"This is folly!" cried Romaña, who was much agitated. "You can do nothing for them. There are not enough horses to carry them with us to the hills, even if they could ride, and they would be overtaken if they came on foot. Come, señorito, there is no time to lose."
"Don't talk: let me think," said Tim, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his head between his hands.
He was fully enlightened now. He saw what his rash act had led to. These eighty Japanese labourers were not merely mutinous "hands"; they would be regarded as rebels commanded by an acknowledged Mollendist. He was responsible for them, and he knew enough about the Prefect's temper to be sure that they would meet with no mercy at his hands. What could he do for them? As soon as Pardo reached the town and told his story there, without doubt a company of gendarmes and troopers would ride out intent on vengeance. The situation seemed desperate.
Gone was now all feeling of triumph. Tim was simply miserable. It would be useless to bring the Japanese into the house and attempt to defend it. Even if they could maintain their position for a time they could not beat off the enemy with bill-hooks against rifles, and before long hundreds more would be summoned from San Juan. And then he started up at a sudden recollection. Durand had told him that there were but a hundred of the Prefect's men in San Rosario. The others were divided between San Juan and the camp in the hills. Was it possible to lead the Japanese into the town, swoop down upon the garrison, diminished by the despatch of troopers to the hacienda, and at least arm his men? It would be a desperate adventure, one not to be undertaken in cold blood; but the men were seething with excitement and jubilant at their success; and while they were in this temper they might be capable of actions which at another time would appal them.
He jumped up and looked round for Romaña. Seeing that he was not in the room, he ran out into the patio and called for him. Romaña hurried in from the dark.
"I have two horses at the door, señorito," he said.
"Where are the Japs?" asked Tim.
"Out on the lawn. They are mad with joy. Come, señorito."
"I am going to lead them to the town," cried Tim, brushing past him and going out through the shattered door. Romaña stood for a moment paralysed with amazement, then followed Tim, who was hurrying towards the crowd. He heard him tell them what he intended to do; he heard them shout with enthusiasm; then he rushed back to the house, sprang on one of the horses, and galloped away into the darkness.
Tim explained to the men in detail, as quickly as the points occurred to him, what course he proposed to take. He would march rapidly to the town, enter by the east end, the quietest quarter, and lead them to the barracks. Only a few men were there; and if the attackers moved quietly, they might hope to surprise the garrison, seize the building, and supply themselves with arms from the armoury. He knew that some of the workers had pistols. These he sent to their huts to fetch their weapons, bidding them run all the way there and back. There was not a moment to lose; it was now a quarter of an hour since Pardo fled; by this time he was probably a third of the way to the town.