oadside on the rebel. That was the last act before the Huascar
surrendered.

I was aboard the Huascar a few months afterward at Mollendo and she
presented a most dilapidated appearance.

Thus again was General Pierola frustrated, and by a British wooden
vessel against a crack ironclad of Peru. Pierola escaped as usual, and
the Huascar was turned over to the Peruvian government.

A few days after the Amythist-Huascar battle I discovered the people
of Ilo were cold and distant towards me, and I soon learned the cause.
Although they were in favor of the existing government, they did not
relish the idea of their people being beaten by the British. I could
not condemn the acts of my own country and I felt it would be better
to leave Ilo, which I did, little dreaming of the exciting events
which were soon to follow.

X.

WE MEET AGAIN, FELICITA.

The theater of Arequipa was ablaze with lights. The youth and beauty
had assembled to follow the fortunes of the Count de Monte Christo. I
was seated in the dress circle listening to the weird warlike strains
of Spanish music, when my eyes fell upon the occupants of a box. A
beautiful girl, half hidden by the rich draperies, was talking with an
aristocratic looking old gentleman, while by their side sat a young
man, dark-browed and sinister looking. I arose and entered the box
from the side door. "Don Julian Maldonado, I am delighted to meet
you," I said, "I am the boy you befriended some years ago in the
Cordilleras."

He took my hand delightedly and bade me be seated, offering me a chair
between himself and daughter. Don Julian whispered to me not to make
myself known to Felicita to see if she would recognize me. All this
was amusing to Don Julian, but somewhat embarrassing to me, seated, as
I was, between them, and trying to carry on a conversation with him.
The expression of wonderment in Felicita's beautiful eyes was
disconcerting to say the least. It was evident she did not remember
me. And yet how could she be expected to. She was a child of only nine
years when we first met, and who now, seven years later found me
unexpected and unannounced sitting beside her in a theater.

Laughingly I turned to her and asked if she did not recognize me,
explaining that the reason her father had not presented me was that we
had met seven years ago.

While I was speaking she was looking earnestly at me, but when I
recalled their journey to La Paz she appeared dubious and a