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The
next
morning
a
strange
procession
filed
through
the
streets
to
the
collector
's
office
.
At
its
head
was
the
admiral
of
the
navy
.
Somewhere
Felipe
had
raked
together
a
pitiful
semblance
of
a
military
uniform
--
a
pair
of
red
trousers
,
a
dingy
blue
short
jacket
heavily
ornamented
with
gold
braid
,
and
an
old
fatigue
cap
that
must
have
been
cast
away
by
one
of
the
British
soldiers
in
Belize
and
brought
away
by
Felipe
on
one
of
his
coasting
voyages
.
Buckled
around
his
waist
was
an
ancient
ship
's
cutlass
contributed
to
his
equipment
by
Pedro
Lafitte
,
the
baker
,
who
proudly
asserted
its
inheritance
from
his
ancestor
,
the
illustrious
buccaneer
.
At
the
admiral
's
heels
tagged
his
newly-shipped
crew
--
three
grinning
,
glossy
,
black
Caribs
,
bare
to
the
waist
,
the
sand
spurting
in
showers
from
the
spring
of
their
naked
feet
.
Briefly
and
with
dignity
Felipe
demanded
his
vessel
of
the
collector
.
And
now
a
fresh
honour
awaited
him
.
The
collector
's
wife
,
who
played
the
guitar
and
read
novels
in
the
hammock
all
day
,
had
more
than
a
little
romance
in
her
placid
,
yellow
bosom
.
She
had
found
in
an
old
book
an
engraving
of
a
flag
that
purported
to
be
the
naval
flag
of
Anchuria
.
Perhaps
it
had
so
been
designed
by
the
founders
of
the
nation
;
but
,
as
no
navy
had
ever
been
established
,
oblivion
had
claimed
the
flag
.
Laboriously
with
her
own
hands
she
had
made
a
flag
after
the
pattern
--
a
red
cross
upon
a
blue-and-white
ground
.
She
presented
it
to
Felipe
with
these
words
:
"
Brave
sailor
,
this
flag
is
of
your
country
.
Be
true
,
and
defend
it
with
your
life
.
Go
you
with
God
.
"
For
the
first
time
since
his
appointment
the
admiral
showed
a
flicker
of
emotion
.
He
took
the
silken
emblem
,
and
passed
his
hand
reverently
over
its
surface
.
"
I
am
the
admiral
,
"
he
said
to
the
collector
's
lady
.
Being
on
land
he
could
bring
himself
to
no
more
exuberant
expression
of
sentiment
.
At
sea
with
the
flag
at
the
masthead
of
his
navy
,
some
more
eloquent
exposition
of
feelings
might
be
forthcoming
.
Abruptly
the
admiral
departed
with
his
crew
.
For
the
next
three
days
they
were
busy
giving
the
Estrella
del
Noche
a
new
coat
of
white
paint
trimmed
with
blue
.
And
then
Felipe
further
adorned
himself
by
fastening
a
handful
of
brilliant
parrot
's
plumes
in
his
cap
.
Again
he
tramped
with
his
faithful
crew
to
the
collector
's
office
and
formally
notified
him
that
the
sloop
's
name
had
been
changed
to
El
Nacional
.
During
the
next
few
months
the
navy
had
its
troubles
.
Even
an
admiral
is
perplexed
to
know
what
to
do
without
any
orders
.
But
none
came
.
Neither
did
any
salaries
.
El
Nacional
swung
idly
at
anchor
.
When
Felipe
's
little
store
of
money
was
exhausted
he
went
to
the
collector
and
raised
the
question
of
finances
.
"
Salaries
!
"
exclaimed
the
collector
,
with
hands
raised
;
"
Valgame
Dios
!
not
one
centavo
of
my
own
pay
have
I
received
for
the
last
seven
months
.
The
pay
of
an
admiral
,
do
you
ask
?
Quién
sabe
?
Should
it
be
less
than
three
thousand
pesos
?
Mira
!
you
will
see
a
revolution
in
this
country
very
soon
.
A
good
sign
of
it
is
when
the
government
calls
all
the
time
for
pesos
,
pesos
,
pesos
,
and
pays
none
out
.
"
Felipe
left
the
collector
's
office
with
a
look
almost
of
content
on
his
sombre
face
.
A
revolution
would
mean
fighting
,
and
then
the
government
would
need
his
services
.
It
was
rather
humiliating
to
be
an
admiral
without
anything
to
do
,
and
have
a
hungry
crew
at
your
heels
begging
for
reales
to
buy
plantains
and
tobacco
with
.
