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At about eleven in the night the two parties, under Valentine and Captain de Laville, set out in different directions: the count soon followed them with the main body and the baggage, so that by midnight the camp was entirely deserted. Curumilla had not deceived the count. After about two hours' march he made the troops wheel to the right, and entered a narrow path, in which there was just room for the vehicles, and the whole company disappeared in the infinite windings of a true wild beast's track, in which it was impossible to suppose that an armed body, accompanied by numerous and heavy wagons and field pieces, would ever venture.

Still, when the first obstacles were overcome, this road, which appeared so difficult, offered no serious causes for delay, and the Frenchmen pushed on rapidly. Two days after they were rejoined by the detachments which had operated on their flank. Captain de Laville and Valentine had been completely successful in deceiving the general, whose advanced post still continued to guard the roads, little suspecting that they had been turned.

This march lasted nine days, through numberless difficulties, over shifting sand which fled beneath the feet, under a parching heat with no water, and, during the last two days, with no provisions or forage. But nothing could lessen the courage of the men, or destroy their inexhaustible gaiety: they went on bravely, keeping their eyes fixed on their chief, who went on foot before them, consoling and encouraging them. On the evening of the ninth day they saw in the distance, in the centre of a well-wooded landscape, the outlines of a considerable hacienda. It was the first house they had come across since leaving La Magdalena.

"What hacienda is that?" Don Louis asked Belhumeur, who walked by his side.

"The Hacienda del Milagro," the Canadian answered.

The Frenchmen uttered a shout of joy: they had arrived. They had marched sixty leagues in nine days, along almost impracticable roads.

Curumilla had kept his promise. Thanks to him, the column had not been molested.

CHAPTER XX
BEFORE THE ATTACK

When within gunshot of the hacienda the count commanded a halt.

"De Laville," he said to the captain, "push on ahead, and occupy the hacienda in force: we shall have our headquarters there."

"What is the use of that?" Belhumeur asked. "Did you not put faith in my words, then? Don Rafaël and his family will be delighted to receive you and greet you with open arms."

The count smiled, and bent down to the Canadian's ear.

"My friend Belhumeur," he said to him in a low voice, "you are a child who will understand nothing. I take these precautions which grieve you so much, not for my own sake, but on behalf of our friends. Supposing, as may be unfortunately the case, that we are beaten by the Mexicans – what will happen then? That Don Rafaël will inevitably fall a victim to the sympathy he has evinced for us; while, by acting as I do, he bows to force, and the Mexican authorities will be unable, in spite of all their desire, to render him responsible for our stay at his house."

"That is true," the Canadian answered, struck by the logic of this reasoning.

"Still," Don Louis continued, "in order to avoid any misunderstanding, you will accompany the captain, and while he is talking loudly you can whisper to our friends what the reason is."

Five minutes later the detachment started at a gallop, followed presently by the rest of the column. All took place as the count had arranged. Warned by Belhumeur, Don Rafaël protested energetically against the forced occupation of the hacienda, and feigned only to yield to superior force. The estate was definitively occupied, and Don Rafaël mounted with some of his servants, in order to go and meet the column; but, by the count's orders, it did not stop at the hacienda, but pushed on and camped about two leagues from Hermosillo.

The count and Rafaël met, not like strangers to each other, but as old friends delighted at meeting again, and entered the hacienda, conversing in a low voice. Before dismounting, the count sent off couriers and scouts in every direction, in order to have certain news about the enemy; and only keeping with him an escort of eight men, he sent the others to the bivouac, and entered the hacienda.

Don Ramon, Don Rafaël's father, and Doña Luz, that amiable woman whose touching history we told in a previous story,⁴ were waiting, surrounded by their servants, the arrival of the Frenchmen at the door of the hacienda.

"You are welcome, valiant combatants for the independence of Sonora," General Don Ramon said as he held out his hand to the count.

The latter leaped from his horse.

"May God grant that I may be as fortunate as you have been, general!" he replied with a bow. Then, turning to Doña Luz, "Pardon me, madam," he said to her, "for having come to trouble your peaceful retreat: your husband is alone to blame for the indiscretion I am committing at this moment."

"Señor conde," she answered with a smile, "do not make such excuses: this house and all it contains belong to you. We see your arrival with joy – we shall witness your departure with sorrow."

The count offered his arm to Doña Luz, and they entered the hacienda. But the count was restless – his glance wandered incessantly.

"Patience!" Don Rafaël said to him with a meaning smile; "you will see her. It would have been imprudent for her to appear sooner, so we prevented her."

"Thanks!" the count said; and the cloud which obscured his noble face disappeared at once.

The interview of the two lovers was as it should be; that is to say, calm, affectionate, and deeply felt. The count warmly thanked Father Seraphin for the protection he had accorded the maiden.

"Ere long," Doña Luz said, "all your torments will be ended, and you will be able to yield to the passionate emotions of your heart without constraint."

"Yes," the count answered pensively, "tomorrow will probably decide my fate, and that of the woman I love."

"What do you mean?" Don Rafaël exclaimed.

The count looked anxiously around him: he saw that he could speak, and that those who pressed toward him were sincere friends.

"Tomorrow," he said, "I shall attack Hermosillo and take it, or fall dead in the breach."

All present were in a state of stupor. Don Rafaël made Black Elk a sign to stand outside the door to keep off all comers, and then returned to the count.

"Have you really that idea?" he asked him.

"Were it not so, should I be here?" he said simply.

"But," Don Rafaël continued urgently, "Hermosillo is an inclosed town with strong walls."

"I will force them."

"It has a garrison of 1200 men."

"Ah!" he said indifferently.

"For two months the militia have been exercised daily."

"Militia!" he replied with a disdainful air. "I suppose, at any rate, they are numerous?"

"About 3000 men."

"All the better."

"General Guerrero, who has at length discovered that his flank was turned, has thrown himself into the city with 6000 Indians, and is awaiting other reinforcements."

"That is the reason, my friend, why I must attack at once. I have already, according to your calculation, opposed to me 11,000 men, intrenched behind good walls. The longer I wait, the more numerous they will grow; and if I do not take care," he added with a laugh, "that army will end by growing so considerable that it will be impossible for me to destroy it."

"You are perhaps unaware, my friend, that Hermosillo is surrounded by market gardens, which render the approaches almost impracticable?"

"Believe me, my good friend," the count replied carelessly, "I shall enter by the gates."

The company gazed on the count with an amazement akin to terror. They looked at each other, and seemed to be asking whether they had not to deal with a maniac.

"Pardon me, my friend," Don Rafaël continued, "but I think you said that you intended to attack tomorrow?"

"Certainly."

"But supposing your troops have not arrived?"

"What! my troops not arrived? Did not you see them march past the hacienda an hour ago?"

"Yes, I saw a small detachment pass – your vanguard, of course."

"My vanguard!" the count exclaimed with a laugh. "No, my good friend, that small detachment forms my entire army."

Don Rafaël, Don Ramon, and, the other persons present were men of recognised courage. On several occasions they had sustained giant combats against enemies tenfold in number; in short, they had furnished proof of the most extravagant courage and most insane temerity. But the count's eccentric proposition of going coolly with a handful of adventurers to take a city defended by 10,000 men seemed to them so extraordinary and so incredible, that they remained dumb for a moment, hardly knowing whether they were awake or suffering from a frightful nightmare.

"Tell me, my friend," Don Rafaël exclaimed, his arguments quite exhausted, "how many men can you deploy in line?"

"Hang it! not many," the count said with a smile, "I have invalids: still I can dispose of about two hundred and fifty, and I hope they will be sufficient."

"Yes," Doña Angela said enthusiastically, "they will be sufficient, for the cause these men defend is holy, and God will protect them."

"Don Rafaël," the count said simply, "have you ever heard of what is called the furia Francese?"

"Yes, but I confess to you that I do not exactly understand what it is."

"Well," he added, "wait till tomorrow, and when you have seen this formidable army crushed, destroyed, and dispersed like autumn leaves by the wind; when you have been present at the capture of Hermosillo, you will know what furia Francese is, and understand the prodigies of valour which history has recorded, and Frenchmen perform almost in sport."

The conversation ended here, and they proceeded to the dining room, where the refreshments, of which the count stood in such need, had been prepared. So soon as they rose from table the count asked leave to retire to the apartment prepared for him, and begged Father Seraphin to follow him. They remained for a long time shut up, talking ear to ear. When the missionary came out his eyes were red, and traces of tears furrowed his pale cheeks. The count pressed his hand.

"So, then," he said, "in case of a mishap – "

"I will be there, count, trust me;" and he retired slowly.

During the evening, and, indeed, far into the night, the count listened to the reports of his scouts and spies: the news they brought coincided in every respect with the information imparted by Don Rafaël. General Guerrero had hurried to Hermosillo, where he was securely intrenched.

Valentine and Curumilla were the last to arrive; but they were not the bearers of bad news. Valentine, at the head of a party of foragers, had, by Curumilla's advice, advanced along the Guaymas road, and surprised a convoy of provisions and ammunition intended for the Mexicans. This had been taken to the camp by the hunter's care, and was warmly welcomed by the Frenchmen, whose stock of food, as we have seen, was entirely exhausted. Captain de Laville, for his part, had surprised three or four of the enemy's patrols, which had imprudently advanced too far. The count sent Curumilla to the captain with orders to take advantage of the darkness of the night to advance, and push on his advanced posts to within a gun-shot and a half of the town.

When alone with Valentine he spread out a plan of Hermosillo on the table, and both bending over it, began studying it attentively. We have already described Hermosillo several times: we will limit ourselves to saying that the market gardens by which that city is surrounded are inclosed with walls, behind which it is easy to place tirailleurs, whom the nature of the ground enables to fall back from post to post, constantly protected by the walls, which are about three feet in thickness, and built of adobas. In addition, on the side on which the count was marching, a wide and deep ditch, which could only be traversed by means of a bridge, at the end of which a strong body of troops was doubtless posted, formed an almost impregnable defence.

As may be seen from our description, Hermosillo is far from being an open town, which can be seized without striking a blow; and, in attempting to carry it at the head of 250 men, the Count de Prébois Crancé, if he succeeded, might justly flatter himself on having accomplished one of the greatest exploits of modern times.

General Guerrero, according to the reports of the scouts, and the Mexican officers under his command, affected a superb contempt for these naked-footed Frenchmen, as they called them, and promised to give them so rough a lesson that they would not feel disposed to begin again. Curumilla, however, had brought back a piece of news which could not fail to give the count hopes. In spite of the immense preparations he had made, against the company, General Guerrero had been so surprised by the news of its hurried march on Hermosillo, and the daring manner in which it had turned its advanced posts, that, in his hurry to go to the aid of the menaced city, he had been constrained to leave behind him the greater part of his forces, and the city, in reality, only contained twelve or fifteen hundred defenders, doubtlessly a very large number, but much less than the count had expected to find.

Curumilla had peacefully entered the city. His being an Indian served as his safeguard, and he had seen, visited, and examined everything. This news the Araucano brought back on reporting to the count the execution of the orders sent through him to Captain de Laville. The count and the hunter rubbed their hands, and hastened to make their final arrangements.

Among the hacenderos present at the conference of La Magdalena was one whose influence was immense upon the pueblos. It was the man who, in the name of his countrymen, had assured the count that, so soon as an important town had fallen into the hands of the French, the signal for revolt should be given, and the country roused in a few days, in order to effect a decisive diversion. Don Louis, not wishing to lose a moment, and in the certainty of success, wrote him a letter in which, after announcing to him the fall of Hermosillo, he urged him to be ready to support him, and give the signal for insurrection.

We mention this fact to prove not only that the count believed himself sure of succeeding, but also foresaw everything with that sublime intuition only possessed by men of genius.

The letter written, and the last arrangements made, the count and Valentine left the room. It was about two in the morning: the sky was gloomy, and warm gusts coming from the desert bowed down the leafy crowns of the trees.

The two foster brothers went down into the patio, where all the inhabitants of the hacienda had assembled to salute the count on his departure. Doña Angela, wrapped up in a long white dressing gown, with pallid face and eyes filled with tears, looked like a phantom in the glare of the torches shaken by the peons. The escort had mounted and sat motionless. Curumilla held the horses of the two Frenchmen. When they appeared, all raised their hats and saluted with a deep and respectful bow.

"Farewell, Don Louis," Don Rafaël said to him. "May Heaven grant you the victory!"

"May Heaven grant you the victory," Don Ramon repeated, "for you are fighting for the independence of a people!"

"Never were more fervent prayers offered up than we shall make for you, Don Louis," Doña Luz then said.

The count felt his heart contract.

"I thank you all," he said with much emotion. "Your wishes do me good: they prove to me that among the Sonorians there are some who comprehend my noble object. Thanks once again."

Doña Angela came up to the count.

"Don Louis," she said to him, "I love you. Do your duty."

The count bent down to her, and imprinted a kiss on her pale forehead.

"Doña Angela, my affianced!" he said with a tenderness impossible to render, "you will see me again either a conqueror or a corpse."

And he made a move as if to depart. At this moment Father Seraphin came to his side.

"What!" he said with surprise, "do you accompany me, my father?"

"I am going where duty calls me, sir," the missionary replied with that angelic simplicity which was so characteristic of him – "where I shall find pain to console, misfortunes to alleviate. Let me follow you."

Louis pressed his hand silently, and after bowing once again to the friends he was leaving, perhaps for ever, he gave the signal for departure, and the cavalcade soon disappeared in the darkness.

Doña Angela remained cold and motionless in the doorway so long as she could hear the horses' hoofs echoing on the road. When every sound had died away in the distance a long-restrained sob burst from her.

"Heavens, heavens!" she exclaimed in despair, and stretching out her hands to the sky. Then she fell back in a fainting fit. Doña Luz and Don Rafaël hastened to her aid, and carried her into the hacienda, where they eagerly tried to restore her to consciousness. Belhumeur tossed his head several times, and prepared to shut the gate of the hacienda.

"Not yet," a voice said to him; "let us go out first."

"Eh, what?" he said. "Where the deuce do you want to go at this hour, Black Elk?

"To tell you the truth," the hunter answered, "I am almost a Frenchman, since I am a Canadian, and so I am going to help my countrymen."

"Halloh!" Belhumeur exclaimed, struck by these words, "that's not a bad idea. By Jove! you shall not go alone; I will accompany you."

"All the better; then there will be three of us."

"How three? Who else is coming with us?"

"Eagle-head, by Jove! The chief says there are down there some Indians, enemies of his nation, whom he should like to have a set-to with."

"Let us be off, then. I believe that the count will be pleased to have three fighting men more, like us, in his company."

"By Jove! I should think so," Belhumeur said.

"I do not care," Black Elk remarked, "whatever you may say, he is a fine fellow. What do you think about him, you who know him, eh?"

"Tough as hickory," the Canadian answered intrepidly.

Without further commentary the three bold hunters mounted and proceeded in the track of the count.

CHAPTER XXI
THE CAPTURE OF HERMOSILLO

Although the horses ridden by the count's escort were good, the hunters were mounted on such fast mustangs that they caught up Don Louis within twenty minutes of his leaving the hacienda. On hearing hurried footfalls behind them, the Frenchmen, not knowing who could be coming like a tornado after them, bravely wheeled round; but Belhumeur prevented any misunderstanding by making himself known.

"You are welcome, you and your companions, Belhumeur," the count said to him. "But what urgent reason compels you to gallop so late along the roads?"

"A service I want to ask of you, Don Louis," the Canadian frankly replied.

"A service! Speak, my friend: whatever it may be, if it depends on me, it is granted before asking."

"What I want does depend on you."

"What is it?"

"My comrades and myself wish to have the honour of fighting by your side tomorrow."

"Is that the service you had to ask of me, Belhumeur?"

"Yes, and no other."

"Then you are mistaken, my friend: you mean to say a service to render me. I heartily accept your proposition, and thank you for it cordially."

"Then that is arranged. You admit us into your ranks?"

"By Jove! I should be mad not to do so."

Belhumeur informed his friends of the success of his negotiation, and they rejoiced at it as if they had received the handsomest possible present. After this slight incident, the party, increased by the three new recruits, went onwards. The Frenchmen trotted on in the darkness like a troop of silent phantoms, bending over the necks of their horses, eagerly questioning the sounds that rose from the desert, and sounding the gloom in order to obtain some sign that they were approaching their comrades.

Captain Charles de Laville, though still very young, seemed predestined for the part he was playing at this moment. His glance was infallible, both as superior chief and as a subordinate leader: he not only understood with extreme rapidity the orders he received, but seized their meaning and carried them out with rare intelligence.⁵ The count had not been in error for a moment about de Laville's brilliant qualities. Hence he had made him a favourite, and, whenever he had a difficult duty to intrust to anyone, he gave it to him, certain that he would perform it with honour. The success surpassed his hopes on this occasion; for De Laville executed the advance movement with such precision and in such profound silence that the count almost found himself up with the rear before he suspected he was anywhere near it.

In order to march more rapidly, and not be in any way detained, the captain had left his wagons and baggage at a deserted rancho about a league from the city, under the guard of the invalids, who, although too weak to fight in the ranks of the company, could yet, behind intrenchments, offer a sufficiently lengthened resistance to allow their comrades to come to their assistance.

The count passed through the ranks, saluted in an affectionate voice by his men, and placed himself at the head of the column. For two months past the fatigue Don Louis had endured, and the constant state of excitement in which events kept him, had seriously injured his health; and it was only by his energy and will that he succeeded in conquering his illness and keeping upright. He understood that if he gave way all was lost: hence he wrestled with his sufferings, and though a fever devoured him, his face remained calm, and nothing revealed to his comrades the sufferings he endured with the courage of a stoic. Still he suddenly felt himself attacked by such a feeling of weakness, that had not Valentine, who guessed his condition, and watched over him like a mother, held him in his arms, he must have fallen from his horse.

"What is the matter, brother?" the hunter asked him affectionately.

"Nothing," he answered, as he passed his hand over his forehead, which was dank with icy perspiration and fatigue; "but," he added, "it has gone off now."

"Take care, brother," he said to him with a sad shrug of his shoulders: "you do not nurse yourself enough."

"Eh? Can I do it? But be not alarmed. I know what I want: the smell of powder will restore me. Look, look! we have reached our destination at last."

In fact, by the first rays of the sun, which rose majestically above the horizon, Hermosillo, with its white houses glistening, now was visible about a cannon shot off. An immense shout of joy from the whole company greeted the so-ardently-desired appearance of the city. The order to halt was given. The city was silent – it seemed deserted: not a sound was heard within its walls. So calm, quiet, and dumb was it, that you might have fancied that you had before you that city in the Arabian Nights which a wicked enchanter struck with his wand and plunged into eternal sleep.

The country was deserted. Only here and there the fragments of arms, uniforms, sandals, the footsteps of horses, and the furrows of carts indicated the recent passage of General Guerrero's troops. The count examined the city for a while with the utmost attention, in order to make his final arrangements, when suddenly two horsemen appeared on the bridge to which we have already alluded, and galloped toward the company, waving a flag of truce.

"Let us see what these persons want," the count said.

And he galloped up to them.

"What do you want, gentlemen, and who are you?" he said when he came up to them.

"We wish," one of them said, "to speak with the Count de Prébois Crancé."

"I am the count. Be good enough to tell me what brings you here."

"Monsieur le comte, I am a Frenchman," the first speaker said.

"I recognise you, sir. Your name is Thollus, I believe, and you are a merchant at Hermosillo."

"Quite correct, monsieur le comte. My companion is Señor – "

"Don Jacinto Jabalí,⁶ a juez de letras, I suppose, or something of that sort, a great friend of General Guerrero. Well, gentlemen, I do not exactly see what we can have in common."

"Pardon me, sir, we are sent to you by Señor Don Flavio Agustado, Prefect of Hermosillo, in order to make certain propositions to you."

"Ah, ah!" the count said, champing his moustache. "Are you really?"

"Yes, sir, and very advantageous propositions too," the merchant said in an insinuating tone.

"For you possibly, sir, who sell calico and false jewellery, but I hardly think so for me."

"Still, if you would permit me to fulfil my mission, and tell you these conditions, it is possible – "

"What do you say? Why, my good sir, I want nothing better. Acquit yourself of your mission – that is only too proper; still, make haste, for I am pressed for time."

M. Thollus drew himself up, and after consulting for a moment with his companion, he continued his speech, Don Louis standing coldly and like a rock of granite before him.

"Monsieur le comte, Don Flavio Agustado, Prefect of Hermosillo, whom I have the honour to represent – "

"That is all settled. Come to the fact," Don Louis interrupted him impatiently.

"Offers you, if you consent to retire with your army without making an attempt on the city," the negotiator continued – "offers you, I say, the sum of – "

"Enough, sir!" the count exclaimed, red with indignation; "a word more would be an insult which, in spite of your quality as a flag of truce, I might not have the patience to let pass unpunished. And it is you, sir, a man who calls himself a Frenchman, who dares to become the bearer of such dishonouring conditions? You lie, you are not my countryman – I disown you as such."

"Still, monsieur le comte – " the poor fellow stammered, completely taken aback by this galling reprimand, and not knowing how to look.

"Enough!" the count interrupted him; and drawing his watch from his pocket, he said in a peremptory tone, which admitted of no reply, and terrified the negotiators. "It is now eight o'clock. Go and tell your prefect that in two hours I shall attack the city, and at eleven shall be master of it. Begone!"

And with a gesture of supreme contempt he ordered them to retire. The unlucky envoys did not wait to hear the order repeated; they turned back at once, and regained the city with hanging heads. The count galloped up to the head of the column, where the officers were assembled slightly in advance of the ranks, impatiently awaiting the result of the conference.

"Gentlemen," the count said to them on coming up, "get ready to fight."

The news was greeted with a shout of joy, which had the effect of increasing the speed of the negotiators, in whose ears it echoed like a death knell. After this the count, with extreme simplicity and clearness, pointed out to each officer the post he must occupy during the action. He placed the whole of the cavalry under the orders of Captain de Laville; selected Don Cornelio, who had only rejoined the company on the previous evening, as his aide-de-camp; and, at Valentine's request, he placed under the latter's orders the Canadian hunters and the Indians, with authority to act as he thought proper, and in whatever way he considered most advantageous to the common welfare.

De Laville, sent forward with a dozen horsemen to reconnoitre, soon returned, announcing that the city appeared to be in a complete state of defence, that the roofs of the houses were covered with soldiers, that the tocsin was pealing from all the churches, and the drums making a frightful disturbance. At this moment a spy announced that a body of two to three hundred Indians was apparently threatening the baggage, and the count at once sent off ten men to reinforce the small garrison he had left in the rear. This final duty accomplished, he ordered the company to form a circle, and placed himself in the centre. Then he spoke in a voice trembling with emotion.

"Comrades," he said, "the hour to avenge ourselves for all the villainy practised on us during the last four months, and the atrocious calumnies spread about us, has at length struck. But let us not forget that we are Frenchmen; and if we have been patient under insults, let us he magnanimous after victory. We did not desire war; it was forced upon us, and we accept it. But remember that we are fighting for the liberty of a people, and that our enemies of today will be our brothers tomorrow. Let us be terrible during the combat, merciful after the battle. One last word, or rather a final prayer. Leave the Mexicans the responsibility of firing the first shot, so that it may be evident that up to the last moment we desired peace. Now, brothers, long live France!"

"Long live France!" the adventurers shouted as they brandished their weapons.

"Each to his post!" the count commanded.

The order was executed with marvellous precision. Don Louis drew out his watch: it was ten o'clock. Then he unsheathed his sabre, wielded it round his head, and turning to the company, every man in which had his eyes fixed on the leader, he shouted in a sonorous voice, —

"Forward!"

"Forward!" the officers repeated.

The column started in good order, marching at quick step, with trailed arms.

We have mentioned the bridge which alone gave admission to the city: this bridge was barricaded, and at the other end was a house crowded with soldiers from the cellars to the azotea. A silence of death brooded over the plain. The Frenchmen marched on coolly, as if on parade, with heads raised and flashing eyes. On arriving within musket shot the walls were begirt with a line of fire, and a frightful discharge scattered death among the Frenchmen. The company at once broke into skirmishing order, and rushed onwards.

At this moment an unheard-of, incredible thing was seen – a city of 10,000 souls, surrounded by walls, and defended by a numerous garrison, attacked by 250 men fighting in the Indian way; that is, in skirmishing order. The artillery, dragged by its gunners, advanced at the same speed, and only stopped to load and fire.

Even before the Mexicans had time to look round the Frenchmen were on them like a whirlwind, attacked them at the bayonet's point, drove back the defenders of the bridge, and entered without a check the city, sweeping before them, in their irresistible attack, all that opposed their passage. Then the real battle began. The Frenchmen found themselves opposite four guns loaded with grape, which swept the whole length of the street at the end of which they were; while to the right and left, from windows and roofs, a shower of bullets pattered on them. The position was becoming critical. The count dismounted, and turning to his soldiers with the shout, "Who'll take the guns?" he rushed forward.