Without further hesitation, he entered the barracks, spoke with the two sergeants of the dwindled company, bade them form it, rapidly exchanged words with his men, and, then, drawing his sword and facing the files, cried out—his voice still trembling:
“Boys! viva el Imperio!” (May the Empire live).
“Viva!” (may it live)—one soldier answered.
“Sergeant Beltran,” said Antón, “fifteen men with you to guard the barracks; twenty-five, with Sergeant Federico, may follow me.”
The order was carried out to the letter, and at the head of his twenty-five men, Antón marched to the house, where the two Méndez brothers were gaily breakfasting.
At the moment when the colonel exclaimed, “Impossible,” denying Don Vencho’s report, there was heard, on the walk in front, the sound of guns, on falling to rest.
“Sergeant Federico!” ordered Antón, “advance and order Colonel Méndez and the officers who accompany him to