But this time, alas! I was without revolver, or pistol of any kind. Not dreaming of danger at that early hour of the day, I had sallied forth, wearing only my parade sword. With this fickle weapon I could not possibly defend myself against half a score of men armed with thin long-bladed _machetes_. Grasping its hilt was like leaning upon a reed. I thought of Francisco of again throwing myself upon his protection. But which of the fifty dwellings was his? Even could I have told the right one, would I have time to reach it, or would he be at home? There was a chance that he might be--that he might hear my cries, and come out. It was so slight as to seem hopeless; and yet I clutched at it, as a drowning man at a straw! Shouting, I retreated along the street--in what I believed to be the direction of his dwelling. I am not ashamed to acknowledge, that I called loudly for help--coupling my calls with the name of Francisco Moreno. A man, with death staring him in the teeth, may be excused for dropping a trifle of his dignity. I shouted like a respectable shopkeeper attacked by a gang of garotters. The Street of the Sparrows was fatal to me only in promise; and for the second time fortune favoured my escape from it. Help came; though not from the quarter so loudly solicited. Francisco's door remained shut; at least it was not opened by him. It was thrown open by a score of Red Hats, who at that moment appeared entering the street. At any other time the sight of these sanguinary allies would have caused me a thrill of antagonism. Now they seemed saints--as they proved saviours! They had shown themselves in the nick of time. Carrasco and his compeers were close behind me--so close that the points of their _machetes_ were within six inches of my spine. On espying the Red Hats they retreated in the opposite direction--going off even faster than they had been following me! Seeing myself disembarrassed of the danger, I advanced to meet my preservers. I had no idea of what they could be doing there; until I saw them stop in front of a house--where they demanded admittance. The demand was made in a rude manner, and in terms of an unmistakeable determination to enter. As no one opened the door, they commenced hammering upon it with the butts of their _escopetas_; for several of them were armed with this weapon. The door finally gave way--having yielded at the hinges--and, swinging round, stood partially ajar. Not till then had I the slightest suspicion of what the Red Hats were after. Some "bit of burglary," I supposed, done in open day; for there was no reason to think the contrary. I could see they were a straggling lot--out on their own account, and without authority. I was not enlightened about their object, till I saw the face of Francisco Moreno behind the half-opened door, scowlingly confronting them! It was his house; though I had not before recognised it.