BRITISH MYSTERIES - Fergus Hume Collection: 21 Thriller Novels in One Volume. Fergus Hume

the whole of the day.

      The great banner of the Republic, only seen on special feast-days, was on this occasion brought forth from the Treasury by order of Gomez and displayed to the troops. It was truly a gorgeous flag. Composed of yellow silk, covered with featherwork, after the manner of the Aztecs, it glittered in the sunlight like a vast jewel. The sacred stone in the centre was represented by a cluster of real opals from Queretaro, and the red, green, blue, and yellow rays therefrom were composed of ruby, emerald, turquoise and topaz stones. It was the sacred ensign of Cholacaca, the palladium of the Republic, and in the estimation of the inhabitants was held to be as sacred as the holy standard of the Osmanli. When its splendours streamed in the warm air, with flash of feather and glitter of jewel, a shout arose from soldiers and civilians alike which might have been heard at Acauhtzin. With that flag waving over them the Tlatonacians could not think of anything but victory.

      “It is like the standard of Harold at the Battle of Hastings,” said Philip, looking at the splendid flag. “It is to be hoped it will not bring Gomez such bad luck.”

      “Not a bit of it, my boy,” replied Tim, who was busy with his inevitable note-book. “We’re going to be the death and glory lads this time, anyhow.”

      “You quite identify yourself with the Government, I see, Tim,” remarked Peter, who was standing by the caleza of Doña Serafina.

      “What!” shouted Tim, playfully, “have we a traitor here? Away with ye, Peter, or I’ll stick a pin in you, like one of those butterflies you’re so fond of impaling. Don’t I come of a fighting family myself.”

      “Is the Señor Correspoñsal angry?” asked Dolores of Jack, in alarm.

      “No, Señorita; he is patriotic. His nation always make a noise when they grow patriotic. Sing the ‘Wearing of the Green,’ Tim,” he added, in English.

      “By St. Patrick! ‘tis the ‘Opal Fandango’ I’ll have to learn, sir. Be quiet, Jack. The troops are marching past the saluting-point.”

      The great standard was waving over the heads of the Presidential staff, near which were the Maraquando party and their friends. Don Miguel himself was with His Excellency, mounted on a fiery steed, which he managed with the consummate ease of a practised rider. The band was playing the “March of Zuloaga,” in allusion to the hero who had founded the Republic. To its stirring strains the troops marched past, saluting Gomez and his officers as each regiment came abreast of the flag.

      The Plaza de San Jago, a vast clear space used for the parade-ground of the Cholacacan army, was quite filled with the troops, as there could not have been less than two thousand present. This was not the full power of the army, for Janjalla, Chichimec, Puebla de los Naranjos, and many of the inland towns, were garrisoned with troops. Already messages had been sent to the commandants of these outlying garrisons to march with their full strength of men to the capital, but as yet they had not arrived, and the two thousand soldiers present in the great plaza represented all the men at the immediate disposal of the Government.

      It was a splendid sight to see these soldiers marching past the saluting-point, as, with few exceptions, they were a fine body of men. The uniforms were gaudy, and somewhat fantastical, and each regiment had its special flag and appellation. There was the Regimiento de los Pajaros, whose banner, like that of the Republic, was composed of humming-bird’s feathers; the Regimiento de Zuloaga, who marched under the pictured face of the founder of Cholacaca; the Regimiento de Fray Medina, bearing the pennant of the Church, embroidered with the cathedral of which that monk was the builder; and many others, all looking ready and fit for work in the field. The eyes of the President flashed with enthusiasm as file after file of men ranged past and the inspiriting music of the “Zuloaga March” added not a little to the patriotism of his feelings.

      “Xuarez is already conquered,” he said to Maraquando, who rode beside him. “He can oppose no troops to ours.”

      “With the exception of the Regimiento de Huitzilopochtli, which is at present at Acauhtzin and has doubtless embraced his cause.”

      “True, Señor, and he also will stir up the Indians!”

      “I do not care for the Indians,” replied Maraquando, quietly, “they cannot stand against troops armed as ours. If he attacks Tlatonac by land he will be beaten, but Xuarez is too crafty to venture so rashly. He has the fleet, and will blockade the city.”

      “Let him do so,” retorted Gomez, in a fiery tone; “we do not depend on foreign countries for our food. He cannot starve us out.”

      “True enough; but while he has the fleet he can prolong the war to an indefinite period. Unless we can march our troops to Acauhtzin, and crush him at his head-quarters, there is no way of bringing the rebellion to a conclusion.”

      “And we have no ships! Carambo! It is unfortunate. But no matter. The Republic is rich; she has money! We will send for ships of war, for guns, for engineers, and sooner or later will invest Acauhtzin. Then Xuarez will meet with the fate he deserves.”

      At this moment the crack cavalry regiment of Cholacaca passed proudly by, with waving plumes and prancing horses. Deprived of his ship by Xuarez, Don Rafael had asked for and obtained a commission in this corps, and was now riding at the head of his men with his brother officers. Accustomed from childhood, like all American Spaniards, to horses, he had no difficulty in exchanging the deck for the saddle, and looked a gallant figure as he dashed past on his fiery mustang.

      “Egad, Jack, we must enlist also, like Don Rafael,” said Philip, gaily, as they saw the young man gallop past. “Doña Dolores,” he added, turning to her, “we are going to become soldiers.”

      “In the Regimiento de las Señoritas!” exclaimed Doña Eulalia, clapping her hands.

      “What, señorita! A regiment of women?”

      “Oh no!” interposed Doña Serafina, with a fascinating smile; “it is a corps raised in the last war by the ladies of Tlatonac. See! here come the valiant ones.”

      “Foot soldiers!” said Jack, in disgust, as the regiment filed past; “no, Doña Serafina. Nothing less than a cavalry corps will suit us.”

      “But can Don Pedro ride, Señor?”

      “What’s that about me?” asked Peter, overhearing his name.

      “Doña Serafina wants you to enlist,” explained Philip, maliciously.

      “No,” replied Peter, firmly; “I will physic the soldiers, and cut off their legs and arms; but I am a man of peace, and I will not enlist.”

      “You little duffer!” said Tim, reverting to his school-boy phraseology, “we’ll make you doctor of the regiment. I’d like to enlist myself, but the editor would never hear of such a thing. It’s my walking ticket I’d be getting if I did.”

      “Well, Philip and myself shall enlist,” observed Jack, brightly. “You, Peter, shall attend to us when we are wounded, and Tim shall cover us with glory in the columns of The Morning Planet. He shall be the bard to celebrate our deeds.”

      This scheme was explained to the ladies and found much favour in their sight. In fact, the whole female population of Tlatonac was seized with a violent attack of “scarlet fever,” and no one who was not a soldier found any favour in their eyes.

      “You will be as valiant as the Cid,” said Dolores, looking tenderly at Jack from behind her black fan.

      “With you to smile on me, I can scarcely be a coward,” he replied, in a low tone so as not to reach the vigilant ears of the duenna. “I will ask His Excellency for a commission in your cousin’s regiment.”

      “And you also, Don Felipe,” said Eulalia, vivaciously. “El Regimiento del Caballeros is the finest in the army. You would look so well in the uniform.” She flashed a bewitching look at Philip, which sent that young man’s blood spinning through his veins. He had quite given up fighting against his fate, and was fathoms deep in love. Doña Eulalia