st have been but a boy when you came here," returned the
Englishman, "for you seem to be not yet middle-aged."

"Right, I was indeed a mere boy when I came to this land."

"And I was a boy of seven when I left it to be educated in Europe,"
returned the Englishman. "It is sixteen years since then, and I had
feared that my memory might have failed to recognise the old landmarks,
but I am rejoiced to find that I remember every turn of the road as if I
had left home but yesterday."

We have said that the tall youth's face was not handsome, but the glow
of animation which rested on it when he spoke of home, seemed for a
moment to transform it.

"Your home, then, cannot be far distant?" remarked the Peruvian, with a
peculiar look that might have attracted the attention of the younger man
if his gaze had not at the moment been directed to the Indian girl, who,
during the foregoing conversation, had remained motionless on her mule
with her eyes looking pensively at the ground, like a beautiful statue
in bronze.

"My home is close at hand," said the Englishman, when the question had
been repeated; "unless memory plays me false, two more turns in the road
will reveal it."

The earnest look of the Peruvian deepened as he asked if the Estate of
Passamanka was his home.

"Yes, you know it, then?" exclaimed the youth eagerly; "and perhaps you
knew my father too?"

"Yes, indeed; there are few people within a hundred miles of the place
who did not know the famous sugar-mill and its hospitable owner, Senhor
Armstrong. But excuse me," added the Peruvian, with some hesitation,
"you are aware, I suppose, that your father is dead?"

"Ay, well do I know that," returned the other in a deeper tone. "It is
to take my father's place at the mills that I have been hastily summoned
from England. Alas! I know nothing of the work, and it will be sorely
against the grain to attempt the carrying on of the old business in the
desolate old home."

"Of course you also know," continued the Peruvian, "that the country is
disturbed just now--that the old smouldering enmity between Chili and
Peru has broken forth again in open war."

"I could not have passed through the low country without finding that
out. Indeed," said the youth, glancing at his belt with a
half-apologetic smile, "these weapons, which are so unfamiliar to my
hand, and so distasteful to my spirit, are proof that I, at least, do
not look for a time of peace. I accoutred m