on the lookout.

When Ruperto Rivas, gazing through that same telescope he had given
Florence Kearney to make survey of the valley of Mexico, cried out, "La
goleta!" every eye around him brightened, every heart beat joyously.

Still more rejoiced were they when, after an hour's tacking against the
land breeze, the goleta got inside the estuary of the stream, and
working up, brought to by the edge of the mangroves.

Unencumbered with heavy baggage, they were all soon aboard, and in three
days after debarked at the port of Panama. Thence crossing the Isthmus
to Chagres, another sea-going craft carried them on to the city, where
they need no longer live in fear of Mexico's despot.

Back to his old quarters in New Orleans had Don Ignacio repaired; again
under the ban of proscription, his estates sequestrated as before. So,
too, those of the Condesa Almonte.

But not for all time, believed they. They lived in hope of a
restoration.

Nor were they disappointed; for it came. The _pronunciamento_ delayed
was at length proclaimed, and carried to a successful issue. Once again
throughout the land of Anahuac had arisen a "grito," its battle cry
"Patria y Libertad!" so earnestly and loudly shouted as to drive the
Dictator from his mock throne; sending him, as several times before, to
seek safety in a foreign land.

Nor were the "Free Lances" unrepresented in this revolutionary struggle;
instead, they played an important part in it. Ere it broke out, they
who had fled the country re-entered it over the Texan border, and
rejoining their brethren, became once more ranged under the leadership
of Captain Ruperto Rivas, with Florence Kearney as his lieutenant, and
Cris Rock a sort of attache to the band, but a valuable adjunct to its
fighting force.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Swords returned to their scabbards, bugles no longer sounding war
signals, it remains out to speak of an episode of more peaceful and
pleasanter nature, which occurred at a later period, and not _so very
long_ after. The place was inside the Grand Cathedral of Mexico, at
whose altar, surrounded by a throng of the land's elite, bells ringing,
and organ music vibrating on the air, stood three couples, waiting to be
wedded.

And wedded they were! Don Ruperto Rivas to the Condesa Almonte,
Florence Kearney to the Dona Luisa Valverde, and--Jose to Pepita.

Happy they, and happy also one who was but a wi