They were thus seated in silence, with their eyes wandering over the dark blue surface of the water, when all at once the manatee was heard to plunge under the waves, uttering a melancholy cry as it went down. Just then the loud booming of a cannon drowned the voice of the amphibious creature.
“The castle is taken!” cried Lantejas.
“No,” replied Costal, “on the contrary, Pepe Gago has betrayed us. I fear our General has been tricked.”
Several discharges of cannon followed on the instant, confirming Costal’s surmise; and the two men, hastening to leave their dangerous post by the bridge of Hornos, retreated towards a narrow defile called the Ojo de Agua. There they saw the Mexican detachment scattered, and in full retreat towards their encampment. A man standing in the middle of the path was trying to intercept their flight.
“Cowards!” cried he, “will you pass over the body of your general?”
Many halted, and, returning, made an attack upon the works of the citadel. But it was to no purpose: the gate was too well defended; and a discharge of grape had the effect not only of terrifying the assailants, but also killed several of their number.
Morelos now saw that he had been betrayed, and caused the retreat to be sounded. It was the first check he had experienced during a victorious career of months.
The day had not yet dawned, when two men were seen advancing from the direction of the insurgent camp toward the bridge of Los Hornos. One of these men was Costal, but this time he was accompanied by Clara the negro. The resin candle still burned within the lantern, but giving out a more feeble light, as the first streaks of day began to succeed to the darkness of night.
“You see that lantern, Clara?” said Costal, pointing out the glimmering light to his companion. “You know what it was hung there for: since I have just told you. But you haven’t yet heard the vow I have taken against the traitor who has so played with us. I shall tell you now.”