artillery, without the loss of a single gun or the addition of a
single horse, into a battalion of cavalry."

We had escorted the President back to the Palace, and I was returning
to the barracks at the head of the Legion, with the local band playing
grandly before me, and the people bowing from the sidewalks, when a
girl on a gray pony turned into the plaza and rode toward us.

She was followed by a group of white men, but I saw only the girl.
When I recognized even at a distance that she was a girl from the
States my satisfaction was unbounded. It had needed only the presence
of such an audience to give the final touch of pleasure to my
triumphant progress. My new uniform had been finished only just in
time.

When I first saw the girl I was startled merely because any white
woman in Honduras is an unusual spectacle, but as she rode nearer I
knew that, had I seen this girl at home among a thousand women, I
would have looked only at her.

She wore a white riding-habit, and a high-peaked Mexican sombrero, and
when her pony shied at the sound of the music she raised her head, and
the sun struck on the burnished braid around the brim, and framed her
face with a rim of silver. I had never seen such a face. It was so
beautiful that I drew a great breath of wonder, and my throat
tightened with the deep delight that rose in me.

I stared at her as she rode forward, because I could not help myself.
If an earthquake had opened a crevasse at my feet I would not have
lowered my eyes. I had time to guess who she was, for I knew there