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THE HARLEQUIN OPAL

A ROMANCE


BY

FERGUS HUME

_Author of "The Island of Fantasy," "Aladdin in London," etc._


VOLUME II


    Once a realm of Indian glory,
    Famed in Aztec song and story,
    Fabled by Tradition hoary
        As an earthly Paradise;
    Now a land of love romances,
    Serenades, bolero dances,
    Looks of scorn, adoring glances,
        Under burning tropic skies.


LONDON
W. H. ALLEN & CO., LIMITED
13, WATERLOO PLACE, S.W.
1893

WYMAN AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND REDHILL.




    PROEM.


    The stone had its birth in the nurturing earth,
      Its home in the heart of the main,
    From the coraline caves it was tossed by the waves
      On the breast of an aureate plain;
    And the spirits who dwell in the nethermost hell
      Stored fire in its bosom of white;
    The sylphs of the air made it gracious and fair
      With the blue of the firmament's height.

    The dull gnomes I ween, gave it glittering sheen,
      Till yellow as gold it became;
    The nymphs of the sea made the opal to be
      A beacon of emerald flame.

    The many tints glow, they come and they go
      At bidding of spirits abhorr'd,
    When one ray is bright, in the bosom of white,
      Its hue tells the fate of its lord.
    For yellow hints wealth, and blue meaneth health,
      While green forbodes passing of gloom,
    But beware of the red, 'tis an omen of dread,
      Portending disaster and doom.




Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have
been retained as printed. Words printed in italics are noted with
underscores: _italics_. The cover of this ebook was created by the
transcriber and is hereby placed in the public domain.




INDEX.


CHAP.                                                PAGE

   I.--AWAY TO THE NORTH                                1

  II.--ACAUHTZIN                                       21

 III.--DON HYPOLITO XUAREZ                             37

  IV.--RIVALS                                          58

   V.--IN SHADOWLAND                                   81

  VI.--THE SHRINE OF THE OPAL                         104

 VII.--AN UNEXPECTED MEETING                          130

VIII.--AN INDIAN FESTIVAL                             153

  IX.--THE FUGITIVES                                  184

   X.--FORTUNE TURNS HER WHEEL                        210

  XI.--AWAY TO THE FRONT                              233

 XII.--A NAVAL ENGAGEMENT--NEW STYLE                  257

XIII.--WITHOUT THE WALLS                              278




THE HARLEQUIN OPAL.




CHAPTER I.

AWAY TO THE NORTH.

    Oh, leave the south, the languid south,
    Its cloudless skies, its weary calms;
    The land of heat, and glare, and drouth,
    Where aloes bloom, and spring the palms.
    There water is the best of alms,
    To cool the ever-parched mouth;
    Oh, with the breezes bearing balms,
    Fly northward from the languid south.

    Oh, seek the bitter northern skies,
    Where falls the snow, and blows the sleet;
    'Mid which the stormy sea-bird cries,
    And circles on its pinions fleet.
    On rocky shores the surges beat,
    And icebergs crystalline arise,
    Life thrills our veins with tropic heat,
    Beneath the bitter northern skies.


Once more _The Bohemian_ was breasting the warm waves of the Pacific,
and seemed to rejoice in her freedom like a sentient thing, as she
plunged north-ward to Acauhtzin. The smoke poured black from her
wide-mouthed funnel, the blades of her propeller, lashing the waters to
foam, left behind her a long trail of white, and her sharp nose dipped
and fell in the salt brine with every pulsation of the pistons. Beneath
the folds of the Union Jack, streaming in the wind, were gathered the
Englishmen and the Cholacacans, all light-hearted and hopeful, despite
the undoubted peril of their mission. It was no light task to beard
Xuarez in his stronghold, to assert the authority of the Republic in
the teeth of his army. The mission was a valiant one, but foolhardy,
and Tim, if no one else, looked for anything but a peaceful termination
to the voyage.

The distance to Acauhtzin was something over three hundred miles, and
as _The Bohemian_ was swirling along at the rate of seventeen knots an
hour, it was hoped she would reach her destination in fifteen hours or
thereabouts. Owing to one thing and another, the yacht had not left
Tlatonac till close on four o'clock in the afternoon; so, making all
allowance for possible accidents and stoppages, at the rate she was
going, Philip calculated that he would fetch the northern capital about
dawn. He did not wish to venture too near the port in the darkness, as
the war-ships were protecting the town, and not seeing the English
ensign, might open fire on his yacht, under the impression that she was
an enemy. With this idea the engines were slowed down during the
voyage, and _The Bohemian_ was timed to enter the port some time before
noon of the next day.

Owing to the number of people on board (twenty-six souls, in addition
to the crew), it was somewhat difficult to provide all with
accommodation. Fortunately, however, the nights were warm and rainless,
so the soldiers made themselves comfortable on deck, and slept soundly
enough, wrapped in their military cloaks. The sailing-master of _The
Bohemian_, a tough old salt, by name Simon Benker, growled a good
deal at the way in which his spotless decks were being spoiled, but
Philip managed to smooth him down by representing the seriousness of
the situation. Benker submitted with but ill grace. The yacht was the
pride of his life, the darling of his heart, and he had no great love
for the inhabitants of Cholacaca. However, Sir Philip was master, and
gave the soldiers permission to camp out on deck, so Benker was forced
to acquiesce in the arrangement.

The ambassadors, in company with the three Englishmen, took up their
quarters in the state-room and cabins. As there were not enough bunks,
some of them had to sleep in the saloon, so the younger members of the
party gave up the sleeping-berths to the elders, and did their best to
make shift in a rough-and-ready fashion. As they sat up late, however,
and got up early, this inconvenienced them but little, and the utmost
good humour prevailed above and below during the voyage. The crew, with
the exception of Benker, fraternised with the soldiers, and their
masters entertained the Spanish hidalgos; so, despite all
inconveniences, things went off capitally. Even Jack plucked up his
spirits now that he was on his way to rescue Dolores, and Philip's
excellent brand of champagne had a wonderful effect of keeping the
temperament of all up to what Tim called, "concert pitch."

Don Alonzo Cebrian was a pompous old man, whose every second word was,
"I, the Intendante." He was as proud as Lucifer, and never alluded to
the rebels save by the opprobrious names of canalla, ladrons, demonios,
all of which terms were echoed regularly by Captain Velez. This young
gentleman, a good-looking spendthrift, with a rather scampish
reputation, played the part of echo to please the Intendante, whose
daughter he wished to marry for her dowry. The lady was plain, but her
father was rich; so Captain Velez was quite willing to sacrifice his
good looks and bachelor freedom on the altar of matrimony, provided he
was well paid for doing so. Don Rafael was in the highest of spirits at
the prospect of seeing Doña carmencita, and kept things going by the
liveliness of his sallies, while Colonel Garibay smoked endless
cigarettes and spoke but little.

After an excellent dinner, which was done full justice to by the hungry
Spaniards, they all went on deck, and sat down to smoke and talk. First
and foremost, they all paid Sir Philip handsome compliments about the
beauty and speed of _The Bohemian_, and then drifted gradually into the
one subject of the hour--the war with Xuarez--the embassy to
Xuarez--the certainty of punishing Xuarez.

"Begad! Philip," whispered Tim, who was smoking a villainous black clay
pipe, "it's all Xuarez and nothing else. Is he the only man the
Opposidores have?"

"So it appears," replied Philip, leaning back in his chair; "the whole
row seems to hinge on Xuarez. Is that not your opinion, Don Rafael?"

"What is that, mi amigo? I do not understand English."

"That Xuarez is the only capable man on the side of the Opposidores?"

"Ladrons!" interrupted Don Alonzo, with stately spite. "I, the
Intendante, think otherwise. Xuarez is clever; but, Señores, no one is
so clever as Tejada! Canalla!"

"Canalla!" echoed Velez, removing his cigarette, "no one is so clever
as Tejada!"

"Don José is being deceived by Xuarez," said Rafael, ruffled at this
allusion to his proposed father-in-law; "he is a pompous old fool, and,
if he is wise, will leave Acauhtzin with his family, and place himself
under the protection of the Republic."

"He won't do that," replied Garibay, decisively; "he is of too much
service to Xuarez. The Opposidores have but little wealth, and Tejada
is a rich man."

"Well, no matter, Señores. I, the Intendante, will arrest them both,
and carry them in chains to the Junta."

"I am afraid that will be more difficult than you imagine, Señor," said
Rafael, dryly. "Xuarez is adored by the townspeople of Acauhtzin. He
has a passably good army, the friendship of the Indians, who are being
urged on to war by that prophetic opal, and a capital fleet. With all
these at his command, he would be a fool to yield at the mere reading
of a decree. No. This war will be a long one--a difficult one--and it
is doubtful if, in the end, Don Hypolito will not conquer."

Garibay frowned, and looked sternly at the young man.

"Are your sympathies with the Opposidores, Señor?"

"By no means. I see in Xuarez a possible tyrant, an unscrupulous
scoundrel; but I am not so blinded as to overlook his talents. Already
he has scored heavily against us. The securing of the fleet, the
gaining of Acauhtzin to his interest, and all without a blow. Believe
me, Colonel, I speak truly when I say Xuarez is a foe to be dreaded."

"He will not dare to defy the decree of the Republic," said the
Intendante, pompously. "When I read this," added Don Alonzo, tapping
his breast pocket, where lay the official paper, "he will yield."

"Certainly!" echoed Velez, parrot-like, "he will yield. Carambo! He
dare not defy Don Alonzo!"

"Do you think Xuarez is a second Montezuma, to yield in the presence of
his army, Señores," cried Rafael, vehemently. "I tell you no! Were he
alone, he would resist arrest. How much more so, then, when supported
by the devotion of hundreds. I am a true subject of the Republic; I
hate, dread, and scorn Don Hypolito. But I do not despise him. He will
be the Napoleon of Cholacaca. Let the Republic beware!"

"Ah! bah!" said Colonel Garibay, while Don Alonzo snorted with
indignation. "Xuarez may be a clever man; but he is no general. Why, he
does not even make the first move!"

"No; he bides his time. When he does move, Tlatonac will hear of it."

"You mean, he will bombard the city?"

"Yes, and no! I will explain. Excuse me one moment, Señores. I go for a
map of the country."

Don Rafael ran down to the cabin; and during his absence the Intendante
and Captain Velez scoffed at the idea that Xuarez would be a dangerous
enemy. They had a duet in a braggadocio vein.

"He will yield, Señores, when I read this decree."

"The troops of Tlatonac alone can crush him," added Velez, confidently.

"We will swallow these rebels at a mouthful. I, the Intendante, say
so."

"The war will be a mere military promenade!" said his echo.

"So said the French at the outbreak of the Franco-Prussian war,"
interjected Philip, grimly, "but they made a mistake. What is your
opinion, Colonel?"

"I agree with Don Rafael," replied Garibay, slowly "I am by no means
inclined to undervalue our opponent. Xuarez is as cunning as Satan, and
as ambitious. His first moves in this war have resulted to his own
advantage; therefore I am not so confident of a speedy termination to
this campaign as are these gentlemen. Fire-crackers, such as reading a
decree will not frighten a man like Xuarez!"

"Then you think this journey useless?" asked Jack, who was of much the
same opinion himself.

"Absolutely, Señors. I believe we are on the eve of a terrible
struggle, and to whom will result the advantage I know not."

"If all the Junta were as faint-hearted as yourself and Don Rafael, we
would yield without a blow," said the Intendante, bitterly.

"Without a blow," from Velez, in the same tone! "Carambo!"

"You are wrong, Señor," cried the Colonel, with fiery earnestness, "I
am not faint-hearted. I will fight against Xuarez to the last. But is
it wise to scoff at this man as you are doing? I tell you he is a
master-spirit, such as rises once in a century, and, as such, is
all-powerful, even against the great power of the Republic. He is one
of those men who change the destinies of nations. A Napoleon, a
Garibaldi, a Washington. From my soul, Señores, I trust we shall win,
and save the Republic; but it is as well to look on both sides of the
question. Blind security is not wise. Por todos Santos, Señores," cried
Garibay, rising to his feet in his excitement, "see how this man has
already succeeded. Acauhtzin, the most important town next to the
capital, is in his hands, our fleet has gone over entirely to his side;
and have you forgotten the treachery of Marina and Pepe. A full plan of
the fortifications of Tlatonac is before him. If he can do this much,
he can do more. Till the end, I shall support the Republic, and resist
a possible Dictator; but do not sneer at Xuarez! I tell you he is a
great man!"

This was an unexampled outburst for the ordinarily calm Colonel, and he
sank back in his chair with a look of agitation on his usually
impassive face. The Intendante and Velez were for the moment impressed;
yet, soon recovering their obstinate belief in the invulnerability of
the Republic, would have replied, but that at this moment Don Rafael
made his appearance with a small map.

"Your pardon, Señores, that I have been so long!" apologised Rafael,
sitting down promptly, and spreading out the map on his own and
Philip's knees. "Look, now, mis amigos, and I will tell you how this
campaign will be conducted!"

"How do you know, Señor? Are you in the confidence of Xuarez?"

"I am a gentleman, no traitor!" replied Rafael, haughtily, to the
insulting question of the Intendante. "I know something of Don
Hypolito's plans, because he spoke of them to Don José de Tejada.
Before the revolt of the fleet, I was a visitor at the house of that
gentleman, and so learned much. Had Don José known that I would remain
true to the Republic, he would have been more cautious. As it was, he
spoke sufficiently clearly to let me understand the broad outlines of
the campaign as designed by Xuarez."

"Bueno!" said the Intendante, politely, "I ask your pardon, Don Rafael.
And this plan."

"Behold!" said Rafael, tracing with his finger the various points;
"here is Acauhtzin--there Tlatonac!--and at the extreme south you see
Janjalla! This last town will be attacked first."

"And the reason?"

"Carrai! can you not see, Señor Garibay? Between Tlatonac and Acauhtzin
are nothing but mountains--no roads, no open spaces. All giant hills,
terrible precipices, a few paths made by Indians, and inhospitable
deserts, where the land happens to be flat for a few miles. How then
can Xuarez convey his army to the capital in that direction?"

"True, true! And most of his soldiers are dragoons."

"Certainly, he could attack Tlatonac with Indians who are used to their
rugged country; but savages, as Xuarez well knows, can do little or
nothing against trained troops. In conjunction with his own army, they
can do something; but, alone, they are almost useless. Bueno! You see
he, will not attack from the north."

"But why attack Janjalla instead of Tlatonac?" asked Tim, who was
anxiously following this discussion, pencil and note-book in hand.

"Look to the south," replied Don Rafael, promptly. "No mountains
between Janjalla and Tlatonac--nothing but rich plains--broad spaces on
which armies can manoeuvre. Now, if Xuarez conveys his troops by the
war-ships south to Janjalla, he can bombard and perhaps take that
city."

"I, the Intendante, deny that!"

"Impossible to take Janjalla," echoed Velez, nodding his head wisely.

Rafael shrugged his shoulders. It was next to impossible to argue with
these obstinate people who would only look at one side of the question.

"We will grant that Janjalla falls into the power of Xuarez," said
Garibay, impatiently; "and afterwards?"

"Afterwards," resumed the young man, "Xuarez will garrison the town,
and concentrate all his troops there."

"Thus leaving Acauhtzin open to attack," said Jack, satirically.

"By no means. The war-ships will prevent our troops getting to that
town. We cannot get to it by land, and the sea will be blockaded by the
rebel fleet."

"Unless the torpederas----"

"True! unless the torpederas arrive," replied Rafael significantly;
"but it is doubtful as to whether the Junta or Xuarez will get them.
However, I am only supposing all these things being in favour of the
Opposidores."

"Bueno! We will look at the matter from Don Hypolito's point of view,"
said Philip, quietly. "His troops are concentrated at Janjalla. Between
that town and Tlatonac are open plains--and," added Philip, dryly, "the
armies of the Republic!"

"Certainly. But let us presume, for the sake of argument, that Xuarez
makes three simultaneous attacks. With his regular army on the plains,
with the Indians from the north on Tlatonac--and from the sea by a
bombardment from the war-ships."

"Dios!" muttered Garibay, biting his fingers; "that man is a general."

"The troops of the Republic will conquer everywhere," said Don Alonzo,
gravely.

"Everywhere!" repeated his umbra.

"It is to be hoped so, Señores," said Tim, significantly, "the Republic
will need all the help she can get to defend herself in three places at
once."

"In my opinion," observed Rafael, calmly, "there is only one way to end
the war."

"And that is?"

"By a naval victory. The Junta must secure the torpederas. We must have
more war-ships, and cripple Don Hypolito's power on the sea. Then he
will be unable to convey his troops to Janjalla--unable to bombard
Tlatonac, and remain shut up in Acauhtzin, where we can crush him at
our leisure."

Garibay disagreed with this view of the matter, and accused Rafael of
looking solely at the matter from a naval point of view. A hot
discussion ensued, in which every possible attack, repulse, strategy,
and battle, was talked over far into the night. Philip and Jack grew
weary of this incessant argument, and slipped down to the saloon, where
they chatted about Dolores. Overhead they heard the hot-tempered
Spaniards arguing fiercely, and several times thought they would come
to blows so warm grew the discussion.

"Egad, Jack! I'm glad this voyage ends to-morrow," said Philip, as they
turned in, "or they will certainly murder one another."

A grunt was Jack's unsatisfactory reply. He was, almost asleep, and
already dreaming of rescuing Dolores from the clutches of Don Hypolito.

After a time, those on deck grew tired of such unprofitable talk, and
one by one came down to snatch a few hours' sleep. In the space of
fifteen minutes everyone was snoring, and the yacht flew northward with
her cargo of sleeping men. Benker was in charge of the wheel, and as he
had been in these waters years before, knew every inch of the coast.
Keeping the boat about a mile from the shore, he headed her straight
for Acauhtzin, which was many miles away, in the curve of the land
where it stretched eastward into the Carribean Sea.

It was a perfectly calm night. Stars and moon, a placid sea, and the
yacht swirling through the liquid plain with a slight roll. To the
right, the infinite expanse of the waters heaving against the horizon;
to the left, the long, low line of the coast, with its dim masses of
foliage, and here and there a snow-clad mountain peak. Benker twirled
the wheel, chewed his quid, and looked every now and then in disgust at
the sleeping forms of the soldiers encumbering the white decks of the
yacht. Moonlight and starlight, the throb of the screw, the singing of
the wind through the rigging, and the hiss of the waves seething past;
it was wonderfully beautiful. The boat sped onward like a shadow amid a
world of shadows, and the most prosaic soul would have been touched by
the profound beauty of this watery world. Not so Simon Benker. He was
used to it all, and regarded nothing but his work and the soldiers.

Then the east began to palpitate with the coming dawn. Lines of dim
light low down on the horizon--yellow bands which melted to pale green,
and flushed to delicate rose colours. Higher and higher the coming day
dyed the sky in opaline hues, the stars fled westward, the wan moon
paling before this fierce splendour, hid her face behind a bank of
clouds. The dark world of waters became tinged with rainbow hues, then
one thick yellow shaft of light smote the zenith with heavy brilliance.
Ray after ray shot out like the spokes of a wheel, and suddenly the
intolerable glory of the sun leaped from the nether world.

"Yonder," said Jack to Philip, who had come on deck to see the sunrise,
"yonder, my boy, is the Harlequin Opal!"

"If it is as brilliant and as many-tinted as that," replied the
baronet, staring at the gorgeous sky and sea, "it must, indeed, be a
wonderful gem. Benker, how is she going?"

"You have no soul," said Duval, turning away. "I am going down to have
a tub."

He thereupon vanished again, was shortly followed by Philip, after he
had satisfied himself that _The Bohemian_ had done good work during the
hours of darkness. Afterwards they awoke their sleeping companions, and
had breakfast, when the Spaniards were introduced to several English
dishes, of which they approved greatly.

The heavens were now a pale turquoise blue, the sun mounting towards
the zenith was already beginning to burn hotly, and all were assembled
on deck impatiently waiting to catch sight of their destination. Here
and there on the green shore, amid the forests they could see Indian
settlements, and at times light canoes skimmed the surface of the
waves. Towards eleven o'clock a white spot appeared on the land
straight ahead. Don Rafael, who was standing by Philip, touched the
young man's arm.

"Acauhtzin!" he said, cheerfully; "we will be there in the hour."
Philip looked at his watch.

"We left Tlatonac at four yesterday. We will reach Acauhtzin at twelve
to-day. Three hundred miles in twenty hours. That is not bad for slow
steaming. Had I kept her at full speed, she would have done it in
fifteen!"

Tim, who had his glass up, gave an exclamation of surprise.

"What is it, Tim?"

"Three war-ships are lying in the harbour."

"I thought as much," replied Philip, calmly; "we will have to run the
blockade."

Tim pointed upward to the Union Jack.

"If they fire on that," he said slowly, "Xuarez is not the clever man I
take him to be. What do you say, Jack?"

"Say!" repeated Jack, who was looking ahead with clenched fists, "that
one of those three ships is _The Pizarro_, and that Dolores is on
board."




CHAPTER II.

ACAUHTZIN.

    Here, where mingle rocks and sands,
    Phantom-like the city stands,
    Looming vague and ghostly pale,
    Through the dawning's misty veil.
    Day and night, and night and day,
    At the foot of ramparts grey;
    Just a stone-throw up the shore
    Ever-hungry surges roar,
    As they would rejoice to tear
    From her heights that city fair,
    Where, engirt by forests green,
    Proud she sits, a laurelled queen;
    Dim the mighty fabric gleams,
    As thought-built in magic dreams,
    'Tis some palace city hoary,
    Famed in song for golden glory,
    Which, at dawn, will fade away,
    In the traitor light of day.


The city of Acauhtzin was not unlike the capital in appearance, though
it differed from Tlatonac in being built on a projecting point of land,
instead of on a hill. On either side were mountains, partially
enclosing a deep basin, wherein the war-ships were anchored, and on a
tongue of rock jutting into the centre of this pool the city was built.
The walls white and glistening, arose sheer from the rocky cliffs and
above them only a few steeples and towers could be seen. The walls
encompassing the tongue of rock formed a kind of citadel, and then ran
along the inshore for some distance on each side, terminating in
well-defended forts. At the back of the city arose a high mountain,
clothed with green forests, from amidst which a mighty peak of snow
shot up grandly into the blue sky.

Philip saw all this when the yacht was some distance away, and at once
pronounced his opinion of the place.

"It is like Valetta," he said, handing the glass to Jack. "The city is
built, on a tongue of land, the walls rise in the same precipitous
fashion, and there are harbours on either side. Were it not for that
mighty peak, and the mountains to right and left, it would be the
Valetta of the old world."

On the flag-tower of the principal fort floated the banner of the
insurgent leader, the same in all respects as that of the Republic,
save that the colour was red instead of yellow. The Harlequin Opal was
so interwoven with the history and superstitions of the Cholacacans
that Xuarez could not afford to dispense with so powerful a symbol, and
on the crimson ground of the flag gleamed the representation of the
stone, shooting its myriad rays. At the entrance of the harbour were
anchored two heavily armed war-ships, which Don Rafael recognised as
_The Cortes_ and _The Columbus_. His own vessel, _The Pizarro_, lay
further in to the shore, almost across the gate which pierced the wall
of the great fort, and gave admission to the city.

With the Union Jack flying at her masthead _The Bohemian_ steamed
boldly into the harbour between the threatening bulk of the two
men-of-war. Through their glasses, those on board the yacht could see
there was much excitement at her unexpected appearance both on the
ships and on shore. A crowd of people poured out of the gate like a
swarm of bees, as _The Bohemian_, slowing down her engines, swung
gracefully to anchor beside _The Pizarro_. Just as she cleared the
war-ships at the entrance, a puff of smoke broke from the black sides
of _The Cortes_, whereat Tim uttered an exclamation of rage.

"It's insulting the flag they are!"

"No. Blank cartridge," replied Philip, shrewdly; "they are saluting the
Union Jack. Don Hypolito evidently wants to stand well with England.
See, they are dipping their flags."

The three war-ships lowered their pennants for a moment, in salutation
to the English flag, and then ran them up again to the masthead. Philip
had by this time brought _The Bohemian_ directly under the guns of
the forts; so that, in any event, she would be safe. The forts could
not depress their guns sufficiently to damage her, and the war-ships
would not dare to fire lest they should injure the ramparts of the
town.

Making everything safe by this artful manoeuvre Philip, with the
sanction of Don Alonzo, hauled down the Union Jack, to hoist the
Republican banner. At first the forts thought the English ship was
responding to their salute, and several guns thundered a welcome to the
stranger, while the crowd on the shore cheered lustily. All these
greetings, however, were changed to cries of anger when the yellow
banner of Tlatonac flew up to the masthead of _The Bohemian_. Without
doubt, had the yacht been outside, the war-ships would have opened fire
on this audacious vessel, to make her pay for such insolence; but
Philip, being safe under the walls of the fort, could fly the flag with
impunity.

The crowd on the beach and wharf roared with rage, as they saw the
hated ensign, and recognised the fact that by this audacious piece of
strategy a band of their enemies had gained admission into the very
heart of their harbour. Had those on shore been able to get on board
_The Bohemian_ it would have gone ill with Philip and his friends;
but, fortunately, the yacht had cast anchor some distance away, by the
side of _The Pizarro_. The crew of the war-ship lined the side of
their vessel to look at the daring intruder, and seeing this, Don
Rafael, suppressing all outward signs of rage, swore fluently to
himself as he recognised the renegades.

In a remarkably short space of time, a boat with the rebel flag hanging
over its stern pulled out from the shore, and in a few minutes came
alongside _The Bohemian_. A ladder was thrown over at once, and there
stepped on deck Don José de Tejada, accompanied by a few officers. He
recognised Don Alonzo and his friends at once, for they had been
intimates of his before the outbreak of this fratricidal war.

"Don Rafael! Don Alonzo," said Tejada, in astonishment. "What is the
meaning of this, Señores? and how have you the hardihood to display the
flag of Tlatonac under the guns of Acauhtzin?"

"I, the Intendante, with these gentlemen, have come hither on a mission
to Don Hypolito Xuarez from the Junta of Cholacaca."

"Oh, you would make peace. The Junta fears the result of an appeal to
arms."

"Carajo, no!" cried Garibay, clapping his hand to his sword. "The Junta
fears nothing; much less the rebel Xuarez."

"Beware, Señor," said Tejada, as several of his officers muttered
angrily; "I cannot protect you, if thus you speak of our honoured
President."

"President!" cried Rafael, in a rage.

"Yes; the President of Cholacaca."

"Don Francisco Gomez is President?"

"By the will of the aristocrats," said Don José fiercely; "but Don
Hypolito Xuarez is President by the will of the people."

"Enough of this," exclaimed the Intendante, waving his hand; "we are
here under a flag of truce. Even you, Señor, must respect that. We will
deliver our message to Xuarez, and depart unharmed."

"That is as Don Hypolito wills it."

"Your pardon, Señor," interposed Philip, taking off his yachting cap;
"this is an English vessel, and as such you dare not seize her."

"I recognise no vessel as English under those colours," said Tejada,
fiercely, pointing to the opal banner.

"Bueno! I will endeavour to remove your prejudice."

In another moment Philip had given orders to Benker, and the Union Jack
was flying at the other masthead.

"You must respect our neutrality now, Señor."

Don José bit his lip, and turning to one of his officers, gave an
order. The soldier bowed, dropped over the side of the yacht, and went
ashore in the boat.

"I have sent to tell Don Hypolito that an embassy has come from
Tlatonac," said Tejada, addressing the Intendante with marked coldness;
"in ten or fifteen minutes you shall know his decision."

"He must receive us, Señor."

"No doubt; but the question is, will he let you depart?"

"By the law of nations, which recognises the white flag, he must let us
go as we came, unharmed."

"Had you not sailed under the English ensign, you would not have got
into the harbour so easily. This boat would be now sunk by the guns of
_The Cortes_."

"I thought as much," said Philip, easily; "therefore I flew a flag
which even you had to respect."

"And may I ask, Señores," sneered Don José, with elaborate politeness,
"under which flag you sail? the English, the Opal, or the White?"

"Under the white," replied Garibay, promptly.

"Good! Then lower those two banners, and run up the white flag."

"I'll see you hanged first!" retorted Philip, bluntly. "This is an
English vessel, and I defy you to touch it or the flag."

Tejada blushed red with rage, for he knew that Xuarez, anxious to stand
well in his quarrel with the great nations of Europe, would not dare to
insult the Union Jack. In fact, seeing that the deputation had arrived
in an English vessel, Tejada was well assured in his own mind that it
would be received and sent away with the utmost courtesy, let their
message from the Junta be galling as it might be. Xuarez was no
barbarian, and in any case would have treated a flag of truce with
honour, but the presence of these English gentlemen, of this English
ship, put the matter beyond all doubt.

Under these circumstances, Tejada was unable to reply to Sir Philip;
but suppressing his wrath with a great effort, bowed politely and
turned away. As he did so, Don Rafael sprang forward, as also did Jack,
both eager to learn if Dolores was in the town.

"I will speak, amigo," said Rafael, hurriedly to Jack. "I know Don
José, as my private friend, though public enemy; he will answer me."

"Your servant, Señor!" remarked Tejada, stiffly, finding himself face
to face with Don Rafael.

"Señor," said the young man, taking off his sombrero with ceremonious
politeness, "we are enemies because we follow different leaders; but I
implore you, by the friendship which once existed between us, to answer
a question I would ask."

"Surely, Señor! You were ever welcome at my table, in time of peace. As
you say, we are now enemies; but God forbid that this unhappy war
should banish all courtesies between gentlemen. What question do you
wish to put, Señor? It shall be answered."

"Is my cousin--is Doña Dolores at Acauhtzin?"

Tejada started, and seemed much surprised.

"No, Señor Maraquando, she is not here. Why ask me such a strange
question?"

"Not here!" cried Jack, who also knew Tejada well; "but she must be
here, Señor Tejada; she has been carried off from Tlatonac, taken on
board yonder vessel,"--pointing to _The Pizarro_--"and is now in
Acauhtzin with Don Hypolito."

"I swear to you, Señor Duval, that you wrong us. You wrong Don
Hypolito," replied Don José, earnestly. "I am aware that our leader
loves Doña Dolores, and desires to marry her, but he would not carry
her off so basely. No, Señor," continued Tejada, proudly; "we are men
of honour, we do not make war on women. When Don Hypolito conquers, he
will ask for the honour of Doña Dolores' hand in due form. She is not
here, I swear."

"Great Heavens!" cried Jack, in despair. "Can this be true?"

"Don José," said Rafael, eagerly, "I know you to be a man of honour. I
do not doubt your word; but I feel sure that my cousin is here."

"Señor!"

"I do not say that you know, or are deceiving me," went on Rafael,
rapidly. "But look you, Don José. There is a zambo called Pepe, who
acted as a spy for your party at Tlatonac. The other night he decoyed
my cousin from the cathedral on board _The Pizarro_. A fisherman saw
Pepe rowing to the war-ship, with a female in his boat."

"Bueno! That is so," interrupted Tejada, bluntly; "but the woman was a
poblana--one Marina."

"Marina!" cried Duval, savagely. "Then I have been tricked. We have all
been wrong! Doña Dolores must be with the Indians."

"I trust, Señor, your fears are groundless; but if Doña Dolores is with
the Indians, she will be quite safe. They reverence her as the guardian
of the Chalchuih Tlatonac."

"Does Don Hypolito know anything about the Indians?" asked Rafael,
hurriedly.

"That question, Señor, I am not at liberty to answer."

Rafael cast one swift and penetrating glance at the impassive face of
the old man, and turned away with a suppressed oath.

"Carrai!" he muttered, fiercely, to Philip, who stood by, a silent
spectator. "I believe Xuarez is in league with the Indians, and has
made them carry her off. If she is not here, she is at that hidden
temple; but, in either case, Don Hypolito is mixed up with the case."

"In my humble opinion, she is at Acauhtzin," said Philip, quietly. "Don
José does not know all the black dealings of Xuarez's heart. Cheer up,
my dear Jack, we will soon see Don Hypolito, and wring the truth from
him."

Jack muttered something indistinctly, and turned away, whereon Philip,
taking him kindly by the arm, led him down to the saloon, with the
intention of giving him such consolation as he was able.

"If she is here, Xuarez must know," said Philip, earnestly; "and if he
knows, he will not be able to deceive me. I can read most faces, and it
will be strange indeed if Don Hypolito's is the first to baffle me."

"Don José denies everything."

"Yes; because Don José knows nothing. That old man is a pompous old
ass, like the Intendante. Many things could take place under his nose
without his being any the wiser. Drink this glass of wine, my dear lad,
and keep up your spirits. We will find Dolores yet."

Duval was so overcome by the loss of Dolores that he submitted to
Philip's orders like a child, and obediently drank the wine poured out
for him. In most emergencies, Jack would have been ready to act at once
with a cool head, and iron nerve; but Dolores was very dear to him, and
her loss had rendered him useless for the moment--in other words, the
shock had paralysed his will.

After Philip had succeeded in putting some heart into the poor fellow,
he insisted on his coming on deck, and they ascended thereto just in
time to see the return of the officer sent by Tejada to Don Hypolito.
The messenger walked straight up to Don José, and gave the reply of
Xuarez, on hearing which, Tejada turned towards the waiting Intendante.

"His Excellency Don Hypolito Xuarez will see you at his palace."

Don Alonzo almost choked with rage at hearing these terms applied to a
rebel like Xuarez, but managed to bow with tolerably good grace. He
moved towards the side of the yacht, and scrambled down into the boat
in a somewhat ungraceful fashion for an ambassador. Colonel Garibay,
Don Rafael, and the Englishmen followed, together with Tejada and his
staff.

Tim, who had been fraternising with the rebels, showed his note-book to
Jack, filled with shorthand notes.

"I've got no end of information," he said gleefully; "and when I get
back to Tlatonac, it goes to the _Morning Planet_ straight."

"That is if we ever do get back," said Jack, gloomily.

"Of course we will, you pessimist; and, what's more, we'll take back
Doña Dolores with us."

"Do you think she is here, then, after all?" asked Duval, with reviving
hope.

Tim winked in a vulgar fashion.

"A word in your ear, Jack," he said, jerking his head in the direction
of the pompous Tejada. "That old man's a liar. The pretty colleen is
here, and Don José knows it? but she's not with Don Hypolito."

"Then where do you think she is?"

"With Rafael's sweetheart, no less; the old man's daughter."

"Doña Carmencita?"

"You've hit it."

Jack would have questioned Tim further, so as to learn his grounds for
such a belief, but just then the boat touched the stone steps of the
wharf. The embassy stepped ashore, and waited till the soldiers of
Tlatonac arrived. Don Alonzo, with a due regard for the dignity of the
Republic, refused to move until his bodyguard came on shore. In a few
minutes, the soldiers landed, under the command of Captain Velez, and
thus escorted, the ambassador of the Republic moved slowly forward,
beneath the mighty arch which led into the heart of the rebel capital.

"We've got in, Señor," whispered Rafael to Philip with sudden doubt;
"but I hope we shall be able to get out."

Philip pointed back to the Union Jack, which could be seen in the
distance at the yacht's masthead.

"While that flag is there I have no fear, Don Rafael."




CHAPTER III.

DON HYPOLITO XUAREZ.

    A visionary? Wherefore not? All men
    Who change the world are dreamers in their youth.
    Thought comes before fulfilment!--in the earth,
    The hidden seedling hints the future flower!
    So is it with this man! For years his brain
    Hath dallied with a thousand fantasies,
    Which had no being save within himself.
    But now his dreams take shape!--with purpose firm,
    He aids their due fulfilment, till therefrom
    New heavens and earth are formed, and ancient things
    Crashing to ruin, as foundations serve
    Whereon to build earth's future destinies.


There was no doubt that Don Hypolito laid due stress on ceremonial
observances as necessary to consolidate his pretensions. On the ground
that Gomez had broken the constitutional rules by which he held his
position, Xuarez proclaimed himself saviour and President of the
Cholacacan Republic. Not being in possession of Tlatonac, he
constituted Acauhtzin his capital for the time being, and there assumed
all the airs of a ruler. He called himself by the title of President,
his personal staff and intimate friends constituted a kind of
revolutionary Junta, and the building in which this illegal assemblage
met for conference was dignified with the name of the Palacio Nacional.
In all respects the machinery of the lawful Government was copied at
Acauhtzin, and that town was regarded by the Opposidores as the true
capital of the country until such time as Xuarez should enforce his
pretensions by marching in triumph into the head city of the Republic.
As in the Middle Ages two Popes ruled--the one at Rome, the other at
Avignon--so the allegiance of Cholacaca was claimed by two Presidents:
Gomez at Tlatonac, Xuarez at Acauhtzin.

The extraordinary man who avowed himself the saviour of type country
possessed in a marked degree that power of dominating all with whom he
came in contact by the personal charm of his manner. This dæmonic
influence is a peculiar characteristic of all great men, without which
they could not hope to accomplish their missions. Napoleon changed the
map of Europe, Mahomet created a religion, Cæsar consolidated the Roman
Empire, Luther tore half the civilised world from the grip of
ecclesiastical Rome. These great events sprang in the first instance
from the strong personality of the men who accomplished them, hence the
performance of what appear to be miracles. Don Hypolito Xuarez, son of
a Spanish adventurer and an Indian woman, possessed this dæmonic
influence, and gifted with such power, arose from obscurity to the full
glory of supreme power. Nowhere was his authority more noticeable than
in Acauhtzin. Years before a political adventurer, he had been accepted
by the people of that town as their deputy to the Junta. Acauhtzin,
always jealous of the superiority of Tlatonac, was desirous that the
seat of Government should be transferred thither from the city of the
opal. This ambition was fostered by the crafty Xuarez, who saw therein
a safe way of gaining the love of the northern capital. After he had
accused Gomez in the Junta of breaking the rules of the constitution,
he came northward to claim the protection of his constituents, a
protection which was freely accorded to one who had their interests so
much at heart.

Cunning Don Hypolito saw his position and how he could better it.
Casting all his fortunes on one bold stroke, he assembled the
townspeople in the great plaza, and harangued them with all his
marvellous powers of oratory. Gomez had tampered with the sacred
constitution of Cholacaca. Gomez was therefore unworthy to occupy the
Presidential chair. One man alone could save the country, that man was
himself. Let them throw in their fortunes with his, and resort to arms
to inforce his elevation to the supreme power. Then he would transfer
the seat of Government from Tlatonac to Acauhtzin, and the northern
port would become the greatest city in Central America. Dazzled by this
vision, the townspeople elected Don Hypolito President with enthusiasm,
and vowed to stand by him to the end. That end they never for a moment
doubted would be victory over the established Government, and the
transference of the seat of power from Tlatonac to Acauhtzin. They
firmly believed in Don Hypolito as the man of the future, and when, by
a skilful stroke of diplomacy, he secured the support of the Regimiento
de Huitzilopochtli and of the fleet, his triumph was complete. He who
could do so much could do more! The admiring townsfolk swore by the
brilliant adventurer, and when the message carried by Don Alonzo
arrived at the northern capital, the crafty Mestizo was the idol of the
populace. The ironical part of the whole affair was that he had no
intention of fulfiling any promises made to his trusting constituents.

Jack, owing to his long residence in Tlatonac, was already acquainted
with Xuarez, but both Tim and Philip were exceedingly curious to behold
this man, of whom they had heard so much, and who seemed to hold the
destinies of the Republic in the hollow of his hand. In the Great hall
of the Palacio Nacional (so called) they beheld him for the first time,
waiting to receive the emissaries of the Government. Surrounded by a
brilliant throng of officers, he alone was plainly dressed, no uniform,
no gaudy tints, no decorations, yet his personality raised him high
above those by whom he was encircled. The supporters of Xuarez were
mediocrites; Xuarez himself was a great man.

The revolutionary leader was small of stature, ungraceful in
appearance; his legs were short, his body was long, so that he rather
waddled than walked. At first sight this ungainly figure, this
ungraceful gait, was apt to bring a smile to the lips of the onlooker,
but that smile faded before the grand countenance surmounting the
misshapen frame. It was as though the head of a Greek statue had been,
by mistake, joined on to the body of a Polynesian idol; the first was
so noble, the latter so grotesque. A Roman head, such as tradition
ascribes to the Cæsars, a Napoleonic face, calm, powerful, terrible as
the impassive countenance of the Sphinx. Broad forehead, prominent
nose, large eyes, full of fire and determination; no beard or moustache
to hide the contour of the cheeks, the strong curve of the mouth, a
skin of marble whiteness, and the whole surmounted by masses of waving
hair, dark as the eyes beneath. Such faces are seen on the coins of the
Cæsars, on the painted walls of Egyptian tombs, on the carven walls of
Assyrian palaces. They belong alone to kings, to heroes, to conquerors.
Nature marks her great men thus. When such faces of terrible calm
appear at intervals of centuries, mankind trembles, they recognise the
scourges of God, destined to whelm the world in waves of blood. Philip
came to see Xuarez--he looked, and lo! Napoleon.

"The struggle is unequal," he whispered to Jack, as Don Alonzo unrolled
his papers.

"Yes," replied Duval, in the same tone. "His force is too weak to stand
against the power of the Junta."

Philip smiled scornfully.

"What can the Junta do against that face?" he said, contemptuously.
"There stands the greatest man in Cholacaca."

"D----n him," muttered the engineer, fiercely, "he has carried off
Dolores."

"Silence, boys," growled Tim, in a voice of subdued thunder, "the Don's
speaking."

The Intendante was not a particularly brave man, and hardly liked the
position in which he now found himself. His mission had appeared to be
great and grand and glorious at Tlatonac! but now it assumed quite a
different complexion. To utter threats against the rebel Xuarez, when
in the society of friends, was one thing; to order the followers of the
revolutionary President to give him up to punishment, in the middle of
his army, was another. Don Alonzo Cebrian hummed and hawed, and cleared
his throat, to get down a nasty lump which impeded his speech. Don
Hypolito saw his confusion, but said nothing, he did not even smile,
but sat serenely in his chair, impenetrable as the Sphinx. At last the
Intendante screwed up his courage and delivered the decree of the
Junta--sufficiently badly, it is true--still, he delivered it.

"As the legally qualified representative of the Junta of Cholacaca, in
congress assembled, I hereby order those in arms against the Republic
to surrender to the Government, and to deliver up for punishment the
body of the rebel, Hypolito Xuarez, for----"

He did not finish his sentence. A low murmur of rage arose from the
supporters of the rebel leader, and, half-drawing their swords, they
looked towards Xuarez for authority to cut down the daring man who had
thus insulted him in the midst of his army. Don Alonzo turned pale at
the sight of the half-bared weapons, and shrank back among his friends;
but Xuarez, leaning his chin on his hand, stared steadily before him
and waited. Seeing this impassive demeanour, which he was not clever
enough to know was more dangerous than an outburst of rage, Don Alonzo
regained his spirits. A more unfitted diplomatist than Cebrian could
scarcely have been chosen.

"I need not speak at any great length," he said, rapidly. "The orders
of his Excellency Francisco Gomez are that the town of Acauhtzin
surrender to the Government, deliver up the rebel Xuarez for
punishment, and submit to the clemency of the Junta. If this is done at
once, the Junta will be lenient; if not, the opal standard will be
unfurled, and all the inhabitants of Acauhtzin will be treated as
rebels. This is the decree of Don Francisco Gomez on the part of the
Junta of Cholacaca, delivered by myself the Intendante of Xicotencatl."

Then, Cebrian, having delivered his message sufficiently badly, rolled
up his papers with the air of a man who has done his duty, and waited
the reply of the rebel leader. All those on the side of Xuarez frowned
heavily, but made no demonstration of wrath at the insolence of the
message. They waited to hear Don Hypolito speak. The Mestizo arose to
his feet, and addressed himself, not to the emissaries of the Republic,
but to his own supporters.

"Señores," he said, in a singularly mellow and powerful voice, "you
hear the decree of the so-called Junta of Cholacaca. Lest you should
mistake the purport of the message delivered by Don Alonzo Cebrian, I
will repeat it shortly. You are to lay down your arms, surrender my
body to the Junta, and trust to the tender mercies of your rivals of
Tlatonac for judgment. These are the conditions, which, if not
accepted, will bring on us the thunderbolts of war from a Government
who have not a navy, and scarce an army. Your answer?"

Hitherto he had spoken in a low tone, clear and distinct, but
distinguished by no oratorical fire. At the last words, however, his
voice rang through the hall like thunder, and he repeated them with
emphasis.

"Your answer, Señores?"

"No! no! no! Viva Xuarez! Viva el gefe! Abaja, Gomez!"

Don Hypolito listened to those fierce responses with a smile of
pleasure on his usually immobile face, and when the clamour died away,
arose slowly to his feet. Facing the messengers of the Republic, he
addressed them sharply, laconically.

"You hear, Señores. Go!"

"You refuse!" said Don Alonzo, scarcely able to believe his ears.

"I refuse to surrender myself to your tyrants. The people of Acauhtzin
refuse to lay down their arms. Between myself and the illegal Junta now
sitting at Tlatonac, there is no friendship, no trust, no faith. They
proclaim me a rebel! I, Hypolito Xuarez, proclaim war!"

He flung up his hand with a fiery gesture, and as he did so a hundred
swords flashed from their scabbards.

"War!" cried those in the hall. "War! Viva Xuarez!"

Don Alonzo tore the message of the Republic in twain, and cast the
pieces at the foot of the dais whereon Xuarez was seated.

"So be it!" he cried, turning his back, "War!"

"Hold!" said Xuarez, in a voice of thunder. "You came, Señores, under
the protection of the English flag. You go with the opal banner flying
at your masthead. Such a precaution was useless. I am not a barbarian
to fire on a flag of truce; but you--you, Señores, are cowards to thus
distrust an honourable foe."

Before the Intendante could speak, Philip sprang forward, and faced the
speaker.

"The fault, Señor, if fault it be, is mine. The vessel in which we came
is English, and, therefore, flies the English flag. In the port, I
hoisted the opal banner, to show that these gentlemen were on board,
and had come on a mission from the Junta."

"An excellent explanation!" sneered Hypolito, frowning; "but untrue!"

"Señor!"

"Untrue, I say! You thought I would fire on your ship! You looked on me
as a barbaric foe! You mistrusted me!"

"And who would not?" said Jack's deep voice savagely, "who would not
mistrust one who makes war on women?"

"Be quiet, Jack."

"I do not understand you, Señor Duval," said Xuarez, who knew the young
engineer quite well. "Explain!"

"Doña Dolores, the niece of Don Miguel Maraquando, has been kidnapped
from Tlatonac! I accuse you of carrying her off."

"I deny it, Señor! It is false," cried the rebel leader, a flush
reddening the marble whiteness of his face. "Doña Dolores is not in
Acauhtzin."

"She may not be here, Señor, but you know where she is!"

"I do not, Señor! You have no proof of what you say."

"Pepe, the zambo, a spy in your pay, carried off a woman from
Tlatonac," cried Rafael, stepping forward. "That woman was my cousin,
Dolores."

Xuarez started, and spoke rapidly to one of his officers, who thereupon
left the room.

"Ah! you know much, Señor," he resumed, scornfully; "but you are wrong;
the zambo was my spy----"

"Carambo!"

"I repeat he was my spy in Tlatonac," said Xuarez, coolly; "and he left
the city with a plan of your fortifications."

"Por todos Santos," roared Garibay, fiercely, clapping his hand on his
sword.

"Call on whom you like, Señor Commandante! I have no reason to hide
this from you or from the Junta, else would I have kept silent. I know
when to hold my tongue, Señores; I know when to speak! I speak now! Go
back and tell your President that I have a full plan of Tlatonac in my
possession, and that I will use it to take your city, and level its
walls to the ground."

"If you can do so!" said Garibay, tauntingly.

"If I can do so. As you say," replied Xuarez, suddenly recognising that
this controversy was unworthy of his rank; "we need say no more on that
subject. Ha!" he added, as the officers, with a man and a woman,
entered the hall, "here is Pepe! and here, Señores, is the woman he
carried off."

The woman threw back her rebozo.

"Marina!" cried Jack, in despair.

"You see, Señores," said Don Hypolito, serenely, "I am not the base one
you think me to be."

"I'm not so sure of that," muttered Tim, under his breath.

"But this, Señores, is outside the question. You came to me with a
message from the Junta. I have answered that message. Go! Go, and carry
back to Tlatonac my defiance and that of Acauhtzin. Sail away under
your opal flag, caballeros, and I promise you my guns will respect your
vessel. Adios. Go!"

He pointed imperiously down the hall to where the great doors stood
wide open, and, headed by Don Alonzo, the deputation retired. Rafael
was biting his lips with rage, and Garibay was swearing under his
breath. The exit was scarcely dignified or worthy of the greatness of
the Republic.

"I never felt so mean in my life," whispered Philip to Tim. "What a
beast the man is!"

"And you said he was a great man!"

"So he is. But even great men are human. Xuarez is not perfect; but I
believe he is honourable as regards rules of warfare. We can leave the
harbour in safety."

"I doubt that, my boy," said Tim, significantly; "the man's a liar!"

"What!" said Jack, overhearing this; "do you think that Dolores----?"

"I think that he knows where she is."

"Then I'll stay here till he gives her up."

"You'll stay here a long time, then. She is not in Acauhtzin."

"Then where is she?"

"It's more nor I know."

They were marching down the street on their way to the sea-gate,
surrounded by their own soldiers and a troop of the Regimiento de
Huitzilopochtli. Around this living barrier raged the populace, who had
heard of the message sent by the Republic, demanding the surrender of
Xuarez, and were mad with anger. To give up the idol of their
hearts--the man on whom the glorious future of Acauhtzin depended! It
was an insult! If they could have got at the emissaries, they would
have torn them to pieces; but, fortunately, the line of soldiers
prevented this. Don Alonzo was pale with terror, but Rafael and Garibay
swore loudly at the rebel crowd. The three Englishmen smiled scornfully
and marched serenely along, not heeding the savage howling of the mob,
which recognised them as foreigners.

"Abajo los Americanos! Mueran los Yankies!"

"We would have rather a hard time out there," said Philip, as Tim, his
huge frame shaking with anger, ranged alongside of him. "Keep together
boys. Where's Jack?"

"Behind, with Don Rafael. Don't trouble, Philip; Jack Duval has his
six-shooter on him."

"Good! I hope I am not a coward," said the baronet, serenely, as a clod
of earth hit him on the shoulder; "but I will be glad when we are safe
on board _The Bohemian_."

"So will I. This is like Donnybrook Fair. But we're nearly outside the
town. Glory be to the saints!"

As they approached the gate, the fury of the mob increased, and it took
all the strength of the soldiers, tramping shoulder to shoulder, to
prevent them breaking through and falling on the emissaries of the
Junta. At the gate, however, a soldier stumbled and fell, whereon,
through the gap thus formed, a torrent of men rushed, shouting wildly.
The escort fought bravely, and the rebel soldiers did their best to
save the ambassadors. It would be a disgrace to Acauhtzin to let the
mob have their will.

Inch by inch they fought their way down to the sea-shore, surrounded by
the howling multitude. Philip knocked down a man who tried to snatch
his watch-chain, and Tim, head and shoulders above the torrent of
humanity, whacked every head he saw heartily with his heavy stick.
"When you see a head, hit it." That was Tim's rule of warfare. He
picked it up at Donnybrook Fair, and applied it practically in his
present predicament.

At the water's edge they were hurried into several boats, and amid a
shower of stones and mud, managed to get on board the yacht. As soon as
all were on deck, Benker, without waiting for instructions, started the
boat. Philip stood at the side of the ship and shook his fist at the
shore.

"You scoundrels!" he raged, fiercely. "You dishonourable wretches."

"And Xuarez is a great man," scoffed Tim, wiping the blood from his
face.

"Well," retorted Philip, viciously, "he's not responsible for this
mob."

"When we return," swore Rafael, who stood near him, "we will level
those walls with the sand."

By this time the yacht had passed out of the harbour, and was steaming
between the two war-ships. Don Alonzo began to recover his courage.

"Thanks to the Holy Virgin, we are all safe, Señores," he said, in a
trembling voice. "The Junta will bitterly resent this insult shown to
the Intendante of Xicotencatl."

Philip looked around with an alarmed expression of countenance.

"Where's Jack?"

"Jack!" cried Tim, in a stentorian voice.

There was no answer.

"Señor Juan was with me," said Rafael, quickly, "but I lost him from my
side outside the gate."

"He must be down below," said Philip, greatly disturbed, and went off
to the cabin. In a few moments he reappeared.

"He is not there. My God! Can he be lost?"

The yacht was searched thoroughly, but no trace of Jack Duval could be
found. Philip wanted to put back and rescue his friend, who had been
evidently left ashore.

"Impossible, Señor!" cried Don Alonzo, in alarm; "it is dangerous."

"I do not care. Do you think I am going to leave my dear friend to be
torn to pieces by these savages?" raged Philip, stamping his foot.

"The soldiers will protect him," said Garibay, who was terribly upset
at the discovery of their loss. He was very fond of Jack.

"Did they protect us?" said Tim, who was quite beside himself with
grief and rage. "Turn her head back, Philip."

Don Rafael, Tim, and the baronet were all in favour of doing this, but
Don Alonzo and Garibay said it would be madness. By this time they were
beyond the range of the fort guns, and in safety; but notwithstanding
the remonstrances of the terrified Intendante, Philip altered the
course of the boat, and started back to the harbour.

"I will save Jack, if I die for it," he said, fiercely.

Just as _The Bohemian_ approached the warships, a puff of smoke burst
from the sides of both, and two balls ricochetted across the waves.

"Not blank cartridge this time," muttered Tim, grimly, "The dirty
cowards, to fire on an unarmed boat. And the forts!"

One! two! three! four! A perfect cannonade thundered from the forts,
and one of the spars of the boat was carried away. The warships
repeated their fire, and, against his will, Philip was forced to stop
the engines. It was no use running into a hornet's nest. Another
quarter of a mile, nay less, and _The Bohemian_ would be smashed to
pieces. The engines were reversed, and Philip shook his fist wildly at
the town.

"First Dolores! then Jack! Oh, cursed, cursed town!"




CHAPTER IV.

RIVALS.

    I this side! You that side!--a woman between us,
    You love her!--I love her!--each fain would caress her.
    By Paul, I will never surrender this Venus,
    For I in my arms would for ever possess her.

    You say that she loves you! A lie!--for she told me
    Her heart had no caring for love or for lover.
    Let her but a moment behold you! behold me!
    And he whom she chooses we'll quickly discover.

    Well, say!--we'll suppose it!--to you she is tender!
    And goes with you thither; while I remain lonely,
    Think you that this woman I thus would surrender?
    Nay! she shall remain with me! mine to be only.

    Why, you are my captive! but though I can slay you!
    Give over this folly--you'll find me a true man!
    Nay more, you are free, honoured, wealthy--what say you?
    What madman refuse you!--then lose life and woman.


Jack recovered his senses in complete darkness. He put his hand to his
head and heard the clank of a fetter, felt the cold iron clasp his
wrist. He moved his legs, more chains, and the unexpected discovery
that he was lying on straw. Not a ray of light anywhere to be seen. On
all sides darkness, the darkness of Egypt. Rolling heavily to one side
with a groan of pain forced from him by his aching head, he felt the
cold chill of a stone floor. Straw, chains, stones, darkness! What did
it all mean? He tried to think, but his head was confused, stunned as
with a blow. It was a blow! For at the back of his cranium he felt a
wound, his fingers were moist with his own blood.

Slowly, slowly, his scattered senses came back to him, and he strove to
recall all that had taken place since he had left the Palacio Nacional.
Yes! he had gone down the street with the rest of his friends. Rafael
had walked by his side, Philip and Tim had marched on in front. Then
the howling mob on all sides dashing itself against the lines of
soldiers. A dragoon had fallen by the sea-gate just as they were on the
verge of safety--the mob rushed in through the gap--then he remembered
fighting desperately--a blow on the head--a cowardly blow delivered
from behind, and he remembered no more. Remembrance ceased with that
blow, it revived again here in darkness, with him lying on a straw bed
chained like a prisoner. A prisoner! Jack saw his position in a
moment--he was in prison, at the mercy of his rival, of the lover of
Dolores, of Don Hypolito Xuarez, rebel and traitor.

"Great Heaven," moaned Jack, as the horrors of his situation slowly
dawned on his confused brain, "this must all have been designed by that
scoundrel, Xuarez. His promises that we should go unscathed were all
lies. Philip! Tim! poor Rafael! Where are they now? Perhaps in this
accursed prison."

It was so dark that he was afraid to move lest he should fall into
danger. At length he put out his hand cautiously, and, kneeling
forward, felt all round his bed. The straw was simply thrown on the
floor in a heap, and on three sides he found nothing but the pavement,
on the fourth the massive stones of the wall. Unexpectedly his hand
touched a crock of water, and drawing this towards him, he found it
full, much to his delight, as, owing to his wound, he was consumed with
a burning thirst. After taking a good draught, he sat back on his straw
to think of what he should do next.

Jack was always cool in time of danger. The obstacles which would have
appalled other men only sharpened his wits, and as his brain was now
clearer, he set himself to work to think over the situation. Before
doing this, however, he soaked his handkerchief in the little water
remaining at the bottom of the crock, and bound it round his head. The
cool cloth somewhat assuaged the throbbing of his wound and thus
quieted his heated brain.

On leaving Tlatonac, Jack and his friends had doffed their fine
uniforms as likely to compromise them in the eyes of Xuarez, and
reassumed their European garb. He was, therefore, dressed in a Norfolk
jacket, with trousers of rough blue serge, these latter being tucked
into high riding-boots of untanned leather. The pith helmet he had worn
had evidently been knocked off in the struggle at the sea-gate, as his
head was bare; but, on feeling his pockets, he found everything else
was safe. Money, knife, keys, they were all there; but his revolver was
gone, a loss which he much regretted.

The first thing he did was to remove his fetters, which he managed with
some difficulty and the assistance of his knife. Luckily they were only
of light steel, and had evidently been put on more through the
malignity of Xuarez than because they prevented his escape. Indeed, it
was a useless precaution, for, even now that they were removed, he knew
not where he was, and in which direction to turn for egress. With his
knife he managed to bend back the links of one chain so that it parted,
leaving the steel ring still on the wrist; but, with considerable pain
to his hand, he managed to slip it through the other. As regards the
rings round his ankles, Jack was unusually powerful, and, in spite of
his wound, with the strength of despair, managed to wrench the locks of
the chains asunder. The steel chains were old and badly made, else he
would not have freed himself so easily; but as it was, after
half-an-hour's hard work, he managed to get rid of the chains, and
stood up with no manacles on him, save the steel ring on his left
wrist, with a few links dangling therefrom.

Free so far, he next placed his head against the rough damp stones of
the wall, and cautiously moved round his cell. A few steps from his bed
brought him against another wall, at right angles to the former.
Following this, he soon arrived at the other side of the prison, and
felt his way along the opposite wall. Towards the end of this, he
stumbled over a flight of squat, stone steps, projecting into the
prison, and by careful touching, managed to ascertain that those led up
to a low door of wood, clasped with iron. Beyond, a short space, and
another wall, at right angles, and so back to his straw bed, on which
he resumed his seat.

"Fifteen by twenty," muttered Jack, taking another drink of water, "and
steps leading down from the door. Damp walls too. I guess this cage is
in the basement of one of the forts, or below the Palacio Nacional.
That cursed Xuarez! One of his men stunned me in that fight with a foul
blow, and they then clapped me in here. I wonder what he intends to do
with me. He knows I love Dolores, and am his rival; so I expect he'll
make things pretty hot for me, if he can. Well, at all events, my life
is safe, for what with Philip and Tim to stand by me, he dare not kill
me."

Then a sudden dread entered his mind regarding Philip and the war
correspondent.

"If they should be killed in that row, or clapped in prison also! No, I
don't believe that. Putting Philip out of the question, Xuarez is too
cunning to hurt a war correspondent of a great English paper. He wants
to stand well with the world in this struggle, and would not dare to
risk the outcry of anything happening to Tim. I expect they all got
back safely to the yacht. Xuarez could afford to let them go with his
defiance to Tlatonac. He only wanted me because I am his rival in the
affections of Dolores. The question is, has he got her in his power
also? He says 'no,' but the man's a liar, whom it is impossible to
believe. Hang this wound."

It was burning with heat, and taking off the bandage, he dipped it into
the dregs of water remaining. Then he bound it over the wound again,
and took out his watch, which luckily had not been stolen, as it was
safely stowed inside his Norfolk jacket. With his fingers, he
delicately felt the hands.

"Six o'clock!" he said, somewhat startled; "and we left the palace at
three. I've been three hours in this cursed hole. It must be still
light, or, rather, twilight; so, as it is here as dark as pitch, this
cell must be built far down. Hang them! do they intend to starve me?"

He felt vainly for the traditional loaf of bread, which always
accompanies the pitcher of water in prisons, but, to his dismay, could
find none. This pointed to one of two things. Either Xuarez intended to
starve him to death, or would visit him shortly with a meal. He would
not dare to do the former, as Jack, feeling sure his friends had
escaped, knew the outcry of these against the rebel leader would be
great, did he carry his hatred so far; and as to the latter, the young
man hopefully waited, in the hope that his gaoler would soon arrive.

"He won't come himself, I suppose," said Jack, throwing himself down on
his straw; "some soldiers will come and escort me to the upper world.
Hang it! if the man isn't a thorough blackguard, he'll let me have a
meal and a doctor. My head is aching like, to split. Even a candle
would be acceptable in this infernal gloom."

Clearly there was nothing for it but to wait till some one entered the
cell. Jack was too wise to waste his time in kicking at the door, or
exhaust his strength in shouting for help. He was in the power of
Xuarez, and it depended on future events as to how matters would turn
out. Of one thing Jack felt confident, and that was that even if Philip
and the others reached the yacht in safety they could do nothing.

"I guess Xuarez brought the guns to bear on _The Bohemian_, and
ordered Philip to clear out. He could do nothing against that order, so
I expect the boat is by this time on her way back to Tlatonac with the
news of my capture or death. I'll have to wait here until the Junta
captures the town, and Lord only knows when that will be. I wouldn't
mind so much if I only knew of the whereabouts of Dolores."

Thus talking to himself, in order to keep up his spirits, this
unfortunate young man sat for some considerable time, waiting with
philosophic resignation the turn of events. By means of his watch, he
calculated that it was close on eight o'clock before he was disturbed.
Then he heard the sound of a bolt slipping out of its socket, the door
of his cell opened, and a man appeared. A man draped in a long black
cloak, flung Spanish fashion over his left shoulder, and wearing a
broad-leaved sombrero which effectually concealed his features. He
carried a lantern which illuminated the cell with a sufficiently feeble
light, but it was comforting to Jack, after the intense darkness of the
previous hours, and enabled him to see whom was his visitor.

The stranger closed the door of the cell, descended the steps, and
advanced towards Jack, swinging the lantern to and fro so as to flash
the light into every corner of the small room. That squat figure, that
ungraceful walk; Jack recognised him at once. Notwithstanding the
sombrero, the long cloak, the silence observed by the man, his prisoner
at once saluted him by name.

"So this is how you keep your prisoners, Don Hypolito Xuarez?"

Xuarez started at being thus recognised so speedily, but restraining
his speech, flashed the lantern up and down Jack's tall figure as he
leaned against the wall, and started again.

"Carambo! You are free! The chains----"

"Are there, Señor!"

The rebel leader looked first at the broken chains afterwards at Jack,
and seemed to regard his prisoner as a kind of Samson. He had a
profound respect for physical strength, for physical beauty; and the
splendid frame of the young Englishman, in conjunction with this
evidence of his muscles, inspired Don Hypolito with great admiration.

"Bueno, Señor Duval!" he said, in the frank tone of a man who cherishes
no animosity, "you are a difficult person to deal with. You have broken
your chains! Had I not arrived thus opportunely, you might by this time
have broken out of prison."

"It's not impossible, Señor," replied Jack, coolly. "You may be certain
I would not have sat down much longer doing nothing. But now----"

"You are thinking of making use of my presence here to facilitate your
escape. Is it not so, mi amigo? If you are wise, do not try. You may
knock me down--I am but a dwarf beside you! You may steal these keys,
this lantern; but you know not the palace, you know not the guards,
and, above all, even if you did get free, you could not escape from
Acauhtzin. No, mi amigo! Here you are! here you stay, unless you agree
to my conditions."

"Conditions!" echoed Jack, scornfully. "I think I can guess what those
conditions are, Señor Xuarez."

"Bueno! Then I can save my breath," replied Don Hypolito, setting down
the lantern. "If you know the conditions of your release, you also know
whether to accept them or not! Speak plainly, mi amigo!"

"Don Hypolito," observed Jack, not answering this question directly, "I
do not know whether to regard you as a knave or a fool. You must be the
former, else you had not betrayed me and my friends. You are the
latter, or you would not ask me to agree to certain conditions which
you know are quite impossible--with me?"

"You have the great merit, Señor Duval, of candour. I admire it as a
virtue, but it can be carried too far. I do not like being called knave
or fool, as I deserve neither name."

"Is that so? Good! I say you are both! However, I am open to argument;
so let me hear your side of the question."

Don Hypolito laughed quietly, and eyed his rival with increased
respect.

"I wish you were on my side, Don Juan. A man such as you would be
invaluable to me."

"I thank you for your good opinion, Señor; but I am not on your side,
neither am I likely to be. I support the established Government of
Cholacaca."

"You are a--but no," said Xuarez, checking himself with a sardonic
smile; "we have no time to discuss politics. All are against me now,
but when I am seated in the presidential chair, the world will be in my
favour. To-day, Señor, I am an adventurer. To-morrow I will be a
conqueror. Success is everything in the eyes of the world. However, we
need not talk of these things which do not interest you. I notice you
have not yet asked after your friends."

"Why should I, Don Hypolito?" replied Jack, determined to show no signs
of anxiety in the presence of this man. "I know that my friends are
safe, and are at present on their way to Tlatonac."

"It is true, but how did you guess this much, Don Juan?"

"From what I know of your character."

"Pardon me, Señor, no one knows my character," said Xuarez, quietly.

"Not your real character, perhaps, but the character by which you
choose to be known to the world."

The nonchalance of the young Englishman somewhat puzzled Xuarez. Here
was a man talking quietly with one whom he had every reason to hate and
dread. Wounded as he was, incarcerated in a gloomy cell; in doubt as to
the safety of his friends, the whereabouts of his sweetheart--Jack had
yet sufficient pluck to conceal his real feelings, and play a part
which entirely deceived even so acute an observer of human nature as
Don Hypolito. He saw that Jack was purposely holding himself back
instead of giving way to his righteous indignation, but while admiring
the self-restraint of the young man, he was doubtful as to the meaning
of such diplomatic conduct.

Experience had taught Don Hypolito that the only way to fathom the
feelings of others was to make them talk freely, listen attentively,
and draw conclusions from chance observations. This method he now
applied to Jack, and asked him to proceed in a grave tone of voice, all
the time keeping his ears open to find out the underlying meaning of
this impassive demeanour. He discovered nothing, because there was
nothing to discover. Jack spoke truthfully and bluntly, giving voice to
his real feelings, and Xuarez, accustomed to double dealing, to double
meaning, was for once in his life utterly at fault.

"You have started this war, Señor," said Jack with painful candour,
"entirely for your own ends. The excuse you make is that Gomez has
broken the constitution of Cholacaca. This is false, as you know well.
However, it is a good excuse upon which to work out your aims. In this
war you wish the civilised world to be on your side--to look upon you
as a great man, fitted to be the saviour of Cholacaca from a tyrannical
Government. To this end you dare not act violently towards any
representative nation of the civilised world. England is a
representative nation, and you to-day saluted her flag. You respected
the ambassadors from the Junta because they were accompanied by
Englishmen, because they came here on an English ship. One of those men
whom you thus respected is the war correspondent of a London paper, and
you wished him of write home to his journal narrating the courtesy of
Don Hypolito Xuarez, and thus interesting our nation's feelings in your
favour. The attack made by the mob was, I firmly believe, made without
your sanction. You wished the embassy to depart in safety, and they so
departed. One man, however, you desired to detain, because he was your
rival in the affections of a woman. That man is myself! So you made use
of the riot to have me knocked down in the fight, and taken here to
prison. Now that you think I am worn out with wounds, thirst, and
imprisonment, you come to offer me my liberty on two conditions. First,
that I surrender all right to the hand of Doña Dolores. Second, that I
leave Cholacaca for ever. These, Señor Xuarez, are your motives in
acting as you have done, dictated, as I said before, not, perhaps, by
your real character, but by the noble character in which you wish to
appear to the world."

Don Hypolito listened to this long speech with rapt attention, and
could not help admiring the way in which the young man had fathomed his
motives. When Jack ended, he raised his head and proceeded to
lie--uselessly, as it afterwards proved--still he lied.

"In a great measure, what you say is correct, Don Juan. I do wish to
stand well with the nations, of Europe, because I believe my cause to
be a just one. Gomez was elected President by the aristocrats, not by
the people. I believe in democracy. He governs so as to throw the whole
power of the state into the hands of those who would take away the
liberties of the people, won so gloriously by Zuloaga. You say I have
begun this war from a personal ambition. That may be so. I wish to be
Dictator--Supreme Dictator of the Republic, and to raise her to her
rightful position as a power in the world. These, Señor, are political
and personal questions. They need not be discussed. What you say about
the embassy is true. Had the boat of Señor Felipe entered the harbour
under the opal flag, I would have ordered the fort guns to sink her for
such audacity. She however carried the English ensign. I respected that
ensign; I received the deputation; I heard the insolent demand of the
Junta, and gave my answer. They were free to depart without hindrance
from me. The outbreak of the mob was solely due to the message sent. I
did not create the riot. I did not make use of the tumult to get you
into my power. But when in the mêlée you were stunned, my soldiers
carried you off to the Palacio Nacional. I saw an opportunity of
gaining my ends by thus having you in my power, and so put you in this
prison. Now I come to make my terms. Accept them, and you are free.
Refuse, and a terrible fate will befall you!"

"To remain in prison here, I suppose?" said Jack, contemptuously.

"No; worse!"

"What, would you kill me?"

"I will not harm a hair of your head. What your fate will be I refuse
to tell you; but if you are a wise man you will accept my offer of
freedom."

"And accept your conditions also. The conditions being those I have
stated?"

"Precisely! You have rare penetration, Don Juan! My conditions are as
you have guessed. Give up Doña Dolores! leave Cholacaca, and you are
free."

"I refuse."

"Think well, Señor," said Xuarez, coldly. "I am not a man to threaten
in vain. Your fate will be a terrible one."

"I quite believe you capable of any enormity, Don Hypolito," retorted
Jack, with a curling lip; "but why waste any more time over the matter?
I refuse!"

"On what grounds?"

"On what grounds?" reiterated Jack, in a haughty tone. "Simply that it
does not suit my convenience either to give up Doña Dolores or to leave
Cholacaca at your bidding."

Xuarez was nettled at Jack's elaborately insulting manner; but he did
not lose his temper. He was too clever a man to do that. With a sudden
change of front, he took a hint from card-players, and tried to force
Jack's hand.

"You love Doña Dolores?"

"That is not a question for you to ask."

"Pardon me, Señor; I also love Doña Dolores, therefore I am interested
in your reply."

"Are you?" said Jack, facing his questioner sharply; "then you shall
have it. I do love Doña Dolores; and, what is more, she returns that
love. One person only will she marry, and that person is myself, John
Duval!"

"You will never marry her!" exclaimed Xuarez, vehemently. "She is
mine!--mine! Before a month is gone, she becomes my wife!"

"Ah!" sneered Jack, with a world of meaning in his tone, "I knew you
lied when you said she was not in Acauhtzin."

"Carrai!" cried Don Hypolito, who was beginning to lose his temper; "I
did not lie. She is not in Acauhtzin. She is----"

"Where?" asked Duval, impetuously.

"In a place you will never discover, Señor. Not that it matters much,
for, in any case, you will not marry her. No! You are reserved for a
worse fate!--a fate which will bitterly punish you for daring to be my
rival."

"I am not a child, to be frightened of big words," said Jack,
scornfully, though his heart quailed at the deadly menace of the
Mestizo's tones. "My friends know I am in Acauhtzin. They will come
back for me."

"They have already tried to do so," retorted Xuarez, triumphantly.
"When they left the harbour, I suppose they discovered you were left
behind. The boat returned; but a few shot from the forts, and the
war-ships made her retreat, and when I last saw her she was steaming
full speed for Tlatonac."

"Yes? I knew as much. To bring back an army to level Acauhtzin to the
ground. To capture you! to rescue me!"

"No one can rescue you!" replied Xuarez, in a sombre tone. "Your only
chance of escape is to give up Doña Dolores!"

"To you! to you!" cried Jack, fiercely. "You who love her not for
herself, but because she is the guardian of the opal stone! Ah, yes,
Señor Xuarez! I know well what you design. You wish to marry
Dolores--to secure the opal stone, to gain over the Indians to your
cause. All ambition; there is no love. I tell you, Señor, such a thing
can never be. Dolores would sooner die than give herself up to a
villain like yourself. You will never possess Dolores--you will never
be master of the Chalchuih Tlatonac! Turn your ambitions to other
things, Don Hypolito. Dolores is not for you!"

Don Hypolito sprang to his feet with a cry of rage. Hitherto he had
restrained himself in a most admirable manner; but now the insulting
speeches of his prisoner proved too much for even his well-trained
temper. A torrent of passion swept away all his reserve, and he burst
out into a furious speech.

"Dolores _is_ for me! She will be mine in another week or so. She
is the guardian of the opal, and that also will be mine. When I am
possessed of the devil stone, the Indians will flock round my standard.
I have the fleet, I have an army, I will have the Indians, too, my
allies, guided by the devil stone. That, also, will be mine, and
Dolores with it. I will become Dictator of Cholacaca. I will raise her
to a pinnacle of power. She will rule the South--nay, the North also.
Mexico, Venezuela, Nicaragua, Guatemala, they will all be mine. In the
North, the United States; in the South, the Empire of the Opal, with
myself as Ruler. It is a grand----"

"Dream!" interrupted Jack, faintly, for the pain of his wound was
telling on his frame. "It is a dream! a dream!"

"It is no dream! Or, if a dream, it will soon turn out a reality. And
you--you low-born Englishman, would dare to bar my way to this fame.
Lie there, Señor, and wait my commands. You will die, and by a death
which will break even your spirit. You will die and be forgotten, while
I, Hypolito Xuarez, will reconstruct on this continent the Empire of
Montezuma!"

He spoke to deaf ears, for, overcome by fatigue and pain, Duval had
fainted. Xuarez bent over him, and held the lantern to his face. It was
deadly pale, and the eyes were closed.

"I do not want him to die," muttered the remorseless Mestizo, going
towards the door. "I shall send a doctor to look after his wound. He
shall be made whole again, but only to perish in tortures. Not for you,
Don Juan, is Dolores; not for you the opal, but death and dishonour.
You fall! I rise! My star quenches yours in its burning splendour."

In another moment he had quitted the prison, leaving his rival
stretched out in the darkness, to all appearances lifeless and lost.




CHAPTER V.

IN SHADOWLAND.

    Weary body, aching brain,
    Tortured mind, and heavy soul,
    Fourfold being, one existence!
    Life with troublous insistence,
    To ye brings but constant dole,
    Ceaseless weeping, endless pain;
    Yet is all this sorrow vain
    When the waves of slumber roll
    Over body, over soul.
    In such slumber should ye list, hence
    Flies the spirit to attain
    That far land of dreams and stories,
    Misty realms of airy glories,
    Where the body hath no being,
    Nor the eyes an earthly seeing
    And the mind makes no resistance
    To events which overleap
    Nature's laws, which bind existence;
    From our sphere the spirit fleeing
    Dwells but in the realm of sleep.


After that extraordinary interview with Don Hypolito in the prison,
Jack ceased to take any interest in earthly matters, and went for a
space into shadow-land. He was not dead, but delirious. As a captive
balloon is anchored to earth, so Jack's soul had flown into the realms
of dream, yet was held to his body by a small amount of life.

Yet curiously enough he retained a dull impression of earthly events.
All things actually done to his body coloured his dreams and decided
his visions. As the fancies of the sleepers are determined by external
actions, so as through a veil the wounded man faintly perceived the
every-day life going on around his inert body. Through the chain
extending from body to soul which held the latter captive to earth
passed the thrills hinting at corporeal-existence, and these dominating
his spirituality whirled him hither and thither, according as they
happened. We in health feel in slumber the power of the unseen world
guiding our every action; this man, in sickness dwelt, spiritually
speaking, in the world of shadows, whereof we have no knowledge, and
therefrom felt rather than saw the happening of earthly events which
coloured his ghostly being.

Oh those dreams, those visions apocalyptical, what agonies, what
ecstacies, what feelings did they not beget? Now of earth, now of
heaven, frequently of hell. Years afterwards, Jack remembering portions
of these fantasies, would shudder and turn pale at the mere thought of
having endured them. Wild as the visions of Ezekiel, gorgeous as the
Arabian Nights, hideous as De Quincey's dreamings, delicate and
spiritual as the songs of Aeriel, those chimeras, at once terrible and
fascinating, racked his spiritual being with the pangs of pleasure and
pain. As thus:--

... Darkness! the infinite darkness of chaos, before the light-creating
word was spoken by the Deity. Ages and ages and ages of gloom, of
horror, of thick opacity. No light, no glimmer, no glow to break this
all-pervading blackness. No earth beneath, no sky above, nothing but
clinging gloom on all sides. So chill, so freezing--surely hell were
not more terrible....

Ha! a burst of light penetrating the gloom. The word is spoken, the
light is here.... Day divides itself from night ... from the womb of
the darkness springs the faint radiance of dawn. Then the sun, the
glorious sun, rises like a god to conquer the foul fiends of shadow.
See how his arrows fly, golden and swift, from his never-empty bow ...
east, west, north, south ... and the glory of light spreads over all
creation.... I am borne along on the wings of a mighty wind blown from
the gates of the dawn ... faster and faster and faster.... I swim
through the crystalline air.... I poise myself like a bird in the
opaline glories of a whirling sphere.... In the heart of the rainbow
... still no earth ... but air and the coruscation of infinite
colours--red and yellow and green and blue.... They swirl in circles,
they shoot on all sides from a spot of brilliance as the spokes of a
wheel.... They range themselves in lines of ever-changing hues ... and
now I am blown resistlessly onward by that mighty wind....

The sea! gloom once more! I can see nothing but darkness, yet
penetrated by faint gleams of light.... The wash of many waves break on
my ears.... Overhead a sky veiled in clouds, beneath the black breast
of ocean, heaving restlessly in white lines of foam.... I smell the
salt brine of the ocean.... The keen wind lashes my face as with a
whip.... Ho! yeo, ho!... the sailors are at work.... Hark! the throb of
a heart. Beat! beat! beat! beat! It is the beating of the propeller
blades now striking the water ... I am in the engine-room ... the
pistons slide silently in and out of the cylinders.... Now the giant
cranks rise and fall with monotonous motion ... and yon gleaming steel
shaft, revolving rapidly, turns the screw in the dark waters without
... the hiss of escaping steam ... the whirling of wheels ... the
sudden burst of red flame from the furnace ... I am carried across the
ocean ... whither?

Earth! at last the land.... Mother of all things, I salute thee ...
this bleak beach on which dash the waves ... the soft odour of the wind
sways the trees on yonder promontory.... I hear the measured dip of
oars ... the grating of the boat's keel on the stones.... Ha! I am in
the hands of demons ... their eyes glare as they lift me from boat to
litter.... The curtains are dropped, and I feel the swing and sway of
the litter being carried up steep heights....

This is a primeval forest ... green as the sea ... scarcely so restless
... the warm wind stirs the giant branches ... what crowded hues ...
and lo! the flash of brilliant flowers ... the odour of spices....
Brilliant birds flit from branch to branch like flying gems.... I hear
the singing of choirs invisible ... the birds!... Yes, birds only....
Garlands of flowers trail from the trees ... beneath their shadow the
grass is crowded with blossoms ... wherever I step a flower springs to
being ... those pools of still water blue as turquoise ... the Indian
conjurer!... I see him hiding amid the frondage ... look!... the
saurian!... Oh, the frightful monster.... Preadamite!... begotten in
chaos slime.... Trees! trees! trees without end.... The earth is one
vast forest, and I alone wander therein....

Snow!... a vast expanse of snow ... for miles and leagues.... No! it is
salt lying in thin flakes on the brown earth ... the surface glitters
in the moonlight as if it were ice.... Far and wide whirl thin white
pillars of salt in the grip of the wind.... Lot's wife! Ha! Ha! Nay, no
woman do I see, but salt on all hands ... like snow ... and moon
freezing crystals....

The forest again ... more trees ... birds ... odours.... Hark! a song
... 'tis the dancing-girls who sing ... I heard them call ... I see
them shake their anklets of gold ... the cymbals crash ... the trinkets
shine. Can you not hear the roll of the serpent-skin drums?...

Oh, this interminable avenue of stone gods ... on either side the faces
of solemn sphinxes.... I am in Egypt ... I go up to offer sacrifice to
the god Thoth ... lines of sphinxes ... statues of kings with their
hands placed on their knees ... then this great flight of steps.... Up,
and up and up.... Are we going to heaven?... I will bow down to my
God.... Horror! Huitzilopochtli.... This is not my God.... I sacrifice
to Thoth.... To Isis.... Ah, you would make of me the victim.... Oh,
foul priest, knife in hand ... the stone of the sacrifice ... you raise
the obsidian knife ... Again the chant of the priests ... the light
clash of the dancing-girls' anklets ... drums ... cymbals and death....

I am in the tomb ... yes; fold my hands on my breast, for I have done
with life ... straight and white I lie, with cerements swathing my form
... this is a king's tomb ... these walls are painted with many colours
... yonder are gods and kings and heroes walking in long files ... here
they sacrifice to their god ... there they lead captive trains of
prisoners.... A splendid tomb, but the roof crushes me down ... oh,
Heaven! can those pillars, those caryatides support the cyclopean
architecture?... It will fall and crush me, like Samson.... Yes, I
thirst! I am dead, but I thirst.... Dives in hell ... give me....

... What! a woman's face?... I have seen that face before ... those
dark eyes, that smiling mouth ... it is thou! Dolores! Oh, my heart's
best love, I again find you,--in the tomb?... we have done with life
... then we were divided; but Death, more merciful, has joined us
again.... Place your cool white hand on my brow ... it burns ... it
burns.... No, no! do not leave me ... oh, I see you fade in the
darkness like a vision ... and this phantom which rises between us?...
Oh, Xuarez! liar! thief! murderer!... thus do I slay thee!... So weak;
so weary; I know nothing ... where am I?... what am I?... whither have
my visions fled?... I am dead! not in hell, nor heaven ... but where? I
know not ... I am dead ... you, Dolores ... you, Xuarez ... you all,
dreams.... I lie here dead and still ... in my ear the chant of a
slave.... Could I only turn my head ... ah! the slave rises ... he
bends over me.... Cocom!...

"Yes, Señor, it is Cocom," said a well-known voice, as a gentle hand
skilfully adjusted the bandages.

"Cocom!" repeated Jack, in a weak voice. "Am I dead? Do I dream? Am I
dead?"

"No, Señor Juan. You were nearly dead, and for days you have dreamed of
many things. Now you are better, and will live."

"Still on earth?"

"Yes, Don Juan. Still do you live, thanks be to the gods. Teoyamiqui
has not yet brought you to her kingdom. Now, lie you still, Señor. So!
Drink this, and speak not; you are so weak."

Jack raised his head from the pillow, and greedily drank the contents
of the cup held to his lips by Cocom. Then he closed his eyes, and fell
into a refreshing sleep, while the old Indian sat quietly by the side
of the couch, muttering some strange old song of a forgotten
civilisation. Now and then a form would glide into the room and look at
Jack sleeping in the bed, so still, so deathlike. Sometimes a man, more
often a woman, and ever beside the couch sat the stolid Cocom, watching
the face of his patient with intense interest.

How long he slept thus Jack did not know, but when he woke from a
refreshing slumber all his delirium had departed. He felt weak, truly,
but clear-headed and calm in his mind. Opening his eyes, he listened
vaguely to the murmuring song of his attendant, and thought over the
events which had preceded his illness. The entry into Acauhtzin; the
dismissal of the deputation at the Palacio Nacional; the fight at the
sea-gate; the interview in prison with Don Hypolito; and then utter
blankness. He remembered fainting in the cell at Acauhtzin, and now he
had wakened--where? With an effort he raised his head and looked round
him.

In his delirium he had thought he was in a tomb, and truly the room
wherein he now found himself was not unlike one of those strange
Egyptian sepulchres, houses of the dead, wherein the highest art of
that sombre civilisation was displayed. This low roof, formed of
Titanic masses of stone; these heavy walls, gaudy with mural paintings,
representing gods, kings, heroes strange sacrifices, and mystical
ceremonies; all were redolent of the land of the Nile. Through a narrow
slit in the wall filtered a pale light; skins of jaguar and puma
carpeted the stone floor; rich coverlets of featherwork lay over the
couch, and the entrance was draped with gaudy tapestries, dyed with
confused tints, hinting at barbaric art. Jack, for the moment, thought
he was indeed in Egypt, when, suddenly, at the side of the room he saw
the hideous image of Huitzilopochtli, and heard the monotonous chant of
his Watcher. Then, his true situation came vividly to his mind; this
was a room in some Indian dwelling, yonder was the fierce god of the
Aztecs, and by his bedside knelt Cocom.

"Where am I?" asked the young man, raising himself on his elbow, and
looking at the Indian with a puzzled expression of countenance.

"In good hands, Señor," was the evasive answer.

"Yes, yes! I know that. But am I still in Acauhtzin?"

"No. You are many miles from Acauhtzin."

"But I was there last night."

Cocom shook his head, and, producing a cigarette, lighted it carefully,
blew some smoke through his nostrils, and looked steadily at Jack with
his melancholy eyes.

"You were there five days ago, Señor."

"What do you mean, Cocom?"

"Ah! the Señor forgets that he has been ill. For five days he has been
in the land of everlasting darkness. Cocom has watched many hours by
this couch and listened to the crying of the Señor. You have seen
visions and heard voices, Don Juan. On the borders of Teoyamiqui's land
have you been, yet not within her kingdom. But Cocom knows many things,
and by his art has cheated the goddess of one Americano. You are out of
danger now, Señor, and I, Cocom, have cured you."

"Mucha gracias!" murmured Jack, patting the Indian on the shoulder with
a weak hand; "but tell me where I am now."

"Where does your memory fail, Don Juan?"

Jack passed his hand across his brow. The confusion of his brain had
departed. His senses were clear now, and he could recall everything up
to a certain point.

"I remember the embassy from Tlatonac to Acauhtzin--the fight at the
sea-gate. There I was struck down, and recovered my senses in prison.
With Don Hypolito I held a long conversation, and, I suppose, fainted
with his voice still in my ears. I wake here at a place you tell me is
far from Acauhtzin, and find you by my side--you, Cocom, whom I
supposed to be at Tlatonac!"

"Listen, Don Juan," said Cocom, with great deliberation. "I will tell
you many things that have taken place since your soul was in the realm
of shadows. When you became insensible at Acauhtzin, a doctor was sent
to attend to you by Don Hypolito. That doctor did what he could for
you, but thought you would die as your soul was not within your body.
Wildly did you cry, Don Juan, and many strange things did you say.
Then, by the order of Don Hypolito, you were carried away on board a
war-ship down the coast. At a certain point your body was taken ashore
in a boat, and there delivered to certain people, who expected your
coming. Having been placed on a litter, you were carried through the
forest, across the salt desert, and again through the forest till you
were placed on that bed. For two days have you tossed and turned, and
cried, and fought. But now you are well, Don Juan--you will live;
thanks be to the gods."

Jack listened to all this as in a dream. The explanation fitted in with
those vague visions which had haunted his delirious brain. The
darkness--that was the cell at Acauhtzin; the light came when he was
carried on board the war-ship. Then the sea-vision, the landing on the
coast--that mirage of a tropical forest--the snowy plains of salt, and
the climbing of many steps up to an antique temple. A sudden thrill
shot through his enfeebled frame as he recalled the vision of the
sacrifice, he recollected Cocom's last words referring to the gods, he
glanced terrified at the frightful image of Huitzilopochtli, and
turning slowly towards the Indian, repeated his often-asked question,
the answer to which he already guessed.

"What is this place?"

Cocom arose to his feet, drew himself up to his full height, and
pointed majestically towards the idol.

"The temple of Huitzilopochtli! The shrine of the Chalchuih Tlatonac."

"God!" cried Jack, in despair, as he recognised his position. "I am
lost!"

He saw his peril at a glance. The threats of Don Hypolito regarding a
frightful death were not mere words. With devilish ingenuity he had
secured the death of his rival, with no possible chance of the truth
becoming known. Jack saw that Xuarez had preserved his life, had
delivered him to the Indians, to the end that he might be offered up on
the altar of the war-god, as a sacrifice to the opal. No wonder his
usually brave heart quailed at the prospect of such horrors. Captive to
remorseless savages, in the heart of an impenetrable forest, there was
no chance of a rescue by his friends. He was weak, unarmed, unfriended,
in the power of a fanatic race; there was no help for it--he must die.

"Cocom," whispered Jack, clutching the Indian's arm, "why have I been
brought here--why did Don Hypolito deliver me to the Indians? Is it
for--for----"

His dry lips refused to form the horrible word; but Cocom, without the
least emotion, supplied it.

"For sacrifice! Yes, Don Juan; you are to be offered to the god."

"Horrible! When?"

"In three weeks. At the termination of the great cycle."

"What do you mean?" asked Jack, with a shudder.

"Our time," explained Cocom, with stolid apathy, "is divided into
cycles of fifty-two years. This have we received from our Aztec
ancestors. At the end of a cycle the sun will die out in the heavens,
and the earth end, if the new fire is not lighted on the altars of the
gods. When the last day of the cycle comes, you, Don Juan, will be
bound on the stone of sacrifice, your heart will be taken out as an
offering to the great gods, and on your breast will the new fire be
lighted. Then will the sun rise again, and a new cycle begin for the
earth. The gods will be appeased, and mankind will be saved."

Jack had read of this terrible superstition in the fascinating pages of
Prescott, but he never expected that he would one day take an active
part in such a ceremony. With the hope of despair he endeavoured to
evade his doom.

"But the body of a white man will not please the gods. Why not
sacrifice as your ancestors did, on the Hill of the Star?"

"Hitherto, Señor, that has been done. Now, however, the gods have
spoken through the opal, and it is willed that a white man alone can
avert the end of time. A white man must be sacrificed, and you are
chosen."

Jack shuddered, and hid his face in his hands.

"Surely, Señor, you are not afraid!"

"Afraid!" echoed Jack, uncovering his face, with a frown. "No, Cocom;
an Englishman is never afraid of death. But to come in such a form as
this--oh, horrible! horrible!"

Cocom could not understand this alarm. Like all Indians, he regarded
death with stoical resignation, and would have been perfectly willing
himself to have been offered on the altar of sacrifice, seeing such a
death would admit him at once into the Paradise of the sun. But he was
very old, and therefore useless. The gods demanded a man, handsome,
young, in the flower of his age, and therefore was it certain that Jack
would be acceptable to the bloodthirsty Huitzilopochtli.

"Did Don Hypolito know this when he delivered me to your friends?"

"It was for that purpose he delivered you, Señor."

"Oh, fiend! devil!" cried Jack, trying to rise in his bed. "I wish I
had my fingers round his throat!"

"Lie quiet, Señor," said Cocom, forcing him back. "You will make
yourself ill again."

"Why should I not, seeing I am only reserved for this frightful death?"

"That is as it may be, Señor," observed Cocom, significantly.

"What do you mean?" asked Duval, with sudden hope.

"Hush!" replied the old man, laying his finger on his lips, and
glancing apprehensively around. "In this temple the very walls have
ears."

"You can save me?"

"Perhaps. I know not."

"But----"

Cocom bent over Jack on the pretence of arranging the bed-clothes, and
brought his lips close to the young man's ear.

"Say not a word, Señor. If the priests suspect me, you are lost. I come
hither as my fathers came before me, but I worship not the devil-stone.
I am a true Catholic, Señor. The priests wanted a victim, and asked me
to betray to them Don Pedro, when he was with me beyond the walls. Then
I refused, and said I could not do so. The end of the cycle approaches,
and the priests were alarmed, so they sent to Don Hypolito, and
promised to make all the Indians help him in his war, if he procured
them a white man for a victim to the gods. Don Hypolito promised, and
two days ago sent you."

"The fiends!"

"Hush! I am a medicine-man, placed here by the priests to cure you; but
they think I wish to see you sacrificed. I do not. I will save you."

"Oh, Cocom, I thank you."

"Are you mad, Señor?" whispered the Indian, thrusting him hurriedly
back; "eyes may be on us now. The walls of this room are pierced with
secret eye-places."

Jack recognised the wisdom of this reasoning, and sank back on his
couch. It was just as well he did so, for at that very moment the
drapery of the door was swept aside, and a man entered the room.

He was a majestic-looking personage, much taller than the average
Indian. Indeed, he was as huge as Tim himself, but not so bulky. He
wore a long white robe, falling to his feet, over this a mantle of
gaudy leather-work. On his head was set a fresh chaplet of flowers, on
his breast burned the red glimmer of a small opal. Advancing into the
middle of the room, he swung a small incense-burner before Jack,
throwing therein some odoriferous gum, which made a thick, perfumed
smoke. After this, he cast some flowers on the couch, and muttered a
few words with uplifted hands, finally ending the ceremony by falling
on his knees.

"What does this mean?" asked Jack of Cocom, who stood reverently on one
side, observing all this mummery.

"Hush, Señor! He adores you as a god."

"Devil take him and his worship," muttered Jack, crossly, in English.
Then the priest spoke in the Indian tongue, and Cocom translated his
speech to Jack.

"Is my lord better in health?" asked the priest.

"Tell him I am; but I don't care about being preserved for sacrifice."

"Speak not so, Don Juan," said Cocom, in Spanish, with a look of alarm;
"you are not supposed to know anything of that. I told you on the peril
of my life."

"Then tell him whatever lies you please!" said Duval, viciously, and,
rolling over, turned his back on the priest.

"A bad sign!" murmured the priest, looking anxiously at Cocom. "Is my
lord angered?"

"Nay," replied Cocom, in the Indian tongue; "my lord is much improved
in health, oh, Ixtlilxochitl; but as with all who are ill at ease, he
is fretful and wanting in courtesy."

"It is true," replied Ixtlilxochitl, reverently. "The sick are ever
foolish. See that thou make him strong, Cocom, for the gods accept
naught but blooming health."

"Oh, my sacred lord; he will be cured in two days from now. Cocom knows
of magic herbs whereby the favourite of Huitzilopochtli can be made
whole. Let Ixtlilxochitl be content, my lord will be pure and strong
for the sacrifice."

"It is well," said the priest, rising from his knees. "I will leave my
lord to his sleep; but will he not vouchsafe one glance at his
servant?"

Instructed by Cocom, Jack was forced to turn round and smile at the
priest, who knelt down to receive this mark of favour. Then he adored
Jack with more incense and flowers, after which he withdrew with
reverent genuflections.

"The old fiend!" muttered Jack, when the drapery had again veiled the
door. "I should like to have sent a boot at his head."

"Hush, my lord Juan."

"Carrai! why should I? That devil-monkey does not understand Spanish."

"No, Señor. Still, it is wiser to risk nothing."

"You are quite right, Cocom. I place myself entirely in your hands.
Save me, and I promise you I shall not forget you."

"Cocom will save you, for the sake of Don Miguel," said the old man,
proudly; "and for the sake of the lady Dolores."

"Dolores!" repeated Jack, eagerly. "Do you know where she is?"

"I know nothing at present," replied Cocom, with a meaning glance.
"Possess your soul in patience, Don Juan; all will yet be well. Don
Hypolito desires to kill you, and wed Doña Dolores. He shall do
neither. Santissima Virgen, I swear it. Be silent! No words, my lord.
Rest now, and sleep. You will need all your strength."

"For the sacrifice?"

"Nay, Señor, for escape!"




CHAPTER VI.

THE SHRINE OF THE OPAL.

    Lord of the humming-bird's foot!
    Behold thy worshippers rising and falling in adoration
        before thee, as rise and fall the restless waves of
        the far-reaching ocean.
    These thousands gathered from the ends of the earth, are
        thine, and thine only.
    We see thine image bedecked with jewels, shine like the sun
        at his rising
    Before thee, the stone, whereon the favoured one yields up
        his life for thy glory.
    Smoking hearts dost thou love, the savour of blood, the carnage
        of battle.
    For thou art god of war, death alone is the way to thy favour.
    Spins before thee that precious stone by which thou tellest thy
        wishes,
    That shining, precious stone, which now burns red as the blood
        of thine altars,
    Crimson it gleams, hinting war! War is the fate of the future!
    Oh, mighty one! Lord of the humming-bird's foot! We pray thee
        give order,
    That the red war light melt soon to the azure of peace,
    Then will fresh victims be thine, and happiness ours,
    Shout, ye people! ask peace from the lord of the humming-bird's
        foot.


In two days, Jack was comparatively well, and able to move about
without much trouble. This almost miraculous cure was effected by Cocom
through the medium of some medicinal herbs, the curative powers of
which were known to him alone. Out of these he made two decoctions, one
for internal, the other for external application. With the latter he
bathed the wound on Jack's head, and made him drink quantities of the
former every two hours. The effect was wonderfully rapid, and Jack soon
found himself gaining strength. In the hands of a European doctor, he
would probably have been laid up for weeks; but the rude medicine of
the Indian set him on his legs in no time. The wound on his head gave
him no trouble, and healed with great quickness; a fact which Jack put
down as much to his healthy blood, and simple living, as to Cocom's
physicing.

With renewed health and strength came a stronger desire to escape from
the horrible fate which waited him in a few weeks. When he went out,
however, and explored the strange city, in the centre of which stood
the shrine of the opal, Jack saw plainly that it would be madness to
attempt flight without the assistance of Cocom. The Indians apparently
knew this, for, treated by them more as a guest than a prisoner, he was
permitted to wander freely round the neighbourhood. Still, did he
venture too far in the direction of the belt of timber surrounding the
city, he was always followed by two or more native guards; these, when
he once more returned to the city, quietly left him. From this
espionage he plainly saw that his roaming was restricted, but not in
such a measure as to cause him any unpleasant feeling.

As regards the behaviour of the Indians, Jack had nothing to complain
of. Indeed, they could scarcely have been more deferential. Regarded as
a kind of deity, his appearance was the signal for the most slavish
adulation. The Indians, of whom there were a goodly number in the
vicinity, threw themselves on their faces before him, as he walked
abroad, attended by Cocom. If he seated himself, they strewed flowers
at his feet, and swung censers, fragrant with copal, until he was
almost hidden by white wreaths of perfumed smoke. This popularity was
not unpleasant; but, as Jack knew it was but a prelude to the
sacrificial stone, he was anything but gratified at thus being
continually reminded of the dangerous position in which he stood.

On recovering his health, Jack found Cocom much more reticent than when
he was acting as doctor. Several times had he been on the point of
making some important communication, but always stopped short and
refused to speak further. Jack supposed this caution was on account of
the priests, who, despite the deference of their demeanour, kept a
close watch on his actions, and on those of Cocom. The high priest,
Ixtlilxochitl, was a mild-looking old man, who treated Jack in a most
courteous manner, and frequently expressed his pleasure that the white
lord had so soon recovered his health. Such inquiries would have been
much more acceptable had not the recipient known that they were but the
outcome of Ixtlilxochitl's desire that he should be in good condition
for the sacrifice. It was no pleasant thing for Duval to know that
these courtesies came from an old gentleman who was anxiously looking
forward to taking his life.

Under these circumstances, Jack did not wonder that Cocom was cautious,
and though for the moment the attitude of the old Indian appeared
anything but friendly, Jack quite relied on him to aid his escape. He
was anxious to escape from this buried city, where he was threatened
with so terrible a fate; he was longing to return to Tlatonac for the
purpose of reassuring his friends, who he knew would be terribly put
out by his disappearance at Acauhtzin; and, above all, he was anxious
to be free so as to search for Dolores.

In Jack's opinion she was at Acauhtzin, as a man so vile as Don
Hypolito could no longer be believed. If she was not in the power of
the rebel leader, she would have been with the Indians. Yet here was
Jack in the very heart of this aboriginal civilisation, in the
stronghold of the opal, yet he neither saw her nor heard anything of
her. He questioned Cocom, but that wily old man replied that he knew
nothing, and as Don Hypolito had admitted that he knew where she was,
Jack felt sure that the poor girl was held a prisoner by the Mestizo at
Acauhtzin. He was therefore anxious to escape, and get back to
Tlatonac, for the purpose of urging on the war with all possible speed,
so that the northern capital should be invested within a reasonable
time, and Dolores rescued from her terrible position. Consequently,
escape was his one aim; but he saw plainly that without assistance it
would be impossible to leave this city of the opal, buried as it was in
the savage solitudes of primeval forests.

That this famous opal shrine was in Cholacaca he knew perfectly well,
but as he had been brought hither in an unconscious state, he was quite
at a loss to lay his finger on the precise locality. Cholacaca, east to
west, was two hundred miles from mountains to sea, so the city of the
opal could not be situated out of this radius. It might be fifty, a
hundred, a hundred and fifty miles from the sea, and Jack, knowing by
his pocket-compass in which direction to go, calculated that if he
marched due east he could not fail to reach the coast. Once there, and
he could soon pick up a canoe or some light boat, in which he could get
in due time to Tlatonac.

But to start for the coast without knowing the geography of the country
was sheer madness, and Jack stamped his foot with rage as he thought of
the miles of trackless forest which lay between him and freedom. To
push one's way through a virgin forest is difficult in any case, but to
make the attempt without arms, companions, food, and guides was quite
an impossibility. That there was some secret way to the coast was
plain, as the Indians came hither to this shrine from Tlatonac; but
that way was known only to the priests. Within a certain distance,
every new-comer was blinded with a bandage, and this was taken off in
the square, before the principal teocalli. The worshippers were
conducted into the forests with the same precautions; so, unless he
could bribe a priest to show him the secret way, Jack foresaw
absolutely no chance of gaining his freedom.

It was a buried city, but not a ruined city, for here the aboriginal
civilisation flourished greatly, as it had done before the coming of
the Spaniards, to Anahuac. Situated in a hollow cup, on all sides arose
verdant forests of bright green, clothing the base of great mountains,
which showed their serrated peaks above the vegetation. On three sides
the city was shut in by these giant barriers, but towards the west
opened a rugged cañon, through which flowed a noisy stream. A road ran
along the west side of this freak of nature, cut out of the solid rock,
so narrow as to allow only three men to walk abreast. Above and below
were the cliffs, thousands of feet in height and depth. No foe could
enter the city by that pass, which led into the great mountains of the
interior continent; but no foe would wish to enter, for this city was
holy ground, the Mecca of the aborigines, and had preserved its
inviolability from an invasion for centuries.

"It was built by the Toltecs, Señor," said Cocom, who acted as Jack's
cicerone. "Ages ago, you must know, this race came hither from the
North. It was they who built the great cities of Yucatan in the dark
past. Uxmal, Aké, Chichen-Itza. They reared them all. A glorious race
were my ancestors, Señor."

"But you are not a descendant of the Toltecs, Cocom?"

"No, Señor, I am a Maya. My ancestors ruled at Mayapan. See," added the
Indian, plucking a yellow flower sprouting out from a crevice close at
hand, "this is the plant Cocom--my name, Señor, and that of the great
kings who ruled Yucatan. The Mayas also built great cities, but Toltecs
or Mayas, Don Juan, what does it matter? I am a poor Indian crushed
under the heel of the white man."

"You say the Toltecs built this city also?"

"Surely, Don Juan. They came and they went; no one knows whither they
went. We are born, Señor, but we know not from whence we come. We die,
but we know not whither we go. So with the Toltecs. They came, they
went, and we know nothing more. But they left their cities behind them,
Señor, to show how great they were. In their wanderings--I speak from
the traditions of the priests--in their wanderings, Señor, they came to
this place, through yonder cañon--up the gorge, I think, for then there
was no river, no road. Here they lost their leader, and built this city
to commemorate his greatness. It is so called after him--Totatzine."

"Oh, that was his name, no doubt."

"Quien sabe! No; I do not know what his name was. Totatzine is a Nahua
word, meaning 'Our Great Father.' He was their father and leader, so
they called this place Totatzine. It is a monument to his memory."

"It is a holy city!"

"For ages, Señor, it has been sacred," replied Cocom, seriously. "Here
it was that the god Tezcatlipoca had his shrine, but when the guardians
of the opal stone fled hither, the worship of the Chalchuih Tlatonac
became the great religion here. Now the soul of the universe is
forgotten, and Huitzilopochtli alone is adored with his devil-stone."

"Who is the soul of the universe?"

"Tezcatlipoca! It is strange, Señor, that the name of this god means
'the shining mirror,' while the Chalchuih Tlatonac means 'the shining
precious stone,' so you see the religion has changed but little."

"Do you not adore the old gods, Cocom?"

The Indian looked fearfully around, as though he deemed his answer,
though delivered in Spanish, would be overheard and understood by some
lurking priest.

"No, Señor Juan," he whispered at length. "I believe the opal can
prophesy because it is inhabited by devils, as we are told by the good
Padre, but I worship the Holy One and His virgin mother. I am a
Catholic, Señor, but once I was an adorer of Huitzilopochtli, and it is
hard to break away, Señor, from the habits of youth. I came then--I
come now, and though I am looked upon as one devoted to the old gods,
yet do I follow the faith of the good Padre!"

"I am glad of that, Cocom. Otherwise you would not help me to escape."

"True. The Holy Virgin has you in her care, Don Juan. I am, assuredly,
the only Catholic here in this city of the devil-stone, and I am your
friend. You will I aid to escape."

"When?"

"Hush! my lord. Behold, Ixtlilxochitli is at hand."

The suave priest passed them slowly, and bent his head with abject
deference as Jack looked at him. He made as though he would have
stopped, but Duval waved his hand to intimate that he did not wish to
be disturbed. Ixtlilxochitli made a second genuflection, and resumed
his way. It was wonderful to see how these bloodthirsty idolators
obeyed the slightest wish of their proposed victim.

"He thinks we are plotting," hinted Jack, looking after the old man
with anything but an amiable expression.

"No. He trusts me too much. Besides, he would not care if he did guess
we were plotting, Señor, thinking, as he does, that I know not the
secret way."

"And you do know it?"

Cocom looked around and saw nobody. Then he turned towards Jack, and
nodded significantly.

"Yes, Señor, I do know it."

"Bueno! And when----?"

"Another time, Don Juan. We have already spoken too long. Let us resume
our examination of the sacred city. It is not wise to be incautious.
Folly is loud of speech, but Wisdom is silent."

Jack acquiesced in this view of the matter, and they walked on. He was
greatly interested in all he saw around him, as it is not given to
everyone to view a great aboriginal civilisation in its full glory. But
for the horrible fear he had of failing to escape, and thus run the
risk of being sacrificed to the war-god, he would have been quite
fascinated by this extraordinary place. Always a bit of an
archæologist, he viewed with enthusiasm these giant palaces, these
massive temples--works of a great race, still as fresh under the blue
tropic sky of to-day as when they were first reared in the dim past.
When Europe was a land of savages, this city was built; it rose in its
splendour while Greece was in her glory and Rome was not. Back, many
ages back before Christ; before David, perchance before Abraham, these
superb edifices rested majestically in this smiling valley. Still were
they inhabited, still were they the home of a race, of a religion--the
seat of a barbaric civilisation, the oracle of a faith, as they had
been in their pristine glory. The empire of Montezuma had fallen in
Mexico, the Incas were now but a name in Peru, gone were the Toltecs,
scattered the Mayas, yet the buried city of Totatzine, safe in the
midst of primeval forests, endured still, and would endure until that
fatal day, which would surely come, when the aboriginal race would
silently retreat before the conquering forces of civilisation. Here was
the last stronghold of the old gods, driven from the table-lands of
Anahuac; here smoked anew those altars overturned by the
Conquistadores; here shrieked the victim on the terrible stone of
sacrifice; and here was the shrine of the famous Opal, the Chalchuih
Tlatonac, the very mention of which thrilled the hearts of all far and
wide with superstitious dread.

The sacred city was admirably situated for all purposes. Nothing could
be more beautiful than this majestic work of man, set like a jewel
within the green circle of the forest-clad mountains. Its health was
assured by its being fortunately placed in the genial climate of the
Tierra Templada. A vast wall built across the huge rift of the cañon
protected it from foes in the west, and the peaks, the impenetrable
forests, formed a barrier against the outside world on all other sides.
Its inviolability depended upon its remaining hidden in the shadow of
the forests; and in this isolated valley none would guess the secret of
its existence. It was veritably a buried city, secluded from the prying
gaze of mankind, and was probably the only one of its kind in the
world. Beautiful, healthy, well defended, closely hidden, this strange
town was the pride of the barbaric tribes of Central America--their
Mecca, their Jerusalem; the altar of their ancient faith, the city of
the shining precious stone. This was the true city of the opal, and not
Tlatonac, for here in the central shrine flashed the great gem on the
altar of the war-god. The paths of all savage men converged to this
place, and from here welled forth the influence of the old gods which
frustrated the efforts of the Padres to Christianise the tribes of
Central America.

Down the eastern peaks fell a mighty torrent, which swept irresistibly
across the flat plain, and emerged from the valley through the cañon on
the west. On either side of this stream was the city built, and three
bridges of massive stone connected the one town with the other. That on
the right bank of the stream was the city of the priests, while to the
left lay the city of commerce, of dwellings, of daily life. In the
sacerdotal town a large square surrounded the vast mound whereon was
built the teocalli of the Chalchuih Tlatonac, and from this square
streets radiated--to the stream, to the mountains, to the wall, like
the spokes of a vast wheel. A similar square, with radiating streets,
formed the plan of the other town, save that the palace of the Cacique
occupied the place of the teocalli. Both towns were crowded with
Indians, but the sacerdotal portion was principally filled with
pilgrims, come to worship at the shrine of the opal, while the settled
population lived on the other side of the stream. There were large
caravansaries round the teocalli, for the accommodation of the visitors
who came from all parts of Central America; and Totatzine derived its
wealth, its splendour, its very existence, from the constant crowds
pouring in through the secret way to worship the old gods. The entrance
to that way was supposed to be in the shrine itself, but none knew the
exact place save the priests of Huitzilopochtli, and these jealously
preserved the secret on which depended their power.

Accompanied by the faithful Cocom, who, notwithstanding his advanced
age, could bear a great deal of fatigue, Jack explored the two cities,
meeting everywhere with the greatest deference from the populace.
Unpleasant as was his position, he almost forgot his peril, in
contemplating the wonderful buildings around him. The architecture of
the houses was similar to that of ancient Egypt. Long ranges of squat
pillars, decorated with vivid hues, mural paintings, religious and
warlike in character, massive walls of reddish stone, sloping inward as
they gained height, colossal flights of steps leading up to cyclopean
door-ways, and everywhere the grotesque images of the Aztec gods.

From the flat roofs of the houses arose truncated towers, carved rudely
with all the hideous forms of an obscure mythology. From these one
could see the vast expanse of the city, the interminable lines of the
terraces falling one below the other to the narrow streets, the great
squares crowded with people, dominated by teocalli, by palace, and far
off the sombre length of the wall stretching across the cañon, while
beyond this barrier the winding cliffs of the gulch shut out all view
of the world beyond. All was vague, awesome, terrible; the city wore a
menacing aspect, even in the cheerful sunlight, and the confused murmur
rising upward from the streets, seemed like the lamentations of
countless victims, the moaning of countless generations, tortured,
terrified, blinded by the blood-stained deities of Anahuac.

"If the Señor so pleases, we will go to the teocalli," said Cocom,
after they had quite exhausted the commercial portion of the city, "and
there behold the opal."

"I should like to see it, above all things," replied Jack, remembering
his first glimpse of the gem; "but I thought the priests would not let
me enter the temple."

"You can go anywhere, Don Juan. Remember, in the eyes of the priests,
of the people, you are a deity."

"A poor deity, seeing I am but preserved for that cursed altar. Where
will they kill me, Cocom--that is, if they get the chance?"

"On the sacrificial stone in front of the teocalli. Your heart will be
taken out, and then, when the sacred fire is kindled, your body will be
hurled down the steps of the pyramid."

"A very pleasant little programme," said Duval, grimly; "it is a pity
it should not be carried out; but as I propose to run away I guess it
will be Hamlet with the Dane left out. Bueno, Cocom! let us view the
shambles."

The Indian assented, and, having crossed over the bridge, they walked
up the straight, narrow street which led to the central square. Such
people as they passed immediately prostrated themselves on the ground,
and in some cases suffered Jack to walk over them. The young engineer
felt inclined to kick them so enraged did he feel at being thus
perpetually reminded of his probable fate; but as such conduct would
scarcely be politic, he managed, though with difficulty, to restrain
himself.

Soon they emerged from the street between two colossal carved idols of
appalling ugliness, and the square lay open before them. Like a vast
mountain arose the huge mound with five successive stages, and up to
the truncated summit, from the base, stretched a broad flight of sixty
steps. Wide and shallow was this staircase, with huge stone masks
scowling on each step. These dæmonic countenances were crowned with
twisted serpents, and had protruding tongues symbolical of life and
light.

"Look like pantomime ogres," thought the irreverent Jack, contemplating
these horrors. "I say, Cocom," he said in Spanish, "what are these
heads meant to represent?"

"They are god stars throwing their light over the earth, Señor. The
projecting tongues represent them doing so."

"Bueno! I never should have thought putting out one's tongue meant such
a lot. Come, Cocom, let us ascend the steps."

"One moment, Don Juan!" said Cocom, in a low voice, as Jack put his
foot on the lower step, "I have a reason for taking you up here."

"To see the opal?"

"Yes; and to see something else. Connected with your escape, Señor. We
can talk freely in the teocalli; for now it is noon, and no priest is
in the temple."

"Good! We will have it all to ourselves. But I wonder at them leaving
the opal unguarded."

"Santissima! It is quite safe, Don Juan! No one would steal the opal.
Even if anyone did he could not get out of the town, and if he did get
out of the town he would be killed before he reached the coast."

"I see! Superstition is a greater safeguard than bolts or bars."

"Promise me, Señor, you will not cry out at that which I am going to
show you," said the Indian, disregarding Jack's remark.

"I don't know what you are going to show me, but I promise you I'll
keep silent."

"Bueno, Señor Juan! Let us go!"

He ascended the steps slowly, followed by Jack, who was much puzzled to
know the reason of this warning. Cocom, however, had proved himself to
be a true friend, so Duval trusted him implicitly, and was quite
satisfied that the Indian did not speak without cause. Up those
interminable steps they went, till Jack thought they would never reach
the summit, and, being still weak from illness, had to pause three or
four times during the ascent. At last they arrived at the top, and
Cocom, making Jack sit down to rest himself, went into the temple.
During the absence of the old man, his patient amused himself in
examining the teocalli, and admiring the splendid view outspread before
him.

Far below he could see the dual city like a map, intersected by the
stream which cut it clean in two. The streets, running at right angles,
made it look like a chess-board, and on both sides of the river were
the great gaps of the squares. The surrounding green of the forests,
the grey worn peaks sharply defined against the blue sky, the
reddish-coloured city in the hollow, all made up an inexpressibly
beautiful picture. He could see the figures of men, women, and animals
moving like ants through the squares, bright-coloured dots of crawling
life. To his ear came the hoarse roar of the river dashing on its rocky
bed, the confused hum of voices, the faint cries of merchants, the thin
songs of women seated on the distant flat roofs. Hither ascended the
mingled murmur, as though the busy city exhaled a huge sigh of sorrow
and fear in the ear of their god, whose burdens were so heavy upon
them.

Then he turned to view the teocalli, which he found not unworthy of his
regard. Indeed, the whole pyramid aroused his admiration. This vast
mound of earth, faced with a coating of adobe and covered with silvery
cement, was a feat of engineering which at the first sight appeared
somewhat startling, seeing it was the work of a barbaric race. Jack was
a civil engineer, and learned in mechanics; but it puzzled him to think
how this great mass had been built up. What armies of men must have
been employed in its construction! What architectural skill was needed!
How completely were the four sides covered with the smooth cement! This
mound, a mere mole-hill compared with the great artificial hills of
Quemada, Cholula, or Palanque, was as marvellous a work of man as the
pyramids of Egypt, and as mysterious.

The teocalli itself was a structure of red stone, consisting of two
truncated towers, joined together by a flat-roofed building, in the
centre of which was a wide low doorway, the sides of which inclined
inward till they nearly touched at the lintel. The whole of this façade
was elaborately carved with convoluted serpents, mastodon heads, and
frequently bizarre emblems intermingled with representations of the
moon and stars. Birds, fishes, bows, arrows, and blazing suns were also
carved with wonderful skill out of this dull-hued stone, and directly
over the door itself flamed a painted opal, darting rays of divers
hues. As all these arabesques were gaudily coloured, the effect may be
imagined, and Jack's eyes ached as this grotesque confusion of crude
tints blazed in the strong sunlight. In front of the teocalli, to the
left, was a large serpent-skin drum, used for summoning the devotees of
the god; but Jack did not look so much at this as at an object which he
viewed with horrified repugnance. This was a huge block of jasper,
slanting and polished, on which many unhappy beings had been slain, on
which he himself was destined to suffer. Only by a strong effort did he
keep his eyes for a moment on this couch of death, and then averted
them with a shudder.

Rising from his seat, he walked towards the door of the temple, and was
met at the entrance by Cocom. The Indian threw a glance down the
staircase, to see that no one was ascending, and then stood on one side
to let Jack pass into the shrine.

"You can enter now, Señor, and speak with safety."

It was some time before Jack's eyes became accustomed to the gloom, for
the shrine was only lighted from the door. In this vast apartment
twilight prevailed, and showed but dimly the flash of jewels, the
glitter of gold and silver. The sides were encrusted with stucco,
carved with figures of Aztec deities, which formed the court to the
terrible war-god. Teoyamiqui, the goddess of death, was there, with her
skirt of platted snakes; Teotl, the supreme deity of Anahuac;
Tlacatecolotl, his enemy, the spirit of evil; Quetzalcoatl, Tlaloc,
Centeotl, and many other gods of that terrible hierarchy. Masks formed
of turquoise stones hung on the walls, here and there were small
altars, on which burned scented gums, and, at the end of the hall,
under a canopy of richly carved and gilded wood, sat the terrible one,
the war-god Huitzilopochtli.

His image was scarcely human, but seemed to be simply a block of wood
distorted into hideous shapes. In one hand he grasped a bow, in the
other a sheaf of arrows, delicate humming-bird feathers adorned his
left foot, and his waist was encircled by a serpent formed of precious
stones, emeralds, turquoises, pearls, all glittering dimly in the pale
twilight. Behind the god spread a sheet of solid gold, carved with the
attributes of his deity, and in front of him appeared a grotesquely
carved altar, on which rested a red object. Jack, holding his nose, for
the stench of the slaughterhouse was terrible, advanced to see what it
was. He started back, with an exclamation of horror. It was a bleeding
human heart!

As he started back, a blue flare seemed to strike across his eyes. He
looked up, and, lo! The Harlequin Opal. Depending from the roof by a
gold thread, the great jewel twisted slowly round in front of the
altar, the height of a man from the ground. With every revolution the
colours changed, like those of a chameleon. Now would radiate a bright
green flame, then a blue ray would flash like a streak of lightning
through the gloom; at times the whole stone shone yellow as the sun,
and oftentimes a fierce tongue of red would dart from its breast. All
these changes were caused by the constant twirling of the cord by which
it was suspended, and even in the half light the splendid gem scattered
its tints on all sides with the utmost brilliance.

Fascinated by the magnificent jewel, Jack stepped forward to examine it
closely; but, just as he laid his finger on it, he heard a voice--

"Beware!"

It was a woman's voice. He turned in alarm, and saw a woman standing
near the doorway. The light fell full on her face, and Jack rushed
forward, with a loud cry of joy, to clasp her in his arms.

It was Doña Dolores!




CHAPTER VII.

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.

    Time is fond of strange surprises,
    Ne'er we know what is before us;
    Acting as stern Fate advises,
    Time is fond of strange surprises.
    Empires fall, a nation rises,
    Those who hated, now adore us.
    Time is fond of strange surprises,
    Ne'er we know what is before us.


It was Dolores! The lost Dolores, for whom he had sought so long, so
vainly. She lay on his breast, sobbing as though her heart would break,
and Jack was so overcome with emotion that he could not speak. Cocom,
with true delicacy, had withdrawn, and they were alone in the temple.
For some moments they could neither speak nor move, but remained locked
in one another's arms, silently, passionately, grateful for the
meeting. Behind them, the slowly revolving opal flashed out a thin
streak of blue. It was an omen of peace, of love.

Jack, as was natural, first recovered himself, and did all in his power
to quieten the hysterical emotion of Dolores. The poor girl looked ill
and haggard, as well she might, seeing how much she had suffered during
the last fortnight. Torn from her home, from her friends, her kindred,
her lover, entombed in the sepulchre of a vast forest, with no hope of
ever being released, she had abandoned herself to despair. The
unexpected appearance of Jack was too much for her overstrained nerves,
and she utterly broke down. Duval placed her on a stone near the
doorway of the shrine, and, kneeling at her feet, strove to calm her
agitation. He was having but ill success, when Cocom appeared in the
doorway, and seeing at a glance what was the matter with the girl, at
once produced one of those mysterious medicines he constantly carried
about with him.

"Let the Señorita drink of this," he said, thrusting a small bottle
into Jack's hand. "Cocom will watch at the staircase that none ascend.
But be speedy, Señor. Ixtlilxochitli remains not long away from the
opal."

When the Indian withdrew, Jack forced Dolores to take some of the drink
prescribed. The effect was magical, for in a few minutes her sobs
ceased, she became composed, and her eyes brightened with joy as she
looked at her lover. Jack was still in his serge shooting-suit, high
boots and all; while Dolores, in amber skirt, lace mantilla, and dainty
shoes, looked as though she were arrayed for a ball. The Indians had
evidently treated her with great tenderness, and save for her haggard
looks, she looked little different from what she did at Tlatonac. In
their European dresses, they were out of keeping in that savage house
of worship. A strange scene, truly. The blood-stained deity, the
fantastic figures of the gods, the twirling opal, flashing sparks of
light, and at the door these most unhappy lovers, oblivious to all save
themselves.

"Querido!" sighed Dolores, looking fondly in Jack's face; "how like an
angel do you appear to me. I thought never to see you again; but now
you are here, and I am happy. Tell of the dear ones, Juanito, of
Eulalia and Rafael. How does my dear uncle, my aunt?"

"I have not seen them for over a week, cara," replied Jack, kissing
her; "they were much disturbed at your disappearance. We all thought
that you had been carried off to Acauhtzin, and with Don Felipe and
your brother I went up there to demand you from the base one."

"I know all of this, mi amigo," said Dolores, quickly. "Ah! do not look
so astonished. Cocom is our friend; Cocom told me all. Of Marina
departing with Pepe in _The Pizarro_, of your journey to Acauhtzin,
and how you were betrayed to the priests by Don Hypolito."

"You know my story, Dolores, but I do not know yours. Tell me how it
was that you were carried off. I at first suspected the Indians, but
afterwards deemed Pepe had taken you to Xuarez. I suspected him
wrongly, it seems."

"No, Juan!" cried the girl, her eyes flashing with anger; "all this
misery was contrived by Don Hypolito. He told Ixtlilxochitli that----"

"What!" interrupted Jack, in astonishment; "does Xuarez know the
priest? Has he been here? Is he a worshipper of that devil stone?"

"As to that I am not certain, but he has been here frequently, and held
long conversations with Ixtlilxochitli. Don Hypolito, you know, says he
is a Mestizo. It is false; he is a pure Indian. His parents dwelt here
as worshippers of the old gods, and it was in Totatzine that he was
born. Afterwards, when he became a man, he grew weary of this buried
city, and went forth to seek his fortune. He prospered, as you know,
and now says he has Spanish blood in his veins, to gain favour with my
own people. But his heart is Indian; he is a friend of Ixtlilxochitli;
he comes here frequently. I said, querido, that I was not certain that
he worshipped the devil stone. I am wrong; I think he does. Through him
does that opal counsel war; and you were delivered to the priests to be
the victim of the cycle."

"And in return for this handsome gift of my life, what does Don
Hypolito get?"

"Can you not guess? Ixtlilxochitli, anxious to see the Ruler of
Cholacaca one who is a believer in the old gods, has promised to make
the Indians fight for him. He can do this by means of the opal's
prophecies. The priest thinks that if Don Hypolito becomes President,
he will restore the worship of Huitzilopochtli."

"Ridiculous!"

"It is not. Yet Ixtlilxochitli, who is a clever man, is completely
deceived by Don Hypolito, and believes that this will be so."

"Now I see how Xuarez came to the sacred city," said Jack,
reflectively; "but you say it was he who carried you off?"

"By means of the Indians, yes. Listen, Juanito. The last time Don
Hypolito was here, he told Ixtlilxochitli that he desired to marry me;
also, that if I were not carried off from Tlatonac, and placed for
safety in the opal shrine, that I would probably marry you. As you can
guess, it would never do to let the guardian of the opal marry a white
man, so, as desired by Don Hypolito, I was decoyed from Tlatonac, and
carried to this frightful place."

"How were you decoyed?"

"By means of your friend, Don Pedro."

"By Pedro!" cried Jack, in surprise. "Why, what had he to do with your
kidnapping?"

"He had nothing actually to do with it. But his name was used in this
way. Listen, mi cara; it is the strangest of tales."

Jack nodded and settled himself to listen, whereon Doña Dolores began
her story at once, as every moment was precious.

"When you left me on that day, Juanito, I went to the cathedral, in
order to pray for you, and to obtain from Padre Ignatius the holy relic
for your protection. With Marina did I kneel before the shrine of the
Virgin, and waited for the Padre, but he did not appear."

"Nevertheless, he was in the cathedral all the time waiting for you in
the sacristy."

"That is strange," observed Dolores, in some perplexity, "for I grew
weary of waiting, and sent Marina to seek Padre Ignatius in the
sacristy. As she did not return, I presumed that she could not find
him, and had perhaps gone to look for him in his own church."

"She went neither to sacristy nor to church," explained Jack, hastily;
"she saw Pepe at the door of the cathedral, as she went to seek the
good Father, and departed with the zambo. Then she was afraid of being
punished by you, and did not return to the Casa Maraquando until late,
when we found you were missing. I expect it was fear that made her run
off to Acauhtzin with Pepe."

"Very probably; yes, Juan, it was as you say. She did not go for the
Padre, and he, waiting in the sacristy, expected me to meet him there.
I, on my part, thinking Marina would return every moment, remained
before the shrine. Then I felt a hand touch my shoulder, and turned
round expecting to see Marina. It was a dwarf Indian, called T'ho, who
gave me a message from--as I thought--Cocom and Don Pedro."

"But it was not Cocom who betrayed you, Dolores?"

"No, indeed. But through the craft of Ixtlilxochitli, his name was made
use of as a decoy. This Indian, T'ho, did not speak, but gave me an
object message."

"Dios! What is that?"

"Do you not know, Juanito? and yet you have dwelt so long in Cholacaca.
An object message is one the meaning of which is read by certain things
delivered. For instance, querido, in this case, T'ho gave me a yellow
flower and several objects cut in bark, including an arrow, a pair of
spectacles, and a round coloured red. Now can you understand?"

"The yellow flower meant Cocom! Is that not so? He told me to-day his
name was from such a flower."

"Yes, that is right--the spectacles?"

"Eh, Dolores! The spectacles! Oh, I know; Peter wears spectacles."

"You're right, mi amigo," replied Dolores, smiling at his discovery,
"and the arrow was a hint to be swift--the rough piece of bark,
coloured scarlet, showed that some one was wounded."

"Wait a moment, Dolores," interposed Duval, hastily; "I can read the
message now. It came presumably from Cocom, and read, 'Come quickly,
Don Pedro is wounded.'"

Dolores clapped her hands.

"Santissima Madre! You have guessed rightly. That was the message. At
once I obeyed it, for I thought poor Don Pedro might be dying."

"It was kind of you, Dolores, but terribly rash."

"I did not think it would be far away from the gates, and suspected no
evil. Besides, I had been kind to T'ho, and did not dream he would
betray me."

"Which he did?"

"Yes, base criminal, he did. I followed him from the church just as the
sun was setting. He led me through the streets out of the town by the
Puerta de la Culebra. No one recognised me, as I veiled my face in my
mantilla. T'ho guided me past the chapel of Padre Ignatius to the open
country----"

"How rash of you!" ejaculated Jack, reproachfully, "how terribly rash!"

"Yes, it was rash, Juanito! But do not be angry, querido. I did it for
the sake of Don Pedro, whom I thought was wounded."

"Well! and what happened after that?" said Duval, kissing her, to show
he was not cross.

"Dios!" replied Dolores, tapping her mouth with her closed fan; "I
hardly remember! I was asking T'ho where lay the poor Señor Americano,
when a cloth was flung over my head, and I was borne swiftly away. With
the shock, I suppose I must have fainted, for on recovering my senses I
found myself in an open boat going up the coast. I tried to cry out,
but was so weak that I could make no sound. Only Indians were in the
boat, and one of them held a cup of wine to my lips. It was, I think,
drugged, as I then lost all consciousness, and awoke to find myself in
Totatzine!"

"And all this was planned by Don Hypolito?"

"Yes, and executed by Ixtlilxochitli. I have been kindly treated since
I have been here, and have a house yonder, across the square, all to
myself, with attendants. The high priest told me I had been carried off
so that no harm might happen to me, as guardian of the opal, during the
war. He also informed me that it was the desire of the god that I
should wed with Don Hypolito."

"Confound his impudence," muttered Jack, in his native tongue. "And
what did you reply, Dolores?"

"I said I would never wed with the traitor Xuarez; that my heart was
given to another, to Don Juan, the Americano. Ixtlilxochitli was
terribly angry when he heard this, and swore that never would the
guardian of the opal be permitted to wed a white man. 'But I have no
fear,' said this base one, 'for Don Hypolito, the true worshipper of
the sacred opal, will aid us to secure this evil Americano, and
sacrifice him to the gods.'"

"And Don Hypolito succeeded," said Jack, with a shudder. "The wretch!
he had made up his mind to seize me from the moment I set foot in
Acauhtzin. Oh, if I can only escape, how dearly will I make him pay for
all this treachery."

At this moment Cocom darted in at the door.

"Señor, the priest, Ixtlilxochitli, is climbing the steps. Hide
yourself, lady. You must not be seen with my lord."

"Why not?" asked Jack, as they arose to their feet.

"Can you ask, after what I have told you?" whispered Dolores,
hurriedly. "The priest knows I love you, and if we were seen together
you would be detained in prison until the day of the sacrifice. Not
even your character of a god could save you from that. Cocom contrived
our meeting here, and the priests suspect nothing. Trust to Cocom! He
will tell you our plans of escape. Adios! I must hide!"

"When will I see you again, angelito?" said Jack, kissing her
hurriedly.

"To-morrow night, in the secret way. Adios!"

She ran rapidly towards the shrine, and vanished behind the image of
the war-god, while Jack followed Cocom out on to the vast platform of
the pyramid. Midway on the steps they saw the old high priest,
painfully climbing upward.

"Will he not find Doña Dolores in there, Cocom, and thus guess we have
met?"

"No, Señor. He but comes to see that the sacred fire burns. That the
opal yet spins before the god. If the fire should go out, or the opal
stand still, great calamities would befall the city. Only does the opal
pause when it prophesies."

"How is it managed?"

"Santissima! Señor, I know not. But come, let us go down.
Ixtlilxochitli will just look at the fire, and then descend, after
which the Doña Dolores can come down and regain her palace without
being seen."

"Is the shrine thus frequently left alone?"

"Yes, Señor. Save at festivals, it is deserted. But a priest climbs to
the temple every five hours, to see that the sacred fire burns. But
see, Ixtlilxochitli is near us. Be cautious, my lord."

When Jack paused on his downward way, the priest coming up at once
knelt on the steps to show his reverence.

"Tell the old fool to get up," said Jack, angrily, being weary of such
mummery.

"My lord bids you rise, Ixtlilxochitli!" translated Cocom, more
politely.

The priest arose, with his hands folded across his breast, and, with
downcast eyes, addressed Cocom.

"Has my lord seen the holy shrine, and the thrice sacred Chalchuih
Tlatonac?"

"Yes; my lord has been graciously pleased to look at these things."

"It is well! My lord should know well the sacred shrine, so that on the
great day he be prepared to act his part, as saviour of the city, with
dignity."

"Deuce take your dignity!" cried Jack, in a rage when this polite
speech was translated. "I say Cocom, cannot we knock this old reprobate
down the steps; he wouldn't get up again in a hurry."

"Nay, nay, Señor! such a course would not be wise," replied Cocom,
hastily thinking that Jack was about to carry his threat into
execution.

"What says my lord?" asked Ixtlilxochitli blandly.

"That he will not keep you longer from the sacred offices of the god."

"It is well! See that my lord has all things, Cocom. The city is his,
and we are his, for on his sacrifice to the holy gods does the
existence of Totatzine depend."

Cocom did not deem it politic to translate this speech to Jack, fearing
lest the young man should thereupon carry out his threat, and kick the
old priest down the steps. Already he was so exasperated at being
perpetually reminded of his awful position, that it would take but
little more to make him kill this bland, servile priest--to punish at
least one of his enemies before he was slain himself. Many men would
have been paralysed by the thought of the sacrificial stone, but peril
only the more firmly braced Jack's nerves, and relying, as he did, on
Cocom's help, and his own energy, he was determined to escape from
Totatzine in some way or another. The meeting with Dolores had inspired
him with fresh energies; and, after leaving Ixtlilxochitli climbing the
steps, he hurried Cocom to the palace where he was living, with the
idea of hearing what plan of escape the Indian had conceived.

Now that Duval had seen Dolores, the reserve hitherto maintained by
Cocom entirely vanished, and he professed himself eager to explain his
designs. With instinctive caution, however, he refused to converse in
the lower room, where Jack habitually slept fearing lest they should be
overheard. It is true they constantly spoke the Spanish tongue, of
which the priestly spies were woefully ignorant; but Ixtlilxochitli was
quite crafty enough to employ a coast Indian as an eavesdropper;
therefore it was wise to put any such possibility of betrayal beyond
all doubt. With this intent, they ascended to the flat roof of the
palace; but, even here, Cocom felt doubtful of being absolutely safe.
In the end, they climbed the mirador, the sole tower of the palace,
where it was quite impossible that they could be either seen or heard
from below. Crouching on his hunkers below the low wall of the tower
platform, Cocom gravely took out some cigarettes, wrapped in
maize-husks, and presented them to Jack, who was lying full-length
against the opposite parapet. In a few minutes they were smoking, and
talking earnestly.

"The priests, Señor," said Cocom, wrapping his zarape round his thin
shoulders, "the priests say that the entrance to the secret way is in
the shrine itself on the summit of yonder teocalli. That is a lie!"

"Then where is it, Cocom?"

"Three bridges are there over the stream, Don Juan. The largest and
oldest bridge is that central one, which leads straight to the square
of the sacrifice. Señor, below that bridge is the secret way!"

"How do you know, Cocom? Were you not blindfolded when you were brought
here?"

"Yes, Señor; but I smelt water. The priests blind the eyes, and close
the ears, so that the way be not seen, nor the voice of the torrent
heard; but I, Señor, have come by the hidden way many times. It is
there. I examined it secretly one night at the peril of my life."

"And you found out you were correct?" said Jack, anxiously.

"Absolutely, Señor. Under the bridge the torrent has worn a deep
channel; at the very bottom the path runs eastward, and is concealed by
a stone wall made to look like the natural cliff of the stream. You go
up that path which leads to the foot of the waterfall, then along a
passage which leads upward to the thickest part of the forest. Leaving
this passage, you ascend steps, which lead to a narrow gorge, cut in
the top of the mountain--deep, very deep, Señor, is the pass; no one
can see the city therefrom. In the centre of the pass is a circular
space, whence ten passages, cut from the solid rock, lead everywhere.
Go by eight of these passages, and you fall over cliffs, for the path
ends abruptly. They are death-traps. Of the other two passages, one
leads to the sacred city, the other to the forests beyond the
mountains. In this circular place do the priests blindfold the
worshippers. Those who go out can reach that place, those who come in
the same; but, unless guided, they would go astray into the
death-traps. Therefore are they blindfolded by the priests, and led
forward in safety."

"What a horrible idea," said Duval, shuddering; "but how am I to know
the right passage?"

"There is a carving of the opal, throwing rays, cut at the entrance of
the passage. That is the right one. Go through that, and you come on to
a broad platform on the other side of the mountain. Steps lead down
from thence to the valley into a broad way built of old by the Toltecs.
This road ends suddenly in a wilderness of trees. Then you guide
yourself to the coast by red marks on the trunks of trees--the opal,
painted crimson, is the sign. Follow those, and you come to the
sea-shore."

"How far is it from here to the sea-shore?"

"Fifty miles, Señor."

"Fifty miles!" groaned Jack, in dismay. "However can Dolores manage to
do that? and then the perils from incoming Indians!"

"Listen, Señor. Oftentimes the priests send forth penitents who have on
them a vow of silence. I will procure dresses for my lord and Doña
Dolores. You shall be disguised as Indians under the vow of silence.
Should you meet anyone, make a sign thus, and they will permit you to
pass without question. As to the length of the way, I will give you
provisions, and you must travel to the coast as best you can. It will
take many days, but what of that? You will be free."

"Suppose we are pursued?"

"No, Señor; I have a plan. Beyond the great wall of the west is the
narrow path of the cañon. When you and Doña Dolores depart, I will take
your clothes through the gate, which is always open, and strew some of
them on the narrow path. I will let fall some blood of an animal down
the side of the cliff. Below rushes the torrent, white and fearful. When
the priests find out you are gone they will not search the secret way,
not thinking that it is known to anyone but themselves. No, Don Juan,
they will go beyond the wall, to the narrow path, and there they will
find your clothes, and those of Doña Dolores. They will then think that
you have fallen into the torrent, and so all search will cease."

"That's a capital idea, Cocom! Your ingenuity is wonderful. But when
myself and Doña Dolores come to the coast, what shall we do?"

"Wait there, Señor, in a cave I will describe to you, until I come. I
will have to remain behind so as to avert suspicion. Yes; I will tear
my hair when you have gone, and say that you have fled by the way of
the cañon; the priests will search, and think you have fallen into the
torrent. The next day, they will thrust me from the sacred city for
having not guarded you well. I will then come down to the coast, to the
cave. Once there, Señor, and we shall soon contrive some plan to get
back to Tlatonac."

"But the priests might kill you, Cocom!"

"Have no fear of that, Señor; I am old, my sacrifice would not be
acceptable to the gods. And again, Señor, I have secrets of herbs known
only to myself, which the priests fain would learn. Should they
threaten my life, I will tell them my secrets and go free."

"You can never return to Totatzine?"

"What matter," replied Cocom, indifferently. "I am very old. Soon I
will die. When I get again to Tlatonac I will worship the Virgin, and
die in my corner. Who will care? The old have no friends!"

"You will have a friend in me, Cocom," said Jack, shaking the hand of
the old Indian. "I promise you that neither myself nor Doña Dolores
will forget this service. By the way, when do we make this attempt?"

"To-morrow night, Señor."

"Bueno! But why to-morrow night?"

"At dawn, Señor, to-morrow, there will be a sacrifice to the god, and a
man will die. The priests will ask you be present so as to sanctify the
ceremony."

"A kind of rehearsal, I suppose," said Jack, grimly. "Go on, Cocom."

"Afterwards there will be a great festival. All day it will continue,
till sunset. It may be," continued Cocom, artfully, "that the priests
and the people will drink much; if so, it will be the better for us. In
any case, Don Juan, all will be weary, and sleep well at sunset. Then I
will disguise you and Doña Dolores as Indians, and lead you to the
secret way. By dawn you will be far down beyond the mountains. Travel
all night, Señor, so as to reach the central forests before dawn. For
it may be that the priests will look from the platform down the road of
the Toltecs, and there see you far off. But this, I think, will not be.
The whole city will sleep heavily, exhausted by the festival, and when
they waken, you, Señor, will have escaped."

"God grant this scheme may succeed!" said Duval, rising to his feet. "I
can never thank you sufficiently for this, Cocom."

"Bueno! You are the friend of Don Miguel, who saved my life. Be happy,
Señor; I will not fail to rescue you from the stone of Huitzilopochtli.
And now, Señor Juan, we must go down, else will the priests be
suspicious of these long talks between us."

"There is only one thing I would like to do before I leave Totatzine,"
remarked Duval, as they went down to his room.

"And that, Señor?"

"Is to break the neck of Ixtlilxochitli by throwing him down those
steps."

Cocom laughed softly. It was a rare thing for this melancholy Indian to
do, but he did not love Ixtlilxochitli, and the idea amused him
greatly.

"Come," said Duval, tapping his friend on the back, "let us go and take
the eleven. We must drink success to our scheme in a flask of
aguardiente."




CHAPTER VIII.

AN INDIAN FESTIVAL.

    The sacred drums of serpents' skins
    Send forth their muffled roar afar;
    Before the shrine the opal spins,
    A changing star!
    That flashes rays of rainbow light
    From out its breast of cloudy white,
    Rebuking sins
    Which mar!

    Oh, see the maidens forward bound,
    To swing and sway in dances wild,
    Loose locks with fragrant chaplets crowned,
    Their glances mild!
    Exchanged for looks, whose frantic fires
    The sacred god himself inspires,
    Who thrice hath frowned,
    And smiled.

    The victim! see the victim pure!
    Approaches to the stone to die;
    But for a space his pangs endure,
    And then on high
    His soul mounts upward to the sun,
    For ever with that orb to run,
    Of pleasure sure
    For aye.


That evening, Jack received an invitation from Ixtlilxochitli to be
present at dawn next morning on the summit of the teocalli, to take
part in a religious ceremony of peculiar solemnity. The god
Huitzilopochtli was to be asked if it was his will that the Indian
tribes should array their ranks in battle on the side of Don Hypolito
Xuarez? Through the opal was the answer to be given. If it gleamed red
the god desired war, if blue there was to be peace in the land. Seeing
the bloodthirsty character of the deity, and the secret understanding
between his high priest and Xuarez, there was but little doubt in the
mind of Jack as to what the answer would be. Still, as he was anxious
to know how the prophecies were given, and not averse to seeing a
unique religious ceremony, he accepted the invitation of Ixtlilxochitli
with avidity.

For many days, messages had been sent far and wide, calling on the
Indians to repair to the sacred city, and assist at the festival. The
town was filled to overflowing, and all the caravansaries in the square
of the sacrifice were crowded. Owing to the depth of the valley, the
ceremony could not take place precisely at dawn, as it was some time
before the sun rose above the peaks of the surrounding mountains. His
presence was indispensable to the ceremony, as the heart of the victim
had to be held up by the officiating priest for the benediction of his
rays. Jack rather shrank from witnessing this horrible rite,
particularly as, unless he succeeded in effecting his escape, he would
probably be forced to take part in the same function; but curiosity
triumphed over repugnance, and he looked forward eagerly to beholding
this extraordinary spectacle.

In the grey light of dawn he was awakened by the thunder of the
serpent-skin drums, which for some hours roared continuously. Springing
out of bed, he hastily put on his clothes, and had just finished
dressing when Cocom entered the room. The old Indian was arrayed in
white cotton garments, with a chaplet of flowers on his grey locks. He
had another wreath, of red blossoms, which he held out for Jack's
acceptance--an offer which that young man promptly refused. Red was the
emblem of a dedicated victim, and Jack, knowing this, objected to being
thus distinguished.

"Carrajo! No, mi amigo," he said, vigorously, "I am not going to be
decked out as a victim yet."

"Ixtlilxochitli will be angry, Señor."

"He can be as angry as the devil, for all I care. I don't intend taking
any part in this infernal idol worship. Don't they look on me as a god,
Cocom?"

"Yes, my lord; you are supposed to be the visible representative of
Tezcatlipoca, the soul of the universe."

"Bueno! Well, the soul of the universe is going to have his own way.
What is the use of being Tez--what's-his-name, if you can't do as you
please? Besides, I wear European clothes, and wreaths don't go with
this rig-out."

"As you please, Don Juan. Still, it is not wise to anger the priests."

"I'll take the risk, Cocom. By the way, I trust Doña Dolores will not
be present at this butchery to-day."

"No, Señor! She intends to sleep many hours."

"Poor girl, she needs rest, seeing we shall be walking all night. I
will rest this afternoon myself, Cocom."

"It would be wise, Señor."

"You have everything prepared?"

"Assuredly, Señor. You will find nothing wanting."

"Bueno! Now let us go to the teocalli."

The immense area of the square of sacrifice was densely packed with
Indians, mostly men, as the ceremonies of the war-god were
pre-eminently of a masculine character. A few women were to be seen;
but, as a rule, they preferred the gentler worship of Tezcatlipoca, and
left the fierce adoration of Huitzilopochtli to the rulers and
warriors. These pilgrims were one and all arrayed in white-cotton robes
similar to that of Cocom, and, like him, bore wreaths of flowers on
their locks. Many of the most opulent were draped in mantles of
gorgeous feather work, and adorned their persons with collars,
earrings, girdles, and bracelets of gold set with rough gems. The
summit of the teocalli was unoccupied, as the priests in their sable
vestments were waiting for the victim at the foot of the great
staircase. A constant thunder of drums, and shrilling of discordant
trumpets, added to the wild character of the scene.

Jack had no sooner made his appearance than the multitude, recognising
the sacred victim of the cycle, parted to let him pass through. An
immense wave of movement swept across this sea of white garments, and
all flung themselves on their faces, not even daring to look at the
august presence of the incarnate deity. Attended by Cocom, Jack passed
up the avenue, opened by religious awe in this living mass, and
ultimately gained the steps of the teocalli. Here they saw
Ixtlilxochitli, who waved his hand to intimate that they had better
ascend the staircase, which they did, without further remark.

Seated on the parapet surrounding the platform of the pyramid, Jack
looked down on the throng of people whose dark faces were turned
upwards to the shrine of the opal, and shuddered involuntarily, as he
thought of the fanaticism which had drawn this concourse together.
Devoutly did he pray that Cocom's scheme might be successful, as it was
terrible to think that in the presence of such savages he should be
slaughtered by those wild-looking priests.

The morning was slightly chilly, as the valley was yet in the shadow;
but, beyond the rim of the mountains, Jack could see the rays of the
rising sun shooting up in the roseate sky. He trembled and held his
breath as a single trumpet bellowed below, and leaning over the
parapet, saw that the procession of priests were now escorting the
victim up the stair-case. Cocom manifested no emotion, he was but half
civilised, after all, and the horror of the coming deed did not strike
him as particularly awful. Men must die sometime, was Cocom's
philosophic view of the matter, and as well might death take place on
the sacrificial stone as in any other way. Jack felt his flesh creep at
the idea of what he would soon behold; but Cocom, with folded arms,
stood like a statue of bronze, silent, indifferent, unmoved.

Up the staircase climbed that ghastly procession. The victim, a
handsome young Indian, tall and slender, seemed indifferent to his
fate, and bore his part in the ceremony with becoming dignity. As he
ascended the height, one by one he threw away his ornaments and rich
robes. His chaplet of flowers, his bracelets, earrings, girdles, his
mantle of feather work, his cotton robe of white, they were all strewed
on the steps like wreckage, and when he arrived at the summit of the
teocalli, he was completely naked. With his splendid muscular
development, his immobile face, his absolute repose, standing nude by
the jasper stone of sacrifice, he looked like a magnificent bronze
statue, and Jack could not but admire the stoical resignation with
which he met his death. Ixtlilxochitli vanished through the open door
of the shrine, and the sable-clad priests, looking like demons in their
religious frenzy, held up their arms to the east. A wild, barbaric
chant flowed from their mouths, weird and ear-piercing, rising and
falling like the waves of the sea. They chanted long lines of
invocation to the sun, and were answered by a confused roar from the
multitude below. So fierce, so savage was the music, that Jack
shuddered and closed his eyes with horror. The victim made no sign.

Then the high priest, clad in scarlet robes, and holding a knife of
itzli in his hand, came forth from the presence of the god, and made a
sign to the officiating priests. The rim of the sun was just seen above
the heights when five priests darted forward, and, seizing the
impassive victim, flung him on the altar stone. An appealing cry to
Huitzilopochtli arose from the worshippers, the drums rolled, the
trumpets bellowed, and Ixtlilxochitli rapidly opening the breast of the
young man, tore out his heart. The multitude prostrated themselves
humbly, an immense sigh exhaled upward from a thousand breasts, and
after holding the bleeding heart to the sun, now full in sight, the
high-priest flung it at the feet of the idol. Jack felt sick with
horror at the consummation of this tragedy, and closed his eyes for a
moment. When he opened them again, the dead body of the victim was
rolling down the steps of the teocalli, to plunge into the sea of white
boiling in the square.

"Horrible!" he muttered to Cocom; "these priests are devils."

"Hush, Señor!" replied the Indian in a low voice; "be cautious. Now
they consult the opal."

Wiping the perspiration from his forehead, Duval, leaning on the arm of
Cocom, entered the shrine which was crowded with priests. They all made
way for him respectfully, and, as the great drum outside commenced to
roll out its thunder, knelt in the presence of the deity. Even Cocom
bowed before the god, and Jack was the only one standing. A small fire
of coals burned on the altar, and thereon Ixtlilxochitli flung
priceless gums, storax, copal, and odorous resins. A rich perfume
spread through the temple, and a thick cloud of white smoke rolled
upward, veiling the hideous face of the war-god, hiding the now rapidly
revolving opal. A chant arose, sad and melancholy as the sweeping of
the wind through trees, supplicating and sorrowful--an appeal to the
terrible deity who had been thus propitiated with blood, with the heart
of a man.

A thin shaft of sunlight entering the temple through some unseen
opening, smote the great gem with fierce fire, causing it to glitter
with blinding splendour. Every eye was fixed on the opal, which
continued spinning incessantly, darting its rays of red and blue, and
yellow, and green. Jack, at a glance, saw how the miracle was done. The
priests cunningly twisted the gold string attached to the roof, and as
it slowly unwound itself the great gem revolved. Whether they left the
colour it was to show when still, to chance, Jack did not know, but
they must have had some trick to make it pause when they chose, for he
felt certain the red side of the stone would ultimately reveal itself.
In the semi-darkness he kept his gaze on the jewel, twirling in the
yellow glare, and heard, as in a dream, the roar of the throng far
below waiting the announcement of the god's will. The teocalli was as
an island in the midst of a sea, and against its huge base these living
waves beat without intermission.

At first the opal spun rapidly, throwing out sparks of coloured fire,
then it gradually slowed down as the string unwound itself. Slower and
slower it twisted, sparkling a ray of emerald green, a dazzling shaft
of blue, or a glory of golden haze. At last the motion was hardly
perceptible, and the worshippers held their breaths in reverential awe.
It moved slightly, it paused, it began to revolve slowly backward, and
then, with a slow oscillation, hung motionless from the roof. From out
its white breast shot a fierce glare of violent crimson. The will of
the god was war!

Amid a dead silence Ixtlilxochitli stalked forth to the verge of the
staircase, now wearing only his black garments, and held up his scarlet
mantle as a sign that the opal was red. A frantic shout of delight
roared upward to the sky, and the multitude below broke into a frenzy
of joy. The religious ceremonies were at an end, the festival had
commenced.

"Por el amor de Dios, let me go back to my room," whispered Jack, in
the ear of Cocom. "If I stay here, I will assuredly smash that idol and
kick old Ixtlilxochitli down the steps."

Unwilling to risk such a scandal, Cocom hurried his charge out of the
temple at once. Ixtlilxochitli came forward as Jack departed, evidently
expecting to be congratulated on a successful performance, but the
young engineer, with a gesture of repugnance, turned his back on the
old villain, and sprang down the steps of the teocalli. The high-priest
looked grave. This dissatisfaction of the visible deity was a bad omen.

"This place is a hell upon earth," cried Jack, throwing himself down on
his couch. "How many victims do they sacrifice to that infernal deity,
Cocom?"

The old man counted on his fingers.

"Señor, about one hundred in the year, more or less."

"How terrible!"

"Yes, Don Juan, more were offered up in the old days. It is said by the
priests that at the dedication of the great Teocalli in Mexico seventy
thousand victims were offered to Huitzilopochtli."

"Butchery! I tell you what, Cocom, if I get safely back, and this war
is concluded in favour of the Junta, I will get Don Francisco Gomez to
send an army to stop this sort of thing."

Cocom smiled scornfully.

"Nay, Señor; no army could reach the city of Totatzine. It is hidden,
and the secret way is but narrow, as you shall see. Besides, Don Juan,
I would not aid an army to come hither. The city is sacred."

"But you do not believe in this devil-worship?"

"No, Señor. Still, it was the religion of my fathers. I do not wish it
destroyed."

Jack saw that his proposition was distasteful to the old Indian, so did
not make further remark, fearful of raising anger in Cocom's breast. If
this one friend refused to assist them, neither himself nor Dolores
could hope to escape. Therefore Jack was wise and held his peace.
Shortly afterwards he intimated his desire to sleep in order to prepare
for the fatigue of the midnight journey, so Cocom left him, and
departed to make all arrangements for the escape.

All day long the festival continued. Even through the massive walls of
his room Jack could hear the shrieks and yells of the worshippers as
they maddened themselves with pulque and aguardiente. Once he had the
curiosity to ascend to the flat roof and look down on the square. It
was filled with a mass of frenzied human beings, who danced and sang,
and bellowed wildly. Some cut themselves with knives, others climbing
up to the summit of the teocalli flung themselves headlong down the
staircase. Great fires were lighted in the square, and rings of
Indians, men and women, danced round them, singing frantically.
Everywhere the priests, long-haired, sable-robed, inciting worshippers
to fresh frenzies, constantly the wild piping of barbaric music, the
rumbling of drums. It was a horrible sight, this madness of the
multitude, and after a glance or so Jack descended to his bedroom to
think over the future.

He was anxious to regain Tlatonac and see his friends once more. Philip
and Peter, and Tim, would be grieving for his loss; but they, no doubt,
thought that he was at Acauhtzin and not pent up in this city of
devildom. Jack knew well that Philip would never have turned _The
Bohemian's_ nose south unless he had been compelled to do so. Against
the heavy guns of ships and forts the bravest man could do nothing, and
the yacht had been forced to retreat. Doubtless Philip had steamed
direct to Tlatonac, and insisted on an army being sent to Acauhtzin to
release his friend and Dolores. But this could not be; as Jack felt
sure there were no transports to take the soldiers northward by sea,
and the inland route was impossible.

How had the war gone? Had the torpederas arrived? or had Don Hypolito
sent the war-ships filled with soldiers southward to attack Janjalla,
and from thence forced his way overland to the capital? The campaign
would probably be conducted as theorised by Don Rafael. Xuarez would
first capture Janjalla, march his troops northward across the plains to
effect a conjunction with the Indians before the walls of Tlatonac, and
then bring his war-ships up to the capital. In this way the city would
be assaulted on both sides: bombarded by the war-ships, and stormed by
the regular troops of the Opposidores and the Indian tribes.

"I must escape," thought Duval, as he restlessly tossed and turned on
his couch. "This last order of the Opal will send an Indian army to the
walls of Tlatonac. I know all or most of the plans of Xuarez and when I
tell them to Don Francisco he may be able to thwart them. It is now two
weeks since I was taken by that infernal Don Hypolito, and we cannot
regain Tlatonac for at least another five or six days, if, indeed then.
Three weeks is a long time, and many events may have happened. I hope
those fellows are all right. Once I get back, we shall manage to baffle
Xuarez in some way."

These thoughts were not conducive to slumber, but during the afternoon
he managed to obtain a few hours of sleep. The herbal medicines of
Cocom had completely restored him to health, and he now felt strong
enough to undergo the hardships of the journey to the coast. Dolores,
however, was delicate, and Jack dreaded to think how she would suffer.
Still, it was a case of life or death, so it was best to make the
attempt. Anything was better than the certainty of a horrible death for
one, constant imprisonment for the other. At whatever cost, they must
escape.

"It's a case of Pike's Peak, or bust," said Jack recalling the
favourite expression of an American comrade. "I hope to the Lord we
won't bust, this trip."

Towards sunset Cocom came to wake him for the great attempt. He brought
a very gratifying report as to the state of the population, who were
all either drunk or worn out with religious frenzy. The priests were
scarcely better, and in three hours not a soul in the sacred city would
be capable of observation or movement. It is true that in the
commercial half of the town across the torrent, many people might be on
the alert; but fortunately the entrance to the secret way was on the
sacerdotal side of the bridge, so that the two lovers could escape
unseen. Jack was delighted to hear that things promised so well, and
proceeded under the supervision of Cocom to disguise himself as an
Indian.

It was not a particularly agreeable task, for he had to strip to the
buff, and sponge himself from head to foot with a liquid so as to
darken his skin. He was also forced to sacrifice his moustache, as the
Central American Indians have no hair on their faces. Jack sorely
rebelled against this demand, but recognising that there was no help
for it, he shaved himself clean as directed, stained his face, dyed his
hair, and at length stood out a very athletic young Indian. Being thus
physically perfect, he assumed sandals of hide, short white cotton
drawers, a loose cotton shirt, an ample scarlet woollen mantle, and a
crown of peacock's feathers. Cocom also adorned him with a plentitude
of bracelets and jingling ornaments. Thus arrayed, Jack was supposed to
be a penitent under a vow of silence, travelling to the coast with his
sister.

"I hope, Cocom, there won't be any rain," he said, as he followed the
Indian out of the room; "it might wash the dye off."

"No fear! no rain," replied the Indian, confidently; "the staining will
hold, Señor. Now, not a word! It is dangerous."

So long had the perfecting of the disguise taken that it was now
considerably after eight o'clock, and the moon was shining brilliantly
in the sky. Guided by the old man, Jack stepped lightly across the
square, which was cumbered with human bodies in all kinds of positions.
Some sleeping heavily from exhaustion, others from intoxication, the
whole of the immense area looked like a battle-field strewn with dead
men. In the midst arose the huge mound of the teocalli, menacing,
formidable. Not a sound broke the stillness, save the sigh of some
sleeper, or the restless turning of another. Under the clear sky lay
the field of the dead, and as Jack stepped gently across the prostrate
bodies he could not help shuddering.

Remembering Cocom's caution, however, he uttered no sound, but followed
the Indian towards the bridge. Here, in the shadow of the wall, they
found Dolores stained as was her lover, and fantastically tricked out
in savage finery. When she saw Jack's tall form with the nodding plumes
on his head, she could not restrain an exclamation of surprise, but in
another moment was clasped in his arms.

"Peace, dear one," whispered Jack, fondly kissing her; "keep your heart
brave. We must not wait a moment. Alas! querida, I feel doubtful that
you will bear the fatigues of the mountains."

"Fear not, Juanito!" she answered, hastily drying her tears; "the
Virgin will sustain and protect us in the wilderness. With thee by my
side, I have no fear."

Cocom, impatient of this delay, made a clucking noise with his tongue,
so they at once sprang towards him. He guided them a little distance
past the bridge towards the left, and paused before a high wall,
pierced by a dozen or more gateways, with massive doors, grotesquely
carved. By some trick, known only to himself, the old man opened the
valves of one door, and motioned them to enter. On doing so, they found
themselves in an immense oblong court-yard, decorated round the walls
with nothing but huge statues of the god Huitzilopochtli. Cocom had
closed the outside door, and standing in the open court, the fugitives
could see no mode of ingress or egress. The moon shining brightly made
all things as clear as day, and all around, at intervals of a yard,
arose the mighty images, between which was but smooth wall. It was a
trap out of which no one could hope to emerge.

"The worshippers, Señor," explained Cocom, in a low voice, "are
admitted into this court from the secret way on the right. When the
court is full, their bandages are removed, and no one can tell how he
entered, or how he can go out. This confuses all, and then the bandages
are replaced, and they are thrust out of those many doors on to the
street, and guided to the great square. When they see, they behold but
the great teocalli, and cannot tell the way by which they came. Neither
can the dwellers in Totatzine, for none are admitted to this court."

"And the secret way?" asked Jack, anxiously.

"Is behind one of those statues, Señor."

Both Jack and Dolores looked blankly at the long line of hideous images
against the opposite wall. One statue was as like the other as two
peas, and it was absolutely impossible to tell which one concealed the
entrance. Jack turned to Cocom, and shook his head.

"If my life depended on it, I could not tell."

"Eh, Señor, your life does depend on it," said Cocom, grimly, enjoying
his little joke. "Behold!"

He walked slowly forward, and to all appearance chose a statue at
random. Touching a spring in the protuberant stomach of the idol, the
massive image swung outward, revealing a dark passage. The two lovers
ran forward, but were stopped by Cocom.

"That passage, Señor, ends with a precipice," he said, with emphasis;
"if you went down there, you would fall into the torrent."

"A misleading way," said Duval, shrinking back with a shudder at the
horrible imagination of the idea. "Are there others?"

"This, and this, and this," replied Cocom, causing several statues to
swing out of their places. "All passages you see, Don Juan; all snares
for the unwary. Let me put the images back again. So! Now, Señor,
observe. This image of Huitzilopochtli has a representation of the opal
in its forehead. That is the mark of the way throughout. See!"

The statue swung round, and Cocom, stepping boldly into the yawning
cavity disclosed, beckoned to them to follow. With the terrified
Dolores on his arm, Jack did so, and they found themselves at the top
of a flight of damp-looking steps. Once inside, and Cocom, pressing the
spring, restored the image to its proper position; then, taking Jack's
hand, led him down the staircase. Clasping Dolores tightly, he
cautiously descended into the pitchy gloom. They seemed to be
proceeding into the bowels of the earth. Down, and down, and still
down, until the hoarse roar of the torrent struck their ears, and
emerging into a darkness little less dense than that in the passage,
they found themselves on a rocky ledge, below the huge structure of the
bridge, almost on a level with the water. At their feet swirled and
foamed the flood, raging over sharp-pointed rocks. To the right, a path
led upward in a gentle slope; to the left, a similar path descended.
Cocom pointed to this latter.

"Another trap, Señor," he said, grimly, "ending in the cañon. Take that
path, and you would die. Follow this one to the right, and it will lead
you to the great platform beyond the mountains. From thence you can
descend by the great way, and when in the forest, track your path by
the scarlet sign of the opal. Always the opal, Señor. Go nowhere but
where that sign points."

"I will remember," replied Jack, confidently.

"Take this wallet, Señor. It contains food for some days, and cacao
leaves, and strong drink. It will last until you reach the cave whereof
I told you. Wait there for me, and I will come shortly. Remember always
the rule of silence--that you are both penitents--the sign thus--lip
and forehead. Now go, Señor. I depart to scatter your clothes on the
narrow way, and spread a false report of your death in the torrent,
while escaping. In four days, Señor, expect me at the cave. Adios, lady
of the precious stone, and you, Señor."

He sprang backward into the darkness up the stair, and left the lovers
standing in that gloomy inferno, with the torrent roaring below, the
huge masonry of the bridge high above, and, to the right, that perilous
way which they must tread to reach safety. Duval expected Dolores to
give way at thus finding herself in such danger, but, to his surprise,
she was brave, and gay, and strong.

"Come, querido," she said, cheerfully, "let us go at once. We must
reach the forests before dawn, if possible."

"It will exhaust you terribly, angelito!"

"Probably. Still, I must keep up, if only for your sake! Come, querido!
let us depart."

They moved simultaneously towards the right.

Oh, that interminable passage, long and narrow and always ascending.
They thought it would never end; but at length it terminated at the
foot of the waterfall. Down from a great height thundered great masses
of water, smashing to foam in the basin below. The spray, rising fine
and mist-like, was damp on their faces. They could not hear themselves
speak, owing to the roar. Jack grasped the hand of Dolores to give her
courage, and turned off abruptly to the right where they entered a
passage cut out of the solid rock. Still gently sloping upward, the
path lead them out into a vast clearing, girdled on all sides by great
trees. The moon shone bright as day; and across the grass ran an
indistinct track. Following this, they found a great flight of steps
leading upward under the boughs of mighty trees--pine, and oak, and
hemlock, throwing their giant branches across, and almost shutting out
the moonlight sky. The staircase was crumbled and old, but wonderfully
built of great blocks of stone. Jack could not restrain his admiration
at this Titanic work.

"How did they do it?" he said to Dolores, as they painfully climbed up
the superb stair; "they must have known a lot about engineering, those
Toltecs. To swing these blocks into their places must have taken
derricks and complicated machinery. A wonderful work; a wonderful race.
How Philip would enjoy this!"

"I think Señor Felipe would rather be where he is--in Tlatonac,"
replied Dolores, wearily. "I would I were in the Casa Maraquando."

"Cheer up, my heart! We will be there in a few days. Will I carry you,
cara?"

"Dios, no! You are already laden!"

"But you are as light as a feather."

"Eh, Juanito. You would not find that after carrying me for an hour or
so. No; I am still able to walk. I am stronger than you think."

They steadily climbed up the staircase, and at length entered the
narrow gorge described by Cocom. Here Jack made the girl sit down and
drink some wine, which did her so much good that in a few minutes she
declared herself ready to resume the journey. Thus fortified, they
entered the gorge, and, cautiously following its windings, at length
emerged suddenly into a circular space. So unexpectedly did they enter
that, as passages opened out in all directions, they could not tell by
which way they had come. This pit--for it was little else, hewn out of
the rock--was fifty or sixty feet in depth, and must have represented
years of toil. On all sides, innumerable passages darted out like rays,
and it was this thought that caused Jack to exclaim--

"It is like the opal, Dolores. This space is the stone, those passages
the rays; so it serves a double purpose--to mislead the runaway, and
yet be a symbol of the Chalchuih Tlatonac."

Fortune favoured the fugitives, for the moon, directly overhead, sent
down her full glory into the pit. Had they arrived later, they would
probably have had to wait till dawn, as the blackness would have been
too intense to permit them to find the true outlet. But the moonlight,
by happy chance, was so strong that, after carefully examining the
sides of several entrances, Jack at length hit on the sign. A huge
crimson blot, with scarlet rays, blazed on a passage to the right.

"Here we are, Dolores," cried Duval, joyfully, "this is the right way;
but we must be careful, and not risk a snare; one can never tell what
these infernal Indians are up to."

With great caution they entered the tunnel indicated by the sign, and
feeling every step before them, for the whole place was intensely dark,
moved onward at a snail's pace. The tunnel wound hither and thither,
until they felt quite bewildered. For a time the passage was level, but
after a series of turnings it began to slope gently downwards, and so
continued to the entrance.

"I hope to Heaven there are no branch tunnels," said Jack, anxiously,
"we could easily go off the main track in this gloom."

"I am sure there are no side tunnels," replied Dolores, decisively;
"even the priests could not find their way through this place otherwise
than with one way. If there were other tunnels, they would lose
themselves, and that they would not care to risk."

"Well, let us move on. At all events, the tunnel is getting
straighter," remarked Jack, hopefully. "I wish Cocom had given us a
torch."

"What is that yonder?" cried Dolores, pressing his arm. "A gleam of
light."

"Bueno! It is the exit. Come, Dolores, and say no word, lest, when we
emerge on to the platform, there should be Indians waiting there.
Remember our vow of silence."

Encouraged by this sign of deliverance, they hurried rapidly forward,
quite certain that the ground was safe, and in a few minutes stepped
out of the tunnel's mouth on to a mighty platform, half way down the
mountain. Jack cast a swift glance to right and left, but the area of
masonry was quite bare. They were the only human beings thereon. He
turned to speak to Dolores, and found her staring motionless at the
magnificent scene before her.

The platform, Jack guessed, was fully a quarter of a mile in length,
and enormously wide. It had first been hewn out of the living rock, and
then faced with masonry, flagged with stones. Here was adopted the same
device for misleading strangers as had been done in the court of the
gods, at the entrance from Totatzine. The whole face of the cliff, at
the back of the terrace, was perforated with tunnels, and now that they
had moved to the verge of the platform neither of them could tell which
tunnel they had come out of. Saving one, all those passages led to
death and destruction. Only one was safe, and that the tunnel
distinguished by the opal sign. No one, ignorant of that sign, could
have escaped death.

"I don't wonder Totatzine remains hidden," said Jack, thoughtfully.
"The whole of that path is a mass of danger and snares. Now, however,
we shall have a clearer way."

Turning towards the east, they beheld a vast stair-case sloping
downward to a broad road, at the sides of which were giant images of
the gods. In the pale moonlight they looked like demons, so frightful
were their aspects. In long lines, like pillars, they stretched away
eastward, into the forests, ending in dim obscurity. On either side,
dense foliage; away in the distance, a sea of green trees. There was
nothing but trackless woods and this great road, piercing into the
emerald profundity like a wedge. Behind, arose tall red cliffs, crowned
with ancient trees, tunnelled with black cavities. From thence spread
out the platform with its huge blocks of stone, its walls covered with
hieroglyphics, statues of fierce gods, and vast piles of truncated
towers. Below, the forests, the roadway, the staircase.

"What a terrible place, Dolores," said Jack, drawing a long breath. "It
is like the abode of demons. Come! it is now after midnight, and the
moon will soon be setting. While we have the light, let us try to reach
the end of yonder avenue."

"One moment, Juan," replied Dolores, drawing forth something from her
bosom. "While Cocom was with you, I went up to the shrine of
Huitzilopochtli and took in--this."

Between her fingers, in the pale moonlight, it flashed faintly with
weak sparks of many coloured fire. Jack bounded forward.

"The Harlequin Opal!" he exclaimed, delighted. "You have taken the
Harlequin Opal."




CHAPTER IX.

THE FUGITIVES.

    The sun goes down, the twilight wanes,
    With reddened spurs and hanging reins,
    We urge our steeds across the plains.

    For you and I are flying far,
    From those who would our loving mar,
    And prison you with bolt and bar.

    Sigh not, dear one, look not so white,
    My castle stands on yonder height,
    We'll reach it e'er the morning's light.

    The future's joy this night is born,
    I wed thee in the early morn,
    And laugh my rivals twain to scorn.


It was fifty miles from Totatzine to the coast. Dolores being a woman,
and weak, Jack, owing to illness, not being quite so strong as usual,
they found it difficult to do more on an average than two miles an
hour. To make up for slow walking they stretched out their
pedestrianism to twelve hours between dawn and eve, thus reaching the
sea-shore in two days. They arrived at the cave spoken of by Cocom,
which was a harbour of refuge to them in their sore distress,
completely worn out, body and soul and garments. Still they felt a
certain amount of comfort in three consolations: First, they had
escaped from Totatzine with their lives. Secondly, the wallet was not
yet exhausted of meat and drink, so that they were in no danger of
starvation. Thirdly, Cocom, always supposing he would hoodwink the
priests as to his share in their escape, would arrive within twelve
hours or thereabouts. Thus fortified with food and hope, they stayed
thankfully in the cave and waited the arrival of the old Indian.

As to the journey from platform to cave, that had been a horrible
dream, a nightmare of hardship, of weariness, of many pangs. Starting
from the terrace shortly after midnight, they had traversed the avenue
in three hours. It was five miles in length, and proceeding at the rate
of two miles every sixty minutes, it can be easily seen that they could
gain the shelter of the forest long before dawn. The great road ended
abruptly amid a confused heap of ruins, forest trees, tangled
undergrowth. Doubtless, in the old time it had continued even to the
coast, but time and the Indians had obliterated all traces of its
magnificence five miles down. The former did this because it is his
invariable custom to so treat all human works, which set themselves up
as enduring for ever; the latter played havoc with the relics of their
ancestors' magnificence, so as to hide the city of Totatzine from the
eyes of the white destroyers, who had trodden out of existence those
same ancestors. Nature had also done her share in the work of
destruction, and sent a wave of green trees across the straight line of
cause-way. Therefore, the road which began so proudly at the foot of
the great staircase ended suddenly, after five miles, in the tangled
wilderness.

The journey from Totatzine to this point had been long and arduous. The
moon had set behind the hills so that it was now dark, and to explore
an unknown forest in such gloom would have been foolish, therefore Jack
insisted that they should take some rest. In the midst of an old palace
he constructed a bed for Dolores with the aid of his and her own cloak,
and after seeing her safely bestowed therein, lay down at the entrance
so as to act as a sleeping sentinel if such a thing be possible.
Nothing particular occurred, however, and when they awoke the sun was
already high in the heavens. Then they made a frugal breakfast and
resumed their journey.

The way being no longer clearly defined, their progress was necessarily
slow from this point. To the right, on the trunk of a tree, appeared
the sign of a scarlet opal as before pictured on the rocks, so to the
right they went, and at once, even at these few steps from the
causeway, found themselves in the heart of a wild, tropical forest.
There was something terrible to these two civilised beings about the
primeval savagery of this vegetation and exuberant foliage. Dense,
tangled, almost impenetrable, it reminded Jack of the wood grown by
fairy power round the palace of the sleeping beauty. That forest,
however was to keep lovers out; this, alas! served to keep these lovers
in. It lay between them and the coast, quite thirty-five miles of wild
growth, and at times Dolores almost despaired of breaking through the
barrier. Not so Jack, he was hopeful of ultimate success being
strengthened in his faith by the constant appearance of the opal sign.

On every side of them rose giant trees of hoary age, their trunks
seemingly supporting the verdant roof above-head. At times, so dense
were the leaves that sky and sun and kindly light were shut out
entirely, and they moved through a translucent twilight of tremulous
green. From trunks and boughs depended lianas like ropes binding the
forest giants together, or, dropping to the ground, formed a ladder up
which climbed the most exquisite flowers. Splendid tree-ferns drooped
their gigantic fronds on high, springing thickly from tall pillars,
rough, brown, and hairy. Below, the ground was thick with brilliant
blossoms, which seized every chance offered by rock, liana, and trunk
to climb upward to that light excluded by the sea of foliage overhead.

At every step the forest changed its appearance, as though it were an
enchanted wood. Here, all was savagery and gloom; step forward, and lo!
a wide and sunny glade. One moment, and they were surrounded by
moss-covered rocks; the next, and a noble avenue of palms opened a
vista before them. Pools of water sparkled here and there; babbling
brooks winding capriciously in and out in wayward circles; at times,
the sudden gleam of a waterfall, threading downwards in white streaks
from a giant rock; and again, the miasma of a swamp, black and
evil-looking, in whose waters rolled the trunks of fallen trees.
Everywhere flowers bursting into bloom; everywhere new leaves swelling
into being; everywhere the exuberant life of a tropic climate. The
atmosphere was warm and damp, a clammy air permeated the woods, and the
whole place was one vast hothouse, where fecundation went on
unceasingly. Throughout, a rich perfume pervaded the air, heavy,
sickly, and languorous.

Fortunately, Jack's sight had been rendered keen by his profession,
else it would have been difficult to have discerned the sign, on trunk
of tree, or mossy rock. Scarlet is a noticeable colour, and had the
opal sign been the only red hue in the forest, there would have been no
difficulty in the matter. But everywhere scarlet flowers made fire of
the intense emerald of foliage and grass. Dazzling masses of crimson
verbena glared fiercely in the dim gloom, vermilion blossoms burned
like lamps in the dense brushwood, wreaths of ruddy leaves made streaks
like veins overhead, and the ground blazed with the pinks and carmines
and purples of an infinite variety of blossoms. It was difficult to
pick out the red-opal sign amid this constant repetition of the same
tints; but Jack, by careful observation, managed to do so, being guided
at times by a well-defined path. Indeed, often he was tempted to ignore
the sign, and go only by the path; but, as numerous branches led off
from the omphalos of the great road, he was afraid of going astray, so
kept his reckoning by the opal alone.

For two days they travelled through this zone of verdure, and at
length, by the salt smell in the air, became aware that they were
nearing the ocean. At times they met Indians, gaudily dressed, with
painted faces, and deadly looking weapons; but these, on observing the
scarlet mantles of the pair, and receiving the sign on lips and
forehead, stepped aside to let them pass. They recognised that these
travellers were proceeding eastward by the will of the god, under the
vow of silence. Superstition, stronger than greed or cruelty, protected
them from the savages of the wilderness.

The journey was not dull, in spite of their anxiety and dread of being
followed. On every side the forest was full of life, and Dolores was
delighted to see the constant flashing of humming-birds, green, red and
yellow glories, which darted through the still air like flying gems.
Once they saw the yellow hide of a jaguar, black spotted, sleek, and
terrible. Jack had nothing but a knife, given to him by Cocom, and
regretted that he had not his revolver with him. A knife was but a poor
weapon to do battle with such a terrible foe. To their relief, however,
the animal only eyed them for a few minutes in startled surprise, and
then slunk away among the undergrowth. Other perils from wild animals
they had none.

Sometimes the whole air would be alive with butterflies. Purple, yellow
spotted, azure striped, they fluttered everywhere. One would have
thought the flowers were alive, and flew from stem to stem. Peter, as
Jack thought, would have been in his element. This forest was the true
paradise of butterflies. But they had no time to admire all this skill
and fecundity of Nature. Resolutely following the opal sign, they
pushed onward through the forest. They saw on all sides the puzzle
monkey trees, with their sharp spikes; ombù trees, whose shade is so
dense; aloes, whose branches spread outward like the seven-stemmed
candlestick of the Revelation; palms, mangoes, wild fig trees; cactus,
burning with fleshy scarlet blossoms, and shallow lagunas, swampy pools
of water, filled with sedges and rushes and slimy weeds.

The din was constant. Monkeys swung themselves from bough to bough
overhead, chattered without ceasing; parrots, gay plumaged, harsh
voiced, shrieked discordantly in their ears; the roaring of jaguars and
pumas sounded faint in the distance, like muffled thunder; and ever
rasped the stridulation of restless grasshoppers, unseen but noisy.

Such a wealth of invention, such overpowering luxuriance, wore out the
senses, wearied the soul. Both Jack and Dolores were glad when the
sharp, salt smell of the sea struck knife-like through the enervating
atmosphere. They had been travelling since dawn, and now, at noon, on
the third day of their departure from Totatzine, they beheld the great
waste of waters, flashing like a mirror in the sun. Jack should have
greeted it as did the Hellens of Epaminondas, with a joyful cry of
"Thalatta! Thalatta!" but he had forgotten his Greek, and was too weary
to feel poetic.

At this stage of their journey, they met with many Indians, who here
landed in order to proceed to the shrine of the opal. Dolores was much
afraid of their secret being discovered, and even Jack was somewhat
doubtful of the efficacy of the vow of silence; but, in this case, as
in others, fanaticism proved their safeguard, for they passed unharmed,
even unspoken to, through the mass of savages. On arriving at the verge
of the sea, Jack at once sought out the cave described by Cocom; and,
leading Dolores thereto, for a short space of time, they were in
safety.

From this point, as Jack had learned in Totatzine, the city of Tlatonac
was distant about twenty miles down the coast, and as there were plenty
of canoes drawn up on the beach, it would have been easy for them to
have proceeded at once on their journey. Gratitude to Cocom, however,
prevented this, and they remained that night in the cave in order to
await his arrival. The hiding-place was a natural cavern of wide
extent, and, after making Dolores as comfortable as he could, Jack
retired to the entrance, and kept guard, lest they should be surprised
by some wandering savage.

Throughout this perilous journey, nothing could exceed the tenderness
and chivalry with which Duval behaved towards Dolores. He was tireless
in his efforts to spare her all fatigues, in keeping up her spirits, in
guarding her from all the annoyances consequent on travelling
ill-provided through a dense forest. Dolores said nothing at the time,
but took silent note of all this courtesy, and over and over again
breathed a thankful prayer that the man whom she loved had proved
himself so noble in the hour of danger. It was a disagreeable position
to a girl brought up as she had been in strict observance of etiquette;
but Jack came triumphantly through the ordeal, and gained rather than
lost in her eyes by the nobility of his character, by the rare delicacy
of his behaviour.

The only thing that Duval feared was that the loss of the opal might
cause the priests to mistrust Cocom's story, and send out word far and
wide that the sacred gem had been torn from the temple. It was true
that they had gained a twelve hours' start, but, owing to the delicacy
of Dolores' constitution, they had travelled very slowly to the coast,
and at any moment messengers with news of the theft might arrive on the
scene. In such an event, all the Indians on the coast would be examined
as to whether a man and woman had passed seaward in company. Owing to
their clothes being scattered in the gorge, the priests (supposing they
did not trust these signs of death) would know they were disguised as
Indians, therefore the dresses would avail them but little. Neither
would the vow of silence be of much use, as in this crisis they would
be questioned as to whom they were, to what tribe did they belong, and
as neither of them could speak a word of Indian, the situation would
become serious. The only hope, therefore, that they had of safety was
of the arrival of Cocom without delay. If he arrived next morning, all
would be well, if not, Jack discussed the advisability of taking a
canoe, and proceeding at once to Tlatonac.

At dawn next morning they were both eating a hurried meal in the cave,
and talking over the advisability of making a retreat while it was yet
time.

"As soon as they find out the opal is missing, the whole country will
rise in arms," said Jack, emphatically; "and every Indian will be
questioned closely, both within and without the town."

"But the news won't reach the coast for some time, Juan."

"I question very much if it has not reached the coast now," replied
Jack, a trifle drily. "From the end of that road are many other paths
to the coast, so swift messengers might have passed us in that way. Let
us hope, however, that this is not the case, and that Cocom will be the
first to bring the news that the opal is lost."

"Cocom will guess that I have taken the opal!"

"Doubtless; and the question is whether he will permit you to take it
to Tlatonac."

"But why not, Juanito? I am the guardian of the opal. It is mine."

"Querida, you are wrong. It is the property of Huitzilopochtli. You are
only its guardian--a mere honorary position that does not entail
possession of the stone. Its proper place, according to the Indian's
superstition, is in the shrine of Totatzine."

"But Cocom is a Christian. He will not care about my taking it."

"Dios! I am not so sure of that, Dolores. Cocom, by his own profession,
was brought up an idolater, and old habits cling. It is true that he
was converted by the good Padre, and I have no doubt his Catholicism is
very fair--for an Indian. But if he does not worship the war-god, he at
least believes in the prophetic quotations of the Opal; and, thus
believing, may resent it being taken from the shrine."

"Then I will say nothing about it."

"Useless, angelito! Cocom knows that no other person than ourselves
would dare to steal the Chalchuih Tlatonac. I was with him all the
time, so he will know it cannot be me. Naturally enough, he will think
it is you."

"And therefore betray us?"

"No, I do not think he will do that. After all his trouble, it would be
foolish of him to now play the traitor, for then his concurrence in our
escape would become known, and get him into bad odour with the priests.
But it is possible that he might insist on your leaving the opal
behind, to be sent back to Totatzine."

"No," cried Dolores, decisively; "I will rather throw it into the sea.
Now that the gem is away from the shrine, those horrid priests may stop
sacrificing men to the idol. Besides," she added, naïvely "it is mine."

"Ah! that is an all-sufficient reason," replied Duval, smiling. "Like
all women, querida, you are fond of gems, and do not like to part with
this one."

"It is very beautiful," sighed Dolores, taking the stone from her
breast. "See how it glitters, Juanito. Ah! what is that?"

A long, shrill whistle sounded outside the cave.

"Cocom!" cried Jack, starting to his feet. "Hide the opal for the
present, Dolores."

It was indeed Cocom who entered. Cocom looking much older than usual,
and quite worn out with his long journey from Totatzine. He saluted
them gravely, and wrapping himself in his zarape crouched on the floor
of the cave, with his eyes intently fixed on them both. The expression
of his face was as usual, and Jack was quite unable to decide whether
he approved of or resented the rape of the shining precious stone.

"You look tired, Cocom," said Jack, passing him a flask of aguardiente.
"Take a drink of this. It will do you good."

The old man greedily seized the flask, and drained it to the bottom. As
it was more than half full Jack fully expected to see him fall
helplessly intoxicated on the floor. But Cocom's head was seasoned to
strong drink, and it only made him look younger, as though the
aguardiente were a draught from the fountain of Youth.

"Have you it, Señorita?" he asked, fixing his beady eyes on Dolores.

"Yes," replied Dolores, off her guard. "That is, I----"

"Bueno!" said Cocom, nodding his head. "You have the opal. I am
content."

Jack drew a long breath of relief. Cocom's sympathy with the idolatry
of his youth was not evidently strong enough to stir him into protest
against the gem being stolen. Or perhaps he deemed that Dolores had
more right to it than Huitzilopochtli. At all events, he did not seem
ill-pleased that she was now in possession of the celebrated stone.

"What say the priests, Cocom?" he asked anxiously.

"They are in despair, Señor, over the loss of the sacred stone."

"Do they know who has taken it?"

Cocom pointed one copper-coloured finger at Dolores.

"They knew that the Chalchuih Tlatonac is with the guardian; but they
think that the guardian and you, Señor, are at the bottom of the
cañon--in the bed of the torrent."

"Then your ruse was successful?"

"Yes, Señor! I strewed the clothes on the narrow path, and in the dawn
awoke the town with my cries. Ixtlilxochitli, with his priests, came to
inquire the trouble. I told them that you, Señor, had escaped. They,
not guessing you had gone by the secret way, thought you had fled alone
by the cañon. The narrow way was examined, your clothes were found, the
blood on the cliffs, the clothes of Doña Dolores. Then they knew she
had fled with you, and deemed both had fallen in the darkness over the
cliff into the torrent."

"And the Chalchuih Tlatonac?" asked Dolores, breathlessly.

"They discovered that loss on returning to the teocalli for the morning
sacrifice. All the priests were in despair, and Ixtlilxochitli, knowing
you had taken the sacred gem, Señor, burnt a lock of your hair to----"

"A lock of my hair!" interrupted Jack, in surprise; "how did they get
that?"

"Some of your hair was cut off when you were ill, and preserved in the
temple."

"And why did they burn it?"

"Because, by doing so, they devote your soul to Tlacatecolotl, the evil
one."

"Oh, the Aztec devil," replied Duval, carelessly. "Much good that will
do them. I should have thought it wiser for them to look for the
stone."

"They are looking for it, Señor, and for your body--in the bed of the
torrent."

"I'm afraid they will be disappointed with the result of their search.
So they think we are dead?"

"Yes, Señor. You are safe from pursuit; but I am not."

"What do you mean?"

Cocom withdrew his left arm from the fold of his zarape. The hand was
cut off, and nothing remained but the stump of the wrist, seared with
hot-iron. A hideous object. Dolores cried out, and hid her face in her
hands with a shudder. Jack at once understood why Cocom had acquiesced
so calmly in the theft of the opal.

"Behold, Señor!" said the old man, shaking the mutilated wrist at Jack,
with a look of hatred; "this was my punishment for suffering you to
escape. My hand was cut off before Huitzilopochtli, and burned with
red-hot iron. Then I was shut up in prison, to wait till the god's will
was known."

"My poor Cocom!" cried Jack, much distressed, "how you have suffered
for aiding us. Thank Heaven you have escaped!"

"Yes, Señor. Ixtlilxochitli did not think I could leave the city; but
in the night I got out of the window of my prison, and followed you
down the secret way. With all my strength I followed, but I feel sure
that the hounds of the priests are on my track."

"But as Ixtlilxochitli knows you are not aware of the secret way,
he----"

"Señor," interrupted Cocom, vehemently, "he must know it now. After the
discovery of the cañon, guards were placed there. I have left the city.
One other way only could I have gone--the secret way. Believe me,
Señor, the Indians are not far behind."

"Dios!" cried Dolores, in terror, "we will be discovered!"

"Not so, Señorita! On my way hither, I met a friend coming from
Tlatonac to the shrine. He told me that the boat of the Americano had
gone some days since to Acauhtzin, to demand the release of Don Juan.
She returns to-day, and will pass this point at noon. There is a canoe
below, Señor! Let us depart in that canoe, and meet the steamer."

Jack sprang to his feet, with a shout, at this prospect of deliverance.

"Philip's yacht," he cried, joyfully; "good! We will do as you say, at
once, Cocom, and cut across the line of her passage. She will be sure
to pick us up."

"Not now, Señor! At noon!"

Jack went to the entrance of the cave, and looked at the altitude of
the sun.

"It wants two hours to noon. In one hour we will start."

"Bueno!" replied Cocom, stolidly, "let us hope the hounds of
Ixtlilxochitli will not find us. Once we see the boat of the Señor
Americano, and we are safe, if not----"

Cocom shook his head to intimate he had grave doubts of what would be
their fate in such an event, and took another drink of aguardiente.
Jack knew that in returning Philip would keep the yacht close to the
shore, in order to avoid the war-ships of Xuarez, which generally kept
a long way to seaward. He, therefore, took up his station at the mouth
of the cave, and watched the northern horizon for the first trail of
smoke from the yacht's funnel.

As in most tropical countries, towards the middle of the day all sounds
of life ceased, and Nature took her siesta. In the hush, the three
people in the cave heard far away a wild cry. Cocom sprang to his feet,
and hurried to the entrance to lay his hand on Jack's arm.

"Ixtlilxochitli's hounds! Let us get away at once. Quick, Señor! We
will start now."

"And be safe," cried Jack, excitedly, pointing towards the horizon;
"yonder is the yacht!"

There was a speck on the horizon, but they had no time to look at it.
The cries of the Indians sounded nearer and nearer. Guided by Cocom,
they left the cave and rushed down a steep road to the beach. Hastily
selecting a large canoe, Cocom sprang in. Jack lifted Dolores over the
gunwale, and stepping in himself, pushed quickly off. Just as they got
her afloat, a crowd of Indians burst out of the woods, and made for the
beach. With keen eyes they had distinguished Cocom as the fugitive whom
they were after, and fearful of losing their prey, poured down in a
tumultuous mass. A shower of arrows fell around them, but luckily did
no damage, save one which grazed Jack's cheek. In another moment, they
were in deep water, paddling quickly from the shore.

The Indians at once seized the remaining boats, of which there were
about a dozen, and hurriedly embarked. Impelled by powerful arms, these
boats shot out after the fugitives with great rapidity. Jack turned his
head to look for the yacht. She was steaming southward with great
speed. With the strength of despair, Jack paddled, and so did Dolores.
Cocom was but little use with his mutilated hand, but stood up in the
bow cursing their pursuers fluently in the Indian tongue.

From the start, they had gained considerably on their pursuers, and
fortunately an accident happened, by which three of the canoes, coming
into collision, were overturned. The screams and cries of those
struggling in the water caused their comrades to pause, and during a
few minutes Jack succeeded in placing a longer distance between himself
and his pursuers. _The Bohemian_ was so near that he could see the
Union Jack flying at her masthead, the foam swirling from her bows.

With wild yells to encourage one another, the remaining canoes started
again; but, their folly in keeping close together in a mass, impeded
their own speed. A good distance stretched between the pursuers and
pursued. Cocom stood swearing fluently, Dolores prayed loudly in
Spanish, but Jack, with teeth set hard, paddled as though the devil
were after him. To lose all when within sight of safety, it would be
too terrible; and as he forced the boat along, he kept glancing over
his shoulder to look at the course of the yacht. She was standing
closer in to shore, and the canoe would cut across her trail in ten
minutes or thereabouts.

Those on board had evidently seen a boat was being chased by the
Indians, for the sound of a gun broke on their ears.

"Hurrah!" yelled Jack, joyfully. "Philip sees us. Come on, you cursed
wretches, I'll escape you yet."

Dolores flung down her paddle with a cry. She was completely worn out,
and could do no more. Jack did what he could, but the Indians rapidly
gained on them. A second gun announced that the yacht was close at
hand. So were the Indians now within bow shot. Already some were
fitting the arrows to the strings. An idea struck Jack which promised
to be their salvation.

"Dolores, the opal! the opal! Hold it up. They dare not fire then."

She caught his meaning at once, and as the nearest boat drew on, sprang
to her feet and held up the great gem. It flashed and sparkled in the
sun, and a cry of wonder burst from the lips of their pursuers. The
foremost warriors dropped their bows. They recognised the Chalchuih
Tlatonac, and superstition, stronger than anything else in their
natures, paralysed their arms.

"Señor, the boat!" cried Cocom, joyfully.

Jack turned his head. _The Bohemian_ was less, much less, than a
quarter of a mile away. Seeing this, the Indians, while forebearing to
shoot, made redoubled efforts to catch them before the yacht came up,
and thus recover the sacred gem. One boat came within two lengths, when
Jack, thinking to dodge and gain time, turned his light craft off to
the right. In another two minutes a ball ricochetted across the waves
and smashed the foremost boat to pieces. Awestruck at this unexpected
event, the others stopped paddling, and in a few minutes the canoe was
safe under the bows of the yacht. Philip, Peter, and Rafael were
looking over the side at the--as they thought--Indians.

"Philip! Philip!"

"Why! God! It's Jack!"

"Dolores! Take Dolores on board first," murmured Jack; then, overcome
by all he had passed through, fell back in a faint.




CHAPTER X.

FORTUNE TURNS HER WHEEL.

    Frown, Fortune, frown,
    For I am much cast down,
    And tears do melancholy make my face;
    In sable gown,
    With sad yew-wreath as crown,
    I rail at you,
    Oh, Fortune, most untrue,
    For that to me, you show not any grace;
    Oh, la! fa! la! la!
    My Lady Fortune, hear my sigh,
    Be kinder to my love and I.

    Smile, Fortune, smile,
    For I am gay awhile,
    And laughter lurks about these lips again;
    Now I beguile
    My days with cheerful wile,
    For from the throng,
    Of shepherds gay and strong,
    My love hath chosen me to be her swain;
    Oh, la! fa! la! la!
    My Lady Fortune hear my cry,
    How happy are my love and I.


"Baron Munchausen!" said Philip, addressing Jack, with mock solemnity,
"this story of thine passeth the comprehension of man. 'Tis a most rare
history, and, were I the Commander of the Faithful, I would have it
written in letters of gold on purple parchment."

It was some hours after their rescue by Philip, and _The Bohemian_
was just entering the harbour of Tlatonac. Dolores was sound asleep in
Peter's cabin; and Jack, now transformed to a civilised being, by
washing and clothing, was seated in the state-room, narrating his
adventures to an attentive audience of three. As for Cocom, he was
squatting on the floor with a cigarette in his mouth, grunting approval
of Jack's story--which he told in Spanish, for the benefit of Rafael,
and modestly receiving the encomiums lavished on him by the listeners.
Philip and Don Rafael frequently interrupted him with exclamations of
surprise; but Peter, less skilful in understanding the Castilian
tongue, had to keep his attention fixed on every word that fell from
Jack's lips. Under the tutorship of Doña Serafina, the little doctor
had made wonderful progress, and now understood the Spanish language
fairly well. It was at the conclusion of this most extraordinary story
that Philip addressed Jack as "Baron Munchausen."

"Por todos Santos!" exclaimed Rafael, admiringly, following Philip's
example, "it is wonderful. Mi amigo! I can never thank you sufficiently
for all you have done for my cousin. But, perchance," added the young
captain, with a twinkle in his eye, "Dolores has already thanked you
herself."

"Dolores will thank me when we arrive at Tlatonac," retorted Jack,
sipping his wine. "Our circumstances were too perilous, Rafael, to
admit of fine compliments."

"Don Miguel will be pleased!" remarked Peter, in fair Spanish.

"He will be more than pleased, Don Pedro," cried Rafael, seizing Jack's
hand. "My friend, for this you have done, I feel sure my father will
grant you the desire of your heart."

"Santissima! Let Dolores marry an Americano?"

"And why not, Señor? You have saved her life."

"Assuredly! But Cocom saved mine, Rafael!"

"For that Cocom shall pass the rest of his days in peace and comfort,"
said Philip, looking gratefully at the Indian.

Cocom shook his head with mournful composure.

"The days of Cocom are numbered, Señores. The Doña Dolores showed the
opal to the hounds of Ixtlilxochitli. By that they knew that the victim
of the cycle, that the guardian of the Chalchuih Tlatonac still live,
and have stolen the sacred stone. Cocom aided them to discover the
secret way, and Ixtlilxochitli will never forgive that betrayal. I am
lost, Señores. I shall die."

"Es verdad!" exclaimed Rafael, earnestly, "doubtless the Indians of
Totatzine will try and kill you, Cocom. But in Tlatonac, under the
protection of the opal flag, you are safe!"

"No, Señor Maraquando! I shall die," repeated Cocom, stolidly.

"Not you!" interposed Jack, patting the old man on the head. "I shall
look after you, my friend. You saved my life; I shall save yours. A
fair exchange! Hark! a gun!"

"It is from the fort," said Philip, hastily rising, "we are now in the
harbour. Come on deck, Jack. We shall be on shore in another twenty
minutes."

They at once went up, and Jack took off his hat with a reverential
expression, when he saw the silvery walls of Tlatonac once more glisten
over the blue waters.

"Thank God, who has preserved us through many perils!"

"Amen!" said Philip's deep voice, behind him "Oh, Jack," he added,
placing his hand on his friend's shoulder, with deep emotion, "if you
only knew what agonies we have undergone, thinking of your fate. When
we found you were missing, I wished to go back, at any risk, and headed
the yacht for the harbour of Acauhtzin. But that cursed Xuarez turned
his guns on us, and, as _The Bohemian_ would have been smashed to
pieces, we were forced to retreat. What a cur I felt then."

"You could not help it," said Jack, patting Philip's back, kindly. "In
an attempt to rescue me, you would only have lost your own lives."

"I did what I could, Jack. At once I came back to Tlatonac, and
implored Don Francisco to send an army to Acauhtzin to your rescue. But
it was impossible--the torpederas had not arrived, and there were only
some merchant-ships to take men north-ward. Defended, as Acauhtzin was,
by the war-ships, such an attempt would have been foolhardy. We were
forced to remain inactive at Tlatonac, not knowing if you were dead or
alive."

"And then the war broke out?"

"As I told you; Don Hypolito, with his war-ship, is now besieging
Janjalla. Tim, Garibay, General Gigedo, and half the army, are there
defending it. Tim wanted to remain and search for you; but I insisted
on his going, and told him I would take _The Bohemian_ up to Acauhtzin,
under the Union Jack, to make inquiries."

"It was lucky you did that," said Jack, with a grim smile, "or those
Indians would have killed or recaptured us for sure."

"We did not know it was you," interposed Peter, who had been
listening,--they were conversing in English. "I saw you first, and
thought it was only a canoe of Indians being chased by others. Philip
thought he would help the supposed Indians, and fired those guns."

"Peter nearly fainted when we saw who the Indians were," laughed
Philip, slipping his arm within that of Jack's. "However, 'all's well
that ends well;' and here you are, safe and sound with Dolores."

"And with the opal!"

"Good! I never thought you would have got that stone, Jack. Your luck
holds, old fellow. The possession of the opal will give confidence to
Tlatonac. Will it not, Rafael?"

"What say you, Señor Felipe?"

"The opal! Its possession will inspire confidence."

"Of a certainty, mi amigo. Our men will fight like devils, now they
know the fortune of the Chalchuih Tlatonac is on the side of the Junta.
In the same way, Don Hypolito's soldiers will lose heart."

"If they lose the war, that is all I care about. I would like to see
that fiend of a Xuarez punished," said Jack, savagely. "By the way,
Philip, I suppose you got no satisfaction at Acauhtzin this trip?"

"No; the forts opened fire, and would not let me enter the harbour.
Luckily, the war-ships were all south, as I knew, or we would have been
smashed up."

"The war-ships are bombarding Janjalla, you told me."

"Yes; we hope, however, that it will hold out till the torpederas go
south."

"Have they arrived?"

"Yonder."

Philip pointed to the left, and there, under the walls of the fort, lay
two long black objects, with stumpy black funnels. More than this, a
large ship of some two thousand five hundred tons was anchored close at
hand. Jack was astonished to see the change in the port since he had
last beheld Tlatonac. Then it was quiet and peaceful-looking, now, what
with ships and the two torpedo-boats, black wasps of the ocean, as they
were, lying under the walls, the walls themselves spotted with the
muzzles of heavy guns, the glitter of arms and uniforms outside the
sea-gate, and the blaring of distant trumpets, the roll of drums, the
aspect was of the most warlike character. He glanced at the
spiteful-looking torpedo-boats, and turning towards Philip, mutely
demanded an explanation.

"You see Cholacaca is in the thick of it," said the baronet, gaily.
"You have been away close on three weeks, and during that time neither
Don Hypolito nor the Junta have been idle. The former has sent his
troops and war-ships to Janjalla, and the latter is busy fixing up the
torpederas to have a fight with _The Pizarro_ and her consorts down
south."

"But that ship?"

"_The Iturbide_. She is a Cuban mail steamer requisitioned by the
Junta, and turned into an armed cruiser for this war. With her and the
torpederas, Don Hypolito's fleet won't have such a pleasant time as
they think."

"Does Don Rafael command _The Iturbide?_"

"I, mi amigo!" cried Rafael, overhearing this question. "Not I. Yonder
torpedo-boat is under my charge, and in that, Don Juan, you must come
with me."

"When do you go south?"

"The day after to-morrow. At the same time regiments march by land to
Gigedo, at Janjalla. Oh, the game has begun, Juan, and the opal burns
red!"

"It will now burn whatever colour we like," retorted Jack, shrugging
his shoulders. "I saw the way those priests managed the trick. It
was----"

"Tim can tell us all that in the patio of Casa Maraquando," interrupted
Philip, hastily. "See, the anchor is down, so we had better go ashore
at once, and relieve the minds of Don Miguel and the ladies."

"Cocom is already over the side," said Peter, pointing to a small canoe
skimming the waves. "You will receive an ovation on your way through
the city."

"Greatness is thrust upon me," laughed Jack, who was wonderfully
lighthearted now that they were safe, "Where is Doña Dolores?"

"Just coming on deck."

The girl still wore her Indian dress, as Philip, being a bachelor, had
no feminine gear on board. She had, however, washed the paint from her
face, and looked wonderfully bright and charming in her savage
toilette.

"Pocahontas!" said Philip, in Jack's ear, as she approached. "Lucky
man. I would I were Captain John Smith."

"What about Eulalia?"

"Oh, I can tell you about Eulalia," murmured Dr. Grench, a trifle
maliciously.

"You'll do nothing of the sort, Peter," said Philip, sharply. "I will
tell Jack all about it myself. You stick to your beetles and Doña
Serafina."

"Doña Serafina!" cried Dolores, overhearing the name. "Oh, Señor
Felipe, how I do wish to see my dear aunt."

"In a few minutes, Señorita. See, the boat is waiting. We will all go
on shore at once."

"There seems to be a row on shore," remarked Jack, as they climbed down
the side of the yacht.

"Dios!" exclaimed Rafael, laughing. "Cocom has told them all. The news
is passing from mouth to mouth. Soon it will be all over the city.
Harken to the cries, mis amigos."

"Vive el Americano! El opalo! Dios lo pague, Doña Dolores!"

"A shout for one, a shout for all," observed Jack, philosophically.
"They should also shout, 'God reward Cocom!' for without Him we would
not be here."

They were welcomed on shore by a frantic crowd. The Cholacacans have
all the vivacity and impulsiveness of southern nature. Nothing do they
love so much as a public demonstration; therefore, on this occasion
they gave full rein to their enthusiasm. In their eyes, Jack was a
hero, Dolores a heroine, and, accordingly, they were almost stunned
with vociferous applause. The fact that the opal, that sacred gem, so
inextricably interwoven with the traditions of the Republic, was now in
the city itself, wrought them up to a pitch of frenzy. With the
Chalchuih Tlatonac in their midst, they could not fail to conquer the
rebels; it was the palladium of the Republic, the genius of Tlatonac,
and by it would they be enabled to overwhelm their enemies. The
superstitious belief they had in the jewel was almost terrible. It
glittered on the banners of Cholacaca, it coloured the whole patriotic
feelings of the inhabitants. The opal meant victory to its possessors,
and, lo! they held it safely in the capital.

Up to the sea-gate the lovers passed, surrounded by their friends. On
either side the vast crowd heaved like a great sea. Constant cries
saluted Jack, Dolores, the opal; and to show the public that Cocom had
spoken truly, Duval whispered a few words to his companion. In a moment
she had drawn forth the gem from her breast, and held it up in full
sight of the populace. The tumult sank to a dead stillness, as if by
magic, and everyone drew a deep breath of awe and admiration as the
splendid jewel flashed its lightnings in the sun. A crimson beam flared
forth, owing to the position in which it was held by Dolores. It burned
in her fingers like a red-hot coal. The crowd, in their superstition,
took it as a sign from heaven, and burst out into frenzied cries.

"Guerra! Guerra! El opalo! Guerra! Abajo los rebeledes!"

Then some excited person began chanting the national song of the opal.
In a moment the mob caught at the idea, and the great body of sound
thundered to the sky.

    Kneel at the shrine while the future discerning,
      See how the crimson ray strengthens and glows;
    Red as the sunset the opal is burning,
      Red is prophetic of death to our foes.

"I feel like a victorious general," said Jack, smiling at all this
enthusiasm.

"What a pity Tim isn't here," remarked Peter, whose usually meek eyes
were flashing like stars behind his spectacles; "he does so like a
row."

"He'll be having plenty where he is," said Philip, grimly; "but look at
that fellow going to do the Raleigh business with his zarape."

By this time they had passed into the Calle Otumba, and a frantic young
Spaniard, rushing forward, flung his cloak on the ground for Dolores to
walk across. The idea pleased the people, and in a few moments the
whole way up to the Casa Maraquando was spread with zarapes. Then
flowers were flung before them in profusion.

"The primrose path of dalliance," quoth Philip, laughing. "I hope these
excited people won't throw their bodies next for us to walk over. Don't
be afraid, Doña Dolores. You have your guard of honour to protect you."

Indeed, this frenzied demonstration rather scared the girl. All the
colour faded out of her face, and slipping the opal into her bosom, she
shrank terrified against her lover. Jack took her arm within his own
and his touch gave her more confidence; but what with the singing,
shouting, cloak-flinging, flower throwing, and what not, they both felt
quite worn out, and were not at all sorry to at length arrive at the
door of the Casa Maraquando.

The news of their arrival had preceded them, as a matter of course, and
Don Miguel, with outstretched arms, was waiting in the gateway to
receive them. Dolores, with a cry of delight, flung herself on the
breast of her uncle, who at once carried her into the patio. Then the
rest of the party followed, and the doors were shut against the mob,
which still remained in the street, terribly excited. After a time, the
tumult quietened down like a sea after a storm, and the throng streamed
into the Plaza de los Hombres Ilustres to organise a demonstration to
the honour and glory of the Chalchuih Tlatonac and its guardian.

In the patio, Dolores was received with noisy demonstrations by Doña
Serafina, and with joyful tears by Eulalia. It was some time, however,
before Don Miguel could part from his niece, for he held her to his
breast, calling upon all the saints to shower blessings on her head.
Never had the stately Spaniard been so moved, and when he delivered his
niece over to the tender embraces of Serafina and Eulalia, he turned
towards Jack, with tears in his eyes.

"Señor Juan," he said, in a voice of emotion, grasping the young man's
hand, "I can never repay you for what you have done. From this moment
you may command the services, and the lives of myself and those dear to
me."

He could say no more, but, with a wave of his hand, walked to the other
end of the court to conceal his emotion. Jack was scarcely less moved,
and as for Dolores, she was being overwhelmed by her cousin and aunt.

"Dear one," chattered the old lady, noisily; "now that thou art safe, I
vow twenty candles to the Virgin, who has thus watched over thee, and
to San Juan, who is the patron saint of your preserver."

"I, also!" cried Eulalia, who had in some mysterious way become
possessed of the history. "I vow a jewel to San Felipe, for it was his
namesake who preserved them from the Indians."

Jack and Philip were much gratified by these marks of attention; but
Peter, being left out in the cold, was inclined to be cross.

"They might vow a candle or so to San Pedro," he grumbled, "seeing the
whole Church of Rome is under his care."

"Offer him some beetles, Peter," said Jack, in the little doctor's ear;
but the suggestion was not received favourably by the entomologist.

Having wept and cried over Dolores to their hearts' content, the ladies
proceeded to lead her away to resume her own dress; but before doing
so, both aunt and niece flung themselves on Jack's neck, and embraced
him with fervour. Duval did not mind a kiss from Eulalia, but he
objected to the aunt. Nevertheless, as he had to take the bitter with
the sweet, he passively submitted to be made much of.

"Caro, Señor! You are an angel from heaven," cried Serafina, with
fervour.

"As valiant as the Cid," said Eulalia, kissing Jack's bronzed cheek.

"We will pray for you to the saints."

"Your face shall be in my soul!"

This last remark came from Eulalia, whereat Philip winced. Seeing this,
Jack brought the duet to a speedy end.

"I am your servant, Señoritas! What I have done is nothing, and thanks
are rather due to Cocom than to me."

"But without you, Don Juan, Cocom could not have saved Dolores."

"And without the boat of Señor Felipe," added Eulalia, glancing at the
baronet, "none of the three would be here."

Philip made a polite gesture of dissent, though in his heart he was
glad that Eulalia inclined so kindly towards him. Then Jack kissed the
hands of the ladies in a most gallant fashion, and they, after removing
Dolores once more from the arms of Don Miguel, whither she had flown,
led her out of the patio. This being done, while waiting for the
evening meal, Don Miguel demanded from Jack an account of his
adventures, a request which was at once seconded by Philip, Rafael, and
Peter, who protested that they could listen to a dozen repetitions of
his hairbreadth escapes. Thus adjured, Jack, with as much suppression
of himself as possible, narrated the events which had taken place from
the earliest period of his capture by Xuarez down to the present time
when he was rescued by Philip. Frequently the story was interrupted by
ejaculations from his auditors, and by the time the story was finished
they were all furious with Don Hypolito, particularly Señor Maraquando.

"To think, Señor," he cried, indignantly, "that I have touched the hand
of that man. Carambo! To give up a white man to the cursed altar of
Huitzilopochtli. It is infamous! It is unheard of!"

"But you forget, Señor, he is a pure-blooded Indian."

"I ever thought so," said Rafael, sagely. "There were many ways about
Xuarez, my father, that were not those of a Spaniard."

"Indian or no Indian," growled Philip, clenching his fist, "if I get
within striking distance of the scoundrel, I won't leave a whole bone
in his body."

"Nor will I," said the meek Peter, fiercely, "fancy him wanting to lay
Jack out on a jasper stone like a corpse on a dissecting-table."

"Be quiet, you Chamber of Horrors," said the baronet, angrily, "don't
mention such a thing."

"There is one great good gained out of much evil," observed Don Miguel,
reflectively; "the possession of the opal strengthens us greatly
against Xuarez."

"How so?" asked Philip, curiously.

"Because this priest, Ixtlilxochitli, will not be able to manage the
Indians for him without the stone."

"I am afraid, Señor, the mischief is done," said Jack, gravely, "the
opal declared war, and now the Indians will join Don Hypolito."

"It's a pity we can't get up a counter prophecy, and make the opal
declare peace," remarked Philip, quietly; "then the Indians would take
no part in the war."

"I fancy that is impossible," said Miguel, shaking his head. "I would
it could be so. If the Indians would only keep quiet, Xuarez would find
great difficulty in accomplishing his plans. Should Janjalla fall, and
Xuarez concentrate his own men and the Indians before Tlatonac, it will
be hard to beat them back."

"Janjalla will not fall," cried Rafael, in a fiery tone; "there are
brave men defending it. They will hold out till reinforced. The
regiments march southward to-morrow, the torpederas and _The Iturbide_
go the next day; and between the two we shall conquer these rebels."

"We will try, at all events, my son," said Maraquando, smiling at the
young man's enthusiasm; "but, meanwhile, it is best to look on both
sides of the question."

"With the opal stone in Tlatonac, we cannot fail," declared Jack. "You
have seen it, Señor Maraquando?"

"Not yet. Dolores was too agitated to show it to me."

"Here is my cousin," said Rafael, rising to his feet. "She brings the
opal with her."

Before he finished the sentence, Dolores, now arrayed in her European
dress, entered the patio, followed by Doña Serafina and Eulalia
uttering cries of admiration. In her hand she carried the Harlequin
Opal, which glittered faintly in the dim light.

"See, uncle!" cried Dolores, placing the gem in Maraquando's hand, "I
give you the luck of Tlatonac."

"So this is the famous stone?" said Miguel, gazing at the wonderful
play of colours, "I do not wonder it is held sacred. So beautiful a
jewel I have never yet beheld."

"There, Señor Maraquando, I disagree with you," observed Jack, in a
nervous voice; "there is a jewel still more beautiful in my
eyes--Dolores!"

Don Miguel started and stared in amazement at the young couple, who
were now standing hand in hand before him. He could not understand the
meaning of either the attitude or speech.

"My brother," whispered Serafina, seizing the situation with feminine
quickness, "it is love!"

"Yes," said Jack, firmly, "it is love. I have worshipped your niece
these many months, Señor Maraquando, but I dared not to tell you of
that love, seeing I was an Englishman, a heretic. Now, however, if I
have done anything to deserve your gratitude, I ask you, in the
presence of my friends, to give your consent to the marriage of Dolores
and myself."

Don Miguel was silent for a few moments, and then turned slowly towards
his niece.

"Do you love Don Juan, Dolores?"

She raised her head and looked not at her questioner, but at Jack.

"Yes," she replied simply, "I have loved him this long time."

"Señor," said Maraquando, with great dignity, "it is true you are not
of our race; but during the time I have known you I have seen nothing
in you but what I admire and respect. In rescuing my niece from the
Shrine of the Opal at Totatzine, you have acted like a chivalrous
gentleman. To your marriage I gladly give my consent. Take Dolores as
your wife, Señor, and with her this."

He held out for Jack's acceptance the Harlequin Opal.




CHAPTER XI.

AWAY TO THE FRONT.

    One kiss! 'tis our last one; the horses await,
    And swift through the midnight I ride to my fate.
    'Tis life for thy lover, or death it may be,
    But living or dying, my thought is for thee.
    Who knows when my arms shall enfold thee again
    The future hides ever its joy and its pain.
    I leave thee for battle, my dear one, my bride,
    And on, through the darkness, I ride, and I ride.

    Light hand on the bridle, light heart in my breast,
    A bunch of your ribbons flaunt gay on my crest.
    I go not in sorrow, but hasten with glee,
    To fight for my country, my honour, and thee.
    Soon wilt thou in triumph behold me, my sweet,
    Return with my laurels to cast at thy feet.
    I dream of a future with thee by my side,
    As on, through the darkness, I ride, and I ride.


Jack's position was now similar to that of Tantalus. Love was within
his reach, yet he dared not to grasp it, for on the next day he was to
depart with Don Rafael for Janjalla, in the torpedera _Montezuma_.
Peter had also been invited to visit the seat of war, and although a
man of peace, decided to go, as he was anxious about Tim. That
redoubtable warrior was at Janjalla, with General Gigedo, busily
engaged in wiring sensational accounts of the siege to _The Morning
Planet_. Tim was particularly anxious that Janjalla should not fall
into the hands of Don Hypolito, as it was the spot whence started the
telegraph-wires for the south. If Xuarez captured the town, the forces
of the Junta would be driven back to Tlatonac, and as likely as not the
wires would be cut by the rebels, therefore Tim would be unable to
transmit news to England. As it was, he made good use of his time, and
took full possession of the telegraph-office in Janjalla.

As to Philip, he decided to march by land with the Regimiento de los
Caballeros, of which corps he was now an officer. Colonel Garibay,
the commander of the regiment, was already at Janjalla, having been
sent there by President Gomez on a special message to General Gigedo.
The regiment was, therefore, under the command of Captain Velez, who
was a great admirer of Philip, and made much of him. Altogether
reinforcements amounting to close on a thousand men were now on their
way south, to assist General Gigedo in holding Janjalla, and the
torpederas, in company with the armed cruiser _Iturbide_, were to
proceed there by sea, in order to destroy, if possible, the three ships
of the enemy now bombarding the town.

There was no doubt that the war had begun badly for the Junta, but this
was the fault of President Gomez. A more obstinate man never existed,
and having made up his mind that Xuarez would attack Tlatonac without
delay, he had foolishly withdrawn the garrison from Janjalla, Puebla de
los Naranjos, Chichimec, and other towns, for the protection of the
capital. It was in vain that Don Miguel, warned by his son, represented
that it was more than probable Xuarez would attack Janjalla first, in
order to concentrate his troops in the south, and so march them across
the plains to Tlatonac. The President refused to take this view of the
matter, and by the withdrawal of the garrisons, left the whole of
Southern Cholacaca in an unprotected condition.

The effect of this policy was most disastrous. Warned by his spies that
but a feeble defence could be offered by Janjalla, Don Hypolito sent
southward, without delay, transports filled with troops, and a convoy
of the three war-ships. He hoped to capture and garrison Janjalla with
his own men before the Junta became aware of his design, and thus
secure an important town as the basis of his operations. At Acauhtzin
he was hemmed in by mountains, unable to march his troops overland to
the capital; but in the south, between Janjalla and Tlatonac were vast
alluvial plains, over which he could lead his army. It was his
intention to effect a conjunction with the Forest Indians before the
walls of the Opal City, and having ordered his war-ships to bombard it
by sea, thus attack the capital on two sides at once. Between two
fires, he deemed that the city would speedily yield.

Becoming aware that the war-ships had gone south, Don Francisco
speedily saw how foolishly he had acted, and ordered five hundred men
to at once proceed to Janjalla, to defend it against the rebels. He
sent back the troops to garrison the inland towns, and thus hoped to
stretch a barrier between the rebels and the capital. The whole danger
lay in the south, for as yet the Indians were quiet, and no rising was
apprehended on their part, though Jack was doubtful as to the
advisability of trusting to appearances. He quite believed that the
campaign would be conducted by Xuarez, as had been prophesied by Don
Rafael, and could not help deploring that such an incompetent man as
Gomez was at the head of affairs.

"If he would only leave things alone, and not interfere," he said to
Philip, on the eve of departure. "His generals know more about warfare
than he does. The man's an ass."

"I'm with you there," replied Philip, heartily; "he has made a muddle
of things already. Who but an ass would send only five hundred men to
Janjalla, when it is about to be bombarded by three men-of-war, and
attacked by two thousand rebel troops? Even this reinforcement is not
strong enough. Sending his troops southward in these dribblets will end
in their being cut to pieces. I would not be surprised if even now
Xuarez was in possession of Janjalla, and, with such a basis for
operations, he will make it hot for the Republic."

"What do you think ought to have been done?"

"I was speaking to Colonel Garibay, and we both came to the same
conclusion. Don Francisco ought to have taken the warning of Rafael,
and concentrated most of the troops at Janjalla. The capital is well
defended by its forts, and can look after itself. Janjalla, on the
other hand, is in no fit state of defence to resist the heavy guns of
three ships pounding at its walls. As I take it, the great aim should
be to prevent Don Hypolito from getting a footing in the south by
capturing Janjalla. Then he would have nothing but the sea and
Acauhtzin for a field of operations. In the north, owing to the
mountains, he can do nothing, and now we have the torpederas, he cannot
have it all his own way at sea."

"Well, and supposing he captures Janjalla?"

Philip shrugged his shoulders.

"The result is plain enough. Instead of mountains between this and
Tlatonac, he has nothing but plains on which he can manoeuvre his
troops. He will either capture the intervening towns or seduce them to
his cause. Then he will arrive at Tlatonac, and while he is besieging
it from the inland, his fleet will bombard it from the sea."

"That is if the torpederas don't sink his ships."

"Of course! I am talking of the campaign from Don Hypolito's point of
view. But one thing is certain. If he captures Janjalla, this war may
be prolonged for months. Think of the ruin that will mean to the
country."

Philip spoke truly. Hitherto Cholacaca had enjoyed immunity from the
horrors of war. From the year 1840, when under the leadership of
Zuloaga, the Republic had thrown off the yoke of Spain, there had been
peace for a period of forty-five years. Those fratricidal wars which
constantly convulsed the communities of South America were not to be
found in the history of Cholacaca. The Republic kept well within her
borders, was at peace with her neighbours, and under the rule of wise
rulers, devoted herself to improving her material condition.

It was true that a greater part of the country consisted of wild
forests filled with unconquered Indians, but the Cholacacans had always
been able to keep these savages at bay. The coast-line of the north,
the immense alluvial plains of the south, were thoroughly civilised,
and covered with thriving towns. The two secondary capitals, Janjalla
in the south, Acauhtzin in the north, looked up to and respected their
powerful sister city, Tlatonac, who held her seat in the central
portion of the sea-board. Yet it must be admitted that they bore a
grudge against her, as nearly all the commerce of the country poured
into her walls, from thence to be distributed over the civilised world.
Why should Tlatonac be the capital when they were each equally suited
for the post? They had rich countries behind them, they exported goods
far and wide, they had their municipal institutions, their walls,
ramparts, palaces, and magnificent churches. Why, therefore, should
they be forced to send their ships to the port of Tlatonac, there to
pay toll and custom duties? The Junta had constituted Tlatonac the
starting-point of all vessels, and according to law, ships from the
north and south were forced, both in going and coming, to report
themselves at the capital. By this means Tlatonac dominated her sister
cities, and held them firmly under her thumb.

The reason that Tlatonac was chosen to be the capital by Zuloaga was
very plain. It was situated in the centre of the coast-line, and thus
commanded equally the north and the south. It had been the shrine of
the opal, and the traditions of that stone closely interwoven with the
history of the country. Greatest reason of all, the harbour was the
finest in Cholacaca. Moreover, roads from most of the inland towns
diverged to the capital, thus rendering communication easy; while
Janjalla, environed by swamps, and Acauhtzin girdled by forests, were
more or less shut off from the heart of the country. When inland
traders could transport their goods to Tlatonac at half the cost they
could take them to either of the other two towns, it was not likely,
from a commercial point of view, that they would ever forsake the
capital. Under the circumstances, it can well be seen that Gomez had
good reason to doubt the fidelity of Janjalla. The northern town had,
through jealousy of Tlatonac, sided with the rebels, and it was just
possible that the southern city might follow suit. The only thing in
favour of Janjalla remaining faithful was that while both towns were
jealous of the capital, they were equally jealous of one another. The
populace of Janjalla knew well that if Xuarez conquered that he would
transfer the seat of Government to Acauhtzin out of gratitude for its
help, and would certainly not assist a cause calculated to elevate a
rival city.

The Republic was very wealthy. She exported tobacco, coffee, cacao,
cotton, rice, maize, and cattle. Her plains were covered with grain,
her mountains were rich in ores, and her population extremely
industrious. With the exception of the area covered by the forests, the
whole country was cultivated, and now the formation of a railway
through the forests, up to Acauhtzin promised the opening up of the
northern lands. Already fifty miles of railway had pierced the enormous
belt of timber lying between Acauhtzin and the capital. From the main
line, branches were to extend to the different towns, so as to connect
them with the seat of Government. Unfortunately, all this promise of
prosperity was now interrupted by the war.

There was no doubt that Don Hypolito was a source of infinite trouble
to the country. This Indian coming from the sacred city of Totatzine,
was now revenging himself on the descendants of the Conquistadores, for
their treatment of his ancestors. He had no genuine cause for
dissatisfaction, as at the time when he raised the standard of revolt,
the country was thoroughly prosperous. The wealth gained by the exports
of the Republic was used by her Presidents to open up the interior of
the continent, and to supply Tlatonac with all the refinements of
civilisation. The army was well drilled, well clothed, well armed. The
walls of the city were built on the most approved system of engineering
science, the principal squares were lighted by electricity, millions
had been expended on drainage, in the formation of interior roads, in
the construction of the proposed railway to Acauhtzin. The Republic had
even formed the nucleus of a navy, and had already three war-ships in
hand, and two torpederas coming, when the war broke out.

Now the war-ships had revolted to Xuarez, the northern capital was
bound to his cause, and this ambitious Indian, assuming the name and
race of a Spaniard, had plunged the country into what promised to be a
disastrous war. The effect was ruinous. Business was at a standstill,
exports were stopped, the capital was declared in a state of siege, and
the whole country resounded with the tramp of armies, the clash of
arms, the thunder of cannon. Industry was paralysed, and many of the
country-people crowding to the capital, rendered food dear. To avoid
the horrors of famine and ruin which threatened the Republic, it was
absolutely necessary that Xuarez should be crushed at once.

President Gomez was no warrior certainly, but he was a judicious
ruler--in time of peace. He saw at once the terrible calamities likely
to ensue should the war be prolonged, and already regretted his folly
in not taking the advice of Don Miguel. So far as was possible, he
repaired his mistakes. A thousand men were sent to the relief of
Janjalla by land, and _The Iturbide_, in company with the torpederas,
left for the seat of war by sea. If the reinforcements could succour
Janjalla in time, if the torpederas could sink the rebel ships, then
there would be some hope of the war being brought to a speedy
conclusion. But as it was, the whole danger lay in the probability of
Don Hypolito capturing Janjalla, from whence he could threaten the
capital and intervening towns.

Jack was very anxious that Philip should come with him in _The
Montezuma_, but the baronet was obstinately set on going with his
regiment.

"I shall be in Janjalla before you, Jack; for between you and the town
lie the war-ships, while we have but to march across those easy plains
in safety."

"Yes, if the Indians don't stop you."

"Nonsense; there is no chance of that."

"I am not so certain, Philip. Don Hypolito has his spies, as you know;
and when he hears that reinforcements are advancing southward, he will
probably send word to Ixtlilxochitli to have them intercepted. As you
know, the plains are fringed to the west by the forests, so the Indians
could break out from thence, and perhaps exterminate the troops."

"What! exterminate a thousand soldiers, armed with rifles? Impossible!"

"Well, it does seem impossible. However, as you won't come with me, go
as you please. We shall meet at Janjalla."

"Of course. I shall see you from the walls being chased, by _The
Pizarro_ and _The Cortes_."

They were talking in the patio of the Casa Maraquando, and Philip was
tricked out in all the bravery of his uniform. He looked remarkably
handsome and Eulalia sighed as she thought he was about to leave her.
All coquetry had been laid aside, and she had confessed that she was
deeply in love with the Americano. Philip fully returned her affection,
and intended, on returning from Janjalla, to ask Don Miguel to permit
them to be married on the same day as Jack and Dolores. Turning away
from Jack, he caught sight of Eulalia's pensive face, and heard her
plaintive little sigh. In an instant he was by her side.

"Querida," he whispered tenderly, "you must not be sad. I go forth to
bring home laurels to lay at your feet."

"I would rather you were at my feet, Felipe," sobbed Eulalia. "This
horrid war! I am sure you will be killed, and then I shall die. Oh yes,
mi alma, I shall assuredly die."

They were standing in a secluded corner of the patio. Neither Don
Miguel or Serafina were in sight, so Philip, taking advantage of the
situation, kissed Eulalia once, twice, thrice. It was true Jack and
Dolores were not far off, but they were too busy with each other to
take much notice. Eulalia sobbed on Philip's breast, vowed she would
die if he left her, told him to march forth and be a hero at once,
commanded him to remain at Tlatonac, ordered him to depart for
Janjalla, and thus contradicting herself every moment, smiled and wept
in turns. Finally, she produced a little gold cross.

"This is for thee, my own one," she whispered slipping it into his
hand. "It has been blessed by Padre Ignatius. Nought can hurt thee
while the sacred thing is on thy heart."

Philip kissed the cross, kissed Eulalia, and swore he would never part
with it throughout the campaign. In the middle of their tender
leave-taking, a trumpet pealed forth in the Plaza de los Hombres
Ilustres. It was the signal for departure.

"I must go! Farewell, my dear one. Watch from the azotea, and let your
face be the last thing I behold in Tlatonac."

"Adios, mi alma," murmured Eulalia, and embraced him fondly, after
which, Philip, turning hastily away, shook hands with Jack, and kissed
the hands of Dolores and Serafina, the latter of whom had just entered
the patio.

"Adieu, dear ladies. Good-bye, Jack. Take care of yourself, and don't
be carried off to any more Indian cities. We meet at Philippi. Adios!"

With a wave of his hand he was gone, and Jack escorted the ladies to
the azotea to watch the regiments departing. The Plaza was crowded with
soldiers and women, the latter taking tearful leave of those marching
to the front. President Gomez, attended by a brilliant staff, among
whom Jack saw Don Miguel and his son, made a speech full of fire and
patriotism, which caused the utmost enthusiasm. Then the banners of the
different regiments were unfurled, the bands began to play the March of
Zuloaga, and the soldiers began to file out of the square by the Calle
Otumba.

Regiment after regiment marched past, through streets wreathed with
flowers, amid tears, cheers, and wavings of handkerchiefs. The
house-tops were crowded with ladies looking down on the troops. They
made a gallant show as they tramped along with waving plumes and
glittering arms. The cavalry soldiers came first, and those on the
azotea of the Casa Maraquando saw Sir Philip riding by the side of
Captain Velez, at the head of the Regimiento de los Caballeros. The
banners streamed in the air, the horses champed their bits, and proudly
pawed the earth, and, one vast rainbow of hues, this splendid body of
men moved majestically past. Philip was riding with his drawn sword
sloping over his shoulder, and as he passed the Casa Maraquando, looked
up, and saluted the ladies. Eulalia hastily snatching a bunch of
jasmine from her breast, let it drop when he was directly underneath.
The baronet dexterously caught it, and pressing a kiss on the blossoms,
fastened them in his jacket. In another minute or so, he disappeared
round the corner of the street on the way to the Puerta de la Culebra,
from whence the troops marched southward to Janjalla.

After the disappearance of Philip, Eulalia took no further interest in
the proceedings of the day, and retired to her room, followed by
Dolores, who strove to console her. Jack not caring for the sole
companionship of Doña Serafina, excused himself on the plea that he
wanted to ride after the troops and give Philip a message to Tim. Doña
Serafina graciously permitted him to depart, and he dashed out of the
house, flung himself on his horse, which was waiting at the door, and
was about to ride towards the Puerta de la Culebra when Don Rafael came
riding at full speed out of the Plaza! The young man seemed much
excited, and in his headlong rush knocked down two or three people, so
crowded was the street. Never heeding their cries, he raced past Jack,
waving his hand.

"To _The Montezuma_, mi amigo! News of the war-ships."

Anxious to know what fresh event had taken place, and fearful that
Janjalla had fallen, Jack spurred his horse after Rafael, and at a
break-neck speed they clattered down the street to the sea-gate
scattering the crowd in every direction.

Outside the sea-gate, Rafael headed to the left, where the torpedera
_Montezuma_ was lying, and jumping off his horse, threw the reins
to a peon, and called a boat. Jack followed his example, and in a few
moments they were pulling for the torpedo-vessel.

"Carambo mi amigo!" said Jack, breathlessly, "you ride like the devil.
What is the matter now?"

"His Excellency has just received news that two of the war-ships have
returned to Acauhtzin."

"What! Have they given up the siege?"

"No. They are acting as convoy to the transports. Xuarez is sending
more troops south, and, knowing that our torpederas are not ready,
thinks that _The Pizarro_, single-handed, is sufficient to blockade
Janjalla."

"Then he has landed his other troops?" said Jack, as they sprang on
board _The Montezuma_. "The ship guns have evidently silenced the
forts, and permitted the rebels to get on shore."

"Precisely! But what matter? Reinforcements are now on their way by
land, and we, my friend, will start to-morrow by sea to smash up _The
Pizarro_."

"Will the torpederas be ready?"

"They must be ready!" cried Rafael, stamping his foot. "We may never
get such another chance. If we can only sink _The Pizarro_, it will
dishearten the troops of Xuarez now besieging Janjalla, and they can be
easily defeated."

"If we can manage that, it will be a sad blow to Don Hypolito!"

"Dios! so I should think," replied Rafael, laughing gaily. "He will
come south with more troops, and find Janjalla occupied by us, and his
way barred by two torpederas and _The Iturbide_. Then _The Pizarro's_
loss won't please him. Carajo! no."

"Bueno! But you forget _The Pizarro_ has search-lights,
torpedo-netting----"

"Not the last, mi amigo!" interrupted Rafael quickly. "I told you
before, the netting was left behind in Tlatonac when the war-ships left
for Acauhtzin. As to the search-lights, she can keep them on _The
Iturbide_ or on the other torpedera. Then, my friend, _The Montezuma_
will make things unpleasant for her."

"It's a mere chance, Rafael!"

"Quien sabe!" retorted the young man, shrugging his shoulders; "all
warfare is mere chance. Come and look over the boat."

As the fittings of the torpederas were somewhat complicated, engineers
had been sent out from England in charge, and these, being paid heavily
by the Junta, remained to manoeuvre the boats. Among them Jack
discovered a Scotchman, from Aberdeen, with whom he struck up a
friendship. This gentleman, whose clan was Mackenzie, showed them all
over the boat, and spoke in terms of great affection of the Whitehead
torpedoes.

"Eh, mon!" he observed to Jack, as they surveyed those triumphs of
modern warfare, "jouist gie her a shove, an' she'll smash the hail
boatie to bits--into sma' bits."

"That is if the ship you propose to smash doesn't bring her heavy guns
to bear on this boat."

"Hoots! hoots! mon. _The Montyzumy_ can gang her ain gait. Nineteen
knots an hour! Ma certie, it wud tack a braw gun to catch the likes o'
her."

When they returned on deck from their inspection of the ship, a note
was brought to Rafael, from Captain Pedraza, of _The Iturbide_,
requesting his presence on board. They dropped into a boat, and were
speedily clambering up the giant sides of the cruiser. Being conducted
to the state-room, they found Captain Pedraza, surrounded by his
officers, reading a message from the President.

"Ola mis amigos!" cried the captain, gaily, "you are just in time.
Señor Juan, I am your servant. Don Rafael, we leave Tlatonac for
Janjalla to-morrow afternoon."

"Why in the afternoon?"

"Carambo. So as to reach Janjalla at night. _The Pizarro_ is lying
there in the harbour, and, under cover of darkness, we may be able to
sink her either with our guns or by means of torpedoes."

"Will the torpederas be ready?" asked Jack, for the second time.

"You may be certain of that," said Rafael, significantly. "I will
guarantee that _The Montezuma_ will be able to start at the appointed
time."

"And I can say the same of _The Zuloaga_," observed a slim man, in
whom Jack recognised the commander of the other torpedo-boat. "I think,
Señor, it can be looked on as certain that all three can depart."

After this a babel of talk ensued concerning the chances of surprising
_The Pizarro_. Some proposed one place, some another, and amid all
the excitement, Jack, growing weary of the arguing, slipped out of the
saloon, and went ashore, so as to have as much time as possible with
Dolores before departure.

He strolled along the sea-shore, and met Cocom just outside the
sea-gate. The old man saluted him gravely--

"Señor," he said, mysteriously approaching Jack; "beware of
Ixtlilxochitli."

"What do you mean, Cocom?" asked Duval, rather startled.

"The Indians, Señor, are now on the war-path--to the south," added
Cocom, significantly.

"Great Heaven!" ejaculated the young man, horror-struck. "They intend
to surprise the reinforcements."

"That is so, Señor. But I, Cocom, have sent runners after them to warn
the Señors."

"Bueno! Cocom, you are the safeguard of Cholacaca!"

"Not I, Señor; but the Chalchuih Tlatonac!"

"Oh, I haven't much belief in that."

"Don Juan!" said Cocom, significantly; "the Indians obeyed the stone
implicitly--it is sacred. What it speaks they do. Red is burned and war
was proclaimed. But, Señor, if it flamed blue, then would the Indians
be at peace."

Before Jack could say a word, Cocom mysteriously slipped away, leaving
the young man sorely puzzled as to his meaning.

"That confounded opal," he said, as he resumed his way towards the Casa
Maraquando, "it meets one at every turn. They say opals are unlucky,
and certainly the Chalchuih Tlatonac has not brought much luck to us as
yet."




CHAPTER XII.

A NAVAL ENGAGEMENT--NEW STYLE.

    "Wot! fightin'?" said the sailor man to me
    (He was wooden-legged and close on eighty-three).
    "Why, bless 'ee, sir, who knows what fightin' are,
    When iron pots is classed as men-of-war,
    And kittles sail the sea without a spar?
    Such wessels were not seen at Trafalgar."

    "Old Nelson!" said the sailor man to me
    (He was lying like a hatter, I could see).
    "I was with him when the Frenchies' line we broke,
    With our wooden ships and sailors' hearts of oak,
    And the great three-decker's cannon's voice awoke,
    Every minute as they thundered thro' the smoke."

    "Oh, blow it!" said the sailor man to me
    (His language, I admit, was rather free),
    "Now you sends a black torpedo, and it seeks
    To hit a wessel sideways--then she leaks,
    And sinks while every sailor prays and shrieks,
    Wot fightin'--why, it's murder! yah! the sneaks."


On leaving Cocom, Jack at once went to Don Miguel and informed him of
the Indian rising. Maraquando thought but little of the affair, as it
was unlikely unarmed savages would dare to attack a force of one
thousand soldiers. Besides, the journey to Janjalla was through a
civilised and cultivated country, and an Indian raid was improbable.
Nevertheless, at Jack's urgent request, he spoke to President Gomez
about the matter, and though his Excellency took the same view as did
Maraquando, yet he sent on messengers to overtake the reinforcements
and inform them of their possible danger.

The next day at three o'clock the vessels were to leave for Janjalla,
but when the hour came it was found that the torpederas were far from
ready. It is true _The Iturbide_ was in a state of efficiency, and
could have left Tlatonac at the appointed time, but the complicated
engines of _The Montezuma_ and _The Zuloaga_ were somewhat out of gear.
Though the engineers worked day and night to get everything in order,
yet it was not until three days had elapsed that the squadron was ready
to start. This delay made Rafael feel very uneasy lest the consorts of
_The Pizarro_ should return south before they could sink her by the
torpedoes. He reckoned out the matter with Jack.

"Dios, mi amigo! Three days have gone since _The Cortes_ and _The
Columbus_ passed Tlatonac with the transports to the north. It is three
hundred miles to Acauhtzin, and those boats steam at the rate of twelve
knots an hour----"

"True," interrupted Jack, significantly; "but the transports do not."

"That is so, Juan. Let us reckon accordingly. Steaming at the rate of
twelve knots, the war-ships would probably reach Acauhtzin in
twenty-five hours. Allowing for the slowness of the transports say
thirty hours. In twenty-four hours they will be able to take in troops,
provisions, horses and guns. That makes fifty-four hours. Steaming
south to Tlatonac thirty hours. Eighty-four hours. To Janjalla from
here it is a hundred miles--say twelve hours. In all ninety-six hours.
Divide by twenty-four, that is exactly four days."

"At that rate, the rebel ships cannot possibly reach Janjalla before
to-morrow midnight. When do we leave here?"

"About three o'clock," said Rafael, glancing at his watch. "The
torpederas can knock out eighteen knots, but the full speed of _The
Iturbide_ is fifteen. We will reckon at that, so by leaving here at
three can reach Janjalla long before midnight."

"Bueno! We shall have a clear twenty-four hours in which to sink _The
Pizarro_."

"Twelve," contradicted Rafael, captiously, "we must attack in the
darkness. The less risk the better."

"I don't see that it makes much difference," retorted Jack, grimly, "if
_The Pizarro_ can fight two torpedo boats and an armed cruiser she
is a mighty clever ship. I look upon _The Pizarro_ as lost."

"So do I, Juan," replied Rafael, with a sad expression flitting across
his face, "she was my ship, you know. I am sorry that it falls to my
lot to sink her."

"Perhaps she will surrender."

"Not while she is commanded by De Galvez. He was my first lieutenant,
and is as obstinate as the devil. Dios! There is noon. We have not much
time in which to make our adieux. Go up and see Dolores, mi amigo, but
return by two o'clock."

Jack gladly took advantage of the permission and had a long interview
with Dolores, who wept bitterly at the idea of parting with him again.
She was already low-spirited, through having comforted Eulalia, and now
that her own lover was going away broke down entirely.

"Promise me you will take the greatest care of yourself, querido."

"My dearest, I will ask Rafael to wrap me in cotton wool. But, indeed,
cara, you need not fear. I will be as safe on board _The Montezuma_ as
in Tlatonac."

"But you will be gone many days."

"A week at the most. If we succeed in sinking _The Pizarro_ we will
steam north to meet the other war-ships, and try our luck with them."

"I will pray for you, Juanito, and I will look after the beetles of Don
Pedro."

Jack burst out laughing at the incongruity of such coupling.

"Has Don Pedro asked you to look after that rubbish!"

"Yes, Juanito! I am to take the very greatest care. They are precious."

"In the doctor's eyes they are more precious than the opal. By the way,
where is Peter?"

"He has said farewell, and departed with my uncle. Would I could come
down to the boat, querido. But I dare not."

"I never knew such particular people as the Tlatonacians," muttered
Jack, somewhat vexed. "Well, angelito, we must say good-bye here."

"Will you take the opal for good fortune, Juan?"

"I? Take the opal? My dear Dolores, I would be frightened out of my
life at carrying such a treasure with me. No! No! You keep the opal
with yourself, and yourself in Tlatonac. Then will the good fortune of
the city be assured. But I will take this ring."

"Turquoise! rubies! pearls!" said Dolores, drawing it off her finger.
"It was my mother's, querido. Now it is yours."

"A thousand thousand thanks, alma de mi alma!" replied Jack, slipping
it on his little finger, "it will remind me ever of you. Rubies for
your lips, pearls for your teeth, and--and----"

"Ah! and what for turquoise?" said Dolores, seeing he was rather
nonplussed, "for my eyes?"

"No, those are black! Well, we will say turquoise for peace. The blue
ray of the opal means peace. And now, good-bye, my dearest--my own
one!"

"Adios, Juanito. My soul! My heart!"

Jack, not trusting himself to speak further, kissed her passionately,
and hastily left the house. Fortunately, he met no one, much to his
gratification, as he was too agitated to say a word. He went to his
house, and put all his necessaries together, then, in company with
Peter, went on board _The Montezuma_.

At three o'clock the forts saluted the squadron, and _The Iturbide_,
followed by the torpederas, stood out to sea. The crowd on the beach
watched the vessels until they were mere specks on the horizon, and
then retreated within the walls, with loudly expressed hopes that they
would return with the rebel ship in tow. The Tlatonacians expected much
more than they were ever likely to obtain.

The three vessels stood out about ten miles from the coast, and steamed
southward at no great speed, as Pedraza did not wish to fetch Janjalla
until darkness had set in. As two warships and the transports had gone
to Acauhtzin, it was probable that _The Pizarro_ would be the only
vessel left in the harbour, and vigilant watch would be kept on board,
lest the torpederas should come on her unawares. The rebel commander
knew perfectly well that the torpederas had arrived, and would soon be
in chase of his ships; but he did not expect that they would be able to
attack while the other war-ships were away. Still, it was probable _The
Pizarro_ would make good use of her search-lights, and Pedraza, wishing
to come to close quarters unexpectedly, had to exercise the greatest
care as they drew near the harbour.

Towards nine o'clock they were off the coast of Janjalla, and intense
excitement prevailed on board all three vessels. The plan of attack
had been settled at a general counsel on board _The Iturbide_ before
they left Tlatonac, and it was arranged as follows. _The Iturbide_
was to steam silently into the harbour of Janjalla, followed by
he torpederas, and come to close quarters with _The Pizarro_, if
possible. Should she be discovered by the search-light of the latter,
she was then to steam boldly ahead, and concentrate the attention of
the rebels on herself. _The Pizarro_, thus being busy with the
cruiser, would not notice the torpederas, which could then steal
silently within five hundred yards, and launch a Whitehead or so. The
result would be obvious.

The torpederas, with twin screws and powerful engines, manoeuvred with
wonderful rapidity, darting here and there in the darkness like black
sharks. Both were armed with Hotchkiss guns and four Whitehead
torpedo-tubes, while their strong search-lights protected them against
the unexpected approach of an enemy. Painted a dark colour to escape
notice, they could steal silently within striking distance of a
vessel, and sink her with one of their deadly explosives. The only
chance of safety for _The Pizarro_ lay in her sighting them at a
considerable distance, and keeping them at bay with her heavy guns;
but as she would be fully taken up with _The Iturbide_, this would be
difficult for her to do. Worst of all, she had no defence against the
rapid darting torpederas, as the nets had been left behind in
Tlatonac, when she deserted to the rebel Xuarez.

As to the cruiser, she was a handsome vessel, with a spar deck, and
filled with bow chasers and Gatling guns. She carried a crew of ninety
men including officers, and also two hundred soldiers, who had embarked
at Tlatonac to be landed, if possible, at Janjalla. Fifteen knots was
her usual speed; but, if necessary, she could stand to seventeen. This
was the fleet of the Junta, and now manoeuvred ten miles from the
town of Janjalla, waiting the signal to pounce down on the unsuspecting
_Pizarro_.

Fortunately the night was cloudy and dark. At intervals the moon,
emerging from behind heavy clouds, cast a pale light over the scene. It
was far down in the west, and would soon drop behind the low-lying
shore, so Pedraza, who wanted complete darkness for his project, waited
until her disappearance before he gave the signal to steam into the
harbour. All lights were extinguished on the vessel, so as to avoid
attracting the attention of the enemy, but, if necessary, the
search-lights could blaze forth in an instant. The torpederas were to
attack the warship, one on the port, the other on the starboard side.
It was now close upon midnight, and as the moon showed but half her orb
above the shore, all waited the signal in breathless silence.

"What is to be done if we sink _The Pizarro_?" asked Jack, as he stood
by Rafael, watching for the signal from _The Iturbide_.

"Quien sabe!" replied Maraquando, shrugging his shoulders, "I expect we
will wait in the harbour till daylight, and then see if we can land our
troops."

"There won't be much chance of that, my Comandante," said Duval, drily;
"between us and Janjalla two thousand rebel troops lie encamped. We
cannot break through that barrier."

"You forget, mi amigo, there are close on a thousand troops of the
Junta in the town. By this time the reinforcements must have reached
their destination, so that will make two thousand. If they attack the
rebels from Janjalla, and we land our two hundred men under cover of
_The Iturbide's_ guns, who knows but what we may not be able to crush
these scoundrels before their warships and transports arrive from
Acauhtzin."

"Bueno! Always presuming that the reinforcements have arrived safely. I
fear the Indians."

"Carambo! Surely a thousand well-armed soldiers are a match for a horde
of naked savages. The reinforcements are safe in Janjalla by now. I am
sure of it. Believe me, Don Juan, we shall exterminate the rebels."

"First we shall have to exterminate _The Pizarro_, and----"

"Hold!" interrupted Rafael joyfully, "the signal."

A rocket shot up from _The Iturbide_ and scattered its fires in the
dark air. The moon had entirely disappeared, and an intense gloom
prevailed over land and sea.

Hardly had the rocket's trail of fire disappeared when _The
Iturbide's_ screw began to spin and followed by the torpederas she
moved cautiously towards the harbour at half speed. At the end of an
hour all three vessels were within sight of the town. Through the
gloom sparkled the lights of Janjalla, and between them and the
incoming vessels lay the huge bulk of _The Pizarro_, the glare of her
search-lights shooting up into the dark like two gigantic swords of
pale flame.

_The Iturbide_ was leading by three hundred yards, and crept
cautiously forward so as to pounce on her prey unawares. Whether the
noise of her screw reached the ears of those on board _The Pizarro_,
or that they marked her coming through the darkness, it is impossible
to say, but just as she steamed within eight hundred yards, the
search-lights swept round like the spokes of a wheel and in a moment
their glare revealed her whereabouts. In the radiance she stood out
like a phantom ship, and seeing that he was discovered, Pedraza
cracking on all steam, swept past _The Pizarro_ in a wide circle.

A heavy fire was at once opened by the rebels and they doubtless
deemed that this foe was not alone, for keeping one light on the
cruiser, they swept the sea with the other in search of her possible
companions. Those on board _The Iturbide_ could hear the yell of
mingled rage and terror, as the light struck the low bulk of _The
Zuloaga_ darting through the water, evil looking and venomous. A
broadside was poured on the torpedera, now left unprotected by _The
Iturbide_ which was circling to the left in the inner part of the bay.
Owing to the dexterity of _The Zuloaga's_ manoeuvring, none of the
heavy guns could hit her. She skimmed the grey waves at full speed
like a swallow, and the search light of _The Pizarro_ was much put to
in following her. It was like a dancer in the theatre followed by the
lime light. One moment the torpedera would be swallowed up in the
gloom, the next moment the darting ray of the electric light would
stab through the darkness and pick her out. The other ray followed
_The Iturbide_, which kept steaming slowly backwards and forwards on
the port side, firing her Armstrongs whenever she got a fair chance.

_The Zuloaga_ sent off a bow torpedo, but it passed harmlessly under
the stern of _The Pizarro_ without doing any damage. Nevertheless, the
crew of the rebel ship seemed much alarmed, as well they might be,
seeing that a single torpedo striking them amidships would sink their
iron ship in a few minutes. Foolishly enough, it never occurred to De
Galevez to sweep the starboard with his lights, and he was quite
unaware that a second torpedo-vessel was stealing up in the darkness.

Indeed, what with following _The Iturbide_ and _The Zuloaga_ with his
search-lights, De Galevez had enough to do, and kept the torpedo boat
at bay with his heavy guns. Occasionally a shot from _The Iturbide_
would pass through the rigging of the rebel ship, but no damage was
done, and De Galevez's great desire was to keep at a distance the
wasp-like torpedo which circled round rapidly, everywhere trying to
plant its sting.

While this drama was taking place on the port side, _The Montezuma_,
on seeing _The Iturbide_ was discovered, moved up on the starboard at
a distance of four hundred yards. When abreast of _The Pizarro_ she
slowed down her engines and crept up within pistol range. Had it not
been for the incessant firing of the guns, those on board _The
Pizarro_ would surely have become aware of their danger. As it was,
they thought themselves safe while they kept _The Zuloaga_ at a
distance. A tremendous broadside was directed at that torpedera and at
_The Iturbide_. It was her last discharge, for the next moment she was
struck amidships by a torpedo from _The Montezuma_.

There was a cry of frenzied fear, and the search lights flashed round
to starboard only to see _The Montezuma_ slipping back into the gloom.
Three minutes afterwards _The Pizarro_ sank.

The vessels of the Junta at once flashed their electric rays on the
spot, and where a moment before had been a magnificent vessel, now saw
nothing but a wide expanse of cold black sea dotted with drowning men.
Boats were lowered by _The Iturbide_ and a few soldiers and sailors
were rescued, but so suddenly had _The Pizarro_ gone down that, with
the exception of half a dozen survivors, the whole crew, officers, and
soldiers, in all three hundred men, were drowned.

It would be impossible to describe the joy on board the loyalist ships
at this successful termination of the contest. Rafael and Jack went on
board _The Iturbide_ to receive the congratulations of Pedraza for
their success, and the officers of _The Zuloaga_ also hastened to
participate in the general joy. The large state-room of the cruiser
was one mass of excited men, drinking champagne, and wildly embracing
one another. This victory would surely damp the enthusiasm of the
rebels, and raise that of the loyalists to fever pitch. Don Hypolito
had now but two ships of war, and these could not surely stand before
the valour of _The Iturbide_, with her two torpedo-vessels. The
_vivas_ were deafening, and Rafael, as commander of the boat which had
sunk _The Pizarro_, was nearly stifled by the embraces of his brother
officers.

As soon as the excitement had somewhat subsided, all went on deck, and
_The Iturbide_ stood in to the shore with the idea of seeing how
matters stood in the rebel camp. Flying the Opal flag, lest the forts
should open fire on one of their own vessels, the cruiser turned her
lights on to the beach, and saw that it was lined with the rebel
forces, all under arms. The noise of the firing and the flashing of the
lights had attracted the attention of those on shore, and fearing that
an attack was contemplated by the enemy, those rebels encamped in front
of Janjalla were now on the alert. No one could understand the reason
of this sea-fight, as it seemed quite impossible that the torpederas
could have arrived from Tlatonac in so short a period. The general in
command of the troops of Xuarez did not know what to think, and had to
wait till dawn before he could make up his mind what course to pursue.

As the lights of _The Iturbide_ struck the distant town, a long
line of walls, surmounted by a crowd, leaped out of the darkness. The
search-lights from the forts were flashed on to the ships, and those in
Janjalla recognising the Opal flag, cheered vociferously. They saw
three boats, each flying the ensign of Tlatonac, and no _Pizarro_.
Then they guessed what had occurred, and were glad accordingly. The
rebel soldiers on the beach stamped and swore with rage as they saw
their loss, but being without boats could do nothing save parade under
arms till dawn, so as to be prepared against a possible attack by the
victorious loyalists.

"Bueno!" cried Captain Pedraza, who had his night glass up. "There is
one good thing, mis amigos, the Opal flag still flies over the town, so
as yet it holds out."

"What is next to be done, Comandante?" asked Jack, who was standing
near with Rafael.

"We must wait till dawn, Señor Americano, and then find out if the
reinforcements have arrived at Janjalla. Afterwards we will steam back
to Tlatonac, and if possible meet the _Cortes_ and _Columbus_ coming
back. In any event, we must go to Tlatonac to report this victory to
the Junta."

"Shall you land these two hundred troops?"

"Caranto! Why not?"

"Because the camp of the enemy lies between the town and ourselves. Two
hundred men cannot do much against two thousand."

"True, Señor. If it is impossible, we will not attempt it. But at dawn,
I will signal to General Gigedo to make a sally from the gates down to
the shore; our men will land, and effect a conjunction, and so with
small loss they ought to get into the town. Especially under cover of
our guns, and those of the forts."

"I don't see what use that will be, Pedraza," interrupted Rafael,
bluntly.

"Caro, Señor! His Excellency ordered this to be done, so it must be
done."

"Rather a useless task, I think," said Jack, dryly. "However, I am not
sorry, as I wish to get into the town myself. But you, Señor
Comandante, what will you do?"

"Wait till these troops are safe with Gigedo, and also ascertain if the
reinforcements have arrived. Then I shall sail north."

"You won't wait for the warships and transports?"

"Carajo! what use? We shall find those on our way to Tlatonac."

After this conversation, Rafael and Jack returned on board _The
Montezuma_, the former slightly gloomy in spite of the victory so
unexpectedly achieved.

"Caro, Juan!" he said, reflectively; "if we lose this war, it will be
through Don Francisco Gomez. He is a good politician, but a bad
general. What use is there to sacrifice two hundred men to-morrow?"

"It's rather like the Charge of the Light Brigade, certainly," replied
Jack, with a smile; "as foolhardy and as brave."

"What is that, mi amigo?"

Whereupon Jack related the glorious charge to Rafael, and thereby
stirred up the excitable Spaniard to fiery enthusiasm.

"Oh, what men are the English," he cried, stamping his foot. "It is a
story worthy of the Cid. But this to-morrow, my friend--it is rare! it
is brave! and, like your story, there is no good to be gained."

"Perhaps Gomez wants to frighten the rebels by showing them how
dauntless are his men."

"Dios! That is not wise. The sinking of _The Pizarro_ will frighten
them without risking two hundred lives. However, as it is ordered, it
must be done. But you, Don Juan! Will you go?"

"Assuredly, mi amigo. I wish to see the Señor Correspondent and
Felipe."

"But you will be killed."

"That is as it may be. But no, Rafael. I did not escape the perils of
Totatzine to fall in a skirmish before the walls of Janjalla. But see,
mi amigo, it is nearly dawn, let us snatch a few hours' sleep."

"Bueno!" replied Rafael, leading the way to his cabin; "but first we
must call our friends together, and toast our victory once more."

It was done accordingly.




CHAPTER XIII.

WITHOUT THE WALLS.

    Walls of stone like mountains rise,
    Grey against the morning skies;
    Still the royal banner flies,
    Watched with hate by rebels' eyes.
    And around the ramparts grey,
    In the mists an army lies.

    Set in battle's wild array,
    At the dawning of the day,
    Traitors to their sovereign they,
    Who would loyal subjects slay.
    Hold this city as a slave,
    Under democratic sway.

    Cannons thunder, banners wave,
    As come on the foemen brave,
    'Neath these walls to find a grave;
    Yet this city shall we save,
    Never let it be the prize
    Of the coward, fool, and knave.


Shortly after dawn, Jack went on deck, to have a thorough examination
of the coast-line. The situation of Janjalla was peculiar. To the right
a shallow river meandered seaward through low-lying, swampy ground,
discharging itself sluggishly by several mouths. A desolate plain
stretched for leagues on the left to the base of distant mountains, and
between swamp and plain the city appeared built on a rocky height.
Directly in front of the walls the sandy ground fell rapidly towards
the sea, on the extreme verge of which was a compact mass of huts
forming a kind of sea-port. The wharf shot out suddenly from this
miniature town. It lay along the hollow of the beach, and above it, in
the near distance, rose the grey walls of Janjalla from the rocky
cliffs. Above these, the domes of churches, the towers of houses, and,
highest of all, the expanse of bluish sky grey with the chill mists of
morning.

In the beach hollow, the army of Xuarez was encamped, partly in the
houses, partly in the tents which whitely dotted the desolate shore.
Owing to the rapid fall of the ground from the ramparts, the invaders
were quite safe from the cannon of the forts. These could defend the
town against the attack of ships, but were unable to be depressed
sufficiently to command the spot where the rebels were encamped, thus,
in the very jaws of danger, lay the besiegers in comparative safety.
Jack, surveying all this through a telescope, was astonished to see
that the engineers who had constructed the defences had been so foolish
as to leave this debatable ground between rampart and sea. Perhaps they
deemed that the cannon would not permit ships to approach near enough
for the disembarking of hostile troops, but they seemed to have
forgotten that the heavy guns of a man-of-war could silence the forts.
This, perhaps, had not been done, as the cannon on the ramparts still
defended the city; but there was no doubt in Jack's mind that Don
Hypolito had landed his troops under cover of a heavy fire from his
three ships directed at the forts. Once encamped on shore, and the
besiegers could bid defiance to the lines of cannon, whose balls passed
harmlessly over their heads.

"Ola, Señor Juan," said Rafael's gay voice behind him, "you are up
early."

"Good morning, mi amigo," replied Jack, turning with a smile. "I have
been up at least half an hour, examining the town."

"A place forsaken of God, is it not? Dios! to think that some fools
would have this to be the capital of Cholacaca. Swamps there, sandy
plains yonder. Holy Mary! how can it compare with Tlatonac?"

"It is the first time I have been so far south, and I don't think much
of either country or town."

"Oh, the situation is good for defence."

"I'm not so sure of that, Rafael. It is true that the city is built on
a rocky height, and well defended by swamp and desert; but look how
safely enemies can lie under the walls."

"Eh! what would you, Juan? The muzzles of the guns cannot be depressed
sufficiently to sweep the beach."

"Then why didn't the engineers build two forts right and left, in order
to command the intervening ground?"

"Dios! And thus knock each other to pieces."

"True. Well, then, have one fort. See, mi amigo. On the right, that
wide swamp is a sufficient protection against the approach of an enemy;
but had I constructed the defences of the town, I would have run an arm
of forts between the desert and that sea-fort. Thus a double line of
cannon would have commanded the beach, and even if an enemy did succeed
in landing in face of the fire of the town forts, they could not have
encamped there as they have done."

"That is true, Juan," replied Rafael, who now had the telescope to his
eye. "But it is now too late to deplore the lack of defences. The
rebels have landed, and are safely bestowed within stone-throw of the
city. Look at the number of them, and all on the alert. Santissima!
they won't feel very happy this morning, now that they see _The
Pizarro_ is lost."

"Surely," said Jack, taking no notice of this last remark, "surely
Pedraza does not intend to land two hundred men directly in front of
the town?"

"It is foolish, I admit," answered Rafael, shrugging his shoulders;
"but what with a sally of our troops from the town, and the guns of our
boats playing on the beach, it may be managed."

"I doubt it. Two hundred men may land under cover of our fire; but,
believe me, Rafael, fifty will not break through that living barrier
and enter the town."

"I grant that. As I said last night, it is a useless waste of life, and
his Excellency must have surely forgotten the situation of Janjalla
when he gave such a rash command. But what else can be done, save obey
his order?"

"Obey it, by all means, but not in the way commanded."

"What do you mean?"

Jack was sweeping the shore right and left with the telescope, and did
not reply for a few minutes. At length he spoke, indicating the several
points he mentioned, with his hand.

"Behold, mi amigo," he said, pointing towards the desert, "to land
there would be foolish, as the enemy could march along to defend that
point while the boats pulled in. The same with the central position. It
is madness to land in the teeth of two thousand men. But look to the
right. Why not land the troops up the coast, and let the swamp lie
between them and the enemy?"

"Bueno!" replied Rafael, seizing the idea at once. "But how do you
propose to enter the city?"

"Ah, that I can't say, not knowing the geography of the place."

"I have a map below. Come with me, Juan, and we will invent some plan,
then go on board _The Iturbide_ to interview Pedraza. I am with you in
trying to prevent this sacrifice of two hundred men by landing them in
the jaws of danger."

They went down to the cabin, and Rafael, after hunting about for a few
minutes, found a map of the southern portion of Cholacaca. He spread it
out on the table, and they began to examine it at once.

"Here!" said Jack, drawing his finger along the paper; "here is
Janjalla, here the swamp and river, beyond is a kind of rolling
prairie. If we land the troops here, we can march them parallel to the
river, into the interior country."

"That is so, mi amigo! But, you see, the river is ever between the
troops and the city. If the enemy see our men marching on this side,
they can march on the other, and so keep our men from entering the
city."

"Not if Pedraza signals to the forts. You forget that the rebels are
only safe so long as they keep in the hollow of the beach. If they
march up on the right, they expose themselves to a heavy fire.
Consequently, the forts can keep them in check, and our troops,
marching along on the right bank of the stream, can surely find some
ford by which to cross, and then gain the inland gate of Janjalla by a
detour."

"Como, no!" exclaimed Rafael, in a lively tone rolling up the map. "It
is not at all a bad idea. Let us board _The Iturbide_, and explain
your plan to the Comandante."

"Who commands the expedition?" asked Jack, as he hastily snatched up a
brace of revolvers and a heavy cloak.

"Don Sebastian de Ahumada. He is a great friend of mine. In fact,"
added Rafael, laughing, "he is a cousin of Doña Carmencita de Tajada."

"My poor Rafael, your suit does not progress much in that quarter."

"Not with Don José, perhaps; but I am content to wait till the war is
ended, so far as my angel is concerned. She will be true to me, as I to
her. By the way, mi amigo, know you that Don José is now Governor of
Acauhtzin, in the absence of Don Hypolito?"

"No, I did not know it. Is Don Hypolito yonder?"

"Not now. He was on board _The Cortes_, and has gone back to
Acauhtzin, but will doubtless come south again, to personally conduct
the war."

"I should like to get a shot at him," said Jack, grimly; "the brute. I
shall never forgive him for his treachery. Well, who knows?--

    Perhaps a recruit
    May chance to shoot
    Great General Bonaparte."

"What say you?" asked Rafael, puzzled at those
lines, which were recited in English.

"Nothing, nothing. A something to relieve my feelings. Is that boat
never going to be ready?"

"It is ready now," said the young man, gaily; "in with you, mi amigo!
Row to _The Iturbide_ Benito! So--give way, men!"

The oars dipped into the water as the sun arose in the east, and the
boat shot away from _The Montezuma_ over a flood of gold. Rafael was
in great spirits, and chatted gaily all the time; but Jack, thinking
of the peril of the proposed expedition, was graver. Besides, he was
anxious about the safety of Philip and Tim.

"By the way," said Rafael, suddenly, "Don Pedro did not return with us
last night."

"No; Pedraza asked him to sleep on board _The Iturbide_. See, there he
is, looking over the bulwarks. I can tell him by the flash of the sun
on his spectacles!"

"Dios! How strange! Will Don Pedro go with you into the town?"

"Certainly not," replied Jack, decisively; "it is too risky! Take him
back with you to Tlatonac."

"Assuredly! My aunt would never forgive me if harm came to Don Pedro."

Rafael laughed heartily at the idea, for this undutiful nephew was much
amused at the flirtation between Peter and Serafina.

"She will marry him, Juan! I am sure of it."

"Then we will have four weddings when the war is over, Rafael."

"Four weddings. Por todos santos! What mean you?"

"Myself and Dolores. Yourself and Doña Carmencita. Pedro and your aunt,
and Señor Felipe and Doña Eulalia!"

"Eh, mi amigo!" cried Rafael, in a lively tone, "does my sister favour
that cavalier? Dios! what says my father?"

"He does not know anything yet. But as he has consented to receive one
heretic into his family, he can surely stretch a point, and receive
two."

"Como, no! But it may be! Who knows? Ah! Here we are at _The
Iturbide_. Come, Juan!"

They climbed up the side of the cruiser, and were received by Captain
Pedraza and Peter.

"Buenos dias de Dios á ustedes, Señores," said Pedraza, greeting them
heartily. "I am glad to see you both, as I wish to land these troops at
once. Señor Pedro desires to go also."

"What nonsense, Peter," said Jack, in English, turning to his friend;
"it is too dangerous. You stay on board, and go back to Tlatonac."

"I shall not!" returned the doctor, indignantly; "you are going, so why
should not I? Besides, I wish to see Tim, and to be certain that Philip
has arrived safely."

"I don't want you killed, Peter," protested Jack.

"I won't be killed any more than you will be, Jack. It's not a bit of
use your talking, I'm going with you. I have my medicine-chest with
me."

"Oh, well, obstinacy! Have it your own way," replied Duval, touched by
this proof of Peter's friendship; "but Tim will pitch at me for
bringing you into danger."

"Tim will be glad enough to have a doctor at hand. Why, Jack, I should
have been at Totatzine to cure you."

"Cocom was good at a pinch."

"A quack!" muttered Peter, scornfully. He could not forgive Cocom
having cured Jack so rapidly. It was a case of professional jealousy.

"Señor Duval," said Pedraza, approaching Jack, "Don Rafael tells me you
and he have hit on a plan to land the troops without danger."

Jack signified that they had some such idea in their heads, and in
company with Pedraza, they went below to look at the map. Don
Sebastian followed them, and after a long discussion, the Comandante
decided to accept the suggestion. _The Iturbide_ raised her anchor,
and steamed a short distance up the coast, so as to land the troops
beyond the swamp. Signals having been made to the torpederas, they
remained in their former position, before the town.

When the rebels saw _The Iturbide_ moving northward, they shouted
with joy, thinking that she was about to leave the harbour; but their
delight was turned into rage as they saw boat after boat drop from her
sides, and, laden with troops, make for the shore. Numbers ran along
the beach, to the verge of the swamp, but here their progress was
stayed, as it was impossible for them to cross the quagmire. They could
only remain quiet, and gesticulate with anger, though many fired their
guns, and two cannon were brought along the shore in the hope of doing
some damage.

As yet they were safe, from the forts being too much in the hollow; but
when Pedraza saw the cannon brought up, he opened fire with his
Armstrongs, and signalled to the torpederas. These steamed abreast of
the swamp at once, and did considerable damage with their rapid-firing
Hotchkiss guns. Under cover of this cannonade, the whole of the troops
were duly landed, in admirable order, with the utmost celerity, and
then Jack, Peter, and Don Sebastian prepared to go on shore. Pedraza
gave De Ahumada sealed orders for Gigedo from the President, and Rafael
occupied himself in saying farewell to his English friends.

"You have your revolvers, mis amigos?" he said anxiously; "and swords?
Good! Cloaks? Ah, that is well. Have, also, these flasks of
aguardiente; you will need sustenance. The march to the inland-gate may
be a long one. Adios."

"Adios," replied Jack, dropping over the side. "Give my love to
Dolores, when you return to Tlatonac."

"I shall not fail. And, Don Pedro, have you any message?"

"Si, Señor," replied Peter, in his hesitating Spanish. "Doña Dolores.
Escarabajos."

"Beetles!" echoed Rafael, in great astonishment. "What does he mean by
beetles?"

His curiosity was not gratified, for already the boat was making
rapidly for the shore, and Jack, standing up in the stern, was waving
his adieux to all on board.

By this time the sun was far above the horizon, and already the heat
was becoming unpleasantly great. Don Sebastian at once formed his men
into marching order, and the little company proceeded along the bank of
the river, towards the interior of the country. Before them spread a
kind of rolling downs, with undulating hills, sparsely covered with
vegetation. Here and there patches of yellow sand streaked with fine
white dust. On one side stretched the illimitable plains, and on the
other the ground marshy and treacherous, sank imperceptibly into the
bed of the slow-flowing river. Beyond this, an interval of firm land
for some considerable distance, and then the rocky shelf on which
Janjalla was built. In front the stream meandered in an erratic manner
inland; away in the extreme distance appeared the dim line of forest,
above which arose the snowy cone of Xicotencatl. Over all arched the
cloudless blue sky, with the sun flaming hotly in the east.

The rebels had been considerably cut up by the incessant firing of the
ships, and had wisely fallen back into their camp. When, however, they
saw the loyalists moving inland, along the bank of the stream, a troop
of cavalry, some hundreds strong, galloped towards the swamp to
intercept them, if possible. The cruiser and the torpederas were still
in their former position, and as the cavalry turned the fatal corner,
to make for the inner country, they opened a heavy cannonade.
Considerable damage was inflicted particularly by the Hotchkiss guns,
and numbers of riders were soon struggling on the ground with their
wounded horses. In a few minutes, however, the troop, nothing dismayed,
escaped beyond the line of fire, and galloped parallel with the
loyalists, between swamp and walls.

This defile proved to be a perfect death-trap. For those within the
town, having observed the landing of the reinforcements, and the chase
by the enemy, opened fire from the forts, and shattered the compact
mass of horses and men as they steadily galloped along. At length,
however, they had to cease their fire, as the rebels artfully kept
abreast of the loyalists, and at times the balls swept across the
swamp, and played havoc with the soldiers of Don Sebastian. The only
thing to be done, therefore, was to let the cavalry go free, and trust
to a hand-to-hand combat when on the sandy plains at the back of the
town.

Both the ships and the forts, however, were determined that no more of
the enemy should join in the pursuit, for a heavy cannonade was kept up
as another troop tried to follow, and effectually held them back.

"Bueno!" said Don Sebastian, when he saw this. "We have but to deal
with those abreast of us; no more can follow."

"Cavalry against infantry, mi amigo! It is unequal, particularly if we
try to cross the river."

"Perhaps those in the town will come to our assistance," suggested
Peter, who was trudging along manfully.

"It is probable," replied De Ahumada, when this remark was translated
into good Spanish by Jack. "See, we are now nearly at the end of the
town. Yonder is the land-gate. If we remain here, assistance may come,
and while the cavalry are defending themselves against our friends, we
may be able to cross the river."

"Yes; that is if the cavalry don't get reinforced by their own men
coming round the other side of the town."

"Dios!" exclaimed Don Sebastian, grimly, "reinforcements certainly can
come that way, but they will be forced to make a wide detour in order
to keep out of range of the fort-guns. By the time they come up we may
be inside the walls."

"I fervently trust so, Señor," replied Duval, who, though no coward,
did not relish the idea of engaging two hundred infantry with double
the number of cavalry.

The city was enclosed by walls of a considerable height, was shaped in
a triangular fashion, the base being towards the ocean, and the
land-gate at the acute angle inland. They had now walked some distance
past the gate on the other side of the river, and a wide sheet of water
rolled between them and their enemies. On all sides spread the sandy
plain, and the walls of the city rose suddenly from the flat surface in
a most unexpected fashion. On the left bank halted the cavalry of the
enemy, prepared to dispute their crossing, and Don Sebastian was sorely
puzzled as to what was the best course to pursue.

"It is madness to cross in the face of that, Don Juan."

"Well, if we don't cross at once they will be reinforced from the other
side, and then it will be worse."

"Look, Jack, look!" cried Peter at this moment, "the gates are open!"

Just as he spoke a body of cavalry debouched from the city, and came
rapidly towards the rebels. They at once turned to meet this new
danger, and thus their attention was drawn off the infantry, upon
seeing which Don Sebastian waited a few minutes until the opposing
forces clashed together, and then gave the order to cross the river.

"Must we strip?" asked Peter, ruefully, looking at the three hundred
yards of water before him.

"Strip! no, man!" said Jack, laughing, "unless you want to enter
Janjalla naked. You can swim. At least you could at Bedford."

"Of course I can swim," said Peter, testily; "but I hate getting my
clothes wet."

"Oh, hang your clothes! The river is slow-flowing, so it is easy to get
across. See! the advance files are in already. In with you!"

Peter did not need any second admonition, but waded into the water
beside Jack and Don Sebastian. The cavalry, which otherwise would have
shot them down as they swam across, were fully occupied with the
loyalist regiment from Janjalla. Already in the extreme distance dark
masses might be seen rapidly moving along. They were the reinforcements
for the rebels making a detour on the other side of the city. There was
not a moment to be lost.

In a remarkably short space of time the whole of the infantry had
crossed, and were now standing high and dry on the other bank. Not even
giving them time to shake the water from their clothes, Don Sebastian
made them kneel and open fire on the rebels in the rear. Fortunately
each man had piled his musket and ammunition on his head while
swimming, so their arms were in excellent condition, and their
cartridges unwetted. A fusillade burst from the line, and wrought
considerable damage in the ranks of the enemy. Taken thus between two
fires, the rebels found themselves in exceedingly hot water, but
trusting that their comrades would soon reach them, turned and tried to
ride down the infantry. The soldiers immediately sprung to their feet
and scattered widely, firing into the troop whenever they got a chance.

Fresh troops of loyalist cavalry poured out of the gates and made for
the scene of action. What with being pretty nearly equally matched with
the cavalry, and exposed to the galling fire of the infantry, the
rebels began to lose heart, and, breaking into disorderly masses,
spread over the plain. The gates of the city were distant a quarter of
a mile, and seeing that the reinforcements of the enemy were close at
hand, Don Sebastian shouted to his men to close up and make for the
shelter of the walls. Seeing this the rebel reinforcements, darting
between the moving loyalists and the gates, tried to cut them off, but
were met in their turn by the mounted troops from Janjalla. The plain
was strewn with dead and dying, and the incessant cracking of rifles,
the yells of the combatants, and the thick clouds of pungent smoke
added to the horrors of the skirmish.

A huge trooper rode straight at Peter, and rolled him in the dust, but
Jack being close at hand shot the horse with his revolver, and pulled
his friend out of harm's way. By this time they were near the gates,
and Peter being somewhat stunned by his knock-down, was dragged along
rapidly by Jack, who wanted to get him into shelter as speedily as
possible.

It was now dangerous for the infantry to fire, as friend and foe were
blended in an inextricable mass; so, forming line as speedily as
possible, they ran for the gate, and at length reached it in safety.
Seeing that they were now out of danger, the cavalry of Janjalla began
to retreat towards the portal. To the left of the town, great masses of
reinforcements were moving up, and it would have been madness to have
opposed them with the small force of loyalists outside. The cavalry
galloped back, and as by this time the infantry had fled inside the
walls, the gates were closed at once.

"Jack! Jack! Peter!" cried a well-known voice, as Tim, grimy with
gunpowder and smoke, plunged down the street towards the gate. "Are you
safe?"

"Quite safe. But why the deuce are these men coming back? Why don't
they pour out and exterminate those devils?"

"What!" yelled Tim, throwing up his arms in surprise. "Why they can't
be spared. There's but seven hundred men here!"

"Seven hundred!" cried Jack, seized with a sudden qualm of fear. "But
the reinforcements--the thousand men?"

"No reinforcements have arrived, Jack."

"And Philip?"

"Philip!" said Tim, in alarm. "Was he with the reinforcements? God be
gracious to me. Not a man has arrived. When did they leave Tlatonac?"

"Four days ago."

"Four days! One hundred miles!"

The three friends, amid the tumult around them, with the enemy
thundering at the gate, looked at one another in silent dread. Then
Jack took off his sombrero.

"Poor Philip!" he said, solemnly. "I was afraid of those Indians. Oh,
my poor friend!"


END OF VOL. II.






End of Project Gutenberg's The Harlequin Opal, Vol. 2 (of 3), by Fergus Hume