There is in the rapidity with which all news spread, a mystery which has remained, up to the present, incomprehensible. It seems that an electric current bears them along at headlong speed, and takes a cruel pleasure in spreading them everywhere.

The most minute precautions had been taken by the Jaguar and El Alferez to keep their double expedition a secret, and hide their success until they had found time to make certain arrangements necessary to secure the results of their daring attempts. The means of communication were at that period, and still are, extremely rare and difficult. Only one man, Colonel Melendez, was at all cognizant of what had happened, and we have seen that it was impossible for him to have said anything. And yet, scarce two hours after the events we have described were accomplished, a vague rumour, which had come no one knew whence, already ran about the town.

This rumour, like a rising tide, swelled from instant to instant, and assumed gigantic proportions; for, as always happens under similar circumstances, the truth, buried in a mass of absurd and impossible details, disappeared almost entirely to make way for a monstrous collection of reports, each more absurd than the other, but which terrified the population, and plunged it into extreme anxiety.

Among other things, it was stated that the insurgents were advancing on the town with a formidable fleet of twenty-five ships, having on board ten thousand troops, amply provided with cannon and ammunition of every description. Nothing less was spoken of than the immediate bombardment of Galveston by the insurgents, large parties of whom, it was stated, were scouring the country to intercept all communication between the town and the mainland.

Terror never calculates or reasons. In spite of the material impossibility of the insurgents being able to collect so considerable a fleet and army, no one doubted the truth of the rumour, and the townspeople, with their eyes anxiously fixed on the sea, fancied in each gull whose wing flashed on the horizon, they saw the vanguard of the Texan fleet.

General Rubio was himself very much alarmed. If he did not place entire faith on these stupid rumours, still one of those secret forebodings, that never deceive, warned him that grave events were preparing, and would soon burst like a thundercloud over the town. The Colonel's prolonged absence, whose motive the General was ignorant of, added still further to his anxiety. Still the situation was too critical for the General not to try to escape from it by any means, or dispel the storm that was constantly menacing.

Unfortunately, through its position and commerce, Galveston is a thoroughly American town, and the Mexican element is found there in but very limited proportions. The General was perfectly aware that the North. Americans who represented the mercantile houses, sympathized with the revolution, and only waited for a favourable opportunity to raise the mask and declare themselves overtly. The Mexican population itself was not at all desirous of running the risk of a siege: it preferred to a contest, which is ever injurious to commercial interests, an arrangement, no matter its nature, which would protect them. Money has no country, and hence, politically regarded, the population of Galveston cared very little whether it was Texan or Mexican, provided that it was not ruined, which was the essential point.

In the midst of all this egotism and vexation, the General felt the more embarrassed, because he possessed but a very weak armed force, incapable of keeping the population in check, if they felt any desire to revolt. After vainly awaiting the Colonel's return till eleven o'clock, the General resolved to summon to his house the most influential merchants of the town, in order to consult with them on the means to protect individuals, and place the town in a posture of defence, were that possible. The merchants responded to the General's summons with an eagerness which, to any man less thoroughly acquainted with the American character, would have seemed a good omen, but which produced a diametrically opposite effect on the General. At about half-an hour after midnight, the General's saloon was crowded: some thirty merchants, the elite of Galveston, were collected there.

His Excellency, Don José Maria Rubio, was essentially a man of action, frank, loyal, and convinced that in all cases the best way of dealing is to go straight to the point. After the first compliments, he began speaking, and without any tergiversation or weakness, explained clearly and distinctly the state of their situation, and claimed the assistance of the notable inhabitants of the town to ward off the dangers that threatened it, promising, if that help were assured him, to hold out against the whole revolutionary army, and compel it to retire. The merchants were far from expecting such a requests which literally stunned them. For some minutes they knew not what answer to give; but at last, after consulting in whispers, the oldest and most influential of them undertook to reply in the names of all, and began speaking with that feigned frankness which forms the basis of the Anglo-American character – a frankness which conceals so much duplicity, and by which only those who are unacquainted with the inhabitants of the United States are at times entrapped.

This merchant, a native of Tennessee, had in his youth carried on nearly all those trades more or less acknowledgeable, by means of which men in the new world contrive in so short a time to raise the scaffoldings of a large fortune. Coming to Texas as a slave-dealer, he had gradually extended his trade; then he became a speculator, corn-dealer, and all sorts of things. In a word, he worked so well, that in less than ten years he was in possession of several millions. Morally, he was an old fox, without faith or law; a Greek by instinct, and a Jew by temperament. His name was Lionel Fisher; he was short and stout, and appeared scarce sixty years of age, although he was in reality close on seventy.

"Señor General," he said in an obsequious voice, after bowing with that haughty humility which distinguishes parvenus, "we are extremely pained by the sad news your excellency has thought it right to communicate to us, for none are more affected than ourselves by the calamities of our hapless country. We deplore in our hearts the situation into which Texas is suddenly cast, for we shall be the first assailed in our fortunes and affections. We should be glad to make the greatest sacrifices in order to prevent disasters and ward off the fearful catastrophe that menaces us. But, alas! What can we do? – nothing. In spite of our good will and warm desire to prove to your excellency that you possess all our sympathies, our hands are tied. Our assistance, far from helping the Mexican Government, would, on the contrary, injure it, because the populace and vagabonds who flock to all seaports, and who are in a majority at Galveston, delighted at having found a pretext for disorder, would immediately revolt, apparently to defend the insurrection, but in reality to plunder us. This consideration, therefore, compels us most reluctantly to remain neutral."

"Reflect, Señores," the General answered, "that the sacrifice I ask of you is but a trifle. Each of you will give me a thousand piastres; it is not too much, I suppose, to guarantee the security of your money and goods? For with the sum you collect, I pledge myself to preserve you from all harm by collecting a sufficient number of men to foil any expedition made against the town by the insurgents."

At this point-blank appeal the merchants made a frightful grimace, which the General did not appear to notice.

"The offering I claim from you at such a moment," he continued, "is not exorbitant; is it not just that in the hour of need you should come to the aid of a government under whose protection you have grown rich, and which, although it would have been perfectly justified in doing so, has, up to this day, demanded nothing from you?"

Caught in this dilemma, the merchants did not know what to answer. They were not all desirous to give their money in the defence of a cause which their secret efforts tended on the contrary to destroy, but when thus pressed by the General, their embarrassment was extreme; they did not dare openly to refuse, and wished still less to say yes. It is a singular fact, though perfectly true, that those men who have grown rich with the greatest facility, cling the most to their fortunes. Of all the natives of the New World, the North American is the one who most craves money. He professes a profound love for the precious metals; with him money is everything, and to gain it he would sacrifice relatives and friends without remorse and without pity. It is the North American who invented that egotistic and heartless proverb, which so thoroughly displays the character of the people, time is money. Ask what you will of a North American, and he will give it you, but do not try to burrow a dollar of him, for he will bluntly refuse, however great the obligations he owes you may be.

The great American bankruptcies which a few years back terrified the Old World by their cynical effrontery, edified us as to the commercial honesty of this country, which in its dealings never says, yes, and is so afraid of letting; its thoughts be penetrated, that even in the most frivolous conversations the people, through fear of compromising themselves by an affirmative, say at each sentence, "I suppose," "I believe," "I think."

General Rubio, who had been a long time in Texas, and accustomed to daily dealings with the Americans, was perfectly well aware in what way he should treat them, hence he was not at all disturbed by their embarrassed denials, their protestations of devotion, or their downcast faces. After leaving them a few moments for reflection, seeing that they could not make up their minds to answer him, he continued in his calmest voice and with his most pleasant air —

"I see, Señores, that the reasons I have had the honour of laying before you have not had the good fortune to convince you, and I am really vexed at it. Unfortunately, we are in one of those fatal crises where long deliberations are impossible. Ever since the President of the Republic appointed me Military Chief of this State, I have ever been anxious to satisfy you, and not make you feel too heavily the weight of the power entrusted to me, taking on myself on several occasions, to modify any harshness in the orders I received from high quarters with reference to you. I venture to believe that you will do me the justice of saying that you have always found me kind and complaisant toward you."

The merchants naturally burst into affirmations as the General continued.

"Unfortunately it can no longer be so. In the face of this obstinate and unpatriotic refusal you so peremptorily give me, I am, to my great regret, constrained to carry out literally the orders I have received, – orders that concern you, Señores, and whose tenor, I repeat, I find myself utterly unable to modify."

At this declaration, made in a sarcastic voice, the merchants began shivering; they understood that the General was about to take a brilliant revenge, although they did not know yet what was about to happen. For all that, they began to repent having accepted the invitation, and placed themselves so simply in the wolf's mouth. The General kept smiling, but the smile had something bitter and mocking in its expression, which was far from reassuring them. At this moment a clock, standing on a bracket, struck two.

"Caramba," said the General, "is it so late as that already? How quickly time passes in your agreeable company. Señores, we must wind up the business. I should be in despair if I kept you longer from your homes – the more so, as you must be desirous of rest."

"In truth," stammered the merchant who had hitherto spoken in the name of all, "whatever pleasure we feel at being here – "

"You would feel greater still at being elsewhere," the General interrupted, with a laugh; "I perfectly understand that, Don Lionel, hence I will not abuse your patience much longer. I only ask you for a few minutes more, and then I will set you at liberty, so be kind enough to sit down again."

The merchants obeyed, while exchanging a glance of despair on the sly. The General seemed on this night to be deaf and blind, for he saw and heard nothing. He struck a bell; at the summons a door opened, and an officer walked in.

"Captain Saldana," the General asked, "is all ready?"

"Yes, General," the Captain answered, with a respectful bow.

"Señores," the Governor continued, "I have received from the Mexican Government orders to lay on the rich merchants of this town a war tax of sixty thousand piastres in cash. As you are aware, Señores a soldier can only obey. Still, I had taken on myself to reduce this contribution by one-half, desiring, as far as in me lay, to prove to you up to the last moment, the interest I take in you. You would not understand me; I am vexed at it, but nothing is now left me save obedience. Here is the order," he added, as he took a paper from the table and unfolded it, "it is peremptory; still, I am ready to grant you five minutes to make up your minds; but when that period has elapsed, I shall be compelled to do my duty, and you are sufficiently well acquainted with me, Señores, to know that I shall do it at all hazards."

"But, General," the old merchant hazarded, "your Excellency will permit me to observe, that the sum is enormous."

"Nonsense, Señores; there are thirty of you – it only amounts to two thousand piastres per head, which is only a trifle to you. I made you an offer to knock off half, but you were not willing."

"Business has been very flat for some years, and money is becoming excessively scarce."

"To whom do you say that, Don Lionel? I fancy I am better aware of that fact than anybody else."

"Perhaps if you were to grant us a delay of a month or a fortnight, by collecting all our resources and making enormous sacrifices, we might manage to scrape together one-half the amount."

"Unfortunately, I cannot even grant you an hour."

"In that case, General, it is impossible."

"Nonsense! I feel certain that you have not reflected. Besides, that is no affair of mine: in asking you for this money, I carry out the orders I have received, it is for your to judge whether you will consent or not. I, personally, am completely out of the affair."

"Really, General," the old merchant continued, deceived, in spite of all his craft, by the Governor's tone, "really, it is impossible for us to pay the smallest amount."

All bowed in affirmation, supporting the remarks of their spokesman.

"Very good," the General continued, still in a coolly mocking tone, "that is clearly understood, then. Still, you will not, I trust, render me responsible for the consequences which this refusal may entail on you."

"Oh, General, you cannot suppose that!"

"Thanks. You heard, Captain?" he added, turning to the officer, who was standing motionless by the door; "order in the detachment."

"Yes, General."

And the officer quitted the room. The merchants gave a start of terror, for this mysterious order caused them to reflect seriously, and their anxiety became the greater, when they heard the clang of arms in the patios, and the heavy footfalls of approaching troops.

"What is the meaning of this, General?" they cried in terror, "Can we have fallen into a trap?"

"What do you mean?" the General said. "Oh, I beg your pardon, but I forgot to communicate to you the end of this order, which concerns you particularly, however, that will be soon done. I am instructed to have all persons shot, who refuse to subscribe to the loan demanded by the government, in order to get over the serious embarrassments the malcontents occasion it."

At the same instant, the doors were thrown wide open, and a detachment of fifty men silently surrounded the American merchants. The latter were more dead than alive – they fancied they were having a frightful dream, or suffering from a horrible nightmare. Certain that the General would not hesitate to execute the threat he had made them, the merchants did not know how to get out of the scrape. The Governor himself had made no change in his demeanour – his face was still gracious, and his voice gentle.

"Come, Señors," he said, "pray accept my heartfelt sympathy. Captain, lead away these gentlemen, and treat them with all the kindness their sad position claims."

He then bowed, and prepared to leave the room.

"One moment," the old merchant said, quite appalled by the approach of death; "are there no means of settling this business, General?"

"I only know one – paying."

"I am well aware of that," he said with a sigh; "but, alas! we are ruined."

"What can I do? You know, and yourselves allowed, that I am quite unconnected with this unhappy affair."

"Alas," the poor merchants exclaimed in chorus, "you will not kill us, surely, General; we are fathers of families, what will become of our wives and children?"

"I pity you, but, unfortunately, can do no more than that."

"General," they cried, falling at his knees, "in the name of what you hold dearest, have pity on us, we implore you."

"I am really in despair at what has occurred, and should like to come to your aid; unhappily I do not see my way, and then, again, you do nothing to help me."

"Alas!" they repeated, sobbing and clasping their hands desperately.

"I am well aware that you have not the money, and there is the insurmountable difficulty, believe me. However, let us see," he added, apparently reflecting.

The poor devils, who felt themselves so near death, looked at him with eyes sparkling with hope. There was a rather lengthened silence, during which you might have heard the heart throbs of these men, who knew that life and death depended on the man who held them panting under his eye.

"Listen," he continued, "this is all I can do for you, and believe me, that, in acting thus, I assume an enormous responsibility; there are thirty of you, I think?"

"Yes, Excellency," they exclaimed unanimously.

"Well, only ten of you shall be shot. You shall select them yourselves, and those you designate will be immediately led into the patio and executed. But now ask me for nothing further, as I shall be constrained to refuse you; and that you may have time to make your selection carefully, I grant you ten minutes."

This was a proof of incontestable cleverness on the part of the General. By breaking, through this decision, the agreement that had hitherto prevailed among the merchants, by opposing them to one another, he was certain of obtaining the result which, without, he would probably not have secured. For we prefer to suppose, for the honour of the General, whose career up to this day had been so free from excesses, and acts of this nature, that the threat of death was only a mode employed to cause these men, whom he knew to be opposed to the government he represented, into undoing their purse strings, and that he would not have been so cruel as to carry matters to extremities, and shoot in cold blood thirty of the most respectable townsmen.

Whatever General Rubio's intentions might have been, however, the Americans believed him, and acted accordingly. After two or three minutes' hesitation, the merchants came one after the other, to give their consent to the loan. But their tergiversation had cost them a thousand dollars a-piece. It was dear, hence we must allow that they consented with very ill grace. But the soldiers were there ready to obey the slightest sign from their chief; the muskets were loaded, and the patio two paces off. There was no chance of getting out of it.

Still, the General did not let them off so cheaply. The Americans were led home one after the other by four soldiers and an officer, whose instructions were to shoot the prisoner at the slightest attempted escape, and it was not till the General had the two thousand piastres in his hands that a second prisoner was sent home in the same fashion. This went on until the whole sum was collected, and the only persons remaining in the saloon were the General and old Lionel.

"Oh, Excellency!" he said, reproachfully, "How is it possible that you, who have hitherto been so kind to us, could have had the thought of committing such an act of cruelty?"

The General burst out laughing.

"Do you imagine I would have done it?" he said, with a shrug of his shoulder.

The merchant struck his forehead with a gesture of despair.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "We were idiots."

"Hang it, did you have such a bad opinion of me? Caramba, Señor, I do not commit such acts as that."

"Ah," the merchant said, with a laugh, "I have not paid yet."

"Which means?"

"That now I know what I have to expect. I shall not pay."

"Really, I believed you cleverer than that."

"Why so?"

"What? You do not understand that a man may hesitate to execute thirty persons, but when it comes to only one man, who, like yourself, has a great number of misdeeds on his conscience, his execution is considered an act of justice, and carried out without hesitation?"

"Then, you would shoot me?"

"Without the slightest remorse."

"Come, come, General, you are decidedly stronger than I am."

"You flatter me, Señor Lionel."

"No, I tell you what I think; it was cleverly played."

"You are a judge."

"Thanks," he answered, with a modest smile. "To spare you the trouble of having me executed, I will execute myself," he added, good temperedly, as he felt his coat pocket.

He drew out a pocketbook crammed with Bank of England notes, and made up the sum of two thousand piastres, which he laid on the table.

"I have now only to thank you," the General said, as he picked up the notes.

"And I you, Excellency," he answered.

"Why so?"

"Because you have given me a lesson by which I shall profit when the occasion offers."

"Take care, Señor Lionel," the General said, meaningly; "you will not, perhaps, come across a man so good-natured as myself."

The merchant restored the portfolio to his pocket, bowed to the General, and went out. It was three o'clock; all had been finished in less than an hour; it was quick work.

"Poor scamps, after all, those gringos," the General said, when he was alone; "oh, if we had not to deal with mountaineers and campesinos we should soon settle this population."

"General," said an aide-de-camp, as he opened the door, "Colonel Melendez asks whether you will deign to receive him, in spite of the late hour?"

"Is Colonel Melendez here?" the General asked in surprise.

"He has this instant arrived, General; can he come in?"

"Of course; show him in at once."

In a few minutes the Colonel appeared.

"Here you are at last," the General cried, as he went to meet him; "I fancied you were either dead or a prisoner."

"It was a tossup that one of the two events did not happen."

"Oh, oh! Then you have something serious to tell me."

"Most serious, General."

"Hang it, my friend, take a chair and let us talk."

"Before all, General," the Colonel remarked, "do you know our position?"

"What do you mean?"

"Only, General, that you may possibly be ignorant of certain events that have happened."

"I think I have heard grave events rumoured, though I do not exactly know what has happened."

"Listen, then! The Libertad corvette is in the hands of the insurgents."

"Impossible!" the General exclaimed, bounding in his chair.

"General," the young officer said, in a mournful voice, "I have to inform you of something more serious still."

"Pardon me, my friend, perhaps I am mistaken, but it seems to me highly improbable that you could have obtained such positive news during the pleasure trip you have been making."

"Not only, General, have the insurgents seized the Libertad, but they have also made themselves masters of the Fort of the Point."

"Oh!" the General shouted, as he rose passionately, "this time, Colonel, you are badly informed; the Fort of the Point is impregnable."

"It was taken in an hour by thirty Freebooters, commanded by the Jaguar."

The General hid his face in his hands, with an expression of despair impossible to render.

"Oh! It is too much at once," he exclaimed.

"That is not all," the Colonel continued, sharply.

"What have you to tell me more terrible than what you have just said?"

"A thing that will make you leap with rage and blush with shame, General."

The old soldier laid his hand on his heart, as if wishful to arrest its hurried beating, and then said to the Colonel, in a tone of supreme resignation —

"Speak, my friend; I am ready to hear all."

The Colonel remained silent for some minutes; the despair of the brave old soldier made him shiver.

"General," he said, "perhaps it would be better to defer till tomorrow what I have to say to you; you appear fatigued, and a few hours, more or less, are not of much consequence."

"Colonel Melendez," the General said, giving the young officer a searching glance, "under present circumstances a minute is worth an age. I order you to speak."

"The insurgents request a parley," the Colonel said, distinctly.

"To parley with me?" the General answered, with an almost imperceptible tinge of irony in his voice. "These Caballeros do me a great honour. And what about, pray?"

"As they think themselves capable of seizing Galveston, they wish to avoid bloodshed by treating with you."

The General rose, and walked sharply up and down the room for some minutes. At length he stopped before the Colonel.

"And what would you do in my place?"

"I should treat," the young officer replied, unhesitatingly.