And, as it looked now, those strong arms had been folded, not only round his own wife's tender form, but, also, about, at least, one other woman's, too. Good Father Felix reflected on the fraility of man and pondered deeply on the tenderness of women, but he did not, even then, reach the very root of the whole matter, for he, being what he was, would not be very likely ever to know the heights and depths, as well, of human love, for he had always been a religious devotee in spite of his great strength of limb ... he'd only used his bodily powers to forward the work to which his whole life was devoted utterly, and, so, good Father Felix could not fully understand a man such as Victorio Colenzo must have been to leave the record that he'd left behind him when he died, there, in the entrance to that dark and gloomy prison, just as he had been about to come again, a free man, into the glorious light of day.
Father Felix had prepared the widow of Victorio Colenzo for the sight she would behold when she went to the rude dwelling where they had laid the form of the prisoner whose dead body had been found lying in the entrance to the prison on the day the people battered down the doors and set at liberty several political prisoners confined therein, but no one could, really, prepare a woman for the vision presented to her eyes when she entered the cottage that had been turned into a temporary morgue, for more than one of those engaged in the deadly strife with the soldiery in the prado after the deliverance of the prisoners had given up his earthly life, either at the time of the attack or afterwards from wounds inflicted either intentionally or inadvertently by those who had been sent to the prado to quell an uprising of the Cuban populace.
As the woman we have before described entered the rude shelter where the dead bodies of several of the residents of the little village lay, she was surprised and grieved by the number of the dead and, also, by the many mourners who crowded among the slabs on which the bodies lay, for there was little of orderly array there, everything being of the rudest and most primitive pattern as the reigning government did not wish to dignify those who had opposed it even after death had taken from their limbs the power to oppose anything in the world of men and women.
The woman, who was of a higher class than most of those assembled there, was treated with marked deference as became her superior position both as to wealth and education, for the widow of Victorio Colenzo occupied a proud place in her own right, having been, for a long time, the occupant of a large and beautiful residence that commanded a wide view of the harbor of Havana and was situated on an elevation above the little village of San Domingo; this home had been hers long before she had ever met the handsome peon whom she had acknowledged as her husband to Father Felix after having learned of his death.
It was through her own instigation that the man had taken the position which had, subsequently, placed him among the prisoners for offenses against the reigning government who had been liberated under her direct orders and with her pronounced sanction, although she had not actually taken part in the work which she had directed.
This woman was of another type entirely as compared with the others in that small dwelling and walked among them almost haughtily in spite of her eagerness in the search after evidence that would convince her that she had not been utterly mistaken in the man she had secretly married, believing him to represent the finest and highest example of patriotic courage and devotion that she had met during the whole of her long residence in the Island of Cuba.
She had come to the Island, in her first youth, as the daughter of the American Consul who represented the United States in the council chambers where were gathered those who discussed affairs of state with the ruling Spanish powers; her father had purchased the beautiful site on which he had built the home that was still hers, although both of her parents had died, there in Cuba, within the past few years; the girl had been left practically without living relatives, and, so, loving her Island home, she had remained there in spite of the solicitations of many American friends who had visited her in Cuba and urged her to return to the United States with them; she was of a reticent and retiring disposition, loving a good book more than almost anything else in the world, and being surrounded by a splendid library, her time was fully and pleasantly occupied, as she had trustworthy retainers who followed her mandates because they loved to fulfill them and pitied her loneliness while they almost worshiped her superior manners and style of speech as well as of living; Father Felix, alone, understood her mental attainments and was greatly bewildered when she told him that she had married Victorio Colenzo as he considered her far removed from the peons who were the regular inhabitants of the Island and among whom he labored as a missionary rather than as an equal, although his deep humility of manner always led them to believe that he was on their own level of intelligence, while the aloofness of this one woman set her apart from all of her neighbors and made her seem to them like a being from another and a higher world.
As she walked among the slabs on which the dead bodies had been laid, that morning, for she had come down from her home early, having slept, during the past night, only the few hours preceding her meeting with Father Felix, as she hoped to have her doubts set at rest and to be assured that the man she had secretly united to herself by marriage was still worthy of her respect and love which she had given to him without further knowledge of his character than what he chose to exhibit to her in their infrequent meetings prior to his declaration of undying worship and deep and overpowering love for herself as well as of patriotic zeal which latter emotion she fully sympathized with, as she regarded it as similar in many ways to her own feeling for her much-beloved land which was all the more powerful because of her isolation from others of her own nation, she representing, to herself at least, the whole of the entire broad expanse of the United States; it was this sympathy with the ardent patriotism of Victorio Colenzo that had led to her present plight for, believing him to possess the strong feelings for his native land which he had professed to her to have, she had urged his participation in the plot which, on its discovery by the Spanish authorities, had plunged him, with others, into the prison from which, through her own earnest efforts, they had just been liberated, or, at least, a part of them.
Now, she reached the side of the farthest slab in that small room, and noticed, at once, crouching down beside it, a fair-haired girl who seemed, beyond all doubt, the one bereft by the condition of the body lying there, so straight and still, beneath the rude pall that had been thrown over it so that even its face was hidden from sight. She softly touched the mourner on the shoulder nearest to her and whispered:
"My poor Girl, for whom do you mourn? Is it the body of your brother lying here, or, yet," she went on, hesitatingly, for a horrible suspicion began to thrust its ugly head before her vision, "can he who lies here so quietly have been, maybe, your husband? You are young but I know well that the girls, here, marry very young...."
She ended haltingly, for the girl had raised her lovely face, tear-stained and drawn by sorrow, and looked up into the face that bent so near to her own:
"He was my plighted husband, Lady; hewouldhave been my husband had death not intervened to take him from me! Ilovehim so ..." she suddenly screamed in agony, "Ilovehim so ... Victorio! Why have you left me all alone in a cruel world to be a widow before I was a wife? Victorio...."
And, then, she rose, as one who had that right, and turned the pall back from the countenance of him who lay there on that senseless slab.
The other woman did not scream, as poor Estrella had ... she did not even move, indeed, but stood as if she had been carved from marble, for her face was almost just as pale as death itself ... the pulsing blood receded from her cheeks and from her trembling lips ... she stood so tall and still that the poor girl became conscious of her in spite of her own grief and wondered if she, also, sought to find some one she loved among the dead; with that thought in her mind, she stepped back from the corpse she had been leaning over, and said to her who stood there silently as if her interest in the affairs of life had, suddenly, ceased:
"I beg your pardon for my selfishness. Are you, too, one of those who lost some loved one yesterday? Do you seek, here, in this sad place, the body of one whom you've loved as I have loved the man who lies here ... dead ... before me?"
The older girl was silent, for she could not talk to poor Estrella as she wished to do ... as she had meant to do in case her worst fears had to be realized; she did not wish to add a single hair's weight to the sorrow that the poor girl felt for him who had been false to both of those trusting women who stood there beside his corpse; she did not wish to harm the innocent girl, for she could see how true and loving she had been by gazing, only for a moment, in her wide, blue eyes, and, yet, it was her right and, perhaps, it was also her duty, to the man who had been her earthly husband, to claim his body and to bury it as would become the husband of a woman such as she had, always, been; but, as he'd always begged her to keep secret their marriage which had taken place in Havana instead of having Father Felix marry them at his request, for political reasons, he had told her, with the thought that she, being an American, might complicate his position with the Spanish government, as he had occupied a place of trust under the Governor, until the proper time would come to expose his actual feelings for his native land.
And, so, she had to think of this side of the complicated problem presented to her by her strange position while she stood there with that weeping, loving, sympathetic, untaught girl clinging to her hand and questioning her. At length, having collected a little of her usual unselfish consideration for the people living on the Island, she turned to poor Estrella and said to her, softly, and, yet, without condescension in her manner:
"Yes, my poor Girl, I, also, seek someone I love among the newly dead.... I, also, wish to find the man I loved as you have loved the man who lies here on this slab.... I, also...."
Then, her courage failed her utterly and she fainted dead away, even as poor Estrella, herself, had, when she had first beheld the body of the man who had made love to both of them.
The fair-haired girl bent over the older woman and lifted her in her strong arms and carried her into the outer air and found the carriage where it waited for its mistress and placed her in the care of those who served her; then, for the first time, she realized who the lady was who'd found her there beside her dead, as she supposed, for Victorio had no family in San Domingo, having only come there recently, and having held himself as somewhat superior to the most of his own countrymen whom he met, so poor Estrella claimed his body as having been his sweetheart, since he had, as she believed, no wife in all the world, for he had often told her he had never found a woman he could love before he met her.
Now, she helped to chafe the hands of her who lay there in that costly carriage with her brown hair making a soft frame for her pale face which lay upon the lap of one who loved her with the kind of love an ignorant, older woman gives to one she much admires and who is far superior to her in every possible way; this woman smoothed the fluffy hair back from the high white brow, now, and spoke to her as if she were her baby instead of one whom she looked up to and respected:
"There ... there! My Pretty! Open your sweet eyes and look at your own loving Mage!" she said, as the long, brown lashes that fringed the delicate white lids still brushed the rounded cheeks that were almost as white as the smooth brow. "Look up at me and let me see your shining eyes, again!"
"Her heart is beating, now, more regularly," said Estrella, for her hand had sought the other's bosom to see if she still lived at all. "She breathes more easily, too. I think she will recover very soon ... poor Lady! She sympathized with me in my great sorrow so deeply that she fainted. How sweet and dear she is!" she added, softly, as a shudder shook the form before her. "How very sweet and dear she is. Youmustlove her very much indeed.... I never happened to see her before today, but I know who she is, now, and how very kind she has been to so many of our people."
"I wish the color would creep back into her cheeks ..." moaned Mage. "Her cheeks are almost always rosy as the dawn ... it seems so strange to see them white ... she don't look natural to me this way ... you should see her when she thinks her husband's coming to the house ...thenher cheeks are like a flame of light ... her eyes are just as bright as stars at midnight ... there! They've opening, now ... my Pretty ... my own pretty Dear ... Mage is here ... I'm right here by you Dearie ... there! I'm afraid she's fainted away, again. She seemed to look at you, Estrella, stand farther back so, when she opens her eyes next time, she'll see just me ... she knows old Mage loves her always ... she knows her own old Mage would take good care of her no matter what would come.... Dearie ... I am right here ... old Mage is close beside you...."
At that, the woman lying there within her faithful arms, stirred softly, and, once again, her glorious gray eyes opened, and she looked at poor old Mage whose face was all distraught with many wrinkles and with deep anxiety for her. Then she raised herself to a sitting posture and put her hands before her eyes as if to hide some horrible spectre from her sight, and, then, she looked at poor Estrella standing there not knowing what to do, for Mage would not allow her, even now, to come a single step nearer to her mistress, and then she spoke:
"My poor Girl," she said, "My poor Girl, I too, sought to find the man I loved, but his body is not here. I pity you with all my heart and wish that I could help you bear your sorrow. Come to me and I will try to help you ... come this evening, just at sunset, to my house. I think you know which one it is.... Mage, you tell her where to come."
For she had reached the limit of her endurance, for the moment, and old Mage, seeing her evident distress, hurriedly told Estrella where to come to find her mistress, and gave the orders to the coachman to drive home at once.
And, then, Estrella went again into the habitation of the dead and the other woman, with her heart like lead within her breast, went back to her own place and left the body of the man she'd called her husband for a few short months lying there upon that senseless slab with the weeping girl beside it.
When the evening shadows were falling over the almost palatial home of Ruth Wakefield, the young girl whom she had begged to come to her climbed the rugged height upon which the former United States Consul had erected his residence hoping to occupy it long after his term of office should expire as he had found the climate very beneficial to the health of his entire family, as it seemed, and desired to have a fitting place of abode during the childhood of his only and much-loved child, who, now, a sorrowing widow and a humiliated wife, was sitting idly waiting to receive poor Estrella, not knowing, certainly, just what she would do or say when she had to really face the situation into which she had been forced by untoward circumstances.
As Estrella reached the rear door, to which she had gone by an almost unerring instinct, feeling strange and unnatural among the rich surroundings, old Mage appeared to welcome her, as she had been directed by her mistress to do; the old woman was greatly in doubt as to the condition of affairs in the home she loved to be a part of and had longed to get hold of the peon girl alone.
There was something about Ruth Wakefield that commanded the respect of even the lowest among those who knew her ... her natural refinement had been accentuated by her seclusion from the outer world and by her almost constant thought of higher and better matters than the gross and humdrum affairs of the daily life by which she was surrounded. Yet, she always entered into practical affairs with vigor and entire understanding, so that, while she was counted as a dreamer of dreams beyond the earth, yet she was acknowledged to be eminently practical and able to attend to her own business affairs with no danger of being over-reached by those with whom she dealt as to monetary matters, as her natural acumen in such matters had been sharpened by various experiences of a more or less unpleasant character, such as the loss of certain sums of money through trusting to the honor of some of those with whom she had had sympathy in their need, for she had discovered that, when it comes to money, people are very apt to forget their obligations entirely, only attending to that part of life when in need themselves and not considering the fact that, unless one gets what is one's due, at least to some extent, one cannot, on the other hand, meet one's own obligations, so that the lonely girl had learned some hard lessons by practical knowledge of human nature gained in the only school where such knowledge can be gained ... experience.
But old Mage was of a far different type of womankind ... true as steel to her beloved young lady as she always called her in her thoughts, although she often found verbal fault with her to her fair and tender face ... fond of gossip and garrulous to an almost alarming extent yet she could keep a secret as inviolate as even Ruth Wakefield herself.
At this moment, her great desire was to worm out of poor Estrella whatever it was that had made her own young lady faint that morning ... she was not worried about the poor girl's loss of him she had called her lover except in so far as it affected her own people as she was fond of distinguishing them, for old Mage, although uneducated and almost unaware of her own nationality as her mother had died at her birth and her father had immediately deserted her, yet prided herself on being far superior to the natives among whom she dwelt, for she had come to Cuba with the Wakefield family, having been employed by them as nurse for the small Ruth and having stuck tightly to her charge from that time on.
So that, when she faced the poor, ignorant, as she secretly considered Estrella, girl, it was with an air of superiority as belonging to a higher race than she, for it is a fact that uneducated persons feel any elevation above their fellows much more strongly than those who have had more insight into the humble attainments of even the wisest of human beings, for those who have been permitted to climb the heights of thought have had a glimpse of the vastness and unattainable grandeur of which even the highest human intellect must only be a spectator ... an humble and admiring witness of the matchless beauty and majestic splendor that dwell beyond and yet beyond the vision of the keenest human imagination.
But old Mage seldom allowed herself even to wonder about what she could not understand, being content with the plane of existence upon which she found herself and finding amusement and profit as well in attending to the various small duties of her daily life as she performed those duties through love and pride. Having seated the girl who was almost overpowered, already, by the unknown glamour of wealthy surroundings, she proceeded to follow out her own ideas and to attempt to satisfy her own curiosity before apprising Ruth of the arrival of her invited guest.
She began by commiserating the girl upon her recent loss, little dreaming that, in this way, she would find out far more than had been her own desire, for old Mage, while she had never liked the young man who, for the past few months, had been an almost daily visitor at the home she dearly loved, yet had tried to think that her young lady had chosen wisely, even if unconventionally, when she had married him, as it was very hard for her ever to really question any object upon which Ruth had set her heart, it having been one of the criticisms of the parents of the little girl that old Mage had always indulged her slightest whim and always satisfied at least her own conscience by finding some good reason for the indulgence; in the present instance, she had often said to herself:
"My poor child is alone so much with her own thoughts and what she gets out of all those big books," for what anyone could find in the way of company in a book which required so much labor, in her own case, to decipher at all was a mystery to her, "and she needs company ... a woman needs a man around to make love to her and this fellow is good at that what with his guitar and his mandolin and his fine voice, not to speak of his wonderful dark eyes and his curly black hair and his strong, powerful figure ... it is too bad that he is only a native Cuban instead of an American ... that is too bad ... but..." she would end, brightly, "he can be naturalized if we ever go back to the States."
So, now, when she turned to Estrella with the conventional question as to the identity of her lover on her ready tongue, she little dreamed of the consequences:
"My poor girl," she began, "you were to have been married, they tell me, to the man who was found dead at the entrance to the prison, last night.... I wonder if I happened to know him ... what was his name?"
She had asked the question idly, wishing only to engage the girl in conversation to find out whatever she could.
"My lover was a wonderful man ..." declared Estrella; "he was not a common man at all ... he was superior to all the men I know or ever have known ... he was the handsomest as well as the most intelligent man among the whole people of this Island, I think.... I know I never saw anyone either so handsome or so smart as was my dear Victorio.... I don't suppose you would ever have met him for he was not a servant and yet he was a Cuban ... he was a wonderful man and I was to have been his wife and he was most foully murdered there in that hateful prison."
And the poor bereft creature began to moan and sob and wring her hands in agony of spirit.
This was not at all what Mage desired to do ... to get the girl all wrought up before her young lady even saw her, so she tried to comfort and calm her by speaking rather sharply to her as she knew hysteria can only be overcome by the application of fierce remedies, or, at least, that is what she had been taught, so, in order to cauterize the wound her words seemed to have made, she said:
"You say your lover was a superior man ... was he, then, a leader among the political prisoners who were liberated?"
"Indeed he was ..." proudly answered the bereaved girl. "Victorio Colenzo was a leader where-ever he went ... why ..."
But even her pride in her dead lover did not hide from her the effect his name had had on poor old Mage for she had crumpled down in her chair as if she had received a stroke of some kind and seemed as if paralyzed, for her poor old mouth fell open, revealing its entire innocence of teeth; she gasped for breath for a moment and then demanded:
"Say that name again! What kind of looking man was he?"
Hastening to comply with the demand made on her, the girl proceeded, proudly:
"His name was Victorio Colenzo and he was the handsomest man in the whole of Cuba, I believe ... his eyes were very dark and expressive and his hair was the very most beautiful curly hair that ever grew on any human head ... he was tall and strong and handsome in every way and, yet," she ended dreamily, "and, yet, he never loved a woman in his life before he found me."
Old Mage had other words upon her lips than those which she said after having hauled herself up sharply, remembering how unprotected her dear young lady was and wishing, above all else, even her own almost insatiable curiosity, to shield her from any harm:
"It must be a great comfort to you to know that, now that he is dead and gone," she said to the girl, though what she added in her own mind may as well not be recorded here, for, with all the fierceness of the far-famed tiger with her young, old Mage, in her own primitive mind, was wishing several distinct kinds of punishment would fall, in its immediate future, upon the soul of the man who had brought sorrow to her dear, innocent lamb. As far as the girl was concerned she felt that she had had more than her just deserts already and wished to relieve her young lady of any further torture regarding the mixed matter, for old Mage, though an ignorant woman in many ways, had lived a great many observant years among human men and women, and, now, that her experience might serve to protect Ruth in this hard crisis of her young womanhood, she threw herself and all her previous knowledge of the world right into the breach. She reflected only for a few moments after having made the diplomatic speech referred to above, before she decided on a course of immediate action.
To begin with, she decided to clear the decks, as it were, of the obstruction of the girl's presence in the home of the wronged wife; she went about this with precision and dispatch, for, once she had settled on any certain course, old Mage was like a mild whirlwind, scattering everything before her:
"Well," she began, eyeing the girl suspiciously, wondering whether she had any inkling of the exact situation, "I suppose you have folks to live with and are not in need of anything much?"
"I am alone in this wide world," declared Estrella, "for I am but a foster child among the people who have brought me up ... my parents I know nothing of but believe that I am not of Cuban blood.... I think ..." she hesitated, "I think ... I am ... an American, the same as the sweet young lady who lives here with you."
The last few words almost undid old Mage's stern resolve, but she kept her one idea of saving her young lady from further annoyance in view and answered this appeal:
"It don't make much difference in this worldwhoyou are but it does matterwhatyou are ... now, I take it, you are a good girl and will marry some good man when you have recovered from this loss ... you are too young to feel this as deeply as you might ... I hope so, anyway ..." she temporized, seeing the look of despair that settled on Estrella's really beautiful and innocent features, "and my young lady wanted me to help you if you needed any help for she feels so sorry that your lover happened to be killed just as he was about to get free ... she wanted me to tell you ..." but at that point in her benevolent intention she was interrupted by the appearance of the mistress of the place, and ended, rather lamely, "she wanted me to tell you to come to her as soon as you got here."
"Why, Mage," said Ruth in her usual sweet, low voice, "you had not told me that Estrella had come ... have you been waiting for me very long?" she kindly asked the girl.
"No, Madam," said Estrella feeling the immense difference in their positions in spite of the evident indisposition and tender youth of the other woman, "I have only rested for a few moments after my climb to the top of the hill. It was very kind," she added, "of you to ask me to come and the cool air of the evening has refreshed my head for it has been aching terribly, all day."
"Can't you find some sort of refreshments for her, Mage?" asked Ruth, feeling sorry for the other's plight. "Maybe a good cup of tea would give you added strength to bear your great sorrow ... we women," she said while her sweet, low voice trembled, "we women are but weak and yet often the very heaviest of sorrows is laid upon us.... I do not know the reason for this ... I do not understand ... but I believe that we are all but a part of a very great plan which is beyond our comprehension while we are here in this finite world, and I hope ..." she had the look of one of God's good angels on her face as she said it, "and I hope to know more about this great plan when I have passed beyond this world and all its many disappointments. You have had a terrific blow, my poor Girl," she went on, kindly. "You alone must bear this grief but God has sent other human beings into this human life so that we may help each other, if only by our mutual sympathy, when we must meet what it seems almost impossible for us to bear alone ... so," she ended, "so, maybe I have been sent to try to give you courage to go on in life when your future must look dreadfully black to you."
"It surely does look black ..." moaned poor Estrella, "Victorio was all I had to lean upon in this wide world for I don't belong to the people where I live and Manuello persists in making love to me and I can't bear to have him touch me after having known the love of a man who never even looked at any other woman but me, and who was," her pride in her dead lover again taking the ascendency in her emotions, "the handsomest and smartest man who ever came to Cuba."
"The low-lived pup!" said old Mage, who had just come in with the tea-tray in her hands and heard the last few words, but she made this remark to herself alone and would have ground her teeth in making it had it not happened that she had mislaid those triumphs of the dentist's art, for old Mage was the proud possessor of two entire sets of teeth, although she seldom could lay her hands on them as she invariably removed them from her mouth each time she wished to eat anything, having grown so accustomed to gumming her food that the teeth were dreadfully in her way.
She set the tea-tray with its array of cups and saucers down and added several little concoctions of her own making to the little feast before she began, thinking to change the subject:
"Dear Miss Ruth, I wish you could have seen little Tid-i-wats a few minutes ago; she was out in the big yard and I wanted her to come back in her own place so as to be safe and so instead of going to pick her up as you know very well she won't allow anyone to do except yourself, I just got one of her saucers and a silver spoon and pounded on the edge of the saucer with the spoon, and here she came fairly bounding along the driveway; she galloped, Miss Ruth, just like a little colt out in one of our own big pastures, back home."
"The dear little Dadditts!" exclaimed her young lady, using a pet name of her own making. "How cute she must have looked ... she is so little," she explained to Estrella, "she is so very small and so very cute ... I have had her with me, now, for ... how long is it, Mage?" for she knew the old woman enjoyed being asked for information, "since we came from America the last time?"
"Let me see ..." answered Mage, deliberating, "it must be anyway twelve years and Tid-i-wats was not a young cat, even then, for she had raised one family of kittens at least ... she must be thirteen or more years old, my Dear," she said to the young girl, hoping to attract her attention to herself and so leave Ruth free from her immediate scrutiny, "just think of that! You must come with me, when you have had your tea, and see the cute little yard we have for her and then you must look over the grounds with me. Miss Ruth is not feeling very well, today, although she has such a healthy-looking, rosy face, and, so, I'll entertain you while you're here; Miss Ruth is a great reader and her eyes are not very strong ... sometimes the sun hurts them awfully."
And Ruth let here have her way, that time, as she found that she could scarcely endure the calm, blue, staring eyes of the girl and listen to her innocent gabble concerning her own husband; so she called old Mage into another room and cautioned her to be very kind to poor Estrella and gave her quite a sum of money to hand to her, thinking, in this manner to defray the funeral expenses of the man whom she had believed to be the very soul of honor fired with an almost holy patriotism.
Old Mage received her directions quietly enough and used her own good judgment as to carrying them all out; her main idea was to relieve her mistress and this she did by assuring her that she would look after the girl and would ask her to come to see them again when she had in some measure recovered from her sorrow.
What she was saying to her own self we will not record but she relieved her own feelings, while attempting to help Estrella who was as innocent as her own young lady was, as she could see, for old Mage was seldom mistaken in her estimate of women, although men, as she expressed it, quite often "pulled the wool over her eyes."
As the young girl descended the hill to the little village she reflected upon the splendor of the home she had just quitted and wondered if such wealth as was displayed there could take the place of the companionship of a loved and loving human being; she remembered the very sad expression of the great gray eyes into which she had peered for a few fleeting moments and she marveled at the memory, for, as it seemed to the inexperience of Estrella, Ruth Wakefield should have been as happy as a queen indeed for she had the proud position, almost, of Royalty among the peons to whose constant society she, herself, had had to be accustomed from her earliest recollection of society at all.
In spite of her own great sorrow on account of the sudden death of Victorio Colenzo she felt comforted, somehow, by the memory of the vital nearness of the woman who was so much her superior, as it seemed to her, in every possible way; she could not know that in Ruth Wakefield's gentle bosom there throbbed a deeper and more lasting agony than any that she, herself, had ever experienced ... she only saw her own position among those who had little sympathy for her, as all the girls she knew well, except little Tessa, envied her as having been the sweetheart of a man they all admired, and the young men, feeling that she was superior, in many ways, to the girls of their own type, were jealous of the handsome Colenzo who had won so easily what they had failed to even attract.
Chief among these latter was Manuello who called himself her half-brother, half in derision and half in rough sport, for well he knew that no similar blood flowed through their veins as Estrella had been taken care of by his own mother simply from motives of pity for a deserted and helpless orphan; this loving and unselfish mother had passed away some time before the opening of this tale and Estrella had taken full charge of the household affairs of the family among whom she had grown up, as being the eldest of the girls, having always been of a domestic turn of mind and wishing to repay the kindness of those who had cared for her when she was unable to do so.
As she walked along she remembered several little duties for her to perform yet that night, although she felt that she wished to devote her entire attention to the funeral arrangements that she had made for poor Victorio whose mangled remains still lay at the improvised morgue in the village.
Reflecting on these arrangements, she remembered the money that old Mage had given to her which was yet clutched in the hand that had received it; hearing a slight noise in the path ahead of her, she hastily thrust the money into the bosom of her gown and advanced, cautiously, for there was much unrest all over the Island of Cuba at this time and no one was really safe, either at home or abroad, as the Governor-General had issued positive orders to arrest without question all those who were, in any manner, detrimental to the ruling powers.
Estrella was aware, in a dim and uncertain way, of existing conditions, and, having been a participant in the recent uprising, she was afraid that she might be detained by the government, in which case, how she could attend to the sorrowful duty of the morrow was a problem too big for her to solve on the spur of the moment; with the thought of this danger in her mind, she stepped carefully to one side of the narrow path, hoping that whoever or whatever had made the noise she had heard would pass on up the hill without observing her; she was standing as still as possible, fairly holding her breath and involuntarily clutching at the bundle of money in her dress, when she became conscious of the approach of someone or something from behind her and jumped, like a startled fawn, back into the path and down the hill at top speed; she knew that she was followed but did not stop until she had reached the door of the little cottage where she made her home; as she pushed madly at the door it yielded to her touch too quickly to have been moved by herself alone, and, hurridly entering, she found herself face to face with Manuello who pulled her hastily inside and barred the simple door, saying testily:
"Why did you startle me so? Had I not known your step, I would have kept you out until you had told me who you were ... don't you know that we, who have made ourselves conspicuous in the recent uprising, are being closely watched by the authorities and are liable to arrest at any moment? Why do you expose us in this manner by staying out after nightfall and perhaps bringing the soldiers who are stationed in the block-houses upon us? Is it not enough that you are marked as being the sweetheart of our dead leader? Must you even stray about the country-side after dark?"
"Manuello ..." panted the poor girl, "I was so frightened ... someone was in the path and I jumped to one side and then someone came behind me and I ran! I did not mean to do wrong ... I went to see the lady at the mansion on the hill ... she asked me to come for she pitied me because of Victorio's death.... I am sorry if I did wrong by going, Manuello ... I hope you will forgive me ..." she ended, pleadingly, leaning against the door with one hand over her fluttering heart and looking up into his angry eyes.
His countenance softened in a moment as he gazed upon her delicate beauty, and stretching out his arms he said to her:
"Rest, little Sister, here, here upon my breast. All the others are asleep and you and I are alone. I would not scold you for the world, but we must all be as cautious as we can for we are living in very dangerous times."
Estrella evaded his offered embrace and hastened into her own little room after bidding him a short goodnight; she wondered, vaguely, what it was that had startled her in the path, but, in spite of everything, her healthy youth soon asserted itself and she was lost to her little world upon the earth with all its many disappointments and unknown turnings.
The day upon which Estrella made her visit to the mansion on the hill, as the residence of Ruth Wakefield was popularly known in the village of San Domingo, was a memorable one in the history of the Spanish-American war for it happened to be the fifteenth day of February in the year of our Lord and Master 1898.
Upon that fateful day secret preparations had been made by the agents of some of those who were then in power over the people of Cuba ... secret mines had been laid and large quantities of explosives had been placed in Havana Harbor with a set purpose in view; many of those who had been incarcerated in political prisons had been kept in total ignorance of the movements of Spanish troops in Cuba but most of the inhabitants of the Island had known that, for some time, some definite object with reference to our own United States was being considered by those who directed the Spanish soldiery.
Among those who had been apprised of what had been going on during the confinement of those who had been liberated the night before in San Domingo was Manuello; during the absence of Estrella from their home, that evening, this redoubtable warrior had been hobnobbing with the Spanish soldiers in the block-house nearest to the village and had discovered something of the plot to blow up a United States battleship in Havana Harbor; as it was known that theMaine, an armored cruiser of the second-class, had been lying in the harbor for some weeks, the young fellow was especially nervous, and, hearing Estrella's flying feet approaching their dwelling, he dreaded some new horror.
The little village of San Domingo was wrapped in the first sound slumber of the night. Good Father Felix had been dreaming, for some hours, of the heavenly home he hoped, sometime, to reach; old Mage had long ago forgotten all about her defense of her dear young lady, that day, and Estrella was far away from every human care.
But Ruth Wakefield was one of those who never sleep right through the dark hours of any night; from her earliest recollection, she had been wide awake, with a clarified vision of the affairs of daily life as well as of those that were quite beyond the world of men and women who were yet embodied, about the hour of two A.M., and, when she had some especially knotty problem to solve, she seldom slept for more than an hour or so at a time, but would waken to a consciousness of the facts of her human existence with a shock that would almost always cause her to jump as if struck a blow, which, indeed, was the exact state of affairs, only the blow was a mental one.
On this one night, having lost the most of the sleep she should have had upon the previous one, her bodily strength was almost entirely exhausted so that she sunk into a deep and dreamless sleep during the first part of the evening and woke, with a start, about nine P.M.
Rising from her bed, as was her custom upon awakening in the night, she approached one of the large windows of her own room facing Havana Harbor; she could see the lights from the various vessels lying at anchor and imagined that she could make out those of theMaine, which, as it represented her own native land to her, was, naturally, of deep interest to her; she fell to imagining how it would seem to return to the United States on that great ship lying so peacefully and appearing to be so stanch and strong in the harbor below her window ... she wondered if it might not be better for her, now that she no longer had the keen interest in Cuba that she had only recently had, to go back to her own country and so possibly forget the dark eyes and lying lips of the man to whom she had given her virginity only to find it flouted and treated with disdain; for, try as she would to vindicate Victorio Colenzo, she was too just and reasonable to deny to herself that he had acted the part of a sneaking villain both to her and to poor, trusting Estrella, who had not had to see her dream of him lying in fragments at her feet, but who still believed that he had spoken the truth to her when he had told her that she was the only woman he had ever loved; she was too young to know that this statement is a regular trite and tried prevarication, common to almost all male lovers.
But Ruth, at present, was laboring under no delusions with regard to the man she had married, although his dead body was still unburied and she had not so much as said a prayer over his remains ... she knew beyond all shadow of doubt that he had been untrue to both of the women he had professed to love in San Domingo, and her mind was much distraught as she sat at her window and, gazed down upon Havana Harbor upon that memorable evening of February fifteenth, eighteen hundred and ninety-eight.
She had been watching a little boat plying back and forth between the wharf and the battleship which she had picked out among the other black hulks in the harbor as being theMaine, and was speculating, idly, what it could be about, as it seemed busily engaged in something of importance, when, all at once, a mighty detonation shook the entire harbor and the adjacent shore, making even her own stout residence tremble, and, where the majestic battleship had, only just a moment before, been a thing of beauty and power, there was nothing but a wild mass of flying débris and a raging furnace of belching, flaming fire.
Ruth Wakefield realized, even as the terrific explosion occurred, that here was a turning point in the affairs of state and that, in all probability, her own country would, after this, become involved in the war that had been raging in Cuba, then, for about three years; it was with mingled feelings of dismay and dread that she surveyed the activity that very soon became apparent both in the harbor and in the city of Havana; she could see the lights of the rescuing boats as they circled about the scene of the wreck and even hear the groans and supplications of some of the severely wounded survivors, for the night was clear and the light wind carried the sounds from the harbor up to her window so that her very acute hearing told her that this was no casual accident, but, in all probability, a carefully planned holocaust in which her own much-loved native land would, inevitably be involved.
Manuello was one of the first to rush out upon the streets of the little village after the terrific noise of the explosion had rolled away; he passed hastily from cottage to cottage asking the inmates if they were aware of the cause of it, for, being a little below the level of Havana Harbor, the inhabitants of San Domingo could not command a view of it.
As no one seemed able to give him any explanation of the disturbing detonation, he even dared to approach one of the block houses held by the Spanish soldiery; here, he found everything in confusion and excitement ... men were hastily arming themselves so as to be in readiness for whatever orders might come from their superiors, and Manuello found no one among them who seemed much better informed than he, himself, was; he imagined that what he had heard had been the result of the consummation of the plans upon which he had stumbled earlier in the evening and started to climb to the top of the hill upon which Ruth Wakefield's residence was located in order to gain a view of Havana Harbor.
Manuello had almost reached the very top of the hill before he realized that he had come out into the night without a weapon of any kind, and, no sooner had he made this disconcerting discovery than he became aware of some sort of movement directly in his rear; wishing to avoid whatever it might be, he hastily concealed himself and waited for the approach of his unseen companion in the darkness; the steps he had heard came along the path hastily, yet steadily, and the owner of them soon appeared; as he passed Manuello, the young fellow made out that the new-comer was none other than the village Priest who, as it seemed likely, was bent upon the same errand as the hidden peon; Father Felix kept on, sturdily, climbing the grade to the mansion on the hill; having reached the house he at once disappeared inside it and Manuello was again alone upon the hillside.
Gaining a point of vantage, Manuello looked down upon Havana Harbor, and, at once, decided upon the course that he must pursue to cover himself from danger of suspicion as to the possibility of his having participated in the terrible calamity that had befallen the United States battleship, for Manuello knew the exact location of the different ships then anchored in Havana Harbor as he had in his possession a map of it upon which he had drawn certain black crosses which indicated the positions of different vessels, also certain ingenious little flourishes told him the nationality of the various ships, so that he felt as sure as if he were right upon the scene that the battleshipMainehad been blown up in Havana Harbor, that fateful evening, and he knew that there would be a searching investigation made as to what had caused the explosion, so that Manuello had this little problem to consider as well as the one concerning the sudden and mysterious death of Victorio Colenzo just as he was about to be liberated from the prison at San Domingo; for Manuello knew far more concerning that casualty than he had imparted to Estrella when she had so diligently inquired of him about it.
Father Felix found Ruth Wakefield and her little, frightened household fully awake as well as fully aware of the nature of the episode that had startled him to such an extent that he had climbed the hill to ascertain the safety of the inhabitants of the mansion on the hill, for the good Priest pitied the mistress of the mansion far more than he did the poor girl in the cottage, knowing that added refinement often makes more poignant a sorrow that would inevitably be hard for any human heart to bear.
All over the little village of San Domingo, on the morning of February sixteenth, 1898, the news spread like wild-fire that the United States battleship,Maine, had been blown up in Havana Harbor.
Manuello, having secreted his map in what he considered to be a safe place, and having remained quietly inside his own domicile during the balance of the night preceding the general acceptance of the the salient facts concerned in the great disaster, ventured forth at daylight, hoping to discover the condition of the public mind with regard to it.
The first place he visited was one of the block-houses where he had hob-nobbed with the soldiers before the news of the explosion had reached them; here he found closely shut mouths and stern countenances meeting him on every side, as he was known to be engaged in stirring up strife and dissatisfaction among the peons of whom, to some extent, now that Victorio Colenzo was dead, he was an acknowledged leader; the soldiers, knowing nothing of what action would be taken by their own government, much less of how far the resentment of the powerful nation involved in the disaster would carry them, thought that discretion was, by all means, the better part of valor, in this instance, and, accordingly, had no private conversation with Manuello at all, being careful to have several of their number within ear-shot of every word he uttered; he, realizing the situation, after some few moments, went quietly away, glad, indeed, to escape so easily from among the armed hosts of Spain, for his own native country had been under the heel of Spanish oppressors for more than three years, at this time.
From the block-house, the young fellow proceeded to the dwelling of little Tessa for he had a sort of mild affection for her, knowing how profoundly she admired him and being flattered by her preference, while his own heart was set on Estrella, to win whom he had, indeed, committed a most terrible crime, for it had been his hand that had almost severed the handsome head of Victorio Colenzo from his strong and agile body, he having taken advantage of the confusion in the prison at the time of the liberation of the political offenders to vent his own jealous spite upon the natural leader of them all, little dreaming that he had cut off in his prime the husband of the lady of the mansion on the hill, but only congratulating himself on having removed from his own path a dangerous rival in the affections, not only of Estrella, but also of all of those with whom he, Manuello, hoped to advance his own interests; for Victorio Colenzo was a man to be feared by all those who opposed him as Manuello knew very well; now that his dead body was lying there in the little improvised morgue, it seemed to the young Cuban that his great influence would soon die away, and, so far as Estrella was concerned, he felt pretty sure of her as she was so near to him and would, naturally, lean upon him in trouble.
So that, he felt quite complacent as to the recent turns in his affairs, when he entered the rude home of little Tessa; he found that small, dark young woman standing quietly beside a window watching his approach; she turned to him, when another member of the family had admitted him, eagerly and expectantly:
"What do you think, Manuello?" she inquired. "What will be the result of last night's terrible disaster? Shall we, now, have the Americans to fight as well as the Spanish? Will the great United States hold us responsible for this crime? I wondered, right away, what you would think about it all and am so glad you have come over early. Is dear Estrella as well as we could expect under her distressing circumstances? Will the body of her lover be buried, today? Will this new trouble make any difference with the burial of the bodies in the morgue? Tell me everything you know, Manuello. Don't pay any attention to my questions ... just go ahead and tell me!"
She had come near to him as she kept asking questions, and was now beside him and had grasped the collar of his short jacket, for Manuello was something of a dude among his associates and was very particular as to his appearance, being proud of his straight, strong figure and broad shoulders which towered above many of the heads of his companions, so that little Tessa had to stretch her small, dark hands well above her smooth, black head in order to cling as closely as she desired to him.
The young fellow looked down into the eager face lifted toward his own and hesitated a little while before he answered her; diplomacy had become so much a part of his acquired habit that, even when it was unnecessary, as in the present instance, for Tessa trusted him implicitly, he still employed it:
"To begin with," he said, as if issuing a decree from a judgment-seat, "I do not think that the blowing up of the battleship, last night, will make our case in Cuba much harder than it already is ... in fact, it might be that the American government would resent the loss of their property and the murder of their sailors sufficiently to induce them to assist us in our struggle for independence from the tyranny of Spain." He looked about him anxiously, as he made this last statement, for he knew that agents of the government might be in hiding almost anywhere. "As to the burial of Victorio Colenzo," he pronounced the name with some braggadocio, "and the rest, this disaster should make no difference as to that, for when human beings die they have to be buried somehow, no matter what happens." It was with secret satisfaction that he explained this last matter, for, so far as he was concerned, the sooner the body of his victim was under the ground the better he, himself, would feel, "and as to Estrella, as soon as she recovers from the loss of her handsome lover, I think she will listen to reason again and be the same nice girl she was before she ever met this stranger who came among us like a whirlwind and who has left us as suddenly as he appeared among us. Now, little Tessa," he ended, "I think that I have answered all of your questions ... suppose you answer some of mine ... for example," and he bent his bold eyes on her little face, "why are you growing to be so beautiful? Whom do you love more than anything else in the world? When will you be a married woman? Do you like me as well as you did when we were little children? Do you think that Estrella will ever marry me, now that she has lost her new lover? Are you my little friend in this matter and will you assist my cause with Estrella?" seeing a look of consternation spread over her countenance, he ended his category with, "Who isyourlover, little Tessa? I know you must have one for you have grown to be very fair and winsome since we were shut up in that hateful prison."
"Manuello," said the girl, "I don't believe that I will ever marry.... I have no lover and I am not beautiful. Estrella does not love you, now, but she may learn to do so. I wish her to be very happy and if being your wife would make her so, and I see no reason why a girl could not be happy as your wife, Manuello, then I will do what I can to further your cause with her. I know she is in deep sorrow, today, and I intend to do all that I can to help her. Of course you know what arrangements have already been made. Father Felix will take charge of the ceremonies, I understand. I will accompany poor Estrella to the burial place. You may tell her that I will soon be with her."
The simplicity and truth of the young and innocent girl affected even the hardened heart of the murderer and the evident adoration with which she regarded him also had its effect upon him, so that Manuello trembled, inwardly, in spite of all his hardihood and determination to force his passionate love upon Estrella, as he intended only to use poor little Tessa's admiration for him to influence the older and fairer woman; the very fact that Estrella was, very evidently, not of his own race had a powerful attraction for his untutored imagination and, in secret, he often dwelt upon her difference from all the other women of his acquaintance, while he assumed toward herself an air of superiority, hoping thereby to attract her to himself as being above all of the others of their acquaintance; now that his successful rival was out of his way the young fellow looked forward to an early conquest of the heart and hand of Estrella, and, now that the Americans had become involved in the Cuban war, he hoped for the defeat of the Spaniards as he never had before. Therefore, he could well afford to be a little condescending to the young girl who still clung to his hands as if to her only hope of happiness and looked up adoringly into his smiling eyes.
Stooping toward her a little, he suddenly raised her in his strong arms and lifted her small, eager face to a level with his own; her lips were very near to his and were trembling for that very reason, so he stilled them by holding them for a passionate moment against his virile mouth.
Tessa yielded to his embrace without thinking of its import for Manuello was a strong and healthy man, full of the electrical attraction that goes with those of his build, and, like many uneducated human beings, the animal side of his nature was more fully developed than any other part of it so that almost any healthy young woman appealed to him in some degree and Tessa's evident affection for himself added to her power in this respect.
The two young beings were placed in the situation in which we have described them for only a very short space of earthly time, but it was sufficient to build up a barrier around Manuello that separated him from all the rest of the young men known to the simple-minded girl with whom he was only playing at making love, for all of that sacred emotion of which he was capable had been laid at the feet of the girl who had scoffed at his advances, for some years.
When he had set her, gently, upon her small feet again, Manuello addressed the small maiden in an almost wheedling tone, for he thought that he could, now, better control her feelings than before the episode of the past few moments:
"Youdolike me as much as before I was put away in prison, don't you, little Tessa? Estrella's aloofness from me on account of her crazy notions about Victorio Colenzo has not affected you with regard to me, has it? I can depend upon you as upon a faithful little friend, I believe I can, anyway ... how about that, little Girl?"
He bent his black eyes upon her as he asked the question, and, with his picturesque costume, dark face, up-tiltedmustachio, as black as his heavy, curling hair, and his strong and agile figure, in many ways, he was as handsome as anyone upon whom Tessa's eyes had ever rested, for, to her simple mind, Victorio had been too much inclined toward intellectual pursuits to really appeal very strongly to her untutored mind and she had never been able to understand why Estrella preferred him to Manuello; now, she answered the latter in no uncertain language:
"Ofcourseyou can depend on my friendship ... ofcourseI would always do anything I could to help you ... even ..." her voice shook over the words, "even with the woman whom you love and prefer to all the other women whom you know ... Estrella," she said this firmly as if to convince even herself of the truth of the statement. "Estrellaissuperior to the rest of us girls around here ... she is of another race of people, I believe ... a superior race, I guess ... anyway," she ended naïvely, "I love her and do not blameyou, Manuello, for doing the same thing."
It took a good deal of courage and loyalty combined for the girl to make the remarks we have just recorded here with her small mouth yet tingling from the kisses, for Manuello had not been chary of their number while he had the opportunity to bestow them, of the man whom she almost worshiped as earthly women adore merely human men, but she had waded through the above sentences, bravely, and felt better after having passed through what was an ordeal for her to undergo.
Manuello scarcely knew how to meet this plain exposition of the matter under consideration and quickly changed the subject of conversation, not wishing to go too far, all at once, with Tessa, as that might complicate his relations with Estrella, and, yet, feeling the need of some stanch friend, in case he should have need of one, for he realized, dimly, that he might easily be in danger, at any time, for various good reasons, for he had been implicated in many of the plots of the revolutionists as well as having secrets of his own to cover up; he was naturally cautious as far as his own safety was concerned and did not wish to involve himself any farther than seemed best for his own interests with Tessa, and, yet, he desired to have her assistance ready at hand in case he should have need of anything so feeble.
He had now fixed her previous regard for him upon a vital memory, so that she would not soon forget the few moments she had passed encircled by his arms, and this was all he cared to do in that line, at present.... Later on, in case Estrella still remained obdurate ... why ... that would be a far different matter; he had now arranged for himself a secret harbor in the simple heart of this uneducated girl, so that, if pursued too closely by cruel storms, out on the open sea, he could retire to it at will.
As for Tessa, after she had made her declaration of love for Estrella, she felt that she had performed her full duty in that matter, and went about her preparations for the affairs of that day, with an even lighter heart than before Manuello's short visit, for, after all, she had discovered that she was not at least repulsive to the man she had secretly loved for almost as long as she could remember anything, for they had grown up in San Domingo together and he had always been identified with her daily life; the beauty of her personal dream regarding the tall Cuban had been her motive in assisting in the liberation of the prisoners, mentioned in the beginning of this narrative, as she had small sympathy with Estrella's adoration of Victorio Colenzo, although she was willing to have her intimate girl-friend feel exactly as she had felt and pitied her with all her loving heart, now that she had lost, in such a terrible manner, the man she loved and who, as they both had believed, loved her.
When Manuello left the dwelling of the little woman of whose affection he was certain he hastened home to find out what attitude the woman he loved would take toward the new conditions in Cuba, as well as to ascertain what preparations she was making for the burial of the man whose earthly life he had, himself, taken, although she was far from imagining anything of the kind concerning either her dead lover or her so-called half-brother.
He found Estrella much perturbed as was to have been expected under the circumstances for he knew that she had been deeply enamored of the handsome stranger whose dead body was now being prepared for interment by the village undertaker to whom Estrella had given the money presented to her by old Mage, so that the man's body was being taken care of through the charity of his wife which had been bestowed upon his sweetheart neither of whom had been known to him at all a few months before.
As the hour for the funeral exercises drew near, a handsome carriage drew up in front of the humble door where Estrella made her home; from within it emerged no less a person than old Mage herself who had been sent by Ruth Wakefield to escort the sorrowing girl to and from the rude graveyard where the body of her own husband would be placed, that day; she had told good Father Felix what to do as to the simple services but had decided to absent herself from them, not being sure as to how much endurance she would have and being determined not to add to the grief of the innocent girl who had been deceived by the man whose name she had assumed but never been known by in her own family, even, as, at his especial request, she had kept the marriage hidden from all of her acquaintances except the few members of her own little household who were devoted to her and her interests and went about among the villagers very little, as what business they had was transacted in Havana instead of San Domingo.
Estrella was pleased and flattered by this attention from the lady of the mansion on the hill and entered the carriage to find Father Felix already there, for the carriage had been sent to the refectory before it came to her own home; she remembered the message little Tessa had sent to her so she asked old Mage to go to her dwelling for her, which was done, and completed the sad little group that rode directly behind the rude wagon which took the place of a hearse and which carried the body of Victorio Colenzo to its last earthly resting-place.
The grief of the young girl was very pitiful and, as they turned away from the narrow grave, old Mage felt moved to try to comfort her a little by distracting her attention from her sorrow; seeing Manuello lurking in the background as the funeral party were about to leave the cemetery, she said to Estrella:
"Will your brother ride home with us? I remember his face for he has brought fruit to our door and he told me, once, that you were his half-sister."
The poor girl stifled her sobs long enough to listen to the old woman's remark but made no other answer to it than to shake her head; little Tessa turned her face in the direction indicated by old Mage and saw Manuello with a look of diabolical triumph mingled with fear and hatred on his dark face so that, in spite of her love for him, his expression frightened her and made even her turn away from the sight of the great change in his countenance from what she had seen resting there only that morning.
Ruth Wakefield had spend the hour devoted to the funeral exercises of her own husband very quietly and in entire solitude; she was accustomed to the latter condition and there was no one among her acquaintances in whom she cared to confide except the good Priest who had done what he could to console and sustain her spirit through this trial that had been forced upon her by untoward circumstances and her own faith in humanity; she watched her own carriage descend the hill and pass into the little village ... she saw the small funeral procession as it wended its way along the palm-lined street ... she watched it enter the gate of the little cemetery and even saw poor Estrella as she alighted from the vehicle and leaned upon the arm of her small friend as she approached the open grave that was to contain the mortal remains of the man who had been, if only for a short space of time, her own husband ... and yet she did not faint ... she did not cry out ... she had had her fight with her own nature and she had won out after a hard struggle; all that was left of the love she had entertained for the handsome Cuban who had entered into her life so disastrously, was an open wound which time alone could ever heal.
When old Mage returned to the mansion on the hill she sought out her young lady and would have, in her usual garrulous manner, reported everything that she had noticed during her absence had she received encouragement to do so; on the contrary, she found Ruth, apparently, deeply interested in a large volume which she had placed on a table before her chair; she rested her head on her hands, from time to time, and only looked up to welcome her old nurse, then resumed the perusal of the page she happened to have open at the time of her entrance into the library.
Ruth Wakefield had always found her chief delight among her many good books; she browsed among them for mental sustenance and for spiritual solace and found rich pasturage; it had been said of her, while she was yet a small child, that, in case it ever became necessary to perform a surgical operation upon any part of her delicate body, an anæsthetic would not be essential, as all that she would need would be to have someone read aloud to her from some fine piece of literature.
So, in the terrible affliction that had so recently befallen her, it was as natural for her to go to her books for comfort as it would have been for another woman to go to some understanding friend, for that was what Ruth Wakefield found among her books ... understanding and safe friends who would never betray her secrets or her confidence in them ... who would never deceive and torture her and who represented to her the finest and best impulses in human nature as well as those higher sentiments to which she always clung and which, now, in this crisis of her life, carried her safely over what might have crazed a mind less well poised than hers.
The morning after the funeral exercises of Victorio Colenzo, Father Felix ascended the hill upon which Ruth Wakefield's home was located and sought her out, for the good Priest was much perturbed because of her present condition and went to see her with the intention of advising her to leave Cuba, at least for a time, as the situation with regard to her own country was almost certain to become acute, after the disaster of a few nights previous, and it seemed to him to be imprudent for a young woman to remain alone with only retainers about her among the wild people among whom he labored; for Father Felix knew far more of the nature of these people than many others possibly could and he realized that the wealth surrounding the Wakefield residence was in itself a menace to the fair owner of it; although he, himself, intended to remain among his parishioners under all circumstances, it did not seem to be a wise procedure for an unprotected woman to do so.
He had studied the situation over from many view-points and had settled on the best course, according to his judgment and knowledge of the situation, for her to pursue, and he, now, laid this course before her with the benevolent intention of assisting her to follow it in every way within his limited power:
"My dear Miss Ruth," he began, hesitatingly, for he was not sure of just what effect either her husband's violent death or the recent explosion in the harbor would have on her sensitive nature, "I wish that you would consider your own situation very carefully; you are now alone here except for those who are under your employ, and the people of the surrounding country are in a high state of excitement. At almost any moment, now, your own native land, to which you are devoted, may declare itself to be in a state of war with Spain, following the blowing up of the battleship; in that case, your situation, here, would be even more precarious than it is at present and it is far from being secure, even now; what I had thought of proposing to you is that you, at once, gather together what you consider to be the most precious of your worldly possession, here, and place them in some storage building in Havana, leaving the house, here, with as few valuables as possible inside of it, then, with probably your old nurse as a companion and charge, return at once to your own country, anyway, until the war-cloud that is now hanging over Cuba has been lifted; it looks to me," he ended, "as if that would not be for some years yet ... of course America is a powerful country and if she takes this matter up in earnest, it may be that it will come to an end more quickly than I fear it may."
He waited, quietly, then, for Ruth to think over his remarks; she had regarded him earnestly while he had been speaking, and, now, sat with her hands folded in her lap for a few minutes before she spoke:
"Father Felix," she began, at length, "Father Felix, I appreciate the reasons that prompted you to come to me and advise me as you have just been doing; I understand that you consider me unfit to cope with the present situation under my circumstances and I wish to inform you that I do not intend to run away from my duty any more than you do. I take it for granted, Father, that you expect to remain with your people no matter what may come to them? I believe that the more need they may have of you, the more anxious you will be to serve them. Now I," she continued, earnestly and unwaveringly, "I have not done my full duty, up to now, among these people to whom you have devoted all of your energies; I feel that I owe my fellow-beings more than I have given to them in many ways, for I have been very much of a recluse, as you know, loving my books and enjoying my home and the natural beauties I have delighted in all around me; it may be, that, in the crisis that seems imminent, I may find some good work that will wholly absorb my energies ... it may be ..." she said, while a high resolve settled over her sensitive features, "it may be, good Father Felix, that I may be permitted to do almost as much good in our little world as you, yourself, are doing and have already done. Would you bar me from the proud privilege of sharing your labor and of receiving some measure of the rich reward which is awaiting you?"
Father Felix gazed upon her as if upon a being already translated beyond the common things of earth, and, realizing the firmness of her evident resolve, he extended his hands toward her in blessing. As she bowed her head to receive it there was a rapt look upon her face such as the holy angels who welcome the souls of the newly dead must have upon their features ... the inner consciousness of Ruth Wakefield shone through her earthly lineaments and transfigured them so that they were even more fair than they had been before.
"My Daughter," said the good Priest, "forgive me for proposing what I did; I did not fully understand you; from this time on, I hope that we may find much good work that we can do in common, for I would be proud and glad to be engaged with you upon our Father's business. Let us consult with each other in our plans for the betterment of the poor people among whom our lot in life has been cast. I was going to speak to you about the girl, Estrella," he went on, watching her face while he talked; "she is in need of different surroundings than she has at present, for she is not of the race of those with whom she has been staying; the young man who calls her his half-sister knows very well that she has none of his blood in her veins, and he is almost constantly tormenting her with offers of his heart and hand, when the poor girl is really a mourner for the man whom she believed, as you did, to be worthy of a good woman's love. The girl is strong and willing and capable beyond the common run of the people among whom she has spent her life thus far. I believe she would fully appreciate kindness and would repay it in every way in her power. What I have just thought of is, perhaps, impossible for you to do, at present, but it may be that, in the future, you may consider it. If you could bring yourself to have her in your home she would be safe from harm and might be a very great help to you if you carry on the work that is now in your mind to do. For," he rose to his feet and walked rapidly from one end of the room to the other, "if America declares war on Spain with a view to the independence of Cuba, there will be much heroic work for you and me to do, my dear Daughter ... there will be much work for us two to perform."