The next day we arrive at Champerico, but no one goes ashore; we stay so short a time.
The deck party breaks up early that night, everyone anxious to be ready for the six o'clock breakfast call next morning.
"To-morrow ve air at San José de Guatemala, and much can happen before ve see San Miguel again." The Baron takes my hand at the saloon door as I say good-night.
"That's the second time you've made that ominous remark, Baron de Bach. What do you mean?"
"Baron de Bach!" he echoes. "My name ees 'Guillermo,' Blanca."
Somehow it doesn't seem so familiar or significant as if he said "Blanche."
"What do you think will happen to us in Guatemala, Guillermo?"
"Blanca vill see;" he lifts the hand with the rosary falling about it to his lips and kisses the crucifix.
"Good-night, Guillermo."
"Good-night, Blanca."