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“ The two ladies . 
 A Maker of Nations'] 
 
 sprang to their feet.” (Page 262.) 
 
 {Ffonthpiece 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 By Guy Boothby, 
 
 Author of “ Dr, Nikola,” The Beautiful White Devil,” 
 “ Pharos, the Egyptian,” etc,, etc. 
 
 Illustrated by Gordon Browne. 
 
 London : 
 
 Ward, Lock & Co., Limited. 
 
 New York and Melbourne. 
 
 1900, 
 
/‘I 
 
 I 
 
 ! 
 
SMCY 
 
 V' 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 “ The two ladies .... sprang to their feet ’* Frontispiece 
 
 “ The French Minister .... seemed proud of the dis- 
 tinction ” .55 
 
 “Eeclining in a chair, listening to the music” . , 82 
 
 “ He turned to look at the lady ” 144 
 
 “ Coralie .... was now within earshot ” . . . 172 
 
 “ The track was little more than a goat-path . . . 193 
 
 “ A bullet .... hit the young trooper ” . , . 286 
 
 “ She gave a shriek .... and tumbled from her 
 
 saddle ” 314 
 
ffwy'' 
 
 
 ir 
 
 
A MAKER OF NATIONS. 
 
 ^ 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 “T ACCUSE Monsieur of cheating!” 
 
 A A moment before the room had been 
 a Babel of voices ; now there descended upon 
 it a sudden silence that was more the out- 
 come of polite curiosity than of any real 
 interest in what was going forward. As a 
 matter of fact, no one seemed quite to realise 
 what had happened. The tall, good-looking 
 Greek, talking with the bullet-headed Rus- 
 sian near the fireplace at the end of the first 
 room, paused in his whispered description of 
 the profitable, but somewhat illicit, business 
 in which of late he had been engaged on 
 the coast of Arabia, and glanced languidly 
 in the direction whence the voices proceeded ; 
 while the voluble little Frenchman, playing 
 6carte in the alcove with an elderly com- 
 patriot, paused with a card in his hand, 
 looked round over his shoulder, and then 
 
 7 
 
8 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 continued his game, marking the King as a 
 memento of the occasion, and as a warning 
 against the folly of inordinate curiosity. 
 
 “ I repeat, I accuse Monsieur of cheating. 
 The pack we are using is a marked one ; let 
 Monsieur disprove it if he can.” 
 
 This time his voice penetrated even into 
 the further room where the roulette tables 
 were located, and the crowd, numbering be- 
 tween twenty and thirty persons of both 
 sexes, immediately abandoned its game and 
 hastened in, in order to discover the reason 
 of the excitement. It is possible that half 
 the nations of Europe were represented there. 
 What was more to the point, the apathy 
 which had characterised the people a few mo- 
 ments before had now vanished, and its place 
 was taken by an interest which, it must be 
 confessed, had in it a considerable savour 
 of cruelty. Someone was about to be made 
 unhappy, and they were afraid lest they 
 might be too late for the sensation. Bank- 
 rupt in the majority of emotions as they 
 were, the pleasure of being able to enjoy 
 suffering in others still remained with them. 
 
 The group at the table where the trouble 
 had originated was in many respects a sin- 
 gular one. There were four players, and each 
 presented peculiaiities of his own. Seated 
 
A Maker of Nations. 9 
 
 with his back to the wall was the young 
 man against whom the accusation of cheat- 
 ing had been preferred. He was an Eng- 
 lishman, slimly built, and possessed of a 
 weak though by no means unhandsome face. 
 His age could scarcely have been more than 
 five-and-twenty, possibly it was not so much. 
 His countenance at the moment was white 
 with fear ; and several of the bystanders 
 noticed that his hand, in which certain 
 cards still remained, trembled as it rested 
 upon the table. Standing opposite him, his 
 chair overturned upon the floor, was his 
 accuser, an individual whose nationality at 
 first glance was by no means easy to deter- 
 mine; on his left was another Frenchman, 
 a dapper little person wearing many rings, 
 a turquoise stud, and who boasted a faint 
 resemblance to the third Napoleon. The 
 person on his right, lolling back in his 
 chair, and regarding the ceiling with a con- 
 templative air, as if he were trying to dis- 
 cover what it was in human nature that 
 induced people to waste their time in quar- 
 relling with each other, when they might be 
 so much better employed, was the man with 
 whom this story is very considerably, if not 
 most importantly, concerned, and whom it 
 is necessary, for that reason, I should de- 
 
lo A Maker of Nations. 
 
 scribe to you at greater length. Like the 
 unfortunate youth on his left, he also was 
 an Englishman, a fact which would have 
 been apparent to the least observant. Though 
 he was seated, it could be plainly seen that 
 he was taller than the average Briton; he 
 was pleasant-looking more than good-looking, 
 his hair was crisp and curly, and he boasted 
 honest brown eyes that looked full and fair 
 into one’s own, and at the same time per- 
 mitted you to understand that their possessor 
 was a man who not only liked his own way, 
 but usually managed to get it. Indeed, 
 everything about him, the shape of his fore- 
 head, the moulding of his chin, and even 
 the set of his firm white teeth, which could 
 occasionally be seen peeping out from be- 
 neath his moustache, bespoke him a man 
 of determination. 
 
 “ I accuse Monsieur of cheating,” said the 
 man on the opposite side of the table for 
 the third time ; and as he said it he picked 
 up the cards that had already been played, 
 and spread them out in the shape of a fan 
 before him. The wretched youth endeavoured 
 to protest his innocence ; it was useless, how- 
 ever, his voice died in his throat. Anxious 
 as he might be to deny the accusation, his 
 own face condemned him, and not one of the 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 II 
 
 bystanders believed in him for a moment. 
 Suddenly there was a stir in the crowd, and 
 the pompous little Greek, the proprietor of 
 the rooms, pushed his way through and 
 approached the table. 
 
 “ Gentlemen, gentlemen,” he cried, wring- 
 ing his hands. “ What does this mean ? I 
 implore you not to quarrel. The authorities 
 are none too well disposed towards me as it 
 is, and if you attract their attention now I 
 shall be ruined.” 
 
 In his excitement he placed his hand on 
 the arm of the man who had brought the 
 accusation. The other threw him off with 
 an angry gesture — 
 
 “ To the devil with you, Polyannetis,” he 
 cried in French. “ What do you mean by 
 interrupting me? Haven’t I told you that 
 Monsieur opposite has cheated ? ” 
 
 As he spoke he stooped over the green- 
 clothed table and drew the cards towards 
 him. 
 
 “You were clever enough at this sort of 
 thing once,” he continued. “Examine these 
 cards for yourself, and tell me whether they 
 are those you provide for the use of your 
 guests ? 
 
 Nothing could have been fairer, but it was 
 plain that the proprietor of the rooms did 
 
12 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 not regard the proposal with much favour. 
 He would be compelled to decide in favour 
 of one or the other, and by so doing he 
 must of necessity offend a patron. The young 
 Englishman had spent a considerable amount 
 of money with him during the last few days, 
 and might still have something left, while 
 the other was a person of whom he stood in 
 considerable awe. However, for the reason 
 that there was no other way out of it, he 
 reluctantly did as he was requested. Ac- 
 cordingly he turned the cards this way and 
 that, held them up to the light, and tested 
 them in the most approved fashion. The 
 scrutiny, however, was scarcely necessary ; 
 the truth of the charge which had been 
 brought against the younger man was only 
 too evident. Eeluctant though he might be 
 to admit it, there was no gainsaying the 
 fact that the other had cheated. The un- 
 fortunate young fellow’s complexion by this 
 time was of a deathly pallor. He gasped 
 for breath, and it looked as though at any 
 moment he might fall from his chair in a 
 faint. Already an ominous murmur was run- 
 ning through the room. People who, pro- 
 vided they are not found out, are only too 
 eager themselves to cheat, are invariably the 
 most ready to punish those who have the 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 13 
 
 misfortune, or the stupidity, to be discovered. 
 It was plain that he could hope but for small 
 mercy from anyone there. 
 
 “ What have you to say for yourself. 
 Monsieur ? ” Polyannetis began in a tone 
 which suggested that he had good reason to 
 find fault with the young man for disturbing 
 the tranquillity of an otherwise well-ordered 
 establishment. 
 
 The young man offered no reply. 
 
 “ Turn him out ! ” cried a voice from be- 
 hind. “We want no cheats here.” 
 
 On hearing this, two muscular attendants 
 hastened forward for the purpose of executing 
 the threat proposed. On seeing them, the 
 second Englishman, who up to this time had 
 appeared to take little or no interest in what 
 was going forward, rose from his chair and 
 turned towards the man who had brought 
 the accusation. 
 
 “ This has gone far enough, Monsieur 
 le Vicomte,” he said. “ I give you my 
 word you are accusing this gentleman un- 
 justly.” 
 
 “ Unjustly ? ” cried the other with genuine 
 surprise. “What do you mean? Have I 
 not said that Monsieur substituted this 
 pack for that with which Polyannetis fur- 
 nished us ? ” 
 
14 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ I am quite aware of that,” said the 
 Englishman coolly. “ But you are wrong.” 
 “ What do you mean ? ” 
 
 “ What I say ! You have declared that 
 this gentleman has cheated.” 
 
 “ And has he not ? ” 
 
 “ Why should you say that ? ” 
 
 “ Because I have the best of proofs. You 
 can examine the cards for yourself.” 
 
 “ The cards prove nothing. How do you 
 know that it was he who substituted them? ” 
 The Vicomte laughed scornfully. 
 
 “ Ma foi, Monsieur, your defence astonishes 
 me. If he did not, who did ? ” 
 
 “ I did ! ” 
 
 Had a thunderbolt crashed through the 
 roof and fallen to the middle of the floor it 
 could scarcely have caused greater surprise 
 than did this speech. Each man looked at 
 his neighbour as if he were scarcely able to 
 believe that he had heard aright. Was it 
 possible that Dick Durrington, the most 
 notorious gambler and the finest pistol shot 
 in Europe, was prepared to acknowledge that 
 he had cheated at cards ? The very idea of 
 such a thing was preposterous. And yet he 
 had said it, and, as he very well knew, there 
 was no one in the room, or in Cairo for that 
 matter, who would dare to contradict or to 
 
A Maker of Nations. 15 
 
 hold him accountable for his words. Of 
 course, he had not really done it, everyone 
 felt sure of that, but why had he thus com- 
 mitted himself ? He had not played with 
 the younger man until that night, and they 
 were not even acquaintances. This was what 
 puzzled them, and the Vicomte de Vernier 
 was more puzzled than all the rest put 
 together. 
 
 “ Monsieur Durrington,” he began, after 
 the short pause which followed the other’s 
 announcement, “ will forgive me, I hope, if 
 I say that I scarcely catch his meaning ! 
 Am I to understand that he deliberately 
 confesses that he has cheated ? ” 
 
 “ You may understand what you please,” 
 the other replied imperturbably. “ What I 
 want you to remember is, that if the 
 ownership of these cards is to be called 
 in question, I am prepared to account 
 for them.” 
 
 There was another awkward pause, during 
 which the spectators watched the two men, 
 as if they were wondering what the next 
 step in this extraordinary drama would be. 
 
 Meanwhile the young man at the further 
 end of the table was slowly recovering his 
 self-possession. He had found an unexpected 
 ally, and in a totally unexpected quarter. 
 
i6 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ There is a mystery somewhere,” said the 
 Yicomte with a still more puzzled air. “ I 
 cannot believe that Monsieur is prepared to 
 confess himself a cheat.” 
 
 “ As I have said, you may believe what 
 you please,” Durrington returned coolly. 
 “ If you feel aggrieved, I shall be most 
 happy to do the right thing when and 
 where you please. You know my address, 
 I fancy, if not ” 
 
 He took a card from his pocket and laid 
 it upon the green-topped table. Then turn- 
 ing to the young man on his left he said, 
 “ Come, sir, it is time we thought of getting 
 home. If you will give me your company 
 for a short distance, I shall be obliged.” 
 
 The old pallor returned to the young 
 man’s face; from Durrington’s speech it was 
 plain that he was not to go scot free after 
 all. However, he rose as he was ordered, 
 and followed the other across the room to 
 the hall outside, where a servant brought 
 their cloaks. When they had donned them 
 they passed down the steps. 
 
 It was a beautiful night. Overhead the 
 stars shone with Oriental brilliance, and a 
 soft wind from the Nile sighed softly among 
 the orange trees in the garden. It was the 
 first week in December, and the Cairene 
 
A Maker of Nations. 17 
 
 winter season might therefore be said to 
 have fairly commenced. As Durrington and 
 his companion made their way into the 
 street, an aradheyah passed them, convey- 
 ing some guests from the British Consul- 
 General’s reception back to their hotel. 
 Durrington smiled grimly as the laughing 
 voices of the ladies reached his ears. By 
 dint of much perseverance he had acquired 
 the habit of telling himself that he did not 
 regret his loss of caste, that he was just as 
 happy as he had ever been, and that 
 nothing mattered so long as he had his life, 
 and the health and strength to enjoy it. 
 And yet, do what he would that night, the 
 voices of those laughing girls in the carriage 
 recurred to his memory again and again, 
 long after the cab had turned down a side 
 street and passed out of his life for ever. 
 Possibly this may have been why they 
 walked for upwards of a hundred yards 
 without a word passing between them. In- 
 deed, they had left the thoroughfare in 
 which the French gaming house was situa- 
 ted, and had entered the Sharia Kamel 
 Pacha before Durrington referred to the in- 
 cident which had brought them together. 
 Then, placing his hand on the young man’s 
 arm, he said : “I wonder if it has struck 
 
1 8 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 you, my young friend, that you got ofl 
 rather cheaply just now ? ” 
 
 The other hesitated before he replied. 
 While he felt quite certain that his com- 
 panion was fully aware of his guilt, some 
 lingering touch of caution, or it may have 
 been vanity, prevented him from making 
 any confession until he was directly accused. 
 At the same time he was aware that he 
 owed a debt of gratitude, which he could 
 never repay, to the man standing beside 
 him. But for his generous interference and 
 the fact that he had so opportunely taken 
 the blame upon himself, there was no know- 
 ing what the end of it all might not have 
 been. Durrington noticed his hesitation, 
 and with the quick eye of a man who has 
 made the human face his study, appreciated 
 it correctly. A smile that was almost one 
 of contemptuous pity flitted across his face. 
 Educated by the world as he had been in 
 its roughest and most dangerous school, he 
 was able to read what was passing in the 
 youth’s mind as if it had been a book laid 
 open before him. 
 
 “ I hope you will believe that I am very 
 grateful to you,” the young man said diffi- 
 dently. “ It was awfully good of you to 
 get me out of that scrape as you did.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 19 
 
 Then with an ingenuousness that was ahnost 
 pathetic, he added: “These foreign gaming- 
 houses are the very deuce and all, unless 
 you know the ropes.” 
 
 “ I agree with you,” said Durrington 
 grimly. “ You do require to know the 
 ropes. And what is more, you require to 
 be very careful how you pull those ropes 
 when you are familiar with them. Things 
 happen even in Cairo, of which society in 
 general and the consuls in particular, know 
 little or nothing. If I were you, I should 
 make it a rule not to touch a card until I 
 got back to London. If, however, you must 
 play, be careful that you use only the ortho- 
 dox implements. Little mistakes like that 
 of to-night are apt, at times, to entail un- 
 pleasant results.” 
 
 The youth was silent for a few moments. 
 He was even more convinced than before 
 that he was behaving ungenerously, and yet 
 he did not quite see how he could alter 
 matters. 
 
 “ Look here,” he faltered at last, “ I know 
 you must think me a beast for doing what 
 I did, but — but — you don’t know how I was 
 drawn into it. You don’t think you’ll be 
 getting into any sort of a hole yourself over 
 this business, do you ? That Hrench chap 
 
20 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 is a bad hat, I should say, and I shouldn’t 
 like you to get into any trouble with him 
 when it’s all my fault. Do you see ? ” 
 “You need not allow yourself to be dis- 
 turbed on that score,” said Durrington 
 calmly. “ I am quite able to take care of 
 myself. Besides, if I know anything of our 
 friend the Vicomte, he won’t fight. Were 
 I in your shoes, however, I should not 
 cultivate his acquaintance for a week or 
 two.” 
 
 “You think, then, that he will remember 
 what has happened this evening ? ” 
 
 “Well, it’s not exactly the sort of thing 
 one would be likely to forget,” answered 
 Durrington. “ Do you think it is ? ” 
 
 This time there was no shirking the ques- 
 tion. They were underneath a lamp-post, 
 and the two men looked each other firmly 
 and squarely in the face, and it was the 
 younger man’s eyes that dropped first. 
 
 “ I am a cad,” he replied, “ and I deserved 
 to be kicked out of the place to-night. I 
 know that, but ” 
 
 “But the result has not quite justified 
 the cleverness of the original idea,” said 
 Durrington. “ I understand exactly. I 
 shouldn’t do it again, that’s all.” 
 
 “ I give you my word I won’t. But still 
 
A Maker of Nations. 21 
 
 I want you to understand how grateful I 
 am to you.” 
 
 “ Don’t trouble yourself about that,” said 
 the other for the second time. “ If I 
 wanted to moralise, which isn’t in my line, I 
 might preach you a sermon that would be 
 to the point. I will spare you, however. 
 Our paths separate here, I think? You are 
 staying at the Oriental, are you not ? ” 
 
 “ How did you know that ? ” his aston- 
 ished companion inquired, for he had never 
 seen or heard of Durrington until that 
 evening. 
 
 “It is my business to know a good many 
 things,” said Durrington. “ And now, good- 
 night.” 
 
 “ Good-night,” the younger man replied. 
 “ If my governor only knew what you’ve 
 done for me to-night, I wonder whether he 
 would be glad or sorry ? ” 
 
 “You should know best,” Durrington re- 
 plied ; and then, ignoring the hand held out 
 to him, and speaking with an abruptness 
 he had not used before, he bade the other 
 “ good-night,” and went quickly down the 
 pavement. 
 
 “What a fool I am!” he said viciously 
 to himself as he walked along. “ Try how 
 I will, I seem never to be able to fors'et. 
 
22 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 I suppose it was the young idiot’s face that 
 brought it back to me so clearly. And a 
 nice little scrape I’ve got myself into if 
 Vernier turns nasty. Of course, they’ll never 
 believe that I had a hand in the business, 
 but they’ll be certain to suspect I’ve some 
 game on. They know Dick Durrington too 
 well to suppose he’d allow his feelings to 
 run away with him so far as to permit him- 
 self to be charged with a clumsy bit of 
 business like that, unless he had a good 
 and sufficient reason at the back of it all ! 
 Heaven, what recollections that young 
 fellow’s face brought back to me ! I seemed 
 to see her ” 
 
 At this moment there crept out of the 
 heavier shadow of the houses one of those 
 terrible beings who haunt the darkness of 
 every semi-European, semi-Asiatic city. He 
 approached Durrington, imploring charity in 
 the name of God. Keeping pace with him, 
 he whined for help, for money, for any- 
 thing that would save him from his present 
 misery. He was an Englishman, he said, 
 and had once been a Queen’s officer. Dur- 
 rington repulsed him savagely, but the other 
 was not to be denied. Then a light fell 
 upon his face, and he saw to whom it was 
 he had appealed. He followed no further. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 23 
 
 He knew that neither threats nor entreaties 
 would avail him there. 
 
 Beaching his lodgings, Durrington let him- 
 self in and made his way past the sleeping 
 servants in the corridor to his bedroom on 
 the first floor. Once there he stood and 
 regarded himself steadfastly in the cheap 
 French mirror hanging upon the wall. 
 
 “ I never knew that it was so difficult to 
 forget,” he said. “One chance likeness, and 
 all the past comes back to me. I thought 
 I had forgotten her, and that I had ever 
 been anything but what I am — an outcast, 
 who was once a gentleman 1 ” 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 T he time was between three and four 
 o’clock in the afternoon, and the place 
 was the terrace before the entrance to 
 Shepherd’s Hotel. The band of the English 
 cavalry regiment, quartered in Cairo, was 
 playing in the garden adjoining, and a well- 
 dressed crowd, composed of tourists of all 
 nationalities, were seated at the small tables, 
 sipping its afternoon tea, talking scandal and 
 pretending to be interested in the music. On 
 the pavement at the foot of the steps half- 
 a-dozen dragomen were waiting for their 
 patrons ; smart araaheyahs took up and set 
 down passengers continually, while water- 
 sellers, pedlars of every sort and description, 
 coal-black soldiers of the Soudanese bat- 
 talions, Copts and stately Arabs, stopped on 
 their several ways to look at the strange 
 gathering on the terrace, and to marvel at 
 the still stranger doings of the Franks. In 
 the middle of the long swinging Western 
 waltz his Highness the Khedive flashed by, 
 
 24 
 
A Maker of Nations. 25 
 
 preceded and followed by a glittering escort, 
 and with saises running at the horses’ heads. 
 Taken altogether, it constituted a brilliant 
 picture, full of bright colours and sunshine. 
 There was one person, however, upon the 
 terrace who seemed to find little to interest 
 him in it. He was seated in the extreme 
 left-hand corner, and, as the waiters were 
 sorrowfully aware, had monopolised the use 
 of an entire table for upwards of an hour. 
 If hard looks and whispered anathemas 
 could have killed, he would have been an- 
 nihilated a long time since, but he was not 
 the sort of person to be easily disconcerted. 
 He smoked his cigarette, read his news- 
 paper, and sipped his coffee with the air of 
 a man who cares less than nothing for 
 public opinion, and for whom sightseeing had 
 long ceased to possess any sort of attraction. 
 
 At first glance Joseph Spielman might 
 have been anything from forty to fifty 
 years of age. When his face was in re- 
 pose he appeared to be nearer the half- 
 century than he himself would have alto- 
 gether cared to admit ; but when he smiled 
 he might almost, I say almost advisedly, 
 have been taken for a young man. To his 
 credit, be it remarked, he more often smiled 
 than not, for he was a man who found the 
 
26 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 world very well suited to his tastes, and 
 who was quite disposed to make it aware 
 of the fact. At the present moment he was 
 wearing that sort of felt hat which is some- 
 what ambiguously described as Terai, but 
 when he removed it and placed it on a 
 chair beside him, it was seen that he was 
 slightly bald. Such hair, however, as he 
 still possessed was straight and black and 
 as undemonstrative as himself. His face was 
 clean shaven, and, if one were disposed to 
 be spiteful, it would have to be admitted 
 that he boasted more than a suspicion of a 
 double chin. His appearance was neat and 
 natty in the extreme; his feet and hands 
 were small, and the nails of the latter had 
 been trimmed and polished to the highest 
 pitch of perfection. It was one of his pecu- 
 liarities, when engaged upon any business 
 that necessitated careful thought, to devote 
 considerable attention to these important 
 accessories, and could they have spoken, 
 strange indeed would have been the secrets 
 they might have revealed. What Mr. Spiel- 
 man’s nationality was, it was difficult to 
 determine. At first glance his name would 
 suggest Semitic origin, but such was not 
 the case. His speech told you nothing. In 
 New York it was said that he had the 
 
A Maker of Nations. 27 
 
 accent of an Englishman ; in London he 
 spoke like an American ; in Paris he had 
 several times been mistaken for a German, 
 while there were people in Berlin who de- 
 clined altogether to believe that he was not 
 of French extraction. He was intimately 
 acquainted with the most out-of-the-way 
 comers of the world, and possessed, what is 
 so essential to the comfort of the traveller, 
 the faculty of being able to adapt himself to 
 the manners and customs of the land he 
 happened to be residing in at the moment. 
 If he had been asked what country he con- 
 sidered his home, he would, in all proba- 
 bility, have replied, “ My home is the wide 
 world, and I want no other.” This would 
 not, perhaps, have been quite the truth, but 
 it would be as near it as Joseph Spielman 
 ever felt justified in venturing. 
 
 Having exhausted the news contained in 
 his paper, he carefully folded it up and placed 
 it in his pocket. It possessed nothing of 
 sufficient importance to justify him in keep- 
 ing it, and for this reason he might just as 
 well have thrown it away, but it was typical 
 of his character that he did not do so. As 
 he was well aware, the smallest clues often 
 lead to the greatest discoveries, and though he 
 had little enough to conceal, he was never- 
 
28 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 theless desirous that that little should re- 
 main his own property. One half of his 
 existence might be said to be spent in making 
 tracks across the great Desert of Life, while 
 the other half was occupied in obliterating 
 them. 
 
 Having stowed away his paper and re- 
 placed his hat upon his head, he looked 
 about him. He was aware that the waiters 
 were watching for him to take his departure; 
 he also knew that the young couple at the 
 next table were on their honeymoon, and 
 were anxious to acquire his place in order 
 that they might be further removed from 
 the crowd ; but he had no intention of 
 obliging either party. He was waiting for 
 a friend, and that friend was already up- 
 wards of a quarter of an hour late in 
 putting in an appearance. This fact, how- 
 ever, did not seem to cause him very much 
 inconvenience. As a matter of fact, he had 
 expected it, and was not displeased to find 
 himself, as usual, in the right. Eegarded 
 in the proper light it was a confession of 
 weakness, for he was well aware that the 
 person in question stood in considerable awe 
 of him. He accordingly settled it Ijl' his 
 own mind that this unpunctuality was n- 
 tended to conceal the fact. Though he did 
 
A Maker of Nations. 29 
 
 not appear to be noticing, he carefully 
 scanned the occupants of every araaheyah 
 that drew up at the steps. An ordinary 
 man, in an excess of diplomacy, would in 
 all probability have taken his paper from 
 his pocket again and have pretended to be 
 absorbed in its contents, thereby implying 
 that the other person’s non-arrival was a 
 matter of the least importance to himself. 
 Spielman, however, as I have endeavoured 
 to show, was far from being an ordinary 
 man. He knew very well that if he pre- 
 tended to be unconcerned, the individual for 
 whom he was waiting would see through his 
 action, and jump to the conclusion that he 
 was desirous of concealing something. For 
 the simple reason, therefore, that he had 
 something to hide he aSected considerable 
 anxiety, which found its expression in a 
 constant examination of his watch and the 
 unhappy look upon his face. That the other 
 was not there to see these manifestations 
 did not matter; the little performance only 
 cost him the trouble of acting it, while there 
 was still the chance that the person in ques- 
 tion had arrived earlier and was watching 
 from the windows of the hotel behind. In 
 this supposition, however, he was wrong. 
 He had not examined his watch a dozen 
 
30 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 times before a carriage drawn by a pair of 
 magnificent black Orloffs, and boasting a 
 handsomely uniformed dragoman upon the 
 box beside the coachman, to say nothing 
 of a couple of saises with white wands run- 
 ning at the horses’ heads, put in an appear- 
 ance and drew up at the steps. In it was 
 seated a lady, and it was for her coming 
 that Joseph Spielman had been waiting so 
 impatiently. On seeing her he rose, con- 
 scious all the time of the ripple of admira- 
 tion that ran along the terrace, and made 
 his way down to the street. And, in case 
 I should omit to refer to it later, I might 
 remark here that the lady in question was 
 fully entitled to such homage as she might 
 receive. She was young, perhaps a little 
 older than she looked, but at most scarcely 
 more than thirty-two or thirty-three years of 
 age ; she was, moreover, extremely beautiful ; 
 and in order that her charms might be dis- 
 played to the fullest advantage, she was 
 dressed in the height of Parisian fashion. It 
 was not her beauty, however, that fascinated 
 people so much as what might be described 
 as her daintiness, that wonderful and yet in- 
 describable something that seems to be the 
 peculiar property of so many French and 
 American women. As a matter of fact, in 
 
A Maker of Nations. 31 
 
 this case it was Uncle Jonathan who pos- 
 sessed the right to be proud of so fair a 
 daughter. 
 
 On seeing Spielman she smiled graciously. 
 
 “ I am afraid I am terribly late,” she said, 
 holding out her hand to him. “ Will you 
 forgive me ? ” 
 
 “I must deem myself fortunate in seeing 
 you at all,” answered Spielman gravely, as 
 though every word were a Jewel that would 
 have to be accounted for later on. “ Know- 
 ing how fully your time is occupied, I can- 
 not help feeling that I am acting as an 
 enemy to society in trespassing upon even 
 a moment of it.” 
 
 There must have been something more 
 in this speech than met the eye, for she 
 threw a swift glance at him through the 
 lace of her parasol, and then made room for 
 him in the carriage beside her. 
 
 “ It is nearly five o’clock,” she said. 
 “ Shall we take a turn in the Gezireh ? ” 
 
 Spielman declared his delight at the pro- 
 posal, but his pleasure at her condescension 
 did not prevent him from noticing, with 
 quiet satisfaction, that she prepared a place 
 for him first and invited him afterwards. 
 This, he considered, augured well for what 
 was to follow. As soon as he was com- 
 
32 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 fortably seated, the dragoman ascended the 
 box and gave the signal ; the saises flourished 
 their wands and set ofi, uttering their curious 
 cries of warning as they did so, the horses 
 sprang forward, and before a spectator could 
 have counted twenty they had turned the 
 corner and were out of sight of the hotel 
 and the inquisitive crowd upon the terrace. 
 It was not until they had proceeded some 
 distance, however, that either of the occu- 
 pants of the carriage spoke. Spielman was 
 the first to break the silence. 
 
 “ Do your servants understand English, my 
 dear Coralie ? ” he inquired. 
 
 “ No,” she answered. “ You may say 
 what you please before them with perfect 
 safety.” 
 
 “ That is fortunate,” he replied, “ for I 
 have something of considerable importance 
 to say to you. From the fact that you 
 have been kind enough to call for me, I 
 argue that you received my note of this 
 morning. I should have given myself the 
 pleasure of paying my respects to you in 
 person, had I not been prevented. You like 
 Cairo, I presume ? ” 
 
 “If I did not, I should scarcely be here,” 
 she answered with a momentary sharpness 
 that was by no means lost upon him. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 33 
 
 He smiled complacently upon the expanse 
 of gold embroidery which the dragoman’s 
 back presented to him. The Oriental work 
 displayed there must have given him his 
 cue, for, for the next five minutes or so, he 
 talked of the unabated charms that the East 
 still possessed for him. 
 
 “After all,” he said, as they passed over 
 the Kasr-en-Nil Bridge and dropped their 
 saises at the entrance to the Park, under the 
 shadow of the great stone lions, “ I am not 
 at all sure that the Oriental life is not the 
 correct one. The lack of hurry, the dignity 
 of movement, and the imperturbability of 
 temper, are things which we Europeans would 
 do well to imitate.” 
 
 His companion allowed a little smile to 
 cross her face ; she quite understood the 
 meaning of what he had Just said. She 
 realised how foolish she had been to let him 
 see that he had angered her. They drove 
 along the bank of the river, down the avenue 
 of Lebbeck trees, passed over the bridge and 
 the road that leads to Gizeh, and then turned 
 once more towards the point whence they 
 had originally started. By this time the 
 Park was filled with equipages of every sort 
 and description. The rank and fashion of 
 Cairo was taking its afternoon drive, and the 
 
 c 
 
34 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 victorias of the Consuls-General of the Great 
 Powers rubbed shoulders with the mail 
 phsetons of Pachas, and the victorias of 
 wealthy Arabs, while miniature broughams, 
 containing daintily veiled ladies of the harem, 
 came in perilous proximity to the dog-carts 
 of reckless British subalterns. 
 
 “ Has it ever struck you, dear Coralie,” 
 said Spielman in that gentle voice that made 
 one think of the purring of a cat, “ how 
 very different your life would have been 
 had you been born in the East, of Asiatic 
 parents? ” 
 
 “ I have never given the question a 
 thought,” she replied. “ The Muski is some 
 considerable distance from the Broadway, 
 you see ! ” 
 
 “ Charming as you could not have failed to 
 be in your own sphere, you would not have 
 known the pleasure and, shall — shall we say, 
 the excitement of your present life.” 
 
 Knowing her man so well, she was quite 
 aware that there was something behind all 
 this, something that he was leading up to 
 very gradually, and that in all probability 
 would not be altogether pleasant when it 
 came. 
 
 “Does it never strike you in return,” she 
 said at last, as though she had been carefully 
 
A Maker of Nations. 35 
 
 considering his last speech, “ that I may have 
 tired of all this pleasure and — and this ex- 
 citement of which you speak ? ” 
 
 “ I must confess I have been foolish enough 
 never to have contemplated that,” he replied, 
 still with the same seriousness. “ I am sorry 
 you have been bored. It is unfortunate, very 
 unfortunate. I remember so well your telling 
 me in Eome ” 
 
 He stopped suddenly. His companion’s 
 eyes had filled with tears. Hunting about 
 for a reason to account for it, he remembered 
 that her husband had died in the Italian 
 capital. Accordingly he leant a little towards 
 her, and, placing his hand upon hers, he 
 said tenderly, “ Forgive me, dear Coralie ; 
 I had for the moment forgotten poor Van- 
 hoy sen.” 
 
 Then to himself he added, “ That was by 
 no means badly done. She gave me check- 
 mate when I least expected it. If one could 
 only forget that Vanhoysen was an under- 
 sized, red-faced man with a bald head and a 
 cosmopolitan taste in liquor, one might almost 
 believe that she still cared for him.” 
 
 Under the circumstances any further refer- 
 ence to Eome was impossible. Accordingly 
 they drove for some distance in silence. The 
 hand Spielman had to play was an extremely 
 
36 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 difficult one, but he preferred difficulties at 
 all times. He liked an uphill fight, and he 
 had a consummate belief in his own powers. 
 A victory was no victory that had not re- 
 quired some skill to win. 
 
 “ How pleasant the evening air is ! ” he 
 said, as they approached the river again. 
 “And how charming it is to be driving with 
 you once more ! How long is it since we 
 met? To me it seems an eternity.” 
 
 “We saw each other last in Petersburg, 
 I fancy,” she said, and as she said it she 
 bowed to Sulieman Pacha, who passed them 
 driving tandem. 
 
 “ In Petersburg, to be sure,” he answered. 
 “ The Neva was frozen, I remember, and we 
 skated together. Ho you remember how 
 angry you were with poor Golgourouski for 
 his unfortunate remark concerning your 
 sables ? ” 
 
 She replied to the effect that she had no 
 recollection of the incident in question, but 
 the shudder that passed over her belied the 
 truth of her words. Woman of the world 
 though she was, her feelings occasionally got 
 the better of her. 
 
 “ And since then you have been where ? ” 
 he asked. 
 
 He raised his eyes inquiringly as he put 
 
A Maker of Nations, 37 
 
 the question. He knew perfectly where she 
 had been, but he did not wish her to be 
 aware of the fact. 
 
 “ Here, there, and everywhere,” she re- 
 turned airily. “You know my passion for 
 travelling.” 
 
 “ Perfectly,” he answered. “ Hence my 
 presence in Cairo, and the little note I 
 wrote, asking you to make an appointment 
 for this afternoon.” 
 
 “I am afraid I do not quite understand,” 
 she replied. 
 
 Spielman smiled indulgently. 
 
 “ Conceited as it may appear to say so, I 
 fancy I have been able to be of some little 
 use to you in your life.” 
 
 Before she answered him she looked away 
 over the railings to the spot upon the race- 
 course where the polo club was entertaining 
 its friends that afternoon. That Spielman 
 had, in a certain sense, been useful to her 
 was quite true, but while she was prepared 
 to admit as much, she could not shut her 
 eyes to the fact that that usefulness had 
 had its origin solely in her power and ability 
 to serve himself. 
 
 “ The truth of the matter is, my dear 
 Coralie,” he said, “I need your assistance 
 just now ; more, perhaps, than I have ever 
 
38 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 yet done. I am in a position of some little 
 difficulty, and without you I can do 
 nothing.” 
 
 She had heard him talk like this before, 
 so she waited for what would inevitably 
 follow. 
 
 “ The fact is,” he continued, after a little 
 pause, “ I have hit upon a scheme which I 
 cannot help thinking may not only be of 
 some interest to you, but may be exceed- 
 ingly profitable to us both. You are aware 
 how prone I am to take the affairs of other 
 people into my own hands. It is an 
 amiable weakness of which I have never 
 been able to rid myself. There are various 
 sorts of philanthropy, and the mere fact 
 that mine has the good fortune to repay 
 me occasionally should not detract in any 
 way from its usefulness. Do you follow 
 me ? ” 
 
 “I fancy I understand,” she answered, as 
 if she were emerging from some abstruse 
 calculation. “You do good on the ordinary 
 principle of trade, in order that a profit to 
 yourself may follow.” 
 
 “ And why not ? ” he answered. “ Would 
 you have me neglect the opportunities 
 Providence vouchsafes me ? But we are 
 wandering from the point, I think.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 39 
 
 His companion bowed to the French 
 Minister who was passing at the moment. 
 
 “And that point is?” 
 
 “ The fact that I require your help, my 
 dear Coralie,” he answered. “As I have 
 already explained, I have inaugurated a 
 scheme which promises to be one of the 
 most successful I have yet undertaken. To 
 arrive at this happy conclusion, however, I 
 must have your assistance, and this I feel 
 sure you will grant me when you have 
 heard everything. This is not the first 
 time we have worked together, but, if you 
 are tired of the partnership, I sincerely 
 trust, for your sake, that it may be the 
 last.” 
 
 “You said the same thing when you 
 asked me to help you in that Cochin China 
 affair,” she said. “ You promised me that, 
 if I would do as you wished, you would 
 never ask me to assist you again.” 
 
 “ Forgive me, and forget that I was ever 
 so foolish,” he answered, purposely mis- 
 taking her meaning. “ It was the purest 
 self-conceit that made me think I was 
 strong enough to do without you.” 
 
 She understood. He had her completely 
 in his toils, and he knew it. Experience 
 had taught her that he was never so humble 
 
40 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 as when he had gained his point. There 
 were other reasons, however, and — but there, 
 human nature is proverbially weak, and if 
 one does wrong, it is comforting to be able 
 to salve one’s conscience afterwards with the 
 reflection that the sin was committed only 
 on compulsion. 
 
 “ And this scheme is ? ” she asked. 
 
 “ An intensely interesting one from every 
 point of view,” he answered. Then with a 
 return to his old semi-serious semi-mocking 
 manner, he continued, “ With your permis- 
 sion I will furnish you with a brief resume 
 of the position. For a greater number of 
 years than either you or I would care to 
 contemplate, a certain South American Ke- 
 public, the name of which may possibly 
 occur to you, has been afflicted with a 
 scourge such as, I am pleased to say, over- 
 takes but few countries in that portion of 
 the habitable globe. I refer to its prolonged 
 prosperity and peace. Under the influence 
 of this tranquillity, the gentle art of making 
 itself objectionable to its neighbours and the 
 world in general has been almost, if not 
 entirely, lost. The lion has lain down with 
 the lamb so long that he has well-nigh for- 
 gotten his taste for mutton. Anyone but a 
 politician might foresee the result. The 
 
A Maker of Nations. 41 
 
 sword having been turned into a plough- 
 share will in course of time be sold for old 
 iron. The country’s reputation, so far as 
 revolutionary sentiment is concerned, is at 
 its lowest, and what was at one time the 
 hatching place — the incubator, I might 
 almost say — of half the plots that have given 
 zest to life in South America, is now a 
 wilderness of Clapham-like respectability. 
 Attempts to alter this deplorable state of 
 things have been made at intervals, but 
 always without success. If it continues 
 much longer, the credit of the South 
 American citizen as a revolutionist will be 
 lost for good and all. In the interests of 
 civilisation this must not be.” 
 
 An almost imperceptible smile flickered 
 round the corners of his companion’s mouth. 
 
 “I think I understand,” she answered. 
 “It is at this particular juncture that you 
 appear on the scene. The patriots of 
 whom you speak, who have hitherto been 
 debarred from occupying their proper places 
 in the management of affairs, appeal to you, 
 confident that they will not ask in vain, 
 
 provided always ” 
 
 “ Provided what, dear Coralie ? ” 
 
 “ That their prayers for help are couched 
 in language that you can understand, and 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 42 
 
 the securities they offer ar ; such as can be 
 readily realised in the evfat of disaster over- 
 taking the adventure.” 
 
 He patted her hand complacently. She 
 had not ofiended him in the least by her 
 plain speaking. 
 
 “ In our world,” he continued, still adopt- 
 ing the same conciliatory tone, “motives by 
 which I am actuated must always incur the 
 risk of being misconstrued. That, however, 
 matters but little to me. The question for 
 our consideration is, whether you are pre- 
 prepared to assist me in the herculean task 
 I have set myself ? ” 
 
 “For the second time I must ask you to 
 tell me what I am to do.” 
 
 “ I will explain,” he replied. “ The posi- 
 tion, I take it, is as follows: The President 
 of the Eepublio, an elderly and wealthy 
 gentleman, has happened by mischance to 
 win the esteem of his compatriots. These 
 misguided people speak of him as the father 
 of his country. What they will say of him 
 later is quite another matter. We have 
 run no risks. The army has been carefully 
 sounded, with the result that a large pro- 
 portion has been found to be in favour of 
 a return to its proper employment. These 
 have been assiduously cultivated, and are 
 
A Maker of Nations. 43 
 
 now engaged in sowing the seeds of dis- 
 content throughout the various regiments. 
 All things considered, we have been more 
 successful than we dared at first to hope, and 
 now all that is reo fired is that a man 
 should be sent th' :e to take over the 
 management of affairs, and also that the 
 sinews of war should be supplied.” 
 
 “And the man, and the money?” 
 
 “ I am finding both,” he replied. “ A 
 little speculation on my part, nothing more. 
 The money has already been despatched. 
 The man will follow next week.” 
 
 “ And he is ? ” 
 
 “ Who but MacCartney ? ” 
 
 “ But I thought he was still in ” 
 
 Spielman held up his hand. 
 
 “ He was,” he replied. “ But the busi- 
 ness was not what we had a right to 
 expect from it. His army melted away like 
 snow before a summer sun. The whole 
 affair was a fiasco, and unworthy of his 
 reputation and my own. General Palaisto 
 accordingly resigned his command, bade his 
 troops a hurried and somewhat uncere- 
 monious ‘ farewell,’ and to-night will make 
 his appearance in Cairo as plain Mr. 
 MacCartney once more.” 
 
 “ And you are sending him to South 
 
44 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 America to promote and take charge of this 
 revolution in your interests ? ” 
 
 “That is what I propose,” said Spielman. 
 “ I can think of no man better suited for 
 the work.” 
 
 She laughed a little uneasily. Do what 
 she would she could not induce him to come 
 to the point. 
 
 “ Now for the third time, what part am 
 I to play in the drama?” she inquired. 
 
 “ I shall occupy the position of Supreme 
 Authority,” said Spielman slowly and very 
 deliberately, as if he saw that it was no 
 use procrastinating further. “ MacCartney 
 will be our fighting head ; now what we 
 want is a head for the Intelligence Depart- 
 ment. That is where I propose, with your 
 permission, to place you.” 
 
 “ And what if I do not feel disposed to 
 fall in with your plans ? ” She pursed up 
 her pretty lips and gazed intently at the 
 embroidery on the dragoman’s back. Spiel- 
 man understood what was passing through 
 her mind. She was frightened of him, and 
 he intended that she should continue to 
 be so. 
 
 “ I have made it a rule never to make 
 allowance for impossible contingencies,” he 
 said. Then dropping his voice a little and 
 
A Maker of Nations. 45 
 
 putting as much persuasion as he knew into 
 it, he added : “ You have done so much 
 
 for me, Coralie, in the past, that I cannot 
 believe that you would, of your own free 
 will, disassociate yourself from me in the 
 future, particularly just when I need you 
 most. Do you remember that little afiair 
 in the Balkans in 18 — , well, never mind 
 the year; how useful you were to me then! 
 Without your assistance I should never 
 have been able to do what I did. Then 
 there was that French business in Algiers, 
 and that little passage-at-arms with the 
 Sublime Porte two years later. Had it not 
 been for your quick wit and readiness of 
 resource on a certain memorable occasion, 
 Cavarrez would certainly have reached Con- 
 stantinople, and in that case I should have 
 been ruined for ever. There have been 
 other episodes in our career of which we 
 might both be equally proud ; the one I 
 am arranging now, however, looks more 
 promising than anything we have yet 
 attempted. May I count upon your help?” 
 
 The woman beside him clenched her 
 pretty teeth. Smooth-spoken as he was, 
 she could calculate the weight of the iron 
 hand inside the velvet glove to a nicety. 
 
 “ I had hoped that all that sort of thing 
 
46 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 was gone out of my life for ever,” she said 
 at last. 
 
 Spielman smiled benignly upon her. 
 
 “ Dear child,” he said, “ believe me when 
 I say that one is never able to say with 
 truth that he or she is done with that sort 
 of thing. For the moment you are in- 
 clined to the romantic. You picture a life 
 spent in a cottage, embowered in honey- 
 suckle, far from the rush and strife of the 
 great world — an existence into which am- 
 bition never enters, and where the word 
 politics means the telegrams in the fifth 
 page of the morning paper. While you are 
 so picturing, the cynic that is in every 
 man and woman reminds you that you are 
 wintering in Cairo, driving black Orloffs in 
 the Gezireh Park ; that last night you 
 dined with an ambassadress, and that to- 
 night you will attend the Khedivial recep- 
 tion, where you will receive that attention 
 and respect your talents merit. To be able 
 to retire from the world one must have 
 lost all interest in worldly affairs. This I 
 can safely assure myself you have not done. 
 After the life you have led, could it be 
 otherwise ? To return to a simile I have 
 already used, you pick up your Times, 
 your Figaro, your Novoe Vremya, II Populo, 
 
A Maker of Nations. 47 
 
 or shall we say Egyptian Gazette, and you 
 instinctively turn to the Continental tele- 
 grams. And why ? For the very simple 
 reason that they interest you more than 
 the rest of the paper put together. You 
 have been schooled in these matters from 
 your youth up, and you know exactly how 
 the strings are pulled and why it is the 
 puppets work. The lady residing in the 
 honeysuckle cottage, to which we have re- 
 ferred, reads that the Czar has been 
 graciously pleased to appoint Count Michael 
 Barotouski to be Governor of Central 
 Siberia. It is an item of foreign intelli- 
 gence to her, and nothing more. You, the 
 owner of the black Orlofis, give it greater 
 attention, for the reason that you have 
 known for some months past of a secret 
 meeting on the frontier, of a duel at short 
 range, and of the unpleasantness at head- 
 quarters that was the natural consequence. 
 Instances of a similar kind might be ad- 
 duced, if necessary, ad infinitum. Surely, 
 my dear Coralie, you do not desire, for 
 the next forty years, to reduce yourself to 
 the level of a woman who believes all she 
 reads in the morning papers ? ” 
 
 “Is it not possible to imagine a life in 
 which there are no newspapers ? ” asked the 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 48 
 
 lady, with the air of one who is anxious 
 to dispose of the argument for good and all. 
 
 “ As possible as it is to imagine a life 
 in which there are no Parisian tailors and 
 no Cairene villas,” he replied. “ However, 
 that is beside the mark. What concerns 
 us for the moment is the question whether 
 I may assure myself of your co-operation ? 
 The adventure promises to be an exciting 
 one, and, if I know anything of such 
 things, it will certainly be remunerative. 
 The risk you will run will be an exceedingly 
 small one, and, if we succeed, I think I 
 may venture to promise you at least ten 
 thousand pounds.” 
 
 She appeared not to notice the latter 
 portion of his speech. They were approach- 
 ing the Kasr-en-Nil Bridge at the time, 
 and the horses, finding their heads turned 
 for home, were inclined to be a little 
 restive. Dusk was falling, and a cool wind 
 reached them from the river. 
 
 They had passed the barracks and were 
 proceeding at a fast pace down the Sharia 
 Masr-el-Atika, when Spielman returned to 
 the subject in which they were both so 
 much interested. 
 
 “ I may count upon your co-operation, 
 then ? ” he said. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 49 
 
 “You must tell me first what I have to 
 do,” she replied. “I cannot give you a 
 definite answer until I know that.” 
 
 “ That is easily told,” he answered. 
 “ The President of the Eepublio with which 
 we are concerned has one daughter, his 
 only child. She is at present travelling in 
 Europe, and, as I have good reason to 
 know, arrives in Cairo next week. What 
 you have to do is to make her acquain- 
 tance. It should not be a very difiicult 
 matter. I will arrange that you shall 
 render her some signal service, and from 
 what I have heard of her she will he 
 grateful. You must become friends, and 
 later on you will give her to understand 
 that it is your intention at an early date 
 to travel in South America. In return for 
 the kindnesses you show her here, she will 
 invite you to visit her there. After that, 
 all will be plain sailing. Do you under- 
 stand ? ” 
 
 “ But what if I do not get a chance of 
 rendering her this service of which you 
 speak?” 
 
 “Never fear, you will have the oppor- 
 tunity. Leave it to me. I will arrange it. 
 All you will have to do is to carry out 
 my instructions.” 
 
 D 
 
go A Maker of Nations. 
 
 By this time they had turned into the 
 street in which her villa was situated. 
 
 “It seems to me a good thing for both 
 of us,” she said more sadly than she had 
 yet spoken, “that we have long ago given 
 up the habit of wondering what the world 
 would say if it knew the sort of people 
 we are. As I understand the arrangement, 
 I am to make the acquaintance of this un- 
 suspecting girl, to win her confidence, to 
 sneak into her home like a thief, and 
 eventually to help to betray her father 
 and his country.” 
 
 Spielman laughed pleasantly. 
 
 “My dear Ooralie,” he said, “ words, like 
 figures, can be made to prove anything. 
 Now I look at the matter from an entirely 
 difierent standpoint. If I desired to pose 
 before you, I should say that human 
 beings are like chessmen, and that the 
 man who would succeed must use them 
 to the best advantage if he desires to win 
 the game.” 
 
 She gave a little sigh. She knew how 
 useless it was to argue with him. Having 
 once set his face towards his goal, nothing 
 she could say or do would turn him from 
 his purpose. And yet she was so tired 
 of plotting and scheming, so wearied x)! 
 
A Maker of Nations. 51 
 
 intrigues and conspiracies. Between them 
 they were making her quite old. She felt 
 as if her face already contained a thou- 
 sand crowsfeet. Why could he not leave 
 her alone? Why could he not permit her 
 to lead the sort of life she desired, un- 
 molested ? 
 
 At this moment the carriage pulled up 
 before her residence. The dragoman de- 
 scended from the box, and rapped upon 
 the panels of the gate with the hilt of 
 his sword. When the doors had been 
 thrown open they drove into the courtyard. 
 
 “You referred Just now to the reception 
 at the Abdin Palace to-night,” she said, 
 as she prepared to alight. “ Shall you be 
 present ? ” 
 
 “ Since I know that you are going, of 
 course,” he answered. “I have not had 
 the honour of meeting His Highness since 
 my arrival in Cairo. You will perhaps be 
 able then to assure me that I was not 
 wrong when I promised myself the pleasure 
 of your assistance.” 
 
 “I will let you know then,” she replied, 
 only too glad to obtain a respite, however 
 short. 
 
 “ It is possible you might, perhaps, per- 
 mit us to come on here afterwards?” he 
 
 umERstn or iitiNofs 
 
52 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 said, in the tone of a man who asks a 
 question and is rather doubtful as to what 
 sort of answ’er he will receive. 
 
 “You say ws,” she continued. “To 
 whom do you refer ? ” 
 
 “I was thinking of the men who are to 
 assist us in the matter of which we have 
 been speaking.” 
 
 “ MacCartney, I presume ? ” 
 
 “And his companion,” Spielman replied, 
 “ who, I may inform you, is no less a person 
 than our old friend Durrington.” 
 
 The colour entirely departed from her 
 face. Tor a moment every atom of her 
 self-control deserted her. When she spoke 
 again her voice trembled so that she could 
 scarcely frame the words she desired to 
 utter. 
 
 “ Do you mean that he is also going to 
 take part in this affair? ” 
 
 “Why not?” he asked, as he noticed the 
 expression upon her face. “It is too big a 
 business for MacCartney to manage single- 
 handed.” 
 
 “ And he is in Cairo now ? ” 
 
 “ He has been here upwards of a week,” 
 Spielman replied. “ It will be quite a meet- 
 ing of old friends, will it not ? ” 
 
 To this she offered no reply. The news 
 
A Maker of Nations. 53 
 
 she had heard had quite unnerved her. She 
 was aware that her companion was watch- 
 ing her, and that he was reading her inmost 
 thoughts. But she could not recover her 
 self-possession, try how she would. 
 
 “ Forgive me,” said Spielman at last. “ I 
 am keeping you standing here. If you 
 catch cold, I shall never pardon myself. 
 Let me bid you au revoir for the present. 
 We shall meet this evening without fail.” 
 
 Au revoir” she answered, and then de- 
 clining her offer of the carriage to take 
 him to his hotel, he bowed and left her. 
 
 Once in the street, he paused to light a 
 cigarette, and then continued his walk at a 
 brisk pace. 
 
 “ I had an idea my news would surprise 
 her,” he said to himself as he tramped 
 along. “It is plain that ‘ La Belle Coralie ’ 
 has not got over her weakness for the good 
 Durrington. Everything considered, it is 
 perhaps as well. I have always found that 
 there is nothing that makes a man or a 
 woman do such good work as love. I 
 wonder whether he still cares for her ? I 
 must be satisfied on that point before I 
 trust them too far.” 
 
 Having reached his hotel, he dressed, 
 dined, and when he had smoked a cigar and 
 
54 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 had discussed the latest developments in a 
 certain section of European politics with an 
 entirely amiable, though somewhat secretive, 
 Austrian attache, who was in Cairo on 
 leave, set ofi for the Palace Abdin. 
 
 “ These functions are alike, all the 
 world over,” he said to himself with a 
 touch of weariness, after he had paid his 
 respects to His Highness and was making 
 the circuit of the rooms. “ At St. James’s, 
 the Hoffburg, at Potsdam, the Quirinal, or 
 even here in semi-French semi-English semi- 
 Turkish Cairo ; always the same air of un- 
 reality, disquiet, the same stuffy atmosphere, 
 and the same show of combined gaiety and 
 secrecy that would not deceive an intelligent 
 schoolgirl. Ah ! here comes dear Coralie, 
 looking eighteen and feeling eight and forty. 
 She has been taking chloral, that is very 
 evident. Mais jpourquoiy mademoiselle 1 
 Cela Tie pent que vous aviez peur ? ” 
 
 There may be some people in this carping 
 world of ours who would assert that there 
 have been occasions in the life of Coralie 
 Vanhoysen when her beautiful face has been 
 of more assistance to her than the resources 
 of all the banks of Europe put together. If 
 this were so, it is doubtful whether she ever 
 looked handsomer than she did on the occa- 
 
r‘r 
 
“The French Minister . . . seemed proud of the distinction.” 
 
 A Maker oj Nations] [Page 55 
 
A Maker of Nations. 55 
 
 sion to which I am now referring. For the 
 reason that an attempt to describe her 
 costume in detail would necessitate an ex- 
 haustive dredging of the dictionary in search 
 of adjectives, it would perhaps be as well 
 for me to limit myself to citing the interest- 
 ing fact that she was dressed to perfection, 
 and that she carried herself like a woman 
 who knows she is beautiful, and is disposed 
 to set sufficient value upon her charms. 
 The French Minister, on whose arm her 
 hand rested, seemed proud of the distinction 
 accorded him. 
 
 Presently they encountered Spielman. 
 Coralie stopped and held out her hand, 
 smiling bewitchingly as she did so. 
 
 “ Then you have come after all ? ” she 
 said. 
 
 “Did you not say that I should have 
 the pleasure of meeting you ? ” he answered 
 with a bow. “ How, therefore, could I 
 remain away ? ” Then turning to the 
 dapper little Frenchman before him, he 
 continued, “ Permit me, Monsieur le Comte, 
 to offer my congratulations on the success 
 which has attended your efforts to bring 
 about a termination of the unfortunate 
 Umbabah incident. Your policy of inaction 
 was Machiavellian in its simplicity, and I 
 
56 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 confess I envy you the success it has 
 achieved.” 
 
 “ Approbation from Sir Hubert Stanley is 
 praise indeed,” quoted the ambassador sar- 
 castically. He did not like Spielman, and 
 he had not the least objection to letting 
 him know it. Then seeing that Coralie 
 desired to remain with his rival, he left 
 her and crossed the room to pay his 
 respects to a famous Parisian beauty who 
 had but lately arrived in Cairo. Even 
 ambassadors sometimes know when they 
 are de trop. 
 
 “ What a crush it is ! ” said Coralie, as 
 she surveyed the people about her. “ The 
 sweeping of the Chancelleries, I should 
 think.” Then turning to the Duke of 
 Perrambino, who at that moment made his 
 appearance at her elbow, and who could 
 scarcely have failed to hear her last re- 
 marks, she continued, “Ah, Monsieur le 
 Duo, how nice it is to see you here ! I 
 had no idea you were in Egypt. The 
 rooms are very full, are they not ? All 
 one’s friends seem to be present.” 
 
 The Duke of Perrambino rubbed his fat 
 white hands together. 
 
 “ I cannot believe that, madame,” he 
 said. “ For in that case the walls of the 
 
A Maker of Nations. 57 
 
 Palace Abdin would surely present the same 
 appearance as those of Jericho after the 
 sounding of Joshua’s trumpets.” 
 
 “ Perrambino has reduced the art of pay- 
 ing compliments to an exact science,” said 
 Coralie, when the little Italian had made 
 his bow and proceeded on his circuit of the 
 room. “ It’s my belief that he prepares 
 them beforehand and fires them off like 
 minute guns when occasion permits. Now 
 take me somewhere out of this crush to a 
 place where we can sit down and talk 
 undisturbed.” 
 
 “I know the very spot,” said Spielman. 
 Then to himself he added, “ She is going 
 to be reasonable. That means that she 
 wants me to tell her about Durrington. 
 Very well; I have not the least objection, 
 provided, of course, I get my own way 
 eventually.” 
 
 When they had found the place they 
 wanted, they seated themselves, and Spiel- 
 man entered upon his business forthwith. 
 
 Two hours later Coralie and Spielman 
 stood side by side in the small but taste- 
 fully furnished drawing-room of the villa 
 she had rented for the season. They were 
 waiting for MacCartney and Durrington, 
 and Spielman noticed that while her con- 
 
58 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 versation was as animated as usual, her 
 eyes wandered continually towards the clock 
 upon the mantelpiece. The hands of the 
 timepiece indicated half-past eleven, when 
 the portiere was drawn aside and a tall, 
 grey-haired man, with a bristling moustache 
 of the same colour, and dark piercing eyes, 
 entered the room, accompanied by the in- 
 dividual whom we last saw abjuring himself 
 for his inability to forget the past. Coralie 
 rose and went across the room to meet 
 them. She shook hands with the taller 
 man, and expressed the pleasure it gave 
 her to see him again ; then she turned to 
 Durrington. Her face was still pale, but 
 the moment’s respite she had had while 
 welcoming MacCartney had given her time 
 to get her feelings under control. As for 
 Durrington, he had been dreading this 
 moment for the last eight hours, that is to 
 say, ever since he had been informed that 
 she was in Cairo. Now that he was in her 
 presence, however, he found to his surprise 
 that he was not as much affected as he had 
 expected he would be. Presently they went 
 into an adjoining room for supper. During 
 the progress of the meal nothing was said 
 concerning the matter which was the occa- 
 sion of their meeting that night. When the 
 
A Maker of Nations. 59 
 
 cigarettes were lighted afterwards, however, 
 the matter was fully discussed. 
 
 “You have no objection to joining us, 
 Durrington, I presume ? ” asked Spielman 
 with a sharp glance at the other’s face. 
 
 “Not in the least,” Durrington replied. 
 “I am anxious to get to work again. Ever 
 since that wretched business in Cuba fizzled 
 out so disgracefully I have been an idle 
 man.” 
 
 Spielman looked at MacCartney. 
 
 “And you?” he asked. 
 
 The other nodded. It was not his habit 
 to talk much; he had risked love, life, and 
 most of what makes life worth living on a 
 nod before now. Spielman turned to Coralie, 
 who was seated at the piano. 
 
 “ And are we to have the pleasure of 
 counting you one of us, dear Coralie ? ” he 
 asked. 
 
 “If you wish it, I shall be only too 
 pleased,” she answered warmly. 
 
 And so, in a cloud of cigarette smoke, 
 and to the accompaniment of one of 
 Schumann’s sweetest melodies, the future 
 of a South American Kepublic was arranged 
 for. 
 
CHAPTEK III. 
 
 T he night was bitterly cold, and the wind 
 driving down from the mountains, out 
 through the passes to the plains beyond, out 
 like a whip, causing the skins of such un- 
 fortunates as chanced to be exposed to it to 
 tingle and burn as though they had been 
 soundly flogged. High up in the firmament, 
 above the snow-clad peaks, the stars shone 
 with marvellous brilliance. A faint sigh 
 came from the stunted pines at the foot of 
 the slope ; otherwise everything was preter- 
 naturally still. Only the lights shining from 
 the windows of the estancia at the entrance 
 to the pass, gave evidence of human life, 
 and they seemed to be looking out upon 
 the world with angry eyes, as though they 
 were aware that the reason of their being 
 alight at such an hour was a menace to 
 the peace of the country of which the moun- 
 tains were the outer guard. Situated, as I 
 have said, at the mouth of one of the lone- 
 liest passes of all that lonely range, this 
 
A Maker of Nations. 6i 
 
 farmhouse from a distance appeared to be a 
 somewhat pretentious building ; but on closer 
 inspection it would have been found to con- 
 sist of but five rooms, though the verandah 
 which surrounded it on every side gave it 
 an appearance of being larger than was war- 
 ranted by its actual size. In all other re- 
 spects it was a typical South American build- 
 ing. Its history had been a chequered one. 
 It had been designed and built by an extra- 
 ordinary individual, who, when other em- 
 ployments failed, had taken to farming as 
 a last experiment. An experiment it cer- 
 tainly had been, and, as the result proved, a 
 disastrous one in every sense of the word. 
 That he had ever expected it would be suc- 
 cessful showed the hopeless inefficiency of 
 the man, for, had he searched the whole 
 length of the mountain range, he could 
 scarcely have discovered a more unsatis- 
 factory spot on which to try his luck. No- 
 thing had grown there in the past, and it 
 was equally certain that nothing would do 
 so in the future. And yet I am wrong, for 
 at the time I am attempting to describe, it 
 was engaged in producing as fine a crop of 
 sedition and privy conspiracy, as could have 
 been discovered anywhere on the surface of 
 our terrestrial sphere. The principal living 
 
62 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 room — that is to say, the room looking on 
 to the verandah on the side nearest the pass 
 — was brilliantly lighted. It was, however, 
 far from being a luxurious apartment; as a 
 matter of fact, the greater portion of its 
 furniture was of home construction, and was 
 the handiwork of that eccentric individual 
 to whom the house itself owed its existence. 
 At the present moment the individuals using 
 it were five in number, all men. They were, 
 moreover, as busy as human beings could 
 well be. On the table in the centre in- 
 numerable papers were deposited, though they 
 could scarcely be seen by reason of the large 
 map which was spread above them. It was 
 around this map that the men were grouped. 
 Three of them I have already described. 
 The person seated at the head of the table, 
 in the place of most importance, was none 
 other than our old friend Joseph Spielman, 
 as cool and unimpressionable as when we 
 saw him driving in the Oezireh Park. On 
 his right, holding in his hand a sheet of 
 paper upon which he occasionally made 
 notes, was MacCartney, who, when we made 
 his acquaintance in Cairo, had but lately re- 
 turned from conducting a campaign in the 
 Philippines. Opposite him was Durrington, 
 the man who had so carefully schooled him- 
 
A Maker of Nations. 63 
 
 self to forget the past, and yet found it diffi- 
 cult to do so. At the further end of the 
 table, no less interested, but displaying much 
 more excitement, were two strangers. The 
 taller, a by no means unpleasant-looking man 
 of fifty, was a well-known character in the 
 State. He was of Irish descent, a Member 
 of Congress, and a determined foe of the 
 Grovernment then in power. His companion 
 was a shorter and stouter man, whose Jet 
 black hair, sallow skin, and piercing eyes 
 proclaimed him a Spaniard of the Spaniards. 
 Twice already he had come into contact with 
 the authorities for attempting to overthrow 
 the existing order of things. The third time 
 must either prove successful or it would be 
 necessary for him to make a hurried exit 
 from the country. The name of the first 
 was O’Donoghue, that of the second Larralde. 
 
 Spielman made a note with his pencil on 
 the margin of the map and then looked at 
 the Spaniard. 
 
 “You are quite certain that your prepara- 
 tions are complete?” he said; “that you 
 have neglected nothing ? ” 
 
 “ Quite certain,” the Spaniard replied. 
 “ The rifles and the extra men reached me 
 safely, and since my receipt of both I have 
 drilled my peons as often as occasion ofiered. 
 
64 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 I have also sounded my neighbours on the 
 subject, and while they are not disposed to 
 make a move at present, I do not think 
 there is any fear but that they will join us 
 as soon as our success is established.” 
 
 “ That is so characteristic of one’s neigh- 
 bours,” replied Spielman with a little sneer, 
 “ In the meanwhile keep your eye on Mar- 
 tinez and his troops, and, if you think he 
 has the least suspicion, do not fail to let 
 me know. We cannot afford to be watched 
 just now.” 
 
 He turned to O’Donoghue. 
 
 “ Did you receive the hundred men I sent 
 you last week?” 
 
 “I did,” the other replied, “and distributed 
 them as you directed. Bedad, they’re a fine 
 cut-throat lot to let loose on a country-side.” 
 
 “ They will fight, at any rate,” answered 
 Spielman. “ If your unhappy Kepublic is 
 ever to be placed on a basis of prosperity — 
 that is the term, I fancy, is it not? — they 
 are the men to do it. As soon as you hear 
 from me you will move to this point, thirty 
 miles due south of the port. You will take 
 up your position with your men in the little 
 village of Quirique, and at any cost you will 
 prevent Martinez from joining forces with 
 the President.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 65 
 
 “And you? Where will you be?” 
 
 “ Nowhere,” Spielman replied quietly, but 
 with emphasis. “ By that time I shall 
 have effaced myself completely, and our 
 friend MacCartney will have taken over 
 command. You will look to him for instruc- 
 tions.” 
 
 MacCartney raised his big bulk from the 
 chair upon which he had been sitting, and 
 stood with his back to the wall, his hands 
 behind him. He looked the typical soldier, 
 calm, collected, and accustomed to command. 
 Whatever the circumstance might have been 
 that had caused him to leave his own proper 
 service, it certainly had not been a deficiency 
 in soldierliness, if I may so express it. 
 Nature had fitted him for the profession of 
 arms, and he was as capable in that direc- 
 tion as he was incapable in others. 
 
 “ Bear one thing in mind,” he said shortly, 
 for, strange though it may seem, he could 
 never forget that the man he was address- 
 ing was practically a traitor to his country, 
 “ don’t let Martinez take you by surprise. 
 The revolution will commence at midnight 
 on the twenty-third. I shall seize the port 
 at daybreak, land my additional forces, and 
 march upon the capital forthwith. If Mar- 
 tinez has not passed you by nightfall, you 
 
 K 
 
66 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 will cross the mountains and establish your- 
 self at Querida, where I can get at you if 
 I want you.” 
 
 The other looked a little crestfallen. This 
 was by no means the programme he had 
 mapped out for himself When one takes 
 part in revolutions one feels entitled to do 
 a little fighting, and O’Donoghue had pic- 
 tured himself performing prodigies of valour. 
 To be relegated to the background, or, in 
 other words, to be kept kicking his heels in 
 small villages while others, who had not 
 half so much interest in the matter at issue, 
 were breaking heads, struck the Irishman 
 as being beyond a Joke, and for a moment 
 he felt inclined to protest. Spielman noticed 
 what was passing in his mind, and laid his 
 hand upon his arm. 
 
 “ Kemember one thing,” he said, in a 
 voice that was as soothing as that of a 
 mother talking to her infant child, “ when 
 Cavarro is deposed, your life will be of value 
 to the Eepublic. We cannot allow you to 
 run too many unnecessary risks.” 
 
 A smile of gratified vanity spread over 
 O’Donoghue’s face. There was not the least 
 likelihood that he would ever occupy the 
 presidential chair, but Spielman had been 
 made aware of his aspirations, and, as he 
 
A Maker of Nations. 67 
 
 had done in other cases, he used them to 
 further his own ends. Later on more drastic 
 measures could be employed if necessary. 
 It was a trait in his character that so long 
 as he could cajole a person into carrying 
 out his wishes, he never threatened. He re- 
 membered that for the donkey which is 
 always being beaten the stick is no longer 
 an article of terror. 
 
 At this moment Spielman’s imperturbable 
 manservant, an Albanian who had been 
 twice condemned to be shot as a spy, and 
 who feared no other being on the face of 
 the globe but his master, entered with a 
 tray, upon which were a number of cups 
 of coffee. Each person took one, and, for 
 the next few minutes, the only sound to 
 be heard was the sipping of the men and 
 the sighing of the wind round the corner 
 of the house. 
 
 “And now,” said O’Donoghue, as he 
 placed his empty cup on a chair beside 
 him, “ I think I had better be getting 
 along. It’s a good thirty-mile ride to my 
 place, and if I am not there by daybreak 
 there are folk who may possibly be talking. 
 Senor Larralde, may I have the pleasure 
 of your society upon the road ? ” 
 
 Spielman’s eyes met MacCartney’s. There 
 
68 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 was an expression in them that the other 
 understood. The former knew that if he, 
 himself, were to attempt to detain the 
 Spaniard the Irishman would suspect that 
 he was deliberately attempting to keep 
 them apart. MacCartney could do it in his 
 bluff, soldierly way, and O’Donoghue would 
 be none the wiser. 
 
 “ In that case you’ll certainly not be 
 home by daybreak,” said the latter, picking 
 up a sheaf of documents as he spoke. 
 “ I have all these to go through with 
 Larralde before we separate. Let your 
 horse remain in the corral, and we’ll get to 
 work again.” 
 
 The very clumsiness of the excuse blinded 
 the future president. He rose to his feet, 
 little dreaming that he had been tricked, 
 and that all his life’s ambition had been 
 lost in so simple and unostentatious a 
 fashion. 
 
 “ I’m afraid it’s impossible,” he said, 
 holding out his hand to Spielman. “ I’d 
 better be off. We don’t want to excite 
 suspicion just now, do we ? ” 
 
 “ It would be the height of folly,” the 
 other replied gravely “ Well, if you think 
 you must go, good-night. We will keep 
 you informed of the course of events.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 69 
 
 O’Donoghue shook hands all round, and 
 then moved towards the door. 
 
 “ I’ll help you with your horse,” said 
 Durrington, and accordingly he rose and 
 followed him out into the darkness. When 
 the Irishman had saddled up and had taken 
 his departure, the other stood looking down 
 the track in the direction in which he had 
 disappeared. 
 
 “ Spielman wants to keep them apart,” 
 he said to himself. “He knows that it is 
 the ambition of both men to be president, 
 and, for his own sake as well as theirs, 
 he does not like to trust them too much 
 together, particularly in the mountains on a 
 dark night. One of them might have the 
 misfortune to lose the other, and then there 
 would be trouble all round. What a beast 
 of a world this is, and what a lot of 
 wolves we are, to be sure ? ” 
 
 This apostrophe was addressed to a wicked- 
 looking cactus that reared its head out of 
 the sand before him like a spirit of the 
 waste. Then he glanced up at the moun- 
 tain peaks, and, had it been daylight, it 
 might have been observed that quite a 
 different expression came over his face. It 
 looked for the moment as if the habitable 
 globe was a little more desirable, and one’s 
 
yo A Maker of Nations. 
 
 fellow-creatures not quite so near akin 
 to the vulpine tribe, as they had appeared 
 to him a minute or so before. 
 
 Spielman was essentially a creation of his 
 own epoch ; Durrington, on the other hand, 
 might very well have lived in the twelfth 
 or thirteenth century. He was a soldier of 
 fortune in the true sense of the word. 
 Content to take life as he found it, he appre- 
 ciated its pleasures at their full value, and 
 endured its hardships as the price to be 
 paid in return for its benefits. Accustomed 
 from his youth up to regard all men with 
 suspicion, until he was convinced to the 
 contrary, he was seldom imposed upon. 
 On the other hand, his confidence, having 
 once been won, was not easily shaken. He 
 was a perfect leader of men, a quick and 
 accurate judge of a situation, could keep 
 his head amidst the greatest excitement, 
 and act promptly, and in the right way, 
 at the critical moment. 
 
 Cold though the night was, he appeared 
 to be in no hurry to return to the room 
 in which he had left his companions. The 
 black outline of the mountains probably 
 possessed a fascination for him, for he 
 stood leaning on the rail of the verandah, 
 watching them intently for upwards of a 
 
A Maker of Nations. 71 
 
 quarter of an hour. On this particular 
 evening he was scarcely himself. He was 
 out of joint with his world. Part of his 
 life as it had been for years past, to-night 
 the plotting and planning of his com- 
 panions was unendurable. The very sound 
 of Spielman’s silken voice, the high-pitched, 
 almost querulous, tones of the Spaniard, 
 the broad liquid brogue of the Irishman, 
 and even MacCartney’s ponderousness irri- 
 tated him beyond measure. And all the 
 time he was endeavouring to convince him- 
 self that he could not account for it. If 
 the truth must be told, however, the ex- 
 planation was an eminently simple one ; 
 he was in love. 
 
 Three months before, immediately follow- 
 ing his arrival in the Eepuhlic, that is to 
 say, while he was waiting at the port for 
 instructions from Spielman, who had not 
 yet put in an appearance, he had met 
 with an adventure which had left, and 
 seemed likely to leave, a lasting impres- 
 sion on him. As all the world knows, 
 San Pedro is the principal port as well 
 as the largest city of the Eepuhlic. It is 
 a place of many attractions, and probably 
 the most picturesque of the South American 
 sea ports. The harbour is admirably con- 
 
72 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 strueted, the fortifications are worthy of a 
 country where one anticipates revolutions 
 as regularly and naturally as one does the 
 return of spring, while the inhabitants are 
 a warm-hearted, easily led, pleasure-loving 
 people, who have come to regard life with 
 an indulgent eye, and, perhaps for the 
 reason mentioned above, would appear, at 
 first glance, to have no care or thought 
 for the morrow or its affairs. Nearer the 
 front, or waterside, the town is practically 
 European; the rows of warehouses, stores, 
 Government departments, etc., have been 
 said to remind travellers of Liverpool, but 
 for the artist the streets, lying further 
 back in the older Spanish residential 
 quarter, would possess most attraction. 
 Here are houses of old grey stone, the 
 windows of which are invariably hidden 
 behind jalousies, and most of which have, 
 in some almost forgotten period, been 
 painted green. Elaborately - worked iron 
 gates in most instances open into the 
 street, and through these the curious may 
 catch a glimpse of the flower-stocked patio, 
 which in nine cases out of ten forms the 
 centre of South American houses. It is 
 on a moonlight night, however, that the 
 picturesqueness of the street is most 
 
A Maker of Nations. 73 
 
 apparent. With the great Southern moon 
 sailing in a cloudless sky, the old houses 
 look more like medijeval fortresses than 
 commonplace dwellings of the nineteenth 
 century. In the centre of the road, per- 
 haps, it is as clear as day; the darkness 
 on one of the footpaths, however, is usually 
 that of Erebus. 
 
 On one auspicious evening, therefore, 
 Durrington, having no other occupation, set 
 off for a ramble through the older portion 
 of the city. Leaving behind him the Plaza 
 del Madrid, in which his hotel was situated, 
 he walked just as the humour seized him, 
 following street after street, until he lost all 
 count of his direction. But for the difference 
 in the vegetation, and a slight, but scarcely 
 perceptible, change in the architecture of 
 the houses, he might have been in Old 
 Spain. Indeed, this was the very thought 
 that was passing through his mind at the 
 moment when the little incident, which was 
 destined to have such a marked effect on 
 his after life, occurred. Leaving the broad 
 street along which he had been hitherto 
 making his way, he turned to his left and 
 passed down a somewhat narrower one. 
 The houses, which were still large, were 
 wider apart, the spaces between consisting 
 
74 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 of gardens, whose high walls helped to 
 throw an additional shadow across the road- 
 way. Once, when Durrington stopped in 
 his walk to light a fresh cigar, the music 
 of a guitar reached him and added to the 
 romance of the walk and of the night. He 
 had proceeded upwards of half the length 
 of the street, and was wondering whether 
 he had not better retrace his steps to his 
 hotel, when his quick eye detected the 
 figure of a man, standing in the deeper 
 shadow, a short distance in front of him. 
 Instinct told him one thing: he was there 
 for no good purpose. What, therefore, were 
 his intentions? 
 
 Feeling sure that the other had not 
 observed him, so taken up was he in watch- 
 ing the house before which he stood, Dur- 
 rington drew into the shadow, and settled 
 himself down to watch. He was curious 
 to know what business the other could have 
 with the house in question. A moment 
 later a flood of light streamed out into the 
 street, the ^atio gates were opened, and a 
 man emerged, saying in Spanish as he did 
 so, “ I shall return in a few minutes,” At 
 the same instant the retiring individual in 
 the shadow of the wall straightened him- 
 self up, and prepared for business. Hum- 
 
A Maker of Nations. 75 
 
 ming an air from the “ Barber of Seville,” 
 the new-comer stepped into the centre of 
 the road, and began to walk quickly in the 
 direction Durrington had come, the spy fol- 
 lowing him at a distance of scarcely fifty 
 paces. Suddenly he found himself con- 
 fronted by Durrington. 
 
 “Well, my friend,” said the latter quietly, 
 “perhaps you will be kind enough to tell 
 me the meaning of this espionage ? ” 
 
 The man did not answer. One thing was 
 certain; at close quarters he looked even 
 less prepossessing than he had done at long 
 range. He endeavoured to shake off the 
 retaining hand upon his arm. This was a 
 foolish policy, for had he given even a fairly 
 satisfactory account of himself it is doubt- 
 ful whether Durrington would have pro- 
 ceeded any further in the matter. He was 
 not prone to meddle in other folks’ affairs. 
 When, however, the stranger declined to 
 answer his inquiry and endeavoured to use 
 force in order to escape, the other’s ob- 
 stinacy was roused, and he determined to 
 see the matter through, whatever the result 
 might be. He accordingly tightened his 
 grip on the man’s arm, at the same time 
 giving him to understand, very plainly, that 
 he was not going to let him escape until he 
 
76 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 had received a more satisfactory explanation. 
 Hearing a voice, the man who had lately 
 left the house stopped and looked round. 
 He had not noticed the presence of two 
 men, and in South American cities after 
 dark one jumps to conclusions quickly. He 
 argued that he must he in some way con- 
 nected with the affair; accordingly he re- 
 traced his steps. Seeing this, Durrington’s 
 captive struggled the more wildly to escape. 
 But the more he fought the tighter he 
 was held. 
 
 “ Let me go, senor,” he hissed. “ By what 
 right do you detain me? Let me go.” 
 
 “Not until this gentleman has had a look 
 at you,” replied Durrington. “For all I 
 know to the contrary he may be glad to 
 make your acquaintance.” 
 
 The stranger in question was scarcely 
 more than a dozen paces away by this time. 
 The man’s struggles had ceased for the 
 moment, but Durrington noticed that his 
 right hand was working under his poncho 
 in a suspicious manner. Before he could 
 prevent him, however, the man had drawn 
 a knife, and with a muttered, “ Your wages 
 for meddling, senor,” had plunged it into 
 the other’s shoulder. So unexpected was 
 the blow and so great was the shock, that 
 
A Maker of Nations. 77 
 
 Durrington relaxed his hold and staggered 
 back against the wall. Then, with a laugh, 
 the man turned on his heel and ran down 
 the street in the opposite direction. So 
 quickly had this little drama been acted 
 that scarcely five minutes had elapsed since 
 Durrington entered the street, and less than 
 sixty seconds since the man, who was now 
 approaching, had left the house. By the 
 time he came up Durrington had arrived at 
 the conclusion that he had met his fate ; 
 his senses were leaving him, and he had 
 only time to answer the stranger’s question 
 as to what had happened by saying, “ He 
 was following you,” when a sudden coldness 
 passed over him, and he fell to the ground 
 unconscious. 
 
 When his senses returned he found him- 
 self lying on a hed in a room he had never 
 seen before. It was not the apartment he 
 had occupied at his hotel, and for the 
 moment he was at a loss to understand 
 where he could be. Unable to bear the 
 fatigue of trying to solve the mystery, he 
 closed his eyes again and was soon asleep. 
 When next he woke it was to find a small, 
 elderly gentleman with the kindliest of faces 
 and the whitest of hair leaning over him. 
 
 “ This is very good,” the other was mut- 
 
78 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 tering to himself in Spanish, when he 
 noticed that his patient was conscious once 
 more. “ This is exceedingly good. Ah, so 
 you are awake, senoro How do you find 
 yourself now ? ” 
 
 Durrington tried to analyse his feelings, 
 but not being able to do so, answered the 
 other’s inquiry with a question. 
 
 “ Will you be good enough to tell me 
 where I am, and how I got here ? ” 
 
 “ I shall be delighted,” the little man 
 replied in the same cheery tones. “ De- 
 lighted, I am sure. You are in the house 
 of General Jose de Martinez, whose life you 
 so heroically saved from the knife of an 
 assassin. After that villain had stabbed 
 you, you were brought here, I was sent 
 for, and for several days you have been 
 lying at death’s door. However, that is 
 over now, and you may consider yourself on 
 the high road to recovery. I’m delighted — 
 delighted, I’m sure.” 
 
 “ Martinez ? Did you say Martinez ? ” 
 gasped Durrington, whose surprise was 
 almost overwhelming. 
 
 “ I did,” replied the medico. “ This is 
 the house of the illustrious General Jose 
 de Martinez, commander-in-chief. And now, 
 my young friend, you must talk no more or 
 
A Maker of Nations. 79 
 
 you will do yourself some harm. In that 
 case his Excellency would never forgive me 
 — never.” 
 
 He need not have given himself the 
 trouble of saying it, for Durrington had not 
 the least desire to talk. All he wanted to 
 do was to be allowed to think, to try 
 and arrive at some sort of understanding of 
 his position. Almost the last instructions 
 he had received from Spielman, prior to his 
 leaving Cairo, were to the effect that, im- 
 mediately on his arrival in the Eepublic, 
 he was to use his best endeavours to get 
 on friendly terms with the commander-in- 
 chief of the presidential army. 
 
 Since he had landed he had certainly 
 done his best, but Martinez, as he soon 
 discovered, was not a man to be easily 
 approached. He was reserved, in a man- 
 ner unsociable, had but few friends, and 
 no intimates, was a strict disciplinarian, 
 adored by the majority of his army, and 
 feared by those who affected to hold him 
 in most esteem. Small wonder, therefore, 
 that Durrington could scarcely believe his 
 good fortune in having gained admission to 
 his house under such favourable auspices. 
 Martinez could scarcely deny the privilege 
 of his friendship to a man who had ren- 
 
8o 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 dered him such a signal service. All that 
 was necessary now was to play the cards 
 he held with care, to keep his eyes and 
 ears open, and above all to take special 
 precautions not to allow Martinez to suspect 
 either his identity or his errand. A stab 
 in the shoulder, even though it had come 
 near to costing him his life, was a cheap 
 price to pay for so great an opportunity. 
 
 That afternoon, when Durrington woke 
 again, he found an elderly lady seated by 
 his bedside watching him with kind, motherly 
 eyes. She was a fine figure of a woman, 
 and showed unmistakable signs of having 
 once possessed more than her fair share of 
 good looks. Seeing that Durrington was 
 awake, she introduced herself to him as 
 Madame Martinez, at the same time expres- 
 sing the gratitude of herself and her children 
 for the service he had rendered them. The 
 patient inquired whether the would-be 
 assassin had been arrested, only to learn 
 that nothing whatsoever had been heard of 
 him. It was supposed that he must have 
 been a discharged soldier who had cherished 
 a grudge against the commander-in-chief. 
 This, however, was mere conjecture. Still, 
 the fact remained that Martinez owed his 
 life to Durrington’s thoughtfulness, and 
 
A Maker of Nations. 8i 
 
 when, later on, he visited the sick room he 
 was not slow to express his sense of obligation. 
 
 “You have rendered me a service, sefior, 
 which I can never repay,” he said in his 
 blufi, soldierly way. “ If the chance ever 
 arises in which you stand in need of a 
 friend, you may count on Jos4 de Martinez.” 
 
 In the brief recapitulation of all that 
 occurred up to the night when we left 
 Durrington at the estancia looking up at 
 the mountains and apostrophising the world 
 in general, I am not permitted sufficient 
 space to describe the young man’s feelings, 
 when he found himself the hero of the hour, 
 and of the Martinez establishment. He had 
 achieved his purpose and had worked his 
 way into the commander-in-chief’s good 
 graces, but, now that he had done so, he 
 had to ask himself what the next step would 
 be. Was he prepared to play the traitor in 
 return for the hospitality that was lavished 
 upon him? Every instinct recoiled at the 
 mere thought of such a thing. 
 
 A day later the little Spanish surgeon, who 
 had attended him throughout his illness, 
 pronounced his wound to be sufficiently 
 healed to render it safe for him to leave 
 the room. He accordingly dressed himself, 
 and having done so, made his w’ay, preceded 
 
 F 
 
82 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 by Gomez, the ancient man-servant of the 
 establishment, to the patio in the centre of 
 the building. Durrington had feared lest 
 Martinez might be there waiting to receive 
 him in order to express his thanks. This, 
 however, was not the case. There was only 
 one person in the patio — a young lady who 
 had a few moments before been reading a 
 novel, but who w^as now reclining in an 
 easy-chair listening to the music of the 
 fountain in the courtyard, and, if the truth 
 must be told — and why should it not ? — 
 sighing a little for the days of romance that 
 seemed dead and gone beyond recovering. 
 
 How was it possible for her to guess that, 
 far from being dead, romance was only a few 
 paces from her ? A romance that she had 
 never dreamt of in her life before. 
 
 Seeing Durrington, the young lady rose 
 from her chair, and received him with scarcely 
 a trace of embarrassment. For it must be 
 admitted the situation was not without its 
 awkward side. This, however, she combated 
 by meeting him on the simple basis of an 
 invalid. In spite of his protests she insisted 
 that he should occupy the most comfortable 
 chair, which she placed in position for him 
 with her own hands. While thus engaged, 
 the young man stole a look at her. He was 
 
‘Reclining in a chair, listening to the music.” 
 
 A Maker of Nations'] 
 
 [Page 82 
 
A Maker of Nations. 83 
 
 a connoisseur of female beauty, and here 
 was as pretty a bit of Eve’s flesh as any 
 impressionable young man could desire to 
 gaze upon. Having made him comfortable 
 to her satisfaction, she returned to her own 
 chair, and proceeded to furnish the fortunate 
 young man with her opinion of the action 
 which was the occasion of his presence in 
 the house. 
 
 “ It was certainly fortunate that I was 
 there,” said Durrington. “ But it is scarcely 
 fair to give me ail the credit. Your father, 
 doubtless, would have been quite capable of 
 defending himself.” 
 
 “ My father,” she cried with a little laugh, 
 which was as silvery and full of music as 
 the splashing of the fountain. “ Then, who 
 do you suppose I am ? ” 
 
 “Are you not the daughter of General 
 Martinez ? ” 
 
 “ Oh, dear no,” she answered. “ You 
 have made a delightful mistake. My name 
 is Cavarro, not Martinez. I am the daughter 
 of the President.” 
 
 Here was another and, if possible, a greater 
 surprise. If what she said were true, and 
 there was no sort of reason for doubting it, 
 she would be the young lady with whom 
 Coralie Vanhoysen was instructed to ingrati- 
 
84 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 ate herself in Cairo. Whether she had done 
 so or not, he was not aware, and, in his 
 present humour, was not inclined to make 
 inquiries. It was not long, however, before 
 he was enlightened upon that point. A 
 chance remark brought up the East, one 
 idea suggested another, and ere long they 
 were walking in the bazaars, visiting the 
 Pyramids, and were embarking in a daha- 
 byeah in search of Philae and the Cataracts. 
 This visit had been the girl’s first glimpse 
 of the East, and her enthusiasm knew no 
 bounds. Everyone had been so kind, but 
 kindest of all was a certain pretty widow 
 named Vanhoysen. He made up his mind 
 instantly. It might give rise to complica- 
 tions later on if he feigned ignorance. 
 
 “ Do you mean Coralie Vanhoysen ? ” he 
 asked. 
 
 “ Yes, of course,” she replied. “ Do you 
 know her ? I am so glad. I cannot tell 
 you how kind she was to me. By the way, 
 you may be interested to learn that she is 
 on her way to South America at this mo- 
 ment. She has promised to stay with us 
 at Constancia.” 
 
 “ Indeed,” said Durrington ; but though he 
 spoke with such apparent unconcern, his 
 whole being was up in arms at the vileness 
 
A Maker of Nations. 85 
 
 of the idea. He had disliked the notion 
 from the first, long before he had ever seen 
 the President’s daughter. Now, for the first 
 time, since he had embarked upon the busi- 
 ness, he wished himself done with it. To 
 the actual fighting, when it came, he had 
 not the least objection — far from it. In the 
 excitement of actual warfare there was no 
 time for regrets, no leisure in which a man 
 might think of all he might have done, had 
 life been different, and of a career that had 
 opened so well and was destined to finish in 
 such a dismal fashion. He stole a glance 
 at the girl beside him. It was a beautiful 
 and thoughtful face, that of a typical, well- 
 bred Creole. The eyes were large, soft, and 
 dreamy, and their jet black lashes seemed 
 to sweep her soft cheek, as the eyelids rose 
 and fell. In every particular she was as 
 different from Coralie Vanhoysen as night 
 from day — as light from darkness. And yet 
 he had once thought Coralie the most beau- 
 tiful woman in the world. 
 
 For the next few days — that is to say, 
 until his wound was completely healed, Dur- 
 rington remained a member of the Martinez 
 household. The commander.in-chief would 
 not hear of his leaving until every trace of 
 weakness had disappeared and he was quite 
 
86 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 himself again. It was during that period 
 that Durrington found it difficult to account 
 for his presence in the country. Seeing, 
 however, that his guest was not inclined to 
 be communicative upon the point, the old 
 man did not press it ; he, however, thought 
 fit one day, while assuring him of his interest, 
 to warn him against allowing himself to be 
 drawn into any of the revolutionary con- 
 spiracies which, he happened to know, were 
 so rife at the moment. Durrington could 
 scarcely prevent himself from betraying his 
 surprise. 
 
 “Do you mean to say you think there is 
 going to be trouble ? ” he asked, trying to 
 appear as though he were only taking a mild 
 interest in the matter from a tourist point 
 of view. 
 
 “ I am quite sure of it,” the other replied 
 gravely. “ The Government has known for 
 some considerable time past that there is 
 mischief brewing. The unhappy part of it 
 is that we cannot discover the centre of the 
 trouble, nor find out who the wretches are 
 who are the principal promoters. God grant 
 our suspicions may be incorrect, for civil 
 war in this country would be inexpressibly 
 dreadful. Under the presidency of Cavarro 
 we have known the blessings of peace for 
 
A Maker of Nations. 87 
 
 so long that we have almost forgotten the 
 horrors of war.” 
 
 Durrington was silent for a few minutes. 
 Had Martinez been as quick an observer as 
 he was brave soldier, he would have noticed 
 the little catch in the breath which followed 
 his companion’s last speech. It was as 
 though he were forcing himself to say some- 
 thing which was opposite to both his own 
 inclinations and also to his better judgment. 
 
 “ But surely, General Martinez,” he began, 
 “ your forces should be able to stamp out 
 any little trouble of that kind. It cannot 
 have assumed very great proportions yet.” 
 
 “ The army will do what it can, of 
 course,” he replied, and, as he said it, a 
 look of affection spread over his face like 
 that which illuminated it when he smoothed 
 the cheek of his youngest and favourite 
 daughter. “ But when traitors are in the 
 camp, Senor Durrington, one never knows 
 how thickly or how deeply their hateful 
 seed may be sown, or how near one’s own 
 person the very men themselves may be.” 
 
 After that Durrington asked no more 
 questions : the general’s last speech had 
 been too much of a home-thrust to permit 
 him to venture upon such thin ice again. 
 
 Bour days later he bade the commander- 
 
88 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 in-chief and his household good-bye, and 
 returned to his hotel. He seemed to 
 breathe more freely directly he was on the 
 other side of the ;patio gates. He had 
 promised, however, not to dissociate him- 
 self from them entirely. Mademoiselle 
 Cavarro, being a guest, had of course said 
 nothing, but she had found occasion to 
 refer to Coralie Yanhoysen’s approaching 
 arrival. “ She will be here in a week,” 
 she had observed, “ and Madame Martinez 
 has been kind enough to ask me to pro- 
 long my visit until then. After that we 
 return to Const ancia together, when my 
 father and I will endeavour to persuade 
 Madame Vanhoysen to participate in some 
 of the gaieties of the capital. Should you 
 come to the city, I am sure my father 
 will be very pleased to make your 
 acquaintance.” 
 
 That was all, but it was sufficient to 
 start a train of thought in the young 
 man’s mind that made him happy and un- 
 happy in turn. He made a mental reso- 
 lution that, happen what might, he would 
 have an understanding with Spielman as 
 soon as he should put in an appearance. 
 Eventually, however, Spielman did put in 
 an appearance, and so extreme was his 
 
A Maker of Nations. 89 
 
 haste, and so overwhelming his desire to 
 hear what the others had done, that Dur- 
 rington found himself drafted off into the 
 country before he had time to protest or 
 to ask to be relieved of his appointment 
 in connection with the expedition. Had it 
 not been for the knowledge that he might 
 be able to prove of assistance to his 
 friends of the opposite party, in the event 
 of the revolution being successful, he would 
 have given up all participation in it, and 
 have turned his back upon the Eepublic for 
 good and all. It was of this he was 
 thinking as he stood beside the corral^ 
 looking up at the black outline of the 
 mountains, with the sound of O’Donoghue’s 
 horse’s hoofs growing fainter and fainter 
 in his ears. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 F oe the remainder of the week which 
 followed the evening described at the 
 commencement of the preceding chapter, 
 Durrington was permitted but small leisure 
 in which to discuss either the present state 
 or the ultimate result of his participation 
 in the approaching revolution. Spielman, 
 at the best of times, was a hard task- 
 master, not only to his subordinates, but 
 also to himself. And in this particular 
 instance he eclipsed even his own record. 
 Eor the reason that he was risking so 
 much, he dared not leave anything to 
 chance. Every item of the scheme, from 
 the smuggling into the country of the men 
 and the munitions of war, to the formation 
 of the ministry which was to take up the 
 reins of government, as soon as the men 
 at present in power should be driven out, 
 had been exhaustively arranged. Night after 
 night passengers arrived at the estancia 
 from all parts of the State, bringing with 
 
 90 
 
A Maker of Nations. 91 
 
 them reports which set forth the progress 
 being made by those in charge of the 
 military centres. As they were favourable 
 or otherwise, so was Spielman’s temper ; 
 gentle as a summer breeze when all was 
 well, freezing as an Arctic night when the 
 report was ill. Never for an instant did 
 he lose his grasp of the situation, and un- 
 happy indeed was the lot of the man who 
 attempted to deceive him either in the 
 hope of pleasing, or for any other reason. 
 The cold, passionless eyes would scan his 
 face, and seem to look into his very soul. 
 Then judgment would be pronounced, not 
 only as a punishment for the crime itself, 
 but as a warning to others not to trifle 
 with a man to whom the giving of false 
 evidence was a sin greater, and infinitely 
 more despicable, than mere murder. Lying 
 was a fine art, he would have argued ; a 
 weapon only to be employed by skilled 
 hands, and which should, on no account, 
 be entrusted to the vulgar. On the evening 
 of the third day after O’Donoghue’s appear- 
 ance at the estancia, Durrington returned 
 from a long and extremely dangerous errand 
 into the mountains, which he had under- 
 taken in order to meet and direct a party 
 of men who were due to arrive from the 
 
92 A Maker of Nations, 
 
 neighbouring State. It was necessary that 
 the greatest vigilance should be exercised, 
 for the Presidential troops were in the 
 habit of patrolling the foot of the mountains 
 at irregular intervals, and should they put 
 in an appearance just then, the arrival of 
 so large a number of men, and in so 
 secretive a fashion, could scarcely fail to 
 excite remark, and might very probably 
 hasten the crisis — a thing which Spielman 
 did not at all desire. 
 
 Having handed his horse to a ;peon he 
 made his way to the house, where he 
 found Spielman seated in the verandah, 
 smoking a cheroot and reading a French 
 novel. On seeing Durrington he placed his 
 book on the floor and greeted him with a 
 pretence of astonishment. 
 
 “ Bravo, my friend,” he began. “ Since 
 you are back so early you must have suc- 
 ceeded in your attempt. I congratulate 
 you ! You have accomplished the seemingly 
 impossible — no small feat, all things con- 
 sidered ! Tell me all about it ! ” 
 
 Durrington seated himself before he re- 
 plied. He was by no means easy in his 
 mind. The proper moment he felt had 
 arrived for an explanation with Spielman, 
 and he was going to extort one from him 
 
A Maker of Nations. 93 
 
 if such a thing were possible. At the same 
 time he fully realised the difficulty of his 
 position. 
 
 “I met Gonsalvez at the place agreed 
 upon,” Durrington began, speaking through 
 teeth that bit hard upon the butt of his 
 cigar. “ From what he said to me I 
 gathered that he had had a fairly rough 
 time of it, but the men seemed as jolly as 
 sandboys. I told him to take the Chiaca 
 Pass, and to make his way to Almarez’ 
 estancia by way of the San Juan road, 
 distributing his men as he went, according 
 to the written instructions you sent him, 
 and keeping a bright look out for the 
 enemy’s cavalry.” 
 
 “ And how did the brave Gonsalvez in- 
 cline with regard to the work in hand?” 
 Spielman inquired. “ He realises, of course, 
 that if he is caught, he will be shot with- 
 out trial, I suppose ? ” 
 
 “I don’t fancy he thinks very much about 
 it,” replied Durrington. “ He has been 
 through too many of these little affairs to 
 have much care for his own safety left. I 
 found him reading Eoman history and eating 
 tinned pheasant. They agreed excellently, 
 he said.” 
 
 “ He had Germanicus in his mind, I 
 
94 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 have no doubt,” said Spielman, “ only, un- 
 fortunately for Gonsalvez, Germanicus went 
 in for eagles on the eve of battle, not for 
 tinned pheasants. The allegory, however, 
 is the same in either case. By the way, 
 have you dined?” 
 
 Durrington replied that he had eaten his 
 evening meal in the mountains. Spielman 
 looked at him out of the comer of his 
 eye. He had known from the moment the 
 other had entered the verandah that there 
 was something amiss. What it was, how- 
 ever, he could not guess, but he had his 
 suspicions. Durrington had seemed to him 
 uneasy in his mind for several days, and 
 he was not the sort of man to be affected 
 by any but the most unusual events. He 
 determined to let him broach the matter 
 himself. It is always bad statesmanship to 
 meet trouble half-way. But for some reason 
 or another the other did not seem inclined 
 to begin his explanation. It had looked so 
 easy from a distance. In point of fact he 
 had arranged exactly what he intended 
 saying to Spielman. Now that he was face 
 to face with him, however, it struck him 
 differently. And yet he was far from being 
 a coward. He moved one foot over the 
 other, and to gain time for reflection ht a 
 
A Maker of Nations. 95 
 
 match and applied it to his cigar, which 
 had gone out. 
 
 “Look here, Spielman,” he said at last, 
 and with a visible effort that was not lost 
 upon his companion ; “I don’t want to appear 
 to be acting the part of a prig, but I am 
 anxious to throw up this business and clear 
 out. I’ve come to the conclusion that my 
 nerve is not what it used to be. I can’t 
 somehow stand the strain as I once did. To 
 cut a long story short, I think I’d make a 
 better looker-on than an actual combatant.” 
 
 Spielman took his cigar from his mouth 
 and examined it carefully ; a small piece 
 of the leaf at the end required adjusting. 
 Having replaced it between his teeth, he 
 looked his companion fairly and squarely 
 in the face. 
 
 “ If you think so, try it by all means, dear 
 boy,” he said calmly, and without a trace of 
 anger or disappointment in his voice. “ Don’t 
 let me stand in your way. Only let me say 
 this, once and for all, I’m afraid you’ll find 
 yourself deuced lonely. In a fortnight’s time, 
 possibly before, we shall be at it hammer and 
 tongs, and you’ll be feeling out of it. Of 
 course, I don’t say anything about our side of 
 the business ; what you know of our affairs 
 and that sort of thing ; it is not necessary, 
 
96 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 for you know how we feel. The trouble is, 
 Dick, old man, you’ve unfortunately come 
 to be part and parcel of my life, and I shall 
 find it difficult, if not impossible, to do with- 
 out you.” 
 
 Having delivered himself of this speech, he 
 was silent for a few moments. He wanted 
 to see the effect of his subtle flattery, before 
 he ventured further. He knew very well 
 that to compliment the other upon his cool- 
 ness, his bravery, and his knowledge of men, 
 would be very much like firing peas at an 
 armoured hull — it would be so much waste 
 of time. To pay him a back-handed com- 
 pliment by leading him to suppose that he 
 was altogether indispensable to himself was 
 altogether another matter. Joseph Spielman 
 knew his own power, and he had not studied 
 men for so long for nothing. He watched 
 Durrington, and saw an involuntary expres- 
 sion of pleasure appear upon his face. I say 
 “ involuntary ” for the reason that it was 
 choked back as soon as it appeared. 
 
 “ I’m awfully sorry,” he said, but not quite 
 as resolutely as before, “ but I’ve come to 
 the conclusion that it would be better for 
 me to act as I say. Feeling as I do about 
 it, I don’t see that I could be of any use 
 to you.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 97 
 
 “I don’t know how you feel, of course,” 
 Spielman replied, “ but I do know one thing, 
 and that is that we shall be awfully sorry to 
 lose you. What is more, it will make a 
 great difference to the cause. We’ve so few 
 dependable men among us that to lose one 
 like yourself is a national calamity. How- 
 ever, I suppose you’ll not be wanting to 
 leave us immediately — I mean not until the 
 actual outbreak of hostilities?” 
 
 Durrington walked into the trap without 
 thinking. He was so thankful that Spielman 
 had not actively resented his proposal, that 
 for the moment he quite forgot his usual 
 prudence. All things considered, it would be 
 ungenerous, he argued, to desert his friends 
 at a time when they most needed his help. 
 For this reason he gave his promise to re- 
 main at his post until the actual fighting 
 should commence. Then he would stand 
 aside and await results, ready in either case 
 to help the woman he had so suddenly come 
 to love. But the question he had never yet 
 been able to satisfactorily answer, though he 
 put it to himself a hundred times and more, 
 was — would she let him help her if by any 
 chance she should come to know the part 
 he had played in the affair? 
 
 “ Very well,” said Spielman, after the little 
 
 G 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 98 
 
 pause that followed Durrington’s last speech, 
 “we’ll leave it like that. You are to con- 
 tinue your work until the fun actually com- 
 mences — then you drop out of the ranks to 
 play the part of umpire — or shall we say of 
 a foreign military attach^. You’ll have rather 
 a good time of it, all things considered — that 
 is, if the other side don’t hang you for 
 having once been associated with us.” 
 
 “ I’ll risk that,” Durrington replied briefly. 
 There was something in the way the other 
 spoke the words “ the other side ” that set 
 a spark to the tinder of his old antagonism. 
 
 “ I thought as much,” said Spielman to 
 himself. “ This decision has something to 
 do with the other side. Now what can be 
 the meaning of it ? ” Then enlightment came 
 to him. “ Ah ! ” he said, “ I see it all. The 
 pretty Coralie ! I had forgotten for the 
 moment that there had ever been anything 
 between them. Now I can appreciate the 
 situation at its true value, and, with a little 
 diplomacy, I fancy I can set it right. 
 Madame Vanhoysen shall be the shepherd 
 who turns this wandering sheep back into 
 the proper fold.” 
 
 All of which goes to show that even a 
 clever man may sometimes make a mistake, 
 and, what is worse, may persevere in it. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 99 
 
 The following inorning Spielman found 
 Durrington in the verandah. Drawing him 
 out of hearing of anyone in the house, he 
 handed him a letter. It was addressed to 
 Madame Vanhoysen, care of President Cavarro 
 at his palace in the city of Constancia. 
 
 “ I’ve an errand for you, my dear Durring- 
 ton,” he said with his usual suavity. “ After 
 what you said last night I would not ask 
 you to do it had I anyone else to send. It 
 is impossible, however, for me to go ; Mac- 
 Cartney is too busy, while all the others are 
 too well known to make it safe for them to 
 venture near the capital just at present.” 
 
 Durrington hesitated before he replied. If 
 he took this letter to Coralie Vanhoysen as 
 Spielman wished, he would, in all probability, 
 have an opportunity of seeing the woman he 
 loved. This in itself was suf&cient tempta- 
 tion to him to accept, but, on the other 
 hand, he had already resolved never again 
 to play the part of a spy — and to enter the 
 President’s house and to accept his hospi- 
 tality, when all the time he was in the ser- 
 vice of the enemy, struck him as savouring 
 somewhat of the action of a traitor. “ Have 
 I anything to do beyond delivering this 
 letter? ” he asked. 
 
 “ Nothing at all,” Spielman replied, “ un- 
 
lOO 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 less it is to amuse yourself with the gaieties 
 of the capital. The information I want will 
 take at least three days to acquire. During 
 that time your leisure is your own. Use it 
 as you please.” 
 
 “ And I have your word that I have not 
 any part to play myself — that all I have to 
 do is to hand this letter to Coralie, and to 
 bring you her reply.” 
 
 “ You have my word,” Spielman replied 
 with a little smile hovering round the corners 
 of his mouth. “ Bring me the answer within 
 a week, and I shall be quite satisfied. If 
 it will make your mind any easier I will 
 read you the contents of the note with 
 pleasure.” 
 
 “ That is quite unnecessary,” Durrington 
 replied. “ To tell you the truth, I would 
 rather not know.” 
 
 Spielman was not sorry he had arrived at 
 this decision. He had played a game of 
 bluff, and had Durrington accepted his offer 
 it would have been necessary for him to in- 
 vent some excuse for keeping the contents 
 of the letter from him. His reason will 
 become apparent when I say that among 
 other things it contained an announcement 
 that, in the writer’s opinion, Durrington 
 was wavering in his allegiance to the cause. 
 
A Maker of Nations. loi 
 
 At all hazards she was to persuade him to 
 withdraw his decision, for, said the letter 
 in conclusion, “ if there is anyone in this 
 world who can do this I believe you are 
 that one.” Alas, how fatal and how futile 
 are the endeavours of even the cleverest 
 men when pitted against Fate ! Spielman 
 was despatching Durrington to Coralie Van- 
 hoysen in order that she might persuade him 
 to remain loyal to those who called them- 
 selves his friends, little knowing that by so 
 doing he w^as despatching him to the very 
 place where the strongest influence would 
 be brought to bear to make him forget his 
 allegiance, and secede to the enemy. 
 
 Finding that he was not expected to com- 
 promise himself, Durrington accepted the 
 mission without further parley, and, as if 
 in token of his surrender, stowed the letter 
 away in an inner pocket of his coat. 
 
 “I will deliver it,” he said, “and bring 
 you an answer without fail in a week. You 
 do not want me any more just now, I sup- 
 pose ? If I’m to do the journey comfortably 
 I had better start at once.” 
 
 “ Do so by all means,” said Spielman, 
 and with that Durrington left him, and 
 went into the house to prepare himself for 
 the road. 
 
102 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ My dear Dick,” began Spielman, when 
 he found himself alone once more, “ I sin- 
 cerely hope, for your own sake, that after 
 our long intimacy you are not going to be 
 so foolish as to try and sever your connec- 
 tion with me. At the present juncture I 
 have the utmost need of your services, and, 
 like the Old Man of the Sea, when I have 
 once taken a fancy to a person, I am rather 
 hard to shake off. It would be so foolish 
 if we were to quarrel, and so very unfortu- 
 nate for you. However, I have no doubt 
 that the fair Coralie will be able to bring 
 you to a proper way of thinking before many 
 days are over. If she cannot, well then, of 
 course, painful as it would be, we can always 
 fall back upon more drastic measures.” 
 
 At this moment MacCartney appeared upon 
 the scene. He carried a budget of papers 
 in his hand, the contents of which he was 
 anxious to discuss with Spielman. 
 
 “ Don Felix has arrived,” he said as he 
 approached him. “ He has come direct from 
 Villa Maya, and is as full of his own import- 
 ance as he can well be. He has carefully 
 sounded the regiment stationed there, and, 
 in proof of the miracle he has wrought with 
 them, he has brought a list of thirty-five 
 men who, he says, are prepared to come 
 
A Maker of Nations. 103 
 
 over to us as soon as the time is ripe. 
 Among other things he seems to have a 
 notion that the Government have at last 
 come to the conclusion that there is some- 
 thing in the wind, and they are using every 
 means in their power to find out where the 
 mischief lies. He also brings a letter from 
 Yarscow, who has managed to pass the arms 
 we sent him on to headquarters at Penasque. 
 He is anxious, so P41ix says, to know whether 
 he himself may move on to the port. There 
 are several matters which require immediate 
 attention there, and every day is making the 
 situation more difficult.” 
 
 “Let him go by all means,” answered 
 Spielman, “ only write to him on no account 
 to have very much to do with his old com- 
 panion Lazaro Garcia. I have distrusted 
 that man for some considerable time, and I 
 also know that he dislikes me. He’d do me 
 a mischief if he dared, but I think I may 
 safely promise him that as soon as we have 
 put matters on a definite basis I’ll find time 
 to give him his deserts. By the way, Mac- 
 Cartney, there is something else I want to 
 speak to you about. Let us walk to the 
 end of the verandah.” 
 
 They did so, and when they had reached 
 it Spielman paused for a moment and 
 
104 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 knocked the ash of his cigar oS on the 
 verandah rail. 
 
 “I wonder if it has ever struck you,” he 
 said, “that our old friend Dick Durrington 
 of late has not been quite the same as he 
 used to be ? ” He looked the other straight 
 in the face as he put the question. Mac- 
 Cartney, however, only shook his head. 
 
 “ I have not noticed it,” he answered. 
 “ Beyond grumbling morning, noon, and 
 night at the vileness of the Eepublic cigars, 
 he seems to me very much the same as 
 usual. What do you think is the matter 
 with him ? ” 
 
 “ That is exactly what I am trying to 
 make out,” replied Spielman meditatively. 
 “ He wanted to make me believe last night 
 that his nerve was giving way, and when 
 he had talked a lot of bosh he said he 
 would be glad if I would accept his resigna- 
 tion as soon as actual hostilities commence.” 
 
 “Accept his resignation?” cried Mac- 
 Cartney as if thunderstruck. “ You surely 
 don’t mean to tell me that Dick Durrington 
 has said that he wishes to resign? ” 
 
 “ I was as loth to believe it as you are,” 
 said Spielman. “ But that is exactly what he 
 told me, and the excuse he made was that 
 his nerve is giving way ! A pretty thing 
 
A Maker of Nations. 105 
 
 for the man who shot Hellfire Steve in 
 Saigon, and who went into Quong Pah’s 
 stronghold and captured the most desperate 
 outlaw in China, singlehanded, isn’t it ? If 
 anyone had told me a week ago that I 
 should have heard such a thing from Dick 
 Durrington, I would not have believed him.” 
 
 “ But what is the meaning of it all ? ” 
 MacCartney inquired with a puzzled look 
 upon his face, “ I can’t believe that he 
 meant it. He must have been Joking.” 
 
 “ That is exactly what I thought at first,” 
 Spielman answered, “but I soon found that 
 he was serious enough. For some reason of 
 his own he wants to clear out.” 
 
 “ But he mustn’t be allowed to do it,” 
 MacCartney replied with conviction. “We 
 cannot afford to lose him. He’s my right- 
 hand man.” 
 
 “ I know that,” Spielman answered. “ It’s 
 for that reason and for no other I’m sending 
 him on an errand to the capital.” 
 
 “To the capital? Good heavens, what is 
 he to do there? It’s the last place he 
 should go to.” 
 
 “Not for Dick. He is taking a letter to 
 Coralie Yanhoysen. If my memory does not 
 deceive me, there was something between 
 them once ? ” 
 
io6 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ That was ages ago,” MaoCartney replied. 
 “ They have probably forgotten all about it 
 by this time.” 
 
 Spielman remembered the look that had 
 come into Coralie’s face that evening in 
 Cairo when he had told her that Durrington 
 was to be concerned with her in the work 
 which had brought them to South America. 
 
 “ My dear MacCartney,” he said with a 
 little laugh, “ that shows how small your 
 knowledge is of your fellow creatures. If 
 you knew more about them you would be 
 aware that, while a man may forget such 
 episodes, a woman never does. That is 
 exactly why I am sending our friend 
 Richard to Coralie. If anyone can reclaim 
 him she will. At any rate, let us try the 
 experiment. By the way, it would be better 
 that he should not suspect either our inten- 
 tions or our hopes.” 
 
 “ You can trust me, I think,” said Mac- 
 Cartney. “ I sincerely hope it will be 
 successful, for I don’t want to lose Dick 
 any more than you do. It’s not just now, 
 but when we come to the actual fighting 
 that his assistance will be invaluable to us. 
 Now I’ll go and see where he is. He’s not 
 a gregarious animal at the best of times, and 
 at the present moment a little company may 
 
A Maker of Nations. 107 
 
 do Viim good. When there’s a crisis about 
 it does not do, so I’ve found, to leave a 
 man to himself too much.” 
 
 Handing the papers he had brought to 
 Spielman, he strolled off in search of his 
 friend. 
 
 “Dicky, my lad,” he said, when he found 
 him, seated on his bed pulling on his riding- 
 boots, “what’s this idea about your wanting 
 to leave us ? Surely it can’t he true ? 
 You’re not going to be idiot enough to think 
 you can play that game with me ? ” 
 
 “It’s quite true, old man,” said Dur- 
 rington calmly. “As things are just at 
 present I feel I’m not playing fair by you, 
 and so I’ve made up my mind to clear out.” 
 
 “But, my dear fellow, what on earth is 
 the reason of it all ? You used to be so 
 keen on this sort of thing once upon a time. 
 I remember in Cairo, as if it were only the 
 other day, that you said you were looking 
 forward with pleasure to the row we were 
 about to have here. Now you say that 
 you’ve changed your mind and want to 
 leave us. I don’t understand it. As for 
 the excuse you made to Spielman that your 
 nerves were giving way, why, that’s all non- 
 sense. It couldn’t possibly be true. You’re 
 not that sort of man.” 
 
io8 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 Though he spoke so confidently it was 
 noticeable that he looked at Durrington 
 almost imploringly. They had been friends 
 for so long a time that they could afford 
 to speak to each other face to face, and man 
 to man, without either being afraid that the 
 other would misunderstand. 
 
 “ True or not true,” said Durrington, 
 “ it’s a fact that I’ve made up my mind to 
 clear out. To tell the truth, old chap, I 
 don’t mind the fighting a bit ; what I do 
 object to is this hole-and-corner sort of 
 work, this plotting and spying ; to my think- 
 ing it’s every bit as bad as stabbing a man 
 in the back. When we did that business 
 out in the Philippines, and in Cuba, I 
 didn’t mind it in the least, for I knew it was 
 fair and square fighting against a tyran- 
 nous government. What is this ? Why is 
 Spielman doing it ? Because it is an in- 
 vestment that pays a dividend equal to a 
 thousand per cent. He knows as well as 
 we do that the people of this country don’t 
 want a revolution. Why should they ? 
 They’re peaceable, law-abiding folk, who 
 are happy enough as it is. The President 
 has been like a father to them, and, under 
 his rule, the country has prospered as no 
 other in South America has done. Then 
 
A Maker of Nations. 109 
 
 Spielman, who makes a business of these 
 sort of things, steps in, finds the money 
 and the men, and plots and plans until he 
 has plunged the country into war, which is 
 only another word for ruin. Then again, 
 look at the men we have associated with 
 us — Gronsalvez, Larralde, O’Donoghue, and 
 the rest of them ; a nice lot they are, to be 
 sure, any way you take them ; every one 
 playing for his own end, and Spielman 
 deceiving them all. No, old man, if you 
 want the truth, I’m sick of it, and I want 
 to be out of it. If it weren’t for you, I’d 
 clear out at once. I’ve promised Spielman, 
 however, to make no move until actual 
 hostilities commence.” 
 
 “ I’m glad of that, at any rate,” said 
 MacCartney. “ You’re too thin-skinned, 
 Dicky, my lad. I don’t see why you need 
 consider the feelings of the people who live 
 in this beastly hole. They’ve nothing at 
 all to do with you or your life. We’re here 
 for a set purpose, and, when that purpose 
 is achieved, shall clear out and never see 
 one of them again. Why, therefore, desert 
 your old friends just when they want you 
 most ? It’s nob rational ; it’s absurd. Enjoy 
 your life while you’ve got it, my boy, and 
 for heaven’s sake don’t talk nonsense.” 
 
no A Maker of Nations. 
 
 Durrington rose to his feet. There was 
 still the same look of determination upon 
 his face. 
 
 “ You may call it rot, nonsense, stupidity, 
 anything you please,” he said, “but the 
 fact remains that I’ve made up my mind. 
 Nothing you can say or do, Mac, will 
 shake me or alter my determination. Until 
 the twenty -third I’ll help you in any possible 
 way I can, that is to say bar spying, but 
 after that time I shall efface myself, and, 
 if you want to, you can forget me as soon 
 as you please. In the meantime I’m off 
 to Constancia to deliver a note to Coralie 
 Vanhoysen. Can I give her any message 
 from you ? ” 
 
 “ Give her my respectful salaams,” said 
 MacCartney, who was watching his friend’s 
 face ; then to himself he added, “ Spiel- 
 man’s wrong, quite wrong. If I know any- 
 thing about the human countenance, and I 
 ought to by this time, Coralie Vanhoysen 
 is no more to Dick Durrington now than 
 the man in the moon. Whatever may have 
 existed between them once is all over now; 
 at least, as far as Dick is concerned.” 
 
 By this time Durrington was equipped 
 and ready for the road. He had packed 
 his valise with such articles as he thought 
 
A Maker of Nations. in 
 
 he might require during his short stay at 
 the capital, while the letter, which was 
 the occasion of his errand, was safely 
 stowed away in the lining of his coat. 
 Making his way, accompanied by MacCartney, 
 to the corral at the back of the house, he 
 mounted his horse, and then bidding his 
 friend good-bye, set off down the track in 
 the direction of the capital, a hundred and 
 fifty miles distant. By nightfall, if all 
 went well, he would have completed a 
 distance of fifty miles, then he would camp 
 at a roadside inn, with which he was ac- 
 quainted, and continue his journey in the 
 morning. 
 
 Unfortunately his horse fell lame before 
 he had completed his thirty-fifth mile, and 
 for this reason it was quite dark before he 
 reached the little inn, of which I have 
 spoken, and at which he intended to spend 
 the night. It was a miserable little place 
 in every sense of the word, scarcely bigger 
 than a cottage, and furnished as only South 
 American houses of the same class can be. 
 Approaching the door Durrington dismounted, 
 and called to a to take his horse, at 
 
 the same time bidding him see that the 
 animal was well rubbed down and fed. 
 
 The landlord met him on the threshold. 
 
1 12 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 He was a surly fellow, with a hang-dog 
 face and a shifty look about his eyes. 
 Possibly the slackness of trade may have 
 exercised an untoward effect upon his amia- 
 bility. At any rate, his guest had not to 
 complain of an excess of politeness upon 
 his part. 
 
 Entering the house, Durrington discovered, 
 to his great disappointment, that he had 
 other companions. One, an elderly man 
 with a quaint, quizzical little face and a 
 quantity of grey hair, was seated at the 
 table busily engaged upon his evening meal. 
 Opposite him, with a glass of bad spirits 
 in his hand, was a man with whom Dur- 
 rington was slightly acquainted. He was a 
 member of their own party, and a small 
 landholder in the district. Unfortunately, 
 however, at the present time he was more 
 than three parts intoxicated. Prior to Dur- 
 rington’s entrance he had been laying down 
 the law upon some point. The older man, 
 however, had long since lost all interest in 
 what he was saying, and now continued 
 his meal as placidly as if the other had 
 not been in the room. Durrington gave his 
 orders to the landlord, and approached the 
 table, as he did so wishing those seated 
 there a polite good-evening. The elder man 
 
A Maker of Nations. 113 
 
 nodded, said something in an undertone, 
 and then returned to his meal. Not so the 
 other man. He recognised Durrington at 
 once, and staggered to his feet, bowing 
 with tipsy gravity as he did so. 
 
 “Ah, senor,” he cried, with a great show 
 of amiability, “ this is well met indeed ! I 
 have been endeavouring to explain to our 
 friend here the necessity that exists in 
 this country for reform. As one who has 
 studied the political question carefully, I 
 am in a position to say that, unless some- 
 thing is done to remedy the existing evil 
 — I say the existing evil — a country which 
 might have — which might have ” 
 
 By this tirr.G he had lost the thread of 
 his discourse. He accordingly stopped and 
 applied to the glass he held in his hand 
 for enlightenment. 
 
 Seeing the state of affairs, Durrington 
 began to wish that he had ridden on to the 
 next inn, twelve miles distant. He had no 
 desire to be drawn into an argument on a 
 revolutionary topic with a stranger in a 
 public caravanserai. To attempt to induce 
 the idiotic individual to hold his tongue 
 was only so much waste of time. He had 
 embarked on his harangue, and nothing 
 short of violence would stop him. Mean- 
 
 H 
 
1 14 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 while the stranger at the table stolidly 
 continued his meal, glancing up occasionally 
 at Durrington, but taking no more notice 
 of the other than if he had not been in 
 the room. 
 
 “ Come, senor,” babbled the drunkard, 
 “ you are a thinking man, and you under- 
 stand the — the — political situation. You can 
 see for yourself what is the only remedy 
 for the existing state of affairs. That remedy 
 is a complete change of government. A 
 change of government, I say. And if we 
 cannot do it ourselves, we must find others 
 who will help us. I know what I am 
 talking about. If I wanted to, I could 
 tell some pretty tales. For I know what’s 
 going on and what’s going to happen, if 
 other people don’t.” 
 
 At this moment the landlord brought in 
 Durrington’s supper, and he accordingly sat 
 down to it, leaving the other to babble to 
 the company. This he did, appealing to 
 Durrington at intervals for confirmation. 
 At last the latter could stand it no longer. 
 He accordingly rose and departed to the 
 miserable apartment in which he was to 
 spend the night. Had he looked into the 
 living-room a quarter of an hour later he 
 would have found the drunkard asleep. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 115 
 
 with his head on the table, and the quiet 
 man seated opposite him busily engaged 
 making notes in an enormous pocket-book. 
 He did not look in, however. And per- 
 haps it was as well that he did not. 
 
 Next morning he had breakfasted, paid 
 for his night’s lodging, saddled his horse, 
 and was on the road by the time the sun 
 was above the horizon. He was not the 
 only early bird, however, for within a 
 quarter of an hour of his leaving the house 
 the quiet man, the same who had made 
 the notes in his pocket-book the preceding 
 evening, had also saddled his horse and 
 ridden off in the same direction. Mean- 
 while the indiscreet gentleman lay fast 
 asleep, unconscious of the trouble his 
 foolish tongue had set rolling down the 
 hill of Fate. 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 T he City of Constancia is certainly one 
 of the most beautiful, if not the most 
 beautiful, of all the cities on the vast 
 extent of the Continent of South America. 
 Whoever was responsible for the original 
 selection could scarcely have made a better 
 choice. As a well-known traveller once 
 remarked, “ It seemed as if Dame Nature 
 had prepared the site on purpose that man 
 should build upon it.” 
 
 Situated at a considerable height, some 
 nineteen hundred feet or thereabouts, if my 
 memory serves me, above the sea level, it 
 stands in the centre of a fertile plain, which 
 again has at its back a lofty chain of moun- 
 tains, a continuation of that range whose 
 peaks looked down upon Spielman’s lonely 
 estancia, nearly one hundred and fifty miles 
 distant. The streets are broad and well 
 paved, and are moreover clean, showing 
 none of those signs of damp and decay so 
 often associated with the thoroughfares of 
 
 116 
 
A Maker of Nations. 117 
 
 South American cities. This is one of the 
 points that invariably strike the new-comer 
 favourably. Then there is — or perhaps I 
 should say was — one other which impressed 
 new arrivals; I refer to the absence of any 
 noticeable poverty among the inhabitants. 
 This, in part, was attributable to the fact 
 that as soon as work failed in the capital 
 the artisan did not remain there in the 
 hope of seeing it come back to him, but 
 migrated to the port, where there was never 
 any lack of employment. In a greater 
 degree, however, the credit lay with Presi- 
 dent Cavarro, under whose rule trade had 
 flourished to an unprecedented degree. 
 “Only those,” he would say, “need be idle 
 who have a distaste for labour ; an indus- 
 trious man can always find his opportunity, 
 and a skrimshanker must learn to work — 
 even if it is necessary to complete his educa- 
 tion in gaol.” It was by his continual 
 solicitude for their welfare that he earned 
 the title, “Father of his People.” The sun 
 was setting behind the snow-clad peaks 
 when Durrington entered the city, and 
 made his way to his hotel. This proved 
 to be a palatial abode, built of white stone, 
 and surmounted by a roof of terra-cotta 
 coloured tiles. The broad colonnade, one 
 
ii8 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 might almost say cloister, which surrounded 
 it on every side, gave it an air of coolness 
 which was very refreshing and restful after 
 the dazzling glare of the street outside. 
 Durrington having given up his horse in 
 the stable yard, entered and engaged a 
 room. Accustomed as he had been all his 
 life to hard work, the ride he had just com- 
 pleted produced httle or no effect upon him; 
 he enjoyed a cold bath, changed his attire, 
 and entered the dining saloon feeling almost 
 as fresh as when he had left the hacienda 
 the previous day. To his surprise he found 
 the hotel somewhat more crowded than he 
 had expected. He was sorry for this, for 
 several reasons. He was not in the humour 
 just then to enjoy the society of his fellow 
 men. Knowing as he did what lay before 
 the devoted city and its inhabitants, he could 
 not help feeling that he was playing the 
 part of a traitor. Everyone was so happy, 
 so peaceable, under the rule of their dear 
 President, that it seemed impossible to 
 believe that in a fortnight, or even less, 
 they might be plunged into all the horrors 
 and agonies of civil war. Argue as he 
 would with himself, there seemed no way 
 out of it. If he were not true to Spielman 
 and MacCartnoy, he must, by all the rules 
 
A Maker of Nations. 119 
 
 of contrary, be a traitor to them; if, on the 
 other hand, he carried a message to Coralie, 
 who was enjoying the hospitality of the 
 President under false pretences, he was 
 equally a traitor to Martinez, who was re- 
 sponsible for his introduction, and false also 
 to the woman he loved. To a highly sen- 
 sitive man the situation would have been 
 unendurable. Durrington, however, partly 
 by reason of the life he had led, and partly 
 through a certain lingering belief in the 
 innate honesty of his own actions, was more 
 hardened. 
 
 Dinner at an end, he lit a cigar and 
 went for a stroll. He was anxious to dis- 
 cover the direction of the palace as soon as 
 possible. It proved to be a large and hand- 
 some building, standing in fine grounds of 
 at least a dozen acres, and overlooked a 
 public square. A high iron fence enclosed 
 it, and two beautifully wrought gates con- 
 stituted the main entrance. Before these 
 gates stood a sentry, whose principal occu- 
 pation seemed to consist in answering the 
 salutations of the passers-by. Durrington 
 seated himself on a bench in the square 
 and fell to watching the lighted windows 
 of the great house opposite. It was a 
 night on which the most prosaic might 
 
120 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 have been excused had he felt romantic, 
 for the stars shone brilliantly out of a 
 cloudless sky, and the air was heavy with 
 the scent of perfumed shrubs. 
 
 As I have said, Durrington sat and 
 watched the house, and as he did so he 
 thought of the strange places he had visited 
 in the course of his life, and of the still 
 stranger events that had befallen him in 
 each. His career had been eventful beyond 
 the ordinary. Fatherless and motherless at 
 fifteen, he had been thrown upon the world 
 with a public school education, and a con- 
 siderable belief in his own abilities to sink 
 or swim. He came of a good Northern 
 family, and possessed many relations who 
 would have been glad to help the hand- 
 some lad had he not been so independent. 
 Independent, however, he was, and inde- 
 pendent he was likely to remain. Having 
 only one hundred and eight pounds to his 
 name when his father’s debts were paid, 
 he took counsel with himself, and as the 
 result of such conference made his way 
 to Liverpool, paid a heavy premium to a 
 firm of shipowners, and sailed as an appren- 
 tice aboard a clipper ship bound for South 
 America. For nearly two years he earned 
 his bread upon the waters, and then, tiring 
 
A Maker of Nations. 12 1 
 
 of the sea, returned to London to seek it 
 in another direction. It was charaoteristio 
 of the lad that, despite the fact that he 
 had seen something of the hard side of life, 
 he should still have preserved his love of 
 independence. Nothing would induce him 
 to accept assistance from such members of 
 his family as had not been rebuffed by his 
 first refusal. He fought his own battle 
 with poverty, and was eventually compelled 
 to own himself worsted in the struggle. 
 Of his life in London at that time little 
 is known ; it could scarcely have been 
 pleasant, for the reason that he never re- 
 ferred to it. One thing, however, is quite 
 certain, his endurance had its limits, and 
 one sultry morning in August he found 
 himself standing in the courtyard of St. 
 George’s Barracks, a soldier of the Queen. 
 Two years later he was a sergeant, and in 
 Burmah. In five years he had been given 
 his commission. His career might now be 
 said to have properly commenced. It was, 
 nevertheless, destined to receive a sudden 
 and disastrous check. Eight years from the 
 day upon which he had accepted the shilling 
 and pledged himself to be a faithful and 
 true servant of Her Majesty, he sat on a 
 seat in the public gardens at the end of 
 
122 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 the Bund in Shanghai, a ruined, and as 
 far as the English Army went, a disgraced 
 man. For the reason that he had declined 
 to call evidence, or to offer any sort of 
 defence, it would seem that the true facts 
 of the case had not come to light, but the 
 decision of the Court Martial was sufficient 
 to deprive him of his right to wear the 
 Queen’s uniform, and to put him beyond 
 the pale of military society for ever and a 
 day. There are those even now who believe 
 in his innocence, and who say that so good 
 a soldier and so brave a man would never 
 have been guilty of the act imputed to him, 
 but it must be confessed that such people 
 are few and far between. One thing is 
 quite certain; on the day that he sat on 
 the bench in the Shanghai Gardens, looking 
 at the muddy waters of the Hwang-pu, he 
 was as nearly broken as a man could well 
 be. The story of his resurrection, how- 
 ever, would take too long for me to venture 
 upon in detail here. Let me briefly sketch 
 it by saying that just when Despair was 
 setting her icy finger on his heart he was 
 rescued by a man, who was destined soon 
 to become his most intimate and, at that 
 time, his only friend on earth. This man 
 was none other than MacCartney, who, like 
 
A Maker of Nations. 123 
 
 himself, had been at one time a soldier, 
 and who, still more like himself, had also 
 been disgraced. Fate had brought him to 
 Shanghai, and it had also brought him to 
 the Bund that morning. For some reason 
 or another he liked the look of the other’s 
 face, and, seeing that he was in trouble of 
 some sort, went up and spoke to him. 
 
 “You seem down on your luck,” he said, 
 by way of commencement. 
 
 “ Down on my luck ? ” said Durrington 
 scornfully, but without looking round to 
 see who spoke to him. “ It doesn’t seem 
 to me that I’ve got enough luck left to be 
 down upon. There couldn’t have been very 
 much in the first place, but what there was 
 I used up precious soon.” 
 
 MacOartney looked him well over and 
 satisfied himself upon certain points before 
 he spoke again. 
 
 “You’re an army man, I can tell,” he 
 said. “ You’ve seen some service, too — 
 Burmah ? Chivvying Dacoits isn’t all beer 
 and skittles, is it ? ” 
 
 “ You’ve tried it ? ” said Durrington, look- 
 ing up for the first time into his interlocutor’s 
 face. 
 
 “I should think I had,” replied Mac- 
 Cartney, and then suddenly checked himself. 
 
124 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ That’s got nothing to do with the present, 
 however. The question is, what are you 
 going to do now ? ” 
 
 “ That’s just what I’ve been asking my- 
 self,” answered Durrington. “ I have tried 
 everywhere, but nothing seems to offer in 
 this hole. I suppose you couldn’t put me 
 in the way of employment?” 
 
 “It’s just possible,” MacCartney replied. 
 “ To tell the truth, I am looking for a man 
 myself.” 
 
 “ The deuce you are. And what for ? ” 
 
 “ To assist in a delicate little bit of 
 business in Cochin China,” said MacCartney. 
 “ He must be a good plucked ’un, and it is 
 imperative that he shall have seen some 
 service. I think you would suit me admir- 
 ably. You wouldn’t mind, I suppose ? ” 
 
 “Does a starving man mind being fed?” 
 asked Durrington by way of an answer. 
 “ Try me, that’s all. You’ll find me eternally 
 grateful.” 
 
 “I think I will give you a trial,” Mac- 
 Cartney answered slowly and deliberately, 
 as if he were arguing it out with himself. 
 “But, before I can settle anything, I must 
 have a talk with somebody else. Look here. 
 I’ll meet you here at six o’clock, and give 
 you a definite answer then.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 125 
 
 “I’ll be here,” said Durrington, and then 
 he watched the other leave the Gardens, get 
 into a rickshaw, and drive away. He has 
 been known to say, since, that those hours 
 of waiting were the most trying in his ex- 
 perience. One moment he was buoyed up 
 with hope; the next he was oast down to 
 the uttermost depths by despair. Would the 
 business, whatever it was, be worth having? 
 Would he be able to keep it if he got it? 
 And, worse than all, was it possible that his 
 late companion had been deceiving him all 
 the time, and that he had no such appoint- 
 ment to offer ? He asked himself these 
 questions a hundred times, and suffered un- 
 imaginable torture every time he tried to 
 answer them. When the actual pinch of 
 hunger grips one, it is wonderful how humble 
 a man can be. It is possible that Durrington 
 had never in his life thought so poorly of 
 himself as he did just then. He need not 
 have worried, however, for, punctual almost 
 to the minute, MacCartney put in an ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 “It’s aU right,” he said. “I’ve got it 
 for you. Wages twelve dollars a week and 
 your expenses, and if you are ready we 
 will leave in a Saigon steamer to-morrow 
 morning.” 
 
126 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ I’m ready to be o£E this moment,” said 
 Dnrrington, feeling as if he would he glad 
 to sit down and cry like an over-wrought 
 school-girl. “ By Jove, I’m awfully grateful 
 to you. I don’t know how to thank you 
 for the chance you’ve given me. I believe 
 that if to-morrow had found me still un- 
 employed, I should have pitched myself into 
 the Hwang-pu yonder.” 
 
 “ Skittles,” replied the tall, grave-faced 
 man beside him, who talked like a school- 
 boy and looked like a major-general. 
 
 “ Skittles it would have been, and of the 
 most desperate description,” said Durrington 
 gravely. “ I can tell you I was just about 
 played out. I haven’t eaten anything since 
 yesterday morning.” 
 
 “ Good Heavens ! ” cried the other ; “ why 
 on earth didn’t you tell me that before ? 
 No, no, not another word. Come along with 
 me at once.” 
 
 He took him away and fed him there and 
 then, and next morning at daylight the two 
 men embarked upon an expedition, the very 
 thought of which would have been sufficient 
 to deter even the most reckless British sub- 
 altern. Unaided, they were to knock an 
 army of savages into something like military 
 shape, and to fight and win battles with 
 
A Maker of Nations. 127 
 
 them of which no European general need 
 have been ashamed. Their position was 
 to be often desperate and always dangerous, 
 but it would have one good side ; during 
 that time they would come to know each 
 other as few men have the luck to do. 
 From Saigon they proceeded to South Africa, 
 thence to Algiers, then, after an interval, 
 in which certain wonderful things happened 
 and many even more wonderful failed, to 
 the Balkan States, and later on to Mada- 
 gascar, to Mexico and Cuba. Often they 
 had quarrelled, on more occasions than could 
 be described women came between them and 
 did their best to separate them, but so far 
 they had been unsuccessful. Spielman, the 
 conspirator, the Maker of Nations, the man 
 whose sole amusement was the promotion 
 of revolutions and wars, was the only per- 
 son who had in any measure been their 
 master. To him they rendered loyal and 
 obedient service, and in return he worked 
 them beyond the capacity of ordinary men. 
 Now, for the first time in their united 
 careers, there was the probability of a separa- 
 tion. Now, for the sake of a girl who had 
 probably never given him a second thought 
 since they parted, Durrington was about to 
 sacrifice the man he loved the best on earth. 
 
128 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 and to throw himself once more upon the 
 mercy of the world he had such good reason 
 to dread. 
 
 As he watched the windows of the house, 
 he thought of Coralie. He remembered their 
 first meeting, and he also recalled the fact 
 that he had once been convinced in his 
 own mind that she was the one desirable 
 woman of the world. How strange that 
 seemed now ! Had he been told in those 
 days that a time would come when she 
 would be nothing to him, he would have 
 laughed the insinuation to scorn. But, then, 
 Coralie was not Nita Cavarro. He spoke 
 the name softly to himself, as if the very 
 sound of it were music to his ears. 
 
 It was growing late by this time ; so, 
 rising to his feet, he prepared to stroll 
 homewards. He had not proceeded many 
 paces, however, before he heard his name 
 softly spoken. He stopped, surprised, not 
 knowing who could have recognised him in 
 such a place. It was spoken again, and 
 he immediately recognised the voice. The 
 speaker was Coralie Vanhoysen, and she was 
 standing among the bushes within a few 
 feet of the railings. 
 
 “ Dick,” she said, speaking in a low voice 
 in order that the sentry at the main gate 
 
A Maker of Nations. 129 
 
 should not hear her ; “ come here, I want 
 to talk to you ! ” 
 
 “ Coralie,” he answered — “ is it really 
 you? I did not expect to see you to-night. 
 How did you know that I was here ? ” 
 
 She had drawn closer to the rails by this 
 time, and was able to speak to him in a 
 whisper. 
 
 “ I saw your face by the light of the 
 match when you lit your cigar,” she replied. 
 “ I was walking in the garden with the 
 President’s daughter.” 
 
 Dick gave a little start. While he had 
 been thinking of Nita, and wondering what 
 she was doing, she had been close to him. 
 
 “ When we went into the house,” Coralie 
 continued, “ I made an excuse and retired 
 to my room, slipped out by the window, 
 and hastened here to you. Come further 
 along the fence. I have the key of a little 
 gate, and will let you in. We can talk 
 then without fear of being overheard.” 
 
 Durrington did as he was ordered, and 
 followed her along the fence until they 
 reached a small iron gate, which she un- 
 locked. It was very dark at this point, 
 and, even had anyone been there to see, 
 he or she would have found it a difficult 
 matter to recognise them. 
 
 I 
 
130 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 Feeling very like a thief, Durrington 
 entered, and the gate was shut and locked 
 behind him. Coralie placed her hand upon 
 his arm and led him along the path until 
 they reached a seat. She then sat down, 
 and bade him follow her example. 
 
 “ Now we can talk,” she began. “ Tell 
 me first how long you have been in Con- 
 stancia, and what it is that has brought 
 you here ? ” 
 
 “ I only arrived this evening,” Durrington 
 replied. “ Spielman sent me with a letter 
 to you. I was to deliver it to you per- 
 sonally, and am to take him an answer in 
 a week’s time.” 
 
 He took the letter from his pocket and 
 handed it to her, heartily glad to be rid 
 of it. 
 
 She slipped it into her pocket with what 
 sounded like a little sigh. 
 
 “ I wonder what it can be about ? ” she 
 said, “ It’s not like Spielman to write 
 letters. You cannot induce him to believe 
 that he is not the only person who makes 
 a habit of destroying them.” 
 
 She wanted to gain time to think. Had 
 it been daylight and Durrington had been 
 able to see her face, he would have found 
 it deadly pale. He, also, was more agitated 
 
A Maker of Nations. 13 1 
 
 than he expected to be. Old Father Time 
 may be able to assuage pain, but it is be- 
 yond even his power to ensure forgetfulness. 
 
 “And how are things prospering at head- 
 quarters ? ” she queried at last. “ You must 
 remember that I know nothing of what is 
 going on.” 
 
 “ Spielman’s preparations are well nigh 
 complete,” Durrington replied. “ He hopes 
 to be in a position to declare war in about 
 a fortnight. Of late he has been keeping 
 us hard at it. Do you think the other side 
 have any suspicion as to who is at the back 
 of it ? ” 
 
 Coralie was silent before she replied. 
 
 “ I do not think so,” she said at last. 
 “ At least, I feel certain they do not sus- 
 pect Spielman, or you, or MacCartney ; but, 
 from little things that have been said in my 
 hearing, I fancy that they have a knowledge 
 that O’Donoghue and one or two others 
 are mixed up in it. By the way, your 
 friend Martinez was here yesterday. He 
 spoke of you, and asked me if I had any 
 idea what you had been doing since you 
 left the port. He knows you have been a 
 soldier in the past, and I’ve an idea he 
 would like to appoint you to the com- 
 mand of one of his own regiments. It 
 
132 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 rather amused me — though, of course, I was 
 careful not to let him see it.” 
 
 Durrington winced. Had it not been for 
 this hateful Kevolution, there would have 
 been nothing he would have liked better. 
 But now that, and everything else, was 
 impossible. It was not outside the hounds 
 of possibility, he argued, that the very 
 regiment he might, under happier circum- 
 stances, have been appointed to command 
 would now have the proud distinction of 
 placing him with his back against a wall, 
 and shooting him when they got him there. 
 
 Coralie must have understood what was 
 passing in his mind, for she hastened to 
 change the subject — ^passing, without being 
 aware of it, from bad to worse. 
 
 “ You may be interested to learn,” she 
 said, “ that in the palace yonder you are 
 regarded as a hero. To-morrow morning 
 you must come up and be presented to 
 the President. He has often expressed a 
 desire to meet you, in order that he might 
 have an opportunity of thanking you for 
 saving the life of his pet general. He is 
 a dear old man, and I am sure you will 
 like him.” 
 
 “Like him?” cried Durrington with all 
 the scorn of which he was capable. “ Do 
 
A Maker of Nations. 133 
 
 you think I should be able to like him? 
 Do you think I shall like the man I shall 
 meet with a false smile upon my face — 
 like the man whose kindly rule, whose 
 love and thoughtfulness for others have 
 made this country what it is, and which 
 I and my friends are going to plunge into 
 the blackest ruin ? Good heavens, Coralie, 
 you must have strange notions if you think 
 that ! ” 
 
 He spoke with such sudden and desperate 
 bitterness that she was startled beyond 
 measure. She could make nothing of iL A 
 moment later he had risen to his feet, and 
 was tramping up and down the path before 
 her, almost beside himself with hatred and 
 loathing of the part he was playing. 
 
 Coralie left her seat and approached him. 
 
 “ Dick,” she said soothingly, “you mustn’t 
 talk like that. It will never do. For your 
 own sake you must not say such things. 
 Why should you despise yourself for what 
 you are doing? You don’t think any the 
 worse of British officers who go into foreign 
 countries before a war begins, in order to 
 get an idea of the localities and to know 
 something of what their future work will 
 be.” 
 
 “The two cases do not resemble each 
 
134 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 other,” Durrington replied. “ A British 
 of&cer — God help me ! — does not go into a 
 country, and, while accepting the hospitality 
 of the ruler, make his plans for stabbing 
 him in the back, as we are doing. You 
 don’t see it as I do. Nor does Spielman. 
 That’s the worst part of it.” 
 
 “ Why should I not see it as you do ? ” 
 Coralie replied. “Do you think I have 
 lost all notion of honour ? You wrong me, 
 Dick, indeed you do ! I thought you were 
 a better friend than that.” 
 
 “ Forgive me, Coralie,” he said, after a 
 little pause. “ I know I ought not to have 
 said what I did. This business has cut 
 me up terribly. It has made me quite a 
 different man. I don’t seem to look at 
 things in at all the same light as I 
 once did.” 
 
 “ But what is the reason of it all ? ” 
 she inquired. “WFen we were in Egypt 
 the other day, you seemed to be looking 
 forward to it with such eagerness. What 
 has made you suddenly see that it is so 
 desperately underhand and cruel?” 
 
 Durrington dared not tell her the truth. 
 He had still sufficient caution left to keep 
 the secret of his love for Nita Cavarro. 
 
 “ Because I have only lately come to see 
 
A Maker of Nations. 135 
 
 it in its proper light,” he said, abruptly. 
 “Now I know myself for what I am, and 
 the work for what it is. But I must go. 
 If you should by any chance be found out 
 of the house at this time of night, it 
 might place you in an extremely awkward 
 position.” 
 
 “What would my position be if they 
 discovered the real reason of my presence 
 in the Palace ? ” she asked more bitterly 
 than she had yet spoken. “ I would leave 
 you to imagine how the President would 
 treat me then, and how his daughter, 
 with her big, serious eyes, would behave 
 towards me.” 
 
 “ God help you, Coralie,” he said. “ It’s 
 a bad business right through, and the 
 sooner we’re both out of it the better. 
 I’m thankful now that I’ve handed Spiel- 
 man my resignation.” 
 
 “ Your what ? ” she cried, in utter 
 amazement. “ Dick, you don’t mean to 
 say that you are going to give it all up.” 
 
 “I’ve done more than saying it,” he 
 answered triumphantly. “ It’s all settled, 
 and I’m to go on helping them with just the 
 ordinary work for the present ; but, as soon 
 as the fighting commences, I’m to sever 
 my connection with the whole business for 
 
136 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 good and all. Now, good-night, Coralie. 
 You had better read that letter as soon 
 as you get into the house, and you can 
 let me know, when next we meet, how 
 soon you will be able to let me have the 
 answer I am to take back to Spielman.” 
 
 “ But when shall I see you again ? ” 
 she asked. “If you won’t come to the 
 Palace, where can we meet ? ” 
 
 “ You can write to my hotel,” he 
 answered. “I am staying at the Cordova 
 in the Plaza Constitucion. If you tell me 
 where I am to meet you, I will make 
 my arrangements accordingly. Be careful, 
 however, not to put your name in the 
 letter, or to say anything that may give rise 
 to suspicion should it fall into other hands.” 
 
 “ Very well,” she answered, still in the 
 same constrained voice. “ Now I will let 
 you out. It must be nearly eleven o’clock.” 
 
 They made their way to the gate by 
 which he had entered, and she unlocked 
 it. Having done so, they stood for a 
 moment facing each other. 
 
 “Are you really in earnest, Dick?” 
 she said. “Do you mean what you say 
 about giving us up ? ” 
 
 “ Quite in earnest,” he replied. “ Good- 
 night, Coralie.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 137 
 
 “ Good-night, Dick,” she answered ; and, 
 having looked the gate again, she went up 
 the path without another word. It was 
 not until she was safe in her own room 
 once more that her composure returned 
 to her. Then she sat down and en- 
 deavoured to argue the question out dis- 
 passionately. What had induced Dick to 
 come to this extraordinary decision ? She 
 thought she knew him as thoroughly as 
 any man or woman could do, and yet she 
 had never met this trait in his charac- 
 ter before. There was something behind 
 it all — something that required to be 
 explained. Suddenly she sat upright in 
 her chair, with a silver - backed brush in 
 one hand and a wealth of golden hair 
 in the other. Enlightenment^ had come 
 to her. 
 
 “ Ah ! ” she said to herself ; “ I see one 
 thing at any rate. Dick has rebelled, and 
 Spielman has sent him to me in order 
 that I may reclaim him. That is the 
 meaning of the letter. I wonder if I am 
 right ? ” 
 
 She picked up the note, which she had 
 placed in a prominent place upon the dressing 
 table, and tore open the envelope. It ran 
 as follows : 
 
138 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ My Dbab Coralie, — I send you this little 
 note by the hand of our dear friend Dur- 
 rington, who, I regret to say, stands in need 
 of a holiday. This, for several reasons, I 
 feel sure, will be better spent in the City 
 of Constancia than elsewhere. In that place 
 alone dwells the Physician who can minister 
 to his malady. You, dear Coralie, are that 
 distinguished person, and when I tell you 
 that Eiohard has declared his intention of 
 severing his connection with us, you will 
 understand the course of treatment necessary 
 to his case. I hope when you return him 
 to us, a week hence, that we shall find you 
 have been entirely successful. With my 
 salutations, 
 
 “I remain, your friend, 
 
 “J. S.” 
 
 Having finished the brushing of her hair, 
 she rose and held the letter in the flame of 
 the gas until it was utterly consumed. As 
 the ashes floated down to the floor like the 
 remains of a burnt-out passion, she gave a 
 little sigh, though she could not have said 
 for what. 
 
 After he had bidden Coralie good-night, 
 Durrington had returned to his hotel. Once 
 in his own room, he threw up the window. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 139 
 
 and leant out to watch the stars and to 
 think of all that had happened that even- 
 ing. Like the inhabitants of many Eastern 
 nations, he entertained a great superstition 
 for the heavenly bodies. He thought of the 
 beautiful Spanish girl who had come to 
 play such a prominent part in his life, of 
 Coralie, and then passed from both to the 
 gentle, loving mother he could just remem- 
 ber. What would she have thought could 
 she have known the depths to which he 
 would some day fall? There were tears in 
 his eyes when he closed the shutters of his 
 window — not tears of shame, but of sorrow 
 for what he was and also for what he might 
 once have been. There were not wanting 
 in the world people who would have affirmed 
 that Dick Durrington was made of such 
 stem stuff that no tear could possibly dim 
 his eye. Perhaps they were in a measure 
 right ; but there are times in aU our lives 
 when even the hardest is somewhat less 
 hard than usual. 
 
 By the time he fell asleep he had arrived 
 at a thorough understanding with himself. 
 He would adhere to the agreement he had 
 made with Spielman, and he would help 
 him until hostihties commenced. More than 
 that, he had made up his mind to dismiss 
 
140 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 Mademoiselle Gavarro from his thoughts. 
 He would not call at the Palace ; he would 
 not attempt to see her again. Only in that 
 way could he show how pure and unselfish 
 his love was. But — but — and this was the 
 most cruel stab of all — ^in that case she would 
 never know that he loved her, and she would 
 also never know of his sacrifice. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 T he Israelitish Poet-King must have 
 realised how dependent the happiness 
 of our human life is upon atmospheric 
 conditions when he wrote that “ Weeping 
 may endure for a night, but joy cometh in 
 the morning.” It was so with Durrington, 
 for when he woke next morning and looked 
 out of his window he discovered a glorious 
 sight. The sky was blue, with here and there 
 a white cloud hovering above the distant 
 peaks as if to add to the beauty of the 
 picture; a fresh breeze blew from the moun- 
 tains, and from the way in which the 
 passers-by clung to their hats, and gave 
 laughing salutations to each other as they 
 hurried along, he settled it in his own mind 
 that it was a day when it was well to be alive. 
 From his window he could catch a glimpse, 
 over the red-tiled roofs, of the great flag of 
 Constancia waving above the roof of the 
 President’s Palace. He stood and watched 
 it, deriving an altogether novel pleasure from 
 its picturesque vitality. 
 
 141 
 
142 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 After he had breakfasted, he took his hat 
 and set off for a stroll, choosing a direction 
 exactly opposite to that which he had taken 
 on the preceding evening. The keen air, the 
 picturesqueness of the streets, and the sense 
 of freedom must have possessed some magical 
 effect, for he felt happier than he had done 
 for many days past. 
 
 Presently he left the city behind him, and 
 found himself in the open country. The 
 plain at the foot of the mountains was 
 extremely fertile, and, as a natural conse- 
 quence, every acre was under cultivation. 
 Villages and farm homesteads were con- 
 tinually to be met with, labourers were busy 
 in the fields, and prosperity smiled at him 
 on every hand. 
 
 At last, having covered upwards of five 
 miles, he began to think it would be as well 
 if he retraced his steps. When he arrived 
 at this decision he was standing in the main 
 street of a quaint little village, watching a 
 group of nigger boys who were engaged upon 
 some game in the dust. They made a by no 
 means unpleasing picture as they laughed 
 and gesticulated at each other, and were so 
 absorbed in their play that they had no 
 thought to spare for Durrington or for any- 
 thing else. Seeing this, he took a small 
 
A Maker of Nations. 143 
 
 copper piece from his pocket, and dexterously 
 tossed it into the air so that it might fall 
 inside the circle between their feet. Had it 
 been a shower of gold it could scarcely have 
 caused greater surprise. For a moment they 
 sat stationary, as if afraid to move lest this 
 beautiful and wonderful object should vanish, 
 and be no more seen by them. Then the 
 spell broke ; there was a sudden ducking of 
 heads, followed by a wild scramble and a 
 magnificent exhibition of black legs and arms, 
 curly heads, and struggling bodies. Durring- 
 ton was laughing at the change his money 
 had wrought, and was about to repeat the 
 experiment when he happened to glance down 
 the street. A horse was galloping towards 
 him, and on the horse was a young lady who 
 was leaning back in the saddle, pulling on her 
 reins with might and main. On the soft dust, 
 the animal, travelling at such a pace, had 
 been able to approach within fifty feet un- 
 observed by the boys, who were absorbed in 
 their struggle, and by Durrington, who was 
 busy watching them. One thing was certain, 
 the rider was having her work cut out for her. 
 In point of fact, it was not until she had 
 reached the exact spot on which, a moment 
 before, the boys had been pla3dng, that she 
 was able to bring the excited animal to a 
 
144 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 standstill. Durrington, who had made a rush 
 forward, picked up the smallest youngster and 
 carried him out of harm’s way, otherwise 
 he could scarcely have failed to be killed. 
 Giving the urchin a shaking, but still holding 
 him in his hand by the slack of his nether 
 garment, he turned to look at the lady. 
 To his amazement she was none other than 
 Mademoiselle Cavarro, the daughter of the 
 President, and the very person he had pro- 
 mised himself on the previous evening he 
 would never see again. The discovery, for 
 the moment, deprived him of speech. 
 
 “ Mr. Durrington,” she cried in surprise, 
 as her handsome horse backed and sidled as 
 if impatient to continue his career, “ is it 
 really you? How narrowly I escaped knock- 
 ing you down I ” 
 
 “ The youngster had a greater escape,” he 
 answered, trying to speak calmly. “ I began 
 to think it was all over with him. Your horse 
 was a little out of hand, was he not ? ” 
 
 “ I’m afraid he was. Just a little,” she 
 answered, stroking the animal’s neck with 
 her whip as she spoke, “ He doesn’t get 
 enough work, and in consequence when he 
 does go out he becomes a little too excited. 
 But, Mr. Durrington, how long have you 
 been in this neighbourhood, and why have 
 
" He turned to look at the lady.” 
 
 A Maker of Nations'] 
 
 [Page 144 
 
A Maker of Nations. 145 
 
 you not been to see us ? Tour old friend 
 Madame Vanhoysen is with us; surely you 
 would like to meet her ? ” 
 
 “ I only arrived last night,” Durrington 
 replied in a limp fashion, at the same time 
 dropping the little nigger, who immediately 
 bolted for home like a frightened rabbit. “ I 
 have not had much time to go anywhere yet.” 
 
 “ Well, when will you come ? ” the girl 
 continued, quite unconscious of the trouble 
 she was raising. “Let us arrange a time, 
 and then there can be no mistake. Papa 
 will be so pleased to see you. He has heard 
 so much about you from General Martinez.” 
 
 Durrington’ 8 heart was beating like a 
 sledge-hammer. Surely St. Anthony in all 
 his trials was never tempted like he was 
 being tempted then. 
 
 “ I hope General Martinez and his family 
 are quite well ? ” he said, with a feeble 
 attempt to stave off the fatal moment. 
 
 “ Quite well,” mademoiselle replied. “ I had 
 a letter from one of the girls this morning. 
 In it, by the way, she said that they wondered 
 why they had never heard from you since 
 you left the port. You should not forget 
 your friends, Mr. Durrington.” 
 
 “ I’m afraid I must seem very ungrateful,” 
 he answered. “ But I have been moving 
 
146 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 about and ” He stopped, not knowing 
 
 quite how to continue. 
 
 “ Well, never mind,” she said. “ We’ll 
 not scold you, provided you come to see us. 
 By the way, we have not arranged the time 
 yet. Perhaps you will dine with us this 
 evening at eight o’clock ? Would not that 
 be the better plan? I will tell my father 
 to write you a formal invitation this after- 
 noon, if you think it necessary.” 
 
 “ Please do not trouble,” said Durrington. 
 “I am very much afraid that it will be im- 
 possible for me to have the pleasure — I 
 have some important business that must be 
 attended to.” 
 
 Mademoiselle looked down at him with 
 reproving eyes. 
 
 “ Mr. Durrington,” she said sternly, “ you 
 know as well as I do that you are not 
 telling the truth. You know that you just 
 say that because you think that we are only 
 asking you on account of your friendship 
 with Madame Vanhoysen. But it will not 
 avail you, sir. Coralie’s friends are our 
 friends, and besides, it is only fit and proper 
 that you should dine with the President, 
 seeing that you have saved the lives of two 
 of his fellow-countrymen.” 
 
 “ Two of his fellow-countrymen ? ” asked 
 
A Maker of Nations. 147 
 
 Durrington, with an expression of surprise 
 upon his face. “ General Martinez is one. 
 Who then is the other?” 
 
 “ That little nigger boy who ran away 
 just now,” she answered with a laugh. 
 “ We shall expect you at eight o’clock then. 
 For the present, au r avoir.” 
 
 Before he could say anything further her 
 horse had given a plunge in the air that 
 sent the dust flying, and a moment later 
 was half way down the street. Durrington 
 had to confess himself beaten. Blind Fate 
 had taken over the guidance of affairs, and 
 nothing remained for him but to allow him- 
 self to be washed along by the current in 
 whatever direction it might be pleased to 
 take him. 
 
 For the next five minutes Durrington was 
 scarcely conscious whether he stood on his 
 head or his heels. He looked out on his 
 world in a strange bewilderment. Like the 
 bird that is fascinated by the snake, he 
 had been hypnotised by a pair of sparkling 
 eyes, and was not master of his actions. 
 How did the matter stand with him ? He 
 had promised that on no consideration would 
 he go near the palace, and that he would 
 never see Nita Cavarro again. Now, here 
 he was, meeting her in a totally unexpected 
 
148 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 quarter, and accepting an invitation to 
 dinner at her hands ! But no, that was 
 scarcely fair to himself, for he had not 
 accepted it, he had declined it, and it 
 had been forced upon him. She had 
 not given him time to protest, so that 
 if he went it would be under com- 
 pulsion, not of his own free will. Having 
 effected this compromise with his conscience, 
 he set off on his homeward walk. Punctual 
 to the moment that evening he made his 
 appearance at the Presidential Palace. He 
 was received on the threshold by Manuel 
 Ferrara, the President’s secretary, a white- 
 haired old man, who had followed his master’s 
 fortunes with unswerving loyalty from the 
 day when he had first come to the front in 
 public affairs. Thus escorted, he made his 
 way to the drawing-room where the President 
 himself was waiting to receive him. 
 
 Though he was, of course, familiar with 
 his features, having seen innumerable por- 
 traits of him in shop windows and in the 
 Martinez household, this was the first time 
 Burrington had actually come face to face 
 with the President himself. He had heard 
 so much about him that he was prepared 
 to be a little disappointed with the actual 
 man. He found, however, that he was not. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 149 
 
 “ Welcome, Mr. Durrington,” said the 
 latter in English, a language which he spoke 
 with remarkable purity, at the same time 
 holding out his hand. “ It gives me great 
 pleasure to offer you a welcome to Con- 
 stancia, and to have the opportunity of 
 thanking you, in the name of the Kepublio, 
 for the signal service you rendered it some 
 weeks ago. General Martinez is a man his 
 country could ill spare, and in saving his 
 life you have laid us under a deep debt 
 of gratitude.” 
 
 “ It is very kind of you to say so, sir,” 
 Durrington replied, “ but I have already been 
 thanked too much. It was not such a very 
 dangerous thing to do, after all. General 
 Martinez would in all probability have been 
 able to cope with the man himself.” 
 
 The fact still remains that you saved the 
 General’s life,” said the President. 
 
 “ And the life of another citizen also,” said 
 his daughter, who had entered the room 
 unnoticed. “ This morning Mr. Durrington 
 added to his reputation by rescuing a coming 
 patriot from a position of considerable danger.” 
 
 “ Indeed, I have not heard of this,” replied 
 the President gravely. “ Pray tell me about 
 it, Nita.” 
 
 Thereupon his daughter, slipping her arm 
 
150 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 through his, told him of her meeting with 
 Durrington that morning, and of the youthful 
 Ethiopian’s fortunate escape. 
 
 “I’m afraid my darling is very reckless,” 
 said the President, stroking her hand as he 
 spoke. “ Zephyr is a beautiful animal, but 
 I shall never feel that he is a safe mount 
 for you.” 
 
 “ Zephyr is a darling,” replied his daughter, 
 “ and I’ll hear nothing against him. His 
 temper is a little erratic at times, I will 
 admit, but he does not mean any harm. As 
 for his speed, there is not another horse in 
 Constancia that can touch him.” 
 
 While they were thus debating on the 
 merits and demerits of the horse in question, 
 Durrington was permitted an opportunity of 
 studying the President more closely. He 
 saw a man upwards of seventy years of 
 age, slightly above the middle height, and 
 of somewhat spare build. His head was 
 grandly shaped, and crowned with a pro- 
 fusion of silvery grey hair. The face was 
 without beard or moustache, the mouth firm, 
 the forehead lofty and broad, while the eyes, 
 large and dark as coals, seemed to still retain the 
 fire they had possessed in youth. Altogether 
 it was the countenance of a leader, cool, 
 temperate, and above all, honest. Having 
 
A Maker of Nations. 151 
 
 once seen it, it could be easily understood 
 why he had so long retained the trust of his 
 fellow countrymen. Durrington watched the 
 father and daughter together, and noted their 
 love for each other. The father idolized his 
 child, and the child loved and honoured her 
 parent above all living men. 
 
 While he was still watching them, the door 
 opened, and Coralie Vanhoysen sailed into the 
 room, radiantly beautiful. Her costume, or 
 should I say her confection 7 since it hailed 
 from the city which is said to be the par- 
 ticular paradise of good Americans, was a 
 triumph of the milliner’s art ; its colour was 
 of the palest pink, and it suited her to per- 
 fection. She had taken the greatest care 
 to look her best that evening, and the result 
 satisfied even herself. Durrington thought 
 she appeared younger than when he had seen 
 her in Vienna five years before. On entering 
 the room she crossed directly to where the 
 latter was standing, and holding out her hand 
 to him said, as if in astonishment : 
 
 “ Why, Mr. Durrington, can it really be 
 you ! ” Then turning to her hostess she 
 added : “ How kind of you to arrange such a 
 pleasant surprise for me ! ” 
 
 Durrington said something appropriate to 
 the occasion, and a moment later dinner was 
 
152 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 announced, and the President gave Madame 
 Vanhoysen his arm. Durrington followed 
 with his hostess, and the touch of her soft 
 fingers resting on his sleeve went through 
 him like an electric shock. Dressed entirely 
 in black, with a narrow band of velvet round 
 her slender throat, she was more beautiful in 
 his eyes than Coralie with her Parisian 
 costume, her diamonds, and her bewitching 
 manner, all put together. Yet how diSerent 
 his opinion had once been ! 
 
 Among the number of pleasing eccen- 
 tricities which had endeared him to the 
 nation over which he had so long presided. 
 President Cavarro counted that of an extreme 
 simplicity. He was unostentatious in every- 
 thing he did. Quite prepared, when neces- 
 sary, to comport himself with the grandeur 
 that befitted his position, he preferred that 
 his private life should resemble, as far as 
 possible, that of any other citizen of com- 
 parative wealth under his rule. For this 
 reason, the great banqueting hall in the 
 palace as often as not stood empty, while the 
 snug little dining-room in the more private 
 portion of the house was the scene of many 
 charming reunionSj at which the President 
 and his daughter played their respective parts 
 to perfection. It was in this smaller room 
 
A Maker of Nations. 153 
 
 that Durrington presently found himself 
 seated opposite Coralie, with Senor Cavarro 
 on his right, and the latter’s daughter on 
 his left. 
 
 I have the best of reasons for supposing 
 that the memory of that evening will 
 probably remain with Durrington as long as 
 any other event of his life. To say that he 
 thoroughly enjoyed himself, however, would 
 scarcely be the truth. His conscience w'as 
 not sufficiently elastic to permit of that. 
 One thing, however, is quite certain, and 
 that is that he was more at his ease than 
 he expected to be. It was only after the 
 servants had left the room and the President 
 had happened to touch upon the question 
 of the possibility of revolutionary trouble 
 in the State, that he felt really unhappy. 
 
 Coralie had been talking with Mademoiselle 
 Cavarro a moment before. Now she turned 
 to her host with a startled look upon her 
 face. 
 
 “ But, dear sir,” she said, as if in alarm, 
 “you surely do not mean to say that there 
 is going to be war in this country ? Oh, I 
 should be too frightened if it were to 
 happen while I am here ! ” 
 
 “ Forgive me, Madame,” replied the person 
 she addressed. “ It was foolish of me to have 
 
154 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 referred to the subject at all. I assure you 
 you need not feel the least alarm. My 
 Government is quite capable of coping with 
 any little difficulty that may arise.” 
 
 Durrington, for reasons of his own, said 
 nothing, but he could not help feeling, from 
 what the President had said, that the 
 authorities were far from being aware of the 
 real size of the egg of discord which Spielman 
 was so industriously engaged in hatching. 
 For the moment the mere thought of what 
 the feelings of the President would be when 
 he should learn the truth, made his flesh 
 creep. Could nothing be done to avert the 
 catastrophe ? Nothing, unless someone was 
 to turn traitor and reveal the inner workings 
 of the conspiracy. But there were only 
 three who were familiar with them : Spiel- 
 man, MacCartney, and himself. The first 
 two were impossible, for obvious reasons. In 
 that case, he alone remained. But it was 
 quite out of the question that he could play 
 such a part, even for the sake of the woman 
 he loved. 
 
 As he came to this decision he saw 
 Coralie’s eyes fixed upon him. It was as if 
 she were trying to read his thoughts. Know- 
 ing what she knew, she had sufficient reason 
 to feel anxious. She need not have done so, 
 
A Maker of Nations. 155 
 
 however, for the hostess presently began to 
 talk of Egypt and the East, and the subject 
 of the approaching trouble was dropped, and 
 not again referred to. 
 
 At the conclusion of the meal the gentle- 
 men accompanied the ladies to the drawing- 
 room, an arrangement for which Durrington 
 was extremely grateful, seeing that he had 
 no desire to be left alone with the President 
 in the present perturbed state of his feelings. 
 
 “ Perhaps we may be able to persuade 
 Madame Vanhoysen to sing to us,” said 
 Senor Cavarro to his daughter, when they 
 had been in the drawing-room about ten 
 minutes. “ She is usually so kind.” 
 
 “ I shall be delighted — that is to say, if you 
 are quite sure you are not tired of hearing 
 me,” replied the fair Coralie, who was by no 
 means sorry to have an opportunity of work- 
 ing upon Durrington’s heart strings on her 
 own account. She accordingly swept up to 
 the piano in her own inimitable fashion, 
 dropped her tiny lace handkerchief upon the 
 candle-rests, and arranged herself to advan- 
 tage upon the music-stool. 
 
 Her behaviour may have been a trifle 
 theatrical, but playing for effect was Coralie’s 
 weak point. She had so long performed 
 upon the great stage of the world, that to act 
 
156 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 had become second nature to her. It is an 
 ascertained fact, I believe, among one or 
 two acquainted with her history, that on 
 three occasions, at least, Coralie Vanhoysen 
 owed her success — and, indeed, I might go 
 almost as far as to say her life — to the 
 possession of an extremely beautiful voice. 
 It was a soprano of the purest quality, which 
 had been cultivated to its utmost limit. As 
 a commencement she sang a little song of 
 Grieg’s ; and, after a short pause, during 
 which the President found time to pay her 
 one of his inimitable compliments, she was 
 easily induced to sing again. This was the 
 moment for which she had been waiting all 
 the evening. When she reseated herself at 
 the piano, she had lost something of her 
 usual brightness. Then, looking at Durring- 
 ton, who, by the way, was watching Nita 
 Oavarro’s profile outlined against the waU 
 behind her, she commenced one of the most 
 pathetic little songs in the range of operatic 
 music. It was that morsel from Gounod’s 
 Faust known in Enghsh as “When all was 
 Young.” 
 
 Her rendering of the little piece was so 
 pathetic and beautiful that it would have 
 brought tears into the eyes of those least 
 susceptible to the influence of music. As for 
 
A Maker of Nations. 157 
 
 Durrington, she had scarcely played the first 
 three bars of the introduction before he was 
 sitting upright in his chair with his heart 
 beating like a thermantidote paddle. What 
 recollections that song conjured up for him 1 
 How well he could remember the occasion 
 on which he had first heard her sing it. That 
 was many years ago, more, perhaps, than 
 either of them would have cared to count ; 
 but, even after this lapse of time, he could 
 recall the dress she wore and the colour of 
 the ribbon round her slender throat. It was 
 a glimpse of a long and almost forgotten life, 
 and it stirred him to the very centre of his 
 being. But not in the way she had hoped. 
 What she had desired to do was, by bringing 
 back to him a time when they had been 
 something more than friends to each other, 
 to reproduce the old tender feeling that had 
 once existed between them, and thus to weld 
 anew the chains that had once bound him to 
 her. Unfortunately for her scheme, however, 
 she had forgotten that there are opportune, 
 as well as inopportune, moments for recalling 
 the past. She had chosen the latter. At 
 such a juncture in his life’s history, the 
 Durrington who loved Nita Cavarro in the 
 present, was not at all anxious to be re- 
 minded that he was the man who had felt 
 
158 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 so strongly towards Madame Vanhoysen in 
 the past. 
 
 Coralie, having finished her song, rose, 
 and returned to the chair she had originally 
 occupied. She bowed her thanks for the 
 President’s praise, and for a few moments sat 
 studying the handle of her fan in silence. 
 Had she done herself good or harm by the 
 experiment ? She would have been sadly 
 put out had she known that, when Durrington 
 walked back to his hotel that evening, the 
 song was still ringing in his brain ; it was 
 not the face of the singer, however, but 
 that of the President’s daughter which 
 accompanied it. 
 
 The ice once broken, Durrington found 
 himself spending a considerable time at the 
 Palace. His old friendship for Coralie fur- 
 nished him with an excellent excuse, of which 
 he was not slow to avail himself. He had 
 managed to relegate his conscience to the 
 background for the time being, where, though 
 it had an unpleasant habit of poking its head 
 out at inconvenient times, it behaved itself 
 comparatively well. In this fashion the 
 remainder of the week sped away, and the 
 time drew near for Durrington to return to 
 the estancia, taking with him Coralie’s answer 
 to Spielman’s letter. If the truth must be 
 
A Maker of Nations. 159 
 
 told, his thoughts had so constantly been 
 occupied in another direction that he had 
 almost forgotten the existence, not only of 
 the letter in question, but even of Spielman 
 himself. One thing was very certain, how- 
 ever ; if he had cherished a liking for Nita 
 Cavarro when he had met her at General 
 Martinez’s house, he was over head and ears 
 in love with her now. Had he been a little 
 less so, he might possibly have noticed that 
 Coralie was growing daily more suspicious, 
 and that every time she saw him pay any 
 attention to the other, a look invariably came 
 into her eyes that meant mischief for one or 
 both of them, and at no distant date. Force 
 of circumstances had always prevented Coralie 
 from being a particularly staunch friend, but 
 she had had opportunities of proving herself 
 an active and uncompromising enemy. 
 
 On the morning preceding the day of his 
 departure, Durrington made his way to the 
 Palace as usual, and, having passed the sentry 
 at the gates, was proceeding along the main 
 drive to the house, when, to his surprise, he 
 saw Coralie coming towards him. As she 
 approached, it struck him that she looked 
 pale and heavy-eyed, as if she had not slept 
 that night ; and in an idle fashion he 
 wondered what was the matter. 
 
i6o A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ Good-morning, Dick,” she said, as they 
 met and shook hands. “I am sorry to say 
 that Nita will be unable to come out this 
 morning as she promised. She has to preside 
 at a meeting of ladies, who are arranging a 
 fete for some charitable object.” Then, see- 
 ing the expression on the other’s face, she 
 added vindictively, “ I’m afraid, unless you 
 can invent an excuse very quickly, you will 
 have to content yourself with my society 
 this time.” 
 
 “I shall be delighted,” said Durrington, 
 fighting down his disappointment and vainly 
 hoping that his companion had not noticed 
 it. “ You know what a pleasure your society 
 always gives me, Coralie.” 
 
 “ It may have done so once,” she answered. 
 “ But I am afraid I was younger then, and 
 that makes a great deal of difference, does 
 it not ? ” 
 
 Feeling that she had said quite enough 
 for the present, she changed the subject by 
 asking in what manner he proposed to 
 amuse her. 
 
 “It is a warm morning,” said Durrington. 
 “ Let us sit under the trees in the garden 
 and talk of old days. I like to be lazy and 
 reminiscent when I have the opportunity.” 
 
 They accordingly strolled down a side path 
 
A Maker of Nations. i6i 
 
 until presently they found themselves opposite 
 the seat to which she had conducted him on 
 the night of his arrival in the capital. They 
 sat down, and with Coralie’s permission 
 Durrington lit a cigar. He was bitterly dis- 
 appointed at not seeing Mademoiselle Cavarro, 
 and he could not help feeling that he had 
 allowed Coralie to become aware of the fact. 
 He was not too far gone in love to recognise 
 how fatal that would be. For some minutes 
 they sat in silence, she executing circles in 
 the gravel with the ferrule of her parasol, he 
 drawing in dense volumes of smoke and 
 slowly letting them issue from his lips again. 
 Metaphorically, they were standing side by 
 side on the edge of a precipice, and each 
 was afraid to move lest he or she should 
 make a false step and topple over into 
 the abyss. 
 
 “ And so you are really determined to leave 
 us to-morrow, Dick,” said Coralie, when the 
 silence had lasted some minutes and was 
 beginning to grow oppressive. 
 
 “ Quite determined,” he replied. “ I pro- 
 mised Spielman that I would bring back an 
 answer to that letter in a week. Will you 
 have it ready for me to-morrow morning ? ” 
 
 “ I think so,” Coralie replied, smoothing 
 out her glove upon her knee as she spoke. 
 
 L 
 
i 62 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ I have only a little more to add : but unfor- 
 tunately, however, I can’t do that until I am 
 quite convinced upon a certain point.” 
 
 Had he only known what that point was 
 and how closely it concerned himself, he 
 would perhaps have taken more interest in it. 
 As it was, he was quite unsuspicious, and 
 went to meet his fate as innocently as a lamb 
 looks through a gate towards a butcher. 
 
 “ And are you still determined to sever 
 your connection with us as soon as war is 
 declared ? ” Coralie continued, putting down 
 her gloves on the seat beside her and clasping 
 her hands upon the handle of her parasol. 
 
 “ No ! I have changed my mind on that 
 subject,” Durrington replied. “ I have come 
 to the conclusion that this letter, which I am 
 to take back from you, will be my last work 
 for Spielman. When I have delivered it into 
 his hands, I’m going to give up the work of 
 Eevolution Promoting, and clear out for good 
 and all.” 
 
 Coralie uttered a little cry of astonishment 
 and alarm. She had no idea he was going to 
 act so soon. 
 
 “ Oh, Dick ! you’re surely not in earnest 
 when you say that ?” she said. “ You cannot 
 be. It would be madness.” 
 
 “ Madness or no madness, I was never more 
 
A Maker of Nations. 163 
 
 in earnest in my life,” he replied. “ I’m not 
 going any further with this hateful affair. I 
 only wish I had never gone so far. I shall 
 hate myself for ever for it. Since I have 
 known Cavarro, and have come to understand 
 something of his noble and unselfish charac- 
 ter, I have realised what a vile business ours 
 really is. I only wish I had never come into 
 it. Coralie, can’t you see what I mean ? 
 Can’t you understand the infamy of it all ? ” 
 
 “ I can see it quite plainly,” she replied 
 in a voice that was as hard and cold as a 
 human voice could be. 
 
 “ Then why don’t you follow my example ? 
 Why don’t you leave it, as I am doing? 
 Good heavens ! Coralie, have you a heart of 
 stone that you can win their friendship, 
 accept their hospitality, talk and jest with 
 them, and all the time know that you are 
 playing the traitor, and luring them on to 
 such troubles as they never dreamed of ? I 
 cannot, I will not, believe it. It is impossible 
 you could be so base.” 
 
 “ What can I do ? I am helpless,” she said 
 wearily. 
 
 “You are nothing of the kind,” he an- 
 swered. “ Why should you be ? You are 
 your own mistress, and can defy Spielman. 
 He has no more hold upon you than he has 
 
164 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 upon me. We have only allowed him to 
 think that he has. Come, Coralie, be your- 
 self. Let us get away, aud have done with 
 all this hateful business. I will arrange 
 everything for you, and take care that you 
 come to no harm. You can trust me, I 
 think.” 
 
 Her face had grown even paler than before. 
 Then an eager, hungry look came in her eyes. 
 It was as if she saw an opportunity of attain- 
 ing some object, or some end upon the 
 possession of which she had long set her 
 heart, and which until that moment she had 
 believed to be out of her reach. 
 
 “ Do you mean that you will take me away 
 from South America, and prevent me from 
 falling into Spielman’s hands?” she inquired, 
 in a voice so low that Durrington could 
 scarcely distinguish her words. 
 
 “ I mean it,” he replied. “ If you will come 
 away, I will pledge my word to you that 
 Spielman shall not harm you in any shape or 
 form. There will be no possible risk. If for 
 no other reason, he will have too much to 
 occupy him here for the next six months 
 to bother about following us. Are you pre- 
 pared to risk it ? ” 
 
 “But I do not understand,” she faltered. 
 “ In what capacity am I to go with you ? 
 
A Maker of Nations. 165 
 
 There are so many things to be thought of 
 and to be explained before I can come to a 
 decision.” 
 
 He was about to reply, but she stopped 
 him by holding up her hand. Her face was 
 still very pale, and now she was trembling 
 like a leaf. Durrington saw that the storm 
 was rising, and in a few minutes it would 
 break upon him. He began to realise what 
 he had done when it was too late to avert the 
 catastrophe. She had taken his hand, and 
 was holding it in her own, bending over it, 
 sobbing passionately. It was all so sudden 
 and so unexpected that, for a moment, he did 
 not know how to act. 
 
 “ My dear Coralie,” he said at last, drawing 
 his hand away as he spoke. “ What on earth 
 does all this mean ? You must not cry here. 
 If anyone were to see you, what would they 
 think ? What is the matter ? Tell me, and 
 let me help you.” 
 
 “ Matter ! ” she cried with intense scorn. 
 “ Can’t you see what is the matter ? Do you 
 wish to force me into telling you? Kichard 
 Durrington ’ ’ 
 
 There was a pause, and then she continued: 
 
 “ Oh, Dick ! Dick ! are you so blind that 
 you cannot see why I am here, or why I am 
 acting as I am? Have you forgotten the 
 
i66 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 past, and what we once were to each other ? 
 Must I tell you that I only accepted Spiel- 
 man’s ofier to take part in this wretched 
 business because he had told me that you 
 were going to make one of the expedition? 
 And now you ask me to give it up, and to go 
 away with you ! Yes, I will go, and with all 
 the thankfulness and gladness in the world, 
 hut it must he as your wife ! ” 
 
 Durrington rose to his feet. Of course, 
 he remembered the state of things which 
 had once existed between them, but that 
 was all past and gone. Her proposition 
 was impossible ; there were a hundred 
 reasons why it could not be entertained for 
 a moment. 
 
 “ Coralie, my dear girl,” he said as kindly 
 as he knew how, “ you cannot dream how 
 sorry I am that you have said this to me. 
 It makes everything so very difficult both for 
 you and for me. You have asked me some- 
 thing that is quite out of my power to do. 
 If you will come away — and I honestly believe 
 you will in the end — you shall never regret 
 it. I will pass my word for that.” 
 
 She turned to him a face all drawn and 
 haggard with emotion. 
 
 “ On those terms, and no others,” she 
 answered very slowly, and as if she were 
 
A Maker of Nations. 167 
 
 driving every word by main force from 
 between her lips. 
 
 “ I have already said that it is impossible,” 
 he replied. “ It would mean misery to both 
 of us. You must see that yourself.” 
 
 “ I understand,” she answered sullenly. 
 “You mean that it is impossible because 
 you love Nita Cavarro ? ” 
 
 Durrington winced as if he had been 
 struck. 
 
 “ You have no right to say such a thing,” 
 he said. “ You have no right to associate 
 her name with mine. It is an unwarrantable 
 liberty.” 
 
 “ But it is quite true. I have seen it in 
 your face for days. You love her, and the 
 reason you are trying to get me away from 
 here is because you think I am not fit com- 
 pany for her. The President and his country 
 are nothing to you ; that is only your excuse. 
 It is of the girl you are thinking ! ” 
 
 Her eyes were blazing, her breast heaving, 
 and she was quickly working herself into a 
 passion. Durrington was not sorry, for, all 
 things considered, he preferred her rage to 
 her tears. In either case, however, the 
 position was sufficiently awkward. 
 
 “ Coralie,” he said, in a vain attempt to 
 arrest her wrath, “ will you listen to me for a 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 1 68 
 
 few moments ? I shall not detain you very 
 long. You have said that I love the Presi- 
 dent’s daughter. I decline to say whether I 
 do or not. What I want to tell you is that 
 if, as I have said just now, you will consent 
 to leave this place and come away, I will 
 protect you as I would a dearly loved sister. 
 You shall have no trouble, no anxiety, that I 
 can prevent. Can you accept my assurance ? 
 Think for one moment.” 
 
 She paused before she replied. Her calm- 
 ness, however, was only assumed. 
 
 “I cannot decide now,” she answered. “I 
 must have time to think. I will let you know 
 this evening. You will be dining here ? ” 
 
 “ No,” Durrington replied. “ I shall not 
 come here again.” 
 
 At this news her eyes brightened. If he 
 loved Nita Cavarro, as she had good reason 
 to suppose he did, surely he would not go 
 away without either attempting to see some- 
 thing more, or of taking some farewell of her. 
 
 “ You will let me know to-night ? ” he said. 
 
 “ To-night,” she answered in a brighter 
 manner than she had yet spoken. “I will 
 write to you to-night without fail.” 
 
 “ Heaven grant you may decide as I wish,” 
 he replied. Then, bidding her good-bye, he 
 left her, and make his way to the main 
 
A Maker of Nations. 169 
 
 gates, and so back to his hotel. He had 
 given Coralie his assurance that, if she would 
 leave this country with him, he would take 
 her. In that case Nita Cavarro was lost to 
 him for ever. Needless to say, the remainder 
 of his day was far from being a happy one. 
 All he wanted now was to get his interview 
 with Spielrnan over, and turn his back upon 
 the Eepublic for good and all. He felt it 
 had been a bad day for him when he had set 
 foot on it. 
 
 As evening approached, an irresistible desire 
 to see once more the woman he loved took 
 possession of Durrington. He could not 
 withstand it. Even if he could not see her 
 he must at least see the house in which she 
 dwelt. He would take away with him a leaf 
 from the tree, a stone from the road, any 
 little thing that might serve to remind him 
 in future days of the sacrifice he had made 
 for her. He remembered that on the night 
 when he first arrived in the city, Coralie had 
 told him that she and the President’s daughter 
 often walked in the garden in the cool of the 
 evening. He would go, place himself in 
 some favourable position, and if Fortune were 
 kinder to him than she had been of late, 
 he might possibly catch a glimpse of her. 
 Accordingly, when he had dined, he made 
 
1 70 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 his way to the Palace. The stars shone down 
 on him as they had done when he had first 
 seen the house, the breeze sighed through 
 the orange trees and among the palms ; but 
 how different were his feelings from what 
 they had been then ! For upwards of an 
 hour he watched, but saw no signs of her for 
 whom he waited. Another quarter of an 
 hour went by, and when he had almost given 
 the case up as hopeless, his quick eye detected 
 a solitary figure coming down the broad 
 path leading from the house. The instinct of 
 love, which is surer than the keenest eyesight, 
 told him that it was the President’s daughter. 
 In a flash he made up his mind, and immedi- 
 ately hastened towards the main gates. The 
 sentry on duty recognised him, and passed 
 him through without comment or inquiry, 
 and, once inside the gates, he hurried along 
 the path in pursuit. What he was going to 
 say when he found her he did not stop to 
 think. All he wanted was to see her, and to 
 speak to her face to face once more. 
 
 Hearing a step behind her, the girl hesitated 
 and turned round. As on the first night he 
 had dined at the Palace, she was dressed 
 entirely in black, and wore a black lace man- 
 tilla upon her head. To the man before her 
 she had never appeared so beautiful. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 171 
 
 “ Why, Mr. Durringfcon,” she said, “ I 
 thought we were not to have the pleasure 
 of seeing you this evening ? ” 
 
 “ I have come up to bid you good-bye,” 
 he answered. “ I wanted to thank you for 
 your kindness to me during my stay in the 
 capital.” 
 
 “It is a pity you cannot stay longer,” she 
 said. “ You must pay the city another visit.” 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 “ I am afraid that will be impossible,” he 
 said. “ I leave South America at the end of 
 the week.” 
 
 He had expected that she would show some 
 sign of surprise, but she did not. 
 
 They had walked almost half the length of 
 the path before she spoke again. When she 
 did, she said: 
 
 “ Have you not made up your mind very 
 suddenly to leave us? I thought you had 
 intended staying in the country for some con- 
 siderable time to come ? ” 
 
 “ Yes, that was my original intention,” he 
 replied. “ But something has occurred which 
 compels me to leave at once.” 
 
 The temptation to tell her his feelings 
 towards herself was more than he could bear. 
 Why should he not let her know ? As he 
 was going away it could do no harm; she 
 
172 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 would be none the worse for hearing it. It 
 was not as if he were asking her to have 
 mercy upon him, or even to give him her 
 love in exchange. There was certainly no 
 reason against it. How was he to know that 
 Coralie, who had followed her hostess from 
 the house, had seen him, and was now hidden 
 among the bushes within earshot? 
 
 “ Miss Cavarro,” he said at last, “ shall I 
 tell you why I am going away? ” 
 
 She must have had some inkling of what 
 was coming, for her manner suddenly changed, 
 and in place of the frank and fearless girl 
 who had stood before him only a moment ago, 
 he foimd a humble and frightened woman. 
 
 “ Tell me,” was all she said. 
 
 They were standing in a secluded spot, 
 surrounded by large orange trees. 
 
 He took possession of her hand. 
 
 “ I am going away, Nita,” he said, very 
 slowly and softly, “ because I love you. 
 Because there is not, and never will be, 
 another woman I could love.” 
 
 He thought she would have protested, 
 would have implored him to be silent. She 
 did nothing of the kind. She only looked 
 up at him with her great dark eyes, and said : 
 
 “But if you think thus of me, why do 
 you wish to leave me ? ” 
 
“ Coralie . . was now’ within earshot.” 
 
 A Maker of Nations] 
 
 [Page m 
 
 3 
 
A Maker of Nations. 173 
 
 “Because I am not worthy to speak to 
 you, much less to love you,” he answered. 
 “ I have fought it out with myself, and I 
 know that I must go away.” 
 
 “ But why should you go ? You have 
 done no wrong ! ” 
 
 She did not say it as if she asked a 
 question, she simply made an assertion which 
 she knew to be irrefutable. 
 
 “ You do not know,” he replied. “ If 
 you knew me for what I am, you would 
 hate me as I hate myself.” 
 
 “ You are unjust to yourself, I feel sure 
 you are,” she said. “ At any rate, I am 
 content to believe in you.” 
 
 “ Don’t say that,” he cried, as if in entreaty. 
 “ For pity’s sake, don’t say that. I tell 
 you again that you would despise me beyond 
 all measure if you knew everything. No, Nita, 
 let me go; forget that you ever saw me. 
 I shall love you and remember you as long 
 as I can remember anything, but you must 
 look me out of your heart— you must only 
 think of me as you would think of the dead. 
 I have made a mistake in coming here to- 
 night that I shall repent all my life. I 
 thought it would be easy to go away when I 
 had told you of my love, but I did not 
 think you would receive the news like this. 
 
174 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 I expected you to order me to leave you 
 as if I had insulted you. I was content 
 to run the risk, and I thought you would 
 spurn me.” 
 
 He raised her hands to his lips. 
 
 “But I cannot let you go like this,” she 
 faltered. “ If you only knew — is it possible 
 that you ” 
 
 There was another little interval of silence, 
 then with a catch of her breath she con- 
 tinued : 
 
 “Is it not possible that I, too, may feel as 
 you do ? ” 
 
 His heart for a moment seemed to stop 
 beating, and then it went on faster than 
 before. Was it believable that such a miracle 
 could happen as that she could love him ? 
 No, no, at any cost she must not say it. 
 He could not bear it. It was the last straw 
 on his load of misery. 
 
 “For pity’s sake, do not tell me that you 
 love me,” he muttered hoarsely. “Do not 
 add to my punishment by letting me think 
 that I have brought you so low as that.” 
 
 “ Your love would never bring me low,” 
 she whispered. “ If you love me I am 
 content — more than content.” 
 
 He turned his face away to hide his 
 emotion. He felt as if he were choking. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 175 
 
 “No,” he said, as soon as he could force 
 himself to speak. “I must go. You must 
 forget that such a man exists upon the earth. 
 Oh, Grod, why did You let me come into this 
 world to cause this misery ? Nita, let me 
 kiss you once, and then bid you good-bye 
 for ever.” 
 
 He took her in his arms and kissed her 
 passionately. When he released her his 
 cheeks were wet with her tears. 
 
 “ Good-bye,” he said, as if his heart were 
 breaking, “ Good-bye, my own dear love.” 
 
 Before she could prevent him he had left 
 her, and was making his way towards the gate. 
 
 Next morning two letters were handed to 
 him. One was from Coralie, the other he 
 tore open with feverish haste. 
 
 “ She says she will love me and be true to 
 me while life lasts,” he murmured when he 
 had finished reading. “In that case God 
 help her and me too.” 
 
 It was not until ten minutes later that he 
 even thought of the second letter. He opened 
 it, and found inside a note for himself and an 
 envelope addressed to Spielman. It said 
 something for Durrington’s character for 
 honesty that this inner epistle was entrusted 
 to his care after all that had happened. The 
 first note to himself ran as follows : 
 
176 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ Dear Dick, — This morning I was not 
 myself at all, and in consequence I said 
 things I did not mean. Forgive and forget 
 them as soon as you can. For yourself I 
 don’t believe for an instant that you’ll 
 carry out your threat of leaving us. Spiel- 
 man will manage to talk you over somehow. 
 As for myself, I intend remaining at my 
 post. Vive la Guerre! say I. 
 
 “ Your affectionate friend, 
 
 “ CORALIB. 
 
 “P.S. — enclose my reply to Spielman’s 
 letter.” 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 O N his arrival at the estancia^ on the 
 afternoon following his departure from 
 the capital, Durrington found Spielman hard 
 at work in the room which had once been the 
 principal living-room, but was now converted 
 into an office. He was seated at a table 
 almost buried in papers, and was writing as 
 if for dear life. When the door opened he 
 looked up, and found Durrington standing 
 before him. The latter noticed that he looked 
 older and more careworn than when he had 
 left him a week before. It was plain that 
 during that time Spielman had been work- 
 ing himself, in the furtherance of the cause, 
 as remorselessly as he had worked the others. 
 
 “ Glad to see you back again,” he said, 
 with an attempt at cheeriness which the 
 puckers round the corners of the mouth 
 belied. “ Hope you have had a good time. 
 You won’t have such a good one here, 
 I can promise you. “ We’re awfully hard 
 pressed just now. Mao’s in the next room 
 
 177 M 
 
lyS A Maker of Nations. 
 
 pretty well off his head with the details of 
 the Commissariat Department. He’s Com- 
 mander-in- Chief, Adjutant-General, Quarter- 
 master-General, Director of Military Intelli- 
 gence, and Stafi Officer for Supplies and 
 Stores all rolled into one.” 
 
 Then an idea struck him, for he ran the 
 blotting-pad over what he had written, and 
 said abruptly — 
 
 “Have you brought me the answer from 
 Coralie ? ” 
 
 Durrington produced from his pocket the 
 letter he had received the morning before, 
 and handed it across the table to the other. 
 How little he guessed the effect of his action 
 upon his own affairs ! Spielman, who was 
 thorough even to the most minute detail, 
 did not tear open the envelope, but, taking 
 a paper-knife, cut it as carefully and deliber- 
 ately as if he were afraid of spoiling its 
 appearance by any undue haste. Then he 
 drew forth the contents, and leaned back in 
 his chair to peruse them. At that moment 
 his likeness to the Great Napoleon was even 
 more striking than usual. There was the 
 same immovable resolution about the mouth, 
 the same dogged determination about the 
 chin. His nerves, in spite of the strain under 
 which he had of late been labouring, must 
 
A Maker of Nations. 179 
 
 have been under perfect control, for, dis- 
 turbing as the contents of the letter were, he 
 never for a moment permitted them to find 
 expression upon his face. 
 
 Having read the letter carefully, he read 
 it again, then, lighting a match, held it over 
 the flames and burnt it, just as Coralie had 
 burnt his own epistle in Constancia a week 
 before. It had told him all he wanted to 
 know, so there was no necessity for him to 
 keep it. He knew now that Durrington was 
 madly in love with Nita Cavarro; he was 
 aware, also, that this was the reason why he 
 intended to sever his connection with the 
 Eevolution ; and he had also been given to 
 understand that the same unfortunate indi- 
 vidual had done his best to induce Coralie to 
 desert as well. In addition to all this, there 
 was an insinuated something that was not — 
 to put it mildly — in strict accordance with 
 facts. It was certainly not true that Dur- 
 rington intended to accept an ofier — which, 
 it was said, had been made to him by General 
 Martinez — of an appointment in the Presi- 
 dential Army. Spielman himself did not 
 believe that for an instant, but for safety’s 
 sake it was necessary that he should act as if 
 he did. Most important of all was it that 
 Durrington should not suspect that he knew 
 
i8o A Maker of Nations. 
 
 anything of his shortcomings. As the first 
 move in the game he was going to play, 
 he opened his cigar-case, which was lying 
 on the table, and pushed it across to his 
 companion. 
 
 “And how did you find the fair Coralie ? ” 
 he asked, as the other lit his cigar and threw 
 the match away. 
 
 “ She seemed well enough,” Durrington 
 answered a little nervously, for he was 
 approaching the explanation he had made 
 up his mind to have with Spielman. “ I 
 fancy, however, she is growing tired of the 
 part she is playing. She was almost 
 hysterical the day before yesterday when 
 she spoke to me about it.” 
 
 Spielman knocked the ash oS his cigar 
 against the edge of the table before he 
 replied. He had no intention of being 
 drawn into an argument on the subject, 
 either now or at any other time. He con- 
 sidered that to argue a question implied a 
 weakness in defence. Accordingly, he pre- 
 ferred to hold his forces in reserve until the 
 moment came to act. 
 
 “ You must make allowances for her. 
 Coralie is an emotional woman,” he re- 
 marked, as if it were a fault that might be 
 easily rectified. “ I can remember her tiring 
 
A Maker of Nations. i8i 
 
 of many things, but I cannot recall the fact 
 that it ever made a difference in the result 
 of her work. Such little outbursts are 
 merely the escape of energy through the 
 safety valve of hysteria. But we are wasting 
 time talking, and I have much to do. Would 
 you like to rest for an hour after your 
 journey, or are you ready to get to work 
 immediately ? ” 
 
 Durrington was about to reply that he had 
 no intention of doing any more work in 
 connection with the Eevolution, but before 
 he could do so Spielman had rung a small 
 bell on the table at his elbow. A moment 
 later MacCartney entered the room. Like 
 Spielman, only in a greater degree, he seemed 
 worn out with work. Durrington’s heart 
 smote him as he greeted the old friend he 
 had determined to desert. He realised in 
 that moment that he was fonder of Mac- 
 Cartney than he had imagined. 
 
 “ Back again, ^Dickie ? ” said the other 
 cheerfully. “ By Jove, you look as jolly as 
 a sandboy! Doesn’t he, Spielman? And 
 in such excellent condition, too I My lad, 
 we shall have to work some of that adipose 
 tissue off you for the good of your health. 
 I never saw anything so disgraceful. By 
 the way, Spielman, you rang ? ” 
 
i 82 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ When is the Ferdinand and Isabella due 
 off Maraschino Point ? ” asked Spielman. 
 
 “ At midnight,” MacCartney replied. 
 “ She passed Madrid Island at 7.45 yester- 
 day morning.” 
 
 “ At midnight ! ” Spielman repeated medi- 
 tatively. “ And how far is it from here to 
 the Point — if you take the mountain track? ” 
 
 “ Forty-three miles, as near as can be,” 
 MacCartney answered. “ Allowing for the 
 difficulties of the path, a smart man on a 
 good horse should do it in — what do you 
 say, Dickie ? You ought to know ; you’ve 
 travelled it often enough.” 
 
 “ Six hours,” said Durrington. “ Not a 
 minute under. It’s all very well while you’re 
 on the plains ; you can push along then. It’s 
 when you get into the ranges that you lose 
 time. In some places the track is almost as 
 steep as the side of a house, and you have 
 to lead your horse for miles.” 
 
 Spielman looked at him fixedly for a 
 minute, as if he were weighing the pros and 
 cons of something he had in his mind. He 
 had a very pretty scheme on hand, but he 
 wanted to be quite certain that it was feasible 
 before he trusted too much to it. All things 
 considered, it seemed the best way out of the 
 Durrington difficulty. He took his watch 
 
A Maker of Nations. 183 
 
 from his pocket and consulted it. For up- 
 wards of a minute the ticking of the watch 
 was the only sound to be heard in the room. 
 
 “It is now half-past three,” he said at 
 last. “ If, as Dick says, a smart man could 
 do the distance in six hours, he could be 
 there by eleven at latest — that is allowing 
 him half an hour to get ready, and an hour’s 
 rest on the way. MacCartney, my friend, 
 I’m afraid I shall have to send you. You 
 told Bennett to send a boat ashore in case we 
 should want to communicate with him ? ” 
 
 “ Yes,” said MacCartney. “ I ^gave him 
 positive instructions on that point. He is to 
 bring up within three miles of the Point, 
 and to send a boat in at midnight. The 
 man who wants to communicate will burn a 
 blue flare, which the ofidcer in charge will 
 answer with a red.” 
 
 “ In that case you’d better saddle up. I’m 
 more sorry than I can say, for I know that 
 you are worn out. But, as far as I can see, 
 there’s no other way out of it. The letter 
 must be in Bennett’s hands before daylight, 
 or we shall have him arriving at the Port 
 before we are ready to disembark his men.” 
 
 The look of disappointment that flashed 
 across MacCartney’ s face as he heard what 
 was proposed for him vanished as soon as it 
 
184 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 appeared. Wearied almost to death as he 
 was, he was still sufficient of a soldier to 
 accept his order and carry it out without 
 discussion or demur. 
 
 “ Yery good,” he said. “How soon do 
 you think you will have the letter ready 
 for me?” 
 
 “ In five minutes,” Spielman replied, taking 
 up a pen and drawing a sheet of notepaper 
 towards him as he spoke. “I will write it at 
 once. You had better take my horse ; you’ll 
 find him more handy than your own. He’s 
 been eating his head off for the last three 
 days, and should be fairly fresh.” 
 
 MacCartney nodded to show that he under- 
 stood, and left the room without further 
 speech. 
 
 “Excuse me for a few moments, will you, 
 while I write this letter,” said Spielman to 
 Durrington, who was standing opposite him. 
 “ You see the state we’re in ? I’m sorry for 
 poor MacCartney. He has had rather a hard 
 time of it during your absence, and it’s not 
 quite fair to add a long ride like this to 
 his other duties. However, it’s better than 
 writing when all is said and done. I don’t 
 think he’ll be altogether sorry when he is 
 called upon to exchange the pen for the sword. 
 The former should certainly be the mightier, 
 
A Maker of Nations. 185 
 
 since it causes infinitely more trouble to a 
 soldier.” 
 
 A moment later his own pen was scratch- 
 ing over the paper, and the longer he listened 
 to it the more uncomfortable Durrington 
 became. He felt that if Spielman had decided 
 to go on this errand himself he would 
 not have attempted to stop him. With 
 MacCartney, however, it was different. He 
 remembered poor Mac’s haggard face, and as 
 he thought of the long dreary ride through 
 the mountains his heart softened. He might 
 be going to give up his employment, and he 
 might also feel it his duty to sever his con- 
 nection with Spielman and the Eevolution ; 
 but he did not wish, by any action of his, to 
 increase the burden that was already weighing 
 so heavily on MacCartney’s shoulders. Long 
 as his ride that day had been, he was still 
 comparatively fresh. Would it matter very 
 much if he were to do one last errand for the 
 man he loved ? He took counsel with him- 
 self, and eventually came to the conclusion 
 that it would not. He turned to Spielman, 
 who was still writing. 
 
 “Look here,” he observed. “As you say, Mac- 
 Cartney is quite done up. Why should not I 
 take this letter to Bennett ? If it will be of any 
 convenience to you, I am quite willing to do so,” 
 
1 86 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 Spielman looked up from his writing. 
 Then he s m iled as only he could do. 
 
 “ I scarcely liked to ask you,” he said. 
 “After what you told me the other day I 
 did not think it fair to let you do anything 
 more to help us. Besides, I thought you 
 had had enough riding for one day.” 
 
 “ I’m not tired,” said Durrington. “ And 
 if you will finish the letter I will get ready at 
 once. There is not much time to lose.” 
 
 “ I’m sure it’s very kind of you, Durring- 
 ton,” he replied, “ and I know Mac will be as 
 grateful to you as I am. I would go myself 
 only I am expecting O’Donoghue to-night, 
 and, as he is inclined to he nasty just now, I 
 must be here to meet him.” 
 
 “Don’t say any more,” Durrington an- 
 swered. “ There’s no necessity for you to thank 
 me. I’ll go and get my things together and 
 come back for the letter as soon as it’s ready.” 
 
 He went out of the office in search of 
 MacCartney, whom he found in his own room 
 battling with a riding boot. 
 
 “ You can take those things ofi, my friend,” 
 said Dick calmly, tossing a bootjack towards 
 him as he spoke. “ I’m going in your stead. 
 Tell Antonio to put me up some food, will 
 you ? And let me have those blue lights for 
 the signalling.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 187 
 
 “ But this is all nonsense. I’m not going 
 to let you go.” 
 
 “ Are you not ? Well, I think you’d 
 better. Spielman’s orders. By the way, 
 I suppose old Eodriguez is still in the 
 hut there.” 
 
 “ Of course he is,” MacCartney replied, as 
 he drew ofi his boot again and placed it beside 
 its fellow on the floor. “ He is supposed by 
 the few who go near his place to be looking 
 after the sheep and cattle. I should like to 
 know what the Government think about it 
 — that is to say, if they think at all. They 
 must imagine he is as mad as a hatter. We 
 are sending him orders, however, to clear out 
 as soon as war is declared. They’d hang him 
 if they knew the important part he has played 
 in this trouble.” 
 
 “And when do you think war will be 
 declared ? ” Durrington enquired, with an 
 interest he could not conceal. 
 
 “We shall see the start of it at daybreak 
 on Thursday, if all goes well,” MacCartney 
 replied. “Bennett was to have been at the 
 Port on Wednesday night, but he must time 
 his arrival now so that he will get in on 
 Thursday morning, about six o’clock. This 
 is going to be a big business, Dick, my lad, 
 but I’m not certain in my own mind that it is 
 
1 88 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 going to end well. There are too many out- 
 siders concerned in it. O’Donoghue and the 
 other local men, for instance. They are the 
 people of whom I am most afraid. They are 
 playing for their own hands, and they’ve got 
 an idea among them that they are at the head 
 of afiairs, and that Spielman is helping them, 
 instead of vice versa. However, they will be 
 undeceived before long, and in a fashion they 
 won’t appreciate. We expect O’Donoghue 
 here to-night, and Spielman is going to talk 
 to him pretty plainly. Now I’ll go and see 
 about your things.” 
 
 As soon as he was ready, Durrington re- 
 turned to Spielman’s office. The latter had 
 written the letter he was to take to the coast, 
 and was now standing beside the table, hold- 
 ing it in his hand. 
 
 “ Deliver this to Bennett himself,” he said. 
 “ It must fall into no other hands, remember 
 that ! Let him be quite certain when he has 
 read it that he understands what he has to 
 do, and let him write me a reply in order that 
 I may also be certain of that fact. If you 
 have luck you should be back by breakfast- 
 time to-morrow morning.” 
 
 “ I’ll do my best,” said Durrington, and 
 took up his hat, which he had placed upon 
 the table. “ Before I go, however, Spielman, 
 
A Maker of Nations. 189 
 
 I think it only fair that I should tell you 
 why I am doing this.” 
 
 “ For MacCartney’s sake, of course,” said 
 Spielman with a smile. “I saw it in your 
 face when you proposed it. I think it is 
 doubtful whether you would have done so 
 much for me. Have you anything more 
 to say ? ” 
 
 “ Only this,” Durrington replied rather 
 hurriedly, for he was a trifle nonplussed at 
 the other’s plain speaking, “When I return 
 to-morrow I want you to let me go away for 
 good and all. My decision may seem quixotic 
 and absurd to you, but as it is my decision 
 I must abide by it. I cannot go on any 
 longer as I am now.” 
 
 “ My dear fellow,” said Spielman with 
 great affability, “ why make such a fuss about 
 nothing ? You know as well as I do that you 
 are at liberty to do just as you please in the 
 matter. I would not hinder you for worlds. 
 But you know how we feel about your sever- 
 ing your connection with us, don’t you ? ” 
 
 “ I do,” Durrington answered, “ and I think 
 it’s very generous of you to let me off so 
 easily. I can only ask you to believe that 
 there are circumstances connected with it 
 which make it impossible for me to act other- 
 wise than I am doing.” 
 
190 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ I can quite believe that,” said Spielman, 
 still smiling sympathetically. “Don’t worry 
 any more about it. Argue the matter out 
 with yourself while you are away, and when 
 you come back to-morrow act as you think 
 best. I shall think no worse of you if you 
 still decide to go.” 
 
 Durrington stowed the letter away in his 
 pocket, and then, having shaken hands with 
 Spielman, left the room and went out in 
 search of his horse. MacCartney was holding 
 it beyond the verandah rails. The few things 
 he would want on his journey — his provisions, 
 and the lights wherewith he was to signal 
 the steamer — were rolled up in a blanket 
 and secured to the front of his saddle. He 
 mounted and prepared to set off. 
 
 “ Good-bye, Dick, old man,” said Mac- 
 Cartney, looking up at him and holding out 
 his hand. “It is jolly good of you to go 
 like this. I must confess I wasn’t looking 
 forward to it. It’s a nasty ride at the best 
 of times.” 
 
 “ Don’t you worry about that,” said Dick, 
 as he gathered up his reins. “ I shall be back 
 again before you can look round.” 
 
 Then, stooping a little in his saddle, he 
 added in an undertone, “ I’ve just had a talk 
 with Spielman. I’ve arranged it all with him, 
 
A Maker of Nations. 191 
 
 and when I bring him back Bennett’s ans'wer 
 to-morrow, I’m going to clear out.” 
 
 “ And what did he say ? ” 
 
 “ Oh, he was very nice about it,” said 
 Durrington. “ He told me to act as I thought 
 best for my own happiness, and he assured 
 me that he would not think the worse of me 
 whatever I did.” 
 
 MacCartney shook his head. 
 
 “It’s not like him, Dick,” he said. “You 
 ought to know by this time that he doesn’t 
 forgive as readily as all that. There’s some- 
 thing behind it. He’s got something up his 
 sleeve. I know, from things he has said to 
 me during the time you’ve been away, what 
 he thinks about your wishing to leave us. 
 Why he should pretend not to care now, is 
 more than I can say. Don’t trust him too 
 far, is my advice to you.” 
 
 “ He’d better not try any of his tricks with 
 me,” said Durrington. “ He’ll find, if he 
 does, that I can bite as deep as he can.” 
 
 Durrington was silent for a moment after 
 this outburst; then he leant a little over in 
 his saddle and placed his hand on his friend’s 
 shoulder. 
 
 “ I’d give something, Mac, old man,” he 
 said, “ to know that you were coming out of 
 it with me. I don’t like leaving you behind. 
 
192 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 It’s the first time we have separated, and I 
 thought such a thing would never happen. 
 But go I must, come what may. However, 
 this won’t do; if I stop any longer I shall 
 have to tackle those mountains in the dark, 
 and that is out of the question. We’ll talk it 
 over to-morrow. Now good-bye.” 
 
 “ Good-bye,” said MacCartney, and as 
 Dick’s horse went careering down the track 
 like a mad thing, sending the stones 
 whistling through the air behind him like 
 so many bullets, he returned to the house 
 shaking his head. He was still turning 
 Spielman’s inexplicable conduct over in his 
 mind, and the more he did so the less he 
 felt he understood it. 
 
 One thing is quite certain ; Dick had not 
 exaggerated the difficulties of the trail which 
 led through the mountains to Maraschino 
 Point. For the first ten or twelve miles from 
 the estancia^ it was all plain sailing ; the track 
 across the plain was a very fair one, and that 
 up the gradual slope leading to the first pass 
 was almost as good. It was only when it 
 entered this gloomy place, upon which the 
 natives had bestowed the significant title of 
 “ Devil’s Mouth,” that the real trouble began. 
 From that moment until the table-land on the 
 other side was reached, it was one long 
 
“ The track was little more than a goat-path.” 
 
 A Maker of Nations'] 
 
 [Page 193 
 
A Maker of Nations. 193 
 
 succession of difficulties and dangers, each of 
 which had to be negotiated in a different way. 
 In some places the track was little more than 
 a goat-path round the face of the mountains ; 
 in others Durrington was compelled to dis- 
 mount and lead his horse after him up what 
 looked like the precipitous face of the cliff 
 itself. More than once crevasses, he dared 
 not think how deep, had to be crossed, after 
 which, as if to vary matters a little, would 
 come a long slide down a crumbling bank 
 to safety below. 
 
 During his ride he was favoured with plenty 
 of leisure to think over his position. Sup- 
 posing he left Spielman on the following 
 morning, what was he to do ? He might 
 make his way to the port and embark upon 
 the first outward-bound vessel, and so secure 
 his own safety, but how much better off 
 would he be then ? He had no desire to 
 leave the country as matters stood at present. 
 Supposing the Eevolutionists proved success- 
 ful, as he felt almost convinced they must be, 
 and the President shared the end of so many 
 of his fellow rulers, what would Nita’s fate 
 be ? On the other hand, however, would he 
 be able to protect her even if he remained ? 
 At any rate, he was going to try. While 
 he was considering this important question, 
 
194 A- Maker of Nations. 
 
 he passed round the shoulder of the moun- 
 tain, and finally reached the point where the 
 path was narrower than it had yet been. On 
 his right were hundreds of great boulders, 
 piled upon each other; on his left, a sheer 
 drop of something like seven hundred feet. 
 Once his horse nearly stumbled, and in doing 
 so dislodged a stone which rolled over the 
 edge and disappeared into the abyss. So still 
 was the air that he could hear it reach the 
 bottom. Would it not, all things considered, 
 be better for him if, like that stone, he were 
 to roll over and disappear for good and all ? 
 He shuddered at the notion. He was not 
 tired of his life, far from it, he was only 
 wearied of the miserable part he had of late 
 been called upon to play in it. When he had 
 left the mountains and had descended to the 
 plains once more, he got ofi his horse and 
 rested him an hour, during which time he 
 ate his own frugal meal. 
 
 The time he had given Spielman for the 
 distance proved to be a correct one, for, 
 almost punctually at ten o’clock he saw 
 before him the light of the hut on the Point. 
 He rode up and called the name of Eodriguez. 
 A moment later the door was opened, and the 
 man in question stood before him, carrying a 
 lantern in his hand. In the dickering light 
 
A Maker of Nations. 195 
 
 he looked as curious an object as one would 
 be Hkely to meet in a long day’s march. His 
 height could scarcely have been more than 
 four feet, his face was destitute of hair, but 
 what it lacked upon his cheeks and chin was 
 compensated for upon his head. Long love- 
 locks, without curl or crinkle, fell upon his 
 shoulders, giving him a curiously weird 
 appearance. Now, it usually happens that 
 with dwarfs and very much under-sized men, 
 a feature of their deformity consists in their 
 arms being longer in proportion than their 
 bodies. In Eodriguez’ case, however, it was 
 different. His arms were too short rather 
 than too long, while the hands and feet 
 were built to the scale of a man three 
 times his size. The effect was incongruous 
 in the extreme. When he left the hut 
 he held the lantern aloft and looked at 
 Durrington. 
 
 “Is that you, Senor Durrington?” he 
 inquired, as if he were anxious to be assured 
 of the identity of the man before him. 
 
 “Yes, it is I, sure enough,” Durrington 
 replied. “ I have come down to wait for 
 the Ferdinand and Isabella. She is expected 
 at midnight. Do you think she can be lying 
 off the Point now ? ” 
 
 Eodriguez shook his head. 
 
196 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ I was down on the clifi when darkness 
 fell,” he said. “ She was not there then.” 
 
 “ In that case I’ll get off, and you had 
 better put my horse up in the corral,” he said. 
 “You can find something for him to eat, I 
 have no doubt.” 
 
 The little man grunted in acquiescence, 
 and Durrington accordingly dismounted, and 
 gave the animal into his charge. When the 
 pair had disappeared round the corner he 
 made his way into the hut and shut the door. 
 It was a miserable little place, consisting of 
 but one room, and was as rough a dwelling as 
 a human being could wish to live in. A 
 table, made out of an old packing case, and 
 having the name of a Liverpool firm stencilled 
 upon its side, stood in the centre ; opposite it 
 was the man’s sleeping place ; a block of 
 wood did duty for a chair ; on the walls were 
 two or three coloured pictures from European 
 papers, and that was all. The dwelling, like 
 its owner, had few pleasing features to present 
 to the public gaze. 
 
 Durrington began to think it would have 
 been as well had he camped outside ; but he 
 reflected that in all probability he would only 
 have a couple of hours to wait, and for that 
 time, he argued, he could easily put up with 
 things as he found them. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 197 
 
 At the best of times Eodriguez was not 
 sociable. On this occasion, however, be was 
 somewhat better behaved than usual, for, 
 when he had attended to his guest’s horse, 
 he returned to the hut and placed such food 
 as he could get together upon the table. 
 After that he disappeared, leaving Durrington 
 to himself, and it was almost midnight before 
 he returned. 
 
 “ Senor,” he said, as he appeared in the 
 doorway, “the steamer has arrived, and is 
 now lying about three miles off the Point.” 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 D UEEINGTON, who had been trying to 
 snatch a little sleep on the hard earth 
 floor, on hearing Eodriguez’ news, sprang to 
 his feet, donned his hat, and, picking up the 
 blue lights with which he was to signal her, 
 ran out of the hut. Eodriguez leading the 
 way, they proceeded across the open plain 
 towards the cliffs. It was a wild and desolate 
 part of the coast, bleak as its own winter 
 gales, and for the reason that the nearest 
 settlement was more than a hundred miles 
 distant, a better place for the work the con- 
 spirators had in hand could scarcely have 
 been chosen. As good luck had it, the night 
 was fine, and so bright was the starlight that 
 it was possible to see for some considerable 
 distance. In less than ten minutes from the 
 time they left the hut, they found themselves 
 standing on the edge of the cliffs. Durring- 
 ton looked out to sea, but strain his eyes as 
 he would, he could not distinguish the vessel 
 he had ridden so far to meet. He turned 
 to his companion. 
 
 198 
 
A Maker of Nations. 199 
 
 “Cannot the sen or distinguish her?” the 
 little naan inquired. “ I can see her dis- 
 tinctly ; she lies out yonder.” 
 
 He pointed directly out to sea. 
 
 “No,” said Durrington ; “it’s no use, I 
 can’t make her out. If you are certain of 
 what you say, we had better go down to the 
 beach.” 
 
 “ You will find that she is there, senor,” 
 the man replied, and then led the way with 
 his queer shambling gait towards a small 
 path which eventually was to conduct them, 
 by a break-neck descent, to the only strip 
 of beach to be found along the coast for 
 upwards of fifty miles. They had scarcely 
 reached it, and were still panting after the 
 exertion it had entailed, when, to Durring- 
 ton’s surprise, a sudden flash of light came 
 from the sea, and a second later a rocket 
 soared into the air. 
 
 “You’re right, after all,” he said, for he 
 had been far from being convinced before. 
 “ She’s there, and yet even now I cannot 
 see her.” 
 
 He took from his pocket one of the blue 
 lights MacCartney had given him, and, bid- 
 ding Eodriguez hold his sombrero in such 
 a position as to keep ofi the wind, he lit 
 a match and applied it to the wick. In a 
 
200 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 moment the whole of the beach, the range 
 of cliffs behind and on either side of them, 
 the waves rolling in upon the sand, and even 
 the water itself far out to sea, was suffused 
 with a brilliant blue light. When this had 
 died away, Durrington sat down upon the 
 beach to await the coming of the boat. He 
 was not to be kept in suspense very long, for 
 he had scarcely finished his argument with 
 his companion as to the direction in which 
 the steamer was lying, when a red flare shone 
 out midway between shore and the place 
 where the rocket had gone up. A few 
 moments later a boat could be plainly seen 
 pulling towards them. When she had been 
 beached, Durrington went down to the water’s 
 edge to receive her. 
 
 “What is the name of your vessel?” he 
 inquired of the officer in charge. 
 
 “ The Ferdinand and Isabella, sir,” said a 
 voice from the boat. “ Do you come from 
 Mr. Spielman ? ” 
 
 “ Yes,” Durrington replied. “ I’ve a letter 
 for Captain Bennett which I must deliver 
 immediately. Can you take me off? ” 
 
 “ Certainly, sir,” answered the man. “ If 
 you will be kind enough to step into the 
 boat. I’ll put you aboard as quickly as 
 possible.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 201 
 
 Durrington clambered in over the bows, 
 and, when he had made his way aft, seated 
 himself in the stern sheet beside the officer 
 who had spoken to him. The boat proved a 
 roomy craft, painted white, and pulled by 
 four men. That the latter had been in- 
 structed to use all despatch was evident by 
 the way they bent to their oars as soon as 
 she was once more afloat. Durrington 
 looked at the black water around him, the 
 star-strewn sky overhead, and the dark hull 
 of the steamer, which he could now plainly 
 see ahead of him ; and as he did so he 
 thought of the time when he had himself 
 been a sailor, and of all that had happened 
 since. If only it were possible for him to 
 pick up Nita to-morrow and carry her out 
 on to the ocean, where they would be far 
 removed from plots and conspiracies and 
 revolutions, what a happy man he would 
 be ! As things were now, the very thought 
 that she loved him and had told him of 
 her love was a pain that cut the deeper, 
 for the reason that he had to combat it. 
 As he thought of her, he seemed to feel 
 once more her tender form in his arms, the 
 touch of his kiss upon her cheeks tingled his 
 lips, and the scent of her hair filled his 
 nostrils. He could hear her piteous cry as he 
 
202 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 left her, and his whole heart rebelled when 
 he thought that it was probable that his love 
 had come too late. Had it come earlier in 
 his life, what a different man he might have 
 been ! To distract himself, he turned to the 
 mate sitting beside him. 
 
 “ You are very punctual to-night,” he 
 said. “ They tell me you passed Madrid 
 Island at 7.45 yesterday.” 
 
 “We did,” the man replied. “ We’ve 
 made fair weather of it right down.” Then 
 he added significantly, “You may take it 
 from me that you want fine weather when 
 you’ve a cargo aboard such as we have this 
 trip. You should have seen them the first 
 three days out. It would have sickened an 
 emigrant skipper. They didn’t care whether 
 they lived or died, or what became of them. 
 They are a mob ! It beats me where Mr. 
 Spielman could have picked them up. 
 They’re an out and out bad crew, take ’em 
 all round — the sweepings of the sea fronts, 
 I should think.” 
 
 Durrington changed the question by in- 
 quiring what the other thought of the 
 weather. Before the mate had time to 
 reply, however, they were approaching the 
 steamer, and there were other things to be 
 thought of. The accommodation ladder was 
 
A Maker of Nations. 203 
 
 already down, and Durrington could see a 
 hundred curious faces peeping at him from 
 above the bulwarks. As soon as they were 
 properly alongside he sprang from the boat, 
 ran up the ladder, and was met at the top 
 by Captain Bennett himself. 
 
 “ Good-evening, Mr. Durrington,” the 
 latter said, as he recognised the man before 
 him. “ We’re up to time, I think you must 
 admit. Have you a message for me from 
 Mr. Spielman ? ” 
 
 “ I have,” Durrington replied. “ May I 
 see you alone ? ” 
 
 “ By all means,” answered the skipper. 
 “ Will you come this way ? ” 
 
 So saying, he led him along the deck, 
 through the crowd, then down the com- 
 panion ladder to the saloon below. 
 
 “We are berthing the officers of the 
 expedition aft,” the captain said, by way 
 of explaining the untidiness of the saloon. 
 “ I wish you could know, Mr. Durrington, 
 the trouble we’ve had this trip. First there 
 was the getting aboard of all these men 
 without the authorities knowing what we 
 were doing. Then there was the trouble 
 of locating them when we got them aboard. 
 After that we had to nurse them when they 
 were sick, and to keep them from fighting 
 
204 Maker of Nations. 
 
 when they were well. Now it looks as if we 
 are going to have difficulties in getting them 
 ashore. It’s my opinion the owners ought to 
 be well paid for the risk they are running.” 
 
 “ Very likely,” said Durrington coldly. 
 “ I’m sorry for you ; but, as you are aware, 
 it has nothing to do with me. I’ve got a 
 letter for you from Spielman, and he wants 
 an answer as soon as you can let him have 
 it. I was to deliver it into no other hands 
 but your own.” 
 
 So saying, he took from his pocket the 
 letter which Spielman had entrusted to his 
 care, and handed it to the Captain. The 
 latter took it as if it were something of 
 which he had good reason to be afraid, and 
 then, inviting Durrington to be seated, pro- 
 ceeded to open the letter. A close observer 
 would have noticed that what he found there 
 caused him considerable astonishment. More 
 than once as he read he looked over the top 
 of the paper at his guest, and as quickly 
 looked away again. As a matter of fact, 
 he had read it nearly four times before he 
 arrived at a proper understanding of it. 
 Then, with a grunt, he plaged it in his 
 pocket and turned to Durrington. 
 
 “You know what is in the letter, I 
 suppose ? ” he said. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 205 
 
 “ I know nothing whatever about it,” 
 Durrington replied. “ I had instructions 
 from Mr. Spielman to bring it to you, and 
 I have carried them out. I can tell you 
 no more.” 
 
 The captain stared at him incredulously. 
 It seemed to him impossible that the other 
 should be so ignorant of the dangerous 
 predicament in which he stood. 
 
 “ Well,” he said, “ I suppose it’s likely 
 you wouldn’t know. However, I’m sorry — 
 really sorry.” 
 
 “ I have no idea what you’re talking 
 about,” Durrington replied. “If I were 
 you I’d write an answer as soon as possible. 
 I shall have to start back for the estancia 
 with it as soon as it’s daylight.” 
 
 “Will you excuse me?” said the other a 
 moment later. “ I must make some in- 
 quiries among my officers before I can give 
 you the answer you require. I shan’t be 
 gone many minutes.” 
 
 With that he left the cabin, and made 
 his way up the companion-ladder to the 
 deck above. While he was absent Dur- 
 rington studied the appointments of the 
 saloon and speculated as to the captain’s 
 peculiar behaviour. The smell of the ship 
 was very soothing to him. It brought back 
 
2o6 a Maker of Nations. 
 
 a crowd of pleasant reminiscences. He would 
 have liked to go away in her without re- 
 turning to the estancia. That, however, 
 Vv^as impossible. 
 
 After an absence of about five minutes 
 the skipper returned to the saloon. 
 
 “ I find I shall not be able to get under 
 weigh for another hour, or possibly two,” he 
 said. “ I don’t like to trust the coast about 
 here any more than I can help. For that 
 reason I am going to wait until daylight. 
 Won’t you stay aboard ? You look tired, 
 and perhaps a little rest may set you up 
 again. We can put you ashore in plenty 
 of time.” 
 
 Durrington was only too glad to accept 
 the invitation. He was overcome with 
 fatigue. He had ridden upwards of eight}’’ 
 miles that day, and had passed through such 
 a variety of emotions, that it is no wonder 
 that the temptation to rest, if only for a 
 short time, was more than he could with- 
 stand. He accordingly accepted the captain’s 
 invitation, and was shown to a cabin forth- 
 with. Tumbling into a bunk, he stretched 
 himself out at full length, and almost before 
 his head had touched the pillow was fast 
 asleep. 
 
 When he woke again it was broad day- 
 
A Maker of Nations. 207 
 
 light ; the sun was shining throiigh the port- 
 hole, and a familiar noise greeted his ears. 
 At first, not being thoroughly awake, he 
 bestowed but little attention on his sur- 
 roundings. Then, in a sudden, he was 
 sitting up in his bunk. 
 
 “ Good heavens ! ” he cried, as he realised 
 what had happened, “ that’s the screw. 
 We are under weigh. The skipper has for- 
 gotten to call me after all. What the deuce 
 will Spielman say ? ” 
 
 He sprang out of his berth and ran to the 
 door. It was in vain, however, that he 
 tried to open it. He turned the handle 
 only to discover, to his horror, that the 
 door was locked. He had been trapped, 
 and was now a prisoner ! What was to be 
 done ? And who was at the bottom of this 
 treachery ? For the moment it did not 
 strike him that Spielman had had any 
 hand in it. 
 
 There was an electric bell above the wash- 
 stand. He pressed the button vigorously, 
 but no answer came to his summons. See- 
 ing that this was useless, he returned to 
 the door, upon which he kicked for some 
 seconds with all his strength. Such ener- 
 getic action stood him in better stead, for 
 he had not been kicking very long before 
 
2o8 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 he heard the sound of a footstep in the 
 saloon outside. Then a voice inquired, in 
 unparliamentary language, what he meant 
 by making such a fiendish noise ! He re- 
 plied that he desired to see the captain at 
 once. If he did not, he gave fair warning 
 that he intended to continue the perfor- 
 mance until he did. 
 
 “ What do ye want to see Captain Bennett 
 about?” asked the voice. “If it’s wanting 
 to be let out ye are, let me tell ye ye may 
 as well save yer breath to cool yer por- 
 ridge. We’ve our orders, and, by the Piper 
 that played before Moses, we’re going to 
 obey them. So drop yer shindy now, or 
 ’twill be the worse for ye.” 
 
 In a flash Durrington took in the whole 
 situation. Spielman had, probably through 
 Coralie’s agency, become aware of his affec- 
 tion for the President’s daughter, and also 
 that he was about to anticipate his inten- 
 tion of deserting them. The letter to 
 Bennett was simply an excuse to get him 
 out of the way and into custody on board 
 the Ferdinand and Isabella. Spielman had 
 traded on his affection for MacCartney in 
 order to lure him on board the boat; and 
 now that he was there, he was a prisoner. 
 He was ashamed of himself for having been 
 
A Maker of Nations. 209 
 
 so easily caught. But — and here a new 
 light broke in upon him. If Spielman had 
 thus openly declared himself his enemy, he, 
 Durrington, was surely absolved from any 
 allegiance he might hitherto have given 
 him. In that case he was free to go over 
 to the President if he pleased; Martinez 
 would give him a commission, and he might 
 become Nita’s defender in something more 
 than words. Since Spielman could treat 
 him in such a scurvy fashion, he would 
 show him what he could do. He would let 
 him see — but, and this was the humiliating 
 thought, after all what could he do? The 
 cabin door was securely fastened, the port- 
 hole was too small for him to get his head 
 through, much less his body. It would 
 appear, therefore, as if any attempt to escape 
 must be futile, and that his military en- 
 deavours must suffer accordingly. He called 
 to the man who had been outside a few 
 moments before, to know if he was still there. 
 
 “ I’m here, right enough,” the voice re- 
 plied, with the same mellifluous accent. 
 “ What is it ye want ? Bedad, ye’re as 
 full of wants as the Pedlar of Ballycorree, 
 and phwat he didn’t want wasn’t worth 
 asking for.” 
 
 “ Just take my compliments to the skipper, 
 
 o 
 
210 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 and ask him to be kind enough to spare me 
 a few moments’ conversation,” Durrington 
 replied. “ He can bring as many men as 
 he likes with him to make sure I don’t get 
 away. But speak to him I must. Hurry 
 up now, or you’ll find that I can begin on 
 the door again.” 
 
 “All right; I’ll tell him,” said the voice. 
 “ But I’d advise ye not to go kicking the 
 paintwork about any more, or ’twill be the 
 worse for ye. There’s such a thing as a 
 set of irons aboard this boat, let me tell 
 ye, and, bedad, if ye don’t behave yourself 
 a bit bether, we’ll have to be afther seeing 
 whether they fit the shape of yer pretty 
 little legs. So be steady now, there’s a 
 darlint, and wait till the skipper comes to 
 talk wid ye.” 
 
 Durrington made sure that the man had 
 taken himself ofi down the saloon, and then 
 went back to his bunk and sat down to wait 
 for the captain to put in an appearance. Ten 
 minutes later, he heard the sound of foot- 
 steps on the brass-bound steps of the com- 
 panion-ladder. They came closer, a key was 
 inserted in the lock, and immediately the 
 bolts shot back. When the door opened. 
 Captain Bennett entered the cabin. His 
 manner was now very different from what it 
 
A Maker of Nations. 21 1 
 
 had been on the previous evening. Before 
 he had opened the letter, Durrington was 
 the accredited agent of a man of whom he 
 stood in considerable awe. Now he was 
 the avowed enemy and prisoner of that man, 
 and it was necessary that he should be treated 
 accordingly. 
 
 “ Good morning. Captain Bennett,” said 
 Durrington, without rising. “ This is a nice 
 sort of a trick you have played upon me. 
 What is the meaning of it? ” 
 
 “ It means that you’re my prisoner, Mr. 
 Durrington,” the other replied briefly. 
 
 “ I am not so blind but that I can see 
 that,” said Durrington. “ What I want to 
 know is your reason for acting as you have 
 done ? ” 
 
 “ I have only acted on the instructions 
 contained in Mr. Spielman’s letter,” the other 
 replied. “ Whatever blame there is belongs 
 to him. I am not responsible. You must 
 look to him for an explanation.” 
 
 “ I shall certainly do so,” answered Dur- 
 rington. “ And how long am I to remain a 
 prisoner ? ” 
 
 “ Until I receive further orders,” the 
 captain answered. “How long that will be 
 I do not know.” 
 
 “ And if I attempt to escape ? ” 
 
212 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ If you attempt to escape, I am to shoot 
 you forthwith. I hope, for your own sake, 
 you won’t do that.” 
 
 “Shoot me, are you?” said Durrington. 
 “ Well, I must say that’s friendly of Spiel- 
 man, all things considered. He’ll find, 
 however, that two can play at that game. 
 Tell him so from me. You don’t mean that 
 I am to stay in this cabin altogether ? May 
 I not go on deck ? ” 
 
 “ I’m afraid not,” said the captain, shaking 
 his head. “ My orders are most imperative 
 on that point. If you give me your word 
 to keep quiet in here. I’ll make things as easy 
 and comfortable for you as I can ; but the door 
 must be kept locked, and if you attempt to 
 get out I shall know how to deal with you.” 
 
 “ If you mean by ‘ keeping quiet ’ not 
 kicking that door, or ringing that bell. I’ll 
 give you my word,” said Durrington. “ But 
 I warn you, my friend, if I can get out I will, 
 and you can’t blame me.” 
 
 “ No,” said the captain. “ In that case, 
 I shall blame myself for giving you the 
 opportunity. Is there anything you are 
 wanting just now ? ” 
 
 “You can send me in some cigars, if you 
 please,” said Durrington. “ Beyond that I 
 want nothing except to be left alone.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 213 
 
 Thereupon the captain withdrew, locking 
 the door carefully behind him. 
 
 Durrington’s meditations after the captain’s 
 visit were far from being agreeable. It was 
 as he had thought, then ; Spielman had 
 heard from Coralie how matters stood with 
 him, and had taken prompt steps to prevent 
 his doing him a mischief. As the result 
 of such action, he was a prisoner, and must 
 remain so as long as his enemy chose to 
 detain him. He paced up and down his 
 narrow cell like a caged beast ; then he 
 examined the door, only to find that it was 
 as safe as before ; after which he looked out 
 of his porthole, but only a waste of green 
 water confronted him there. However grandly 
 he might talk of escaping, such a thing 
 seemed almost, if not quite, out of the 
 question. 
 
 At seven o’clock he once more heard foot- 
 steps approaching his cabin. The key was 
 inserted in the lock, the door opened, and 
 an enormous individual with a shock of red 
 hair entered, carrying a tray upon which was 
 set out his breakfast. He endeavoured to 
 lure the man into conversation ; but he had 
 evidently received his instructions, and 
 refused to talk. He simply placed the tray 
 on the little wash-hand stand, and then with- 
 
214 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 drew, locking the door behind him as carefully 
 as the captain had done. Durrington had at 
 first entertained a wild idea that he might 
 spring upon this individual and, after he had 
 overpowered him, make his way into the 
 saloon, and hide himself somewhere until he 
 could make his escape altogether. One 
 moment’s consideration, however, showed him 
 the folly of this proceeding. In the first 
 place, he would be no better off if he did 
 get into the saloon, for he would be certain 
 to be captured and brought back. In the 
 second, he noticed, by looking out of the 
 door while the steward was putting the tray 
 down, that he had not come alone; two 
 stalwart sentries with rifles accompanied him, 
 and waited outside in case their assistance 
 should be required. 
 
 “ One thing is very certain,” he said to 
 himself, as he sipped his coffee and buttered 
 a ship’s biscuit ; “ they mean to keep me if 
 they can. It’s no use running any risks. 
 I shall have to wait my opportunity. 
 Precipitous action w'ould only spoil every- 
 thing.” 
 
 He had to remember that he was fighting, 
 not only for himself, but also for Nita, who 
 might stand in need of his assistance at any 
 moment. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 215 
 
 In this fashion, that day and the next 
 wore slowly on. At twelve o’clock luncheon 
 w^as brought to him, at five o’clock he had 
 his tea ; in the interval, he lay in his bunk 
 thinking over his position, and varying the 
 monotony of his imprisonment with occa- 
 sional walks up and down his cabin. It was 
 during one of these peregrinations that he 
 remembered something of importance. He 
 felt angry with himself for having forgotten 
 it so long. 
 
 Over and over again he, Spielman, and 
 MacCartney had discussed the question of 
 the landing of the troops from the steamer 
 at the Port. It is a recognised fact, I 
 believe, that the harbour of San Juan, the 
 principal port of the Eepublic of Constancia, 
 is one of the most difiicult and dangerous to 
 enter on the whole of the coast line of 
 South America. Knowing this, Spielman had 
 arranged with the captain that, as no pilot 
 would, of course, be available in the Port 
 itself, he should put in at Quirique, twenty 
 miles distant, and there pick up the man he 
 wanted. After that he was to cruise about 
 in the ofiing until the time should arrive for 
 him to make his appearance on the scene 
 of action. This item had been included in 
 Bennett’s list of instructions, and it was 
 
2i6 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 scarcely likely that it would have been altered 
 without Durrington’s knowledge. Here was 
 his opportunity, if he could only avail him- 
 self of it. But how was he to do so? He 
 turned it over and over in his mind, evolved 
 innumerable plots, but was eventually com- 
 pelled to put them all aside as useless. If 
 he could only manage to get out of his 
 cabin somehow, and to hide somewhere about 
 the time of their arrival ofi Quirique, it was 
 just possible he might be able to find an 
 opportunity of getting away. But he had to 
 remember that the soldiers were using the 
 saloon, and were gambling there morning, 
 noon, and night. Besides, in order to escape, 
 he must first open his door, which was locked 
 on the outside. And how was he to do that ? 
 He had to confess that this was a problem 
 that required some solving. 
 
 He approached the door, and, kneeling 
 down before it, examined it carefully. It was 
 of the usual pattern, neither stronger nor 
 weaker than its fellows. The lock was a 
 commonplace one, yet it was strong enough 
 to withstand any attempt on his part to force 
 it. If only he had a keyhole-saw, it was 
 possible he might be able to cut round it ; 
 but as he might Just as well have wished 
 for the moon, it struck him that it would be 
 
A Maker of Nations. 217 
 
 better if he were to use his energies in 
 thinking of something more practicable. But 
 was there nothing in his possession of which 
 he could make a saw ? He looked round 
 the cabin, and his eyes fell upon the knife 
 lying upon his plate. It possessed a long 
 thin blade, and a sharp point. Would it not 
 be possible, by making notches along the 
 edge of the blade, to utilise it for the 
 purpose? The idea seemed feasible. At 
 any rate, it was worth trying. But in that 
 case, what was he to say to the man who 
 brought his meals to him, and who would 
 be certain to notice that it was missing ? 
 He knew that to excite suspicion at this 
 juncture would be fatal to the success of his 
 plan. Eventually he decided to do what he 
 had often done before, that is to say, to play 
 a game of bluff. Taking out his own pocket- 
 knife, he opened it and placed it beside his 
 fork upon the plate. When the man appeared 
 with his supper, he asked him jocularly 
 whether he was afraid that, if he trusted 
 him with a knife, he would take his own 
 life? If not, why had he not brought him 
 one ? As he said this, he picked up his 
 own knife, wiped the blade carefully, and 
 returned it to his pocket. The natural 
 manner in which he did this allayed any 
 
2I8 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 suspicion the other might have felt, and he 
 left the cabin, never doubting that he had 
 failed to bring one in the first instance. 
 Durrington, who had been carefully watching 
 him during the time he was in the cabin, 
 noticed one significant detail. When he 
 had entered, he had pushed the door open 
 while he placed the tray upon the wash- 
 hand stand. As he went out again, he shut 
 it after him, and for this reason never saw 
 the reverse side. Here at least was some- 
 thing to go upon. 
 
 Having secured his knife, Durrington was 
 now in a position to carry out his plan. He 
 had to settle one point first, however. It 
 would not do to set to work too soon. When 
 was the steamer due to reach the little fishing 
 village where she was to pick up her pilot ? 
 The Eevolution was to become an accom- 
 plished fact on Thursday morning. It was 
 now Wednesday night. In all probability, 
 therefore, the steamer would touch at 
 Quirique between midnight and one o’clock. 
 In that case it would behove him to be ready 
 with his preparations by that time ; it was 
 now nearly nine ; he had therefore at least 
 three clear hours before him. 
 
 Seating himself by the door and placing his 
 knee against it in order that it should not 
 
A Maker of Nations. 219 
 
 rattle, Durrington commenced his work. It 
 was by no means an easy task he had set him- 
 self, for, in the first place, he had to be more 
 than careful that he made no noise ; in the 
 second he had to be still more cautious that 
 no sign of his work should be apparent to 
 anyone on the further side of the door. By 
 half-past ten he had cut two deep lines above 
 and below the lock, and was about to connect 
 them with another on the left hand of the 
 lock. His idea was to get as close to the 
 paint on the further side as he could without 
 being observed. Then when the time arrived, 
 all he would have to do would be to pull or 
 push out the lock and to seize his opportunity 
 and make his way on deck. He had only one 
 fear, and that was that the captain or someone 
 else might take it into their heads to pay him 
 a visit that evening. In that case they could 
 scarcely fail to discover what he had done as 
 soon as they pushed the key into the lock. 
 Fortunately, however, no one came, and by 
 midnight, though he had raised a crop of most 
 promising blisters on his hands, the task he 
 had set himself to do was safely accomplished. 
 All that remained now was to bide his time, 
 and to reach the deck unobserved. He had 
 carefully weighed all the pros and cons, and 
 had come to the conclusion that the odds 
 
220 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 were in his favour. In the first place the 
 skipper and his officers would be on the 
 bridge at the time, while the saloon itself 
 would, in all probability, be empty. Curiosity 
 to see the pilot and something of the country 
 in which they were about to serve, would 
 certainly, he felt, lead such as were not asleep 
 in their bunks up to the deck. Durrington, 
 having satisfied himself that everything was 
 in readiness, returned to his bunk and lay 
 down. Half an hour, an hour, and even an 
 hour and a half went by, and still the vessel 
 continued to plough her way through the 
 water. Then, just as he was wondering 
 whether he could have made a mistake in his 
 calculations, and was speculating as to 
 whether Spielman could have cancelled his 
 previous instructions, he heard the tinkle of 
 the telegraph from the bridge sound in the 
 engine-room. A moment later the screw 
 slowed down and eventually ceased to revolve. 
 Unfortunately for him his cabin was situated 
 on the port side of the vessel, so that he could 
 see nothing of what was going on. He 
 Judged, however, from the fact that they were 
 stationary, and also from the noise made by 
 the men in the saloon who were running 
 up the companion ladder, that they had 
 reached the place where they were to embark 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 221 
 
 the pilot. He knew that he must act now or 
 never. Turning up his coat collar and pulling 
 his hat down over his forehead, in order that 
 it should shade as much of his face as possible, 
 he approached the door, and took hold of 
 the handle. The next few minutes, he knew, 
 would decide his fate. 
 
 For a few moments he listened at the door, 
 but no sound came from the saloon. Then, 
 putting all his strength out for one great 
 exertion, he pulled at the look of the door. 
 He found that he had done his work even 
 better than he thought, for with a short, 
 sharp snap the piece he had undermined came 
 away from the remainder of the door, and he 
 was free. Throwing the lock into his bunk, 
 he hastened into the saloon. To his delight 
 it was empty. Then, pulling his hat still 
 further over his eyes, he ran up the com- 
 panion ladder, and stepped from the hatch 
 into the cool night air. He found the deck 
 crowded with men, who were leaning over 
 the starboard bulwark watching the approach 
 of a sailing boat which could be seen coming 
 towards them, heeling over under a press of 
 canvas. A mile or so distant the lights of the 
 village could be plainly distinguished. For 
 Nita’s sake he must attempt somehow to 
 reach them. If he could do it no other way. 
 
222 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 he must swim it. While he w'as considering 
 this point, the fishing boat, with the pilot on 
 board, came alongside. During the excite- 
 ment that followed, Durrington mounted the 
 bulwark, on the port side, and, throwing off 
 his coat and hat, prepared for his long swim. 
 It was a perilous undertaking, but he scarcely 
 gave it a thought. What he wanted to do 
 was to get ashore before the boat should 
 return with the news that he had escaped. 
 
 As it will be remembered, O’Donoghue was 
 stationed at Quirique, where he was to wait 
 for instructions before marching on to Qu6rida 
 and the capital. Durrington felt certain that 
 Spielman would not be likely to tell the latter 
 of his defection. The smallest things are 
 calculated to give rise to feelings of suspicion, 
 and Spielman was much too astute to allow it 
 to be supposed that one of his most trusted 
 officers had thought so little of his chance of 
 success as to prove unfaithful to him. This 
 being so, Durrington intended to make his 
 way to O’Donoghue’s quarters, where, to 
 account for his condition, he had resolved to 
 pretend that he had fallen overboard while 
 helping the pilot aboard. After that he 
 would requisition a horse and ride to the city, 
 where he w'ould seek out General Martinez, 
 confess everything to him, and at the same 
 
A Maker of Nations. 223 
 
 time warn him of the rising that was to take 
 place that morning. From that moment, if 
 Martinez would have him, he would throw in 
 his luck with the Presidential Army, and fight 
 Spielman with his own weapons. A thrill 
 went through him at the very thought of 
 such service. Would he not be fighting for 
 the girl he loved? 
 
 By this time the pilot had reached the 
 deck, and preparations were being made for 
 getting the steamer under weigh again. 
 Durrington realised that he had no time to 
 lose if he wished to get away unseen. If by 
 any chance they should descend to the saloon 
 and discover that his door was open, search 
 would immediately be made, and in all proba- 
 bility he would be captured before he could 
 get very far from the steamer. He accordingly 
 unhitched a rope from a belaying pin, and, 
 dropping it over the side, let himself down 
 until he reached the water. He had left his 
 boots in the cabin in order that he might 
 make no noise crossing the saloon, so that his 
 feet were unencumbered. Then, letting the 
 rope go, he gave a little push off from the 
 side, and started on his long swim. He was 
 famous in many countries for his prowess 
 in the water, and to-night it stood him 
 in good stead. When he had gone about 
 
224 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 fifty yards he turned, and looked back over 
 his shoulder at the vessel he was leaving. 
 The long black hull seemed to tower above 
 the water, while the lights resembled those of 
 a small village. He wondered how long it 
 would be before his absence would be dis- 
 covered, and what Bennett would say when 
 the news was brought to him. He chuckled 
 as the thought occurred to him, but a wave 
 coming along at that moment, turned his 
 mirth into splutters, and bade him have more 
 care for the matter in hand than to waste his 
 time in triumphing over his enemies. From 
 that moment he swam steadily on, steering a 
 direct course for the nearest point of land. 
 He was helped considerably by having the 
 tide with him, nevertheless it was no small 
 task he had set himself. More than once he 
 thought of sharks, but he trusted to his luck 
 to pull him through. If Fate had arranged 
 that they should have him, nothing he could 
 do would prevent it. If not, he argued 
 philosophically, it was waste of time to worry 
 about them. 
 
 At last he was so close that he could 
 plainly distinguish objects ashore. As he 
 did so his foot touched the sand. He 
 struggled up the beach, and, as soon as he 
 was beyond the reach of the waves, threw 
 
A Maker of Nations. 225 
 
 himself down upon the sand to rest for a few 
 moments before going further. Once again 
 his luck had triumphed, and now all that 
 remained was for him to make his way as 
 quickly as possible to O’Donoghue’s quarters, 
 and there get possession of a horse for his 
 ride to the capital. 
 
 \ 
 
 P 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 W HEN Durrington had somewhat re- 
 covered from the effect of his long 
 swim, he rose to his feet, and after a 
 
 hasty glance out to sea to make sure that 
 he was not being followed, prepared to set 
 off in search of O’Donoghue’s house. It 
 was the first time he had visited the 
 village of Quirique, but he had studied its 
 position so often upon the map that he 
 
 was as familiar with the locality in which 
 the estancia was situated as if he had lived 
 there all his life. Above all things, he 
 
 realised the necessity for haste. It only 
 wanted four hours to daybreak, and there 
 seemed an infinity of things to be done 
 
 before the sun should rise. He had, in 
 
 the first place, to find a horse, then to 
 reach the city, to make his confession to 
 Martinez, and — and — and what was to happen 
 after that was a point for the Commander- 
 in-Chief to decide. Having crossed what 
 remained of the beach, he began to climb 
 
 226 
 
A Maker of Nations. 227 
 
 the hill behind it. O’Donoghue’s estancia 
 was situated at the summit, and, as the 
 crow flies, was more than a mile distant 
 from the village. By the time he reached 
 it his feet were bleeding from the cuts in- 
 flicted by the reeds and stones through 
 and over which he had been obliged to 
 walk, and he was so weary that his legs 
 would scarcely support his body. 
 
 He found the house in the liveliest 
 confusion. O’Donoghue’s regiment had 
 arrived, and was encamped at the rear of 
 the building ; ofl&cers were passing in and 
 out continually, while stores and arms were 
 scattered about the verandah in reckless 
 confusion. O’Donoghue’s management of 
 affairs was exactly what Spielman had pre- 
 dicted it would be, and when Durrington 
 saw the confusion that existed, he was 
 able to appreciate to the full his late 
 chief’s wisdom in quartering the Irishman 
 where he did, instead of permitting him 
 to proceed direct either to the Capital or 
 the Port, as the other had at first desired. 
 So eager was everybody to give his own 
 opinion as to the manner in which the 
 war should be conducted, that Durrington’s 
 approach was not noticed until he was 
 within a few paces of the verandah. Then 
 
228 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 there was a cry of alarm, and one of 
 the officers standing beside the door drew 
 his sword as if he scented danger, and 
 were resolved to die fighting to the last. 
 
 “You can put up that toasting-fork,” 
 said Durrington, coolly, as he stepped on to 
 the tiled floor. “You will have quite enough 
 to do with it directly. In the meantime 
 where is Senor O’Donoghue ? Take me 
 to him,” 
 
 The young man, who in private life was 
 a large land owner in the neighbourhood, 
 was about to answer that he did not join 
 the Eevolutionary Party to wait upon scare- 
 crows. Luckily for himself, however, he 
 paused before he did so. There was some- 
 thing about this stranger, in spite of his 
 soiled clothes, that compelled respect. He 
 accordingly pointed to the room behind him, 
 and informed the new arrival that he would 
 find O’Donoghue there. Dick entered the 
 house and made his way to the apartment 
 in question. O’Donoghue was certainly 
 there. He had been there longer than was 
 good for him if the glasses and the bottles 
 upon the table could be taken as evidence. 
 Dick discovered him seated in a high- 
 backed chair, a large cigar in his mouth, 
 and a sombrero on the back of his head. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 229 
 
 He looked up as Dick entered, and seeing a 
 man dressed in a shirt and a pair of trousers, 
 both of which were wringing wet, asked in 
 a voice of thunder what the deuce he meant 
 by this intrusion? 
 
 “ Good evening, Mr. O’Donoghue,” said 
 Dick, seating himself on the corner of the 
 table as he spoke. “Is it possible you don’t 
 recognise me ? ” 
 
 “ Saints alive,” cried O’Donoghue, spring- 
 ing to his feet, “you don’t mean to tell 
 me it’s Dick Durrington ? My dear fellow, 
 what on earth is the meaning of this ? 
 You look as if you had been swimming 
 with your clothes on.” 
 
 “ That’s exactly what I have been doing,” 
 said Durrington. “ I have been swimming 
 for my life.” 
 
 “ But I thought you were with Spielman 
 at the estancia!” continued the astonished 
 Irishman. “ He told me the night before 
 last that he had sent you on business to 
 the Capital, and that he expected you back 
 yesterday.” 
 
 Dick smiled to himself. Then it was as 
 he supposed, Spielman had not spoken of 
 his defection to the future President of the 
 Eepublic. That was satisfactory hearing at 
 least. Now all he had to do was to play 
 
230 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 his hand carefully, and then, if luck con- 
 tinued to favour him, he would not only 
 be able to help his own cause, but to up- 
 set Spielman’s into the bargain. It required 
 all his presence of mind, however, to conceal 
 his satisfaction. 
 
 “ You can think yourself lucky that you 
 see me here at all,” said Durrington at 
 last. “ If I never come nearer my death 
 than I’ve been to-night I shall live to a 
 green old age.” 
 
 “ What do you mean ? ” asked the other. 
 Then seeing that Durrington’s teeth were 
 chattering with cold, he poured him out a 
 stiff glass of grog. The younger man drank 
 it, and replaced the tumbler upon the table. 
 Then he told his story. He described how, 
 immediately on his return from the Capital, 
 Spielman had sent him through the moun- 
 tains to meet the Ferdinand and Isabella 
 at Maraschino Point, in order to instruct 
 Bennett to pick up the pilot at Quirique, 
 and afterwards to cruise on and off the 
 Port until daybreak. 
 
 “ But in that case how do you come to 
 be here ? ” inquired O’Bonoghue. “ This 
 isn’t either Maraschino Point or the Port.” 
 
 “ I know that as well as you do,” re- 
 turned Durrington. “ Why don’t you listen 
 
A Maker of Nations. 231 
 
 instead of interrupting ? Spielman’s orders 
 were, that instead of returning to the 
 estancia 1 was to come as far as this place 
 in the steamer. I was then to land, call 
 upon you, borrow a horse, and afterwards 
 make my way to the Port as hard as I 
 could go. I was to tell you that Spielman 
 had changed his intentions as far as you 
 are concerned. What were his last instruc- 
 tions to you ? ” 
 
 “To hold this place until mid-day, and 
 then to move on to Querida, where I was 
 to remain until I received further orders. 
 What does he want me to do now ? ” 
 
 Durrington considered for a moment. The 
 whole success of the plan he had in his 
 mind depended upon the next few minutes. 
 If he hesitated or appeared uncertain the 
 game was lost. 
 
 “ Spielman has come to the conclusion 
 that you are worth something better than 
 to remain here,” he said. “ He would be 
 glad, therefore, if you will leave here as 
 early as possible this morning, and march 
 to Paquillo. He has two reasons for this. 
 In the first place he has heard that Martine25 
 has received information that we intend 
 occupying Querida. This being so, he is 
 dispatching a large number of troops to cut 
 
232 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 us off. They will eventually discover their 
 mistake, and having done so, will attempt to 
 join issue with the main body, which can 
 only be done via Paquillo. As soon as the 
 Port is in our hands MacCartney will dis- 
 patch as large a force as he can spare to 
 cut them off, but by that time you should 
 have got them well in hand. He has also 
 another reason for adopting this plan. If 
 you are successful at Querida, MacCartney 
 at the Port, and Larralde at the Capital, 
 you will be conveniently situated for making 
 your triumphal entry into the city when it 
 has capitulated.” 
 
 O’Donoghue’s eyes sparkled with delight. 
 He understood Durrington’s allusion, and 
 in his mind’s eye he pictured himself riding 
 through the streets as President of the 
 Eepublic. 
 
 “I’m delighted, delighted, me bhoy,” he 
 said, rubbing his hands together and chuck- 
 ling with satisfaction. “ If ye’d like to hear 
 the truth, Spielman was not altogether 
 pleasant to me when I saw him at the 
 estancia two nights ago, but I could not 
 help thinking that the divil had something 
 up his sleeve. And so this is what it was. 
 Bedad, it’s a pleasant surprise, and I’m a 
 new man. You mark my words, Durrington, 
 
A 'Maker of Nations. 233 
 
 me bhoy, I’ll make a new country of this 
 old rag box before I’ve done with it. Is it 
 remaining with me ye are when the war is 
 over ? If so, say but the word, and I’ll 
 find ye a comfortable little billet under 
 Government, in memory of the services ye 
 rendered Constanoia’s President when he 
 was in trouble. Meantime it’s hoping I am 
 that they’ll catch that old spalpeen Cavarro, 
 the old fox; he’s had his pickings these 
 many years, but now we’ll nail his pads to 
 the barn door.” 
 
 Durrington pricked up his ears. What was 
 this fresh conspiracy ? 
 
 “ You are referring to Spielman’s plot to 
 seize the President, I presume ? ” he said, in 
 a matter-of-fact tone, though his heart was 
 beating so violently that he felt sure the 
 other must hear it. 
 
 “ What else ? ” O’Donoghue replied. “ And 
 what’s more, he’ll do it ; for isn’t he sending 
 Gonsalvez and fifty men this morning to 
 capture him ? Begorra, I’d like to be there 
 to see the fun.” 
 
 Durrington made a mental note of this 
 intelligence. Gonsalvez he knew was at the 
 Capital, while the President and his family, 
 according to arrangements made while Dur- 
 rington was with them, would be spending a 
 
234 A Maker of Nations, 
 
 few days at the Chief of the State’s private 
 estancia in the mountains. It was more 
 imperative than ever that he should see 
 Martinez at once. 
 
 “ But you’ve not told me how ye come to 
 be in this distress ? ” 
 
 Precious as every moment was to him, 
 Durrington saw that there was nothing but to 
 continue his story. 
 
 “I’ve been through a chapter of accidents,” 
 he said. “ Bennett, as I told you just now, 
 was to put me ashore here. In the excite- 
 ment of the pilot’s arrival he forgot about 
 me, and got the ship under weigh again. 
 Probably he thought I had gone ashore in the 
 pilot’s boat, while in reality I was at the foot 
 of the companion ladder waiting for her to 
 come alongside again. She did not do so, 
 however, so, seeing that I must be either 
 carried on or swim for it, I whipped off my 
 coat and boots and plunged in, with the 
 result that I lost not only the ship, but the 
 boat as well. I got ashore at last not much 
 the worse for my ducking, and here I am. 
 If you can rig me out in some things in 
 which to ride to the city I shall be eternally 
 grateful.” 
 
 “ That I will right gladly, me bhoy,” said 
 O’Donoghue, who, under the influence of his 
 
A' Maker of Nations. 235 
 
 liquor and the excitement of the news Dur- 
 rington had brought, was generosity itself. 
 “Come along with me.” 
 
 The other followed him to a bedroom, 
 where a selection of clothes was laid out for 
 his inspection. He dressed himself in what 
 he thought fitted him best, and then returned 
 to the room where O’Donoghue was waiting 
 for him. 
 
 “ Now,” he said, “ I want you to find me a 
 horse ; the best you have, to carry me to the 
 city. It is imperative that I should be there 
 at least an hour before dawn.” 
 
 “ You shall have the best nag on the 
 place,” the other replied. “It’s riding for the 
 Government ye are, and it’s only fit and 
 proper that the President should see ye well 
 mounted.” 
 
 “ I thank your Excellency,” said Durring- 
 ton without a smile upon his face. “ I hope 
 you will remember my services when you are 
 in power.” 
 
 “Bedad, and I will, then,” said the Irish- 
 man. “ Ye shall be Prime Minister if ye 
 like. I’ve always had a fancy for ye, 
 Durrington, and I believe ye’d serve me 
 well.” 
 
 “ Try me,” said that gentleman, as he 
 pocketed a handful of the future Chief-of- 
 
236 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 the-State’s cigars. “ I’m no end of a swell 
 at politics. Between us we’ll make this 
 country the greatest on the Continent, by 
 Jove we will.” 
 
 “ We’ll do more than that,” cried O’Dono- 
 ghue enthusiastically. “ We’ll make it the 
 greatest country on earth.” 
 
 Then he shouted for a jpeon, and when the 
 man put in an appearance bade him saddle 
 Mazeppa, and bring her round without delay 
 on pain of his severest displeasure. While 
 the horse was being prepared, he poured 
 himself out another glass of grog, and, as he 
 sipped it, favoured Durrington with some 
 particulars of his family career. It was plain 
 that on this day of all others, when he should 
 have kept his brain clear, he was sinking his 
 wits in strong waters. That would not 
 matter, however, said Durrington to himself, 
 if only he could get him safely installed at 
 Pasquillo, and not at Querida. 
 
 “ That’s my horse,” said Durrington, as 
 the sound of hoofs was heard upon the stones 
 outside. “ What’s the time ? ” 
 
 “ A quarter past one,” said a man who 
 stood near. 
 
 “ And how far is it to the Port ? ” 
 
 “ Twenty-two miles,” answered O’Dono- 
 ghue. “ If you don’t spare the mare she 
 
A Maker of Nations. 237 
 
 will take you there in an hour and a half. 
 Now a stirrup cup before you go.” 
 
 On hearing this the men in the verandah 
 crowded into the room, and before he knew 
 where he was, Durrington found himself with 
 a glass in his hand, holding it aloft. 
 
 “ Gentlemen, a toast,” he cried. “ I ask 
 you to drink to the future President of the 
 Eepuhlic of Constancia.” 
 
 ^^Yiva! Viva; the future President of 
 Constancia,” cried the men, waving their 
 glasses in the air. 
 
 O’Donoghue alone stood silent. 
 
 “ Gentlemen, I thank you,” he said, when 
 they had finished, and silence was restored. 
 “ When the time arrives you will not find 
 me wanting in my duty, or neglectful of the 
 interests of those who have helped me.” 
 
 Then, accompanied by the men who were 
 as ready to acclaim him now that they saw he 
 was O’Donoghue’s friend, as they had been 
 to abuse him before, Durrington left the 
 house and went out to where the horse, a 
 magnificent chestnut, stood saddled. 
 
 “ Good-bye, your Excellency,” he said. 
 “ When next we meet our positions may 
 have changed somewhat.” 
 
 He flung himself into the saddle, took his 
 horse by the head, and sent him down the 
 
238 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 track at racing pace, to the accompaniment 
 of the Vivas of those he had left behind. 
 
 “ This is rather different from last night,” 
 he said to himself as he left the track which 
 turned off to the estancia, and joined the 
 main road leading to the port. “ I wonder 
 what Bennett and Spielman would say if 
 they could see me now ? The former is 
 biting his fingers, if I know anything of 
 him. However, it won’t do to laugh too 
 soon, we’re not out of the wood just yet. 
 I’ve all my work cut out for me during 
 the next four-and-twenty hours. Nita, my 
 darling, I wonder if you will ever know 
 what I am doing for you ? ” 
 
 Only to think of the woman he loved put 
 fresh spirit into him, and, as he raced down 
 the main street of the little village and 
 headed away due south for the Port, he 
 waved his hat in the air and shouted like 
 a schoolboy. 
 
 The village once behind him, he settled 
 down to a steady ten-mile gallop. The mare 
 was good and willing, and he was resolved on 
 no account to spare her. The news O’Dono- 
 ghue had told him concerning the President’s 
 proposed arrest dwarfed everything else. 
 Happen what might, he must reach the port 
 in time to warn Martinez, and then push on 
 
A Maker of Nations. 239 
 
 to save the others. He was too familiar with 
 the way in which successful Presidents are 
 apt to treat their fallen rivals to wish to 
 leave anything to chance. 
 
 The clocks were chiming a quarter to three 
 when he clattered into the city, and brought 
 his horse to a standstill before the iron gates 
 of General Martinez’ residence. He dis- 
 mounted and pulled the bell. Presently a 
 window opened, and a voice inquired who 
 it was that rang in such a fashion, and what 
 the matter was that occasioned it. 
 
 “Is that you. General Martinez?” Dur- 
 rington inquired. “ If so, I beg of you to 
 come down at once. It is I, Eichard Dur- 
 rington, and I must speak with you without 
 delay. I have serious news for you.” 
 
 Perhaps the General guessed what the news 
 was, for there was a different note in his 
 voice when he spoke again. 
 
 “ Eemain where you are until I come 
 down ! ” he said in the tone of one who 
 speaks with authority. “ I shall not be 
 many minutes.” 
 
 While he waited, Durrington had to 
 summon to his assistance all the patience at 
 his command. He was at fever heat, and it 
 hurt him like a touch of physical pain to think 
 how fast the precious moments were slipping 
 
240 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 by. He was not to be detained very long, 
 however, for presently the General put in 
 an appearance in the patio, accompanied by 
 his ancient servitor, Domingo. 
 
 “ Take Senor Durrington’s horse,” said 
 the former as soon as the gate was opened. 
 “ Now, Durrington, come with me and let 
 me hear your news. Is it so very bad ? ” 
 
 “ It could scarcely be worse,” Durrington 
 replied as he stepped into the courtyard. 
 “ I have been through such adventures to- 
 night as no man would believe.” 
 
 “ You are not wearing your own clothes, 
 I can see,” the General answered quietly. 
 “ But follow me to my study, and we will 
 discuss the position there.” With that he 
 led the way across the patio towards his 
 private sanctum. Once inside he struck a 
 match and lit the gas. Then, having closed 
 the door behind Durrington he bade the 
 latter be seated. How’ well the young man 
 remembered that room ! On one side stood 
 the bookcase at which he and Nita Cavarro 
 had more than once discussed the various 
 European authors whose works were con- 
 tained within. From where he sat now he 
 could see the dainty bindings of Alphonse 
 Daudet’s “ Tartarin de Tarascon,” the more 
 sombre cover of Tolstoi’s “Peace and War,” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 
 
 241 
 
 the blue and gold of Kipling’s “ Many In- 
 ventions,” and the ivory and white of Arnold’s 
 “ Light of Asia.” Each of these, widely 
 different as they were, had peculiar associa- 
 tions for him. But while he was in a 
 manner conscious of their presence, his 
 thoughts were centred on the matter in 
 hand. The General had seated himself at 
 the writing table, and was turning an in- 
 quiring face towards him. 
 
 “Now what have you to tell me ? ” he 
 asked almost sternly. “ Be as brief as 
 you can.” 
 
 This was the moment Durrington had 
 been dreading throughout his ride. How 
 was he to let his kind friend know the 
 traitor he had been ? He paused to con- 
 sider how he should begin. 
 
 The General noted his embarrassment. 
 He rose from his chair and approached him. 
 Placing his hand upon the other’s shoulder, 
 he dropped his military tone, and said in 
 his usual kindly voice : 
 
 “ My dear young friend, believe me I 
 know exactly what is on your mind. You 
 are here because your better nature has at 
 last triumphed. I have been watching the 
 struggle, and felt sure it would end like 
 this, and before very long.” 
 
242 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 Durrington looked up at him in amaze- 
 ment. What did he mean ? Was it pos- 
 sible that the General had been aware all 
 the time how he had been engaged? 
 
 “ What do you know about me ? ” he 
 asked feebly. 
 
 “ More than you suppose,” the other re- 
 plied. “ Would it surprise you if I told you 
 that I know of your connection with that no- 
 torious individual, Joseph Spielman ? Would 
 it astonish you to hear that I know all about 
 the Eevolution, the exact number of men 
 he is prepared to put into the field, or of 
 the reinforcements he expects on board the 
 Ferdinand and Isabella^ My dear Dur- 
 rington, I am afraid you have been adven- 
 turing your merchandise in a very poor 
 ship, and you may thank your good fortune 
 that you have come safely to shore before 
 she foundered.” 
 
 Never in the history of the world was 
 there a man more surprised than Durrington 
 at that moment. He had come prepared 
 to make a confession, and he found on 
 arrival that his guilt was already established. 
 
 “You know everything, then?” he said 
 dejectedly. 
 
 “Not everything,” the General replied. 
 “We know a great deal, but we have still 
 
A Maker of Nations. 243 
 
 much to learn. But it seems to me that it 
 is I who am telling the story, and it is 
 scarcely for that reason you have called me 
 up in the middle of the night. What have 
 you to tell me ? ” 
 
 Thus encouraged, Durrington revealed to 
 the General all he knew of Spielman’s plot. 
 Martinez listened without interrupting him, 
 but he occasionally made notes on a sheet 
 of paper. When the other had finished, he 
 was silent for upwards of a minute. 
 
 “ And what do you intend to do with 
 yourself ? ” he asked. “ You must know 
 that if you join us and fall into their hands, 
 they will show you no mercy.” 
 
 “ Yet I have come to offer my services,” 
 Durrington replied. “ If you will take me, 
 I will do all that is in my power to help 
 you. I must figure in your eyes as a 
 traitor both to them and to you, but I 
 think, if you will give me a trial, you will 
 have no cause to complain of any lack of 
 zeal. Whatever my fate may be, I meet 
 it with my eyes open.” 
 
 The General vouchsafed no answer to this 
 speech for a moment. 
 
 “ And have you any particular request, 
 any condition to make ? ” 
 
 “ I have only one desire,” Durrington replied 
 
244 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ And what is that ? ” asked the other. 
 
 “ That you will permit me to go to the 
 rescue of the President and his daughter,” 
 he said. “ I should like to show them that 
 I can offer them some return for the kind- 
 ness they showed to me.” 
 
 “ You shall certainly go,” was the reply. 
 “ But I warn you you will probably be 
 killed.” 
 
 He rang the bell upon his table, and, 
 when Domingo appeared to answer it, bade 
 him request one of his aides-de-camp to 
 come to him. A moment later, a tall, good- 
 looking young fellow made his appearance. 
 The General received him, standing by 
 his table. 
 
 “ Hasten to the Fort at once,” he said ; 
 “ inform General Montar jo that I have re- 
 ceived an intimation to the effect that an 
 attempt will be made by the Eevolutionists 
 to seize the city at daybreak. Bid him 
 carry out the instructions I gave him yester- 
 day afternoon. Let the boom be drawn 
 across the mouth of the harbour, and say 
 that I expect the Ferdinand and Isabella to 
 put in an appearance shortly before daybreak. 
 When she does, let a shot be fired across 
 her bows to warn her to keep out in the 
 offing. Telegraph to the Capital that war 
 
A Maker of Nations. 245 
 
 has commenced, and in case the enemy 
 should have cut the lines, dispatch Perez on 
 a fast horse to Iglesias. See to these things 
 at once, and report to me at Headquarters 
 in an hour. Is Manuel there ? ” 
 
 “ Yes, sir,” the aide-de-camp replied. 
 
 “ Then send him to me at once, and be 
 off yourself.” 
 
 The officer saluted and withdrew. When 
 he had disappeared, another aide-de-camp 
 entered the room. 
 
 “Hasten to General MacNulty,” said the 
 Commander-in-Chief, “ and tell him to 
 parade in the Plaza Mayor within a quarter 
 of an hour. Inform Colonel Calzado that I 
 desire him to mount a battery at the 
 southern end of the Calle de la Indepen- 
 dencia and another at the juncture of the 
 Paseo de Sta. Engracia with the Plaza de 
 Cataluna. Then go on to the Commissary 
 of Police and tell him that the arrests of 
 which I spoke to him yesterday must be 
 effected within an hour, and the men con- 
 veyed to the Fort and confined there until 
 I can come to examine them. Dispatch an 
 orderly to Borgona to take up his position 
 at Aracena, and another to Barrios to be 
 prepared to support him. I will attend to 
 the other details myself.” 
 
246 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 When the door had closed behind the 
 officer, Martinez turned to Durrington. 
 
 “ I don’t think they will find us unpre- 
 pared,” he said. “I fancy it will be an un- 
 pleasant surprise for Mr. Spielman. And 
 now, if you are really desirous of going to 
 the President’s rescue, I fancy you had 
 better be off.” 
 
 “I will go this instant,” said Durrington. 
 “ I have wasted too much time already, and 
 every minute is of inestimable value.” 
 
 Martinez looked at him keenly. Durring- 
 ton felt as if those piercing grey eyes were 
 looking into his very brain. 
 
 “You shall go,” he said. “And I will 
 give you a dozen of my best troopers to 
 accompany you. If I could spare you 
 more, you should have them, but at present 
 every man is of value.” 
 
 Bidding Durrington remain where he was, 
 he went out of the room but returned in a 
 few moments. 
 
 “ I have given the necessary instructions,” 
 he said. “ A horse will be found for you, 
 and your escort will be here in five minutes. 
 In the meantime you had better partake of 
 some refreshment. You will not get any- 
 thing until you reach your destination. 
 Pray God you may be in time.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 247 
 
 “ Amen to that,” said Durrington solemnly. 
 
 He accompanied the General into an ad- 
 joining apartment, where a repast had already 
 been spread for him. He found on reaching 
 it, however, that he was far too excited to 
 eat. The thought of Nita’s danger lay upon 
 his heart like lead. Even now, Gonsalvez 
 was probably on the road. In four hours he 
 
 would be there, and then ! Durrington 
 
 felt a clammy sweat break out upon his 
 forehead as he thought of what might pos- 
 sibly happen then. He rose from the chair 
 in which he had been sitting. 
 
 “ I cannot eat anything,” he said. “It is 
 impossible. Will those men never be ready ? ” 
 
 The General looked at him with what 
 was almost a pitying smile. 
 
 “ My friend,” he said, “ you can under- 
 stand something now of what our anxiety 
 has been of late.” 
 
 Durrington did not reply. He was trying 
 to think, and never before had he found it 
 more difficult to collect his thoughts. At 
 last he found his voice. 
 
 “ I want you to answer me a question, 
 General,” he said; “as man to man, I want 
 you to tell me how you discovered my con- 
 nection with this wretched business. You 
 did not know it when I was your guest ? ” 
 
248 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ I was not certain,” the General replied. 
 “ I had my suspicions, however. It was a 
 good thing for you, Durrington, that I liked 
 you from the first. I could see that you 
 were ashamed of the part you were playing, 
 and that you wished that you were out of 
 it. However, by the service you have now 
 rendered us, you have amply atoned for the 
 trouble you and your friends have caused.” 
 
 “ I don’t know what you must think of 
 me,” the young man replied. “ I seem to 
 be a traitor to every side.” 
 
 “ We will not discuss that now ; we shall 
 have plenty of opportunity later on. If I 
 am not mistaken, here are your horses. It is 
 time for you to start. You know the way? ” 
 Durrington nodded. 
 
 “ Go out of the city by the Paseo de la 
 Reforma, head due west, leaving the Capital 
 on the right,” he said. “ Cross the Parana 
 River at Atooha, and then go straight on 
 to the mountains. Is not that right ? ” 
 
 “ Quite right,” the General replied. “ Now 
 be off, and ma}?' good luck go with you ! ” 
 Durrington, however, did not move for a 
 moment. He had a question to put that 
 was more painful than any other. 
 
 “ One last question,” he said. “ Does the 
 President know what I am ? ” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 249 
 
 “ He knows everything,” the General re- 
 plied. “ And, despite that fact, he remains 
 your friend.” 
 
 “ And — and his daughter ? ” 
 
 “ She knows nothing.” 
 
 “ Thank Gcd ! Good-bye, General Mar- 
 tinez. It is just possible we may never meet 
 again. If I should be killed, I hope you will 
 believe that I shall have gone to my death 
 trying to do my duty.” 
 
 “ Do your duty,” said the General, “ and 
 leave the rest to Providence. Tell the 
 President he must communicate with me if 
 possible, but on no account must he return 
 to the Capital until I send him word. I 
 shall issue proclamations in his name, and 
 allow it to be supposed that he is still 
 resident at the Palace. But he, himself, 
 must not put in an appearance until order 
 is completely restored. Will you remember 
 that ? ” 
 
 “ I will be sure to tell him,” said Durring- 
 ton simply. Then he made his way into the 
 street, where his troopers were awaiting him. 
 The General said a few brief words to them, 
 shook hands with him, and a moment 
 later the little company was clattering down 
 the street. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 W HEN Durrington had once turned his 
 back on the city, he made his escort 
 put its best foot foremost. He explained 
 to them in no measured terms that if they 
 wished to rescue their beloved President 
 from his position of danger, they had no 
 time to spare, still less to waste ; and as 
 they had already been informed as to the 
 object of the expedition, they were quite able 
 to agree with him upon this point. Accord- 
 ingly the active little troop horses were 
 urged to their utmost, and right nobly they 
 responded to the call. Mile after mile 
 dropped behind them, and, with each, Dur- 
 rington felt his spirits rising. If by any 
 happy chance Gonsalvez had been prevented 
 from getting off as quickly as he had intended, 
 it was just possible they might still be in 
 time. If not, well, Durrington felt in that 
 case he must trust to the luck which had 
 already stood him in such good stead, to grant 
 him the success he was so anxious to achieve. 
 
 250 
 
A Maker of Nations. 251 
 
 For the greater part of the way Durrington 
 rode in advance of his troop. Despite the 
 fact that within the last five hours he had 
 swum a mile, ridden twenty-two, and w'as 
 now embarking upon another thirty-five, he 
 felt as fresh as if he had only just started. 
 By this time day had broken, and a faint 
 flush in the eastern heavens heralded the 
 rising of the sun. As he turned in his saddle 
 and looked back at it, the boom of a gun 
 reached his ears. It was follow'ed by another 
 and yet another. What did it mean? He 
 settled it in his own mind that it was the 
 gun warning the Ferdinand and Isabella 
 not to enter the harbour, and, as he dis- 
 covered later, this was the case. 
 
 An hour after starting they crossed the 
 Parana Eiver at Atocha. The stream was in 
 full flood, and the span from bank to bank 
 was upwards of a hundred yards. Half-way 
 across an adventure occurred, which not only 
 delayed the expedition, but came perilously 
 near costing one of the little band his life. 
 In an ordinary season the water of the ford 
 was scarcely more than six inches deep : now 
 it was nearer six feet. The current, more- 
 over, was running like a mill sluice. The 
 party were half-way across when one of the 
 horses swerved to avoid a large log which 
 
252 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 was drifting down stream, stumbled in a hole, 
 and, trying to recover itself, lost its balance 
 altogether, and disappeared below the surface, 
 carrying the trooper with it. For fully five 
 seconds not a sign of the man could be 
 seen ; then both horse and rider, separated 
 by this time, however, reappeared twenty 
 or thirty yards down stream. Durrington, 
 who had not witnessed the accident, turned 
 on hearing the sergeant call to him, and, 
 when he discovered what had occurred, 
 forced his own horse back into the stream 
 again, and set off in pursuit. He was only 
 just in time, for the river below the ford was 
 fully twenty feet deep, and the man, attired 
 as he was in his heavy uniform, hampered 
 with his sword and carbine, could not have 
 continued the struggle much longer. Calling 
 to him not to give in, Durrington passed 
 him, and then turned his horse for the shore, 
 at the same time bidding the man catch hold 
 of the animal’s tail. 
 
 The other did so, and with this assistance 
 managed to reach the bank. His own charger 
 had come to shore fifty or sixty yards further 
 down, and was now standing on the bank 
 trembling with fear, but otherwise none the 
 worse for his ducking. 
 
 “You have had a narrow escape, my 
 
A Maker of Nations. 253 
 
 friend,” said Dnrrington, as the trooper sat 
 himself down on the bank to collect his wits 
 a little. “ This will be a lesson to you to 
 keep your horse well in hand when you are 
 fording a stream.” 
 
 Leaving one of his comrades with him to 
 bring him on when he was sufficiently 
 recovered, Durrington spurred along the 
 hank to where the main body was waiting. 
 Then he gave the order to advance once 
 more. He had scarcely done so before one 
 of his men drew his attention to a number 
 of confused marks upon the soft ground at 
 the edge of the ford. 
 
 “ Senor,” said the man, “ if you will cast 
 your eyes upon these tracks, you will see 
 that another body of horsemen has gone this 
 way within an hour,” 
 
 At first Durrington was inclined to pooh- 
 pooh the suggestion; but when the sergeant 
 explained to him that the man in question 
 was famous in the regiment for his skill in 
 picking out tracks, and stated that he had 
 often rendered the authorities valuable assist- 
 ance in this respect, he was induced to pay 
 more attention to it, 
 
 “ Whose tracks do you think they are, 
 then ? ” he inquired. 
 
 The man shook his head. 
 
254 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “It is impossible to say, senor,” he ex- 
 plained. “It is certain there were many — 
 perhaps thirty, possibly fifty. They were not 
 natives, for they had horses, not ponies. 
 They were not soldiers of the Government, 
 for, see, their horses are not shod with 
 Government shoes. While they were cross- 
 ing the ford one man stood over there. His 
 horse was a little lame, you can see that by 
 the way he stepped off afterwards. They travel 
 with loaded carbines, and one of them fired 
 his ofi while they were in the water.” 
 
 “ How do you know that ? ” Durrington 
 inquired. 
 
 In answer the man dismounted, and picked 
 up something lying among the stones by the 
 water’s edge. He handed it to Durrington. 
 It proved to be an empty cartridge case. The 
 latter examined it carefully. Here at least 
 was indisputable evidence, not only of the 
 other party’s existence, but also of their 
 identity. The cartridge was of the particular 
 kind that Durrington had himself served out 
 to the Kevolutionists. Spielman had pur- 
 chased the stock from a Birmingham manu- 
 facturer, and another of the same description 
 could not have been found in the length of 
 Southern America. By this time he felt cer- 
 tain in his own mind that the band was none 
 
A Maker of Nations. 255 
 
 other than that commanded by Gonsalvez. 
 If that were so, one thing was self-evident : 
 they were still ahead. But how far ? That 
 was what he had to find out. Calling his 
 men together, he gave the order to continue 
 their march. In front of them the mountains 
 could now be seen, at the foot of which was 
 the President’s estancia. Durrington would 
 have given all he possessed in the world to 
 have been able to reach the place before 
 the men whose tracks he had so lately seen. 
 Times out of number he turned to his escort 
 and bade them make their horses travel 
 faster. To his impatient mind, they seemed 
 to be crawling like so many snails, though 
 some of the unfortunate animals were flecked 
 with foam and scored with much spurring. 
 It is doubtful whether they had ever travelled 
 so great a distance at such a pace before. 
 
 Leaving the plain across which they had 
 been making their way ever since they left 
 the ford, they approached a heavily-timbered 
 stretch of jungle. Durrington, as usual, was 
 some fifty or sixty yards in advance of his 
 company when they reached it, and having 
 already turned the corner of the track, he was 
 hidden from their sight by undergrowth. It 
 was perhaps as well that the men were not 
 close behind him, for, had they been, there is 
 
256 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 no telling what might have happened. As I 
 have said, the undergrowth at this particular 
 spot was unusually thick, but directly before 
 him, where the road widened out, was a large 
 open space, perhaps a hundred yards in length 
 by fifty or sixty in width, upon which no trees 
 or shrubs grew. Durrington, however, had 
 only been able to obtain a glimpse of this 
 through the bushes ; in another moment he 
 would have been in the glade itself. It was 
 fortunate for him that he checked himself in 
 time, for he had scarcely covered twice his 
 horses’ length when he saw, to his amaze- 
 ment, that another large party was already 
 assembled there. They had dismounted from 
 their horses, which were standing listlessly 
 about at a short distance, and were grouped 
 round a fire at which one of their number 
 was engaged in cooking. Here, without a 
 doubt, were the creators of the tracks which 
 the trooper had discovered at the Parana 
 Ford. No sooner had Durrington’s eyes fallen 
 upon them than he pulled his horse to a 
 standstill. In another moment he had 
 wheeled his horse and was retracing his steps 
 to meet his companions. Holding up his 
 hand, he signed to them to halt and turn 
 back. They did so, not, however, without 
 expressions of wonder upon their faces. For 
 
A Maker of Nations, 257 
 
 the moment, remembering how eager he was 
 to push forward, they thought he had taken 
 leave of his senses. When they were safely 
 out of earshot of the men in the glade, he 
 halted them once more. 
 
 “ I have discovered,” he said, “ that the 
 party whose tracks Antonio marked at the 
 Parana Ford are resting in an open space 
 a quarter of a mile or so down the track 
 there.” 
 
 “ What does the senor intend to do ? ” 
 inquired the grey -haired sergeant. “We are 
 only thirteen, and they are fifty ; we could 
 not shoot them all.” 
 
 Durrington shook his head. 
 
 “I don’t want to shoot any of them, if we 
 can help it,” he said. “ What I propose is, 
 that we make our way through the jungle, 
 and take up our position among the canes at 
 the further end. One of us will then remain 
 with the horses, while the rest, at a signal 
 from me, will shoot as many of their animals 
 as possible. The remainder will in all proba- 
 bility then stampede, and in so doing we shall 
 destroy their only means of following us.” 
 
 The wisdom of the course commended 
 itself to the party, and, Durrington giving 
 the word of command, they proceeded into 
 the jungle, and forced their way to the point 
 
 R 
 
258 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 proposed, where eleven of the men dismounted, 
 leaving one in charge of the horses. 
 
 “ Give me your carbine and some cart- 
 ridges,” Durrington whispered to the man 
 who remained. “ Be very careful that when 
 their animals stampede, ours do not take 
 flight with them.” 
 
 “ You may be sure that I will take care of 
 that, senor,” the man replied ; and then the 
 party followed their leader to the place he had 
 chosen. It was admirably adapted for the 
 purpose he had in view. While they were 
 completely hidden by the brushwood, the 
 troopers were still able to command the glade. 
 Durrington looked on the line of faces as they 
 laid down and pushed their cartridges into 
 the breeches of their rifles. He was not 
 afraid that they would render any but a good 
 account of themselves. 
 
 “ Let each choose the animal in front of 
 him, and fire when I give the word of 
 command,” he said. “ If any man should 
 have time to get in a second shot, let 
 him do so, and then stand by to fall back 
 on our horses.” 
 
 Gonsalvez’ party were still unaware that 
 their enemies were so close to them. Snatches 
 of song and laughter came from near the camp 
 fire, and even the horses nibbled at the grass, 
 
A Maker of Nations. 259 
 
 unconscious of the twelve rifles levelled at 
 them from the bush near which they fed. 
 
 Durrington gave the word of command, 
 and almost simultaneously twelve rifles rang 
 out and twelve horses fell to the ground. 
 For a moment there was a scene of wild 
 confusion ; then such animals as remained 
 gave a snort of terror, and stampeded into 
 the forest on the other side. 
 
 “ To your horses ! ” cried Durrington, and 
 immediately the men sprang up from the 
 ground, and ran to the place where their 
 animals were standing. In less time than it 
 takes to tell, they had mounted and were 
 following their leader through the forest, to a 
 point where they could cut the road again. 
 Durrington was delighted at the success which 
 had attended his endeavour. Fortune had 
 played into his hands, and now it looked as 
 if he would be able to reach the estancia and 
 get the President and the ladies away, without 
 any fear of being overtaken. Kefreshed by 
 the short rest, the horses seemed all the more 
 eager to push forward, and they had put 
 another five miles behind them before the men 
 drew rein once more. They were now with- 
 in measurable distance of their goal, and, if 
 all went well, another hour would see 
 them there. 
 
26 o 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 Ten miles from the President’s estancia the 
 jungle country ends, and long rolling plains, 
 interspersed with small belts of timber, lead 
 up to the foot of the mountains. Across 
 these plains they sped, spurring their tired 
 horses on to fresh efforts. It was a race 
 for life and for the welfare of their country, 
 and each man, apart from any consideration 
 of his own personal safety, felt that 
 his honour demanded that he should do 
 his best. 
 
 At last, after what seemed an eternity, they 
 saw before them the estancia. It was a 
 building of the old-fashioned type, long, low, 
 and commodious, designed for use and com- 
 fort, not for show. Like many others of the 
 same class, it was built in the form of a 
 square, and had a deep verandah on every 
 side. To the President it had always been a 
 pleasurable retreat, and in consequence he 
 entertained a great affection for the place. 
 Never had it entered his head that it was 
 there that he would some day have his life 
 attempted, and for the first time since he had 
 been elected Chief of the State. 
 
 The ground on either side of the house, 
 and for some distance before it, was unen- 
 cumbered by either undergrowth or trees; 
 behind it, at a distance of perhaps a mile, 
 
A Maker of Nations. 261 
 
 rose tlie mountains, the highest peaks of 
 which were crowned with eternal snow. 
 
 It was a tired little band that ascended the 
 gradual slope that led to the house. Dur- 
 rington seemed suddenly struck dumb. He 
 could scarcely believe that in a few minutes 
 he would be standing face to face with Nita 
 Cavarro once more. When he had said 
 good-bye to her at the Palace at Constancia, 
 he had thought it was for ever. How little 
 he had dreamed that within a few days he 
 would be with her once more, protecting her 
 from the very men who had at one time 
 been his friends ! Of Coralie he scarcely 
 thought at all. Strange to say, in a measure 
 he was almost grateful to her for the 
 mischief she had wrought. Had she not 
 taken such energetic steps to get him into 
 trouble, in all probability he would have 
 left Spielman on friendly terms ; in that 
 case the Eevolution would have proceeded 
 as if he had not been concerned in it, and 
 Nita and her father would have fallen 
 victims to Gonsalvez’ attempt to take them 
 prisoners. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 “ l/fE. DUEEINGTON ! ” 
 
 iVi “Dick!” 
 
 The two ladies seated in the verandah 
 sprang to their feet with exclamations of 
 astonishment. Though both had been 
 thinking of him that morning, he was 
 certainly the last man either of them 
 expected to see. Had it been possible to 
 look into their minds, it would have been 
 found that, though in many things their 
 sympathies ran in similar lines, in this 
 particular instance they were as widely 
 separated as the Poles. While to one of 
 them the dusty, haggard-faced man sitting 
 on the horse before them was the most 
 desired object in the world, to the other he 
 was the one person of all mankind she least 
 desired to see. 
 
 Durrington dismounted, and reeled, rather 
 than walked, up the steps into the verandah. 
 
 “ Where is His Excellency ? ” he inquired, 
 262 
 
A Maker of Nations. 263 
 
 in a voice that he scarcely recognised as his 
 own. “ I must see him at once.” 
 
 “ You bring bad news ? ” said Nita, with 
 a look of anxiety on her face as she moved 
 towards him with outstretched hands. 
 “ What is it ? ” 
 
 Before he answered, Dick glanced at 
 Coralie’s face. It was deathly pale, and he 
 noticed that she was holding on to the rail 
 of the verandah with so tight a grip that her 
 hands were white with the strain placed 
 upon them. 
 
 “ I bring the worst possible news,” he 
 answered. “ I must see him without a 
 moment’s delay. For Heaven’s sake take 
 me to him ! ” 
 
 He gave the order to his troopers to 
 dismount, and then followed the woman he 
 loved into the house. In a dreamy fashion 
 he was conscious of the neatness of her 
 attire, of the w'hiteness of her sleeves and 
 bodice, of the beautiful symmetry of her 
 figure, and of the neat coil of black hair 
 behind her well - poised head. He noticed 
 these things, but only as one becomes aware 
 of things in a dream. It was consistent 
 with her character that she thought of her 
 father before herself. The man she loved, 
 and whom she thought she had said good- 
 
264 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 bye to for ever that evening in the Palace 
 garden at Constanoia, had come back to her 
 like one from the dead. Her whole heart 
 went out to him in longing, hut she saw 
 from his face this was no time for love- 
 making. She understood in which direction 
 his duty lay, and honoured the man that he 
 could think of it before herself. 
 
 The President knew his true character ; 
 Nita did not. To the former he could only 
 appear in the light of one who had been a 
 traitor,mot only to his newly -made friends, but 
 also to the cause he had agreed to serve. 
 
 Having entered the house, she led him 
 to her father’s study. It was a room the 
 President loved ; the same, indeed, in which 
 he had been persuaded to accept the position 
 he had now so long occupied with dis- 
 tinction. To her surprise, however, he was 
 not there. She had expected to find him, 
 so she explained afterwards, seated at his 
 writing-table; and when she saw that he 
 was not there, she turned with a frightened 
 look to her lover. 
 
 “ Dick,” she said, “ you would not be 
 here with those troopers unless something 
 terrible were the matter. You say you have 
 bad news for my father. What is it ? Will 
 you not tell me? I can be brave.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 265 
 
 “I have come to tell your father that 
 the Eevolution he feared has become an 
 accomplished fact, and that a party of men 
 are even now on their way here to endeavour 
 to effect his capture.” 
 
 “ To capture my father ? ” she inquired, 
 as if the very idea were incomprehensible 
 to her. “ They would never dare to do such 
 a thing. I cannot believe that.” 
 
 Durrington looked at the girl. Her cheeks 
 were flushed, and her eyes sparkled ; then, 
 in a moment, she was as calm and collected 
 as ever. She glanced at the vacant chair 
 before the table, and then at Durrington. 
 
 “ This news will grieve him terribly. He 
 has believed in the people so implicitly.” 
 
 While she was speaking, the President 
 entered the room. 
 
 “ Senor Durrington ! ” he said in some 
 surprise, as he saw who his visitor was. “ I 
 did not expect to see you here. Pray, when 
 did you arrive ? ” 
 
 “Five minutes ago,” the other answered. 
 “I have come from General Martinez with 
 some bad news for you.” 
 
 He guessed what that news must be. 
 
 “ Then the Eevolution has begun, after 
 all,” he said. “ My fears were not ground- 
 less, as Martinez tried to make me believe ! ” 
 
266 
 
 A Maker of Nations, 
 
 “ It commenced at daybreak this morning,” 
 Durrington replied. “ When I left, the 
 General was taking all the necessary pre- 
 cautions to ensure the safety of the Port.” 
 
 “Do I understand you to say that you 
 have come from General Martinez this 
 morning ? ” the President enquired. 
 
 Durrington guessed what was passing in 
 his mind. 
 
 “From General Martinez, your Excellency,” 
 he said. “ I warned him before daybreak of 
 what was about to take place, and I also 
 informed him that I had learnt an attempt 
 was to be made to effect your capture during 
 the day.” 
 
 “ Sir, you must be mistaken,” the Presi- 
 dent answered. “ I am sure you must be in 
 error. I have done my best for the people, 
 and I believe they love me. Why, there- 
 fore, should they seek to arrest me?” 
 
 “ Because, father,” said his daughter, “the 
 men who are making this trouble hate you, 
 and want to get you out of the way so that 
 they may succeed in their wickedness.” 
 
 The old man turned from his daughter to 
 Durrington. 
 
 “ And you have come from the Port to 
 save me ? ” 
 
 “ Please God. I was to implore your 
 
A Maker of Nations. 267 
 
 Excellency to leave here at once, and to 
 install yourself in a place of safety until the 
 Cominander-in-Chief has reduced the affairs 
 of the country to something like order. I 
 beg your Excellency to command that horses 
 may be saddled at once. There is no time 
 to lose. Gonsalvez and fifty men are on 
 their way now. Fortunately, I was enabled 
 to delay their progress for a time, but we 
 must run no risk.” 
 
 “ Did you say Gonsalvez ?” said the Presi- 
 dent, with a heavy sigh ; and when Durrington 
 had answered in the affirmative, he con- 
 tinued : “ Gonsalvez — the man I have so often 
 helped; w^hom I have treated with continual 
 kindness ; who owes everything he has to 
 me ! Oh, Judas ! Judas 1 ” 
 
 Even at this moment — one of, if not the 
 most bitter of his life — the President did 
 not think of himself, but of the man who 
 was endeavouring to repay the benefits he 
 had received with treachery. 
 
 “Well, well, Mr. Durrington,” he said at 
 last, “it appears that I am not a good judge 
 of character, after all, and that I am about 
 to suffer for my mistakes. What is it you 
 want me to do ? ” 
 
 “ To come away at once, sir,” Durrington 
 replied. “It is imperative that when these 
 
268 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 men arrive, they should not find you here. 
 We must discover some place where they will 
 not think of looking for you.” 
 
 “ My proper place is at the Capital,” said 
 the President. “It is there I must go if 
 I leave here.” 
 
 “It is not to be thought of, your Excel- 
 lency,” said Durrington; and then, turning 
 to Nita, he added, “will you not add your 
 entreaties to mine? Can you not see what 
 a blow it would be to the cause if by any 
 chance your father should fall into the 
 enemy’s hands?” 
 
 “ Father, you must not go to the Capital,” 
 said Nita, pleadingly. “ General Martinez 
 and Mr. Durrington are quite right in what 
 they say. You must be patient. It will not 
 be for long.” 
 
 She put her arms round the old man’s neck 
 and clung to him. They made a pathetic 
 picture, and Durrington felt a lump rise in 
 his throat as he watched them. 
 
 “ Ah ! little girl,” said the President, with 
 a sad smile, “ if you are going to side against 
 me too, I suppose I must surrender. But I 
 cannot help thinking my place is with my 
 army. It would surely restore confidence if 
 the people saw that I was still at the head 
 of affairs.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 269 
 
 “ So you will be, sir,” said Durrington, 
 “ even though you are not there in person. 
 General Martinez will communicate with you 
 as often as possible, and all the proclama- 
 tions and orders will still be issued in your 
 name. Forgive me, sir, for saying so, but 
 at your age it is ” 
 
 “ I never thought that to grow old in the 
 service of my country,” the President inter- 
 rupted, sadly, “would some day be urged 
 against me as an offence. However, I sup- 
 pose I must surrender to you. When do 
 you wish to start?” 
 
 “ Immediately, sir,” Durrington replied. 
 “ There is not a moment to be lost. Gon- 
 salvez may have recovered his horses by 
 this time, and may even now be on the 
 road again.” 
 
 “ I will tell Ferrara,” the President replied, 
 but not without reluctance, “ and he will 
 see that the horses are prepared imme- 
 diately. In the meantime you must eat. 
 Nita, my darling, will you see that a meal 
 is arranged for Mr. Durrington and his 
 men? Then you had better warn Madame 
 Vanhoysen, and prepare her and yourself for 
 the journey.” 
 
 Nita left the room, and Durrington and 
 the President were alone together. 
 
270 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ Now tell me everything,” said the latter. 
 “ I seem to know nothing of what has 
 occurred during my absence from the Capital. 
 How did General Martinez learn that the 
 Revolution was to come to a head before he 
 expected it ? And why was it he sent you, 
 of all other people, to me ? ” 
 
 In as few words as possible, Durrington 
 told him everything. He hid nothing, but 
 left it to the President to analyse his motives, 
 and to decide whether the service he had 
 rendered him and his country in any way 
 atoned for the harm he might previously 
 have done it. The latter heard him through 
 without interruption. When he had finished, 
 he made no comment upon what he had 
 heard, but, crossing the room, held out his 
 hand. 
 
 “ Senor Durrington,” he said, “ I thank you 
 from the bottom of my heart.” 
 
 “ Sir,” said the other, “ you are too 
 generous. You treat me as if I had done 
 something heroic, which is far from being 
 the case. Remember how low I had fallen 
 before.” 
 
 “ Do not let us talk of that,” answered 
 the President, holding up his hand as if in 
 expostulation. “ You have at least done your 
 duty now. Now come and refresh yourself. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 271 
 
 and by that time the ladies will probably 
 be ready for the road.” 
 
 Durrington followed him into an adjoining 
 room. Here a meal had already been pre- 
 pared. He sat down to it, and while he was 
 satisfying his hunger, the President departed 
 to prepare himself for departure from his 
 beloved home. 
 
 As soon as he had satisfied his hunger, 
 Durrington rose from the table, and went 
 into the verandah to superintend the pre- 
 parations for getting away. He had scarcely 
 set foot in it, however, before he gave a cry 
 of horror and astonishment. On glancing 
 down the hill-side, he saw, riding quickly 
 towards the house, upwards of twenty men. 
 Though they rode in something like military 
 order, it was plainly to be seen that they 
 were not soldiers, and for other reasons 
 Durrington was certain that they did not 
 belong to Gonsalvez’ band. They were now 
 scarcely five hundred yards from the house, 
 and in a few moments would be there. He 
 could have cursed himself for his folly in 
 not having placed sentries at a distance from 
 the house, to warn him of the enemy’s 
 approach. It was too late, however, to think 
 of that now. 
 
 Making up his mind in a flash, he dashed 
 
272 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 into the house, and shouted to his men. 
 In less time than it takes to tell, they were 
 in the verandah, drawn up in line, their rifles 
 loaded and ready to their hands. The men 
 approaching must have seen them, for they 
 pulled up, and for some minutes conferred 
 together. Then one of their number left the 
 group and came towards the house. Dur- 
 rington descended the steps, and held up 
 his hand as a signal to him to halt. It 
 was then he discovered the newcomer was 
 no less a person than Larralde himself, 
 whom he had supposed to be in command 
 of the Ee volutionary forces at the Capital. 
 
 “ Ah ! Senor Durrington,” said the latter, 
 with a wave of his hand, “so it is you, is 
 it ? I have come by Spielman’s orders to 
 invite you to the Capital.” 
 
 “If that is your business,” said Dur- 
 rington, looking him straight in the eyes, 
 “you can return with my compliments to 
 Mr. Spielman, and inform him that I regret 
 I cannot avail myself of his hospitality.” 
 
 “ Think well before you decide, for in 
 that case I shall he compelled to order my 
 men to advance and take you. The Presi- 
 dent is there, too, it seems. I’ll escort 
 him back to the Capital as well. It’s no 
 use your attempting to hold out against me. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 273 
 
 Gonsalvez is on his way here with a large 
 force, so that you must see for yourself 
 that resistance would be useless. I will give 
 you ten minutes to surrender.” 
 
 “ And if we decline to avail ourselves 
 of it ? ” 
 
 “ In that case the responsibility will rest 
 with you. If I were you, I should sur- 
 render while I had the opportunity. Your 
 forces are outnumbered, and, as I have said, 
 Gonsalvez with his men is on his way here. 
 You have our terms.” 
 
 “ And I refuse to accept them.” 
 
 “ So much the worse for you. In ten 
 minutes, remember, I shall act.” 
 
 “ You need not wait ten minutes,” said 
 Durrington. “ I give you my answer now, 
 and you may take it as final. I and my 
 men will fight to the death before we sur- 
 render the house to you.” 
 
 “ They shall have an opportunity of put- 
 ting their heroism to the test,” sneered the 
 other. 
 
 Having delivered his ultimatum, Larralde 
 returned to his men, while Durrington 
 made his way slowly back to the house. 
 He was trying to understand what the 
 other’s presence there betokened. How had 
 Spielman become aware of his attempt to 
 
 s 
 
274 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 rescue the President ? To have kiiovm 
 that, he must have learnt the fact of his 
 visit to the Port. Did he, therefore, know 
 of his meeting with O’Donoghue ? And had 
 the scheme he had so artfully contrived for 
 getting the latter to Paquillo, instead of to 
 Querida, fallen through ? These questions 
 flashed through his mind as he walked back 
 to the house. If the truth must be told, 
 he bitterly blamed himself for what had 
 occurred. If only they had not delayed so 
 long at the ford, the President and the 
 ladies might even now have been in safety. 
 Now, what would become of them ? Know- 
 ing the Eevolutionists as he did, he tried 
 to put the thought out of his head. As if 
 in earnest of what was to follow, as he 
 mounted the first step leading to the 
 verandah, a rifle rang out, and a bullet flat- 
 tened itself on the wall within a few inches 
 of his head, leaving a neat little splash of 
 lead to mark the spot. 
 
 “ Into the house, men ! ” cried Durrington 
 to the troopers. “ Take up your positions 
 at the windows, but be careful not to 
 expose yourselves more than is necessary. 
 Pick off any man who may venture out 
 into the open, but, above all things, don’t 
 waste your fire.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 275 
 
 They had scarcely entered the house, 
 and Durrington had closed the door, before 
 Nita made her appearance before him, with 
 a white and troubled face. 
 
 “ What is the matter ? ” she inquired. 
 “I heard a shot. You are not hurt?” 
 
 “ Not even a scratch,” Durrington an- 
 swered. “ I am sorry to say, however, 
 that the matter is even more serious than 
 I at first anticipated. Another party has 
 put in an appearance under the command 
 of Larralde, and they have given me ten 
 minutes in which to surrender myself and 
 your father, or to abide the consequences. 
 I decided in favour of the latter alternative, 
 and the shot you heard just now was the 
 result.” 
 
 “ And what do you intend to do ? Tell 
 me, and let me help you. Whatever 
 happens, my father must not fall into their 
 hands.” 
 
 “ Your father shall not do so if I can 
 help it,” said Durrington. “ You may 
 trust me for that ; and now I must make 
 things safe here. Will you tell the Presi- 
 dent what has happened while I am 
 doing so ? ” 
 
 She left the room to do as he asked. 
 Durrington meanwhile busied himself dis- 
 
276 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 tributing his troopers throughout the house. 
 He had only twelve at his disposal, and 
 the building was a large one for such a 
 small number to defend efiectually. These, 
 however, he so posted that on whatever 
 side the attack might be made he would 
 receive timely warning. He was still occu- 
 pied perfecting his defences, when he heard 
 a step behind him, and, on turning, found 
 the President standing before him. 
 
 “ How many men have you at your dis- 
 posal ? ” inquired the latter, and Durrington 
 noticed that a subtle change had come over 
 the old man. He looked years younger. 
 
 “ Thirteen, including myself,” the other 
 replied. “ I wish there were more, but 
 since there are not, we must make the most 
 of them.” 
 
 “ You can add two to the number,” said 
 the President. “ Myself and Ferrara. Un- 
 fortunately, we are not very proficient, but 
 we will do our best.” 
 
 “You must not expose yourself, sir,” said 
 Durrington. “ I don’t know what sort of 
 marksmen these men are, but it would be 
 foolish to give them an opportunity of 
 injuring you.” 
 
 “ My dear lad,” replied the President, “ I 
 have given in to you in other matters. In 
 
A Maker of Nations. 277 
 
 return you must not deprive me of the right 
 to share your danger with you.” 
 
 “ That is a matter for your own discretion, 
 of course,” answered Durrington; “ but before 
 you run any risks, I would implore you to 
 think of your daughter and of those who 
 love you. Consider the sorrow it would cause 
 her, should any harm befall you. But while I 
 am talking here, I should be continuing my 
 work. Much still remains to be done before our 
 safety can be considered in any way assured.” 
 
 For the next half hour everyone was kept 
 busily employed upon the defences. Such 
 windows as were not required as loop-holes 
 for firing through were barricaded with 
 mattresses and furniture, while all other 
 weak points were made as bullet - proof as 
 possible. Sentries were posted at various 
 points to watch and report the doings of the 
 enemy, while the store of ammunition was 
 collected and evenly distributed among the 
 garrison. This done, Durrington started 
 on another round of inspection. Strange 
 though it may seem, he had not yet spoken 
 to Coralie since he had been in the house. 
 He now encountered her in one of the 
 corridors, when, with a face as ashen as a 
 cerecloth, she laid her hand upon his arm 
 and attempted to detain him. 
 
278 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 There was a fear, greater than the fear of 
 death, in her eyes, as she said hoarsely : 
 
 “Dick, why have you avoided me so? Is 
 it because you know this is all my doing? 
 Have you discovered that the letter I gave 
 you to take to Spielman was to tell him that 
 you loved Nita, and that, in consequence, 
 you were betraying him to the Government ? 
 Do you know that ? I told him we were 
 coming here, and that, if he wanted to arrest 
 the President, this was the place to do it.” 
 
 “ I guessed as much,” Dick replied, with- 
 out a trace of either anger or astonishment. 
 “ You have the satisfaction of knowing how 
 successful your plan is turning out. I 
 presume you are satisfied ? Of course, I 
 don’t mind for myself. I always knew I 
 should be caught some time or another ; but 
 I must confess I should have liked it better 
 had you left the President and his daughter 
 out of your arrangements. Coralie, why did 
 you not listen to me that morning in the 
 Palace garden when I tried to persuade you 
 to leave Spielman and come away with me ? ” 
 Then in a softer tone he added, noticing the 
 look of anguish on her face, “ You are 
 trembling ; are you frightened ? ” 
 
 “ Horribly,” Coralie answered with a 
 shudder. “ But not of what you think. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 279 
 
 You don’t know how I have suffered since I 
 wrote that letter. My life has been one long 
 hell to me. Oh ! if I could only die without 
 their finding out the traitress I am ! ” 
 
 The loungers on the terrace of the hotel at 
 Cairo would have failed to recognise in her 
 the woman who had driven away so merrily 
 that afternoon with Spielman. She had 
 looked so pretty and dainty then, and she was 
 so haggard and miserable now. Even Dur- 
 rington, small cause though he had to do so, 
 could not but feel sorry for her. He had no 
 time, however, to spare for her troubles. He 
 had to guard against the effect their united 
 misdoings had brought about. 
 
 Having assured himself that all his men 
 were satisfactorily posted, and that there v/as 
 no chance of the enemy approaching the 
 house without being seen, Durrington bor- 
 rowed a pair of field glasses from the Presi- 
 dent, and mounted the steps to the small 
 square platform on the roof. Once there he 
 carefully examined the line of timber on 
 either side of the open space leading up to 
 the house. No trace of the enemy, however, 
 was to be found there. He was still looking 
 for them, when a puff of smoke came from 
 a patch of canes three hundred yards or so 
 to his left, and a second later a bullet hit 
 
28 o a Maker of Nations. 
 
 the wooden balustrading at his side, and a 
 large splinter fell at his feet. Almost simul- 
 taneously another shot whistled past his head 
 from the opposite side of the plain. 
 
 “ Whatever their other failings may be,” 
 said Durrington to himself, “it is very cer- 
 tain that they can shoot. I suppose they’re 
 going to lie up and pepper us until Gonsalvez 
 arrives. Then, if I know anything of their 
 little ways, they’ll rush the house under 
 cover of darkness.” 
 
 Seeing that he was running useless risk 
 by remaining where he was, he descended 
 to the house and went round his garrison 
 for the third time. He found the President 
 and his Secretary in the library, with rifles 
 in their hands. His Excellency was genu- 
 inely moved, though he tried hard to pre- 
 tend that he was all eagerness for the fray. 
 
 “ For the future the comic cartoons will 
 depict me as an armed leader of the Opposi- 
 tion, Durrington,” he said with a smile as 
 the latter passed through the room. “ Ani- 
 mated by your example, I feel as if I could 
 perform prodigies of valour.” 
 
 “ In that case the Commander-in-Chief will 
 be compelled to mention you in despatches 
 to yourself,” said the other with a smile. “ I 
 would, however, far rather your Excellency 
 
A Maker of Nations. 281 
 
 would consent to remain in the background. 
 Please God, we shall have you back in the 
 Capital before many days are over.” 
 
 “ Amen to that,” said Manuel Ferrara, 
 his hands trembling upon his rifle. 
 
 Durrington noticed that the President’s 
 eyes had filled with tears. He quickly left 
 the room and passed into the patio, in the 
 centre of the building, where he found the 
 ladies, assisted by the female servants of the 
 establishment, busily engaged preparing meals 
 for the garrison, and making all ready should 
 anyone by chance be wounded. Nita looked 
 up at him with a proud smile. Her own 
 heart might be as heavy as it pleased, she 
 was not going to add to his anxieties by 
 making him aware of the fact. 
 
 “ Kemember,” she said, “ if you want any- 
 one else to use a rifle, I am here. You have 
 no idea what a good shot I am. I shall not 
 be afraid.” 
 
 As she spoke, Durrington looked at Coralie. 
 She was leaning against the wall, and it 
 struck him that she had grown years older 
 since that morning in Constancia when she 
 had told him that she could only leave the 
 Eepublic as his wife. Fearing that he 
 had hurt her when he had spoken to her 
 half-an-hour before, he was about to address 
 
282 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 some remark to her, when the sound of 
 a report, followed by at least a dozen 
 others, reached their ears. Then the noise 
 of breaking glass was heard, and a call 
 came from the sergeant who was on duty in 
 the dining room. A second later the latter’s 
 rifle rang out, and the smell of powder was 
 wafted down the passages and into the^a^m 
 where the women waited. 
 
 “ If I am not mistaken, that is the first bar 
 of the overture,” said Durrington, “Now I 
 must go and mount guard at my window.” 
 
 On hearing this, Nita approached him and 
 took his hand. 
 
 “ God bless you and protect you, Dick,” 
 she said simply. “ Call me the moment you 
 want me to help you. I shall be quite pre- 
 pared.” 
 
 “ I will let you know, never fear,” he an- 
 swered. “ I hope, however, your services will 
 not be required.” 
 
 The words had scarcely left his lips before 
 a scream of pain reached them from one of 
 the bedrooms on the southern side of the 
 house. 
 
 “ A man shot through the lungs ! ” cried 
 Durrington, who had heard the sound too 
 often to be mistaken in its meaning. 
 
 “Let him be brought here,” said Nita, 
 
A Maker of Nations. 283 
 
 as calmly and collectedly as if she were 
 matron in an accident ward. “ I have every- 
 thing in readiness, and you may be sure we 
 shall look after him thoroughly.” 
 
 Durrington nodded, and hastened in the 
 direction whence the cry had proceeded. As 
 he had imagined, it hailed from Ferrara’s 
 bedroom, and, strange to relate, the wounded 
 man was none other than the trooper who 
 had been so unfortunate at the ford earlier 
 in the day. A bullet had entered through 
 the window, ricochetted ofi the stonework of 
 the sill, and had pierced his chest. He was 
 lying on the floor when Durrington reached 
 him, breathing spasmodically, and with every 
 breath pumping a bloody froth from his 
 lips. One glance was sufficient to show Dur- 
 rington that the case was hopeless. He 
 stooped, and taking the poor fellow tenderly 
 in his arms, carried him from the room, down 
 the passage to the patio. Coralie and one 
 of the women uttered little cries of horror 
 as they saw him, but not a sound escaped 
 Nita’s lips. 
 
 “ Lay him here,” she said, pointing to a 
 mattress which had been placed upon the 
 floor in readiness. “ I will do all I can for 
 him, poor fellow.” 
 
 “ God bless you, darling,” 
 
 said Dick, 
 
284 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 marvelling at her wonderful self-control. “ I 
 must go back and take his place.” 
 
 He did so, and when he reached the room 
 picked up the rifle the other had let fall, 
 pushed a cartridge into the breech, and then 
 took a survey of the landscape from the 
 window. By this time the firing was general 
 all round the house, and the patter of bullets 
 could be plainly heard upon the woodwork 
 overhead. Larralde had evidently distributed 
 his forces to the best advantage. The chances 
 were by no means equal, for while the de- 
 fenders could not fire without appearing at 
 the windows, and thus afibrding targets for 
 the enemy, the latter were not to be seen at 
 all, and only the occasional puffs of smoke 
 that emerged from the bushes and trees 
 across the plain gave evidence of their posi- 
 tion. For nearly two hours the position re- 
 mained unchanged ; then the sergeant ap- 
 peared in Durrington’s room. He was wiping 
 the blood from a nasty cut on the side of his 
 forehead that had been caused by a wandering 
 splinter. 
 
 “ I came to tell you, senor,” he said, “that, 
 in my opinion, there’s mischief brewing on 
 the other side of the house. It’s my belief 
 Gonsalvez’ company has come up, for I 
 noticed a body of men on horses crossing 
 
A Maker of Nations. 285 
 
 from one patch of timber to another a short 
 while ago.” 
 
 “ I should not be at all surprised,” said 
 Durrington. “ Go back to your post, keep 
 your eyes on them, and if you see anything 
 further that strikes you as at all suspicious, 
 let me know at once. They must not take 
 us by surprise.” 
 
 The sergeant saluted and retired. For five 
 or ten minutes Durrington continued to watch 
 the timber opposite his window. So far, he 
 himself had only fired twice, and even then 
 he could not tell whether his shots had proved 
 effective. He was in the act of thrusting a 
 new cartridge into his rifle, when a young 
 trooper called to him from an adjoining room 
 to tell him that the sergeant would be glad 
 if he might speak with him immediately. He 
 ran thither, to find the latter standing at 
 his window, watching a man on a grey horse 
 who was riding from clump to clump at a 
 fast pace. 
 
 “ There’s something in the wind now, sir,” 
 said the sergeant. “It looks as if they are 
 going to make an advance all along the 
 line.” 
 
 “ In that case, we must be ready to receive 
 them,” Durrington replied. “ But what 
 about the back of the house? We must 
 
286 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 have all the men we can spare on this 
 side. Somebody, however, must remain 
 to keep a look-out there, or we shall be 
 surprised from that quarter. Whom can you 
 spare ? ” 
 
 “ I’m afraid we can’t spare anybody,” the 
 sergeant answered. 
 
 “ Then what’s to be done ? ” 
 
 “ Let me do it,” said a voice behind him, 
 and turning, Durrington found that Nita had 
 entered the room. “ Give me a rifle, and I 
 will mount guard in the study. Even if I 
 can’t shoot straight enough, I can at least 
 let you know if anything is wrong — will 
 you trust me ? ” 
 
 “ There is nobody I would trust more 
 willingly,” said Durrington. “ But for 
 heaven’s sake do not run any risks.” 
 
 She was about to answer him — indeed, her 
 lips had opened to speak — when a bullet 
 crashed in through the window and hit the 
 young trooper who had called Durrington to 
 the room only a moment before. He threw 
 up his arms, uttered a cry, and then fell 
 forward on his face, shot through the head. 
 Durrington knelt beside him, turned him over 
 on his side, and laid his hand on his heart. 
 It was useless, however ; the man was dead. 
 He rose to his feet and turned an ashen 
 
“A bullet ... hit the young trooper.” 
 
 A Maker of Nations'] 
 
 {Page 286 
 
A Maker of Nations. 287 
 
 face towards Nita, who had fallen back against 
 the wall, trembling violently. 
 
 “ It might have been you,” he said, 
 in a voice that was guttural with emotion. 
 “ My God ! what should I do if you were 
 hit ? ” 
 
 By this time she had recovered her 
 composure. 
 
 “ I am going to the study,” she said. “ I 
 will let you know the moment I have any- 
 thing to report.” 
 
 When she had left the room, Durrington 
 returned to the window. There could be no 
 doubt that there was something in the wind, 
 for the firing had ceased altogether. What, 
 however, the next move was to be he could 
 not tell ; in any case, it behoved him to be 
 ready for it. His force was now reduced by 
 two men, and under the circumstances that 
 meant a very considerable diminution of 
 strength. If only the women and the Presi- 
 dent were out of the way, he would not have 
 cared, but their presence in the house not 
 only added to his anxiety, but detracted from 
 his power of movement. 
 
 A solemn silence reigned in the house. 
 Every man’s nerves were strained to breaking 
 pitch, for each one felt that the next five 
 minutes would probably decide his fate. 
 
288 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 Then suddenly a bugle call was heard. It 
 sounded the advance. 
 
 “Now, men,” said Durrington as the 
 troopers sprang to attention. “ Steady ! 
 and be careful how you fire. We’ve no 
 ammunition to spare, so do not throw away 
 a shot.” 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 O F all that happened during the quarter of 
 an hour which followed the trumpet call 
 to charge, Durrington to this day has only an 
 imperfect recollection. He remembers order- 
 ing his men to be careful not to throw away 
 a shot, and he can recall seeing the enemy 
 leave the shelter of the bushes and emerge 
 into the open. It is of what followed after 
 that that his recollection is so vague. The 
 enemy advanced upon the house at the double. 
 They were led by Larralde in person, and 
 it was plain that if the house was to be 
 captured at all, they had made up their 
 minds to do it. 
 
 The foremost man was little more than 
 eighty yards distant from the windows when 
 Durrington gave the order to fire, and almost 
 simultaneously the rifles rang out. So short 
 was the range and so careful the marksman- 
 ship that no less than nine of the oncomers 
 bit the dirt. There was a momentary pause, 
 and then the remainder came on even faster 
 
290 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 than before. By this time, however, the 
 garrison had had time to reload, and at the 
 word of command they climbed into the 
 verandah, where they once more fired a 
 volley. This time, however, though they 
 were scarcely so successful in the number 
 rendered hors de combat, the execution done 
 was sufficient to deter the enemy, who 
 wavered, halted, and finally fell back upon 
 their bushes, having lost, in all, twelve of 
 their comrades in that short distance. Of 
 the garrison, two were dead, three badly 
 wounded, while several others had suffered 
 damage too slight to be taken into con- 
 sideration. Seeing that there was nothing 
 to be gained by remaining where they were, 
 while there was everything to lose, Dur- 
 rington gave the order to retire into the 
 house, taking with them their wounded. Then 
 the old duel at long range recommenced. 
 
 After the lesson they had received, the 
 enemy were for the time plainly averse to 
 running further risks. They contented 
 themselves with keeping under cover of the 
 bushes, and put in their time practising their 
 shooting at the various windows of the 
 house. In this fashion the day wore on 
 until morning was merged into afternoon, 
 and afternoon passed into night. Towards 
 
A Maker of Nations. 291 
 
 dusk it was noticeable that the Eevolu- 
 tionists’ fire was not so hot as it had been, 
 and this caused Durrington more uneasiness 
 than he cared to say. He knew there must 
 be some reason for it, and his common 
 sense told him that whatever that reason 
 was, it was scarcely likely to be favourable 
 to his party or his plans. It had one good 
 side, however: it gave the men a chance 
 of obtaining that rest of which they stood 
 in so much need. In order to guard against 
 surprise during the siesta, Durrington posted 
 sentries at the four corners of the building, 
 and these he changed every hour. After 
 one of his rounds, he sought out Diaz, 
 the veteran sergeant, and asked him what 
 he imagined could be the reason for this 
 sudden cessation of hostilities. The sergeant 
 shook his head. 
 
 “If the senor will be guided by me,” he 
 said, “he will not put any trust in them. 
 It’s my belief they are waiting for darkness 
 to fall ; then they will make another dash 
 at us.” 
 
 He had scarcely spoken before a hail from 
 the south side of the house warned him that 
 there was some new development of the case 
 in that direction. He hastened to the dining- 
 room to find that a man carrying a flag of 
 
292 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 truce, and accompanied by another on horse- 
 back, was approaching. Durrington imme- 
 diately ordered the sergeant to get the 
 garrison under arms, and then he himself 
 went out into the verandah to receive the 
 deputation. The mounted man proved to 
 be none other than Gonsalvez, who carried 
 in his hand a piece of note paper. 
 
 “You will observe, senor Durrington,” 
 said the latter with a touch of anxiety in 
 his voice, “ that I am quite unarmed. You 
 played me a scurvy trick this morning in 
 the matter of those horses, but I leave it 
 to your honour now to remember that I 
 am the bearer of a flag of truce.” 
 
 “ You need not fear that I will hurt you,” 
 said Durrington scornfully. “What is it 
 you want ? Say your say, and after that 
 be off about your business. What do you 
 want? ” 
 
 “ I have come to give you some infor- 
 mation,” the man replied. “ I have also 
 come to offer you terms under which you 
 can capitulate with honour to yourself and 
 advantage to the men under you.” 
 
 “ Let us begin with your information,” 
 Durrington answered, as if he had not 
 heard the latter part of the other’s speech. 
 “I give you my word beforehand that I 
 
A Maker of Nations. 293 
 
 shall not believe it. I may as well hear it, 
 however.” 
 
 That this was not the reception that 
 Gonsalvez had hoped to receive was apparent 
 from his face. However, such as it was, 
 he had to make the best of it. 
 
 “I hold in my hand a letter from Mr. 
 Spielman,” he said. “It was written at 
 mid-day. In it he tells me that General 
 MacCartney met the forces of the Govern- 
 ment outside the village of Priego between 
 nine and ten o’clock this morning, and, 
 after a battle lasting upwards of two hours, 
 defeated them with a loss of nearly a 
 thousand men. The Commander-in-Chief is 
 a prisoner, while General Montar jo was 
 killed upon the field of battle. MacCartney 
 now occupies the capital, while Mr. Spiel- 
 man has possession of the port.” 
 
 “And what about O’Donoghue? Have 
 you no information to give me concerning 
 him ? Surely he has distinguished himself 
 in some way ? ” 
 
 Gonsalvez looked hard at Durrington before 
 he replied. He had an uneasy suspicion 
 that the other was laughing at him. 
 
 “ O’Donoghue defeated Borgona at Qu^rida, 
 and is now marching on to the Capital,” he 
 said, at last. 
 
294 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ Thank you,” said Durrington, after a 
 moment’s hesitation. “ Your information is 
 very interesting, and I am glad, for several 
 reasons, that I have heard it. It contains, 
 however, a little too much fiction for my 
 taste. I would advise you to be careful of 
 your facts before you embark on such a 
 narrative again.” 
 
 “Am I to understand that you doubt my 
 word?” cried Gonsalvez, with an attempt at 
 bluster. “ You will find to your sorrow, when 
 it is too late, that it is correct in every 
 particular.” 
 
 “In that case I shall have to beg your 
 pardon,” answered Durrington. “Now, if 
 that is all you have to say to me, I will bid 
 you good afternoon.” 
 
 An awkward silence followed for upwards 
 of a minute. 
 
 “I have more to say to you,” said Gon- 
 salvez. “ I suppose you know that you are 
 in a position of considerable danger, don’t 
 you ? Now you and I have always been 
 good friends, and for that reason I want to 
 save you if I can. Let me tell you that 
 Spielman is far from being well disposed 
 towards you. If he lays his hand upon you 
 there can be no doubt that he will do you 
 a mischief — that is, always provided you con- 
 
A Maker of Nations. 295 
 
 tinue in your opposition. If, however, you 
 will lay down your arms and return to him 
 at once, I am authorised to say that he will 
 be prepared to forgive and forget, and to 
 give you back your old position. But it 
 must be at once. He would be disposed to 
 be more lenient, I fancy, if you were to bring 
 the President with you. And why should 
 you not? There must surely be some way 
 in which it can be managed without com- 
 promising yourself. Tell him the day is lost, 
 then put him on a horse and start him out 
 to ride away in safety. We shall be easily 
 able to catch him, and when we’ve done so, 
 we’ll jog quietly back to the Capital together, 
 and you can make your own peace with 
 Spielman as soon as you like. It’s no use 
 fighting us; we’ve got you in a corner, and 
 you can’t get out. Your ammunition is 
 almost exhausted, and it is only a matter 
 of time now before you surrender, whether 
 you want to or not. What do you think 
 about it ? ” 
 
 Durrington looked the other fair and full 
 in the face. 
 
 “ Shall I tell you what I think, Gon- 
 salvez?” he inquired. ‘^Just consider for a 
 moment what you are asking me to do. You 
 are tempting me to sell this old man’s life 
 
296 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 to you, to break his daughter’s heart, and 
 also to betray the soldiers in my charge, 
 and for what ? To save my life. I always 
 thought you were a blackguard, Gonsalvez, 
 but I never expected to find that you were 
 as bad as that.” 
 
 The other’s face was white with passion. 
 He slipped his hand into the pocket of his 
 coat, and Durrington understood the meaning 
 of the gesture. 
 
 “ None of that, my friend,” he said, quietly. 
 “ Take your hand out of your pocket, or I 
 give the order to my men to fire, and you’ll 
 be a dead man that instant. Now be off to 
 your companions, and tell them that I will 
 not surrender the President or his property, 
 come what may.” 
 
 Gonsalvez paused for a moment, and then 
 turned his horse and rode without another 
 word back to his men. When he had seen 
 him depart, Durrington also retraced his 
 steps. While he did not for a moment 
 believe the news the other had brought him, 
 it was still sufficient to cause him considerable 
 uneasiness. If it were true that MacCartney 
 had succeeded in defeating the Presidential 
 forces— and it was quite probable there had 
 been a battle — ^it might be impossible for 
 Martinez to spare a force sufficient to send 
 
A Maker of Nations. 297 
 
 to their rescue. In that case, what was to 
 be done ? When he reached the house, he 
 ordered his men to return to their original 
 positions, while he sought out the President 
 and Ferrara, and told them what Gonsalvez 
 had said to him, only suppressing that portion 
 of their conversation which referred to the 
 offer of betrayal. 
 
 “It’s my belief the story is a fabrication 
 from beginning to end,’’ said Ferrara. 
 
 “ I agree with you,” Durrington replied. 
 “ But it behoves us to act as if we believed it 
 to be true. There can be no denying the fact 
 that our position is serious.” 
 
 “ Unfortunately, I am compelled to agree 
 with you,” remarked the President. “ Our 
 ammunition is running short, and, as Gon- 
 salvez says, it is only a matter of time before 
 we shall be compelled to surrender through 
 sheer lack of means to continue the fight. 
 It seems to me, gentlemen, it would save 
 useless loss of life if I were to trust 
 myself to them. What harm could they 
 do me?” 
 
 “ My dear sir,” cried Durrington, with all 
 the vehemence of which he was master, 
 “ such a thing is not to be thought of for a 
 moment ! It would be madness to put 
 yourself in their hands. Your life would 
 
298 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 not be worth a moment’s purchase. No, 
 sir, you shall not do that while we have a 
 man to detain you. Since my talk with 
 Gonsalvez, I have been turning the subject 
 over in my mind, and I believe he has 
 furnished me with an idea that may ultimately 
 prove a way out of the difficulty.” 
 
 “ Let us hear it, by all means,” said the 
 President. 
 
 “ The plan I have in my mind is an 
 extremely risky one,” said Durrington. 
 “ But it is just possible it might succeed ; 
 at any rate, it would be better than remain- 
 ing here, with every hour bringing us nearer 
 capture. My idea is that, as soon as dark- 
 ness falls, we should collect the horses, and 
 move them half a mile or so along the 
 mountain side. When this has been done, 
 you and the ladies will creep out by the 
 back, mount, and be off. Surely there must 
 be some place in the mountains where you 
 can hide until we are in a position to find 
 out how matters stand at the Capital ? ” 
 
 Unfortunately, neither the President nor 
 his secretary could think of any such place. 
 
 “ Let us ask Nita,” said the former. “ She 
 is more familiar with the mountains than 
 I am.” 
 
 Mademoiselle Cavarro was accordingly 
 
A Maker of Nations. 299 
 
 invited to join the council, and when the 
 position had been explained to her, she 
 immediately stated that she knew just the 
 sort of place they required. It was a hut, 
 situated eight miles or thereabouts from the 
 estancia, at the end of a long and lonely pass. 
 It was by no means a cheerful place, she 
 explained ; but, on the other hand, it pos- 
 sessed advantages that fully compensated for 
 such a minor drawback as loneliness. If only 
 they could reach it unobserved, it was, in her 
 opinion, extremely unlikely that their presence 
 would be discovered. 
 
 “ The most difficult part of my plan,” 
 said Durrington, “ will consist in getting the 
 horses away, and enabling your party to join 
 them. That once accomplished, however, the 
 rest will be easy. You will have to take a 
 pack horse with you, carrying a good store 
 of provisions, as well as blankets and warm 
 clothing. Perhaps you, mademoiselle, will be 
 kind enough to attend to this matter? ” 
 
 He spoke with an air of command that sat 
 well upon him. Nita promised compliance, 
 and the meeting was thereupon adjourned. 
 The President and Ferrara departed to their 
 posts, while Durrington went off to discuss 
 matters with the sergeant. 
 
 “ You will have to accompany them, Diaz,” 
 
300 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 he said, in conclusion. “ I shall remain here 
 to cover their retreat. Now I want you to 
 choose me a man from your number whom 
 I can send to General Martinez. He must 
 be trustworthy and prudent in every way, 
 for he will not only carry his own life in 
 his hands, but ours as well. He must also, 
 supposing he is captured, say nothing about 
 the President’s escape from this house.” 
 
 “ I can find you just the man, senor,” said 
 the sergeant. “ I will speak to him at once, 
 if you wish.” 
 
 An hour later their arrangements were 
 completed, and all that remained was to 
 await an opportunity for putting them into 
 practice. The enemy had evidently made 
 up their minds to pursue a policy of inactivity, 
 thus giving them little or no trouble. How- 
 ever, as Durrington proved to his complete 
 satisfaction, they were by no means unwatch- 
 ful of what went on in the house, for once, 
 when he went into the verandah to test 
 them, he had not been there many seconds 
 before bullets were spattering upon the walls 
 on either side of him. From the evidence 
 before him, he gathered that they had drawn 
 a cordon from the mountain base on the 
 right of the house to that on the left. 
 Whether there would be room for the 
 
A Maker of Nations, 301 
 
 fugitives to pass between the pickets and 
 the mountains was what Durrington was so 
 anxious to discover. Upon that his hopes 
 depended. As soon as it was dark he intended 
 to try the experiment. 
 
 Accordingly, later in the evening, he called 
 the sergeant to him and told him what he 
 was about to do, bidding him at the same 
 time take particular care not to allow the 
 house to be surprised during his absence. 
 The latter promised to be careful, and Dur- 
 rington accordingly set off on his perilous 
 expedition. And well might it be termed 
 perilous. Never in his life, which had con- 
 tained some eventful minutes, had he had 
 such a difficult task set him. He had but the 
 faintest idea of the enemy’s position on either 
 side of the house, and, to avoid being seen, it 
 was necessary for him to take advantage of 
 every atom of cover that came in his way, 
 one moment creeping forward on his hands 
 and knees, the next laying flat upon the 
 ground and wriggling himself from bush to 
 bush like a new kind of serpent. A twig 
 snapping under him was sufficient to bring 
 his heart into his mouth, and once when a 
 night bird hooted from a tree above him, 
 some minutes elapsed before he recovered his 
 presence of mind. Little by little, with an 
 
302 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 advance so gradual that it seemed eternal, 
 he made his way round the base of the hill. 
 So far, he had seen nothing of the enemy. 
 Not a sound came from their lines. The 
 whole countryside might have been deserted 
 for all that a stranger could have told to 
 the contrary. 
 
 At last he reached the belt of timber. It 
 was here that he would find the danger if 
 anywhere. With all the woodcraft and wily- 
 ness of an Apache Indian, he entered the 
 bushes. No sound, however, save the gentle 
 sighing of the wind through the trees over- 
 head met his ears. Little by little he 
 advanced ; every faculty strained to its utter- 
 most. At last it seemed to him he could hear 
 voices. If that were so, he knew he must be 
 approaching the enemy’s outposts. He still 
 continued to push on, taking even more care 
 than before not to be heard. He could 
 scarcely have been more than fifteen yards 
 from the men when he stopped. Peering 
 through the hushes he could see the 
 house quite distinctly, a dark block under 
 the stars. One of the men near him was 
 humming a Spanish love song to amuse 
 himself. 
 
 “ Why don’t they come out and have done 
 with it ? ” asked the singer’s companion, in a 
 
A Maker of Nations. 303 
 
 tone that seemed to suggest that he was tired 
 of his vigil. 
 
 “ If you knew it meant certain death to do 
 so, I don’t fancy you would try it,” the other 
 replied. “ Courage is a good horse to ride, 
 as the proverb says, but caution’s a better.” 
 
 “ To the devil with you and your proverbs,” 
 continued the man who had first spoken. 
 “ To think that we’ve got to wait for mid- 
 night before we can do anything. It’s 
 ridiculous. My teeth are chattering already.” 
 
 “ And what is it you are going to do at 
 midnight, my friend?” said Durrington to 
 himself as he listened. “I should like to 
 find out.” 
 
 The men, however, were now silent, and 
 remained so for so long a time that Dur- 
 rington thought it behoved him to return to 
 the house without wasting more of his 
 precious time upon them. He accordingly 
 retraced his steps, feeling that at least he had 
 scored two points. He had discovered that it 
 was possible to get between the pickets and 
 the mountains unobserved, and he had also 
 learnt that the enemy were going to make 
 some move at midnight. It would behove 
 him to be prepared for them. Before he left 
 the timber, he sat down on a stump to con- 
 sider his position. Though, as I have said, it 
 
304 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 was quite feasible that he could get his party 
 through, he felt that it would be impossible 
 for him to bring the horses from the house 
 round the side of the hill without being 
 observed by the men on guard. If this could 
 not be done, how was the escape to be 
 managed ? The sides of the mountains at 
 the back were so steep that a goat would 
 have found it difficult to scale them; for 
 human beings they were impossible. The 
 enemy evidently knew this, hence their eason 
 for not posting sentries at that point. Had 
 the party been differently composed, they 
 might have got away on foot, but the Presi- 
 dent and Ferrara were old men, while four 
 of the others were women. The stores had 
 also to be taken into consideration. 
 
 He had almost given it up as hopeless when 
 enlightenment came to him in an unexpected 
 fashion. He had risen to his feet, and was 
 making his way as carefully as before through 
 the timber, when he received such a fright as 
 he will not be likely to forget so long as he 
 lives. The wood at that particular place was 
 as dark as the Pit of Tophet. Imagining that 
 he was sufficiently far from the nearest 
 sentries not to be heard, he quickened his 
 steps somewhat, and, as a result, a moment 
 later was stretched at full length upon the 
 
A Maker of Nations. 305 
 
 grass. He had stumbled over something 
 which had been lying down in the shadow, 
 but was now struggling to get on to its feet, 
 snorting vigorously as it did so. In a second 
 he understood the situation. These were the 
 enemy’s horses resting after their day’s work. 
 Why should he not secure them for the use of 
 his party ? He wanted nine, and here were 
 at least fifty for him to choose from. It was 
 a splendid way outof the difficulty, and, over- 
 joyed at his discovery, he made his way back 
 to the house, where he called another meeting 
 of the council and reported his success. 
 
 “I do not anticipate any difficulty,” he 
 said in conclusion, “provided we can but 
 reach the trees unobserved.” 
 
 “ And what are you going to do now ? ” 
 
 “ Eeturn to the horses and prepare them 
 for the journey,” Durrington replied. “ It 
 should not take me very long.” 
 
 This was destined to be a bigger business 
 than he had expected, for he had to make 
 many Journeys to and fro. Eventually, how- 
 ever, the horses were prepared for the Journey, 
 and secured to trees on the outskirts of the 
 camp. In order that they should make no 
 sound, and, what was more important still, 
 leave no tracks behind them, Durrington 
 had taken the precaution to bind up their 
 
 u 
 
3o6 a Maker of Nations. 
 
 feet with cloths. This hindered him greatly, 
 and it was nearly eleven o’clock before he 
 returned to the house to tell his friends that 
 their animals were ready for their use. So 
 proficient was he becoming at his work by 
 this time, that he had now made five journeys 
 backwards and forwards without the enemy 
 disaovering what was about. But the most 
 dangerous part of the business was yet to 
 come. 
 
 “ All is ready now,” he reported, when he 
 had entered the house for the last time. “I 
 think your Excellency, Senor Farrara, the 
 sergeant, and the trooper, had better come 
 first. I will return for the ladies when I have 
 got you safely there.” 
 
 “ But why the sergeant and the trooper ? ” 
 asked His Excellency. “Would they not be 
 better here while you are away ? ” 
 
 Durrington shook his head. 
 
 “ The sergeant will accompany you,” he 
 said. “ The trooper will take my letter to 
 General Martinez.” 
 
 “ But surely you are coming with us ? ” 
 cried the party simultaneously. 
 
 “ No,” said Durrington. “ When I have 
 seen you safely off I shall come back to keep 
 their attention fixed upon the house and to 
 cover your retreat.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 307 
 
 He could not help noticing the agonized 
 look that came into Nita’s face. 
 
 “ But, my dear Durrington,” said the 
 President, placing his hand upon the young 
 man’s arm, “ this will never do. It was 
 part of the arrangement that you should 
 accompany us.” 
 
 “ It is quite impossible, however,” said 
 Durrington. “ You must see that yourself, 
 sir. General Martinez has placed me in 
 charge of these men, and in charge of them I 
 must remain until I am relieved, or we can 
 get away safely.” 
 
 “But my dear lad,” the President began, 
 “ this is preposterous. If you cannot accom- 
 pany us, I for one ” 
 
 Durrington interrupted him. 
 
 “ I pray of you, sir, not to endeavour to 
 shake my resolution,” he said. “It is the 
 only favour I have to ask of you. You will 
 find that the sergeant will take every care for 
 your comfort and safety. Now, if you are 
 ready, let us start. I shall not be happy 
 until I have seen you safely on your way.” 
 
 The President drew Durrington on one 
 side. 
 
 “ Has it struck you,” he said, “ that if 
 you remain here, you await almost certain 
 death ? ” 
 
3o8 a Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ I have thought of that,” said Durringtoui 
 “ But it makes no difference. Believe me, 
 sir, I am qiiite determined ; we shall only 
 waste precious time in arguing.” 
 
 The President sighed, but said no more. 
 A moment later he accompanied Ferrara out 
 of the room, leaving Nita and Durrington 
 alone. She approached him, and took his 
 hand. 
 
 “ Dear heart,” she said, looking up at him 
 with loving eyes, “ do you really deem it 
 your duty to remain here ? ” 
 
 “ I do,” Durrington replied. “ My place is 
 with these men. You would not have me 
 save myself and leave them to their fate ? ” 
 
 “ No, no,” she answered. “But — oh, Dick, 
 I love you so, and — and the thought that 
 you may be — that you may be — oh, I cannot 
 say it.” 
 
 He took her hand and pressed it tightly. 
 
 He would not trust himself to speak. If he 
 died he would have at least the joy of know- 
 ing that it was for her dear sake. At last he 
 led her towards the door. Before they had 
 reached it, however, she uttered a little cry 
 and fell fainting into his arms. He carried 
 her into an adjoining room, where the only 
 light in the house was burning. He found 
 Coralie and the two women servants there. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 309 
 
 The latter were huddled together in a corner, 
 the other stood in the centre of the room, 
 dressed for riding, with a face as impassive as 
 the Sphinx. She looked at Durrington as if 
 she were going to say something, but sud- 
 denly changed her mind, and remained as 
 immovable as before. As he placed Nita upon 
 the couch she recovered, and opened her eyes. 
 He thereupon left her to the care of the 
 women, and himself returned to the j^atio 
 where the men were awaiting his arrival. 
 
 “ Come, gentlemen,” he whispered hoarsely, 
 “ let us be going. Follow me, and imitate 
 me in whatever I do. Remember always 
 that the least noise or mistake may cost us all 
 our lives.” 
 
 In single file they passed out of the patio, 
 and down the short passage towards the 
 door, which, at a signal from Dick, was 
 opened by the trooper mounting guard 
 before it. Then they crept out into the 
 darkness. Stooping low so as to take advan- 
 tage of the protection afforded by the cactus 
 hedge, they passed along the corral, and then, 
 still imitating Durrington in all he did, 
 reached the bend of the hill. In ten minutes 
 from the time they had left the house, they 
 were standing in the wood beside the horses. 
 
 “ Now I must return for the women,” 
 
310 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 whispered Durrington. “ Do not move from 
 here on any account until I come back. 
 Eemember there is a picket only a short 
 distance away, and if you attract their atten- 
 tion you will have the remainder of the force 
 down upon you at once.” 
 
 Having thus impressed the necessity of 
 caution upon them, he retraced his steps 
 to the house. When he reached it he called 
 the women together, told them what they 
 had to do, and then led them out into the 
 darkness as he had done the men. Still 
 Coralie did not speak ; her movements seemed 
 mechanical, like those of a woman walking in 
 her sleep. 
 
 Once more Durrington commenced that 
 well-known crawl. Once more he passed the 
 cactus hedge, turned the corner of the corral, 
 and navigated the bend of the hill in safety. 
 Then, suddenly, when they were scarcely fifty 
 paces from the horses, there was a flash, fol- 
 lowed by the sharp crack of a rifle at the 
 further end of the open plain. It was suc- 
 ceeded by another, and still another. Dur- 
 rington remembered what the two troopers 
 had said. The enemy were about to attack 
 the house, and he was absent from it. 
 
 “ Come,” he said, quickly. “ We must 
 run.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 31 1 
 
 The terrified women followed him towards 
 the spot where the horses and men were 
 waiting. As good fortune had it, the enemy 
 were too much occupied arranging their attack 
 upon the house to notice what was happening 
 on their remote left. For this reason the 
 fugitives were able to reach the horses without 
 attracting attention. 
 
 “ Mount as quickly as you can,” cried 
 Durrington. 
 
 As he spoke he lifted Nita into her saddle. 
 
 “ God bless you, my own dear love,” he 
 whispered as he did so. “ Whatever happens, 
 I love but you; remember that.” 
 
 The only answer was a choking sob. 
 
 Having settled her in the saddle, he turned 
 to help the others, and, when they were 
 mounted, he bade Diaz steer well to the 
 right and take advantage of every cover until 
 they were out of sight and hearing of the 
 enemy. Then, with a last silent hand-shake, 
 he prepared to leave them. Coralie was the 
 last to whom he said good-bye. He held 
 out his hand, and she took it without a 
 word. Then he plunged into the darkness 
 of the wood, leaving them to proceed on 
 their way along the mountain-side. After he 
 had given the trooper his instructions, and 
 had watched him ride ofi to find Martinez, 
 
312 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 he took to his heels and ran across the open 
 plain towards the house. A heavy fire was 
 being maintained by both sides, and bullets 
 were dropping on the devoted estancia like 
 hail. Beaching the door once more, he beat 
 three times upon it with his fists as arranged. 
 The trooper on guard recognised his voice 
 immediately, and opened it to him. Once 
 inside, Durrington turned and shut it after 
 him, replacing the great beam, and turning 
 the key in the lock. Thank God, the women 
 and the President were on their way to a 
 place of safety; and with them out of the 
 way, he felt that he was afraid of nothing. 
 Let the enemy come as soon as they pleased, 
 they would find him ready to receive them. 
 
 The fight that followed, obscure though it 
 may have been, is deserving of a place in 
 history. Twice the enemy attempted to 
 carry the house by storm, and twice the 
 garrison managed to beat them off. The 
 troopers fought with indomitable courage, 
 but, alas ! for their endeavours, their ammu- 
 nition was well nigh at an end. When an 
 examination was made, it was found that 
 scarcely half a dozen cartridges remained 
 between them. At the moment that this 
 state of things was discovered, the enemy 
 had drawn back for a while to count their 
 
A Maker of Nations. 313 
 
 losses, and to prepare themselves for another 
 charge. 
 
 “ I’ve fired my last shot, senor,” said the 
 trooper standing next to Durrington, as he 
 placed his rifle against the wall and loosened 
 his sword in its scabbard. “What are we 
 to do now? ” 
 
 “ Gro on fighting,’’ said Durrington, laconic- 
 ally. “We’ll barricade the windows and cut 
 down every man who tries to force his way 
 in. If we can only hold on for a few hours. 
 General Martinez may be able to send us 
 assistance.” 
 
 At this moment a cry of warning from 
 the far side of the house reached his ears. 
 
 “They are coming again, senor.” And, 
 sure enough, as he looked out of the window, 
 he could descry, in the first grey light of 
 morning, the figures of the enemy emerging 
 from the wood on the other side. With 
 many vivas they rushed across the plain. 
 Severe as their losses had been, they still 
 far outnumbered the little garrison. 
 
 “ It’s no use remaining here, my lads,” 
 cried Durrington, who had suddenly altered 
 his plan. “ They’ll have us like rats in a 
 trap. Out into the verandah, and meet them 
 with your swords.” 
 
 The troopers needed no second bidding. 
 
314 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 The enemy, however, were not going to give 
 them the opportunity they wanted. When 
 they were less than a hundred yards distant, 
 they halted and fired a volley into the 
 verandah. Three of the troopers fell, shot 
 dead — two others were mortally wounded. 
 Durrington felt as if a red-hot knitting-needle 
 had pierced his shoulder, and knew that he 
 had a bullet through his collar bone. The 
 young fellow who had let him in when he 
 returned from seeing the President and his 
 party off, lay at his feet, shot through the 
 side and in the throat. The verandah re- 
 sembled a shambles more than anything else. 
 Once more the enemy came on, firing at 
 intervals as they did so. Durrington, his left 
 arm hanging useless by his side, picked up a 
 sword that had fallen from the hand of a 
 dead trooper, and prepared to sell his life at 
 as dear a price as possible. Suddenly the 
 enemy stopped. A moment later a horse, 
 terrified by the firing, galloped into sight, 
 and pulled up before the verandah. On it, 
 hatless, and with her beautiful hair streaming 
 in the wind, sat Coralie Vanhoysen. Almost 
 at the same instant some fiend among the 
 enemy fired. She gave a shriek, clutched at 
 the horse’s neck, and, missing it, tumbled 
 from her saddle to the ground. Then the 
 
“She gave a shriek . . . and tumbled from the saddle.” 
 
 A Maker of Nations^ [Page 314 
 
A Maker of Nations. 315 
 
 world seemed to rock to and fro before Bar- 
 rington’s eyes, until a great black cloud 
 covered it. He tried to pull himself to- 
 gether, but in vain. His senses were leaving 
 him ; then, as the enemy rushed past Coralie 
 and entered the verandah, he fell upon the 
 floor unconscious. 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 W HEN he recovered his senses, he stag- 
 gered to his feet and looked about 
 him. It was a piteous sight that met his 
 gaze. The verandah itself, and the gravel 
 path beyond, were strewn with bodies. His 
 handful of men, true to his orders, had 
 literally fought to the death, and now only 
 he himself and two others remained of the 
 fine body of men who had left the port the 
 previous morning. These two stood at the 
 further end of the verandah, their hands tied 
 behind their backs. 
 
 Durrington passed his hands across his 
 eyes. He seemed to remember, as if it were 
 a part of some other life, having seen Coralie 
 fall from a horse’s back. Could it really 
 have happened, or had he only dreamed it ? 
 
 “Was there a woman shot here ? ” he 
 asked of one of the enemy’s sentries who 
 stood by him. 
 
 “Yes,” said the man. “She’s in there, 
 dying.” 
 
 S16 
 
A Maker of Nations. 317 
 
 “ Take me to her,” he said, and then 
 followed the other into the house. 
 
 He found Coralie in Nita’s pretty boudoir, 
 stretched upon a couch. Her face was deathly 
 pale, and her eyes seemed clouded, as if she 
 were only half conscious. Durrington crossed 
 the room and stood beside her. 
 
 “Dick,” she said, opening her eyes and 
 looking up at him. “Do you realise that I 
 am dying ? ” 
 
 “ Dying, Coralie ? ” he said, as if he could 
 not believe that he had heard aright. “ No, 
 not dying.” 
 
 In a moment all his antagonism had van- 
 ished, and he only remembered that she was 
 the woman he had once loved. He knelt 
 beside her and took her hand. A convulsive 
 shiver swept over her. 
 
 “ Yes, Dick,” she answered, speaking huskily, 
 after a short silence. “ I am dying, and I am 
 glad that it is so. Now I want to say some- 
 thing to you while I have strength to do it. 
 Do you know, Dick, that it was I who caused 
 all this trouble? I did it because I loved 
 you, and because I was jealous of Nita. 
 That letter I gave you to take to Spielman 
 was to tell him that you were in love with 
 her, and that you intended giving information 
 to the President concerning the Ee volution.” 
 
31 8 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 “ I guessed that it was you who told 
 him,” Dick replied. “ But we won’t speak 
 of that now, Coralie. Let me try to make 
 you a little more comfortable.” 
 
 “ No, no,” she said, “ don’t move me, it 
 would be useless. I am beyond comfort 
 now. I want you to ” 
 
 Her voice gave way, and she was silent 
 once more. Dick wiped the blood from her 
 lips. He could see that the end was not 
 far distant. Poor Coralie ! He had been 
 angry with her, but he felt that he could 
 forgive her everything now. After a silence 
 that lasted more than a minute, she spoke 
 again. 
 
 “ Do you know why I left them and 
 came back, Dick?” she asked then. The 
 other shook his head. 
 
 “ I came,” she said feebly, speaking in 
 gasps, “ because you were here, and because 
 I knew that you would fight to the bitter 
 end. So, as we turned the corner of the 
 Pass, I dropped behind, and, wheeling my 
 horse round, rode back as fast as I could 
 come, to die with you.” 
 
 She had just strength to finish. When 
 she had done so she smiled feebly at him. 
 There were only a few grains of sand left 
 in the hour glass of her life, and, as he 
 
A Maker of Nations. 319 
 
 recognised this fact, a feeling of remorse, 
 for he knew not what, came over Durrington. 
 He seemed to be no longer sitting in the 
 daintily furnished boudoir. In fancy he 
 was with Coralie on a terrace that over- 
 looked a moonlit sea. The faint sound 
 of music floated up to them, and mingled 
 with the rippling of the water on the beach 
 below. He was holding his companion’s 
 hand, telling her that never, so long as the 
 world should last, would their two lives be 
 parted. Then he woke from the dream, to 
 find himself back again in the room, hold- 
 ing Coralie’s clammy hand. 
 
 “ Dick,” she whispered, “ do you remem- 
 ber that night at Cannes when we sat 
 together in the gardens, and you told me 
 that you loved me ? ” 
 
 Dick admitted that he did, and a little 
 sigh escaped him. 
 
 Coralie tried to laugh. 
 
 “We were never to part,” she continued, 
 “ and when death came to take one of us, 
 he was to find us still together. Death 
 has come now, and, see, we are together, 
 are we not ? You are holding my hand, 
 and you will close my eyes when all is 
 over. Even Nita cannot rob me of that, 
 can she? ” 
 
320 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 The instinct of jealousy remained with 
 her to the last. Even at this supreme 
 moment she could not forget that the other 
 had won the love that she herself had once 
 possessed. Dick waited for her to speak 
 again. But she did not do so. Growing 
 alarmed, he rose and stooped over her. She 
 would never speak again. Coralie was dead. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 N investment remains an investment so 
 
 long as it shows even the remotest 
 chance of a profit,” said Spielman to him- 
 self, as he took a cigarette from his case 
 and lit it. “ It becomes a dead loss, how- 
 ever, and should be at once written off the 
 hooks when both interest and capital have 
 disappeared. That seems to be the case in 
 this particular instance. , Yakoob, my friend,” 
 he continued, to his faithful Albanian servant 
 who was engaged at a table at the end of 
 the room making him a pot of coffee ; “ mark 
 my words, before very long we shall be called 
 upon to admit that we have made a mis- 
 take for once in our lives.” The Albanian 
 grunted in reply, and then continued his 
 preparation of the coffee as unconcernedly 
 as if the other had not spoken. He still 
 believed in his master. He had served him 
 for so long that it required something more 
 important than the mere fizzling out of a 
 South American Eevolution to shake his 
 
 X 
 
 321 
 
32^ A Maker of Nations. 
 
 faith. There might be wars and rumours of 
 wars, mue^, marching up and down and 
 shooting of men, but what was that to him 
 compared with the fact that Spielman liked 
 his cofiee prepared in a particular manner? 
 Provided the ingredients were to hand, he 
 would have made it as composedly on an 
 iceberg or in the centre of the Sahara as 
 he was doing at the present moment. 
 
 When he had drunk his coSee, Spielman 
 went to the window and looked out upon 
 the village street. It was the same in 
 which Durrington had met Nita Cavarro 
 on the morning following his arrival in 
 Constancia, but at the moment that he 
 looked it presented a vastly different aspect 
 from what it had done on that auspicious 
 occasion. Early as the hour was (it was 
 only a few minutes after sunrise), the streets 
 presented an animated appearance. A field 
 battery was rumbling along to take up its 
 position to the left of the village ; a squadron 
 of Revolutionary Cavalry was parading in 
 an open space a hundred yards or so down 
 the street, while a line regiment was hard 
 at work on the right, loopholing the houses 
 in preparation for the battle that was de- 
 clared to be imminent. Here and there a 
 little nigger boy, who had been left behind 
 
A Maker of Nations. 323 
 
 by, or had deserted his parents when they 
 had fled the village, stood and watched what 
 went on with wide open eyes. Overhead 
 the sky was an azure blue, and against it 
 the waving palm fronds across the way con- 
 trasted with admirable effect. As Spielman 
 watched, the sound of voices reached him 
 from an adjoining room, El mal que no 
 tiene cura es locura” he said to himself as 
 he listened. “Now that they have taken 
 to quarrelling among themselves, the sum- 
 mit of their folly is attained. What a fool 
 .1 was ever to have had anything to do 
 with them ! A nice position I’m in. Dur- 
 rington has gone over to the enemy, and 
 is probably dead by this time; MacCartney 
 has thrown up his command, and will be 
 shot by order of the Committee before sun- 
 down; and now, to crown all, they have 
 the audacity to accuse me of starting the 
 rising for my own ends. As if I should 
 ever be likely to do it for anybody else’s, 
 much less theirs ! From their behaviour 
 one would suppose that Eevolution Pro- 
 moting is another branch of the Charity 
 Organisation Society. However, I shall 
 hope soon to undeceive them.” 
 
 At that moment O’Donoghue and two 
 other members of the Eevolutionary Com- 
 
324 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 mittee entered the room. Their counte- 
 nances were flushed, and from the expres- 
 sions upon them it was very plain that the 
 meeting they had just adjourned had been 
 a more than usually stormy one. Spielman 
 turned to greet them with what was almost 
 a look of contempt upon his face. 
 
 “ Well, gentlemen,” he said, and his voice 
 had just the suspicion of a sneer in it. 
 “ Pray what decision have you arrived at ? ” 
 “We have not come to any decision at 
 all,” said O’Donoghue, with a glance at 
 his companions. He was about to add 
 that he did not believe they ever would 
 do so, and then to go on to expound his 
 views on the subject of the approaching 
 battle, when a noise outside caused him to 
 desist. A moment later the door was 
 thrown open, and Larralde entered the 
 room. The other faces brightened per- 
 ceptibly. 
 
 “ Where is Cavarro ? ” inquired O’Dono- 
 ghue, breathlessly. “Have you brought 
 him with you ? ” 
 
 Larralde shook his head. 
 
 “ The old fox managed to escape with 
 his daughter after all,” he said. “ We’ve 
 got the next best person, however ; we’ve 
 got Durrington.” 
 
A Maker of Nations. 325 
 
 Spielman smiled pleasantly. It was the 
 same in every case. They couldn’t catch the 
 President or they couldn’t do this, but they’d 
 got the next best person, or they’d done the 
 next best thing. One moment’s considera- 
 tion should have been sufficient to show 
 them that Durrington could not be of any 
 sort of assistance to them now. Larralde, 
 however, had given the word of command, 
 and before he could say anything Durrington 
 was brought into the room. His arm had 
 been bandaged, but the long ride had told 
 upon his condition. Anxiety had made him 
 almost an old man, but he was not going 
 to let them see that he realised how desperate 
 his position was. 
 
 “ Good - morning, Spielman,” he said in 
 English, nodding affably to his old employer, 
 who was standing by the window ; “ so we 
 meet again, after all ! ” 
 
 “ After all,” Spielman repeated, quietly. 
 “I’m afraid, however, Dick my lad, you’ve 
 done it this time. I leave my own feelings 
 out of the question, but I warn you that our 
 friends here are not best pleased with your 
 latest endeavours to promote the happiness of 
 the Eepublic.” 
 
 “ You scarcely express our feelings,” said 
 O’Donoghue with dignity. “ There can be 
 
326 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 no doubt, I think, that Mr. Durrington has 
 deliberately broken faith with us.” 
 
 “ He has proved himself a traitor,” said 
 another of the men. “ As soon as he was 
 conversant with our secrets, he went over to 
 the enemy. Had he not warned General 
 Martinez of our intention to seize the Port, 
 we should have been in possession there by 
 this time, instead of losing two thousand men 
 in an unsuccessful attempt to take it.” 
 
 “If things go against us to-day, as I 
 prophesy they will, unless we do as I suggest, 
 we shall be ruined,” said the other, reverting 
 to their old disagreement. 
 
 “ Well ! ye know what ye’ve got to do to 
 put it right,” cried O’Donoghue. “If ye 
 don’t do as I say, ye may as well throw up 
 the whole thing, lock, stock, and barrel, and 
 run for your lives.” 
 
 “We are each of us entitled to our own 
 opinion, I think,” said the man who had 
 accused Durrington of playing the traitor. 
 
 The old wrangle recommenced, and for the 
 moment Durrington and his misdeeds were 
 forgotten. They had been debating all night, 
 and upon no single point could they agree ; 
 yet with every moment the hour of battle was 
 coming closer. They appealed to Spielman. 
 He, however, shook his head. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 327 
 
 “ Don’t ask me,” he said. “ You know 
 my opinions quite well, and you won’t follow 
 them. Consequently, I wash my hands of the 
 affair. I have done my best for you, but you 
 will not listen. From this time forward I am 
 only a spectator ; you must get somebody else 
 to do the work.” 
 
 O’Donoghue suddenly brought his fist down 
 with a crash upon the table. “ It’s just what 
 I expected,” he said. “ You’ve got us into 
 this muddle, Spielman, and now that we are 
 in a fix, and you see the case is hopeless, you 
 back out of it. Sure, you’ve swindled us. 
 You promised us that the Port should be in 
 our hands by daybreak yesterday, and the 
 Capital by mid-day. Neither of these things 
 has happened. You promised us that the 
 President should be a prisoner by nightfall, 
 and that you would proclaim the new Govern- 
 ment to-day. What is the result ? Martinez 
 is still in possession of the Capital and Port, 
 Cavarro is at large, and here we are, boxed up 
 in this corner like rats in a trap. But we are 
 not beaten yet, whatever they may think. 
 And while we are on the subject, gentlemen, 
 let us decide how we shall punish this traitor. 
 It will not take us a minute to settle that.” 
 
 He glared at Durrington as he spoke ; if 
 looks could have killed, he would have 
 
328 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 destroyed him on the spot. The other, how- 
 ever, was not affected by his menaces. 
 
 “ Come gentlemen, you know what he has 
 done. What is his fate to be ? ” 
 
 “ Death,” cried the Committee, with one 
 accord. “ That is the only punishment for a 
 traitor.” 
 
 Spielman brushed the dust off his elegant 
 riding boots with a silk pocket-handkerchief. 
 In spite of the trick the other had played 
 him, he had still a liking for Durrington. 
 
 “ Forgive me,” he said, “ but I cannot help 
 thinking you are in the wrong. I am his 
 employer, not you.” 
 
 “ He has passed out of your control,” said 
 Larralde. “ He has proved himself a traitor 
 to the Eepublic, and the Eepublic has passed 
 sentence upon him.” 
 
 “ Did not I tell you how it would be, 
 Dick ? ” he said ; “ why on earth couldn’t 
 you have stood by us and not have got 
 yourself into this fix ? But what is the use 
 of talking ? We all make fools of ourselves 
 sometimes. If these people had only left 
 the management of affairs to me, instead of 
 interfering, I could have pulled the whole 
 business through ; as it is, the game is played 
 out, and we have received checkmate. They 
 shoot you to-day — the President will shoot 
 
A Maker of Nations. 329 
 
 them in a fortnight. So the pendulum 
 swings and the balance is adjusted. Every 
 thing in life is a question of opportunit5^ 
 
 ‘ Saiime nicht, dich zu erdreisten, 
 
 Wenn die Menge zaudernd schweift ; 
 
 Alles kann der Edle leisten 
 Der versteht und rasch ergreift.* 
 
 he quoted softly. 
 
 “ I suppose I am to be shot then ? ” said 
 Durrington, as calmly as if it were a matter 
 in which he was only remotely concerned. 
 
 The Committee looked at each other. 
 
 The novelty of the situation weighed 
 heavily upon them. 
 
 Spielman saw his opportunity. 
 
 “ I have already made a suggestion,” he 
 said. “ I will, however, venture upon one 
 more. You can act upon it or reject it, as 
 you think best.” 
 
 “ What is the suggestion ? ” asked O’Dono- 
 ghue, suspiciously. 
 
 “ It is that you should defer consideration 
 of this matter until you see how you fare in 
 the battle to-day,” he answered. “ Lock our 
 friend Durrington up in the meantime, if you 
 please. Then, if you win to-day, you can act 
 as you think fit towards him afterwards. If 
 you are beaten you will have a hostage in 
 
330 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 your hands, and can demand your own terms. 
 You may take it from me that you will stand 
 in a better light with the President if you are 
 able to deliver him intact than if you have 
 destroyed him. There is a fair amount of 
 common sense in my plan, believe me.” 
 
 The others consulted apart for a few 
 moments, and then returned to the table to 
 say that they agreed to Spielman’s proposal. 
 Durrington was accordingly placed in charge 
 of a guard and marched down the street, until 
 they arrived at a building, which, in more 
 peaceful times, had been the village church. 
 Here they halted. A sentry was marching 
 up and down before it, but when Durrington 
 arrived he paused in his perambulations and 
 unlocked the door. 
 
 “ Enter,” he said, as soon as he had been 
 acquainted with the Committee’s order. 
 
 Durrington did so, and the door was closed 
 behind him. He heard the key turned in the 
 look, and almost at the same instant became 
 aware of another figure standing half way 
 up the aisle of the little building It was 
 MacCartney. 
 
 “ Good heavens, Dick,” cried the latter, 
 as he hastened forward to greet him. “Is 
 it really you ? ” 
 
 “ Yes, it is, sure enough,” Durrington said 
 
A Maker of Nations. 331 
 
 in answer. “ But what are you doing here ? 
 I thought there was a battle coming ofi, and 
 that you were in command ? ” 
 
 “ So I should have been, but I resigned,” 
 MacCartney replied. “ There were too many 
 masters in the business for me, and certain 
 things occurred of which I did not approve. 
 I accordingly cleared out ; they were too 
 quick for me, however, and locked me up 
 here in case I should get away. They never 
 know w^hen they may want me, you see. It 
 looks, old man, as if we had brought our pigs 
 to a pretty market this time. That Philippine 
 business was bad enough ; this, however, is a 
 thousand times worse. But here am I drivell- 
 ing on like this when I want to hear your 
 news. Tell me about yourself. How do 
 you come to be here ? I thought you had 
 got safely away. And, by Jove, you’re 
 wounded, too; tell me everything.” 
 
 Dick told him as much as he thought 
 advisable of what had befallen him since 
 they parted at the estancia nearly a week 
 before. He did not, however, acquaint him 
 with the fact that his death was threatened 
 that evening. Such a communication could 
 only have caused him anxiety and unneces- 
 sary pain, and there was no need to add to 
 their present troubles. 
 
332 
 
 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 He brought his narrative to a conclusion 
 with an account of Coralie’s death. 
 
 “Poor little Coralie ! ” said Mao. “Who 
 would have thought she would meet her fate 
 over a miserable failure like this ? ” 
 
 They talked for a little while, then Dick, 
 who had not closed his eyes for three nights, 
 went across to a heap of fodder stacked in 
 a corner, and lay down upon it. Before Mao 
 could have counted twenty, he was sound 
 asleep. The drowsy god was kinder to him 
 than man had been. He dreamt that he 
 was walking in the garden at Constancia 
 with Nita; he could hear her soft voice 
 telling him that she loved him, and assuring 
 him that she would be true to him all her 
 life. Then, with the wonderful magic that 
 prevails in the land of dreams, the scene 
 shifted, and he and Nita were riding side by 
 side through the shouting populace of the 
 Capital. It was their wedding day, and 
 everyone had turned out to do them honour. 
 Then, suddenly, crash went a gun. With a 
 start he woke, to find MacCartney attempting 
 to climb the wall in order to reach one of 
 the narrow windows. The cannonading was 
 no creation of his fancy. It was going on all 
 round them, and mixed up with it was the 
 crack and rattle of musketry. Shells were 
 
A Maker of Nations. 333 
 
 bursting overhead, and the sound of cavalry 
 going by at a gallop came from the street 
 outside. Durrington rose and called to 
 MacCartney, who by this time had managed 
 to reach his window, to know what was 
 happening. 
 
 “I can see nothing on account of the 
 palms,” MacCartney replied ; “ it’s pretty 
 
 certain, however, that the action is now 
 safely under weigh. Heaven grant they 
 don’t drop a shell through this roof before 
 they’ve done.” 
 
 His sleep had done him good, and Dur- 
 rington felt in better spirits now than he 
 had been for the last twenty-four hours. If, 
 as he hoped, the Government party won the 
 day, it was very possible that the leaders of 
 the revolution would do as Spielman had 
 suggested, and attempt to curry favour with 
 the conquerors by handing him over to 
 them alive. In that case — but he dared not 
 meditate too much upon it. Hour after hour 
 they waited and listened and speculated as 
 to what went on outside. The cannonading 
 continued without cessation. Once a shell 
 burst in a house across the street and set fire 
 to it. They could feel the heat of the flames 
 in their prison. Later on another dropped 
 in the street outside at the moment that a 
 
334 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 battery of artillery was passing, and for up- 
 wards of an hour afterwards the dying horses 
 lay moaning and squealing in the dust. 
 Whoever might be winning, it was plain 
 that both sides were fighting desperately for 
 victory. 
 
 “Hark! What was that?” cried Mac- 
 Cartney, holding up his hand as if he 
 thought he could possibly obtain silence. 
 
 A dull roar could be heard in the dis- 
 tance. It gradually came closer. 
 
 “ I know that sound,” said MacCartney. 
 “ Our troops are being driven back. That 
 means the Government is winning all along 
 the line.” 
 
 The words had scarcely left his mouth 
 before a shell burst on the right-hand 
 corner of the building, shattering the wall 
 and leaving a large hole nearly Wenty feet 
 wide, staring them in the face. As if by a 
 miracle, neither MacCartney nor Durrington 
 was hurt, though the sentry at the door 
 was killed. 
 
 “ That was the hand of Providence,” said 
 MacCartney, as soon as they had recovered 
 from the shock. “ Come, Dick, let us get 
 out of this while we have the chance.” 
 
 Together they made for the open hole in 
 the wall. As they climbed out over the 
 
A Maker of Nations. 335 
 
 debris into the sunshine, disorganised crowds 
 of men were appearing from the by-streets. 
 Some still carried their rifles, some had 
 thrown them away in order to accelerate 
 their flight, while overhead shells still 
 whistled and rifle bullets screamed. A dust- 
 covered, blood-bespattered man, with the 
 light of madness in his eyes, came running 
 towards them. Suddenly he stopped and 
 looked at MacCartney. He recognised him 
 immediately, and shouted wildly as he 
 did so: 
 
 “ The General ! the General who deserted 
 us and left us to die.” 
 
 Almost before anyone had realised what 
 had happened, the cry was taken up on all 
 sides, and the crowd of maniacs, forgetting 
 their fear of death in the excitement of 
 their rage, and seeing before them the man 
 who, as rumour had it, had deserted them 
 in the hour of need, and so brought about 
 their defeat, they rushed towards him with 
 the intention of reeking their vengeance 
 upon him before it was too late. Durrington 
 and MacCartney fell back against the wall. 
 
 “Keep behind me, Dick,” shouted the 
 latter. “ You can do nothing with your 
 wounded arm.” 
 
 He stooped and picked up a sword that 
 
33^ A Maker of Nations. 
 
 had been dropped by a trooper in his flight. 
 In less time than it takes to tell he had 
 the mob at bay. Cutting, slashing, thrust- 
 ing, and parrying, he kept them at the 
 sword point. Cool and collected, as if he 
 were fencing in a school of arms with 
 buttoned foils, he showed the mob that 
 brute force was of but little avail when 
 pitted against science. But it could not 
 last very long. Somewhere at the back of 
 the crowd a rifle went up, a trigger was 
 pulled, and a bullet sped upon its fatal 
 errand. Just as he had warded off a blow 
 at his comrade’s head, and cut down a man 
 who was thrusting at himself, MacCartney, 
 sword in hand, dropped at Dick’s feet, shot 
 through the heart. At the same instant 
 the sound of horse hoofs was heard, and a 
 squadron of Government cavalry appeared 
 round the corner in pursuit of the fugitives. 
 Durrington looked up and saw that the trooper 
 nearest him was none other than Diaz him- 
 self, whom he had imagined to be in hiding 
 with the President. The recognition was 
 mutual, and, with an exclamation of astonish- 
 ment, Diaz spurred his horse towards him, 
 as he did so cutting down a man who was 
 lifting his rifle to fire. 
 
 Durrington had just time to grip the 
 
A Maker of Nations, 337 
 
 •worthy sergeant’s hand "when the world 
 swam before him, and for the second time 
 in forty-eight hours he fainted away. When 
 he recovered himself, he was lying upon a 
 couch in the same room in which he had 
 been sentenced to death by the Eevolutionary 
 Conmittee that morning. He looked up, and 
 immediately he uttered a cry of surprise. The 
 President was sitting beside him. 
 
 “ My dear boy,” said the latter, holding his 
 hand, while tears stood in his eyes. “ Thank 
 God, you are spared to us. We have had 
 a terrible fright on your account. When 
 the relief party sent by General Martinez 
 reached us, we were told that you had been 
 killed at the estancia. Thank God, you 
 are safe. 
 
 “And Nita?” 
 
 A little smile flickered round the Presi- 
 dent’s mouth. 
 
 “ She is safe at the Capital. Our troops 
 have been victorious everywhere. The trouble 
 that we feared so much only lasted a few 
 days, after all, and now the Bevolutionists are 
 coming in by hundreds to sue for pardon.” 
 
 * # * 
 
 An hour later the President and his staS, 
 with General Martinez and the greater por- 
 tion of the conquering army, set out for the 
 
 Y 
 
338 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 Capital. An attempt was made to persuade 
 Durrington to remain where he was until a 
 carriage could be sent to fetch him, but he 
 would on no account agree to this proposal. 
 He declared that he intended entering the 
 city with the victorious army. Accordingly, 
 a horse was found and he was placed upon 
 it. Hiding behind the President and the 
 Commander-in-Chief, he made his way up the 
 Plaza between the shouting lines of citizens. 
 Bands played, flags waved, and bells pealed. 
 And with it all Durrington knew that in a 
 few minutes he would be face to face with 
 Nita once more. But behind his joy was an 
 ever-present sorrow. He remembered Coralie, 
 and when he thought of MacCartney he could 
 see nothing of the crowd around him. 
 
 As soon as they had seen that the day was 
 lost, Gonsalvez, Larralde, and O’Donoghue 
 had fled into the mountains, where they were 
 eventually recaptured and brought back to 
 the Capital for punishment. Of Spielman 
 nothing had been heard. Eealising that his 
 presence w^as no longer required, he had 
 followed his usual custom and had quietly 
 taken himself ofi to a place of safety, where 
 he intended remaining until he could get 
 clear away. All these things Durrington 
 learnt at a later date. 
 
A Maker of Nations. 339 
 
 Eventually they reached the Presidential 
 Palace. The gates had already been thrown 
 open, and a guard of honour presented arms 
 as the leaders of the procession passed into 
 the grounds, while the populace remained 
 outside to cheer what was left. The President, 
 the Commander-in-Chief, their staffs, and 
 Durrington dismounted at the steps leading 
 up to the great doors. 
 
 They entered the hall, where Nita was 
 waiting to receive them. Her father clasped 
 her in his arms, Martinez kissed her hand, 
 and then there was a pause. 
 
 Everyone wondered what was about to 
 happen ; only the President guessed what the 
 silence meant. If the truth must be told, 
 she had seen Durrington standing among 
 the crowd of officers. Then, with that in- 
 comparable grace that always characterised 
 her movements, she made her way towards 
 him, and, taking his hands in hers, kissed 
 him on the forehead before all present. 
 
 “But for you we should not be standing 
 here,” she said. “ I thank you for our 
 lives.” 
 
 After that, as someone said, more was 
 needed. 
 
 Ten days later Durrington stood on the 
 
340 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 deck of a yacht that had put into a little 
 fishing village, fifty miles below Quirique. 
 Standing beside him, as trim and neat as 
 ever, was Spielman. He had a cigarette in 
 his mouth and a yachting cap upon his 
 head, and he would have been a clever 
 stranger who could have told that for ten 
 days past he had been hiding from the 
 wrath of an outraged Government. 
 
 “ And so you were able,” he said, ‘‘ to 
 persuade the President to permit me to 
 leave the country unmolested. Well, I’m 
 sure I’m vastly obliged to you, Durrington. 
 All things considered, he might have made 
 himself extremely unpleasant, had he wanted 
 to. I am afraid I should have done so for 
 him, had things turned out otherwise.” 
 
 “ You say so, but I don’t believe that you 
 would,” Durrington replied. “You might 
 have shot me at the estancia that evening 
 when you heard from Coralie that I was going 
 over to the enemy, but you did not do so ; 
 you might have allowed O’Donoghue to have 
 put an end to me that morning in the village, 
 but you did not do so ; you are usually a very 
 fair Promoter of Revolutions, but I fancy you 
 are a poor murderer. At least, I like to 
 think so.” 
 
 “I wonder if you really do?” said Spiel- 
 
A Maker of Nations. 341 
 
 man, softly, as if he were trying to solve a 
 problem that interested him. 
 
 Durrington offered no reply. 
 
 “I remember,” the other continued 
 presently, “ that in Cochin China you — ^but 
 there, for Heaven’s sake, don’t let us get 
 reminiscent. This has been an unfortunate 
 business throughout. It was bad for poor 
 Coralie, and it was equally so for MacCartney. 
 Poor old Mac ! Would you be surprised, 
 Durrington, if I were to tell you that I 
 honoured that man more than anyone I have 
 ever met ? When I heard of his death I was 
 more grieved than I have ever been. But, 
 after all, why should we be sorry for him ? 
 He died as he always said he should like to 
 do, that is to say, fighting.” 
 
 Durrington turned away to look over 
 the stern. There was a long silence, then 
 Spielman said: 
 
 “And so you have really made up your 
 mind to give up roving and to settle down ? ” 
 
 “ Yes,” said Durrington. “ I am about 
 to enter the Presidential Army It’s not a 
 great service, but it is a very pleasant one. 
 There may be chances in it, too, for it looks 
 as if there is likely to be trouble with the 
 neighbouring State before very long. In that 
 case they will want all the men of experience 
 
342 A Maker of Nations. 
 
 they can get hold of. And what do you 
 intend doing ? ” 
 
 “ I scarcely know,” Spielman replied. 
 “ There are several things offering. There’s 
 a little Eastern Europe affair brewing that 
 seems as if it might be turned into something 
 promising. Don Carlos, also, as things are 
 just now, has the appearance of a profitable 
 investment. I fancy, however, I shall be 
 quiet for a time. With Coralie, yourself, and 
 MacCartney gone, I feel like a lost child. I 
 suppose, Dick, you will never come back ? ” 
 
 He looked a little anxiously at his com- 
 panion. 
 
 “ Never,” said Dick. 
 
 “You really think you will be satisfied to 
 spend the rest of your days in such a quiet 
 little Eepublic as this ? ” 
 
 “ I shall be quite satisfied, I am sure,” 
 Durrington answered. 
 
 “But why are you so sure ? Tell me that.” 
 
 “For the simple reason that I am to be 
 married to-morrow,” the other replied. 
 
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WORKS BY 
 
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 THE MAN AND HIS KINGDOM. 
 
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 AS A MAN LIVES. 
 
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 A MONK OF CRUTA. 
 
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 A DAUGHTER OF THE MARIONIS. 
 
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Works by Ethel Turner. 
 
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 THE CAMP AT WANDINONQ. 
 
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 MISS BOBBIE. 
 
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 THE LITTLE LARRIKIN. 
 
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 SEVEN LITTLE AUSTRALIANS. 
 
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2/- Copyright Novels 
 
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 HE Novels included are by some of the most 
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 1 THE CURSE OF CLEMENT WAYNFLETE. 
 
 By Bertram Mitford. Illustrated by Stanley L. 
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 2 THE CRIME AND THE CRIMINAL. 
 
 By Richard Marsh. Illustrated by Harold Piffard. 
 
 3 CAPTAIN SHANNON. 
 
 By CouLsoN Kernahan. Illustrated by F. S. Wilson. 
 
 4 CHRONICLES OF MARTIN HEWITT. 
 
 By Arthur Morrison. Illustrated by D. Murray 
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 5 THE QUEEN OF NIGHT. 
 
 By Headon Hill. Illustrated by Harold Piffard. 
 
 6 A MAN’S FOES. 
 
 By E. H. Strain. Illustrated by A. Forestjkr 
 
 7 A SECRET SERVICE. 
 
 By William Le Queux. Illustrated by Harold 
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 8 A VELDT OFFICIAL. 
 
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 9 WOMAN, THE MYSTERY. 
 
 By Henry Herman. Illustrated by George Hutchinson. 
 
 10 MARTIN HEWITT, INVESTIGATOR. 
 
 By Arthur Morrison. Illustrated by Sidney Paget. 
 
 11 A STOLEN LIFE. 
 
 By M. McDonnell Bodkin. Illustrated by Frances 
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2/. COFYRIGHT NOVELS— contimud. 
 
 12 A SOCIAL HIGHWAYMAN. 
 
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 13 the datchet diamonds. 
 
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 14 AT MIDNIGHT. 
 
 By Ada Cambridge. Illustrated by P. Frenzeny 
 and others. 
 
 15 LADY TURPIN. 
 
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 16 ADVENTURES OF MARTIN HEWITT. 
 
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 17 THE EXPIATION OF WYNNE PALLISER. 
 
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 By Alice Maud Meadows. Illustrated by St. Clair 
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 19 THE DORRINQTON DEED BOX. 
 
 By Arthur Morrison. Illustrated by Stanley L. 
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 20 THE RIGHT SORT. 
 
 By Mrs. E. Kennard. Illustrated by Edgar Giberne. 
 
 21 BEACON FIRES. 
 
 By Headon Hill. Illustrated by Stanley L. Wood. 
 
 22 FORDHAM’S FEUD. 
 
 By Bertram Mitford. Illustrated by Stanley L. Wood. 
 
 23 THE DWARF’S CHAMBER. 
 
 By Fergus Hume. Illustrated by Percy F. S. Spence 
 
 24 THE VOYAGE OF THE “ PULO WAY.” 
 
 By W. Carlton Dawe. Illustrated by J. Ambrose 
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THE K&o 
 
 Nineteenth Century Classics 
 
 Edited by Clement K. Shorter. 
 
 CROWN 8vo, ART CANVAS GILT. 2s. 6d. 
 
 'TTHROUGHOUT the whole history of English literature there 
 is no period which impresses one with its variety and 
 helpfulness in any way comparable to the first half of the 
 nineteenth century. No period certainly has produced so many 
 books which it is essential for our own age to read. The idea 
 of “ The Nineteenth Century Classics ” is to place these 
 permanent treasures of the century before the public in an 
 attractive and serviceable form. Each volume is beautifully 
 printed on fine paper, well bound, with photogravure frontispiece. 
 
 1 SARTOR RESARTUS. By Thomas Carlyle. With an 
 
 Introduction by Edward Dowden, LL.D. 
 
 2 ALARIC AT ROME, and other Poems. By Matthew 
 
 Arnold. With an Introduction by Richard Garnett, C.B., LL.D. 
 
 3 HEROES AND HERO - WORSHIP. By Thomas 
 
 Carlyle. With an Introduction by Edmund Gosse. 
 
 4 PROMETHEUS BOUND, and other Poems. By 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. With an Introduction by Alice 
 Meynell. 
 
 5 BELLS AND POMEGRANATES, and other Poems. 
 
 By Robert Browning. With an Introduction by Thos. J. Wise. 
 
 6 BELLS AND POMEGRANATES (Second Series). By 
 
 Robert Browning. 
 
 7 PAST AND PRESENT. By Thomas Carlyle. With 
 
 an Introduction by Frederic Harrison. 
 
 8 THE OPIUM EATER. By Thomas de Quincey. With 
 
 an Introduction by Richard le Gallienne. 
 
 9 CRANFORD. By Mrs. Gaskell. With an Introduction 
 
 by W. Robertson Nicoll, LL.D. 
 
 10 THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE. 
 
 By Oliver Wendell Holmes. With an Introduction by Andrew 
 Lang. 
 
 n SCENES OF CLERICAL LIFE. By George Eliot. 
 
 With an Introduction and Biography by Clement K. Shorter. 
 
 LONDON : WARD, LOCK & CO., LTD. 
 
You cannot beat the Best. 
 
 the 
 
 Windsor 
 
 MAGAZINE 
 
 . . Always contains the . • 
 
 BEST WORK BY THE 
 
 . . BEST AUTHORS . . 
 
 and best artists. 
 
 It has eclipsed every other Sixpenny Magazine, and has 
 achieved the most Brilliant Success of the day. 
 
 Holds the Record 
 
 for giving the Best Serial Story of the 
 Year. 
 
 Holds the Record 
 
 for giving Splendid Exclusive Articles by 
 
 recognised specialists. 
 
 Holds the Record 
 
 for being the Most Varied, the Most 
 Entertaining, and the Most Instructive 
 
 of Magazines. 
 
 * * * 
 
 The “Times” calls it “Wonderful.” 
 
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