weeping, seeing us go from where she stood in the shade of the cypress which had sheltered us. At the moment when we opened the gate, a cry was heard from the upper part of the house, and we saw Candiola, who, half-dressed, was leaning out in a threatening attitude. Augustine wished to turn back; but I forced him forward, and we went.
“To the lines! To the lines, at once!” I cried. “They will degrade us, Augustine! Leave your future father-in-law to deal with your future wife for the present.”
We ran swiftly into the Coso, where we saw that innumerable bombs were being hurled upon the unhappy city. Everybody ran as fast as possible to the various positions of defence—some to Las Tenerías, some to the Portillo, some to Santa Engracia or to the Trinitarios. As we arrived at the arch of Cineja, we stumbled upon Don José de Montoria, who, followed by some of his friends, was running towards the Almudí. In the same moment a terrible crash behind us proclaimed that one of the enemy’s projectiles had fallen upon a neighboring residence. Augustine, hearing this, turned back, longing to return to the place from whence we came.
“Where are you going, porra !” cried his father, detaining him. “To the Tenerías! Make haste! To the Tenerías!”
The people who were coming and going knew the place of the disaster, and we heard them saying—
“Three bombs have fallen close to the house of Candiola.”
“The angels of heaven certainly aimed those guns,” laughed Don José de Montoria, noisily. “We shall see how the Mallorcan Jew keeps them off, if he is still alive till he puts his money in a place of safety.”
“Let us run and rescue those unfortunate beings!” cried Augustine, with emotion.