for he was a bitter foe of our independence. From a position of great
dignity and influence on the Viceroy's Council he became of less
importance than his own negro slaves made free by our glorious
revolution. He had not even the means to flee the country, as other
Spaniards had managed to do. It may be that, wandering ruined and
houseless, and burdened with nothing but his life, which was left to
him by the clemency of the Provisional Government, he had simply
walked under that broken roof of old tiles. It was a lonely spot.
There did not seem to be even a dog belonging to the place. But though
the roof had holes, as if a cannonball or two had dropped through it,
the wooden shutters were thick and tight-closed all the time.

"My way took me frequently along the path in front of that miserable
rancho. I rode from the fort to the town almost every evening, to sigh
at the window of a lady I was in love with, then. When one is young,
you understand . . . . She was a good patriot, you may be sure.
Caballeros, credit me or not, political feeling ran so high in those
days that I do not believe I could have been fascinated by the charms
of a woman of Royalist opinions. . . ."

Murmurs of amused incredulity all round the table interrupted the
General; and while they lasted he stroked his white beard gravely.

"Senores," he protested, "a Royalist was a monster to our overwrought
feelings. I am telling you this in order not to be suspected of the
slightest tenderness towards that old Royalist's daughter. Moreover,
as you know, my affections were engaged elsewhere. But I could not
help noticing her on rare occasions when with the front door open she
stood in the porch.