most criminal instability. The Republic lost in him an
ardent patriot, but scarcely a great leader.

The dawn of Tuesday, October 4th, showed the fortunes of the revolt at
rather a low ebb. The land forces were dismayed by the inaction of the
ships; the sailors imagined, from the non-appearance of their leader,
that some disaster must have occurred on land. It was in these hours of
despondency that the true heroes of the revolution showed their mettle.

In the bivouac at the Rotunda, as the morning wore on, the Republican
officers declared that the game was up, and that there was nothing for
it but to disperse and await the consequences. They themselves actually
made off; and it was then that Machado dos Santos came to the front,
taking command of the insurgent force and reviving their drooping
spirits. The position was not really a strong one. For one thing, it is
commanded by the heights of the Misericordia; and there was, in fact,
some long-range firing between the insurgents and the Guardia Municipal
stationed on that eminence. Again, the gentle slope of the Avenida, a
hundred yards wide, is clothed by no fewer than ten rows of low trees,
acacias, and the like, five rows on each side of the comparatively
narrow roadway, which is blocked at the lower end by a massive monument
to the liberators of 1640. Thus the insurgents could not see their
adversaries even when they ventured out of their sheltered position in
the Rocio; and the artillery fire from the Rotunda did much more damage
to the hotels that flanked the narrow neck of the Avenida than to the
Royalist forces. On the other hand, it would have been comparatively
easy for the Royalists, with a little resolution, to have crept up the
Avenida under cover of the trees, and driven the insurgents from their
position. Fortunately for the revolt, there was a total lack of
leadership on the Royalist side, excusable only on the ground that the
officers could not rely on their men.

While things were at a deadlock on the Avenida, critical events were
happening on the Tagus. On all three ships, the officers knew that the
men were only awaiting a signal to mutiny; but the signal did not come.
At this juncture, and while it seemed that the Republican cause was
lost, a piece of heroic bluff on the part of a single officer saved the
situation. Lieutenant Tito de Moraes put off in a small boat from the
naval barracks at Alcantara, rowed to the _San Raphael_, boarded it,
and c