A SKETCH IN THE TROPICS. 163 



and fashioned into a sort of doublet. Here was a 

 shako wanting a brim, in company with a gold-laced 

 velvet coat of the time of Philip V. ; there, a hussar 

 jacket and an old-fashioned cocked hat. The volun- 

 teers were the best clothed, also in great part from 

 the plunder of the battle of Ayacucho. Their uni- 

 forms were laden with gold and silver lace, and some 

 of the officers, not satisfied with two epaulettes, had 

 half-a-dozen hanging before and behind, as well as on 

 their shoulders. 



As we sat smoking, whittling, and quizzing the pa- 

 triots, a side-door of the coffee-house was suddenly 

 opened, and an officer came out whose appearance 

 was calculated to give us a far more favourable opin- 

 ion of South American militaires. He was a man 

 about thirty years of age, plainly but tastefully dressed, 

 and of that unassuming, engaging demeanour which 

 is so often found the companion of the greatest deci- 

 sion of character, and which contrasted with the mar- 

 tial deportment of a young man who followed him, 

 and who, although in much more showy uniform, 

 was evidently his inferior in rank. We bowed as he 

 passed before us, and he acknowledged the salutation 

 by raising his cocked hat slightly but courteously 

 from his head. He was passing on when his eyes 

 suddenly fell upon Captain Eeady, who was standing 

 a little on one side, notching away at his tenth or 

 twelfth stick, and at that moment happened to look 

 up. The officer started, gazed earnestly at Eeady for 



