"Thank God for that!" I murmured reverently. "You can tell me the rest at your leisure."
"There isn't much to tell," he replied. "It seems that your father was suddenly surrounded in the mountains by a body of regulars, and ordered to submit. Taken by surprise, there was nothing else to do; but while he stood hesitating, some one—not the captain in charge—shot him down, and he remembers nothing more till he found himself in Callao. The governor, La Mar, happens to be a kind-hearted fellow; so he had your father's wound dressed, gave him the most comfortable cell, and altogether treated him so well that, in spite of a long illness, he is entirely recovered."
"This is better and better, José! I hope we shall have a chance of doing La Mar a good turn."
"Your father will be in a position to see to that, as San Martin has already made him a member of the government."
"That's all right then.—By-the-bye, have you seen Montilla?"
"Yes. The old fox plays the game well. He is delighted—so he says—to be able to hand over the estates, which he was keeping in trust for you, to the rightful owner."
"Do you think my father believes him?"
"I can't say. Your mother doesn't; neither do I."
"Nor I."
We remained silent for some minutes, when, Sorillo joining us, I told him the good news. At first he did not seem to comprehend. When he did, I thought he would take leave of his senses. Even José, who was not given to judging by outward show, was impressed by the man's genuine pleasure.