The result was just what had been designed. Tourists and visiting
newspaper people spoke glowingly of the amity between the two
nations, and wondered at the absence of that Spanish prejudice of
which they had heard so much. Those who chanced to know the deeper
significance of it all, and were aware of the smouldering
resentment that lay in the Latin mind, commented admiringly upon
her work, and wondered what effect it would have upon the coming
election. Already this event had cast its shadow ahead, bringing
memories of the last election with its disturbances and ragged
uncertainty. That had been a pregnant epoch. Armed guards, hidden
behind American walls, had listened to the growing clamor and
prepared to fire. American marines had been held in readiness to
take such action as might have convulsed the other watchful World
Powers.
Since then the fuse had burned steadily, if slowly. As the time
drew near, there were those who openly predicted trouble. Others
scoffed at the idea, although they claimed that this would be the
last election ever held in Panama. But all united in declaring
that, whatever the work to which the Cortlandts had been assigned,
they were doing it well.
No one but the woman herself and her husband really understood the
tremendous difficulties of their task or the vital issues at
stake.
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