Don Jaime remained with the general till the hour for departure. At nightfall, the troops began defiling on the plaza, surrounded by the people, who shouted lustily. When all the troops had passed, the general left the palace, in his turn, with his staff. A large squadron of cavalry was drawn up in the plaza.
"Whose are those horsemen?" the general asked.
"My cuadrilla," don Jaime answered with a bow.
These horsemen, wrapped in long heavy cloaks, and wearing broad brimmed hats, only allowed the end of their beard to be seen. It was in vain that the President examined them, trying to distinguish their faces.
"You cannot recognize them," don Jaime said to him, in a low voice, "the beards are false, their dress is in itself a disguise; but, believe me, they will not fight the less bravely in action."
"I am persuaded of that, and thank you."
They set out. Don Jaime raised his sword, the horsemen wheeled and stationed themselves as a rear guard, they were three hundred in number. Differing from the Mexican cavalry, whose favourite weapon is the lance, they were armed with a carbine, the straight sabre of the French chasseur d'Afrique, and pistols in their holsters. At midnight the troops camped, orders were given not to light any bivouac fires. At about three in the morning a scout arrived. He was at once conducted to the President.
"Ah, ah! It is you, López?" the general said, on recognizing him.
"Yes, General," López replied, with a smile to don Jaime, who was seating by the President's side negligently smoking a cigarette.
"What news? Have you heard anything about the enemy?" Miramón asked.