In all directions they turned and fled, the sailors in their eagerness dashing after them and cutting them down. The scene of the fight was a ghastly sight now. All around lay the dead and dying, and every minute added fresh victims to the list. But now the men were recalled from the pursuit of the flying enemy to resume the main purpose for which they had landed. This was to attack and capture the fort and silence the guns. Up the steep ascent they toiled, protected from harm by the trees which covered the slope. As they drew nearer the batteries, they saw that an almost impossible task was before them. The walls of the fort were steep and high. The sailors had no scaling ladder with them. How, then, could they hope to make a successful attack? This was the problem that confronted Lieut. Tyler. "Faith, we can jump it!" cried Dan. "Then you're wasting your time in the navy if that's so, Dan," laughed Young Glory. "A man who can clear fifteen feet ought to go in for athletics." There was no holding the men back. Furiously they rushed forward, leaving the shelter of the trees to assail the fort. Bang, bang! The Spaniards had them at their mercy now. They fired from the rampart at the helpless men below. "Back!" shouted Lieutenant Tyler. "Back, I say! This is folly!" It needed no more talking to show this. Already in this brief attack the men had sustained a heavier loss than in all the fighting of the day. "Where's Young Glory?" was the cry. There was a look of dismay on everyone's face as they glanced round and saw that he was missing. "The boy gone!" cried Dan, frantically. "Arrah, then, it's meself's goin' too!" And breaking away from those who tried to hold him, Dan fairly flew till he came to the spot beneath the fort where his comrades had just fallen. "Not there!" he cried. "It's a prisoner he is! An' shure, how could they take him prisoner? It's not one of them Spaniards has ventured out. An', begorra, he wouldn't be afther takin' himself prisoner!" Dismissing this last idea as unreasonable, Dan, who had miraculously escaped the enemy's bullets, ran back to his comrades. "It's the last we've seen of him." Now, where was Young Glory? In the attack that had been made on the fort the boy had been at the extreme right--that is, the point of view nearest the sea. Whilst his comrades were aimlessly throwing themselves against the walls of the fort, Young Glory was otherwise engaged. He had seen a figure emerge from the fort and glide amongst the trees at some distance away. Quick as lightning Young Glory did the same. He stole along towards the spot where the Spaniard had secreted himself, and there was a look on the boy's face that spoke volumes. "It is he!" he muttered. "I only saw him for an instant, but it's a face I never forgot." Bang! A man sprang forth, pistol in hand, and fired. As he did so he laughed defiantly. "Good-by, Young Glory!" "You villain, I am not dead yet, as you shall see, Jose Castro!"