Fortunately a woman arrived from Lima with a drove of fifty mules, which our leader instantly pressed into the service, in spite of their lawful owner's protestations. She was a fine, handsome, and remarkable woman, who traded on her own account like a man, and she made a sturdy fight for her property. Directly the mules were seized she bounced into the colonel's room, her eyes ablaze.
"Good-morning, madam," said he courteously.
"It's a bad morning for me," she replied. "Do you know that your men have stolen my mules?"
"Not stolen, madam; only borrowed, by my orders, for the good of the Patriot cause."
"I defy you to keep them!" she cried. "See," and waving & paper, added triumphantly, "that will make you less high and mighty, Señor Englishman!"
The paper was a passport and protection signed by San Martin himself; but it produced no effect on the stubborn colonel.
"I am sorry, madam," he exclaimed, still courteously, "but my men need the mules. They shall be paid for, handsomely, but I must have them."
The woman gasped with astonishment, and pushing the paper close to the colonel's face, cried, "Are you blind? Can't you see General San Martin's name? Don't you know that he can have you shot to-day if he pleases?"
"Not to-day, madam. The swiftest messenger could not get here from Lima to-day; and thanks to your mules, which are really very fine animals, we shall begin to chase the Royalists at dawn."
Luckily she could not see my face as she broke into a torrent of abuse. She had a fine command of the Spanish language, which she used for his benefit, besides throwing in a number of odd phrases picked up from English sailors. And all the while the colonel beamed upon her genially, as if she were paying him the highest compliments. At length she announced, in high-pitched tones, that where her mules went there would she go also; she would not trust them to such a band of thieving scoundrels.