.

"I noticed at the first glance that his face, already very red, wore an
expression of high good-humour.

"'Aha! senor teniente,' he cried loudly, as I saluted at the door.
'Behold! Your strong man has turned up again.'

"He extended to me a folded letter, which I saw was superscribed 'To the
Commander-in-Chief of the Republican Armies.'

"'This,' General Robles went on in his loud voice, 'was thrust by a boy
into the hand of a sentry at the Quartel General, while the fellow stood
there thinking of his girl, no doubt--for before he could gather his
wits together, the boy had disappeared amongst the market people, and he
protests he could not recognise him to save his life.'

"My chief told me further that the soldier had given the letter to the
sergeant of the guard, and that ultimately it had reached the hands of
our generalissimo. His Excellency had deigned to take cognisance of it
with his own eyes. After that he had referred the matter in confidence
to General Robles.

"The letter, senores, I cannot now recollect textually. I saw the
signature of Gaspar Ruiz. He was an audacious fellow. He had snatched a
soul for himself out of a cataclysm, remember. And now it was that
soul which had dictated the terms of his letter. Its tone was very
independent. I remember it struck me at the time as noble--dignified. It
was, no doubt, her letter. Now I shudder at the depth of its duplicity.
Gaspar Ruiz was made to complain of the injustice of which he had been
a victim. He invoked his previous record of fidelity and courage. Having
been saved from death by the miraculous interposition of Providence, he
could think of nothing but of retrieving his character. This, he wrote,
he could not hope to do in the ranks as a discredited soldier still
under suspicion. He had the means to give a striking proof of his
fidelity. And he ended by proposing to the General-in-Chief a meeting at
midnight in the middle of the Plaza before the Moneta. The signal would
be to strike fire with flint and steel three times, which was not too
conspicuous and yet distinctive enough for recognition.

"San Martin, the great Liberator, loved men of audacity and courage.
Besides, he was just and compassionate. I told him as much of the man's
story as I knew, and was ordered to accompany him on the appointed
night. The signals were duly exchanged. It was midnight, and the whole
town was dark and silent. Their two cloaked figures came together in
the ce