"That you owe to the Pampero, as you call this south-west wind, which clears the air for you about once a month, and a very good wind it is in its way, but of the best things it is possible to have too much. It was awfully cold when I inspected the troops this morning; some of the men looked blue with the cold and could hardly hold their muskets, this wind goes through you like a knife. I don't object to it on the parade ground once in a way, but I do object to it most decidedly in my own room. I must have something done to these windows, hear how they rattle."
"Unless you make up your mind quickly to some decisive action they will not annoy you much longer," replied Evaña.
"Ha, ha, my friend!" said Beresford; "that is your little game, is it? I thought you looked unusually solemn this morning. That Frenchman of yours, Liniers, is coming with a pack of Spanish curs behind him to pitchfork me into the sea. When may we expect his Excellency?"
"I think you know when to expect him better than I can tell you."
"Well, perhaps I do, but you see I am not trembling in my shoes yet."
"You are not afraid of Liniers, and you have no cause to fear him."
"Then who is this dreadful enemy who is more to be feared than the mighty Liniers?"
"The people of Buenos Aires."
General Beresford paused in his walk up and down the room and looked earnestly at Evaña, and a grave look came over his face as he slowly answered: