"I have been a colonel of artillery," Felipe returned somewhat haughtily, a little hurt.
"A million pardons, my good, brave friend. I might have known."
"It was nothing," Felipe waved it away, peering into the cannon's mouth; "it was not said."
Helena could not trust her voice to sound as a soldier's voice should ring in the moment of victory. She ranged her horse beside Henderson's, and paid him what she could with a smile. Felipe looked up from loading the gun.
"He is not only a thousand men; he is ten thousand!" he said. "Now, my general!" as he rammed the charge of grape-shot down.
"You are ready?"
"Ready, my general. To the pass! One shot will clear it, then on to Monterey!"
"No, not to the pass," said Henderson. "Turn it the other way; we're going back."
"Back, Gabriel?" Helena seemed to protest. The forces of her past anguish assailed her, driving her courage away.
"Back?" Felipe repeated, face blank in amazement. "Why, we'll meet the soldiers, they'll take the cannon away from us, Gabriel. With this little cannon we can go marching to Monterey like conquerors, we can clear our way like a fire."
"It is a long distance to Monterey," said Gabriel, "the situation there is doubtful. There is a better way. We will make terms with General Garvanza through Don Abrahan."
