"There goes Evaña to visit the friend," said one as he turned into a street leading to the Plaza Mayor; and they to whom this man spoke gave him no salutation, and looked after him, as he passed on, scowlingly. General Beresford was writing, but was not particularly occupied for the moment, and rose smilingly to meet Evaña as he entered his apartment, stretching out his hand to him in welcome. Evaña took his hand somewhat coldly, and laying his hat on a table seated himself. "You do well to keep your cloak on," said Beresford, walking up and down, and stamping his feet upon the tiled floor. "There is one thing of which you Porteños have no notion, and that is how to make yourselves comfortable in cold weather. Look here at this large, half-empty room without a fireplace, how can you expect a Christian to live in such a room in such weather as this? Why in England the horses are better lodged than you are here. There is not a window that fits tight, and as for the doors, they seem made on purpose to let the wind in instead of keeping it out. It comes in from both doors and windows in little gusts which would give a horse his death of cold, to say nothing of a man." "Yet we don't die quicker than other people, that I can see," replied Evaña; "our city is noted for its healthiness." "That you owe to the Pampero, as you call this south-west wind, which clears the air for you about once a month, and a very good wind it is in its way, but of the best things it is possible to have too much. It was awfully cold when I inspected the troops this morning; some of the men looked blue with the cold and could hardly hold their muskets, this wind goes through you like a knife. I don't object to it on the parade ground once in a way, but I do object to it most decidedly in my own room. I must have something done to these windows, hear how they rattle." "Unless you make up your mind quickly to some decisive action they will not annoy you much longer," replied Evaña. "Ha, ha, my friend!" said Beresford; "that is your little game, is it? I thought you looked unusually solemn this morning. That Frenchman of yours, Liniers, is coming with a pack of Spanish curs behind him to pitchfork me into the sea. When may we expect his Excellency?" "I think you know when to expect him better than I can tell you." "Well, perhaps I do, but you see I am not trembling in my shoes yet." "You are not afraid of Liniers, and you have no cause to fear _him_." "Then who is this dreadful enemy who is more to be feared than the mighty Liniers?" "The people of Buenos Aires." General Beresford paused in his walk up and down the room and looked earnestly at Evaña, and a grave look came over his face as he slowly answered: "You mean what you say?" Evaña merely bowed his head in reply, and Beresford renewed his pacing up and down, evidently in deep thought. Then pausing again he resumed: