to his caprices, wept. But Don Tadeo was not a man whom grief, however intense, could depress for a length of time. "Oh, all is not ended yet," he cried. "But courage! I have a people to save before I avenge my daughter." He clapped his hands, and Don Gregorio appeared. He saw at a glance the ravages which grief had made in the mind of his friend, but he saw that the King of Darkness had subdued the father. It was about seven o'clock in the morning. "What are your intentions with regard to General Bustamente?" Gregorio asked. Don Tadeo was calm, cold, and impassive; all traces of emotion had disappeared from his face, which had the whiteness and rigidity of marble. "My friend," he replied, "we yesterday saved the liberty of our country, which was on the verge of ruin; but if, thanks to you and to all the devoted patriots who fought on our side, I have for ever overthrown Don Bustamente, and annihilated his ambitious projects, I have not on that account taken his place." "But you are the only man—" "Do not say that," Don Tadeo interrupted, "I do not recognise in myself the right of imposing upon my fellow citizens ideas and views which may be very good, or which I believe to be so, but which, perhaps, are not theirs. The right of freely choosing the man who is henceforward to govern them." "And who tells you, my friend, that that man is not yourself?" "I do!" Don Tadeo observed in a firm voice. Don Gregorio gave a start of surprise. "That astonishes you, does it not, my friend? But what is to be said? So it is. I am only anxious to lay down power, which is a burden too heavy for my worn-out strength, and to return again to private life." "Oh! do not say that," Don Gregorio replied warmly; "the gratitude of the people is eternal." "All smoke, my friend," Don Tadeo observed, ironically. "Are you sure the people are pleased with what I have done? But let us end this; my resolution is taken, and nothing can change it." "But—" Don Gregorio wished to add. "One word more," said Don Tadeo. "To be a
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