Part 30 (1/2)
And without awaiting a reply from any one, the Marshal took the cigar from his lips, and held the burning end of it to the fuse of one of the rockets.
The piece of hemp became kindled at the touch, and the moment after the rocket rose hissing into the air, and described a circle of vivid red against the grey background of the sky. A second rocket was sent up, which traced an ellipse of white light; and then a third, whose reflection was a brilliant green.
”Red, white, and green!” cried Galeana, ”our national colour. It is the signal I agreed upon with our General, to announce to him the capture of the isle. Our comrades in the Mexican camp have by this time seen the signal. They believe we have triumphed, and we must not deceive them.
Forward to victory!”
On issuing the command, Galeana bounded lightly forward and placed himself at the head of his men; and the whole troop, guided by Costal, advanced at a rapid pace towards the enemy.
As they approached the fort, cries of distress were heard in that direction, which at first filled the a.s.sailants with surprise. The cause, however, was soon apparent. The cries came not from the fort, but from the schooner, which was now seen through an opening between the trees struggling against the storm, and fast drifting among breakers! A row of jagged rocks stretched along to leeward; and from driving upon these rocks, the sailors aboard of her were vainly endeavouring to restrain the ill-fated vessel.
The latter, during the violence of the wind, had dragged her anchors, and was now fast hastening to destruction.
”_Jesus Maria_!” exclaimed Galeana at the sight. ”Comrades, what a pity! She will undoubtedly be lost, and I had counted upon this magnificent bounty. _Carrambo_! we shall get nothing but a wreck.”
The dangerous situation of the schooner was of course known in the fort, where it had already created considerable confusion. This was now changed into consternation by the approach of the insurgents; and the wild war-cry of Galeana, as he sprang forward to the walls, echoed by his followers, and accompanied as it was by loud peals of thunder, produced something like a panic among the ranks of the Spanish garrison.
So sudden was the attack, and so completely unexpected, that it could scarcely fail of success; and indeed, after a short hand-to-hand combat, one portion of the garrison fled, while the other surrendered without conditions to the triumphant Galeana.
Scarcely had the last shot been fired, and the fort delivered up to the victors, when the schooner, striking violently upon a sharp reef, leant over to one side, and, like a steed gored by the horns of the bull, the sides of the vessel were opened, and she began to sink among the foaming waves. The victors on sh.o.r.e thought no more of enemies, but now bent all their energies towards saving the unfortunate mariners, whose lives were thus placed in peril. By means of lazoes flung from the beach, most of the latter were rescued from the death that threatened them.
The sun soon after cast his yellow beams over the agitated bosom of the ocean, but his rising had no effect in calming the tempest. The storm continued to rage as furiously as ever.
Just as the last of the s.h.i.+pwrecked sailors had been got safely on sh.o.r.e, a flag running up to the signal-staff of the fort announced that a new sail was seen in the offing. In a few minutes after a vessel was perceived in the roadstead of the bay, struggling against the storm, and endeavouring to stand outward to sea.
This intention the adverse winds seemed trying to prevent; and driven by these out of her course, the strange s.h.i.+p pa.s.sed so near the isle of Roqueta that those in the fort could see the people on board, and even distinguish the uniforms and faces of the officers upon the quarterdeck.
It was evident that the vessel thus coasting past Acapulco was a man-of-war; and the uniforms of the officers aboard of her could plainly be distinguished as that of the Spanish navy. One was dressed somewhat differently from the rest. His costume was military, not naval. It was that of an officer of dragoons. Costal, Clara, and Captain Lantejas were standing on the parapet of the fort, observing the manoeuvres of the strange s.h.i.+p, when the keen eyes of the Indian became fixed on this officer.
He was a man in the full vigour of youth and strength--as was testified by his erect and graceful figure, and by the rich ma.s.ses of dark hair that cl.u.s.tered under his laced cap; but an air of profound melancholy seemed resting upon his features, and it was evident that some secret care was occupying his thoughts far more than the storm or its dangers!
”Do you recognise the officer, yonder?” inquired Costal pointing him out to Clara and Don Cornelio.
”No,” replied Lantejas, ”I don't remember ever having seen him before.”
”He is the same,” rejoined Costal, ”whom we three formerly knew as a captain of the Queen's dragoons--Don Rafael Tres-Villas. He is now _Colonel_ Tres-Villas.”
”_Por Dios_!” interposed a soldier who was standing near, and who had come from the state of Oajaca. ”Colonel Tres-Villas! That is he who nailed the head of Antonio Valdez to the gate of his hacienda!”
”The same,” a.s.sented Costal.
”_Carrambo_!” cried another soldier, ”that is the officer who, after capturing the town of Aguas Calientes, caused the hair to be cropped from the heads of three hundred women who were his prisoners!”
”It is said that he had his reasons for doing so,” muttered Costal, in reply.
”Whether or no,” said the soldier, ”if he comes this way, he'll get punished for it.”
Just as the soldier spoke, the s.h.i.+p became enveloped in a ma.s.s of fog-- at that moment spreading over the water--and was lost to the view of the people on the isle. When she became visible again, it was seen that she was standing out to sea. By a favourable turn which the wind had taken, she was enabled to gain the offing, and was soon receding from view upon the distant horizon.
Costal was correct in his identification. The officer thus accidentally seen, and who was a pa.s.senger on board the man-of-war, was indeed Don Rafael Tres-Villas, who from one of the northern ports was now on his return to Oajaca, bearing with him to the sh.o.r.es of Tehuantepec a profound and incurable melancholy.