She dismounted, and
drew the reins across the horse's head ere she tied him to a tree. She
saw a tall young man emerge from the tent, jump on a charger held by a
soldier, and ride off at a fast pace toward the house of Las Flores,
which stood in a large garden on the slope of a neighboring hill. His
appearance seemed to puzzle her momentarily. His attire was that of
Brazil, but neither his manner nor horsemanship was typical of the
Brasileiro. In walking, he moved with an air of purposeful
concentration that differed singularly from the languorous stroll of
the average Brazilian officer, while his seat in the saddle, though
confident enough, could not be mistaken for that of a man who never
walks a yard if there is an animal to bestride.

The new arrival was, however, at once too weary and too excited to give
further heed to one who was an utter stranger. She pushed her way
through knots of smoking loungers, entered the tent, and uttered a
little scream of delight when the President, who was writing at a big
table, happened to glance at her. De Sylva rose hastily, with an
amazed look on his usually unemotional face; forthwith the girl flung
herself into his arms.

"Father!"

"Carmela!"

San Benavides, whose back was turned, heard the joyous cries of the
reunited father and daughter. They were locked in each other's
embrace, and the eyes of every man present were drawn to a pathetic and
unexpected meeting. For that reason, and because none gave a thought
to him, the pallor that changed the bronze of his forehead and cheeks
into a particularly unhealthy-looking tint of olive green passed
unnoticed. He swallowed something. It must have been a curse, for it
seemed to taste bitter. But he managed to recover some shred of
self-control ere the Senhora De Sylva was able to answer her father's
first eager questions; then, with a charming timidity, she found breath
to say:

"And what of Salvador--is he not here?"

Yes, Salvador was there--by her side--striving most desperately to look
lover-like. They clasped hands. Brazilian etiquette forbade a more
demonstrative greeting, and Carmela attributed Salvador's manifest
sallowness to the hardships of campaigning no less than the shock of
her sudden appearance.

But the business of red war gave little scope for the many confidences
that a girl who had journeyed more than four thousand miles for this
reunion might naturally exchange with a father and a lover. S