them rest, and accepting Rafael’s invitation, they sat down to a hastily spread meal. In the middle of it, Don Miguel, followed closely by the ubiquitous Tim, entered the patio.
“Buenos Dias, Señores,” said Maraquando, as the young men arose from their meal. “I have news.”
“Of Doña Dolores, Señor?”
“Yes, Don Felipe. Sad news! Alas! there is no doubt of it. She is on board The Pizarro.”
“How is this, my father?” asked Rafael, as Jack resumed his seat with a visage of despair.
“A fishing-boat came into the port late last night, and the men reported that they had passed a skiff containing a man and a veiled woman, making for The Pizarro.”
“Dolores!” sighed Jack, sadly; “but then, Señor Maraquando,” he added, with reviving hope, “it might have been Marina.”
“No, Señor. Marina was here when Padre Ignatius told us the boat was taken. I fear it is true. My poor niece has been decoyed away by that accursed zambo, and carried to the war-ship. Now she is on her way to Acauhtzin—to the rebel Xuarez.”
“Cheer up, old fellow!” cried Tim, thumping Jack on the shoulder, with a heavy but kindly fist. “We’ll have the colleen back soon. We’re all going to fight the rebels this day.”
“What’s that, Tim? The Bohemian——”
“Hold on, Jack! Don Miguel is speaking; he’ll tell you all!”
“Señor Felipe,” said Maraquando, removing his sombrero with suave courtesy; “in the name of the Republic of Cholacaca, I have to thank you for the offer of your ship, and to inform you that the Junta gladly accepts your aid with a thousand thousand thanks.”
“The pleasure is mine, Señor,” said Philip, courteously.
“The Junta, Don Felipe,” resumed Don Miguel gravely, “desire to know if you can leave Tlatonac by noon.”
“Certainly, Señor. By noon The Bohemian will steam northward. Are you to be of the party, Señor?”
“I regret to say I am not, Señor. His Excellency is pleased to consider that I will be more useful by his side. The message to Xuarez will be delivered by Don Alonzo Cebrian, the Intendante of the province of Xicotencatl. He will be accompanied by Colonel Garibay, my son Don Rafael, Captain Velez and about twenty soldiers. Can your vessel hold such a company, Señor.”
“Oh yes. If they don’t mind a little discomfort, Don Miguel. The Bohemian is rather small for such a number.”
“Fortunately, the voyage will not take long,” added Jack, thankfully. “With myself and you, Philip, the number tots up to twenty-six passengers.”
“Twenty-seven, Jack,” interposed Tim, quickly “I’m not going to miss the fun.”
“But your business, Tim,” remonstrated Philip, in alarm, afraid lest Fletcher’s fighting propensities should cause trouble at Acauhtzin.
“Well, isn’t this my business, sir? Interview with the rebel leader! It’s a fine article I’ll get out of that same, Philip.”
“Right you are, Tim. I’ll be glad of your company. But Peter?”
“We’ll leave him behind, to look after the ladies.”
“Don Miguel,” said Jack, who had been thinking deeply, “is the boat of Señor Felipe to sail under the English or the Cholacacan flag?”
“Under the flag of the opal, Señor.”
“In that case, Señor, a few shots will send her to the bottom, as she approaches Tlatonac. Don Hypolito will suspect treachery and fire on the ship.”
“He dare not fire on the opal banner, Señor.”
“I wouldn’t trust him. He’s a scoundrel,” retorted Jack, savagely. “Besides, war is proclaimed, and Xuarez won’t want any messages of peace.”
“Señor Maraquando,” said Philip, gravely, “I think it will be best to approach Acauhtzin under the English flag. When Don Alonzo delivers the message of the Junta, we can hoist the opal banner.”
“I will speak to his Excellency on the subject, Don Felipe,” replied Maraquando, a trifle haughtily, feeling rather nettled at the implied hint of the opal banner being treated with disrespect. “Meanwhile, you will be ready to start at noon.”
“Yes, Señor; at noon precisely.”
“Bueno! His Excellency and the Junta will be at the sea-gate to see you depart.”
After this, the three Englishmen bowed, and departed to get themselves ready for the journey to Acauhtzin.
“I say, Philip! You rather put the old gentleman’s back up!”
“Oh, confound it. I don’t want The Bohemian split up into matchwood. Xuarez will fire on the opal flag; but he’ll think twice before he insults the Union Jack.”
“Let him try,” said Tim, grimly; “and if I’m not kicking my heels at the bottom of the sea, I’ll wire to London about the insult, and bring the British navy like hornets about his ears. Come, John, my boy! Wake up! We’re going to bring back your darling.”
“That is if we can get her from Xuarez,” said Jack gloomily; “but I’m terribly afraid. If any harm has happened to her, I’ll kill him. By gad, I’ll choke the life out of him.”
“I’ll help you, Jack,” said Philip, earnestly, for his blood boiled at the thought of Dolores in the grasp of Xuarez; “but I think you’ll find Dolores can look after herself. Besides, Xuarez will be too much afraid of his allies, the Indians, to harm her.”
“You must change those fine feathers, boys,” said Tim, suddenly.
“And why?”
“Because it will never do to let Don Hypolito know you’re in this shindy. Afterwards it doesn’t matter; but, with the Union Jack flying, you can’t dress as Cholacacan soldiers.”
“Tim is right,” said Jack, after a pause; “we will change our clothes.”
“But not our intentions, Jack,” said Philip, anxious to keep up his friends’ spirits. “Dolores or war!”
“No,” cried Duval, with intense earnestness; “with me it is ‘Dolores or death!’”
Volume II
Chapter I.
Away to the North
Oh, leave the south, the languid south,
Its cloudless skies, its weary calms;
The land of heat, and glare, and drouth,
Where aloes bloom, and spring the palms.
There water is the best of alms,
To cool the ever-parched mouth;
Oh, with the breezes bearing balms,
Fly northward from the languid south.
Oh, seek the bitter northern skies,
Where falls the snow, and blows the sleet;
‘Mid which the stormy sea-bird cries,
And circles on its pinions fleet.
On rocky shores the surges beat,