neral expression
savored of the camp. The other was an Englishman, with all his
country beaming in his face, tall in stature, light in complexion,
with gray eyes, and open, frank expression. He had a thin mustache,
flaxen side whiskers, and no beard. He stood in an easy, nonchalant
attitude, with an eye-glass stuck in one eye, and a light cane in his
hand, which he switched carelessly upon his leg.

At length the two were roused by the approach of a party of people
who were undoubtedly the very ones for whom they had been thus
waiting.

This party consisted of three persons. First, there was an elderly
man, florid, stoutish, and fussy--the Paterfamilias of Punch, with a
dash of the heavy father of comedy. He was evidently in a terrible
strait, and halting between two opinions, namely, whether he should
stay and watch over his family, or go away and see after his luggage.

Then there was a lady of certain or uncertain age--a faded,
washed-out blonde, who surveyed the scene with a mixture of
trepidation and caution.

Neither of these, however, could have had any interest in the eyes of
the two watchers; and it must have been the third member of this
party who had led them to lie in wait.

In truth, this third one seemed well worthy of such attention. She
was a young lady, of slight and elegant figure; with a sweet and
lovely face, round, arch, full of liveliness, merriment, and
volatility, which were expressed in every glance of her sparkling
eyes. And while the man fidgeted and the woman fussed, this young
person stood with admirable self-possession, looking round
inquiringly, as though she too might be expecting some one.

Paterfamilias hesitated a little longer, and then made up his mind,
for, telling the ladies to wait, he hurried away after his luggage.
No sooner had he gone than the two young men, who had held back till
then, hurried to the spot. The Englishman reached it first. The elder
lady, on seeing him, stared for an instant, and then abruptly turned
her back, thus giving him the cut direct in the most pointed and
insulting manner. In thus turning she found herself face to face with
the Spaniard, who made a very ceremonious bow, saying,

"It gif me mooch pleasure, Madame Russell, to pay my respetts, an' to
weesh the good-day."

At this the lady hesitated, as though intending to give this man also
the cut, but finally she chose to be gracious; so extending her hand,
she said,

"Thanks, Captain Lope