“What business, Donna Antonia?” I asked blandly.

She colored, recollecting, no doubt that the business was still a secret.

“Oh, well! you know they’re always busy at the Ministry of Finance at this time.  It’s the time they pay everybody, isn’t it?”

“It’s the time they ought to pay everybody,” I said.

“Well,” she went on, without noticing my correction, “at any rate, papa and the President are both very much vexed with him; so I offered to make my ride in his direction.”

“Where can he be?” I asked again.

“Well,” she replied, “I believe he’s at Colonel McGregor’s, and after lunch I shall go over there.  I know he dined there on Monday, and I dare say he stayed on.”

“No,” thought I, “you mustn’t do that, it might be inconvenient.”  So I said: 

“I know he’s not there; I heard from McGregor this morning, and he says Carr left him on Tuesday.  Why, how stupid I am!  The colonel says Carr told him he was going off for a couple of days’ sail in his yacht.  I expect he’s got contrary winds, and can’t get back again.”

“It’s very bad of him to go,” she said, “but no doubt that’s it.  Papa will be angry, but he’ll be glad to know no harm has come to him.”

“Happy to have relieved your mind,” said I, and bade her farewell, thanking my stars for a lucky inspiration, and wondering whether Don Antonio would find no harm had come to poor Johnny.  I had my doubts.  I regretted having to tell Donna Antonia what I did not believe to be true, but these things are incidental to revolutions—­a point of resemblance between them and commercial life.

When I arrived at the bank I dispatched brief answers to my budget of letters; each of the answers was to the same purport, namely, that I should be at the barracks at the appointed time.  I need not trouble the reader with the various wrappings in which this essential piece of intelligence was involved.  I then had a desperate encounter with Jones; business was slack, and Jones was fired with the unholy desire of seizing the opportunity thus offered to make an exhaustive inquiry into the state of our reserve.  He could not understand my sudden punctiliousness as to times and seasons, and I was afraid I should have to tell him plainly that only over my lifeless body should he succeed in investing the contents of the safe.  At last I effected a diversion by persuading him to give Mrs. Jones a jaunt into the country, and, thus left in peace, I spent my afternoon in making final preparations.  I burned many letters; I wrote a touching farewell to my father, in which, under the guise of offering forgiveness, I took occasion to point out to him how greatly his imprudent conduct had contributed to increase the difficulties of his dutiful son.  I was only restrained from making a will by the obvious imprudence of getting it witnessed.  I spent a feverish hour in firing imaginary shots from my revolver, to ascertain whether the instrument