“Let him go,” he answered. “He will do more harm to liberty inside the town than he will do without; and we cannot imprison him. If he comes as an enemy, a bullet may put a stop to his intrigues.”
I frequently met Dona Dolores on the parade-ground, riding a handsome horse, and attended by her father, Juan, and others. She on several occasions addressed the men, especially the new recruits, and urged them to be faithful to the noble cause in which they were engaged. She also occupied herself in writing to Patriots in various parts of the country, or to persons whom she hoped to win over.
While the citizens were working away in the town, scouts were sent out, that we might have early notice of the approach of the enemy. Several days elapsed, however, without any news of their approach, and this afforded time for fortifying the city and increasing the number of its defenders. So confident did the Patriots at length become, that it was proposed to march out and encounter the enemy in the open country; but wiser counsels prevailed. Our men were ill-disciplined, and we had no field-artillery.
Upwards of a week had passed, when the scouts brought in the information that the Spaniards were advancing. Still two or three days must elapse before they could reach Popayan. The interval was spent in strengthening the fortifications, and otherwise preparing for the defence of the city. Provisions were brought in, and gunpowder and shot manufactured, while the drilling of the men went on as energetically as at first. White men, Indians, and blacks, all seemed to take a real pleasure in their duties. The army was certainly a motley one, both in costume and colour, composed as it was of men of every shade from white to black—the dark, however, predominating; several of the officers were black, and others had Indian blood in their veins, if they were not pure Indians. Where all fight for liberty, however, the only qualifications required for command are talent and courage. Not a few even of the highest rank could neither read nor write.
My father, I may here say, had half consented that I should join Don Juan’s troop, and had given leave to Mr Laffan to act as he felt inclined.
The enemy had now got within three leagues of the city. Some deserters who came in—or rather, I should say, some Liberals who had made their escape from the Royalist ranks—informed us that they were not at all prepared for the resistance they would meet with, as they were not aware that the city was so strongly fortified and garrisoned.
Each night we went to bed expecting that the next day might be that of battle; but I was one morning awakened by hearing all the bells in the city ringing. I jumped up, and going to Mr Laffan’s room, found him dressed, and in the act of buckling on his sword—afterwards sticking a brace of pistols in his belt.
“I intend to join Don Juan,” he said; “if I fall, Duncan, you will not forget the instruction I have given you. Good-bye, my boy; do you stay quietly at home.”
“Not if I can help it,” I answered. “Wait but five minutes. My father will not refuse me permission to assist in defending the walls.”
I was quickly ready, and came downstairs to find my father.