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"
Then
,
"
said
Mr.
Franzoni
,
in
warning
tone
,
"
we
will
change
it
.
"
The
offer
was
never
changed
.
Could
Mr.
Franzoni
have
meant
the
government
?
This
was
the
state
of
affairs
in
Anchuria
when
the
winter
season
opened
at
Coralio
at
the
end
of
the
second
year
of
Losada
's
administration
.
So
,
when
the
government
and
society
made
its
annual
exodus
to
the
seashore
it
was
evident
that
the
presidential
advent
would
not
be
celebrated
by
unlimited
rejoicing
.
The
tenth
of
November
was
the
day
set
for
the
entrance
into
Coralio
of
the
gay
company
from
the
capital
.
A
narrow-gauge
railroad
runs
twenty
miles
into
the
interior
from
Solitas
.
The
government
party
travels
by
carriage
from
San
Mateo
to
this
road
's
terminal
point
,
and
proceeds
by
train
to
Solitas
.
From
here
they
march
in
grand
procession
to
Coralio
where
,
on
the
day
of
their
coming
,
festivities
and
ceremonies
abound
.
But
this
season
saw
an
ominous
dawning
of
the
tenth
of
November
.
Although
the
rainy
season
was
over
,
the
day
seemed
to
hark
back
to
reeking
June
.
A
fine
drizzle
of
rain
fell
all
during
the
forenoon
.
The
procession
entered
Coralio
amid
a
strange
silence
.
President
Losada
was
an
elderly
man
,
grizzly
bearded
,
with
a
considerable
ratio
of
Indian
blood
revealed
in
his
cinnamon
complexion
.
His
carriage
headed
the
procession
,
surrounded
and
guarded
by
Captain
Cruz
and
his
famous
troop
of
one
hundred
light
horse
"
El
Ciento
Huilando
.
"
Colonel
Rocas
followed
,
with
a
regiment
of
the
regular
army
.
The
president
's
sharp
,
beady
eyes
glanced
about
him
for
the
expected
demonstration
of
welcome
;
but
he
faced
a
stolid
,
indifferent
array
of
citizens
.
Sight-seers
the
Anchurians
are
by
birth
and
habit
,
and
they
turned
out
to
their
last
able-bodied
unit
to
witness
the
scene
;
but
they
maintained
an
accusive
silence
.
They
crowded
the
streets
to
the
very
wheel
ruts
;
they
covered
the
red
tile
roofs
to
the
eaves
,
but
there
was
never
a
"
viva
"
from
them
.
No
wreaths
of
palm
and
lemon
branches
or
gorgeous
strings
of
paper
roses
hung
from
the
windows
and
balconies
as
was
the
custom
.
There
was
an
apathy
,
a
dull
,
dissenting
disapprobation
,
that
was
the
more
ominous
because
it
puzzled
.
No
one
feared
an
outburst
,
a
revolt
of
the
discontents
,
for
they
had
no
leader
.
The
president
and
those
loyal
to
him
had
never
even
heard
whispered
a
name
among
them
capable
of
crystallizing
the
dissatisfaction
into
opposition
.
No
,
there
could
be
no
danger
.
The
people
always
procured
a
new
idol
before
they
destroyed
an
old
one
.
At
length
,
after
a
prodigious
galloping
and
curvetting
of
red-sashed
majors
,
gold-laced
colonels
and
epauletted
generals
,
the
procession
formed
for
its
annual
progress
down
the
Calle
Grande
to
the
Casa
Morena
,
where
the
ceremony
of
welcome
to
the
visiting
president
always
took
place
.
The
Swiss
band
led
the
line
of
march
.
After
it
pranced
the
local
comandante
,
mounted
,
and
a
detachment
of
his
troops
.
Next
came
a
carriage
with
four
members
of
the
cabinet
,
conspicuous
among
them
the
Minister
of
War
,
old
General
Pilar
,
with
his
white
moustache
and
his
soldierly
bearing
.
Then
the
president
's
vehicle
,
containing
also
the
Ministers
of
Finance
and
State
;
and
surrounded
by
Captain
Cruz
's
light
horse
formed
in
a
close
double
file
of
fours
.
Following
them
,
the
rest
of
the
officials
of
state
,
the
judges
and
distinguished
military
and
social
ornaments
of
public
and
private
life
.
As
the
band
struck
up
,
and
the
movement
began
,
like
a
bird
of
ill-omen
the
Valhalla
,
the
swiftest
steamship
of
the
Vesuvius
line
,
glided
into
the
harbour
in
plain
view
of
the
president
and
his
train
.
Of
course
,
there
was
nothing
menacing
about
its
arrival
--
a
business
firm
does
not
go
to
war
with
a
nation
--
but
it
reminded
Señor
Espirition
and
others
in
those
carriages
that
the
Vesuvius
Fruit
Company
was
undoubtedly
carrying
something
up
its
sleeve
for
them
.
By
the
time
the
van
of
the
procession
had
reached
the
government
building
,
Captain
Cronin
,
of
the
Valhalla
,
and
Mr.
