"Oh, those poor women!" cried Philip, as he spurred his horse towards the gate. "Now they are in the clutches of those fiends." "I'm glad we're not," muttered Dr. Grench, thankfully. "Anyhow," said Tim, cheerfully, "I've sent the fall of the city to the paper." "Oh, hang your paper," said Jack, whose wound was making him fractious. "Come along, De Ahumada." "Dios! How we have been beaten." Suddenly the street turned a sharp angle, and they found themselves before the gate. Most of the attacking party had marched towards the centre of the town to complete their victory, and only a few scattered soldiery were on guard. These yelled loudly as they saw the small party dash towards the gate. The valves were broken down; beyond was the country, and between this and safety was but a score of men. Philip drew his sword, spurred his horse to its full speed, and made for the gate, cutting down a man who tried to stay him. Jack emptied two barrels of his revolver, and killed one man, wounding another. The rebel soldiers fired freely, and breaking Sebastian's arm, also tumbled one of his company off his horse. Tim seizing Peter's bridle-rein, galloped wildly through the spare crowd, cursing freely. In their rush for the portal, they scattered them all. There were a few musket-shots, a howl of rage from the disappointed rebels, and at top speed they tore out of the gate, and made for the open country. "Twenty miles," cried Philip, settling himself in his saddle. "We can do that easily. Hurrah!" "Provided we don't fall into the hands of the Indians," said Jack, sagely. As for Don Sebastian, he turned round and shook his fist at Janjalla. "Carajo!" CHAPTER III. THE FLIGHT TO TLATONAC. Boot and saddle, away! away! We must be far e'er the breaking of day. The standard is down, The foe's in the town, Forbidding us longer to stay, to stay. Boot and saddle! we ride! we ride! Over the prairie land side by side, Our foemen behind, Speed swift as the wind, And gain on us steadily, stride by stride. Boot and saddle! so fast! so fast! We ride till the river be crossed and past; Then over the plain, With loose-hanging rein, And find ourselves safe in the town at last. Before them spread the plains, flat and desolate-looking, covered with coarse grass, and stretching towards the horizon in vague immensity. West-ward the faint flush of sunset, delicately pale, lingered low down, but otherwise the sky was coldly clear, darkly blue, thick sprinkled with chill-looking stars. To the right the leaden-hued waters of the river moving sluggishly between low mud banks, and on the left sandy wastes, alternating with hillocks and convex-shaped mounds. All this desolation appearing ghostly under a veil of mist exhaled whitely from the hot earth.