"Do not be rash, Excelencia. It is as well to know all these dogs have to say. See! they are lowering a boat."
This was indeed the case. A quarter of a mile from the shore, The Pizarro cast anchor, fired three guns with blank cartridge, and then the boat already lowered was seen pulling straight for the wharf.
"Bueno! Señor Correspoñsal," said Gormez, sorely against his will; "let it be as you say. We will wait here for their leader. But I am sorely tempted to order the forts to open fire on that boat."
"A mistake, Excelencia," interposed Maraquando at this moment; "we are civilised people, and must observe the rules of war. Besides," he added significantly, letting his eyes rest on Tim, "have we not here the Correspoñsal? and all we do he will write off to England."
"Bueno!" said the President again; "we will wait."
The thunder of the cannon had brought a tremendous crowd to the walls, and down on to the beach. From the Presidential staff up to the gate, was one black mass of people, heaving with excitement. All kinds of rumours were flying from lip to lip. The Pizarro had come to bombard the town, and her consorts were now on their way for the same purpose. The vessel had returned to its allegiance, and had brought Xuarez to Tlatonac for punishment. All were disturbed, startled, puzzled, and watched with lynx eyes the little boat with the white flag at its stern now drawing steadily near to the wharf.
"What's up now, Tim?" asked Philip, pushing his way through the crowd.
"A message from Don Hypolito, no less," replied Fletcher, without turning round. "See! he is standing up in the boat. Be Jove! it's a priest."
"It must be Padre Ignatius," cried Jack, who had a remarkably keen sight. "He went up to Acauhtzin, on some Church business, a week or so ago. Shovel-hat, white hair! Carambo! It is Padre Ignatius!"
The name of the priest speedily became known, and the crowd cheered, for the Padre was well known in Tlatonac. Gomez swore.