’Had a little trouble getting them out of the city again,’ I told him; ’but I went with them, and as soon as they smelt the grub in the barracks, they bolted for it.’ He smiled again, ’Good little chaps!’ Of course I did not tell him of that warrant. ’If he gets over the first three or four days safely he’ll be all right,’ Dr. Robson told me; and before the British Minister went away, I implored him to try and get leave for me to stay in Santa Cruz till then. He was awfully decent, drove straight away to the Club, found Captain Roger Hill, got leave not only for me but for Cousin Bob, and made us stay at his house too—which was jolly kind of him. As it was not far from General Zorilla’s house we could very often run in to see Gerald for a few minutes at a time. They sent our clothes up from the ship, and as Gerald went on very well indeed, we had quite a good time; but on the second day after he’d been shot, I had to get into my brother’s things and lead his little brown chaps down to Los Angelos. They wouldn’t go without him, were getting troublesome again, and the city was in deadly fear lest they should still take it into their heads to sack the place. The little chaps still took me for Gerald whilst I was on horseback, with his polo helmet jammed down over my head, but I don’t imagine that most of the officers did so. They pretended that I was Gerald in order to keep their men under control, and were much too anxious to get back to their homes and plantations in the provinces to give the show away. The ’Gnome’ and José both came with me to help the deception, and I heard the ’Gnome’ give a great sigh of relief when, eventually, the last of Gerald’s men were put aboard those transports inside the breakwater. As each transport steamed out of the harbour, the little Santa Cruz ships cheered wildly and the men cheered back, ’_Viva los Horizontals!’ ’Viva de Costa!’ ’Viva Don Geraldio!_’ and as the last one steamed slowly round the lighthouse and passed the _Hercules_, I could still hear cries of ’_Viva Don Geraldio!’ ’Viva los Inglesas!_’ I stood on the wharf for some time, watching the transports steaming along the coast, some northwards, the others to the south, and I really felt very sorry to see the last of the little chaps with whom I had gone through so many exciting days. I could see that the ’Gnome,’ however relieved he was for them to go away, felt as I did, and they seemed to have had so little reward for all they’d done in the last three months that you couldn’t help feeling that, after all their pluck and hardships, they hadn’t gained much for themselves. We rode slowly up the mountain to Santa Cruz, and at that sharp turning, where we had seen the yellow and green flag last flying, we stopped and for a minute watched the transports, little smoky dots on the glistening sea, a thousand feet below us, as they carried the brave little chaps to their homes.