Gridley, you may fire when you are ready.
[Cannon within. Exeunt, hurriedly, Incumbent and Born Candidate.]
That’s all—I never had the least intention
Of facing a political convention.
AT SANTIAGO
Toral. Shafter.
Toral—Ah, Señor, it was an anxious night—that of July 2. The angel of sleep did not visit me, and my pillow—I shame not to say it—was wet with tears.
Shafter—Me too. I never swore so much in my life. I tried every way to sleep, but couldn’t make it go.
Tor.—How sad! Señor, we are no longer enemies, and we are alone. May I hope that Heaven will put it into your heart to tell me why you slept not that unhappy night?