they also implored Don Sebastian to ask Gomez to send aid, lest they should fall victims to the rebels or to the Indians.
After taking a hurried meal, the fugitives once more proceeded on their way to the north. Towards noon they struck Puebla de los Naranjos, and found it a heap of ruins. Undefended as were the other towns by stone walls, the town was surrounded by orange groves, and had therefore been easily captured by the Indians. A few terrified survivors crept about the ruins of their houses, the streets were thick with dead bodies, and the whole place presented a scene of unexampled desolation. Those folks who survived said that the Indians had plundered the town two days previously, and had then departed with the intention of taking Chichimec. As this city was only distant twenty miles from the capital, the little party was quite appalled at the audacity of the savages. It showed how little they cared for the power of the Republic.
“If Gomez had crushed this rebellion at once, all would have been well,” said Jack, as they rode from the smoking ruins of Puebla de los Naranjos; “but now it seems as though the Indians and Xuarez were going to have it all their own way.”
“Gomez should have placed the command of affairs in the hands of a competent man, and not meddled with them,” replied Philip, impatiently. “He keeps all his army in the capital, and lets the country be laid waste. The end will be that all the inland towns will join with Xuarez, and the capital will be besieged. With the whole of Cholacaca against it, the capital must fall.”
“Unless the Junta can capture or sink the two remaining warships of Xuarez,” said Don Sebastian, who was fearfully enraged at the destruction of the country.
“True! Then Xuarez won’t be able to get more troops from Acauhtzin.”
“He has got quite enough troops, as it is to make things unpleasant for the capital,” said Tim, in Spanish, for the benefit of Don Sebastian. “Six thousand at Janjalla—five thousand Indians. Quite enough to invest the town. The Junta has but eight thousand troops in Tlatonac.”
“Well, that’s a good number!”
“Yes; but what with his own troops and the savages, Xuarez has three thousand to the good. Besides which, he is a capable general.”
“If the Indians could only be detached from his cause, the rebellion might be crushed,” said Jack, ponderingly. “It is the only way of saving the present Government.”
“There is no chance of doing that,” replied Tim, disconsolately. “The Indians are mad about the loss of the opal, and will fight like fiends to get it back.”
“Perhaps they can be quietened by means of the opal!”
“Dios!” exclaimed Sebastian, turning in his saddle. “What mean you, Señor?”
“I have an idea,” replied Jack, quietly. “It was suggested to me by a remark of Cocom’s.”
“And this idea?”
“I will not tell you at present, lest I should fail to carry it out, and thus disappoint your hopes. Wait till we reach Tlatonac.”
“If we ever do get there,” muttered Philip, savagely. “Now we are half way to Chichimec, gentlemen. There, according to report, the Indians are camped. I vote we make a detour, and reach Tlatonac in some other way. Do you know of a road, Don Sebastian?”
“No, Señor. I know not this country.”
“I do!” cried Duval, suddenly. “I have been all over this portion. That is a good idea of yours, Philip! We must avoid the Indians. I know a road!”
“Bueno! Take the lead.”
It was fortunate, indeed, that Philip suggested such an idea, and that Jack’s knowledge of the country enabled them to carry it out, else they would assuredly have fallen into the hands of the Indians. Making a detour towards the coast, they managed to avoid Chichimec by some miles. They learned from a peon, whom they met making his way to Tlatonac, that the town was entirely invested by the savages, but that as yet, thanks to the strong walls, they had been unable to effect an entrance. The Jefe Politico had sent this peon to the capital with a request for immediate aid from Don Francisco.
“What, in God’s name, can the President be thinking about?” cried Jack, on hearing this intelligence. “He is simply playing into the hands of his enemies.”
“Things certainly look bad for the Junta, owing to his negligence. Janjalla captured by Xuarez. Puebla de los Naranjos ravaged, Chichimec invested. Perhaps, when the whole country is in the hands of Don Hypolito, this very wise ruler will bestir himself.”
“Wait till I have a conversation with Don Miguel!” muttered Jack, striking the spurs into his horse. “We are outsiders, and cannot interfere with local politics; but it makes me sick to see how Gomez is fooling away his chances. If I can only rouse Don Miguel into making things hot for the President, I shall do so!”
“A house divided against itself——” began Peter; but Tim cut him short.
“Hold your tongue, Peter. Jack is quite right. Unless a good man is put at the head of affairs, Don Hypolito will enter Tlatonac within the month. It’s a mighty black look-out for the Government. Don Francisco ought to be shunted at once.”
The peon ran alongside them, and kept up with their horses in the most wonderful manner. It was noon when they left Puebla de los Naranjos, and it was now late at night. In ten hours they had come nearly fifty miles. Their horses were quite worn out, owing to the incessant galloping. Now they were within a mile of the capital, and already, in the dim light, could see the line of walls looming in the distance. They were glad it was dark, or, rather, comparatively so, as it afforded them a certain amount of protection from wandering Indian scouts.
“The luck holds!” said Philip, thankfully, as they rode towards the Puerta de la Culebra. “We have not seen a single savage since we left Janjalla.”
“Had it not been for your forethought, Philip, they would have had our scalps by this time.”
“My thought, but your actions, Jack. It was lucky you knew the country.”
“A mutual admiration society, you are!” cried Tim, whose spirits were wonderfully light. “How do you feel, Peter?”
“Worn out,” replied the doctor, laconically.
“Faith. I’m not astonished. I’m bumped to death also. A hundred miles isn’t bad for an inferior rider like myself.”
“Oh, you are a war correspondent,” began Peter, fretfully, when his remarks were cut short by an exclamation from Sebastian.
“Dios! the gates are open! Soldiers are coming out!”
“Reinforcements for Janjalla. I’ve no doubt,” said Philip, grimly. “They are a trifle late. Come, gentlemen, let us see the officer in charge.”
They urged their jaded horses towards the gate. At the sight of the little party, the soldiers halted, and an officer rode to the front.
“From whence come you, Señores?” he asked in surprise.
“From Janjalla.”
“Janjalla? Why, we are just marching thither, Señor.”
“You can spare yourself the trouble!” replied Jack, grimly. “Janjalla has fallen.”
The news passed rapidly from mouth to mouth, and a cry of rage went up from the throng.
“Moreover,” added Jack, quietly. “Puebla de los Naranjos has been attacked and sacked by the Indians!”
Another cry of rage.
“And,” concluded this bearer of bad news, “Chichimec is now invested by six thousand savages.”
A low murmur of dismay ran through the lines. Calamity after calamity seemed to be falling on the heads of the Government. Suddenly a man