's country. Look at the mountains! Nature itself seems to cry to us
Separate!«
    She made an energetic gesture of negation. A silence fell.
    »Oh, yes, I know it's contrary to the doctrine laid down in the »History of
Fifty Years' Misrule.« I am only trying to be sensible. But my sense seems
always to give you cause for offence. Have I startled you very much with this
perfectly reasonable aspiration?«
    She shook her head. No, she was not startled, but the idea shocked her early
convictions. Her patriotism was larger. She had never considered that
possibility.
    »It may yet be the means of saving some of your convictions,« he said,
prophetically.
    She did not answer. She seemed tired. They leaned side by side on the rail
of the little balcony, very friendly, having exhausted politics, giving
themselves up to the silent feeling of their nearness, in one of those profound
pauses that fall upon the rhythm of passion. Towards the plaza end of the street
the glowing coals in the brazeros of the market women cooking their evening meal
gleamed red along the edge of the pavement. A man appeared without a sound in
the light of a street lamp, showing the coloured inverted triangle of his
bordered poncho, square on his shoulders, hanging to a point below his knees.
From the harbour end of the Calle a horseman walked his soft-stepping mount,
gleaming silver-grey abreast each lamp under the dark shape of the rider.
    »Behold the illustrious Capataz de Cargadores,« said Decoud, gently, »coming
in all his splendour after his work is done. The next great man of Sulaco after
Don Carlos Gould. But he is good-natured, and let me make friends with him.«
    »Ah, indeed!« said Antonia. »How did you make friends?«
    »A journalist ought to have his finger on the popular pulse, and this man is
one of the leaders of the populace. A journalist ought to know remarkable men -
and this man is remarkable in his way.«
    »Ah, yes!« said Antonia, thoughtfully. »It is known that this Italian has a
great influence.«
    The horseman had passed below them, with a gleam of dim light on the shining
broad quarters of the grey mare, on a bright heavy stirrup, on a long silver
spur; but the short flick of yellowish flame in the dusk was powerless against
the muffled-up mysteriousness of the dark figure with an invisible face
concealed by a great sombrero.
    Decoud