"And Xuarez is a great man," scoffed Tim, wiping the blood from his face.
"Well," retorted Philip, viciously, "he's not responsible for this mob."
"When we return," swore Rafael, who stood near him, "we will level those walls with the sand."
By this time the yacht had passed out of the harbour, and was steaming between the two war-ships. Don Alonzo began to recover his courage.
"Thanks to the Holy Virgin, we are all safe, Señores," he said, in a trembling voice. "The Junta will bitterly resent this insult shown to the Intendante of Xicotencatl."
Philip looked around with an alarmed expression of countenance.
"Where's Jack?"
"Jack!" cried Tim, in a stentorian voice.
There was no answer.
"Señor Juan was with me," said Rafael, quickly, "but I lost him from my side outside the gate."
"He must be down below," said Philip, greatly disturbed, and went off to the cabin. In a few moments he reappeared.
"He is not there. My God! Can he be lost?"
The yacht was searched thoroughly, but no trace of Jack Duval could be found. Philip wanted to put back and rescue his friend, who had been evidently left ashore.
"Impossible, Señor!" cried Don Alonzo, in alarm; "it is dangerous."
"I do not care. Do you think I am going to leave my dear friend to be torn to pieces by these savages?" raged Philip, stamping his foot.
"The soldiers will protect him," said Garibay, who was terribly upset at the discovery of their loss. He was very fond of Jack.
"Did they protect us?" said Tim, who was quite beside himself with grief and rage. "Turn her head back, Philip."
Don Rafael, Tim, and the baronet were all in favour of doing this, but Don Alonzo and Garibay said it would be madness. By this time they were beyond the range of the fort guns, and in safety; but notwithstanding the remonstrances of the terrified Intendante, Philip altered the course of the boat, and started back to the harbour.
"I will save Jack, if I die for it," he said, fiercely.
Just as The Bohemian approached the warships, a puff of smoke burst from the sides of both, and two balls ricochetted across the waves.
"Not blank cartridge this time," muttered Tim, grimly, "The dirty cowards, to fire on an unarmed boat. And the forts!"
One! two! three! four! A perfect cannonade thundered from the forts, and one of the spars of the boat was carried away. The warships repeated their fire, and, against his will, Philip was forced to stop the engines. It was no use running into a hornet's nest. Another quarter of a mile, nay less, and The Bohemian would be smashed to pieces. The engines were reversed, and Philip shook his fist wildly at the town.
"First Dolores! then Jack! Oh, cursed, cursed town!"
CHAPTER IV
RIVALS
I this side! You that side! – a woman between us,
You love her! – I love her! – each fain would caress her.
By Paul, I will never surrender this Venus,
For I in my arms would for ever possess her.
You say that she loves you! A lie! – for she told me
Her heart had no caring for love or for lover.
Let her but a moment behold you! behold me!
And he whom she chooses we'll quickly discover.
Well, say! – we'll suppose it! – to you she is tender!
And goes with you thither; while I remain lonely,
Think you that this woman I thus would surrender?
Nay! she shall remain with me! mine to be only.
Why, you are my captive! but though I can slay you!
Give over this folly – you'll find me a true man!
Nay more, you are free, honoured, wealthy – what say you?
What madman refuse you! – then lose life and woman.
Jack recovered his senses in complete darkness. He put his hand to his head and heard the clank of a fetter, felt the cold iron clasp his wrist. He moved his legs, more chains, and the unexpected discovery that he was lying on straw. Not a ray of light anywhere to be seen. On all sides darkness, the darkness of Egypt. Rolling heavily to one side with a groan of pain forced from him by his aching head, he felt the cold chill of a stone floor. Straw, chains, stones, darkness! What did it all mean? He tried to think, but his head was confused, stunned as with a blow. It was a blow! For at the back of his cranium he felt a wound, his fingers were moist with his own blood.
Slowly, slowly, his scattered senses came back to him, and he strove to recall all that had taken place since he had left the Palacio Nacional. Yes! he had gone down the street with the rest of his friends. Rafael had walked by his side, Philip and Tim had marched on in front. Then the howling mob on all sides dashing itself against the lines of soldiers. A dragoon had fallen by the sea-gate just as they were on the verge of safety – the mob rushed in through the gap – then he remembered fighting desperately – a blow on the head – a cowardly blow delivered from behind, and he remembered no more. Remembrance ceased with that blow, it revived again here in darkness, with him lying on a straw bed chained like a prisoner. A prisoner! Jack saw his position in a moment – he was in prison, at the mercy of his rival, of the lover of Dolores, of Don Hypolito Xuarez, rebel and traitor.
"Great Heaven," moaned Jack, as the horrors of his situation slowly dawned on his confused brain, "this must all have been designed by that scoundrel, Xuarez. His promises that we should go unscathed were all lies. Philip! Tim! poor Rafael! Where are they now? Perhaps in this accursed prison."
It was so dark that he was afraid to move lest he should fall into danger. At length he put out his hand cautiously, and, kneeling forward, felt all round his bed. The straw was simply thrown on the floor in a heap, and on three sides he found nothing but the pavement, on the fourth the massive stones of the wall. Unexpectedly his hand touched a crock of water, and drawing this towards him, he found it full, much to his delight, as, owing to his wound, he was consumed with a burning thirst. After taking a good draught, he sat back on his straw to think of what he should do next.
Jack was always cool in time of danger. The obstacles which would have appalled other men only sharpened his wits, and as his brain was now clearer, he set himself to work to think over the situation. Before doing this, however, he soaked his handkerchief in the little water remaining at the bottom of the crock, and bound it round his head. The cool cloth somewhat assuaged the throbbing of his wound and thus quieted his heated brain.
On leaving Tlatonac, Jack and his friends had doffed their fine uniforms as likely to compromise them in the eyes of Xuarez, and reassumed their European garb. He was, therefore, dressed in a Norfolk jacket, with trousers of rough blue serge, these latter being tucked into high riding-boots of untanned leather. The pith helmet he had worn had evidently been knocked off in the struggle at the sea-gate, as his head was bare; but, on feeling his pockets, he found everything else was safe. Money, knife, keys, they were all there; but his revolver was gone, a loss which he much regretted.
The first thing he did was to remove his fetters, which he managed with some difficulty and the assistance of his knife. Luckily they were only of light steel, and had evidently been put on more through the malignity of Xuarez than because they prevented his escape. Indeed, it was a useless precaution, for, even now that they were removed, he knew not where he was, and in which direction to turn for egress. With his knife he managed to bend back the links of one chain so that it parted, leaving the steel ring still on the wrist; but, with considerable pain to his hand, he managed to slip it through the other. As regards the rings round his ankles, Jack was unusually powerful, and, in spite of his wound, with the strength of despair, managed to wrench the