said Cousin Peligros, while they were still at the table,
"that the sound of firing approaches. I have a very delicate hearing. All
my senses are very highly developed. The sound of the firing is nearer,
Marcos."

"Zeneta is retreating slowly before the enemy, with his small force,"
explained Marcos.

"But why is he doing that? He must surely know that there are ladies at
Torre Garda."

"Ladies are not articles of war," said Juanita with a frivolous disregard
of Cousin Peligros' reproving face. "And this is war."

As she spoke Marcos rose and quitted the room after glancing at his
watch. Juanita followed him.

"Marcos," she said, in the hall, having closed the dining-room door
behind her. "Will you tell me what time it will begin?"

"Zeneta is timed to retreat across the bridge at three o'clock. The enemy
will, it is hoped, follow him."

"And where will you be?"

"I shall be with Pacheco and his staff on the hill behind Pedro's mill.
You will see a little flag wherever Pacheco is."

Cousin Peligros' delicate hearing had not been deceived. The firing was
now close at hand. The valley takes a turn to the left below the ridge
and upon the hillside above this corner the white irregular line of smoke
now became visible.

In a few minutes the dark mass of Zeneta's men appeared on the road at
the corner. He was before his time. The men were running. They raised the
dust like a troop of sheep and moved in a halo of it. Every hundred yards
they stopped and fired a volley. They were acting with perfect regularity
and from a distance looked like toy soldiers. They were retreating in
good order and the sound of their volleys came at regular intervals. On
the bridge they halted. They were going to make a stand here, as would
seem natural. Had they had artillery they could have effectually held
this strong and narrow place.

It now became apparent that they were a woefully small detachment. They
could not spare men to take up positions on the rocky hillside behind
them.

There was a pause. The Carlists were waiting for their skirmishers to
come in from heights above the road.

Sarrion and Juanita stood at the edge of the terrace. Sarrion was
watching with a quick and comprehensive glance.

"Is General Pacheco a good general?" asked Juanita.

"Excellent."

Sarrion did not comment further on this successful soldier.

"They played me false," the General had told him indignantly a few hours
earlier. "They promised