Tim wished that he had had the forethought to send a man to cut the telegraph wire. That would have gained five hours at the least. But he could not think of everything; he was as yet a novice in things military; and he had had no one with whom to take counsel. He reflected bitterly on Romaña's desertion. Romaña was not a soldier; but he was twice Tim's age; he had had some experience with the Mollendists, and was shrewd and far-seeing. Tim was surprised and angry to find that the man was apparently a coward.
Thrown upon his sole resources, Tim tried to think of some means of meeting the threatening dangers. His case would be hopeless as soon as the Prefect arrived with his main body of troops, unless--Tim grasped eagerly at an idea that had flashed upon him. If he could send a message to his father, the Mollendists, though ill-equipped and weak in numbers, might push down from the hills by way of the river bed and reach San Rosario in time to give him help. But they were twenty miles beyond the Inca camp, and could not arrive before the Prefect unless the approach of the force from San Juan could be hindered. That was not impossible. A few men posted on the hill road just above the place where the Mollendists had snapped up the gobernador could hold in check a much larger number in the darkness, and gain a few precious hours. Tim resolved to attempt both--to despatch a messenger to his father, and a little band to the defile on the high road to San Juan.
He had just risen from his seat in the guardroom to select men for these tasks when there was a commotion below--a shout of alarm, followed by a moment's silence, then a cheer. He looked over the balcony, and saw Romaña pushing his way from the patio through the crowd of Japanese and Cholos to the foot of the staircase.
"You are safe, señorito?" Romaña called, seeing Tim looking down at him.
Tim did not reply: he felt hurt and indignant.
"You come when the fight is over," he said, when Romaña joined him. "I thought I could trust you."
"Caramba, señorito, what do you mean?" cried Romaña, his usual forbearance giving way under a rush of hot blood. "Do you take me for a coward? I have saved you from making a thorough mess of your own hasty scheme. You did not think of the telegraph wire: I did. That is all."
"You have cut it?"
"Yes. I galloped straight to the road. I hope I cut the wire before Pardo reached the town."
"Forgive me, Nicolas," said Tim penitently, grasping his hand. "I am an ass. I ought to have known you had not deserted me."