“It is nothing, daughter,” said the friar; “brave women are not afraid of powder. On the contrary, they should take as much pleasure in it as in the sound of castanets and mandolins.”
“When I hear a ball,” said Manuela, coming slowly and timidly back, “there is not a drop of blood left in my veins.”
At this moment the French, wishing to try the artillery of their second parallel, shot off a cannon, and the ball came against the wall of the redoubt, shattering the loose bricks into a thousand pieces. Everybody rose to look at the enemy. The highland girl cried out in terror; and Tío Garcés was moved to scream through a loophole at the French, heaping upon them the most insolent words, accompanied by many exclamations. The little dog, running from one end of the place to the other, barked furiously.
“Manuela, let us dance another jota to the sound of this music, and viva the Virgin del Pilar,” cried Pirli, jumping about like one out of his senses.
Manuela rose on tiptoe, impelled by curiosity, and slowly stretched up her head to look at the camp from the wall. Then, casting her glance over the level plain, she seemed to dissipate, little by little, the terrors of her fainting spirit; and at last we saw her surveying the enemy’s lines with a certain serenity, and even with a little complacency.
“One, two, three cannon!” she said, counting the fiery mouths which were discernible at that distance. “Come, little boys, don’t be afraid. This is nothing to you!”
Over near San José was heard the booming of guns, and on our redoubt sounded the drum calling to arms. From the neighboring stronghold had