"I had come on O'Donnell in the city plaza. We were sitting together in conversation when Mendoza walked up and greeted me with all possible cordiality, as a former comrade-in-arms. I found that the Administrator remembered me perfectly, and has kept track of me rather closely, the world over, considering distance and isolation."
"Did he know of your driving the powder wagons through the blazing buildings at Waterloo, when the regular postilions had deserted their charge?" asked the señora, with a smile of admiration.
"Yes," modestly. "He was kind enough to speak of it. When we left each other, he told me whenever I return to California to make his house my own. I am glad that I met him."
A knock shook the door.
Colonel Barcelo was outside.
"Silvia," he said, "I may say you have shown yourself to be an unusual woman, a woman of knowledge and acumen quite remarkable for your years."
"Come in and be seated, Crisostimo. Here is my friend, Captain Farquharson."
"Ah, yes. Thank you for the chair. Good day, Captain Farquharson," this last stiffly. "Well, what I want to decide is, shall I issue a pardon for that low-down Indian, Stanislaus? Padre Osuna is now in the reception room waiting for my answer."
"Does the padre wish for this pardon?"
"Yes."