"You are a true friend, Crawford, but you are a true patriot and a shrewd man as well. Now listen to me. Without help it will take two years at least to subdue the Spaniards. That will mean two years of misery. Do you follow me?" "Perfectly." "With help the war can be brought to an end in six months. The Chilians can do no more, and we can look only to Bolivar. Now, do you imagine that he and I can run in double harness?" My father shook his head sorrowfully. "Of course not. Bolivar is a great man, a remarkable man; but he is ambitious, and will brook no rival. Now, suppose I remain. It will be difficult to avoid strife, and the country will be plunged back into its old condition of slavery. Do you think that San Martin will give a day of delight to the common enemy? No, my friend; if only Peru retains its independence, I care nothing for self. Let men call me what they please. The path of duty lies plain before me; I am going to walk in it. Let Bolivar have the glory; it is but a breath. I shall not say this publicly; neither will you. I am broken in health; let that do for the present. In years to come, perhaps, the world will recognize my good faith; if not, never mind!" Even after that my father endeavoured to dissuade him from going, but his efforts were useless. "Let me wish you good-bye, Crawford," said he. "I need hardly counsel you to accept the help which Bolivar offers. The man may not please you, but--country first!--Good-bye, my boy; if you make half as good a man as your father, you will not do amiss." We grasped his hand for the last time, and leaving Guido with him, went into the road, mounted our horses, and rode slowly homeward. Next day it became known that San Martin had left Peru for ever, and instantly men's tongues were loosed in a babel of talk. Some few judged him rightly; but for the most part his splendid services were forgotten, and with sickening haste people turned their gaze toward Bolivar, the new sun. "There is a lesson for you, Jack, worth heeding," remarked my father. "If only these people knew the truth!" "They wouldn't understand it!" said I hotly. "The idea of a man making such a sacrifice is beyond them. You know I have sometimes thought the general made a big mistake in the conduct of the war, but he atoned for everything last night. He looked simply splendid when he talked about giving up everything for duty." "Ah!" exclaimed my father thoughtfully, "with all his battles to look back upon, he never won a greater victory than he did last evening. It must almost have broken his heart, Jack, but he did not whimper." Few spoke in this strain, and I was disappointed that even Jose took sides with the majority. Sentiment, beyond his love for us, did not appeal to him; he looked only on the practical side of things.