A mile on we overtook our companions, and Hildegarde’s eyes sparkled with tears of joy when I drew alongside.
Jalapa proved to be near at hand; indeed, although we had not suspected it at the time, the river was really the border of the territory.
At Jalapa we lost all our fears.
Here even ex-presidents could breathe in peace.
We engaged passage on the first steamer soon to start for New York.
I would not feel entirely easy until I had shaken the republican dust of these Central American countries from my feet—they were much too hot for me.
At Jalapa we had some good news.
A party of shipwrecked persons had been brought in by the coast guard, hungry and nearly exhausted—among others a woman.
It was Diana—the sea had not claimed her, as I feared; and a year later at a London hotel I met Gustavus and his wife, so that, being together some days, we were able to compare notes of that fearful experience; and the ladies actually became friends.
Poor Cummings was drowned, also the cook and two of the men. I made it a point of honor to hunt up their relatives and liberally settle all that was due the poor fellows three times over.