ricious aid of dress. Iris looked fresh and cool in soft muslin,
whereas the newcomer was travel-stained and disheveled. The pack-mules
were lagging on the road, but a wash and general tidying of
dust-covered garments would help the President's daughter to regain the
assurance, now sadly lacking, which would be necessary ere she won her
rightful place in a community largely composed of strangers. As she
led her horse back into the main avenue, she was sorry that her father
or Salvador could not spare even the few minutes that would have
sufficed for an introduction. At any rate, she would probably find an
old servant at the back of the house--some family retainer whose
welcome would charm away this displeasing sense of intrusion.

On the way to the stables she heard a man singing. The words were in
English. They were also quaint, for they dealt with life from a point
of view which differed widely from that presented by Dom Corria's
_finca_.

"Oh, it's fine to be a sailor" [sang Watts],
"an' to cross the ragin' main,
From Hooghly bar to New Orleens to roam,
But I 'ope that my old woman will put me on the chain
Next time I want to quit my 'umble 'ome."

Possibly the verse was an original effort, because there followed a
marked change in tune and meter.

"'Mid pleasures an' palaces----'" he began, when Senhora De Sylva came
upon him as he sat on a fence, pipe in hand, with his back braced
comfortably against a magnificent rosewood tree. He stopped, grinned
sheepishly, and, not recognizing the lady, tried to cover his confusion
by lighting the pipe.

"Are you one of the _Andromeda's_ men?" asked Carmela, speaking in the
clear and accurate English used by her father.

It was well for Watts that the tree prevented him from falling
backwards. He was quite sober, but cheerful withal, as he had nothing
to do but sleep, smoke, eat, and drink the light wine of the district,
of which his only complaint was that "one might mop up a barrel of it
an' get no forrarder." Nevertheless, he received a positive shock when
addressed in his own language by a young woman who was obviously of
Brazil. He stared at her so hard that he forgot the steady progress of
the slow-burning tand-stikkor match recently ignited. Its sulphurous
flame reached his fingers and reminded him.

"My godfather!" he howled, springing from the rail, and recovering his
wits instantly. "Beg pardon, mum, but you took me aback a