If politicians fail to engineer a quarrel, the soldiers and sailors will indulge in one on their own account.
It was so now at Maceio.

Dawn was about to peep up over the sea when twelve guns lumbered through the narrow streets, waking many startled citizens.

A few daring souls, who guessed what had happened, rushed off on horseback or bicycle to remote telegraph offices.

These adventurers were too late.

Every railway station and post-office within twenty miles was already held by troops.