Tell Von Ritter," he continued, turning to me, "not to expose his men,
but to harass the enemy, and hold him until I come." His tone was
easy, confident, and assured. Even as I listened to his command I
marvelled at the rapidity with which his mind worked, how he rose to
an unexpected situation, and met unforeseen difficulties.

"That is all," he said. "I will expect the men here in half an hour."

He turned from me calmly. As he re-entered the palace between the
lines of the guard he saluted as punctiliously as though he were on
his way to luncheon.

But no one else shared in his calmness. The bursting shells had driven
the people from their houses, and they were screaming through the
streets, as though an earthquake had shaken the city. Even the palace
was in an uproar.

The scout, as he entered it, shouting for the President's horse, had
told the story to our men, and they came running to the great doors,
fastening their accoutrements as they ran. Outside, even as Laguerre
had been speaking, the people had gathered in a great circle,
whispering and gesticulating, pointing at us, at the dying horse, at
the shells that swung above us, at the flag of Alvarez which floated
from Pecachua. When I spurred my horse forward, with the scout at my
side, there was a sullen silence. The smiles, the raised hats, the
cheers were missing, and I had but turned my back on them when a voice
shouted, "Viva Alvarez!"

I swung in my saddle, and pulled out my sword. I thought it was only
the bravado of some impudent fellow who needed a lesson.