as the much-sought pirate and smuggler, Marti.  Tacon was somewhat astounded, but he kept his word.  Marti was held overnight, but “on the following day,” the Ballou account proceeds, “one of the men-of-war that lay idly beneath the guns of Morro Castle suddenly became the scene of the utmost activity, and, before noon, had weighed her anchor, and was standing out into the gulf stream.  Marti the smuggler was on board as her pilot; and faithfully did he guide the ship on the discharge of his treacherous business, revealing every haunt of the rovers, exposing their most valuable depots; and many a smuggling craft was taken and destroyed.  The amount of money and property thus secured was very great.”  The contemptible job of betraying his former companions and followers being successfully accomplished, Marti returned with the ships, and claimed his reward from Tacon.  The General, according to his word of honor, gave Marti a full and unconditional pardon for all his past offences, and an order on the treasury for the amount of the reward offered.  The latter was declined but, in lieu of the sum, Marti asked for and obtained a monopoly of the right to sell fish in Havana.  He offered to build, at his own expense, a public market of stone, that should, after a specified term of years, revert to the government, “with all right and the title to the fishery.”  This struck Tacon as a good business proposition; he saved to his treasury the important sum of the reward and, after a time, the city would own a valuable fish-market.  He agreed to the plan.  Marti thereupon went into the fish business, made huge profits, and became, so the story goes, the richest man in the island.  After a time, being burdened with wealth, he looked about for means of increasing his income.  So he asked for and obtained a monopoly of the theatre business in Havana, promising to build one of the largest and finest theatres in the world.  The result of the enterprise was the present Nacional theatre, for many years regarded as second only to the Grand theatre in Milan.  But it was named the Tacon.  Its special attraction was internal; its exterior was far from imposing.  It has recently been considerably glorified.  Having thus halted for the story of the theatre, we may return to the Prado on which it fronts.  Here, Havana society used to gather every afternoon to drive, walk, and talk.  The afternoon paseo was and still is the great event of the day, the great social function of the city.  At the time of my first visit, in 1899, there was no Malecon drive along the shore to the westward.  That enterprise was begun during the First Intervention, and continued by succeeding administrations.  In the earlier days, the route for driving was down the east side of the Prado, between the Parque Central and the Carcel, and up the west side, around and around, up and down, with bows and smiles to acquaintances met or passed, and, probably, gossip about the strangers.  Many horsemen appeared