"We hadn't noticed it," said the general.

The staff officers, according to regulations, laughed.

"It's not that kind of a charm," said Chesterton. "Good-by, General."

The road was hardly more than a trail, but the moon made it as light as
day, and cast across it black tracings of the swinging vines and
creepers; while high in the air it turned the polished surface of the
palms into glittering silver. As he plunged into the cool depths of the
forest Chesterton threw up his arms and thanked God that he was moving
toward her. The luck that had accompanied him throughout the campaign
had held until the end. Had he been forced to wait for a transport, each
hour would have meant a month of torment, an arid, wasted place in his
life. As it was, with each eager stride of El Capitan, his little Porto
Rican pony he was brought closer to her. He was so happy that as he
galloped through the dark shadows of the jungle or out into the
brilliant moonlight he shouted aloud and sang; and again as he urged El
Capitan to greater bursts of speed, he explained in joyous, breathless
phrases why it was that he urged him on.

"For she is wonderful and most beautiful," he cried, "the most glorious
girl in all the world! And, if I kept her waiting, even for a moment, El
Capitan, I would be unworthy--and I might lose her! So you see we ride
for a great prize!"

The Spanish column that, the night before, had been driven from
Adhuntas, now in ignorance of peace, occupied both sides of the valley
through which ran the road to Mayaguez, and in ambush by the road itself
had placed an outpost of two men. One was a sharp-shooter of the picked