kicking up the white dust and with the Gatlings clanking and rumbling
behind them, they gave a most war-like impression. Miller, who had
reconnoitered the village before we entered it, stood watching us as
we came in. He said that we reminded him of troops of United States
cavalry as he had seen them on the alkali plains of New Mexico and
Arizona. It was again my duty to station our pickets and out-posts,
and as I came back after placing the sentries, the fires were
twinkling all over the plaza and throwing grotesque shadows of the men
and the mules against the white walls of the houses. It was a most
weird and impressive picture.

The troopers were exhausted with the forced march, and fell instantly
to sleep, but for a long time I sat outside the Town Hall talking with
General Laguerre and two of the Americans, Miller and old man Webster.
Their talk was about Aiken, who so far had accompanied us as an
untried prisoner. From what he had said to me on the march, and from
what I remembered of his manner when Captain Leeds informed him of the
loss of the guns, I was convinced that he was innocent of any
treachery.

I related to the others just what had occurred at the coast, and after
some talk with Aiken himself, Laguerre finally agreed that he was
innocent of any evil against him, and that Quay was the man who had
sold the secret. Laguerre then offered Aiken his choice of continuing
on with us, or of returning to the coast, and Aiken said that he would
prefer to go on with our column. Now that the Isthmian Line knew that
he had tried to assist Laguerre, his usefulness at the coast was at an
end. He added frankly that his only other reason for staying with us
was because he thought we were going to win. General Laguerre gave him
charge of our transport and commissary, that is of our twelve pack-