For a
moment they were kept at bay by the attendants of the slaughtered
cavalier, but these too, were quickly despatched; and Rada and
his companions, entering the apartment, hurried across it,
shouting out, "Where is the marquess? Death to the tyrant!"
Martinez de Alcantara, who in the adjoining room was assisting
his brother to buckle on his mail, no sooner saw that the
entrance to the antechamber had been gained, than he sprang to
the doorway of the apartment, and, assisted by two young men,
pages of Pizarro, and by one or two cavaliers in attendance,
endeavoured to resist the approach of the assailants. A
desperate struggle now ensued. Blows were given on both sides,
some of which proved fatal, and two of the conspirators were
slain, while Alcantara and his brave companions were repeatedly
wounded.
At length, Pizarro, unable, in the hurry of the moment, to adjust
the fastenings of his cuirass threw it away, and enveloping one
arm in his cloak, with the other seized his sword, and sprang to
his brother's assistance. It was too late; for Alcantara was
already staggering under the loss of blood, and soon fell to the
ground. Pizarro threw himself on his invaders, like a lion
roused in his lair, and dealt his blows with as much rapidity and
force, as if age had no power to stiffen his limbs. "What ho!" he
cried, "traitors! have you come to kill me in my own house?" The
conspirators drew back for a moment, as two of their body fell
under Pizarro's sword; but they quickly rallied, and, from their
superior numbers, fought at great advantage by relieving one
another in the assault.
Pages:
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770