"Well, she died,--rest her soul!--and
Parsloe too. But they had a daughter, and
she survives them."

"And resembles her mother, eh?--No,
Trednoke, the time for that sort of thing
has gone by with me. Susan might have
had me, five-and-forty years ago; but I
can't undertake to revive my passion for
the benefit of Mrs. Parsloe's daughter.
Besides, I'm too busy to think of marriage,
and not--not old enough!"

At this tour de force, the general laughed
softly, and finished his coffee. An old
Indian, somewhat remarkable in appearance,
with shaggy white hair hanging down on
his shoulders, stepped forward from the
room where he had been waiting, and
removed the cup.

"No letters yet, Kamaiakan?" asked the
general, in Spanish.

"In a few minutes, general," the other
replied. "Pablo has just come in sight
over the hill. There were several errands."

"Muy buen!--I was going to say,
Meschines, her father and mother left the girl