He laid his hand on the bell rope. The Indians came swiftly, but their
course was not yet defined. When within a hundred yards of the Mission
they deflected suddenly to the right. Their destination was not the
south gate.
Roldan closed his eyes for a half moment to relieve them of the strain,
then opened them and held his breath. Only the outer fringe of the
little army could now be seen; it was crawling close to the western
wall. In a few moments they were beneath Roldan; he could hear the
slight impact with the air. Then once more he strained his eyes until he
thought they would fly from his head, and his lungs seemed bursting.
They were approaching the west gate.
They passed it. There could be no doubt now that they purposed to attack
the north gate; but Roldan dared not ring until they were well away from
the west side, lest they change their plans and his signal mislead.
As they reached the corner of the wall they suddenly accelerated their
pace as if impatience mastered them. When the tail of the procession had
whisked about and Roldan saw a compact mass move like a black cloud
before the wind toward the north gate, he caught the rope in both hands
and jangled with all his might.
Pages:
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77