The old soldier looked at the young man for a moment tenderly; then pressing with feverish energy the hand held out to him,—
"It is well, muchacho," he said to him with great emotion. "I was not mistaken in you; you are a brave lad, and, caray! I am satisfied with you."
The two men left Palmar together the next morning, and rode toward Mexico, which city they reached after a ten days' journey. But during those ten days, spent tête-à-tête with the captain, the young man's ideas were completely modified, and a perfect change came over his aspirations.
General Guerrero's son belonged unconsciously to that numerous class of men who are utterly ignorant of themselves, and pass their lives in indolence until the moment when, an object being suddenly offered them, their imagination is inflamed, their ambition is aroused, and they become as eager in the chase as they had been previously negligent and indifferent as to their future.
Captain Don Isidro Vargas heartily praised the intelligence with which the young man he emphatically called his pupil understood the lessons he gave him as to his behaviour in the world.
Don Sebastian experienced no difficulty—thanks to his name, and the reputation his father so justly enjoyed—in obtaining his grade as lieutenant in the army. This step was, for the young man, the first rung of the ladder, which he prepared to climb as rapidly as possible.
It was fine work at that day, in Mexico, for an intelligent man to fish in troubled waters; and, unfortunately, we are obliged to confess that, in spite of the long years that have passed since the proclamation of its independence, nothing is as yet changed in that unhappy country, where anarchy has been systematised.
If ever a country could do without an army, it was Mexico after the recognition of her liberty and the entire expulsion of the Spaniards, owing to her isolation in the midst of peaceful nations, and the security of her frontiers, which no enemy menaced. Unhappily, the war of independence had lasted ten years. During that long period the peaceful and gentle population of that country, held in guardianship by its oppressors, had become transformed. A warlike ardour had seized on all classes of society, and a species of martial fever had aroused in every brain a love of arms.
Hence that naturally came about which all sensible people expected; that is to say, when the army had no longer enemies before it to combat, the troops turned their arms against their fellow citizens, vexing and tyrannising over them at their pleasure.
The government, instead of disbanding this turbulent army, or at any rate reducing it to a minimum by only keeping up the depôts of the various corps, considered it far more advantageous to lean on it, and organise a military oligarchy, which pressed heavily on the country. This deplorable system has plunged this unhappy country into disastrous complications, against which it struggles in vain, and has dug the abyss in which its nationality will sooner or later be swallowed up.