the cartridges, though only valued at half price, still possessed such a value in their eyes as to prevent them from being prodigally expended.
I opened the door of the terrace with all imaginable prudence, and stole along, protected by a wall which ran round the azotea, and got behind one of the pilasters, which rose turret-like at regular intervals.[1] I had a telescope in my hand.
"What are you going to do with that glass?" inquired Don Blas.
"Why, I never go to the theatre without my glass not even to a bull-fight. Should I have forgotten it when I am come to secure the best place for seeing the gigantic efforts of the combatants on both sides."
The future captain seemed to look with an eye of envy upon the place in which I found myself in such perfect security. I could clearly discern from my terrace even the quadrangle of the palace and the adjacent streets. The national flag floated no longer from the roof of that building, and the president found himself a prisoner in his own abode. At the opposite angle of the building, through the grated windows of the prison, which formed part of the palace, I espied the heads of the prisoners, who were furious with excitement. The troops which had remained faithful to the cause of Bustamente were ranged upon the grand square, officers went and came, giving their orders, and cannon-wheels rumbled upon the pavement, while the distant booming of the heavy guns, and the white smoke which rose in dense massy clouds behind the houses, showed that, in those streets which were hidden from my view, a fierce engagement was going on.
- ↑ Since the time of the Spaniards, these turrets or almenas denoted the house of a nobleman.
