hussar jacket and an old-fashioned cocked hat. The volunteers
were the best clothed, also in great part from the plunder of the battle
of Ayacucho. Their uniforms were laden with gold and silver lace, and some
of the officers, not satisfied with two epaulettes, had half-a-dozen
hanging before and behind, as well as on their shoulders.

As we sat smoking, whittling, and quizzing the patriots, a side-door of
the coffeehouse was suddenly opened, and an officer came out whose
appearance was calculated to give us a far more favourable opinion of
South American _militaires_. He was a man about thirty years of age,
plainly but tastefully dressed, and of that unassuming, engaging demeanour
which is so often found the companion of the greatest decision of
character, and which contrasted with the martial deportment of a young man
who followed him, and who, although in much more showy uniform, was
evidently his inferior in rank. We bowed as he passed before us, and he
acknowledged the salutation by raising his cocked hat slightly but
courteously from his head. He was passing on when his eyes suddenly fell
upon Captain Ready, who was standing a little on one side, notching away
at his tenth or twelfth stick, and at that moment happened to look up. The
officer started, gazed earnestly at Ready for the space of a moment, and
then, with delight expressed on his countenance, sprang forward, and
clasped him in his arms.

"Captain Ready!"

"That is my name," quietly replied the captain.

"Is it possible you do not know me?" exclaimed the officer.

Ready looked hard at him, and seemed a little in doubt. At last he shook
his head.

"You do not know me?" repeated the other, almost reproachfully, and then
whispered something in his ear.

It was now Ready's turn to start and look surprised. A smile of pleasure
lit up his countenance as he grasped the hand of the officer, who took his
arm and dragged him away into the house.

A quarter of an hour elapsed, during which we lost ourselves in
conjectures as to who this acquaintance of Ready's could be. At the end of
that time the captain and his new (or old) friend re-appeared. The latter
walked away, and we saw him enter the government house, while Ready joined
us, as silent and phlegmatic as ever, and resumed his stick and penknife.
In reply to our enquiries as to who the officer was, he only said that he
belonged to the army besieging Callao, and that he had once made a voyage
as his