As Marcelino left the quinta on one side, Evaña galloped in by the gate on the other. The Highland officer in command knew him slightly, having seen him frequently in company with General Beresford, and seeing his agitation divined the object of his visit, and invited him to dismount.
"Are there any killed here?" asked Evaña.
"Several," replied the officer.
The men were collecting the bodies of the slain from among the trees and from the azotea, and laid them in the patio side by side; some wounded also they removed within the house. Eagerly Evaña scrutinised them one by one as the soldiers brought them forward; as they brought the last his heart gave a bound of joy, Marcelino was not among them.
"There are some wounded outside," said he to the officer; "I will go and see if I can assist them."
"I will send a party to collect them and bring them here," replied the officer.
But without waiting for aid, Evaña remounted his horse, rode back to the scene of horror which lay without, and set to work to aid the wounded to the best of his ability, tearing strips from the clothing of the dead to bind up the wounds of those for whom there was yet hope.
One man he saw lying on his face with a leg hid under the body of his dead horse. As he passed him the man turned his head slightly to look at him; he was not dead. Evaña knelt down beside him to see if he was past all aid; he could see no wound on him.
"Speak," said he to him, "where are you wounded?"
"Leave me," answered the man; "for God's sake, leave me. I am not wounded, but if they know that I am alive they will kill me."