The detachment I was with pushed forward
into the town. The streets were empty, but brilliantly illuminated,
and no person was to be seen; yet a low buzz and whisper was heard
around; lattices were now and then opened, and from time to time shots
were fired from underneath the doors by the Spaniards--"
"The French, you mean," said Lady Mabel.
"No; the Spaniards," persisted Cranfield. "And perhaps our talking
friend there was one of them."
"Don Alonso is an Andalusian and a patriot," said Lady Mabel; "and I
will not have him so traduced."
"Be it so," replied Cranfield. "It is lucky for your patriot that he
was not here. However, the troops, with bugles sounding, advanced up
yonder street into this square, and we captured several mules going
with ammunition to the trenches. But the square was empty and silent
as the streets, and the houses as bright with lamps; a terrible
enchantment seemed to be in operation; for we saw nothing but light,
and heard nothing but the low whispers around us, while the tumult at
the breach was like the crashing thunder. There, though the place was
already carried on two sides, by Picton's column and ours, the
murderous conflict still raged; we still heard the shots, and shouts,
and infernal uproar, while hundreds and hundreds fell and died after
fierce assault and desperate resistance were alike vain.
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