an to talk himself. It was not what I expected. It was
only an old woman, an old lace-maker, in search of her son, one of the
street-sweepers employed by the municipality. Friends had come the day
before at daybreak to the door of their hovel calling him out. He had
gone with them, and she had not seen him since; so she had left the food
she had been preparing half-cooked on the extinct embers and had crawled
out as far as the harbour, where she had heard that some town mozos had
been killed on the morning of the riot. One of the Cargadores guarding
the Custom House had brought out a lantern, and had helped her to look
at the few dead left lying about there. Now she was creeping back,
having failed in her search. So she sat down on the stone seat under the
arch, moaning, because she was very tired. The Capataz had questioned
her, and after hearing her broken and groaning tale had advised her to
go and look amongst the wounded in the patio of the Casa Gould. He had
also given her a quarter dollar, he mentioned carelessly."

"'Why did you do that?' I asked. 'Do you know her?'

"'No, senor. I don't suppose I have ever seen her before. How should I?
She has not probably been out in the streets for years. She is one
of those old women that you find in this country at the back of huts,
crouching over fireplaces, with a stick on the ground by their side, and
almost too feeble to drive away the stray dogs from their cooking-pots.
Caramba! I could tell by her voice that death had forgotten her. But,
old or young, they like money, and will speak well of the man who gives
it to them.' He laughed a little. 'Senor, you should have felt the
clutch of her paw as I put the piece in her palm.' He paused. 'My last,
too,' he added.

"I made no comment. He's known for his liberality and his bad luck at
the game of monte, which keeps him as poor as when he first came here.

"'I suppose, Don Martin,' he began, in a thoughtful, speculative tone,
'that the Senor Administrador of San Tome will reward me some day if I
save his silver?'

"I said that it could not be otherwise, surely. He walked on, muttering
to himself. 'Si, si, without doubt, without doubt; and, look you, Senor
Martin, what it is to be well spoken of! There is not another man that
could have been even thought of for such a thing. I shall get something
great for it some day. And let it come soon,' he mumbled. 'Time passes
in this country as quick as anywhere else.'

"This,