"Enough!" the count interrupted him; and drawing his watch from his pocket, he said in a peremptory tone, which admitted of no reply, and terrified the negotiators. "It is now eight o'clock. Go and tell your prefect that in two hours I shall attack the city, and at eleven shall be master of it. Begone!"
And with a gesture of supreme contempt he ordered them to retire. The unlucky envoys did not wait to hear the order repeated; they turned back at once, and regained the city with hanging heads. The count galloped up to the head of the column, where the officers were assembled slightly in advance of the ranks, impatiently awaiting the result of the conference.
"Gentlemen," the count said to them on coming up, "get ready to fight."
The news was greeted with a shout of joy, which had the effect of increasing the speed of the negotiators, in whose ears it echoed like a death knell. After this the count, with extreme simplicity and clearness, pointed out to each officer the post he must occupy during the action. He placed the whole of the cavalry under the orders of Captain de Laville; selected Don Cornelio, who had only rejoined the company on the previous evening, as his aide-de-camp; and, at Valentine's request, he placed under the latter's orders the Canadian hunters and the Indians, with authority to act as he thought proper, and in whatever way he considered most advantageous to the common welfare.
De Laville, sent forward with a dozen horsemen to reconnoitre, soon returned, announcing that the city appeared to be in a complete state of defence, that the roofs of the houses were covered with soldiers, that the tocsin was pealing from all the churches, and the drums making a frightful disturbance. At this moment a spy announced that a body of two to three hundred Indians was apparently threatening the baggage, and the count at once sent off ten men to reinforce the small garrison he had left in the rear. This final duty accomplished, he ordered the company to form a circle, and placed himself in the centre. Then he spoke in a voice trembling with emotion.
"Comrades," he said, "the hour to avenge ourselves for all the villainy practised on us during the last four months, and the atrocious calumnies spread about us, has at length struck. But let us not forget that we are Frenchmen; and if we have been patient under insults, let us he magnanimous after victory. We did not desire war; it was forced upon us, and we accept it. But remember that we are fighting for the liberty of a people, and that our enemies of today will be our brothers tomorrow. Let us be terrible during the combat, merciful after the battle. One last word, or rather a final prayer. Leave the Mexicans the responsibility of firing the first shot, so that it may be evident that up to the last moment we desired peace. Now, brothers, long live France!"
"Long live France!" the adventurers shouted as they brandished their weapons.
"Each to his post!" the count commanded.
The order was executed with marvellous precision. Don Louis drew out his watch: it was ten o'clock. Then he unsheathed his sabre, wielded it round his head, and turning to the company, every man in which had his eyes fixed on the leader, he shouted in a sonorous voice,—
"Forward!"