But our neighbour was not the man to compromise himself unless there was a distinct chance of success. Had he learned any news favourable to the Royalist cause? If so, that might account for his action.
Silently we rode through the sleeping town and along the road to Callao, where José waited at an inn while I did the business which had brought me to the port. The bay was filled with shipping, and men were hard at work fitting out the transports for the troops ordered south.
"Isn't it rather risky to remove so many troops?" I asked the colonel. "Suppose the enemy should swoop down on the capital?"
"They're quite welcome to do so," he replied, with a laugh. "Lima is of no use to us really; it's Callao that matters."
"Are you going with them, colonel?"
"No; I stay behind with General Sucre."
There was one question I wanted very much to ask, but it was long before I could muster the courage to do so.
"Colonel," I said at length, "I want to ask a rather queer question, but I have reasons for it. Do you think the war will end in favour of the Spaniards?"
"That depends," he answered, looking at me in surprise. "It certainly will do so if our people quarrel among themselves, which is what the enemy reckon on. That is their sheet-anchor, in fact."
"Would a clever man think they had a chance just now?"