After the first moment of confusion had passed, the Royalists commenced
preparing to receive the attack, with that coolness which springs from
practised discipline. In a short while every one was at his post.
The sun was just appearing above the horizon, disclosing to each army
the view of its antagonist. The advanced sentinels along the lines had
already retired from their posts, and were hurrying towards the camp.
In the town could be heard the voices of the besieged, in solemn chorus
chaunting the psalm "_Venite exultemus Domine_," while shouts of "_Viva
Morelos_!" came from the opposite direction, and loud above all could be
heard the noted war-cry of the marshal, "_Aqui esta Galeana_!"
Almost at the same instant a double fusillade opened its formidable
dialogue from the two separate wings of the Spanish army. Trujano and
Morelos replied to it; one attacking in front, and the other upon the
rear. The hour of retaliation had come: the besiegers were now besieged
in their turn.
Meanwhile Morelos, having given orders to Galeana to direct the
movement, had posted himself upon a little hill; where, telescope in
hand, he stood watching the progress of the action.
After having coolly arranged his plan of attack, Trujano impetuously
launched himself upon the camp of Regules, at the same instant that
Galeana was advancing upon that of Caldelas.
On both sides the firing was of short duration. Neither the Marshal nor
Trujano were the men to remain long at a distance from their enemy; and
both, charging impetuously forward, brought their men hand to hand with
the Royalists.
Although inferior in numbers to their enemies, the _guerilleros_ of
Trujano made such a desperate attack upon the soldiers of Regules, that
the latter, unable to sustain the shock, were thrown for a moment into
confusion. Their general, however, succeeded in rallying them; and
Trujano, with his handful of men, was held for a time in check.
Meanwhile, Bonavia and Caldelas, having united their forces, were using
all their efforts to resist the desperate charges made by Galeana; who,
notwithstanding the impetuosity of his attack, found himself unable to
break through their line and form a junction with Trujano.
There are men in whose company it is impossible not to feel brave--or at
least have the appearance of it--especially when fighting by their side.
Trujano was one of this character. His ardent valour was contagious;
and alongside of him, Lantejas had no difficulty in sustaining his
reputation for courage.
Nevertheless, the battle seemed to the Captain to be hanging a long time
undecided; and he was growing fearfully troubled that the day would go
against them, when Trujano, wiping the perspiration from his forehead,
cried out to him--
"Captain Lantejas! I fear we shall never be able to break their line
with such a handful of men. Put spurs to your horse, and gallop round
till you find General Morelos. Ask him to reinforce me with two or
three battalions. Say that I have great need of them, and that the
success of the day depends upon it. Ride quickly; and I shall endeavour
to sustain the attack till your return. _Vaya! Capitan_!"
The aide-de-camp, on receiving the order, went off at a gallop, lance in
hand.
At the same instant an officer rode forth from the camp of Regules, on a
similar mission to the Commander-in-chief of the Spanish army. The
latter, however, succeeded in executing his commission more promptly
than Don Cornelio; and Bonavia hastened, notwithstanding the protest of
Caldelas, to send to Regules the reinforcement he had demanded.
"That man will be our ruin," said Caldelas to Tres-Villas, as the
battalions were drawn from his brigade.
Don Rafael, mounted upon his favourite steed, El Roncador, was at this
time making every effort to reach the Marshal, whose defiant war-cry, so
often pealing in their ears, was beginning to create terror among the
ranks of the Royalists.
"_Mil demonios_!" exclaimed Caldelas, "if Regules prove the cause of our
defeat, I shall blow out his brains, and afterwards my own!"
As the brigadier pronounced this threat, his soldiers, pressed by a
violent movement in front, commenced to give ground; and that which he
had foreseen was likely to be realised. His brigade, weakened by the
battalions sent as a reinforcement to Regules, was unable to withstand
the desperate charges of Galeana; and, in a minute or two after, his
troops broke line, fell back, and then scattered in full retreat.
Blinded by rage, Caldelas turned his horse, leaving to Don Rafael the
duty of collecting the dispersed soldiers, and, furiously plying the
spur, he galloped off towards the ground where Regules was still
contesting the issue with Trujano.
Meanwhile Don Cornelio was going at full speed on his message to
Morelos. He was not proceeding in a very direct line, however. Not
desiring to get again embroiled in the battle, he had resolved on making
a wide circuit round a vast field of maize, that extended along the edge
of the plain, and slightly elevated above it. Every now and then he
endeavoured to discover whether he was opposite the position held by
Morelos; but in this he was unsuccessful; for the blades of the maize
plants rising above his head hindered him from having a view over the
plain. He at length reached a crossroad; and, deeming that he had
ridden far enough to put him beyond the ground occupied by the Royalist
forces, he turned his horse along the road, still going at a gallop.
The combatants were hidden from his view by a thicket of low bushes that
skirted the side of the road. This, however, at length terminated
abruptly; and Don Cornelio, riding into the open ground, all at once
found himself in the presence of a large body of Spanish soldiers, who
appeared in front of him forming a semicircle of swords, bayonets, and
lances.
Terrified at the excess of his involuntary boldness, he turned his horse
upon the instant, and plunged back into the crossroad; but he had scarce
made three lengths of his horse in the back direction, when he saw
riding towards him a Spanish officer, who, pistol in hand, and with a
countenance red with rage, was uttering the most emphatic threats and
protestations. In another instant they must meet face to face.
The advancing horseman had his eyes fixed upon the field of battle; and,
although he did not appear to be aware of the approach of Don Cornelio,
the latter had no other belief than that he himself was the object of
the blasphemous menaces. If the Spaniard was not expressly searching
after him to kill him, why should he thus cut off his retreat by the
crossroad--the only direction that offered him a chance of escape?
Believing that the horseman was advancing to assail him, and suddenly
nerved by despair, the Captain, on his side, charged forward; and
delivering a vigorous thrust with the lance, he pierced his unsuspecting
antagonist through the body, striking him lifeless out of his saddle!
A cry of grief reached the ears of the ex-student, coming from another
part of the field; but not staying to see who had uttered it, he again
spurred his steed along the crossroad--determined this time to make a
detour sufficiently wide before heading towards the position of Morelos.
He had not gone far, however, when he heard a loud voice hailing him
from behind; while the hoarse snorting of a horse was mingled with the
cries--a snorting that resembled the roaring of a jaguar, and for that
reason awakened within him the most terrible souvenirs.
"It is surely the horse of the Apocalypse?" muttered the ex-student of
theology, while using every effort to maintain the distance that lay
between himself and this mysterious pursuer.
In order to gallop more freely, he had flung away the lance, and was now
plying the spurs with all the energy of a racing jockey; but still the
singular snorting appeared to grow louder, and the pursuer was evidently
gaining upon him.
To say the least, the situation of Captain Lantejas was becoming
critical--to judge by the fierce zeal exhibited by his pursuer. Perhaps
in all his life the ex-student had never been in a position of greater
peril than at that moment.
Just as he was about reaching the crossing of the roads, he heard close
behind him the breathing of the man who was in pursuit of him; and,
glancing over his shoulder, he saw the head of the animal he had termed
the horse of the Apocalypse--almost on a level with the croup of his
saddle.
In another moment, a vigorous hand seized him by the collar, that
lifting him out of his stirrups, dragged him backward, till he felt that
he was lying across the pummel of his adversary's saddle.
Don Cornelio now saw a poignard raised to strike, which flashed before
his sight like the sword of an archangel. He closed his eyes, believing
his last hour had come; when all at once the arm fell, and a voice cried
out--
"_Tomal_ Why it is Don Cornelio Lantejas!"
The ex-student reopened his eyes; and, looking up, recognised the young
officer in whose company he had journeyed, on his way to San Salvador,
whom he had afterwards met at the hacienda Las Palmas.