The Free Lances: A Romance of the Mexican ValleyReid, Mayne
History
The Free Lances: A Romance of the Mexican Valley
Reid, Mayne
Mexico -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
The carriage, as yet not over a hundred yards from the _garita_, still
going on at a rather moderate pace, was seen suddenly to increase its
speed: in fact, the horses had started off at a gallop! Nor was this
from any scare or fright, but caused by a sharp cut or two of the whip,
as he could tell by seeing the arm of the big man on the box several
times raised above the roof, and vigorously lowered again.
Extraordinary behaviour on his part; how was it to be accounted for?
And how explain that of the gentleman inside, who appeared satisfied
with the changed pace? At all events they were doing naught to prevent
it, for again and again the whip strokes were repeated. None of the
party were intoxicated; at least they had no appearance of it when they
passed the gate. A little excited-looking, though no more than might be
expected in men returning from a public procession. But an elegant
light equipage with horses in full gallop, so unlike the carriage of a
Cabinet Minister! What the mischief could it mean?
The guard-sergeant had just asked himself the question, when, hark! a
gun fired at the citadela! Soon after another from the military college
of Chapultepec! And from the direction of the Plaza Grande the ringing
of bells. First those of the Cathedral, then of the Acordada, and the
convent of San Francisco, with other convents and churches, till there
was a clangour all over the city!
Hark again! A second gun from the citadel, quickly followed by another
from Chapultepec, evidently signals and their responses!
"What the _demonio_ is it? A _pronunciamento_?" Not only did the
sergeant thus interrogate, but all the soldiers under his command,
putting the question to one another. It would be nothing much to
surprise them, least of all himself. He was somewhat of a veteran, and
had seen nigh a score of revolutions, counting _ententes_.
"I shouldn't be surprised if it is," he suggested, adding, as a third
gun boomed out from the citadel; "it must be a _grito_!"
"Who's raising it this time, I wonder?" said one of the soldiers, all
now in a flurry of excited expectancy.
Several names of noted _militarios_ were mentioned at a venture; but no
one could say for certain, nor even give a guess with any confidence.
They could hardly yet realise its being the breaking out of a
_pronunciamento_, since there had been no late tampering with them--the
usual preliminary to revolutions.
It might not be, after all. But they would be better able to decide
should they hear the rattle of small arms, and for this listened they
all ears.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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