ate, where another revolution--the
sixth, I believe, since I had been in the country--had broken out, with
the object, as the object of all these explosions of the mob invariably
was, to depose the reigning party in power, and put the leaders of "the
popular movement" for the time being, in the power of the deposed
authorities.

The colonel, who had a good deal staked on the issue of the struggle,
took up arms on the side of the cause he esteemed just--that to which
the most respectable of the inhabitants to a man adhered--as he had
taken up arms before for the party of law and order, amongst whom he was
looked up to, not only as a skilled soldier and tactician, but a
stalwart partisan, his very name being a tower of strength.

Alas! though, no opportunity was afforded him now to display his valour
on the battlefield and lead his hosts to victory; for while we were _en
route_ for Caracas, a dastardly hound of a creole, whose blood was a
mixture of the beast elements--part Spaniard, part Portuguese, part
negro--well, this treacherous brute assassinated Colonel Vereker in the
most cowardly fashion.

I was by and saw it all.

The vile murderer came up to my poor friend as we were resting in a
_posada_ on the road from San Felipe; and, while engaging him in an
apparently friendly conversation respecting the political points of the
rising, he suddenly stabbed the dear old man in the back with a long
stiletto which he had hidden up his wide shirt sleeves.

Fortunately, I was there, and I had time to send a bullet through his
brain from my revolver before the wretch could stir a yard from the
spot; but this could not save my noble-hearted, kind, generous
protector, a man who had been more than a father to me, and for whom I
had the utmost affection and respect. No; the death of the scoundrel
could not save him, for the wound the cowardly scoundrel had inflicted
was mortal.

My dear friend and companion only survived long enough to confide his
daughter to my care and give me his blessing ere he died, drawing his
last breath in my arms, a smile on his face and dauntless to the end, as
he pressed my hand and uttered the usual parting phrase he had learnt
from his Spanish associates--"_Hasta la manana_--Good-bye till to-
morrow!"

It was a long to-morrow, indeed!

After seeing the last tribute of respect paid to the colonel's remains,
the gallant fellow being buried close to the _posada_ where he had met
with his untim