ard you as a deserter!" urged Guido.

"What matters it as long as I know the truth? I care not for the
applause of the world, my friends, nor fear its frowns. I leave my
work unfinished, it is true, but others will finish it and reap the
glory. Besides, Peru will be the better for my absence."

"No, no!" exclaimed my father earnestly. "The people love you and
trust you. They will uphold your authority."

San Martin held out his hand, saying,--

"You are a true friend, Crawford, but you are a true patriot and a
shrewd man as well. Now listen to me. Without help it will take two
years at least to subdue the Spaniards. That will mean two years of
misery. Do you follow me?"

"Perfectly."

"With help the war can be brought to an end in six months. The
Chilians can do no more, and we can look only to Bolivar. Now, do you
imagine that he and I can run in double harness?"

My father shook his head sorrowfully.

"Of course not. Bolivar is a great man, a remarkable man; but he is
ambitious, and will brook no rival. Now, suppose I remain. It will be
difficult to avoid strife, and the country will be plunged back into
its old condition of slavery. Do you think that San Martin will give a
day of delight to the common enemy? No, my friend; if only Peru
retains its independence, I care nothing for self. Let men call me
what they please. The path of duty lies plain before me; I am going to
walk in it. Let Bolivar have the glory; it is but a breath. I shall
not say this publicly; neither will you. I am broken in health; let
that do for the present. In years to come, perhaps, the world will
recognize my good faith; if not, never mind!"

Even after that my father endeavoured to dissuade him from going, but
his efforts were useless.

"Let me wish you good-bye, Crawford," said he. "I need hardly counsel
you to accept the help which Bolivar offers. The man may not please
you, but--country first!--Good-bye, my boy; if you make half as good a
man as your father, you will not do amiss."

We grasped his hand for the last time, and leaving Guido with him, went
into the road, mounted our horses, and rode slowly homeward.

Next day it became known that San Martin had left Peru for ever, and
instantly men's tongues were loosed in a babel of talk. Some few
judged him rightly; but for the most part his splendid services were
forgotten, and with sickening haste people turned their gaze toward
Bolivar, the new sun