of her conquest. Indeed, Philip did not know yet if she returned his love. Eulalia was a born coquette, and he was terribly afraid lest she should be only amusing herself. This enlistment in the army might clinch the matter, and induce her to smile on his suit.
“For your sake, I will play the bear,” he whispered, alluding to a foolish custom of the Cholacacans whereby a young man walks up and down in front of the window of his beloved like a bear.
“No; I do not care for you to play the bear, Señor. Fight in the regiment of my brother, and when you return victorious—well, who knows?”
Philip looked, Eulalia smiled significantly. They thoroughly understood one another, in spite of Doña Serafina and the restrictions of Cholacacan courtship. Eyes can speak as eloquently as can tongues, and are quite as intelligible—to the initiated.
“Kismet!” muttered Philip, as he went off the parade-ground with the ladies and his friends; “it is, written.”
“What is written?” asked Peter, who was always overhearing what was not meant for his ears.
“Your marriage to Doña Serafina,” laughed Philip, promptly; whereat the doctor shook his head.
“A man can’t marry his grandmother.”
Philip said no more; but returned to the side of Doña Eulalia, who had placed herself as far away from her duenna as was possible. This precaution was scarcely needed, as Doña Serafina had eyes for no one but Peter. She had not yet given up all hope of marriage, even at the mature age of five and forty. Peter was young and innocent; therefore Doña Serafina selected him as her victim, and under the guise of teaching him Spanish, strove to entangle him in her elderly meshes. Her eyes were still brilliant, and long experience had taught her how to use them. It was so much waste time as regards Peter. He was so impossible.
On leaving the Plaza de San Jago, the troops marched to their several quarters in the forts, and his Excellency the President went to inspect the defences of the city. Tlatonac was completely girdled by strong stone walls, and defended by heavy metal cannon, so that in the event of a sortie, particularly by a horde of naked Indians such as Xuarez’s force would be, there was but little doubt that the invaders could be easily repulsed with great slaughter. As regards a land attack from the interior, this was well enough, but if Xuarez bombarded the town there was no doubt that he could speedily reduce Tlatonac to a heap of ruins. Gomez trusted to the impassable forests between the capital and Acauhtzin to protect him from an inland invasion, and as the sea-forts were defended by heavy guns, hoped to cripple the ships of the enemy before they could do much harm.
The forts defending the coast were therefore the most important in his eyes, and, after examining the interior defences, he rode down to the sea front to inspect the preparations for keeping the ships of Xuarez beyond bombarding distance of the town. Thanks to English engineers, and a lavish outlay of money, the forts were superb pieces of workmanship; and their lofty walls frowning over the bay, with the muzzles of guns protruding from their embrasures, promised a difficult task to the invaders.
Between the two principal forts was the gate of the town, which opened into a low stretch of land covered with fishing-huts, through which a road ran down to the wharf. The Bohemian was lying close under the guns of the city, so that in the event of their being discharged, she would sustain no damage; and as His Excellency rode out of the city gate, his eyes rested admiringly on the beautiful little craft.
Only momentarily, however, for at that instant a cry burst from the lips of his aide-de-camp; and Gomez looked seaward.
“The Pizarro!” he cried in surprise.
It was indeed the old ship of Don Rafael, which was steaming slowly southward, a white flag fluttering at her mainmast head. Rafael uttered an ejaculation of rage, and Gomez turned his horse to ride back into the city, not knowing with what intentions the war-ship had come.
“One moment, Señor,” said Tim, catching the President’s horse by the bridle; “the vessel has a white flag, so she has come with a message from Acauhtzin.”
“Por Dios, we do not treat with rebels, Señor Correspoñsal.”
“Do not be rash, Excelencia. It is as well to know all these dogs have to say. See! they are lowering a boat.”
This was indeed the case. A quarter of a mile from the shore, The Pizarro cast anchor, fired three guns with blank cartridge, and then the boat already lowered was seen pulling straight for the wharf.
“Bueno! Señor Correspoñsal,” said Gormez, sorely against his will; “let it be as you say. We will wait here for their leader. But I am sorely tempted to order the forts to open fire on that boat.”
“A mistake, Excelencia,” interposed Maraquando at this moment; “we are civilised people, and must observe the rules of war. Besides,” he added significantly, letting his eyes rest on Tim, “have we not here the Correspoñsal? and all we do he will write off to England.”
“Bueno!” said the President again; “we will wait.”
The thunder of the cannon had brought a tremendous crowd to the walls, and down on to the beach. From the Presidential staff up to the gate, was one black mass of people, heaving with excitement. All kinds of rumours were flying from lip to lip. The Pizarro had come to bombard the town, and her consorts were now on their way for the same purpose. The vessel had returned to its allegiance, and had brought Xuarez to Tlatonac for punishment. All were disturbed, startled, puzzled, and watched with lynx eyes the little boat with the white flag at its stern now drawing steadily near to the wharf.
“What’s up now, Tim?” asked Philip, pushing his way through the crowd.
“A message from Don Hypolito, no less,” replied Fletcher, without turning round. “See! he is standing up in the boat. Be Jove! it’s a priest.”
“It must be Padre Ignatius,” cried Jack, who had a remarkably keen sight. “He went up to Acauhtzin, on some Church business, a week or so ago. Shovel-hat, white hair! Carambo! It is Padre Ignatius!”
The name of the priest speedily became known, and the crowd cheered, for the Padre was well known in Tlatonac. Gomez swore.
“Carrajo! He sends the Padre to make terms!”
“Terms with those dogs!” cried Don Rafael, stamping his foot. “Excelencia, I would hang them all.”
“Como, no!” muttered the President, his fingers closing viciously on the bridle-rein; “but we will hear what the Padre has to say.”
By this time the boat had reached the wharf, and Padre Ignatius, nimble as a young man, sprang up the wooden steps leading from the water. The moment he was out of the boat it turned seaward again, and before the onlookers could recover from their surprise, the oars were flashing in and out of the waves as it sped back to the war-ship. A roar of rage burst from the lips of all.
“Por Dios!” swore Maraquando, livid with wrath, “they have only landed the Padre, and now take themselves out of danger. Order the forts to open fire, Excelencia!”
Gomez had only to throw up his hand and the cannon would vomit fire. Knowing this, Jack stepped up impulsively to the President.
“Be not hasty, Señor, I beg of you. See, the Padre carries a white flag! He brings a message from Xuarez! First hear what it is, and then decide.”
His Excellency moved uneasily in his saddle, and bit his nether lip. He would dearly have liked to have pounded the rebel war-ship into matchwood for her insolent daring in thus defying the Government of Cholacaca, but he could not but see that such an extreme measure would be impolitic. Therefore he restrained his rage, and waited the approach of the Padre, who was now near at hand. Gomez, a true son of the Church, uncovered as the priest paused before him. The Padre raised his hand in token of benediction, and the staff also uncovered. With the atheistical opinions now prevalent in Cholacaca they would not have done this for any priest save Padre Ignatius, who was much beloved by rich