"I have been loyal to my king; I have done my duty," he continued, not heeding the interruption. "Life is precious, Juan, but honour is the first thing. My name is unstained. I die as I have lived, a cavalier of Spain!" That thought cheered him as he took his last and long journey. He was young and handsome and well beloved; he had fair estates and hosts of friends; he might have risen high in the councils of his nation; but death, stern and unyielding, claimed him, and he braced himself to meet it. "Thank God!" he murmured; "I die with a clear conscience." I stayed with him till nearly midnight, when he became unconscious. Then having work to do, I sorrowfully went away. Next morning, on my way to the hut I met General Miller. "Poor fellow!" he said, when I told him of Santiago's state. "I will come with you. I remember him well." Just as we were moving on, we met General Sucre accompanied by a Spanish officer, who on seeing Miller ran forward and embraced him. "I know you!" he cried. "I am Valdes. You and I must be friends." Then turning to General Sucre, he added, "This Miller has often kept us on the move. I am called active; but he was a regular wizard--here, there, everywhere, without giving a clue to his intentions until he dealt us some sly blow." I looked at this celebrated Spanish general with a great deal of interest. He was a small, spare man, with keen eyes and rough, weather-beaten face. He wore a broad-brimmed beaver hat, a coarse gray surtout, and long brown worsted leggings. He stooped slightly, and to judge by appearances, one would never have thought he was perhaps the finest soldier in the Spanish service. Sucre left the two chatting, and presently Miller said, "I was just going to visit one of your men, a Colonel Mariano. Do you know him?" "Mariano? He was my best cavalry officer. It was he who helped me to cut up your rearguard some time ago, and to drive back your left wing yesterday. I'll come with you." "He will be very pleased to see you, no doubt.--You go first and show us the way, Crawford." Santiago lay with closed eyes, breathing so faintly that at first we thought he was dead. "Santiago," I softly whispered, "do you know me? I have brought you a visitor." His eyes opened slowly, and there was a fleeting smile in them, but he did not speak. "Colonel!" said Valdes, stepping to the side of the bench. The sound of that voice brought the poor fellow for a short time from the Valley of the Shadow. By some extraordinary means he managed to sit up without assistance, raised his hand to the salute, and in a clear, ringing voice exclaimed, "At your service, general!" It was the last act of his life. On placing my arm round him to prevent him from falling, I found he was dead. "A fine fellow," said General Miller quietly. "A thorough soldier to the end!" cried the Spanish general. I said nothing, but mourned none the less the true friend I had found in the ranks of our enemies.