Maccario smiled, and showed himself, like most men of his nationality, willing to moralize. “Strength comes with unity of purpose,” he said. “I am, as an example, anxious only to do what I can to promote Cuban independence, and a very little on behalf of a certain patriot Maccario. The latter, you understand, is permissible, and almost a duty. Morales, one admits, has at heart the upholding of Spanish domination, and it is at least as certain that any opportunity of profiting one Morales is seized by him. It would not, however, become me to censure him, but the defect is this—Morales always remembers the man who has injured him.” “One would fancy it was a shortcoming which is not unknown among the Sin Verguenza!” Maccario made a little gesture. “In reason, it is scarcely a defect, but with Morales it is a passion which is apt to betray into indiscretions a man who should have nothing at heart but the good of his country and the good of himself.” “I think I understand. You mean—‐” “That Morales will endeavor to crush us even if he knows it will cost him a good deal. Cuba is not large enough for a certain three men to live in it together.” “Then his slowness is the more inexplicable.” “I have a notion that there may be an explanation which would not quite please me. It is conceivable that our comrades from beyond the mountains are moving, and he fears an assault upon Santa Marta.” “In that case you could seize the town by joining hands with them.” Maccario smiled. “If we wait a little we can drive Morales out ourselves; and this district belongs to us, you understand. We have watched over it for a long while, and it would not be convenient that others who have done nothing should divide what is to be gained with us when we have secured its liberty.” Appleby laughed, for his companion’s naive frankness frequently delighted him. “Then,” he said, “the only thing would be a prompt assault upon the town, but that is apparently out of the question.” “Who knows!” said Maccario, with a little expressive movement of his shoulders, and sat thoughtfully silent looking down towards Santa Marta across the cane.