They reached the topmost room, whither the girl had already carried her feeble, whimpering aunt. The extemporized bridge was long enough to rest on the ledge of the opposite parapet, with a foot each way to spare. But it could not be thrown across without a support at the other end; its weight would more than counterbalance any pressure that could be exerted on the end in the room. "Another rope!" cried Jack. He had noticed a strong staple in the attic roof above the window. Francisco came back in two minutes with a long rope. Jack lashed it round the end of the planks, sprang on the window-sill, and pulled the rope through the staple. "Now let it out steadily as I push the bridge across." Juanita stood with shining eyes, watching the young stranger as he pushed the planks across the street, while Francisco stolidly paid out the rope. The bridge rested on the parapet. "Hold this end firmly against the sill," said Jack to Francisco. Juanita held her breath as the young fellow mounted a chair, stepped out of the window, and walked cautiously to the middle of the bending bridge. In a moment he was back again in the room. "It will bear," he cried. "I go first with the Señora." He lifted the old lady carefully; she was too much dazed to have any consciousness of what was before her, and lay inert in Jack’s arms, moaning "Ay de mí! Ay de mí!" incessantly. "Wait till I return," he said to Juanita, who stood, her cheeks flushed with excitement and hope, within the room. Step by step he slowly bore the old lady across the creaking, swaying planks, till he reached the other side; then he laid her gently down behind the parapet at the foot of the gable. Then he sped back. "Now it is your turn, Señorita," he said, preparing to lift the girl. "I can go alone," she said without hesitation. "I can," she repeated resolutely as Jack sought to detain her. Springing lightly on to the planks, she paused for an instant, caught her skirt in one hand, bit her lips, and then ran across as lightly as a hare, Jack watching her with a tense feeling of anxiety mingled with admiration. He gave a gasp of relief. "Now, hombre," he said, turning to the old servant, who had held the planks steady without uttering a word. "Not so, Señor," he said; "I go last." "Nonsense! I am responsible for this. Get on at once." There were loud shouts from below. "I am old, Señor. The Frenchmen in the street have seen us now; they will shoot; it matters little if I die." "No more. You must go. The ladies require you." From the parapet opposite Juanita was looking at them. Her cheeks were very pale. "Come, Francisco," she said in a tone of authority that brooked no denial.