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'
"The rattle of musketry from the fort nearly drowned his voice. The
palisade was wreathed in smoke and flame.
"'Exert your force forward against the recoil, mi amo,' said the old
gunner, shakily. 'Dig your fingers into the ground. So. Now!'
"A cry of exultation escaped him after the shot. The trumpeter raised
his trumpet nearly to his lips and waited. But no word came from the
prostrate man. I fell on one knee, and heard all he had to say then.
"'Something broken,' he whispered, lifting his head a little, and
turning his eyes towards me in his hopelessly crushed attitude.
"'The gate hangs only by the splinters,' yelled Jorge.
"Gaspar Ruiz tried to speak, but his voice died out in his throat, and I
helped to roll the gun off his broken back. He was insensible.
"I kept my lips shut, of course. The signal for the Indians to attack
was never given. Instead, the bugle-calls of the relieving force for
which my ears had thirsted so long, burst out, terrifying like the call
of the Last Day to our surprised enemies.


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