e of the utmost
importance."

She assented, and in a low, tremulous, musical voice bravely went
through her story.

"We come," she began, "my father and I--for my mother died when I was a
little girl--we come from the northern part of Vespuccia, where foreign
capitalists are much interested in the introduction of a new rubber
plant. I am an only child and have been the constant companion of my
father for years, ever since I could ride a pony, going with him about
our hacienda and on business trips to Europe and the States.

"I may as well say at the start, Mr. Jameson, that although my father is
a large land-owner, he has very liberal political views and is deeply in
sympathy with the revolution that is now going on in Vespuccia. In fact,
we were forced to flee very early in the trouble, and as there seemed
to be more need of his services here in New York than in any of the
neighbouring countries, we came here. So you see that if the revolution
is not successful his estate will probably be confiscated and we shall
be penniless. He is the agent--the head of the junta, I suppose you
would call it--here in New York."

"Engaged in purchasing arms and ammunition," put in Kennedy, as she
paused, "and seeing that they are shipped safely to New Orleans as
agricultural machinery, where another agent receives them and attends to
their safe transit across the Gulf."

She nodded and after a moment resumed

"There is quite a little colony of Vespuccians here in New York, both
revolutionists and government supporters. I suppose that neither of
you has any idea of the intriguing that is going on under the peaceful
surface right here in your own city. But there is much of it, more than
even I know or can tell you. Well, my father lately has been acting very
queerly. There is a group who meet frequently at the home of a Senora
Mendez--an insurrecto group, of course. I do not go, for they are
all much older people than I. I know the senora well, but I prefer
a different kind of person. My friends are younger and perhaps more
radical, more in earnest about the future of Vespuccia.

"For some weeks it has seemed to me that this Senora Mendez has had too
much influence over my father. He does not seem like the same man he
used to be. Indeed, some of the junta who do not frequent the house of
the senora have remarked it. He seems moody, works by starts, then
will neglect his work entirely. Often I see him with his eyes closed,
appar