lympian indifference; you aren't even willing to put yourself
out to go with me from here to the Presidency. That is unworthy,
shameful! I have excused many things in my life, Perico; but this goes
beyond bounds."

Rivera, in saying these words, trembled with indignation.

"Don't be so explosive man! why, I have not yet refused to go with you
to the Presidency, or anywhere else," said Mendoza, laying his hand on
his shoulder, while his lips were curved by that humble smile which
Miguel compared to that of "a Newfoundland dog." "Come on! let us go
this very moment to the Presidency!"

"Come on, then," said Rivera dryly, getting up.

After going a few steps his vexation subsided.

When they reached there, the President had not yet come in. Mendoza, as
a deputy, made his way immediately into the office, and there they both
waited, taking a comfortable seat on a sofa while the throng of
office-hunters were spoiling in the anteroom. It was not long before
there was the sound of a carriage under the _porte cochere_: instantly
all the bells in the house began to jingle madly.

"Here comes the President," said Mendoza.

Indeed, in a few seconds he came into the office, accompanied by a
number of deputies. Seeing Mendoza, he greeted him in the free and easy
tone with which he greeted the friends who came every day.

"Well worked up, my dear Mendoza, well worked up. It has produced a very
good effect."

He alluded to the speech.

Mendoza, instead of being embarrassed by the greatness of the personage
before whom he stood, replied in the same familiar and fluent tone. This
self-possession did not fail to impress Miguel; for he, being more
accustomed to social intercourse, could not help feeling some emotion of
respect before the man who held the reins of government.

The President was about fifty years old: he was fair and pale, with
regular, and not unpleasing, features; the only thing that disfigured
his face was a row of huge teeth, which were apt to be uncovered when he
smiled; and this he did frequently, not to say incessantly.

"I present my friend, Miguel Rivera, who is now the actual editor of _La
Independencia_."

"I have heard of this gentleman. I am very, very glad to make your
acquaintance, Senor Rivera," said the President, shaking hands with
exceeding amiability. "You will excuse me a moment, will you not?" he
added, touching them both on the shoulder; "I have to speak a few words
with these gentlemen