trying to catch any sound of dissent in their greeting, or some
possible undercurrent of disfavor, but the welcome appeared to be both
genuine and hearty, until a second shout smothered it completely as the
figure of old General Rojas, the Vice-President, and the most dearly
loved by the common people, came through the gate at the head of his
regiment. There was such greeting for him that the welcome to the
President seemed mean in comparison, and it was with an embarrassment
which both felt that the two men drew near together, and each leaned
from his saddle to grasp the other's hand. Madame Alvarez sank back
rigidly on her cushions, and her eyes flashed with anticipation and
excitement. She drew her mantilla a little closer about her shoulders,
with a nervous shudder as though she were cold. Suddenly the look of
anxiety in her eyes changed to one of annoyance, and she beckoned Clay
imperiously to the side of the carriage.

"Look," she said, pointing across the square. "If I am not mistaken
that is Miss Langham, Miss Hope. The one on the black horse--it must
be she, for none of the native ladies ride. It is not safe for her to
be here alone. Go," she commanded, "bring her here to me. Put her
next to the carriage, or perhaps she will be safer with you among the
troopers."

Clay had recognized Hope before Madame Alvarez had finished speaking,
and dashed off at a gallop, skirting the line of carriages. Hope had
stopped her horse beside a victoria, and was talking to the native
women who occupied it, and who were scandalized at her appearance in a
public place with no one but a groom to attend her.

"Why, it's the same thing as a polo match," protested Hope, as Clay
pulled up angrily beside the victoria. "I always ride over to polo
alone at Newport, at least with James," she added, nodding her head
toward the servant.

The man approached Clay and touched his hat apologetically, "Miss Hope
would come, sir," he said, "and I thought I'd better be with her than
to go off and tell Mr. Langham, sir. I knew she wouldn't wait for me."

"I asked you not to come," Clay said to Hope, in a low voice.

"I wanted to know the worst at once," she answered. "I was anxious
about Ted--and you."

"Well, it can't be helped now," he said. "Come, we must hurry, here is
our friend, the enemy." He bowed to their acquaintances in the
victoria and they trotted briskly off to the side of the President's
carriage, just as a ye