On that same day in which the council of war was held in the Spanish camp, Trujano had ordered a mass to be performed--specially devoted to prayer for the return of his messenger. It was in the evening, the hour succeeding twilight, that this mass was held; and all the population of the town, including the soldiers, was assembled in the public piazza, which was illuminated by torches of _ocote_, although the moon was shining brilliantly above. A church, whose dome was shattered with bombs, and rows of houses in ruins, surrounded the square. The temple in which the offering was made was the Piazza itself, and the roof was the starry canopy of the sky. There, under the red glare of the torches, might be seen the assembled people of Huajapam; the priests who assisted at the ceremony in their robes, covering a military garb underneath; the women, children, and aged, grouped around the walls of the houses; the soldiers, in ragged uniforms, with guns in hand; and the wounded seated upon doorsteps with bloody bandages--having dragged themselves thither to take part in the sacred ceremonial. Profound silence reigned throughout the Piazza. On the appearance of a man who advanced into the centre of the square, his countenance calm, and his eye beaming with religious enthusiasm, every head was uncovered, or bent in obeisance. This man was Trujano. Stopping in the midst of the multitude, he made sign that he was about to address them. The silence, if possible, became more profound. "Children!" he commenced in a sonorous voice, "the Scripture saith, `except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.' Let us pray, then, to the God of battles to watch with us!" All bent down at the summons, the speaker kneeling in their midst. "This evening," said he, "we celebrate mass for a special purpose. Let us pray for our messenger; let us pray to God to protect him on his journey, and grant him a safe return. Let us sing praises to that God, who has hitherto preserved from evil the children who have trusted in Him!" The speaker then intoned the verse of the well-known psalm-- "His truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid of the terror by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noon day." After each verse of the psalm, the people repeated-- "Lord have compassion upon us! Lord have mercy upon us!" The devout Colonel, as if he expected that God would show him some signal mark of his favour, in more emphatic tone chanted the verse-- "I will deliver him because he hath known My name; I will protect him because he hath loved Me." And as if in reality the Divine interpretation had been granted, the messenger at that moment appeared entering the Piazza! The man had seen Morelos, and brought back the glad news that the insurgent general would instantly place his army _en route_ for the relief of Huajapam.