"Wot! fightin'?" said the sailor man to me
(He was wooden-legged and close on eighty-three).
"Why, bless 'ee, sir, who knows what fightin' are,
When iron pots is classed as men-of-war,
And kittles sail the sea without a spar?
Such wessels were not seen at Trafalgar."

"Old Nelson!" said the sailor man to me
(He was lying like a hatter, I could see).
"I was with him when the Frenchies' line we broke,
With our wooden ships and sailors' hearts of oak,
And the great three-decker's cannon's voice awoke,
Every minute as they thundered thro' the smoke."

"Oh, blow it!" said the sailor man to me
(His language, I admit, was rather free),
"Now you sends a black torpedo, and it seeks
To hit a wessel sideways – then she leaks,
And sinks while every sailor prays and shrieks,
Wot fightin' – why, it's murder! yah! the sneaks."

On leaving Cocom, Jack at once went to Don Miguel and informed him of the Indian rising. Maraquando thought but little of the affair, as it was unlikely unarmed savages would dare to attack a force of one thousand soldiers. Besides, the journey to Janjalla was through a civilised and cultivated country, and an Indian raid was improbable. Nevertheless, at Jack's urgent request, he spoke to President Gomez about the matter, and though his Excellency took the same view as did Maraquando, yet he sent on messengers to overtake the reinforcements and inform them of their possible danger.

The next day at three o'clock the vessels were to leave for Janjalla, but when the hour came it was found that the torpederas were far from ready. It is true The Iturbide was in a state of efficiency, and could have left Tlatonac at the appointed time, but the complicated engines of The Montezuma and The Zuloaga were somewhat out of gear. Though the engineers worked day and night to get everything in order, yet it was not until three days had elapsed that the squadron was ready to start. This delay made Rafael feel very uneasy lest the consorts of The Pizarro should return south before they could sink her by the torpedoes. He reckoned out the matter with Jack.

"Dios, mi amigo! Three days have gone since The Cortes and The Columbus passed Tlatonac with the transports to the north. It is three hundred miles to Acauhtzin, and those boats steam at the rate of twelve knots an hour – "

"True," interrupted Jack, significantly; "but the transports do not."

"That is so, Juan. Let us reckon accordingly. Steaming at the rate of twelve knots, the war-ships would probably reach Acauhtzin in twenty-five hours. Allowing for the slowness of the transports say thirty hours. In twenty-four hours they will be able to take in troops, provisions, horses and guns. That makes fifty-four hours. Steaming south to Tlatonac thirty hours. Eighty-four hours. To Janjalla from here it is a hundred miles – say twelve hours. In all ninety-six hours. Divide by twenty-four, that is exactly four days."

"At that rate, the rebel ships cannot possibly reach Janjalla before to-morrow midnight. When do we leave here?"

"About three o'clock," said Rafael, glancing at his watch. "The torpederas can knock out eighteen knots, but the full speed of The Iturbide is fifteen. We will reckon at that, so by leaving here at three can reach Janjalla long before midnight."

"Bueno! We shall have a clear twenty-four hours in which to sink The Pizarro."

"Twelve," contradicted Rafael, captiously, "we must attack in the darkness. The less risk the better."

"I don't see that it makes much difference," retorted Jack, grimly, "if The Pizarro can fight two torpedo boats and an armed cruiser she is a mighty clever ship. I look upon The Pizarro as lost."

"So do I, Juan," replied Rafael, with a sad expression flitting across his face, "she was my ship, you know. I am sorry that it falls to my lot to sink her."

"Perhaps she will surrender."

"Not while she is commanded by De Galvez. He was my first lieutenant, and is as obstinate as the devil. Dios! There is noon. We have not much time in which to make our adieux. Go up and see Dolores, mi amigo, but return by two o'clock."

Jack gladly took advantage of the permission and had a long interview with Dolores, who wept bitterly at the idea of parting with him again. She was already low-spirited, through having comforted Eulalia, and now that her own lover was going away broke down entirely.

"Promise me you will take the greatest care of yourself, querido."

"My dearest, I will ask Rafael to wrap me in cotton wool. But, indeed, cara, you need not fear. I will be as safe on board The Montezuma as in Tlatonac."

"But you will be gone many days."

"A week at the most. If we succeed in sinking The Pizarro we will steam north to meet the other war-ships, and try our luck with them."

"I will pray for you, Juanito, and I will look after the beetles of Don Pedro."

Jack burst out laughing at the incongruity of such coupling.

"Has Don Pedro asked you to look after that rubbish!"

"Yes, Juanito! I am to take the very greatest care. They are precious."

"In the doctor's eyes they are more precious than the opal. By the way, where is Peter?"

"He has said farewell, and departed with my uncle. Would I could come down to the boat, querido. But I dare not."

"I never knew such particular people as the Tlatonacians," muttered Jack, somewhat vexed. "Well, angelito, we must say good-bye here."

"Will you take the opal for good fortune, Juan?"

"I? Take the opal? My dear Dolores, I would be frightened out of my life at carrying such a treasure with me. No! No! You keep the opal with yourself, and yourself in Tlatonac. Then will the good fortune of the city be assured. But I will take this ring."

"Turquoise! rubies! pearls!" said Dolores, drawing it off her finger. "It was my mother's, querido. Now it is yours."

"A thousand thousand thanks, alma de mi alma!" replied Jack, slipping it on his little finger, "it will remind me ever of you. Rubies for your lips, pearls for your teeth, and – and – "

"Ah! and what for turquoise?" said Dolores, seeing he was rather nonplussed, "for my eyes?"

"No, those are black! Well, we will say turquoise for peace. The blue ray of the opal means peace. And now, good-bye, my dearest – my own one!"

"Adios, Juanito. My soul! My heart!"

Jack, not trusting himself to speak further, kissed her passionately, and hastily left the house. Fortunately, he met no one, much to his gratification, as he was too agitated to say a word. He went to his house, and put all his necessaries together, then, in company with Peter, went on board The Montezuma.

At three o'clock the forts saluted the squadron, and The Iturbide, followed by the torpederas, stood out to sea. The crowd on the beach watched the vessels until they were mere specks on the horizon, and then retreated within the walls, with loudly expressed hopes that they would return with the rebel ship in tow. The Tlatonacians expected much more than they were ever likely to obtain.

The three vessels stood out about ten miles from the coast, and steamed southward at no great speed, as Pedraza did not wish to fetch Janjalla until darkness had set in. As two warships and the transports had gone to Acauhtzin, it was probable that The Pizarro would be the only vessel left in the harbour, and vigilant watch would be kept on board, lest the torpederas should come on her unawares. The rebel commander knew perfectly well that the torpederas had arrived, and would soon be in chase of his ships; but he did not expect that they would be able to attack while the other war-ships were away. Still, it was probable The Pizarro would make good use of her search-lights, and Pedraza, wishing to come to close quarters unexpectedly, had to exercise the greatest care as they drew near the harbour.

Towards nine o'clock they were off the coast of Janjalla, and intense excitement prevailed on board all three vessels. The plan of attack had been settled at a general counsel on board The Iturbide before they left Tlatonac, and it was arranged as follows. The Iturbide was to steam silently into the harbour of Janjalla, followed by the torpederas, and come to close quarters with The Pizarro, if possible. Should she be discovered by the search-light of the latter, she was then to steam boldly ahead, and concentrate the attention of the rebels on herself. The Pizarro, thus being busy with the cruiser, would not notice the torpederas, which could then steal silently within five hundred yards, and launch a Whitehead or so. The result would be obvious.

The torpederas, with twin screws and powerful engines, manœuvred with wonderful rapidity, darting here and there in the darkness like black sharks. Both were armed with Hotchkiss guns and four Whitehead torpedo-tubes, while their strong search-lights protected them against the unexpected approach of an enemy. Painted a dark colour to escape notice, they could steal silently within striking distance of a vessel, and sink her with one of their deadly explosives. The only chance of safety for The Pizarro lay in her sighting them at a considerable distance, and keeping them at bay with her heavy guns; but as she would be fully taken up with The Iturbide, this would be difficult for her to do. Worst of all, she had no defence against the rapid darting torpederas, as the nets had been left behind in Tlatonac, when she deserted to the rebel Xuarez.

As to the cruiser, she was a handsome vessel, with a spar deck, and filled with bow chasers and Gatling guns. She carried a crew of ninety men including officers, and also two hundred soldiers, who had embarked at Tlatonac to be landed, if possible, at Janjalla. Fifteen knots was her usual speed; but, if necessary, she could stand to seventeen. This was the fleet of the Junta, and now manœuvred ten miles from the town of Janjalla, waiting the signal to pounce down on the unsuspecting Pizarro.

Fortunately the night was cloudy and dark. At intervals the moon, emerging from behind heavy clouds, cast a pale light over the scene. It was far down in the west, and would soon drop behind the low-lying shore, so Pedraza, who wanted complete darkness for his project, waited until her disappearance before he gave the signal to steam into the harbour. All lights were extinguished on the vessel, so as to avoid attracting the attention of the enemy, but, if necessary, the search-lights could blaze forth in an instant. The torpederas were to attack the warship, one on the port, the other on the starboard side. It was now close upon midnight, and as the moon showed but half her orb above the shore, all waited the signal in breathless silence.

"What is to be done if we sink The Pizarro?" asked Jack, as he stood by Rafael, watching for the signal from The Iturbide.

"Quien sabe!" replied Maraquando, shrugging his shoulders, "I expect we will wait in the harbour till daylight, and then see if we can land our troops."

"There won't be much chance of that, my Comandante," said Duval, drily; "between us and Janjalla two thousand rebel troops lie encamped. We cannot break through that barrier."

"You forget, mi amigo, there are close on a thousand troops of the Junta in the town. By this time the reinforcements must have reached their destination, so that will make two thousand. If they attack the rebels from Janjalla, and we land our two hundred men under cover of The Iturbide's guns, who knows but what we may not be able to crush these scoundrels before their warships and transports arrive from Acauhtzin."

"Bueno! Always presuming that the reinforcements have arrived safely. I fear the Indians."

"Carambo! Surely a thousand well-armed soldiers are a match for a horde of naked savages. The reinforcements are safe in Janjalla by now. I am sure of it. Believe me, Don Juan, we shall exterminate the rebels."

"First we shall have to exterminate The Pizarro, and – "

"Hold!" interrupted Rafael joyfully, "the signal."

A rocket shot up from The Iturbide and scattered its fires in the dark air. The moon had entirely disappeared, and an intense gloom prevailed over land and sea.

Hardly had the rocket's trail of fire disappeared when The Iturbide's screw began to spin and followed by the torpederas she moved cautiously towards the harbour at half speed. At the end of an hour all three vessels were within sight of the town. Through the gloom sparkled the lights of Janjalla, and between them and the incoming vessels lay the huge bulk of The Pizarro, the glare of her search-lights shooting up into the dark like two gigantic swords of pale flame.

The Iturbide was leading by three hundred yards, and crept cautiously forward so as to pounce on her prey unawares. Whether the noise of her screw reached the ears of those on board The Pizarro, or that they marked her coming through the darkness, it is impossible to say, but just as she steamed within eight hundred yards, the search-lights swept round like the spokes of a wheel and in a moment their glare revealed her whereabouts. In the radiance she stood out like a phantom ship, and seeing that he was discovered, Pedraza cracking on all steam, swept past The Pizarro in a wide circle.

A heavy fire was at once opened by the rebels and they doubtless deemed that this foe was not alone, for keeping one light on the cruiser, they swept the sea with the other in search of her possible companions. Those on board The Iturbide could hear the yell of mingled rage and terror, as the light struck the low bulk of The Zuloaga darting through the water, evil looking and venomous. A broadside was poured on the torpedera, now left unprotected by The Iturbide which was circling to the left in the inner part of the bay. Owing to the dexterity of The Zuloaga's manœuvring, none of the heavy guns could hit her. She skimmed the grey waves at full speed like a swallow, and the search light of The Pizarro was much put to in following her. It was like a dancer in the theatre followed by the lime light. One moment the torpedera would be swallowed up in the gloom, the next moment the darting ray of the electric light would stab through the darkness and pick her out. The other ray followed The Iturbide, which kept steaming slowly backwards and forwards on the port side, firing her Armstrongs whenever she got a fair chance.

The Zuloaga sent off a bow torpedo, but it passed harmlessly under the stern of The Pizarro without doing any damage. Nevertheless, the crew of the rebel ship seemed much alarmed, as well they might be, seeing that a single torpedo striking them amidships would sink their iron ship in a few minutes. Foolishly enough, it never occurred to De Galevez to sweep the starboard with his lights, and he was quite unaware that a second torpedo-vessel was stealing up in the darkness.

Indeed, what with following The Iturbide and The Zuloaga with his search-lights, De Galevez had enough to do, and kept the torpedo boat at bay with his heavy guns. Occasionally a shot from The Iturbide would pass through the rigging of the rebel ship, but no damage was done, and De Galevez's great desire was to keep at a distance the wasp-like torpedo which circled round rapidly, everywhere trying to plant its sting.

While this drama was taking place on the port side, The Montezuma, on seeing The Iturbide was discovered, moved up on the starboard at a distance of four hundred yards. When abreast of The Pizarro she slowed down her engines and crept up within pistol range. Had it not been for the incessant firing of the guns, those on board The Pizarro would surely have become aware of their danger. As it was, they thought themselves safe while they kept The Zuloaga at a distance. A tremendous broadside was directed at that torpedera and at The Iturbide. It was her last discharge, for the next moment she was struck amidships by a torpedo from The Montezuma.

There was a cry of frenzied fear, and the search lights flashed round to starboard only to see The Montezuma slipping back into the gloom. Three minutes afterwards The Pizarro sank.

The vessels of the Junta at once flashed their electric rays on the spot, and where a moment before had been a magnificent vessel, now saw nothing but a wide expanse of cold black sea dotted with drowning men. Boats were lowered by The Iturbide and a few soldiers and sailors were rescued, but so suddenly had The Pizarro gone down that, with the exception of half a dozen survivors, the whole crew, officers, and soldiers, in all three hundred men, were drowned.

It would be impossible to describe the joy on board the loyalist ships at this successful termination of the contest. Rafael and Jack went on board The Iturbide to receive the congratulations of Pedraza for their success, and the officers of The Zuloaga also hastened to participate in the general joy. The large state-room of the cruiser was one mass of excited men, drinking champagne, and wildly embracing one another. This victory would surely damp the enthusiasm of the rebels, and raise that of the loyalists to fever pitch. Don Hypolito had now but two ships of war, and these could not surely stand before the valour of The Iturbide, with her two torpedo-vessels. The vivas were deafening, and Rafael, as commander of the boat which had sunk The Pizarro, was nearly stifled by the embraces of his brother officers.

As soon as the excitement had somewhat subsided, all went on deck, and The Iturbide stood in to the shore with the idea of seeing how matters stood in the rebel camp. Flying the Opal flag, lest the forts should open fire on one of their own vessels, the cruiser turned her lights on to the beach, and saw that it was lined with the rebel forces, all under arms. The noise of the firing and the flashing of the lights had attracted the attention of those on shore, and fearing that an attack was contemplated by the enemy, those rebels encamped in front of Janjalla were now on the alert. No one could understand the reason of this sea-fight, as it seemed quite impossible that the torpederas could have arrived from Tlatonac in so short a period. The general in command of the troops of Xuarez did not know what to think, and had to wait till dawn before he could make up his mind what course to pursue.

As the lights of The Iturbide struck the distant town, a long line of walls, surmounted by a crowd, leaped out of the darkness. The search-lights from the forts were flashed on to the ships, and those in Janjalla recognising the Opal flag, cheered vociferously. They saw three boats, each flying the ensign of Tlatonac, and no Pizarro. Then they guessed what had occurred, and were glad accordingly. The rebel soldiers on the beach stamped and swore with rage as they saw their loss, but being without boats could do nothing save parade under arms till dawn, so as to be prepared against a possible attack by the victorious loyalists.

"Bueno!" cried Captain Pedraza, who had his night glass up. "There is one good thing, mis amigos, the Opal flag still flies over the town, so as yet it holds out."

"What is next to be done, Comandante?" asked Jack, who was standing near with Rafael.

"We must wait till dawn, Señor Americano, and then find out if the reinforcements have arrived at Janjalla. Afterwards we will steam back to Tlatonac, and if possible meet the Cortes and Columbus coming back. In any event, we must go to Tlatonac to report this victory to the Junta."

"Shall you land these two hundred troops?"

"Caranto! Why not?"

"Because the camp of the enemy lies between the town and ourselves. Two hundred men cannot do much against two thousand."

"True, Señor. If it is impossible, we will not attempt it. But at dawn, I will signal to General Gigedo to make a sally from the gates down to the shore; our men will land, and effect a conjunction, and so with small loss they ought to get into the town. Especially under cover of our guns, and those of the forts."

"I don't see what use that will be, Pedraza," interrupted Rafael, bluntly.

"Caro, Señor! His Excellency ordered this to be done, so it must be done."

"Rather a useless task, I think," said Jack, dryly. "However, I am not sorry, as I wish to get into the town myself. But you, Señor Comandante, what will you do?"

"Wait till these troops are safe with Gigedo, and also ascertain if the reinforcements have arrived. Then I shall sail north."

"You won't wait for the warships and transports?"

"Carajo! what use? We shall find those on our way to Tlatonac."

After this conversation, Rafael and Jack returned on board The Montezuma, the former slightly gloomy in spite of the victory so unexpectedly achieved.

"Caro, Juan!" he said, reflectively; "if we lose this war, it will be through Don Francisco Gomez. He is a good politician, but a bad general. What use is there to sacrifice two hundred men to-morrow?"

"It's rather like the Charge of the Light Brigade, certainly," replied Jack, with a smile; "as foolhardy and as brave."

"What is that, mi amigo?"

Whereupon Jack related the glorious charge to Rafael, and thereby stirred up the excitable Spaniard to fiery enthusiasm.

"Oh, what men are the English," he cried, stamping his foot. "It is a story worthy of the Cid. But this to-morrow, my friend – it is rare! it is brave! and, like your story, there is no good to be gained."

"Perhaps Gomez wants to frighten the rebels by showing them how dauntless are his men."

"Dios! That is not wise. The sinking of The Pizarro will frighten them without risking two hundred lives. However, as it is ordered, it must be done. But you, Don Juan! Will you go?"

"Assuredly, mi amigo. I wish to see the Señor Correspondent and Felipe."

"But you will be killed."

"That is as it may be. But no, Rafael. I did not escape the perils of Totatzine to fall in a skirmish before the walls of Janjalla. But see, mi amigo, it is nearly dawn, let us snatch a few hours' sleep."

"Bueno!" replied Rafael, leading the way to his cabin; "but first we must call our friends together, and toast our victory once more."

It was done accordingly.