wondering, pleased as children with this wonderful
happening. Thus they crossed a ragged hill, threaded a grove of palms,
and finally came upon an open space, roughly cleared, in the middle of
which stood a tent, with several rude huts around it. The soldiers
explained with eager gestures. Behold the tent of the illustrious
General. Behold the dwelling of Don Rodrigo, of Don Uberto, of Don
Carlos; behold, finally, Don Carlos himself, emerging from the General's
tent. The gallant ragamuffins drew back, and became on the instant
spectators at a play. A slender young man came out of the tent,
evidently to inquire the meaning of the commotion. At what he saw he
turned apparently to stone, and stood, cigarette in hand, staring at the
vision before him. But for Rita there was no hesitation now. Running to
her brother, she threw her arms around his neck with unaffected joy.

"Carlos!" she cried. "I have come to you. I had no one else to go to.
They were taking me to the convent, and I would have died sooner. I have
come to you, to live or die with you, for our country."

Manuela wept; the soldiers were moved to tears, and brushed their ragged
sleeves across their eyes. But Carlos Montfort did not weep.

"Rita!" he said, in English, returning his sister's caress
affectionately, but with little demonstration of joy. "What is the
meaning of this? what induced you--how could you do such a thing as
this? where do you come from? how did you find your way?" And he added
to himself, "And what the mischief am I to do with you now you are
here?"

Rita explained hastily; gave a dramatic sketch of her adventures, not
forgetting the unfortunate peasants, who must, she said, be rescued that
instant from their wretched plight; and wound up with a vivid
description of the bell-ringing, the gathering of the patriot forces,
and the magnificent behaviour of her beloved Chiquito.

"Good gracious! you have brought the parrot, too!" cried poor Carlos.
"Rita! Rita! this is too much."

At this moment a new person appeared on the scene. A tall old man,
stooping his head, came out from the tent, and greeted the wandering
damsel with grave courtesy.

Perhaps the General had seen too much of life and of war to be surprised
at anything; perhaps he was sorry for the embarrassment of his young
lieutenant, and wished to make things easier for him; however it was, he
apparently found it the most natural thing in the world for a young
lady and her mai