seated the Bishop of Mexico and his ecclesiastical staff,
all in grand, gaudy raiments; on such an occasion the Church having
precedence, and the post of honour.

Behind came the gilded coach of the Dictator--flanked on each side by
guards in gorgeous uniform--himself in it. Not alone, but with one
seated by his side, whose presence there caused Florence Kearney
surprise, great as he ever experienced in his life. Despite the coat of
diplomatic cut and its glittering insignia, he easily recognised his
_ci-devant_ teacher of the Spanish tongue--Don Ignacio Valverde.

But great as was his astonishment, he was left no time to indulge in it,
or speculate how his old "crammer" came to be there. For close behind
the Dictator's carriage followed another, holding one who had yet more
interest for him than Don Ignacio--Don Ignacio's daughter!

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

SIGNIFICANT GLANCES.

Yes; the lady in the carriage was Luisa Valverde. Too surely she,
thought Florence Kearney; for seeing her there was painful to him--a
shock--as one who sees the woman he loves in the jaws of some great
danger. And so he believed her to be, as a host of unpleasant memories
came crowding into his mind like hideous spectres. No imagination
either, but a danger real and present before his eyes at that moment, in
the person of a man, riding by the side of the carriage in which she
sat--Carlos Santander. He it was, in a gold-laced uniform, with a smile
of proud satisfaction on his face. What a contrast to the craven,
crestfallen wretch who, under a coating of dull green ooze, crawled out
of the ditch at Pontchartrain! And a still greater contrast in the
circumstances of the two men--fortunes, positions, apparel, everything
reversed.

The Hussar colonel appeared not to be one of the regular escorts
attending upon the Dictator, but detached, and free to choose his place
in the procession. Well had he chosen it, any one would say; for there
was a second lady in the carriage, young and beautiful, too; as may be
guessed--the Condesa Almonte. But he seemed to have no eyes for her,
nor words; his looks and speech all bestowed upon Luisa Valverde. For
he was smilingly conversing with her, and she appeared to listen
attentively, returning his smiles!

A spectacle to Kearney not only saddening, but maddening. Through his
soul, dark as winter now, swept dire bitter misgivings.

"Are they married? No. 'Tis not the behaviour of man and