The Adventures of Gerard Chapter 5 - How the Brigadier Captured Saragossa, Part 2

**Arthur Conan Doyle** (0:00)
Section 5 of The Adventures of Gerard This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
How the Brigadier Captured Saragossa Continued It was necessary to move with caution, for the walls above were lined by the Spanish sentries, who fired down continually at our advance posts. Slinking along under the very shadow of the Great Convent, we picked our way slowly and carefully among the piles of ruins, until we came to a large chestnut tree. Here the Sergeant stopped. It is an easy tree to climb, said he. A scaling ladder would not be simpler. Go up it, and you will find that the top branch will enable you to step upon the roof of that house. After that, it is your guardian angel who must be your guide, for I can help you no more. Girding up the heavy brown gown, I ascended the tree as directed. A half moon was shining brightly, and the line of roof stood out dark and hard against the purple starry sky. The tree was in the shadow of the house. Slowly I crept from branch to branch until I was near the top. I had but to climb along a stout limb in order to reach the wall. But suddenly my ears caught the patter of feet, and I cowered against the trunk and tried to blend myself with its shadow.
A man was coming toward me on the roof. I saw his dark figure creeping along, his body crouching, his head advanced, the barrel of his gun protruding. His whole bearing was full of caution and suspicion. Once or twice he paused, and then came on again, until he had reached the edge of the parapet, within a few yards of me. Then he knelt down, levelled his musket and fired.
I was so astonished at this sudden crash at my very elbow that I nearly fell out of the tree. For an instant I could not be sure that he had not hit me. But when I heard a deep groan from below, and the Spaniard leaned over the parapet and laughed aloud, I understood what had occurred. It was my poor faithful sergeant who had waited to see the last of me. The Spaniard had seen him standing under the tree and had shot him.
You will think that it was good shooting in the dark, but these people used trabucos, or blunderbusses, which were filled up with all sorts of stones and scraps of metal, so that they would hit you as certainly as I have hit a pheasant on a branch. The Spaniard stood peering down through the darkness, while an occasional groan from below showed that the sergeant was still living. The sentry looked round, and everything was still and safe.
Perhaps he thought that he would like to finish off this accursed Frenchman, or perhaps he had a desire to see what was in his pockets. But whatever his motive, he laid down his gun, leaned forward, and swung himself into the tree. The same instant I buried my knife in his body, and he fell with a loud crashing through the branches, and came with a thud to the ground. I heard a short struggle below, and an oath or two in French. The wounded sergeant had not waited long for his vengeance. For some minutes I did not dare to move, for it seemed certain that someone would be attracted by the noise. However, all was silent, save for the chimes striking midnight in the city. I crept along the branch and lifted myself onto the roof. The Spaniard's gun was lying there, but it was of no service to me, since he had the powder horn at his belt. At the same time, if it were found, it would warn the enemy that something had happened, so I thought it best to drop it over the wall. Then I looked round for the means of getting off the roof and down into the city.
It was very evident that the simplest way by which I could get down was that by which the sentinel had got up, and what this was soon became evident. A voice along the roof called, Manuello, Manuello! Several times, and crouching in the shadow, I saw in the moonlight a bearded head which protruded from a trap door.
Receiving no answer to his summons, the man climbed through, followed by three other fellows all armed to the teeth.
You will see here how important it is not to neglect small precautions, for had I left the man's gun where I found it, a search must have followed and I should certainly have been discovered. As it was, the patrols saw no sign of their sentry, and thought no doubt that he had moved along the line of the roofs. They hurried on, therefore, in that direction, and I, the instant that their backs were turned, rushed to the open trap door and descended the flight of steps which led from it. The house appeared to be an empty one, for I passed through the heart of it and out by an open door into the street beyond. It was a narrow and deserted lane, but it opened into a broader road which was dotted with fires, round which a great number of soldiers and peasants were sleeping.