But Ruminavi saw it coming and sprang back so that the point only grazed his armour. The next instant Don Hernando was striding across the roof with de Soto and Carvahal hard after him. Meanwhile, too, another ladder had been hooked on and another stream of eager assailants were pouring on to the roof. Don Hernando, de Soto and Carvahal rushed together at Ruminavi while the new-comers were striking down the few defenders left, but not one of them could pass the circle which the terrible sweeps of the great mace made about him. Don Hernando’s sword was knocked flying from his grasp, another stroke took de Soto on the right shoulder and sent him reeling back among his followers. Then Carvahal ran in and took the head of the mace full on his jaw. “Carrajo!” he howled, reeling back and spitting out a mouthful of blood and broken teeth. “The curse of God upon thee and thy stolen steel!” And then he ran in again with a savage, sweeping stroke of his broad blade at Ruminavi’s thigh. But again the Spanish steel was met by the Spanish mail and the edge turned harmless off it and again Carvahal took a blow of the mace on his left shoulder which paralysed his buckler-arm and made even his mighty bulk tremble and reel backwards. By this time every other defender of the roof had been cut down or pierced through and through with sword and pike-thrusts, and now old Ruminavi was the only defender left. Don Hernando had picked up an axe in place of his lost sword, de Soto had shifted his sword to his left hand, and de Leon and a dozen more Spaniards were making ready for a last rush at the gallant old warrior. And now Ruminavi saw that the end had come. One swift glance over the corpse-strewn roof showed him that he alone was left, another at his closing enemies showed him that the trust he had so desperately defended was lost at last. He ran back to the parapet overlooking the city and leapt upon it and for the last time turned and looked round on his foes. “Save him! Save him! He is too gallant a man to die!” shouted Don Hernando springing forward towards him. The great mace swung round again and then like a stone from a catapult it whistled through the air, and taking Don Hernando full on the breast it sent him reeling backwards and hurled him prone on the roof. The next moment old Ruminavi drew himself up erect and, still without turning his back on his foes, sprang into the air. The next he was lying smashed out of all human shape on the stones five hundred feet below. The Spaniards rushed forward and leant over the battlements peering down into the fearful abyss. Then de Soto stood up and made the sign of the Cross and said in a choked, husky voice-- “Heathen or not, comrades, a stark warrior and a good patriot! May God receive his gallant soul in peace. Amen!” EPILOGUE