Ruth Wakefield also rose ... it seemed to her that the situation demanded that she meet it on her feet....
"Father Felix," she said calmly and softly, "Father Felix, have Estrella brought to me, today; let us begin our good work at once. There is nothing that my beloved country can demand of me that I would not be glad to give to its sacred cause. I believe that I can do more for my native land, here, in Cuba, at the present time, than if I should return to it, now. It may be that an American, with some degree of wealth and intelligence, can be of service, here, at this critical juncture in her country's history."
"Our native land could not have a better representative, my Daughter. As you know, I, also, am an American and I am proud, indeed, to claim you as a fellow-countryman. From now on we will more fully understand each other and I shall be glad to consult with you about many important matters. I will proceed at once to carry out your instructions with regard to the young girl of whom we have been speaking, for I feel that her case is one of peculiar importance, since I fully believe that she, also, is an American, although I have been unable, up to this time, to trace her parentage beyond the fact that a man, presumably her father, left her in the care of the woman who brought her up as one of her own children, in the little village below here. The poor girl has had a sorry life so far and really deserves better treatment than she has received, or so it seems to me from my finite stand-point. I do not presume to question the wisdom or justice of God, but, often, I am puzzled when I see the innocent suffer and the guilty escape punishment here in this world; I always trust in our heavenly Father implicitly, and, yet, at times, I am sorely put to it to furnish reasons for certain people having been placed in certain environments. I believe that all this will be explained to us in good time, but many things are hard to understand while we remain finite beings with only the intelligence that has been bestowed upon humanity to reason with. Conscience," he went on almost as if talking to himself, "conscience is our infallible guide and was given to us so that we would never be without direction in whatever circumstances we may be placed. Now, in this instance ... I honestly thought that I was doing right to come here this morning and advise you as I did, and, yet, God, in His great Wisdom, guided you, at once, into the only path that you were ever meant to walk in ... the path that will lead you on to the peace that passeth human understanding."
After a little rather desultory conversation, with which he hoped to lighten the outlook of the lonely woman, the good Priest wended his solitary way down the hill and back to the scene of most of his labors among the ignorant people whom he hoped to help toward a better enlightenment, and, as he walked slowly down the path leading to the village, he turned and looked back at the mansion on the hill, crossed himself, and murmured:
"Of such is the kingdom of heaven."
When Estrella reached the mansion on the hill she found its mistress quietly awaiting her outside the dwelling; she welcomed the young girl with out-stretched hands, saying:
"Father Felix has done well, indeed, to send you to me so quickly, Estrella. I want you to feel perfectly at home, here. Old Mage will take you to your own room and tell you what little duties you may assume if you wish to do so. When you have arranged these little domestic matters, come to me in the library and we will talk over some plans I have in which I think you will be interested when you have somewhat recovered from your recent loss. I know, from my own experience, that there is but one way to carry sorrow through one's daily life and that is to be busy. If one has enough physical energy and nervous strength, one can accomplish a great deal of good in the world in spite of personal sorrow. You are young and have not had an easy life so far ... it may be that I can assist you so that, from now on, you and I may be able to help each other in doing good work among those who are weaker than we are."
Old Mage was only too willing to take charge of the girl, for, while she did not really like the idea of having her in the family, yet, she was aware that Ruth needed companionship and she enjoyed having a goodly number of people around her as her life consisted, mainly, of what each day brought into it, for old Mage, while she was a good woman and a faithful friend, was not a thinker and made few plans for the future.
She led Estrella to the room that Ruth had arranged to have her occupy, and, having explained certain little matters to her concerning the daily round of life in the house, she began to question her as to what she had learned regarding the explosion in Havana Harbor and what she thought as to the probability of the United States declaring war on Spain on account of it.
The girl had little information to give to the old woman for she had been too much absorbed by her own recent grief to even think of any of the consequences that might follow the accident ... it seemed to her that if the whole United States navy were blown up, it would make small difference to her now that she had lost Victorio for he had represented to her everything that meant happiness for her in the future; she had yet to learn many things that would, eventually, bring to her the kind of happiness that is lasting and to be depended upon when all that is transitory and ephemeral has passed beyond knowledge and memory.
At length, old Mage wearied of quizzing Estrella and left her to her own thoughts which were confused and uncertain; she did not understand why the lady of the mansion had condescended to ask her to come to her for Father Felix had left her in doubt as to any reason, only telling her that Miss Ruth desired her to come to her, at least for a time, to act as a sort of companion as she was alone a great deal; he did not explain to her that there might be work for her to do in the near future, leaving that part to Ruth, very wisely.
Father Felix led his little flock into fresh pastures when he felt that they were ready for such a change but he reflected deeply before doing this and hoped, in the case of the girl under consideration, that companionship with one as unselfish and intrinsically good and noble as Ruth Wakefield would do more for her character than any counsel he could give to her; the good Priest was well aware that the handsome, young, dashing Cuban had fascinated both the women and he felt sure that, had he lived long enough in the same world with them, he would have broken both their hearts, for it was his nature, evidently, to gather flowers wherever he found them and throw them away to wither and die; Father Felix was a normal human being as well as a spiritual leader and he recognized facts with regard to human nature as he found them, not being deceived by appearances as a less intellectual person would have been, or as a man possessed of weaker masculine traits than those that had been bestowed upon him.
There was one among his parishioners of whose case he was doubtful ... he was very anxious concerning Manuello for he knew that the young man had some sort of guilty secret that he had confessed to no one and this was one reason influencing him in his endeavor to extricate the innocent Estrella from her immediate surroundings; he knew that, in the troubled condition of the country, Manuello would be almost certain, with his wild and untutored nature, to get into some sort of tangle with authorities and supposed that the trouble he was well aware of as being on the young fellow's conscience had something to do with existing Spanish laws; he, himself, in breaking down the doors of the prison in order to liberate this man among the rest of the prisoners, had been guilty of violating a strict mandate and knew that he was liable to arrest at any time, but, now that America might come into the struggle on her own account, instead of simply through sympathy with the wrongs of the people of Cuba, he realized that his own case had taken on a new color, for, as he had told Ruth Wakefield, Father Felix was a native American and loved his own country devotedly, although he had been acting as a missionary in Cuba for some years of his active life in the priesthood; he was dwelling on the state of mind of Manuello, sitting quietly in his own place in the refectory, the evening after the events related in the preceding chapter, when he heard a hasty knock at his door and immediately opened it to admit the subject of his thoughts.
The young man entered as if upon a desperate errand and sat down in the first chair he found without waiting for the invitation of the Priest, a proceeding that, alone, showed the condition of his mind:
"Good Father," he began without introduction, "where is Estrella? She has not been home for some hours and none of the family seem to know much about her; all they told me was that I was to come to you for information ... and here I am."
The Priest looked into his eager face and pitied while he condemned him, for he could see that he greatly mourned the absence of the girl whom he had decided in his own heart to have for his own.
"Manuello," said Father Felix, at length, having regarded him with a sympathetic smile, "you must accept the situation as calmly as you can. I have to tell you that Estrella has found another home than yours and will, from this on, be under good care and will, I hope, find happiness later on in her career ... she is a good girl and deserves to be happy," he concluded, benevolently.
"Do you mean," demanded Manuello, "that I am not to see her any more? That I am to be shut out from her life? I want to know," he rose to his feet, "I demand to know what you have done with her? Have you placed her in some convent?"
His voice had risen as he added question to question and he faced the Priest with a fierce expression on his dark and lowering features. His attitude had no effect on Father Felix who was without bodily fear and knew that, in the present instance, at least, he stood upon safe ground, having, as he well knew, removed the girl from danger from the very being who, now, glared at him:
"My Son," he said, "my Son, compose yourself. I will brook no demonstration of vile anger from you. Estrella has been put beyond your power. I do not know," he went on, coolly, "just what it is that is upon your conscience at present, but I do know there is something that will not bear a close investigation by the authorities, and I advise you to have a care how you conduct yourself in the future. Cuba will have need of your strong arm and I hope that you will use it in her service."
Cowed by the sternness of the tone of voice in which he had been addressed as well as by his own guilty knowledge, Manuello, silently, and without thanks or regrets of any kind, left the refectory, slamming the door after him ... an indignity that few would dare to place upon their record; giving vent, inwardly, to the curses he did not dare to utter, he retraced his steps to his own home, intending to get what information he could from the other members of his family as to how Estrella went away; reaching his domicile, he, at once, began to ply his father, who had returned from his daily toil, with various inquiries, but found him not only uncommunicative but, apparently, also uninformed as to what had taken place during his absence; all that the other members of the family knew was that Father Felix had come hurriedly to the house and had a short conversation with Estrella when she had packed a few personal effects, of which, indeed, the poor girl had but few, and left the place, telling them she would see them again from time to time and leaving kind farewells for both himself and his father.
Then he remembered how intimate Estrella had always been with Tessa and decided his best course would be to go to her little friend, being well aware that any information she might have she would gladly give to him; he was hurrying along, intent upon this new hope of relief from his anxiety regarding the woman he imagined himself to be deeply in love with, when, all at once, he became aware that someone was following his footsteps, guardedly and yet with determination; immediately upon this knowledge, there stalked into the foreground of his consciousness the fear of discovery of his recent crime; the intimation of the Priest that he had suspected it had stirred within him the instinct of self-protection and he hastened his progress along the familiar and narrow street, hoping to out-distance his pursuer, whoever he might happen to be.
It seemed to him that he was succeeding in this last effort and he was congratulating himself upon his own celerity, when a hand was laid rather heavily upon his shoulder and a loud and insistent voice declared him to be the prisoner of the owner of it.
Instantly, Manuello became a beast of prey, cornered in its lair, and furious with all the animal instincts of self-preservation. He squirmed away from the heavy hand and whirled around to face his would-be captor and looked directly into the muzzle of a very capable gun held in steady hands that seemed well accustomed to its use.
"Up wid ye'er fists, ye dirty spalpeen ye!" commanded the man behind the gun, using his own rich native brogue in the excitement of the moment. "Hould 'em right there ..." he went on, as Manuello, instinctively, though sullenly, obeyed him, "til I snap these putty bracelets on ye'er wrists!" fumbling in his pocket with one hand while he held the gun in the other, steadying it against his shoulder, for he had come prepared, knowing his prospective prisoner to be a desperate character. "There, now!" having completed his search and placed a handcuff on one of Manuello's wrists. "Up wid that one and over to its mate!"
But his prisoner was indeed a desperate man and did not intend to yield to arrest as easily as it had appeared, at first; raising the manacled wrist, he brought the steel bracelets down on the red head of the Irishman, felling him to the ground; then it was but the work of a moment to secure the loaded gun, and, after that, the tables were completely turned for Manuello immediately became the master of the situation; looking hastily about him to be sure that he was unobserved, he was about to complete the utter defeat of the man who had given him such a terrific fright by beating his brains out with the clubbed gun, when he heard his own name spoken in a soft, low, scared voice; turning, he beheld little Tessa standing behind him.
"Oh, Manuello," she cried, breathing pantingly, "what has happened here? Are you hurt? There is blood on your wrist ... and ..." here she stopped in consternation, "what else have you here?" for the Irishman had done, at least, a part of his work well, having locked the handcuff which the young man had almost forgotten he was wearing, "Take the hateful thing off, dear Manuello ... do take it off ... I don't like to see it on your wrist."
"Easier said than done, my dear little Girl!" declared the victim, smilingly. "But we can fix that somehow; in the meantime, we will let this fellow lay where he has fallen. Someone of his tribe will, likely, be along, soon, and they can take care of each other. Come along, Tessa, we will see what we can do with this piece of jewelry ... it is rather unwieldy ... I don't like the look of it."
The home of the young girl was not far distant and thither they repaired; after repeated efforts to file through or break the manacles, Tessa bethought herself of one possible method of releasing Manuello and acted upon her idea at once; running out upon the street she approached the place where the soldier had fallen, for he wore the uniform of the Spanish army, intending to feel in all of his pockets for a key that would unlock the handcuffs.
As she drew near to the spot she heard low voices and crept along in the shadow of the shrubbery that lined the narrow street until she was within ear-shot; then she realized that two more soldiers had joined their fallen comrade whom they had resuscitated, so that he was relating to them something of the circumstances that had led to his present plight:
"Ye see, b'ys," he was saying, "I wanted to arrist the spalpeen myself becase I think he is not only a revolutionist, but, also, a mhurderer ... a fella we arristed yesterday tould me that he thinksthiswan killed the leader of thim all ... seems he was jealous of him ... they both wanted the same ghirl...."
Tessa, realizing that her errand was useless, turned to go back silently, but the words she had heard had burned themselves into her brain, and when she was again beside Manuello he seemed far different to her than he had before; she found him almost crazy from fear of discovery as he had failed in all of his efforts to free himself from the device that had been placed upon his wrist.
"Did you get the key?" he demanded, almost fiercely. "Where is it? This cursed thing is almost killing me!"
Frightened at his expression and regretting her inability to help him, the girl began to cry, lifting her apron to her eyes to wipe away her tears; as she did so, the young man said to her, angrily:
"Well ...standthere and cry while I am suffering ... you'll do a lot of good that way ... hustle out and see if you can't find some tool to get this thing off of me ... go to the village blacksmith and tell him some lie or other ... ask him how you can get an iron off your little sister's leg ... do something ... someone will come in and find me this way!"
"Even if they did, Manuello ... you are not under arrest ... the man don't know where you are, now; but I'll go and try to find some way to help you ... of course I will ..." said the generous-hearted girl, "I amsosorry for you, and, now, that Estrella is gone...."
She hurried out, then, leaving the young fellow in no pleasant mood, for he had much to reflect upon and a pair of heavy handcuffs hanging to one wrist is not conducive to a man's happiness.
Tessa soon returned and had to report that her efforts in his behalf were, again, unsuccessful, for the blacksmith had only said:
"Bring the child to me and I will do what I can for her."
Manuello was, now, almost in despair and he was wise enough to know that cursing, while it might relieve his feelings to some extent, would not really help the situation, so he pulled his sleeve down as far as he could over the manacled wrist and proceeded to find out what he could concerning Estrella.
Tessa would have felt much freer than she did had she not remembered the words of the soldiers concerning the crime of which they suspected the young man, and only told him that Estrella had come running to her, that morning, and had told her that she was going away for a while but that she would see her again, soon.
Manuello had to content himself with this, hoping to find out more from Tessa within a day or so, and went away, divided between a desire to revenge himself upon the man who had tried to arrest him and self-congratulation upon his escape, but most of all he pondered how to get the hateful handcuffs from his wrist, for, besides being painful and unwieldly, he knew that they would attract attention to him.
Manuello was almost desperate regarding the manacles still clamped firmly on his wrist; it left his right hand free and he could use the fingers of the left hand, so he bound the wrist, placing the second handcuff above the one that was locked and laying it as close to the wrist as possible; he left his hand free as he could and simply told his family that he had cut the arm when engaged in practicing with the machete in the use of which weapon the Cuban insurgents were especially accomplished; this explanation of his supposed wound was sufficient and no one had any idea of the actual facts except Tessa and she was both too loyal to the young man and too frightened because of the reported crime he had committed to do anything but keep his secret inviolate; he depended upon her acknowledged affection for him and had no doubt that she would defend him if occasion required such a proceeding; his chief anxiety, at present, was to find out the where-abouts of Estrella, for he was of a fiery and passionate nature and the disappearance of the girl but added to his desire for her.
On the morning after the accident he had sustained he started out with the determination to discover where Estrella had gone, for, as she had said that she would soon see his own family as well as little Tessa, he reasoned that she could not have gone very far away; so he began his search by climbing to the top of the hill behind the village, intending to try to locate her hiding-place by the simple method of checking off in his own mind impossible localities for concealment and then deciding which of the probable ones to investigate; having reached the point of vantage he wished, he began by cutting out the refectory ... then his own home ... then Tessa's dwelling-place ... then numerous small houses where he knew it would be practically impossible for another human being to be entertained in.
Just as he had reached this point in his revery, his attention was attracted to the mansion on the hill, and he began to observe, closely, the movements of every one who came to or went from the house; he did not really suspect that Estrella was there, but his mind wandered idly over the residences within his view and lighted upon the mansion on the hill as something different from the other dwellings he could see.
As he watched the gateway of Ruth Wakefield's residence, he noticed, emerging from it, old Mage whom he remembered as being there, in what he considered to be the capacity of an upper servant; he looked at the old woman because she happened to be in his line of vision and not because he had any curiosity concerning her movements; but the nature of the errand upon which she seemed to be bound not only surprised, but amused, him, for she carried in her hand a large basket of choice cut flowers, and, from time to time, as she walked along, she stooped to gather dried leaves that had fallen in the pathway with which she seemed trying to conceal the contents of her basket; she seemed satisfied, at last, and ceased to gather leaves, while she quickened her pace to a sort of slow amble which gait she maintained until she had passed beyond Manuello's view; he wondered, idly, why she covered the flowers, and was about to move to a point which commanded a more perfect view of the pathway, when his attention was again attracted to the gateway of the Wakefield residence.
This time, it was quite a different person who appeared between the high stone pillars ... a tall woman, evidently young and active, plainly but serviceably dressed, stood, for a moment, shading her eyes with her hand from the glaring sunlight, peering down the pathway along which old Mage had just been walking; she remained in this position but a very short time, however, for she was, soon, joined by another woman who seemed as much interested as she had been in watching the pathway; as the two young creatures stood there, side by side, Manuello could not but remark upon the similarity of their forms and general appearance ... both were evidently strong and agile ... both seemed possessed of bounding health and youthful vigor; it seemed to him that one of the women looked more sturdy than the other one did, but, as she was wearing a wide and drooping hat, such as many of the natives of the Island were accustomed to wear, he could not see her face; as she approached the woman who had first appeared in the gateway, there was something in her manner that seemed familiar to the young fellow, and, as she put one hand, gently, on the other's shoulder, he, again, seemed to recognize something familiar in the movement; then she spoke, and, although he was too far away to hear her words, he knew the tones of her voice, and realized that his search for Estrella was ended.
As this knowledge was fully impressed upon him he cast about in his mind as to what method of procedure to take to bring about his desired end which was to see and talk with the girl, himself, as soon as possible; first, he thought to approach the house as a fruit-peddler, but put that thought aside as unlikely to attain his object ... then, he decided to spy around the place until he located Estrella's own room, intending to bring his guitar and sing under her window some native love-songs, hoping to impress upon her his undying affection and imagining that, now that Victorio was out of the way, his cause would be more likely to succeed than before.
He had started out to carry this intention into practice, leaving his original position among the heavy timber that skirted the hill, and going more into the open than before in order to more closely approach the house, when he became aware of another presence in the wooded section that he had just left; he could not make out just what this presence was ... his ideas concerning it were hazy and uncertain, but he felt sure that he was not alone and, now that he had left the timber, it seemed to him that the unknown presence was following close behind him; he turned sharply around but discovered nothing behind him and kept on in the direction he had been proceeding in, although his nerves were keyed up and ready to jump at the slightest sound; suddenly, directly in front of him, he heard a voice saying:
"Do not approach any nearer to her. If you insist upon doing so you must take the consequences which are freighted with bitter pain for you."
It seemed to Manuello that this voice was within himself and came from his own thoughts and, yet, it seemed, also, to be in the pathway ahead of him, separated from him and yet a part of him; he hesitated, as above everything else, the natives of Cuba are superstitious and Manuello was no exception to this rule; his own criminal record, naturally, made him timid; besides, Estrella's evidently favored position as a member of the household of Ruth Wakefield elevated the girl in his estimation, for everyone in that neighborhood had great respect, amounting almost to veneration, for the inmates of the mansion on the hill.
The young man stopped in his progress toward the house and turned his attention, for an anxious moment, to his manacled wrist, which gave him a great deal of uneasiness and some suffering as well; as he held this wrist with his free right hand, he had his back toward the path that led down into the village, and was unaware of the nearness of Father Felix until the good Priest touched him on the elbow; wheeling round, instantly, he faced the only man he was not afraid to meet among his neighbors; for, although the Priest had told him he knew that he possessed a guilty secret, yet he, also was aware of Father Felix' usual kindness and protection exercised over his people, so that it was with a feeling of relief that he discovered who the new-comer was.
"My Son," said the Priest, "you are abroad early ... what news have you heard in the village, this morning?"
Manuello looked at him searchingly as if to discover why he asked him this question, wondering if he had heard of his own encounter of the evening before, but failing to gain any knowledge of the secret thoughts of the Priest, he said at random:
"Everything is about as usual, I guess ... nothing startling seems to have happened during the night."
"I heard," began Father Felix, "I heard that a soldier had been struck down by some marauder shortly after the time of your leaving my society, last night, and I thought you might have happened to be in the vicinity of the crime. By-the-way," he went on, solicitously, "what has happened to your left wrist?"
"Oh ... that!" said Manuello, carelessly. "That is simply a love token from the machete of a friend of mine while we were sparring for practice; as you said, last night, Cuba may have need of us fighting-men soon, and we wish to be ready to take our proper place when the time for action comes."
"Well, be careful of your weapons, my Son ... save your steel for your enemies and those of your native land."
Speaking in this manner, the good Priest pursued his journey up the hill and disappeared within the gateway where Manuello had, only very recently, seen Estrella standing with the mistress of the mansion; he decided, under the existing circumstances, to retrace his steps toward the village, contenting himself with the thought that he now knew where Estrella was; he thought that he might as well impart this information to little Tessa, and, also, he wanted to find out whether she had heard anything more about his encounter with the soldier on the street, also if she had thought of any way whereby he might be freed from the manacles which became more and more distressing and uncomfortable.
With this thought in his mind, he was approaching Tessa's home when he was intercepted by the very individual he meant to inquire about.
"What the divil!" exclaimed the Irishman. "Sky-larking by daylightthistoime, me foine high-way-mon?"
Manuello had drawn back, prepared to again bring the hated handcuffs down upon the poll of the man before him, if he offered any indignities, when he was surprised to notice a wheedling tone in the voice of his opponent of the evening before.
"Indade, mon," began the soldier, "I am in need of those putty bracelets I gave ye, last night; a prisint like them is not bestowed ivry day, I tell yees. The only thanks ye give me was a crack on me head wid em which took away but little of me sinse as I had but little in the beginning.... I might have known betther than to have tackled a foine, up-standin' fella like yees, single-handed. Yer a foine figure of a mon, me Frind, and I'd like mighty well to serve be the side of ye ... how would itdo, now, fer ye to enlist in the arrmy and give me back me bracelets if I spake a good worrd fer ye wid me Captain?"
Manuello looked at him in surprise, but, seeing a chance to get rid of the hateful manacles, decided to agree to the proposition of the other, at least for the time being.
"All right," he acquiesced, "go ahead and take these cursed thing off me, first, and then tell me where you want me to go."
The wary Irishman watched the face of the Cuban, doubtfully, but, as he really wished to be able to account for the handcuffs, he took the key from his pocket and stepped a little closer to the young fellow in order to use it, being careful to keep a firm hold on his gun the while; just as he was about to unlock the manacles, he heard a slight noise behind him and looked out of the tail of his eye to be horrified by the near proximity of one of his superior officers; instantly, he changed his attitude toward Manuello, dropped the key, and pointed his Mauser rifle straight at the heart of his prisoner.
"Ye will ... will yees?" he cried out. "Oi'll see about that, ye Spalpeen! Shtand shtill unless ye want a bullet in yer gullet! Now, Sir," he said politely to the officer, "ef ye'll be ahfter clicking the other bracelet on his right wrist whilst I kape him covered, Oi'll be much obleeged to ye. He's a nasty customer, Sir," he explained, kindly, "and Oi've been havin' a rough toime wid 'em."
The Spanish officer stepped gingerly up to the prisoner, seized hold of the manacled wrist and reached for the other uplifted hand; but Manuello had had enough of their society and proceeded to rid himself of it by striking at the officer with his left wrist while he made a grab at the rifle of the Irishman with his right hand; the young Cuban was wiry and his muscles were like taut steel; the officer went down like an ox before the slaughterer but the Irishman discharged his gun regardless of the aim which had been destroyed by the action of the living target; the result was disastrous to all parties for Manuello felt a sharp, stinging pain in one of his legs, but, in spite of this, he clubbed the rifle and brought it down over the skull of the Spanish soldier, limping away, again a conqueror, but sorely wounded, for the bullet had passed clear through the injured limb, tearing through the flesh and bone as is the manner of the long and slender Mauser missile.
In this emergency, the young fellow, knowing that he would be hunted after the last encounter, not only because of the crime of which he had tacitly been accused by the soldier but because he had struck down a Spanish officer, and realizing that, with the manacles still locked upon his wrist, he was a marked man, bethought him of a deserted hut far back among the palms that grew all over the Island in tropical profusion; if he could but reach this hut, he thought, and first apprise Tessa of his new mishap, he might hide there while he recovered from his wound which was beginning to give him great pain as it recovered from its first numbness.
Walking as erectly as he could under the circumstances and keeping his left wrist well covered by the wide cuff of his jacket-sleeve, he was proceeding along the familiar street, when he met the girl he was in search of, strolling placidly along, little dreaming of the imminent peril in which he had just been placed, for the discharge of the Mauser rifle had been almost as silent as smokeless; telling her in a few hurried sentences of his great need and describing to her the location of the ruined hut he had in mind, Manuello retired from the scene.
Tessa was very much distressed as to the condition of Manuello and, feeling that he depended upon her alone, cast about in her mind as to how she could assist him; to begin with, she was anxious about the heavy handcuffs hanging to his poor wrist, as she put it in her gentle thoughts of the man whom she suspected of being a murderer; if, however, the charge against him were true, she felt that the crime was committed in the heat of a jealous passion, and being what she was, herself, she excused it for that reason, for a Cuban girl is apt to love as madly and as unreasonably as any man ... to her, Manuello was almost a demi-god ... it had been a hard trial for the little woman to give him up to Estrella, even, and, now that he was in dire need and the girl of his first choice had deliberately deserted him, it seemed to her as if she had the right to let her own wild love guide her in all that she did with regard to him.
She was slowly retracing her steps to her own home with the intention of getting some supplies and managing to evade the vigilance of the rest of her family sufficiently to carry them to the man she loved ... her eyes were directed to the path along which she walked, idly, yet, all at once, those dark eyes lighted up with sudden joy and she hastily swooped down, like a fluffy little bird upon a morsel of food, and took into her hand a small and intricate-patterned key; she hoped that this was the key that would unlock the hated manacles from Manuello's wrist and, regarding this as a good omen, she concealed the little deliverer in her bosom, tying it in the corner of the kerchief that was crossed upon her breast.
When Tessa had secured what necessities she found available on the spur of the moment, she at once concealed them as far as possible and prepared to ascend the side of the hill toward the ruined hut where Manuello had directed her to come; her heart was fluttering wildly for this was her first secret mission, as she had always had someone near her during her short life on earth: she wound her way among the cactus plants that covered the ground in almost all directions, with an unerring instinct that was of more value to her than any education could have been for the moment, for one unaccustomed to the wild cacti in Cuba might, easily, become bewildered, as it is necessary to walk almost in circles among the thick clumps of prickly foliage.
Tessa was young, but the women of Cuba, like those of most tropical countries, mature early in life, and she already had the strong maternal instinct that is a part of normal womanhood; this instinct now directed her to watch over Manuello as if he were, indeed, her child, instead of the man to whom she had given the first wild love of her fiery nature; for women are made that way ... no matter what their own body may demand of them, it is as natural for them to put all personal feeling aside and allow a higher, more unselfish love to rule them entirely, as it is for a man to, first gratify his own desires, and, then, if so be he can without inconvenience to himself in any way, minister to the wants of the woman in the case, all well and good, but if, on the contrary, to care for the woman would, in any way, cause him to exercise self-control and self-sacrifice, why, of course, he seeks another woman as soon as he can well rid himself of the one who has flouted him; I am now speaking of the general run of men ... there are exceptions to this rule, of course, just as there are exceptions to the rule just stated regarding women ... not all women are as little Tessa was, but most of them are and it is indeed fortunate for the world of men and women that this is as it is ... wonderful beyond the ways of human beings is the love of a pure woman ... wonderful and worthy of the highest respect and devotion of any man is the almost angelic love that women often bestow on most unworthy objects.
It was so in this case, for, while the girl was winding among the cacti that hindered her advance up the hill, the man was lying in a miserable heap in the corner of the deserted hut, cursing not only his own hard luck, but even the girl on whom he depended for sustenance and care; with maledictions on his tongue and the heavy manacles on his wrist, and with the increasing pain and torment of his undressed wound, the poor fellow was far from appearing much as had the gay peasant who had congratulated himself on having escaped from prison, and, at the same time, having rid himself of his rival in the affections of Estrella, who, now, seemed lost to him.
When the girl reached the ruined hut she found the object of her loving care under the circumstances described above, and it took all of her courage to face the situation alone and unaided by surgical skill for they both realized that discovery would be almost certain to be fatal to the man who now lay groaning and cursing by turns, even while his ministering angel in human form knelt at his side and unlocked the handcuffs from his wrist, for, luckily, she had happened upon the very means of deliverance from the manacles for which they had both longed; then Tessa gathered dead palm branches with which she fashioned a rude bed for the sufferer, after which she raised his head upon a small pillow which she had thoughtfully brought with her, for she was a sturdy little peasant and could act as a beast of burden without harm to herself; having fixed him up as comfortably as she could, under the hard circumstances, she insisted upon his eating and drinking some of the refreshments she had carried up the hill for him; she had used what skill she had in bathing and binding the wounded leg, and, as the bullet had gone clear through, there was little else to do so far as that was concerned; then they began to consult as to what method of procedure would be best for them to take; in this, of course, Manuello thought only of himself, as was natural to a man of his type, while little Tessa, as was also natural to one of her trusting and loving disposition, also thought only of his comfort and safety.
"I must come to you each day until the wound heals, my dear Friend," said the earnest little woman. "I must bring you what you will need and I must be very careful not to be detected in doing this. I wish ..." she ended, earnestly, "I wish that dear Estrella could come and see you for it would do you more good than anything that I can do for you."
"You are a darling little girl, Tessa," said her turbulent patient. "You ought to satisfy any reasonable man; Estrella don't care anything at all about me, and I am beginning to think that I can get along without her as long as I can have you."
The adoring look in his dark eyes as he said these words was like manna in the wilderness to little Tessa, for she could not help being pleased to think that, after all, maybe Manuello would fix his affections upon her small person, since Estrella had so often flouted him and shown him plainly by her great preference for Victorio that she did not love him; the name she had just used in her thoughts brought up the hateful suspicion aroused in her by the remarks of the Irishman who had seemed, at first glance, to be a Spaniard, but who, as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, proved his nationality beyond the shadow of a doubt.
But the loving girl put her thought aside almost at once ... she did not wish to believe the suspicion to be true and she did not intend to believe it—until she had to, if such a sad time could ever come to her; just at present all the strength of her being was concentrated upon the desire to aid Manuello in whatever manner she could.
To further this desire, she arranged a signal whereby he might know that she was coming up the hill and concealed, as well as she could the approach to the hiding-place as well as the hut itself, by throwing, in apparent disorder, as if blown by a strong wind, such branches and twigs as she could find by a hurried search.
She did not stay any longer than she thought was necessary for the comfort of her patient for she was determined to continue her care of him if possible and realized that a prolonged absence from her own home might bring suspicion upon them both; as she was leaving, she looked pitifully weak and small to cope with such a complicated situation alone; even Manuello realized, for a moment, the devotion of the girl, and called her over to his side to say a word or two at parting.
"Dear little Tessa," he began, "this is going to be a hard task that you have undertaken. I wonder if I am worth all this trouble. Perhaps you would just better turn me over to the soldiers and let them work their will on me; it may be that I will never be able to reward you for all your care; of course, it may, on the other hand, be possible for me to offer you help and comfort when you, yourself, may be in need of it. Now that you have freed me from those shackles, I begin to feel my old strength and courage coming back, and if I ever am again as I was before this last mishap, I will surely reward you somehow for all this sacrifice that you are making for me."
This speech, coming from a man in the condition of Manuello, appealed to the little woman so forcibly that she knelt beside his rude couch and laid both her small, dark hands on his brow as she looked deeply into his eyes; this position, being very favorable to the impulse that came over the man as he lay there, made it easy for him to draw her head, with its great mass of black hair, down upon his shoulder; as her cheek was laid against his own, Manuello held her small face closely with both his hands while he kissed first her trembling lips, then each of her eye-lids, for she had closed her eyes in a sort of blind ecstasy, then her low forehead, then the top of her small head and, finally, her quivering chin.
The impulse that prompted him to give these welcome caresses lasted only a moment for the pain in his leg was beginning to be very insistent and a groan of agony took the place of the loving words that had been upon his eager tongue during the moment when he forgot his wound, but the effect of those few wild moments of unbridled passion went with the little woman down the hill and covered her small body with a delicious glow that took away much of the terror and apprehension with which she viewed the situation in which she found herself.
Ruth Wakefield found Estrella to be much more of a companion than she had thought she would, and found that, in the innocence and naturally responsive disposition of the girl, she could almost forget the tie that had brought them together; had the girl suspected the truth as to Victorio's relations with the mistress of the mansion on the hill, the situation might have been strained or even acute, but, as it was, Ruth only pitied, while she almost envied, the sorrow of the sweetheart of her own husband.
On the morning when Manuello had discovered the where-abouts of Estrella, the two women had been watching for Father Felix, intending to consult with him concerning something that they both wished to do and yet were not sure of the wisdom of; when he came, they both waited, anxiously, for his first words, for they depended upon them for enlightenment regarding a question in which they were both much interested.
"Miss Ruth and Estrella," he began, addressing both women, "I have great news for you but we must be cautious in discussing what I have to impart to you; if, through our carelessness, the information I am about to give you, should miscarry, it might mean almost as great a disaster as the recent explosion in Havana Harbor. We must be sure that we are not overheard. I think we would better repair to the library, Miss Ruth, if that would meet with your approval. I think we would be more secure from eaves-droppers inside the house than here. I just met Manuello, my Dear," he said speaking to Estrella, "as I came up the path. I do not like to have him lurking around your dwelling-place. I am sure that he is in some sort of hiding from the authorities and I dread to have him near you, for he has an evil look in his eyes, lately. Be very careful, my Daughter, as you go about the place or into the village ... it might even be well for you to remain away from your former home for some time to come. I can carry any news of you that will be necessary for them to know or do any little errands that you may think should be done. By-the-way," he ended, turning his attention, once more, to Ruth, "I met your old nurse hurrying along down toward the village as if in great haste; as she does not often walk down the hill I noticed the circumstances."
"Old Mage!" exclaimed Ruth. "Why, I did not know that she had gone out. Do you know anything of this, Estrella? Did she tell you that she had work to do in the village? Was there something that had to be secured for the larder, at once, that would not brook delay? Dear me, I hope she will not over-tire herself. She is not very strong any more and I try to have her, always, take very good care of herself. As you may know, good Father," she went on, "old Mage is almost the only living human friend on whom I can rely and her fealty to me is beyond question. If I should find old Mage untrue to me," she declared, "I would not expect the sun to rise the following morning. I must look into this, and, if you will excuse me for a few moments, I will do so at once."
"Now, my Daughter," said the Priest when Estrella and he were left alone, "I wish to say to you, privately, that you must, from this time on, avoid meeting Manuello in any way, both for yourself and also for the well-being of your good friend, Miss Ruth; the fellow is evil-minded, lately, and I believe would not stop at robbery or even, though I greatly regret to think so,murder," he uttered the dreadful word softly but emphatically, "if he believed that he would benefit by either crime and I must urge you not to allow him to come here to see you under any possible circumstances. As I said before, I can do what must be done as between your former family and yourself."
Estrella gladly acquiesced in this good judgment of Father Felix and agreed to do all in her power to avoid meeting Manuello which she had no desire, personally, to do, as she dreaded his protestations of love as much as she would have dreaded his anger for any other reason in the common affairs of daily life.
In a short time, Ruth returned, explaining that old Mage had, indeed, gone down to the village, though for what purpose she had been unable, so far, to discover: they, then, repaired to the library and carefully closed all doors and windows before Father Felix began to tell them what they were so anxious to hear.
"My dear Friends," he began, "the information that I have to impart to you is of a very delicate as well as secret nature and must be so regarded by both of you. Estrella, to you, especially, I wish to say that you must not, under any circumstances, breathe a single word of what I will say to you for it is of vital importance to the native land, as I believe, of all three of us. For I have reason to think that you, as well as Miss Ruth and myself, are an American. I know that all of your sympathies are with our native land, at least, and, in trusting you with this information, I am, in a measure, making you one of us in deed and in truth, whether you are so by reason of your birth or not. Before I go any further, I want your assurance of what I believe to be true."
He waited a moment for the girl to speak, then, seeing her evident embarrassment, he added, kindly:
"You need have no fear of either of us, Estrella. If you have friends in this wide world, you are with two of them at this moment."
At these earnest words, the expression of the girl's face changed somewhat and she replied to the implied interrogatory of the Priest:
"I, also, believe that I am an American, although I do not know anything of my own parentage beyond what my foster parents have told me. I do not even know," she blushed while she made the statement, "whether my father and mother had been married before my birth.... I have no means of finding out anything more of myself than that I am an honest girl and that I am deeply grateful to both you and Miss Ruth for your great kindness to me in my great sorrow. As far as my fealty to America is concerned," she ended, proudly, "I am as true to that great country as anyone who knows himself to be a citizen of it. I would, gladly, lay my feeble life upon the altar of what I believe to be my native land ... the United States of America."
She pronounced the words with reverence and bowed her head as if in prayer, so that Father Felix no longer hesitated, but proceeded, at once:
"At this moment, an American squadron is in Asiatic waters, ready to move, at the moment its Commander receives the cablegram from the President of our own country, against the Spaniard, almost on his own territory. By this move it is hoped to so cripple him that we, here, in Cuba, may, with the help of our soldiers and sailors, conquer and drive from the Island those who have so long usurped the places of great power among us."
When the good Priest had pronounced these fateful words, he found his two auditors sitting erect, as if at attention, with hands folded in their laps, and eyes fixed upon his face in breathless eagerness. Ruth was the first to break the silence.
"I pray the good God," she said, softly and reverently, "I pray God to strengthen the hands of those who are to do this great, good work! I trust that those who will be engaged in battle may be prepared to meet their Maker with clean hearts, if with bloody hands. War," she cried, suddenly, losing her attitude of prayer in the violence of her emotions, "war is a terrible calamity but it seems that, only through war can a nation be purged of such foul crimes as have been committed right here in Cuba."
Estrella watched her with flashing eyes and sympathetic expression and the good Priest crossed himself and clenched his fists at the same time, for, had occasion required such action at his hands, it was evident that Father Felix could have changed from the spiritual guide to the fiery enthusiast willing to take his place among the fighting men who would defend what he believed to be a sacred cause.
"Now, Father Felix," demanded the practical side of Ruth Wakefield, "what action can we take in this matter to help the good cause? Is there not some preparation that we can make to welcome our soldiers to Cuba, for, of course," she lifted her head, proudly, "our boys will win whatever conflict they may become engaged in ... it is only a question as to how many of them may be injured or even killed in the terrible encounter. Every man in America," said this American woman, "is a soldier if he is needed in that capacity, for every American, man, woman or child, is apatriot... devoted to the sacred traditions and splendid example of those who followedGeorge Washingtonto victory over those who had oppressed and insulted them."
"My Daughters," said Father Felix, rising, "I must leave you for the present. I will find out what we may do to assist our countrymen and will come again to let you know the result of my search for further information. All we can do, now, is to hold the information I have just given to you inviolate and prepare ourselves, spiritually, to meet whatever emergency may arise. My Daughters," he ended, stretching out his hands in blessing over their bowed heads, "we shall have work to do and we will do it with our might. May God, in His great Mercy, guide us into the path in which He intended us to walk."
On the day of Manuello's search for the girl he had so madly and hopelessly loved, old Mage made a surreptitious visit to the little cemetery in San Domingo where she had seen the body of Victorio Colenzo laid away in its final resting-place; she went among the new-made graves, of which there were a goodly number for so small a graveyard, until she found the one she sought: she stopped, then, took the dried leaves from the top of her large basket, removed a beautiful bunch of roses, tied, carefully, with a broad blue ribbon, and laid them, softly, upon the top of the mound of fresh earth; after having done this, she took a small object wrapped in tissue paper, from the very bottom of the basket, dug a small hole under the roses and buried it, covering it carefully, packing the ground over it, at first, and, then putting loose earth over the top of the miniature grave, so as to conceal its existence as much as possible, she again laid the roses carelessly over the spot.
Having performed this little ceremony, old Mage looked down at her handiwork and said, apparently addressing herself, as no other human being was in sight at the time:
"There!NowI hope that she will forget all about him ... she will think that she has mislaid the ring ... I had a hard time to get hold of it. I hope that it will never come to life again any more than him ... let them both lay there together. You lying pup, you!" she cried, shaking her trembling old fist at the grave. "Youlaythere and don't you ever try to come near my dear young Lady again! Theideaof an ignorant thing like you ever daring to come near her, anyway. I wouldn't be so darned mad at you," she ended, "for you were a mighty good-looking fellow and any woman might have been proud of your appearance, once she could overlook your dark skin, but you even fooledme, doggone you! Youlaythere, now, and never do you dare to try to fool any more women ... three of us is enough inthisneighborhood, anyway."
She drew a long sigh of relief after this speech and hurried out of the cemetery with her empty basket; she had slipped away when she thought no one was observing her and intended to tell Ruth after her return what she had done with the exception of any reference to the ring which, as the reader may have guessed, was the wedding ring that Ruth had, up to this time, kept always on her left hand or in her jewel-case on her little dressing-table before which she always sat when she combed and brushed her long and beautifully luxuriant brown hair; she had taken the ring off the night before, little dreaming that she was touching it for the last time, and sadly laid it among her jewels, thinking of the bright face and laughing dark eyes that had looked so handsome to her when he had put that little ring upon her finger, whispering of his undying love and of the fact that she and she alone was, and had been since his first meeting with her, the entire mistress of his hither-to untouched heart; she had even shed a few tears over the little ring, then, and old Mage, silently witnessing this fact, determined that she should never again have that opportunity; so, after Ruth was sweetly sleeping, the old woman slipped into her room and removed the object of her scorn; she lay awake almost all of that night, planning how to secrete or do away with the visible bond that had united her dear young Lady to an unworthy mate; at length, toward daylight, it seemed to old Mage as if someone had whispered to her what to do with the ring so that poetic justice would be done to the first youthful passion of Ruth Wakefield's innocent life; acting upon this suggestion, for so it seemed to her, feeling sure that she had solved the problem so nearly affecting the life of the one she loved best in all her world, she carried out the plan she instantly formed, and, while she was a very weary old woman, from lack of sleep and unusual exercise, when she again reached her much-loved home, she had within her spirit a sense of satisfaction that was beyond anything she had felt since Ruth had married the man whose grave she had, that morning, visited; she felt, in some sense, to blame for the marriage, as she had not strenuously opposed it, and found herself much in the position she used to occupy when Ruth had been a little tot and she had allowed her to do some small thing of which she knew her parents would not approve.
Now, she felt relieved because, as it seemed to her, she had sort of evened up matters, and, after informing Ruth that she had gone to the grave and put the roses there, she never intended to speak of Victorio Colenzo again, and, as far as possible, she intended to rid Ruth of his memory; with this thought in mind, she picked up many little memontos of him which she found lying about the place ... a guitar here and a ribbon there ... a photograph, perhaps, showing the dashing young Cuban in military dress, which much became him, or mounted on a fine horse which he, for the moment, had secured the use of ... even in one picture he appeared standing, proudly, behind Ruth as if protecting her; all of these and anything else that old Mage could find that would inevitably remind Ruth of the man she had married, she destroyed ruthlessly and with inward glee; her object in all this was, really, to protect her dear young Lady, and, yet, at the same time, she had as nearly a fiendish delight as it was possible for her ever to entertain, in, as she naïvely put it to herself, "getting even" with the handsome fellow who had "pulled the wool over" her own eyes as well as the brighter and stronger ones of her young Lady.
Ruth Wakefield was never enlightened as to this little by-play, but she reaped the benefits of it in many ways, for it is true that visible reminders are necessary to a great many people, and, even the strongest minds are affected by the sudden sight of something reminding them of some object formerly dear to them; it will give almost anyone a start to come, unexpectedly, upon a picture or almost any tangible token of someone once dear, no matter what may have happened to take away that quality; lovers, by preserving evidence, like withered flowers, pictures, songs and poems, often lay up for themselves future agony of spirit ... the objects that are so dear to them may turn about and rend their inmost souls; full many times, it were better had the love-tokens been destroyed in some such way as old Mage did away with the visible memories attached to the objects which her eager hands closed upon; this secret employment, necessarily long drawn out, as she did not wish to be discovered in her labor of love, took up a good deal of the extra time she found herself in possession of on account of the presence of Estrella in the home, for the girl took up many household duties, gladly and naturally, knowing that in work she could, to some extent, forget her own sorrow, and wishing to lighten the labors of old Mage who was always kind to her.
After the information imparted to Ruth by Father Felix, regarding national affairs, she was very thoughtful and very busy, for there were very many ways in which she could make preparations to begin the duties which she expected to take up as soon as occasion would require them of her; she studied into trained nursing and found a sort of school in Havana to which she took Estrella and where they both learned many essential things pertaining to the calling which they were both trying to fit themselves for; in many ways they were both better prepared for the work of caring for the sick and wounded than many women would ever become, no matter how much they would be trained, for they were both earnest and helpful, tender-hearted and serious; in all wars, there are women who seek the familiar association with men which the calling of a nurse entails, with no better object than just the proximity to masculine humanity involved, but there are, also, such women as Ruth Wakefield who had no thought in the matter except to help where help of her should anywhere be needed ... to succor those who were not to blame for the accidents that had befallen them ... who were, indeed, entitled to the tenderest consideration on account of the very accidents which had laid them on the clean, white cots that are stretched along the wards and in the private rooms of the great, shadowy hospitals where tender women bend above the beds of pain and minister to those who lie there, suffering and weak, both in body and spirit.
On one of these numerous visits to Havana, Ruth met a man who was an old friend of her father's who was much interested in her lonely life and who came out to her home to consult with her regarding the prospects of her being surrounded by the din and pomp of actual warfare; at first, as he viewed the situation she was placed in, he felt as Father Felix had as to her staying in Cuba, in her immediate future, but listened to her patriotic resolve with high enthusiasm, as he was intensely patriotic himself and loved to think that she was every inch an American although her life had, almost all of it, been spent away from her native land.
Just as this man was leaving her home, one day, for he had been making frequent visits there, he turned to look at her as she stood between the pillar-like gate-posts at the entrance to the drive that led to her residence; the picture she made, standing there in the glow of the setting sun, lingered in his memory long after he had ceased to see her as he saw her, then; Ruth was very fond of flowers and often wore a rose tucked in among the coils of her beautiful, shining hair; that evening, her selection among her flowers for this use had been a bunch of English violets; the deep blue of the dainty blossoms accentuated the clear gray color of her star-like eyes ... her healthy skin reflected the sunset after-glow which was beginning to appear in the western sky; her small mouth, with its cute corners, puckered up as if, she used to say when a child, it had been too large to begin with and had been shirred at the corners to make it the desired size, registered each change of her inner feelings; her dress was elegant, yet simple, and her poise was splendid; there are few earthly women who have sufficient poise of manner and of nervous strength; most of them become excited and distraught under slight stress of circumstances, but Ruth Wakefield was an exception to this very general rule; there were very few things that could shake her from her serenity of purpose and intention; one of these things was being a witness to any injustice ... an indignity put upon a weaker creature by a stronger one, whether the creature be gifted with the power to express its feelings in human speech or not; those who knew her best, were well aware of her strong regard for the rights of so-called "dumb animals" ... her loving sympathy went out to every old or poorly cared for horse she saw; she had been heard to say that she would dearly love to have a good pasture, with waving grasses and running water and sheltering trees where she could gather together all the illy-used horses in the world and then just watch them enjoy their surroundings; the smaller creatures, also, were her friends ... little Tid-i-wats, to whom we have already been introduced, was a feline of very uncertain temper and most impulsive and nerve-racking little habits, yet to Ruth she could always go and be sure of a loving reception no matter to what lengths she had gone, for Tid-i-wats was far from being a perfect little cat; she very often reverted to her original type and did things that no cat with a civilized ancestry would have even thought couldbedone; but she knew that Ruth would only say:
"She is not feeling very well, today; she is beginning to show her years a little; I noticed a white hair only today, on her little neck; she is my own old baby-cat, anyway, and I will always take as good care of her as I possibly can."
She would watch Ruth, calmly, while she straightened out whatever she, her own self, had made it necessary to straighten, and, then, when the young woman would, finally, sit down, no matter where Tid-i-wats happened to be located at the time, she would very soon land on Ruth's lap with no fear of a scolding even; she took advantage of the gentle disposition of her care-taker, same as so many humans did.
Ruth's father's friend looked long and earnestly at the tall, straight, slender figure standing there at the entrance to her almost palatial home and the picture remained in his memory during the balance of his earthly life.
While Ruth Wakefield and Estrella were preparing themselves to assist their fellow-countrymen in case they should be needed, events were shaping themselves so that it seemed likely that Cuba would be the stage for the setting of as heroic a play as the world had ever witnessed: Commodore Dewey had bottled up the Spanish fleet in Manila Bay and Naval-Constructor Richmond P. Hobson had executed his daring and unheard-of feat although the gallantMerrimacwas sunk in Santiago harbor.
Soon after the formal declaration of war on April 25, 1898, President McKinley sent forth a call for volunteers to enter the United States army and navy. Instantly, almost, the ranks were more than filled with active, alert, capable men, anxious, each one of them, to do his full share of the work that lay before his beloved land.
It was while active preparations for a war carried on in the interests of humanity were progressing rapidly that Theodore Roosevelt became prominent as representing the highest type of American manhood; he threw himself, bodily, into the breach in the interests of his country; there was no personal sacrifice which he was unwilling to make ... no task too hard for him to attempt. He became, at once, an acknowledged and adored leader of the young Americans who crowded around him, loving him like a brother, and, at the same time, revering his quick judgment and his dauntless courage.
There is no figure in American history more heroic or more admired than that of Theodore Roosevelt, mounted on a noble horse, in the uniform of a United States Volunteer and wearing a wide campaign hat.
Ruth Wakefield was kept well informed as to what was being done by her own people, mainly through the kindness of Father Felix who seldom missed an evening's visit with her and her almost constant companion, Estrella; the two girls, for they were no more than that in spite of what they had passed through, had become the best of understanding friends; the younger girl seldom spoke of her dead lover and Ruth found that the memory of her husband had been forced into the background of her thoughts by the march of passing events.
One evening, Father Felix climbed the narrow pathway to the mansion on the hill and found Ruth alone as Estrella, who was her almost constant companion, now, had gone to the village on one of her infrequent visits to her little friend, Tessa.
The good Priest was glad to find Ruth alone as he had news of great importance for her ... news that would lead to great developments in the near future; after being assured of their entire privacy, he said:
"We will have work to do, my dear Daughter, before many more months have passed by. The American people have endured the sight of the injustice and oppression exercised by the Spanish authorities toward the helpless Cubans for a long time, now, and are becoming more and more determined to break the Spanish rule. You and I must be prepared to assist and succor our own dear boys when they begin to smite the enemy of right and justice, hip and thigh. My course in this work has been made plain before me.... I have applied for the position of Chaplain in the United States service and I trust that they will allow me to accompany my little flock right into the midst of every battle in which they will be engaged. It seems to me that your path in this matter, my Daughter, is, also, plain ... you can turn this charming home into a hospital to which the sorely wounded or those who have fallen ill from any cause may be brought and where they may receive the tender care which they will deserve from every loyal heart and hand. I am certain that you will find work for Estrella as well as for every member of your family, here, in this connection, also you will be ably assisted by many who will flock to your standard when they understand what you are doing. I, myself, will always assist you in every way in my power and I may be able to spare you some uncertainty and, possibly, also, some unpleasantness. My Daughter," he ended, "there will be work for us to do that will require all our strength and courage.... May God, in His great Wisdom, guide and help us."
Ruth clasped her hands and bowed her head as Father Felix prayed for God's blessing on whatever enterprise they should be called upon to undertake in the great cause in which they were both enlisted.
After the good Priest had disappeared down the narrow path that led to the little village of San Domingo, she sat, for a long time, in deep revery, reflecting on the peace and prosperity that then covered the tropical Island upon which she had lived for so many years and trying to imagine what changes were likely to come in the wake of the probable conflict of two great nations, for Ruth realized that America was meeting a foe worthy of her steel in Spain whose far-famed Armada had been made the subject of song and story; she had no doubt of the final outcome ... whatever America attempted, that she would accomplish ... but how many splendid American men would have to lie upon the bloody battle-fields that would spring up all around her was yet an unsolved problem; and that, she thought, proudly and devotedly, would be her work ... to find those splendid American heroes, and to do for them as much as if each one of them had been her own blood brother ... to succor the wounded and bury the dead.
This line of thought led her, inevitably, to the grave already lying under the moonlight so near to her home, and, upon a sudden and almost irresistable impulse, she snatched a wrap from the rack in the hall and started down toward the little cemetery, thinking to bid an eternal farewell to the grave of the man who had been, if only for a few short months, her husband.