But be that as it may, time was given them to barricade at San Jorge, till near the middle of the forenoon, and then Generals Henningsen and Sanders were sent out with some four hundred riflemen and infantry to drive them into the lake, which lay some few hundred yards behind them.  During the first part of the attack, our company remained in Rivas, listening anxiously to the uproar at San Jorge,—­every volley fired by the combatants being borne distinctly to us by the east wind.  For some time there was a continuous rattle of musketry, with rapid detonations of deeper-mouthed cannon,—­at each roar shaking our suspended hearts,—­for we knew that our own men were using small arms only.  After a while this abated, grew irregular, and almost ceased.  An order then came for our company to mount and join the combatants.  We galloped down the broad and almost level highway which passes between Rivas and San Jorge, bordered a great part of its length, on either side, by cactus-hedges, broken at various intervals by the grassy by-lanes that run out to the neighboring haciendas or parallel roads.  At places where there is a slight elevation, the bottom of the road is worn several feet below the level by the carts which ply between Rivas and the lake.  Opposite one of these, where the banks sloped at a sharp angle, we came upon General Henningsen and a detachment of musketeers resting on the right bank of the road, and halted beside them.  The men were sitting under the shade of an adobe, refreshing themselves with oranges; and those in the nearest rank were close enough to hand us fruit and keep their seats on the grass.  Five or six hundred yards up the road, the large church which stood on the plaza of San Jorge, with the door facing us, and a low wall of white stone running squarely from its side across to the right, ended the vista between banks of green foliage.  Our view stretched across the plaza, which seemed to be empty and unbarricaded; and I remember the painted door of the church beyond, the red-tiled roof, the low, flanking wall of white stone, all dazily trembling in the unsteady atmosphere radiating from the heated road,—­whilst a cloud of white smoke was sailing slowly away to the west.  It was a hot and tranquil scene.  But I always think of it with the same secret disgust with which the shipwrecked traveller looks upon the placid ocean the day after the angry storm has passed over it; for it was here I first saw the cruelty of a round shot.

When we came to a halt, there seemed to be a lull in the struggle, and no enemy was anywhere visible, nor was firing heard from any direction.  The infantry, though within range of small arms from the town, were concealed by the bushes, and the enemy were scarcely aware of their presence.  But when our company came galloping up the road, in full view, their attention was aroused, and we had scarcely checked our animals and exchanged a few words with the foot-soldiers,