."

"The estates were confiscated, it is true," said Don Felipe slowly,
"but they fell into friendly hands." Then, in quite a kindly tone, he
added, "You feel bitter against me, Juan--I see it in your face.
Perhaps it is natural; yet you really have no reason to do so. I must
not say more now, but all will come right in the end."

"So I intend," said I stoutly, yet feeling rather mystified.

The man's sudden change of manner puzzled me. After all, I was only a
boy, with little ability and no training to seek for things lying
beneath the surface. And Montilla seeing the state of my mind, played
upon it with consummate skill.

I cannot truthfully say that he made any definite promise, but this was
the impression I received:--Knowing that all my father's property was
forfeit to the law, he had exerted his influence to secure it. At that
time he thought the trouble would be settled without fighting, and
intended in a year or two to restore the estates. When the war broke
out, he endeavoured to bring the viceroy over to the cause of reform,
but finding that impossible, was compelled reluctantly to join the
Patriots. Of course, in the matter of the estates, nothing could be
done now till the war was over.

"Thus," said he cheerfully, "the future is safe. If the Patriots win,
we can have the confiscation revoked; while, on the other hand, I count
so many friends among the moderate Royalists that the viceroy would
hardly care to thwart me."

"In any case," said I bluntly, though with no wish to vex him, "the
Indians will see that I am not wronged!"

"Trust me," he answered, his voice sounding now like the purring of a
cat; "Felipe Montilla never makes mistakes."

I had a stinging reply on my lips, but refraining from giving it
utterance, I bade him farewell.

"Come again, Juan," said he, "if the general can spare you!" And
though not overburdened with wits, I had a sense of being laughed at.

I was joined in the corridor by Rosa, who wanted to know why I was
going so soon.

"I really must," I answered, smiling. "I have spent no time with my
mother yet, and I may be sent for at any moment."

"But this will not be _good-bye_?"

"On the contrary, I hope to see you often. Your father has given me
the kindest of invitations."

At this she opened her eyes wide; but quickly recovering herself, she
smiled pleasantly, and accompanied me to the hall. As I rode by, she
was standing at a window waving her hand