address to him; then a beautiful girl of eighteen years of age placed a laurel wreath of gold upon his head. San Martin, little accustomed to such theatrical ceremonies, flushed and took the crown from his head, but said that he would keep it for the sake of the patriotic sentiment that inspired the gift, and for the sake of those who bestowed it, in memory of these happy days.
The two representatives of the Revolution being left alone, walked up and down the salon together, but what they said to each other could not be heard by those in the ante-room. Bolívar appeared to be agitated, San Martin was calm and self-possessed. They shut the door and talked together for more than an hour and a half. Bolívar then retired, impenetrable, and grave as a sphinx. San Martin accompanied him to the foot of the staircase, and they took a friendly leave of each other. Later on the Protector paid a visit to the Liberator, one of mere ceremony, which lasted only half an hour.
The next day, the 27th, San Martin sent his baggage on board the schooner, saying that he should sail after attending the great ball given in his honour, and at one p.m. went again to call on the Liberator, remaining closeted with him for four hours.
At five p.m. they sat down together to a splendid banquet. When the time for toasts arrived, Bolívar stood up and proposed one:—
"To the two greatest men of South America—General San Martin and myself."
San Martin then proposed another:—
"To the speedy conclusion of the war; to the organization of the different Republics of the Continent; and to the health of the Liberator of Columbia;" words that indicated the thoughts which occupied his mind.
They then passed to the ball-room, where Bolívar gave himself up with juvenile ardour to the delights of the waltz, of which he was passionately fond. The rude behaviour of the Columbian officers, who were roughly reproved by Bolívar, gave a grotesque aspect to the scene.
