tested that my courage and devotion would earn me the eternal gratitude
of every patriot, and promised to have everything ready for me in the
course of the week, a promise which he faithfully kept.

Three days later Morena brought me a packet of letters and a memorandum
containing minute instructions for my guidance. Nothing could be more
harmless looking than the letters. They contained merely a few items of
general news and the recommendation of the bearer to the good offices of
the recipient. But this was only a blind; the real letters were written in
cipher, with sympathetic ink. They were, moreover, addressed to secret
friends of the revolutionary cause, who, as Senor Morena believed and
hoped, were, as yet, unsuspected by the Spanish authorities, and at large.

"To give you letters to known patriots would be simply to insure your
destruction," said the senor, "even if you were to find them alive and at
liberty."

I had also Don Alberto's letter, and as the old gentleman had once been
president of the _Audiencia Real_ (Royal Council), Morena thought it would
be of great use to me, and serve to ward off suspicion, even though some
of the friends to whom he had himself written should have meanwhile got
into trouble.

But as if he had not complete confidence in the efficacy of these
elaborate precautions, Senor Morena strongly advised me to stay no longer
in Caracas than I could possibly help.

"Spies more vigilant than those of the Inquisition are continually on the
lookout for victims," he said. "An inadvertent word, a look even, might
betray you; the only law is the will of the military and police, and they
make very short work of those whom they suspect. Yes, leave Caracas the
moment you have delivered your letters; our friends will smuggle you
through the Spanish line and lead you to one of the patriot camps."

This was not very encouraging; but I was at an adventurous age and in an
enterprising mood, and the creole's warnings had rather the effect of
increasing my desire to go forward with the undertaking in which I had
engaged than causing me to falter in my resolve. Like Napoleon, I believed
in my star, and I had faced death too often on the field of battle to fear
the rather remote dangers Morena had foreshadowed, and in whose existence
I only half believed.

The die being cast, the next question was how I should reach my
destination. The Spaniards of that age kept the trade with their colonies
in thei