Jack looked across the ravine. A pale half-moon was shining, as yet somewhat low in the sky, and the ravine and river-bed were gloomed by black shadows. The line of the entrenchments showed rugged against the background, in which watch-fires here and there marked the night bivouac of the French. From the far distance came faint and fitful noises; the gurgling wash of the river against its embankments made the only sound in the vicinity. Jack ran his eyes along the edge of the entrenchment for a hundred yards in each direction. Certainly no sentinel was in sight. "Perhaps he is resting," he remarked. "There is no need for him to tramp up and down in sight all the time." "True, Señor, but why to-night? Why on this night should we miss what we have seen without exception for many nights past?" "It is certainly strange. I shouldn’t think it implied any particular danger of an attack; should you?" At this moment Pepito touched him on the arm. "Something crawling, Señor!" he said. He pointed across the river towards a spot in deep shadow half-way down the opposite slope. Jack looked in that direction, but failed to perceive any moving object. "You are mistaken, Pepito," he said. The gipsy was stretched now at full length on the wall, peering, with his hands arching his eyes, into the darkness. "A man crawling!" he whispered. "See!" Jack and Don Casimir followed the boy’s example, and, keeping the moonlight from their eyes, at length discerned a dark figure crawling slowly down the steep. A moment later, all three caught sight of a second figure following at a short interval the first. "They are coming within range," whispered Don Casimir. "I will order my men to shoot." "Stay!" said Jack quickly. "Let us wait. Pass the word along the sentries not to shoot if they see two men approaching. Two men will not overpower us and capture the city, Señor; there is something puzzling, as you say, in all this. We must find out what it means." The men had now reached the foot of the opposite slope. On the ramparts several pairs of eyes were watching them eagerly. At the brink of the river they halted for a moment, then stepped into the water. Jack looked questioningly at Don Casimir. "Yes," said the latter, "the Huerba is fordable here." Two figures were wading through the water. They gained the nearer bank; they climbed up. When on dry land again they no longer crawled, but clambered as rapidly as might be up the steep ascent to the wall. Jack felt growing interest and excitement as they came up foot by foot, with no attempt at concealment. They were within four yards of the wall. "Quien vive?" asked Don Casimir in clear low tones. "Silencio!" said the first of the two figures, holding up a warning hand. "I am a friend; help me up." The wall was some fourteen feet in height, and there was no apparent means of assisting the man below.