"See, Don Carlos!" said Dolores; "the flag of Spain! See, when Nature seeks to array herself in her most glorious dress how she chooses the colours of the most glorious of the nations." "The cloud has risen from the face of the setting sun," replied Evaña, "and I see the emblem of Spain before me sinking after the sun into the darkness of night. That sky is as a prophecy, giving to all of us an insight into what will shortly come to pass." "Buenas noches, Don Carlos, and a pleasant journey to you," said Doña Constancia laughing. "Come with me, Mr. Gordon; we will go back and leave these politicians to prophesy and discuss the future as long as they like." Removing his hat, Evaña shook hands gravely with her and with Gordon; then, as they walked away, he turned again to Dolores. "Yes," he said, "I see the flag of Spain painted on the sky in all its gorgeous colours, where but a few minutes ago there hung a dark, grey cloud. That cloud was as a veil hiding from us the unknown future; the veil has risen, and we stand face to face with the future, now no longer unknown to us. The news we have heard to-day is but news of the first step in the rapid downward course of Spain. Other news shall follow, which shall stir our hearts to their inmost depths, till we wake to the full knowledge that we are a free people. The genius of revolution shall set his foot upon Spain, shall crush our tyrant in the dust, and in crushing him shall break our chains for us for ever." "God grant it," said Marcelino; "then may we live in peace ourselves, Spaniards and Americans alike citizens of a new nation." Clinging to her brother's arm, Dolores looked in wonder on them both. There was silence for a space as the three stood side by side gazing on the western sky, where the gorgeous colours of the sunset faded gradually away, merging themselves into the grey tints of the evening twilight. So they stood for a space, each occupied with his own thoughts, each interpreting to himself as his desires led him the prophecy of the setting sun. Evaña took the hand of Dolores in his own and raised it to his lips, saying but one word: "Remember." "Always my friend, whatever happens," said Dolores. Grasping Marcelino by the hand, Don Carlos Evaña stood for one moment as though he would speak, his lips pressed tightly together, and the signs of deep emotion on his face. Then laying his other hand upon the shoulder of his friend, he bent forward and kissed him. "My brother," he said; then turning from them he mounted his horse and slowly rode away. Brother and sister stood silently side by side looking after him till the gray shades of the falling night closed around him, when Marcelino bent over Dolores and kissed her, putting his arm round her, and led her away back between the rows of the tall poplar trees to the quinta. "Marcelino," said Dolores, as they drew near to the quinta gate, "are men who are born to be great also always born to be unhappy?"