Mexico -- History -- Wars of Independence, 1810-1821 -- Fiction
At this moment a rocket shooting up into the dark sky inspired the
castaway with fresh hope; and he once more raised his voice, and shouted
with all the concentrated power of throat and lungs. After delivering
the cry, he remained in breathless expectation, equally concentrating
all his strength in the act of listening.
This time a responsive cry came back--a sound all the more joyful to his
ears from his recognising it as the voice of Costal.
Don Cornelio now repeated his cries, thick and fast after each other,
until his throat and jaws almost refused to give out the slightest
sound. Nevertheless he kept on shouting, until one of the barges,
bounding over the waves, forged close up to the side of the canoe. Then
he felt himself seized by strong arms--they were those of Costal and
Galeana--and the moment after he was lifted into the boot, where, like
the ex-pearl-diver, but from a very different cause, he fell fainting
upon the deck.
It was fortunate for Don Cornelio that Costal had remained only a short
time under the influence of his syncope. Recovering from it, the Indian
had, in a few words, revealed the situation of the canoe. The signal
agreed upon was at once made; and led, as described, to the rescue of
his companion from his perilous position.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
A DEED A LA CORTEZ.
Notwithstanding the alarm given by the schooner, the barges of Galeana
found no difficulty in effecting a landing upon the isle--but on the
opposite side to that where the war vessel lay. The stormy night
favoured the attempt; the garrison of La Roqueta not dreaming that on
such a night any attack would be made upon the fort.
Lantejas still remained unconscious; and, when at last he came to his
senses, he found himself on land, the branches of tall trees extending
over him, through which the wind was whistling with all the fury of a
tempest. The rustling of the leaves was the sweetest melody he had ever
heard: since it told him he was once more on _terra firma_--though at
the same time the thunder rolling around appeared to shake the
foundations of the isle.
On awakening to consciousness, he looked around him. He saw men
reclining, or sitting in groups--most of them with arms in their hands.
He recognised them as the people of the expedition.
Costal, asleep, was lying upon the ground close at hand.
"Where are we, Costal?" inquired Lantejas, after rousing the Indian from
his slumber.
"Where? _Por Dios_! where should we be, but on the isle of Roqueta?"
"But how did we get ashore?"
"Easily enough, Senor Capitan. We had no opposition to contend against.
Not one of the Spanish garrison suspects our presence here; for who
would think of sixty men venturing to sea on such a night as this? We
shall take the enemy completely by surprise."
"And what hinders the Marshal from attacking them now?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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