ner did he behold Don Baltasar, closely followed by two soldiers with
fixed bayonets, than with his usual bold decision, and with his utmost
strength, he dashed the jug full at him. The missile struck the officer
on the chest with such force that he staggered back, and, for a moment,
impeded the advance of his followers. That moment saved Paco's
liberty--probably his life. Springing to the window, he leaped out, and
alighting upon one of the soldiers who had remained outside, knocked him
over. The other man, taken by surprise, made a feeble thrust at the
fugitive. Paco parried it with his arm, grappled the man, gave him a
kick on the shin that knocked his leg from under him, rolled him on the
ground by the side of his companion, and scudded down the street like a
hunted fox, just as Baltasar and his men jumped out of the window.

"Fire!" shouted the Colonel.

Two bullets, and then two more, struck the walls of the narrow sloping
street through which the muleteer ran, or buried themselves with a
_thud_ in the earth a short distance in front of him. Paco ran all the
faster, cleared the houses, and turning to his right, scampered down in
the direction of the town. The shouts and firing had spread an alarm in
the Carlist camp, the soldiers were turning out on all sides, and the
outposts on the alert. Paco approached the latter, and saw a sentinel in
a straight line between him and the town.

"_Quien vive?_" challenged the soldier, when the muleteer was still at a
considerable distance from him.

"_Carlos Quinto_," replied Paco.

"Halt!" thundered the sentry, bringing his musket to his shoulder with a
sharp quick rattle.

This command, although enforced by a menace, Paco was not disposed to
obey. For the one musket before him, there were hundreds behind him, and
he continued his onward course, merely inclining to his left, so as to
present a less easy mark than when bearing straight down upon the
sentry. Another "halt!" immediately followed by the report of the piece,
was echoed by a laugh of derision from Paco. "Stop him! bayonet him!"
shouted a score of voices in his rear. The sentinel rushed forward to
obey the command; but Paco, unarmed and unencumbered, was too quick for
him. Dashing past within a yard of the bayonet's point, he tore along to
the town, amidst a rain of bullets, encouraged by the cheers of the
Christinos, who had assembled in groups to watch the race; and, replying
to their shouts and applause by a