Two of the soldiers followed, and promptly closed the door when on the right side. At once the rebels commenced to beat it down with the butts of their rifles, but the Irishman and his friend had reached the back street.

Here they found their friends already mounted and waiting for them.

"Tim. De Ahumada! Mount at once!" cried Philip, pointing to three horses waiting under the shelter of the wall. "Make for the land-gate, and straight for the river."

In another moment they were clattering towards the lower part of the town, keeping close together for safety. The street down which they were riding was quite deserted, as the fighting was principally confined to the main thoroughfares of the town. They could hear the brisk fire of musketry still kept up, the booming of the cannon, and the bursting of the shells. Shrieks of women, and yells of the victors broke incessantly through these noises, and the whole city was draped in a thick veil of stinking smoke.

"Oh, those poor women!" cried Philip, as he spurred his horse towards the gate. "Now they are in the clutches of those fiends."

"I'm glad we're not," muttered Dr. Grench, thankfully.

"Anyhow," said Tim, cheerfully, "I've sent the fall of the city to the paper."

"Oh, hang your paper," said Jack, whose wound was making him fractious. "Come along, De Ahumada."

"Dios! How we have been beaten."

Suddenly the street turned a sharp angle, and they found themselves before the gate. Most of the attacking party had marched towards the centre of the town to complete their victory, and only a few scattered soldiery were on guard. These yelled loudly as they saw the small party dash towards the gate. The valves were broken down; beyond was the country, and between this and safety was but a score of men.

Philip drew his sword, spurred his horse to its full speed, and made for the gate, cutting down a man who tried to stay him. Jack emptied two barrels of his revolver, and killed one man, wounding another. The rebel soldiers fired freely, and breaking Sebastian's arm, also tumbled one of his company off his horse. Tim seizing Peter's bridle-rein, galloped wildly through the spare crowd, cursing freely.

In their rush for the portal, they scattered them all. There were a few musket-shots, a howl of rage from the disappointed rebels, and at top speed they tore out of the gate, and made for the open country.

"Twenty miles," cried Philip, settling himself in his saddle. "We can do that easily. Hurrah!"

"Provided we don't fall into the hands of the Indians," said Jack, sagely.

As for Don Sebastian, he turned round and shook his fist at Janjalla.

"Carajo!"

  CHAPTER III.

THE FLIGHT TO TLATONAC.