Suddenly Doña Mencia, throwing off her feminine character, hurriedly tore off the dress that covered her, removed her bonnet, and appeared in the masculine attire El Alferez had worn at the pulqueria. This transformation had been so rapid that the officers and crew had not recovered front the astonishment this strange metamorphosis caused them, when the young man, drawing a pistol from his belt, cocked and pointed it at a number of cartridges the boys had brought on deck when the Captain beat to quarters, and which they had left lying pell-mell at the foot of the mizzenmast during the disorder that followed the fall of the spars. "Surrender!" El Alferez shouted in a thundering voice; "Surrender, or you are dead men!" Don Cristoval and Don Serapio were standing on the right and left of the young man, holding a pistol in either hand. Ramirez, for his part, had lost no time; by his care two of the bow carronades had been dragged from their ports and trailed on the stern, and two sailors, match in hand, were standing motionless by them, only awaiting the signal to fire. Ramirez and the fourteen men left him were aiming at the Mexican sailors. The crew was taken between two fires; two hundred and fifty men were at the mercy of twenty. The position was desperate, and the Commandant had not even the resource of falling honourably. The events had occurred with such rapidity, this coup-de-main, prepared long beforehand, had been carried out with such coolness and skill, and all had been so thoroughly foreseen, that the Commandant, after taking a despairing glance along the deck, was obliged to allow that he had only one chance of escape--laying down his arms. Still he hesitated, however, and El Alferez understood the combat that was going on in the heart of the brave officer. "We are not pirates," he said, "Commandant Rodriguez, we are Texans; you can lay down your arms without shame--not to save your life, to which the defeat you have just suffered causes you to attach but slight value, and which you would doubtless readily sacrifice to expiate your misfortunes--but you are responsible before Heaven for the two hundred and fifty men forming your crew. Why needlessly shed precious blood! For the last time I invite you to surrender." At this moment a thick shadow covered the deck of the corvette; the brig, which everyone had forgotten, had continued to advance; it had come within pistol shot, and its lofty sails stretched out over the vessel and intercepted the sunshine. "Halloo the ship!" a voice shouted from the stern of the cruiser; "Send a boat aboard us with your captain."