DON HYPOLITO XUAREZ.
A visionary? Wherefore not? All men
Who change the world are dreamers in their youth.
Thought comes before fulfilment!--in the earth,
The hidden seedling hints the future flower!
So is it with this man! For years his brain
Hath dallied with a thousand fantasies,
Which had no being save within himself.
But now his dreams take shape!--with purpose firm,
He aids their due fulfilment, till therefrom
New heavens and earth are formed, and ancient things
Crashing to ruin, as foundations serve
Whereon to build earth's future destinies.
There was no doubt that Don Hypolito laid due stress on ceremonial
observances as necessary to consolidate his pretensions. On the ground
that Gomez had broken the constitutional rules by which he held his
position, Xuarez proclaimed himself saviour and President of the
Cholacacan Republic. Not being in possession of Tlatonac, he
constituted Acauhtzin his capital for the time being, and there assumed
all the airs of a ruler. He called himself by the title of President,
his personal staff and intimate friends constituted a kind of
revolutionary Junta, and the building in which this illegal assemblage
met for conference was dignified with the name of the Palacio Nacional.
In all respects the machinery of the lawful Government was copied at
Acauhtzin, and that town was regarded by the Opposidores as the true
capital of the country until such time as Xuarez should enforce his
pretensions by marching in triumph into the head city of the Republic.
As in the Middle Ages two Popes ruled--the one at Rome, the other at
Avignon--so the allegiance of Cholacaca was claimed by two Presidents:
Gomez at Tlatonac, Xuarez at Acauhtzin.
The extraordinary man who avowed himself the saviour of type country
possessed in a marked degree that power of dominating all with whom he
came in contact by the personal charm of his manner. This dæmonic
influence is a peculiar characteristic of all great men, without which
they could not hope to accomplish their missions. Napoleon changed the
map of Europe, Mahomet created a religion, Cæsar consolidated the Roman
Empire, Luther tore half the civilised world from the grip of
ecclesiastical Rome. These great events sprang in the first instance
from the strong personality of the men who accomplished them, hence the
performance of what appear to be miracles. Don Hypolito Xuarez, son of
a Spanish adventurer and an Indian woman, possessed this dæmonic
influence, and gifted with such power, arose from obscurity to the full
glory of supreme power. Nowhere was his authority more noticeable than
in Acauhtzin. Years before a political adventurer, he had been accepted
by the people of that town as their deputy to the Junta. Acauhtzin,
always jealous of the superiority of Tlatonac, was desirous that the
seat of Government should be transferred thither from the city of the
opal. This ambition was fostered by the crafty Xuarez, who saw therein
a safe way of gaining the love of the northern capital. After he had
accused Gomez in the Junta of breaking the rules of the constitution,
he came northward to claim the protection of his constituents, a
protection which was freely accorded to one who had their interests so
much at heart.
Cunning Don Hypolito saw his position and how he could better it.
Casting all his fortunes on one bold stroke, he assembled the
townspeople in the great plaza, and harangued them with all his
marvellous powers of oratory. Gomez had tampered with the sacred
constitution of Cholacaca. Gomez was therefore unworthy to occupy the
Presidential chair. One man alone could save the country, that man was
himself. Let them throw in their fortunes with his, and resort to arms
to inforce his elevation to the supreme power. Then he would transfer
the seat of Government from Tlatonac to Acauhtzin, and the northern
port would become the greatest city in Central America. Dazzled by this
vision, the townspeople elected Don Hypolito President with enthusiasm,
and vowed to stand by him to the end. That end they never for a moment
doubted would be victory over the established Government, and the
transference of the seat of power from Tlatonac to Acauhtzin. They
firmly believed in Don Hypolito as the man of the future, and when, by
a skilful stroke of diplomacy, he secured the support of the Regimiento
de Huitzilopochtli and of the fleet, his triumph was complete. He who
could do so much could do more! The admiring townsfolk swore by the
brilliant adventurer, and when the message carried by Don Alonzo
arrived at the northern capital, the crafty Mestizo was the idol of the
populace. The ironical part of the whole affair was that he had no
intention of fulfiling any promises made to his trusting constituents.
Jack, owing to his long residence in Tlatonac, was already acquainted
with Xuarez, but both Tim and Philip were exceedingly curious to behold
this man, of whom they had heard so much, and who seemed to hold the
destinies of the Republic in the hollow of his hand. In the Great hall
of the Palacio Nacional (so called) they beheld him for the first time,
waiting to receive the emissaries of the Government. Surrounded by a
brilliant throng of officers, he alone was plainly dressed, no uniform,
no gaudy tints, no decorations, yet his personality raised him high
above those by whom he was encircled. The supporters of Xuarez were
mediocrites; Xuarez himself was a great man.
The revolutionary leader was small of stature, ungraceful in
appearance; his legs were short, his body was long, so that he rather
waddled than walked. At first sight this ungainly figure, this
ungraceful gait, was apt to bring a smile to the lips of the onlooker,
but that smile faded before the grand countenance surmounting the
misshapen frame. It was as though the head of a Greek statue had been,
by mistake, joined on to the body of a Polynesian idol; the first was
so noble, the latter so grotesque. A Roman head, such as tradition
ascribes to the Cæsars, a Napoleonic face, calm, powerful, terrible as
the impassive countenance of the Sphinx. Broad forehead, prominent
nose, large eyes, full of fire and determination; no beard or moustache
to hide the contour of the cheeks, the strong curve of the mouth, a
skin of marble whiteness, and the whole surmounted by masses of waving
hair, dark as the eyes beneath. Such faces are seen on the coins of the
Cæsars, on the painted walls of Egyptian tombs, on the carven walls of
Assyrian palaces. They belong alone to kings, to heroes, to conquerors.
Nature marks her great men thus. When such faces of terrible calm
appear at intervals of centuries, mankind trembles, they recognise the
scourges of God, destined to whelm the world in waves of blood. Philip
came to see Xuarez--he looked, and lo! Napoleon.
"The struggle is unequal," he whispered to Jack, as Don Alonzo unrolled
his papers.
"Yes," replied Duval, in the same tone. "His force is too weak to stand
against the power of the Junta."
Philip smiled scornfully.
"What can the Junta do against that face?" he said, contemptuously.
"There stands the greatest man in Cholacaca."
"D----n him," muttered the engineer, fiercely, "he has carried off
Dolores."
"Silence, boys," growled Tim, in a voice of subdued thunder, "the Don's
speaking."
The Intendante was not a particularly brave man, and hardly liked the
position in which he now found himself. His mission had appeared to be
great and grand and glorious at Tlatonac! but now it assumed quite a
different complexion. To utter threats against the rebel Xuarez, when
in the society of friends, was one thing; to order the followers of the
revolutionary President to give him up to punishment, in the middle of
his army, was another. Don Alonzo Cebrian hummed and hawed, and cleared
his throat, to get down a nasty lump which impeded his speech. Don
Hypolito saw his confusion, but said nothing, he did not even smile,
but sat serenely in his chair, impenetrable as the Sphinx. At last the
Intendante screwed up his courage and delivered the decree of the
Junta--sufficiently badly, it is true--still, he delivered it.
"As the legally qualified representative of the Junta of Cholacaca, in
congress assembled, I hereby order those in arms against the Republic
to surrender to the Government, and to deliver up for punishment the
body of the rebel, Hypolito Xuarez, for----"
He did not finish his sentence. A low murmur of rage arose from the
supporters of the rebel leader, and, half-drawing their swords, they
looked towards Xuarez for authority to cut down the daring man who had
thus insulted him in the midst of his army. Don Alonzo turned pale at
the sight of the half-bared weapons, and shrank back among his friends;
but Xuarez, leaning his chin on his hand, stared steadily before him
and waited. Seeing this impassive demeanour, which he was not clever
enough to know was more dangerous than an outburst of rage, Don Alonzo
regained his spirits. A more unfitted diplomatist than Cebrian could
scarcely have been chosen.
"I need not speak at any great length," he said, rapidly. "The orders
of his Excellency Francisco Gomez are that the town of Acauhtzin
surrender to the Government, deliver up the rebel Xuarez for
punishment, and submit to the clemency of the Junta. If this is done at
once, the Junta will be lenient; if not, the opal standard will be
unfurled, and all the inhabitants of Acauhtzin will be treated as
rebels. This is the decree of Don Francisco Gomez on the part of the
Junta of Cholacaca, delivered by myself the Intendante of Xicotencatl."
Then, Cebrian, having delivered his message sufficiently badly, rolled
up his papers with the air of a man who has done his duty, and waited
the reply of the rebel leader. All those on the side of Xuarez frowned
heavily, but made no demonstration of wrath at the insolence of the
message. They waited to hear Don Hypolito speak. The Mestizo arose to
his feet, and addressed himself, not to the emissaries of the Republic,
but to his own supporters.
"Señores," he said, in a singularly mellow and powerful voice, "you
hear the decree of the so-called Junta of Cholacaca. Lest you should
mistake the purport of the message delivered by Don Alonzo Cebrian, I
will repeat it shortly. You are to lay down your arms, surrender my
body to the Junta, and trust to the tender mercies of your rivals of
Tlatonac for judgment. These are the conditions, which, if not
accepted, will bring on us the thunderbolts of war from a Government
who have not a navy, and scarce an army. Your answer?"
Hitherto he had spoken in a low tone, clear and distinct, but
distinguished by no oratorical fire. At the last words, however, his
voice rang through the hall like thunder, and he repeated them with
emphasis.
"Your answer, Señores?"
"No! no! no! Viva Xuarez! Viva el gefe! Abaja, Gomez!"
Don Hypolito listened to those fierce responses with a smile of
pleasure on his usually immobile face, and when the clamour died away,
arose slowly to his feet. Facing the messengers of the Republic, he
addressed them sharply, laconically.
"You hear, Señores. Go!"
"You refuse!" said Don Alonzo, scarcely able to believe his ears.
"I refuse to surrender myself to your tyrants. The people of Acauhtzin
refuse to lay down their arms. Between myself and the illegal Junta now
sitting at Tlatonac, there is no friendship, no trust, no faith. They
proclaim me a rebel! I, Hypolito Xuarez, proclaim war!"
He flung up his hand with a fiery gesture, and as he did so a hundred
swords flashed from their scabbards.
"War!" cried those in the hall. "War! Viva Xuarez!"
Don Alonzo tore the message of the Republic in twain, and cast the
pieces at the foot of the dais whereon Xuarez was seated.
"So be it!" he cried, turning his back, "War!"
"Hold!" said Xuarez, in a voice of thunder. "You came, Señores, under
the protection of the English flag. You go with the opal banner flying
at your masthead. Such a precaution was useless. I am not a barbarian
to fire on a flag of truce; but you--you, Señores, are cowards to thus
distrust an honourable foe."
Before the Intendante could speak, Philip sprang forward, and faced the
speaker.
"The fault, Señor, if fault it be, is mine. The vessel in which we came
is English, and, therefore, flies the English flag. In the port, I
hoisted the opal banner, to show that these gentlemen were on board,
and had come on a mission from the Junta."
"An excellent explanation!" sneered Hypolito, frowning; "but untrue!"
"Señor!"
"Untrue, I say! You thought I would fire on your ship! You looked on me
as a barbaric foe! You mistrusted me!"
"And who would not?" said Jack's deep voice savagely, "who would not
mistrust one who makes war on women?"
"Be quiet, Jack."
"I do not understand you, Señor Duval," said Xuarez, who knew the young
engineer quite well. "Explain!"
"Doña Dolores, the niece of Don Miguel Maraquando, has been kidnapped
from Tlatonac! I accuse you of carrying her off."
"I deny it, Señor! It is false," cried the rebel leader, a flush
reddening the marble whiteness of his face. "Doña Dolores is not in
Acauhtzin."
"She may not be here, Señor, but you know where she is!"
"I do not, Señor! You have no proof of what you say."
"Pepe, the zambo, a spy in your pay, carried off a woman from
Tlatonac," cried Rafael, stepping forward. "That woman was my cousin,
Dolores."
Xuarez started, and spoke rapidly to one of his officers, who thereupon
left the room.
"Ah! you know much, Señor," he resumed, scornfully; "but you are wrong;
the zambo was my spy----"
"Carambo!"
"I repeat he was my spy in Tlatonac," said Xuarez, coolly; "and he left
the city with a plan of your fortifications."
"Por todos Santos," roared Garibay, fiercely, clapping his hand on his
sword.
"Call on whom you like, Señor Commandante! I have no reason to hide
this from you or from the Junta, else would I have kept silent. I know
when to hold my tongue, Señores; I know when to speak! I speak now! Go
back and tell your President that I have a full plan of Tlatonac in my
possession, and that I will use it to take your city, and level its
walls to the ground."
"If you can do so!" said Garibay, tauntingly.
"If I can do so. As you say," replied Xuarez, suddenly recognising that
this controversy was unworthy of his rank; "we need say no more on that
subject. Ha!" he added, as the officers, with a man and a woman,
entered the hall, "here is Pepe! and here, Señores, is the woman he
carried off."
The woman threw back her rebozo.
"Marina!" cried Jack, in despair.
"You see, Señores," said Don Hypolito, serenely, "I am not the base one
you think me to be."
"I'm not so sure of that," muttered Tim, under his breath.
"But this, Señores, is outside the question. You came to me with a
message from the Junta. I have answered that message. Go! Go, and carry
back to Tlatonac my defiance and that of Acauhtzin. Sail away under
your opal flag, caballeros, and I promise you my guns will respect your
vessel. Adios. Go!"
He pointed imperiously down the hall to where the great doors stood
wide open, and, headed by Don Alonzo, the deputation retired. Rafael
was biting his lips with rage, and Garibay was swearing under his
breath. The exit was scarcely dignified or worthy of the greatness of
the Republic.
"I never felt so mean in my life," whispered Philip to Tim. "What a
beast the man is!"
"And you said he was a great man!"
"So he is. But even great men are human. Xuarez is not perfect; but I
believe he is honourable as regards rules of warfare. We can leave the
harbour in safety."
"I doubt that, my boy," said Tim, significantly; "the man's a liar!"
"What!" said Jack, overhearing this; "do you think that Dolores----?"
"I think that he knows where she is."
"Then I'll stay here till he gives her up."
"You'll stay here a long time, then. She is not in Acauhtzin."
"Then where is she?"
"It's more nor I know."
They were marching down the street on their way to the sea-gate,
surrounded by their own soldiers and a troop of the Regimiento de
Huitzilopochtli. Around this living barrier raged the populace, who had
heard of the message sent by the Republic, demanding the surrender of
Xuarez, and were mad with anger. To give up the idol of their
hearts--the man on whom the glorious future of Acauhtzin depended! It
was an insult! If they could have got at the emissaries, they would
have torn them to pieces; but, fortunately, the line of soldiers
prevented this. Don Alonzo was pale with terror, but Rafael and Garibay
swore loudly at the rebel crowd. The three Englishmen smiled scornfully
and marched serenely along, not heeding the savage howling of the mob,
which recognised them as foreigners.
"Abajo los Americanos! Mueran los Yankies!"
"We would have rather a hard time out there," said Philip, as Tim, his
huge frame shaking with anger, ranged alongside of him. "Keep together
boys. Where's Jack?"
"Behind, with Don Rafael. Don't trouble, Philip; Jack Duval has his
six-shooter on him."
"Good! I hope I am not a coward," said the baronet, serenely, as a clod
of earth hit him on the shoulder; "but I will be glad when we are safe
on board _The Bohemian_."
"So will I. This is like Donnybrook Fair. But we're nearly outside the
town. Glory be to the saints!"
As they approached the gate, the fury of the mob increased, and it took
all the strength of the soldiers, tramping shoulder to shoulder, to
prevent them breaking through and falling on the emissaries of the
Junta. At the gate, however, a soldier stumbled and fell, whereon,
through the gap thus formed, a torrent of men rushed, shouting wildly.
The escort fought bravely, and the rebel soldiers did their best to
save the ambassadors. It would be a disgrace to Acauhtzin to let the
mob have their will.
Inch by inch they fought their way down to the sea-shore, surrounded by
the howling multitude. Philip knocked down a man who tried to snatch
his watch-chain, and Tim, head and shoulders above the torrent of
humanity, whacked every head he saw heartily with his heavy stick.
"When you see a head, hit it." That was Tim's rule of warfare. He
picked it up at Donnybrook Fair, and applied it practically in his
present predicament.
At the water's edge they were hurried into several boats, and amid a
shower of stones and mud, managed to get on board the yacht. As soon as
all were on deck, Benker, without waiting for instructions, started the
boat. Philip stood at the side of the ship and shook his fist at the
shore.
"You scoundrels!" he raged, fiercely. "You dishonourable wretches."
"And Xuarez is a great man," scoffed Tim, wiping the blood from his
face.
"Well," retorted Philip, viciously, "he's not responsible for this
mob."
"When we return," swore Rafael, who stood near him, "we will level
those walls with the sand."
By this time the yacht had passed out of the harbour, and was steaming
between the two war-ships. Don Alonzo began to recover his courage.
"Thanks to the Holy Virgin, we are all safe, Señores," he said, in a
trembling voice. "The Junta will bitterly resent this insult shown to
the Intendante of Xicotencatl."
Philip looked around with an alarmed expression of countenance.
"Where's Jack?"
"Jack!" cried Tim, in a stentorian voice.
There was no answer.
"Señor Juan was with me," said Rafael, quickly, "but I lost him from my
side outside the gate."
"He must be down below," said Philip, greatly disturbed, and went off
to the cabin. In a few moments he reappeared.
"He is not there. My God! Can he be lost?"
The yacht was searched thoroughly, but no trace of Jack Duval could be
found. Philip wanted to put back and rescue his friend, who had been
evidently left ashore.
"Impossible, Señor!" cried Don Alonzo, in alarm; "it is dangerous."
"I do not care. Do you think I am going to leave my dear friend to be
torn to pieces by these savages?" raged Philip, stamping his foot.
"The soldiers will protect him," said Garibay, who was terribly upset
at the discovery of their loss. He was very fond of Jack.
"Did they protect us?" said Tim, who was quite beside himself with
grief and rage. "Turn her head back, Philip."
Don Rafael, Tim, and the baronet were all in favour of doing this, but
Don Alonzo and Garibay said it would be madness. By this time they were
beyond the range of the fort guns, and in safety; but notwithstanding
the remonstrances of the terrified Intendante, Philip altered the
course of the boat, and started back to the harbour.
"I will save Jack, if I die for it," he said, fiercely.
Just as _The Bohemian_ approached the warships, a puff of smoke burst
from the sides of both, and two balls ricochetted across the waves.
"Not blank cartridge this time," muttered Tim, grimly, "The dirty
cowards, to fire on an unarmed boat. And the forts!"
One! two! three! four! A perfect cannonade thundered from the forts,
and one of the spars of the boat was carried away. The warships
repeated their fire, and, against his will, Philip was forced to stop
the engines. It was no use running into a hornet's nest. Another
quarter of a mile, nay less, and _The Bohemian_ would be smashed to
pieces. The engines were reversed, and Philip shook his fist wildly at
the town.
"First Dolores! then Jack! Oh, cursed, cursed town!"