then, disappointed, resumed his path, with some gesture of
impatience. At last he heard footsteps approaching. They came nearer and
nearer; and now he could hear the branches of the trees bend and crack,
as some one forced a passage through them. A swelling feeling about the
heart bespoke the anxiety with which he listened, when a figure
appeared which even at a glance he knew to be not Enrique's. As the man
approached be took off his hat respectfully and presented a letter.

"From Don Enrique?" said Roland, and then, tearing open the paper, he
read,--

Amigo Mio,--Not mine the fault that I do not stand before
you now instead of these few lines; but Noronja has
received news of these Chilian fellows, and sent me to get
the craft ready for sea at once. We shall meet, then, in a
few hours; and, if so, let it be as comrades. The service
and our own rules forbid a duel so long as we are afloat and
on duty. Whatever be your humor when next we touch shore
again, rely upon finding me ready to meet it, either as an
enemy or as

Your friend,

Enrique da Cordova.

A single exclamation of disappointment broke from Roland, but the moment
after all former anger was gone. The old spirit of comrade-affection
began to seek its accustomed channels, and he left the spot, happy to
think how different had been his feeling than if he were quitting it
with the blood of his shipmate on his hands.

Although he now saw that his continuance in the service for the present
was inevitable, he had fully made up his mind to leave it, and, with it,
habits of life whose low excesses had now become intolerable. So long as
the spirit of adventure and daring sustained him, so long the respite of
a few months' shore life was a season of pleasure and delight; but as by
degrees the real character of his associates became clearer, and he saw
in them men who cared for enterprise no further than for its gain, and
calculated each hazardous exploit by its profit, he felt that he was
now following the career of a bravo who hires out his arm and sells
his courage. This revolted every sentiment of his mind, and, come what
would, he resolved to abandon it. In these day-dreams of a new existence
the memory of two years passed in the Pampas constantly mingled, and he
could not help contrasting the happy and healthful contentment of the
simple hunter with the voluptuous but cankered pleasures of the wealthy