It is a truism that in events of international importance the very names of the chief actors ofttimes go unrecorded.

Future generations will ask, perhaps:--Who blew up the _Maine_?
Who persuaded the Tsar to break his word anent Port Arthur?
Who told Paul Kruger that the Continent of Europe would support the Boers against Great Britain?
Such instances could be multiplied indefinitely, and the rule held good now in Brazil.
If any polite Pernambucano, Maceio-ite, or merchant of Bahia were informed that President De Sylva's raid was alone rendered possible by the help of a truculent British master-mariner and a dozen or so of his hard-bitten crew, he (the said Brasileiro) might be skeptical, or, at best, indifferent.

But let the name of some puppet politician hailing from Sao Paulo be mentioned, and his eyes would flash with angry recognition; yet the _Andromeda's_ small contingent achieved more than a whole army of conspirators.
The one incident, then, of a political nature, in which the victors of the tussle on Fernando Noronha were publicly concerned, was the outcome of a message cabled by Dom Corria while the smoke of Russo's cannon still clung about the quay.
It was written in German, addressed to a Hamburg shipping firm, and ran as follows: "Have sold _Unser Fritz_ to Senhor Pondillo of this port as from September 1st, for 175,000 marks.

If approved, cable confirmation, and draw on Paris branch Deutsche Bank at sight.

Franz Schmidt, care German Consul, Maceio." This harmless commercial item was read by many officials hostile to De Sylva, yet it evoked no comment.