eagerly for a glimpse of my father's face. I was (do
not think the confession weak) utterly homesick. Duty, however,
claimed me a while longer, and I turned my horse's head toward the
Government House.

It was not possible to move at more than a foot-pace. The crowd surged
around me; little children, garlanded with flowers, ran close to my
horse's hoofs. I was terribly afraid some of them would be trampled to
death.

Many soldiers were there, too, their uniforms spick and span, and
unspotted by the soil of the Andes. Mine was dirty, bloodstained, and
not altogether free from rents. I rode carefully, but my eyes were
heavy and my limbs ached with fatigue.

Darting suddenly from the throng, a man seized my bridle-rein and cried
aloud, "A soldier from Ayacucho! Here is one of our brave deliverers!"

[Illustration: "A soldier from Ayacucho! Here is one of our brave
deliverers!"]

Instantly I was surrounded by the crowd, which pressed me so closely
that my horse could barely move. Viva after viva rent the air;
laughing girls and women half smothered me with flowers; men marched
beside me or fell into line behind, forming a kind of triumphal
procession. One would have thought I was the saviour of the country--a
second Bolivar!

Thus, laughing, cheering, and singing, they escorted me to the
Government House, where, leaving my astonished horse with the guards, I
hurried inside. An official, in all the glory of a gorgeous uniform,
demanded my business, and remarked haughtily that the president was
engaged.

"Tell him," said I, "that a lieutenant of the Hussars of Junin is here
with dispatches from General Sucre."

After waiting a few minutes, I was conducted through the spacious hall
to a room guarded by a file of soldiers. My attendant knocked timidly
at the door, which was immediately opened, and I entered the apartment.

Bolivar sat at a table dictating letters to his secretary and talking
to several officers of high rank. His complexion seemed sallower than
ever, his dark hair had more of gray in it, but his eyes had lost none
of their penetrating keenness.

I saluted and stood at attention, waiting for him to speak.

"Ah," exclaimed he, in his loud, rasping voice, and turning his eyes
askance as he usually did in conversation, "you are Lieutenant
Crawford! I have not forgotten you. How is it that you still have
only two stripes?" pointing to the stripes of silver lace round my
cuff, which deno