San Martin returned to Peru, and announced that Bolivar was coming with his Army to aid the Country. He then resigned his command, refusing all the honours heaped upon him by the grateful Peruvian Government. But, he said, that if the Republic of Peru were ever in danger, he would glory in joining as a citizen in her defense. Then, to the sorrowing Peruvian People, he issued a farewell address, assuring them, that since their Independence was secured, he was now about to fulfil his sacred promise and leave them to govern themselves, adding:-- “_God grant that success may preside over your destinies, and that you may reach the summit of felicity and peace._” That same night, San Martin mounted his horse and rode away into the darkness. He had left Peru forever. He passed through Chile and laid down his command; then he crossed the Andes to rest for a while on his little farm at Mendoza. There the terrible news reached him that his wife had died in Buenos Aires. All that she had meant to him, he himself expressed in the simple words:-- “The wife and friend of General San Martin.” His trials were not yet over. For on his reaching Buenos Aires, its officials met him coldly and scornfully. Then San Martin, ill, sorrowful, and forsaken, took his little daughter in his arms, and going aboard a ship sailed for Europe. Thus he left Argentina, and went into voluntary exile. He never saw Buenos Aires again. Five years later, longing to retire quietly on his farm at Mendoza, he returned to Argentina. He never left the ship. He learned that if he did so, old political factions would rise up again, and civil war might threaten Argentina. So he sailed back to Europe. There he looked after his daughter’s education. And in his old age, he lived comfortably in a small country house on the bank of the Seine. He cared for his garden, tended his flowers, and read his books, until his sight began to fail. At the age of seventy-two, still a voluntary exile for the good of his Country, he died in his dear daughter’s arms. “I desire,” said he, “that my heart should rest in Buenos Aires.” THE MYSTERY SOLVED What was the mystery, that had made San Martin at the height of his success, bow his head in silence and go into voluntary exile? His enemies reviled him. Even some of his friends accused him of deserting his post in time of need. But he neither complained nor explained. A great act of self-abnegation may not be hidden forever. Years passed by, then San Martin’s noble purpose came to light. At that Amazing Meeting, after he and Bolivar had exchanged opposing views as to the best form of government for Spanish America, they began to discuss the liberation of Peru.