Chapter IV.

       Exit Don Francisco Gomez

       Table of Contents

      Depart, incapable!

       You are no pilot to be at the helm when the ship is in danger;

       The vessel of state labours in the turmoil of troublous waters,

       Rocks this side, that side, she is drifting to leeward, shoals threaten her stout timbers.

       Round her rage the tempests which would sink her in waves of blood;

       Only a skilful captain can pilot her into a safe haven.

       You are not a skilful commander!

       In fair weather you guided the ship in a meritorious fashion;

       Now, when blow rebellious storms, you are not fit for the steering; the danger renders you helpless—a child were a better helmsman;

       No longer can you hold the ship of Republican fortunes in her right course.

       Captain! President! you are Captain—President no longer!

       Depart! give way to one who can steer with clear head and keen eye.

       Depart, incapable!

      “Dear one!” cried Dolores, as Jack embraced her, in the patio. “At last do I see you once more. Santissima! how pale! What ragged clothes! and beards on all your faces.”

      “Indeed, Dolores, a siege is not conducive to luxury. But we will go to my house; bath, shave, and dress. When we return, you will behold us as civilised beings.”

      “You are wounded!”

      “It is nothing—a mere scratch. How delighted I am to see your dear face once more, my Dolores.”

      Eulalia put out her hand timidly under the shelter of her fan, and touched Philip gently on the hand. She was unable to do more, as Doña Serafina, severe, and vigilant, was present. Their engagement had not yet been made public.

      “Querido,” she murmured, looking at her lover tenderly. “Constantly have I prayed for thee.”

      Philip kissed her hand, and then that of Doña Serafina, to avert suspicion. The old lady was voluble, and after the first greetings were over, burst forth into speech with much dramatic gesture.

      “Alas, señores! How sad look you all. Don Pedro! Pobrecito! And the city is in the hands of the rebels. Ay di mi! Ah, the evil ones! Yet, if they win on land, they lose at sea.”

      “What is it you say, Señora?” asked Tim, ever on the alert for news.

      “Have you not heard, Señor Correspoñsal? No; you have been away. Gracios á Dios! The torpederas have captured The Columbus.”

      “Bravo!” cried Jack, delightedly; “this is indeed good news! And Rafael?”

      “Rafael is here,” said that young man, hastily entering the court. “Ah, my dear friends, how delighted I am to behold you.”

      “Even though we bring bad news?”

      “Yes; for I can tell you good. We followed The Columbus, and by threatening to sink her with torpedoes, forced her to strike her flag. Now she is lying in the harbour, with a crew of our own men. Her rebel sailors are all in prison.”

      “What about The Iturbide?”

      “She is there also, but in a crippled condition. One of her masts was shot away by The Columbus before she surrendered.”

      “And what do you do now?”

      “Sail south to-morrow at dawn.”

      “Alas!” said Jack, sadly, “you will be too late to relieve Janjalla.”

      “Never mind,” replied Rafael, hopefully; “we shall capture or sink The Cortes, and bring her back to Tlatonac with the transports. Then Don Hypolito will be irrevocably cut off from Acauhtzin.”

      “That does not matter to him,” interposed Philip, overhearing this remark; “he has most of his troops at Janjalla, and will simply hold the south instead of the north.”

      “At all events, Señor Felipe, we have crushed him by sea.”

      “It will be a more difficult task to crush him by land, especially as Don Francisco is so dilatory.”

      “Don Francisco! Don Francisco!” cried Rafael, stamping his foot with rage. “He is not fit to be President. Through him have we lost Janjalla. Even my father, who was his firm supporter, has turned against him.”

      “What do you say, Rafael?”

      “I cannot tell you yet; but there will be a stormy meeting of the Junta to-morrow.”

      “You are going to depose Don Francisco.”

      “It’s not improbable.”

      “More trouble,” said Tim, reflectively. “There will be three Presidents shortly. Don Francisco, Don Hypolito, and—Don Miguel!”

      “No more, mi amigo,” said Rafael, doubtful even in his own house. “It is dangerous to speak like that—as yet.”

      He added the last words significantly, and turned away. Jack was saying good night to Dolores, as he was quite worn out, and wanted to get back to his own house for a good night’s rest.

      “Dolores,” he whispered, as he held her hand; “you have yet the opal?”

      “Yes; surely.”

      “Can you bear to part with it for the sake of the city?”

      “You can do with it as you please, Juanito. But, what mean these words?”

      “I have a plan whereby I can detach the Indians from the cause of Don Hypolito, and thus weaken his army. But the carrying out of the plan may entail the loss of the opal.”

      “Let it go, so that it save Tlatonac,” replied Dolores, heroically, though, woman-like, she loved the jewel. “What is your plan?”

      “I must see Cocom about it first. Then I will tell you my secret; but now we must go. Adios, querida.”

      When the four friends left the Casa Maraquando, they were surprised to find themselves followed by Maraquando and his son. On reaching Jack’s house, Don Miguel begged the Englishman to give him a few moments’ conversation, and explained how matters stood at Tlatonac.

      It appeared that Maraquando’s party were disgusted at the way in which the war was being conducted by Don Francisco, and wanted him to resign the Presidential chair. This Gomez was unwilling to do, and as he had yet many supporters, it was doubtful if they could force him into such a course. Now, however, that the news of the fall of Janjalla, the sack of Puebla de los Naranjos, and the investment of Chichimec had arrived, Don Miguel thought that he would be able to show plainly that the continuance of Don Francisco as President meant ruin to the Government.

      The next day there was to be a meeting of the Junta, and Maraquando, explaining his designs to Jack, asked him for a full report of all that had taken place in the south, so as to plainly prove the incapacity of the President in conducting the war. The four friends thoroughly agreed with Maraquando’s view of the matter, and told him all that he wished to know, after which they retired to rest. Don Miguel, on the contrary, went back with Rafael to his own