y, Jack!" cried the faithful Jose, his eyes brimful of pleasure.

"Captain Crawford, if you please!" I interrupted with assumed dignity.

"Captain or general, it's all the same to me, as long as you're home
again, Jack, with no scratch on you! Hurrah! won't there be a fuss in
the house to-night!" and away he went at breakneck speed toward the
gate.

"Better so," said I, jogging along. "He'll be able to prepare them a
little.--Come, old boy," to my horse, "can't you manage even a trot?
Well, never mind; we're nearly there."

The gate of the park was wide open, and inside stood more than half of
my father's servants. They could not wait for me to reach the
courtyard. How they cheered, to be sure! It was a pleasant foretaste
of the welcome that awaited me.

Good old Antonio was at the little gate, so I dismounted and spoke a
word with him, though my feet itched to be dashing along the courtyard.
Then I sent my horse to the stables, with strict orders that it should
be carefully groomed and fed, and made comfortable.

At last! My heart beat loudly; my head was dizzy; I could barely
distinguish the figures in the hall. But my mother's arms were round
me, her lips pressed close to mine, in a fond embrace.

Then came my father's welcome, and presently, in the brilliantly-lit
drawing-room, a young girl came forward and placed her hand in mine.
She was dressed in black, and looked somewhat sad and careworn, as if
life had not been particularly pleasant of late.

"Welcome home, Juan," said she softly; and I saw by her face she was
thinking of the night when I had ridden hurriedly away in the vain
endeavour to save her father's life. We did not speak of it then, and
when, after changing my clothes, I returned to the drawing-room, Rosa
was not there.

"She has gone to her own room," explained my mother, noticing my look
of disappointment. "It would have been difficult for the poor child to
stay with us this first evening."

"She has heard of her father's death, then?"

"Yes," said my father, quickly and with a warning glance. "She knows
that the Indians shot him, thinking he had been in correspondence with
the Royalists."

I understood at once that my father was aware of the truth, but that,
with his usual kindly thought, he had kept it from both the bereaved
girl and my mother. He never alluded to the miserable incident, nor
did I; and Rosa was left in ignorance of the real reason for her
father's untimel