“Four days ago.”
“Four days! One hundred miles!”
The three friends, amid the tumult around them, with the enemy thundering at the gate, looked at one another in silent dread. Then Jack took off his sombrero.
“Poor Philip!” he said, solemnly. “I was afraid of those Indians. Oh, my poor friend!”
Volume III
Chapter I.
Within the Walls
Circle of stone,
Circle of steel,
Loyalists true,
Pent up in battle belts twain;
Yet we, alone,
Doubly feel,
That with our few,
We shall a victory gain.
Climb up our foes,
Over the wall,
Deep bit the swords,
Fiercely the cannon spout fire;
Yet ‘neath our blows,
Downward they fall,
Traitorous hordes,
In torment and blood to expire.
Tim at once took his friends to his quarters, and made them comfortable, but scarcely had they finished a hurried meal, when an aide-de-camp arrived from General Gigedo requiring their presence without delay. As Peter had received a nasty blow on the head during the mêlée, Jack insisted that he should remain behind and rest himself. Peter feebly remonstrated against this arrangement, as he wanted to accompany his friends, but in the end was forced to yield to their insistence. Then Duval buckled on his sword, slipped his revolvers into his belt, and went off with Tim to report himself at head-quarters.
Both of them were terribly alarmed about Philip. In the first burst of emotion Jack had deemed his friend dead; but, on looking at the matter calmly, it seemed probable that he would yet turn up well and unhurt. It was impossible that Indians, in whatever number, could utterly exterminate a body of disciplined troops amounting to a thousand men. Tim’s opinion was that if they had been attacked and overpowered by strategy, they had fled to the nearest town for shelter. As he had marched overland with Colonel Garibay from Tlatonac, he knew the country better than did Jack, and proceeded to defend his theory of the reinforcements’ safety, by describing the position of the towns.
“It’s a hundred miles or more as the crow flies from Tlatonac to this God-forsaken place. Within that limit are four towns, no less—one every twenty miles. When we marched south two weeks ago, we first went to Chichimec, then to Puebla de los Naranjos, which last one is midway. Hermanita is next, and then after dropping in at Centeotl, we came on to Janjalla!”
“Still, if the Indians surprised them by night they might have surrounded and exterminated the whole lot. To my mind nothing is so dangerous as a despised enemy.”
“What!” cried Tim, with great contempt, “d’you mean to tell me that a lot of naked savages could manage that. By my soul, ‘tis impossible!”
“But, my dear fellow, the Indians are out in thousands. Cocom told me so.”
“They may be out in millions,” retorted Tim, emphatically. “I tell you, Jack, they couldn’t have killed all these men. A good number of them must have escaped to the nearest town, and, I’ll lay my soul on it, that among those who got away is Philip. He wasn’t born to be murdered by a lot of howling savages.”
“Well, let us hope so,” replied Jack, who was beginning to take this comfortable view of things himself; “but, tell me, Tim, when the reinforcements didn’t arrive, why did you not wire to Tlatonac?”
“Begad! I couldn’t. The rebels cut the telegraph wires some days since. The last message was that you and Doña Dolores had come back safely. Ah, my boy,” cried Tim, slapping Jack on the shoulder, “didn’t I sing ‘Glory Hallelujah,’ when I heard that same. But, I knew you’d turn up again all safe.”
“I didn’t know it myself!” replied Jack, grimly “it was touch and go, I can tell you.”
“Dioul! You must tell me all about it. But hold your noise, Jack, and don’t be lamenting for Philip. If you returned, so will he.”
“I fervently hope so,” said Jack, gloomily; “but I own that I feel doubtful. Are the wires cut on both sides of the town?”
“No! glory be to the saints. I can still telegraph to England by the wires going south, but I expect them to be cut every minute, so I’m hard at work sending all the news I can.”
“Did you see the fight last night?”
“Did I not! Whow, my boy! I guessed what was up, but till the dawn we weren’t quite sure of the trouble. Begad! The Pizarro’s gone anyhow.”
“Yes. But the other warships and transports are due to-night.”
“Then we’ll have another fight,” said Tim, coolly; “wasn’t I wishing I was on board a torpedera! There’s a heap to talk about, Jack; how you escaped from that infernal Xuarez, and how you sank The Pizarro. I want to wire about that same right away.”
“First I must see what the General desires. Oh, here is Garibay. A thousand greetings, Colonel.”
“What, Señor Juan! Ah, mi amigo, how pleased I am to see you safe once more. I deemed you were dead.”
“Dios! He is a merry corpse, Señor,” said Tim, turning his head. “Where’s the General?”
“Within yonder house of the Jefe Politico. You also, Señor Correspoñsal, does he desire to see.”
“I am at the service of Señor Gigedo. Know you, Comandante, what he desires to speak of?”
“It is that you will convey the glorious news of our naval victory to your gran’diario.”
“Dios! That will be done within an hour. I but waited to find out all particulars from Don Juan.”
“Oh! I can tell you everything,” said Jack cheerfully, “I was on board The Montezuma with Don Rafael, and it was her torpedo which sank The Pizarro.”
“Viva los Torpederas,” shouted Garibay, who was greatly excited over this unexpected victory.
The cry was taken up by a chattering group of officers lounging in from off the General’s headquarters, and Jack being recognized was at once surrounded by them. They were mostly young fellows, who were weary of being pent up within the walls of a suburban town, and saw in this sinking of The Pizarro, a chance of coming face to face with the enemy. It was all cries of Viva! Bueno! Gracias a Dios! as Duval passed through their midst, and many would fain have detained him, to learn particulars of the combat; but Jack was anxious to hear Gigedo’s views concerning the non-arrival of the reinforcements, so entered the mansion at once. Colonel Garibay conducted them both without delay to the General’s apartments. Gigedo, cigarette in mouth, was poring over a large map of the country, evidently tracing the line of march from Tlatonac, but on seeing Duval, he sprang up and advanced to salute him, with a pleased smile.
“A thousand congratulations, Señor, on your escape from the hands of Xuarez,” he said, warmly; “and