They gave way before Tio Jorge’s impetuous rush; then, as Jack, with a feeling of elation that once more the enemy were foiled, arrived at the barricade, he heard Jorge Arcos shout to his men to retire, and they came pelting back, followed by a few wild shots from the discomfited French. "Viva la España! Viva Saragossa! Viva el Señor Ingles! Viva Tio Jorge!" The air rang with the jubilant shouts of the Spaniards, panting, dishevelled, many of them utterly exhausted. A strange calm succeeded the turmoil. Scarcely a live Frenchman was now to be seen; the ground was strewn with dead, and with wounded whom Jack did not dare to remove. He knew that the lull could only be temporary; the French would undoubtedly send for reinforcements. After their successive checks they would not be content until they could bring absolutely crushing force to bear upon the obstinate defenders. The crisis was still to come, and Jack, after warmly congratulating Tio Jorge and Jorge Arcos, as well as Antonio, on the brilliant success they had done so much to bring about, returned to the Casa Alvarez to concert means of meeting the most formidable attack of all. Before he reached the house he saw a girl flying towards him, her mantilla streaming behind. "Oh, Jack, Jack," she cried, "I thought you would be killed!" "Juanita!" he exclaimed. "But you should not be here. It is no place for you. You ought not to have run into danger. Come back with me at once." "I came to help. I will help! Tia Teresa died last night; I have no one now. I can do something. And you—you are hurt! Oh, Jack, you are covered with blood! Come, come, at once, let me do something for you." "I didn’t know it," said Jack simply. He brushed his hand across his brow; it was smeared with blood. Looking at his coat he saw blood trickling through a rent in the sleeve. "It’s nothing," he said. "I don’t feel a scratch. If you must help, Juanita—and it is brave of you,—why, there are many others who need attention more than I." "You first, Jack. Come at once; I insist! How can you lead your men if you are blinded with blood? Jack, you are doing grandly; it is splendid!" "You are right, Señorita," put in Tio Jorge, who had come up with them. "All the men say the English Señor is a hero, and, por Dios! the French will never get the better of him." By this time they had reached the house, where Juanita insisted on bathing and binding up Jack’s wounds before she attended to any of the others. Jorge Arcos had been slightly wounded in the dash across the barricade, and afterwards Jack remembered, with a strange glow, the roughly-expressed gratitude of the savage innkeeper as Juanita tenderly assisted him.