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THE MOUNTAIN OF FEARS

loved me as a brother. I suggested that we go aboard the Dutch ship and have an American cocktail. It was a little dangerous, but I wished to clinch his confidence in me. He readily agreed and we strolled across the square together. On the way we passed his command, which was what I wished. The men were still drinking, but the sergeant was out side the café and saluted as we passed.

"'A good fellow—he knows my errand,' observed the lieutenant, referring to the sergeant, and added that there was no hurry to cross to the fortress; it was a place stiflingly hot, and his men were in need of rest and a little refreshment.

" 'You are, of course, acquainted with the officers of the garrison?' said I.

" 'No; there is only the commandante, a rough old fellow'—he shrugged as if to signify that the man was scarcely of his own social caste. 'There were many promotions from the ranks after the revolution,' he added.

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