smiled scornfully.
"What can the Junta do against that face?" he said, contemptuously. "There stands the greatest man in Cholacaca."
"D – n him," muttered the engineer, fiercely, "he has carried off Dolores."
"Silence, boys," growled Tim, in a voice of subdued thunder, "the Don's speaking."
The Intendante was not a particularly brave man, and hardly liked the position in which he now found himself. His mission had appeared to be great and grand and glorious at Tlatonac! but now it assumed quite a different complexion. To utter threats against the rebel Xuarez, when in the society of friends, was one thing; to order the followers of the revolutionary President to give him up to punishment, in the middle of his army, was another. Don Alonzo Cebrian hummed and hawed, and cleared his throat, to get down a nasty lump which impeded his speech. Don Hypolito saw his confusion, but said nothing, he did not even smile, but sat serenely in his chair, impenetrable as the Sphinx. At last the Intendante screwed up his courage and delivered the decree of the Junta – sufficiently badly, it is true – still, he delivered it.
"As the legally qualified representative of the Junta of Cholacaca, in congress assembled, I hereby order those in arms against the Republic to surrender to the Government, and to deliver up for punishment the body of the rebel, Hypolito Xuarez, for – "
He did not finish his sentence. A low murmur of rage arose from the supporters of the rebel leader, and, half-drawing their swords, they looked towards Xuarez for authority to cut down the daring man who had thus insulted him in the midst of his army. Don Alonzo turned pale at the sight of the half-bared weapons, and shrank back among his friends; but Xuarez, leaning his chin on his hand, stared steadily before him and waited. Seeing this impassive demeanour, which he was not clever enough to know was more dangerous than an outburst of rage, Don Alonzo regained his spirits. A more unfitted diplomatist than Cebrian could scarcely have been chosen.
"I need not speak at any great length," he said, rapidly. "The orders of his Excellency Francisco Gomez are that the town of Acauhtzin surrender to the Government, deliver up the rebel Xuarez for punishment, and submit to the clemency of the Junta. If this is done at once, the Junta will be lenient; if not, the opal standard will be unfurled, and all the inhabitants of Acauhtzin will be treated as rebels. This is the decree of Don Francisco Gomez on the part of the Junta of Cholacaca, delivered by myself the Intendante of Xicotencatl."
Then, Cebrian, having delivered his message sufficiently badly, rolled up his papers with the air of a man who has done his duty, and waited the reply of the rebel leader. All those on the side of Xuarez frowned heavily, but made no demonstration of wrath at the insolence of the message. They waited to hear Don Hypolito speak. The Mestizo arose to his feet, and addressed himself, not to the emissaries of the Republic, but to his own supporters.
"Señores," he said, in a singularly mellow and powerful voice, "you hear the decree of the so-called Junta of Cholacaca. Lest you should mistake the purport of the message delivered by Don Alonzo Cebrian, I will repeat it shortly. You are to lay down your arms, surrender my body to the Junta, and trust to the tender mercies of your rivals of Tlatonac for judgment. These are the conditions, which, if not accepted, will bring on us the thunderbolts of war from a Government who have not a navy, and scarce an army. Your answer?"
Hitherto he had spoken in a low tone, clear and distinct, but distinguished by no oratorical fire. At the last words, however, his voice rang through the hall like thunder, and he repeated them with emphasis.
"Your answer, Señores?"
"No! no! no! Viva Xuarez! Viva el gefe! Abaja, Gomez!"
Don Hypolito listened to those fierce responses with a smile of pleasure on his usually immobile face, and when the clamour died away, arose slowly to his feet. Facing the messengers of the Republic, he addressed them sharply, laconically.
"You hear, Señores. Go!"
"You refuse!" said Don Alonzo, scarcely able to believe his ears.
"I refuse to surrender myself to your tyrants. The people of Acauhtzin refuse to lay down their arms. Between myself and the illegal Junta now sitting at Tlatonac, there is no friendship, no trust, no faith. They proclaim me a rebel! I, Hypolito Xuarez, proclaim war!"
He flung up his hand with a fiery gesture, and as he did so a hundred swords flashed from their scabbards.
"War!" cried those in the hall. "War! Viva Xuarez!"
Don Alonzo tore the message of the Republic in twain, and cast the pieces at the foot of the dais whereon Xuarez was seated.
"So be it!" he cried, turning his back, "War!"
"Hold!" said Xuarez, in a voice of thunder. "You came, Señores, under the protection of the English flag. You go with the opal banner flying at your masthead. Such a precaution was useless. I am not a barbarian to fire on a flag of truce; but you – you, Señores, are cowards to thus distrust an honourable foe."
Before the Intendante could speak, Philip sprang forward, and faced the speaker.
"The fault, Señor, if fault it be, is mine. The vessel in which we came is English, and, therefore, flies the English flag. In the port, I hoisted the opal banner, to show that these gentlemen were on board, and had come on a mission from the Junta."
"An excellent explanation!" sneered Hypolito, frowning; "but untrue!"
"Señor!"
"Untrue, I say! You thought I would fire on your ship! You looked on me as a barbaric foe! You mistrusted me!"
"And who would not?" said Jack's deep voice savagely, "who would not mistrust one who makes war on women?"
"Be quiet, Jack."
"I do not understand you, Señor Duval," said Xuarez, who knew the young engineer quite well. "Explain!"
"Doña Dolores, the niece of Don Miguel Maraquando, has been kidnapped from Tlatonac! I accuse you of carrying her off."
"I deny it, Señor! It is false," cried the rebel leader, a flush reddening the marble whiteness of his face. "Doña Dolores is not in Acauhtzin."
"She may not be here, Señor, but you know where she is!"
"I do not, Señor! You have no proof of what you say."
"Pepe, the zambo, a spy in your pay, carried off a woman from Tlatonac," cried Rafael, stepping forward. "That woman was my cousin, Dolores."
Xuarez started, and spoke rapidly to one of his officers, who thereupon left the room.
"Ah! you know much, Señor," he resumed, scornfully; "but you are wrong; the zambo was my spy – "
"Carambo!"
"I repeat he was my spy in Tlatonac," said Xuarez, coolly; "and he left the city with a plan of your fortifications."
"Por todos Santos," roared Garibay, fiercely, clapping his hand on his sword.
"Call on whom you like, Señor Commandante! I have no reason to hide this from you or from the Junta, else would I have kept silent. I know when to hold my tongue, Señores; I know when to speak! I speak now! Go back and tell your President that I have a full plan of Tlatonac in my possession, and that I will use it to take your city, and level its walls to the ground."
"If you can do so!" said Garibay, tauntingly.
