"At Caracas itself, yes. But in the interior they are fighting, as usual. The curse of Spanish rule has been succeeded by the still greater curse of chronic revolution." "But foreigners are admitted, I suppose? I run no risk of being clapped in prison as I was last time?" "Not the least. You can go and come as you please. You don't even require a passport. The Spaniards, who were once so hated, are now almost popular. I hear that several Spanish officers, who served in the royal army during the war, are now at Caracas, and have offered their swords to the government for the suppression of the present rebellion. Do you intend to stay long in Venezuela?" "I think not. In any case I shall see you before I leave for Europe. Much depends on whether I find my friend Carmen alive." "Carmen, Carmen! I seem to know the name. Is he a general?" "Scarcely, I should think. He was only a _teniente_ of guerillas when we parted some ten years ago." "They are all generals now, my dear sir, and as plentiful as frogs in my native land. If you are ever in doubt as to the rank of a Venezolano, you are always safe in addressing him as a general. Yes, I fancy you will find your friend alive. At any rate, there is a General Carmen, rather a leading man among the Blues, I think, and sometimes spoken of as a probable president. You will, of course, put up at the Hotel de los Generales. Ah, here is Bernhard with the five hundred dollars in hard money, for which you asked. If you should want more, draw on us at sight. I will give you a letter of introduction to the house of Blühm & Bluthner at Caracas, who will be glad to cash your drafts at the current rate of exchange, and to whose care I will address any letters I may have occasion to write to you." This concluded my business with Mr. Van Voorst, and three days later I was once more in Caracas. I found the place very little altered, less than I was myself. I had entered it in high spirits, full of hope, eager for adventure, and intent on making my fortune. Now my heart was heavy with sorrow and bitter with disappointment. Though I had made my fortune, I had lost, as I thought, both the buoyancy of youth and the capacity for enjoyment, and I looked forward to the future without either hope or desire. As I rode with Ramon into the _patio_ of the hotel, where I had been arrested by the alguazils of the Spanish governor, a man came forward to greet me, so strikingly like the ancient _posadero_ that I felt sure he was the latter's son. My surmise proved correct, and I afterwards heard, not without a sense of satisfaction, that the father was hanged by the patriots when they recaptured Caracas.