“I opened my eyes.  The hills were still there, dark and solid.  It had not been, then, a volcano or an earthquake.  I looked up at the sky and saw a comet-like trail crossing the zenith and extending westward—­a fiery trail waning fainter and narrower each moment.

“‘A meteor!’ I called aloud.  ’A meteor has fallen.  There is no danger.’

“And then all other sounds were drowned by a great shout from Kearny’s throat.  He had raised both hands above his head and was standing tiptoe.

“‘PHOEBE’S GONE!’ he cried, with all his lungs.  ’She’s busted and gone to hell.  Look, Captain, the little red-headed hoodoo has blown herself to smithereens.  She found Kearny too tough to handle, and she puffed up with spite and meanness till her boiler blew up.  It’s be Bad-Luck Kearny no more.  Oh, let us be joyful!

   “’Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;
     Humpty busted, and that’ll be all!’

“I looked up, wondering, and picked out Saturn in his place.  But the small red twinkling luminary in his vicinity, which Kearny had pointed out to me as his evil star, had vanished.  I had seen it there but half an hour before; there was no doubt that one of those awful and mysterious spasms of nature had hurled it from the heavens.

“I clapped Kearny on the shoulder.

“‘Little man,’ said I, ’let this clear the way for you.  It appears that astrology has failed to subdue you.  Your horoscope must be cast anew with pluck and loyalty for controlling stars.  I play you to win.  Now, get to your tent, and sleep.  Daybreak is the word.’

“At nine o’clock on the morning of the eighteenth of July I rode into Aguas Frias with Kearny at my side.  In his clean linen suit and with his military poise and keen eye he was a model of a fighting adventurer.  I had visions of him riding as commander of President Valdevia’s body-guard when the plums of the new republic should begin to fall.

“Carlos followed with the troops and supplies.  He was to halt in a wood outside the town and remain concealed there until he received the word to advance.

“Kearny and I rode down the Calle Ancha toward the residencia of Don Rafael at the other side of the town.  As we passed the superb white buildings of the University of Esperando, I saw at an open window the gleaming spectacles and bald head of Herr Bergowitz, professor of the natural sciences and friend of Don Rafael and of me and of the cause.  He waved his hand to me, with his broad, bland smile.

“There was no excitement apparent in Aguas Frias.  The people went about leisurely as at all times; the market was thronged with bare-headed women buying fruit and carne; we heard the twang and tinkle of string bands in the patios of the cantinas.  We could see that it was a waiting game that Don Rafael was playing.

“His residencia was a large but low building around a great courtyard in grounds crowed with ornamental trees and tropic shrubs.  At his door an old woman who came informed us that Don Rafael had not yet arisen.