On Foreign Service — Part 190

Zorilla made me get on my horse and we rode in among them.

Immediately they saw me they broke out into wild huzzahs, and a fierce roar of '_Don Geraldio! Don Geraldio! Viva Don Geraldio!_' simply filled the square. Zorilla, smiling grimly, rode away, evidently thinking that he was better out of it.

I knew what I was expected to do, the 'Gnome' was at my side looking anxiously at me, so I nodded to him, pointed across the square, and began forcing my way among them in the direction they ought to go. The 'Gnome' sang out half-a-dozen orders in a stentorian voice, and the whole, huge, half-terrified, half fierce-looking mob came along after us, as good as gold.

Well, that was simply another triumphal procession for Gerald; the little _machetos_ were all round me, they fought for the honour of leading my horse, and, thank goodness, I got them out of the square and the city without anything going wrong.

Old Zorilla had evidently gone ahead of me and hidden away all the regulars, for there wasn't one to be seen. We marched through absolutely deserted streets, and though the little brown men hesitated a moment, and began to look troubled and suspicious, when, at last, we came to the barracks, the smell of the food was so tempting that they poured in after me. It was a huge rambling barracks, with an enormous parade-ground, crowded with tables, and an army of timid-looking people was waiting to serve food. I stayed there half an hour till the little brown chaps had forgotten all their grievances and suspicions, and then I bolted back to the palace, where the official banquet was to be held, and got through that all right, being placed among the foreign Ministers, who, of course, knew whom I was, and had heard of Gerald having been shot.

Mr. Arnstein, in his gorgeous uniform, bent over to tell me that he'd heard that the operation was going on all right, so that I was quite happy.

Every one was awfully nice to me about Gerald, and about my having taken his place successfully, but after lunch I wanted to get away, though I could not do so, for some time, because of every one wanting to congratulate me. Captain Roger Hill actually came up, too, but I'd been Gerald all the morning, I still had his clothes on, and, somehow or other, I felt like him and was very 'stand off the grass' when he tried to patronise me.