BRITISH MYSTERIES - Fergus Hume Collection: 21 Thriller Novels in One Volume. Fergus Hume

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BRITISH MYSTERIES - Fergus Hume Collection: 21 Thriller Novels in One Volume - Fergus  Hume

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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

       Table of Contents

      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

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