"What?" I cried, half mad with delight. "But where?—what place, señora? Tell me where!"
She laughed at my blindness. "Where, señor? You ask that? What did she call this gift—the exact words?"
"La vera cruz!" Even as the words passed my lips, the truth flashed upon me. I had indeed been stupid—blind!—blind not to have seen those faintly scratched letters on the gold; stupid not to have joined the symbolism of the gift to her words, "La Vera Cruz"!
I kissed the señora's hand with a fervor which, I trust, did not disturb the peace of mind of Captain Ugarte. Later she undertook to send to the care of Doña Dolores a message which, for the sake of precaution, I restricted to the one line:—
"La vera cruz is my guide and comforter."
Despite so joyful a revelation to glorify our stay at San Antonio, I felt no regrets when another week saw us started on to the north and east for Nacogdoches, the most eastward of the Spanish presidios in Texas.
The second day beyond that place we crossed the Sabine, and were left by our Spanish escort, being in the neutral zone.
On the afternoon of July the first we at last arrived at Natchitoches, only fifteen days short of a full year since we had departed on our long and eventful journey from Belle Fontaine.
Such greeting as we received from our officers at the fort may be better imagined than expressed. And not the least of my joys upon this happy occasion was that of hearing my brave and resolute friend hailed by his fellows, not as Lieutenant, but as Captain! We were alike astonished and gratified to learn that he had been entitled to that advanced rank since the twelfth of the preceding August. What was more, his services had been most handsomely noticed to Congress by President Jefferson.
As the Captain had arrived at the journey's end outworn and in miserable health, I restrained myself to remain with him long enough to assist in arranging the great mass of notes which, to the exultant delight of our countrymen, we brought to view by filing off the barrels of the six muskets.