meanwhile the president and his two followers pursued their way through the city. many people were moving about the streets, and here and there dark figures gathered in groups. the impression that great events were impending grew; the very air was sultry and surcharged with whisperings. the barricade, which was being built outside savrola's house, had convinced molara that a rising was imminent; half a mile from the palace the way was blocked by another. three carts had been stopped and drawn across the street, and about fifty men were working silently to strengthen the obstruction: some pulled up the flat paving-stones; others were carrying mattresses and boxes filled with earth from the adjacent houses; but they paid little attention to the president's party. he turned up his collar and pressing his felt hat well down on his face clambered over the barrier,—the significance of what he saw filling his mind; the subaltern indeed in his undress uniform drew some curious looks, but no attempt was made to stop his progress. these men waited for the signal.
all this time molara said not a word. with the approach of danger he made great efforts to regain his calmness, that he might have a clear head to meet it; but for all his strength of will, his hatred of savrola filled his mind to the exclusion of everything else. as he reached the palace the revolt broke out all over the city. messenger after messenger hurried up with evil news. some of the regiments had refused to fire on the people; others were fraternising with them; everywhere barricades grew and the approaches to the palace were on all sides being closed. the revolutionary leaders had gathered at the mayoralty. the streets were placarded with the proclamation of the provisional government. officers from various parts of the town hastened to the palace; some were wounded, many agitated. among them was sorrento, who brought the terrible news that an entire battery of artillery had surrendered their guns to the rebels. by half-past three it was evident, from the reports which were received by telegram and messenger, that the greater part of the city had passed into the hands of the revolutionaries with very little actual fighting.
the president bore all with a calmness which revealed the full strength of his hard, stern character. he had, in truth, a terrible stimulant. beyond the barricades and the rebels who lined them was the mayoralty and savrola. the face and figure of his enemy was before his eyes; everything else seemed of little importance. yet he found in the blinding emergency an outlet for his fury, a counter-irritant for his grief; to crush the revolt, but above all to kill savrola, was his heart's desire.
"we must wait for daylight," he said.
"and what then, sir?" asked the war-minister.
"we will then proceed to the mayoralty and arrest the leaders of this disturbance."
the rest of the night was spent in organising a force with which to move at dawn. a few hundred faithful soldiers (men who had served with molara in the former war), seventy officers of the regular army, whose loyalty was unquestionable, and the remaining battalion of the guard with a detachment of armed police, were alone available. this band of devoted men, under fourteen hundred in number, collected in the open space in front of the palace-gates, and guarded the approaches while they waited for sunrise.
they were not attacked. "secure the city," had been savrola's order, and the rebels were busily at work on the barricades, which in a regular system rose on all sides. messages of varied import continued to reach the president. louvet, in a hurried note, expressed his horror at the revolt, and explained how much he regretted being unable to join the president at the palace. he had to leave the city in great haste, he said; a relative was dangerously ill. he adjured molara to trust in providence; for his part he was confident that the revolutionaries would be suppressed.
the president in his room read this with a dry, hard laugh. he had never put the slightest faith in louvet's courage, having always realised that in a crisis he would be useless and a coward. he did not blame him; the man had his good points, and as a public official in the home-office he was admirable; but war was not his province.
he passed the letter to miguel. the secretary read it and reflected. he also was no soldier. it was evident that the game was up, and there was no need for him to throw his life away, merely out of sentiment as he said to himself. he thought of the part he had played in the drama of the night. that surely gave him some claims; it would be possible at least to hedge. he took a fresh piece of paper and began to write. molara paced the room. "what are you writing?" he asked.
"an order to the commandant of the harbour-forts," replied miguel promptly, "to acquaint him with the situation and tell him to hold his posts in your name at all hazards."
"it is needless," said molara; "either his men are traitors or they are not."
"i have told him," said miguel quickly, "to make a demonstration towards the palace at dawn, if he can trust his men. it will create a diversion."
"very well," said molara wearily; "but i doubt it ever reaching him, and he has so few men that could be spared after the forts are held adequately."
an orderly entered with a telegram. the clerk at the office, a loyalist, an unknown man of honour, had brought it himself, passing the line of barricades with extraordinary good-fortune and courage. while the president tore the envelope open, miguel rose and left the room. outside in the brilliantly lighted passage he found a servant, terrified but not incapable. he spoke to the man quickly and in a low voice; twenty pounds, the mayoralty, at all costs, were the essentials of his instructions. then he re-entered the office.
"look here," said molara; "it is not all over yet." the telegram was from brienz, near lorenzo: clear the line. strelitz and force two thousand rebels advanced on the black gorge this afternoon. i have repulsed them with heavy loss. strelitz is prisoner. am pursuing remainder. i await instructions at turga. "this must be published at once," he said. "get a thousand copies printed, and have them circulated among the loyalists and as far as possible in the city."
the news of the victory was received with cheers by the troops gathered in the palace-square, and they waited with impatience for morning. at length the light of day began to grow in the sky, and other lights, the glow of distant conflagrations, paled. the president, followed by sorrento, a few officers of high rank, and his aide-de-camp tiro, descended the steps, traversed the courtyard and passing through the great gates of the palace, entered the square where the last reserves of his power were assembled. he walked about and shook hands right and left with these faithful friends and supporters. presently his eye caught sight of the rebel proclamation which some daring hand had placed on the wall under cover of the darkness. he walked up and read it by the light of a lantern. savrola's style was not easy to mistake. the short crisp sentences of the appeal to the people to take up arms rang like a trumpet-call. across the placard a small red slip, such as are used on theatrical advertisements to show the time of the performance, had been posted at a later hour. it purported to be the facsimile of a telegram and ran thus: forced black gorge this morning. dictator's troops in full retreat. am marching on lorenzo. strelitz.
molara quivered with fury. savrola did not neglect details, and threw few chances away. "infamous liar!" was the president's comment; but he realised the power of the man he sought to crush, and for a moment despair welled in his heart and seemed to chill his veins. he shook the sensation off with a great effort.
the officers were already in possession of the details of the plan, whose boldness was its main recommendation. the rebels had succeeded in launching their enterprise; the government would reply by a coup d'état. in any case the stroke was aimed at the heart of the revolt, and if it went home the results would be decisive. "the octopus of rebellion, gentlemen," said the president to those around him, and pointing to the revolutionary proclamation, "has long arms. it will be necessary to cut off his head." and though all felt the venture to be desperate, they were brave men and knew their minds.
the distance from the palace to the mayoralty was nearly a mile and a half along a broad but winding avenue; by this avenue, and by the narrower streets on either side, the force advanced silently in three divisions. the president marched on foot with the centre column; sorrento took command of the left, which was the threatened flank. slowly, and with frequent halts to keep up communication with each other, the troops marched along the silent streets. not a soul was to be seen: all the shutters of the houses were closed, all the doors fastened; and though the sky grew gradually brighter in the east, the city was still plunged in gloom. the advanced files pressed forward up the avenue, running from tree to tree, and pausing cautiously at each to peer through the darkness. suddenly as they rounded a bend, a shot rang out in front. "forward!" cried the president. the bugles sounded the charge and the drums beat. in the dim light the outline of a barricade was visible two hundred yards off, a dark obstruction across the roadway. the soldiers shouted and broke into a run. the defenders of the barricade, surprised, opened an ineffective fire and then, seeing that the attack was in earnest and doubtful of its strength, beat a retreat while time remained. the barricade was captured in a moment, and the assailants pressed on elated by success. behind the barricade was a cross street, right and left. firing broke out everywhere, and the loud noise of the rifles echoed from the walls of the houses. the flanking columns had been sharply checked at their barricades, but the capture of the centre position turned both of these, and their defenders, fearing to be cut off, fled in disorder.
it was now daylight, and the scene in the streets was a strange one. the skirmishers darted between the trees, and the little blue-white puffs of smoke spotted the whole picture. the retiring rebels left their wounded on the ground, and these the soldiers bayoneted savagely. shots were fired from the windows of the houses and from any shelter that offered,—a lamp-post, a pillar-box, a wounded man, an overturned cab. the rifle-fire was searching, and the streets were very bare. in their desire to get cover, to get behind something, both sides broke into the houses and dragged out chairs, tables, and piles of bedding; and though these were but little protection from the bullets, men felt less naked behind them.
all this time the troops were steadily advancing, though suffering continual loss; but gradually the fire of the rebels grew hotter. more men were hurried to the scene each moment; the pressure on the flanks became severe; the enveloping enemy pressed in down the side streets, to hold which the scanty force at the president's disposal had to be further weakened. at length the rebels ceased to retreat; they had reached their guns, four of which were arranged in a row across the avenue.
the mayoralty was now but a quarter of a mile away, and molara called on his soldiers for a supreme effort. a dashing attempt to carry the guns with the bayonet was defeated with a loss of thirty killed and wounded, and the government troops took shelter in a side street at right angles to the main avenue. this in turn was enfiladed by the enemy, who swept round the columns and began to cut in on their line of retreat.
firing was now general along a wide half-circle. in the hope of driving the improvised artillery-men from their places, the troops forced their way into the houses on either side of the avenue, and climbing along the roofs began to fire down on their adversaries. but the rebels, repeating the manoeuvre, met them and the attempt dwindled into desperate but purposeless fighting among the chimney-pots and the skylights.
the president exposed himself manfully. moving from one part of the force to another, he animated his followers by his example. tiro, who kept close to him, had seen enough war to realise that the check was fatal to their chances. every moment was precious; time was slipping away, and the little force was already almost completely encircled. he had taken a rifle and was assisting to burst in the door of a house, when to his astonishment he saw miguel. the secretary was armed. he had hitherto remained carefully in the rear, and had avoided the danger in the air by hiding behind the trees of the avenue; but now he advanced boldly to the doorway and began to help in battering it down. no sooner was this done than he darted in and ran up the stairs crying out, "we are all soldiers to-day!" several infantrymen followed him to fire from the lowest windows, but tiro could not leave the president; he felt, however, surprised and pleased by miguel's gallantry.
it soon became evident to all that the attempt had failed. the numbers against them were too great. a third of the force had been killed or wounded, when the order to cut their way back to the palace was given. on all sides the exulting enemy pressed fiercely. isolated parties of soldiers, cut off from the retiring column, defended themselves desperately in the houses and on the roofs. they were nearly all killed eventually, for everyone's blood was up, and it was a waste of time to ask for quarter. others set fire to the houses and tried to escape under cover of the smoke; but very few succeeded. others again, and among them miguel, lay hid in closets and cellars, from which they emerged when men's tempers were again human and surrender was not an unknown word. the right column, which consisted of five companies of the guard battalion, were completely surrounded, and laid down their arms on the promise of a rebel general that their lives should be spared. the promise was kept, and it appeared that the superior officers among the revolutionists were making great efforts to restrain the fury of their followers.
the main body of the government troops, massed in a single column, struggled on towards the palace losing men at every step. but in spite of their losses, they were dangerous people to stop. one party of rebels, who intercepted their line of retreat, was swept away in a savage charge, and some attempt was made to reform; but the rifle-fire was pitiless and incessant, and eventually the retreat became a rout. a bloody pursuit followed in which only some eighty men escaped capture or death, and with the president and sorrento regained the palace alive. the great gates were closed, and the slender garrison prepared to defend themselves to the last.
