The only feminine consciousness she retained was that she was more relieved at her deliverance from the wild cattle and unbroken horses of her progress than from the Indians and soldiers.

“I want to see Mrs. Markham, and to know by what authority she is arrested,” said Miss Keene boldly.

“The Senor Comandante can hold no conference with you until you disperse your party,” interpreted the secretary.

She was about to hurriedly reply that she knew nothing of the crowd that had accompanied her; but she was withheld by a newly-born instinct of tact.

“How do I know that I shall not be arrested, like my friend?” she said quickly.  “She is as innocent as myself.”

“The Comandante pledges himself, as a hidalgo, that you shall not be harmed.”

Her first impulse was to advance to the nearest intruders at the gate and say, “Do go away, please;” but she was doubtful of its efficiency, and was already too exalted by the situation to be satisfied with its prosaic weakness.  But her newly developed diplomacy again came to her aid.  “You may tell them so, if you choose, I cannot answer for them,” she said, with apparent dark significance.

The secretary advanced on the corridor and exchanged a few words with her more impulsive followers.  Miss Keene, goddess-like and beautiful, remained erect behind him, and sent them a dazzling smile and ravishing wave of her little hand.  The crowd roared with an effusive and bovine delight that half frightened her, and with a dozen “Viva la Reyna Americanas!” she was hurried by the Comandante into the guard-room.

“You ask to know of what the Senora Markham is accused,” said the Commander, more gently.  “She has received correspondence from the pirate—­Perkins!”

“The pirate—­Perkins?” said Miss Keene, with indignant incredulity.

“The buccaneer who wrote that letter.  Read it to her, Manuel.”

The secretary took his eyes from the young girl’s glowing face, coughed slightly, and then read as follows:—­

“On board the Excelsior, of the Quinquinambo Independent States Navy, August 8, 1854.

“To Captain Bunker.—­Sir,” . . .

“But this is not addressed to you!” interrupted Miss Keene indignantly.

“The Captain Bunker is a raving madman,” said the Commander gravely.  “Read on!”

The color gradually faded from the young girl’s cheek as the secretary continued, in a monotonous voice:—­

“I have the honor to inform you that the barque Excelsior was, on the 8th of July, 1854, and the first year of the Quinquinambo Independence, formally condemned by the Federal Council of Quinquinambo, for having aided and assisted the enemy with munitions of war and supplies, against the law of nations, and the tacit and implied good-will between the Republic of the United States and the struggling Confederacies of South America; and that, in pursuance thereof,