-bottle--not at his daughter. "Of course, if it had been merely one
of your whims, _nothing_ would have induced me to let you go in such
guise, but there is truth in what you say, and--yes--a good thought, you
shall travel near Pedro. Good-night. Go to bed, love. You will need
all the rest you can obtain between now and morning."

"Good-night, darling father. I would kiss you if I had not just put on
the stain."

She retired, and soon after laid her pretty brown cheek on her pillow in
placid contentment, while her grim father arranged his war plans so that
Pedro should travel with the _advance-guard_.

There was a soft, fresh, exhilarating breeze blowing from the Pampas as
the troop issued from the little town at a gallop, when the first streak
of dawn became visible.

There was order, doubtless, in all the arrangements, but all seemed
utter confusion to Lawrence as he assisted the young officer under whose
special command he was placed to look after the mules. Some faint
evidence of order, however, began to reveal itself to his uneducated
mind when he observed that the confusion abated on the main body moving
off and leaving him with a small band behind. His perception of order
might have been still further though unpleasantly increased had he known
that the advance-guard, with Manuela in its train, had started a
considerable time previously. But he had not much time to think, for
the command was almost immediately given to mount and ride.

Quashy was beside him, for, being his servant, Colonel Marchbanks had
said he might do with him as he pleased. But Quashy was silent, for his
spirit was chafed. His master observed the fact after the first
half-hour's gallop.

"What ails you, Quash?"

"I can't abide peepil," growled the negro, "what says `aw!'"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Aw's agwine wid us."

"What--the sportsman--eh?"

"Yes, massa. On'y I don't b'lieve he ever sported nuffin but a swagger,
and--and--`aw!' W'en I git up dis mornin' I heerd 'im say to his
friend: `I say, Jack, wouldn't it--aw--be dooced good fun to go and--
aw--hab a slap at de Injins?' If de Injins send a spear troo his
libber--aw--he'll not t'ink it sitch fun!"

"That's true, Quash, but the same may be said of ourselves."

"Not so, massa, 'cause we nebber said it would be `dooced good fun.'"

"There's something in that, Quash, but you shouldn't let feelings of
ill-will to any one get the mastery of you. Men of