"It is of the worst, senor. Soon after midday the soldiers began to pour into the town from Saragossa, and special train after special train came loaded with them. They are everywhere; every house in the town has been searched; and they tell me hundreds of prisoners have been hurried away by train to Saragossa. Every road into the town is alive with soldiers, and search parties are spreading out everywhere in all directions. The house of every suspected person is in the hands of the soldiers or the police; and everywhere I heard stories of arms, papers, and property which have been seized." "We are too late," exclaimed Cabrera. "The only chance will be to rally here, senor. It must be." "Where is the senorita?" I asked the lad, unable to restrain my anxiety any longer; and I felt that the eagerness in my voice was very patent. When he told me, to my infinite relief, that she was in the house, a fervent "God be thanked for that!" burst from me, and turning I found Cabrera’s eyes fixed upon me searchingly. "So that’s it," he growled, half under his breath, and he and Garcia whispered for a moment together. "Your pardon, senor," he said aloud to me, and waved the boys out of hearing. "Stand back a bit, lads. The senorita is much to us all, senor, but the cause is more than any one of us—more than even her safety. Our master first, ourselves after, is the rule; and in this crisis, the cause before all else. We must make the rally here, or all will be lost—so Garcia and I are agreed—and that cannot be." "Do you think there’s a chance of holding a place like this against half-a-dozen regiments? Are you mad? Why the place would be tumbling about our ears in half-an-hour, and every soul inside would be either captured or killed." "And how could we die better? Your pardon if I speak bluntly and my words offend you, but anyone whose motive is what yours is may be forgiven if his judgment goes astray. A man with his heart in a woman’s heart makes an ill counsellor. You are right in your way to think first of the safety of the woman you love; but this is no woman’s matter. The thought of the senorita in peril of her life robs you of the power to think freely—we are all like that at such a time; but I for one can’t let it influence me now. I’m going to the town, and Garcia with me; and, with the Virgin’s help, we’ll rally enough to make a stand here. And if you’re afraid for her, get her away before we return." I liked him for his blunt outspokenness, and felt like a traitor as I gripped his hand and wrung it. "You have heard Juan’s news, and you go on a hopeless quest, friend. I cannot leave the senorita." "Get her away before we’re back—if you can, that is; for, like you, I’d sooner she was out of such a scene as, please the Saints, shall make the name of Calvarro’s farm ring through Spain; aye, and that before morning breaks, maybe."