"Very well; let him be ready to-morrow morning. I will let Colonel Miller know of the arrangement."
"Jack," exclaimed my father when San Martin had gone, "this is a great honour for you. I don't expect the protector will take any one else, except Guido, who goes with him everywhere. I almost envy you, my boy, for San Martin and Bolivar are certainly the two most wonderful men in South America."
"Will there be any danger?" asked my mother.
"I think not; the visit is a friendly one."
The next day, having put on my gaudiest uniform, blue with red facings, white edging, and abundance of gold lace, I went over to Callao, meeting the general and his "aid" just as they were embarking on the schooner Macedonia. As usual, the general looked grave and rather stern. He was very silent too, and as the schooner slipped from her moorings he disappeared within his cabin. Guido, who shared a cabin with me, was far less reserved than his chief.
"This is a fool's errand," said he brusquely. "The protector is just playing into Bolivar's hands."
"He knows what he is doing, I think."
"That makes me the more angry. But for him the Spaniards would still be in possession of Peru; and now, rather than make a bother, he'll let the other fellow take the prize."
"What would you have him do?"
"Do?" cried he excitedly; "why, stand his ground. I would say, 'I have done all the hard work, I have made Peru free, and I am going to be master of the country. Let Bolivar or any one else come here at his peril!'"