“This is for thee, my own one,” she whispered slipping it into his hand. “It has been blessed by Padre Ignatius. Nought can hurt thee while the sacred thing is on thy heart.”
Philip kissed the cross, kissed Eulalia, and swore he would never part with it throughout the campaign. In the middle of their tender leave-taking, a trumpet pealed forth in the Plaza de los Hombres Ilustres. It was the signal for departure.
“I must go! Farewell, my dear one. Watch from the azotea, and let your face be the last thing I behold in Tlatonac.”
“Adios, mi alma,” murmured Eulalia, and embraced him fondly, after which, Philip, turning hastily away, shook hands with Jack, and kissed the hands of Dolores and Serafina, the latter of whom had just entered the patio.
“Adieu, dear ladies. Good-bye, Jack. Take care of yourself, and don’t be carried off to any more Indian cities. We meet at Philippi. Adios!”
With a wave of his hand he was gone, and Jack escorted the ladies to the azotea to watch the regiments departing. The Plaza was crowded with soldiers and women, the latter taking tearful leave of those marching to the front. President Gomez, attended by a brilliant staff, among whom Jack saw Don Miguel and his son, made a speech full of fire and patriotism, which caused the utmost enthusiasm. Then the banners of the different regiments were unfurled, the bands began to play the March of Zuloaga, and the soldiers began to file out of the square by the Calle Otumba.
Regiment after regiment marched past, through streets wreathed with flowers, amid tears, cheers, and wavings of handkerchiefs. The house-tops were crowded with ladies looking down on the troops. They made a gallant show as they tramped along with waving plumes and glittering arms. The cavalry soldiers came first, and those on the azotea of the Casa Maraquando saw Sir Philip riding by the side of Captain Velez, at the head of the Regimiento de los Caballeros. The banners streamed in the air, the horses champed their bits, and proudly pawed the earth, and, one vast rainbow of hues, this splendid body of men moved majestically past. Philip was riding with his drawn sword sloping over his shoulder, and as he passed the Casa Maraquando, looked up, and saluted the ladies. Eulalia hastily snatching a bunch of jasmine from her breast, let it drop when he was directly underneath. The baronet dexterously caught it, and pressing a kiss on the blossoms, fastened them in his jacket. In another minute or so, he disappeared round the corner of the street on the way to the Puerta de la Culebra, from whence the troops marched southward to Janjalla.
After the disappearance of Philip, Eulalia took no further interest in the proceedings of the day, and retired to her room, followed by Dolores, who strove to console her. Jack not caring for the sole companionship of Doña Serafina, excused himself on the plea that he wanted to ride after the troops and give Philip a message to Tim. Doña Serafina graciously permitted him to depart, and he dashed out of the house, flung himself on his horse, which was waiting at the door, and was about to ride towards the Puerta de la Culebra when Don Rafael came riding at full speed out of the Plaza! The young man seemed much excited, and in his headlong rush knocked down two or three people, so crowded was the street. Never heeding their cries, he raced past Jack, waving his hand.
“To The Montezuma, mi amigo! News of the war-ships.”
Anxious to know what fresh event had taken place, and fearful that Janjalla had fallen, Jack spurred his horse after Rafael, and at a break-neck speed they clattered down the street to the sea-gate scattering the crowd in every direction.
Outside the sea-gate, Rafael headed to the left, where the torpedera Montezuma was lying, and jumping off his horse, threw the reins to a peon, and called a boat. Jack followed his example, and in a few moments they were pulling for the torpedo-vessel.
“Carambo mi amigo!” said Jack, breathlessly, “you ride like the devil. What is the matter now?”
“His Excellency has just received news that two of the war-ships have returned to Acauhtzin.”
“What! Have they given up the siege?”
“No. They are acting as convoy to the transports. Xuarez is sending more troops south, and, knowing that our torpederas are not ready, thinks that The Pizarro, single-handed, is sufficient to blockade Janjalla.”
“Then he has landed his other troops?” said Jack, as they sprang on board The Montezuma. “The ship guns have evidently silenced the forts, and permitted the rebels to get on shore.”
“Precisely! But what matter? Reinforcements are now on their way by land, and we, my friend, will start to-morrow by sea to smash up The Pizarro.”
“Will the torpederas be ready?”
“They must be ready!” cried Rafael, stamping his foot. “We may never get such another chance. If we can only sink The Pizarro, it will dishearten the troops of Xuarez now besieging Janjalla, and they can be easily defeated.”
“If we can manage that, it will be a sad blow to Don Hypolito!”
“Dios! so I should think,” replied Rafael, laughing gaily. “He will come south with more troops, and find Janjalla occupied by us, and his way barred by two torpederas and The Iturbide. Then The Pizarro’s loss won’t please him. Carajo! no.”
“Bueno! But you forget The Pizarro has search-lights, torpedo-netting——”
“Not the last, mi amigo!” interrupted Rafael quickly. “I told you before, the netting was left behind in Tlatonac when the war-ships left for Acauhtzin. As to the search-lights, she can keep them on The Iturbide or on the other torpedera. Then, my friend, The Montezuma will make things unpleasant for her.”
“It’s a mere chance, Rafael!”
“Quien sabe!” retorted the young man, shrugging his shoulders; “all warfare is mere chance. Come and look over the boat.”
As the fittings of the torpederas were somewhat complicated, engineers had been sent out from England in charge, and these, being paid heavily by the Junta, remained to manœuvre the boats. Among them Jack discovered a Scotchman, from Aberdeen, with whom he struck up a friendship. This gentleman, whose clan was Mackenzie, showed them all over the boat, and spoke in terms of great affection of the Whitehead torpedoes.
“Eh, mon!” he observed to Jack, as they surveyed those triumphs of modern warfare, “jouist gie her a shove, an’ she’ll smash the hail boatie to bits—into sma’ bits.”
“That is if the ship you propose to smash doesn’t bring her heavy guns to bear on this boat.”
“Hoots! hoots! mon. The Montyzumy can gang her ain gait. Nineteen knots an hour! Ma certie, it wud tack a braw gun to catch the likes o’ her.”
When they returned on deck from their inspection of the ship, a note was brought to Rafael, from Captain Pedraza, of The Iturbide, requesting his presence on board. They dropped into a boat, and were speedily clambering up the giant sides of the cruiser. Being conducted to the state-room, they found Captain Pedraza, surrounded by his officers, reading a message from the President.
“Ola mis amigos!” cried the captain, gaily, “you are just in time. Señor Juan, I am your servant. Don Rafael, we leave Tlatonac for Janjalla to-morrow afternoon.”
“Why in the afternoon?”
“Carambo. So as to reach Janjalla at night. The Pizarro is lying there in the harbour, and, under cover of darkness, we may be able to sink her either with our guns or by means of torpedoes.”
“Will the torpederas be ready?” asked Jack, for the second time.
“You may be certain of that,” said Rafael, significantly. “I will guarantee that The