But a stubborn opposition would have been less disastrous than this victory. Already a trumpet was sounding, alarmingly close at hand. In quick realization, Cristoval rushed after his men, ordering them back, collaring a few whom he was able to overtake, only partly successful in staying the chase. Before he ceased he saw the dim lights of the open square a few steps distant, heard the shouts of the startled Spaniards and the uproar of moving cavalry. The Antis in front, aware of their peril, came flying back, and he joined their retreat just as a party of horse entered the head of the street. It was a dash, now, for life. Cristoval noted the interval before the trot behind broke into a gallop. Weighted by his armor, his speed was slow, and he heard the Antis pass him in the darkness. The street was clamoring with the din of hoofs, nearing every instant. He stumbled over a prostrate form and almost fell; recovered, and sped on. The fleet Antis had left him far behind, and he was flying alone with death at his back. Now the troop was almost upon him. He was lost!—No! A doorway! He flung himself into its shadow headlong, and the charging column went past with a roar that shook the earth. By the grace of Heaven, he had not been seen. Or, if seen by the foremost troopers, those behind had forced them past, and for a moment he was safe. For a moment only, for infantry would follow; and as the last files thundered by he staggered to his feet and hurried after. Ahead was the broad thoroughfare where he had stood with Rimachi, and in its light he could see the glint of the helmets of the troop. An instant, and they had vanished into the darkness beyond. Could he cross the lighted space unseen? He was panting with the weight of his steel and the previous exertion, and his pace slackened. When he reached the corner he was stumbling and plunging with weariness, and he paused to breathe and reconnoitre before venturing to cross. Toward the Tullamayu he heard the uproar of the still receding troop, and a glance up and down the lighted street showed him that all had kept on in that direction. But behind was the rushing of many feet. The infantry were following. He dashed across the open, conscious of the fierce glare in the north, already perceptibly more intense, and gained the farther obscurity. He remembered the open doorways, and struggled forward with desperation. As he turned into the shelter of one of them at last, a glance over his shoulder showed him morions gleaming in the firelight at the crossing.