Few spoke in this strain, and I was disappointed that even José took sides with the majority. Sentiment, beyond his love for us, did not appeal to him; he looked only on the practical side of things.
"I shouldn't have thought San Martin would have thrown up the sponge," said he. "I gave him credit for more pluck than that. They do say in the town that he was keen on making himself king or emperor."
"A pack of rubbish!" I cried.
"Well," said José, "I would have seen the thing through, anyhow. It won't be pleasant for your father, either, when Bolivar gets the whip-hand. San Martin's friends will be in Bolivar's black books. I'll guarantee Montilla has written to him already."
"You aren't in a very good temper this morning, José," said I, with a laugh.
"No; because I am looking a long way ahead, and see things. Is your father going to keep in office?"
"I expect so. He may be able to do the country a little good."
"And himself a lot of harm! Shall you resign your commission?"
"How can I? the Spaniards are still in the field."
"And will take a lot of beating yet! 'Twould have answered better if the Peruvians had done the job by themselves."