nly crept away to save his
own loathsome pelt. Bombs had begun to fall into the City, when a
Mexican general worthier of the name took upon himself the heroic shame
of unconditional surrender. The Oaxacans outside marched in, led by
their young chief, Porfirio Diaz, and they fed the people, and of
"traitors" shot only a moderate few.

Renovation became the order of the days that followed. The President of
the Republic was to be welcomed back to his capital. The stubborn old
patriot's heart must be gladdened by every contrast to the dreary, rainy
night years before when he fled into exile. Mexico would honor herself
in honoring the Benemerito of America. So bunting was spread over every
facade, along every cornice, green, white, and red, a festival lichen of
magic growth. Flags cracked and snapped aloft, and lace curtains decked
the outside of windows. Soldiers put on shoes and canvased their brown
hands in white cotton gloves, and military bands rehearsed tirelessly.

Din Driscoll sat on a bench in the shady Zocalo, and contemplated the
Palacio Nacional and the Cathedral in process of changing sides from
Empire to Republic. Innumerable lanterns being hung along their massive
outlines were for incense to a goddess restored. The Mexican eagle had
prevailed over monarchial griffins, and held her serpent safely in the
way of being throttled. The blunt homely visage of Don Benito Juarez,
luxuriously framed, looked out from over the Palace entrance. It was a
huge portrait, surrounded by the national standards. Among the emblems
there was one other, the Stars and Stripes. The gaze of the
ex-Confederate was fixed. It was fixed steadily on the Stars and
Stripes. Now and then he felt a rising in his throat, which he had
difficulty to swallow down again.

"Well, Jack?"

Boone stood over him. Driscoll's eyes were oddly troubled as they turned
from that flag opposite.

"Sure it's hard," said Boone quietly, "mighty hard, to forgive our
enemies the good they do."

"What enemies?"

"W'y, them," and Daniel pointed to a flag as to a nation. "Yes sir, the
Yanks have kept faith. Do you see a single one of their uniforms down
here? Do you notice anywheres that Yankee protectorate we were
predicting? No sir, you do not! The Yanks--" But the term was damning to
eloquence. Mr. Boone found another. "The _Americans_, I repeat,
have hurled back the European invader. They have given Mexico to the
Mexicans. They have endowed a people with