Salvador Moreno was a high-strung, refined man to whom the brutality of force was repugnant. At the same time his indomitable and lofty spirit could not bend itself to the political despotism which is killing us like a shameful chronic sore. In the conspiracy he had seen the shaking off of the heavy yoke, the dignity of his country avenged, and the triumph of liberty. To gain all that, the sacrifice of his life had not seemed too much. Now his sorrow was very great, his patriotic illusions had disappeared like the visions of a beautiful dream when one awakens, and his heart was throbbing with wrath against those who through their cowardice had caused the daring attempt to fail. With keen regret he thought of his comrades uselessly sacrificed, of the agony of a brave young fellow whom he had carried out of the Cuartel in his arms, mortally wounded.
Clear and exact the events of the combat went marching through his mind, some of which were atrocious, worthy of savages, others irresistibly comical, like that of the boastful fellow who withdrew from the gate of the Cuartel to go in search of his revolver which he pretended to have forgotten; and always persistent and sad, the vision of the lieutenant falling without a cry, his hand at his breast. Afterwards the despair at the failure, that retreat at daybreak through the deserted streets of the capital, the interminable hours of anguish, hidden with Ramon Solares under some sacks in the country house of a friend, listening to the voices of those who were searching for them.
San Antonio de Beldn
Finally the sheltering night, the hurried flight, the gloomy future, forbidding as the wrath of the enraged dictator. In order to aid their escape the fugitives had agreed to follow different roads; Salvador Moreno chose the one to Puntarenas, passing through San Antonio de Beldn, and the plains of Carmen. Ramon Solares preferred the San Carlos route, with the idea of seeking refuge in Nicaragua by land, where the two friends were to meet if Salvador should succeed in escaping the vigilance of the authorities of the port.
Both were accompanied by trusty retainers who knew the country and were of proved courage. It was Fate that decided in this case, and we have already seen that she declared in favor of Salvador Moreno, who without meeting a soul, arrived at the highroad to Puntarenas at one o’clock in the morning, while his friend, chained in his prison, offered prayers that he might succeed in escaping from those who pursued him.