.

I had much to think of during the short ride home, but I got little
satisfaction from my thoughts. Nothing had been gained by my visit to
Montilla, and his story only went to confirm the truth of the reports
of my father's death. As to my faith in his startling promises, it
grew weaker with every step my horse took.

I said nothing to my mother; but Jose, to whom I related all that had
passed, laughed loudly.

"The cunning old fox!" cried he; "he hasn't his equal for craft in
Peru! You will see that, whoever sinks, Don Felipe Montilla will swim."

"Not at my expense," I exclaimed, "while I have strength to raise an
arm."

The rest of that day I spent with my mother, forcing myself to forget
that any trouble existed in the world. It was only a brief spell of
happiness, but we enjoyed every second of it, and by nightfall my
mother's face had lost some of its sadness, and her eyes shone brightly
as in the olden days.

Early next morning an order was brought to me to rejoin Colonel Miller,
as it was arranged that, for a time at least, Jose should remain behind
to look after the affairs of the hacienda. The servants assembled in
the courtyard to see me off, and my mother came to the hall door.
There she embraced me, and stood smiling bravely as I mounted.
Whatever sorrow she felt was locked up tightly in her own breast.

Accompanied by the man who had brought the order, I rode briskly to
Mirones, the headquarters of the Patriot army, and about a mile from
Callao.

The colonel was with San Martin and a group of officers, watching the
enemy's movements; but he turned to me at once, saying, "General, this
is Lieutenant Crawford, of whom I spoke."

San Martin, the Protector of Peru, was a tall man with black hair,
bushy whiskers, and a deep olive complexion. He had black, piercing
eyes, fringed by long lashes and overhung by heavy brows and a high,
straight forehead. He was strong and muscular, with an erect, military
carriage. He looked every inch a soldier, and one, moreover, with an
iron will that nothing could bend. His voice was harsh and unmusical,
but he spoke in a kindly, simple, and unaffected manner.

"Colonel Miller has told me many things of you, lieutenant," said he,
"and all to your credit. I am glad to know that the son of Don Eduardo
Crawford is following so well in his father's steps."

"Thank you, general," I replied, bowing low.

"I understand," he continued, "that Colonel Miller wi