Hill met them as they entered the living-room. His eyes were full of
news.
"Well, boys," he said, "I don't know that you're in fur another
adventure, but ye kin call it by that name when you git home if you
like; leastways there ain't no doubt about it's bein' an experience."
The boys forgot the waiting breakfast. "What is it?" they demanded
simultaneously. "Quick! quick!"
"It's this. I don't suppose you know more about the history of your
country 'n most kids do. Well, Alvarado and General Castro are your two
big men--"
"We know that," interrupted Roldan, scornfully.
"Oh, you do? Then mebbe you know who'se govenor at the present moment."
"Micheltorena. He was sent from Mexico. People don't like him, and they
despise the men he brought with him, still more."
"So. Well, I allus did say you was a remarkable kid, Rolly. However,
this is the way the case stands now. Alvarado's mad as hops to be
ousted for a furriner, so to speak, and Castro's been bilin' fur some
time, because General Vallejo's been promoted ahead of him. So the two
on 'em determined on a revolution. They had a skirmish on Salinas
plains that didn't decide much, and then Alvarado and Castro marched
south, from ranch to ranch,--you just levanted in time,--persuadin' the
rancheros to uphold their cause and give 'em their sons. As they have a
way with 'em, of course they got all the recruits they wanted, to say
nothin' of the finest horses in stock--caponara after caponara. They
say the sight when they marched into Los Angeles was somethin' to go
hungry for. Of course all Los Angeles went over to such triumphant
lookin' rebels, and to-day or to-morrow there's goin' to be a big
battle. I only heard this mornin'. Old Sanchez' brother come post haste
about two hours ago fur his gun and as many men and horses as he could
drum up. Of course Alvarado marched down the coast valleys, so old
Carillo and his neighbours are eatin' their breakfast in blissful
ignorance."
"And shall we really see a great battle?" demanded Roldan, faintly. He
was pale, his nostrils were twitching, "Alvarado! Castro! Micheltorena!"
"Well, you kin, if you bolt that there breakfast. The horses'll be here
in about twenty minutes, and a battle's somethin' I'm pinin' to see,
too."
The boys ate their breakfast rapidly and in silence. A half hour later
they were galloping furiously for Los Angeles, escorted by the equally
enthusiastic Hill. The river was low and quiet. The horses swam it
without let from tide or snag. Even Adan forgot to cross himself.
Beyond was the high hill that lies directly to the north of Los
Angeles. Its surface seemed in motion; it looked like a huge ant-hill.
"Them's women," said Hill, a few moments after they had left the river
behind them. "Women and children. The fight must be on. Hist! Do you
hear that?"
All three reined in. The sound of cannonading, distant but distinct,
came to their ears. Without a word they lashed their mustangs and made
for the city. They entered it in a few moments. It looked like a
necropolis. Not a human being was to be seen. They spurred back to the
hill and began the ascent, then paused for a few moments. It was a wild
and tragic scene. Hundreds of women and children, their hair streaming
in the high wind, were kneeling with uplifted crosses, praying aloud,
when they were not weeping. A few men, Americans, were passing to and
fro among them, administering encouragement; but their gaze also was
directed anxiously to the north.
Hill dismounted and approached one of the Americans, conferred with him
a moment, then returned to the impatient boys.
"They are fightin' in the San Fernando valley, three leagues to the
north," he said. "We've got no time to lose."
They were less than an hour reaching the battlefield. During that hour
Roldan scarcely knew how he felt. When he left the hacienda he was
possessed by an intense curiosity only; but with that first dull boom
something new and fierce had leapt to life within him. Every few
moments his fingers moved round to the hip-pocket that held his
pistols. The weeping women and children had made him quiver from head
to foot. As they approached the battlefield, and powder-smoke mingled
with the green fragrance of winter, he thought that his nostrils would
burst. His ear-drums were splitting with the thunder of cannon.
Suddenly Hill caught him by the arm.
"Look!" he cried. "There be Alvarado and Castro over there, and
Micheltorena on t' other side. Ain't they magnificent specimens? Why,
what's the matter?"
"Let me go!" said Roldan. His face was deeply flushed, his eyes blazed.
"Come, Adan! come, Adan!" he shouted. "An Alvarado! an Alvarado!"
"Holy smoke!" cried Hill. "You don't say you're meanin' to fight after
sweatin' fur a month to git clear of the hull business?"
But Roldan, grasping the bridle of the less enthusiastic Adan, was
already far ahead. The boys rode straight into the melee, firing
through the smoke until their ammunition was exhausted. Even Adan after
the first few moments lost all sense of fear, and following Roldan's
example, snatched the gun from a fallen soldier and fired and reloaded
until his hands were blistered, and his eyes half sightless with smoke.
Roldan, obeying his dominant instinct, pushed his way rapidly to the
front, attracting much attention. Some one recognised him, and during
one of the many pauses of this not very systematic and furious battle
some one cheered the little don. The cheer was taken up vociferously.
It boomed across the battlefield. A moment later a man came dashing
across with a flag of truce: the cheering was supposed by the enemy to
herald the advance of reinforcements. The truce was accepted without
explanations, and Roldan was hurried into the presence of Alvarado.
That famous governor was sitting on a magnificent charger, caparisoned
with carved leather, red velvet, silver, and gold. His black eyes were
smiling, although the rest of his pale stern face was composed.
"So this is the runaway," he said. "I demanded you from your father,
and he was much embarrassed to confess that you had fled to escape the
conscription. Well, I am glad you did, for you have saved the day for
me. But it is time you were in Monterey, for you've got the face of the
leader of men, and the sooner your education begins the better. Will
you come with me? Your father will not refuse."
The blood was pounding in Roldan's ears, but he managed to reply calmly
that he would go.
He was then presented to General Castro, a man of fine military
bearing, with classic features, but dark and stern. His eyes were as
sombre as Alvarado's: doubtless both knew that their day would be
short, their great gifts wasted in this far-away land, as remote from
the great civilisations where lasting reputations are made as had it
been on another planet.
He shook Roldan warmly by the hand, but he did not smile.
"Yes," he said, "it will be a pleasure to train you; and as you are
young and malleable you will adapt yourself to the new order of things
when it comes. Both Alvarado and I will write to your father; I am sure
he will send you to us in Monterey."
And then they graciously dismissed him.
As the boys left the battlefield they came upon Hill, who was sitting
on a hillock eating a sandwich. When Roldan had told his story the
American replied:
"Shake! Rolly, you've got a heap o' genius, but you've got a durned
sight more luck. You'll git there--one way or nother--if the skies
fall. And I wish ye luck, I do for a fact."
"Don Jim," said Roldan, gravely, "have you another sandwich? We are
very hungry."