The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1894-10-17
CHAPTER XXX.

must fight on. AS swiftly as could
withdrew those who were left to me to
certain angle in the path, where q score OF
desperate men might for awhile hold back
the advance of an army. Here called for
some to stand at my side, and many an
swered to my call. Out of them chose
so men or more, bidding the rest run hard
for the City of Pines, there to warn those
who were left in garrison that the hour OF
danger was upon them, and, should foil,
to conjure Otomie, my wife, to make the
best resistance in her power till, it it were
possible, she could wiring from the Span
iards promise Of safety for herself, her
child and her people. Meanwhile could
hold the pass so that time might be given
to shut the gates and man the walls. With
the main body Of those who were left to
me sent back my son, though he prayed
hard to be allowed to stay with me. But,
seeing nothing. before me except death,
refused him.
Presently all were gone, and fearing
snare the Spaniards came slowly and eau
tiously round the angle Of the rock, and
seeing so few men mustered to meet them,
halted, for now they were certain that we
had set trap for them, since they did not
think it possible that such a little band
would venture to oppose their array. Here
the ground lay so that only few OF them
could come against Us at one time, nor
could they bring their heavy pieces to bear
upon us, and even their arquebuses helped
them but little; also the roughness Of the
road forced them to dismount from their
horses, so that if they would attack at all
it must be on foot This in the end they
chose to do. Many fell upon either side,
though myself received no wound: but in
the end they drove us back; inch by inch
they drove Us back, OF rather those who
were left Of us, at the points Of their long
lances, till at length they forced us into
the mouth Of the pass that is some i've
furlongs distant from what was once the
wall of the City of Pines.
To fight further was of no avail. Here
we must choose between death and fight,
and, as may be guessed, for wives and
children's sake, if not for our own, we
chose to fly. Across the plain we fed like
deer, and after us came the Spanlards and
their allies like hounds. Happily the
ground was rough with stones, so that their
horses could not gallop freely, and thus it
happened that some of Us. perhaps 90,
gained the gates in safety. Of my army
not more than 500 in all lived to enter
them again, and perchance there were as
many left within the city.
The heavy gates swung to, and scarcely
were they barred with the massive beams
of oak when the foremost of the Spaniards
rode up to them. Ny bow was still IN my
hand, and there was one arrow left In my
culver. set it on the string, and draw
ing the bow with my full strength loosec
the shaft through the bars of the gate at
young and gallant looking cavalier who
rode the first of all
It struck him truly between the joint of
his helm and neckpicce, and stretching his
arms out wide he fell over the crupper OF
his horse to move no more Then they
withdrew, but presently one OF their num-
Der came forward bearing flag OF truce.
He was Q knightly looking man, clad in
rich ar1nor, and watching him it seemed
to me that there was something in his
bearing and in the careless grace with
which he sat his horse that was familiar to
me. Refining up in front of the gates, he
raised his visor and began to speak
knew him at once. Before me was De
Garcia, my enemy, of whom had neither
seen nor heard anything for hard upon IL
years. Time had touched him indeed,
which was scarcely to be wondered at, for
now he was a man of so or more. His
peaked chestnut colored beard was streaked
with gray, his checks were hollow, and at
that distance his lips seemed like two thln
red lines, but the eyes were as they had al
ways been, bright and piercing, and the
same cold smile played about his mouth
Without a doubt it was De Garcia, who
now, as at every crisis OF my life, appeared
to shape my fortunes to some evil end, and
felt as looked upon him that the last
and greatest struggle between us was at
hand, and that before many days were
sped the ancient and accumulated hate OF
one or both Of US would be buried forever
In the silence Of death. How Ill had fate
dealt with PC now, as always! But fe"
minutes before, when set that ;::srow on
the string, I had waveced for a moment,
doubling whether to Loose it at the young
cavalier who lay dead or at the knight who
rode next to him, a2d SOC. lad slain oHc,
with whom had 10 quarrel and LETT my
enemy unhar1nod!
"Ho. therc!" CRED De Garcia IN Spanish.
IT desire to speak wish the leader OF the
rebel Otonie on behalf of Tie Captain ber-
nal Diaz, who commands this army
Now I mounted on the wall by means
of a ladder which was ct hand ard an
swered, ''Speak on; I am the man you
seek
''You know Spanish well, friend, said
De Garcia, starting and looking at me
keenly beneath his bent brows. Say now,
where did you learn it? And what Is
| YOUR name and lineage?"
II learned it, Juan de Garcia, from a
certain Donna Luisa, whom you knew in
your days Of youth. And my name IS
Thomas Wingfeld.' -
Now De Garcia rccled N his saddle and
swore great oath.
Mother of Godt' he said years ago
was told that you had taken up your abode
among some savage tribe, but since then
| have been far, to Spain and back indeed,
and deemed that you were dead, Thomas
Wingfeld Ny luck is good, in truth, for
it has been one Of the great SORROWS of my
life that you have so often escaped me-
rene0ade Be ire that this time there