The general started back. His face turned red and his eyes dropped as a soldier handed him his sword. Estella gave her lover a grateful look, one that he long remembered. Then came a rush from outside, the tent was thrown down, the lanterns were extinguished, and in an instant Howard found himself in the midst of a body of Spanish soldiers, all bent upon either killing him or making him a prisoner. Although startled by the unexpected turn of affairs, the young war correspondent kept his wits about him, and fought long and well to save himself and a portion of his command, for his own soldiers were but a short distance away. At the first indication of a surprise, Captain Martinez had slipped away, and now he was also doing heroic work in rallying the surprised men. He was as brave and full of fire as Howard, and, between them they soon brought the men out of the panic, and then the battle began in earnest. The darkness favored the rebels, otherwise they would have been quickly decimated. But they knew the ground better than did their enemy, and withdrew to strongholds in vales and woods, and inside of an hour from the time the attack was commenced, the tide of the encounter turned, and the Spanish troops were on the defensive. Then came the reinforcements Captain Martinez had expected for an attack upon the place, and the soldiers of Spain were put to flight. It would be needless, in a tale like this, to relate the particulars of what followed. How the fighting was carried on all night, and how, at sunrise, the place itself was forced to surrender. The slaughter was great, but the victory was complete, and once again the rebels made an important advance in their victorious march westward. Long before the place was under complete subjection Howard set out to find Estella and her father. What had become of his sweetheart in that awful moment, when the tent was torn down, he could not imagine, and his heart was full of fears for her safety. On his return to headquarters, after a search lasting several hours, he chanced to pass by a long, low hospital tent, where that worthy institution which flourishes all over the civilized world--the Daughters of the Red Cross--were caring for the wounded and dying. He heard his name called by one of the nurses, and in a moment more he found himself in General Corona's presence. General Corona was wrapped in bandages, and his face was as pale as death itself. That he had suffered intensely was plainly evident. "They tell me I am dying," were his low, hoarse words which startled Howard. "I have been shot in three places. Where is my daughter?" "I do not know, General Corona. I have not seen her since we parted in the tent." The old man's eyes looked at the young war correspondent keenly for a moment. "You are telling the truth, Señor Sherwood?" "I swear it!" The general drew a short breath, then gave a gasp. "I--I believe you. You--you--are more of a man than I dreamed you were."