"Wait till he's been scrubbed a few times," suggested Plaza. "The legion should be proud of these 'young bloods.' What airs and graces! What remarkable and novel costumes! What—"
"Can any one lend me a shirt?" interrupted Alzura.
"A shirt?" exclaimed Cordova. "My dear fellow, I have a dozen, quite clean and doing nothing, I shall be proud to let you and Crawford each have one."
"Oh, thanks!" said Alzura. "I thought something practical ought to come from all that talk. Come on, my boy, let's have them at once. Where are they?"
"Just down in Lima. You have only to—" but a roar of laughter drowned the end of the sentence.
"You really don't require one," remarked Plaza; "it would spoil the rest of your uniform—that is, if you have one under that dirt."
Every one was still enjoying the joke, when a number of officers in brilliant uniforms approached our quarter of the plain. In the leader I recognized Bolivar; and, to my great satisfaction, Colonel Miller was one of his suite.
"Your men seem to be enjoying themselves, colonel," we heard Bolivar remark; "what is it all about?"
At that moment Miller caught sight of us, and leaving the general's question unanswered, called us over, saying, "Alzura! Crawford! Where have you been, my boys? We had quite given you up.—General, these are two of my young officers who have been missing for months."
Bolivar, who was in good humour that morning, made us stand by him and relate our adventures. Then he complimented us on our pluck, and turning to an officer, said, "Take these youngsters to O'Brien, and ask him to supply them with decent clothing; they have at least earned that. And I am very proud of you, boys; and so, no doubt, are your comrades." At which Plaza led off a round of cheering.