"I did, father."
"Our people are much indebted to the Americans for the prosperity into which we have come. I have some more good news to tell you now."
"What is it?" asked Vasco, his face aglow with eager anticipation.
"To-morrow a public school is to be opened, and I have decided that you shall attend."
This conversation occurred on Sunday, the day after Vasco's arrival home. The lieutenant was making his usual Sunday visit with his family, though he had come a little late on account of army affairs that had called him to the Blue House—the President's mansion. It was there that he had learned about the school.
Vasco received the information with a doubtful smile. A few weeks before he would have been sad to hear such a suggestion. But his acquaintance with Harlan, and especially the close companionship of the past week, had wrought certain changes in his spirit, and a dawning ambition had begun to arise within him.
He had come to see that there was a world different from that in which he had lived,—that his friend Harlan was of that world,—and that the key to that world was knowledge. And knowledge, he knew, could be obtained only by hard labour. Was it worth the effort?
That was the question Vasco asked himself as he stood before his father.
To his credit be it said that his answer was the right one.