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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rita, by Laura E. Richards
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Rita
+
+Author: Laura E. Richards
+
+Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry
+
+Release Date: March 14, 2008 [EBook #24827]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RITA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+RITA
+
+
+
+
+        BOOKS FOR GIRLS
+        By Laura E. Richards
+
+        _The_ MARGARET SERIES
+
+        Three Margarets
+        Margaret Montfort
+        Peggy
+        Rita
+        Fernley House
+
+
+        _The_ HILDEGARDE SERIES
+
+        Queen Hildegarde
+        Hildegarde's Holiday
+        Hildegarde's Home
+        Hildegarde's Neighbors
+        Hildegarde's Harvest
+
+
+        DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+        Publishers
+        Estes Press, Summer St., Boston
+
+
+[Illustration: "RITA MONTFORT DREW HER DAGGER AND WAITED."]
+
+
+
+
+RITA
+
+BY
+
+LAURA E. RICHARDS
+
+AUTHOR OF
+
+        "PEGGY," "MARGARET MONTFORT," "THREE
+        MARGARETS," ETC.
+
+        Illustrated by
+        ETHELDRED B. BARRY
+
+[Illustration]
+
+        BOSTON
+        DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+        PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+        _Copyright, 1900_
+        BY DANA ESTES& COMPANY
+
+
+        Colonial Press
+        Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
+        Boston, Mass., U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+                  TO
+
+          FIVE GIRLS I KNOW
+
+        IN THE TOWN OF SAINT JO
+
+        If this story should seem extravagant to any of
+        my readers, I can only refer them to some one
+        of the many published accounts of the
+        Spanish-American War. They will find that many
+        delicate and tenderly nurtured girls were
+        forced to endure dangers and privations
+        compared to which Rita's adventures seem like
+        child's play.
+
+                                             L. E. R.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+        CHAPTER                            PAGE
+           I. THREATENING WEATHER            11
+          II. THE STORM BURSTS               23
+         III. ON THE WAY                     33
+          IV. THE CAMP AMONG THE HILLS       54
+           V. TO MARGARET                    77
+          VI. IN THE NIGHT                   93
+         VII. CAMP SCENE                    110
+        VIII. THE PACIFICOS                 130
+          IX. IN HIDING                     142
+           X. MANUELA'S OPPORTUNITY         163
+          XI. CAPTAIN JACK                  176
+         XII. FOR LIFE                      190
+        XIII. MEETINGS AND GREETINGS        200
+         XIV. ANOTHER CAMP                  216
+          XV. A FOREGONE CONCLUSION         233
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+
+                                                    PAGE
+
+  "RITA MONTFORT DREW HER DAGGER AND WAITED"     _Frontispiece_
+
+  IN THE GARDEN                                       21
+
+  "THE FAMISHED CHILD LOOKED FROM THE BISCUIT TO
+      THE GLOWING FACE"                               43
+
+  "'HUSH!' SAID THE YOUNG GIRL. 'SIT STILL'"         104
+
+  "'WAS SUCH A HAT EVER SEEN IN PARIS?'"             147
+
+  "'I THROW OPEN THE DOOR AND STEP BACK, MY HEART
+      IN MY MOUTH'"                                  172
+
+  "NOW AGAIN IT WAS A RIDE FOR LIFE"                 205
+
+  "THE PATIENTS IDOLISE HER"                         237
+
+
+
+
+RITA.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THREATENING WEATHER.
+
+
+TO SENOR,
+
+        _Senor the illustrious Don John Montfort._
+
+_Honoured Senor and Brother:_--There are several months that I wrote to
+inform you of the deeply deplored death of my lamented husband, Senor
+Don Richard Montfort. Your letter of condolation and advice was balm
+poured upon my bleeding wounds, received before yesterday at the hands
+of my banker, Don Miguel Pietoso. You are the brother of my adored
+husband, your words are as if spoken from his casket. You tell me, stay
+at home, remain in quietness, till these alarms of war are over. Alas!
+respectable senor, to accomplish this? Havana is since the shocking
+affair of the _Maine_ in uproar; on each side are threats, are cries,
+"Death to the Americanos!" My bewept angel, Don Richard, was in his
+heart Spanish, by birth American; I see brows black upon me--me, a
+Castilian!--when I go from my house. Already they speak of to burn the
+houses of wealthy Americans, to drive forth those dwelling in.
+
+Again, senor, my daughter, your niece Margarita--what to do, I ask you,
+of this young person? She is Cuban, she is fanatic, she is impossible. I
+apply myself to instruct her as her station and fortune demand, as
+befits a Spanish lady of rank; she insubordinates me, she makes mockery
+of my position as head of her house. She teach her parrot to cry "Viva
+Cuba Libre!" She play at open windows her guitar, songs of Cuban rebels,
+forbidden by the authorities. I exert my power, I exhort, I
+command,--she laughs me at the nose, and sings more loud. I attend that
+in few days we are all the two in prison. What to do? you already know
+that her betrothed, Senor Santillo de Santayana, is dead a year ago of a
+calenture. Her grief was excessive; she intended to die, and made
+preparation costing large sums of money for her obsequies. She forget
+all now, she says, for her country. In this alarming time, the freedom
+her father permitted her (his extreme philanthropy overcoming his
+judgmatism) becomes impossible. I implore you, highly honoured senor and
+brother, to write your commands to this unhappy child, that she submit
+herself to me, her guardian in nature, until you can assert your legal
+potencies. I intend shortly to make retreat in the holy convent of the
+White Sisters, few miles from here. Rita accompanionates me, and I trust
+there to change the spirit of rebellion so shocking in a young person
+unmarried, into the soul docile and sheep-like as becomes a highly
+native Spanish maiden. The Sisters are of justice celebrated for their
+pious austerities and the firmness of their rule. Rita will remain with
+them until peace is assured, or until your emissaries apport distinct
+advice.
+
+For me, your kind and gracious inquiries would have watered my heart
+were it not already blasted. Desolation must attend my remaining years;
+but through them all I shall be, dear senor and brother, your most
+grateful and in affliction devoted sister and servant,
+
+                               MARIA CONCEPCION DE NARAGUA MONTFORT.
+  _Havana, April 30, 1898._
+
+
+DEAREST, DEAREST UNCLE:--My stepmother says she has written to you
+concerning me. I implore you, as you loved your brother, my sainted
+father, to believe no single word she says. This woman is of a
+duplicity, a falseness, impossible for your lofty soul to comprehend.
+It needs a Cuban, my uncle, to understand a Spaniard. She wants to take
+me to the convent, to those terrible White Sisters, who will shave my
+head and lacerate my flesh with heated scourges,--Manuela has told me
+about them; scourges of iron chains knotted and made hot,--me, a
+Protestant, daughter of a free American. Uncle John, it is my corpse
+alone that she will carry there, understand that! Never will I go alive.
+I have daggers; here on my wall are many of them, beautifully arranged;
+I polish them daily, it is my one mournful pleasure; they are sharp as
+lightning, and their lustre dazzles the eye. I have poison also; a drop,
+and the daughter of your brother is white and cold at the feet of her
+murderess. Enough! she will be avenged. Carlos Montfort lives; and you,
+too, I know it, I feel it, would spring, would leap across the sea to
+avenge your Rita, who fondly loves you. Hear me swear, my uncle, on my
+knees; never, never will I go alive to that place of death, the convent.
+(I pray you to pardon this blot; I spilt the ink, kneeling in passion;
+what would you have?)
+
+                                              Your unhappy
+                                                       RITA.
+
+
+BELOVED MARGUERITE:--I have written to our dear and honoured uncle of
+the perils which surround me. My life, my reason, are at stake. It may
+be that I have but a few weeks more to live. Every day, therefore,
+dearest, let me pour out my soul to you, now my one comfort on earth,
+since my heart was laid in the grave of my Santayana.
+
+It is night; all the house is wrapped in slumber; I alone wake and weep.
+I seldom sleep now, save by fitful snatches. I sit as at this moment, by
+my little table, my taper illuminated, in my peignoir (you would be
+pleased with my peignoir, my poor Marguerite! it is white _mousseline
+d'Inde_, flowing very full from the shoulders, falling in veritable
+clouds about me, with deep ruffles of Valenciennes and bands of
+insertion; the ribbons white, of course; maidens should mourn in white,
+is it not so, Marguerite? no colour has approached me since my
+bereavement; fortunately black and white are both becoming to me, while
+that other, Concepcion, looks like a sick orange in either. Even the
+flowers in my room are solely white.)
+
+It seems a thousand years since I heard from you, my cool snow-pearl of
+cousins. Write more often to your Rita, she implores you. I pine for
+news of you, of Uncle John, of all at dear, dear Fernley. Alas! how
+young I was there! a simple child, sporting among the Northern daisies.
+Now, in the whirlwind of my passionate existence, I look back to that
+peaceful summer. For you, Marguerite, the green oasis, the palm-trees,
+the crystal spring; for me, the sand storm and the fiery death. No
+matter! I live and die a daughter of Cuba, the gold star on my brow,
+the three colours painted on my heart. Good night, beloved! I kiss the
+happy paper that goes to you. Till to-morrow, and while I live,
+
+                                                        Your
+                                                          RITA.
+
+
+                                                HAVANA, May 1, 1898.
+
+Not until afternoon goes the mail steamer, Marguerite, only pearl of my
+heart. I wrote you a few burning words last night; then I flung myself
+on my bed, hoping to lose my sorrows for a few minutes in sleep. I
+slept, a thing hardly known to me at present; it was the sleep of
+exhaustion, Marguerite. When I woke, Manuela was putting back the
+curtains to let in the light of dawn. It is still early morning, fresh
+and dewy, and I am here in the garden. At no time of the day is the
+garden more beautiful than now, in the purity of the day's birth. I have
+described it to you at night, with the _cocuyos_ gleaming like lamps in
+the green dusk of the orange-trees, or the moonlight striking the world
+to silver. I wish you could see it now--this garden of my soul, so soon,
+it may be, to be destroyed by ruthless hands of savage Spaniards. The
+palms stand like stately pillars; till the green plumes wave in the
+morning breeze, one fancies a temple or cathedral, with aisles of
+crowned verdure. Behind these stand the banana-trees, rows and rows,
+with clusters hanging thick, crimson and gold. Would Peggy be happy
+here, do you think? Poor little Peggy! How often I long to cut down a
+tree, to send her whole bunches of the fruit she delights in. The
+mangoes, too! I used to think I could not live without mangoes. When I
+went to you, it appeared that I must die without my fruits; now their
+rich pulp dries untasted by my lips: what have I to do with food, save
+the bare necessary to support what life remains? I am waiting now for my
+coffee; at this moment Manuela brings it, with the grape-fruit and
+rolls, and places it here on the table of green marble, close by the
+fountain where I sit. The fountain soothes my suffering heart, as it
+tinkles in the broad basin of green marble. Nature, Marguerite, speaks
+to the heart of despair. You have not known despair, my best one; may it
+be long, long before you do. Among her other vices, this woman,
+Concepcion, would like to starve me, in my own house. She counts the
+rolls, she knows how many lumps of sugar I put in my coffee; an hour
+will dawn--I say no more! I am patient, Marguerite, I am forbearing, a
+statue, marble in the midst of fire; but beyond a certain point I will
+not endure persecution, and I say to you, let Concepcion Montfort, the
+widow of my sainted father, beware!
+
+[Illustration: IN THE GARDEN.]
+
+Adios, my Magnolia Flower! I must feed my birds. Already they are awake
+and calling the mistress they love. They hang--I have told you--in large
+airy cages, all round under the eaves of the summer-house beside the
+fountain. They are beautiful, Margaret, the Java sparrows, the little
+love-birds, the splendid macaw, the paroquets, and mocking-birds; but
+king among them all is Chiquito, our parrot, Marguerite, yours and mine,
+the one link here that binds me to my Northern home; for I may call
+Fernley my home, Uncle John has said it; the lonely orphan can think of
+one spot where tender hearts beat for her, not passionately, but with
+steadfast pulses. Chico is in superb health; he is--I tell you every
+time--a revelation in the animal kingdom. More than this, he is a bird
+of heart; he feels for me, feels intensely, in this dark time. Only
+yesterday he bit old Julio severely; I am persuaded it was his love for
+me that prompted the act. Julio is a Spaniard of the Spaniards, the
+slave of Concepcion. He attempted to cajole my Chico, he offered him
+sugar. To-day he goes with his arm in a sling, and curses the Cuban
+bird, with threats against his life. Never mind, Marguerite! a time will
+soon come--I can say no more. I am dumb; the grave is less silent; but
+do you think your Rita will submit eternally to tyranny and despotism?
+No, you know she will not, it is not her nature. You look, my best one,
+for some outbreak of my passionate nature, you attend that the volcano
+spring some sudden hour into flame, overwhelming all in its path. You
+are right, heart of my heart. You shall not be disappointed. Rita will
+prove herself worthy of your love. How? hush! ask not, dream not! trust
+me and be silent.
+
+                                      MARGARITA DE SAN REAL MONTFORT.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE STORM BURSTS.
+
+
+GREATLY HONOURED SIR:--I permit myself the privilege of addressing your
+Excellency, my name being known to you as man of business of late your
+admired brother, Senor Don Ricardo Montfort. I find myself, senor, in a
+position of great hardness between the two admirable ladies, Senora
+Montfort, widow of Don Ricardo, and his beautiful daughter, the Senorita
+Margarita. These ladies, admirable, as I have said, in beauty,
+character, and abilities, find it, nevertheless, impossible to live in
+harmony. As man of affairs, I am present at painful scenes, which wring
+the heart. Each cries to me to save her from the other. The senora
+desires to make retreat at the convent of the White Sisters, thrice
+holy and beatified persons, but of a strictness repugnant to the lively
+and ardent spirit of the senorita. Last evening took place a terrible
+enactment, at which I most unluckily assisted. Senora Montfort permitted
+her lofty spirit to assert itself more strongly than her delicate
+corporosity was able to endure, and fell into violent hystericality. Her
+shrieks wanted little of arousing the neighbourhood; the servants became
+appalled and lost their reason. Senorita Margarita maintained her
+calmness, and even refused to consider the senora's condition as
+serious. On the assurance of the young lady and the senora's maid, I was
+obliged to accept the belief that the senora would shortly recover if
+left to herself, and came away in deep grief, leaving that illustrious
+matron--I speak with respect--in fits upon the floor. One would have
+said, a child of six deprived of its toy. Greatly honoured Senor
+Montfort, I am a man no longer young. Having myself no conjugal
+ameliorations, I make no pretence to comprehend the more delicate and
+complex nature of females. I am cut to the heart; the senora scrupled
+not to address me as "Old Fool." Heaven is my witness that I have
+endeavoured of my best lights to smoothen the path for her well-born and
+at present bereaved feet. But what can I do? Neither lady will listen to
+me. The senorita, let me hasten to say, shows me always a tender, I
+might without too great a presumption say a filial, kindness. I held her
+in my arms from the day of her birth, senor; she is the flower of the
+world to me. When she takes me by the hands and says, "Dear old Donito
+Miguelito, let me do as I desire and all will be well!" I have no
+strength to resist her. Had I a house of my own, I would take this
+charming child home with me, to be my daughter while she would; but--a
+bachelor living in two rooms--what would you, senor? it is not
+possible. Deign, I beseech you, to consider this my respectful report,
+and if circumstances are proprietary come to my assistance, or send me
+instructions how to act.
+
+Accept, senor, the assurance of my perfect consideration, and believe me
+
+                              Your obedient, humble servant,
+                                                       MIGUEL PIETOSO.
+
+
+TO THE HONOURABLE SENOR DON JOHN MONTFORT.
+
+_Honoured and dear Brother:_--Since I wrote you last week, things the
+most frightful have happened. Rita's conduct grew more and more violent
+and unruled; in despair, I sent for Don Miguel. This old man, though of
+irreproached character, is of a weakness pitiable to see in one wearing
+the form of mankind. I called upon him to uphold me, and command Rita to
+obey the wife of her father. He had only smooth words for each of us,
+and endeavoured to charm this wretched child, when terror should have
+been his weapon. I leave you to imagine if she was influenced by his
+gentle admonitions. To my face she caressed him, and he responded to her
+caresses. Don Miguel is an old man, eighty years of age, but
+nevertheless my anger, my just anger, rose to a height beyond my power
+of control. I fainted from excess of emotion; I lay as one dead, and no
+heart stirred of my sufferings. Since then I have been in my bed, with
+no power more than has a babe of the cradle. This morning Margarita came
+to me and expressed regret for her conduct, saying that she was willing
+from now to submit herself to my righteous authority. I forgave her,--I
+am a Christian, dear brother, and cannot forget the principles of my
+holy religion,--and we embraced with tears. This evening we go to the
+convent, where I hope to find ease for my soul-wounds and to subdue the
+frightful disposition of my stepdaughter. I feel it my duty to relate
+these occurrences to you, dear and honoured brother, for I feel that I
+may succumb under the weight of my afflictions. We start this evening,
+and Don Miguel will inform you of our departure and safe arrival at the
+holy convent, whither he accompanies us.
+
+Permit me to express, dear brother, the sentiments of exalted
+consideration with which I must ever regard you as next in blood to my
+adored consort, and believe me
+
+                           Your devoted,
+                               MARIA CONCEPCION DE NARAGUA MONTFORT.
+
+
+GREATLY HONOURED AND ILLUSTRIOUS SIR:--Let me entreat you to prepare
+yourself for news of alarming nature. Yesterday evening I was honoured
+by the commands of the Senora Montfort, that I convey her and Senorita
+Margarita to the holy convent of the White Sisters. My age, senor, is
+such that a scene of emotion is infinitely distressing to me, but I
+could not disobey the commands of this illustrious lady, the widow of my
+kindest patron and friend. I went, prepared for tears, for outcries,
+perhaps for violent resistance, for the ardent and high-strung nature of
+my beloved Senorita Margarita is well known to me. Figure to yourself,
+honoured senor, my surprise at finding this charming damsel calm,
+composed, even smiling. She greeted me with her accustomed tenderness; a
+more enchanting personality does not, I am assured, adorn the earth than
+that of this lovely child. She bade me have no alarms for her, that all
+was well, she was reconciled to her lot; indeed, she added that she
+could not now wish things otherwise. Amazed, but also enchanted with her
+docility and sweetness, I gave her an old man's blessing, and my prayers
+that the rigour of the holy Sisters might be softened toward her tender
+and high-spirited youth. She replied that she had no fear of the
+Sisters; that in truth she thought they would give her no trouble of
+any kind. I was ravished with this assurance, having, I may confess it
+to you, senor, dreaded the contact between the senorita and the holy
+Mother, a woman of incredible force and piety. But I must hasten my
+narrative. At seven o'clock last evening two volantes were in readiness
+at the door of the Montfort mansion. The first was driven by the
+senora's own man, the second by Pasquale, a negro devoted since
+childhood to the senorita. The senora would have placed her daughter in
+the first of these vehicles; but no! the senorita sprang lightly into
+the second volante, followed by her maid, a young person, also tenderly
+attached to her. Interposing myself to produce calm, I persuade the
+admirable senora to take the position that etiquette commanded, in the
+first carriage. It is done; I seat myself by her side; procession is
+made. The way to the convent of the White Sisters, senor, is a steep
+and rugged one; on either hand are savage passes, are mountains of
+precipitation. To conceive what happened, how is it possible? When we
+reached the convent gate, the second volante was empty. Assassinated
+with terror, I make demand of Pasquale; he admits that he may have slept
+during the long traject up the hill. He swears that he heard no sound,
+that no word was addressed to him. He calls the saints to witness that
+he is innocent; the saints make no reply, but that is not uncommon. I
+search; I rend the air with my cries; alone silence responds to me. The
+senora is carried fainting into the convent, and I return to Havana, a
+man distracted. I should say that in the carriage was found the long
+mantle in which the senorita had been gracefully attired; to its fold a
+note pinned, addressed me in affectionate terms, begging her dear Donito
+Miguelito not to have fear, that she was going to Don Carlos, her
+brother, and all would be well. Since then is two days, senor, that I
+have not closed the eye. I attend a fit of illness, from grief and
+anxiousness. In duty I intelligence you of this dolorous event, praying
+you not to think me guilty of sin without pardon. I have deputed a
+messenger of trust to scrub thoroughly the country in search of Don
+Carlos, death to await him if he return without news of my beloved
+senorita. He is gone now twelve hours. If it arrive me at any moment the
+tidings, I make instantly to convey them to your Excellency, whether of
+joy or affliction.
+
+Receive, highly honoured senor, the assurance of my consideration the
+most elevated.
+
+                                                   MIGUEL PIETOSO.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+ON THE WAY.
+
+
+"Ah, senorita! what will become of us? I can go no farther. Will this
+wilderness never end?"
+
+"Courage, Manuela! Courage, daughter of Cuba! See, it is growing light
+already. Look at those streaks of gold in the east. A few moments, and
+the sky will be bright; then we shall see where we are going, and all
+will be well. In the meantime, we are free, and on Cuban soil. What can
+harm us?"
+
+Rita looked around her with kindling eyes. She was standing on a rock
+that jutted from the hillside; it was a friendly rock, and they had been
+sleeping under it, wrapped in their warm cloaks, for the night was
+cool. A group of palms nodded their green plumes over the rock; on
+every side stretched a tangle of shrubs and tall grasses, broken here
+and there by palms, or by rocks like this. Standing thus in the early
+morning light, Rita was a picturesque figure indeed. She was dressed in
+a blouse and short skirt of black serge, with a white kerchief knotted
+around her throat, and another twisted carelessly around her
+broad-brimmed straw hat. Her beautiful face was alight with eager
+inquiry and determination; her eyes roved over the landscape, as if
+seeking some familiar figure; but all was strange so far. Manuela,
+crouching at the foot of the rock, had lost, for the moment, all the
+fire of her patriotism. She was cold, poor Manuela; also, she had had a
+heavy bag to carry, and her arms ached, and she was hungry, and, if the
+truth must be told, rather cross. It was absurd to bring all these
+things into the desert. What use for the white silk blouse, or the lace
+fichu? but indeed they had no weight, whereas this monster of a--
+
+"How is Chico?" asked Rita, coming down from the rock. "Poor bird! what
+does he think of our wandering? he must be in need of food, Manuela. You
+brought the box of seed?"
+
+"I did, senorita; as to the need of birdseed in a wilderness of hideous
+forest, I have nothing to say. My fingers are so cramped from carrying
+this detestable cage, I shall never recover the full use of them. But
+the senorita must be obeyed."
+
+"Assuredly she must be obeyed!" said Rita; and a flash of her eyes added
+force to the words. "Could I have come away, I ask you, and left this
+faithful, this patriot bird, to starve, or be murdered outright? Old
+Julio would have wrung his neck, you know it well, Manuela, the first
+time he spoke out from his heart, spoke the words of freedom and
+patriotism that his mistress has taught him. Poor Chiquito! thou lovest
+me? thou art glad that I brought thee away from that place of tyranny
+and bloodshed? speak to thy mistress, Chico!"
+
+But Chico's spirits had been ruffled, as well as Manuela's, by being
+carried about in his cage, at unseemly hours, when he should have been
+hanging quietly in the verandah, where he belonged. He looked sulky, and
+only said, "_Caramba! no mi gusta!_"
+
+"He is hungry! he starves!" cried Rita; "give me the seed!" Sitting down
+on the rock, she proceeded to feed the parrot, as composedly as if they
+were indeed on the wide shaded verandah, instead of on a wild hillside,
+far from sight or sound of anything human.
+
+"And the senorita's own breakfast?" said Manuela at last, when Chiquito
+had had enough, and had deigned to relax a little, and even to mutter,
+"_Mi gustan todas!_" "Is the senorita not also dying of hunger? for
+myself, I perish, but that is of little consequence, save that my death
+will leave the senorita alone--with the parrot."
+
+Rita burst into merry laughter. "My poor Manuela!" she said. "Thou shalt
+not perish. Breakfast? we will have it this moment. Where is the bag?"
+
+The bag being produced,--it really was a heavy one, and it was hardly to
+be wondered at that Manuela should be a little peevish about it,--Rita
+drew from it a substantial box of chocolate, and a tin of biscuits. "My
+child, we breakfast!" she announced. "If kings desire to breakfast more
+royally, I make them my compliment. For free Cubans, bread and chocolate
+is a feast. Feast, then, Manuela mine. Eat, and be happy!"
+
+Bread--or rather, delicate biscuits, and chocolate, were indeed a feast
+to the two hungry girls. They nibbled and crunched, and Manuela's
+spirits rose with every bite. Rita's had no need to rise. She was
+having a real adventure; her dreams were coming true; she was a
+bona-fide heroine, in a bona-fide "situation." "What have we in the bag,
+best of Manuelas?" she asked. "I told you in a general way; I even added
+some trifles, for Carlos's comfort; poor dear Carlos! But tell me what
+you put in, my best one!"
+
+Manuela cast a rueful glance at the plump valise.
+
+"The white silk blouse," she said; "the white peignoir with swansdown."
+
+"In case of sickness!" cried Rita, interrupting. "You would not have me
+ill, far from my home, and bereft of every slightest comfort, Manuela?
+surely you would not; I know your kind heart too well. Besides, the
+peignoir weighs nothing; a feather, a puff of vapour. Go on! what else?"
+
+"Changes of linen, of course," said Manuela. "The gold-mounted
+toilet-set; two bottles of eau de Cologne; cigarettes for the Senorito
+Don Carlos; bonbons; the ivory writing-case; the feather fan; three
+pairs of shoes--"
+
+"Enough! enough!" cried Rita. "We shall do well, Manuela. You have been
+an angel of thoughtfulness. You did not bring any jewels? no? I thought
+perhaps the Etruscan gold set, so simple, yet so rich, might suit my
+altered life well enough; but no matter. After all, what have I to do
+with jewels now? The next question is, how are we to find Carlos?"
+
+"To find Don Carlos?" echoed Manuela. "You know where he is, senorita?"
+
+"But, assuredly!" said Rita, and she looked about her confidently. "He
+is--here!"
+
+"Here!" repeated Manuela.
+
+"In the mountains!" said Rita, waving her hand vaguely in the direction
+of the horizon. "It is a search; we must look for him, without doubt;
+but he is--here--somewhere. Come, Manuela, do not look so despairing. I
+tell you, we shall meet friends, it may be at any turn. The mountains
+are full of the soldiers of Cuba; the first ones we meet will take us to
+Carlos."
+
+"Yes," said Manuela. "But what if we met the others, senorita? what if
+we met the Spanish soldiers first? Hark! what was that?"
+
+A sound was heard close behind them; a rustling, sliding sound, as if
+something or somebody were making his way swiftly through the tall
+grass. Manuela clutched her mistress's arm, trembling; Rita, rather
+pale, but composed, looking steadily in the direction of the noise. It
+came nearer--the grass rustled and shook close beside them; and out from
+the tufted tangle came--three large land-crabs, scuttling along on their
+ungainly claws, and evidently in a hurry. Manuela uttered a shriek, but
+Rita laughed aloud.
+
+"Good luck!" she said. "They are good Cubans, the land-crabs. Many a
+good meal has Carlos made on them, poor fellow. If we followed them,
+Manuela? They may be going--somewhere. Let us see!"
+
+The crabs were soon out of sight, but the two girls, taking up their
+burdens, followed in the direction they had taken, along the hillside,
+going they knew not whither.
+
+There seemed to be some faint suggestion of a path. The grasses were
+bent aside, and broken here and there; something had trodden here,
+whether feet of men or of animals one could not tell. But glad to have
+any guide, however insufficient, the girls amused themselves by trying
+to discover fresh marks on tree or shrub or grass-clump. It was a wild
+tangle, palms and mangoes, coarse grass and savage-looking aloes, with
+wild vines running riot everywhere. So far, they had seen no sign of
+human life, and the sun was now well up, his rays beating down bright
+and hot. Suddenly, coming to a turn on the hillside, they heard voices;
+a moment later, and they were standing by a human dwelling.
+
+[Illustration: "THE FAMISHED CHILD LOOKED FROM THE BISCUIT TO THE
+GLOWING FACE."]
+
+At first sight it looked more like the burrow of some wild animal. It
+was little more than a hole dug in the side of the clay bank. Some
+boughs and palm-leaves were wattled together to form a rustic porch, and
+under this porch three people were sitting, on the bare ground,--two
+women, one young, the other old, and a little child, evidently belonging
+to the young woman. They were clothed in a few rags; their cheeks were
+hollow with famine, their eyes burning with fever. The old woman was
+stirring a handful of meal into a pot of water; the others looked on
+with painful eagerness. Rita recoiled with a low cry of terror. She had
+heard of this; these were some of the unhappy peasants who had been
+driven from their farms. She had never seen anything like it before.
+This--this was not the play she had come to see.
+
+The women looked up, and saw the two girls standing near. Instantly they
+began to cry out, in wailing voices. "Go! go away! there is nothing for
+you; nothing! we have not more than a mouthful for ourselves. Take
+yourselves away, and leave us in peace."
+
+Rita came forward, the tears running down her cheeks. "Oh, poor things!"
+she cried. "Poor souls, I want nothing. I am not hungry! See!--I have
+brought food for you. Quick, Manuela, the bag--the biscuits, child! Give
+them to me! Here, thou little one, take this, and eat; there is plenty
+more!"
+
+The famished child looked from the biscuit to the glowing face that bent
+over it. It made a feeble movement; then drew back in fear. The old
+woman still clamoured to the girls to go away; but the younger snatched
+the biscuit, and began feeding the child hastily, yet carefully.
+"Mother, be still!" she said, imperiously. "Hush that noise! do you not
+see this is no poor wretch like ourselves? This is a noble lady come
+from heaven to bring us help. Thanks, senorita!" With a quick, graceful
+movement, she lifted the hem of Rita's dress and pressed it to her lips.
+"We were dying!" she said, simply. "It was the last morsel; we meant to
+give it to the little one, and some one might find it when we were dead,
+and keep the life in it."
+
+"But, eat; eat!" cried Rita, filling the hands of both women with
+chocolate and biscuits. "It is dreadful, terrible! oh, I have heard of
+it, I have read of it, but I had not seen, I had not known. Oh, if my
+cousin Margaret were here, she would know what to do! Eat, my poor
+starving ones. You shall never be hungry again if I can help it."
+
+The child pulled its mother's ragged gown.
+
+"Is it an angel?" it asked, its mouth full of chocolate.
+
+"Hear the innocent!" said the mother. "No, lamb, not yet an angel, only
+a noble lady on the road to heaven. See, senorita! he was pretty, while
+his cheeks were round and full. Still, his eyes are pretty, are they
+not?"
+
+"They are lovely! he is a darling!" cried Rita; and she took the child
+in her arms, and bent over him to hide the tears. Was this truly Rita
+Montfort? Yes, the same Rita, only awake now, for the first time now in
+her pretty idle life. She felt of the little limbs. They were mere skin
+and bone; no sign of baby chubbiness, no curve or dimple. Indeed, she
+had come but just in time. "Listen!" she said, presently. "Where do you
+come from? where is your home?"
+
+The old woman made a gesture as wide and vague as Rita's own of a few
+minutes before. "Our home, noble lady? the wilderness is our home
+to-day. Our little farm, our cottage, our patch of cane, all gone, all
+destroyed. Only the graves of our dead left."
+
+"We come from Velaya," said the young woman. "It is miles from here; we
+were driven out by the Spaniards. My father was killed before our eyes;
+she is not herself since, poor soul; do we wonder at it? we have
+wandered ever since. My husband--do I know if he is alive or dead? He
+was with our men, he knows nothing of what has happened. If he returns,
+he will think us all dead. Poor Pedro! These are the conditions of war,
+senorita."
+
+She spoke very quietly; but her simple words pierced deeper than the
+plaints of the poor old woman.
+
+"Listen, again!" said Rita. "I am going to my brother; he also is with
+our army; he is with the General. Do you know, can you tell me, in what
+direction to look for them? When I find them, I will see; I will have
+provision made for you. You must stay here now, for a few hours; but
+have courage, help will come soon. My brother Carlos and the good
+General will care for you. Only tell me where to find them, and all will
+be well."
+
+She spoke so confidently that hope and courage seemed to go from her,
+and creep into the hearts of the forlorn creatures. The baby smiled, and
+stretched out its little fleshless hands for more of the precious food;
+even the old grandmother crept a little nearer, to kiss the hand of
+their benefactress, and call on all the saints to bless her and bring
+her to Paradise. The younger woman said there had been firing yesterday
+in that direction, and she pointed westward over the brow of a hill.
+They had seen no Cuban soldiers since they had been here, but a boy had
+passed by this morning, on his way to join the General, and he took the
+same westerly direction, and said the nearest pickets were not far
+distant.
+
+"And why did you not follow him?" asked Rita. "Why did you not go with
+him, and throw yourself at the feet of our good General, as I will do
+for you now? Yes, yes, I know; you were too weak, poor souls; you had no
+strength to travel farther. But I am young and strong, and so is
+Manuela; and we will go together, and soon we will come again, or send
+help for you. Manuela, will you come with me? or will it be better for
+you to stay and care for these poor ones while I seek Don Carlos?"
+
+But Manuela was, very properly, scandalised at the thought of her young
+lady's going off alone on any such quest. It appeared, she said, as if
+the senorita had left her excellent intelligence behind in Havana. These
+people would do very well now; they had food; they had, indeed, all
+there was, practically, and the senorita might herself starve, if they
+did not find Don Carlos soon. That was enough, surely; let them remain
+as they were.
+
+"You are right, Manuela!" said Rita, nodding sagely. "We must go
+together. Your heart does not appear to be stirred as mine is; but never
+mind--the hungry are fed, and that is the thing of importance. Farewell,
+then, friends! How do they call you, that I may know how to tell those
+whom I shall send?"
+
+The younger woman was named Dolores, she said. Her husband was Pedro
+Valdez, and this old one was his mother. If the senorita should see
+Pedro--if by Heaven's mercy he should be with the General at this
+moment, all would indeed be well. In any case, their prayers and
+blessings would go with the senorita and her valued attendant.
+
+Often and often, the soft Spanish speech of compliment and ceremony
+sounded hollow and artificial in Rita's ears, even though she had been
+used to it all her life; but there was no doubting the sincerity of
+these earnest and heartfelt thanks. Her own heart felt very warm, as she
+turned, with a final wave of the hands, to take a last look at the
+little group by the earth-hovel.
+
+"We have made a good beginning, Manuela," she said. "We have saved three
+lives, I truly believe. Now we shall go on with new courage. I feel,
+Manuela, that I can do anything--meet any foe. Ah! what is that? a
+snake! a horrible green snake! I faint, Manuela! I die--no, I don't.
+See, I am the sister of a soldier, and I am not going to die any more,
+when I see these fearful creatures. Manuela, do you observe?
+I--am--firm; marble, Manuela, is soft in comparison with me. Ah, he is
+gone away. This is a world of peril, my poor child. Let us hasten on;
+Carlos waits for us, though he does not know it."
+
+Talking thus, with much more of the same kind, Rita pushed on, and
+Manuela followed as best she might. Rita had left the parrot's cage
+under charge of Dolores, and carried the bird on her shoulder, with only
+a cord fastened to his leg. Chico was well used to this, and made no
+effort to fly away; indeed, he had reached an age when it was more
+comfortable to sit on a soft shoulder and be fed and petted, than to
+flutter among strange trees and find his living for himself; so he sat
+still, crooning to himself from time to time, and cocking his bright
+yellow eye at his mistress, to see what she thought of it all.
+
+It was hard work, pushing through the jungle. The girls' hands were
+scratched and torn with brambles; Rita's delicate shoes were in a sad
+condition; her dress began to show more than one jagged rent. Still she
+made her way forward, with undaunted zeal, cheering the weary Manuela
+with jest and story. Indeed, the girl seemed thoroughly transformed, and
+her Northern cousins, who had known and loved her even in her wilful
+indolence, would hardly have recognised their Rita in this valiant
+maiden, who made nothing of heat, dust, or even scorpions, and pressed
+on and on in her quest of her brother.
+
+After an hour of weary walking, the girls came to a road, or something
+that passed for a road. There was no sign of life on it, but there was
+something that made them start, then stop and look at each other. Beside
+the rough path, in a tangle of vines and thorny cactus, stood the ruin
+of a tiny chapel. A group of noble palms towered above it; from the
+stony bank behind it bubbled a little fountain. The door of the chapel
+was gone; it was long since there had been glass in the windows, and the
+empty spaces showed only emptiness within; yet the bell still hung in
+the mouldering belfry; the bell-rope trailed above the sunken porch, its
+whole length twined with flowering creepers. It was a strange sight.
+
+"Manuela!" cried Rita; "do you see?"
+
+"I see the holy chapel," said Manuela, who was a good Catholic. "Some
+saintly man lived here in old times. Pity, that the altar is gone. It
+must have been a pretty chapel, senorita."
+
+"The bell!" cried Rita. "Do you see the bell, Manuela? what if we rang
+it, to let Carlos know that we are near? It is a good idea, a superb
+idea!"
+
+"Senorita, I implore you not to touch it! For heaven's sake, senorita!
+Alas, what have you done?"
+
+Manuela clasped her hands, and fairly wailed in terror, for Rita had
+grasped the bell-rope, and was pulling it with right good will. Ding!
+ding! the notes rang out loud and clear. The rock behind caught up the
+echo, and sent it flying across to the hill beyond. Ding! ding! The
+parrot screamed, and Rita herself, after sounding two or three peals,
+dropped the rope, and stood with parted lips and anxious eyes, waiting
+to see what would come of it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE CAMP AMONG THE HILLS.
+
+
+A sound of voices! eager voices of men, calling to one another. The
+tread of hasty feet, the noise of breaking bushes, of men sliding,
+jumping, running, hurrying, coming every instant nearer and nearer. What
+had Rita done, indeed? Manuela crouched on the mouldering floor at her
+mistress's feet, too terrified even to cry out now; Rita Montfort drew
+her dagger, and waited.
+
+Next instant the narrow doorway was thronged with men; swarthy
+black-browed men, ragged, hatless, shoeless, but all armed, all with
+rifle cocked, all pressing forward with eager, wondering looks.
+
+"Who rang the bell? what has happened?"
+
+A babel of voices arose; Rita could not have made herself heard if she
+would; and, indeed, for the moment no words came to her lips. But there
+was one to speak for her. Chiquito, the old gray parrot, raised his head
+from her shoulder, where he had been quietly dozing, and flapped his
+wings, and cried aloud:
+
+"_Viva Cuba Libre! viva Garcia! viva Gomez! a muerto Espana!_" There was
+a moment's silence; then the voices broke out again in wild cries and
+cheers.
+
+"Ah, the Cuban bird! the parrot of freedom! Welcome, senorita! You bring
+us good luck! Welcome to the Cuban ladies and their glorious bird! _Viva
+Cuba Libre! viva Garcia! viva el papageno!_ long life to the illustrious
+lady!"
+
+Rita, herself again, stepped from the chapel, erect and joyous, holding
+the parrot aloft.
+
+"I thank you, brothers!" she said. "I come to seek freedom among you; I
+am a daughter of Cuba. Does any among you know Don Carlos Montfort?"
+
+The babel rose again. Know Don Carlos? but surely! was he not their
+captain? Even now he was at the General's quarters, consulting him about
+the movements of the next day. What joy! what honour for the poor sons
+of Cuba to form the escort of the peerless sister of Don Carlos to
+headquarters! But the distance was nothing. They would carry the
+senorita and her attendant; they would make a throne, and transport them
+as lightly as if swans drew them. Ah, the fortunate day! the lucky omen
+of the blessed parrot!
+
+They babbled like children, crowding round Chiquito, extolling his
+beauty, his wisdom, the miracle of his timely utterance. Chiquito seemed
+to think, for his part, that he had done enough. He paid no attention to
+the blandishments of his ragged admirers, but turned himself upside
+down, always a sign of contempt with him, said "Caramba!" and would say
+nothing more.
+
+A little procession was formed, the least ragged of the patriots leading
+the way, Rita and Manuela following. The others crowded together behind,
+exclaiming, wondering, pleased as children with this wonderful
+happening. Thus they crossed a ragged hill, threaded a grove of palms,
+and finally came upon an open space, roughly cleared, in the middle of
+which stood a tent, with several rude huts around it. The soldiers
+explained with eager gestures. Behold the tent of the illustrious
+General. Behold the dwelling of Don Rodrigo, of Don Uberto, of Don
+Carlos; behold, finally, Don Carlos himself, emerging from the General's
+tent. The gallant ragamuffins drew back, and became on the instant
+spectators at a play. A slender young man came out of the tent,
+evidently to inquire the meaning of the commotion. At what he saw he
+turned apparently to stone, and stood, cigarette in hand, staring at the
+vision before him. But for Rita there was no hesitation now. Running to
+her brother, she threw her arms around his neck with unaffected joy.
+
+"Carlos!" she cried. "I have come to you. I had no one else to go to.
+They were taking me to the convent, and I would have died sooner. I have
+come to you, to live or die with you, for our country."
+
+Manuela wept; the soldiers were moved to tears, and brushed their ragged
+sleeves across their eyes. But Carlos Montfort did not weep.
+
+"Rita!" he said, in English, returning his sister's caress
+affectionately, but with little demonstration of joy. "What is the
+meaning of this? what induced you--how could you do such a thing as
+this? where do you come from? how did you find your way?" And he added
+to himself, "And what the mischief am I to do with you now you are
+here?"
+
+Rita explained hastily; gave a dramatic sketch of her adventures, not
+forgetting the unfortunate peasants, who must, she said, be rescued that
+instant from their wretched plight; and wound up with a vivid
+description of the bell-ringing, the gathering of the patriot forces,
+and the magnificent behaviour of her beloved Chiquito.
+
+"Good gracious! you have brought the parrot, too!" cried poor Carlos.
+"Rita! Rita! this is too much."
+
+At this moment a new person appeared on the scene. A tall old man,
+stooping his head, came out from the tent, and greeted the wandering
+damsel with grave courtesy.
+
+Perhaps the General had seen too much of life and of war to be surprised
+at anything; perhaps he was sorry for the embarrassment of his young
+lieutenant, and wished to make things easier for him; however it was, he
+apparently found it the most natural thing in the world for a young
+lady and her maid to be wandering in the wilderness in search of the
+Cuban army. The first thing, he said, was to make the senorita
+comfortable, as comfortable as their limited powers would allow. She
+would take his tent, of course; it was her own from that instant; but
+equally of course neither Rita nor Carlos would hear of this. A friendly
+dispute ensued; and it was finally decided that Rita and Manuela were to
+make themselves as comfortable as might be in Carlos's own tent, while
+he shared that of his commander. The General yielded only under protest
+to this arrangement; yet he did yield, seeing that resistance would
+distress both brother and sister. Since the senorita would not take his
+tent, he said, the next best thing was that she should accept his
+hospitality, such as he could offer her, within it; or rather, before
+it, since the evening was warm. His men were even now preparing the
+evening meal; when the senorita was refreshed and rested, he hoped she
+and Don Carlos would share it with him.
+
+Rita withdrew into the little hut, in a glow of patriotism and
+enthusiasm. "Manuela," she cried, "did you ever see such nobleness, such
+lofty yet gracious courtesy? Ah! I knew he was a man to die for. How
+happy we are, to be here at last, after dreaming of it so long! I
+thrill; I burn with sacred fire--what is the matter, Manuela? you look
+the spirit of gloom. What has happened?"
+
+Manuela was crouching on the bare earthen floor, her shoulders shrugged
+up to her ears, her dark eyes glancing around the tiny room with every
+expression of marked disapproval. It was certainly not a luxurious
+apartment. The low walls were of rough logs, the roof was a ragged piece
+of very dingy canvas, held in place by stones here and there. In one
+corner was a pile of dried grass and leaves, with a blanket thrown over
+it,--evidently Don Carlos's bed. There was a camp-stool, a rude box set
+on end, that seemed to do duty both for dressing and writing table,
+since it was littered with papers, shaving materials, cigarette-cases,
+and a variety of other articles.
+
+Manuela spread out her arms with a despairing gesture. Was this, she
+asked, the place where the senorita was going to live? Where was she to
+hang the dresses? where was she to lay out the dressing things? As to
+making up the bed,--it would be better to die at once, in Manuela's
+opinion, than to live--Here Manuela stopped suddenly, for she had seen
+something. Rita, whose back was turned to the doorway of the hut, was
+rating her severely. Was this Manuela's patriotism, she wished to know?
+had she not said, over and over again, that she was prepared to shed the
+last drop of blood for their country, as she herself, Rita, was longing
+to do? and now, when it was simply a question of a little discomfort,
+of a few privations shared with their brave defenders, here was Manuela
+complaining and fretting, like a peevish child. Well! and what was the
+matter now?
+
+Manuela had risen from her despairing position, and was now bustling
+about the hut, brushing, smoothing, tidying up, with an air of smiling
+alacrity. But indeed, yes! she said; the senorita put her to shame. If
+the senorita could endure these trials, it was not for her poor Manuela
+to complain. No, indeed, sooner would she die. And after all, the hut
+was small, but that made things more handy, perhaps. The beautiful table
+that this would become, if she might remove the Senor Don Carlos's
+cigar-ashes? There! a scarf thrown over it--ah! What fortune, that she
+had brought the crimson satin scarf! Behold, an exhibition of beauty! As
+for the bed, she had heard from--from those who were soldiers
+themselves, that no couch was so soft, so wooing to sleep, as one of
+forest boughs. It stood to reason; there was poetry in the thought, as
+the senorita justly remarked. Now, with a few nails or pegs to hang
+things on, their little apartment would be complete. Let the senorita of
+her goodness forget the foolishness of her poor Manuela; she should hear
+no more of it; that was a promise.
+
+Rita looked in amazement at her follower; the girl's eyes were
+sparkling, her cheeks flushed, and she could not keep back the smiles
+that came dimpling and rippling over her pretty face.
+
+"But what has happened to you, Manuela?" cried Rita. "I insist upon
+knowing. What have you seen?"
+
+What had Manuela seen, to produce such a sudden and amazing change?
+Nothing, surely; or next to nothing. A ragged soldier had strolled past
+the door of the hut; a black-browed fellow, with a red handkerchief tied
+over his head, and a black cigar nearly a foot long; but what should
+that matter to Manuela?
+
+Rita looked at her curiously, but could get no explanation, save that
+Manuela had come to her senses, owing to the noble and glorious example
+set her by her beloved senorita.
+
+"Well!" said Rita, turning away half-petulantly. "Of course I know you
+are as changeable as a weathercock, Manuela. But as you were saying, if
+we had a few nails, we should do well enough here. I will go ask the
+Senor Don Carlos--"
+
+"Pardon, dearest senorita!" cried Manuela, hastily. "But what a pity
+that would be, to disturb the senor during his arduous labours. Without
+doubt the illustrious Senor Don Generalissimo (Manuela loved a title,
+and always made the most of one) requires him every instant, in the
+affairs of the nation. I--I can find some one who will get nails for us,
+and drive them also."
+
+"You can find some one?" repeated Rita. "And whom, then, can you find,
+pray?"
+
+"Only Pepe!" said Manuela, in a small voice.
+
+Was the name a conjuring-spell? It had hardly been spoken when Pepe
+himself stood in the doorway, ducking respectfully at the senorita, but
+looking out of the corners of his black eyes at Manuela. Rita smiled in
+spite of herself. Was this ragamuffin, barefoot, tattered, his hair in
+elf-locks,--was this the once elegant Pepe, the admired of himself and
+all the waiting-maids of Havana? He had once been Carlos's servant, when
+the young Cuban had time and taste for such idle luxuries; now he was
+his fellow soldier and faithful follower.
+
+"Well, Pepe," said Rita; "you also are here to welcome us, it appears.
+That is well. If you could find us a few nails, my good Pepe? the Senor
+Don Carlos is occupied with the General at present, and you can help
+us, if you will."
+
+Where had Rita learned this new and gracious courtesy? A few months ago,
+she would have said, "Pepe! drive nails!" and thought no more about it.
+Indeed, she could have given no explanation, save that "things were
+different." Perhaps our Rita is growing up, inside as well as outside?
+Certainly the pretty airs and graces have given way to a womanly and
+thoughtful look not at all unbecoming to any face, however beautiful.
+
+The thoughtful look deepened into anxiety, as a sudden recollection
+flashed into her mind. "Oh!" she cried. "And here I sit in peace, and
+have done nothing about those poor creatures in the hut! I must go to
+the General! But stay! Pepe, do you know--is there a man in the camp
+called Pedro Valdez?"
+
+But, yes! Pepe said. Assuredly there was such a man. Did the senorita
+require him?
+
+"Oh, please bring him!" said Rita. "Tell him that I have something of
+importance to tell him. Quick, my good Pepe!"
+
+Pepe vanished, and soon returned, dragging by the collar a lean
+scarecrow even more dilapidated than himself. Apparently the poor fellow
+had been asleep, and had been roughly clutched and hauled across the
+camp, for his hair was full of leaves and grass, and he was rubbing his
+eyes and swearing softly under his breath, vowing vengeance on his
+captor.
+
+"Silence, animal!" said Pepe, admonishing him by a kick of the presence
+of ladies; "Behold the illustrious senorita, who does you the honour to
+look at you. Attention, Swine of the Antilles!"
+
+Thus adjured, poor Pedro straightened himself, made the best bow he
+could, and stood sheepishly before Rita, trying furtively to brush a few
+of the sticks and straws off his ragged clothing.
+
+"You are Pedro Valdez?" asked Rita.
+
+At the service of the illustrious senorita. Yes, he was Pedro Valdez; in
+no condition to appear in such company, but nevertheless her slave and
+her beast of burden.
+
+"Oh, listen!" cried Rita, her eyes softening with compassion and
+anxiety. "You have a wife, Pedro Valdez,--a wife and a dear little
+child, is it not so? and your mother--she is old and weak. When have you
+seen them all, Valdez? Where did you leave them?"
+
+The man looked bewildered. "Leave them, senorita? I left them at home,
+in our village. They were well, all was well, when I came away. Has
+anything befallen them?"
+
+"They are safe! All is well with them now, or will be well, when you go
+to them. They are near here, Valdez. The Spaniards broke up the village,
+do you see? Dolores and your mother fled with the little one. The
+village was burned, and many souls perished; but Dolores was so strong,
+so brave, that she got the old mother away alive and safe, and the child
+as well. They have suffered terribly, my poor man; you must look to find
+them pale and thin, but they are alive, and all will be well when once
+they have found you."
+
+Seeing Valdez overcome for the moment, Rita hastened to the General's
+tent and told her story, begging that the husband and father might be
+allowed to go at once to the relief of his suffering family.
+
+"And he shall bring them here, shall he not?" she cried, eagerly. "They
+cannot be separated again, can they, dear Senor General? you will make
+room for Dolores--that is the wife; oh, such a brave woman! and the old
+mother, and the dear little child!"
+
+The General looked puzzled; a look half quizzical, half sad, stole over
+his fine face; while he hesitated, Carlos broke out hastily: "Rita! you
+are too unreasonable! Do you think we are in a city here? do you think
+the General has everything at his command, to maintain an establishment
+of women and children? It is not to be thought of. We have no room, no
+supplies, no conveniences of any kind; they must go elsewhere."
+
+"They can have my house!" cried Rita, "Your house, brother Carlos, which
+you have given to me. I will sleep in a hammock, under a tree. What
+matter? I will live on bread and water; I will--"
+
+"My dear young lady!" said the General, interrupting her eager speech
+with a lifted hand. "My dear child, if an old man may call you so, if
+only we had bread for all, there would be no further question. We would
+gladly take these poor people, and hundreds of other suffering ones who
+fill the hills and valleys of our unhappy country. But--Carlos is right,
+alas! that I must say it. Here in the mountain camp, it is impossible
+for us to harbour refugees, unless for a night or so, while other
+provision is making. Let Valdez bring his family here for the night--we
+can make shift to feed and shelter them so long. After that--"
+
+He shook his head sadly. Rita clasped her hands in distress. To be
+brought face to face with the impossible was a new experience to the
+spoiled child. There was a moment's silence. Then:
+
+"Senor General," she cried, "I know! I see! all may yet be managed. They
+shall go to our house."
+
+"To--"
+
+"To our house, Carlos's and mine, in Havana. There are servants, troops
+of them; there is food, drink, everything, in abundance, in wicked,
+shameful abundance. Julio shall take care of them; Julio shall treat
+them as his mother and his sister. I will write commands to him; this
+instant I will write."
+
+Snatching a sheet of paper from the table, she wrote furiously for a
+moment, then handed the paper to the General with a look of
+satisfaction. The General--oh, how slow he was!--adjusted his glasses,
+and read the paper carefully; looked at Rita; looked at Carlos, and read
+the paper again. Rita clenched her little hands, but was calm as marble,
+as she assured herself. "Have I the senorita's permission to read this
+aloud?" asked the old man at last. "It may be that Don Carlos's
+advice--a thousand thanks, senorita." He read:
+
+        "JULIO:--The bearer of this is the wife of
+        Pedro Valdez. You are to take her and her
+        family in, and give them the best the house
+        contains; the best, do you hear? put them in
+        the marble guest-chamber, and place the house
+        at their disposal. Send for Doctor Blanco to
+        attend them; let Teresa wait upon them, and let
+        her furnish them with clothes from my wardrobe.
+        If you do not do all this, Julio, I will have
+        you killed; so fail not as you value your life.
+
+                         "MARGARITA DE SAN REAL MONTFORT.
+
+        "P.S. The Senor Don Carlos is here with me, and
+        echoes what I say. We are with the brave
+        General Sevillo, and if you dare to disobey,
+        terrible revenge will be taken."
+
+"The ardent patriotism of the senorita," said the General, cautiously,
+"is beautiful and inspiring; nevertheless, is it not possible that a
+more conciliatory tone might--I would not presume to dictate, but--"
+
+"Oh, Rita!" cried Carlos. "Child, when will you learn that we are no
+longer acting plays at home? This is absurd!"
+
+With an impatient movement that might have been Rita's own, he snatched
+the paper and tore it in two. "The General cannot be troubled with such
+folly!" he said, shortly. "Go to your room, my sister, and repose
+yourself after your fatigues."
+
+"By no means!" cried the kindly General, seeing Rita's eyes fill with
+tears of anger and mortification. "The senorita has promised to make my
+tea for me this evening. Give orders, I pray you, Don Carlos, that
+Valdez bring his family to us for the night; the rest can well wait for
+to-morrow's light. The senorita is exhausted, I fear, with her manifold
+fatigues, and she must have no more anxieties to-day. Behold the tea at
+this moment! Senorita Rita, this will be the pleasantest meal I have had
+since I left my home, two years ago."
+
+No anger could stand against the General's smile. In a moment Rita was
+smiling herself, though the tears still stood in her dark eyes, and one
+great drop even rolled down her cheek, to the General's great distress.
+Carlos, seeing with contrition his sister's effort at self-control, bent
+to kiss her cheek and murmur a few affectionate words. Soon they were
+all seated around the little table, Rita and the General on
+camp-stools, Carlos on a box. The tea was smoking hot; what did it
+matter that the nose of the teapot was broken? Rita had never tasted
+anything so delicious as that cup of hot tea, without milk, and with a
+morsel of sugar-cane for sweetening. The camp fare, biscuits soaked in
+water and fried in bacon fat, was better, she declared, than any food
+she had ever tasted in her life. To her delight, a small box of
+chocolate still remained in her long-suffering bag; this she presented
+to the General with her prettiest courtesy, and he vowed he was not
+worthy to taste such delicacies from such a hand. So, with interchange
+of compliments, and with a real friendliness that was far better, the
+little feast went on gaily; and when, late in the evening, Rita withdrew
+to her tent, she told Manuela that she had never enjoyed anything so
+much in her life; never!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+TO MARGARET.
+
+
+                               CAMP OF THE SONS OF CUBA,
+                                 May the --, Midnight.
+
+MY MARGUERITE:--What will you say when your eyes, those calm gray eyes,
+rest upon the above heading? Will they open wider, I ask myself? Will
+the breath come quicker between those cool rose-leaves of your lips? "It
+is true!" you will murmur to yourself. "She has done as she said, as she
+swore she would. My Rita, my wild pomegranate flower, has kept her vow;
+she is in the mountains with Carlos; she has taken her place beside the
+defenders of her country."
+
+Ah! you thought it was play, Marguerite, confess it! You thought the
+wild Cuban girl was uttering empty breath of nothingness; you have had
+no real anxiety, you never dreamed that I should really find
+myself--where now I am. Where is it? Listen, Marguerite! My house--once
+Carlos's house, now mine by his brotherly gift--stands in a little glen
+of the hills. An open space, once dry grass, now bare earth, baked by
+the sun, trodden by many feet; a cluster of palms, a mountain spring
+gushing from a rock hard by; on every side hills, the brown, rugged
+hills of Cuba, fairer to me than cloudy Alps of Italy, or those other
+great mountains of which never can I remember the barbarous names. To
+teach me geography, Marguerite, you never could succeed, you will
+remember; more than our poor Peggy history. Poor little Peggy! I could
+wish she were here with me; it would be the greatest pleasure of her
+life. For you, Marguerite, the scene is too wild, too stern; but Peggy
+has a martial spirit under her somewhat clumsy exterior. But I wander,
+and Peggy is without doubt sleeping at this moment under the stern eye
+of her schoolmistress. I began to tell you about my house, Marguerite.
+So small a house you saw never. Standing, I reach up my hand and touch
+the roof, of brown canvas, less fresh than once it was. Sitting, I
+stretch out my arms--here is one wall; there--almost, but a few feet
+between--is the other. In a corner my bed--ah, Marguerite! on your white
+couch there, with snowy draperies falling softly about you, consider my
+bed! a pile of dried grasses and leaves, shaken and tossed anew every
+morning, covered with a camp blanket. I tell you, the gods might sleep
+on it, and ask no better. In another corner sleeps Manuela, my faithful
+maid, my humble friend, the companion of my wanderings. Some day you
+shall see Manuela; she is an excellent creature. Cultivated, no;
+intellinctual--what is that for a word, Marguerite? Ah! when will you
+learn Spanish, that I may pour my soul with freedom?--no; but a heart
+of gold, a spirit of fire and crystal. She keeps my hut neat, she
+arranges my toilet,--singular toilets, my dear, yet not wholly
+unbecoming, I almost fancy,--she helps me in a thousand ways. She has a
+little love-affair, that is a keen interest to me; Pepe, formerly the
+servant of Carlos, adores her, and she casts tender eyes upon the young
+soldier. For me, as you know, Marguerite, these things are for ever
+past, buried in the grave of my hero, in the stately tomb that hides the
+ashes of the Santillos. I take a sorrowful pleasure in watching the
+budding happiness of these young creatures. More of this another time.
+
+I sit, Marguerite, in the doorway of my little house. It is the middle
+hour of the night, when tomb-yards gape, as your Shakespeare says. Am I
+sleepy? No! The camp slumbers, but I--I am awake, and I watch. I had a
+very long siesta, too. The moon is full, and the little glade is bathed
+in silver light. Here in Cuba, Marguerite, the moon is other than with
+you in the north. You call her pale moon, gentle moon, I know not what.
+Here she shines fiercely, with passion, with palpitations of fiery
+silver. The palms, the aloes, the tangled woods about the camp, are
+black as night; all else is a flood of airy silver. I float, I swim in
+this flood, entranced, enraptured. I ask myself, have I lived till now?
+is not this the first real thrill of life I have ever experienced? I
+alone wake, as I said; the others slumber profoundly. The General in his
+tent; ah, that you could know him, Marguerite! that you and my uncle
+could embrace this noble, this godlike figure! He is no longer young,
+the snows of seventy winters have blanched his clustering locks; it is
+the only sign of age. For the rest, erect, vigorous, a knight, a
+paladin, a--in effect, a son of Cuba. The younger officers regard him as
+a divinity; they live or die at his command. They are three, these
+officers; Carlos is one; the others, Don Alonzo Ximenes, Don Uberto
+Cortez. Don Alonzo is not interesting; he is fat, and rather stupid, but
+most good-natured. Don Uberto is Carlos's friend, a noble young captain,
+much admired formerly in Havana. I have danced with him, my cousin, in
+halls of rose-wreathed marble; we meet here in the wilderness, I with my
+shattered affections, he with his country's name written on his soul. It
+is affecting; it is heart-stirring, Marguerite; yet think nothing of it;
+romance is dead for Margarita Montfort. Carlos is my kind brother, as
+ever. He was vexed at first at my coming here. Heavens! what was I to
+do? My stepmother was dragging me to a convent; my days would have been
+spent there, and in a short time my life would have gone out like a
+flame. "Out, short candle!" You see I remember your Shakespeare
+readings, my dearest. Can I forget anything that recalls you to me, half
+of my heart? If there had been time, indeed, I might have written to my
+uncle; I might even have come to you; but the hour descended like a
+thunderbolt; I fled, Manuela with me. The manner of my flight? you will
+ask. Marguerite, it was managed--I do not boast, I am the soul of
+humility, you know it!--the manner of it was perfect. Listen, and you
+shall hear all. You remember that in my last letter--written, alas! in
+my beloved garden, which I may never see more--I spoke with a certain
+restraint, even an approach to mystery. It was thus. At first, when that
+woman proposed to take me to the convent, I was a creature distracted.
+The fire of madness burned in my veins, and I could think of nothing
+save death or revenge. But with time came reflection; came wisdom,
+Marguerite, and inflexible resolve. To those she loves, Margarita
+Montfort is wax, silk, down, anything the most soft and yielding that
+can be figured. To her enemies, steel and adamant are her composition.
+I had two friends in that house of Spaniards; one was Pasquale, good,
+faithful Pasquale, an under gardener and helper; the other, Manuela, my
+maid. I have described her to you--enough! I realised that action must
+be of swiftness, the lightning flash, the volcano fire that I predicted.
+Do not say that I did not warn you, Marguerite; knowing me, you must
+have expected from my last letter what must come. I called Manuela to my
+room, I made pretence that she should arrange my hair. My hair has grown
+three inches, Marguerite, since I left you; it now veritably touches the
+floor as I sit. Our holy religion tells us that it is a woman's crown,
+yet how heavy a one at times! I closed the door, I locked it; I caused
+to draw down the heavy Persians. Then, tiger-like, I sprang upon my
+attendant, and laid my hand on her mouth. "Hush!" I tell her. "Not a
+word, not a sound! dare but breathe, and you may be my death. My life,
+I tell you, hangs by a thread. Hush! be silent, and tell me all. Tell me
+who assists Geronimo in the stables since Pablo is ill." Manuela
+struggles, she releases herself to reply--
+
+"Pasquale!"
+
+It is the answer from heaven. Pasquale, I have said, is my one friend
+beside Manuela. I say to her, "Do thus, and thus! give these orders to
+Pasquale; tell him that it imports of your life and mine, saying nothing
+of his own; that if I am not obeyed, the evil eye will be the least of
+his punishments, and death without the sacraments the end for him."
+
+Manuela hears; she trembles; she flies to execute my commands. Then,
+Marguerite--then, what does the daughter of Cuba do? She goes to the
+wall, to the trophy I have described to you so often. She selects her
+weapons. Ah, if you could see them! First, a long slender dagger, the
+steel exquisitely inlaid with gold, in a sheath of green enamel; a
+dagger for a prince, Marguerite, for your Lancelot or Tristram!
+Another, short and keen, the blade plain but deadly, cased in wrought
+leather of Cordova. Last, my machete, my pearl of destructiveness. It
+was his, my Santayana's; he procured it from Toledo, from the master
+sword-maker of the universe. The blade is so fine, the eye refuses to
+tell where it melts into the air; a touch, and the hardest substance is
+divided exactly in two pieces. The handle, gold, set with an ancestral
+emerald, which for centuries has brought victory in the field to the arm
+of the hero who wore it; the sheath--I forget myself; this weapon has no
+sheath. When a Santillo de Santayana rides into battle, he has no
+thought to sheathe his sword. These, Marguerite, are my armament; these,
+and a tiny gold-mounted revolver, a gem, a toy, but a toy of deadly
+purpose. Enough! I lay them apart, ready for the night. I go to my
+stepmother, I smile, I make submission. I will do all she wishes; I am
+a child; her age impresses me with the truth that I should not set my
+will against hers. Concepcion is thirty on her next birthday; she tells
+the world that she is twenty, but I know! it grinds her bones when I
+remind her of her years, as they were revealed to me by a member of her
+family. So! She is pleased, we embrace, the volantes are commanded, all
+goes smoothly. I demand permission to take my parrot to the convent; it
+is, to my surprise, accorded; I know she thought those savage sisters
+would kill him the first time he uttered his noble and inspiring words.
+
+The night comes, the hour of the departure. To accompany us goes my good
+Don Miguel, the dear old man of whom I have told you, whom I revere as
+my grandfather. My heart yearns to tell him all, to cast myself on his
+venerable bosom and cry, "Come with me; take me yourself to my brother;
+share with us the perils and glories of the tented field!" But no! he
+is old, this dear friend; his hair is the snow, his step is feeble.
+Hardships such as Rita must now endure would end his feeble life. I
+speak no word; a marble smile is all I wear, though my heart is rent
+with anguish. The carriages are at the door. Concepcion would have me
+ride in the first, that she may have her eyes on me at each instant. She
+suspects nothing, no; it is merely the base and suspicious nature which
+reveals itself at every occasion. I refuse, I prodigate expressions of
+my humility, of my determination to take the second place, leaving the
+first to her; briefly, I take the second volante, Manuela springing to
+my side. After some discontent, appeased by dear Don Miguel, who is
+veritably an angel, and wants but death to transport him among the
+saints, Concepcion mounts in the first volante. I have seen that
+Pasquale is on the box of mine; I possess my soul, I lean back and count
+the beats of my fevered pulse, as we ascend the steep road, winding
+among hills and forests. The convent is at the top of a long, long hill,
+very steep and rugged; the horses pant and strain; humanity demands that
+they slacken their pace, that the carriages are slowly, slowly, drawn up
+the rugged track. The night descends, I have told you, swiftly in our
+southern climate; already it is dark. On either side of the road are
+tall shrouded forms, which Manuela takes for sentinels, for Spanish
+soldiers drawn up to watch, perhaps to arrest us. I laugh; I see they
+are the aloes only, planted here in rows along the road. Presently, at a
+turn of the road, a light! a fire burning by the roadside, and soldiers
+running, real ones this time, to the horses' heads. "_Alerta! quien
+va?_" It is the Spanish challenge, Marguerite; it is a piquette of the
+Gringos, of the hated Spaniards. They peer into the carriages, faces of
+savages, of brutes, devils; I feel their glances like poisoned arrows.
+They demand, Don Miguel makes answer, shows his papers. Of the instant
+these slaves are cringing, are bowing to the earth. "Pass, most
+honourable and illustrious Senor Don Miguel Pietoso, with the heavenly
+ladies under your charge!" It is over. The volantes roll on. I clasp
+Manuela in my arms and whisper, "We are free!" We mingle our tears of
+rapture, but for a moment only. We approach the steepest pitch of the
+long hill (it is veritably a mountain), a place beyond conception rugged
+and difficult. The horses strain and tug; they are at point of
+exhaustion. I look at Pasquale; Pasquale has served me since my cradle.
+Does his head move, a very little, the least imaginable motion? It is
+too dark to see; the moon is not yet risen. But I feel the horses
+checked, I feel the carriage pause, an instant, a breath only. I step
+noiselessly to the ground; the volante is low, permitting this without
+danger. Manuela follows. There is not a sound, not a creak, not the
+rustle of a fold. Again it is over. The volante rolls on. Manuela and I
+are alone, are free in the mountains of Cuba Libre.
+
+I have but one thought: my country, my brother! Behold me here, in the
+society of one, prepared to shed my blood for the other. You would never
+guess who else is with us; Chiquito, our poor old friend the parrot, the
+sacred legacy of that white saint, our departed aunt. Could I leave him
+behind, to unfriendly, perhaps murderous, hands? Old Julio is a Spaniard
+at heart; Chiquito is a Cuban bird; his very soul--do you doubt that a
+bird has a soul, when I tell you that I have seen it in his eyes,
+Marguerite?--his very soul speaks for his country. If you could hear him
+cry, "_Viva Cuba Libre!_" The camp is on fire when they hear him. Ah,
+they are such brave fellows, our soldiers! poor, in rags, half-fed--it
+matters not! each one is a hero, and all are my brothers. Marguerite,
+sleep hangs at last upon me. Good-night, beloved; good-night, cool white
+soul of ivory and silver. I love thee always devotedly. Have no fear for
+me. It is true that the Spaniards are all about us in these mountains,
+that at any moment we may be attacked. What of that? If the daughter of
+Cuba dies by her brother's side, in her country's cause, my Marguerite
+will know that it is well with her. You will shed a tear over the lonely
+grave among the Cuban hills; but you will plant a wreath for Rita, a
+wreath of mingled laurel and immortelle, and it will bloom eternally.
+
+Ever, and with a thousand greetings to my honoured and admired uncle,
+your
+
+                                    MARGARITA DE SAN REAL MONTFORT.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+IN THE NIGHT.
+
+
+Rita drew a long breath as she folded her letter. She was in a fine glow
+of mingled affection and patriotic fervour; it had been a great relief
+to pour it all out in Margaret's sympathetic ear, though that ear were a
+thousand miles away. Now she really must go to bed. It was one o'clock,
+her watch told her. It seemed wicked, profane, to sleep under such
+moonlight as this; but still, the body must be preserved.
+
+"But first," she said to herself, "I must have a drop of water; writing
+so long has made me thirsty."
+
+She took up the earthen water-jar, but found it empty. Pepe had for once
+been faithless; indeed, neither he nor Manuela had escaped the witchery
+of the full moon, and she had had little good of them that whole
+evening. She glanced at the corner where Manuela lay; the light, regular
+breathing told that the girl was sound asleep. It would be a pity to
+wake her from her first sweet sleep, poor Manuela. A year, perhaps a
+month ago, Rita would not have hesitated an instant; but now she
+murmured, "Sleep, little one! I myself will fetch the water."
+
+She stepped out into the moonlight, with the jar in her hand. All was
+still as sleep itself. No sound or motion from huts or tent. Under the
+palms lay a number of brown bundles, motionless. Dry leaves, piled
+together for burning? no! soldiers of Cuba, wrapped in such covering as
+they could find, taking their rest. Alone, beside a little heap of twigs
+that still smouldered, the sentry sat; his back was turned to her.
+Should she speak to him, and ask him to go to the spring for her? No;
+how much more interesting to go herself! Everything looked so different
+in this magic light; it was a whole new world, the moon's fairyland; who
+knew what wonderful sights might meet her eyes? Besides, her old nurse
+used to say that water drawn from a pure spring under the full moon
+produced a matchless purity of the complexion. Her complexion was well
+enough, perhaps, but still--and anyhow, it would be an adventure,
+however small a one.
+
+The girl's feet, in their soft leather slippers, made no sound on the
+bare earth. The sentry did not turn his head. Silent as a cloud, she
+stole across the little glade, and passed under the trees at the farther
+end. Here the ground broke off suddenly in a rocky pitch, down which one
+scrambled to another valley or glen lying some hundred feet lower; the
+cliff (for it was steep enough to merit that name) was mostly bare rock,
+but here and there a little earth had caught and lodged, and a few
+seeds had dropped, and a tuft of grass or a little tree had sprung up,
+defying the gulf below. A few feet only from the upper level, just below
+a group of palms that nodded over the brink, the stream gushed out from
+the face of the rock, clear and cold. The soldiers had hollowed a little
+trough to receive the trickling stream, and one had only to hold one's
+pitcher under this spout for a few minutes, to have it filled with
+delicious water. Rita had often come hither in the daytime, during the
+week that had now passed since her arrival at the mountain camp. It was
+a wild and picturesque scene at any time, but now the effect of the
+intense white light, falling on splintered rock, hanging tree, and
+glancing stream was magical indeed. Rita lay down on her face at the
+edge of the precipice, as she had seen the soldiers do, and lowered her
+jar carefully. As the water gurgled placidly into the jar, her eyes
+roved here and there, taking in every detail of the marvellous scene
+before her. Never, she thought, had she seen anything so beautiful, so
+unearthly in its loveliness. Peace! silver peace, and silence, the
+silence of--hark! what was that?
+
+A crack, as of a twig breaking; a rustling, far below in the gorge; a
+shuffling sound, as of soft shod feet pressing the soft earth. Rita
+crouched flat to the ground, and, leaning over as far as she dared,
+peered over the precipice. The bottom of the gorge was filled with a
+mass of tall grasses and feathery blossoming shrubs, with here and there
+a tree rising tall and straight. The leaves were black as jet in the
+strong light. Gazing intently, she saw the branches tremble, wave,
+separate; and against the dark leaves shone a gleam of metal, that
+moved, and came nearer. Another and yet another; and now she could see
+the dark faces, and the moon shone on the barrels of the carbines, and
+made them glitter like silver.
+
+Swiftly and noiselessly the girl drew back from the brink, crouching in
+the grass till she reached the shadow of the grove. Then she rose to her
+feet, still holding her jar of water carefully,--for there was no need
+of wasting that,--and ran for her life.
+
+A whispered word to the sentry, who sprang quickly enough from his
+reverie beside the fire; then to the General's tent, then to Carlos,
+with the same whispered message. "The Gringos are here! Wake, for the
+love of Heaven!"
+
+In another moment the little glade was alive with dusky figures,
+springing from their beds of moss and leaves, snatching their arms,
+fumbling for cartridges. The General was already among them. Carlos and
+the other officers came running, buckling their sword-belts, rubbing
+their eyes.
+
+"Where are they?" all were asking in excited whispers. "Who saw them? Is
+it another nightmare of Pepe's?"
+
+"No! no!" murmured Rita. "I saw them, I tell you! I saw their faces in
+the moonlight. I went to get some water. They are climbing up the cliff.
+I did not stop to count, but there must be many of them, from the sound
+of their feet. Oh, make haste, make haste!"
+
+The General gave his orders in a low, emphatic tone. Twenty men, with
+Carlos at their head, glided like shadows across the glade, and
+disappeared among the trees. Rita's breath came quick, and she prepared
+to follow; but the old General laid a kind hand on her arm. "No, my
+child!" he said. "You have done your country a great service this night.
+Do not imperil your life needlessly. Go rather to your room, and pray
+for your brother and for us all."
+
+But prayer was far from Rita's thoughts at that moment. "Dear General,"
+she implored, with clasped hands, the tears starting to her eyes, "Let
+me go! let me go! I implore you! I will pray afterward, I truly will. I
+will pray while I am fighting, if you will only let me go. See! I have
+come all this way to fight for my country; and must I stay away from the
+first battle? Look, dear Senor General! Look at my machete! Isn't it
+beautiful? it is the sword of a hero; I must use it for him. Let me go!"
+The beautiful face, upturned in the moonlight, the dark eyes shining
+through their tears, might have softened a harder heart than that of
+General Sevillo. He opened his lips to reply, his fatherly hand still on
+her arm, when suddenly a sharp report was heard. A single shot, then a
+volley, the shots rattling out, struck back and forth from cliff to
+cliff, multiplying in hideous echoes. Then broke out cries and groans;
+the crash of heavy bodies falling back among the trees below, and shouts
+of "_Viva Cuba_;" and still the shots rang out, and still the echoes
+cracked and snapped. Rita turned pale as death, and clasped her hands
+on her bosom. "_Ah!_ _Dios!_" she cried. "I had forgotten; there will be
+blood!" and rushing into her hut, she flung herself face downward on her
+leafy bed.
+
+The perplexed General looked after her for a moment, pulling his
+grizzled moustache. "_Caramba!_" he muttered. "To understand these
+feminines? Decidedly, this charming child must be sent into safety
+to-morrow." And shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders, he strode
+in the direction of the firing.
+
+Ten minutes' sharp fighting, and the skirmish was over. The Spanish
+"guerilla" was scattered, many of the guerilleros lying dead or wounded
+at the foot of the precipice, the others scrambling and tumbling down as
+best they might. Carlos and his men had so greatly the advantage in
+position, if not in numbers, that not a single Cuban was killed, though
+two or three were more or less seriously wounded. Among these was the
+unfortunate Pedro Valdez, who had only that evening returned to camp,
+having left his child and his old mother in a place of safety. His wife
+had been allowed to remain for a short time in camp, at the request of
+the surgeon, as she had had some experience in nursing. Now he was shot
+in the arm, and his comrades lifted him gently, and carried him back.
+His wife was waiting for him. She seemed to have expected something of
+the kind, for she made no outcry; she followed quietly to the clump of
+trees distant a little way from the rest of the camp, where good Doctor
+Ferrando had the solitary rancho, the case of surgical instruments and
+the few rolls of bandages that constituted his field hospital. A rough
+table had been knocked together for operations; otherwise the sick and
+wounded fared much as the rest did, sleeping on beds of leaves and dry
+grass, and fighting the mosquitoes as best they might. Here the bearers
+laid Pedro down, and Dolores took her place quietly at his side,
+fanning away the insects that hovered in clouds about the wounded man,
+holding the poor arm while the doctor dressed it, and behaving as if her
+life had been spent in a hospital.
+
+Doctor Ferrando spoke a few words of approval, but the woman heeded them
+little; it was a matter of course that where there was suffering, she
+should be at work. So, when Pedro presently dropped off to sleep, she
+moved softly about among the wounded men, smoothing a blanket here,
+changing a ligature there, doing all with light, swift fingers whose
+touch healed instead of hurting.
+
+She was sitting beside a lad, the last to be brought in from the scene
+of the skirmish, when the screen of bushes by the rancho was parted, and
+Rita appeared. Slowly and timidly she drew near; her face was like
+marble; her eyes looked unnaturally large and dark. Dolores made a
+motion to rise, but a gesture bade her keep her place.
+
+"Hush!" said the young girl. "Sit still, Dolores! I have come--to--to
+learn!"
+
+"To learn, senorita?" repeated the woman, humbly. The senorita was in
+her grateful eyes a heaven-descended being, whose every look and word
+must be law; this new bearing amazed and puzzled her.
+
+"What can this poor soul teach the noble and high-born lady?" she asked,
+sadly. "I know nothing, not even to read; I am a poor woman merely. The
+senor doctor is this moment gone to take his distinguished siesta; do I
+call him for the senorita?"
+
+Rita shook her head, and crept nearer, gazing with wide eyes of fear at
+the prostrate form beside which Dolores was sitting.
+
+[Illustration: "'HUSH!' SAID THE YOUNG GIRL. 'SIT STILL.'"]
+
+"See, Dolores!" she said; and her tone was as humble as the woman's own.
+"I must learn--to take care of him--of them!" She nodded at the
+sufferer. "All my life, you see, I could never bear the sight of blood.
+To cut my finger, I fainted at the instant. Always they said, 'Poor
+child! it is her delicacy, her sensibility;' they praised me; I thought
+it a fine thing, to faint, to turn pale at the word even. Now--oh,
+Dolores, do you see? I desire to help my country, my brother, all the
+heroes who are risking their life, are shedding their--their blood--for
+Cuba. I think I can fight; I forget; I see only the bright shining
+blades, the victorious banners; I forget that these heroes must bleed,
+that this horrible blood must flow in streams, in torrents, that oceans
+of it must overwhelm us, the defenders of my country. _Ay de mi!_ I
+begged the General even now to let me fight, to let me stand beside my
+Carlos, and wield my beautiful machete. Suddenly, Dolores--I heard the
+shots; I heard--terrible sounds! screams--oh, Dios!--screams of men,
+perhaps of my own brother, in anguish. All at once it came over me--I
+cannot tell you--I saw it all, the blood, the wounds, the horror to
+death. I awoke from my dreams; I was a child, do you see, Dolores? I
+was a child, playing at war, and thinking--thinking the thoughts of a
+silly, silly child. Now I am awake; now I know--what--what war means.
+So--I am foolish, but I can learn; I think I can learn. You are a brave
+woman; I have been watching you through the leaves for half an hour. I
+saw you--I saw you change those cloths; those terrible bloody cloths on
+that poor man's head. At first my eyes turned round, I saw black only;
+but I opened them again, I fixed them on what you held, I watched. Now I
+can bear quite well to look at it. Help me, Dolores! teach me--to help
+as you help; teach me to care for these brothers, as you do."
+
+Dolores looked earnestly in the beautiful young face. In spite of the
+deadly pallor, she saw that the girl was fully herself, was calm and
+determined. With a simple, noble gesture she lifted Rita's slender hand
+to her lips, saying merely: "This hand shall bring blessing to many!
+come, my senorita, and see! it is so easy, when once one knows the way
+of it."
+
+Very gently the poor peasant's wife showed the rich man's daughter the A
+B C of woman's work among the sick and suffering. At first Rita could do
+little more than control her own nerves, and fight down the faintness
+that came creeping over her at sight of the bandaged faces, ghastly
+under the brown, of the torn flesh and nerveless limbs. Gradually,
+however, she began to gain strength. The rough brown hand moved so
+easily, so lightly; it laid hold of those terrible bandages as if they
+were mere ordinary bits of linen. Surely now, she, Rita, could do that
+too. As Dolores took a cloth from her husband's head, the girl's hand
+was outstretched, took it quietly, and handed a fresh one to the nurse.
+The cloth she took was covered with red stains. For a moment Rita's head
+swam, and the world seemed to turn dark before her eyes; but she held
+the thing firmly, till her sight cleared again; then dropped it in the
+tub of water that stood ready, and taking up the fan of green palm-leaf,
+swept it steadily to and fro, driving the clouds of flies and mosquitoes
+away from the sufferer.
+
+Coming back from his siesta half an hour later, good Doctor Ferrando
+paused a moment at the entrance of the hospital grove. There were two
+nurses now; the good man gazed in astonishment at the slender figure
+kneeling beside one of the rough cots, fanning the wounded man, and
+singing in a low, sweet voice, a song of Cuba. Several of the men were
+awake, and gazing at her with delight. Dolores, with a look of quiet
+happiness on her face, sat beside the bed where her husband was sleeping
+peacefully. "Come!" said the doctor, "war, after all, has its beauty as
+well as its terror. Observe this heavenly sight, you benevolent saints!"
+he waved his cigar upward, inviting the attention of all attendant
+spirits. "Consider this lovely child, awakened to the holiness of
+womanhood! and the General will destroy all this to-morrow, from respect
+for worldly conventions! He is without doubt right; yet, what a pity!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+CAMP SCENE.
+
+
+"If I must, dear Senor General--I will be good, I will, indeed; but my
+heart will break to leave Carlos, and the camp, and you, Senor General."
+
+"My dear child,--my dear young lady, what pleasure for me to keep you
+here! the first sunshine of the war, it came with you, Senorita
+Margarita. Nevertheless, duty is duty; I should be wanting in mine, most
+wofully and wickedly wanting, if I allowed you to remain here, in hourly
+danger, when a few hours could place you in comparative safety. Perfect
+safety, I do not promise. Where shall we find it, even for our nearest
+and dearest, in this poor distracted country? But with Don Annunzio and
+his family you will be safe at least for a time; whereas here--" The
+General looked around, and shrugged his shoulders, spreading his hands
+out with a dramatic gesture. "The Gringos have learned the way to our
+mountain camp; they will not forget it. Another attack may come any
+night; our camp is an outpost, placed of purpose to guard this position,
+which must of necessity be one of danger. To have women with us--it is
+not only exposing them to the terrible possibilities of war, but--"
+
+He paused. "I see!" cried Rita. "I see! you are too kind to say it, but
+we are a burden upon you. We make harder the work; we are an
+encumbrance. Dear Senor General, I go! I fly! Give me half, a quarter of
+an hour, and I am gone. Never, never, will I be in the way of my
+country's defenders; never! Too long we have stayed already; Manuela
+shall make on the instant our packets, and in a little hour you shall
+forget that we were here at all."
+
+The good General cried out, "No! no! my dear child, my dear senorita;
+cease these words, I implore you. You cut me to the heart. Consider the
+help that you have brought to us; consider the nursing, the tender care
+that you and the wife of Valdez have given to our sufferers, in the
+rancho there. Never will this be forgotten, rest assured of that.
+But--it is true that you must go; yet not too soon. This evening, when
+the coolness falls, Don Carlos, with a chosen escort, will conduct you
+to the residence of Don Annunzio. There, I rejoice to think that you
+will find, not luxury, but at least some few of the comforts of ordinary
+life. Here you have suffered; your lofty spirit will not confess it, but
+you have--you must have suffered, delicate and fragile as you are, in
+the rough life of a Cuban camp. Enough! The day is before you, dearest
+senorita. I pray you, while it lasts, make use of me, of all that the
+camp contains, in whatever way you can imagine. I would make the day a
+pleasant one, if I might. Command me, dear senorita, in anything and
+everything. The camp is yours, with all it contains."
+
+He bowed with courtly grace, and Rita courtsied and then turned quickly
+away, to hide the tears that would come in spite of her. It was a keen
+disappointment. When Carlos told her that morning that she must leave
+the camp, she had refused pointblank. A stormy scene followed, in which
+the old Rita was only too much in evidence. She raged, she wept, she
+stamped her little foot. She was a Cuban, as much as he was; she was a
+nurse, a daughter of the army; no human power should drive her from the
+ground where she was prepared to shed her last drop of blood for the
+defenders of her country. Now--a few kind, grave words from a
+gray-haired man, and all was changed. She was not a necessity, she was a
+hindrance; she saw that this must be so; the pain was sharp, but she
+would not show it; she would never again lose her self-control, never.
+Carlos should see that she was no longer a child. He had called her a
+child, not half an hour ago, a naughty child, who was making trouble for
+everybody. Well--Rita stood still; the thought came over her
+suddenly,--it was true! she had been childish, had been naughty. Suppose
+Margaret or Peggy should behave so, stamping and storming; how would it
+seem? Oh, well, that was different. Their blood was cool, almost cold.
+It flowed sluggishly in their veins. She was a child of the South; it
+was not to be expected that she should be like Margaret. Yes! but--the
+thought would come, troubling all her mind; suppose Margaret were here,
+with her calm sense, her cheerful face, and tranquil voice; would not
+she be of more use, of more help, than a girl who could not help
+screaming when she was in a passion?
+
+These thoughts were new to Rita Montfort. Full of them, she walked
+slowly to her hut, with bent head, and eyes full of unshed tears.
+Meanwhile, the good General went back to his tent, where Carlos awaited
+him with some anxiety.
+
+"Well?" he asked, as the gray head bent under the tent-flaps.
+
+"Well," responded his commander. "It is very well, my son. The
+senorita--she is adorable, do you know it? Never have I seen a more
+lovely young person! The senorita is most reasonable. She comprehends;
+she understands the desolation that it is to me to send away so
+delightful a visitor; nevertheless--she accepts all, with her own
+exquisite grace."
+
+Carlos shrugged his shoulders; that same exquisite grace had flashed a
+dagger in his eyes not ten minutes before, vowing that it should be
+sheathed in the owner's heart before she left the camp; but it was not
+necessary to say this to the General. Carlos was an affectionate
+brother, and was honestly relieved and glad to find that Rita had come
+to her senses. He thanked General Sevillo warmly for his good offices,
+and, being off duty, went in search of his sister, determining that he
+would make her last day in camp a pleasant one, so far as lay in his
+power. He found Rita sitting sadly in the door of her hut, watching
+Manuela, who was packing up their belongings, unwillingly enough.
+Manuela had enjoyed her stay in camp greatly, and thought life would be
+very dull, in comparison, at Don Annunzio's cottage; but there was no
+escape, and the white silk blouse and the swansdown wrapper went into
+the bag with all the other fineries.
+
+"Come, Rita," said Carlos, taking his sister's hand affectionately;
+"come with me, and let me show you some things that you have not yet
+seen. You must not forget the camp. Who knows? Some day you may come
+back to pay us a visit."
+
+Rita shook her head, and the tears came to her eyes again; but she drove
+them back bravely, and smiled, and laid her hand in her brother's; and
+they passed out together among the palm-trees.
+
+Manuela looked after them, and laid her hand on her heart; it was a
+gesture that she had often seen her mistress use, and it seemed to her
+infinitely touching and beautiful. "_Ohime_," sighed Manuela. "War is
+terrible, indeed! To think that we must go away, just when we are so
+comfortable. But where, then, is this idiot? Pepe! When I call you, will
+you come, animal? Pepe!"
+
+The thicket near the rancho rustled and shook, and Pepe appeared. This
+young man presented a different figure from the forlorn one that had
+greeted the two girls on their first arrival at the camp. His curly hair
+was now carefully brushed and oiled. The scarlet handkerchief was still
+tied about his head, but it was tied now with a grace that might have
+done credit to the most dandified matador in the Havana ring. His jacket
+was neatly mended; altogether, Pepe was once more a self-respecting,
+even a self-admiring youth. Also, he admired Manuela immensely, and lost
+no opportunity of telling that she was the light of his eyes and the
+flower of his soul. He was now beginning some remarks of this
+description, but Manuela interrupted him, laying her pretty brown hand
+unceremoniously on his lips.
+
+"For once, Pepe, endeavour to possess a small portion of sense," she
+said. "Listen to me! We must leave the camp."
+
+"How then, marrow of my bones! Leave the camp? You and I?"
+
+"I am speaking to a monkey, then, instead of a man? The use, I ask you,
+of addressing intelligent remarks to such a corporosity? My mistress and
+I, simpleton. This General of yours drives us from his quarters; he
+begrudges the morsel we eat, the rude hut that shelters us. Enough! we
+go; even now I make preparation. Pull this strap for me, Pepe; at least
+you have strength. Ah! If I were but a great stupid man, it would be
+well with me this day!"
+
+"But well for no one else, my idol," said Pepe, tugging away at the
+strap. "Desolation and despair for the rest of mankind, Rose of the
+Antilles. Accidental death to this bag! why have you filled it so full?
+There! it is strapped. Manuela, is it possible that I live without you?
+No! I shall fall an easy victim to the first fever that comes; already I
+feel it scorching my--"
+
+"Oh, a paralysis upon you! Can I exercise my thoughts, with the chatter
+of a parrot in my ears? Attend, then, Pepe,--you will miss me a little,
+will you? Just a very little?"
+
+Pepe opened his mouth for new and fiery protestations, but was bidden
+peremptorily to shut it again.
+
+"I desire now to hear myself speak," said Manuela. "I weary, Pepe, for
+the sound of my own poor little voice. Listen, then! These days I have
+been here, and you have never asked me what I brought with me for you;
+brought all that cruel way from the city. I knew I should find you
+somewhere, my good Pepe; or, if not you, some other friend, some other
+good son of Cuba. I thought of you, I remembered you, even in the rush
+of our departure. See! It is yours. May it bring you fortune!"
+
+She handed him a little packet, neatly folded in white paper, and tied
+with a crimson ribbon. Receiving it with dramatic eagerness, Pepe opened
+it and looked with delight at its contents.
+
+"A _detente_!" he cried. "Manuela! and the most beautiful that has been
+seen upon the earth. This is not for me! No! Impossible! The General
+alone is worthy to wear this object of an elegance so resplendent."
+
+Reassured on this point, he proceeded to pin the emblem on his jacket,
+and contemplated it with delighted pride. It was a simple thing enough;
+a square of white flannel the size of an ordinary needlebook, neatly
+scalloped around the edge with white silk. In the centre was embroidered
+a crimson heart, and under it the words, "_Detente! pienso en ti!_" ("Be
+of good cheer! I think of thee!")
+
+"And did you really think of me, Manuela?" cried the delighted Pepe.
+"Did you, bright and gay, in the splendid city, think of the lonely
+soldier?"
+
+"Yes, I did," said Manuela, "when I had nothing else to do. And now you
+may go away, Pepe, I am busy; I cannot attend to you any longer."
+
+"But," said Pepe, bewildered, "you called me, Manuela."
+
+"Yes; to strap my bag. It is done; I thank you. It is finished."
+
+"And--you have given me the _detente_, moon of my soul!"
+
+"Then you cannot complain that I never gave you anything. And now I give
+you one thing more,--leave to depart. _Adios,_ Don Pepe!" and she
+actually shut the door of the hut in the face of her astonished adorer,
+who departed muttering strange things concerning the changeableness of
+all women, and of Manuela in particular.
+
+Meanwhile, Rita and Carlos were wandering about the camp, and Rita was
+seeing, as her brother promised, some things that were new to her, even
+after a stay of nearly a week. She saw the kitchen, or what passed for a
+kitchen,--a pleasant spot under a palm-tree, where the cook was even
+then toasting long strips of meat over the _parilla_, a kind of
+gridiron, made by simply driving four stakes, and laying bits of wood
+across and across them, then lighting a fire beneath.
+
+"But why does it not burn up, your _parilla_?" asked Rita of the long,
+lean, coffee-coloured soldier, picturesque and ragged, who was turning
+the strips with a forked stick.
+
+"Pardon, gracious senorita, it does burn up; not the first time, nor
+perhaps the second, but without doubt the third."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"And then,--it is but to build another. An affair of a moment,
+senorita."
+
+"But does not the meat often fall into the fire when it breaks?"
+
+"Sufficiently often, most noble. What of that? It imparts a flavour of
+its own; one brushes off the ashes--soldiers do not dine at the Hotel
+Royal, one must observe. May I offer the senorita a bit of this
+excellent beef? This has not fallen down at all, or at most but once,
+one little time."
+
+Rita thanked him, but was not hungry. At least she would have a cup of
+_guarapo_, the hospitable cook begged; and he hastened to bring her a
+cup of polished cocoanut shell, filled with the favourite drink, which
+was simply hot water with sugar dissolved in it. Rita took the cup
+graciously, and drank to the health of the camp, and to the freedom of
+Cuba; the cook responded with many bows and profuse thanks for the
+honour she had done him, and the brother and sister passed on.
+
+"There are some good bananas near here," said Carlos; "little red ones,
+the kind you like, Rita. I'll fill a basket for you to take with you;
+Don Annunzio's may not be so good."
+
+They were making their way through a tangle of tall grass and young
+palm-trees, when suddenly Rita stopped, and laid her hand on her
+brother's arm.
+
+"Look!" she said. "Look yonder, Carlos! The grass moves."
+
+"A snake, perhaps," said Carlos; "or a land-crab. Stand here a moment,
+and I will go forward and see."
+
+He advanced, looking keenly at the clump of yellowish grass that Rita
+had pointed out. Certainly, the grass did move. It quivered, waved from
+side to side, then seemed to settle down, as if an invisible hand were
+pulling it from below. Carlos drew his machete, and bent forward;
+whereupon a loud yell was heard, and the clump of grass shot up into the
+air, revealing a black face, and a pair of rolling eyes.
+
+"What is it?" cried Rita, in terror. "Carlos, come back to me! It is a
+devil!"
+
+"Only a scout!" said her brother, laughing. "One of our own men on
+outpost duty. Have peace, Pablo! your hour is not yet come."
+
+"_Caramba!_ I thought it was, my captain!" said the negro scout,
+grinning. "Better be a crab than a Cuban in these days."
+
+He was a singular figure indeed. From head to waist he was literally
+clothed in grass, bunches of it being tied over his head and round his
+neck and shoulders, falling to his thighs. A pair of ragged trousers of
+no particular colour completed his costume. A more perfect disguise
+could not be imagined; indeed, except when he lifted his head, he was
+not to be distinguished from the clumps and tufts of dry grass all about
+him.
+
+"Pablo is a good scout!" said Carlos, approvingly. "No Gringo could
+possibly see you till he stepped on you, Pablo; and then--"
+
+"And then!" said Pablo, grinning from ear to ear; and he drew his
+machete and went through an expressive pantomime which, if carried out,
+would certainly have left very little of Gringo or any one else.
+
+"Is your post near here? show it! The senorita would like to see how a
+Cuban scout lives."
+
+Pablo, a man of few words, gave a pleased nod, and scuttled away through
+the bush, beckoning them to follow. Rita, stepping carefully along,
+holding her brother's hand, kept her eyes on the scout for a few
+moments; then he seemed to melt into the rest of the grass, and was
+gone. A few steps more, and they almost fell over him, as his black face
+popped up again, shaking back its grassy fringes.
+
+"Behold the domicile of Pablo!" he said, with a magnificent gesture.
+"The property, with all it contains, of the senorita and the Senor
+Captain Don Carlos."
+
+Brother and sister tried to look becomingly impressed as they surveyed
+the domain. Close under a waving palm-tree a rag of brown canvas was
+stretched on two sticks laid across upright branches stuck in the
+ground. Under this awning was space for a man to sit, or even to lie
+down, if he did not mind his feet being in the sun. A small iron pot,
+hung on three sticks over some blackened stones, showed where the
+householder did his cooking; a heap of leaves and grass answered for bed
+and pillows; this was the domicile of Pablo.
+
+Breaking a twig from a neighbouring shrub, the scout bent over the pot,
+and speared a plantain, which he offered to Rita with grave courtesy.
+She took it with equal dignity, thanking him with her most gracious
+smile, and ate it daintily, praising its flavour and the perfection of
+its cooking till the good negro's face shone with pleasure.
+
+"And you stay here alone, Pablo?" she asked. "How long? you are not
+afraid? No, of course not that; you are a soldier. But lonely! is it not
+very lonely here, at night above all?"
+
+Pablo spread out his hands. "Senorita, possibly--if it were not for the
+crabs. These good souls--they have the disposition of a Christian!--sit
+with me, in the intervals of their occupations, and are excellent
+company. They cannot talk, but that suits me very well. Then, there is
+always the chance of some one coming by--as to-day, when the Blessed
+Virgin sends the senorita and the Senor Don Carlos. Also at any moment
+the devil may send me a Gringo; their scouts are as plenty as scorpions.
+No, senorita, I am not lonely. It is a fine life! In a prison, you see,
+it would be quite otherwise."
+
+"But there are other ways of living, Pablo, beside scouting and going to
+prison," said Rita, much amused.
+
+"Without doubt! Without doubt!" said Pablo, cheerfully. "And assuredly
+neither would befit the senorita. May she live as happy as she is
+beautiful, the sun being black beside her. _Adios_, senorita; _adios_,
+Senor Captain Don Carlos!"
+
+"_Adios_, good Pablo! good luck to you and your crabs!" and laughing and
+waving a salute, they left the scout nodding his grass-crowned head like
+a transformed mandarin, and went back to the camp.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE PACIFICOS.
+
+
+A long, low adobe house, brilliantly white with plaster; a verandah with
+swinging hammocks; the inevitable green blinds; the inevitable cane and
+banana patch; this was Don Annunzio's. Don Annunzio Carreno himself (to
+give him his full name for once, though he seldom heard or used it) sat
+in a large rocking-chair on the verandah, smoking. He was enormously
+stout and supremely placid, and he looked the picture of peace and
+prosperity, in his spotless white suit and broad-brimmed hat.
+
+To Rita, weary after her ten miles' ride from the camp, the whole place
+seemed a page out of a picture-book. Her mind was filled with rugged and
+startling images: the rude hospital, with its ghastly sights and homely
+though devoted tendance; the ragged soldiers, with head or arm bound in
+bloody bandages; the camp fire and kitchen, the scout in his grassy
+panoply. Her eyes had grown accustomed to sights like these, and the
+bright whiteness of house and householder, the trim array of flower-beds
+and kitchen-garden, struck her as strange and artificial. She felt as if
+Don Annunzio ought to be wound up from behind, and was whimsically
+surprised to see him rise and come forward to meet them.
+
+Carlos made his explanation, and presented General Sevillo's letter. Don
+Annunzio's hat was already in his hand and he was bowing to Rita with
+all the grace his size allowed; but now he implored them to enter the
+house, which he declared he occupied henceforward only at their
+pleasure.
+
+"If the senorita will graciously descend!" said the good man. "On the
+instant I call my wife. Prudencia! Where are you, then? Visitors,
+Prudencia; visitors of distinction. Hasten quickly!"
+
+A woman appeared in the doorway; tall and lean, clad in brown calico,
+with a sun-bonnet to match, but with apron and kerchief as snowy as Don
+Annunzio's "ducks."
+
+"For the land's sake!" said Senora Carreno.
+
+Rita looked up quickly.
+
+"Visitors, my love!" Don Annunzio explained rapidly, in good enough
+English. "The Senor Captain and the Senorita Montfort, bringing a note
+from his Excellency General Sevillo. The senorita will remain with us
+for some days; I have placed all at her disposal; I--"
+
+"There, Noonsey!" said the lady, not unkindly. "You set down, and let me
+see what's goin' on."
+
+She laid a powerful hand on her husband's shoulder, and pushed him into
+his chair again; then advanced to the verandah steps, regarding the
+newcomers with frank but cheerful scrutiny.
+
+"What's all this?" she said. "Good mornin'! Yes, it's a fine day. Won't
+you step in?"
+
+Carlos told his story, and asked permission for his sister and her maid
+to spend some days at the house until some permanent place could be
+found for her.
+
+The senora considered with frowning brows, not of anger but of
+consideration.
+
+"Well," she said, "I did say I wouldn't take no more boarders. I had
+trouble with the last ones, and said I'd got through accommodatin'
+folks. Still--I dunno but we could manage--does she understand when
+she's spoke to--English, I mean?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, I do!" cried Rita, coming forward. "I am only half Cuban;
+it is good to hear you speak. If you will let me stay, I will try to
+give little trouble. May I stay, please?"
+
+"Well, I guess you may!" cried the New England woman. "You walk right in
+and lay off your things, and make yourself to home. The idea! Why didn't
+you say--why, it's as good as a meal o' victuals to hear you speak. Been
+to the States, have you? Well, now, if that don't beat all! Noonsey, you
+go and tell Jose we shall want them chickens for supper. Set down, young
+man! This your hired gal, dear? Does she speak English? Well no, I
+s'pose not."
+
+She said a few words to Manuela in Spanish which, if not melodious, was
+intelligible, and then led Rita into the house, talking all the way.
+
+"Here's the settin'-room; and here's the spare-room off'n it. There! lay
+your things on the bed, dear. I keep on talkin', when all the time I
+want to hear you talk. It is good to hear your native speech, say what
+they will. Husband, he does his best, to please me; but it's like as
+though he was speakin' molasses, some way. Been in the States to
+school, did you say?"
+
+Rita told her story: of her American father, who had always spoken
+English with her and her brother; of the summer spent in the North with
+her uncle and cousins. "Oh," she said, "you are right. I used to think
+that I was two-thirds Cuban; I thought I cared little, little, for the
+American part of me. Now--but it is music to hear you speak, Senora
+Carreno."
+
+"S'pose you call me Marm Prudence!" said the good woman, half-shyly. "I
+don't see as 'twould be any harm, and I should like dretful well to hear
+the name again. I was a widow when I married Don Noonzio. Yes'm. My
+first husband was captain of a fruit schooner. I voyaged with him
+considerable. He died in Santiago, and I never went back home: I
+couldn't seem to. I washed and sewed for families I knew, and then
+bumbye I married Don Noonzio. He gave me a good home, and he's a good
+provider. There's times, though, that I'm terrible homesick. There! I
+don't know what I should do if 'twa'n't for my settin'-room. Did you
+notice it, comin' through? I just go there and set sometimes, and look
+round, and cry. It does me a sight o' good."
+
+Rita had indeed glanced around the sitting-room as she passed through
+it, but it said nothing to her. The six haircloth chairs, the
+marble-topped centre-table with its wool and bead mat, its glass lamp
+with the red wick, its photograph-album and gilt family Bible, did not
+speak her language. Neither did the mantelpiece, with its two china
+poodles and its bunches of dried grasses in vases of red and white
+Bohemian glass. The Cuban girl could not know how eloquent were all
+these things to the exiled Vermont woman; but she looked sympathetic,
+and felt so, her heart warming to the homely soul, with her rugged
+speech and awkward gestures.
+
+Marm Prudence now insisted that her guest must be tired, and brought out
+a superb quilt, powdered with red and blue stars, to tuck her up under;
+but word came that Captain Montfort was going, and Rita hurried out to
+the verandah to bid him farewell. Carlos took her in his arms,
+affectionately. "How is it, then, little sister?" he asked. "Are you
+reconciled at all? Can you stay here in peace a little, with these good
+people?"
+
+Rita returned his caress heartily. "You were right, Carlos!" she said.
+"You and the dear General were both right. It was wonderful to be there
+in camp; I shall never forget it; I hope I shall be better all my life
+for it; but I could not have stayed long, I see that now. Here I shall
+be taken care of; here I shall rest, as under a grandmother's care. This
+good Marm Prudence,--that is what I am to call her, Carlos,--already I
+love her, already she tends me as a bird tends her young. Ah, Carlos,
+you will not neglect Chico? I leave him as a sacred legacy. The men
+implored me so. They said the bird had brought them good fortune once,
+and would be their salvation again; I had not the heart to take him from
+them. You will see that they do not feed him too much? Already he has
+had a fit of illness from too much kindness on the part of our faithful
+soldiers. Thank you! and have no thought of me, my brother; all will be
+well with me. Return to your glorious duty, son of Cuba. It may be that
+even here, in this peaceful spot, it may be given to your Rita to serve
+the mother we both adore. _Adios_, Carlos! Heaven be with thee!"
+
+Carlos, who was of a practical turn of mind, was always uncomfortable
+when Rita spread her rhetorical wings. He did not see why she could not
+speak plain English. But he kissed her affectionately, heartily glad
+that he could leave her content with her surroundings; and with a
+cordial farewell to the good people of the house, he rode away,
+followed by his clanking orderlies, leading the horse Rita had ridden.
+
+While all this had been going on, Manuela had been arranging her
+mistress's things; shaking out the crumpled dresses, brushing off the
+bits of grass and broken straw that clung to hem and ruffle, mementoes
+of the days in camp. Manuela sighed over these relics, and shook her
+head mournfully.
+
+"Poor Pepe!" she said. "If only he does not fall into a fever from
+grief! Ah, love is a terrible thing! _Dios_! what a rent in the
+senorita's serge skirt! A paralysis on the brambles in that place! yet
+it was a good place. At least there was life. One heard voices, neighing
+of horses, jingling of stirrups. Here we shall grow into two young
+cabbages beside that old one, my senorita and her poor Manuela. Ah, life
+is very sad!"
+
+Here Manuela chanced to look out of the window, and saw a handsome
+Creole boy leading a horse to water in the courtyard. Instantly her
+face lighted up. She flew to the looking-glass, and was arranging her
+hair with passionate eagerness, when the door opened, and Rita entered,
+followed by their kind hostess. Manuela started, then turned to drop a
+demure courtsey. "I was examining the glass," she explained, "to see if
+it was fit for the senorita to use. These common mirrors, you
+understand, they draw the countenance this way, that way,--" she
+expressed her meaning in vivid pantomime,--"one thinks one's visage of
+caoutchouc. But this is passable; I assure you, senorita, passable."
+
+"Well, I declare!" said Marm Prudence. "My best looking-glass, that I
+brought from Chelsea, Massachusetts, when I was first married! If it
+ain't good enough for you, young woman, you're free to do without it,
+and so I tell you."
+
+She spoke with some severity, but softened instantly as she turned to
+Rita. "Now you'll lie down and rest you a spell, won't you, dear?" she
+said. "I must go and see about supper, and I sha'n't be satisfied till I
+see you tucked up under my 'Old Glory spread.' That's what I call it; it
+has the colours, you see. There! comfortable? Now you shut your pretty
+eyes, and have a good sleep. And you," she added, turning to Manuela,
+"can come and help me a spell, if you've nothing better to do. I'm
+short-handed; help is turrible skurce in war-time, and I can keep you
+out of Satan's hands, if nothing else."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+IN HIDING.
+
+
+"You busy, Miss Margaritty?"
+
+It was Marm Prudence's voice, and at the sound Rita opened her door
+quickly. She and Manuela had been holding a mournful consultation over
+the state of her wardrobe, which had had rough usage during the past two
+weeks, and she was glad of an interruption.
+
+"I thought mebbe you'd like to come and set with me a spell while I
+worked."
+
+"Oh, yes!" cried Rita, eagerly. "And may I not work, too? Isn't there
+something I can do to help?"
+
+"Why, I should be pleased!" said the good woman. "I'm braidin' hats for
+the soldiers. I promised a dozen to-morrow night. It's pretty work;
+mebbe you'd like to try."
+
+"For the soldiers? For our soldiers? Oh, what joy, Marm Prudencia! No,
+Prudence, you like better that. Show me, please! I burn to begin."
+
+"Why, you're real eager, ain't you?" said Marm Prudence. "Now I'm glad I
+spoke; I thought mebbe 'twould suit you. Young folks like to be at
+something."
+
+In a few minutes the two were seated on the cool inner verandah, looking
+out on the garden, with a great basket between them, heaped with
+delicate strips of palmetto leaf, white and smooth.
+
+"Husband, he whittles 'em for me," Marm Prudence explained. "It's
+occupation for him. Fleshy as he is, he can't get about none too much,
+and this keeps his hands busy. It's hard to be a man and lose the
+activity of your limbs. But there! there's compensations, I always say.
+If Noonsey was as he was ten years ago, he'd be off with the rest, and
+then where'd I be?"
+
+"Then"--Rita's eyes flashed, and she bent nearer her hostess, and spoke
+low. "Then you are not at heart _pacificos_, Marm Prudence. On the
+surface, I understand, I comprehend, it is necessary; but _au fond_, in
+your secret hearts, you are with us; you are Cubans. Is it not so? It
+must be so!"
+
+"Oh, land, yes!" said Marm Prudence, composedly. "I'm an American, you
+see; and husband, he's a Cuban five generations back. We don't have no
+dealin's with the Gringos, more than we're obleeged to. Livin' right
+close t' the road as we do, we can't let out the way we feel, but I
+guess there's mighty few Mambis about here but knows where to come when
+they want things. There ain't many so bold as your brother, to come in
+open daylight, but come night, they're often as thick as bats about the
+garden here. There! I have to shoo' em off sometimes; yet I like to
+have 'em, too."
+
+Rita's face glowed with excitement. "Oh, Marm Prudence," she cried; "how
+glorious! Oh, what fortune, what joy, to be here with you! We will work
+together; we will toil; our blood shall flow in fountains, if it is
+needed. Embrace me, mother of Cuba!"
+
+Marm Prudence put on her spectacles, and surveyed the excited girl with
+some anxiety.
+
+"Let me feel your pult, dear!" she said, soothingly. "You got a touch o'
+sun, like as not, riding in that heat this morning. Now there's no call
+to get worked up, or talk about blood-sheddin'. Blood-sheddin' ain't in
+our line, yours nor mine, nor husband's neither. Fur as doin' goes,
+we're all _pacificos_ here, Miss Margaritty, and you mustn't forget
+that. Just wait a minute, and I'll go and git you a cup of my balm-tea;
+'tis real steadyin' to the nerves, and I expect yours is strung up some
+with all you've be'n through."
+
+Rita protested that she was perfectly well, and not at all excited; but
+she submitted, and drank the balm-tea meekly, as it was cold and
+refreshing.
+
+"It is my ardent nature!" she explained. "It is the fire of my
+patriotism which consumes me. Do you not feel it, Marm Prudence,
+oftentimes, like a flame in your bosom?"
+
+No, Marm Prudence was not aware that she did. Things took folks
+different, she said, placidly. She had an aunt when she was a little
+gal, that used to have spasms reg'lar every time she heard the baker's
+cart. Some thought she had had hopes of the baker before he married a
+widow woman, but you couldn't always account for these things. What a
+pretty braid Rita was getting!
+
+[Illustration: "'WAS SUCH A HAT EVER SEEN IN PARIS?'"]
+
+Indeed, the work suited Rita's nimble fingers to perfection, and yard
+after yard of snowy braid rolled over her lap and grew into a pile at
+her feet. She was eager to make her first hat. After an hour or two
+of braiding, she discovered that it suited Manuela's genius better than
+her own. The basket of splints was turned over to the willing
+handmaiden, and good-natured Marm Prudence showed Rita how to sew the
+braids together smooth and flat, and initiated her into the mysteries of
+crown and brim. In a creditably short space of time, Rita, with infinite
+pride, held her first hat aloft, and twirled it round and round on her
+finger.
+
+"But, it is perfect!" she cried. "The shape, the colour, the air of it.
+Manuela, quick! a mirror! hold it for me--so! look!" She took the ribbon
+from her belt, and began to twist it in one coquettish knot after
+another about the hat, which she had set on her dark hair.
+
+"Is that _chic_? Is it adorable, I ask you? Was such a hat ever seen in
+Paris? Never! I wear no other from this day on; hear me swear it! It
+will become the rage; I will make it so. Or--no! I will keep to myself
+the secret, and others will die of envy. I name it, Manuela. The
+Prudencia, for thee, my kind hostess. Why do you laugh?"
+
+Marm Prudence was twinkling in her quiet way. "I was only thinkin'
+there'd have to be one soldier boy go without his hat to-morrow!" she
+said, good-humouredly. "It does look nice on you, though, Miss
+Margaritty, that's certin."
+
+Blushing scarlet, Rita tore the hat from her head.
+
+"Ah!" she cried, casting it on the floor. "Wretch, ingrate, _serpent_
+that I am! Take away the glass, girl! take it away; break it into a
+thousand pieces, to shame my vanity, and never speak to me of hats
+again. Henceforward I tie a shawl over my head, for the remainder of my
+life; I have said it."
+
+Much depressed, she worked away in silence, as if her life depended upon
+it. Manuela, shrugging her shoulders, carried off the glass, but did
+not think it necessary to obey the injunction to break it. She was used
+to her senorita's outbreaks, and returned placidly to her braiding as if
+nothing had happened.
+
+The good hostess regarded her pretty visitor with some alarm, mingled
+with amusement and admiration. She might have her hands full, she
+thought, if she attempted to keep this young lady occupied, and out of
+mischief. The time when she was asleep was likely to be the most
+peaceful time in Casa Annunzio. Yet how pretty she was! and what a
+pleasure it was to hear her speak, something between a bird and a flute.
+On the whole, Marm Prudence thought her coming a thing to be thankful
+for.
+
+Talking with Don Annunzio himself that evening, Rita found him far less
+guarded than his wife in his expression of patriotic zeal. He echoed her
+saying, that every Mambi in the country knew where to come when he
+wanted anything; and he went on to draw lurid pictures of what he would
+do to the Gringos if he but had the power.
+
+"See, senorita!" he said, in his wheezy, asthmatic voice. "I am
+powerless, am I not? Already of a certain age, I am afflicted with an
+accession of flesh; moreover, I am short of breath, owing to this
+apoplexy of an asthma. Worse than this, my legs, if the senorita can
+pardon the allusion, refuse now these two years to do their office. With
+two sticks, I can hobble about the house and garden; without them,
+behold me a fixture. How, then? When the war breaks out, I go to my
+General, to General Sevillo, under whom I served in the ten years' war.
+I say to him, 'Things are thus and thus with me, but still I would serve
+my country. Give me a horse, and let me ride with you as an orderly.'
+Alas! it may not be. 'Annunzio,' he says, 'your day of service in the
+field is over. Stay at home, and help our men when they call upon you.
+Thus you can do more good ten-fold than you could do in the saddle.'
+
+"_Ohime_! my heart is broken; it is reduced to powder, but what will
+you? reason, joined to authority,--I am but a simple man, and I obey.
+Since then, I sit and whittle splints for my admirable wife. A woman,
+senorita, to rule a nation! The Gringos pass by, and see me working at
+my trade. I greet them civilly, I supply requisitions when backed by
+authority; again, what will you? I suffer in silence till their back is
+turned, and my maledictions accompany them along the road. Ah! if none
+of them had longer life than I wish him, the road would be encumbered
+with corpses. Then,--draw your chair nearer, senorita, if you will have
+the infinite graciousness,--then, at night--it may be this very
+night--the others come. Hush! yes--the Mambis; the sons of Cuba.
+Quietly, by ones, by twos, they appear, dropping from the sky, rising
+from the earth. Then--ha! then, you shall see. Not a word more,
+Senorita Margarita! Donna Prudencia is a pearl, an empress among women,
+but rightly named; she complains that I talk too much on these subjects.
+But when one's heart is in the field, and one's legs refuse to
+follow,--again, what would you? No matter! silence is golden! Wait but a
+little, and you shall see. Who knows? It may be this very night."
+
+Thus Don Annunzio, with many nods and winks, and gestures of dramatic
+caution. His words fanned the flame of Rita's zeal, and she longed for
+one of the promised nocturnal visits. That night and the next she was
+constantly waking, listening for a whisper, the clank of a chain, the
+jingle of a spur; but none came, and the nights passed as peacefully as
+the days. The dozen, and more, were completed; and then, in spite of her
+vow, Rita found time to make one for herself, certainly as pretty a hat
+as heart could desire. So pretty, Rita thought it a thousand pities
+that there was no one beside Don Annunzio and Marm Prudence to see her
+in it. She sighed, and thought of the camp among the hills, of Carlos
+and the General, and Don Uberto.
+
+One day, soon after noon, Marm Prudence asked Rita if she would like to
+take a walk with her. Rita assented eagerly, and put on her pretty hat.
+She looked on with surprise as Marm Prudence proceeded to take from a
+cupboard an ample covered basket, from which protruded the neck of a
+bottle and some plump red bananas.
+
+"Are we going on a picnic, then?" she asked.
+
+The good woman nodded. "You'll see, time enough!" she said. "It's a
+picnic for somebody, if not for us, Miss Margaritty. Look, dear! is Don
+Noonsey out in the ro'd there?"
+
+Don Annunzio was out in the road, having made what was quite a journey
+for him, down the verandah steps, along the garden walk, and across the
+sunny road. He now stood shading his eyes with his hand, looking this
+way and that with anxious glances.
+
+At length, "All is quiet!" he said. "The road is clear, and no sign
+anywhere. Make haste then, _mi alma_, and cross while yet all is safe."
+
+Beckoning to Rita, Marm Prudence slipped out and across the road
+swiftly, not pausing till she had gained the screen of a thick clump of
+cacti. Rita kept close to her side, drinking the mystery like wine. They
+stood for a few moments behind the aloes; then Don Annunzio spoke again.
+
+"All is still perfect, and you may go without fear. Carry my best
+greetings whither you are going. At the proper hour I will await you
+here, and signal when return is safe."
+
+Without wasting words, his wife waved her hand, and turning, plunged
+into the forest, followed by the delighted Rita.
+
+The tangle of underbrush was higher than their heads, but they made
+their way quickly, and Rita soon saw that a narrow path wound along
+through the bush, and that the ground under her feet had been trodden
+many times. The trees towered high above the dense undergrowth, some
+leafy and branching, others, the palms, tossing their single plume
+aloft. Open near the wood, the wood grew thicker and thicker, till it
+stood like a wall on either side of the narrow footpath; the twigs and
+leaves, broken and crushed here and there, showed, like the path, the
+traces of frequent passage.
+
+Rita was burning with curiosity, yet she would not for worlds have asked
+a question. They were nearing every moment the heart of the mystery; she
+would not spoil the dramatic effect by prying into it too soon.
+
+Suddenly, a gleam of sunlight struck through the trees. They were near
+the end of the wood, then. A few steps more, and she caught her breath,
+with a low cry of amazement.
+
+A round hollow, dipping deep like a cup, with here and there a great
+tree standing. On one side, a clear spring flowing from a rocky cleft.
+Under one tree, a hammock slung, and in a hammock a man asleep. Thus
+much Rita saw at the first glance. The next instant the man was on his
+feet, and the long barrel of his carbine gleamed level at sight.
+
+"_Alto! quien va?_" the challenge rang clear and sharp.
+
+"_Cuba!_" replied Senora Carreno. "For the land's sake, Mr. Delmonty,
+don't start a person like that. You'd oughter know my sunbunnit by this
+time."
+
+The young man had already lowered his weapon, and showed a laughing face
+of apology as he lifted his broad-brimmed hat.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Donna Prudencia," he said. "I was asleep, and
+dreaming; not of angels!" he added, as he made another low bow, which
+included Rita in its sweep of respectful courtesy.
+
+He spoke English like an Anglo-Saxon, without trace of accent or
+hesitation. His hair and complexion were brown, but a pair of bright
+blue eyes lightened his face in an extraordinary manner.
+
+Who might this be?
+
+"Mr. Delmonty, let me make ye acquainted with Miss Margaritty Montfort!"
+said Senora Carreno, with some ceremony. "Miss Montfort is stoppin' with
+us for a spell. Both of you bein' half Yankee, I judged you might be
+pleased to meet up with each other."
+
+Rita bowed with her most queenly air; then relaxed, as she met the merry
+glance of the blue eyes.
+
+"Are you?" she said. "I am very glad--but your name is Spanish."
+
+"My father was a Cuban," said the young man; "my mother is American. She
+was a Russell of Claxton." He paused a moment, as if inviting comment;
+but Rita, brought up in Cuba, knew nothing of the Russells of Claxton, a
+famous family.
+
+"I've been in the North most of the time since I was a little shaver,"
+he went on, "at school and college; came down here last year, when
+things seemed to be brewing. Have you been much in Boston, Miss
+Montfort? We might have some acquaintances in common."
+
+Rita shook her head, and told him of her one summer in the North. "I
+hope to go again," she said, "when our country is free. When Cuba has no
+longer need of her daughters, as well as her sons, I shall gladly return
+to that fair northern country."
+
+Again she caught a quizzical glance of the blue eyes, and was reminded,
+she hardly knew why, of her Uncle John. But Uncle John's eyes were
+brown.
+
+"You are--alone here, Senor Delmonte?" she asked, glancing around the
+solitary dell.
+
+"Yes," said the young man, composedly. "I'm in hiding."
+
+Rita's eyes flashed. Hiding! a son of Cuba! skulking about in the woods,
+while his brother soldiers were at the front, or, like Carlos, guarding
+the hill passes! This was indeed being only half a Cuban. She would have
+nothing to do with recreant soldiers; and she turned away with a face of
+cold displeasure.
+
+"How's your foot?" asked Senora Carreno, abruptly. "That last dressing
+fetch it, do you think?"
+
+"All right!" said the young man. "Look! I have my shoe on." And he held
+up one foot with an air of triumph. "I shall be ready for the road
+to-night, and take my troublesome self off your hands, Senora Carreno."
+
+"No trouble at all!" said the good woman, earnestly. "Not a mite of
+trouble but what was pleasure, Captain Jack."
+
+Captain Jack! where had Rita heard that name? Before she could try to
+think, her hostess went on.
+
+"Well, I kinder hate to have you go, but of course you're eager, same as
+all young folks are. But look here! You'd better pass the night with us,
+and let me see to your foot once more, and give you a good night's sleep
+in a Christian bed; and then I can mend up your things a bit, and you
+lay by till night again, and start off easy and comfortable."
+
+"It sounds very delightful," said the young man, with a glance at the
+charming girl who would stand with her head turned away. "But how about
+the Gringos, Donna Prudencia? Supposing some of them should come along
+to-morrow!"
+
+"They won't come to-morrow!" said Marm Prudence, significantly.
+
+"No? you have assurance of that? and why may they not come to-morrow?"
+
+"Because they've come to-day, most likely!"
+
+Rita started, and turned back toward the speakers.
+
+"The Gringos? to-day?" she cried.
+
+Marm Prudence nodded. "That was why I brought you here, dear," she said;
+"most of the reason, that is. We got word they was most likely comin',
+quite a passel of 'em; and we judged it was well, Don Noonsey and me,
+that they shouldn't see you. I thought mebbe," she added, with a sly
+glance at the basket, "that if I brought a little something extry, we
+might get an invitation to take a bite of luncheon, but we don't seem
+to."
+
+"Oh! but who could have supposed that I was to have _all_ the good
+things in the world?" cried Delmonte, merrily. "This is really too good
+to be true. Help me, Donna Prudencia, while I set out the feast! Why,
+this is the great day of the whole campaign."
+
+The two unpacked the basket, with many jests and much laughter; they
+were evidently old friends. Meantime Rita stood by, uncertain of her own
+mood. To miss an experience, possibly terrible, certainly thrilling; to
+have lost an opportunity of declaring herself a daughter of Cuba,
+possibly of shooting a Spaniard for herself, and to have been deceived,
+tricked like a child; this brought her slender brows together,
+ominously, and made her eyes glitter in a way that Manuela would have
+known well. On the other hand--here was a romantic spot, a young
+soldier, apparently craven, but certainly wounded, and very
+good-looking; and here was luncheon, and she was desperately hungry. On
+the whole--
+
+The tragedy queen disappeared, and it was a cheerful though very
+dignified young person who responded gracefully to Delmonte's petition
+that she would do him the favour to be seated at his humble board.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+MANUELA'S OPPORTUNITY.
+
+
+That was a pleasant little meal, under the great plane-tree in the
+cup-shaped dell. Marm Prudence had kept, through all her years of
+foreign residence, her New England touch in cookery, and Senor Delmonte
+declared that it was worth a whole campaign twice over to taste her
+doughnuts. They drank "_Cuba Libre_" in raspberry vinegar that had come
+all the way from Vermont, and Rita was obliged to confess that Senor
+Delmonte was a charming host, and that she was enjoying herself
+extremely.
+
+It was late in the afternoon when she and Marm Prudence took their way
+back through the forest. At first Rita was silent; but as distance
+increased between them and the dell, she could not restrain her
+curiosity.
+
+How was it, she asked, that this young man was there alone, separated
+from his companions? He said he was in hiding. Hiding! a detestable, an
+unworthy word! Why should a son of Cuba be in hiding, she wished to
+know! She had worked herself into a fine glow of indignation again, and
+was ready to believe anything and everything bad about the agreeable
+youth with the blue eyes.
+
+"I must know!" she repeated, dropping her voice to a contralto note that
+she was fond of. "Tell me, Marm Prudence; tell me all! have I broken the
+bread of a recreant?"
+
+"I thought it was my bread," said Marm Prudence, dryly. "I'll tell you,
+if you'll give me a chance, Miss Margaritty. I supposed, though, that
+you'd have heard of Jack Delmonty; Captain Jack, as they call him. Since
+his last raid the Gringos have offered a big reward for him, alive or
+dead. He was wounded in the foot, and thought he might hender his troop
+some if he tried to go with them in that state. So he camped here, and
+we've seen to him as best we could."
+
+Rita was dumb, half with amazement, half with mortification. How was it
+possible that she had been so stupid? Heard of Captain Jack? where were
+her wits? the daring guerrilla leader, the pride of the Cuban bands, the
+terror of all Spaniards in that part of the island. Why, he was one of
+her pet heroes; only--only she had fancied him so utterly different. The
+Captain Jack of her fancy was a gigantic person, with blue-black curls,
+with eyes like wells of black light (she had been fond of this bit of
+description, and often repeated it to herself), a superb moustache, and
+a nose absolutely Grecian, like the Santillo nose of tender memory. This
+half-Yankee stripling, blue-eyed, with a nose that--yes, that actually
+turned up a little, and the merest feather of brown laid on his upper
+lip--how could she or any one suppose this to be the famous cavalry
+leader?
+
+Rita blushed scarlet with distress, as she remembered her bearing, which
+she had tried to make as scornful as was compatible with good manners.
+She had meant, had done her best, to show him that she thought lightly
+of a Cuban soldier who, for what reason soever, proclaimed himself
+without apology to be "in hiding." To be sure, he had not seemed to feel
+the rebuke as she had expected he would. Once or twice she had caught
+that look of Uncle John in his eyes; the laughing, critical, yet kindly
+scrutiny that always made her feel like a little girl, and a silly girl
+at that. Was that what she had seemed to Captain Delmonte? Of course it
+was. She had had the great, the crowning opportunity of her life, of
+doing homage to a real hero (she forgot good General Sevillo, who had
+been a hero in a quiet and business-like way for sixty years), and she
+had lost the opportunity.
+
+It was a very subdued Rita who returned to the house that evening. At
+the edge of the wood they were met by Don Annunzio, who stood as before,
+smoking his long black cigar, and scrutinising the road and the
+surrounding country. A wave of his hand told them that all was well, and
+they stepped quickly across the road, and in another minute were on the
+verandah.
+
+Don Annunzio followed them with an elaborate air of indifference; but
+once seated in his great chair, he began to speak eagerly, gesticulating
+with his cigar.
+
+"_Dios!_ Prudencia, you had an inspiration from heaven this day. What I
+have been through! the sole comfort is that I have lost twenty pounds at
+least, from sheer anxiety. Imagine that you had not been gone an hour,
+when up they ride, the _guerrilla_ that was reported to us yesterday. At
+their head, that pestiferous Col. Diego Moreno. He dismounts, demands
+coffee, bananas, what there is. I go to get them; and, the saints
+aiding me, I meet in the face the pretty Manuela. Another instant, and
+she would have been on the verandah, would have been seen by these
+swine, female curiosity having led her to imagine a necessary errand in
+that direction. I seize this charming child by the shoulders, I push her
+into her room. I tell her, 'Thou hast a dangerous fever. Go to thy bed
+on the instant, it is a matter of thy life.'
+
+"My countenance is such that she obeys without a word. She is an
+admirable creature! Beauty, in the female sex--"
+
+"Do go on, Noonsey," said his wife, good-naturedly, "and never mind
+about beauty now. Land knows we have got other things to think about."
+
+"It is true, it is true, my own!" replied the amiable fat man. "I return
+to the verandah. This man is striding up and down, cutting at my poor
+vines with his apoplexy of a whip. He calls me; I stand before him
+thus, civil but erect.
+
+"'Have you any strangers here, Don Annunzio?'
+
+"'No, Senor Colonel.'
+
+"It is true, senorita. To make a stranger of you, so friendly, so
+gracious--the thought is intolerable.
+
+"He approaches, he regards me fixedly.
+
+"'A young lady, Senorita Montfort, and her maid, escaped from the
+carriage of her stepmother, the honourable Senora Montfort, while on the
+way to the convent of the White Sisters, ten days ago. A man of my
+command was taken by these hill-cats of Mambis, and carried to a camp in
+this neighbourhood. He escaped, and reported to me that a young lady and
+her attendant were in the camp. I raided the place yesterday.'
+
+"'With success, who can doubt?' I said. Civility may be used even to the
+devil, whom this officer strongly resembled.
+
+"He stamped his feet, he ground his teeth, fire flashed from his eyes.
+'They were gone!' he said. 'They had been gone but a few hours, for the
+fires were still burning, but no trace of them was to be found. I found,
+however, in a deserted _rancho_,--this!' and he held up a delicate comb
+of tortoise-shell."
+
+"My side-comb!" cried Rita. "I wondered where I had lost it. Go on,
+pray, Don Annunzio."
+
+"He questioned me again, this colonel, on whom may the saints send a
+lingering disease. I can swear that there is no young lady in the house?
+but assuredly, I can, and do swear it, with all earnestness. He
+whistles, and swears also--in a different manner. He says, 'I must
+search the house. This is an important matter. A large reward is offered
+by the Senora Montfort for the discovery of this young lady.'
+
+"'Search every rat-hole, my colonel,' I reply; 'but first take your
+coffee, which is ready at this moment.'
+
+"In effect, Antonia arrives at the instant with the tray. While she is
+serving him, I find time to slip with the agility of the serpent into
+the passage, and turn the handle of the bedroom door. 'Spotted fever!' I
+cry through the crack; and am back at my post before the colonel could
+see round Antonia's broad back. Good! he drinks his coffee. He devours
+your cakes, my Prudencia, keeping his eye on me all the time, and plying
+me with questions. I tell him all is well with us, except the sickness.
+
+"'How then? what sickness?'
+
+"'A servant is ill with fever,' I say. 'We hope that it will not spread
+through the house; it is a bad time for fever.' I see he does not like
+that, he frowns, he mutters maledictions. I profess myself ready to
+conduct him through my poor premises; I lead him through the parlour,
+which he had not sense to admire, to the kitchen, to our own apartment,
+my cherished one. All the time my heart flutters like a wounded dove. I
+cry in my soul, 'All depends on the wit of that child. If she had but
+gone with Prudencia to the forest!'
+
+"Finally there is no escape, we must pass the door. I stop before it.
+'Open!' says the colonel.
+
+"'Your Excellency will observe,' I say, 'that there is a dangerous case
+of spotted fever in this room.'
+
+"He turns white, then black. He pulls his moustache, which resembles a
+mattress.
+
+"At last 'How do I know?' he cries; 'You may be lying! all Cubans are
+liars. The girl may be in this room!'
+
+[Illustration: "'I THROW OPEN THE DOOR AND STEP BACK, MY HEART IN MY
+MOUTH.'"]
+
+"I throw open the door and step back, my heart in my mouth, my eyes
+flinging themselves into the apartment. Heavens! what do we see? a
+hideous face projects itself from the bed. Red--black--a face from the
+pit! A horrible smell is in our nostrils--we hear groans--enough! The
+colonel staggers back, cursing. I close the door and follow him out to
+the verandah. My own nerves are shaken, I admit it; it was a thing to
+shatter the soul. Still cursing, he mounts his horse, and rides away
+with his troop. I see them go. They carry away the best of what the
+house holds, but what of that? they are gone!
+
+"I hasten, as well as my infirmity allows, to the chamber. I cry
+'Manuela, is it thou?'
+
+"I am bidden to enter. I open the door, and find that admirable child at
+the toilet-table, washing her face and laughing till the tears flow.
+Already half of her pretty face is clean, but half still hideous to
+behold.
+
+"'How did you do it?' I ask her. She laughs more merrily than before; if
+you have noticed, she has a laughter of silver bells, this maiden. 'The
+red lip-salve,' she says, 'and a little ink. Have no fear, Don
+Annunzio; it was you who discovered the fever, you know.'
+
+"'But the smell, my child? there must be something bad here, something
+unhealthy; a vile smell!'
+
+"She laughs again, this child. 'I burned a piece of tortoise-shell,' she
+says. 'Saint Ursula forgive me, it was one of the senorita's side-combs,
+but there was nothing else at hand.'
+
+"Thus then, senorita, thus, my Prudencia, has Manuela virtually saved
+our house and ourselves. Hasten to embrace her! I have already permitted
+myself the salute of a father upon her charming cheek, as simple
+gratitude enjoined it."
+
+As if by magic--could she have been listening in the passage?--Manuela
+appeared, blushing and radiant. Donna Prudencia did not think it
+necessary to kiss her, but she shook her warmly by the hand, telling her
+that she was a good girl, and fit to be a Yankee, a compliment which
+Manuela hardly appreciated. As for Rita, she kissed the girl on both
+cheeks, and stood holding her hands, gazing at her with wistful eyes.
+
+"Ah, Manuela," she cried; "I must not begrudge it to you. You are a
+heroine; you have had the opportunity, and you knew how to take it.
+Daughter of Cuba, your sister blesses you."
+
+Before Manuela could reply, Donna Prudencia broke in. "There! there!"
+she said. "Come down off your high horse, Miss Margaritty, there's a
+dear; and help me to see to things. Here's Captain Delmonty coming
+to-night, and them chicken-thieves of Gringos have carried off every
+living thing there was to eat in the house."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+CAPTAIN JACK.
+
+
+When Jack Delmonte appeared, late in the evening, he was puzzled at the
+change which had come over the pretty Grand Duchess, as he had mentally
+nicknamed Rita. In the afternoon she had appeared, he could not imagine
+why, to regard him as a portion of the scum of the earth. He thought her
+extremely pretty, and full of charm, yet he could not help feeling
+provoked, in spite of his amusement, at the disdainful curl at the
+corners of her mouth when she addressed him. Now, he was equally at a
+loss to understand why or how the Grand Duchess was replaced by a gentle
+and tender-voiced maiden, who looked up at him from under her long
+curved lashes with timid and deprecatory glances. She insisted on
+mixing his _granita_ herself, and brought it in the one valuable cup
+Marm Prudence possessed, a beautiful old bit of Lowestoft. She begged to
+hear from his own lips about his last raid--about all his raids. She had
+heard about some of them; the one where he had swum the river under fire
+to rescue the little lame boy; the other, when he had chased five
+Spaniards for half a mile, with no other weapon than a banana pointed at
+full cock. She even knew of some exploits that he had never heard of;
+and the honest captain found himself blushing under his tan, and finally
+changed the subject by main force. It was very pleasant, of course, to
+have this lovely creature hanging on his words, and supplementing them
+with others of her own, only too extravagantly laudatory; but a fellow
+must tell the truth; and--and after all, what was the meaning of it? She
+wouldn't look at him, three hours ago.
+
+Had they had a gay winter in Havana? he asked. He hadn't been to a dance
+for forty years. Was she fond of dancing? of course she was. What a pity
+they couldn't--here he happened to glance at Rita's black dress, and
+stopped short.
+
+"Miss Montfort, I beg your pardon! It was very stupid of me. I ran on
+without thinking. You are in mourning. What a brute I am!"
+
+The tears had gathered in Rita's eyes, but now she smiled through them.
+"It is six months since my father died," she said. "He was the kindest
+of fathers, though, alas! Spanish in his sympathies."
+
+"Your mother?" hazarded Jack, full of sympathy.
+
+"My mother died three years ago. My stepmother--" then followed the tale
+of her persecution, her escape, and subsequent adventures. Captain Jack
+was delighted with the story.
+
+"Hurrah!" he exclaimed. "That was tremendously plucky, you know, going
+off in that way. That was fine! and you got to your brother all right? I
+wonder--is he--are you any relation of Carlos Montfort? Not his sister?
+You don't mean it. Why, I was at school with Carlos, the first school I
+ever went to. An old priest kept it, in Plaza Nero. Carlos was a good
+fellow, and gave me the biggest licking once--I'm very glad we met, Miss
+Montfort. And--I don't mean to be impertinent, I'm sure you know that;
+but--what are you going to do now?"
+
+Alas! Rita did not know. "I thought I was safe here," she said. "I was
+to stay here with these good people till word came from my uncle in the
+States, or till there was a good escort that might take me to some port
+whence I could sail to New York. Now--I do not know; I begin to tremble,
+Senor Delmonte. To-day, while Donna Prudencia and I were in the forest,
+a Spanish _guerrilla_ came here, looking for me. Don Diego Moreno was in
+command. He is a friend of my stepmother's. I know him, a cold, hateful
+man. If he had found me--" she shuddered.
+
+"I know Diego Moreno, too," said Delmonte; and his brow darkened. "He is
+not fit to look at you, much less to speak to you. Never mind, Miss
+Montfort! don't be afraid; we'll manage somehow. If no better way turns
+up, I'll take you to Puerto Blanco myself. Trouble is, these fellows are
+rather down on me just now; but we'll manage somehow, never fear! Hark!
+what's that?"
+
+He leaned forward, listening intently. A faint sound was heard, hardly
+more than a breathing. Some night-bird, was it? It came from the fringe
+of forest across the road. Again it sounded, two notes, a long and a
+short one, soft and plaintive. A bird, certainly, thought Rita. She
+started as Captain Delmonte imitated the call, repeating it twice.
+
+"Juan," he said, briefly. "Reporting for orders. Here he comes!"
+
+A burly figure crossed the road in three strides. Three more brought him
+to the verandah, where he saluted and stood at attention.
+
+"Well, Juan, where are the rest of you?"
+
+"In the usual place, Senor Captain, four miles from here," said the
+orderly. "I have brought Aquila; he is here in the thicket, my own horse
+also. Will you ride to-night?"
+
+"To-morrow, at daybreak, Juan. I have promised Senora Carreno to sleep
+one night under her roof, and convince her that my foot is entirely
+well. Bring Aquila into the courtyard. All is quiet in the
+neighbourhood?"
+
+"All quiet, Senor Captain. Good; I bring Aquila and return to the troop.
+You will be with us, then, before sunrise?"
+
+"Before sunrise without fail," said Captain Jack. "_Buenos noches,
+Juanito!_"
+
+The trooper saluted again, and slipped back across the road; next moment
+he reappeared leading a long, lean, brown horse, who walked as if he
+were treading on eggshells. They passed into the courtyard and were seen
+no more, Juan making his way back to the thicket by some unseen path.
+
+"You do not stay with us through the day then, Mr. Delmonte? I am
+sorry!" said Rita.
+
+"I wish I could, indeed I do; but I must get to my fellows as soon as
+possible. I shall come back, though, in a day or two, and put myself and
+my troop at your orders, Miss Montfort. How would you like to lead a
+troop, like Madame Hernandez?" He laughed, but Rita's eyes flashed.
+
+"But I would die to do it!" she cried. "Ah! Senor Delmonte, once to
+fight for my country, and then to die--that is my ambition."
+
+"And you'd do it well, I am sure!" said Delmonte, warmly; "the fighting
+part, I mean. But nobody would let you die, Miss Montfort, it would
+spoil the prospect."
+
+He spoke lightly, for heroics embarrassed him, as they did Carlos.
+
+Soon after, Donna Prudencia appeared, with bedroom candles, and stood
+looking benevolently at the two young people.
+
+"I expect you've been having a good visit," she said. "Well, there's an
+end to all, and it's past ten o'clock, Miss Margaritty."
+
+Rita rose with some reluctance; nor did Captain Delmonte seem
+enthusiastic on the subject of going to bed.
+
+"Such a beautiful night!" he said. "Must you go, Miss Montfort? I
+mustn't keep you up, of course. Good-bye, then, for a few days! I shall
+be gone before daybreak. I'm very glad we have met."
+
+They shook hands heartily. Rita somehow did not find words so readily as
+usual. "I too am glad," she said. "It is something--I have always
+wished to meet the 'Star of Horsemen!'"
+
+"Oh, _please_ don't!" cried Jack, in distress. "That was just a joke of
+those idiots of mine. Good gracious! if you go to calling names, Miss
+Montfort, I shall not dare to come back again. Good night!"
+
+It was long before Rita could sleep. She lay with wide-open eyes,
+conjuring up one scene after another, in all of which Captain Delmonte
+played the hero's part, and she the heroine's. He was rescuing her
+single-handed from a regiment of Spaniards; they were galloping together
+at the head of a troop, driving the Gringos like sheep before them. Or,
+he was wounded on the field of battle, and she was kneeling beside him,
+holding water to his lips, and blessing the good Cuban surgeon who had
+taught her bandaging in the camp among the hills. At length, hero and
+heroine, Cuban and Spaniard, faded away, and she slept peacefully.
+
+"What is it? what is the matter?" Rita sprang up in her bed and
+listened. The sound that had awakened her was repeated: a knock at the
+door; a voice, low but imperative; the voice of Jack Delmonte.
+
+"Miss Montfort! are you awake?"
+
+"Yes; what has happened?"
+
+"The Gringos! Dress yourself quickly, and come out. You can dress in the
+dark?"
+
+"Yes; oh, yes! I will come. Manuela! wake! wake! don't speak, but dress
+yourself; the Spaniards are here."
+
+Hastily, with trembling hands, the two girls put on their clothes. No
+thought now of how or what; anything to cover them, and that quickly.
+They hurried out into the passage; Delmonte stood there, carbine in
+hand. He spoke almost in a whisper, yet every word fell clearly on their
+strained ears.
+
+"It's not Moreno; it's Velaya's _guerrilla_: we must get away before
+they fire the house. Give me your hand, Miss Montfort; you will be
+quiet, I know. Your maid?"
+
+"Manuela, you will not speak!"
+
+"No, senorita!" said poor Manuela, with a stifled sob.
+
+"My horse is ready saddled," Delmonte went on. "If I can get you away
+before they see us--"
+
+"Me! but what will become of the others?" cried Rita, under her breath.
+"I cannot desert Manuela and Marm Prudence--Donna Prudencia."
+
+"I am going to save you," said Jack Delmonte, quietly. "If for no other
+reason, I have just given my word to Donna Prudencia. The rest--I'll get
+back as soon as I can, that's all I can say. Follow me! hark!"
+
+A shot rang out; another, and another. A hubbub of voices rose within
+and without the house; and at the same instant a bright light sprang up,
+and they saw each other's faces.
+
+Delmonte ground his teeth. "Wait!" he said; and going a little way along
+the passage, he peered from a window. The verandah swarmed with armed
+men. The door was locked and barred, but they were smashing the
+window-shutters with the butts of their carbines. He glanced along the
+passage. Inside the door stood Don Annunzio, in his vast white pajamas,
+firing composedly through a wicket; beside him his wife, as quietly
+loading and handing him the weapons. Behind them huddled the few house
+and farm servants, negroes for the most part, but among them was one
+intelligent-looking young Creole. Singling him out, Delmonte led him
+apart, and pointed to Manuela. "Your sister!" he said. "Your life for
+hers."
+
+The youth nodded, and beckoned the frightened girl to stand beside him.
+Rita saw no more, for Delmonte, grasping her hand firmly, led her
+through the winding passage and into the inner courtyard. Pausing a
+moment on the verandah, they looked through the archway at one side,
+through which streamed a red glare. The cane patch was on fire, and
+blazing fiercely. The flames tossed and leaped, and in front of them men
+were running with torches, setting fire to sheds and out-houses. Their
+shouts, the crackling and hissing of the flames, the shots and cries
+from the front of the house, turned the quiet night wild with horror. A
+crash behind them told that the front door had yielded.
+
+"It's run for it, now!" said Delmonte, quietly. "Now, then,
+child,--quick!"
+
+A few steps, and they were beside the brown horse, standing saddled and
+bridled, and already quivering and straining to be off. Delmonte lifted
+Rita in his arms,--no time now for courtly mounting,--then sprang to the
+saddle before her. He spoke to the horse, who stood trembling, but made
+no motion to advance.
+
+"Aquila, softly past the gate--then for life! good boy! Miss Montfort,
+put your arms around me, and hold fast. Don't let go unless I drop; then
+try to catch the reins, and give him his head. He knows the way."
+
+Softly, slowly, Aquila crept to the archway. He might have been shod
+with velvet for any sound he made. Could they get away unseen? The men
+with the torches were busy at their horrid work; they could not be seen
+yet from the front of the house. The horse crept forward, silent as a
+phantom. They were clear of the archway. "Now!" whispered Delmonte. "For
+life, Aquila!" and Aquila went, for life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+FOR LIFE.
+
+
+"If we can put the fire between us and them," said Captain Jack, "we
+shall get off."
+
+For a moment it seemed as if they might do it. Already they saw the road
+before them, the sand glowing red in the firelight. A few more
+strides--Just then, a Spanish soldier came running round the corner of
+the burning cane-patch, whirling his blazing torch. He saw them, and
+raised a shout. "_Alerta! alerta!_ fugitives! after them! shoot down the
+Mambi dogs!"
+
+There was a rush to the corner where a score of horses stood tethered to
+the fence. A dozen men leaped into the saddle and came thundering in
+pursuit. Aquila gave one glance back; then stretched his long lean
+neck, and settled into a gallop.
+
+Before them the road lay straight for some distance, red here in the
+crimson light, further on white under a late moon. On one side the woods
+rose black and still, on the other lay open fields crossed here and
+there by barbed wire fences. No living creature was to be seen on the
+road. No sound was heard save the muffled beat of the horse's hoofs on
+the sand, and behind, the shouts and cries of their pursuers. Were they
+growing louder, those shouts? Were they gaining, or was the distance
+between them widening? Rita turned her head once to look back. "I
+wouldn't do that!" said Delmonte, quietly. "Do you mind, Miss Montfort,
+if I swing you round in front of me? Don't be alarmed, Aquila is all
+right."
+
+Before Rita could speak, he had dropped the reins on the horse's neck,
+and lifted her bodily round to the peak of the saddle before him. "I'm
+sorry!" he said, apologetically. "I fear it is very uncomfortable;
+but--I can--a--manage better, don't you see?" But to himself he was
+saying, "Lucky I got that done before the beggars began to shoot. Now
+they may fire all they like. Stupid duffer I was, not to start right."
+
+He had felt the girl's light figure quiver as he lifted her.
+
+"Don't be frightened, Miss Montfort," he said again. "There isn't a
+horse in the country that can touch Aquila when he is roused."
+
+"I am not frightened," said Rita. "I am--excited, I suppose. It is like
+riding on wind, isn't it?"
+
+It was true that she felt no fear; neither did she realise the peril of
+their position. It was one of the dreams come true, that was all. She
+was riding with Delmonte, with the Star of Horsemen. He was saving her
+life. They had ridden so before, often and often; only now--
+
+_Pah!_ a short, sharp report was heard, and a little dust whiffed up on
+the road beside them. _Pah! pah!_ another puff of dust, and splinters
+flew from a tree just beyond them. Aquila twitched his ears and
+stretched his long neck, and they felt the stride quicken under them.
+The road rushed by; they were half-way to the turn.
+
+"Would you like to hold the reins for a bit?" asked Delmonte. "It isn't
+really necessary, but--thanks! that's very nice."
+
+What was he doing? He had turned half round in the saddle; something
+touched her hair--the butt of his carbine. "I _beg_ your pardon!" said
+Captain Jack. "I am very clumsy, I fear."
+
+_Crack!_ went the carbine. Rita's ears rang with the noise; she held the
+reins mechanically, only half-conscious of herself. _Pah! pah!_ and
+again _crack!_ The blue rifle-smoke was in her eyes and nostrils, the
+Mauser bullets pattered like hail on the road; and still Aquila galloped
+on, never turning his head, never slackening his mighty stride, and
+still the road rushed by, and the turn by the hill grew nearer--nearer--
+
+_Pah!_ Rita felt her companion wince. His left arm relaxed its hold and
+dropped at his side. With his right hand he carefully replaced his
+carbine in its sling.
+
+"For life, Aquila!" he said softly, in Spanish; and once more Aquila
+gathered his great limbs under him, and once more the terrible pace
+quickened.
+
+A stone? a hole in the road? who knows? In a moment they were all down,
+horse and riders flung in a heap together. The horse struggled to his
+knees, then fell again. He screamed, an agonising sound, that in Rita's
+excited mind seemed to mingle with the smoke and the dust in a cloud of
+horror. Every moment she expected to feel the iron hoofs crashing into
+her, as the frenzied creature struggled to regain his footing.
+
+Delmonte had sprung clear, and in an instant he was at Rita's side,
+raising her. "You are hurt? no? good! keep behind me, please."
+
+He went to the horse, and tried to lift him, bent to examine him, and
+then shook his head. Aquila would not rise again; his leg was shattered.
+Delmonte straightened himself and looked about him. If this had happened
+a hundred, fifty yards back! but now the woods were gone, and on either
+hand stretched a bare savannah, broken only by the hateful barbed wire
+fences. He drew his revolver quietly. The healthy brown of his face had
+gone gray; his eyes were like blue steel. He looked at Rita, and met her
+eyes fixed on him in a mute anguish of entreaty.
+
+"Have no fear!" he said. "It shall be as it would with my own sister. I
+know these men; they shall not touch you alive."
+
+He bent once more over the struggling beast, and even in his agony
+Aquila knew his master, and turned his eyes lovingly toward him,
+expecting help; and help came.
+
+"Good-bye, lad!" The pistol cracked, and the tortured limbs sank into
+quiet.
+
+"Lie down behind him!" Delmonte commanded. "So! now, still."
+
+He knelt behind the dead horse, facing the advancing Spaniards. The
+revolver cracked again, and the foremost horseman dropped, shot through
+the head. The troop was now close upon them; Rita could see the fierce
+faces, and the gleam of their wolfish teeth. Delmonte fired again, and
+another man dropped, but still the rest came on. There was no help,
+then?
+
+Delmonte looked at Rita; she closed her eyes, expecting death. The air
+was full of cries and curses. But--what other sound was that? Not from
+before, but behind them--round the turn of the road--some one was
+singing! In all the hurry of her flying thoughts Rita steadied herself
+to listen.
+
+        "For it's whoop-la! whoop!
+         Git along, my little dogies;
+         For Wyoming shall be your new home!--
+
+"What in the Rockies is going on here, anyhow?"
+
+Rita turned her head. A horseman had come around the bend, and checked
+his horse, looking at the scene before him. A giant rider on a giant
+horse. The moon shone on his brown uniform, his slouched felt hat, and
+the carbine laid across his saddle-bow. Under the slouched hat looked
+out a bronzed face, grim and bearded, lighted by eyes blue as Delmonte's
+own.
+
+Rita gave one glance. "Help!" she cried, "America, help!"
+
+"America's the place!" said the horseman. He waved his hand to some one
+behind him, then put his horse to the gallop. Next instant he was beside
+them.
+
+Delmonte started to his feet, revolver in hand. "U. S. A.?" he said.
+"You're just in time, uncle. I'm glad to see you."
+
+"Always like to be on time at a party," said the rough rider, levelling
+his carbine. "My fellows are--in short, here they are!"
+
+There was a scurry of hoofs, a shout, and thirty horsemen swept around
+the curve and came racing up.
+
+"What's up, Cap'n Jim?" cried one. "Have we lost the fun? Gringos, eh?
+hooray!"
+
+The Spaniards had checked their horses. Four of them lay dead in the
+road, and several others were wounded. At sight of the mounted troop,
+they stopped and held a hurried consultation, then turned their horses
+and rode away.
+
+The giant looked at Delmonte. "Want to follow?" he asked. "This is your
+hand, comrade."
+
+"I want a horse!" said Captain Jack. "Miss Montfort,"--he turned to
+Rita, who had risen to her feet, and stood pale but quiet,--"these are
+our own good country-men. If I leave you with them but a few moments--"
+
+"Hold on!" said the big man. "What did you call the young lady?"
+
+Delmonte stared. "This is Miss Montfort," he said, rather formally.
+
+"Not Rita!" cried the giant. "Pike's Peak and Glory Gulch! Don't tell me
+it's Rita!"
+
+"Oh, yes! yes!" cried Rita, running forward with outstretched hands. "It
+is--I am! and you--oh, I know, I know. You are Peggy's big brother. You
+are Cousin Jim!"
+
+"That's what they said when they christened me!" said Cousin Jim.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+MEETINGS AND GREETINGS.
+
+
+It was no time for explanations. Jim Montfort put out a hand like a pine
+knot, and gave Rita's fingers a huge shake.
+
+"Glad to find you, cousin," he said. "I've been looking for you. Now,
+what's up over there?" He nodded in the direction of the fire.
+
+"A _candela_," said Delmonte, briefly. "I must get back; there are women
+there. If one of your men will catch me that horse--"
+
+"But you are wounded!" cried Rita. "Cousin, he is shot in the arm. Do
+not let him go!"
+
+Delmonte laughed. "It's nothing, Miss Montfort," he said; "but nothing
+at all, I assure you. When we get to camp you shall put some carbolic
+acid on it, and tie it up for me; that's field practice in Cuba. I shall
+be proud to be your first field patient." He spoke in his usual laughing
+way; but suddenly his face changed, and he leaned toward her swiftly,
+his hand on the horse's mane. "I shall never forget this time--our ride
+together," he said. "I hope you will not forget either--please? And now,
+Miss Montfort, I have no further right over you. I would have done my
+best, I think you know that; but--I must give you into your cousin's
+protection. You will remain here?"
+
+"Of course she will!" said Cousin Jim, who had heard only the last
+words. "I'll go with you, comrade. Raynham, Morton, you will mount guard
+by the lady."
+
+The troopers saluted, and raised their hats civilly to Rita, inwardly
+cursing their luck. Because they owned the next ranch to Jim Montfort,
+was that any reason why they should lose all the fun? and why could not
+girls stay at home where they belonged?
+
+But Rita herself cried out and clasped her hands, and ran to her cousin.
+"Oh, Cousin Jim--Senor Delmonte--let me go with you! Please, please let
+me go back. My poor Manuela--Marm Prudence--they may be hurt, wounded.
+There can be no danger with all these brave men. Cousin, I have been in
+a camp hospital, I know how to dress wounds. I can be quiet--Senor
+Delmonte, tell him I can be quiet!"
+
+She looked eagerly at Delmonte.
+
+"I can tell him that you are the bravest girl I ever saw," he said.
+"But, you have been through a great deal. I don't like to have you go
+back among those rascals."
+
+James Montfort stroked his brown beard thoughtfully.
+
+"Guess it's safe enough," he said at last. "Guess there's enough of us
+to handle 'em. Don't know but on the whole she'll be better off with
+us. My sister Peggy wouldn't like to miss any circus there was going,
+would she, little girl? Catch another of those beasts for the lady,
+Bill!"
+
+Rita, with one of her quick gestures, caught his great hand in both
+hers. "Oh, you good cousin!" she cried. "You dear cousin! You are the
+very best and the very biggest person in the world, and I love you."
+
+"Well, well, well!" said Cousin Jim, somewhat embarrassed. "There,
+there! so you shall, my dear; so you shall. But as for being big, you
+should see Lanky 'Liph of Bone Gulch. Now there--but here is your horse,
+missy."
+
+The horses of the dead Spaniards had been circling about them, more or
+less shyly. Two of them were quickly caught by the rough riders, and
+Rita and Delmonte mounted. As they did so, both glanced toward the spot
+where lay the brave horse that had borne them so well.
+
+"It was for life indeed, Aquila!" said Captain Jack, softly. His eyes
+met Rita's, and she saw the brightness of tears in them. Next moment
+they were galloping back to the _residencia_.
+
+They came only just in time. Not ten minutes had passed since they left
+the courtyard, but in that time the savage Spaniards had done their work
+well. The house itself was in flames, and burning fiercely. Good Don
+Annunzio lay dead, carbine in hand, on the steps of his ruined home.
+Beside him lay the Creole youth in whose charge Delmonte had left
+Manuela. The lad was still alive, for as Delmonte bent from the saddle
+above him he raised his head.
+
+"I did my best, my captain!" he said. "They were too many."
+
+"Where are they?" asked Delmonte and Montfort in one breath.
+
+The boy pointed down the road; raised his hand to salute, and fell back,
+dead.
+
+[Illustration: "NOW AGAIN IT WAS A RIDE FOR LIFE."]
+
+Now again it was a ride for life--not their own life this time. Rita had
+clean forgotten herself. The thought of her faithful friend and servant
+in the hands of the merciless Spaniards turned her quick blood to fire.
+She galloped steadily, her eyes fixed on the cloud of dust only a few
+hundred yards ahead of them, which told where the enemy was galloping,
+too.
+
+Jim Montfort glanced at her, and nodded to himself. "She'll do!" he said
+in his beard. "Montfort grit's good grit, and she's got it. This would
+be nuts to little Peggy."
+
+Jack Delmonte, too, looked more than once at the slender figure riding
+so lightly between him and the big rough rider. How beautiful she was!
+He had not realised half how beautiful till now. What nerve! what
+steadiness! It might be the _Reina de Cuba_, Donna Hernandez herself,
+riding to victory.
+
+He felt an unreasonable jealousy of "Cousin Jim." Half--nay! a quarter
+of an hour ago, she was riding with him; there were only they two in
+the world, they and Aquila, poor Aquila,--who had given his life for
+theirs. She was his comrade then, his charge, his--and now she was Miss
+Montfort, a young lady of fortune and position, under charge of her
+cousin, a Yankee captain of rough riders; and he, Jack Delmonte,
+was--nothing in particular.
+
+As he was thinking these thoughts, Rita chanced to turn her head, and
+met his gaze fixed earnestly upon her. She blushed suddenly and deeply,
+the lovely colour rising in a wave over cheeks and forehead; then turned
+her head sharply away.
+
+"Now I have offended her!" said Jack. "Idiot!" and perhaps he was not
+very wise.
+
+But there was little time for thinking or blushing. The Spaniards,
+seeing Delmonte, whom they regarded as the devil in person, descending
+upon them in company with a giant and an army (for so they described
+the band of rough riders at headquarters next day), abandoned their
+prisoners. The Americans chased them for a mile or so, killed three or
+four, and, as they reported, "scared the rest into Kingdom Come,"
+leaving them only on coming to a thick wood, into which the Gringos,
+leaping from their horses, vanished, and were seen no more. The victors
+then returned to the forlorn little group of women and negroes, huddled
+together by the roadside. Rita had already dismounted, and had Manuela
+in her arms. She felt her all over, hurrying question upon question.
+
+"My child, you are not hurt? not wounded? these ruffians--did they dare
+to touch you? did they have the audacity to speak to you, Manuela? Oh,
+why did I leave you? I could not help it; you saw I could not help it.
+You are _sure_ you have no hurt?"
+
+"But, positively, senorita," said Manuela. "See! not a scratch is on me.
+They--one fellow--offered to tie my hands; I scratched him so well that
+he ran away. I am safe, safe--praise be to all saints, to our Holy Lady,
+and the Senor Delmonte. But--poor Cerito, senorita? what of him? he was
+with us; he fought like a lion. I saw him fall--"
+
+"Poor Cerito!" said Rita, gravely. "He was a brave, brave lad. A
+thousand sons to Cuba like him!"
+
+Donna Prudencia was sitting apart on a stone by the roadside. Rita went
+up to her, took her hand, and kissed her cheek. The Yankee woman looked
+kindly at her and nodded comprehension, but did not speak. Rita stood
+silent for a few minutes, timidly stroking the brown cheek and white
+hair. Her cousin Margaret came into her mind. What would Margaret say,
+if she were here? She would know the right word, she always did.
+
+"Marm Prudence," she said, presently, "to have the memory of a hero, of
+one who dies for his country,--that is something, is it not? some
+little comfort?"
+
+Marm Prudence did not answer at once.
+
+"Mebbe so," she said, presently. "Mebbe so, Miss Margaritty. Noonzio was
+a good man. Yes'm, I've lost a good husband and a good home! A good
+husband and a good home!" she repeated. "That's all there is to it, I
+expect." Her rugged face was disturbed for a moment, and she hid it in
+her hands; when she looked up, she was her own composed self.
+
+"And what's the next thing?" she asked. "Thank you, Cap'n Delmonty, I'm
+feeling first-rate. Don't you fret about me. You done all you could.
+I'll never forget what you done. Poor husband's last words before he was
+shot was thanking the Lord Miss Margaritty was off safe. We knew we
+could trust her with you."
+
+"Indeed," said honest Delmonte, "it is not me you must thank, Donna
+Prudencia. I did what I could, but it was Captain Montfort and his men
+who saved both her life and mine."
+
+He told the story briefly, and Marm Prudence listened with interest.
+"Well," she said, "that was pretty close, wasn't it? Anyway, you done
+all you could, Cap'n Jack, and nobody can't do no more. And he's Miss
+Margaritty's cousin, you say? I want to know! He's big enough for three,
+ain't he?"
+
+Rita laughed, in spite of herself. She beckoned to Cousin Jim, who came
+up and shook hands with the widow with grave sympathy. But he seemed
+preoccupied, and, while they were preparing to return to the ruined
+farm, he was pulling his big beard and meditating with a puzzled air.
+
+"Look here!" he broke out at last, addressing his men. "I've been
+wondering what was wrong. I couldn't seem to round up, somehow, and now
+I've got it. Where's that poor old Johnny? I left him with you when I
+rode forward to reconnoitre."
+
+The rough riders looked at one another, and hung their heads.
+
+"Guess he must have dropped behind," said Raynham. "We didn't wait long
+after you signalled to us to come on. We--came."
+
+"That's so!" clamoured the rough riders, in sheepish chorus. "We came,
+Cap'n Jim. That's a fact!"
+
+"Well--that's all right!" said Jim. "You might have brought the old
+Johnny along, though, seems to me. Two of you ride back and get him;
+you, Bill, and Juckins. If he seems used up, Juckins can carry him, pony
+and all."
+
+Juckins, a huge Californian, second only to Montfort in stature,
+chuckled, and rode off with Raynham at a hand gallop.
+
+Montfort turned to Rita.
+
+"I haven't had time to tell you about it before," he said. "Cousin Rita,
+I've been hunting for you for three days. We met an old Johnny--an old
+gentleman, I should say--riding about on a pony, for all the world like
+Yankee Doodle. He'd got lost, poor old duffer, among these inferior
+crossroads, and didn't know whether he was in China or Oklahoma. We
+picked him up, and, riding along, it came out that he was searching for
+his ward, a young lady who had run away from a convent. Ever heard of
+such a person, missy? He had started out alone, to ride about Cuba till
+he found her. Kind of pocket Don Quixote, about five foot high, white
+hair, silk clothes; highly respectable Johnny."
+
+"Don Miguel!" cried Rita. "Poor, dear, good Don Miguel! I have never
+written to him, wicked that I am. Oh, where is he, Cousin Jim?"
+
+"Come to ask him," Jim continued, "it appeared that the young lady's
+name was Montfort. Now, I had just had a letter from Uncle John,
+wanting me to raise the island to get hold of you and ship you North at
+once. He had had no letters; was alarmed, you understand. Laid up with a
+bad knee, or would have come himself. I was just going to start back to
+the city in search of you, when up comes Don Quixote. When he heard I
+was your cousin, he fell into my arms, pony and all. Give you my word he
+did! Almost lost him in my waistcoat pocket. I cheered him up a bit, and
+we've been poking about together these three days, looking for General
+Sevillo's camp. Thought you might be there. We were camping by the
+roadside when we heard your firing. Ah! here he comes now!"
+
+The rough riders came back, their horses trotting now, instead of
+galloping. Between them, ambling gently along, was a piebald pony of
+amiable appearance, and on the pony sat a little old gentleman with
+snow-white hair and a face as mild and gentle as the pony's own. At
+sight of Rita running to meet him, he uttered a cry of joy, and checked
+his horse. Next moment he had dismounted, and had her in his arms,
+sobbing like a child.
+
+"Dear Donito Miguelito!" cried Rita. "Forgive me! please do forgive me,
+for frightening you. I could not go to the convent, indeed I could not.
+I am a wretch to have treated you so, but I could not go to that place."
+
+"Of course you could not, my child," said the good old man. "_Nunc
+dimittis_, Domine! Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace. Of
+course you could not."
+
+"I could not live with Concepcion; don't you know I could not, Donito
+Miguelito?"
+
+"The thought is impossible, my Pearl. Speaking with all possible
+respect, the Senora Montfort, though high-born and accomplished, is a
+hysterical wildcat. You did well, my child; you did extremely well. So
+long as I have found you, nothing matters; but, nothing at all. As my
+great, my gigantic friend, my colossal preserver, el Capitan Gimmo,
+says, 'Ourrah for oz!'"
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted the rough riders.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+ANOTHER CAMP.
+
+
+They made but a brief halt at the ruined farm. The house was completely
+gutted; the widow of Don Annunzio had the clothes she stood in, and
+nothing beside. She stood quietly by while her husband's body was laid
+in the grave beside that of young Cerito; a shallow grave, hastily dug
+in what had lately been the garden. She listened with the same quiet
+face while good old Don Miguel, with faltering voice, recited a Latin
+prayer. She was a Methodist, he a fervent Catholic; but it mattered
+little at that moment.
+
+By this time it was daylight. A small patch of bananas was found, that
+had escaped the destroying torch, and on these the party made a hasty
+meal; then they rode away, all save the negroes, who preferred to stay
+in the neighbourhood where their lives had been spent.
+
+They rode slowly, in deference to Don Miguel's age and that of his pony.
+Rita, riding beside the good old man, listened to the recital of his
+terrors and anxieties from the time her flight was discovered to the
+present moment. These caused her real grief, and she begged again and
+again for the forgiveness which he assured her was wholly unnecessary.
+But when he described the hysterical rage of her stepmother, her eyes
+brightened, and the colour came back to her pale cheek. She had no doubt
+that Concepcion Montfort was sorry to lose her; the larger part of her
+father's fortune had been settled upon her, Rita, before his second
+marriage.
+
+"The senora also has made diligent search for you, my child!" said Don
+Miguel. "She has offered ample rewards--"
+
+"I know it!" said Rita. "Only yesterday--can it be that it was only
+yesterday?--Don Diego Moreno was here--there, I should say, at that
+peaceful home that is now a heap of ashes. These Spaniards!"
+
+Had she seen Don Diego? the old man asked; and he seemed relieved when
+she answered in the negative.
+
+"It is well; it is well!" he said. "He is a relative of the senora's, I
+am aware; but it would have been unsuitable, most unsuitable."
+
+"What would have been unsuitable, Donito Miguelito?"
+
+Don Miguel looked confused. "A--nothing, my child. The Senora Montfort
+had an idea--Don Diego made certain advances--in short, he would have
+asked for your hand, my senorita--well, my Margarita, if you will have
+it so. But I took it upon myself to refuse these overtures without
+consulting you."
+
+Rita heard a low exclamation, and turning, saw Delmonte's face like
+dark fire beside her.
+
+"I beg your pardon!" he said. "I could not help hearing. Don Miguel, if
+Diego Moreno makes any more such proposals, kindly let me know, and I'll
+shoot him at sight."
+
+"I--thank you! thank you, my son!" said Don Miguel, somewhat fluttered.
+"I hope no violence will be necessary. I used strong language, very
+strong language, to Don Diego Moreno. I--I told him that I considered
+him a person entirely objectionable, unfit to sweep the road before the
+Senorita Montfort's feet. He went away very angry. I thought we should
+hear no more of him; but it seems that he still retains his presumptuous
+idea. Without doubt, it will be best, my dear child, for you to seek the
+northern home of your family without delay."
+
+Why, at this obviously sensible remark, should Rita feel a sinking at
+the heart, and a sudden anger against her dear old friend? And again,
+why, on stealing a glance at Delmonte, and seeing the trouble reflected
+in his face, should her heart as suddenly spring up again, and dance
+within her? What had happened?
+
+They had ridden some miles, when Jim Montfort, on his big gray horse,
+ranged alongside of Delmonte.
+
+"It appears to me," he said, "that something is going on in these woods
+here. I've seen two or three bits of brown that weren't bark, and if I
+didn't catch the shine of a gun-barrel just now, you may call me a
+Dutchman. I think I'll fire, and see what happens."
+
+"No, don't do that!" said Delmonte, quietly. "It's only my fellows.
+They've been keeping alongside for the last half-mile, waiting for a
+signal. They might as well come out now."
+
+He gave a low call in two notes; the call Rita had heard--was it only
+the night before? it seemed as if a week had passed since then.
+
+The call was answered from the wood; and as if by magic, from every
+tree, from every clump of bushes, came stealing lean brown figures,
+leading equally lean horses, all armed and on the alert. They saluted,
+and, at a word from the burly Juan, fell into order with the precision
+of a troop on drill.
+
+"What's all this, Juan?" asked Delmonte. "No order was given."
+
+Juan replied with submission that a negro boy had brought news an hour
+ago that Don Annunzio's house had been burned, he and his whole
+household murdered, and their captain taken prisoner; and that the
+latter was being brought in irons along the road to Santiago. They, Juan
+and the rest, had planned a rescue, and disposed themselves to that end
+in the most advantageous manner. That they were about to fire, when they
+recognised their captain's escort as Americans; and that they then
+resolved to accompany the party as quietly as might be till they came
+near the camp, and then make their presence known to all, as they had at
+once made it known to Delmonte himself by a low call which only he had
+noticed.
+
+"Not wishing to intrude," Juan concluded, with a superb salute.
+
+Delmonte turned to his companions. "Miss Montfort," he said, "Captain
+Montfort--you'll all come up to my place, of course, and rest, for
+to-day, at least. It isn't much of a place to ask you to, but--it's
+quiet, at least, and--you can rest; and you must be half-starved. I know
+I am."
+
+His face was eager as a boy's. Rita's was not less so, as she gazed at
+the big cousin, who stroked his beard as usual, and reflected.
+
+"I did mean to push straight on to Santiago," he said, "but--it's a good
+bit of a way, to be sure; what do you say, little cousin? tired? hey?"
+
+Rita blushed. "A--a little tired, Cousin Jim; and _very_ hungry!"
+
+This settled it. Captain Montfort bid Delmonte "fire away." The latter
+said a few rapid words to Juan, and the scout shot off like an arrow
+across the fields, riding as if for his life.
+
+An hour later, the whole party was seated around a fire, in as
+comfortable a nook of the hills as guerilla leader could desire, sipping
+coffee, and eating broiled chicken and fried bananas, fresh from the
+_parilla_. The fire was built against a great rock that rose abruptly
+from the dell, forming one side of it, and towering so high that the
+smoke disappeared before it reached the top. Thick woods framed the
+other sides of the natural fastness, and here the Cuban riders could lie
+hidden for days and weeks, unsuspected, unseen, save by the wandering
+birds that now and then circled above their heads. No tents or huts
+here; the horses were tethered to trees; the commander's hammock was
+swung in a shady thicket near the great rock; as for his men, a ragged
+blanket and the "soft side of a stone" were all they asked.
+
+Rita had dressed Captain Delmonte's wound, and bandaged the arm in
+approved style, Cousin Jim looking on with grunts of approval. He and
+Delmonte himself both assured her that, if they were handling it, they
+should simply squirt carbolic acid into it, and tie it up with anything
+that came handy; but Rita shook her head gravely, and three of her
+delicate handkerchiefs, brought from the long-suffering bag which
+Manuela had somehow managed to save from the ruins, torn into strips,
+made a very sufficient bandage. The wound was, in truth, slight.
+Delmonte looked almost as if he wished it more severe, for the whole
+matter of bathing and dressing could not be stretched beyond ten
+minutes; but Rita's pride in her neat bandage was pretty to see, and he
+watched her with delighted eyes through every stage.
+
+"Snug quarters!" said Jim Montfort, approvingly, as, the breakfast over,
+he stretched his huge length along the grass and looked about him; and
+all the party echoed his opinion. The two captains fell into talk of the
+war and its ways, while the women, wearied out, rested after their long
+night of distress and fatigue. Marm Prudence chose the dry grass, with a
+cloak for a pillow, but Rita curled herself thankfully in Captain Jack's
+hammock, after trying in vain to persuade him that he was an invalid,
+and ought to take it himself. After some rummaging in a hole in the rock
+which served him for cupboard and wardrobe, Delmonte brought her a small
+pillow in a somewhat weather-beaten cover. "I wish I had a better one,"
+he said. "This has been out in the rain a good deal, and I'm afraid it
+smells of smoke, but it's a great pillow for sleeping on."
+
+"Oh, thank you!" said Rita. "It is very comfortable indeed. How good you
+are to me, Captain Delmonte. And whatever you may say, it is a great
+shame for me to take your own hammock. If there were only another--"
+
+"Oh, please don't!" said Jack. "It's really--you must not talk so, Miss
+Montfort. As if there was anything I wouldn't do--why, this hammock will
+never be the same again. I--I mean--oh, you know what I mean, and I
+never could make pretty speeches. But--it is a pleasure, and--an honour,
+to have you here; and you can't think how much it means to me. Good
+night! I mean--sleep well."
+
+He added a few words of a German song relative to the desirability of a
+certain lovely angel's slumbering sweetly. Rita did not understand
+German, but the tone of Delmonte's voice was in no particular language,
+and, tired as she was, it was some time before she went to sleep.
+
+It was late afternoon when they took the road again. Before starting
+they held a council, seated together beneath the great tree, under whose
+shade Rita had slept peacefully for several hours. Jim Montfort was the
+first speaker.
+
+"I take it," he said, "we'd better, each one of us, say what we mean to
+do. Then the sky will be clear, and we can fit in or shake apart, as
+seems best in each case. We all ride together to Pine del Rio, as
+Captain Delmonte is so friendly as to ride with us. After that--I'll
+begin with you, ma'am." He addressed, the widow respectfully. "How can I
+best serve you? I am going to see my cousin safe off, and you must call
+upon me for any service I can possibly render you."
+
+"She will stay with me!" cried Rita. "Dear Marm Prudence, you will stay
+with me, will you not?"
+
+Marm Prudence shook her head, though with a look of infinite kindliness.
+"Thank you, dear," she said; "it's like you to say it, but I'm going
+home to Greenvale, Vermont. I've a sister living there yet. I'll go back
+to my own folks at last, and lay my bones alongside o' mother's. I'll
+never forgit you, though, Miss Margaritty," she added, "nor you, Cap'n
+Jack. There! I can't say much yet."
+
+She turned away, and all were silent for a moment, as she wiped the
+tears from her rugged face.
+
+"You go straight home, I suppose, sir?" said Jim, addressing Don Miguel.
+
+"Yes, yes!" cried the little gentleman. "I go to Pine del Rio with my
+dear ward here. To see her safe on board a good vessel, bound for the
+North; to say farewell to the joy of my old days, and put out the light
+of my eyes--that is my one sad desire, Senor Montfort. After that--I am
+old, I have but a short time left, and my prayers will require that."
+
+"Well, then, it seems as if the first thing on all hands was to find a
+steamer sailing for home," said Jim. "If Mrs. Annunzio will take charge
+of you, Cousin Rita, I think that will be the best thing. Uncle John
+will send some one to meet you in New York and take you to Fernley. How
+does that suit you?"
+
+Rita was silent. She had grown very pale. Delmonte looked at her
+eagerly, but did not speak.
+
+"What do you say, little cousin?" repeated Montfort. "You have a mind of
+your own, and a pretty decided one, if I'm not mistaken. Let's hear it!"
+
+Rita spoke slowly and with difficulty, her ready flow of speech lacking
+for once.
+
+"Cousin Jim--dear Don Miguel--you are both so kind, so good. You too,
+Marm Prudence. I love the North. I love my dear uncle and cousin--ah,
+how dearly!--but--I do not want to go to Fernley."
+
+"Not want to go!" repeated the others.
+
+"No! indeed, indeed, I cannot go. I have been thinking, Cousin Jim, a
+great deal, while all these things have been happening; these wonderful,
+terrible things. I--I ought to have learned a great deal; I hope I have
+learned a little. I have talked enough about helping my country; too
+much I have talked; now I want to do something. I am going to work in
+one of the hospitals. Nurses are needed, I know, every day more of them.
+I do not know enough--yet--to be a nurse, but I can be a helper. I am
+very humble; I will do the meanest work, but--but that is what I mean to
+do."
+
+She ceased, and all the others, looking in her face, saw it bright and
+lovely with earnest resolve. But Don Miguel cried out in expostulation.
+It was impossible, he said. It could not be. She was too young, too
+delicate, too--the proposition was monstrous. He appealed to Captain
+Montfort to support him, to exercise his authority, to persuade this
+dear child that the noble idea which filled her young and ardent heart
+was wholly impracticable.
+
+Jim Montfort was silent for a time, looking at Rita from under his heavy
+eyebrows. Presently--"You mean it?" he said.
+
+"I mean it with all my heart!" said Rita.
+
+"Well," said Jim, "my opinion is--considering my sister Peggy and her
+views, to say nothing of Jean and Flora--my opinion is, Rita--hurrah for
+you!"
+
+A month ago, Rita would have gone into violent heroics at such a moment
+as this. As it was, she smiled, though her eyes filled with tears, and
+said, quietly, "Thank you, cousin! It is what I expected from Peggy's
+brother."
+
+"May I speak?" said another voice. They turned, and saw Jack Delmonte,
+his blue eyes alight with eager gladness.
+
+"If--if Miss Montfort has this noble desire to help in the good cause,"
+he said, "it is easy for her to do it. My mother has turned her
+_residencia_, just outside the city, into a hospital. I am going there
+to-day. She needs more help, I know. You--you would like my mother, Miss
+Montfort; everybody likes my mother. She would do all she could to make
+it easy for you, and she would be so glad--oh, I can't tell you how glad
+she would be. And I think you are quite certain to like her."
+
+"Ah!" said Rita. "Have I not heard of the Saint of Las Rosas? There is
+no need to tell me how good and how noble the Senora Delmonte is.
+But--but will she like me, Captain--Captain Jack?"
+
+"Will she?" said Jack. "Will the sun shine?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+A FOREGONE CONCLUSION.
+
+
+                                            LAS ROSAS, June --, 1898.
+
+DEAR UNCLE JOHN:--Since I last wrote you, telling of our finding Rita,
+and of her safe delivery to Senora Delmonte, things have been happening.
+In the first place, I got a shot in my leg, in a skirmish, and, as the
+bone was broken, and it didn't seem to come round as it ought, I came
+here to be coddled, and am having a great time of it. Senora Delmonte is
+a fine woman, sir. You don't see many such women in a lifetime. She has
+a little hospital here, as complete as if she had New York City in her
+back dooryard; all her own place, you understand. Kind of Florence
+Nightingale woman. What's more, little Rita promises to become her
+right hand; if she's given a chance, that is--I'll come to that by and
+by, though. The way that little girl takes hold, sir, is a caution.
+She's quick, and she's quiet, and she's cheerful; and she has brains in
+her head, which is a mighty good thing in a woman when you do find it.
+She and Senora Delmonte are like mother and daughter already; and this
+brings me to something else I want to say. It's pretty clear that Jack
+Delmonte has lost his heart to this little girl of ours. It began, I
+suspect, the night he carried her off from the Spaniards; you have heard
+all about that; and it's been going on here, while a little flesh wound
+he had was healing. Yes, sir, he's in it deep, and no mistake; and, for
+that matter, I guess she is, too, though those things aren't in my line.
+Anyhow, what I want to say is this: Jack Delmonte is as fine a fellow as
+there is this side of the Rockies; and I don't know that I'll stop
+there, barring my brother Hugh. This war isn't going to last much
+longer. By some kind of miracle, this place--sugar plantation, and well
+paying in good times--hasn't been meddled with; and Jack ought to be
+able to support a wife, if he puts good work into the business, as he
+will. He's a first-rate all-round fellow, and has brains in his
+head--said that before, didn't I? well, it's a good thing in a man, too.
+I'm not much of a hand at writing, as I guess you'll see. All I mean to
+say is, if he and little Rita want to hitch up a double team, my opinion
+is it would be a mighty good thing, and I hope you'll give them your
+blessing and all that sort of thing, when the time comes.
+
+Much obliged for your letter, but sorry your knee still bothers you.
+Father has been laid up, too, so he writes; rheumatism. I'm getting on
+first-rate, and shall be out of this soon. I think a month or so more
+will see the whole blooming business over, and peace declared. Time,
+too! this is no kind of a country to stay in.
+
+                                   Your affectionate nephew,
+                                                   JAMES MONTFORT.
+
+P.S. Tell Cousin Margaret that J. D. is _all right_.
+
+                                           LAS ROSAS, June --, 1898.
+
+MY DEAR MR. MONTFORT:--I wonder if you remember Mary Russell, with whom
+you used to dance now and then when you came to Claxton in the old days,
+we will not say how many years ago. I certainly have not forgotten the
+pleasant partner who waltzed so well, and I am glad to have the
+opportunity of claiming acquaintance with you. I meant to write as soon
+as your niece arrived at my house, but the battle in this neighbourhood
+the day after brought us such an influx of wounded that my hands were
+very full, and the hasty dictated line was all I could manage. We are
+now in a little eddy of the storm (which, we hope, is nearly over), and
+have only a dozen men in the house, and most of these convalescent;
+so I must not delay longer in assuring you of the very great pleasure
+and help it has been to me to have Margarita with me. Indeed, I hardly
+know what I should have done without her the first week, as two of my
+nurses were ill just at the time when we were fullest. She shows a
+remarkable aptitude for nursing, which is rather singular, as she tells
+me that until lately she has been extremely timid about such matters,
+fainting at the sight of blood, etc. You never would think it now, to
+see her going about her work in the wards. The patients idolise her, and
+what is more (and less common), so do the nurses, who declare that she
+will miss her vocation if she does not go into a training-school as soon
+as she leaves Las Rosas; but I fancy you would not choose so arduous a
+life for her.
+
+[Illustration: "THE PATIENTS IDOLISE HER."]
+
+This brings me, my dear Mr. Montfort, to what is really the chief object
+in my writing to you to-day. Without beating about the bush, I am going
+to say, at once and frankly, that my dear son, Jack, has become deeply
+attached to this charming niece of yours. Who could be surprised at it?
+she must always have been charming; but the sweetness and thoughtfulness
+that I have seen growing day by day while she has been under my charge
+are, I somehow fancy, a new phase of her development. Indeed, Rita
+herself has told me, in her vivid way, of some of the wild pranks of her
+"unguided youth," as she calls it,--the child will be nineteen, I
+believe, on her next birthday!--and we have laughed and shaken our heads
+together over them. She is far more severe upon herself than I can be,
+for I see the quick, impulsive nature, and see, too, how it is being
+subdued and brought more and more under control by a strong will and a
+good heart. A very noble woman our Rita will make, if she has the right
+surroundings.
+
+Can we give her these? that is the question; a question for you to
+answer, dear Mr. Montfort. Jack saw readily, when I pointed it out to
+him, that it would not be suitable for him to speak of love to an orphan
+girl--an heiress, too, I believe--without her guardian's express
+consent. He chafes at the delay, for he is very ardent, being half
+Cuban; but you may have entire confidence that he will say nothing to
+Rita until I hear from you.
+
+You can easily find out about Jack; there is nothing in his life that he
+need conceal. Colonel G. and Mrs. B----, in New York, Professor Searcher
+and Doctor Lynx, of Blank College, will tell you of his school and
+college days; and Captain Montfort will, I think, say a good word for
+his record as a soldier and a patriot. Of course, in my eyes, he is a
+little bit of a hero; but maternal prejudice laid aside (if such a thing
+may be!), I can truly say that he is a clean, honest, high-minded man,
+with a sound constitution and an excellent disposition. Add to this a
+moderate income (not, I am happy to say, enough to allow him to dispense
+with work, were he inclined to do so, which he is not), and a very
+earnest and devoted attachment, and you have the whole case before you.
+May I hope to have your answer as soon as you shall have satisfied
+yourself on the various points on which you will naturally seek
+information? I assure you that, with the best intentions in the world,
+Jack does find it hard to restrain himself. Let me add that, if your
+answer is favourable, it will make me as well as my son very happy. Rita
+is all that I could wish for in a daughter; and I shall try my best to
+fill a mother's place toward her.
+
+In any case, believe me, dear Mr. Montfort,
+
+                                          Cordially yours,
+                                             MARY RUSSELL DELMONTE.
+
+P.S. You may ask, does Rita return Jack's affection? _I think she
+does!_
+
+
+                                             SANTIAGO, June --, 1898.
+
+HONOURED SENOR:--Your valued letter, containing inquiries on the subject
+of Senor Captain John Delmonte is at hand and contents notified. I
+hasten to reply with all the ardour of which I am capacious. This young
+man is a nobleman; few princes have equalled him in virtuous worth.
+Brave, honourable, pious (though Protestant; but this belief is probably
+your own, and is held by many of those most valuable to me, your
+honoured brother among them), a faithful and obedient son, a leader
+beloved to rapture by his soldiers. If more could be to say, I would
+hasten to cry it aloud. You tell me, with noble frankness, he is a
+pretender for the hand of my beloved Margarita; already it has been my
+happiness to be aware of it. Senor Montfort, to see these two admirable
+young persons united in the holy bondages of weddinglock is the last and
+chief wish of my life. I earnestly beg your sanction of their unition.
+In Jack I find a son for my solitary age; in Margarita a daughter, the
+most tender as she is the most beautiful that the world contains. To
+close my aged eyes on seeing them unified, is, I repeat it, the one wish
+of,
+
+                      Honoured Senor,
+                 Your most obedient and humble servitor,
+                                                    MIGUEL PIETOSO.
+
+
+                                           LAS ROSAS, June --, 1898.
+
+MY DEAR MR. MONFORT:--I have just read your letter to my mother, and I
+want to thank you before I do anything else. There isn't much to say,
+except that I will do my best to be in some degree worthy of this
+treasure, if I win it. I will try to make her happy, sir, I will indeed.
+No one could be good enough for her, so I will not pretend to that.
+
+She is awake now, so I must go.
+
+                                           Gratefully yours,
+                                                       JOHN DELMONTE.
+
+
+                                                 LAS ROSAS, Evening.
+
+DEAREST, DEAREST MARGARET:--Why are you not here? I want you--oh, I want
+you so much! I am so happy, so wonderfully, almost _terribly_ happy, how
+can I put it on paper? The paper will light itself, will burn up for
+joy, I think; but I will try. Listen! an hour ago--it is an evening of
+heaven, the moon was shining for me, for me and--oh, but wait! I was in
+the garden, resting after the day's work; I had been asleep, and now
+would take the remainder of my free time in waking rest. The air was
+balm, the roses all in blossom. Such roses were never seen, Marguerite;
+the place is named for them, Las Rosas. They are in bowers, in garlands,
+in heaps and mounds--I smell them now. The rose is my flower, remember
+that, my life long. I used to tell you it was the jessamine; the
+jessamine is a simpleton, I tell you. I was picking white roses, the
+kind that blushes a little warm at its heart--when I heard some one
+coming. I knew who it was; can I tell how? It was Captain Jack. I
+trembled. He came to me, he spoke, he took my hand. Oh, my dear, my
+dear, I cannot tell you what he said; but he loves me; he is my Jack, I
+am his Rita. Marguerite, will you tell me how it can be true? Your wild,
+silly, foolish Rita, playing at emotions all her childish life: she
+wakes up, she begins to try to be a little like you, my best one; and
+all of a sudden she finds herself in Paradise, with a warrior
+angel--Marguerite, I did not think of it till this moment; my Jack is
+the express image of St. Michael. His nose tips up the least bit in the
+world--I don't mind it; it gives life, dash, to his wonderful face;
+otherwise there is _no_ difference. My St. Michael! my soldier, my Star
+of Horsemen! Marguerite, no girl was ever so happy since the world was
+made. Oh, don't think me fickle; let me tell you! In the South here, are
+we different? It must be so. I _was_ fond of Santayana; but that was in
+another life. I was a sentimental, passionate child; he was handsome as
+a picture; it was a dream of seventeen. Now--can you believe that I am a
+little grown up? I really think I am. Perhaps I think it most because
+now, for the first time, I _really_ want to be like you, Marguerite. I
+used to be so pleased with being myself--I was the vainest creature that
+ever lived. Now, I want to be like you instead; I want to be a good
+woman, a good wife. Ah! what a wife you will make if you marry! But how
+can you marry, my poor darling? There is only one man in the world good
+enough for you, and he is mine. I cannot give him up, even to you, my
+saint. I have two saints now; I ought to be a Catholic. The second one
+is his mother, the Saint of Las Rosas, as she is called all through this
+part of the island. Marguerite, I must strive to grow like her, too, if
+such a thing were possible. I have work enough for my life, but what
+blessed work! to try to make myself worthy of Jack Delmonte, my Jack, my
+own!
+
+He took me to his mother; I have just come from her. I am her daughter
+from that moment, she says; oh, Marguerite, I will try to be a good one.
+Hear me--no! I am not going to make vows any more, or talk like girls in
+novels; I am just going to try. I loved her from the first moment I saw
+her grave, beautiful face. She took me in her arms, my dear; she said
+things--I have come up here to weep alone, tears of happiness. Dearest,
+you alone knew thoroughly the old Rita, the foolish creature, who dies,
+in a way, to-night. Say good-bye to her; give her a kiss, Marguerite,
+for she too loved you; but not half as dearly as does the new, happy,
+blessed
+
+                                      MARGARITA DE SAN REAL MONTFORT.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Page 12, "authoritaties" changed to "authorities" (by the authorities)
+
+Page 25, word "by" inserted into text (takes me by)
+
+Page 74, "senorita" changed to "senorita" (patriotism of the senorita)
+
+Page 129, "senorita" changed to "senorita" (would befit the senorita)
+
+Page 148, word "be" inserted into text (there'd have to be)
+
+Page 213, "gentlemen" changed to "gentleman" (little old gentleman)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rita, by Laura E. Richards
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