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

cried those in the hall. “War! Viva Xuarez!”

      Don Alonzo tore the message of the Republic in twain, and cast the pieces at the foot of the dais whereon Xuarez was seated.

      “So be it!” he cried, turning his back, “War!”

      “Hold!” said Xuarez, in a voice of thunder. “You came, Señores, under the protection of the English flag. You go with the opal banner flying at your masthead. Such a precaution was useless. I am not a barbarian to fire on a flag of truce; but you—you, Señores, are cowards to thus distrust an honourable foe.”

      Before the Intendante could speak, Philip sprang forward, and faced the speaker.

      “The fault, Señor, if fault it be, is mine. The vessel in which we came is English, and, therefore, flies the English flag. In the port, I hoisted the opal banner, to show that these gentlemen were on board, and had come on a mission from the Junta.”

      “An excellent explanation!” sneered Hypolito, frowning; “but untrue!”

      “Señor!”

      “Untrue, I say! You thought I would fire on your ship! You looked on me as a barbaric foe! You mistrusted me!”

      “And who would not?” said Jack’s deep voice savagely, “who would not mistrust one who makes war on women?”

      “Be quiet, Jack.”

      “I do not understand you, Señor Duval,” said Xuarez, who knew the young engineer quite well. “Explain!”

      “Doña Dolores, the niece of Don Miguel Maraquando, has been kidnapped from Tlatonac! I accuse you of carrying her off.”

      “I deny it, Señor! It is false,” cried the rebel leader, a flush reddening the marble whiteness of his face. “Doña Dolores is not in Acauhtzin.”

      “She may not be here, Señor, but you know where she is!”

      “I do not, Señor! You have no proof of what you say.”

      “Pepe, the zambo, a spy in your pay, carried off a woman from Tlatonac,” cried Rafael, stepping forward. “That woman was my cousin, Dolores.”

      Xuarez started, and spoke rapidly to one of his officers, who thereupon left the room.

      “Ah! you know much, Señor,” he resumed, scornfully; “but you are wrong; the zambo was my spy——”

      “Carambo!”

      “I repeat he was my spy in Tlatonac,” said Xuarez, coolly; “and he left the city with a plan of your fortifications.”

      “Por todos Santos,” roared Garibay, fiercely, clapping his hand on his sword.

      “Call on whom you like, Señor Commandante! I have no reason to hide this from you or from the Junta, else would I have kept silent. I know when to hold my tongue, Señores; I know when to speak! I speak now! Go back and tell your President that I have a full plan of Tlatonac in my possession, and that I will use it to take your city, and level its walls to the ground.”

      “If you can do so!” said Garibay, tauntingly.

      “If I can do so. As you say,” replied Xuarez, suddenly recognising that this controversy was unworthy of his rank; “we need say no more on that subject. Ha!” he added, as the officers, with a man and a woman, entered the hall, “here is Pepe! and here, Señores, is the woman he carried off.”

      The woman threw back her rebozo.

      “Marina!” cried Jack, in despair.

      “You see, Señores,” said Don Hypolito, serenely, “I am not the base one you think me to be.”

      “I’m not so sure of that,” muttered Tim, under his breath.

      “But this, Señores, is outside the question. You came to me with a message from the Junta. I have answered that message. Go! Go, and carry back to Tlatonac my defiance and that of Acauhtzin. Sail away under your opal flag, caballeros, and I promise you my guns will respect your vessel. Adios. Go!”

      He pointed imperiously down the hall to where the great doors stood wide open, and, headed by Don Alonzo, the deputation retired. Rafael was biting his lips with rage, and Garibay was swearing under his breath. The exit was scarcely dignified or worthy of the greatness of the Republic.

      “I never felt so mean in my life,” whispered Philip to Tim. “What a beast the man is!”

      “And you said he was a great man!”

      “So he is. But even great men are human. Xuarez is not perfect; but I believe he is honourable as regards rules of warfare. We can leave the harbour in safety.”

      “I doubt that, my boy,” said Tim, significantly; “the man’s a liar!”

      “What!” said Jack, overhearing this; “do you think that Dolores——?”

      “I think that he knows where she is.”

      “Then I’ll stay here till he gives her up.”

      “You’ll stay here a long time, then. She is not in Acauhtzin.”

      “Then where is she?”

      “It’s more nor I know.”

      They were marching down the street on their way to the sea-gate, surrounded by their own soldiers and a troop of the Regimiento de Huitzilopochtli. Around this living barrier raged the populace, who had heard of the message sent by the Republic, demanding the surrender of Xuarez, and were mad with anger. To give up the idol of their hearts—the man on whom the glorious future of Acauhtzin depended! It was an insult! If they could have got at the emissaries, they would have torn them to pieces; but, fortunately, the line of soldiers prevented this. Don Alonzo was pale with terror, but Rafael and Garibay swore loudly at the rebel crowd. The three Englishmen smiled scornfully and marched serenely along, not heeding the savage howling of the mob, which recognised them as foreigners.

      “Abajo los Americanos! Mueran los Yankies!”

      “We would have rather a hard time out there,” said Philip, as Tim, his huge frame shaking with anger, ranged alongside of him. “Keep together boys. Where’s Jack?”

      “Behind, with Don Rafael. Don’t trouble, Philip; Jack Duval has his six-shooter on him.”

      “Good! I hope I am not a coward,” said the baronet, serenely, as a clod of earth hit him on the shoulder; “but I will be glad when we are safe on board The Bohemian.”

      “So will I. This is like Donnybrook Fair. But we’re nearly outside the town. Glory be to the saints!”

      As they approached the gate, the fury of the mob increased, and it took all the strength of the soldiers, tramping shoulder to shoulder, to prevent them breaking through and falling on the emissaries of the Junta. At the gate, however, a soldier stumbled and fell, whereon, through the gap thus formed, a torrent of men rushed, shouting wildly. The escort fought bravely, and the rebel soldiers did their best to save the ambassadors. It would be a disgrace to Acauhtzin to let the mob have their will.

      Inch by inch they fought their way down to the sea-shore, surrounded by the howling multitude. Philip knocked down a man who tried to snatch his watch-chain, and Tim, head and shoulders above the torrent of humanity, whacked every head he saw heartily with his heavy stick. “When you see a head, hit it.” That was Tim’s rule of warfare. He picked it up at Donnybrook Fair, and applied it practically in his present predicament.

      At the water’s edge they were hurried into several boats, and amid a shower of stones and mud, managed to get on board the yacht. As soon as all were on deck, Benker, without waiting for instructions, started the boat. Philip stood at the side of the ship and shook his fist at the shore.

      “You scoundrels!” he raged, fiercely. “You dishonourable