“Now, will you believe me?” Aiken shouted. “That’s their plot. They’re working together. They mean to trap us on every side. Ah!” he cried. “Look!”
I knew the thing at which he wished me to look. His voice and my dread told me at what his arm was pointing.
I raised my eyes fearfully to El Pecachua. From its green crest a puff of smoke was swelling into a white cloud, the cloud was split with a flash of flame, and the dull echo of the report drifted toward us on the hot, motionless air. At the same instant our flag on the crest of Pecachua, the flag with the five-pointed, blood-red star, came twitching down; and a shell screeched and broke above us.
Now that he knew the worst, the doubt and concern on the face of General Laguerre fell from it like a mask.
“We have no guns that will reach the mountain, have we?” he asked. He spoke as calmly as though we were changing guard.
“No, not one,” I answered. “All our heavy pieces are on Pecachua.”
“Then we must take it by assault,” he said. “We will first drive Garcia back, and then we will storm the hill, or starve them out. Assemble all the men at the palace at once. Trust to no one but yourself. Ride to every outpost and order them here. Send Von Ritter and the gatlings to meet Alvarez. This man will act as his guide.”
He turned to the scout. “You will find my horse in the court-yard of the palace,” he said to him. “Take it, and accompany Captain Macklin. Tell Von Ritter,” he continued, turning to me, “not to expose his men, but to harass the enemy, and hold him until I come.” His tone was easy, confident, and assured. Even as I listened to his command I marvelled at the rapidity with which his mind worked, how he rose to an unexpected situation, and met unforeseen difficulties.
“That is all,” he said. “I will expect the men here in half an hour.”
He turned from me calmly. As he re-entered the palace between the lines of the guard he saluted as punctiliously as though he were on his way to luncheon.