CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
A DEED A LA CORTEZ.
Notwithstanding the alarm given by the schooner, the barges of Galeanafound no difficulty in effecting a landing upon the isle--but on theopposite side to that where the war vessel lay. The stormy nightfavoured the attempt; the garrison of La Roqueta not dreaming that onsuch a night any attack would be made upon the fort.
Lantejas still remained unconscious; and, when at last he came to hissenses, he found himself on land, the branches of tall trees extendingover him, through which the wind was whistling with all the fury of atempest. The rustling of the leaves was the sweetest melody he had everheard: since it told him he was once more on _terra firma_--though atthe same time the thunder rolling around appeared to shake thefoundations of the isle.
On awakening to consciousness, he looked around him. He saw menreclining, or sitting in groups--most of them with arms in their hands.He recognised them as the people of the expedition.
Costal, asleep, was lying upon the ground close at hand.
"Where are we, Costal?" inquired Lantejas, after rousing the Indian fromhis slumber.
"Where? _Por Dios_! where should we be, but on the isle of Roqueta?"
"But how did we get ashore?"
"Easily enough, Senor Capitan. We had no opposition to contend against.Not one of the Spanish garrison suspects our presence here; for whowould think of sixty men venturing to sea on such a night as this? Weshall take the enemy completely by surprise."
"And what hinders the Marshal from attacking them now?"
"We have not yet found them. We neither know where the fort is, norwhere we are ourselves. Don't you see that the night is as dark as theinside of a cannon, and one can't make out his finger before him?They're safe enough while this storm lasts; and, by good luck, so arewe."
It was in truth to the storm that the Mexicans owed their presentsecurity. Few in numbers, and ignorant of the locality in which theyhad landed, an attack by the troops of the garrison might have provedfatal to them. Thanks to the tempestuous character of the night, theyhad not only found an opportunity of debarking on the isle, but time tomature their plans for assaulting the fort.
It was now about four in the morning, and the wind, still blowing withall its fury, was causing the large waves to roll up against the beach,threatening to break the cables by which the barges were moored to theshore. Don Cornelio cast glances of fear upon that mighty ocean that,but a few hours before, had come so near engulfing him within its darkdepths.
While he sat with his face turned seaward, his eye fell upon the figureof a man who was passing from the spot where the groups were scattereddownward to the beach. This man having approached the place where thebarges were moored, for some moments appeared to be occupied with them,as if looking to their security. This was Don Cornelio's firstimpression on seeing the figure bending over the cables; but the momentafter, the blade of a knife glancing in the man's fingers, was revealedby a flash of lightning; and this gave a sudden turn to the captain'sthoughts.
"What is he about to do?" inquired he of Costal, at the same timepointing out the individual so mysteriously occupied about the barges.
"_Carrambo_! he is cutting the cables!" cried the Indian, springing tohis feet, and rushing towards the boats, followed by Don Cornelio.
On drawing nearer the beach, both recognised, under the pale reflectionof the foaming waves, the Marshal himself--Don Hermenegildo Galeana!
"Ah! Captain Lantejas, it is you!" cried the Marshal as theyapproached. "Good. I want you to lend me a hand here in cutting thesehawsers: they are hard as iron chains."
"Cut the hawsers!" echoed the astonished captain. "And what, General,if we are compelled to retreat before a superior force?"
"That's just what I wish to provide against," replied Don Hermenegildo,laughing. "Some people fight but poorly when they know they may runaway; and I wish our people to fight well."
Don Cornelio saw it was no use to attempt remonstrance with thechivalric Galeana, and both he and Costal went to work to assist theMarshal in his daring design.
"All right, comrades!" cried Don Hermenegildo, as soon as the threehawsers were parted; "it only remains for us to get the signal rocketsout of the boats, and then let them go to sea of themselves."
So saying, the energetic leader stepped aboard one of the barges, seizedhold of the rocket case, and, assisted by Costal and Don Cornelio,carried it on shore. Then, giving each of the boats a shove from thebeach, the Marshal had the satisfaction--not shared by the Captain,however--of seeing all three of them the next moment carried far awayfrom the shore, and still tossing seaward on the crests of the foamingwaves! Retreat was no longer possible. The people of the expeditionmust either conquer or succumb.
"Now, Captain Lantejas," said the Marshal, addressing Don Cornelio, "youhad better go and get some sleep. You have need of rest, after what youhave passed through. I shall cause you to be awakened in good time.Meanwhile Costal will make a reconnaissance, to discover, if possible,the whereabouts of our enemy. By daybreak both the fort and schoonermust be ours."
With this finish to the conversation, Don Hermenegildo folded his cloakaround him and walked away. Costal and the captain returned to thetemporary encampment among the trees. There the Indian, withoutcommunicating his thoughts to his companion, silently divested himselfof the little remnant of clothing that remained to him, and glided offamong the bushes--like a jaguar advancing through the underwood tosurprise the gaunt alligator on the bank of some solitary lagoon.