Making his appearance suddenly in the hall, the good priest first stilled the tumult by holding up his crucifix, and then begged to lay before the Junta a proposition which would suit all parties. It would never do, said the Padre, to depose Don Francisco. The pretext for war, alleged by Xuarez, was that Gomez ought to be deposed for breaking the Constitution of Cholacaca. They knew that His Excellency had not done so; that he had loyally upheld the freedom and laws of the Republic. If deposed by his own party, such a deposition would give colour to Xuarez's assertion that he had right on his side, and perhaps prejudice the inland towns in his favour. Better it would be to let Don Francisco still remain President till the date of the expiration of his office, four months hence, and in the meantime entrust the conduct of the war solely to Don Miguel Maraquando. By this arrangement his Excellency would still continue nominal head of Cholacaca, and the war could be conducted by Maraquando, without the responsibility resting on the President. This proposition, seeming to be the only possible solution of the problem, was unanimously accepted by both parties. It is true that Gomez, who hated Maraquando like poison, sorely grudged giving up the command of affairs to his rival; but as he saw that the Junta wished it to be so, he was forced to yield. Don Miguel was, therefore, elected General of the army of the Republic, and Don Francisco was permitted to retain the civil rule. Then the meeting broke up, and Maraquando went off to take measures for the immediate relief of Chichimec, while Gomez, much mortified at the slight he had received, retired sullenly to his palace. "What's the matter, Tim?" asked Jack, as they left the Palacio Nacional. "You ought to be pleased at witnessing such a stirring scene, instead of which you are like a bear with a sick head." "And haven't I a cause?" replied Tim, gruffly. "Look at all this shindy going on, and I can't send a telegram to my paper." "Oh, that's it, is it? Well, then, ask Philip to lend you _The Bohemian_, and go off to Truxillo at once." "Begad, that isn't a bad idea anyhow," cried Tim, stopping suddenly; "but I don't want to leave Tlatonac just now." "Well, you may be pretty certain Philip won't go, nor I. Why not send Peter? Write out your news here. Peter will take it, and old Benker will look after the yacht." "How far is it to Truxillo?" "A trifle over three hundred miles." "Do you think Philip will lend me the yacht?" "I'm sure he will. Let us ask him at once. He is flirting with Doña Eulalia in Maraquando's patio." Tim, who had quite recovered his spirits at Jack's happy suggestion, started off at once to the Casa Maraquando. There was no necessity, however, for them to go so far, for they met their friend coming down the Calle Otumba. He hailed them at once. "Tim! Jack! come along to the Puerta de la Culebra. News from Chichimec."