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THE HARLEQUIN OPAL

A ROMANCE


BY

FERGUS HUME

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


VOLUME III


    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.--WITHIN THE WALLS                                 1

  II.--THE FALL OF JANJALLA                            22

 III.--THE FLIGHT TO TLATONAC                          44

  IV.--EXIT DON FRANCISCO GOMEZ                        60

   V.--THE INDIAN RAID                                 76

  VI.--THE LUCK OF THE OPAL                            96

 VII.--UNDER THE OPAL FLAG                            113

VIII.--THE BATTLE OF CENTEOTL                         131

  IX.--THE TRIUMPH OF THE REPUBLIC                    154

   X.--THE CANON ROAD                                 167

  XI.--THE DESTINY OF THE OPAL                        191

 XII.--FAREWELL, TLATONAC!                            219




THE HARLEQUIN OPAL.




CHAPTER I.

WITHIN THE WALLS.

    Circle of stone,
    Circle of steel,
    Loyalists true,
    Pent up in battle belts twain;
    Yet we, alone,
    Doubly feel,
    That with our few,
    We shall a victory gain.

    Climb up our foes,
    Over the wall,
    Deep bit the swords,
    Fiercely the cannon spout fire;
    Yet 'neath our blows,
    Downward they fall,
    Traitorous hordes,
    In torment and blood to expire.


Tim at once took his friends to his quarters, and made them
comfortable, but scarcely had they finished a hurried meal, when an
aide-de-camp arrived from General Gigedo requiring their presence
without delay. As Peter had received a nasty blow on the head during
the _mêlée_, Jack insisted that he should remain behind and rest
himself. Peter feebly remonstrated against this arrangement, as he
wanted to accompany his friends, but in the end was forced to yield to
their insistence. Then Duval buckled on his sword, slipped his
revolvers into his belt, and went off with Tim to report himself at
head-quarters.

Both of them were terribly alarmed about Philip. In the first burst of
emotion Jack had deemed his friend dead; but, on looking at the matter
calmly, it seemed probable that he would yet turn up well and unhurt.
It was impossible that Indians, in whatever number, could utterly
exterminate a body of disciplined troops amounting to a thousand men.
Tim's opinion was that if they had been attacked and overpowered by
strategy, they had fled to the nearest town for shelter. As he had
marched overland with Colonel Garibay from Tlatonac, he knew the
country better than did Jack, and proceeded to defend his theory of the
reinforcements' safety, by describing the position of the towns.

"It's a hundred miles or more as the crow flies from Tlatonac to this
God-forsaken place. Within that limit are four towns, no less--one
every twenty miles. When we marched south two weeks ago, we first went
to Chichimec, then to Puebla de los Naranjos, which last one is midway.
Hermanita is next, and then after dropping in at Centeotl, we came on
to Janjalla!"

"Still, if the Indians surprised them by night they might have
surrounded and exterminated the whole lot. To my mind nothing is so
dangerous as a despised enemy."

"What!" cried Tim, with great contempt, "d'you mean to tell me that a
lot of naked savages could manage that. By my soul, 'tis impossible!"

"But, my dear fellow, the Indians are out in thousands. Cocom told me
so."

"They may be out in millions," retorted Tim, emphatically. "I tell you,
Jack, they couldn't have killed all these men. A good number of them
must have escaped to the nearest town, and, I'll lay my soul on it,
that among those who got away is Philip. He wasn't born to be murdered
by a lot of howling savages."

"Well, let us hope so," replied Jack, who was beginning to take this
comfortable view of things himself; "but, tell me, Tim, when the
reinforcements didn't arrive, why did you not wire to Tlatonac?"

"Begad! I couldn't. The rebels cut the telegraph wires some days since.
The last message was that you and Doña Dolores had come back safely.
Ah, my boy," cried Tim, slapping Jack on the shoulder, "didn't I sing
'Glory Hallelujah,' when I heard that same. But, I knew you'd turn up
again all safe."

"I didn't know it myself!" replied Jack, grimly "it was touch and go, I
can tell you."

"Dioul! You must tell me all about it. But hold your noise, Jack, and
don't be lamenting for Philip. If you returned, so will he."

"I fervently hope so," said Jack, gloomily; "but I own that I feel
doubtful. Are the wires cut on both sides of the town?"

"No! glory be to the saints. I can still telegraph to England by the
wires going south, but I expect them to be cut every minute, so I'm
hard at work sending all the news I can."

"Did you see the fight last night?"

"Did I not! Whow, my boy! I guessed what was up, but till the dawn
we weren't quite sure of the trouble. Begad! _The Pizarro's_ gone
anyhow."

"Yes. But the other warships and transports are due to-night."

"Then we'll have another fight," said Tim, coolly; "wasn't I wishing I
was on board a torpedera! There's a heap to talk about, Jack; how you
escaped from that infernal Xuarez, and how you sank _The Pizarro_. I
want to wire about that same right away."

"First I must see what the General desires. Oh, here is Garibay. A
thousand greetings, Colonel."

"What, Señor Juan! Ah, mi amigo, how pleased I am to see you safe once
more. I deemed you were dead."

"Dios! He is a merry corpse, Señor," said Tim, turning his head.
"Where's the General?"

"Within yonder house of the Jefe Politico. You also, Señor
Correspoñsal, does he desire to see."

"I am at the service of Señor Gigedo. Know you, Comandante, what he
desires to speak of?"

"It is that you will convey the glorious news of our naval victory to
your gran'diario."

"Dios! That will be done within an hour. I but waited to find out all
particulars from Don Juan."

"Oh! I can tell you everything," said Jack cheerfully, "I was on board
_The Montezuma_ with Don Rafael, and it was her torpedo which sank
_The Pizarro_."

"Viva los Torpederas," shouted Garibay, who was greatly excited over
this unexpected victory.

The cry was taken up by a chattering group of officers lounging in from
off the General's headquarters, and Jack being recognized was at once
surrounded by them. They were mostly young fellows, who were weary of
being pent up within the walls of a suburban town, and saw in this
sinking of _The Pizarro_, a chance of coming face to face with the
enemy. It was all cries of Viva! Bueno! Gracias a Dios! as Duval passed
through their midst, and many would fain have detained him, to learn
particulars of the combat; but Jack was anxious to hear Gigedo's views
concerning the non-arrival of the reinforcements, so entered the
mansion at once. Colonel Garibay conducted them both without delay to
the General's apartments. Gigedo, cigarette in mouth, was poring over a
large map of the country, evidently tracing the line of march from
Tlatonac, but on seeing Duval, he sprang up and advanced to salute him,
with a pleased smile.

"A thousand congratulations, Señor, on your escape from the hands of
Xuarez," he said, warmly; "and still more on your gallant conduct of
last night."

"Oh! as to that, General, I was but an onlooker," replied Duval,
modestly. "The credit of sinking _The Pizarro_ rests with Don
Rafael Maraquando. Have you heard the particulars?"

"Assuredly Señor, Don Sebastian de Ahumada has left me but this moment.
He informed me of the affair, and also delivered the instructions from
His Excellency. I find here," added Gigedo, striking a pile of papers
with his open hand, "that over a thousand men left Tlatonac for the
front, four days ago."

"That is so, General. My friend, Señor Felipe, was with them."

"They have not arrived, Don Juan. The troops of Xuarez cannot have
intercepted them and I am at a loss to understand this delay. Can you
explain?"

"Señor," said Jack after a pause, "before I left Tlatonac there were
rumours of an Indian rising. While a prisoner at Totatzine I saw myself
the tribes, incited to war by Ixtlilxochitli, the High Priest of the
Chalchuih Tlatonac."

"Ah, that cursed opal!" cried Garibay, fiercely; "it is the cause of
great trouble. Would that it could be taken from the Indians."

"Rest content, Señor Garibay; it _is_ taken from the Indians. Doña
Dolores took it from the shrine, and it is now in Tlatonac."

"Dios!" exclaimed the General and Garibay, simultaneously, while Tim
was scarcely less astonished.

"Naturally enough the Indians wish to recover this sacred gem, Señor,
therefore the rising has taken place sooner than was expected. I fear,
gentlemen, that the Indians have surprised and massacred our poor
friends."

"Santissima Madre! a thousand men?"

"The Indian forces amount to three times that number," said Jack,
quickly. "It is true that His Excellency, at my request, sent
messengers after the reinforcements to warn them of a possible attack.
Yet it is not unlikely that these messengers may have been intercepted
by the Indians. They might have fallen on the reinforcements without
warning, and then--Señor, three thousand against one thousand--an
unexpected attack. Alas! it is a terrible risk."

"Our troops may have retreated to one of the towns," said Gigedo,
taking the same view of the case as had Tim. "This I would know if the
telegraph wires had not been cut. But as it is we can but wait."

"And meantime," remarked Garibay, dryly "Xuarez will land some
troops--already two thousand lie before the town--we have hard work,
even behind our walls to keep them back. Now we have scarcely five
hundred here capable of defending the town. Many are dead and
wounded--fever and dysentery prevail greatly. If Xuarez lands more
troops and makes an immediate attack Janjalla must fall."

"He cannot land more troops while _The Iturbide_ and the torpederas
guard the harbour." said Gigedo in a tone of some displeasure; "and
even if these two thousand again assault the walls we can hold out
until reinforcements arrive. His Excellency tells me that two thousand
men are to follow in ten days."

"Hark!" cried Tim, as Garibay was about to reply; "a gun!--another.
Señores, the warships are at it again. With your permission, General."

He hastily left the room and went off to the walls where he was soon
afterwards joined by Jack, who had been hurriedly dismissed by the
General. They looked seaward, and saw the performance of a most
extraordinary drama.

It was now about three o'clock, and the ocean like a sheet of glass
stretched in an inclined plane upward to the distant horizon. Owing to
the elevation of the city walls they looked down, as from the heights
of an amphitheatre. The ramparts were crowded with spectators,
townsfolk and soldiers. Immediately below was the beach, the rebel
camp--then the long pier shooting out into the blue, and beyond the
flashing expanse of the sea. _The Iturbide_ was lying a quarter of
a mile from the shore with her two torpederas, one on each side of her.
The cruiser had swung round, and was firing her guns at a slowly
approaching warship.

"_The Columbus_!" cried Jack, when his eyes fell upon this vessel.

"True for you, John," said Tim, handing him the glass. "She has come
south by herself. I thought you told me the transports were not due
here till midnight."

"No more they are. I expect Xuarez, learning through his spies of our
departure from Tlatonac has sent _The Columbus_ on ahead to join
forces with _The Pizarro_. With two warships he hopes to keep our lot
at bay till the transports with the _Cortes_ are safe in the harbour."

"The sinking of _The Pizarro_ will rather upset his plans. _The
Columbus_ dare not attack two torpederas and a cruiser, single-handed."

"Upon my soul! that seems exactly what she intends to do, Tim."

A low murmur of surprise arose from the crowd on the ramparts, who
were eagerly watching the warships. It seemed as though _The Columbus_
was bent on her own destruction, for she came steaming straight ahead
for the three ships of the Junta, insolently flying the red flag of
Xuarez.

"What the deuce does she mean," cried Tim, in perplexity. "Surely she
can't mistake _The Iturbide_ for her consort."

"Perhaps she intends to desert," suggested Jack.

_The Columbus_ was now more within range, and though hitherto she had
been silent under the fire of _The Iturbide_, she now began to speak
in her turn, and a white line of smoke ran along her black sides as
the balls came singing over the water.

"Not much deserting about that," said Tim, grimly; "no! the rebels have
some scheme in their heads."

By this time Pedraza was thoroughly enraged at the insolence of this
one ship attacking him single-handed, and signalled at once to the
torpederas. The captain of _The Columbus_ saw that the signals ordered
the boats to "up anchor," and acted accordingly. In a surprisingly
short space of time the rebel ship had swung round, and with full
steam ahead was standing out to sea. The ships of the Junta were taken
by surprise at their manoeuvre, and it was fully a question of an hour
before they started in pursuit. Tim shut his glass with a click.

"Jack, I see it all. _The Columbus_ wants to get our boats out of
the harbour so as to let _The Cortes_ and the transports slip in
together."

"Rather a risky game, Tim. She'll be overhauled and sunk by the
torpederas in no time."

"Not while she can keep them off with her heavy guns! What speed have
the torpederas?"

"Eighteen to nineteen knots."

"And _The Columbus_?"

"Well, Rafael says her ordinary speed is fifteen but in case of need
she can crack up steam to eighteen."

"Even that gives the torpederas one knot to the good. But she can
outsteam _The Iturbide_."

"Oh yes; sixteen is _her_ limit!"

"Then I tell you what! _The Columbus_, as I said, has come here as
a decoy--she knows the cruiser can't touch her speed, and she hopes to
keep the torpederas at a safe distance with her heavy guns. She's off
in a bee line straight out, and the other boats are after her. Then
she'll dodge them and steam back here to find _The Cortes_ and the
transports all safe in harbour."

"I believe you are right, Tim."

"Of course I'm right. Look at the way she's smoking through the water."

Jack put the glass to his eyes and saw _The Columbus_ was travelling
at top speed towards the open sea. After her scampered the two torpedo
boats like hounds on her trail. Further behind _The Iturbide_ with the
black smoke vomiting from her funnels was putting her soul into the
chase. Pedraza was evidently determined to follow up one victory by
another, and over eager to sink or capture the crack ironclad of the
rebels, forgot all about the incoming transports. Thus, in half an
hour the four ships were mere specks on the horizon, and the harbour
of Janjalla was left open for the arrival of Xuarez and fresh troops.

The crowd of people on the ramparts were too excited at the stirring
spectacle of the chase to think of such a thing, and yelled themselves
hoarse in cheering for Pedraza. Below on the beach the rebels, who had
evidently understood the manoeuvres of _The Columbus_, were cheering
vigorously for Don Hypolito.

"Wait you dogs," cried Jack, shaking his fists at them; "soon shall you
sing another tune."

"By all the saints so shall we," said Tim, wisely: "unless the forts
keep off the transports we'll have another two thousand troops down
there this night, and then--it's wigs on the green there will be."

"I agree with you, Tim--unless the reinforcements arrive."

"Even then, four thousand attacking a town can do a powerful lot, and
when the reinforcements arrive we'll only have one thousand five
hundred to put against them. However, let us not despair," added Tim,
philosophically. "Come with me, Don Juan, and we'll look over the town.
Then we'll go and see if there is any sign of the new troops."

Jack assented, and descending from the ramparts they made their way
through the town to the house where Tim had his quarters. The streets
were filled with soldiers, who mostly looked smart, and well fitted for
their work. Here and there were wounded men, and a few sick with
malarian fever from the adjacent swamp, but on the whole it was
wonderful how healthy was the town. Twice had the rebels assaulted the
walls and twice been beaten back, not without considerable loss of men
on the side of the loyalists. Fortunately, provisions were plentiful,
and it was the cool season, therefore the troops of the Junta were in
comparatively good condition. Despite their small numbers, they were so
heartened by the sinking of _The Pizarro_, that it was plain they
would fight like fiends to hold Janjalla until aid arrived from the
capital.

The townspeople took the fact of being besieged in the most contented
manner, and hardly interrupted their daily occupations. In the streets
the tortilleras were crying their wares, the water-carriers proclaiming
the fact that they sold "aqua limpia," and, but for the unusual number
of soldiers, it would have been quite impossible to see that the city
was in the very jaws of danger. At times a woman wrapped in the rebozo
would pass along the street, but as a rule they kept within doors, and
showed themselves but rarely. In the plazas men were being drilled, and
many of the houses were used as hospitals for the sick and wounded.

Tim and Jack made their way through the crowded streets, and duly
arrived at the former's quarters, where they found Peter eagerly
expecting them. He was weary of being by himself, and when he heard
they were going to the land-gate to seek news of the reinforcements,
insisted on accompanying them. After taking a drink of aguardiente, of
which they stood much in need, owing to the exhaustion caused by
excitement, the three friends set off at once to see if they could hear
anything about the expected troops.

Don Sebastian was fraternising with the captain in command of the
cavalry, as his own troops had been sent forward to the sea ramparts.
The mounted regiments were stationed at this end of the town as they
were more useful in sallies than were the infantry. This was proved by
the way in which they had succoured the soldiers from _The Iturbide_,
as only horse-men could have kept the rebel troops at bay.

"No signs yet, Señor," said Don Sebastian, politely; "but half an hour
ago the general sent out two Indian scouts with instructions to inquire
at Centeotl for our men."

"That is twenty miles away."

"Yes; but these Indians travel fast. Before midnight we shall hear news
of our troops--that is if they get as far south as Centeotl."

"And before midnight Xuarez will have landed his new regiments," said
Tim, turning away. "Well, there's no help for it, I suppose. Come, Jack
and Peter, 'tis no use waiting here. We must wait till these scouts
return."

"And meanwhile, Tim?"

"Come with me to the telegraph-office. I'm going to send an account of
the sea-fight to my paper."

"You are sure the wires are not cut to the southward?" said Peter, as
they trudged along to the office.

"They weren't this morning anyhow. Why should they cut them? All they
want to do is to intercept communication with the capital. They don't
care two straws what goes to England."

"Xuarez does. He told me so."

"Ah! but, you see, Xuarez is not here at present, and has forgotten to
give orders to cut them. When he arrives again, he'll do it, maybe."

"Well, seeing that he wishes the world to look on him as a noble
patriot, he certainly won't care about your wiring plain truths about
him to the old country. He'll either cut the wires or bring a war
correspondent on his own hook."

"A rival!" cried Tim, indignantly. "If I thought so, I'd shoulder a
musket myself, and go out to shoot the dirty villain. Here's the P.O.,
my boys! Peter! hold your noise. Jack's going to give me a history of
the fight."

"I know as much about it as Jack does," said Peter, in an injured tone,
as they entered the office.

"Then I'll let you put in a word here and there," replied his friend,
in a kind tone. "Why, Peter, I'd do anything to please you. Didn't I
think you were knocked out of time, entirely. Manuel, are the wires
right?"

"Yes, Señor," replied the operator, a dark alert-looking man; "all safe
to Truxillo!"

"Bueno! Then they will be safe to England. Truxillo is in Honduras, and
is as right as the Bank. Come, Jack, begin at once!"

They were over two hours at this business as, what with Jack's
roundabout descriptions and Peter's interruptions, it took some time
for Tim to get the story ship-shape. Then Manuel was constantly wiring
the intelligence, as transmitted to him by Tim, who took full advantage
of the licence given by his editor to send extensive telegrams. It was
close on six o'clock when he finished, and he was just stretching
himself with a yawn after his long spell of sitting, when outside a
murmur began. It rapidly swelled into a roar and the three friends
rushed out of the office to learn what new event had taken place. The
telegraph-office was situated in the street which ran straight to the
land-gate, and down this street they saw advancing a dense body of men.

"Vivas los soldatos! Viva el Republico!"

"Hurrah!" roared Tim, wildly, "'tis the reinforcements!"

"There's Philip!" cried Jack, pushing his way through the crowd.

"And wounded!" said Peter, noticing with a true professional eye that
Cassim's left arm hung useless by his side.

The Janjalla Band, stationed in the Plaza, burst out into the patriotic
strains of the "Opal Fandango," the crowd yelled and cheered, the
soldiers tramped steadily down the street; and Tim, to the imminent
danger of his life, flung himself almost under the feet of Philip's
horse.

"Philip, my dear boy! Here we are."

"Tim! Jack! Thank God!" cried Philip, and urging his horse a little way
to the side, jumped down from the saddle.

Tim gripped one hand, Jack the other, and Peter patted the baronet on
the back. Philip looked worn and haggard, and winced as Tim seized his
left hand.

"Are you wounded?" cried Tim, letting it go.

"Yes; but not badly! An Indian arrow through the fleshy part of the
arm."

"Ah!" exclaimed Jack, anxiously, "then Cocom was right. You have been
attacked by Indians."

"Two days ago! They surprised our camp by night, and came in in
overwhelming force. Velez was unable to rally his men, and we were
forced to retreat to Centeotl."

"And how many men have you brought, Philip?"

"Six hundred!"

"And one thousand started from Tlatonac," said Jack, sadly; "four
hundred killed. Thank God, Philip, you at least are safe."




CHAPTER II.

THE FALL OF JANJALLA.

    They mount the ramparts, and they man the walls,
    Resolved to keep the climbing foe at bay,
    The hot-mouthed cannon hurl a thousand balls,
    A thousand swords flash forth to wound and slay.
    Down in the fosse the planted ladder falls,
    And smoke sulphurous spreads its veil of grey;
    Like incense from an altar up it rolls,
    To tell the war-god that a thousand souls
    Are to his honour sacrificed this day.

    Oh, Mars! Oh, red Bellona! he or she,
    Though fallen your shrines, we bend yet 'neath your yoke;
    Born later than the Greeks, we seem to be
    Not much more civilised than were those folk,
    Instead of spears, and shields, and cutlery,
    Revolvers, rifles, guns, spit fire and smoke.
    For ye, blood-thirsty pair, we yet retain
    Our ancient love, and hence on battle plain
    With myriad victims we your names invoke.


The siege of Janjalla lasted five days, and during that period the
town was completely invested by the troops of Xuarez. As had been
foreseen by him, the _Columbus_, acting as a decoy, had drawn away the
ships of the Junta from protecting the harbour, and that same night
Xuarez, under cover of darkness, landed four thousand troops from his
transports. By an inconceivable oversight on the part of the
engineers, the city walls were unprovided with search-lights and
electric apparatus, so Don Hypolito was enabled to land boat-load
after boat-load of men without hindrance. By dawn six thousand men
were encamped on the beach, under the very guns of the forts.

Had Xuarez attacked the capital, he would have been easily repulsed,
for in Tlatonac all the latest inventions for defence were to be found.
Krupp's guns pointed from the forts, powerful electric lights swept the
harbour, and the bed of the ocean in front of the sea-line was one vast
mass of torpedoes. The flower of the Cholacacan army were behind the
walls, armed with the latest invented rifles, and altogether a siege of
the capital would have lasted months. Don Hypolito, however, was too
crafty to waste his time so fruitlessly, and artfully attacked the
Republic in her weakest part.

Janjalla was but ill defended by walls and cannon and but ill
garrisoned with capable men. By throwing on the devoted town an
overwhelming mass of troops he could hope to capture it within a few
days. Then making it his head-quarters, could gradually advance along
the plain towards the capital, eating up a town at every twenty miles.
He was already master of Acauhtzin in the north, and if he could only
reduce Janjalla and the four inland towns, he would be in complete
command of the whole inner country. Then, besieging Tlatonac by land
and sea, he could starve the capital into surrender.

Promptness was Xuarez' great characteristic, and so rapidly had he
accomplished the transference of active operations from north to south
that he had completely taken the Junta by surprise. It was a fatal
mistake on the part of the Governmental party in leaving such an
incapable man as Gomez at the head of affairs. If, relying on the
strength of the capital to protect herself, he had sent all his
available soldiers to garrison Janjalla and defeat the rebels before
they could get a footing in the south, he would have probably crushed
the rebellion in the bud. Victorious in the lower part of the country,
he could have then reduced Acauhtzin at his leisure, and thus ended the
war within a few weeks.

Unfortunately, Gomez lost his head at the critical period, and proved
himself quite unable to cope with the masterly activity of the rebel
leader. First of all, he committed the mistake of not concentrating his
troops at Janjalla, and then sent a few hundreds of men down at a time.
General Gigedo therefore found himself shut up in Janjalla with
scarcely a thousand troops, few guns, and insufficient ammunition. The
telegraph-wires having been cut, he was unable to communicate promptly
with the capital, and being in urgent need of reinforcements, was in
absolute despair as to what would occur in the near future. It was true
that Gomez had promised another thousand men in ten days; but, even if
they arrived earlier, it would be too late, as with the small garrison
at his disposal, it was impossible that he could hold out against a
force of six thousand for any lengthened period.

He would have sent messengers to Tlatonac for aid, but the troops of
Don Hypolito completely encircled the city, and it was worse than
useless to try and break through that girdle of steel. He held a
council of war, but no decision could be arrived at, save that Janjalla
should hold out, if possible, until reinforcements arrived from the
capital. Day after day Gigedo and his staff swept the ocean with their
glasses, looking for the torpederas and the cruiser. None of them
appeared, and it could only be conjectured that they had captured
_The Columbus_, and taken her at once to Tlatonac, in the harbour
of which they were now doubtless lying.

Meanwhile, the garrison fought with desperate valour, and with great
difficulty managed to keep the rebels at bay, but it could be easily
seen that such a state of things could not last. On the fourth day
preparations were made by Xuarez for a final assault, and everyone
instinctively guessed that the end had come. _The Cortes_ was lying
with the transports out of range of the fort-guns, and, by means of
their glasses, those shut up in the town could see that the warship
was making ready to bombard the city.

Don Hypolito had come south again, with his new troops, and could be
now seen riding about the camp with a brilliant staff, seeing that all
things were ready for the assault. Jack, who, in company with Philip,
was leaning over the ramparts, noted the audacious rebel, and remarked
on his presence before the walls of Janjalla.

"There goes the brain of the rebellion," he said touching Philip on the
shoulder. "If he could only be disposed of, the war would be over."

"No doubt. But Xuarez knows his own value too well, and will therefore
keep out of danger. He has evidently made up his mind to finish the
siege to-day."

"Unless help comes, I think he will succeed," replied Jack, gloomily.
"I cannot conceive what the President or Maraquando can be thinking
about to thus neglect Janjalla. If this town falls into the hands of
Xuarez, as it must do, unless a miracle takes place, Don Francisco will
find the war longer than he expects."

"Gomez is a fool," said Philip, stamping his foot. "What the deuce is
the use of keeping all the army in the capital? There must be ten
thousand soldiers shut up in Tlatonac, and his Excellency evidently
intends to keep them there till Xuarez and his victorious troops arrive
before the walls."

"Very likely the Indians are before the walls now, and are waiting for
Xuarez to join them."

"It's not improbable. Things don't look promising for the Junta, and
all because they let Gomez muddle the business. See, the rebels are
marching up to the sea-gate. It is now noon. Before sundown they will
be within the walls, and masters of the city."

"What about the garrison?"

"Their lives depend on the caprice of Xuarez," said Philip, after a
pause. "He may let Gigedo march out with the remains of his troop, or
massacre every one of us."

"I don't intend to be massacred," replied Jack, dryly; "and, what is
more, I don't intend to be seen by Xuarez. He must know by this time,
through his spies, that I escaped from Totatzine, but he is probably
ignorant that I am in Janjalla. I must escape unseen, Philip, else he
will send me back to be slaughtered by Ixtlilxochitli."

"Hardly, Jack, while Tim is at hand!"

"What do you mean?"

"Don Hypolito," said Philip, sagely, "wishes to stand well with the
world. Tim is the medium through which his actions are reported to the
world. Were he to send an Englishman to be offered up by savages to a
barbaric deity, there would be trouble with England. Xuarez can't
afford to risk that, so he will let you go free."

"He didn't do that in Acauhtzin."

"In Acauhtzin, my friend, you were supposed by us to be killed in the
riot. He could do as he pleased with one, who, to the world was
practically a non-existing person. Here it is different. You are alive,
you are with your friends, one of whom is a correspondent of a great
English journal. He dare not seize you for his own ends in broad
daylight. No, my dear Jack, while we are beside you, Xuarez will think
twice before repeating his treachery of Acauhtzin. He will have to look
for a new victim for Ixtlilxochitli."

"I fervently hope and trust so," answered Jack, looking at his revolver
to see that it was loaded. "And now I suppose we had better go to the
Plaza. The troops must be assembling just now. Hark! there goes the
trumpet. Where is Tim?"

"In the telegraph-office, with Peter, wiring news to his paper."

"Poor Peter," said Duval, as they left the ramparts; "he came here to
collect beetles, and finds himself plunged into an unpleasant war."

"Never mind. There's nothing like experience, Jack. Peter will recount
his deeds of valour, even unto the third generation. We will come out
safe in the end. You will marry Dolores, I Eulalia, and all will be gas
and gaiters, _videlicet_ Nicholas Nickleby."

Philip's gaiety was infectious, and Jack burst out laughing at his last
remark. They had no time, however, for further conversation, as the
trumpets were calling loudly in the Plaza, and they hurried to that
portion of the town to find the troops rapidly falling in. General
Gigedo made a speech to encourage his soldiers, assuring them that he
had communicated with Tlatonac, and that relief would shortly come to
the besieged town.

"Is that true, or a lie?" asked Jack of Don Sebastian, who stood beside
him.

"True," replied the Spaniard, smiling. "This morning carrier pigeons
were sent to his Excellency with messages of our deplorable state. We
shall certainly be relieved in a few days."

"A few days!" echoed Philip, with a sneer. "My dear Señor de Ahumada, a
few hours will see our troops evacuating Janjalla."

"If we are forced to do that, Señor, we can fall back on Centeotl."

"What, with a few hundred men, and the Indians scouring the country?"

"They are further north."

"I assure you they are not," replied Cassim, emphatically. "We were
attacked near Centeotl, and by this time the savages are between that
town and this. Señor de Ahumada, I assure you that if we evacuate
Janjalla, we shall fall into the hands of the Indians."

"Dios!" cried Don Sebastian, suddenly. "_The Cortes_ has started
bombarding." Even as he spoke a bomb burst in the air directly over the
Plaza. At once Gigedo gave the signal to the troops to march to the
ramparts. In the distance they could hear the fierce cries of the
rebels as they marched out of camp, and a tremour passed through the
whole of the city as those within its walls recognised the desperate
state of affairs. Bomb after bomb exploded with deafening noises, the
troops manned the walls, the besiegers hurled themselves against the
sea-gate and planted ladders against the walls. The assault had
commenced. It was the beginning of the end.

The full force at the disposal of General Gigedo, excluding the sick
and wounded, amounted to some nine hundred men. He divided this into
two portions: five hundred held the sea-facing portion of the town,
four hundred were stationed at the inland gate. Xuarez attacked the two
gates of the town simultaneously, and trusted, in the event of entering
at either portal, to be enabled to attack the loyalists in the rear,
and thus crush them between two armies.

On the ramparts it was not so difficult to keep the foe back as it was
below. They planted ladders, and these were hurled with their burden
of climbing men into the ditch below. An incessant fusillade of
musketry crackled along the walls, and the cannon with depressed
muzzles hurled their balls with more or less damaging effect into the
dense throng massed on the beach below. The bombs from _The Cortes_
did their deadly work skilfully, and the besiegers kept themselves as
widely apart as possible, so as to neutralise the effect of the shells
on compact masses.

It was outside the sea-gate, however, that the siege was pressed most
hardly. Xuarez had cannon planted at the gate, to break down, if
possible, the huge wooden valves, clamped with iron. Through the
loop-holes low down in the walls the besiegers fired incessantly,
killing the rebel gunners as they strove to discharge the cannon. Above
the city hung a thick cloud of grey smoke, and at intervals, through
the misty veil, flared the red flame of a bomb bursting overhead. The
rattle of musketry, the booming of cannon, the cries of the wounded,
the shouts of besieged and besiegers, all made an infernal din
deafening to the ear.

Tim and Peter were at the land-gate in company with Captain Velez and
Colonel Garibay, while Jack and Philip fought side by side in repelling
the attack from the sea front. After an incessant cannonading lasting
two hours, the rebels managed to smash the gates down with their
artillery, and rushed in only to find themselves confronted by a dense
mass of resolute soldiery.

From the sea-gate the street arose suddenly, and on the top of the
incline Gigedo had planted cannon which cut lanes in the throng of
rebels pressing through the gate. At last the battle resolved itself
into a hand-to-hand fight in which the loyalists strove to beat back
the rebel forces from the gate. Xuarez saw this, and signalled to _The
Cortes_ to stand in closer and drop her shells into the centre of the
besieged. At once the warship did as she was commanded, and in a few
moments bombs were creating fearful havoc in the ranks of the
loyalists. In answer, the guns of the forts speedily opened fire on
the warship, but did little damage, as the besiegers were too busily
occupied in repelling the foe as they swarmed up the walls, to take
careful aim.

What with the dense crowd pressing from without, the loss of men caused
by the incessant bursting of the bombs in their midst, the loyalists
began to fall back, and, in spite of the most desperate resistance,
were thrust beyond the line of cannon at the top of the street. A horde
of rebel soldiery rushed inside the gate, and proceeded to scale the
ramparts in order to aid their comrades who were climbing the outer
walls, and to silence the guns playing on _The Cortes_.

Skilfully making use of all material he found to hand, Xuarez turned
the cannon taken from the loyalists on themselves. In the hurried
retreat, they had been unable to spike the guns, and now these, loaded
and fired by the rebels, were mowing them down in dozens. The soldiers
on the ramparts were either killed or beaten back, and the whole of the
sea front of Janjalla was in complete possession of Xuarez. One comfort
had the loyalists, namely, that they were protected in the rear by
their men defending the land-gate.

Shortly, however, a roar of rage, and the cheers of the besiegers
announced that the town was captured on that side. The soldiers
retreated towards the Plaza in the centre of the town, and there found
their comrades who had fallen back from the sea-gate. Here there was
this handful of men shut up in the square, surrounded on all sides by
the victorious rebels. They could not possibly hold out long against
the dense masses converging to that centre from all parts of the town,
and it could be easily seen that the siege was practically over.

During the fighting night had fallen, and now the battle was going on
in the dim twilight, rendered still darker by the heavily hanging
clouds of smoke enwrapping the town. Jack had received a nasty cut on
the shoulder; but Philip was unwounded, and in the general scrimmage
they managed to keep well together. When beaten back into the Plaza,
they made for the telegraph-office, where they hoped to find Tim and
Peter. This was the rendezvous appointed by Tim in case the battle went
in favour of the rebels, as he wished to send a final message to his
paper before clearing out of the town. With a handful of men,
principally those belonging to their own regiment, Philip and Jack
managed to throw themselves into the telegraph-office, and shortly
afterwards were joined by Tim.

"Where's Peter?" asked Jack, as he saw the huge form of his friend
dashing through the door.

"Just behind, with Don Sebastian," gasped Tim, throwing himself into a
chair. "It's all up, boys; the Opposidores are in full possession of
the land-gate."

"And the sea-gate also," said Philip, who was reloading his revolver.
"All our men are in the Plaza, and can't hold out much longer. Whew!
there's another bomb."

"We'd better get out of Janjalla, and make for Centeotl," cried Don
Sebastian, entering with his sword smashed in two; "all is over!"

"Gigedo?"

"Killed! Garibay is wounded, and taken prisoner!"

"Where is Don Pedro?"

"Here I am," cried Peter, darting into the room and closing the door.
"There's a regiment of rebels cutting their way through the crowd to
take the telegraph-office. Xuarez has particularly commanded it."

"Anyhow, I'll have time to send another telegram, if I die for it,"
said Tim, who was hastily scribbling notes. "Where's Manuel?"

Manuel had vanished; so Tim, with a growl, sat down to work the
instrument himself.

"Keep those devils out, with your men," he said to Philip, who was
barricading the windows with Jack. "I'll send one telegram, saying
Janjalla has fallen, and then we'll go off."

"How the devil are we to get away?" asked Philip, angrily.

"Easily. The cavalry barracks are behind here. We'll get round by the
back way and seize the horses, then cut our way out by the land-gate.
Once across the river, and we are safe."

Philip did not wait for the conclusion of this speech, but, with a few
men, dashed out at the back of the house to see if the horses were
still there. Jack would have followed, but Peter stopped him.

"I have my medicine-chest here. Let me bind up your shoulder." Jack was
unwilling, protesting he did not feel the wound.

"Bosh, my dear boy, you are excited. You will feel it afterwards. If we
are to ride to Centeotl, you will need all the blood you have. Don
Sebastian can hold the telegraph-office."

Don Sebastian had posted his men at the windows, and was firing at the
mass of rebels, now trying to take the house by storm. All this time
Tim was working the instrument and wiring the news of the fall of the
city to his editor. Through the yells outside, the rattle of the
musketry, and the curses of Don Sebastian could be heard the incessant
click, click, click of the telegraph-instrument.

A bomb exploded on the roof of the house, and a few yards of plaster
fell from the ceiling. Peter had finished binding up Jack's wound, and
now they were both defending the windows and doors of the mansion.

"How long, Jack?"

"In two minutes the door will be down," cried Jack. "Do leave that
d----d instrument, Tim, and look for Philip."

"I'll go!" said Peter, as Tim refused to leave his post. He turned to
make for the back way, when Philip came back with a radiant face.

"Here is a dozen horses just outside, all saddled and fresh as daisies!
Come, Tim, quick! Jack. De Ahumada."

"A moment," said Tim, and went on with his clicking.

Crash! The door was down, and a number of fierce faces appeared at the
door. The room was full of smoke, and the rebels were firing freely
through the windows. Sebastian and his men threw themselves in front of
those trying to face the door, and Philip, seizing Tim by the shoulder,
dragged him away from the instrument.

"Tim, you cursed fool. Come along!"

"Just a second!"

He turned back to the instrument in spite of Philip's protest, but had
just clicked twice when Don Sebastian and his men were forced back and
a crowd of the enemy rushed into the room. Philip, Jack, and Peter had
already disappeared through the back, and Tim was left alone with Don
Sebastian and the soldiers. The rebels threw themselves forward with
yells of delight, when Tim, catching up a heavy table, flung it fair on
the advancing mass, then bolted through the back door, dragging Don
Sebastian after him. Two of the soldiers followed, and promptly closed
the door when on the right side. At once the rebels commenced to beat
it down with the butts of their rifles, but the Irishman and his friend
had reached the back street.

Here they found their friends already mounted and waiting for them.

"Tim. De Ahumada! Mount at once!" cried Philip, pointing to three
horses waiting under the shelter of the wall. "Make for the land-gate,
and straight for the river."

In another moment they were clattering towards the lower part of the
town, keeping close together for safety. The street down which they
were riding was quite deserted, as the fighting was principally
confined to the main thoroughfares of the town. They could hear the
brisk fire of musketry still kept up, the booming of the cannon, and
the bursting of the shells. Shrieks of women, and yells of the victors
broke incessantly through these noises, and the whole city was draped
in a thick veil of stinking smoke.

"Oh, those poor women!" cried Philip, as he spurred his horse towards
the gate. "Now they are in the clutches of those fiends."

"I'm glad we're not," muttered Dr. Grench, thankfully.

"Anyhow," said Tim, cheerfully, "I've sent the fall of the city to the
paper."

"Oh, hang your paper," said Jack, whose wound was making him fractious.
"Come along, De Ahumada."

"Dios! How we have been beaten."

Suddenly the street turned a sharp angle, and they found themselves
before the gate. Most of the attacking party had marched towards the
centre of the town to complete their victory, and only a few scattered
soldiery were on guard. These yelled loudly as they saw the small party
dash towards the gate. The valves were broken down; beyond was the
country, and between this and safety was but a score of men.

Philip drew his sword, spurred his horse to its full speed, and made
for the gate, cutting down a man who tried to stay him. Jack emptied
two barrels of his revolver, and killed one man, wounding another. The
rebel soldiers fired freely, and breaking Sebastian's arm, also tumbled
one of his company off his horse. Tim seizing Peter's bridle-rein,
galloped wildly through the spare crowd, cursing freely.

In their rush for the portal, they scattered them all. There were a few
musket-shots, a howl of rage from the disappointed rebels, and at top
speed they tore out of the gate, and made for the open country.

"Twenty miles," cried Philip, settling himself in his saddle. "We can
do that easily. Hurrah!"

"Provided we don't fall into the hands of the Indians," said Jack,
sagely.

As for Don Sebastian, he turned round and shook his fist at Janjalla.

"Carajo!"




CHAPTER III.

THE FLIGHT TO TLATONAC.

    Boot and saddle, away! away!
    We must be far e'er the breaking of day.
      The standard is down,
      The foe's in the town,
    Forbidding us longer to stay, to stay.

    Boot and saddle! we ride! we ride!
    Over the prairie land side by side,
      Our foemen behind,
      Speed swift as the wind,
    And gain on us steadily, stride by stride.

    Boot and saddle! so fast! so fast!
    We ride till the river be crossed and past;
      Then over the plain,
      With loose-hanging rein,
    And find ourselves safe in the town at last.


Before them spread the plains, flat and desolate-looking, covered with
coarse grass, and stretching towards the horizon in vague immensity.
West-ward the faint flush of sunset, delicately pale, lingered low
down, but otherwise the sky was coldly clear, darkly blue, thick
sprinkled with chill-looking stars. To the right the leaden-hued waters
of the river moving sluggishly between low mud banks, and on the left
sandy wastes, alternating with hillocks and convex-shaped mounds. All
this desolation appearing ghostly under a veil of mist exhaled whitely
from the hot earth.

Over these monotonous plains galloped the six fugitives. Philip and
Jack in the van, Don Sebastian and his one soldier in the rear; between
Tim, side by side with Peter. For some time they urged on their horses
in silence. Then a sudden flare of crimson caused them to turn in their
saddles. The low walls of Janjalla were crowned with smoke, beneath
which leaped tongues of flame, crimson and yellow. A rapid, disjointed
conversation ensued.

"Those brutes are burning the city!"

"It will only be some drunken soldiers. Xuarez will soon put a stop to
that. He cannot afford to lose his city of refuge, after paying so much
to gain it."

"Must we swim our horses across the river?" called out Grench,
unexpectedly.

"Not unless the bridge is down. It was standing when we came this way a
week ago."

Philip answered the question, and then cast an anxious look at the sky.

"I wish the moon would rise," he said disconsolately; "we need some
light."

"What the deuce would be the good of that when we're on the high-road.
Hang it, the moon would only show Xuarez how to follow us."

"Que dici?" asked Don Sebastian, looking at Jack.

"The Señor Correspoñsal thinks we might be pursued."

"I doubt it, Don Juan. Xuarez will be too busy checking the excesses of
his soldiers. Besides, Señor, as we escaped in the confusion, it may be
that we will not be missed for some hours."

Peter, unaccustomed to riding, began to feel sore with this incessant
galloping, and raised his voice in protest.

"I hope we will be able to rest at Centeotl. When do we reach it?"

"Before midnight, probably. Then we will rest till dawn, get fresh
horses, and push on to Tlatonac."

"Hope we'll get there," muttered Jack, shaking his reins. "But if the
Indians----"

"Deuce take the Indians," retorted Philip, irritably. "Come on Jack,
and don't worry so much."

Their horses were fortunately quite fresh, having been mewed up in
Janjalla without exercise for some weeks. Stretching their necks, they
clattered along at a breakneck speed. The road was as hard as flint,
and their iron-shod hoofs struck out sparks from the loose stones. The
riders, with their heads bent against the wind whizzing past their
ears, let the reins hang loosely, and pressed on with blind trust along
the highway leading to Centeotl.

Here and there they passed a flat-roofed house, deserted by its
occupants, and standing up lonely, a white splotch amid the vague gloom
of its flat acreage. Clumps of trees loomed suddenly against the clear
sky, at times a ragged aloe sprang spectral-like from the reddish soil,
thorny thickets lay densely in the hollows, tall spear-grass waved on
the tops of undulating drifts of sand, and at intervals an oasis of
rank herbage would frame an oval pool thickly fringed with reeds.

The road wound onward, turning now to right, now to left, dipping into
hollows, curving over eminences, stretching white and dusty towards the
horizon like a crooked winding river. On either side they could mark
the moving forms of animals, flying from the clatter of their horses'
hoofs, cattle, vicuñas, llamas, and flocks of sheep. The white peak of
Xicotencatl arose suddenly like a ghost from the shadows of forests
lying heavily along the verge of earth between plain and sky. A thin
vapour lay white over the plain, and gathered thickly along the banks
of the river. The horses stretched their necks and neighed loudly. They
smelt the water of the stream.

"The bridge is down!" cried Jack, drawing rein at the verge of the
stream. "Indians!"

"Or Xuarez!" added Philip, gravely. "I suspect the latter. Indians are
not sufficiently civilised to destroy bridges."

The _débris_ of the bridge impeded the current, and here the waters
boiled white amid the black ruins. Jagged posts stretched in black rows
to the other side of the stream, but there was no foothold left by
which they could cross dry-shod.

"Swim!" said Tim, briefly, and sent his steed down the bank. The others
followed, and in a few minutes the surface of the stream was dotted
with black figures. The river being sluggish, with little or no
current, they found no difficulty in crossing, and speedily gained the
opposite bank. Climbing the slope on to the flat land, they regained
the line of road, and once more urged their horses to full speed.

The moon arose, round and bright, making the whole scene cheerful with
her kindly light. The fugitives looked back, but could see no sign of
pursuit. Even the town had vanished. Behind, before, lay nothing but
the immensity of the plains. It was as though they were in the midst of
a leaden-hued sea. The appearance of the moon raised their spirits, and
they redoubled their speed. Centeotl was now comparatively near. The
ground began to show signs of cultivation. Hedges of cacti ran along
the sides of the road, bearing fleshly looking flowers of tawny gold.
Right and left stretched gardens, environing country houses, and before
them arose a white line of wall.

"Centeotl!" cried Don Sebastian, pushing forward.

The gates were closed owing to the fear of the townspeople lest the
Indians should make a night attack. De Ahumada galloped on ahead, and
reined his horse immediately under the walls. At intervals the
sentinels called the one to the other, "Centinella alerte," to show
that they were awake. The noise of the approaching horses brought them
to the walls.

"Quien vive!"

"Amigos! From Janjalla."

The red light of torches glared from the low battlements, and in a few
minutes the gates were opened. The officer in charge recognised Don
Sebastian, and was much depressed at learning Janjalla had fallen.

"Dios! It is Centeotl next that Xuarez will capture," he said,
disconsolately, and then led the fugitives to the house of the Jefe
Politico.

That individual received them kindly, and gave them food and beds. He
also promised them horses for the next morning, to push on to Tlatonac,
but feared lest they should fall into the hands of the Indians, whom he
believed were further north. The telegraph-wires between Centeotl and
Hermanita had been destroyed by the savages. His town was now quite
isolated in the plains. Only five hundred men were within its walls,
and he expected it would be shortly besieged and captured by Don
Hypolito, unless aid arrived from the capital.

During the night straggling parties of soldiers arrived from Janjalla
for refuge. All brought the same tale. Janjalla was nearly in ruins, as
the rebels had fired many houses, and the bombs and cannon had smashed
others. Xuarez had kept all his men in the town, and was doing his best
to reduce them to order; but many were beyond his control. There was no
pursuit in any case. It was reported that he would throw forward two
regiments of cavalry next day, to attack Centeotl.

"Santissima!" said the Jefe, in despair; "we are lost, Señores. When
you arrive at Tlatonac, tell his Excellency that I am faithful to the
Junta, but that my town is too weak to hold out against the rebels."

De Ahumada promised and shortly afterwards, thoroughly worn out, they
all composed themselves to sleep. It was impossible, however, to get
much repose, as the constant arrival of fugitives, the clattering of
horses through the streets, and the murmur of many voices, kept them
awake. At dawn they were up at once, mounted fresh horses, and rode
away from the town in the direction of Hermanita, twenty miles away.

They reached that town in two hours, and found the inhabitants in a
state of terror. The Indians had been threatening for the last week,
and had been scouring the country to the south. Now they had gone
north, and, it was believed, with the intention of making an attack on
the Puebla de los Naranjos. Nor did the news brought by Jack and his
friends reassure them in any way. What with the Indians in the north,
and Xuarez threatening them in the south, there was no doubt that
Hermanita was in a terrible fix. As had Centeotl, they also implored
Don Sebastian to ask Gomez to send aid, lest they should fall victims
to the rebels or to the Indians.

After taking a hurried meal, the fugitives once more proceeded on their
way to the north. Towards noon they struck Puebla de los Naranjos, and
found it a heap of ruins. Undefended as were the other towns by stone
walls, the town was surrounded by orange groves, and had therefore been
easily captured by the Indians. A few terrified survivors crept about
the ruins of their houses, the streets were thick with dead bodies, and
the whole place presented a scene of unexampled desolation. Those folks
who survived said that the Indians had plundered the town two days
previously, and had then departed with the intention of taking
Chichimec. As this city was only distant twenty miles from the capital,
the little party was quite appalled at the audacity of the savages. It
showed how little they cared for the power of the Republic.

"If Gomez had crushed this rebellion at once, all would have been
well," said Jack, as they rode from the smoking ruins of Puebla de los
Naranjos; "but now it seems as though the Indians and Xuarez were going
to have it all their own way."

"Gomez should have placed the command of affairs in the hands of a
competent man, and not meddled with them," replied Philip, impatiently.
"He keeps all his army in the capital, and lets the country be laid
waste. The end will be that all the inland towns will join with Xuarez,
and the capital will be besieged. With the whole of Cholacaca against
it, the capital must fall."

"Unless the Junta can capture or sink the two remaining warships of
Xuarez," said Don Sebastian, who was fearfully enraged at the
destruction of the country.

"True! Then Xuarez won't be able to get more troops from Acauhtzin."

"He has got quite enough troops, as it is to make things unpleasant for
the capital," said Tim, in Spanish, for the benefit of Don Sebastian.
"Six thousand at Janjalla--five thousand Indians. Quite enough to
invest the town. The Junta has but eight thousand troops in Tlatonac."

"Well, that's a good number!"

"Yes; but what with his own troops and the savages, Xuarez has three
thousand to the good. Besides which, he is a capable general."

"If the Indians could only be detached from his cause, the rebellion
might be crushed," said Jack, ponderingly. "It is the only way of
saving the present Government."

"There is no chance of doing that," replied Tim, disconsolately. "The
Indians are mad about the loss of the opal, and will fight like fiends
to get it back."

"Perhaps they can be quietened by means of the opal!"

"Dios!" exclaimed Sebastian, turning in his saddle. "What mean you,
Señor?"

"I have an idea," replied Jack, quietly. "It was suggested to me by a
remark of Cocom's."

"And this idea?"

"I will not tell you at present, lest I should fail to carry it out,
and thus disappoint your hopes. Wait till we reach Tlatonac."

"If we ever do get there," muttered Philip, savagely. "Now we are half
way to Chichimec, gentlemen. There, according to report, the Indians
are camped. I vote we make a detour, and reach Tlatonac in some other
way. Do you know of a road, Don Sebastian?"

"No, Señor. I know not this country."

"I do!" cried Duval, suddenly. "I have been all over this portion. That
is a good idea of yours, Philip! We must avoid the Indians. I know a
road!"

"Bueno! Take the lead."

It was fortunate, indeed, that Philip suggested such an idea, and that
Jack's knowledge of the country enabled them to carry it out, else they
would assuredly have fallen into the hands of the Indians. Making a
detour towards the coast, they managed to avoid Chichimec by some
miles. They learned from a peon, whom they met making his way to
Tlatonac, that the town was entirely invested by the savages, but that
as yet, thanks to the strong walls, they had been unable to effect an
entrance. The Jefe Politico had sent this peon to the capital with a
request for immediate aid from Don Francisco.

"What, in God's name, can the President be thinking about?" cried Jack,
on hearing this intelligence. "He is simply playing into the hands of
his enemies."

"Things certainly look bad for the Junta, owing to his negligence.
Janjalla captured by Xuarez. Puebla de los Naranjos ravaged, Chichimec
invested. Perhaps, when the whole country is in the hands of Don
Hypolito, this very wise ruler will bestir himself."

"Wait till I have a conversation with Don Miguel!" muttered Jack,
striking the spurs into his horse. "We are outsiders, and cannot
interfere with local politics; but it makes me sick to see how Gomez is
fooling away his chances. If I can only rouse Don Miguel into making
things hot for the President, I shall do so!"

"A house divided against itself----" began Peter; but Tim cut him
short.

"Hold your tongue, Peter. Jack is quite right. Unless a good man is put
at the head of affairs, Don Hypolito will enter Tlatonac within the
month. It's a mighty black look-out for the Government. Don Francisco
ought to be shunted at once."

The peon ran alongside them, and kept up with their horses in the most
wonderful manner. It was noon when they left Puebla de los Naranjos,
and it was now late at night. In ten hours they had come nearly fifty
miles. Their horses were quite worn out, owing to the incessant
galloping. Now they were within a mile of the capital, and already, in
the dim light, could see the line of walls looming in the distance.
They were glad it was dark, or, rather, comparatively so, as it
afforded them a certain amount of protection from wandering Indian
scouts.

"The luck holds!" said Philip, thankfully, as they rode towards the
Puerta de la Culebra. "We have not seen a single savage since we left
Janjalla."

"Had it not been for your forethought, Philip, they would have had our
scalps by this time."

"My thought, but your actions, Jack. It was lucky you knew the
country."

"A mutual admiration society, you are!" cried Tim, whose spirits were
wonderfully light. "How do you feel, Peter?"

"Worn out," replied the doctor, laconically.

"Faith. I'm not astonished. I'm bumped to death also. A hundred miles
isn't bad for an inferior rider like myself."

"Oh, you are a war correspondent," began Peter, fretfully, when his
remarks were cut short by an exclamation from Sebastian.

"Dios! the gates are open! Soldiers are coming out!"

"Reinforcements for Janjalla. I've no doubt," said Philip, grimly.
"They are a trifle late. Come, gentlemen, let us see the officer in
charge."

They urged their jaded horses towards the gate. At the sight of the
little party, the soldiers halted, and an officer rode to the front.

"From whence come you, Señores?" he asked in surprise.

"From Janjalla."

"Janjalla? Why, we are just marching thither, Señor."

"You can spare yourself the trouble!" replied Jack, grimly. "Janjalla
has fallen."

The news passed rapidly from mouth to mouth, and a cry of rage went up
from the throng.

"Moreover," added Jack, quietly. "Puebla de los Naranjos has been
attacked and sacked by the Indians!"

Another cry of rage.

"And," concluded this bearer of bad news, "Chichimec is now invested by
six thousand savages."

A low murmur of dismay ran through the lines. Calamity after calamity
seemed to be falling on the heads of the Government. Suddenly a man
rode through the gate at full speed, and pulling up his horse on its
haunches, as he faced the party, made the same inquiry as had the
officer.

"Janjalla," cried Don Miguel Maraquando.

Jack uttered the same reply.

"Janjalla has fallen!"




CHAPTER IV.

EXIT DON FRANCISCO GOMEZ.

    Depart, incapable!
    You are no pilot to be at the helm when the ship is in
        danger;
    The vessel of state labours in the turmoil of troublous
        waters,
    Rocks this side, that side, she is drifting to leeward,
        shoals threaten her stout timbers.
    Round her rage the tempests which would sink her in waves
        of blood;
    Only a skilful captain can pilot her into a safe haven.
    You are not a skilful commander!
    In fair weather you guided the ship in a meritorious fashion;
    Now, when blow rebellious storms, you are not fit for the
        steering; the danger renders you helpless--a child were
        a better helmsman;
    No longer can you hold the ship of Republican fortunes in her
        right course.
    Captain! President! you are Captain--President no longer!
    Depart! give way to one who can steer with clear head and
        keen eye.
    Depart, incapable!


"Dear one!" cried Dolores, as Jack embraced her, in the patio. "At last
do I see you once more. Santissima! how pale! What ragged clothes! and
beards on all your faces."

"Indeed, Dolores, a siege is not conducive to luxury. But we will go to
my house; bath, shave, and dress. When we return, you will behold us as
civilised beings."

"You are wounded!"

"It is nothing--a mere scratch. How delighted I am to see your dear
face once more, my Dolores."

Eulalia put out her hand timidly under the shelter of her fan, and
touched Philip gently on the hand. She was unable to do more, as Doña
Serafina, severe, and vigilant, was present. Their engagement had not
yet been made public.

"Querido," she murmured, looking at her lover tenderly. "Constantly
have I prayed for thee."

Philip kissed her hand, and then that of Doña Serafina, to avert
suspicion. The old lady was voluble, and after the first greetings were
over, burst forth into speech with much dramatic gesture.

"Alas, señores! How sad look you all. Don Pedro! Pobrecito! And the
city is in the hands of the rebels. Ay di mi! Ah, the evil ones! Yet,
if they win on land, they lose at sea."

"What is it you say, Señora?" asked Tim, ever on the alert for news.

"Have you not heard, Señor Correspoñsal? No; you have been away.
Gracios á Dios! The torpederas have captured _The Columbus_."

"Bravo!" cried Jack, delightedly; "this is indeed good news! And
Rafael?"

"Rafael is here," said that young man, hastily entering the court. "Ah,
my dear friends, how delighted I am to behold you."

"Even though we bring bad news?"

"Yes; for I can tell you good. We followed _The Columbus_, and by
threatening to sink her with torpedoes, forced her to strike her flag.
Now she is lying in the harbour, with a crew of our own men. Her rebel
sailors are all in prison."

"What about _The Iturbide_?"

"She is there also, but in a crippled condition. One of her masts was
shot away by _The Columbus_ before she surrendered."

"And what do you do now?"

"Sail south to-morrow at dawn."

"Alas!" said Jack, sadly, "you will be too late to relieve Janjalla."

"Never mind," replied Rafael, hopefully; "we shall capture or sink
_The Cortes_, and bring her back to Tlatonac with the transports. Then
Don Hypolito will be irrevocably cut off from Acauhtzin."

"That does not matter to him," interposed Philip, overhearing this
remark; "he has most of his troops at Janjalla, and will simply hold
the south instead of the north."

"At all events, Señor Felipe, we have crushed him by sea."

"It will be a more difficult task to crush him by land, especially as
Don Francisco is so dilatory."

"Don Francisco! Don Francisco!" cried Rafael, stamping his foot with
rage. "He is not fit to be President. Through him have we lost
Janjalla. Even my father, who was his firm supporter, has turned
against him."

"What do you say, Rafael?"

"I cannot tell you yet; but there will be a stormy meeting of the Junta
to-morrow."

"You are going to depose Don Francisco."

"It's not improbable."

"More trouble," said Tim, reflectively. "There will be three Presidents
shortly. Don Francisco, Don Hypolito, and--Don Miguel!"

"No more, mi amigo," said Rafael, doubtful even in his own house. "It
is dangerous to speak like that--as yet."

He added the last words significantly, and turned away. Jack was saying
good night to Dolores, as he was quite worn out, and wanted to get back
to his own house for a good night's rest.

"Dolores," he whispered, as he held her hand; "you have yet the opal?"

"Yes; surely."

"Can you bear to part with it for the sake of the city?"

"You can do with it as you please, Juanito. But, what mean these
words?"

"I have a plan whereby I can detach the Indians from the cause of Don
Hypolito, and thus weaken his army. But the carrying out of the plan
may entail the loss of the opal."

"Let it go, so that it save Tlatonac," replied Dolores, heroically,
though, woman-like, she loved the jewel. "What is your plan?"

"I must see Cocom about it first. Then I will tell you my secret; but
now we must go. Adios, querida."

When the four friends left the Casa Maraquando, they were surprised to
find themselves followed by Maraquando and his son. On reaching Jack's
house, Don Miguel begged the Englishman to give him a few moments'
conversation, and explained how matters stood at Tlatonac.

It appeared that Maraquando's party were disgusted at the way in which
the war was being conducted by Don Francisco, and wanted him to resign
the Presidential chair. This Gomez was unwilling to do, and as he had
yet many supporters, it was doubtful if they could force him into such
a course. Now, however, that the news of the fall of Janjalla, the sack
of Puebla de los Naranjos, and the investment of Chichimec had arrived,
Don Miguel thought that he would be able to show plainly that the
continuance of Don Francisco as President meant ruin to the Government.

The next day there was to be a meeting of the Junta, and Maraquando,
explaining his designs to Jack, asked him for a full report of all that
had taken place in the south, so as to plainly prove the incapacity of
the President in conducting the war. The four friends thoroughly agreed
with Maraquando's view of the matter, and told him all that he wished
to know, after which they retired to rest. Don Miguel, on the contrary,
went back with Rafael to his own house, and there found a few members
of his party waiting him, whom he informed of the consequence of the
terrible series of blunders made by Gomez.

The next day there was a stormy debate of the Junta in the Palacio
Nacional.

"I blame his Excellency for all that has taken place," cried
Maraquando, at the conclusion of a long and fiery speech. "By his
negligence and timidity he has lost us our opportunity of crushing this
rebellion in the bud. Had a few thousand soldiers been sent to Janjalla
at the outbreak of the war, that city would not now be in the hands of
the rebels. Nay, they would not have even gained a footing in the
south. But, by withdrawing the garrisons from that seaport, from the
inland towns, his Excellency had laid them open to capture, and they
had been captured. Janjalla is in the power of Xuarez; by this time,
for aught we know, Centeotl may have surrendered to his victorious
army. Puebla de los Naranjos has been sacked by the Indian tribes, who
should have been crushed at once. Now Chichimec is surrounded, and may
fall at any time, yet no aid has been sent to the relief of the
citizens. All these terrible disasters have been caused by the
blundering of Don Francisco, by his incompetency. I call on him to
resign his command into more capable hands, else will we see the foe at
our gates, our city in ruins, and Cholacaca helpless, under the heel of
the tyrant Xuarez!"

Don Francisco, bursting with indignation, replied, He had done his
best! If he had sent forward troops to Janjalla, they might have been
defeated, and then the capital would have fallen an easy prey to the
rebels, through lack of garrison. As it was, the city could hold out
for months; the walls were strong, the garrison were resolute, there
was plenty of provisions.

He had held the army at Tlatonac to save the capital. Where, then, was
the blunder in that? By sea, the forces of the Republic had been
victorious. _The Pizarro_ had been sunk, _The Columbus_ captured, and
now the torpederas were on their way to Janjalla harbour to force _The
Cortes_ to strike her flag. He had succeeded by sea. He would succeed
on land. When the army of Xuarez was before the walls of Tlatonac the
fate of the country could be decided in one battle. He refused to
resign his position as President.

The partisans of Maraquando, the supporters of Gomez, broke out into
noisy demonstrations, and the whole place was in an uproar. The one
called upon Gomez to resign, the other denounced Maraquando as a
traitor. It seemed as though neither would give in, as though the
capital would be divided into two hostile factions, when a solution of
the difficulty was proposed by Padre Ignatius.

Making his appearance suddenly in the hall, the good priest first
stilled the tumult by holding up his crucifix, and then begged to lay
before the Junta a proposition which would suit all parties. It would
never do, said the Padre, to depose Don Francisco. The pretext for war,
alleged by Xuarez, was that Gomez ought to be deposed for breaking the
Constitution of Cholacaca. They knew that His Excellency had not done
so; that he had loyally upheld the freedom and laws of the Republic. If
deposed by his own party, such a deposition would give colour to
Xuarez's assertion that he had right on his side, and perhaps prejudice
the inland towns in his favour. Better it would be to let Don Francisco
still remain President till the date of the expiration of his office,
four months hence, and in the meantime entrust the conduct of the war
solely to Don Miguel Maraquando. By this arrangement his Excellency
would still continue nominal head of Cholacaca, and the war could be
conducted by Maraquando, without the responsibility resting on the
President.

This proposition, seeming to be the only possible solution of the
problem, was unanimously accepted by both parties. It is true that
Gomez, who hated Maraquando like poison, sorely grudged giving up the
command of affairs to his rival; but as he saw that the Junta wished it
to be so, he was forced to yield. Don Miguel was, therefore, elected
General of the army of the Republic, and Don Francisco was permitted to
retain the civil rule. Then the meeting broke up, and Maraquando went
off to take measures for the immediate relief of Chichimec, while
Gomez, much mortified at the slight he had received, retired sullenly
to his palace.

"What's the matter, Tim?" asked Jack, as they left the Palacio
Nacional. "You ought to be pleased at witnessing such a stirring scene,
instead of which you are like a bear with a sick head."

"And haven't I a cause?" replied Tim, gruffly. "Look at all this shindy
going on, and I can't send a telegram to my paper."

"Oh, that's it, is it? Well, then, ask Philip to lend you _The
Bohemian_, and go off to Truxillo at once."

"Begad, that isn't a bad idea anyhow," cried Tim, stopping suddenly;
"but I don't want to leave Tlatonac just now."

"Well, you may be pretty certain Philip won't go, nor I. Why not send
Peter? Write out your news here. Peter will take it, and old Benker
will look after the yacht."

"How far is it to Truxillo?"

"A trifle over three hundred miles."

"Do you think Philip will lend me the yacht?"

"I'm sure he will. Let us ask him at once. He is flirting with Doña
Eulalia in Maraquando's patio."

Tim, who had quite recovered his spirits at Jack's happy suggestion,
started off at once to the Casa Maraquando. There was no necessity,
however, for them to go so far, for they met their friend coming down
the Calle Otumba. He hailed them at once.

"Tim! Jack! come along to the Puerta de la Culebra. News from
Chichimec."

"What do you say?" roared Tim, plunging towards the speaker.

"Cocom came to the Casa Maraquando a few minutes ago, and told me that
a messenger had arrived from Chichimec. He is at the Puerta de la
Culebra."

"The deuce!" cried Jack, in alarm, as they hurried along towards the
gate; "perhaps it's another request for relief."

"If so, they will soon have it," said Tim, quickly. "Don Miguel is
going to send three thousand men this day to finish off these savages."

"Ah, that is something like!" said Philip, approvingly; "there will be
some chance of relieving the city with that force. I am glad Don Miguel
has matters now in his own hands."

"So am I. He'll end the war in no time. I say, Philip, lend me the
yacht."

"What for? You are not going to Janjalla again?"

"No! I'm going further south. That is, I'm sending Peter with
despatches."

"Where to?"

"Truxillo! He can send off my telegrams from there. Lend me the yacht,
Philip, and I'll love you for ever more."

"Oh, take her, by all means; but I hope she won't be smashed up by the
warships of Xuarez."

"He's only got one now," replied Tim, coolly; "and she'll have her
hands full looking after the torpederas."

"I forgot that! It's a good idea, Tim! Get all the news together you
can, and Peter shall go out with _The Bohemian_ to-night, both of
them in charge of Benker."

"Do you think Peter will go?" said Jack, doubtfully.

"Of course he will," said Tim, promptly. "The little man's of no use
here. I'll make him Queen's messenger for once in his life."

"Hallo!" cried Philip, at this moment, "there's old Cocom making signs.
Ola, Cocom!"

The old Indian, who was hobbling on the other side of the street, came
over to them with an excited look on his usually immobile face.

"Carambo, Señores! the news. The terrible news!"

"What is it?" cried the three Englishmen simultaneously.

"Chichimec has fallen!"

Jack uttered an ejaculation of rage, and darted off to the gate,
followed by Tim and Philip. They found an excited throng of people
talking wildly together. Don Sebastian was just under the archway, with
his glasses to his eyes, looking towards the plains beyond.

"Is the news true of Chichimec's fall?" asked Jack pushing his way
through the crowd.

Don Sebastian turned slowly with a grave bow, and handed Jack the
glasses.

"Quite true, Señor. See! fugitives are arriving every moment."

Jack clapped the glass to his eye, and saw that the plain was sprinkled
with people all making for the gate of Tlatonac.

"Why don't you send out a regiment to protect them, De Ahumada?"

"It is going now. Behold, Señor."

About five hundred men, well mounted, came trotting down the street,
and began to file through the archway out on to the plain. Jack stood
on one side and watched them go by in all their martial splendour.

"How did the Indians take the town, De Ahumada?"

"It was surprised last night," replied Don Sebastian, sadly. "I expect
the sentinels were worn out with constant watching. Dios! It is
frightful. First Puebla de los Naranjos, now Chichimec; Janjalla has
already fallen, and Tlatonac----"

"Won't fall," interrupted Jack, abruptly, as the last of the cavalry
swept through the gate. "When things are at their worst, matters mend.
Just now they are very gloomy. To-morrow they may improve."

Tim stayed behind to make inquiries about the fall of Chichimec for the
use of his paper, and Philip, in company with Jack, went off to look up
Peter, and ask him if he would consent to act as Tim's messenger to
Truxillo. They could not find him in their own house, and learned from
a servant that he had gone in search of them to the Casa Maraquando. At
once they repaired thither, and had just reached the door, when Peter,
with a look of alarm on his face, rushed out of the house, almost
falling into their arms in his hurry.

"Philip! Jack! Have you heard?"

"What is the matter, Peter?"

"Don Francisco has shot himself! Don Miguel has just told me."

Philip made a gesture of horror, and Jack ran into the house to see
Maraquando, and learn the particulars of the case.

It was perfectly true. Unable to bear the disgrace of being deposed
from the active conduct of affairs, President Gomez had retired to his
room, and shot himself through the heart.




CHAPTER V.

THE INDIAN RAID.

    Painted braves came on the war-path,
    Numerous as the leaves in summer,
    Decked with feathers and with wampum,
    All their faces fierce and fearless,
    Streaked with colours like the sunset,
    Rage was in their hearts of iron;
    Spears grasped they, and bows and arrows,
    And their horses, like the storm clouds,
    Swiftly swept across the prairies,
    Till the firm earth shook and trembled
    'Neath the thunder of their thousands.
    Loud they sang the song of battle,
    Sang the song of war and bloodshed;
    While the nations, women-hearted,
    Hid within their walled cities,
    Like the rabbits in their burrows,
    When they heard that chaunt triumphal.


Certainly, fate was dealing hardly with the Republic of Cholacaca. One
blow followed another, and it seemed as though the final catastrophe
would be the triumphal entry of Don Hypolito Xuarez into the capital.
Janjalla was in his possession; he now threatened Centeotl, and the two
towns of Puebla de los Naranjos and Chichimec had been destroyed by his
savage allies. The unexpected death of Don Francisco Gomez put the
finishing touch to this series of calamities, and the whole city was
pervaded by a feeling of dismay. Disquieting rumours crept among the
people that Xuarez had captured Centeotl and Hermanita--that he was now
on his way to Tlatonac--that the death of President Gomez was due to
his machinations. These fabrications, gaining additions as they flew
from mouth to mouth, carried fear into the hearts of the citizens, and
many were of the opinion that nothing was left save surrender to the
insolent conqueror.

The Junta met within an hour of the intelligence of Don Francisco's
death, and unanimously elected Don Miguel Maraquando as President of
the Republic. Even the party of the dead ruler supported this election,
as they could not fail to see that Maraquando would make an
exceptionally vigorous and firm-handed President. Though there was no
doubt that Don Francisco had committed suicide out of pique at being
deposed from the active command of affairs, yet the Junta, ignoring the
manner of his death, and thinking only of his past services, decreed
the late President a state funeral.

The houses of the city were draped in black, the flags floated
half-mast high, the minute guns boomed at intervals from the forts,
and, with all due formalities, President Gomez was interred in the
vaults of the Cathedral. When the ceremony was at an end, a weight
seemed to be lifted off the city. The bad fortune which had
persistently dogged the later months of Don Francisco's rule seemed to
be passing away, and, under the vigorous leadership of Maraquando, the
capital became wildly patriotic. One idea pervaded the minds of
all--that the war was to be ended at once, and that Xuarez was to be
crushed by prompt and well-conceived measures.

After the Indians had sacked Chichimec, it was naturally expected that
they would march southward and join Don Hypolito before Centeotl.
Instead of this, however, the savages began to threaten the capital,
and daily bands of well-horsed braves would scour the plains before the
Puerta de la Culebra. Sometimes the soldiers on guard, exasperated by
this insolent defiance of the principal city of Cholacaca, would dash
out in small parties; but on such a sally being made, the Indians
always disappeared. The bulk of their army still lay (as was
ascertained by spies) at Chichimec, and it seemed as though these
scouting parties were anxious to draw the troops of the Junta from
behind the walls, so as to fall on them in the open plain.

President Maraquando was anxious to march his whole army south, and
encounter Don Hypolito in the neighbourhood of Centeotl. In order to do
this, he would have to overcome the hordes of savages which formed a
living barrier between Tlatonac and Chichimec. This entailed some risk.
If beaten by the Indians, he would have to fall back on the capital in
a crippled condition, and thus give Xuarez time to increase and
discipline his army. Then, again, even if he did succeed in conquering
these bloodthirsty tribes, he would in all probability lose many of his
men, and be forced to encounter Don Hypolito's fresh soldiers with
jaded and diminished troops.

At one time he thought of waiting until the return of the torpederas
from Janjalla, and then embarking his troops on _The Iturbide_,
proceed southward to attack Xuarez in the rear. Even there the savages
would have to be reckoned with, and during his absence, and that of
the greater portion of his troops, would perhaps attack the capital.
Besides, Maraquando did not wish to risk an expedition to Janjalla
unless _The Cortes_ were either sunk or captured. Altogether, he was
in a state of much perplexity, and the only way by which he could make
a move was to detach the Indians from the cause of Xuarez. This task
was accomplished by Jack Duval in what seemed to be almost a
miraculous fashion.

The new President entertained a great opinion of Duval's abilities. He
invariably found him clear-headed and shrewd, capable of giving good
advice, and wonderfully prompt in coming to a decision in time of
emergency. Therefore, when, shortly after the death of Don Francisco,
the young man called to see him at the Casa Maraquando, with a view to
lay a certain proposition before him useful to the Republic, Don Miguel
interviewed him at once, and gave him his fullest attention.

Some time since, Peter, with Tim's notes, had started in _The
Bohemian_ for Truxillo, and at the last moment Philip had decided to
go with him. Jack desired to confer with Maraquando about his proposed
scheme, and to be on the spot in order to carry it out. Tim was afraid
to leave the capital lest he should miss some stirring event likely
to be of value to his paper; but Philip had no special reason for
remaining constantly at Tlatonac, unless for the sake of Doña Eulalia.
Dr. Grench did not object to go to Truxillo in _The Bohemian_, but on
observing that he would feel more at ease regarding the navigation of
the vessel if Philip commanded her, the baronet promptly decided to
go. It was a good thing for Peter that old Benker had not heard this
reflection on his seamanship, else he would have been much displeased.
At all events, Peter, by artfully putting the matter in this light,
secured Philip for his companion, and the yacht had departed the
previous day for Honduras. She was expected back in four days, and
Philip determined on his return voyage to stand in close to the shore
of Janjalla, and assure himself of the result of the expedition
against _The Cortes_.

Jack made his appearance in the patio in the company of Cocom, whose
presence he required in the delicate proposal he had to make. He
intended to appeal to the superstitious side of the Indian character,
and wanted Cocom to back up his opinion so as to induce Don Miguel to
give his consent to an experiment he desired to attempt connected with
the harlequin opal. Don Miguel was on the azotea smoking endless
cigarettes, and glancing over some papers relating to the Civil
Government. His secretary was present, but when Duval appeared, the
President sent him below with the documents, and received Jack and his
factotum alone. Jack took a seat by the President, and Cocom, rolling a
cigarette, squatted on the floor, wrapped in his zarape.

"Where is the Señor Correspoñsal?" asked Don Miguel, solemnly, after
the first greetings had passed between them.

"At the Puerta de la Culebra," replied Jack, taking the cigar offered
to him by the old gentleman. "I asked him to wait there, Señor, as in
an hour or so the peon sent by your Excellency to Chichimec is expected
back."

"Bueno! But what news do you expect by the peon?"

"News that the Indians contemplate an advance on Tlatonac!"

"Por todos Santos! Don Juan, such a thing cannot be. The Indians would
not dare to so insult the majesty of the Republic."

Jack privately thought the majesty of the Republic had been pretty well
insulted already, but wisely refrained from giving voice to such an
opinion.

"The Indians, Excelencia!" he said, smoothly, "are, according to
trustworthy reports, six thousand strong, and thus think themselves a
match for even the capital of Cholacaca. They have reduced Puebla de
los Naranjos to ashes, they have sacked Chichimec without hindrance,
and, excited by such victories, have rashly determined to attack
Tlatonac on their own account without waiting for the arrival of
Xuarez."

"Do you really think they will dare to camp under our walls?" asked Don
Miguel, still incredulous.

"I really do think so, Excelencia," replied Jack, frankly. "If you
think I am too rash in pronouncing such an opinion, question our friend
Cocom. He has already rendered great services to you and to the
Republic. Therefore, you must know that he speaks truth. Speak to him,
Señor."

The President turned his eyes towards the old Indian, who, impassive as
an idol, sat at his feet smoking a cigarette. He answered Maraquando's
inquiring look with a grunt of assent to Jack's remark.

"I am a true Indian, Excelencia! Of the Mayas I am, and my name is that
of their kings. Cocom speaks now the truth. Don Xuarez is also an
Indian, he comes from the hidden city of Totatzine. He has an
understanding with the high-priest, Ixtlilxochitli. Don Hypolito said
war, and the Chalchuih Tlatonac, through the priests of
Huitzilopochtli, said war. Therefore are six thousand Indians in arms.
Now the opal is in the possession of the enemies of the god--in
Tlatonac, a city hated by Ixtlilxochitli and Xuarez. They have told
their fighting men that this war is a holy war, for the recovery of the
sacred shining stone. Were it not for the opal, the Indians would not
dare to come to Tlatonac even with six thousand braves. But it is a
holy war. They will dare anything to recover the sacred stone.
Therefore will they come here, Excelencia, and camp under your walls.
This is the truth, I swear by the shrine of the Holy Mother of God."

"It might be so," said Maraquando, musingly; "the opal is in Tlatonac,
without doubt. My niece has it in her chamber, and knowing how sacred
the Indians hold the gem, I doubt but that they will fight boldly to
gain it again for the hidden shrine of their God, Huitzilopochtli."

"Assuredly, Don Miguel. And to gain it they will come to Tlatonac."

"That must not be!" cried the President, emphatically; "I will send an
army against them, and encounter their host at Chichimec."

"With what result, Señor? Even if you conquered, the victory would cost
you many men, and thus would your army be weakened to encounter
Xuarez."

"True, true! Don Juan. But what then is to be done."

"Let the Indian army come to Tlatonac. Let them camp under the walls.
Close the gates of the city, and make no hostile sign."

"What say you, Señor?" said Maraquando, in a fiery tone. "Would you
have me leave this savage foe in peace till joined by Don Hypolito--by
the rebel Xuarez?"

"They will not be joined by Xuarez, Don Miguel. When the rebels arrive,
they will find no savage allies under the walls of Tlatonac."

"If it could be so, it would be well. But how, Señor, do you propose to
make this savage army vanish without a blow?"

"By means of the Chalchuih Tlatonac."

"I do not understand, mi amigo. Explain, if you will be so gracious. I
am all attention."

Jack began to explain without further preamble.

"Observe, Excelencia," he said slowly, so that Don Miguel could have no
difficulty in following his reasons, "It is now noon--this night, if I
mistake not, the Indian army will come to Tlatonac----"

"Bueno!" interrupted Cocom, nodding his head like a mandarin, "I have
heard this thing spoken with many tongues. Your messenger, Excelencia,
will confirm what I say. The Indian army will march this night for
Tlatonac. At dawn will you see them encamped round the walls."

"Proceed, Don Juan," said the President, gravely.

"As you can see, Señor Maraquando," pursued Jack, emphasising his
remarks with his finger, "the savages will not arrive till night, so as
it is now but noon, we will have time to make ready for their arrival."

"Dios! You said make no preparations!"

"Not hostile preparations! No, Señor; listen, I pray you. We have the
Chalchuih Tlatonac, the properties of which are regarded with
superstitious reverence by the Indians. What the opal commands they
will do. When it glows red, they prepare for war. Let an azure ray
shine, and they know that the god commands peace, and, at whatever
cost, will lay down their arms."

"How is this done, this glowing of red, of blue?"

"I will explain, Señor. In the hidden city I saw it. The opal hung by a
golden thread before the shrine of Huitzilopochtli, and this thread was
twisted in a certain way by the priests. By careful calculation, they
could tell how far it would untwist, so that the opal stone depended
motionless, showing the colour they wished. If they desired war, the
red side of the stone revealed itself--if peace the blue. To prophesy
plenty, the yellow ray came to the front, and so on with all the
tints."

"Then you say, Don Juan, that if these Indians saw the opal glowing
blue, they would lay down their arms?"

"Assuredly, Señor! and withdraw at once to Totatzine, leaving Xuarez to
meet the forces of the Junta alone. If the stone glows blue, they know
it is the will of the god that they should not fight."

Don Miguel smiled incredulously.

"I doubt, Señor, whether these warriors, flushed with the sacking of
Puebla de los Naranjos and Chichimec would obey the stone now, even
though it glowed blue and thus proclaimed peace."

"Excelencia!" broke in Cocom, earnestly, "you know, not the power of
the Chalchuih Tlatonac. I, Señor am a good Catholic. I believe not in
the devil stone; but my countrymen, Señor, think that the spirit of the
god Huitzilopochtli dwells in the gem. They believe that he would
punish them with plagues unto death were they to disobey his will as
conveyed by the opal. The shining precious stone is the strongest thing
in the world to them. Believe me, Excelencia, that when the warriors
see the stone glow blue, even were they on the eve of entering
Tlatonac, they would lay down their arms and retire to the forests."

"I trust this may be so," said Maraquando, addressing himself to Jack,
not unimpressed by the Indian's speech; "but where, Señor Duval, do you
propose to let them see the opal?"

"In the chapel of Padre Ignatius, outside the walls," replied Jack,
promptly. "Cocom knows where there is an image of the war-god. He will
set it up on the altar of the chapel. Before it, by a thread, we will
hang the sacred stone. At dawn all will be ready, and Cocom can so
twist the thread that when the opal hangs motionless it will glow blue.
The Indians will arrive during the night. At dawn they will spread
themselves through the suburbs, and enter the chapel of the good Padre.
There they will see the image of their god, the sacred splendour of the
opal. They will kneel down and worship, watching the twisting of the
gem. When it stops and glows blue, then will they know Huitzilopochtli
is satisfied with the sacking of the two towns, and now commands peace.
Before noon, Excelencia, there will not be a single Indian left before
the walls. They will retire into the forests, to the sacred city of
Totatzine, and thus will Xuarez lose his allies."

Maraquando listened to this proposal in silence, his cheek resting in
the palm of his right hand, nor when Jack had concluded did he alter
his position. He mused long and deeply, neither of his guests
attempting to interrupt his meditations. This idea of detaching the
Indians from Xuarez, by means of the opal, seemed to him to be
childish. That an army of six thousand untutored savages flushed with
victory should voluntarily retire at the bidding of Huitzilopochtli
spoken through the stone, seemed improbable. But then Maraquando had
never been to Totatzine, he did not know in what extreme veneration the
opal was held by the Indians, and thus deemed Jack's proposition weak,
when in reality it could scarcely have been stronger. Nothing is so
powerful as superstition, and to work on the minds of the Indians
through their abject belief in the virtues of the shining precious
stone was a master-stroke on the part of Duval.

"It seems to me," said Maraquando, at length raising his eyes, "that
the carrying out of this scheme will entail the loss of the opal."

"Without doubt, Señor," replied Duval, coolly; "but by such a sacrifice
you gain more than you lose. The Indians will desert Xuarez, you will
be able to march your army south, and conquer him in the neighbourhood
of Centeotl before he has time to approach nearer to the capital. Then
you can crush his nest of traitors in Acauhtzin. Better lose the opal
than Tlatonac, and if we do not succeed in getting rid of the Indians
it may be that the city will fall."

"What says my niece Doña Dolores?"

"I have spoken to her, Señor, and for the sake of the city, she is
willing to run the risk of losing the jewel."

Don Miguel smiled approvingly. He was patriotic himself, and liked to
see the same quality displayed by all his family. At the same time, he
was a just man, and knowing how Dolores loved the gem, did not care
about taking advantage of her offer to sacrifice the same, unless she
voluntarily consented to surrender the sacred stone.

"We will ask the lady herself," he said, rising from his chair. "One
moment, Señor; I shall return with my niece."

He disappeared down the staircase leading to the patio, and Jack was
left alone with Cocom.

"It may be that the Indians will not dare to take the jewel," said
Jack, looking at the old man.

Cocom uttered a grunt which might have meant anything.

"Rest content, Don Juan. Once the Chalchuih Tlatonac leaves the walls
of the city, it will never return again. Back to the sacred shrine of
Totatzine shall it go. The high priest has ordered it be sought for far
and wide, lest the god afflict the people with plagues for its loss."

"Still, if I remained in the chapel, and watched it."

"You, Señor? Nay, that, indeed, would be rash. The Indians would slay
you. Only one will watch the jewel; but that one cannot prevent the
worshippers seizing it."

"You mean yourself?"

"It is said. I speak of Cocom. He shall sit by the image of the god,
when the Indians enter the chapel of the good father."

"But the Indians might slay you, Cocom."

"That which is to be must be," replied the old man, stolidly. "Cocom
must watch the sacred gem, so that it sends the blue ray of peace from
its breast. The tribes have been told by Ixtlilxochitli that Cocom is a
traitor, and false to the worship of the old gods. When he is seen, he
must die."

"But my friend, I----"

"Be silent, Señor. Not you nor any man can turn aside the spear of
Teoyamiqui. Why should I murmur if death be my portion? I am old, I am
mutilated, I am weary of life. If I die I die, and for the safety of
the white people. It may be, Señor, that, as says the good Padre, Cocom
shall go to the heaven of the Christians. With the Virgin such going
rests."

Jack found no words to reply to this speech, and remained silently
thinking of how he could save the old man from death. He had as yet
arrived at no conclusion, when Don Miguel appeared with his niece on
the floor of the azotea. Dolores ran towards Jack and threw herself
into his arms.

"Querido," she said in a tender voice, "my good uncle tells me of your
scheme. It is that of which you spoke to me. It may save Tlatonac from
savage foes, and thus do I aid you to the extent of my powers."

She held out the opal towards him.

"You may lose it altogether, Dolores."

"No matter, Juanito. It may save the city."

"And you consent to this sacrifice, Don Miguel?"

"Yes, Señor. I think it will turn aside this host of savages. With them
away, we can hope to conquer Xuarez. Otherwise----" Maraquando stopped
suddenly, and made a gesture of despair.

"Of course it is merely an experiment," said Jack, doubtfully.

"But one which must be successful," cried Dolores, quickly. "Querido,
can you doubt that, after what we saw in the sacred city? As the god
speaks through the opal, so will the Indians act. Let it dart, then,
its blue ray, and drive them back to their forests."

"You are sure you can make it shine blue, Cocom?"

"Señor," said the old man, with great dignity, "I give my life to prove
that this shall be so."

Jack took the opal from the outstretched hand of Dolores.

"So be it!" he cried, fervently. "The opal has brought the Indians to
Tlatonac; the opal shall send them back again to Totatzine."

Tim suddenly made his appearance with a face full of excitement.

"Jack! Señor Maraquando!" he said, quickly, in Spanish, "the messenger
you sent to spy on the Indians at Chichimec has returned."

"What does he say, Señor Correspoñsal?"

"That the whole host of Indians are marching from Chichimec, and will
be camped round the walls at dawn. Dios! We are lost!"

"No," cried Jack, brightly, "we are saved!"

"What the deuce will save us, Jack?" asked Tim, in English.

"This!"

Duval held up the harlequin opal. A ray of sunlight struck the jewel,
and a blue ray darted out like a tongue of steel.

"Bueno!" said Cocom, stolidly, "the Chalchuih Tlatonac prophesies
peace."




CHAPTER VI.

THE LUCK OF THE OPAL.

    The red ray dies in the opal stone,
    The god hath spoken,
    Arrow and bow and spear be broken,
    Red of war is the fiery token,
    And lo! in the zone,
    It pales, and fades, and faints, and dies,
    As sunsets wane in the eastern skies.

    The blue ray glows in the opal's heart,
    The god is smiling,
    Victims no more need we be piling,
    On altar stone for his dread beguiling;
    The blue rays dart
    To tell us war must surely cease,
    So in the land let there be peace.


Jack at once proceeded to execute his project. Fortunately Padre
Ignatius had gone south in _The Iturbide_, thinking his ministrations
might be required by the wounded, else Duval would never have gained
the good priest's consent to such a desecration of his chapel. As it
was, Jack hoped to carry out his scheme, and restore the chapel to its
original state before the return of the old man. The actual elevation
of a heathen idol on the shrine of the Virgin, not being seen by Padre
Ignatius, he would think less of the sacrilegious act, more especially
when he would find on his return the altar in nearly the same state as
when he left it. Being a Protestant, Jack had no scruples about the
matter, and Cocom was such a queer mixture of paganism and Catholicism,
that his views were not very decided. He believed in the Virgin
certainly; but seeing that her altar was required to save the city,
Cocom thought that she surely would not object to the conversion for a
time of her chapel into a heathen temple. Besides, if this was not
done, the Indians would be sure to destroy the shrine, so it was best
to make an attempt to avert such a disaster, even in such an
illegitimate way, rather than risk the whole place being destroyed by
the savages. This was Cocom's idea in the matter, therefore he
proceeded to put an image of Huitzilopochtli in the place occupied by
the cross. Father Ignatius would have died of horror had he witnessed
such daring.

All the afternoon they laboured to transfer the chapel into a semblance
of the temple of the war-god, and at length succeeded in making it a
very fair representation. Huitzilopochtli, his left foot decked with
humming-bird feathers, was set up on the shrine itself, a small altar
on which a fire was lighted burned before him, and the walls were
draped with mats of featherwork and pictured linen, whereon were
depicted the hideous forms of Aztec deities. From the roof, by a golden
thread, hung the famous opal, spinning in the dim light. After some
calculation, Cocom made a hole in the roof of the chapel, so that when
the sun rose over the walls of the city his beams would pour through
the opening and bathe the gem in floods of gold.

Where Cocom had discovered all this idolatrous paraphernalia Jack could
not make out, nor would the old Indian tell. But it confirmed Duval in
his belief that in the near neighbourhood of Tlatonac the natives still
worshipped the gods of their ancestors, for the celerity with which
Cocom had produced statue, pictured linen, and altar, pointed to the
existence of some hidden temple close at hand. In fact, despite Cocom's
asseverations to the contrary, Jack began to be doubtful as to his
really being a Christian, for he betrayed far too much knowledge of
paganism in its worst form to be quite orthodox. One thing, however,
was certain, that, pagan or not, Cocom was greatly incensed against
Ixtlilxochitli for maiming him, and was doing his best to thwart the
plans of the savage old priest.

Things having been thus arranged, towards sunset Jack tried to persuade
Cocom to return with him to the city, and leave the opal to work out
its own spell. This the obstinate octogenarian refused to do, averring
that without his personal superintendence the scheme would fail. Jack
unwilling that a man from whom he had derived so many benefits should
be left unprotected amid a horde of bloodthirsty savages, insisted on
remaining with him to keep vigil during the night. This offer Cocom
also refused, and implored Jack to return at once to the city, and have
the gates closed, as it was near sunset, and the Indian army would soon
be close at hand.

"Leave me here, Señor," he said, with quiet obstinacy. "It may be that
I fall not into their hands. They may take the opal--that is sure--but
they may not take me. If you remain, your white skin will attract their
fury, and they may sacrifice you before that very altar you have
assisted to rear. I am an Indian, a Maya. Dog does not bite dog. It may
be that I shall escape."

"Not if Ixtlilxochitli can help it."

"Oh, that evil one! He would have my blood, I know, Don Juan. But
behold, Señor, if I--as the Indians, my countrymen, think--took the
opal from Totatzine, I now bring it back again. That may save me!"

"But, Cocom----"

"Depart, Señor; I have my own plans. What says the proverb of the white
people? 'Every one is master of his own soul.' Go! I save mine as I
will!"

It seemed to Jack that Cocom was desirous of wearing the crown of
martyrdom. However, it was useless to turn him from his purpose, as he
was obstinately set on daring the fury of the Indians. Jack, for a
moment, thought of employing force, and looked at the spare frame of
the old man, with the idea of picking him up and bearing him inside the
city. Perhaps something of his purpose showed itself in his eyes, for
Cocom suddenly darted out of the chapel and disappeared. Though he
searched everywhere, Jack was unable to find him, so proceeded to the
Puerta de la Culebra, and reported his arrival to Don Sebastian, who
was stationed there in command of the guard.

"And the Indian, Señor?"

"Refuses to come within, Don Sebastian. He says he is safe outside."

De Ahumada shrugged his shoulders, and made the same remark as had
Cocom some quarter of an hour before.

"Bueno! Dog does not bite dog."

Then he ordered the gates to be closed, which was accordingly done. It
was now too late to alter existing circumstances, and the whole chances
of detaching the Indian host from the cause of Xuarez lay with Cocom
and the opal. Jack went off to the Casa Maraquando, in order to inform
Don Miguel of all that had been done, and then rewarded himself for
that wearisome afternoon by chatting with Dolores. It had been deemed
advisable, by Don Miguel, to keep Jack's scheme secret, lest, should
the attempt fail, and the opal be lost, the populace should lose heart
in the forthcoming struggle with Xuarez. So long as the opal was in the
city, they deemed themselves invincible; so, whether the attempt to
detach the Indians succeeded or failed, Maraquando determined that the
people of Tlatonac should still think that the sacred stone was in the
possession of his niece.

Late that night Jack went on the walls with Tim, and together they
watched the Indians gather round the walls. Above the Puerta de la
Culebra was fixed a powerful electric light, which irradiated a
considerable portion of the space beyond the gate. Without the walls
there was quite a town, as the huts of the peons stretched away in long
lines, alternating with palms, cacti, aloes, and densely foliaged ombú
trees. Close to the gate these huts clustered thickly together, but
after a time became scattered, and finally ceased on the verge of the
plains, where the ground was thickly covered with brushwood.

The Indians, fearful of the guns protruding from the walls, and
doubtful of the weird glare of the electric light, kept away beyond the
line of huts, and finally camped in the open ground beyond.
Notwithstanding the distance they kept from the town the powerful rays
of electric light blazed full on their camp, and caused them
considerable uneasiness. The two Englishmen could see their tall, dark
forms, gliding like ghosts through the white radiance, and at times a
mounted troop of horsemen would dash furiously across the circle of
light, disappearing into the further darkness. Just below, a stone's
throw from the wall, arose the little chapel of Father Ignatius,
beneath whose roof Cocom, with the opal, awaited the dawn.

For some hours Jack watched the strange sight that savage picture,
starting out of the surrounding darkness, and ultimately retired to his
house, hopeful that before noon of the next day all the Indians would
have disappeared. Tim remained behind, talking to Don Sebastian, and
scribbling notes in his book; but at last he also went to rest, and the
wall was left in possession of De Ahumada and his guard. All night long
the electric light flashed its beams on the camp, so as to guard
against an unexpected attack by the Indians.

At dawn, the savages were up and doing before sunrise. They gathered
together in groups, and talked of how they were to attack this
formidable city, whose colossal walls bid defiance to their puny
weapons. They could see soldiers moving along the ramparts, the black
muzzles of the guns frowning fiercely down, and wondered at the
absolute indifference of the Republic, who thus permitted her
hereditary enemies to camp before the gates of her principal city.
Everything within the town was quiet, the gates were firmly closed, no
peons were to be seen moving about the suburbs, and the Indians,
blackening the plain with their thousands of men and horses stood
perplexed before this intensely silent town.

The east was flaming redly over the ocean waves. The Indians could see
the long line of battlements black against the clear crimson sky. No
wind blew across the desert, and the great banner of the opal hung
motionless from its tall staff. Suddenly, in the red sky, a yellow beam
shot up into the cold blue of the zenith; another and another followed,
spreading like a gigantic fan. The savages threw themselves on their
knees, and held up their hands in supplication to the great deity, who
was even now being invoked with sacrifice in the hidden town of
Totatzine.

The gold of the sky seemed to boil up behind the walls of the town, as
though it would run over in yellow streams. Then the dazzling orb
appeared, and fierce arrows shot across the green suburbs to the sandy
desert, where those thousands of naked Indians were kneeling. Suddenly
a man started in surprise, and looked inquiringly at his companions.
They listened as he had done, and also looked astonished. In a
miraculously short space of time the whole host were in a state of
commotion. Those in front stood still in a listening attitude, those
behind pressed forward to hear this miracle which had startled their
companions. Loud and shrill arose the song from the chapel of Padre
Ignatius. It was the hymn of the opal daily chaunted by the priests of
Huitzilopochtli in the city of Totatzine.

The chiefs hastily gathered together, and consulted as to the meaning
of this prodigy. Never before had the sacred song been heard beyond the
shrine of the sacred city, and now its music was thrilling through the
still morning air under the very walls of the capital. The mystery must
be solved at any cost, and commanding their warriors to wait in the
camp, all five chiefs, the leaders of the host, flung themselves on
their horses, and galloped bravely up to the chapel. It was a dangerous
thing to do, for at any moment those terrible guns might vomit forth
fire and death; but the chiefs did not care. Fanaticism, dread of the
gods, was their most powerful characteristic, and dismounting from
their horses, they entered the door of the chapel whence the chaunt of
the opal proceeded.

At the entrance they stood transfixed with surprise, and for the moment
deemed they were in the Shrine of the Opal at Totatzine. Half-veiled by
clouds of white smoke rolling upward from a small altar, they could see
the terrible features of Huitzilopochtli, in all his blood-stained
glory. The mats of feather-work hung glittering from the walls; they
marked the grotesque visages of their deities scowling from pictured
walls, and behind the altar, the hidden minstrel chaunted the hymn of
the opal.

The opal! There it hung in the centre of the white smoke. A ray of
golden light, like a finger from heaven, smote it with terrible glory.
It was turning rapidly, as they had seen it in the temple of the god at
Totatzine.

"Chalchuih Tlatonac!" they cried, and all five prostrated themselves
before the sacred gem. High and shrill rang out the song from the
hidden singer, and the chiefs, with reverential awe, watched the
spinning opal. Red, yellow, blue, green, the rays flashed out jets of
many-coloured fire every second. It began to revolve more slowly.
Slower and slower! a pause!--it hung motionless, and a ray of azure
shone benignly from its breast.

The song ceased, and a tall man, arrayed in white garments, came from
behind the shrine, holding a blue cloak full length in his arms. This
was the ritual prescribed at the shrine of Huitzilopochtli when the god
spoke through the opal.

"The god proclaims peace!"

His voice broke the spell. The Indians dashed forward, and strove to
seize him, but he eluded their grip, and vanished.

"Peace! Peace! Peace!" they heard him cry three times. Their attention
was fixed on the opal, and they did not pursue him.

"The sacred stone!" cried the supreme chief; "we must bear it back to
the shrine of the god. Forgive us, oh, holy one."

He snapped the stone off the string, and darted out of the door,
followed by his four companions. At the door an old Indian, now
divested of his sacerdotal garments, met them, and rushed on their
principal with a cry of anger.

"The opal! Give me back the sacred gem!"

"Cocom!" cried the chief, raising his tomahawk. "It was thou who
thieved the gem! Die, vile wretch, who desecrated the shrine of the
god."

His companions restrained his wrath. The fear of the opal was on them.

"Nay, Tezuco. The god says peace! The stone burns blue rays."

"Bind him, then, and we will take him to Totatzine; there to be
sacrificed on the altar of the offended god."

In a moment Cocom, in spite of his struggles, was thrown across the
back of the horse of one of the chiefs, and they all rode off rapidly
towards the camp. In the centre of the throng, Tezuco halted, and held
up his hand. Therein flashed the opal, and a cry of delight arose from
the host, who in a moment recognised the gem, and at once prostrated
themselves before its glory.

"Children of the war-god. This hath been given to us again. We saw the
stone revolve--we saw it stay. Blue was the ray of the gem. Blue, my
children, is the sign of peace. Huitzilopochtli, the lord of war, is
appeased. He proclaims peace. No longer wait we here. To Totatzine!"

"To Totatzine!" roared the vast host, and, at a signal, rushed for
their horses. War, plunder, Xuarez, all was forgotten. The blue ray of
the opal proclaimed peace, and this vast host, laying down its arms,
departed at the bidding of the god.

The townspeople on the walls of the city saw with amazement the Indians
suddenly, without any apparent reason, strike their camp, and file off
in long lines towards the north. Astonished at the sight, Don Sebastian
sent off a message to the President.

In a quarter of an hour he arrived at the Puerta de la Culebra,
followed by Jack and Tim.

"Behold, Señor!" cried Jack, triumphantly pointing to the myriads
tramping across the plain. "Did I not speak truly? The opal has done
its work."

"The opal! The opal!" murmured those around him, and the cry being
caught up by the populace, passed from one mouth to another. The crowd
on the walls, seeing in the departure of the Indians the influence of
the opal, began to cry out madly. They deemed that the opal was still
within the walls of Tlatonac.

"Viva el opale! El Chalchuih Tlatonac!"

"Bueno!" said Maraquando, with satisfaction, shaking Jack by the hand;
"you were right, Señor. The Indians will give us no more trouble. Now
we can crush Xuarez in the south. Señor de Ahumada open the gates!"

In a few moments His Excellency, followed by Jack, Tim, and Don
Sebastian, was galloping in the direction of the chapel. They reached
it, dismounted, and entered. The opal was gone and Cocom also!

"I knew we would lose the opal," said Jack, cheerfully; "but I thought
they would kill Cocom. Fortunately they have only taken him prisoner."

"To reserve him for a more cruel death in Totatzine, Señor," replied
Maraquando, his delight slightly damped. "He has served the Republic
well. I would he could have been saved."

"Poor devil!" murmured Tim, in English, as they remounted their horses.
"In any case, Jack, his death has saved the Republic. Now the savages
have gone away, it won't be difficult to thrash Don Hypolito."

At the city gates a new surprise awaited them. Don Rafael, mounted on a
mustang, came galloping through the gate, and reined up his steed in
front of his astonished father.

"My father! Great news; good news! I have just returned in _The
Montezuma_. We have captured _The Cortes_ and the transports."

Don Miguel looked incredulous. This news, coming after the departure of
the Indians, seemed too good to be true.

"It is true, my father," said Rafael, proudly. "By noon to-day you will
see them in the harbour. Now Don Hypolito has no fleet."

"Hurrah!" cried Jack, tossing his hat in the air. "The luck of the
opal!"

Those near repeated his exclamation. It swelled into a roar, and
throughout Tlatonac only one cry could be heard, "Vive el opale."




CHAPTER VII.

UNDER THE OPAL FLAG.

    Marching away; joyous and gay,
    Rank upon rank with a splendid display,
    Leaving the city at breaking of day.

    Riding along, gallant and strong,
    Round us the populace tearfully throng,
    Greeting our going with patriot's song.

    Under our feet, flower-buds sweet;
    Tread we in marching through plaza and street,
    Never our kinsfolk again may we meet.

    Laurels to earn; foemen to spurn;
    Only for glory we anxiously yearn,
    Conquerors all we will hither return.


"Juan," said Dolores, seriously, "I believe the opal brought us bad
fortune. While it was in the city, Janjalla fell, Don Francisco died,
and all went wrong. Now it is lost, the Indians have departed, the
fleet of Xuarez is destroyed, and everything promises well for the
future."

"That is true, in one sense, yet wrong in another," replied Jack,
smiling. "You must not forget that it was through the opal the Indians
departed, and while it was in Tlatonac, _The Pizarro_ was sunk, and
the two other warships captured."

"I suppose never again shall I behold the opal, Juanito?"

"Not unless you care to pay a second visit to Totatzine."

Dolores shuddered. The memory of their peril in the hidden city was a
painful one. Recent events had not obliterated the recollection of that
terrible journey to the coast through the tropical forest.

"I would certainly not care about seeing Totatzine again, querido. And
yet I would--if only to save Cocom!"

"It is impossible to save Cocom," responded Jack, a trifle sadly. "The
only way to do so would be to lead an army to the hidden city, and
rescue him. But how can such a thing be done in that narrow, secret
way? Our soldiers would be cut to pieces in those rocky defiles."

"There is no other way, I suppose?"

"I am not sure, Dolores. That cañon road leads to the outer world. If
we could only enter the valley where Totatzine is built by that way, we
might succeed in capturing the city; but I am afraid such an entrance
will never be discovered."

"Ay di mi. Then poor Cocom is lost."

"It is his own fault, querida. I tried to save him; but he refused to
obey my orders. Still, there is one chance of aiding him, though I am
afraid but a faint one."

"And that, my Juan?"

"Listen, angelito! The sacrifice of the cycle does not take place for
two months. I have escaped it, but Cocom may now be selected by
Ixtlilxochitli as the victim. If we can crush Xuarez and finish the war
within the next few weeks, it may be that we can march troops to the
sacred city, and save his life."

"But how can you get to the city? By the secret way?"

"No; by the cañon road. See, Dolores! I have an idea!"

They were sitting on the azotea, two days after the Indians had
retreated from Tlatonac. Rafael had just left them, full of glee at the
proposed expedition to Janjalla, and it was then that Dolores had made
the remark about the opal which lead to the conversation regarding
Cocom, Totatzine, and the cañon road.

In her lap Dolores had a pile of flowers, which she was arranging for
the use of the house. Jack took a handful of these, and, kneeling down
on the floor of the azotea, proceeded to illustrate his theory by
constructing a map with the blossoms.

"Behold, my own!" he said, deftly placing a bud here and there, "this
rose is Totatzine, situate fifty miles from the coast in a straight
line. Here is Tlatonac, indicated by this scarlet verbena. From the
point where we embarked in the canoe to the capital is twenty miles."

"I understand," said Dolores, much interested in this explanation.

"From Totatzine to the point where we embarked, and from thence to
Tlatonac, is what we call a right angle. Now, if I draw a straight line
from the capital in a slanting direction, you can see that it passes
through Totatzine."

"I see that, querido! but the third line is longer than the other two."

"It is longer than each of the other two lines if you take them
separately. Shorter if you take them together. You do not know Euclid,
Dolores, else you would discover that any two sides of a triangle are
together greater than the third side."

"Wait a moment, Juanito!" exclaimed Dolores, vivaciously. "From
Totatzine to the point where we embarked is fifty miles, from thence to
Tlatonac twenty miles--in all, seventy miles. But by your reasoning
this third line is not seventy miles."

"Of course not! Still I believe it is quite seventy miles from Tlatonac
to Totatzine by this new way."

"How so?"

"Because we cannot go thither in a straight line. If we went by this
one I have drawn, the distance would be much shorter than by the secret
way of the sea. But as we have to follow the railway it is a longer
journey--quite seventy miles. See! This is Cuavaca, at the foot of
Xicotencatl--thirty miles from Tlatonac; from Cuavaca to the terminus
of the railway it is twenty miles; from thence to Totatzine possibly
another twenty--in all seventy miles. So you see that the distance each
way, owing to the configuration of the country, is precisely the same."

"Yes; but what of that?"

"Can you not see? At the point where the railway stops it is only
twenty miles to Totatzine. Now, if, as I suspect, there is a road
leading up the cañon to the city, the distance from the termination of
the railway works to that road cannot be very far. If, therefore, we
discover the hidden road, we can take our troops up by rail, march the
rest of the distance, and enter Totatzine through the mouth of the
cañon."

"Oh!" cried Dolores, astonished at this idea. "And you propose to
attempt this entrance?"

"If it can be found. Unfortunately Cocom is the only Indian who could
supply such information, and he is a prisoner to Ixtlilxochitli."

"But if he knew of this cañon road, why did he not lead us by that way
instead of towards the coast?"

"You forget the whole country is overrun by Indians. We could not have
disguised ourselves as pilgrims had we gone by the cañon road. That is
evidently the secular path. The other way to the coast is sacred."

"It might be done, Juanito."

"Yes; but it cannot be done till Xuarez is conquered and the war is
ended."

"Santissima!" sighed Dolores, sadly; "and when will that be?"

"Very shortly. Now we have succeeded in getting rid of the Indians, we
shall be able to crush Xuarez at one blow."

"When do you march south?"

"To-morrow at the latest."

"Will Señor Felipe be back?"

"No, I am afraid not. In three days I expect the yacht will return. By
that time who knows but what we may not have conquered the rebels?"

Shortly afterwards this conversation came to an abrupt conclusion as
Don Miguel sent a special messenger to call Jack to the Palacio
Nacional. In those days Jack was a very important personage. Maraquando
was so impressed by the way in which the Indians had been dealt with
that he entertained a higher opinion than ever of Duval's capabilities,
and frequently appealed to him for advice. Nor did this create any
jealousy, for the Cholacacans were now beginning to regard Duval as one
of themselves. He was going to marry the niece of their President; he
was the engineer who had constructed the railway; he was deeply
interested in the future of the Republic; so it was generally supposed
that when the war was at an end he would be naturalized, a citizen of
Cholacaca, and take up his abode there altogether. A clever, brilliant
young man like Jack was a distinct acquisition to the country, and the
liberal-minded Cholacacans welcomed him accordingly.

From the deepest despair the city had passed into a state of great
elation. With the death of Gomez, all the bad fortune of the Republic
seemed to have vanished. Since Maraquando had seated himself in the
Presidential chair, all had gone well, and the superstitious
Tlatonacians looked upon him as a ruler likely to bring good fortune to
the Republic. Nor was such a belief to be wondered at, seeing how
suddenly the tide of fortune had turned within the last few days in
favour of the governmental party.

The Indians had departed, and thus was Don Hypolito deprived at one
swoop of half his power. _The Cortes_ menaced by _The Columbus_, _The
Iturbide_ and the torpederas had surrendered, and now with the
transports were lying in the harbour of the capital. Xuarez, by the
loss of his fleet, was cut off completely from the north, and shut up
in Janjalla with but six thousand troops.

After these events had transpired, the Junta met in the hall of the
Palacio Nacional to map out the coming campaign. The whole of the
members were on the side of Maraquando. Before the peril which
threatened the Republic in the south all party differences had
disappeared, and the representatives of the several provinces united in
upholding the policy of Don Miguel. This judicious unity was the
salvation of the Republic.

The capital was garrisoned by ten thousand troops plentifully supplied
with cannon, ammunition, and rifles. This force was under the command
of General Benito, who had been elevated to the command after the death
of the ill-fated Gigedo at Janjalla. The troops were in a great state
of excitement, as it was well known that they were no longer to be held
back within the walls of the capital. Maraquando had decided to throw
forward nine thousand men as far as Centeotl, and leaving one thousand
to defend Tlatonac, try conclusions with the rebels in the open plains.

At the second conference of the Junta, this decision was somewhat
modified by the advice of Benito. That astute commander pointed out
that in Janjalla lay the strength of Xuarez. If he was defeated at
Centeotl, he could fall back on the southern capital, whereas, if that
was in the power of the Government, he would have no chance of retreat,
and be thus crushed at one blow. The main thing, therefore, was to
capture Janjalla, and deprive the rebels of this last refuge in case of
defeat.

It was Rafael who supported the General, and proposed a plan by which
the southern city could be taken.

"Señores," cried Rafael, vehemently, "what General Benito says is
true. We must leave Xuarez no refuge. He must be crushed between our
armies in the north and south. Behold, Señores, in the harbour of our
city lie two warships taken from the enemy, now manned by faithful
sailors of the Junta. Also the armed cruiser _Iturbide_, and the two
torpedo-boats _Zuloaga_ and _Montezuma_, one of which I have the
honour of commanding. Give us, Señores, the order to steam south. Put
two thousand troops on board of the transports. Then we will lie in
the harbour of Janjalla, and bombard the town. As Don Hypolito has
probably gone north with the bulk of his army to Centeotl, the town
will be ill defended. In the end it must surrender, and then we can
land our troops and push forward to gain the rear of the rebels. From
the north, Señores, seven thousand men will march under the command of
General Benito. Thus Xuarez will find himself between two armies, and
be forced to surrender or submit to be cut to pieces. The rebels will
be defeated and the war will be ended."

This proposition commended itself to the Junta, and was ultimately
adopted. At once the fleet, under the command of Captain Pedraza, was
sent south, with instructions to bombard and capture Janjalla. Then to
lead the troops and push forward to effect a conjunction with General
Benito at Centeotl. The warships, the cruiser, torpederas, and
transports, left the harbour of the capital that afternoon amid great
excitement, and then the populace rolled from sea-gate to land-gate in
order to witness the departure of the army for the south.

As yet _The Bohemian_ had not returned from Truxillo, a delay which
vexed Tim mightily, as he wanted to send the boat off again with fresh
despatches. Besides, he knew that Philip would be annoyed at missing
the battle which was to decide the fate of the war. When he had left
for Truxillo, there had been no chance of the loyalists and rebels
meeting in open battle; but of late events had developed so rapidly
that it was impossible to delay matters further. The army was marching
for Centeotl, and Philip was absent at Truxillo.

Only one person was pleased at this. Eulalia was afraid of losing her
lover in what promised to be a terribly sanguinary affair, and was
therefore pleased that he was out of danger. She had not the Spartan
spirit of her cousin, who, though downcast at the prospect of being
separated from Jack, yet bade him march forward with the army to
conquer the rebels, and made no attempt to detain him by her side.

Two thousand infantry had embarked on board the transports for
Janjalla, and now the army, consisting of five thousand foot and two
thousand horse, left for the front by the Puerta de la Culebra.
Maraquando was nominally Commander-in-Chief of the forces, but, his
presence being required at Tlatonac, he left the conduct of the
campaign to General Benito. The army of Janjalla, proceeding thither by
sea, was commanded by Colonel Palo, and he was directed, when the
southern city was captured, to march to Centeotl, and effect, if
possible, a junction with the troops from the north. There were also
forty field-guns, and a battery of gatlings, with a corps of engineers.
Thus provided, the army of the Government deemed themselves invincible.

When they set out, Maraquando solemnly delivered to Benito the great
standard of the opal, which had never before left the walls of the
capital. Now, in all its splendour, it floated over the heads of the
soldiers, a shining star, with its glitter of feather-work and jewels,
leading them south to victory. With that standard the army could
scarcely conceive that there was any chance of defeat.

All signs of the Indians had disappeared. There was no doubt that,
obeying the opal, they had retired to the sacred city, and there
delivered the recovered treasure to the high priest. Doubtless
Ixtlilxochitli, still desirous of aiding Xuarez, would stir them up to
war; but before they could again emerge from the forests, General
Benito hoped to cut the army of Don Hypolito to pieces, reduce the
south to order, and then marching north, defeat the savage forces under
the walls of the capital. The great strength of the Republic lay in the
fact that by strategy they had succeeded in isolating Xuarez in the
south. Owing to the loss of his fleet, he could no longer depend upon
help from Acauhtzin, and now that his Indian allies had deserted him,
he was forced to meet the Royalist army with a comparatively small
army.

On Monday afternoon the transports, filled with troops, and convoyed by
the warships, left for Janjalla, and at dawn on Wednesday the army
began to march out of the Puerta de la Culebra on its way to the south.
Jack took a fond farewell of Dolores, and soothed her with promises of
his speedy return. Don Miguel, with some members of the Junta,
accompanied Benito some miles on his way, and then returned to the
capital to wait the upshot of this bold attempt to end the war at a
single blow.

From Tlatonac the army marched to Chichimec, which they found in ruins.
Hardly a soul was left in the town, for those who survived the massacre
had fled southward to Puebla de los Naranjos. It was true that there,
also, they would find but ruins. This they did not know, as the
telegraph-wires had been cut by the Indians, but as those savages were
between Chichimec and the capital, the unfortunate townspeople were
only able to escape southward.

Leaving Chichimec, Benito marched to Puebla de los Naranjos, and there
found a considerable number of fugitives from the former city. He was
informed that Centeotl still held out against the rebels, though Xuarez
was besieging it hotly, and that Hermanita was untouched by either
savage or rebel. This news was very comforting, and desirous of
reaching that town by nightfall, the General pushed forward his troops
by forced marches. By eight o'clock the army came in sight of
Hermanita, and were joyfully greeted by its citizens, who threw open
their gates to receive these whom they justly regarded as their
deliverers. That night the troops occupied the town.

Centeotl was but twenty miles further on, and Benito was desirous of
ascertaining the position of Xuarez before venturing to give battle.
He sent out Indian spies, and these speedily brought reports as to the
numerical strength of the rebels. It appeared that Xuarez had in all
about seven thousand troops, as he had been joined by several of the
smaller towns of the Republic. He had left but five hundred to
garrison Janjalla, never for a moment dreaming that, guarded as was
the town by _The Cortes_, it would be attacked by the loyalists from
the sea. Now having lost his sole remaining warship, he could not help
seeing that his position was desperate. By his spies, he learned that
the army under Benito was camped at Hermanita, and that Janjalla was
being bombarded by the fleet of the Junta.

At one time he thought of falling back on Janjalla, concentrating all
his force within its walls, and holding out against the loyalists,
until reinforced by his Indian allies. As yet he knew not that they had
deserted him and withdrawn to their forests. Had he been aware of his
isolated position, he might have come to terms with the Junta, but
relying on the aid of the savages, and trusting to Ixtlilxochitli's
promises, he felt confident that he would gain a victory. As Janjalla
was being bombarded by the warships, he decided not to fall back there,
as he would but expose his troops to a double danger: the land army of
Benito and the bombs from the sea.

What he proposed to do was to meet Benito at Centeotl, defeat his army,
and then either occupy that town, and hold out till his allies came
south, or march north to effect a conjunction with them before the
capital. As to Janjalla, he could do nothing to relieve it. It was
absolutely necessary that he should keep his troops together, so as to
meet the army of the Republic under Benito. Before Janjalla fell into
the hands of the Junta, he hoped to conquer the land forces. It was all
a chance, and he fully recognised that his position was most perilous.
The only hope he had of turning the tide of fortune in his favour was
to be joined by the Indians from the north.

The warships had left Tlatonac on Monday afternoon, and General Benito,
knowing the weak garrison at Janjalla, calculated that the city would
succumb to the bombardment by Friday at the latest. It was now the
morning of that day, and he determined to march his troops forward to
meet the rebel army. From Janjalla, from Hermanita to Centeotl, it was
but twenty miles each way; and assuming that Janjalla was captured, as
there was every reason to believe, General Benito hoped that the two
thousand troops from the south, and his own forces from the north would
meet at Centeotl about the same time.

With this idea, he marched with his full strength to Centeotl, for now
that the Indians had vanished, he had no fear of being attacked in the
rear, and if forced to retreat, could fall back on Hermanita, that city
being defended by its ordinary garrison. Don Hypolito, so as not to
expose his troops to the double fire of town and plain, left the
shelter of the walls, and occupied a low range of hillocks running at
right angles from the city. Between him and Benito flowed the river
broad and sluggish.

By noon the armies faced one another. At one o'clock the first shot was
fired, and the battle of Centeotl began.




CHAPTER VIII.

THE BATTLE OF CENTEOTL.

    The squadrons move across the plain,
    Beneath a rain
    Of deadly missiles falling, falling.
    Oh, could we gain
    Those heights beyond, where guns are calling,
    Of deeds appalling,
    One to the other not in vain,
    Then might we conquer in the fray,
    And victors be e'er close of day.


The stream lying between the two armies was called the Rio Tardo, from
its slow-flowing current, and emerging from the interior mountains,
pursued its way in many windings to the sea. Centeotl was built on the
left bank, so that the loyalists were unable to occupy the town without
crossing the river, and to do so they would have had to force a passage
at the point of the sword. The battle took place about three miles from
the city, on a large plain streaked here and there with low ranges of
sandy hills, and intersected by the broad stream of the Rio Tardo.

On one of these ranges Don Hypolito had planted his artillery, and
swept the river with his heavy guns. He also disposed his infantry
along the banks, whence they kept up a regular fire of musketry on the
loyalists. The bridge at Centeotl had been destroyed prior to the
arrival of Benito, so that there was no way of crossing, save under
fire from the foot soldiers, or in the teeth of the battery posted on
the sandy ridges.

Behind this battery Xuarez held his cavalry in reserve, lest the
loyalists should accomplish the passage of the river, and the
combatants come to closer quarters. Between Centeotl and the position
he had taken up, he placed a line of some thousand horse, with the
object of preventing an attack by the besieged in his rear. In the
disposition of his troops, he showed a wonderful skill in taking
advantage of the capabilities of the ground, and General Benito saw
plainly that it would be with considerable difficulty that he could
effect a crossing of the Rio Tardo.

On his side there were no ranges of hills upon which he could post his
artillery, or by which he could protect his men. Nothing but a desolate
plain covered with brushwood incapable of offering the least shelter
against the devastating fire of the insurgents. His only way of
crossing the river was to silence the battery on the sandhills. With
this object, he brought up his field-guns, and opened a heavy cannonade
on the heights beyond. The rebels replied, and for over two hours this
cross fire went on without intermission on either side. Benito trusted
by this gunnery to deceive the insurgents as to his real purpose, which
was to attempt a crossing with five hundred horse three miles further
up the stream, near the ruins of the bridge. By doing so he could take
Xuarez in the rear, and while the rebels were employed in facing this
new danger from an unexpected quarter, hoped to cross the river with
his full force.

Don Hypolito evidently suspected this stratagem, for he kept a sharp
eye on the disposition of the loyalist army in the direction of
Centeotl. When he saw a body of horse move citywards to effect a
crossing, he at once sent a troop of cavalry to dispute the passage.
Benito seeing this, despatched a battery of six gatlings to support his
troops, trusting that under the cover of these guns playing on the
enemy they could force the stream. At once Xuarez brought up his
field-artillery, and in a short space of time the cannonading lower
down the river was being repeated further up at the ruins of the
bridge.

The right wing of the loyalist army, consisting entirely of infantry,
was thrown forward in the direction of Centeotl, and kept up a
fusillade, under cover of which the cavalry in scattered groups tried
to cross. The insurgents, however, could not be dislodged from the
opposite bank, and it was impossible to accomplish the passage under
their persistent musketry. For close on three miles along the banks of
the river this line of sharp-shooters extended, and at each end of the
line artillery thundered incessantly. Men on either side were dropping
every moment, and it seemed as though each army would annihilate the
other without either crossing the stream. For four hours the battle had
been raging without the combatants coming to close quarters, and
Xuarez's soldiers remaining ever on the defensive, began to grow
impatient. On the other hand, the Royalists trying to carry the passage
of the stream by dash after dash, were warming up to their work.

It would have been madness for Don Hypolito to cross the stream, and
with his few attack the many of the loyalists. The river was his great
safeguard, and so long as that interposed its waters between him and
the enemy, he felt comparatively safe, trusting to hold his position
until the arrival of the Indians from the north, whom he counted upon
taking the enemy in the rear. He saw plainly that his men were growing
weary of remaining solely on the defensive, and submitting to be cut to
pieces by the fire of Benito's artillery; but, until he saw a prospect
of being reinforced by the Indians, he was powerless to do anything but
stubbornly prevent the loyalists from fording the stream.

General Benito saw that the rebel leader was unaware of the
disaffection of the allies, and relied on their arriving shortly to
turn the tide of war in his favour. With a view, therefore, to
dishearten him, he ordered an Indian scout, attached to his staff, to
ford the river if possible, below the battery point, present himself to
Xuarez as a deserter from the loyalists, and inform him that the
Indians had retreated. The scout at once obeyed, and attempted to swim
the river, but just as he was close on the opposite bank, a rifle-shot
struck him, and it was with the greatest difficulty that he regained
the shore. Several rebel soldiers ran up to finish him with their
bayonets, but he implored them to take him to Xuarez, as he was in
possession of certain facts relating to the allies.

On being brought into the presence of the rebel leader, he had just
time to tell Don Hypolito of the uselessness of counting on the
Indians, and shortly afterwards expired. Xuarez thought at first it was
a device of the loyalists to gain time, but as hour after hour went on,
and no Indians appeared, he began to believe that he was indeed foolish
to depend upon help from that quarter. The full terror of his position
came on him at once. He saw that, deserted by the Indians, cut off from
Acauhtzin, the whole success of the rebellion against the Junta
depended upon his cutting the army of Benito to pieces. Janjalla was
behind him, and he several times thought of falling back on that town,
but the knowledge that it was being bombarded by the loyalist fleet
withheld him from committing such a folly. Centeotl was held in the
interests of the Junta. There was no chance of safety there, so he saw
that he must remain in his present position, and either tire out Benito
by holding his position stubbornly, or dash across the river with the
main portion of his troops, and try the fortune of war in a
hand-to-hand fight.

With characteristic boldness he decided on the latter of these
alternatives, and sent forward a thousand cavalry to cross the river,
and carry the war into the enemy's camp. Midway between the two
batteries, which still kept up their fire, he brought fifteen
field-guns to bear on the masses of infantry on the other bank, armed
only with their rifles, hoping to cut them to pieces, and thus afford
his cavalry a safe landing. Benito ordered five gatling guns to silence
the field battery, and prevent, if possible, the landing of the
insurgent cavalry. Unfortunately, his orders could not be accomplished
smartly enough, and before the gatlings could be brought into position,
the field-guns of Xuarez had opened a heavy fire on the infantry, under
cover of which five hundred horse-men crossed the stream. The landing
once effected, others followed, and the cavalry rode down the infantry
like sheep, while right and left the balls from the field-guns of
Xuarez cut passages in the crowded masses. For the moment the advantage
was decidedly with Don Hypolito.

At once a thousand cavalry, held in reserve behind the battery, were
hurled forward on the horsemen of the rebels. Five hundred had now
crossed the stream, and there held the loyalists at bay while their
comrades formed. The rebel regiment pierced like a wedge into the mass
of infantry, and met the cavalry of Benito some distance from the bank
of the river. What with these horsemen, and the incessant firing of the
field-guns, the infantry of Benito were thoroughly demoralised, and
flying in all directions. The cavalry of Xuarez, with admirable
discipline, formed into lines as soon as they crossed the river, and
steadily drove the horsemen of the loyalists backward.

Xuarez at once took advantage of this gain, and, behind his cavalry,
sent regiment after regiment of infantry with orders to carry the
battery of Benito by storm. In vain the foot-soldiers of the loyalists
were hurled against the advancing mass of rebel horse and foot now
marching steadily for the battery. They did not give way one inch.
Xuarez hoped to capture the battery, turn the guns against the
loyalists, and then bringing the rest of his troops across the stream.

This unexpected manoeuvre had taken Benito by surprise, and there was
but little doubt that if the battery were captured a panic would ensue
amongst his own men, and thus give Xuarez a decided advantage. The
columns of rebels pouring across the stream pierced the host of
loyalists like a wedge and bore steadily down on the battery which was
still under the heavy fire of the insurgent artillery posted on the
sandhills.

Things looked black at that moment for the loyalist army, but at this
critical juncture the troops of Benito succeeded in forcing the passage
of the stream further up near the city. What the Opposidores had done
in the centre of the line they did at its end, and, under cover of a
heavy fire from their gatlings, managed to cross the stream and capture
the field-guns of the enemy. These were at once utilised and turned on
the rebels, and in a few minutes were pouring a deadly fire into the
masses of cavalry and infantry sent to hold the bridge passage by
Xuarez. An officer galloped post-haste to Benito, informing him of the
crossing of the stream, and the General recognising that he might cut
off the forces of Xuarez on the left bank, sent to the bridge all the
soldiers he could spare, amounting to some fifteen hundred.

Meanwhile the cavalry of Xuarez, supported by several regiments of
infantry, were trying to carry the battery of the loyalists by storm.
Their own artillery was now silent, as so inextricably mingled were
rebels and loyalists round the battery that it was impossible for the
gunners of Xuarez to fire without cutting their own men to pieces. The
rebels were still steadily pouring, column after column, across the
stream in the rear of the cavalry, when suddenly their line was cut in
two by the victorious loyalists from the bridge.

These had utterly beaten the rebels defending the passage, by turning
their own guns on them, and now those latter were flying towards the
centre of the scene of operations, followed by a scattered body of
cavalry, cutting them down in all directions. The loyalist infantry
quickly crossed the river, and followed in the rear of the horsemen,
but, being on foot, were necessarily far behind. The rebels attempted
to re-form and reach the point where their columns were fording the
stream but, flushed with victory, the cavalry of Benito passed clean
through the mass, cutting off all further rebels from joining their
comrades on the opposite shore.

At the same time, owing to the deadly fire of the loyalist battery, the
invading soldiers of Xuarez were beginning to give way, and slowly fell
back inch by inch towards the point where they had crossed. They were
unable to get back, however, as the cavalry of Benito held them in
check on the opposite bank, and seeing this, the General threw forward
two regiments across the stream further up, where the bank, owing to
the clean sweep made by his cavalry, was undefended.

The rebels now found themselves between two masses of their foes,
between two fires, with nothing but the river between. They slowly
retreated before the infantry, pressing forward from the direction of
the battery, and falling back on the right bank of the river, found
themselves unable to cross in the teeth of the loyalist cavalry holding
the opposite bank, while the foot-soldiers behind fought viciously with
the rebels. The cavalry and infantry of Xuarez thus caught became
demoralized, and unable to keep a firm front to the loyalists, broke up
into terrified masses, which were either cut to pieces, or forced into
the stream, where they were shot down by their enemies on the opposite
bank.

It was now close on six o'clock, and, after five hours' incessant
fighting, the advantage was now with the army of the Junta. Benito held
the passage of the bridge near Centeotl, and from thence down to the
battery, the banks of the stream on both sides were held by his own
men. The enemy beaten on the right bank, were slowly falling back on
the left, and concentrating themselves round the hillocks, from which
thundered their artillery. Behind the battery, Xuarez still held three
thousand men in reserve, and these he brought forward, with the
intention of hurling them in one last effort of despair, against the
advancing masses of the loyalists.

General Benito no longer held back his army, but in person led his
soldiers across the river. In a miraculously short space of time the
combat was transferred from the right to the left bank of the Rio
Tardo, and the whole force of the loyalists, with the exception of the
corps of engineers attending to the battery, had crossed the river, and
were pressing forward to carry the citadel of Xuarez by storm.

What with killed and wounded, and prisoners taken, the number of
fighting men on either side was terribly reduced; yet, numerically
speaking, the advantage lay with the loyalists, who could oppose seven
thousand men to four thousand on the part of Xuarez. Confident in his
position, and in the shelter afforded by the sandhills, Don Hypolito
gathered his four thousand round the base of his batteries, and played
his guns with deadly effect on the advancing masses of the loyalists
over the heads of his own men. It was now a hand-to-hand struggle, and
though the loyalists had the advantage over the rebels in numbers, yet
as they were unable to bring their guns across the river, the combat
was more or less equalised. The deadly fire from the sandhills played
havoc with their ranks, and they were mowed down in hundreds. Having no
artillery to oppose these guns, and being unable to silence them by the
battery on the opposite bank, the only hope of thrashing the enemy lay
in carrying the sandhills by storm. This Benito, with desperate
courage, now proceeded to do.

As yet, Xuarez had managed to keep the loyalists in front, and
gathering his lines from the river bank to some distance into the
plain, desperately resisted the attempts of the attacking force to
break through and storm the battery. To protect his rear from the river
side, he sent two hundred cavalry to the back of the sandhills, to
guard the stream lest any straggling parties of loyalists should cross
at that point and assail him unexpectedly. He was now entirely on the
defensive, and, unless he succeeded in putting the loyalists to flight
with his artillery, saw not how he could hope to win the victory.

How bitterly did he regret the desertion of the Indians, the cause of
which disaffection he could not understand. With them coming from the
north, he might have effected a conjunction by crossing the river as he
had done, and thus captured the battery of Benito. As it was, however,
his soldiers had been beaten back, the loyalists had crossed the river,
and now his whole force was concentrated round the sandhills, upon
which was placed his artillery.

In his despair, Don Hypolito longed for the darkness, in the hope that
under cover of the night he might be enabled to fall back on Janjalla.
Long since he would have done this but for the timely information that
the town was blockaded by the warships of the Junta. It seemed like
madness to retreat into such a death-trap, and yet if it could hold out
against the bombardment until he arrived, he would at least have walls
behind which to fight. He regretted intensely that he had not captured
Centeotl and thrown himself therein to defend himself against the
loyalists. Surrounded by stone walls, he could hope to wear out the
troops of the Republic, and perhaps destroy them in detachments, but as
it was he had no shelter. His whole front was being assaulted by the
loyalists, and behind he had but his battery and a possible chance of
falling back on Janjalla in the night-time.

The whole plain from Centeotl to the point of action was now in the
hands of the loyalists, and seeing this the Jefe Politico of the city
threw open the gates and sent forward men with provisions and wine to
the wearied troops. Three hundred soldiers yet remained within the
walls, and these also marched out to join the army of the Republic, and
attack Xuarez in his last position. It was now past seven o'clock, and
the darkness was rapidly coming on. Don Hypolito hoped that the
loyalists would withdraw and renew the combat next day. In the
interval, his men could rest and sustain themselves with food or fall
back at once on Janjalla.

This respite, however, Benito declined to give. While the light lasted,
he determined to keep up the fight, and if possible dislodge Xuarez
from his position before the morning. Deeply did he regret that he had
no electric lights, by the glare of which to conduct the battle; but as
it was he took advantage of the clear twilight, and pushed forward his
men vigorously in attempting to break down the stubborn line of defence
offered by Don Hypolito.

It is questionable how long this state of things would have lasted, as
the rebels obstinately fought on, and though Benito hurled column after
column against them, not one inch would they yield. The artillery also,
from the heights above, was sweeping down his rearward troops. He sent
one thousand across the river again, to attempt the rear of the enemy,
under cover of the fire of fifteen gatlings, but Xuarez turned four
heavy guns on the passage of the river, and stopped the crossing with
ease.

"Carrajo!" muttered Benito, shutting up his glass in a rage, "they will
hold out till it is dark, and then we must stop. During the night they
will fall back on Janjalla."

"And into the hands of our men!" replied Jack, who was standing beside
the general. "No, Señor, Don Hypolito knows it is worse than useless to
retreat from his present position. When the morning dawns, you will
find him still on those hills."

"Bueno! All the same, Don Juan, I would like to finish him off
to-night."

"Then send scouts from Centeotl to see if our men are advancing from
Janjalla."

"It might be that the city is not taken."

"That is true. On the other hand, it might be that the city is."

Coincidences occur in real life as well as in novels and here occurred
a case in point. Tim, who had been to Centeotl to make inquiries,
galloped up to Benito at this moment and saluted.

"General," he said rapidly, "messengers have just arrived from
Janjalla. The city is in the hands of the Junta, and our troops, to the
number of two thousand, are pushing forward by forced marches."

"Janjalla in our hands?" cried Benito, joyfully. "Then Xuarez has no
refuge on which to fall back."

The army shouted on hearing this cheering news, and looked upon the
destruction of the rebels as a foregone conclusion, as indeed it was.
Xuarez heard the shouting, and, becoming aware of the cause by the
frequent cries of "Janjalla," ground his teeth with rage, as he saw how
fortune was against him.

"Señores," he said to his officers, "we are condemned to stay here.
There is now no hope of falling back on the seaport. We can but face
the enemy, and fight bravely. I should have heard of this fall before,
as my scouts are all over the country to Janjalla."

Nevertheless, in spite of this discouraging news, he urged his men to
fight bravely, hoping that the night would come, and force the
loyalists to withdraw for some hours. In that time his army could rest
and eat, while he himself might think of some plan by which to
circumvent the tactics of General Benito. He was quite ignorant that
two thousand men were marching from Janjalla to attack him in the rear.

The last glimmer of the sunset had long since died out of the sky, and
it was now comparatively dark. As yet, the reinforcements from Janjalla
had not arrived and Benito was almost on the point of ceasing the fight
till dawn, when the moon arose in the west. Her appearance was welcomed
by him with joy, for her light was quite brilliant enough to enable the
assaulting party to continue fighting; and incessantly pressing on the
wearied troops of Xuarez seemed the only chance of beating him from the
sandhills and scattering his army. Don Hypolito cursed the moon
audibly, for he saw that his last chance of escaping in the darkness
was gone. Nothing remained for him but to fight on doggedly.

Then his scouts arrived, and he learned that in an hour two thousand
men would attack him in the rear. With a cry of rage, he hurled his
field-glass down the hill.

"Fortune is against me," he muttered, biting his lip with wrath; "my
star goes down in blood. Attacked front and rear, I cannot hold out
much longer."

Yet he was too brave to give in, and, seeing that the town of Centeotl
was left defenceless, as its garrison had joined Benito, he hoped to
make a detour, and throw himself with his remaining troops into the
city. One thousand men he could leave to defend the battery and draw
off the attention of the loyalists, and with his remaining two thousand
march silently away to the south, then make a detour for the city. Then
the reinforcements would come up in vain, for he and his men would have
slipped away like an eel from between the two armies. He never thought
of the fate of the thousand men he was leaving behind. But at that
moment he would have given anything to gain time to reconstruct his
plans, and would have sacrificed a million lives so that his campaign
should not end in disaster.

This mad scheme to occupy Centeotl in the teeth of the enemy was
destined to fail for lack of time. Before he could move a single column
towards the city, the sound of distant firing was heard, and the
reinforcements came up in the rear at a quick trot. The whole force of
Xuarez was disposed along the front of the battery, protecting it from
the assaults of Benito's army. Undefended in the rear, save for two
hundred cavalry guarding the river, it offered itself freely to the
reinforcements for storming. Don Hypolito brought round troops rapidly
from the front to oppose this new danger. The cavalry dashed recklessly
between the battery and the advancing infantry from Janjalla. Three
guns, with depressed muzzles, rained down shot on the masses of
infantry. It was all in vain. The fresh troops, elated by the fall of
Janjalla, and the crossing of the river by General Benito, passed clean
over the thin line of cavalry drawn up to beat them back. A mass of men
obliterating man and horse, rolled upward towards the hastily formed
lines of weary soldiers, brought round from the front to protect the
rear. These succumbed in a few minutes, and the guns no longer being
able to do damage by reason of the enemy being directly under their
muzzles, the reinforcements swarmed up the slanting slope of the
sandhills with cries of victory.

Benito heard those cries, and at once guessed that the troops from
Janjalla were carrying the battery by storm. Hitherto he had been
holding five hundred cavalry and two thousand infantry in reserve.
These were now brought forward and hurled on the soldiers of Xuarez
massed at the foot of the sandhills. The rebels looked in front, and
saw this mass threatening to overwhelm them; they looked behind, and
lo! over the brow of the sandhills poured a black crowd of men over
whose heads floated the yellow standard of the Republic. The guns were
silenced, the gunners bayoneted, and the red flag of Xuarez dragged
from its pole at the top of the hill. Xuarez himself, surrounded by a
ring of his officers, waved his sword for a moment, and then the wave
of men passed over him. A cry spread throughout the host of rebels that
he was lost. The men at the base of the sandhills, seeing the wave of
men rolling downward, lost heart and broke up into scattered masses. On
came the army of Benito, and between the two forces the insurgents
crumpled up like paper.

In all directions they fled like sheep, and were chased for miles by
the victorious Republicans. Benito, a merciful man, strove to restrain
the zeal of his soldiers. It was all in vain, they were drunken with
victory, and sabred and shot the wretched fugitives without mercy. The
smoke hung heavily over the field of battle, and when it cleared away,
the victorious troops of the Junta saw the great standard of the
Republic floating proudly in the place lately occupied by the battery
of the enemy.

Don Hypolito had disappeared, his army, broken to pieces, was flying in
all directions. From the triumphant army massed round the sandhills,
rose a roar of joy which made the earth tremble. The wind which had
blown away the smoke, shook out the folds of the opal flag, and the
Cholacacans saluted the invincible banner with cheers.

"Viva el opale! Viva el Republica!"




CHAPTER IX.

THE TRIUMPH OF THE REPUBLIC.

    Mars, god of war,
    Whom we abhor,
    Hath doffed his helm,
    And laid his lance and shield aside.
    He will no more
    Lay waste our store,
    Nor overwhelm
    Our lands beneath his crimson tide.

    Peace comes anon,
    Now war hath gone,
    Her olive bough
    Of gentleness and quiet she brings
    Beneath her sway,
    No deadly fray
    Can fright us now;
    From battle plains the harvest springs.


Three weeks after that memorable victory at Centeotl, the city of
Tlatonac was holding high festival in honour of the triumphant Junta.
Every street was illuminated and decorated with flowers. In the
principal places, fireworks, so dear to the hearts of the Cholacacans
were being let off, and the ships lying in the harbour were brilliant
with lights. The populace in their gayest attire walked singing through
the streets, visited the pulque shops, and gathered in groups to
indulge in their national dances. Bands stationed in different squares,
played the Opal Fandango, The March of Zuloaga, and soldiers, the
heroes of the hour, were to be seen everywhere, being fêted and
caressed by the grateful citizens.

Before the Palacio Nacional a dense crowd had collected, and the place
itself, brilliantly lighted up, was occupied by a gaily dressed throng.
His Excellency the President was giving a ball in honour of the
establishment of peace. On one of the balconies Jack and Dolores were
seated, watching the varied throng below, and talking of past events.
For the hundredth time Dolores was asking Jack about the battle, and
all that had taken place thereat.

"I am sure, Dolores, you must be wearied of this more than twice-told
tale."

"No, Juanito! It is a tale of which I never weary. Come, querido, tell
me once more. Begin, 'After the battle----'"

"After the battle," repeated Jack, humouring her fancy. "Well, the
first thing we did after the battle was to search for the body of Don
Xuarez. He had been last seen on the summit of the sandhill by his
battery. When the reinforcements took that position by storm, Xuarez
vanished, and though we searched everywhere for his body, it could not
be found."

"So then you knew that he had escaped?"

"It was presumed so; but even now we are not certain as to what has
become of him. However, he had vanished; and giving up the search for
him, dead or alive, in despair, General Benito left a few hundred men
to garrison Centeotl, and pushed on at once to Janjalla. In the harbour
we found the fleet, which had captured the town by bombarding it, and
Captain Pedraza, under instructions from Benito, took the ships back to
Tlatonac."

"Ah, I remember how joyful we were when they entered the harbour and
announced the victory. Everyone in Tlatonac was mad with joy."

"Dios! They are mad enough to-night," said Jack, smiling, as he looked
down on the crowd; "but under the circumstances, I think it is
excusable. The fall of Acauhtzin, the last stronghold of the
Opposidores, is worth being excited about. Did Rafael tell you all
about it, Dolores?"

"Not so much as he might have done," pouted Dolores, unfurling her fan;
"but you see, Juan, there is Doña Carmencita----"

"Of course! Poor girl! Fancy her father being killed when the city was
being bombarded!"

"A great loss, was it not?" sighed Dolores, her eyes filling with
tears. "Ay di mi. How sad would I feel had I lost my dear uncle."

"It is the fortune of war," said Jack, calmly. "Instead of our troops
capturing Acauhtzin and killing Tejada, it might have been Xuarez
storming Tlatonac and shooting Don Miguel. One thing, at least, Doña
Carmencita has to be grateful for: Rafael rescued her unharmed from the
burning city, and now she is to be his wife."

"And I am to be yours!"

"Yes; and Eulalia is to be Philip's," finished Jack, promptly. "I
thought Don Miguel would never give his consent to that marriage."

"Eh, Juanito!" said Dolores, with a mischievous smile, "I think my
uncle did so to console Don Felipe for losing his chance of being at
the battle."

"Poor Philip! Only one battle of any consequence, and he missed it by
being away at Truxillo."

At this moment Dolores was summoned away from her lover by Doña
Serafina. The old lady was a very severe duenna when not asleep, and as
Dolores was yet unmarried, did not approve of her being too much in the
society of her future husband. A little jealousy was mingled with this
strict regard for etiquette, as Doña Serafina had utterly failed to
fascinate Peter. All her smiles and insinuating remarks had been quite
thrown away on the little doctor, who showed no disposition for
matrimony, and scrupulously ignored the languishing looks of his
elderly admirer. Finally, Serafina gave up the pursuit of this medical
male as a bad job, and revenged herself indirectly on the sex by being
particularly sharp with Eulalia and Dolores, both of whom were rarely
permitted to be more than a few minutes with their respective lovers.
These last blamed Peter in no measured terms for thus depriving them of
the society of their future wives; but the doctor absolutely refused to
sacrifice himself any longer on the altar of friendship. He announced
this in a conversation which took place in the patio of Casa Maraquando
after the ball.

"I would do anything for you I could," he explained plaintively to Jack
and Philip; "but I really cannot go on paying attention to Doña
Serafina. She thinks I am in earnest!"

"And so you ought to be, you little monster," said Tim, quickly. "It's
time you were married."

"Well, then, why don't you set the example?"

"It's easy talking! I have no one to love me."

"Journalism is a jealous mistress," observed Philip, laughing. "Tim is
devoted to 'Articles from a Special Correspondent.'"

"True for you," replied Tim, complacently; "but my occupation's gone.
Didn't I send my last article about 'The Fall of Acauhtzin' from
Janjalla? and isn't the war over?"

"The war is certainly over!" said Jack, lighting a cigarette; "but the
danger of another war is not yet past."

"What do you mean, Jack?"

"Don Hypolito still lives; and while he lives, the Republic is not
safe."

"Still lives!" echoed Philip, in surprise. "Why, Jack, I don't see how
you can make that out. He was not found on the field of battle, nor in
Janjalla, nor in Acauhtzin. He must be dead!"

"No; Don Hypolito is not the man to die so easily. Where he is, I do
not know, but I am certain he is yet alive."

There was silence for a few minutes, as each was busy with his own
thoughts regarding the probable resurrection of Xuarez. After the
battle of Centeotl, he had vanished utterly from the face of the earth.
It was thought he had fled to Janjalla, or perchance to Acauhtzin; but
in neither of those towns could he be discovered. After a bombardment
of five hours, the latter city had surrendered to the warships. Don
Josè, the Governor, in the absence of Xuarez, had been killed by the
bursting of a bomb, and many of his officers had shared the same fate.
Of Xuarez, however, nothing could be discovered, and Don Miguel was
much disturbed thereat. With a restless spirit like the rebel leader
still working in secret, the danger was not yet at an end, and the
President was determined to spare no effort to bring Xuarez, to
justice. While the four friends were thinking over this matter, Don
Rafael, who had been holding a private conversation with his father,
entered the patio.

That young man was the hero of the bombardment of Acauhtzin. He had
recovered Doña Carmencita; his father had consented to his speedy
marriage with that lady, and he was idolised by his fellow-citizens.
With all this good fortune, he should have been gay and lighthearted;
but as he entered the patio, he certainly looked anything but happy.

"Dios! What ails you, Rafael?" asked Jack, as his friend threw himself
into a seat, and sighed heavily. "Anything wrong?"

"Carambo! Everything is wrong. My father refuses his consent to our
marriages."

"What?" interrupted Philip and Jack, in dismay.

"Till Xuarez is discovered and punished," finished Rafael, dismally.

"Ah!" said Philip, with a breath of relief, "it might have been worse.
I thought you were about to say Don Miguel had refused his consent
altogether."

"Dios! I don't know if it does not amount to that," replied Rafael,
shrugging his shoulders. "How are we to find this ladron of a Xuarez?
He is not at Acauhtzin. He is not in the south. Where then are we to
look for him?"

"Can you not find out?----"

"I can find out nothing, mi amigo. For my part, I believe he is dead."

"For my part, Señor Rafael, I believe he is alive," retorted Tim,
gruffly.

"Eh! And where do you think he is to be found, Señor Correspoñsal?"

"Quien sabe," said Tim, carelessly. "But you know, Señor, that after
the battle of Centeotl, I rode to Janjalla, to wire my report to
England?"

"Yes."

"While there, I heard two prisoners talking. They, deeming me to be a
foreigner, and not knowing that I was conversant with Spanish, spoke
freely."

"Bueno! And they said?----"

"Nothing about Don Hypolito, but talked of Pepe."

"Pepe!" echoed Philip, quickly. "The zambo who decoyed Dolores from
Tlatonac--the lover of Marina?"

"The same. Pepe, it appears, had followed Xuarez to Janjalla, being,
as we know, the prince of spies. When _The Cortes_ was taken, and
Xuarez was thus cut off from getting back to Acauhtzin, Pepe happened
to be in Janjalla. The troops of Xuarez were wondering, in the case of
defeat, how they could escape from the hands of our men. Pepe laughed,
on hearing their doubts, and said he could easily escape to Totatzine."

"To Totatzine?"

"To the sacred city. He said no one could follow him there, and that he
knew of a secret way in the south, which would take him thither."

"But, Jack, the secret way you came is to the north of Tlatonac," said
Philip turning towards Duval.

"Very true! But for a long time I have had my suspicions that there is
a second way to that city, by the cañon road, of which I told you. It
is by that way, to my mind, that Pepe intended to go."

"Yes, mi amigo!" said Rafael, triumphantly; "but you quite forget. Pepe
was captured in the south, after the battle of Centeotl, and is now in
prison at Tlatonac, awaiting punishment."

"Very true! He did not escape to Totatzine, as he intended. But where
was he captured? At the battle of Centeotl. Now, seeing that Don
Hypolito has disappeared, it is just possible that Pepe told him of the
second secret way to the sacred city, and that Xuarez may have escaped
thence."

"Dios!" exclaimed Rafael, springing to his feet. "Think you, Señor
Correspoñsal, that this dog is now at Totatzine?"

"I am not sure, but it might be so. Ixtlilxochitli is his friend. There
he would be safe, and if at the battle of Centeotl Pepe told him of
this southern way to the city, when he saw that all was lost, he
probably took advantage of the information."

"Why not find out if this is so, from Pepe?" suggested Jack, when Tim
ceased speaking.

"He will tell nothing," replied Rafael, in disgust. "This zambo is a
mule for obstinacy."

"We might try, at all events," said Philip, cheerfully. "Where is Pepe,
mi amigo?"

"In the prison of the Palacio Nacional. If you think, Señores, there is
any chance of getting information from the zambo, let us seek him now."

"Why to-night?" said Peter, looking at his watch, "or rather this
morning. It is two o'clock. You are all weary with the ball. Better
wait till to-morrow."

"No!" exclaimed Rafael, throwing his heavy cloak over his shoulder. "We
will go now. My father absolutely refuses to let any of us marry until
we discover Xuarez. I want to know where he is to be found at once,
otherwise I shall get no rest. As for you, señor----"

"I will come, by all means," said Philip, putting on his sombrero. "It
is also to my interest to find Xuarez, else I may not marry your
sister, Rafael."

"We will all go!" said Jack, rising to his feet. "Tim, you may get some
copy, and make an article of it--'The Confessions of a Spy.' Peter, you
can go to bed, as this matter does not interest you in the least."

"Oh, doesn't it?" said Peter, indignantly. "I am as anxious as you are
to see you married, Jack. But with your permission, I shall go to bed,
because I do not think you'll get any information out of Pepe."

"We'll try, at all events," observed Philip, emphatically. "I want to
marry Eulalia."

"And I," said Juan, following his friends to the door, "want to do
three things, none of which I can accomplish unless Pepe tells us of
the secret way."

"And the three things, Jack?" asked Tim, curiously.

"First, I want to marry Dolores. Second, I desire to save the life of
Cocom, who is a prisoner at Totatzine; and, third, I am anxious to
obtain possession again of the harlequin opal."




CHAPTER X.

THE CAÑON ROAD.

    This is a tropical forest,
    Where myriad leaves forming a roof overhead, keep out the
        effulgence of sunlight,
    So that beneath is the region of shadows and dimness;
    Yet in this spectral twilight rise cities, magnificent,
        lonely;
    Built in the far-distant days of giants--great architects
        they!
    Sky-piercing pyramids, plinth, and column, and capital.
    Line upon line of pillars, that loom in the darkness eternal,
    Staircases huge, vast halls, and temples majestical;
    Now no longer receiving the throngs of worshippers holy,
    Only the bat flits through the ruins; ravenous beasts now
        wander
    Through street, and square, and palaces gorgeous.
    Who built all these splendours? We know not who built them.
    Yet do they loom in the twilight region of shadows,
    Encircled by tropical forests.


As a rule, Dr. Grench was an early riser, and denied himself the
luxurious idleness of morning slumbers, but on this special occasion he
did not wake at his usual hour. The dancing of the previous night had
proved too much for the virtuous Peter, who always went to bed early,
consequently he was very tired, and by no means pleased at being
awakened unexpectedly by Jack. Peter was in the middle of a delightful
dream, in which he was hunting unusually large beetles. After a time,
however, the beetles began to hunt Peter, and one, having caught him,
was shaking him severely. The shaking woke him up, and the beetle
changed to Jack, who was trying to pull Peter out of bed.

"What's matter?" grumbled Peter vaguely, struggling into a sitting
position. "I don't want to get up."

"You must," said Jack, serenely, "or we shall start without you."

"Start? what? where? when? Beetle-hunting?"

"Peter, you are not awake! What do you mean by such delirious talk? Put
on your clothes, and come down to breakfast. We're all waiting."

Jack vanished, and Peter, wondering what was the matter, got out of bed
with manifest reluctance. A cold bath drove the fumes of sleep from his
head, and dressing rapidly, he repaired to the dining-room, where he
found his friends and Rafael making a hasty meal. Peter stared, and
began to ask questions.

"Now what is----?"

"Oh, here's Peter," said Philip, looking up with a smile. "Come on,
sluggard, and have something to eat. We are going to Cuavaca by train."

"Train!" repeated the doctor, taking his seat. "What train?"

"Jack's train, you idiot," said Tim, giving Peter a dig in the ribs.
"Your wits are wandering!"

"I think yours must be," retorted Peter, addressing the company
collectively. "What is the meaning of this early rising?"

"We are going to Cuavaca."

"Never heard of it."

"Then you hear of it now," said Jack, crossly; "how stupid you are,
Peter. I will explain: we saw Pepe, the zambo, last night, and on
condition that his life is spared, he has promised to guide us to the
city of Totatzine by this second secret way."

"Oh! and Cuavaca?"

"Cuavaca is a town thirty miles inland. The railway line is laid down
to that place, and twenty miles beyond. We are taking a thousand troops
to Cuavaca, and intend to leave them there, while Pepe shows us the
cañon road. Then we will lead them by that way to Totatzine, save
Cocom, take Xuarez prisoner, and secure the opal."

"But," said Peter, argumentatively, "is the end of your railway near
this hidden city? or does a trackless forest lie between the terminus
and the cañon road?"

Jack made a diagram on the tablecloth with knives and plates.

"Look, Peter! This is Tlatonac. This Cuavaca. We go to the latter place
by rail. From Cuavaca the railway is constructed another twenty miles,
and stops in the middle of a vast forest. Here, according to Pepe, is
Totatzine, sunken out of sight in its hollow valley. Between the end of
the railway and Totatzine is a distance of twenty miles, more or
less----"

"Of tangled forest and brushwood!"

"Nothing of the sort. Don't I tell you Pepe has promised to show us the
secret way--the other secret way? The entrance is from a ruined city,
about a mile to the right of the railway works. We find out that city,
take our men from Cuavaca to it, and thence march up the cañon road to
Totatzine."

"Dios! Don Juan!" exclaimed Rafael, who had been looking at Jack's
table-map. "It seems to me that if the railway goes on it will pass by
and reveal this hidden city."

"Not it. Had there been a chance of its doing so, we would have had
trouble with the Indians pulling up the rails. No, mi amigo. The line
is surveyed a long distance further on. If it turned to the right, it
might certainly hit Totatzine; but, as you see, it trends to the left,
and if used for a century could never reveal the existence of the
sacred city. Ixtlilxochitli saw that, and did not mind the railway
passing, so to speak, by his door. The city is too well hidden by its
encircling mountains and by the windings of the cañon to be discovered
without special exploration."

"But it seems to me awfully stupid that the priests should take so much
trouble over the one secret way and never bother about the other."

This observation of Philip's seemed to strike Jack, and he reflected a
few moments before he replied.

"What you say is very true, Philip," he replied slowly; "the secret way
leading to the sea is very complicated, and even then the priests
always blindfold pilgrims on the platform. This other road, leading
from the ruined city, must be blocked up by rubbish, and what not.
There is a wall across the entrance to the cañon, but it is pierced by
a gate always open. No one comes by the narrow track, so I expect the
entrance to that road has been choked up, and the way fallen into
disuse."

"Then how did Pepe find it out?"

"Lord knows! But the secret must be his alone else the priests would
have destroyed the cañon path leading to the pierced wall, and so cut
off communication entirely from that side of the town."

"I hope Pepe is not leading us into an ambush," said Peter, anxiously,
as they arose to go.

"If he does, it will cost him his life," replied Philip, grimly. "Pepe,
my dear doctor, marches before us with a pistol at his head. The first
signs of treachery, and he falls dead. I don't think he'll risk that
catastrophe."

By this time Peter had concluded his breakfast, and they all set out to
the Puerta de la Culebra, near which, beyond the walls, was the railway
station. On the previous night Pepe, under promise of his life being
spared, had admitted that Don Hypolito had fled northward overland to
Totatzine, gaining the city by the inland secret way. This road Pepe
promised to reveal on condition that the President spared his life.
Next morning, Rafael told his father of the offer, and, as Don Miguel
was anxious to capture Xuarez, he readily assented to the proposition
of the zambo.

Of course the six thousand Indians, who had been disbanded by the
influence of the opal, were not in the sacred city. Their villages were
far to the north, near Acauhtzin, and as they only came south to the
festivals of the opal, by the secret way of the sea, it was unlikely
that the troops led by Rafael and Jack would encounter any resistance.
The forests where the railway ended, and where, according to Pepe, the
cañon road began, were singularly devoid of population. This might have
been caused by the jealousy of the priests, lest some wandering Indians
should find the entrance to the cañon road from the ruined city. If so,
this jealous suspicion caused their ruin; for, had the district been
infested with Indians, they, seeing an unusual concourse of soldiers at
Cuavaca, would at once have warned the priests of the intended invasion
of Totatzine. Then the cañon road could have been easily defended
against the troops from Tlatonac by a small body of defenders, and the
disaster averted. As it was, however, the inhabitants of the sacred
city were entirely ignorant of their danger until the foe was under
their walls.

The railway line was completed as far as Cuavaca, a little inland
village which promised to shortly develop into a city, owing to its
being the future starting place, whence lines were to run north and
south throughout the whole length of Cholacaca. From the capital to
this terminus extended a vast plain for over thirty miles, so that
there was no difficulty in laying the line, and it had been speedily
completed under the vigorous superintendence of Jack. There were no
engineering difficulties to be overcome, and the railway ran easily in
a straight line over the plains to the foot of the volcano Xicotencatl,
where Cuavaca was situated. From this point began a rugged and
mountainous country, which extended northward as far as Acauhtzin.
Twenty miles of railway had been constructed with great difficulty, as,
owing to the configuration of the country, the line was singularly
curving and irregular. Bridges had to be built across cañons, tunnels
had to be pierced through solid rock, and embankments, faced with stone
walls, constructed where the ground fell away rapidly to moderately
sized plains. The district was situated in the tierra templada, about
ten thousand feet above sea level; but, the grade constantly ascending
as the iron road went northward, it was calculated by Jack that the
last portion of the way would run some short distance below the snow
line of the tierra friá.

This expedition to capture Totatzine was not without its dangers. It
was the season of festival and the sacred city would doubtless be
filled with fanatical worshippers, who would fiercely resist the
attempted seizure of their shrines. A thousand well-armed infantry were
sent to Cuavaca by Don Miguel, and, leaving these quartered in the
village, Jack, with his three friends and Rafael, guided by Pepe, went
forward to search for the secret entrance. When this was found, they
intended to return and take the troops by railway twenty miles, and
thence lead them by the secret entrance up the cañon road. When this
was done, a reinforcement of another thousand soldiers was to arrive at
Cuavaca, and await instructions there, lest the first should fail to
capture the city. The engines running on the line from Cuavaca were
singularly powerful machines, strongly built, so as to ascend the
gradient to the northward, and there were plenty of trucks in which
troops could be taken to the end of the railway. Jack also had a few
carriages shifted from the Cuavaca line to that running northward, so
that the whole body of soldiers now stationed at the little town could
be conveyed to the hoped-for entrance of the cañon road in a remarkably
short space of time.

By noon all the troops were quartered at Cuavaca, and then Jack started
by the northern line for the cañon road. He only took an engine with
one carriage, so as to travel as rapidly as possible. At first he
wanted to go forward himself with Pepe, but Philip would in no way
consent to his doing this.

"You can't trust that zambo, Jack," he said, decisively; "he might take
advantage of your being alone, and knock you on the head."

"Scarcely, when I am armed and he is not. If only we two go, we can
travel on the engine. If you all come, I must fix on a carriage."

"Well, that won't make much difference," retorted Philip, quickly. "We
are all keen on the business, and want to see how matters turn out.
Tim, Peter, Rafael, and myself are all coming with you, Jack; so hitch
on a carriage to your engine right away."

This was accordingly done without further objection on the part of
Duval, and they left Cuavaca about one o'clock, travelling rapidly so
as to reach the terminus with as little delay as possible. According to
Pepe, it would take some hours for them to discover the ruined city,
and they did not expect to return before six o'clock. Then it would
have to be decided whether they would take the troops on to the ruined
city at once, or wait till the next day.

Cuavaca was situate at the base of the great volcano Xicotencatl, which
reared its white peak high above the surrounding mountains. North and
south stretched ranges from the central point with summits more or less
covered with snow, and from Cuavaca began dense forests which clothed
the slopes of these mighty hills. Leaving the village by the side
towards the north, the engine with its solitary carriage ran through a
moderately long tunnel piercing a high range of hills, which shot
outward at right angles from the principal mountains. From thence it
emerged on to a deep valley, and skirted the side of the hills in a
winding track cut out of the solid rock. Jack was on board the engine
with the driver, personally superintending the journey, and his three
friends with Rafael were admiring the view from the windows of the
carriage. Pepe, guarded by two soldiers, was seated at the end of the
carriage, and looked anything but cheerful under such surveillance.

The scenery was truly wonderful. Sliding along the side of the
mountains, those in the carriage looking out, saw not the line on which
they were running, but looked down eight or nine hundred feet into the
depths below. Sometimes the line was built of solid masonry clamped
with iron, and it was anything but pleasant to think how the train was
clinging like a fly to the perpendicular sides of the giant hills.
Below swirled rapid torrents raging over black rocks, or flowing in
broad streams between flat mud-banks. The engine would proceed along a
level for some distance, then pant slowly up an ascending gradient;
suddenly turning a sharp curve, she would shoot breathlessly down a
decline on to a long narrow bridge thrown across a wide expanse of
river bed intersected by thin streams, which at time of rain joined
their forces into one vast flood. Owing to the infinite windings of the
line, it was built on the narrow gauge system, so as to permit the
quick turning of curves, and when the engine, leaning to one side, shot
round these turnings, the sensation was anything but pleasant.

"It's a most wonderful line, so far as engineering goes," said Philip,
drawing back from the window with a sudden qualm, as the carriage
rocked dangerously; "but it is devilishly unpleasant. If we went over!"

"There wouldn't be much of us left," said Tim grimly. "Begad, Philip,
I've been in a mighty lot of railway trains, but this line of Jack's
beats Banagher, and Banagher beats the devil."

"Santissima!" said Rafael, uneasily, "I trust, Señores this devil of an
engine will not fall over the cliff."

"I'd never travel on this line for pleasure," cried Peter, who was
seated on the opposite side to the precipice for safety; "nor do I
think it will be much patronised by people when opened."

"The sea for me," remarked Philip, thankfully; "anything but being
boxed up in this place, with a chance of falling five or six thousand
feet without hope of getting out of the carriage."

In truth the journey was singularly unpleasant in many places. Jack had
constructed his line thoroughly well; but there was no denying that the
sudden turns, the unexpected descents, the narrow bridges, and the
frequent tunnels, were enough to shake the nerves of the strongest man.
On all sides arose the snow-clad peaks, far below ran rivers, spread
forests, gaped cañons and between heaven and earth crawled the train,
holding on to the sides of mountains. The colours and lights sweeping
over the scenery were exquisite, the landscape below, above, was grand
and impressive, but the four men in the carriage felt somewhat nervous
at this tremendous journey. In ordinary cases, they were brave enough,
and prepared for any emergency; but boxed up in this carriage they felt
helpless should an accident occur. As to Jack, he was used to such
travelling, and looked at his work with great pride.

At length the engine shot from a deep and narrow cutting into the
depths of a broad-spreading forest, clothing a deep valley. Through its
centre ran a torrent, and the line skirted this to the left, through
dense woodland, towards the high peaks of a mountain in the far
distance. Midway in this valley the engine slowed down, and ultimately
stopped. Philip, looking out of the window, saw a wide clearing, with
upturned soil, fallen trees, and here and there huts erected. It was
the terminus of the railway; and, thankful to have arrived in safety,
they all jumped out on to the sward with alacrity.

Beyond this clearing appeared a track cut through the forest, trending
in the direction of the distant peaks, but the line stopped at the
beginning of this avenue. Scattered rails, piles of sleepers, the
abrupt termination of the line, showed that it went no further. Between
this point and the unknown city of Totatzine intervened a distance of
twenty miles. The little party, with their guns and revolvers all in
order, stood looking around them at the unfinished line. Pepe, guarded
by the two soldiers, was sullen and watchful.

"And where is Totatzine?" said Rafael, staring round this wilderness of
trees.

Pepe pointed to the north-east, beyond the peaks.

"It is there, Señor. In the hollow of the hills."

"And the buried city?"

"Bueno! I will show it to you, Señores."

"One moment, Pepe," said Jack, staying the zambo, as he turned off to
the left, "how can you tell the way to this city from here?"

"Dios! Señor Americano, I escaped from Totatzine to this place four
months ago. I was sent by Don Hypolito before the war to the priest
Ixtlilxochitli, and he detained me in the city. I could not find the
secret way to the sea, and one night went out through the wall on to
the cañon road. It led me many miles along the side of the cliffs, then
down a staircase into a forest; at length, Señores, it took me through
a tunnel. I had to climb over some rubbish of stones and earth up
another staircase, and found myself in a large city of ruins. Leaving
that, I pushed through the forest to the left, and came upon this
clearing, where I found the men of the Señor Americano at work. They
took me to Tlatonac, and there I remained till I went to Acauhtzin with
Marina, as the Señor knows."

"Did you tell my men of your discovery of this way?" asked Jack,
abruptly.

"No, Señor Americano. I feared the vengeance of the priests."

"Was the railway at this point four months ago, Jack?" asked Philip,
looking round at the clearing.

"Yes. There was a possibility of war, and I was just going to England
to get you to come here. The works were left in the condition you now
see them. If this zambo escaped, as he says, he could easily have
reached Tlatonac from this point."

"Bueno!" said Rafael, in a satisfied tone, "thus far his story is true.
Let us go forward, amigos."

Jack made a sign to Pepe, who at once proceeded to walk towards the
woods on the left, guarded by the two soldiers. His escort was well
armed, so the zambo did not try to escape, knowing that before he could
run a few yards he would have a bullet in his skull. The rest of the
party followed, keeping their revolvers handy, in case of a possible
surprise from Indians. They saw none, however, as the forest was
completely deserted by all humanity. Pepe pushed forward through the
brushwood, and they followed. In case they should lose their way, they
blazed the trees with the hatchets with which they had taken care to
provide themselves. Jack was resolved not to trust the zambo too far.

For about a mile they proceeded through a comparatively well-defined
track in a north-western direction, then suddenly turned so as to face
the distant peaks some fifteen miles away. This new path gradually
broadened out into a wide avenue, and at the end of three miles,
buildings, and ruins of walls began to make their appearance in a
scattered fashion. At length, at the conclusion of another mile, they
entered a paved road, adorned on either side by statues of Aztec
deities, similar to those on the platform facing the sea.

"I cannot believe that this city is unknown," said Jack to Philip, as
they marched on abreast behind Pepe and his guards.

"Why not? No one would suspect its existence from the railway
clearing."

"No, that is true! But occasionally there must be some tribes of
Indians about here, and they would be sure to hit upon it. Between the
clearing and the beginning of this broad road it is but four miles, and
the tracks seemed pretty well defined--clear enough at all events, to
guide anyone hither. Once in this avenue, and it is easy to strike the
city--as now."

They had emerged suddenly into a vast space, built over with mansions,
palaces, temples, and mighty walls. A pyramid of earth, surmounted by a
ruined teocalli, was placed in the centre of the city and the wide
streets shot off from this omphalos in a similar way to those of
Totatzine. In fact, on exploring the city thoroughly, Jack came to the
conclusion that those who had built Totatzine had also constructed this
place. The plan was precisely the same, and, judging from the massive
buildings, the carven façades of the walls, the broad terraces, and the
enormous flights of steps, it must have been a populous place of some
importance.

"Judging from what we see, I think it must be a royal city," said
Philip, looking awestruck at these colossal works of the dead. "Here,
perchance, the king had his seat, and the secret way was constructed
from this place to the sacred city of Totatzine, where the god
Huitzilopochtli had his shrine."

"At all events, I have no doubt that this city is well known to the
Indians of the present day," replied Jack, decisively; "though
doubtless the entrance to the cañon road, choked up by rubbish, has
escaped their notice. Did they know of its existence, Ixtlilxochitli
would have closed up the narrow track leading round the precipice into
the interior wall."

It was now between four and five o'clock, so they had not much time to
lose if they desired to find the entrance before sunset. The engine, in
charge of the driver, had been left in the clearing, Jack judging it
would be quite safe there, as no Indians seemed to be in the vicinity.
They had brought provisions with them, and if it was necessary, could
camp out in the clearing till dawn, when they could go back to Cuavaca
to bring the troops.

Pepe marched forward into the central square, and then led them towards
the extreme end of the city. Here a surprise awaited them, for they
found that the town was built against a vast cliff, some eighty or
ninety feet in height. A lengthy temple, reached by a flight of steps,
was cut out of the solid rock, with ranges of pillars massive in the
design and architecture.

"Wonderful!" cried Philip, in amazement, as he surveyed the Cyclopean
ruins; "these temples are like those of Petra. What great men must they
have been who built such shrines! A great civilisation once flourished
here, Jack."

"Without doubt," said Tim, who was much impressed by these grand
remains; "these Toltecs, or whatever you call them, were greater than
the Aztecs. Cortes, to my mind, found a vastly inferior civilisation
than had been when these cities were built."

"Carajo, Señor Correspoñsal!" cried Rafael, overhearing his remarks;
"we have nothing like this in Tlatonac."

"Nor are likely to have," said Peter, dryly; "the Toltecs were greater
builders than the Spaniards."

Guided by Pepe, they entered into this rock-hewn temple, and found
themselves in a vast hall. At the back of the shrine, now unoccupied by
any idol, appeared a ruined archway choked up with rubbish. The
explorers had taken the precaution of bringing torches with them,
knowing there was a tunnel to be gone through. From this entrance, as
Pepe informed them, it was fifteen miles to the hidden city of
Totatzine. Lighting the torches, they climbed over the rubbish and
fallen stones heaped in front of the archway, and began to ascend an
immense staircase. Jack and Philip went first of all, followed by Pepe
and his guards, after whom came the three remaining members of the
party.

Up this staircase they ascended, and, at length emerging into the light
of day, found themselves on a vast plateau, thickly covered with
forests. A well-paved road, still gently ascending, stretched through
these woods into the infinite distance. It was overgrown with brushwood
and giant trees; still they found no difficulty in getting along, owing
to the admirable way in which the stone blocks had been laid. This road
ran for five miles, and then suddenly disappeared down a shallow flight
of steps, under a low archway. Here Pepe stopped, and pointed downward.

"These steps, Señor Americano," he said, addressing Jack, "lead down
for a quarter of a mile, then along a tunnel for three-quarters of a
mile. It brings you out on to the bed of the torrent flowing through
the cañon. The narrow path leads from its mouth for nine miles to the
pierced wall. When there, you are just below the walls of Totatzine."

Jack and his friends held a consultation as to the wisdom of proceeding
further that night. The darkness was coming on, and it would be as well
to get back to the clearing before the night. There they could camp
out, and return to Cuavaca for the troops at dawn.

"For my part," said Philip, quietly, "I do not think we need explore
further on our own account. Pepe has spoken truly up to the present,
and without doubt this tunnel leads to the torrent of the cañon and the
narrow path, as he describes. Let us return to the clearing, go back to
Cuavaca, and bring on the troops. They can camp in the ruined city
to-morrow night, and next morning can march to Totatzine."

The rest of the party agreed to this plan, and, leaving the shallow
tunnel at the foot of the protecting range of the Totatzine mountains,
they returned to the camp. Now that he had shown them the way, Pepe
wanted to be set free; but this the whole party unanimously refused to
do.

"No, no, my friend," said Rafael, making himself the mouthpiece of the
others, "you may warn the Indians we are coming. Till Totatzine be
taken by our troops, you are a prisoner."

Pepe was forced to abide by this decision, and composed himself to
sleep in the clearing, watched vigilantly by his guards, who, knowing
that his escape might bring the savages on them, kept a keen eye on his
slumbers.

"To-morrow," said Jack, as they turned in, "we will return to Cuavaca
for the troops, and before nightfall they shall camp in the ruined
city."




CHAPTER XI.

THE DESTINY OF THE OPAL.

    The spirit of fire,
    The sylph of the air,
    The gnome of the earth,
    The dangerous wave-dwelling fay;
    All madly desire,
    The opal-stone rare,
    Which at its birth,
    They gifted with rainbow hues gay.

    Earth-gnome caressed it,
    Sylph did enfold it,
    Wave-nymph doth chain it,
    In spite of the flame spirit's desire;
    Two have possessed it,
    Now doth one hold it,
    Yet will he gain it,
    The terrible spirit of fire.


There were many Indians in Cuavaca, and had these entertained any
suspicion that there was a second secret way to the sacred city by the
cañon road, they would have at once warned Ixtlilxochitli of the
impending danger to the Chalchuih Tlatonac. As it was, however, they
could not conceive the reason of the troops leaving Cuavaca for the
interior of the country. From their wanderings in that district, they
knew perfectly well that the line stopped suddenly in the midst of a
dense forest, and there appeared to be no reason that soldiers should
be sent thither. The generally received opinion among them was, that as
the Indians of the north had been on the war-trail, these soldiers were
sent up by the Government to punish such rebellion. With this idea, the
peons of Cuavaca took no heed of the expedition, knowing that it would
be impossible for civilised troops to discover their brethren in the
vast forests among the rugged mountains.

Thus, when next day at noon the explorers returned to lead the soldiers
to the buried city, none of the Indians suspected the truth. Indeed,
the troops themselves were in absolute ignorance as to their
destination, as Rafael, thinking the Indians of Cuavaca might learn too
much, ordered the soldiers to blindly obey his orders, and not question
as to where they were going. Thus he hoped to camp a thousand men that
night within the streets of the ruined city, and surprise Totatzine by
dawn, when the priests and the populace would be engaged in worshipping
the opal. The wall towards the cañon would be quite undefended, as
never within the memory of the priests had anyone come into this city
from that direction. Ixtlilxochitli thought that the way was quite
blocked up, and never for a moment deemed that his bitterest foes would
capture the city from the cañon road.

All that day the trains went back and forward between Cuavaca and the
clearing, taking troops into the interior of the country. So soon as
they arrived at the railway terminus, they were marched off through the
woods to the buried city, and there ordered to camp for the night, or
at least till such time as their leaders chose to guide them forward.
By sunset a thousand well-armed, well-disciplined troops were bestowed
in the ruined city of the Toltecs, within fifteen miles of the opal
shrine, and yet not a soul, save the leaders, knew that this was the
case.

The troops having been brought thus far, Rafael, as leader of the
expedition, held a council of war as to the advisability of remaining
there for the night, or pushing on to the narrow path of the cañon so
as to surprise the inhabitants of Totatzine by dawn. Jack and Tim were
strongly in favour of marching at once, and as Philip afterwards came
round to this opinion, Rafael almost made up his mind to move forward
without delay.

"From here to the cañon torrent it is mostly tunnels," urged Jack,
persuasively; "so whether we go by day or night it does not matter, as
we must carry torches. We can easily march along that road on the
plateau between the two tunnels, and when we enter the last one, can
arrive at the bed of the torrent about midnight. Let us camp there with
as many men as possible, and then march along the narrow path at the
first glimpse of daylight. Thus we will be able to assemble on the
platform under the pierced wall while the populace and priests are in
the great square of the teocalli. They will be unprepared, and we can
capture the city without almost a blow."

"But they will be equally unprepared during the day," said Rafael, with
some hesitation, "so why not wait here till dawn?"

"They will not be unprepared during the day," replied Jack, decisively,
"that pierced wall has people on it occasionally. Sometimes they come
out on to the platform overlooking the torrent. If these saw our
soldiers coming two abreast along the narrow path they would give the
alarm, and the defenders of the city could kill our advance guard and
block up the road. Now, if we can get five or six hundred on to the
platform by sunrise, they can keep the populace at bay until the rest
of our men arrive, then the city will be easily taken."

"Only two men can walk abreast on the path?" asked Philip, dubiously.

"As a matter of fact, three can walk abreast, but it is safer with two.
The path is cut out of the side of the cañon, and is very dangerous. It
must be attempted by daylight. Nine miles of narrow path in the dark
would end in our losing our men. Besides, who knows but what that
infernal Ixtlilxochitli, to make things quite safe, may not have
destroyed portions of the path?"

"If he's done that, there won't be much chance of our taking the city,"
said Tim, in disgust.

"True, Señor Correspoñsal," replied Rafael, gravely; "all things
considering, I think it will be best to take Don Juan's advice, and
march two or three hundred men to the torrent camping-ground to-night."

This plan being adopted, the council broke up at once. It was decided
that Jack and Rafael should push on with three hundred men guided by
Pepe. These were to camp at the entrance of the tunnel where it led to
the narrow path by the torrent. At dawn the remaining seven hundred
men, under the leadership of Philip, Tim, and Captain Martez, should
follow, and by the time they arrived at the torrent camping-ground, the
advance troop would have reached the platform under the pierced wall,
which they could hold till the reinforcements arrived. As a matter of
fact, Jack and Rafael hoped to have the full strength of their men on
the platform and in the city before the inhabitants took the alarm;
but, in any event, three hundred could hold the narrow path entrance to
the platform while the rear came up steadily. Having settled these
important details, they all made a hearty meal, and, after bidding
their friends an affectionate farewell, Jack and Rafael, with their
little band, pushed forward.

The men now knew that their destination was Totatzine, and so many
rumours were current in Cholacaca over the amount of treasure concealed
in this sacred city that they were madly desirous of getting to the
town. Without hesitation they followed Don Rafael and the Englishman up
the grand staircase, from the entrance whence all rubbish had been
cleared away. On arriving at the top, they saw the broad paved road
stretching straight before them in the semi-darkness, and still keeping
their torches lighted to guide them on their way, marched steadily
along the five miles until they arrived at the foot of the great peaks.
Here was the shallow tunnel, also choked up by rubbish. This was
speedily cleared away by a hundred willing hands, and then the leaders
making Pepe go down into the darkness between his guards, followed with
their men. The zambo made no attempt to escape, as now seeing the power
of the Junta, and knowing that his life was safe, he had quite gone
over to the side of Don Hypolito's enemies.

The staircase led downward into the bowels of the earth for over a
quarter of a mile, then suddenly admitted them into a vast gallery
through which the air blew keenly. Jack was unable to restrain his
admiration at the mechanical skill which the Toltecs--if they had been
the engineers--displayed in thus piercing these vast tunnels through
the solid rock. The red glare of the torches showed them that the sides
were cased in brick painted with images of the gods, and the path under
their feet was smoothly paved with stonework, worn by the feet of
countless generations. To accomplish such marvels, these long-dead
nations must have possessed wonderful engineering capabilities, and
employed thousands and thousands of slaves. The latter might have been
taken in war, and forced to labour at these colossal works, but where
the Toltecs learned engineering was more than Jack could discover.

The tunnel was only a mile long, and in a short space of time they
emerged on to a vast natural platform at the very bottom of the cañon.
To the left, looking from the tunnel, the great gap ended at the
distance of a quarter of a mile, and through the opening they could see
the flat extent of plains, and the distant pinnacles of mountains. On
the right the cañon turned suddenly to one side, and they saw
themselves shut in, so to speak, by vast rocky walls towering up to the
height of some thousands of feet. The torrent gushed and raged a little
distance below the natural terrace, and on one side of it arose a
narrow flight of steps leading to the path which ended at the sacred
city itself.

So difficult had been the way that it was now nearly midnight, so the
wearied troops camped on the terrace, and made a meal as best they
could. There was but little chance of their presence being discovered
by any human being in that desolate cañon, but Rafael, judging it best
to be on the safe side, forbade them to light fires. Fortunately the
night was warm, every man possessed a zarape, and they slept in
comparative comfort.

It was a critical period, as discovery by any wandering Indian meant
death to the whole band in that narrow gulch; but, to Rafael's relief,
the dawn broke showing not a human being to be in sight. They saw the
narrow path winding like a thread along the rocks in the distance, and
it looked a dangerous way to go. It was, however, the only way to the
city, and once they arrived under the pierced wall, they could keep the
path open for their reinforcements to follow.

Jack made the men eat a hearty meal before starting, and would liked to
have made them drink hot coffee, but that there was a risk in lighting
fires. At the first faint light of morning, which was about six
o'clock, the men having finished their meal, looked to their rifles and
ammunition, flung their zarapes round their shoulders, and prepared to
ascend the narrow staircase.

Still keeping Pepe before all as guide, lest he should send them
forward into some unknown danger, the two young men mounted to the
path, and in the space of an hour the whole company were winding along
two abreast. Below they looked down thousands of feet, above the cliffs
arose stern and precipitous, but the path, though narrow, was well-made
and safe, so, two by two, they marched forward in silence.

"In a couple of hours the rest of the troops will reach the torrent,"
said Jack to Rafael, as they walked along; "and by the time we gain the
pierced wall, they will not be far behind."

"Once we are on the platform you speak of, I do not care, Juan,"
replied Rafael, grimly; "but I hope by all the saints the Indians will
not see us before we can get off this path. They could cut us off with
the greatest of ease."

"Never fear," said Duval, casting an anxious look at the sky, still
cold and grey; "at sunrise they will all be in the great square
worshipping the opal. Totatzine, you know, Rafael, is a sacred city,
and it is death for any inhabitant to remain away from the morning
sacrifice. That is how the priests keep their hold on the people."

"But the women?"

"They will be present also."

"It must be a large plaza," said Rafael, disbelievingly.

"Very large. Much larger than the Plaza de los Hombres Ilustres at
Tlatonac."

"Dios! What clever people those Toltecs must have been."

As they proceeded, the cañon wound to right and left, shutting itself
in at every curve with its own walls, so that they never saw more than
a short distance before them. Jack feared lest the path should suddenly
come to an end behind one of the curves; but as Pepe, who knew the way,
marched boldly on, this did not seem possible. The grey sky began to
flash crimson, and the stars to the eastward died out in the rosy hues
of dawn. They could see the torrent far below like a white thread, and
hear its voice, hoarse and incessant, rising upward. The serrated
summits of the cañon rocks loomed black against the changing sky.

On, on, and on. The road never seemed to come to an end, but stretched
ever before them narrow and perilous-looking, a hanging-way between
heaven and earth.

"I hope to the Lord none of the men will grow dizzy, and fall over,"
said Jack, anxiously; "the path is so narrow, the depth so terrible."

"No fear of that, mi amigo," replied Rafael, cheerfully; "they are all
too determined to get gold and silver in Totatzine to lose the chance
of not arriving there. Believe me, Juan, they are as anxious as we are
to get to the end of this infernal path. By the way, Martez and Señor
Felipe must be on it by now, with their men."

Jack glanced at his watch.

"Yes; we have been over two hours now, marching. I expect Martez will
press onward as quickly as possible, so as to join us without delay.
Hullo!"

"What is the matter?"

"I saw a glimpse of green just now. We are nearly at the end of the
journey."

The word passed along the narrow line of men, and they grasped their
rifles tighter, with fierce joy at the thought that they would soon be
in the heart of the golden city, so famous throughout Cholacaca. The
path began to slope downward gently. It turned round a corner sharply,
and lo! before them, Jack and his friend saw the sacred town, sparkling
like a jewel, in the hollow of the green valley. A wall, glistening
like silver, stretched along the whole front of the cañon, and before
this was a broad stone platform, on which a thousand men could assemble
with ease. Below was the torrent, and on this side of the rocks was a
narrow path, ending abruptly in a precipice. Jack pointed out this
latter to Rafael.

"Do you see that, my friend?" he said, slowly; "it leads from the
secret entrance to the other path below the bridge, in the centre of
the town. If you took that way, you would fall into the torrent, and be
lost for ever."

"Dios!" said Rafael, awestruck, "what devils are these priests."

The platform and wall were absolutely deserted. The gates were wide
open, and through the vast arch-way they could see into the streets of
the town. A rosy flame, with yellow shafts, appeared behind the arid
peaks of the east, and loud and shrill the invaders heard the sacred
hymn, saluting the rising luminary. For centuries that song had not
been heard by the white man--not since Montezuma's altars had ceased to
smoke had civilised beings seen what they now saw. A vast pyramid in
the centre of the city, crowned with a silver temple, and dotted at the
summit with tiny figures invoking the gods. It was the last time that
song would ever rise; the last time the sun would be saluted with
bleeding victims and rolling incense; for the last stronghold of the
Aztec deities was discovered. The waves of advancing civilisation were
about to roll over this primeval city, and blot it and its fierce
deities out for ever.

Silently, with anxious hearts, the little band turning the last corner
of the path, stepped downward on to the platform. When Jack found
himself there, he breathed a sigh of relief. Even though the Indians
found them now, they could not stop them in their onward course. His
men poured on to the platform, fell into line silently, and thus
established a defence at the mouth of the narrow path, while their
comrades rapidly came onward to their assistance. The city was as good
as won. But Xuarez----

"We must take care that Don Hypolito does not escape, Señor," said
Rafael, anxiously, as the troops massed themselves under the pierced
wall.

"Leave that to me, Rafael. I have an account to settle with Xuarez. He
shall not escape me."

"Shall we attack the city at once?"

"I think so. It will be as well to get inside the walls, lest we should
be discovered and the gates closed. Leave fifty men on the platform, mi
amigo, so as to hold it open for the reinforcements, then we can
penetrate into the town."

"Making for what point?"

"The great square. We must capture the bridges, and so hold the people
who are now worshipping on one side of the city. They shall thus not be
able to get their weapons."

"The reinforcements will arrive shortly."

"In about an hour, I fancy. I told Martez to march as rapidly as
possible, and I have no doubt he is pushing on with all speed. Come,
then, Rafael! Let us march into the city, and don't forget to seize
Xuarez and the opal! Also we must rescue Cocom."

"What about Ixtlilxochitli?"

"Oh, throw him into the torrent," said Jack, savagely; "he was going to
offer me up to that infernal deity of his. I believe he is making a
sacrifice now."

"Perhaps it's Xuarez."

"I hope so! We will be spared the trouble of shooting him."

By this time the full number of men had arrived on the terrace, and
leaving fifty men to guard the path, Jack, in company with Rafael,
pushed forward through the gate into the city. No sooner had they got
inside, and were marching down the street leading to the principal
bridge, than some women saw them. Thunderstruck at their appearance,
these paused, and then began to yell loudly. Rafael sent forward some
soldiers to seize them, but they disappeared, running in the direction
of the great square.

"Carajo!" muttered Maraquando, savagely; "they will alarm the town.
Forward, men! Keep close together. Señor Duval, take fifty men, and
hold the lower bridge. I, with one hundred, will keep the middle one,
and you, Señor Riconada, can hold the bridge near the wall with the
rest of our forces. Thus we will be able to keep all the Indians in the
square till the arrival of our friends."

Jack and Riconada hastened to obey these orders and blockaded the three
bridges. Scarcely had they established themselves when the serpent-skin
drums on the summit of the teocalli began to roll out the alarm.
Frantic with rage and astonishment, the worshippers streamed towards
the three bridges so as to repel the daring foes. No one could
understand how these invaders had entered the city, and Ixtlilxochitli
smitten with fear, called on the children of Huitzilopochtli to defend
their god. The crowd pouring towards the bridges were driven back by
the soldiers, and as they were without weapons, owing to having gone to
the square for sacrifical purposes, they could do nothing.
Ixtlilxochitli was equal to the occasion, and from some secret store
produced shields and spears, bows and arrows, and swords of obsidian.
The drums rolled, the trumpets shrilled, and the priests on the
platform of the teocalli frantically invoked the god, while those whom
they had aroused desperately attempted to force the bridges.

A feeling of superstitious terror was in the breasts of the Indians.
These terrible white men, whom no obstacle seemed to hinder, had
entered Totatzine as though by magic. How they had evaded the spies and
overcome the difficulties of the secret way none knew, much less how
they had discovered the passage. No one thought of the cañon road, not
even Ixtlilxochitli, who never dreamed of danger from that quarter. All
the inhabitants of Totatzine knew was that their worst foes were in the
heart of their sacred city, and that, unless they drove them forth at
once, the Shrine of the Opal would be lost for ever.

Flights of arrows fell round the soldiers holding the three bridges,
and many were killed, as they had no shields with which to protect
themselves. On the other hand, the round bucklers held up by the
savages were no hindrance to the bullets of the invaders, and as the
soldiers kept up a steady fire into the dense mass of worshippers, the
ground was soon cumbered with the dead and dying.

Jack in vain looked for Xuarez, but could see no sign of him. On the
summit of the teocalli he saw a vast crowd of priests crying on the
war-god to defend his shrine, and thought for a moment, as the black
mass parted, that a man was lying on the stone of sacrifice. But the
next instant the throng closed together again, and he was forced to
give his attention to the task of defending the causeway. His soul
revolted against this butchery, and he ordered his soldiers to deal as
gently as possible with the comparatively defenceless enemy.
Nevertheless, he knew that the safety of himself and his friends
depended on keeping the Indians blockaded until the reinforcements
arrived, and was forced to massacre the crowds which hurled themselves
with fanatical devotion against his men.

Owing to the depth of the torrent, there was no way of crossing it save
by the bridges, and these being held by the invaders, it was impossible
for the Indians to fight to any advantage. Wave after wave rolled
across the narrow bridges, and midway were repelled by the incessant
fire of the Tlatonacians. The spears and arrows of the Indians did
deadly work, and the centre of the causeways were soon filled with
corpses, white men and red men mingled promiscuously together. Jack saw
plainly that the three bridges could be held by them for hours, yet
wished from his soul that Martez and Philip would come up with the
reinforcements, if only to put a stop to this wholesale massacre.

Thousands of Indians were pent up in the square of the sacrifice, all
arrayed in festal robes of white with chaplets of flowers. These latter
were now torn off and cast underfoot, the white garments were spotted
with blood--the blood of their friends--and, frantic with rage, the
multitude did all that valour could do to break through the handful of
men holding the bridges. The drums were rolling their thunder
incessantly, the trumpets shrieked like human beings, priests bellowed,
the worshippers yelled, and constantly could be heard the ominous
cracking of the rifles, as every shot carried death into the white mass
heaving tumultuously in the square.

All at once a trumpet beyond the walls rang out clear and thin.

"Hurrah!" cried Jack, waving his sword, "the reinforcements at last."

It was indeed the seven hundred men, who had arrived sooner than was
expected. Martez, anxious to aid his leader as speedily as possible,
had marched his men rapidly along the narrow path, and now they were
steadily streaming through the gate, making for the several bridges
where the fight seemed hottest. As the priests were shouting down
encouragements to the people below, Rafael decided to attack the
teocalli, and stop this work. Once the shrine was taken, and it was
possible the Indians might yield without further trouble, a thing he
heartily desired, as, like Jack, he was weary of this massacre.

Tim and Martez stayed with Don Rafael, while Philip joined Jack, and
Peter, who was quite war-like in appearance, went to the town bridge,
where Riconada was fighting. At a given signal, all three bodies of
soldiers commenced to converge towards a single point, that being the
teocalli. The priests saw this manoeuvre, and bellowed with fear.
Many threw themselves down the steep sides of the pyramid, in vain
offering themselves to the war-god in the hope that he would decree
victory to their fellow-countrymen. The women in the square were
shrieking wildly, and hurling stones, wrenched from the houses, at the
soldiers as they pushed the mass of men steadily before them. From the
summit of the pyramid a cloud of incense rolled heavenward, and
Ixtlilxochitli, in the red robe of sacrifice, stepped forward to the
verge of the steps, holding up the opal in order to encourage his
people.

A yell arose from friend and foe alike as they saw the glint of the
stone, and the Indians closed resolutely round the base of the teocalli
in a vain attempt to prevent the enemy from taking it by storm. All
their valour and self-sacrifice was in vain. The three compact bodies
of men pushed forward, shoulder to shoulder, through the white mass,
leaving behind three several streaks of red and yellow, the uniformed
bodies of their fellow-countrymen. Ixtlilxochitli saw these rivers of
fierce soldiery converge towards the staircase of the teocalli, and
yelling aloud to Huitzilopochtli, flashed the opal incessantly in the
sun.

"There is Xuarez!" panted Philip, in the ear of Jack, as they cut their
way onward.

"Where?"

"By Ixtlilxochitli. That chap in red. He is bound. By Jove, Jack, I
believe the old fiend meant to sacrifice him."

"Pity he didn't," retorted Jack, grimly; "look out Philip. Ah, there is
Tim. Hurrah, Tim! See which of us will reach the staircase first."

Even in the midst of danger, Jack could not help joking, and Tim burst
out laughing as he hurled his huge form by Rafael through the crowd.

All at once their mirth ended. At the foot of the teocalli they
stumbled over a nude corpse with a ragged wound in the breast. It was
the body of Cocom.

"He has been sacrificed," cried Jack, fiercely. "Forward men! Avenge
his death."

The advancing troops cheered loudly, and pressed steadily on towards
the great pyramid.

The soldiers in the other part of the city had set fire to the
dwellings, and already the flames were rising heavenward. Mad with
rage, the Indians fought on doggedly, but could do nothing against the
discipline of regular troops; inch by inch they gave way before the
line of steel pressed against their breasts. The invaders stepped over
corpses on their way to the teocalli, and those lying on the ground not
yet dead, twining their arms round the legs of their foes, strove to
throw them. The noise was something deafening, and the whole square was
one vast field of carnage.

Jack and Rafael, with their respective troops, reached the foot of the
staircase at the same time, and began to climb up. The priests, frantic
with terror, threw down huge stones, tore the tiles off the shrine, and
hurled them viciously at their foes. The drum was still beating, the
incense rolling, and high above the din could be heard the strident
voice of the old high-priest calling on his gods.

"Jack! Rafael! keep your eye on Xuarez; he is free," replied Philip, as
they fought their way upward.

Such, indeed, was the case. Don Hypolito had managed to get his hands
free, and was now struggling with Ixtlilxochitli. Why he did so, none
of the Englishmen could make out, unless it was to kill the old man for
trying to sacrifice him to Huitzilopochtli. The attendant priests
closed round the struggling figures to help their head, and thus
omitting to defend the teocalli, in a few moments the assailants were
on the top.

Jack sprang up first on to the platform, closely followed by Tim. The
crowd of priests rolled on either side, rolled over the sides of the
pyramid, falling into the frantic mass below. Then they saw the design
of Xuarez.

"Catch him Tim; he has the opal!"

Xuarez, with torn clothing and pale, blood-stained face, stood against
the shrine with the opal flashing in one hand and a spear in the other.
Jack dashed forward to seize him, and Xuarez, with a yell of rage,
hurled the spear. In a second Tim had thrown himself between the weapon
and Jack, receiving it full in his breast. He fell back with a cry into
Philip's arms, and Jack, mad with anger at his friend's disaster, flung
himself forward on Xuarez. The rebel leader dashed to one side, and
threw himself over the smooth side of the pyramid, sliding downward on
his back. Jack, with his revolver firmly grasped in his right hand,
followed in the same way; but before he reached the ground a red mass
shot rapidly past him.

"Ixtlilxochitli."

The rebel leader, holding the opal on high, dashed through the crowd of
Indians, who opened a path before the sacred gem, followed closely by
the red figure of the high priest. Jack saw the idea Xuarez had in his
head. He was making for the secret way under the bridge, hoping to
escape to the mountains with his booty. At once he followed the flying
figures, but the crowd closed around him, and he had much to do to
protect himself. Martez saw his danger and sent a body of soldiers to
his assistance. In a few minutes, he was safe on the bridge surrounded
by his friends. Xuarez and Ixtlilxochitli had disappeared through the
secret entrance.

Determined to revenge the wound of Tim and secure the opal, Jack would
have followed, when he heard a hundred voices on the platform beyond
the pierced wall shout out the name of Xuarez. Wondering the reason of
this, he darted up the street, followed by a few troops, and on gaining
the platform, looked over to where the soldiers were pointing.

On the rocky ledge below, he saw two men struggling for the possession
of the opal. Xuarez, hotly pursued by the old priest, had taken the
wrong turning below the bridge, and they were now reeling on the verge
of destruction. Nearer and nearer they came to the brink, then Xuarez,
evidently seeing he was lost, threw the harlequin opal into the
torrent. The great gem described a curve in the air, flashed rainbow
hues in the sunlight, then dropped sheer into the boiling torrent
below--lost for ever to the world. In another second, Ixtlilxochitli
had forced Xuarez over the ledge, and the two men, locked in one
another's arms, shared the fate of the gem.

Jack stood on the edge of the platform, looking in silent horror at the
fate of the rebel leader, when he heard his name cried out loudly, and
turned to see Peter hurrying towards him with a face of horror.

"Jack! Jack! Tim!"

"Tim!" echoed Jack, with a pang of fear, "is he wounded?"

"He is dead."

Jack waited to hear no more, but, followed by Peter, raced back to the
teocalli. With the fall of the shrine had fallen the city, and Jack,
crossing the square untouched, ran up the staircase rapidly. There, on
the summit, supported in Philip's arms, with Philip's tears dropping on
his dead face, lay Tim, merry-hearted Tim, whom they all loved so
truly.

"Oh, Tim!" cried Jack, with a burst of anguish, and fell on his knees
beside the dead body.

Below the tumult continued, the incense still rolled upward; but the
last sacrifice had taken place in the teocalli of Totatzine, and Tim
was the victim.




CHAPTER XII.

FAREWELL, TLATONAC.

    Let us sail eastward, where the sun
      Slow rises o'er the crimson wave,
    Our western toils at last are done,
      And rest, for ever, rest we crave.

    Oh, see the shore fades far away,
      A dim spot in the distant blue,
    And eastward breaks the coming day
      Which bids our life-day dawn anew.

    Old times are at an end,--our lives
      Have had their share of sighs and tears;
    Now, loyal friends, with loving wives,
      We hopeful look to coming years.


A cheer arose from the crowd at the sea-gate, the warships dipped their
flags in salutation, the guns thundered from the forts, and _The
Bohemian_ steamed slowly out of Tlatonac Harbour. At her mainmast
fluttered the Union Jack, over her stern drooped the Opal flag, for the
daughter and niece of His Excellency Don Miguel Maraquando were on
board, on their way to England, with their husbands, Sir Philip Cassim
and Jack Duval. That same day had they been married by Padre Ignatius,
and were now departing for the honeymoon, therefore did the guns
thunder, the people cheer, the flags dip.

Six weeks had elapsed since the fall of Totatzine, since the death of
poor Tim, and many events had taken place during that interval. When
the teocalli was captured and the priests slain, the Indians, deprived
at one blow of gods and leaders, yielded in despair to their
conquerors. Don Hypolito dead, Cocom sacrificed, the opal lost, nothing
more could be obtained from the town, so Rafael withdrew his troops by
the cañon road, and returned to announce to the Junta that they need no
more fear the restless ambition of Xuarez.

Poor Tim's body was taken back to Tlatonac by his sorrowing friends.
For a long time they could scarcely believe that he was dead. Tim, who
was so light-hearted and full of spirits; but alas! there was no doubt
that he had died almost instantaneously on the platform of the
teocalli. The spear, thrown with vigorous hate by Xuarez, and intended
for the breast of Jack, had dealt a fatal wound, and Tim had but time
to grasp Philip's hand in faint farewell before he passed away. The
three survivors were wild with grief at this loss, so cruel, so
unexpected, and reverentially carried the body of their old
schoolfellow to the capital for burial. In view of Tim's services
during the war, and the regard entertained for him by the Cholacacans
one and all, the Junta decreed a public funeral to the remains; so
Tim's body, with much pomp, was consigned to the vaults of the
cathedral, amid the firing of cannon, the knolling of bells.

It was some weeks before the three Englishmen could recover
sufficiently from this cruel blow to attend to necessary matters. Now
that the country was at peace, and Don Hypolito slain, the President
gave his hearty consent to the marriages of Dolores, Eulalia, and
Carmencita. The weddings were very quietly celebrated, as neither Jack
nor Philip felt inclined for revelry now that Tim was dead; and,
indeed, so many of the Tlatonacians had lost relatives in the late
war, that public festivities would have been out of place. Therefore
the weddings were celebrated by Padre Ignatius in a very quiet
fashion, and afterwards Jack and Philip, with their respective brides,
departed for England in _The Bohemian_, while Don Rafael and
Carmencita went north to Acauhtzin in a warship.

It was Philip's intention to establish himself and Eulalia in his
ancestral home in Kent, and live the useful life of a country
gentleman, varied by occasional voyages in _The Bohemian_. He could
not make up his mind to part with the yacht, nor did Eulalia wish him
to do so, and having proved herself to be a capital sailor, she took
as much interest in the boat as did Sir Philip himself. Eulalia,
having been shut up all her life in Tlatonac, now showed a decided
desire for rambling, so it seemed as though even marriage would not
cure Philip of his gipsy proclivities. Still before such matters were
decided upon, the baronet deemed it advisable to instal his Spanish
wife in the family mansion, and introduce Lady Cassim to the country
people.

As to Jack and Dolores, they were only paying a flying visit to the old
country for a few weeks, as Duval had finally made up his mind to
settle in Tlatonac, and become a naturalized citizen of that city. The
life suited him; he was married to a native lady of the place, and,
moreover, the Junta had given him full control of all engineering works
connected with the country; so Jack, with the full approval of Peter
and Philip, thought he could not do better than establish himself in
this new land. The country was rich in natural productions, in timber,
ores, and precious stones, so when Jack's railways opened it up
throughout the whole length, there was no doubt but that Cholacaca
would become one of the most flourishing Republics of the Americas.

Owing to the severe lesson at Totatzine, it was anticipated that the
Indians would be too cowed to give the Government further trouble, and
this proved to be the case. The last stronghold of the old gods had
fallen, and the sacred city, which had been the centre of incessant
conspiracy against the Republic was quite broken up. With the vanishing
of the opal, it lost its character of a sacred town, and now being
thrown open to the world by the discovery of the secret paths, no
longer possessed any mysterious charm for the Indians. With no centre,
with no crafty priesthood, the power of the tribes, instead of being
concentrated, became scattered, and there is no doubt that in the near
future, when the country is a network of railways, that the savage
tribes will vanish before the advancing flood of civilisation.

Peter did not come in _The Bohemian_, as he had accepted the
invitation of a celebrated naturalist to visit him up Mexico way, and
hunt beetles and butterflies in company. Faithless Peter, he refused
to marry Doña Serafina, and fled the smiles of his elderly charmer,
for they, to him, dearer delights of entomology. Baffled in one
quarter, Doña Serafina was successful in another, for she turned her
attention to Don Alfonso Cebrian, and succeeded, after some
difficulty, in marrying the Intendante of Xicotencatl, who had for
some years been a widower. Serafina found on marriage that she
possessed a step-daughter, with whom she could not agree, but speedily
settled her future by marrying her off to Captain Velez, who thus
became the Intendante's son-in-law after all.

After leaving Tlatonac, the four people on board _The Bohemian_ were
talking of these things on deck, in the warm sunshine. It was the
afternoon of a perfect day, and the yacht steamed merrily along
towards the distant ocean. To the surprise of Philip and Jack, the
ladies proved to be excellent sailors, and were quite fascinated with
the yacht, much to the gratification of old Benker, who, for the first
time in his crusty old life, approved of the existence of the female
sex.

When they were tired roaming about and making inquiries about this,
that, and the other thing, they settled down in comfortable deck-chairs
to talk about the future with their respective husbands. Dolores and
Jack were returning to Tlatonac shortly, so had but the same life to
look forward to; but Eulalia was secretly dismayed at the prospect of
being an English lady.

"Querido!" she said to Philip, looking at him over the top of her big
black fan, "I cannot talk your tongue. And your English ladies! I hear
they are so cold. And your climate. Oh, Felipe, I fear your climate."

"Who told you all these nice things, Eulalia?" asked Philip, smiling.

"Don Pedro."

"My dear girl, you must not believe what Peter says. He doesn't know a
thing, except what relates to beetles. You are learning to talk English
very quickly, and as to the English ladies--they will all fall in love
with you."

"And the climate of England," added Jack, wickedly, "is the best in the
world."

"No!" replied Philip, laughing, "I cannot conscientiously say that. But
neither Eulalia nor myself will stay much in England. We shall travel."

Eulalia clapped her hands with glee on hearing this delightful
proposal, and Dolores settled the future course of such travelling.

"Wherever you may go, Señor Felipe," she said smiling, "forget not that
Juan and myself dwell in Tlatonac, and shall expect you both once a
year."

"More or less!" cried Jack, lazily. "Come in a year, Philip, and you
will see how Cholacaca is going ahead. I will have that railway to
Acauhtzin ready before you know where you are. All those little forest
towns will soon be in communication with the outside world----"

"And Totatzine?"

"Ah, Totatzine has lost its mysterious charm of the unknown. I'll turn
it into a resort for invalids, or a Central American Monte Carlo. Where
Huitzilopochtli was worshipped, future generations will adore the
goddess of play."

"At that rate, you will still have victims offered at the shrine," said
Philip, grimly; "but, after all, Jack, it was a pity we lost the opal."

"Can it not be found again?" asked Dolores, who deeply regretted the
vanished jewel.

Jack shook his head.

"I am afraid not. Xuarez threw it into the torrent. Heaven only knows
in what profound depths it now lies. Perhaps it is best so. While it
was on earth, it caused nothing but trouble, from the time it was in
the possession of Montezuma, to the death of Xuarez."

"Now it is lost, I suppose the superstition will die out!"

"Superstition dies hard. All kinds of legends will grow up about that
famous gem. It will still be remembered for many years, the more
especially as Tlatonac is still, and ever shall be, the City of the
Opal."

"And Dolores is still the guardian of the opal," said Eulalia,
pensively.

"A guardian of a stone that has now no existence," replied Dolores,
laughing; "but, after all, I had rather the jewel was lost than my
Juan."

"Ah, Dolores!" said Jack, with a sad smile, "had it not been for the
Señor Correspoñsal, your Juan would have been lost."

"Poor Tim," muttered Philip, softly, turning away to conceal his
emotion.

The tears sprang to Dolores' eyes, and Eulalia was scarcely less
affected. It seemed too terrible that they should all be so happy, when
poor Tim, whom they loved so much, should be lying in the grave. The
bitterest part of it was that the death had taken place just when the
war was over. Tim had escaped the siege of Janjalla, the battle of
Centeotl, only to fall in a skirmish at the obscure town of Totatzine.
It was fate!

They remained silent for a few minutes, thinking of the dead man, and
then Philip aroused himself with an effort.

"Come!" he said, with a smile. "We must not be melancholy on our
wedding-day. Poor Tim himself would have been the last to countenance
such folly. We can talk of other things. Of Rafael, for instance."

"There is not much to talk about Rafael," said his sister, lightly; "he
is married to Doña Carmencita. He is now Governor of Acauhtzin, and
when Cholacaca has a fleet, he shall be its almirante. I think Rafael
is very fortunate, Felipe."

"Not so fortunate as I am," replied the baronet looking at her fondly.

"Nor as I!" cried Jack, slipping his arm round Dolores' waist. "Ah,
Philip, how many things have taken place since we sailed over these
waters! Did I not tell you you would bring home a bride?"

"You did, and I half believed you. For once, you have prophesied
correctly. I am grateful to you, Jack, for having led me to secure this
prize. When you came back to England, I was settling down into a crusty
old bachelor; but now you will find me a devoted husband--all through
your coming to England."

"Say, rather, all through the agreement we made at Bedford School, so
many years ago. That boyish freak has brought us good fortune and
charming wives."

"Yet Peter is still a bachelor."

"Oh, Peter will marry a beetle! I expect we shall see him in England
shortly. For myself, I do not complain of Fate; nor does Dolores."

Jack bent down tenderly, and kissed Dolores, which example seemed so
good to Philip that he at once followed suit.

The sun was setting in the west, and the sky was one blaze of colours.
Pale rose, tawny-yellow, and high above, the delicate blue of the
departing day. The sky, the sea were all glittering with rainbow hues
of unexampled brilliancy. The yacht, leaving all this splendour behind,
steamed steadily onward towards the coming night.

"It is like the Chalchuih Tlatonac," said Dolores, pointing to the
sunset.

"And we are leaving it behind," replied Jack, taking her hand; "but I
do not regret it, querida. If Fate has denied me the harlequin opal,
she has given me a dearer and more precious gift--yourself."


THE END.






End of Project Gutenberg's The Harlequin Opal, Vol. 3 (of 3), by Fergus Hume