"They have lit the fires—there is danger in the hills, then. Du courage, mon ami! It will be a clever fellow who shall lay hands upon me in my own house. But ride, ride!—ride as I ride!"
She set the good example with her words, and never man rode as she rode, sweeping through the labyrinthine path at a mad gallop, which was like to the gallop of a phantom. Messenger had a fine knowledge of horsemanship, but scarce could he keep with her as she dashed, by thicket and bramble and through the darkening groves, onward to the flickering lights which now marked the work of her own men in the park of the castle. Nor was her mad flight a mere freak of excitement, as the man at one time thought; for scarce were they come to the last thicket which lay between them and the open park when five mounted carabineers, whose dark-blue coats looked black in the failing light, forced their horses upon their path, and called loudly for them to stop. So sudden was their appearance that the woman had hardly drawn rein and pulled her pony upon its haunches when both she and Messenger were among the company, and their leader rode forward to lay his hands upon the Englishman. But at this the hag rose upon her stirrups like a fury, and, striking the man across the face with the butt-end of her whip, she felled him to the ground at the blow.
As the man fell his four companions stood back dumb before the fury of the crone. But she, cursing them fiercely in Spanish, drew two pistols from her holsters with amazing readiness. One she gave to Messenger, and, with the other in her bridle-hand, she cackled—
"Follow where I lead, and shoot when I shoot! I count upon you!"
The readiness of the woman was as remarkable in this vital moment as it had been all along. While she yet spake the words she wheeled her pony round and galloped back for twenty yards; but there she wheeled again, and set spurs to the brute so that it bounded forward with the agony; while the man imitated her, and, driving his horse forward headlong, he rode at the four. So irresistible was the charge that the carabineers instinctively held back in their saddles as the witch neared them—a horrid figure of a woman screeching with uncontrollable rage—but she, as she swung outward from her pommel, fired twice at their horses, and the brutes reared and plunged before her, and galloped madly into the woods. Of the others Messenger shot one in the forehead, whereon the man's horse raced away with him, dragging a corpse at the saddle; but the fourth, in no wise fear-stricken, let the pair pass him, and then loosed rein for the pursuit.
The vigour and courage of the charge had now carried the pursued into the open park, where the veldt was smooth as a green, and the ponies flew on with the mad gallop of fear. The carabineer at their heels had pulled a pistol from his holster, but had no skill in shooting from the saddle, and his bullets skimmed the ground, or whistled high in the air, or were buried in the turf immediately before him. Yet still he held on, and, shouting loudly with the intense heat of chase, he was presently answered in loud whoops from the woods by the sea, whence came a company of lancers at the gallop. They were the men from Vivero, and it was evident that they had seen the woman as she rode, and were set to the pursuit of her. But at the sight of them she laughed again with her wild harsh laugh, and her pony, as if in sympathy, bounded forward in the momentous race which was to save the lives of the pursued or to put them and the bullion at the mercy of the Spaniards.
The two, as I have said, were now upon the fine stretch of lawn-like land which ran up to the moat on that side of the castle where the keep was. Inspired by the near proximity of stables, and by knowledge of the environment, the ponies here gathered themselves together, as rabbits that press upon a warren, and snorted with the freshness of their pace and their own pleasure at it. Yet, with all their efforts, they would scarce have outpaced the troopers had not the shoremen come to their aid, and at the very moment when the aid was needed sorely. Scarce, indeed, were the riders come into the park than a great crying went up from the purlieus of the mansion; wild arrieros and hillmen came crowding upon the wooden bridge which stood across the moat for lack of drawbridge, and yelled lustily encouragement to the pursued and oaths upon the pursuers. Then, running some for their muskets and some for their pistols, they threw themselves flat upon the grass, and began to pick off the galloping cavalry with a skill which could be looked for only among nomads of the hills.
At this sight the Spanish woman cut her pony fiercely with the whip, and took new heart. She had been riding for some time crouched down upon her brute's neck, fearing the pistol bullets of the carabineers; but when her own men began to shoot, she sat upright again, and screeched approval with a reckless flow of curses and encouragements which must have been heard away upon the sea. And in her exulting joy she circled about Messenger, so speedy beyond his was her pony, and shared with him her anticipations.
"Once beyond the bridge, mon ami, there is safety— safety! Let them follow me then! I have a hundred men at the gates, and another hundred upon the hills. Let them come if they care nothing for their lives! Holy Virgin, what music!"
It was the music of musketry that she spoke of—the music of a rattling volley fired by the mercenaries upon the grass-land. And so well did they shoot that twenty of the horsemen reeled back in their saddles with the echo of the report, and twenty more at the least fell headlong upon the turf with dead or dying brutes beneath them. Then for the first time the troopers checked their pace, and, swerving right and left from the deadly attack, they reined in for consultation. But this was the woman's opportunity. As a second volley flashed upon the failing light she rode furiously across the gravel pathway which led to the bridge; and, Messenger being at her heels, they presently drew up among their men with a great clatter of stones and ponies reeking; and were welcomed with guttural shouts that rang through court and cloister as the cry of a victorious army.
XXV. THE SECOND PERIL OF THE CREEK
In the first unrestrained reaction of success the pandemonium that arose in the inner quadrangle of the castle was beyond words. Muleteers, serving-men, shepherds, masters of coasters, hillmen, babbled and gesticulated with a vigour which defied all the woman's demand for silence. Of the vast throng not a half were armed with guns or pistols; but the swarthy majority flourished shillalahs or plain clubs, or the shining cuchillos, and seemed bent upon an immediate sortie to the destruction of the cavalry, or of anything or anybody that they might hap upon. And now they swarmed about Messenger and the woman, whose reeking ponies were half hid in a cloud of steam, and demanded orders, or suggested them, or reeled off oaths, or uttered shrill "olés" with all the awakened spirit of the rarely awakened Spaniard.
Such a scene might have been prolonged even to the morning had it not been for the near presence of the pursuing cavalry in the park. Even above the clamour of the horde, and while the woman was commanding silence in vain, there came the sharp sound of shooting, coupled with the duller reports of the old smooth-bore guns with which many of the Spaniards were armed. And again after that, while a semblance of a hush had fallen upon the company, there were those that came into the quadrangle, carrying dead or dying, and calling out that the troopers had begun to shoot, and were advancing rapidly to the very gardens of the mansion. Then only was the woman heard, and as she gave her orders her voice rang out with the penetration of a bugle-note.
"Call them in," she cried in Spanish, "call them in, and stand by the bridge! At the shot of the pistol let the chains go! Fernando, is all ready below?—then take your place here, and hold the gate as you would hold your lives!"
They had blown a horn almost with her order, and at that signal the mob without ran in quickly over the bridge, and came raging into the courtyard, some showing wounds, others telling of men shot and of escapes. But the lancers mounted again and came swiftly over the turf toward the suspended bridge, a young officer leading them with drawn sword.
"Now," said the woman, as she watched their advance with a grim smile upon her blackened features, "now—let them swim!" and with that she fired her revolver