain. I staggered for a few yards farther, and then sank on the ground. I must have lost consciousness; for the next moment, as it seemed to me, when I opened my eyes I saw my enemies standing round me.
“He is an Englishman,” I heard one of them say.
“We must not kill him now; he has made a brave attempt to escape,” remarked another.
“Young as he looks, he will probably know some thing our general would like to hear,” observed a third. “We must carry him with us.” And another, still more considerate, advised that my wound should be bound up, or I might bleed to death.
Thanking them for their good intentions, I produced a handkerchief, with which, the last speaker assisting me, I bound up my leg. Happily, the wound was not so serious as it might have been; for the bullet had passed through the flesh without cutting any considerable artery or blood-vessel, and gone out again—carrying with it the piece of cloth it had cut from my trousers.
The men, with more consideration than I should have expected from them, then lifted me up on their shoulders and conveyed me to the hut which had served as their guard-house. After I had been there some time an officer appeared, who asked if I was ready to give any information about the movements of the patriots; but I replied that I was merely the bearer of despatches—with the contents of which I was unacquainted—and that I had, as in duty bound, thrown away my despatch-case. I guessed, from various questions put to me, that it had not been discovered; which was, at all events, satisfactory, as they were less likely to suppose that I had the letters concealed about me. The officer then told me that, as I was strong enough to sit a mule, he would send me to General Morillo, who might possibly find means of eliciting information. I begged that I might remain a few days in quiet, to give my wound an opportunity of healing. He answered that I must consider myself fortunate in not being immediately put to death, as would have been the fate of most people; but that, as I had shown courage, and was an Englishman, he would give me a chance of saving my life and regaining my liberty: though he warned me that, should I refuse to give all the information I might possess, the general would shoot or hang me without scruple.
Of course I thanked the officer for his courtesy, and expressed my readiness to set out, and sit my mule as long as I could; not that I had the slightest intention of giving General Morillo any information, but I hoped, during the journey, to find some opportunity of escaping.