How he longed to see her.
How fitting it seemed that the romance of his life, that had obtained its first lease in San Juan, should complete the circuit there, amid these well remembered scenes.
It was concert night.
Even with a hostile army marching against the capital these Spanish soldiers, who, as old campaigners laughed at fate, did not mean to be cheated out of their usual pleasure.
Among the throngs on the plaza Roderic sauntered, looking eagerly for the face his heart yearned to see.
Some few discreet people had left the capital and gone away, pending the anticipated bombardment; but the grand rush of panic stricken fugitives would not begin until the first shell from the Yankee fleet came screaming into town.
It had been so on the previous occasion, and those who for five hours that morning saw the steady, jostling, excited, almost demoralized stream of humanity that poured along the one road leading out of San Juan, many carrying their most cherished household possessions upon their backs, would never forget the remarkable spectacle.
Roderic's search was however, not without some result, for he had several glimpses of his cousin Cleo in the crowd.
She hung upon the arm of Captain Beven, and Miss Becky was of course along.