"We will all sleep on our pistols. Now listen. All we can do is to
protect the gates. If you ring once that means that the Indians are
advancing on the south gate, the one nearest the rancheria. But they
are crafty, and will doubtless seek to enter by one less guarded. Two
peals will mean the west gate, three the east, and a wild irregular
clamour the north. Can you remember?"
"I can, my father," said Roldan, proudly.
"I believe you. Go up into the tower at sundown, which is the hour when
the gates are closed. As soon as you have finished ringing you can come
down and join in the fight. The arms will be kept in the room where we
sat yesterday until your meal was made ready. Now go, my son, and God
bless you. Ah!" he called after him. "Wait a moment. Get a cassock and
put it on. It will make you shapeless among the bells. Otherwise you
might be seen."
Roldan was at his post as soon as the Indians had been driven through
the gates for the night. They straggled about the valley, still talking
excitedly; but there was nothing unusual in this, the watcher had been
told. Gradually they moved toward the rancheria, disappeared into it,
and the valley was as quiet as it had been the night before.
In the great court there were rifts of light at irregular intervals;
the heavy wooden shutters of every window were ajar. Roldan felt the
nervous tension of those minds below, and with it a sense of
companionship, very different from the oppressive loneliness of his
previous watch.
The clock of the Mission had just struck eleven when Roldan stood
suddenly erect and hooped his hands about his eyes. Something was
moving in the willows beside the river. The moon shone full on the
rancheria, and when the outer edge of the latter appeared to broaden
and project itself the effect was noticeable at once.
Roldan watched breathlessly. In a moment there could no longer be any
doubt: a broad compact something was moving down the valley toward the
Mission. And an army of cats could not have made less sound.
He laid his hand on the bell rope. The Indians came swiftly, but their
course was not yet defined. When within a hundred yards of the Mission
they deflected suddenly to the right. Their destination was not the
south gate.
Roldan closed his eyes for a half moment to relieve them of the strain,
then opened them and held his breath. Only the outer fringe of the
little army could now be seen; it was crawling close to the western
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