n, buried alive, unable to
carry on the work in the world God had given him to do, caused them
intolerable misery. While he suffered there was no taste in life, and
the three shut themselves from the world. They admitted only the
Consul, who had been his friend, and those who, like themselves, were
exiles, and in whose hatred of Alvarez lay their only hope of again
seeing the one they loved. Time after time a plan of rescue had
failed. A plot that promised release had been disclosed and the
conspirators punished. Hope had left them, and, on the part of their
friends, had been followed by lethargy.

But within the last three months a new hope had arisen, and with it,
for the younger daughter, a new distress.

It was whispered that a revolution, backed by great wealth and
sanctified by the prayers of the people, was to be started near
Valencia. Its leader in the field was to be young Pino Vega, in
several campaigns the personal aide-de-camp of General Rojas, a young
man indebted to his chief for many favors, devoted to him by reason of
mutual confidence and esteem. If successful, this revolt against
Alvarez was to put Vega in command of the army, to free Rojas and to
place him as president at Miraflores. To the women the thought that
Rojas might become president was intolerable. It was because he had
consented to be president that he had suffered. The mere thought of
the office, and of the cruelties that had been practised by the man
who held it, made it, to the women, terrifying.

For Rojas they wanted neither position nor power. They wanted Rojas
free. They wanted to hold him close, to touch him, to look into his
eyes, to see the gentle, understanding smile.

Each felt that there was nothing she could not do, no sacrifice she
would not make, if once more she could sit beside him, holding his
hand, waiting in silence for the joy of hearing him speak. And of the
younger girl the sacrifice has been required. At least a way in which
she could assist the cause that would lead to the freedom of her
father had been presented to her. From Paris, Pino Vega had written
her mother, requesting permission to ask Inez to be his wife.

To the girl, of all the men she knew in Venezuela, Pino was the most
attractive. They both had lived for years outside of their own country
and, in consequence, had much in common. He was thirty-seven, older
than she by fourteen years, but, as has already been pointed out, in
appearance, in manner