‘Yes,’ said the General, after a moment’s reflection, ‘that is a good idea, and will gain time. But let them first bring their fuel and set it up. Every moment is a gain.’
At this instant some humorist in the crowd threw a stone in at the open window. The old priest picked up the missile and examined it curiously.
‘It is fortunate,’ he said, ‘that the stones are fixed in Toledo. In Xeres they are loose, and are always in the air. I wonder if I can hit a citizen.’ And he threw the stone back.
‘Close the shutters,’ said the General. ‘Let us avoid arousing ill-feeling.’
The priest drew the jalousies together, but did not quite shut them. Vincente stood and looked out through the aperture at the moonlit square and the dark shadows moving there.
‘I wish they would shout,’ he said. ‘It is unnatural. They are like children. When there is noise there is little mischief.’
Then he remained silent for some minutes, watching intently. All in the room noted his every movement. At length he turned on his heel.
‘Go, my friend,’ he said to Conyngham. ‘Form your men in the Calle de la Ciudad, and charge round in line. Do not place yourself too much in advance of your men, or you will be killed, and remember—the point! Resist the temptation to cut—the point is best.’
He patted Conyngham on the arm affectionately, as if he were sending him to bed with a good wish, and accompanied him to the door.
‘I knew,’ he said, returning to the window and rubbing his hands together, ‘that that was a good man the first moment I saw him.’
He glanced at Estella, and then, turning, opened another window, setting the shutters ajar so as to make a second point of observation.
‘My poor child,’ he whispered, as she went to the window and looked out, ‘it is an ill-fortune to have to do with men whose trade this is.’
Estella smiled—a little whitely—and said nothing. The moon was now shining from an almost cloudless sky. The few fleecy remains of the storm sailing towards the east only added brightness to the night. It was almost possible to see the faces of the men moving in the square below, and to read their expressions. The majority stood in a group in the centre of the Plaza, while a daring few, reckoning on the Spanish aversion to firearms, ran forward from time to time and set a bundle of wood or straw against the door beneath the balcony.