“I hoped to have asked you some day to rejoin us here.  As matters stand, I am more likely to come and find you; for, when released, Christina and I are going to bend our steps to the States.  And we hope to come soon.  There’s a little difficulty outstanding about the terms on which the Golden House and my other property are to pass to the new Government; this I hope to compromise by abating half my claim in private, and giving it all up in public.  Also, I have had to bargain for the recognition of Johnny Carr’s rights to the colonel’s goods.  When all this is settled there will be nothing to keep me, and I shall leave here without much reluctance.  The first man I shall come and see is you, and we’ll have some frolics together, if my old carcass holds out.  But the truth is, my boy, I’m not the man I was.  I’ve put too much steam on all my life, and I must pull up now, or the boiler will burst.

“Christina sends her love.  She is as anxious to see you as I am.  But you must wait till I am dead to make love to her.  Ever your sincere friend,

  “MARCUS W. WHITTINGHAM.”

As I write, I hear that the arrangement is to be carried out.  So ends Aureataland’s brief history as a nation; so ends the story of her national debt, more happily than I ever thought it would.  I confess to a tender recollection of the sunny, cheerful, lazy, dishonest little place, where I spent four such eventful years.  Perhaps I love it because my romance was played there, as I should love any place where I had seen the signorina.  For I am not cured.  I don’t go about moaning—­I enjoy life.  But, in spite of my affection for the President, hardly a day passes that I don’t curse that accursed tree-root.

And she? what does she feel?

I don’t know.  I don’t think I ever did know.  But I have had a note from her, and this is what she says: 

“Fancy seeing old Jack again—­poor forsaken Jack!  Marcus is very kind (but very ill, poor fellow); but I shall like to see you, Jack.  Do you remember what I was like?  I’m still rather pretty.  This is in confidence, Jack.  Marcus thinks you’ll run away from us, now we are coming to ——­ town [that’s where I live].  But I don’t think you will.

“Please meet me at the depot, Jack, 12.15 train.  Marcus is coming by a later one, so I shall be desolate if you don’t come.  And bring that white rose with you.  Unless you produce it, I won’t speak to you.

  “CHRISTINA.”

Well, with another man’s wife, this is rather embarrassing.  But a business man can’t leave the place where his business is because a foolish girl insists on coming there.

And as I am here, I may as well be civil and go to meet her.  And, oh, well! as I happen to have the thing, I may as well take it with me.  It can’t do any harm.