Presently a servant entered, and reported what was being said in the town. A wild and exaggerated rumour had spread that the Mollendists had swooped in vast numbers on Mr. O'Hagan's hacienda; the Prefect's troops had been sent to drive them out.
"Young Tim did not tell me that anything of that sort was in contemplation," said Durand.
"It is a mad proceeding," said the doctor. "By all accounts the Mollendists are a very small party, and badly provided. I am surprised at O'Hagan."
"Perhaps it is a move of Tim's," suggested Durand. "He's mad enough for anything at times."
"That boy has as many lives as a cat. It's a marvel that he hasn't broken his neck long before this."
"He was just the same at school. If he fell from a tree he never seemed to hurt himself. I remember once at rugger--a sort of football, you know--he had a terrible collision with a forward twice his size, and we thought he was killed for a certainty. But he got up after a minute and rubbed his shins and chaffed the other fellow about his fat. 'Soft as a cushion,' he said, 'lucky for me.'"
They sat smoking and talking until a renewed uproar drew them again to the window. There they watched what ensued upon Tim's capture of the barracks. They came to the conclusion, surprising as it was, that the Mollendists had attacked in force. The rumours brought from below stairs magnified every detail. The numbers of the assailants were greatly multiplied; Dr. Pereira was inclined to believe that Mr. O'Hagan, of whose exploits in the Chilian war he knew, had himself organised a dashing descent on the town. It was only later, when Tim led the charge into the plaza, that the two onlookers had an inkling of the truth.
"It's Tim after all, the young demon!" exclaimed Durand.
"But he must be backed up," said the doctor. "He would never attempt such a foolhardy exploit unless he could rely on support from his father."
"You don't know Tim so well as I do, señor," said Durand.