smile; “it is a corps raised in the last war by the ladies of Tlatonac. See! here come the valiant ones.”
“Foot soldiers!” said Jack, in disgust, as the regiment filed past; “no, Doña Serafina. Nothing less than a cavalry corps will suit us.”
“But can Don Pedro ride, Señor?”
“What’s that about me?” asked Peter, overhearing his name.
“Doña Serafina wants you to enlist,” explained Philip, maliciously.
“No,” replied Peter, firmly; “I will physic the soldiers, and cut off their legs and arms; but I am a man of peace, and I will not enlist.”
“You little duffer!” said Tim, reverting to his school-boy phraseology, “we’ll make you doctor of the regiment. I’d like to enlist myself, but the editor would never hear of such a thing. It’s my walking ticket I’d be getting if I did.”
“Well, Philip and myself shall enlist,” observed Jack, brightly. “You, Peter, shall attend to us when we are wounded, and Tim shall cover us with glory in the columns of The Morning Planet. He shall be the bard to celebrate our deeds.”
This scheme was explained to the ladies and found much favour in their sight. In fact, the whole female population of Tlatonac was seized with a violent attack of “scarlet fever,” and no one who was not a soldier found any favour in their eyes.
“You will be as valiant as the Cid,” said Dolores, looking tenderly at Jack from behind her black fan.
“With you to smile on me, I can scarcely be a coward,” he replied, in a low tone so as not to reach the vigilant ears of the duenna. “I will ask His Excellency for a commission in your cousin’s regiment.”
“And you also, Don Felipe,” said Eulalia, vivaciously. “El Regimiento del Caballeros is the finest in the army. You would look so well in the uniform.” She flashed a bewitching look at Philip, which sent that young man’s blood spinning through his veins. He had quite given up fighting against his fate, and was fathoms deep in love. Doña Eulalia could use her eyes with great effect, and Philip had now surrendered at discretion. It is only fair to say that the victress took no undue advantage of her conquest. Indeed, Philip did not know yet if she returned his love. Eulalia was a born coquette, and he was terribly afraid lest she should be only amusing herself. This enlistment in the army might clinch the matter, and induce her to smile on his suit.
“For your sake, I will play the bear,” he whispered, alluding to a foolish custom of the Cholacacans whereby a young man walks up and down in front of the window of his beloved like a bear.
“No; I do not care for you to play the bear, Señor. Fight in the regiment of my brother, and when you return victorious—well, who knows?”
Philip looked, Eulalia smiled significantly. They thoroughly understood one another, in spite of Doña Serafina and the restrictions of Cholacacan courtship. Eyes can speak as eloquently as can tongues, and are quite as intelligible—to the initiated.
“Kismet!” muttered Philip, as he went off the parade-ground with the ladies and his friends; “it is, written.”
“What is written?” asked Peter, who was always overhearing what was not meant for his ears.
“Your marriage to Doña Serafina,” laughed Philip, promptly; whereat the doctor shook his head.
“A man can’t marry his grandmother.”
Philip said no more; but returned to the side of Doña Eulalia, who had placed herself as far away from her duenna as was possible. This precaution was scarcely needed, as Doña Serafina had eyes for no one but Peter. She had not yet given up all hope of marriage, even at the mature age of five and forty. Peter was young and innocent; therefore Doña Serafina selected him as her victim, and under the guise of teaching him Spanish, strove to entangle him in her elderly meshes. Her eyes were still brilliant, and long experience had taught her how to use them. It was so much waste time as regards Peter. He was so impossible.
On leaving the Plaza de San Jago, the troops marched to their several quarters in the forts, and his Excellency the President went to inspect the defences of the city. Tlatonac was completely girdled by strong stone walls, and defended by heavy metal cannon, so that in the event of a sortie, particularly by a horde of naked Indians such as Xuarez’s force would be, there was but little doubt that the invaders could be easily repulsed with great slaughter. As regards a land attack from the interior, this was well enough, but if Xuarez bombarded the town there was no doubt that he could speedily reduce Tlatonac to a heap of ruins. Gomez trusted to the impassable forests between the capital and Acauhtzin to protect him from an inland invasion, and as the sea-forts were defended by heavy guns, hoped to cripple the ships of the enemy before they could do much harm.
The forts defending the coast were therefore the most important in his eyes, and, after examining the interior defences, he rode down to the sea front to inspect the preparations for keeping the ships of Xuarez beyond bombarding distance of the town. Thanks to English engineers, and a lavish outlay of money, the forts were superb pieces of workmanship; and their lofty walls frowning over the bay, with the muzzles of guns protruding from their embrasures, promised a difficult task to the invaders.
Between the two principal forts was the gate of the town, which opened into a low stretch of land covered with fishing-huts, through which a road ran down to the wharf. The Bohemian was lying close under the guns of the city, so that in the event of their being discharged, she would sustain no damage; and as His Excellency rode out of the city gate, his eyes rested admiringly on the beautiful little craft.
Only momentarily, however, for at that instant a cry burst from the lips of his aide-de-camp; and Gomez looked seaward.
“The Pizarro!” he cried in surprise.
It was indeed the old ship of Don Rafael, which was steaming slowly southward, a white flag fluttering at her mainmast head. Rafael uttered an ejaculation of rage, and Gomez turned his horse to ride back into the city, not knowing with what intentions the war-ship had come.
“One moment, Señor,” said Tim, catching the President’s horse by the bridle; “the vessel has a white flag, so she has come with a message from Acauhtzin.”
“Por Dios, we do not treat with rebels, Señor Correspoñsal.”
“Do not be rash, Excelencia. It is as well to know all these dogs have to say. See! they are lowering a boat.”
This was indeed the case. A quarter of a mile from the shore, The Pizarro cast anchor, fired three guns with blank cartridge, and then the boat already lowered was seen pulling straight for the wharf.
“Bueno! Señor Correspoñsal,” said Gormez, sorely against his will; “let it be as you say. We will wait here for their leader. But I am sorely tempted to order the forts to open fire on that boat.”
“A mistake, Excelencia,” interposed Maraquando at this moment; “we are civilised people, and must observe the rules of war. Besides,” he added significantly, letting his eyes rest on Tim, “have we not here the Correspoñsal? and all we do he will write off to England.”
“Bueno!” said the President again; “we will wait.”
The thunder of the cannon had brought a tremendous
