ard nothing but some very dark rumours," I replied uneasily.

"They cannot be darker than the truth. The army has been destroyed,
and the battalion with it."

"And the colonel?"

"Oh, he was in another district with the light company. But I'll tell
you all about it. We had a wretched voyage, and arrived at Arica half
dead. After that we sat down for three weeks doing nothing, when
Alvarado, who was in chief command, sent the colonel north with the
light company. A lucky thing for them, too!"

"Go on!" said I impatiently.

"Well, at last we moved, and marched as far as Torata. Do you know the
place at all?"

"Oh yes; it's a few miles from Moquegua, isn't it?"

"That's it. Well, the Spaniards were at Torata, and we tried to turn
them out, but failed. Then they attacked, and we were beaten. It was
simply awful. The legion fought like a battalion of heroes. Every one
praised us; but praise won't bring the dead to life. We broke two
cavalry charges, and stood our ground till there wasn't a cartridge
left."

"Then you retreated?"

"Some of us did, not many! We left fifteen of our officers there and
three-fourths of the battalion, all dead or dangerously wounded.
Alvarado took us back to Moquegua; but the Spaniards caught us again.
The second defeat was worse than the first, and when the battle was
over there was no army left. As to the battalion--! O Juan, isn't it
awful? La Rosa, Tarramona, Escobar, Rivero--all gone! I should
think," he added, with a bitter laugh, "I must have been senior
officer."

It was, indeed, a terrible story. I could hardly realize that of all
my high-spirited young friends who had sailed from Callao this was the
only one to return.

"How did you get back?" I asked, after a time.

"With General Martinez. We embarked at Ilo, while General Alvarado
went on to Iquiqui. The game's up in that part of the country, Juan!"

"Oh, nonsense!" I replied brusquely. "We aren't going to lose heart
over a couple of defeats."

Of course the news soon spread, and the people, especially the
soldiers, were wild with anger. They said it was the fault of the
government, and called for fresh rulers. Some advised sending for
Bolivar, while a few prominent citizens even talked of coming to terms
with the enemy.

One morning, toward the end of February, Videla called a council of the
officers belonging to his battalion. He looked pale, but firm and
determined, as if he had resolved