“Assuredly Señor, Don Sebastian de Ahumada has left me but this moment. He informed me of the affair, and also delivered the instructions from His Excellency. I find here,” added Gigedo, striking a pile of papers with his open hand, “that over a thousand men left Tlatonac for the front, four days ago.”
“That is so, General. My friend, Señor Felipe, was with them.”
“They have not arrived, Don Juan. The troops of Xuarez cannot have intercepted them and I am at a loss to understand this delay. Can you explain?”
“Señor,” said Jack after a pause, “before I left Tlatonac there were rumours of an Indian rising. While a prisoner at Totatzine I saw myself the tribes, incited to war by Ixtlilxochitli, the High Priest of the Chalchuih Tlatonac.”
“Ah, that cursed opal!” cried Garibay, fiercely; “it is the cause of great trouble. Would that it could be taken from the Indians.”
“Rest content, Señor Garibay; it is taken from the Indians. Doña Dolores took it from the shrine, and it is now in Tlatonac.”
“Dios!” exclaimed the General and Garibay, simultaneously, while Tim was scarcely less astonished.
“Naturally enough the Indians wish to recover this sacred gem, Señor, therefore the rising has taken place sooner than was expected. I fear, gentlemen, that the Indians have surprised and massacred our poor friends.”
“Santissima Madre! a thousand men?”
“The Indian forces amount to three times that number,” said Jack, quickly. “It is true that His Excellency, at my request, sent messengers after the reinforcements to warn them of a possible attack. Yet it is not unlikely that these messengers may have been intercepted by the Indians. They might have fallen on the reinforcements without warning, and then—Señor, three thousand against one thousand—an unexpected attack. Alas! it is a terrible risk.”
“Our troops may have retreated to one of the towns,” said Gigedo, taking the same view of the case as had Tim. “This I would know if the telegraph wires had not been cut. But as it is we can but wait.”
“And meantime,” remarked Garibay, dryly “Xuarez will land some troops—already two thousand lie before the town—we have hard work, even behind our walls to keep them back. Now we have scarcely five hundred here capable of defending the town. Many are dead and wounded—fever and dysentery prevail greatly. If Xuarez lands more troops and makes an immediate attack Janjalla must fall.”
“He cannot land more troops while The Iturbide and the torpederas guard the harbour.” said Gigedo in a tone of some displeasure; “and even if these two thousand again assault the walls we can hold out until reinforcements arrive. His Excellency tells me that two thousand men are to follow in ten days.”
“Hark!” cried Tim, as Garibay was about to reply; “a gun!—another. Señores, the warships are at it again. With your permission, General.”
He hastily left the room and went off to the walls where he was soon afterwards joined by Jack, who had been hurriedly dismissed by the General. They looked seaward, and saw the performance of a most extraordinary drama.
It was now about three o’clock, and the ocean like a sheet of glass stretched in an inclined plane upward to the distant horizon. Owing to the elevation of the city walls they looked down, as from the heights of an amphitheatre. The ramparts were crowded with spectators, townsfolk and soldiers. Immediately below was the beach, the rebel camp—then the long pier shooting out into the blue, and beyond the flashing expanse of the sea. The Iturbide was lying a quarter of a mile from the shore with her two torpederas, one on each side of her. The cruiser had swung round, and was firing her guns at a slowly approaching warship.
“The Columbus!” cried Jack, when his eyes fell upon this vessel.
“True for you, John,” said Tim, handing him the glass. “She has come south by herself. I thought you told me the transports were not due here till midnight.”
“No more they are. I expect Xuarez, learning through his spies of our departure from Tlatonac has sent The Columbus on ahead to join forces with The Pizarro. With two warships he hopes to keep our lot at bay till the transports with the Cortes are safe in the harbour.”
“The sinking of The Pizarro will rather upset his plans. The Columbus dare not attack two torpederas and a cruiser, single-handed.”
“Upon my soul! that seems exactly what she intends to do, Tim.”
A low murmur of surprise arose from the crowd on the ramparts, who were eagerly watching the warships. It seemed as though The Columbus was bent on her own destruction, for she came steaming straight ahead for the three ships of the Junta, insolently flying the red flag of Xuarez.
“What the deuce does she mean,” cried Tim, in perplexity. “Surely she can’t mistake The Iturbide for her consort.”
“Perhaps she intends to desert,” suggested Jack.
The Columbus was now more within range, and though hitherto she had been silent under the fire of The Iturbide, she now began to speak in her turn, and a white line of smoke ran along her black sides as the balls came singing over the water.
“Not much deserting about that,” said Tim, grimly; “no! the rebels have some scheme in their heads.”
By this time Pedraza was thoroughly enraged at the insolence of this one ship attacking him single-handed, and signalled at once to the torpederas. The captain of The Columbus saw that the signals ordered the boats to “up anchor,” and acted accordingly. In a surprisingly short space of time the rebel ship had swung round, and with full steam ahead was standing out to sea. The ships of the Junta were taken by surprise at their manœuvre, and it was fully a question of an hour before they started in pursuit. Tim shut his glass with a click.
“Jack, I see it all. The Columbus wants to get our boats out of the harbour so as to let The Cortes and the transports slip in together.”
“Rather a risky game, Tim. She’ll be overhauled and sunk by the torpederas in no time.”
“Not while she can keep them off with her heavy guns! What speed have the torpederas?”
“Eighteen to nineteen knots.”
“And The Columbus?”
“Well, Rafael says her ordinary speed is fifteen but in case of need she can crack up steam to eighteen.”
“Even that gives the torpederas one knot to the good. But she can outsteam The Iturbide.”
“Oh yes; sixteen is her limit!”
“Then I tell you what! The Columbus, as I said, has come here as a decoy—she knows the cruiser can’t touch her speed, and she hopes to keep the torpederas at a safe distance with her heavy guns. She’s off in a bee line straight out, and the other boats are after her. Then she’ll dodge them and steam back here to find The Cortes and the transports all safe in harbour.”
“I believe you are right, Tim.”
“Of course I’m right. Look at the way she’s smoking through the water.”
Jack put the glass to his eyes and saw The Columbus was travelling at top speed towards the open sea. After her scampered the two torpedo boats like hounds on her trail. Further behind The Iturbide with the black smoke vomiting from her funnels was putting her soul into the chase. Pedraza was evidently determined to follow up one victory by another, and over eager to sink or capture the crack ironclad of the rebels, forgot all about the incoming transports. Thus, in half an hour the four ships were mere specks on the horizon, and the harbour of Janjalla was left open for the arrival of Xuarez and fresh troops.
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