But even this warfare did not continue; for the supporting pillars of the veranda being of wood, and very dry, they were set fire to by the pirates. Gradually the flames wound round them, and their forked tongues licked the balustrade. At last the whole of the veranda was in flames. This was a great advantage to the attacking party, who could now distinguish the Spaniards without their being so clearly seen themselves. Many were killed and wounded. The smoke and heat became so intense in the upper story that the men could no longer remain there; and, by the advice of Francisco, they retreated to the basement of the house. 'What shall we do now, señor?' said Diego, with a grave face. 'Do?' replied Francisco; 'they have burnt the veranda, that is all. The house will not take fire; it is of solid stone: the roof indeed may; but still here we are. I do not see that they are more advanced than they were before. As soon as the veranda has burnt down, we must return above, and commence firing again from the windows.' 'Hark, sir! they are trying the door.' 'They may try a long while; they should have tried the door while the veranda protected them from our sight. As soon as it is burnt, we shall be able to drive them away from it. I will go up again and see how things are.' 'No, señor; it is of no use. Why expose yourself now that the flames are so bright?' 'I must go and see if that is the case, Diego. Put all the wounded men in the north chamber, it will be the safest, and more out of the way.' Francisco ascended the stone staircase, and gained the upper story. The rooms were filled with smoke, and he could distinguish nothing. An occasional bullet whistled past him. He walked towards the windows, and sheltered himself behind the wall between them. The flames were not so violent, and the heat more bearable. In a short time a crash, and then another, told him that the veranda had fallen in. He looked through the window. The mass of lighted embers had fallen down in front of the house, and had, for a time, driven away the assailants. Nothing was left of the veranda but the burning ends of the joists fixed in the wall above the windows, and the still glowing remains of the posts which once supported it. But the smoke from below now cleared away, and the discharge of one or two muskets told Francisco that he was perceived by the enemy. 'The roof is safe,' thought he, as he withdrew from the window; 'and now I do not know whether the loss of the veranda may not prove a gain to us.'