“I think so,” he replied, glancing at me a bit doubtfully. “The only thing still to be settled is the matter of terms. I have not much money left to satisfy the owners, who have no confidence in their being able to collect when we arrive at Colombia. But I hope it can yet be arranged in a satisfactory manner.” “I also hope so,” she returned, “for I am anxious to travel home in your company.” “You!” he exclaimed in unfeigned astonishment. “Yes. I have just received letters of absolute pardon from the government. I am free to return to my home in Bogota whenever I please.” “You surprise me, Señora,” he said, evidently disturbed by the news. Then he took the lady aside, and while they were conversing privately Alfonso said to us: “De Alcantara, her husband, was the first leader of the revolution, and was killed in battle two years ago. His wife and daughter fled to Australia and their estates were confiscated. This is indeed surprising news; but I think the government wishes to placate the wealthy classes by this lenient action.” Señor de Jiminez returned to our group smiling and content. I overheard Madam de Alcantara say in Spanish to Madam de Jiminez. “Never, under any circumstances, will I abandon the Cause. I shall return to my estates, because here I am an exile and dependent upon our friends for maintenance. There I may intrigue to advance the revolution, although I am warned against mixing in politics if I accept the government’s amnesty.” “The Cause is sacred to us all,” was the calm reply. Lucia de Alcantara was at once monopolized by Alfonso, who deserted us to pay the young girl marked attention. She did not appear to resent this; neither did she respond with much enthusiasm. She was really a beautiful girl, not more than fifteen or sixteen years of age, and her slender, willowy form towered so far above the undersized Alfonso that I remarked to Joe, aside: “That certainly is the long and short of it old man, isn’t it?” “I suppose there will be accommodations in the _Seagull_ for the ladies?” inquired Señor de Jiminez. “Yes,” said I; “they might be made fairly comfortable.” He said no more then, but presently sat down to a quiet game of bezique with Madam de Alcantara, leaving Alfonso to entertain us as well as Lucia. We found that the girl spoke English, and she became so interested in our accounts of the United States that she fairly ignored the youthful Colombian to question us about our country, our ship, and the chances of our sailing together across the South Seas. It was quite late when they left, Alfonso and his father both escorting their guests to the carriage, and on their return Joe and I pleaded fatigue and retired to our rooms. “Well, Joe,” I said, when we were alone, “what do you think now?” “Mighty pretty girl,” he returned musingly. “But about the business deal?”