The little Cuban rebel : or, A war correspondent's sweetheart

By Edna Winfield

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Title: The little Cuban rebel
or, A war correspondent's sweetheart

Author: Edna Winfield

Release date: May 5, 2025 [eBook #76019]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: Street & Smith, 1896

Credits: Aaron Adrignola, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE CUBAN REBEL ***

The Little Cuban Rebel

A WAR CORRESPONDENT'S SWEETHEART

By Edna Winfield

NEW YORK AND LONDON

STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS

THE LITTLE CUBAN REBEL.

CHAPTER I.

THE YOUNG WAR CORRESPONDENT AND THE FAIR STRANGER--AN ACCIDENT
INTRODUCES THE LITTLE CUBAN REBEL.

"Sweet land of Liberty, Farewell!"

On the upper deck of the fast coastwise steamer Columbian, bound for
Santiago de Cuba, sat a young man of not more than twenty-three years
of age, tall, well-formed, and with a face as striking as it was
handsome.

The noble steamer was just passing out of sight of Sandy Hook and
many of the passengers, Americans and Spaniards, with a sprinkling of
Englishmen and creoles, were leaning on the rails, anxious to catch a
parting glimpse of terra firma. Not a few eyes were moist, the eyes of
those who did not expect to soon return, perhaps not forever.

The young man, who had made himself thoroughly comfortable in a steamer
chair, divided his time in studying a number of documents he held in
his hand, and in surveying his fellow passengers critically. His eyes,
a deep brown, were thoughtful in the extreme, and at once gave forth
the correct impression that he was a close student of human nature, as
well as a keen observer of all that was transpiring about him.

As the last glimpse of the distant sand-banks faded from view in the
bluish mist, one after another of those by the rails turned to the
decks, to find their seats, or to seek the seclusion of the cabins and
state-rooms.

It was not long ere the young man's attention was attracted to a young
lady, small and slender, who came close to him with graceful steps, and
sank into a seat opposite to his own. The face of the fair stranger
was dark, with ruddy cheeks, each with the daintiest of dimples, while
another dimple was hidden in the roundest of chins. The low forehead,
with its heavy and deep eyelashes, was surmounted by an abundance of
dark and wavy tresses, which clustered about the most beautiful of
well-rounded shoulders, and fell over a bosom that rose and fell at
every breath like the swells of the ocean.

"By Jupiter!" murmured the young man, and that exclamation, simple as
it was, meant a good deal.

Howard Sherwood, newspaper correspondent of the New York United Press,
was not in the habit of expressing any feeling or sentiment concerning
the looks of the opposite sex. "A strict young man of business," was
what his friends called him, "and he doesn't care a rap for the girls,"
they would add.

Howard Sherwood had taken one long look at the beautiful girl before
him, and now he dropped his eyes to the document in his hand.
Unconscious of his presence, the fair stranger opened a book and began
to read.

It was not long before the young newspaper correspondent again raised
his eyes, somewhat slyly and shyly. But, instead of that fascinating
face, he saw only the back of the book.

"Songs of Vassar!" he muttered, as he read the title of the book. "By
Jove! can she be a college-bred miss--an American? I thought she must
surely be a Spaniard or a Cuban. But perhaps she was sent to the United
States by her parents to be educated, and is now going home on account
of the war. Heavens! what a form and what features! more perfect than
the studies of Spanish beauties by the old masters. I wish she would
look up again."

Hardly had the last thought come to his lips than the song-book dropped
into the fair stranger's lap, and she did look up, humming the last bar
of one of the favorite melodies. Her eyes met those of Howard Sherwood
fully, the song stopped, the heavy eyelashes shrouded those beautiful
orbs, and the young man murmured a sigh that came straight from his
heart. In confusion, he once more turned his eyes upon his papers, and
soon after both were reading again.

But not for long. The private dispatches which Howard Sherwood carried
became meaningless to him, and it was in vain that he tried to get to
the close of the letter of instructions which had been thrust into his
hands at the last moment. That fair face was in his mind's eye, and
disturbed him as he had never been disturbed before. At last, totally
unaccustomed to such sensations, he arose to his feet, thrust his
papers away, and began to pace the deck.

"I never saw such a girl before," so ran his thoughts. "Beautiful
doesn't express it--she's simply the embodiment of loveliness. What a
form, and what a charming face, and such wavy, glossy hair! If Byron
were alive, he'd follow her around daily, and write a three-volume poem
about her! Pshaw! Howard Sherwood, you must be losing your head--you
who have run the entire gauntlet of society in a dozen big cities!
Remember, old boy, you are poor now, and must work for a living. Thank
your stars you've struck luck as a newspaper correspondent, and leave
womankind alone. There will be plenty of things to think about when
you reach Cuba and start on your hazardous mission of outwitting the
vigilance of the Spanish authorities, and sending in truthful reports
of the war."

As Howard Sherwood strode along as far as the limit of the upper deck
would permit, his attention was attracted to the work of several
sailors who were working in the masts, repairing several yard arms
which had been damaged by coming in contact with a tall derrick when
the steamer was leaving the pier. The sailors were rather careless in
their work, one letting a heavy piece of rope fall directly upon the
young man's shoulders.

"Hi, there! be careful!" he called out. And the sailor who had caused
the mishap shouted back an apology.

"I wish I knew her name!" thought Howard, coming back again to the
subject of the fair stranger. "I wonder if it's written on that book?
I'll walk up behind her and see, just for--for fun."

He turned and approached from behind several chairs, some empty and
others occupied. But just as he came within range the book was thrown
down.

"Look out, below there!"

It was the warning cry of the officer who was superintending the
repairs above. Howard Sherwood sprang back and looked up. The end of
one of the yard arms had become loose, and was falling directly toward
the spot where the fair young stranger was sitting.

"Back!" cried Howard, as he leaped forward.

The fair young creature was dazed, and hardly moved. As the heavy yard
arm came down, Howard swung it aside, and it fell with a crash to the
deck. It had missed those beautiful raven tresses by only a few inches.

"Oh, señor!" came from the lips of the girl, as she tried to catch her
breath. Then she gave Howard a look of unutterable gratitude. "You
saved my life!" she added, in unmistakable Spanish accents.

"Oh, I did not do much," was the young war correspondent's reply. "But
I am glad you were not injured. That was very careless of you," he
shouted to the sailors, and the officer berated the men soundly. The
yard was immediately raised, and that was the last of any accidents
with them.

"I--I did not see the yard arm," went on the fair creature, giving
Howard another grateful look. "You are strong, to throw it aside."

"I was an active member of an athletic club for several years," smiled
Howard, his eyes now bent full upon that fascinating face. "Allow me to
introduce myself--Howard Sherwood, correspondent----" He stopped short.
"I am a New York newspaper man."

"Oh, indeed!" She added a few words in Spanish which he did not catch.
"You are going down to Cuba to report the war?" she asked, with
interest.

"Partly for that purpose," he replied, slowly. "I have another
object--to look up some property in which my family has an interest.

"I see you are from Vassar," he went on, after a slight pause, and
pointed to the song-book.

"Yes, I have been at Vassar for two years. But now papa has written for
me to come home--the war has upset everything, you see."

"I trust it will not affect you," he smiled.

"It affects papa, and that affects me."

"And may I ask what side you are on?"

"Oh, I--I--can't really say until I see what is being done. Papa, I
know, sides with the royalists, but up at the college I read so much
about Cuban liberty, I am rather in favor of it, señor. On account of
my views, some of the girls call me Estella, the little Cuban rebel!"
and she burst into a bewitching laugh.

"Estella! That is a pretty name," he murmured. "May I ask the rest of
it?"

"Estella Inez Corona," she replied, demurely.

"I trust we shall become good friends while on this steamer, Miss
Corona," he said, as he extended his hand, which she took readily and
warmly pressed. He soon learned that even college life at Vassar had
not modified her natural Spanish impulsiveness and warmth of heart.

"A girl worth the winning," he thought, as he regretfully released her
hand.

CHAPTER II.

"WITH THE SWEET MUST COME THE BITTER--AND, OH! SO BITTER AT TIMES!"

As Howard Sherwood had intimated, he was poor, having nothing but his
pencil and note-book to depend upon for a living. Reared in the lap of
luxury, he had been suddenly thrown upon his own resources, with only
his brains and a college education to back him.

When a boy his parents had perished in a railroad disaster in New
Hampshire and he had been turned over to the care of his uncle, Robert
Sherwood, a wealthy bachelor, residing on Fifth avenue, New York City.
Robert Sherwood had given great care to Howard's early education, and
had insisted that the youth go to Yale, while he had suddenly taken
a notion to go to Cuba, where he had invested heavily in sugar and
tobacco plantations.

On the very day that Howard graduated from the well-known seat of
learning a letter was received from Robert Sherwood, stating that he
had been prostrated with a low fever, the result of exposure in the
swamps with which Cuba abounds. He was coming home under the care of a
physician, and he asked that Howard be on hand to take up the business
left in Cuba unfinished, as soon as he should be able to transfer the
same.

Howard was on hand, but instead of meeting his beloved uncle, he met
only the physician, who told him that his uncle was dead, having died
on the steamer when only one day out of Havana. The body had been
buried at sea.

The young man's grief was intense, for his uncle had been his last
remaining relative. In his sorrow he scarcely asked about the business
his uncle had mentioned in the letter, and he did not think of the
matter until stern necessity made him throw aside his sorrow and
grapple with the question of how to get along in the world.

Then it was that he made the discovery that his uncle's financial
affairs were hopelessly involved. Every dollar the bachelor had
possessed had been invested in Cuba, and just how matters stood it was
impossible to ascertain. Howard engaged an American lawyer in Santiago,
named Thomas Herringford, but so far had received no encouragement.
Over a hundred thousand dollars had been invested by Robert Sherwood
in Cuban lands, and Howard was his sole heir, yet it was doubtful if
the young man would realize a single dollar out of the vast estate.

Time dragged by, and Howard found he must do something for a living. To
one not accustomed to work this was no easy matter, but Howard was not
the one to shrink from a responsibility. He could write fluently, and
liked newspaper work, and it was not long before he attached himself to
one of the large press associations of New York which furnish the news
to several hundred newspapers throughout the land.

Several especially good bits of reporting soon placed Howard at
the head of the staff, and when the regular correspondent for the
association was recalled from Cuba, for inefficiency and unreliability,
Howard was immediately chosen to fill the vacant place at a salary of a
hundred dollars per month, and all expenses paid. A fairly good salary
in itself, yet it was but a small amount to one who had heretofore
spent money with a lavish hand.

Howard had great hopes of his trip to Cuba. Immediately on landing at
Santiago he expected to call on Thomas Herringford, and obtain the full
particulars of how his uncle's estate had been lost. He felt that at
least something should be saved from the general wreck. Howard had been
thinking of all these things, when chance, and the accident, threw him
into the company of Estella Corona, and for the time being the vision
of loveliness drove aught else from his mind. Never had he been smitten
before, and now the keen shaft of Love sank deep into his heart. As he
released her hand, his very soul seemed to go with it.

Whether Estella felt something of what was passing in his mind, or
whether it was his ardent gaze, bent full upon her, it would be
difficult to say, but she blushed deeply, her dark face all aflame,
making her look a hundred times more bewitching than ever. Then, as she
turned her head for an instant, a look of pain and misery crossed her
features. Evidently her girlish heart, full of careless joy to the
outside world, carried some burden of secret sorrow.

"And so you have been two years at Vassar," he went on. "And how do you
like it in the States?"

"Very much, indeed, señor," she replied. "Much better than among the
creoles and blacks of my own country."

"May I ask if you live at Santiago?"

"We live at Marambo, papa and I. We have a large sugar plantation, and
live there all alone, with the servants and the plantation help."

"It must be lonely for you," he said, sympathetically.

"It is--at times. But then, we have company, coming and going--old army
friends of my father."

"Then he is an army officer?"

"He used to be a general in the Spanish Army, ten years ago. He is
retired."

"Ah, I see. No wonder, then, he sides with the royalty. I am afraid you
will have a hard time to uphold your rebellious ideas in his presence."

"Maybe, but--" she paused, and her eyes shone like twin stars. "Cuba
should be free. It is not for Spain to grind down those faithful
ones! Spain would take the last piaster from them! Those miserable
soldiers"--her cheeks grew red again--"they rob the natives! Oh, señor,
you do not know what the people suffer in our isle!"

"I know something of it; I have studied the situation," replied Howard.
But he was not thinking just then of the people--only of how amazingly
pretty Estella looked. "It seems to me you hate the Spanish soldiery,"
he added.

"I do--some of them!" On the adjective she put an emphasis that did not
escape him. "They are cowardly--and worse! They should be sent from the
island, bag and baggage, as you Americans say it."

He laughed outright. "Your college chums were right when they called
you Estella, the little Cuban rebel." His voice sank lower. "And may I
call you Estella, too?"

His eyes sought hers, and for an instant they seemed to gaze into each
other's very soul. Then the long eyelashes dropped.

"If you wish, Mr. Sherwood, but----"

"Thank you, Estella; and why not call me Howard? We are going to be the
best of friends, are we not? You are the first Cuban lady I have met."

"Indeed? Then I suppose I will have to call you Howard. It would be
quite proper in Cuba; but you Americans----"

"We are going to Cuba, and must do as the Cubans do," he interrupted,
merrily. "So it is Howard, remember. Hark! there is the supper gong.
May I have the pleasure?" He extended his arm, which she took. "We
must get seats together, and during the trip you will, perhaps, tell
me all about the country--and yourself. Then I will not feel so much a
stranger when I land."

"I will tell you all you care to listen to," she smiled. Then of a
sudden she grew grave, and said no more until they were seated in the
dining-saloon.

When supper was over, and they had come on deck again, the red sun
had gone down in the direction of the land, and out of the rim of the
eastern sea the pale new moon was rising, a thin crescent emerging from
a bath of glittering silver. Estella clasped her hands together as she
gazed on the scene.

"How beautiful!" she murmured, in Spanish. "Excuse me, but you do not
understand, Mr.--Howard!"

"I do, but not very well. I much prefer to hear you talk in
English--your accent is so soft and sweet, Estella. When you speak I
listen like one in a happy dream." He drew closer to her, and his hand
rested upon her shapely waist. "Yes, it is a beautiful scene," he went
on. "Would that all the scenes in life were as beautiful."

She started, and a slight shiver shook her form.

"Yes, yes; would that all were as beautiful," she cried. "But it seems
it cannot be. With the sweet must come the bitter--and, oh, so bitter
at times!"

He looked down at her gravely. He felt that she was speaking, not
lightly, but in all sincerity, and a pang shot through his heart for
whatever she might have suffered.

"I wish you a future without one atom of bitterness!" he cried, as he
pressed her closer. "You deserve nothing but sweetness, I am sure--your
innocent face proves it."

"You are kind," she murmured, and did not attempt to release herself
from him. "But you do not know--you do not understand----" She abruptly
paused. "What am I saying? It is nothing to you. Let us enjoy the
scene. See how the moon is rising?"

"As it rises, so does my interest in you rise, Estella."

"Ah, señor, perhaps; but the moon sets, too."

"But not my interest!" he cried, with a burst of passion which
surprised even himself. "The first sight of your fair face drew me to
you, every glance kindled the fire within my heart----"

"Oh, Howard!" she gave him a single passionate glance.

"It is true, Estella. Never before have I been so fascinated by such a
lovely face, and----"

The young war correspondent hesitated. There was a heavy step behind
them, and a thick-set, rough-looking Spaniard, in the dress of a naval
officer, came up and touched Estella on the shoulder.

"Good-evening, Miss Corona," he said, in his native tongue. "I saw you
at the supper table, and have been hunting for you ever since."

"Good-evening, Captain Barbados," returned Estella, stiffly. It was
evident that she was equally annoyed by the interruption and the person
causing it.

Captain Barbados looked sharply at Howard, and there was nothing to do
but introduce the two.

"Going to Cuba to take part in the war?" asked the captain, addressing
Howard, in very bad English.

"Mr. Sherwood is a war correspondent----" began Estella, and then, as
Howard pressed her arm, she paused. "I mean--I mean----"

"A war correspondent, eh?" muttered Barbados, and his brow lowered. "I
thought the United States had already sent enough of those cattle down
upon us."

Howard's face flushed, and for the instant he was tempted to slap the
Spaniard's face. Estella seemed to feel what was in his mind, for she
caught his arm.

"Shame on you, Captain Barbados!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Sherwood is my
friend! To address him in that fashion is--is ungentlemanly."

"Well, maybe." The Spaniard shrugged his shoulders. "I was not
speaking of Señor Sherwood as a man. It is the calling I detest. War
correspondents? Bah! They are spies, sent on by Americans who would set
Cuba free! I know them, and so does your worthy father, the general."

At the latter words Estella grew pale. Howard stepped forward.

"You are mistaken, sir," he said, as calmly as he could. "I am a simple
correspondent, and I am also going to Cuba, to look up a certain
property interest left me by my late uncle, Robert Sherwood."

"Ha!" the Spanish captain started back on hearing Robert Sherwood's
name mentioned, but he instantly recovered. "Well, take my advice and
keep your hands out of the struggle, or you may get burnt." He turned
again to Estella. "Come with me," he went on, in Spanish. "Remember,
your father wrote to me to care for you should you return on this
steamer."

For a moment Estella stood irresolute, then, with a sweet good-night to
Howard, she left his side and walked toward the cabin with the captain.

"How long have you known that man?" demanded Captain Barbados, as soon
as they were out of hearing.

"Excuse me, but you have no right to question me, Captain Barbados,"
replied the girl, with spirit. "I will retire at once, and I trust that
in the future you will offer no more insults to my friend."

Without another word, she hurried away to her state-room, entered, and
locked the door behind her. As the captain gazed after her, his brow
grew even darker than before.

"Can it be that she is in love with that American spy?" he muttered.
"It certainly looks like it. If so, what will her father say, and
Lieutenant Mazenas, to whom she is betrothed? I don't think the
hot-blooded lieutenant will give her up so easily, especially as her
father desires so greatly to see the two families united." He ran his
hand through his coarse black hair. "I must tell Philippe about this
American, and we must watch him. To capture a full-fledged spy, and
hand him to the authorities, will be worth a promotion to both of us."

CHAPTER III.

"ARREST THAT MAN; HE IS AN AMERICAN SPY! AND HOLD THE WOMAN."

On the following morning Howard appeared on deck at an early hour, in
the hope that Estella would be there. But she was not in sight, nor did
she appear at the breakfast-table, although Captain Barbados was there,
in company with Philippe, a fellow worker in the cause of Spanish rule
in Cuba.

The two Spaniards kept their distance, Barbados merely recognizing
Howard by a stiff nod, which was returned with equal severity. Howard
had not yet forgotten the insult offered to him, nor was he likely to
forget it for a long time to come.

All that day Estella kept to her state-room, and when Howard sent her
some fruit, with a kind message, she returned a verbal answer to the
effect that she was not feeling well, and never did on the water. As
many of the passengers showed signs of seasickness, Howard accepted
the plea without question, and merely mourned the loss of her sweet
companionship.

But down in her narrow berth the beautiful Spanish girl was suffering
far more mentally than physically. Her hot and flushed face was wet
with bitter tears, and as she read and re-read a number of letters in
her possession, her tears did not cease.

"Oh, papa, if you only knew how much I despise the lieutenant, you
would not ask me to marry him!" she moaned, in her native tongue. "I do
not love him--I never can love him!" She read a portion of one of the
letters again. "And you say it was mother's dying wish, also, that I
should be married into the Mazenas family! Oh, mother, mother, little
did you know what you were asking at the hands of your only child!
Little did you know! My heart will break! My heart will break!"

And dashing the letters to the floor she burst forth once more into a
torrent of passionate weeping.

It was not until the following day, when they were off Cape Hatteras,
that Howard saw her again. Her face was then so pale and her eyes so
sunken that he could not repress an exclamation of alarm.

"You have indeed suffered!" he cried. "You should have gone as far as
possible by land. This voyage round the cape will be something terrible
for you!"

"I am feeling better now, and I doubt if I have another attack," she
replied, with a faint smile. She was glad he attributed the change in
her to seasickness. "What a beautiful autumn day it is!"

"Are you anxious to get home?" he asked, as he conducted her to her
chair and drew up his own.

"No--yes--that is, I shall be glad to see papa again--and Cara, my
faithful maid. But otherwise----"

"You would rather remain in the United States?"

"Much rather. I like the people and their ways. You see," she added, by
way of explanation, "I have American blood in me on my mother's side.
And papa used to like Americans--before this war broke out, and they
began to side with the rebels--and that's how I came to be sent to
Vassar to be educated."

"I trust we shall see much of each other while in Cuba, Estella," he
whispered. "I cannot bear to think of losing you now that we have once
met."

She smiled, and then the lines of deep thought marked her brow.

"Perhaps you won't say that when you see the surroundings, and our
people."

"A pearl is a pearl still, no matter where it falls," he rejoined,
trying his best to look into her deep eyes, and not failing altogether.
He would have said much more, but Captain Barbados, who had been
watching them, strolled up with his friend Philippe, and spoiled the
tete-a-tete.

The days passed all too quickly for Howard Sherwood after this. Time
and again he strove to lead Estella to a retired spot, where he might
talk to her in private, might tell her something of the passion which
had been born in his heart, but the watchful eyes of Captain Barbados
or Philippe were always on them, and he found it impossible.

"They think me a spy, and are determined to watch me as a cat watches a
mouse," thought Howard, bitterly. "Hang the luck, any way! I would like
to pitch them both overboard!"

It was not many days before the Columbian came in sight of the Pointe
de Maysi. The run thence down the Windward Passage was quickly made,
and a couple of hours later the steamer dropped anchor in the harbor of
Santiago.

Howard had looked around in vain for Estella, to have a little
conversation with her before going ashore, and was now leaning over the
rail, taking in as much of the city as was in sight from the deck.

The custom-house officers and inspectors had already come aboard, with
a view to searching the passengers. One of them, an over-important
appearing individual, was called aside by Captain Barbados. Estella,
coming on deck at that instant, saw the movement and instinctively
feeling that something was wrong, came up behind the pair, screened
from view by a corner of the cabin.

"What is it, captain?" growled the government inspector. "I haven't any
time to spare--there are so many passengers to be examined."

"Do you see that man?" replied Barbados, pointing to Howard. "He is a
spy!"

"Ah!" The inspector's eyes began to glisten. "You are sure?" he
questioned, eagerly.

"He claims to be a newspaper correspondent, but you know what that
means. Search him well."

"I will."

"And remember, it was Captain Barbados who gave the information,"
concluded the Spanish officer, as he turned away.

Estella listened to the conversation with a wildly beating heart.
What if Howard Sherwood should have something contraband about his
person--pistols, knives, or perhaps dispatches for the insurgents? On
the word of Captain Barbados he would be immediately dragged off to a
dungeon in one of the forts.

She ran around the cabin, so as to avoid the captain and the inspector,
and came up to where Howard was standing. He smiled as he tipped his
hat, but ere he could speak she whispered into his ear:

"The inspectors think you are a spy! If you have any contraband
articles about you, hide them! hide them quickly!"

"Why--what--" he stammered; then, as a sharp-eyed stranger came close
to them, he suddenly changed the subject. "Yes, rather a pretty
harbor," he remarked aloud.

Her words had set him to thinking rapidly. In his pocket was a letter
of introduction to General Gomez, of the Cuban army, also a letter to
another commander of the insurgents. Over his arm he carried a light
overcoat with a rolling collar, and this held a deftly concealed
32-calibre pistol, with fifty rounds of ammunition. He had been advised
to take the pistol along, it being a well-known fact that to buy arms
of any kind in Cuba at the time was impossible.

"The inspector wishes to speak with you," said the stranger, as he
pointed out the man Captain Barbados had addressed.

"Very well," replied Howard, as carelessly as he could. Then, as the
man turned away, he whispered to Estella: "Can I trust you with this
packet, or will they examine you also?"

She did not reply, but her brown, shapely fingers closed over his
letters, and she slipped them into her dress. "Is that all?"

"All but a pistol in this overcoat--they can have that if they wish it
so much."

"The Plaza del Silveo, at eight to-night, if we do not meet again," she
whispered, and then, as another inspector came up, they parted.

When Howard reached the inspector's side, he was at once ordered into
one of the smaller cabins. Two men attended him, and searched his
clothing from head to foot, and even pulled off the heavy boots he
wore. In the meantime, the light overcoat had been thrown lightly on an
adjacent chair.

The inspector was much chagrined at finding nothing to confirm the
suspicions Barbados had cast on the young war correspondent, and sent
for the captain to explain matters. The pair talked outside of the
cabin door for several minutes, and finally Howard was sent to the
other end of the boat, among several others who were detained, while
the remainder of the passengers were allowed to go on shore with their
luggage.

It was nightfall before the young war correspondent was told he was
free to go where he pleased, so long as he remained within the city
limits. Should he venture outside without the password (and that was
not furnished to him) he would be shot. A hasty examination was made of
his overcoat, but, luckily, the weapon--the only one he possessed--was
not brought to light.

On reaching the landing, Howard at once made his way to the
Anglo-American Club, where he was kindly received by a dozen or more
men, all anxious to see an American face and hear the latest gossip
from New York.

But Howard was in no mood to spend time with them. He had come on two
important missions--one for himself, and one for the press association
he represented--and he realized that he must make the best possible
use of his time. Besides, there was sweet Estella! How he longed to be
again at her side! He was glad she had taken the letters, for now he
would have the chance to converse with her once more before she left
Santiago for her home in the interior.

It was an easy matter to ascertain where the Plaza del Silveo was
situated--up at the farther end of one of the main streets of the town.
Half-past seven found him on his way thither, his pistol in his pocket,
and on the lookout for any spy who might be dogging his footsteps.

The plaza reached, Howard gazed up and down the square, and into the
narrow and dirty streets beyond. Only a few persons were in sight, and
Estella was not among them.

"Help! Help!"

The cry, ringing out so unexpectedly upon the evening air, caused
his heart to give a great bound. It was Estella's voice, and she was
evidently in dire need of assistance.

The call came from a house up the narrow street. The young war
correspondent turned quickly in the direction whence the voice had
come, and in a few moments he saw Estella hastily approaching, closely
pursued by a Spanish officer.

"Let me go!" he heard her cry, as the burly officer caught her about
the waist. "Release me, I command you!"

"Not quite yet, my little Cuban rebel!" returned the officer. "You're a
perfect little Tartar, but you sha'n't escape me!"

"Villain, unhand her!" thundered Howard, as he leaped to Estella's
side. As he spoke, a well-aimed blow knocked the Spanish officer off
his feet, and sent him staggering up against the building.

"Help! Guard!" bawled the man who, Howard now saw, wore the uniform of
a captain in the royal army. "Arrest that man! He is an American spy!
And hold the woman! She has papers of great importance for General
Campos!"

CHAPTER IV.

"OH, WAS EVER THERE A GIRL SO WRETCHED AS I?"

The cry of the Spanish officer, ringing through the quiet side street
of Santiago, would ordinarily have attracted but little attention. But
now the place was filled with soldiery, and in a trice four of the
captain's own men appeared, and rushed upon fair Estella and Howard.

"Secure the two!" bawled the captain, who had not yet recovered from
the well-deserved blow the young war correspondent had administered.
"The man is a spy, and the woman is here to give him information!"

"You are mistaken; I am an American citizen, and will resist any
indignity to the last," exclaimed Howard. "This brute deserves what he
got, for he was treating the lady as no gentleman would."

At this the Spanish captain muttered a long oath. Then he gave rapid
directions to his men in their native tongue, and the four made toward
Estella and Howard.

"Fly, Estella!" whispered the young war correspondent. "Don't waste a
moment. I will keep them at bay!"

"But you--the letters!" panted Estella, her breast heaving violently.
She recognized only too well the grave peril which confronted the noble
young man.

"Keep the letters, or throw them where they may be found!" he
rejoined. "Now fly, for the sake of Heaven--for my sake!"

At those last words, even in the intense excitement, her cheeks
flushed, and her eyes took on a light he had never before seen in them.
Like a beautiful vision she turned and sped along an alley leading to a
deserted dancing-garden. She had hardly taken a dozen steps, when her
maid, who had accompanied her to the plaza, joined her. The maid was
stopping at Santiago, having been sent thither by General Corona to
meet Estella on the arrival of the steamer, and conduct her safely home.

"Oh, Miss Estella!" she cried, in her Cuban patois. "The soldiers--that
young man----"

"Come, Cara; this is no place in which to talk," responded the
frightened young mistress. "You say you know the streets about here.
Lead me back to your friend's house. I will not dare to return to the
hotel."

The maid said no more, but took the lead and plunged through the
dancing garden, now silent and empty, and into a labyrinth of back
streets until they reached a small and plain house at the upper end of
the town.

The maid knocked on the door, and they were admitted, and for the time
being at least Estella was safe. But she still carried the letters, the
very things for which she had risked so much.

A cup of strong coffee, made by Cara's friend, soon tranquilized the
beautiful girl's nerves. Yet she was much disturbed on Howard's account.

"Oh, I hope he has escaped!" she murmured, as she paced the floor,
although urged by her maid to retire. "And he told me to fly--for his
sake! Ah, me, if he only knew! If he only knew!"

And two big and bitter tears coursed down her dark cheeks, in the
centre of each of which glowed a bright red spot, as in her imagination
she saw his handsome face still, as he looked when he was holding back
the soldiers who sought to follow her.

"Cara," she continued, after a long pause, as she drew her maid to one
side, "you did not tell me all the news from home."

"You did not give me time," smiled the maid. "I told you about your
dear father--that he intends to join the royal army should matters grow
worse. He is inflexibly opposed to the rebels."

"I suppose so!" sighed Estella. "But the men on the place--what of
them, Cara?"

The maid smiled, showing two rows of strong, white teeth.

"Oh, they--perhaps you had better not ask me, Miss Estella."

"They are with the rebels, of course. And why not? Cuba should be free!"

"Oh, my darling!" cried the servant. "Blessed be your tongue for that!
Yes, Cuba libre! That is the cry! But, oh, do not let your father hear
you say it! Tomasso said that three days ago and your father had him
flogged!"

"He did!" Estella's eyes blazed. "And papa always thought Tomasso the
best man in the cane brakes! But he was induced to act so only on
account of his position in the old guard and his duty to the kingdom!"

"It is Lieutenant Mazenas who has inspired your father with loyalty
to Spain, Miss Estella. He calls nearly every day with stories of the
insurgents' wrong-doings. He tells your father that the men are only
watching for the chance to loot the plantation and join the rebel army."

Estella's eyes begin to blaze. If her father was of a strong mind, his
daughter was not much unlike him.

"Why is not the lieutenant with the main body of the Spanish army?" she
asked.

"He is stationed near Marambo, guarding a section of the railroad, Miss
Estella. He had himself stationed there on purpose, so Tomasso told me,
that he might be convenient when you came home."

The beautiful young mistress began to shiver. How she dreaded the
coming meeting with this bony, dark-skinned Spanish officer, even
though he was connected with the finest families in the island. She
turned away to hide her agitation, but Cara came quickly to her side.
She was Estella's firm friend, and would have laid down her very life
for her mistress had it been necessary.

"A fearful ordeal awaits you, my darling," she said, softly. "I wanted
to tell you before, but I could not, and now it is harder to tell than
ever."

Estella started and stared at the maid. "More bad news? Tell me at
once."

"The lieutenant called on your father just before I was sent to
Santiago to meet you, and they had a long talk. I should not have
listened, but I heard your name mentioned so often I could not resist.
The lieutenant said he was afraid he might be shifted to the vicinity
of Havana, and wanted to know if the marriage could not take place as
soon as you came home----"

"Oh, Cara! And my father?"

"Be calm, my darling! Your father may listen to reason when you meet
him," said the maid, soothingly.

"Then he consented!" moaned Estella. "He promised that I should marry
Lieutenant Mazenas speedily!"

"He promised that the marriage should take place within a week of your
arrival. But, oh, Miss Estella, say not that I listened! He would kill
me!"

"You are safe, Cara--have no fear." Estella clutched her forehead in
her hands while an icy shiver swept over her. "To marry him in a week!
Oh, merciful Heaven! No, no, no! anything but that! I cannot, cannot be
his wife! I would rather die!"

"Do not go on so, sweet mistress!" cried Cara. "The lieutenant may
grant you time when you go to him, and then----"

Estella drew herself up haughtily. "I will ask no favor at his hands.
I never consented to be his wife. My father has arranged all, and
he--he." She faltered, and could not go on, her agitation overmastering
her. She tottered toward a chair, but, ere she could reach it, fell
forward, temporarily helpless.

Badly frightened, Cara rushed to her assistance, at the same time
calling to her friend, the owner of the house, to bring a glass of
light wine. The maid raised Estella, who in a few seconds opened her
tear-stained eyes.

"It--it is nothing--I will be stronger in a moment!" gasped the
beautiful girl. "The news was so sudden--and the room is so close. Open
a window, Cara."

"I closed them, fearing to be overheard," responded the maid. "I will
open them wide, and fan you, and you must try to forget what I told
you." And the maid started to do as she had said.

"Try to forget!" murmured Estella. "Would to Heaven that I could! But,
no, it is impossible! If papa has given him his word, no power on earth
can make him break it! If the marriage has been arranged, it will have
to take place on the day, the hour, the minute! Oh, was ever there a
girl so wretched as I?"

Again she began to sob; but only for a second. Cara, who had started to
open a near window, drew back, and held up her hand warningly.

"Hush!"

A tramping of many feet was heard, coming up the narrow street. The
footsteps seemed to pause at the door. Then came a loud knocking on the
door-post.

"What's wanted?" asked the woman of the house, as she shook with fear.

"Open, in the name of the King of Spain!"

CHAPTER V.

THE YOUNG WAR CORRESPONDENT'S ESCAPE--THE LAWYER'S
STATEMENT--DOGGED BY A SPY.

"If he resists, shoot him down!"

Such was the cry of the Spanish captain, as unable to stop the sudden
flight of Estella, the four soldiers crowded about Howard and sought to
arrest him.

But, as before mentioned, Howard was both strong and agile, and in
rapid order he threw one soldier and then another from him. This left
a clear space on his right, and he leaped through it and sped down an
alley, taking an opposite direction to that pursued by the beautiful
girl.

Half a dozen shots rang out in quick succession, and these served to
arouse the residents of that section of the city. Many of the citizens
poured forth into the plaza, thinking there was an uprising of the
rebels, and it was long after midnight ere quietness was restored.

Running swiftly, and yet not knowing where, Howard, at the end of five
minutes, came suddenly against the side of a small stable, the alley
ending in a cul-de-sac. He was almost breathless, and sank down in
some brushwood stacked up there, utterly exhausted. He listened with
strained ears, but although he heard the sounds of the tumult in the
quarter he had left, no one was coming toward him.

"I fancy I'm safe for the time being," he thought. "I wish I knew that
fair Estella had reached a place of safety. Darling girl! how much she
risked just to be of service to me! I wonder if she understands how
much I love her? For I do love her--love her as I never before loved
any one!"

The truth had been forcing itself upon him gradually and now he
confessed it boldly, as one does something that pleases him. He was
madly in love with Estella Corona. It had been a case of love at sight,
although he hardly knew it. He could not get her dark fascinating face
from his mind, and it may truly be said that, notwithstanding their
brief acquaintance, he really idolized her.

For fully five minutes he sat where he had fallen, getting back his
breath, and speculating upon the way affairs had turned. What was best
to be done?

Estella still had the precious documents, and this he did not regret,
for it meant that they must meet again. But without his letters he felt
he could do but little toward serving the press association which had
sent him to Cuba.

In order to understand this, the reader must remember that all the
regular news sent from Cuba to the world at large, for publication, was
closely scrutinized by the Spanish Government, and was "doctored" to
suit the tastes of royalty. If the Spanish army won a battle, it was
heralded as of great importance; while, if the rebels won, hardly any
mention was made of it. Not only this, but the rebels were said to be
committing outrages of which they were never guilty, the object being
to make fair-minded Americans withhold their sympathy from the Cubans
in their righteous struggle for independence.

Howard had been sent, as other correspondents before him, to obtain
the news, pure and simple, and at any cost. It was known that no
amount of money could purchase his silence should he learn of anything
detrimental to one side or the other, which that side wished to
suppress. The correspondent sent before him had been bought off by the
Spanish leaders, but there was no danger of this occurring in Howard's
case. He would have indignantly resented the first intimation of
bribery.

In order to obtain direct information of what the insurgents were
doing, he must be armed with his letters of introduction to the various
leaders. Having heard their stories, and made various inspections,
he would then be ready to turn to the Spaniards for their version
of affairs. Personally he sided with the Cubans; but as a newspaper
correspondent, with a high idea of his position, the news, the whole
news, and nothing but the news, was everything.

He thought of all these things as he sat in the darkness, and then he
arose slowly and cautiously, and made his way back to one of the main
streets of the town, and thence to the Anglo-American Club.

He had here met a young American named Dilwoddy, who was a Cuban
sympathizer, and who knew the city from end to end. Calling this young
man aside, he explained that there was a disturbance at the Plaza del
Silveo, and asked concerning the soldiery gathered there.

"Want to catch some news first lick, eh?" laughed Dilwoddy. "All right,
come ahead; I'll take you where you can see it all, and still be safe."

A quarter of an hour later found them in the upper room of a house in
the vicinity of the plaza. From this point they could see all that was
taking place, and here Howard witnessed, for the first time, a skirmish
between the rebels and the soldiery.

He, however, took small interest in the scene. His keen eyes were on
the watch for Estella, and when he saw nothing of the fair girl, he
grew much disturbed.

Finally he left Dilwoddy, and at the risk of being captured, made a
personal search throughout the neighborhood for the girl who had proved
herself such a friend. The search was useless.

Weary and disheartened, he was about to return to the vicinity of an
American hotel, when of a sudden he ran into a tall man who at once
caught him by the shoulder and swung him around.

"Howard Sherwood! When did you arrive?"

"Thomas Herringford!" exclaimed Howard, as he caught the hand of the
lawyer who had once managed his uncle's estate. "This is lucky. I was
going to hunt you up to-morrow morning. I got in to-day."

"I expected you," rejoined Herringford. "So you are a newspaper
reporter, eh? Then you are undoubtedly here to kill two birds with one
stone, as the saying goes."

"I am."

"Come to my home--it is close by. I want to talk to you about that land
business, although I'll tell you at the start that the insurrection
here has disarranged everything. The courts are so upset you can do
nothing in them."

"I believe you. But, honestly, Herringford, is there any hope for me?"

"Why not? Those rascals undoubtedly swindled your uncle. The worst of
it is, these folks are all Spaniards, and now most of them are in the
Spanish army. There is a Captain Nocolo in the deal, and another rich
young blood named Mazenas, who has just been elevated to a lieutenancy
in the Court guard--hard people to reach just now--although it would be
easy enough to do so in times of peace."

"But I thought you said something in your letter about a lawyer named
Samuel Barker----"

"Biggest villain I ever met. He pushed through the papers for Nocolo,
Mazenas & Co. If I could find him, I have plenty to bring him to
account for. But he has disappeared into the interior."

"I am going into the interior soon, and I hope to be able to locate
him," returned Howard.

"If you do, let me know--I'll force him into some kind of a
confession," growled Thomas Herringford.

He was a bluff old lawyer, and never hesitated in coming to the point.
In the few times they had met, Howard had come to sincerely admire him.

"The Nocolo crowd managed this thing very adroitly," went on the
lawyer. "They sent to your uncle a representative who pretended that he
held a high position under the government. Your uncle trusted the man,
and, consequently, was greatly deceived. The chap's dead now, though."

"And so is Uncle Robert."

"Yes, poor fellow! and he was a good man, Howard--straight as a die. I
remember once when he----Hullo! What's up now?"

They had reached Thomas Herringford's home, and were ascending the
steps, when, chancing to turn, Howard had seen a figure that instantly
arrested his attention. It was one of the soldiers from whom he had
escaped.

"That soldier is dogging me!" he whispered. "I won't get you into
trouble. Good-night. If he asks any questions, tell him I asked you
for the nearest route to the shipping."

And in another moment he had slipped off in the dark. The soldier
attempted to follow, but Howard quickly and easily eluded him.

"They won't let up, that's certain," muttered the young war
correspondent. "Perhaps I'll have to do as many others--change my
appearance whenever I venture out."

CHAPTER VI.

"LOOK INTO MY EYES, AND SAY YOU WILL SOME DAY BE MY OWN TRUE WIFE."

Dodging the Spanish spy led Howard once again in the vicinity of the
Plaza del Silveo--although the young war correspondent reached that
vicinity unconsciously.

He came upon the open square quite unexpectedly, and before he could
retire found himself once more in the companionship of Dilwoddy, who
was wandering about, wondering what had become of him.

Howard explained how he was dogged, and Dilwoddy led the way into
another house, not far from the other they had visited. This also
overlooked the plaza. The larger part of the crowd had been dispersed,
and the Spanish soldiers were patrolling the main thoroughfares leading
to the spot.

"Tell me where that leads to?" said Howard, pointing from the window to
the road Estella had pursued in her hasty flight.

"To the upper end of the town--up among the creoles," replied Dilwoddy.
"Odd neighborhood, too."

"I should like to take a look at it," said Howard, getting up as he
spoke.

"You want to go there now?"

"Yes. But you need not come unless you wish."

"Oh, I'll come fast enough, Sherwood. I can't sleep these hot nights.
But say"--he paused--"you have an object in view?"

"Perhaps I have."

"Oh, well, I won't ask foolish questions. But take care and don't run
us too far into the lion's mouth."

Howard laughed, and the pair soon found themselves walking on in the
semi-darkness. Howard hoped to meet Estella; yet he knew how hopeless
his task might be in such a crowded neighborhood.

"The soldiery are approaching!" exclaimed Dilwoddy, presently. "Come
behind this house, and let them pass. They might arrest us for prowling
about in the dark."

He dragged Howard out of sight, and a moment later half a dozen men in
Spanish uniform hurried past, at the head of them the captain, whose
insult to Estella the young war correspondent had so manfully resented.

"This is the house!" the captain cried, as he halted the men about
fifty feet farther on. And then came the cry: "Open in the name of the
King of Spain!"

A cry broke from Howard. Had they found Estella's hiding-place? Eagerly
he listened to the outcome of the demand.

A painful silence, another demand, and the door was flung open, and the
soldiers and the officer entered.

"Now we can go on," said Dilwoddy; but instead of replying, Howard bade
him a sudden good-night and ran off to a spot behind the house that had
been thus suddenly invaded.

The young war correspondent had caught a passing glimpse of a flying
figure--a figure he knew only too well. It was Estella, who had left
the house by a rear exit, and who, accompanied by the faithful Cara,
was doing her best to escape.

"Estella!" he called, softly, as he came up.

She turned in alarm, then gave a cry of joy, and almost fell into his
arms.

Never had he been so tempted to snatch a kiss from her cherry-red lips.
But time was precious. The soldiers in the house had already reached
the back door, and were peering out, holding their torches over their
heads.

"Do you know the way?" demanded Howard, addressing Cara.

"My maid does," put in Estella. "Quick, Cara, lead on to a safer place
than this."

The three were running at top speed, and now four of the soldiers
were coming after them, waving their torches over their heads. Howard
started to take Estella by the arm, but she stumbled and fell.

Quickly the young war correspondent lifted her in his arms. The
soldiers were now less than a rod behind them.

"Stop, or we will fire!" shouted the leader, in Spanish.

They made no reply, but dove out of sight into some shrubbery that
lined the road. Then Cara caught Howard by the arm.

"This way--come!" she said, in broken English.

They passed behind more shrubbery, and into the yard of a fine mansion.
The soldiers had halted in perplexity. As quick as a flash Cara led
them to where an iron gate led to a cellar under the house. They passed
within, and the maid closed the gate and locked it from the inside.

"A private school!" she whispered. "I worked here--years ago. Come on."

She lighted a match and moved on through the cellar to a passage-way
lined with rough stones, and quite narrow. The passage-way ended in a
small, circular chamber, with a ladder leading to a closed trap-door
overhead.

"Here we are safe," said Cara. "Nobody ever knew of this but me and
another girl. We discovered it when we were on a hunt one night. It is
an old secret vault."

Howard did not reply; but as Cara lighted a bit of candle she had
extracted from her dress, he placed Estella on a couch to one side,
which was musty with age.

"We are safe for the time being," said Estella, after conversing with
Cara in the maid's native tongue. "But we must make no sound while we
are here, or we shall be overheard by the occupants of the seminary
overhead."

"You are not hurt?" he whispered, tenderly. "I would not have you
suffer for my sake for the world!"

"I felt exhausted, but I am better now. But had you not better take
your letters?" and she held them out.

In a trice he had them secreted in his clothes. They listened, and
heard the soldiers make a demand at the school door, enter the
building, and after a search around, go away.

"Now, I suppose we can go," he said, some time after the last sound had
died away. "But what will become of you, Estella?"

"Oh, I will be safe enough now that I no longer carry the letters,"
she returned. "It was those that caused the trouble. That horrid
captain was spying upon me, and observed me handling them when I was
endeavoring to satisfy myself that they were safe. I believe he is in
the employ of the custom-house inspectors."

"Then I presume that in the morning you will leave Santiago for home,"
he went on, regretfully.

"Yes."

There was a deep silence between them. Cara had mounted the ladder,
opened the trap-door which led behind a hedge, and was reconnoitering.

"I shall be very sorry to part from you, Estella!"--he seized her hand
and held it tightly--"very sorry indeed!"

"You must come and see me," she replied, softly, as she turned
pale--"that is, if you come to Marambo within a week."

"I will certainly come, Estella." He suddenly caught her tightly in his
arms. "Oh, Estella, don't you understand me? Perhaps I am impetuous,
but I love you fondly, passionately--have loved you from the moment we
first met on the steamer!"

"Oh, Howard--Mr. Sherwood," she faltered, but could go no further.

"Nay, Estella, you must hear me ere we part. The times are dangerous,
and we cannot tell what may happen before we meet again. I love you
as only a man can love the woman of his heart! You are my all in all!
I would be the happiest man alive if you would love me in return,
dearest, darling Estella? Say you will! Look into my eyes and say you
will some day be my own true wife!"

He caught her to his breast, and she lay on his broad bosom drinking in
his passionate words silently, joyfully, her heart echoing his wishes,
eager to tell him how wildly she loved him in return, longing to clasp
him still tighter, to pour a wealth of kisses over his handsome face.

"You don't speak, Estella," he went on. "But you are not angry--your
beautiful eyes tell me that. What is the trouble? Why is your lovely
face so clouded?"

"Howard!" It was but a single word, yet how full of entreaty, of
misery, of despair! She freed herself from his embrace and held him
from her, even against the wish of her own wildly throbbing heart. "Oh,
Howard, don't for my sake as well as for your own, please don't!" she
cried at last.

"But, Estella?" There was a gentle reproach, entreaty, nay,
supplication in these tones. He strove again to embrace her, but her
upraised hand made him desist.

"You do not know!" she wailed at last. "You ask too much of me!"

"Too much! Oh, Estella, my darling, the light of my life, don't say
that! I am poor, I know, but----"

"It is not that! I do not care for riches! A woman would be rich to
possess the love you would give to her! But--but----" She broke down
utterly. "I can never be yours, Howard!"

"What!"

"I can never be yours, Howard--as much as you love me, and as much as I
may care for you. I am betrothed to another."

"To another?" He uttered the words like one in a dream--like a man
at the bar receiving the sentence of death. "You then love somebody
else--you are pledged to another?"

"Yes, I am to marry another man," she replied, ignoring his first
question. She wanted to say more--to offer some explanation--but her
poor heart was too full.

Heartbroken, he looked at her in bitter silence for fully five seconds.
Then he drew himself up, and a hard, cold, proud look settled over his
face.

"I see I was mistaken in you," he said, slowly and distinctly, in a
tone that cut like the edge of a dagger. "I thought your heart was
free. You were merely amusing yourself--merely flirting. Allow me to
bid you good-night."

He bowed and tipped his hat, then sprang for the ladder. She took a
step forward, but before she could stop him he was gone--gone with a
mad rage and pain in his heart--he knew not, nor cared not where. Her
beautiful eyes filled with tears; she gave one mighty sob, and then, as
Cara descended the ladder, to learn the cause of Estella's agitation,
she fell senseless at her maid's feet.

CHAPTER VII.

"ASSIST ME TO GET RID OF THEM, AND I WILL REWARD YOU WELL!"

"Duped! Made the plaything of a willful Spanish beauty!"

Such were Howard Sherwood's bitter words, as he left the vault, strode
past Cara, the maid, and forth into the darkness of the tropical night.

His heart was like a lump of lead, while his brain seemed on fire.
Estella's revelation had come to him like a thunderbolt out of a clear
sky.

"She is to wed another! She knew this, and yet she let me go on. It
was unmaidenly, extremely reprehensible!" He grated his teeth. "Well,
that's my first experience in love, and I'll take care that it shall
be my last! Henceforth I'll devote myself strictly to business."

With a kind of grim satisfaction he remembered that he had his letters
once more. Now he could visit the various rebel leaders without delay,
and learn what they might have to say for publication.

He strode on and on, not knowing in what direction, and caring
still less. He was in no humor for retiring, and would doubtless
have continued his pedestrianism all night had not an unexpected
interruption occurred.

"Vayase Vms!" (Go away, you!)

The sharp cry, coming from the opposite side of the street Howard was
traversing, caused the young war correspondent to come to a sudden
halt. In the dim light he saw a tall, heavily bearded man in the grasp
of two dirty rascals. One of them had the man by the throat, while the
other was trying to steal his gold watch and chain.

"Vayase Vms!" cried the gentleman again, and he began to struggle
desperately to free himself. But the footpads were strong, and deftly
threw him upon his back.

"Hold on there!" exclaimed Howard, running up. "What are you up to
here?"

The footpads, who could not understand English, stared at him sullenly,
taken by surprise.

"They would rob me, señor," gasped the gentleman, speaking with the
strongest Spanish accent. "Assist me to get rid of them, and I will
reward you well!"

"I don't want any reward to help you beat off thieves," returned
Howard, and, leaping closer, he struck one of the rascals a stinging
blow in the face. "Begone, before I shoot you full of holes, you
miserable curs!"

They did not understand the words, but the blow counted for much, and
when his pistol came into sight, one spoke to the other, and both
promptly took to their heels.

The Spanish gentleman had been fighting the pair for several minutes
previous to the young war correspondent's arrival, and now it took him
some time to get his breath and adjust his attire. While he was doing
this, Howard noticed that he was a noble-looking man, well past middle
age, and that on the breast of his coat was pinned the badge of the
Royal Army Legion of Spain.

"I have much to thank you for, señor," said the Spanish gentleman,
when he had recovered his breath. "The rascals would have robbed me of
everything, even at the cost of my life!"

He held out his hand, and they shook warmly. Then the man looked at
Howard, curiously.

"Do you not speak Spanish?" he asked in that tongue.

"Muy poco, señor," (Very little, sir), returned Howard, frankly.

"An Americano, then, I presume," went on the gentleman.

"Yes, and fresh from the States," and Howard smiled.

"You have done me a great service, señor--I shall not forget it. I
should have come out better prepared for such ruffians. Dios! but this
war is responsible for many things!"

"That's true. Can I be of further assistance to you, sir?"

"I fancy not, though I am out on a strange mission to-night. May I ask
your name, señor?"

Howard told him. The Spanish gentleman was about to give his own in
return, when, with a wild shout, half a dozen Cuban rebels appeared
on the scene, closely followed by a detachment of Spanish soldiers.
A dozen shots were exchanged, and in the tumult and excitement the
young war correspondent and the man he had so gallantly helped became
separated, and for the time being Howard was not aware of his identity.
Had it been disclosed, Howard would have been much astonished.

The struggle of the handful of insurgents against so many soldiers made
Howard forget for the moment the trying scenes through which he had
passed, and by a sudden impulse he followed the leader of the rebels,
when the man, a big, burly creole, was forced to retreat.

At a distance of half a dozen city blocks the big fellow turned into a
dark lane and came to a halt, his bloody machete, or war-knife, held
high in the air, ready to strike dead the first to follow.

"Quien va?" he shouted, asking to what party Howard belonged.

"Cuba!" was the young war correspondent's ready answer. Had he said
Spain, the bloody machete would have split his skull in twain.

"What want?" growled the creole. "No cheat!"

"I am honest with you," said Howard. "I want you to do me a favor, for
which I shall pay you well."

"What I do for you?"

"Take me to your nearest leader."

"So you can spy? No, not for all the gold in Cuba!" replied the creole,
loyally.

"I do not want to spy. I am an American newspaper man, and I want
reliable news. We cannot get it from the Spaniards, you know."

The creole swore a savage oath.

"That is right, señor--they tell all lies of us. Come with me, but
remember, if you tell me a lie you die!"

He caught hold of Howard's arm, and led the way back into the darkness,
around half a dozen squalid streets, and into a building which had
once been used as a tobacco storehouse. Here they were stopped by a
sentinel, but the creole gave the proper password, and in another
moment Howard found himself in the presence of three well-dressed and
intelligent-looking Cuban tradespeople. At the same time the door he
had entered was closed and locked behind him.

At first the rebels were suspicious of him, but a perusal of the
letters he carried convinced them that he was honest in pretensions,
and then they willingly gave him such information as they desired
circulated in the United States. Howard took down in short-hand all
they had to say, and in less than an hour was ready to depart again.

"You will remain in Santiago?" asked Captain Miguel, the leader of the
party.

"I will until I get a chance to steal away," said Howard. "The Spanish
authorities have refused me the password."

"You might obtain that, Señor Sherwood, but it would do you no good.
They allow no one to pass unless he is personally known to somebody in
charge. But if you wish very much to leave, I will arrange it so you
can go by boat across the bay. On a dark night there will be no danger
of attack from any of the gun-boats, and it will be easier to pass the
lines from over there than from here."

After a brief consultation Howard decided to accept Captain Miguel's
offer, and promised to meet the captain on the following evening at
nine o'clock. This arranged, Howard rewarded the creole with a gold
piece, and was given directions to get to his hotel.

The work on hand drove from the young war correspondent's mind all
thoughts of Estella. All night he labored on his letter to the press
association, and the precious epistle was placed in safe hands for
transmission on the first outgoing steamer.

The following day was a busy one for Howard. He had to procure the
proper outfit in which to rough it on the road, and this was no easy
matter. Finally, however, money used freely brought what was desired,
and the proper time found him at the appointed place. Although he had
looked about eagerly for Estella, he had seen nothing more of the girl
he had so madly, and as he now thought, hopelessly loved.

It was a cloudy night, just proper for the perilous undertaking at
hand. The boat was manned by four sturdy negroes, and pushed off
silently from under one of the deserted docks. The negroes could not
talk English, but Captain Miguel had assured Howard that they knew
their business perfectly, and all the young war correspondent must do
was to be silent until a landing was made.

In and out among the boats at anchor wound the row-boat, the quartet
of negroes rowing swiftly and silently. In vain Howard tried to pierce
the darkness ahead, and he wondered that the men did not lose their
reckoning.

Howard well knew the tremendous risk he was running. Only three
days before a party of six men had been killed on this same bay for
attempting to cross without permission. Discovery would most likely
bring to him a similar fate.

But he was not afraid. To tell the truth, the bitter parting with
Estella had made him reckless.

"It won't matter much if I am killed," he thought, dismally. "To think
of her married to some dark-skinned, homely spaniard----"

Swish! Bang!

A rocket had gone up, not over fifty feet to the leeward of them. The
trail of fire was followed by a flood of light overhead that illumined
the waters for several hundred feet around.

The negroes gave a shout of terror, and well they might. The boat was
headed directly for a large gun-boat, one of the long guns of which was
pointed directly at them!

"Surrender! or we'll blow you to pieces!" came in a loud tone of
command, and as the light of the rocket died out a flash-light was
thrown upon the scene.

Howard waited to hear no more. Softly and silently he slipped overboard
into the water and dove out of sight.

CHAPTER VIII.

ESTELLA'S APPEAL.

"Oh, my mistress, what is it?" cried the ever-faithful Cara, as she
rushed to Estella's side and raised up her young mistress.

"It--it is nothing, Cara, nothing!" murmured the beautiful young
woman, as with a shudder she recalled what had occurred. "He--he--is
gone!"

"Señor Howard? Yes, he has gone--he fairly ran away! Did he----"

"No, Cara, it is all right that he should go! But, oh!" she gave a deep
sob, "to say that of me!--that I flirted with him, when my very heart
is breaking!"

She threw herself into Cara's arms, and for a long while her frail body
was torn by such a fierce gust of pain, anger, and anguish, that even
the maid grew afraid.

"Don't go on so, my darling," she said. "Remember, we must away from
here. It is not a safe place in which to stay! Not only are there
Spaniards about, but city thieves and murderers----"

"Lead the way; I will follow, Cara," returned Estella, faintly. "But,
child," she caught the maid's arm. "Of this scene, not one word to any
one, I command you."

"My lips shall remain sealed," replied the maid, and led the way from
the vault into the open air. The seminary grounds were now deserted,
and they met no one as they returned to the hotel they had left so many
hours before.

Once in the room prepared for her, Estella found herself completely
exhausted, both mentally and physically. She had delivered the letters
as agreed, but at what a fearful cost!

"He will never come near me again!" she moaned, when left entirely
alone. "He will go back to the United States thinking me only a
heartless flirt, unworthy of the love of any man! And I--I will have to
return to the plantation and marry Lieutenant Mazenas! How I hate the
very thought of that man! It will be a living death! I cannot bear it!"

For two hours she tumbled and tossed on her bed in the depth of her
awful misery. The approaching marriage seemed to her to be worse than
the approach of death would have been.

In the midst of it all there came an unexpected knock on her door just
as the first streak of dawn was beginning to show in the east. It was a
hotel maid who had aroused her.

"Your father, Doña Corona--General Corona!"

She sprang up in surprise. She had not expected him to come to her,
after sending Cara. She was still dressed, having felt in no humor to
disrobe.

"I will be ready in a minute, tell him," she said, and rushed to the
washstand to make herself presentable. He came in while she was still
at her toilet, trying hard to hide the traces of her many tears.

It was a warm embrace that the old general gave his daughter; with all
his outward sternness and inflexibility he loved his only child dearly,
and this he did not hesitate to show when the two were alone.

"My little girl!" he cried, in the softest of Spanish tones, as he
gazed lovingly upon her. "You look pale, you have been crying! What is
the trouble?"

"Oh, it is nothing, papa," she replied. "But what brought you? Cara
said you could not leave the plantations."

"I came in to purchase some guns," was the reply. "Matters are growing
warmer. These devilish rebels must be taught a lesson."

"Oh, but, papa, are they so much in the wrong?" she asked, earnestly.
She had hoped to find his ideas changing.

"Wrong? Of course they are wrong! Had I my say I would string them all
up, or put them to the machete! The kingdom of Spain must be upheld!"

"But, papa, they have suffered--they are taxed so heavily!"

"So am I taxed, but I don't complain. They have no right to resist, to
turn traitors!" He stamped his foot and began to walk up and down the
apartment. "Estella, I am glad I sent for you to return. I see your
sojourn in the United States has done you no good, so far as loyalty to
our mother country is concerned."

"I believe Cuba should be free!" she murmured, impulsively.

"Free! Do I hear aright! My child talking like that!" General Corona
began to grow purple in the face. "Estella, who put those silly ideas
into your head? Cuba must and will remain as she is! I will myself
return to the army, to fight for Spain, if need be! I am glad I came
to Santiago to see you safely home. As soon as I can purchase the arms
I am after, we will start for the plantations, and I will talk this
silliness out of you. You must not think of becoming a little Cuban
rebel!"

She started back. A little Cuban rebel! Just what her friends had
called her!

"You have been crying," he went on. "Is it possible that you have
shed tears for the rebellious rascals, the fellows who ought all to
be in Spanish dungeons? Fie on you, Estella! You ought to be more of
your father's daughter! But, then, women always were strange!" And he
stopped to kiss her on the forehead.

"When did you come to the city?" she asked, to change the subject.

"At midnight. I expected to arrive earlier, but the rebels stopped the
train. They are growing very bold. And while hunting up you and Cara, I
was stopped by two of the rebels on the streets here. The rascals would
have robbed me of my watch and money had not an American gentleman come
to my assistance."

"An American gentleman!" said Estella, eagerly. "Did you learn his
name?"

"Yes, but I've forgotten it. I wanted to reward him, but a few more
rebels came along, and the soldiers followed, and I lost sight of him.
I believe he was a rebel sympathizer--the worse for him!"

"Almost all Americans sympathize with the insurgents," said Estella.

"So I have heard. They are foolish, like others I know of here. But
let us not discuss the subject further. You have not yet asked me of
Lieutenant Mazenas. You cannot imagine how anxiously he awaits your
coming."

At these words Estella turned deadly pale. She had expected something
like this, yet she was far from being prepared.

"I--I did not care to ask about him," she faltered. "I presume he is
quite well."

"Ah, Estella, I see you are as willful as ever, when it comes to
loving the noble young man who has resolved to devote his life to his
country's cause. I cannot imagine why it is thus. The lieutenant is a
model young man, and comes of one of the finest families on the island."

"Yet even that cannot make me love him," she returned, firmly. "I have
nothing against him personally, saving that he has wormed his way into
your good graces----"

"Silence, child! Speak not thus of so good a patriot! You should be
thankful that he has asked for your hand!"

"Well, I am not!"

"That shows what studying abroad has done for you--put silly notions
into your head. I am thankful that I recalled you to your home; the
influence here will be so much better for you. If you had any admirers
in the United States, I trust you left them all behind."

"I had none there," sighed Estella, as her mind rushed to the noble one
she had made on the steamer.

"So much the more strange that you did not take to the lieutenant. But
you will no doubt like him better when you are his wife."

"Oh, father!"

What a world of meaning there was in those simple words! She rushed
toward him, her beautiful hair falling over her shapely shoulders, and
threw herself on her knees at his feet.

"Don't ask me to marry Lieutenant Mazenas!" she cried, entreatingly. "I
cannot do it! It will break my heart!"

"Nonsense, Estella; hearts are not so easily broken. You are young--you
do not look at the world so soberly as older folks do. The lieutenant
is a good man, and his wealth----"

"I do not want his money!"

"You disregard the power of money, child. In this case it will place
you in the best of society in Cuba--in Spain. What more can a woman
want than that?"

"She may want love, papa--love, worth more than all the riches of
kings!"

"Bah, Estella! That is but the rant of the actress in the play! Love! I
would not give a fig for love nowadays! The age of romance has gone by.
Turn to the lieutenant, and you'll be as happy as a woman can be."

"No! no! no!" She sobbed, as she essayed to endearingly throw her arms
about his neck. But he pushed her off.

"By the way you go on I would almost believe you had left a lover
behind," he said, severely. "If it is so, listen to me. You must cast
him aside forever. I have promised the lieutenant that you will marry
him within the week, and you must go to him heart-free."

She gave a moan of actual pain, but he was deaf to all entreaty.
Instead of listening, he drew a card from his pocket and consulted it.

"The train leaves at twelve o'clock," he said. "I will be ready an
hour before that time, and you must be. Unless you have shopping that
must actually be done, you had better remain in the hotel, for fear
of becoming involved in these street skirmishes, which appear to be
altogether too frequent. Is Cara here?"

She nodded her head. She couldn't command her voice sufficiently to
speak.

"Then let her go out for you. And now mind what I said, Estella; drop
the past, and look only to the future. The worthy lieutenant said he
would be in waiting, with a guard, on the arrival of the train at
Marambo. You must show him how much you appreciate the honor he is
about to confer upon you. The chances are that before this war is over
he will be a general, like myself; for when money is added to valor, it
means quick promotion."

With these words he pressed a kiss upon her icy forehead, and quitted
the room. She sank down on a couch and covered her face with her hands.
She had tried to ward off her coming fate, and had failed!

CHAPTER IX.

"ESTELLA, MY QUEEN, HENCEFORTH NOTHING SHALL SEPARATE US!"

"No, no! I will never consent! Rather than consent to such an unholy
alliance I will seek safety in flight!"

It was half an hour later when unhappy Estella sprang up uttering the
above words. She had turned the whole situation over in her mind, and
had reached the determination that, rather than be forced into this
detestable marriage, she would run away.

"I can join the Rebel army," she went on. "They need help in their
hospitals, and I know a good deal about nursing, thanks to my lessons
in medicine at Vassar. I will wait until the last minute, and then fly!"

The very thought of personal liberty seemed to give her strength; and
when Cara came in she found her young mistress bustling around in a far
brighter mood than she had expected.

"We must do some shopping, and then be back by eleven o'clock," said
Estella. "We take the train for home at twelve."

"There will be no train before six o'clock to-night--maybe not until
even later," replied the maid. "I heard them talking about it down
stairs. The rebels have torn up a portion of the roadbed."

To Estella this was good news. She wished to remain in Santiago as long
as possible. She might perchance see Howard, and then----She did not
speculate further; she only hoped for the meeting.

The two went out and did their shopping in the quaint stores that
abound on the main thoroughfare, and then Estella paid a visit to a
leading jeweler's establishment. When she came forth she had in her
bosom a beautiful bejeweled dagger. It had taken all of her money, but
she felt more secure with the weapon in her possession. There was no
telling what might occur should she run away.

Noon came, and the general appeared with the information that the first
train would not start until half-past eight in the evening. He said no
more about Lieutenant Mazenas, being full of war news, and of the fact
that the rebels had attacked so many trains.

"They may attack this train to-night," he said. "If they do, I will
join in fighting them off!"

He would not allow Estella to go out after luncheon, and so the
afternoon wore away slowly until it was near six o'clock. Suddenly
Cara, who stood by the window of the room, uttered a cry of recognition.

"Señor Sherwood!" she whispered, that the general, who was writing at a
table, might not hear. Estella sprang to the open casement and was in
time to see Howard turning a far corner. He was not looking toward her,
but in the opposite direction.

"Gone!" she murmured, as he disappeared. "I wonder how long he will
remain in Santiago?" she speculated, never dreaming that he intended to
leave by row-boat that very evening.

"Did you speak, Estella?" asked the general, abstractedly.

"No, papa," was the reply, and the girl held up a warning finger to
Cara, who nodded.

"I fancy," General Corona continued, still scratching away with his
pen, "the lieutenant will soon have his hands full. He is guarding a
section of the railroad, you see."

"Then he ought not to think of marrying until the war is over,"
returned Estella; and the general, who was just then too busy to argue,
allowed the subject to drop.

At first Estella was tempted to leave the hotel, in the hope of meeting
Howard, but she reflected that her father might grow suspicious, and
then, too, the young war correspondent had been walking so rapidly it
would now be next to impossible to overtake him.

"And he may not want to see me," she thought, but, woman-like, she
would have been willing to risk that.

Dinner was served, and at the time mentioned they were at the railroad
station, where were gathered some fifty people, anxious and brave
enough to take the trip into the interior. Soon the train came along,
the engineer's cab and tender protected by sheets of iron, and guarded
front and rear by a dozen picked Spanish soldiers. It did not take the
crowd long to get aboard and find what they considered were the safest
places.

Without a whistle or the ringing of a bell, the locomotive and the two
cars started on their way, the people on the platform wishing those on
board a safe journey to their various destinations. Whether the train
would go through safely was highly problematical.

Estella and her father occupied a seat in the first car, with Cara
opposite to them. The general was highly excited, and soon went forward
on the platform, to speak to the soldiers stationed there.

The train stopped for a minute on the outskirts of the city, and then
went on at an increased rate of speed, word having been received that
the line was clear for the next eight miles.

Alas! the information proved erroneous. Scarcely a mile had been passed
when there came a quiver and a shock, and the locomotive and cars left
the track, and ran off into the edge of a swamp.

The locomotive went over on its side, but no one was seriously hurt.
The cars remained standing, the wheels sunk deeply in the water and
mud.

In the darkness Estella looked about vainly for her father, who had
still been outside, talking to the Spanish soldiers. The soldiers
themselves had gone off, and the sounds of a conflict in an adjacent
sugar-cane field told that they were essaying to punish the rebels
who had thus balked the government's desire to run a train through to
Bayamo. Shots arose, and wild cries for mercy, as the bullets were
answered by a fierce use of the deadly machete.

"We must get away from here!" cried Cara, in terror. "Come, dear
mistress!"

"But, papa----" began Estella.

"Your father has joined the soldiers in the fight," responded a
stranger, who stood near. "I saw him draw a pistol and leap from the
car with them."

For the instant Estella's face blanched, as for the first time she
realized what war and carnage really meant. Then silently she took
Cara's hand and they left the car by the back way, leaped to the dry
ground beyond, and walked after those who were headed back to the city.

She had gone a distance of less than quarter of a mile when a shout
arose in the direction of a road which runs down to the bay. The shout
was followed by pistol-shots, and in an instant later a man came flying
up the road, hatless, and dripping to the skin.

"Howard Sherwood!"

The figure came to a sudden halt, as though stopped by the challenge of
a sentry.

"Estella!"

"Where are you going? Where have you been?"

"I tried to get out of the city by crossing the bay--we were
discovered--I swam from the row-boat to shore," he panted. "They are
even now on my track--do you hear them? What are you doing here?"

"We were on a train that was thrown from the track," rejoined Estella.
"But you have no time to waste if you would escape. See the torches
approaching! Fly! fly instantly!"

"But, Estella----"

"There is not time for a word, much as I wish to speak to you," she
interrupted.

"But you are alone, unprotected--the others have left you behind. And
there is no telling what those rascally soldiers will do," he went on,
with a groan. "Would that I had a good gun and a sword--I would stand
here against a dozen of the cowards!"

"There is the cane-field," hesitated Estella. "You might hide there.
Over to the north the rebels are fighting the soldiers from the train.
You might join them and thus reach a place of safety."

"And leave you alone here, and at night? Never, Estella! I love you
too well for that, even though you are to marry another," he replied,
fervidly.

"Oh, Howard!" A happy flush came to her face. "Then you still love me?"

"Love you, Estella! You are my heart's idol!"

"Then listen!" She bent her ruby lips close to his ear. "I told you I
was to marry another man. The marriage was arranged against my wish, by
my father. I have made up my mind that, rather than marry him, I will
run away. Oh, take me with you, Howard!"

He stared at her like one in a dream, then caught her to his breast,
all wet as he was, and kissed her madly, passionately.

"Estella, my queen!" he murmured. "You cannot realize how happy you
have made me! And you will fly with me? Then come, darling! Henceforth
nothing shall separate us!"

"Surrender!" came in a loud, mocking voice close behind them, and,
wheeling about, Howard found himself confronted by three Spanish
officers.

They closed in upon him immediately, and at the point of the sword he
was made a prisoner, and his hands were bound tightly behind him.

"We thought we would capture you," said the leader of the Spaniards,
sarcastically, "although you both swim and run well!"

"Captain Nocolo!" cried Estella, as the light of a torch flared over
the man's face.

"Estella Corona!" was the surprised reply. "What means this--that we
find you in the company of this American spy?"

CHAPTER X.

"OH, FATHER IN HEAVEN, PROTECT THY CHILD,
WHO IS NOW LEFT UTTERLY ALONE!"

"Who says I am an American spy?" demanded Howard Sherwood, before
Estella had a chance to reply to the Spanish officer's question.

"Who says so, my fine fellow?" sneered Captain Nocolo. "Never mind who.
You are caught--that is enough."

"I am a newspaper correspondent----"

"Bah! we have your history, never fear." Captain Nocolo turned to his
men. "Look to it that he does not escape."

The soldiers at once surrounded Howard again, and thus he and Estella
were separated.

"Howard----" began the beautiful girl, but the captain interrupted her.

"Excuse me, but you must not converse with him now," he said, catching
her by the arm.

"And why not. He and I are friends----"

"No doubt, no doubt," was the suggestive answer. "But I cannot allow
you to talk. Men, take him to the sugar-house."

With scant ceremony the soldiers caught hold of Howard, and, despite
the young war correspondent's objections, dragged him along to a side
road, and out of hearing of Estella's voice.

"Captain Nocolo, this is--is infamous!" burst from the girl's
quivering lips. It tore her heart with anguish to behold her noble
lover so ill-used, especially as he had been captured through his
desire to shield her from injury.

"Perhaps you do not know that man as well as I," returned the Spanish
captain, with a frown. "I have his history, girl, and a bad one it is."

At this announcement Estella turned sick at heart. Was it possible that
Howard was not all he pretended to be? Was he really a spy, or worse?
She dismissed the idea almost immediately. The man who loved her, and
had won her heart, could not be anything but upright and honest in
intent and action.

"I know enough to tell you that you are making a mistake," she said,
boldly. "He is an American citizen, and has done no wrong, and you are
only making trouble for your government."

"My government? And why not your government--our government, Miss
Corona?" said the Spaniard, quickly. "Is it possible you have turned
rebel, too? But, bah! why ask, when we caught you in his company."

"I am a Cuban, and I live and will die for Cuba!" exclaimed Estella,
proudly. "Where are you going to take him?"

"To the guard-house at Jiguani, to keep company with a half-hundred
rebels already captured. Come!"

As the captain concluded, he took Estella by the arm and tried to lead
her in a direction opposite to that taken by Howard and the guards.

She attempted to resist, but found herself no match for this thin,
dyspeptic-looking, but wiry fellow. The more she resisted, the tighter
he held her.

"Let me go, Captain Nocolo," she finally cried, as she found herself
bound, she knew not whither.

"Ah, my darling Estella!" he murmured in her ear, at the same time
assuring himself that no one else was within sight, "it was indeed good
fortune that threw you in my way. When last we parted at Havana, two
years ago, I was unutterably sad; but now----"

"Let me go, I say!" she interrupted. "You have no right to detain me,
to lead me off----"

"I will not harm you, beautiful Estella," he went on, gazing insolently
into her face with his cold, penetrating glances. "But when a soldier
runs across so fair a being as you, she must perforce pay toll ere she
proceeds on her way."

As he finished he caught her around the waist. His action was
suggestive. He meant to steal a kiss from her ripe lips.

"Dare to touch me, and you shall suffer for it!" she panted. "Your
insult shall not pass lightly!"

"Ah, Estella, you speak heedlessly. Remember what I know against
you. What if I should report that I found you in the company of that
American spy? What would the authorities say? What would your own
father say?"

She staggered back as though struck a blow, but as quickly recovered.

"It would be far more to my credit to be found in the company of such
an honorable man than in the company of such as you, Captain Nocolo."

At these words his dark eyes blazed forth with sudden anger, and he
caught her by both wrists.

"You shall pay dearly for that insult!" he hissed. "I will not rest
with one kiss--I will take a dozen, and more!"

He attempted to press her to his breast, when, without warning, he
received a heavy blow on the back of the head, and with a groan he fell
forward, all but unconscious.

"The brute! I will teach him a lesson!" came in the well-known voice
of Cara as, dropping her stick of granadilla wood, she rushed to
Estella's support. "It is well I hid in the sugar-cane when they came
up, otherwise they would have made me a victim, too."

"Cara!" burst from Estella's bloodless lips. "Is he--he dead?"

"No, darling; such brutes are not so easily killed. But come, let us
fly!"

"Fly? In which direction? Where can my father be?"

"The fighting over in that field has ceased. Perhaps it will be best
for us to return to the train," responded the maid.

"But what of Señor Sherwood?"

"They took him off and put him in a wagon, I believe. Come, come! ere
Captain Nocolo recovers."

Thus urged, Estella gave a last look at the prostrate form before her,
and then quitted the vicinity. Arm-in-arm with her faithful maid, they
made their way over the dark road to the railroad tracks, and thence to
where the train lay derailed.

As Cara had said, the battle in the cane-field had terminated, and now
only an occasional shot could be heard. When they reached the cars
they found the guards returning, bringing with them their wounded
comrades, and several prisoners of war. The prisoners were chained hand
to hand and foot to foot, and made to stand in a group, and endure the
most brutal treatment without a protest. One man, who had had his arm
broken, and who pleaded for surgical aid, was hit on the head with the
stock of a gun, and knocked senseless.

"Oh, this is awful!" murmured Estella. "Why do they thus treat
prisoners? They are human beings, like ourselves."

"The Spanish soldiery hate all Cubans," whispered Cara. "They would
kill and torture all, had they the chance."

"Where can my father be?" questioned Estella, turning from the awful
sight with a shudder.

"Let us look among the crowd," suggested the maid, and they started
off; but the search, which lasted for fully half an hour, was without
success.

"He is not here; can it be he was slain!" murmured Estella, as a
strange horror began to fasten itself upon her young heart. "Cara, what
think you? Tell me the truth!"

"Let us go to the battlefield and look," suggested the maid, evasively.
"We can borrow a lantern, and no one will molest us women while we walk
among the dead."

"Yes! yes! we will go! I cannot endure this suspense any longer!"
exclaimed Estella, as she pressed a hand to her burning brow.

The lantern was readily procured from a train hand, and they set off,
directed by one of the soldiers. In ten minutes they were in the midst
of such a scene of carnage that Estella's heart was depressed with
horror.

On all sides of them, amid the trampled cane-stalks, lay the dead, some
on their backs, some on their knees, as if trying to crawl away to some
spot to die. Many were the pools of human blood, and in more places
than one the sugar-cane was dyed with human blood.

"Horrible! horrible! I cannot bear it!" gasped Estella, as her brain
began to reel. "I must leave it, Cara. Come!"

"I see nothing of your father," said the maid, holding the lantern
aloft and gazing around. "Look! Look!" she added, suddenly, and pointed
ahead.

"What is it?" asked Estella.

"A soldier, alive! See! he is beckoning to us. Poor man, let us go to
him!"

"Yes, yes! Perhaps he was left for dead!" replied Estella, readily.

They ran to the side of the soldier, and found he was badly wounded in
the side, from which his life's blood was oozing rapidly.

"A drink!" he murmured, so faintly that Estella could scarcely hear
him. "A drink!"

There was a little spring close at hand, and Estella ran and procured a
tin-cupfull of water. He tried to drink, but could not, and the effort
brought on a fit of coughing.

"I am done for!" he sighed, and for the moment he closed his eyes. Then
he opened them again. "It was a fair fight, I suppose," he rambled.
"Did he die, as I am to die?"

"He! Who?" asked Estella.

"The man who faced me. Let me see! Ah, yes, he called himself General
Corona; he was brave, too, but he didn't escape entirely, I know that.
I thrust at him with my sword, and he fell--but I fell first----" He
gave a gasp. "Maybe he is dead, and we'll meet in the other land. Yes,
I pressed him close--the thrust was near his heart--Cuba libre! Cuba
lib----!"

The last word ended in a cough. Estella sprang forward to raise up the
soldier, but alas! there was no use of so doing. He was dead.

The cane-field seemed to swim before the beautiful girl's eyes. What
had the soldier said--that he had fought her father--pierced him to
the heart with his sword! Could it be true, and was her only remaining
parent now dead? She gave a piteous cry, and buried her face upon
Cara's bosom.

"He is dead!" she moaned. "I feel it--I know it! Oh, Father in Heaven
be merciful to me--protect Thy child, who is now left utterly alone!"

CHAPTER XI.

"BACK! IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE!"

Cara had been mistaken when she supposed Howard had been carried off
in a wagon. A wagon had been used for several other prisoners, but
Howard had been tightly bound with rawhide thongs and lashed to the
back of a mule, which was then led away by one of the soldiers who had
accompanied the detachment on horseback.

It was apparent that Howard need expect no favors from those who had
him in charge. They considered him a spy, and as such destined to be
finally shot; therefore, what was the use of kindness to him? He was
jeered at and beaten, and when a halt was made for the night, at a
plantation farm-house, he felt more dead than alive.

Yet in the midst of his sore troubles the young man did not think
only of himself. He wondered where Estella and her maid were? Had the
beautiful girl returned to her father, or was she still alone and
unprotected in the district, now overrun with Spaniards and rebels?

"Would to Heaven I knew she was safe," he murmured. "I shudder at the
thought of the perils that environ her."

With half a dozen other prisoners Howard had been confined in the
cane-house, that is, the building in which the sugar-cane is sometimes
stored. He had been thrown rudely upon the mud floor in one corner of
the building, and a sentry had adopted the precaution of searching him
and taking away his weapons and the precious letters.

It was a damp, disagreeable place in which to be confined, but Howard
realized the uselessness of grumbling, and said nothing. One of the
other prisoners protested, and was promptly kicked for complaining.

"I do not wonder the Cubans rebel," he thought. "This treatment by the
Spaniards is sufficient to make even a worm turn."

Outside of the building a dozen Spaniards were encamped, the plantation
home being too crowded to accommodate them. The soldiers killed a small
pig, roasted and ate it, but offered nothing to their prisoners. It
looked as if they would have been delighted to have seen Howard and the
others starved to death.

At last, the camp outside of the cane-house became quiet, as one after
another dropped off to sleep. Presently but one soldier was awake,
the man at the cane-house door, left there on guard. He sat on a box,
smoking one rudely made cigar after another, and his long gun rested
across his knees, in readiness for use.

Immediately after being thrown down in the dark corner, Howard had
begun to pull and strain at the thongs which bound him. This was
painful work, and for a long time it seemed as if it would be useless,
also. But finally he managed to free one hand, then the other hand, and
then his feet quickly followed.

Turning over silently, Howard looked toward the guard, and by the light
of a smoking lantern hung over the doorway, he saw the man in the act
of lighting a fresh cigar. He immediately rose, and carelessly advanced
to the fellow's side. A quick movement, and he had the gun presented at
the head of the dumbfounded guard.

"Silence!" he commanded, in Spanish. "A word and your life will pay the
forfeit!"

The man's teeth began to chatter, and he quaked from head to heels. He
opened his mouth, but not a sound escaped him.

"Move on to yonder trees," went on Howard, in a whisper, as he pointed
the way. "And, remember, no noise."

Still trembling violently, the guard obeyed the order, and the
two found themselves beyond sight and hearing of those about the
cane-house. Howard made the guard walk still farther, however, until
all danger of being overheard was past.

"Now, answer my questions," he said, sternly. "Who is in command of
this body of men?"

"Captain Nocolo," was the prompt reply. The guard did not dare to
hesitate, for fear of death.

"Captain Nocolo. Where does he come from?"

"Santiago, señor."

"Do you know anything concerning him--his former business?"

"He was in the land business, señor--he bought and sold plantations."

"Who was in business with him?"

"One or two of the Mazenas family were with him."

"Ah! as I thought!" murmured the young war correspondent. "One of the
very chaps who cheated my uncle Robert out of his fortune. What strange
fate has brought us together!"

"You know him, señor?" questioned the guard.

"I know of him," returned Howard, bitterly. "Where is he now?"

"He went off with the young lady, and has not yet returned."

Howard started. Captain Nocolo had gone off with Estella? What could it
mean?

"Where did they go?"

"Down toward the bay, señor."

"What was done with my papers?" went on the young war correspondent.

The man hesitated before replying.

"They were burned----" he began, when Howard thrust the gun muzzle into
his face. "Dios, señor, don't shoot me!" he yelled. "I will give up
all."

And, without delay, he produced not only the precious letters, but
also Howard's pistol and several other articles, which the young war
correspondent quickly stored about his person. Howard was about to bind
and gag the man, when the tramp of horses' hoofs rang out close behind
them, and two men rode up, one close behind the other, as if to support
him.

"Hold! what means this?" cried the leader of the pair, as he drew rein.
"It's lucky we came up by the back way, Captain Nocolo. Here is a
prisoner escaping."

"The American spy!" burst from Captain Nocolo's lips, as he raised his
bruised head. "Shoot him, Lieutenant Mazenas!"

"And who is he!" questioned Lieutenant Mazenas, as he gazed fixedly at
the young war correspondent.

"Howard Sherwood--the heir of Robert Sherwood!" whispered Nocolo.

"Diablo!" growled Lieutenant Mazenas, hoarsely. "He is far better dead
than alive!"

With drawn sabre he urged forward his horse, intending to strike Howard
dead at his feet.

But the young war correspondent was too nimble for him. He leaped to
one side, and aimed his gun.

"Back, if you value your life!" he said, warningly.

Lieutenant Mazenas paid no heed, but charged forward again. The hammer
of the gun fell with a sharp click, but the gun, an old piece, failed
to go off.

"Ha! we have you now!" hissed the lieutenant. "Throw him down!" he
shouted to the guard, and leaped from his horse, intending to make
Howard a prisoner again.

Finding the gun useless, the young war correspondent turned to flee.
But the quarrel, brief as it was, had aroused those around the
cane-house, and the soldiers quickly surrounded him. With a vigorous
blow, Howard stretched one man senseless, and then a dozen pounced
upon him, and he was borne to the ground, and kicked and beaten until
unconscious.

"I have the inclination to kill him where he lies!" hissed Captain
Nocolo, as he stood by Howard's side, a grim smile of satisfaction on
his bony face. "But for him, the fair Estella----"

"What is it you say of Estella?" demanded Lieutenant Mazenas, glaring
savagely into his companion's face. "Remember, by the terms of our
contract, you relinquished her to me, heart and hand!"

With a muttered curse Captain Nocolo turned away to his men, while
Mazenas gave orders that Howard be removed to an old stone building
some distance from the cane-house. This was done, and when he came
to his senses, Howard found himself inside of four stone walls, and
heavily chained.

"I am in a worse pickle than before," he thought, dismally. "A prisoner
of Captain Nocolo, and Lieutenant Mazenas, and they both wish me out of
the way. It will be a miracle if I escape with my life!"

Hour after hour went by until dawn came on.

Then, all chained as he was, Howard was taken outside and strapped once
more to the back of a mule.

A journey lasting the best part of the day followed. It was over roads
deep with mud, made worse by the feet of hundreds of horses, and in a
blazing hot sun, which struck down on his uncovered head and made him
dizzy and faint. At noon he was released and given a portion of meat
cooked in a pot with garlic, but he could not eat the nauseating mess.
Water was all he desired, and this was given him, scooped out of the
muddy hollows by the wayside.

Dear reader, do not fancy that this is an over-drawn picture, painted
merely for the purpose of working upon your feelings. The picture is
painted from life; and what Howard Sherwood suffered, hundreds of
Cubans, fighting for that one priceless boon, Liberty, have suffered.
In many cases, to be made a prisoner was worse than to be killed,
for it meant galling chains, hunger, thirst, beating, and possibly
starvation. Is it a wonder that these hardy rebels, when engaged in
conflict, fought like demons, and came out victorious even when the
opposing forces were two and threefold larger than their own? It was
the dread of what might happen should defeat overtake them, that
steeled their hearts and hands, and made them know no such word as
surrender.

The end of the day found the party in sight of Marambo, and half an
hour later, Howard and his companions in chains, were driven like
cattle into the large stone building.

Once inside, Howard was conducted by special order to a narrow cell at
the farther end of a long corridor. Here he was chained fast to an iron
ring in the wall.

"Now you can remain there to rot, unless you are destined to be shot,"
said his jailer, and left him to his bitter reflections.

CHAPTER XII.

"WILL YOU WED ME, OR SHALL HOWARD SHERWOOD GO TO HIS DEATH?"

In vain Cara tried to comfort poor Estella; the beautiful girl's grief
was so great no words reached her heart to soothe her.

"Oh, Cara, Cara, what shall I do?" she moaned. "Poor, dear papa! Dead!
dead! dead!" and in her agony she threw herself down upon a heap of
sugar-cane, while the hot tears ran swiftly down her bloodless cheeks.

"Do not go on so, dear mistress," said the maid, gently, as she raised
up the weeping girl. "Remember, he may not be dead. The soldier, poor
fellow may have been mistaken."

"No, no, Cara, he is dead! Do not deceive me! Oh, my poor father! And
in a fight that was little better than a bloody brawl!"

For half an hour she went on in this manner, and then, weak and
fainting, she threw herself into Cara's arms, and knew no more.

When Estella recovered consciousness she found herself on a cot in the
humble hut of a bee-hunter. The sun was shining in brightly at the
window, and Cara sat beside her, rubbing her slender, nut-brown hands.

"Oh, sweetness, how glad I am that you have recovered!" cried the maid,
the honest tears of pleasure standing in her eyes. "I was afraid you
would never open your eyes. For six long, weary hours have I sat and
watched. No, no! You must not attempt to rise yet," she went on, as
Estella attempted to do so. "You are not strong enough. There, there!
keep quiet, my darling."

Estella was indeed weak, as she soon learned. The strain of the night
previous had been too much for her, and she gladly remained quiet
while Cara bustled about, questioning the wife of the bee-hunter, and
preparing her young mistress something to eat.

Lying there on the cot, Estella stared up at the smoked ceiling and
wondered if it was really true that her father was dead. It was a long
while ere she could summon sufficient courage to ask Cara if the body
had been found.

"No, it was not found, but they brought this," replied the maid, and
produced General Corona's black slouch hat, with the heavy braid. On
one side the hat was stained with human blood.

The appearance of this made Estella burst into tears again, but it was
the clearing-up shower, and the calmness of resignation soon succeeded.
The hat was wrapped up and taken by Cara, and the weak girl consented
to partake of some of the really dainty food set before her.

Estella's grief, sharp as it was, could not drive away a thought of her
handsome lover. Where was he now, and would she ever see him again?
Alas! little did she realize that at that minute he was strapped to a
mule's back, and on his way to the old prison at Marambo.

From the bee-hunter, who came in later with the information, they
learned that the railroad tracks as far as Marambo had been put in
order once more, and that a train would leave for that town in half
an hour. Arrangements were speedily made for transportation. Estella
had no money, but her name was sufficient to secure passage for both
her and Cara. The run was quickly made in the broad daylight, without
interruption, and Estella arrived at the town several hours before the
guards with their prisoners.

The extensive plantations belonging to the Corona estate lay half a
mile or more out of the city limits, but a hostler from the stables
was on hand, with three magnificent animals, and the remainder of
the journey home was quickly made. From afar Estella saw the snowy
white pile that comprised the home, rising out of a cluster of palm
and mahogany trees. A wide path of coral and shells led to the broad
veranda, and here, on their approach, gathered all of the domestics and
a number of the plantation hands to welcome her home. No one was there
that had not a warm spot in his or her heart for fair Estella, for
never had a mistress been so uniformly kind and considerate.

"Welcome! Welcome, Doña Estella!" they cried, and one after another
kissed her hand. She received them all warmly, but with a sad smile,
and the word quickly went the round that the master was missing, and
it was supposed that he had been killed in a skirmish with the rebels.

For the remainder of the day Estella waited anxiously for news from
her father and from Howard, but none came. She was in no humor to even
visit the different apartments of the home, and walked nervously up
and down the veranda, on the lookout for any messenger that might be
approaching. Ah, what a sad home-coming had been hers! What did the
lowering clouds of the future hold in store?

The evening shadows were falling over the hills behind the great
plantation, when she saw a man on a white horse riding rapidly toward
the house. Her heart beat quickly. He must certainly bring news.

But her face fell and took on a cold look as she recognized the
equestrian. It was Lieutenant Mazenas, who had ridden over to learn
if she had yet arrived, after seeing to it that Howard was a prisoner
beyond the possibility of escape.

He came up with a grand flourish and a wave of his hand, and
dismounting at the steps hurried toward her with a hypocritical smile
upon his narrow, sallow face.

"Home at last, I see!" he exclaimed, as he caught her hand. "Thrice
welcome back to Cuba, fair Estella."

He would have pressed a kiss upon her hand, but she drew it away, and
with a formal bow led the way into the house.

"Your father, the general, has also returned?" questioned the
lieutenant, but little abashed by this freezing reception.

"No, he has not returned. Do you know aught of him since he went into
that skirmish near Lomori, last evening?"

"What! Was he in that engagement? I knew nothing of it. I thought he
had gone to Santiago, to see you and your maid safely home."

As he spoke the lieutenant again essayed to imprint a kiss upon her
hand, but she would not allow it, and now his face grew dark.

"Why draw away, pretty Estella?" he said, passionately. "Do you not
know what your father has promised me?"

An icy shiver swept through Estella's frame. At last she was face to
face with her fate!

"Lieutenant Mazenas," she said, as calmly as she could, "you must not
presume too far. You must remember that, no matter what my father has
said, I have not yet given my consent."

"Do you mean that you would disobey your father?" he asked, harshly.

"I mean to say that, come what may, I will never marry you," she
returned, firmly.

"And why not, Estella? I am rich, I can place you in a high social
position----"

"Enough of that, Lieutenant Mazenas. I do not love you, and I cannot
marry the man I do not love."

"Tut, tut, child! Marry me, and I'll warrant that love shall come
afterward. Nowadays very few marry because they love at the start. A
marriage of convenience is far better."

"Perhaps--in your eyes, not in mine," she said, proudly, and in her
mental vision rose the form of her noble lover, Howard Sherwood.

The lieutenant's eyes began to blaze with hatred. He turned, then came
close to her, and glared deeply into her startled eyes.

"I see how it is," he half snarled. "You have a lover, and you love
him! You cannot deny it!"

"I do not have to deny it!" she cried, stung into the confession. "I
love him, and he is worthy of my love."

"And who is this lover? Some American, I'll wager a hundred piasters!"

"Yes, he is an American, and as brave and as noble as any Cuban or
Spaniard that ever lived!"

"No doubt, no doubt," he sneered. "In your eyes, at least, he is a
paragon of valor. And has he dared to follow you to Cuba?"

"He was on his way thither----" She paused. "You have no right to
question me. Unless you wish to see me upon business for papa, I will
retire."

"Then you do not intend to keep the promise your father made in your
behalf?"

"No."

"I will force you to do so," he hissed, in a fury. "I will make you
marry me!"

"Stop! Not another word, or I will have the servants show you out of
the house, Lieutenant Mazenas. Remember, while my father is away, I am
both master and mistress here."

He turned fairly white, and muttered an oath under his breath. Then he
suddenly caught up a slip of paper that had fallen from the pocket of
Estella's gown. It was a note Howard had written on shipboard, with a
few verses, and sent to her. She had treasured it, never dreaming what
an important part it was to play in her drama of life.

"To Estella, from Howard Sherwood," read the lieutenant. He gave
a sudden start. "Ah, my beauty, I have found you out!" he cried,
triumphantly. "The name of your lover is Howard Sherwood."

"I will not deny it," replied Estella, firmly, although she blushed a
deep crimson. "Now go--not another word from you!" she cried.

"I'll not go just yet, fair Estella," responded the lieutenant, as he
laid the note on the table. "So he is your lover, eh? And how much do
you love him? Enough to save his life?"

"Man!" Estella started back. "What--what do you mean?" she faltered.

"Listen, and you will soon learn, Estella. Howard Sherwood is now a
prisoner in a dungeon cell of one of our strongest prisons----"

"Merciful Heavens!" burst from her lips.

"He is a prisoner," continued Lieutenant Mazenas, "and he will most
assuredly be put to death as a spy, unless you consent to save his
life."

"And how can I save him?" she burst out, eagerly.

"There is but one way. I have charge of him, and one word from me and
he will be led out blindfolded and shot. I will give him his liberty,
on condition that you become my wife at once."

"And if I refuse?" She gasped out the words faintly.

"If you refuse, I swear that he shall not live to see the rising of
to-morrow's sun. Now take your choice. Will you wed me, or shall Howard
Sherwood go to his death?"

CHAPTER XIII.

"YOU HAVE SIGNED HIS DEATH-WARRANT! HE SHALL DIE WITHIN THE HOUR!"

Like one transfixed with sudden terror, Estella listened to the cruel
words of Lieutenant Mazenas, and they burned deeply into her young
heart. She must either marry this man, or her lover, the light of her
life, would be put to an immediate and cruel death.

"You--you wretch!" she gasped, when she could manage to speak. "Do you
call yourself a man, to come here with such a base proposition?"

He frowned, and then laughed an unnatural laugh.

"Remember, my fair, untamed beauty that in war all is fair, and so it
is in love. Besides, I am asking no more at your hands than your father
has already promised."

"You are a villain, Lieutenant Mazenas, to thus seek to enslave me to
you. To bring about Howard Sherwood's death, even under the guise of a
war measure, would be nothing short of murder."

"He is a spy--he deserves death," muttered the Spanish soldier, not
liking her final words.

"He is no spy--in the sense that is meant in the army. He is an
American newspaper correspondent. The most you can do with him is to
expel him from the country."

"We can shoot him; it will be done, too, unless you become my wife,"
he answered, doggedly. "Come, fair Estella, why repulse me longer. See
what I offer you, see----"

"Enough! There can be no thought of love between you and me. I hate and
despise you, Lieutenant Mazenas! I would not marry you even to save my
own life----"

"But how about saving the life of Howard Sherwood?"

"He would not ask so great a sacrifice at my hands. He is too manly,
too noble; he has too deep a regard for me."

Again the Spaniard muttered an oath under his breath. "Dios! can
nothing move her?" he asked himself.

"Then he shall die!" he cried. "I will have him shot at sunrise!"

"No, no! Spare his life!" she gasped, and then suddenly fell upon her
knees before him. "Oh, say you will not do this awful deed!"

He gazed at her with a half-smile of triumph upon his lean, yellow
features. Was she beginning to weaken? It would appear so.

"I told you to take your choice," he said. "Marry me, and he shall
go free. Nay, more than that--I will give him a passport which will
enable him to enter the army lines at pleasure, so he can gather what
information he will for publication, and I will pay his way."

"Ah! then you would turn traitor even to your own side!" she sneered.
"Marry you? Never! never! never!"

She repeated the word, as if to thus fortify herself against him. In a
rage he stamped upon the matted floor with his cavalry boots.

"You have signed his death-warrant!" he cried. "He shall die within the
hour! I swear it!"

The distant roll of musketry broke in upon the thrilling scene. The
lieutenant started and leaped to the doorway to listen, while Estella
ran to the window.

"Diablo!" muttered the soldier. "An engagement! Those dirty rebels
have kept their word. We must rout them for good!"

He turned to Estella, and came so close that she shrank from him.

"Remember what I said," he hissed in her ear. "This battle now starting
in the direction of Jocanjo may delay the carrying out of my plan. But
it will surely be carried out, unless you change your mind, and consent
to be my wife."

With these parting words he hastened from the room, and a moment later
was on his horse and galloping away at the top of the animal's speed.
With her heart beating furiously, she listened to his retreat. Then,
struck by a sudden thought she rang the bell for a servant.

"Send Tomasso to me instantly, and have a horse saddled for him," she
ordered.

The servant ran off, and soon a tall and not bad-looking man appeared,
one of the plantation overseers.

"Tomasso," said Estella, "I know I can trust you in everything. You saw
Lieutenant Mazenas ride away, did you not?"

"Yes, sweet mistress," was the overseer's reply. His admiration for
Estella was almost as great as his love for Cara, the maid, who had
promised to one day be his wife.

"Quick! take a horse and ride after him, and watch him closely. He
has in his charge a prisoner named Howard Sherwood, an American. If
possible learn where Mr. Sherwood is kept, and at once report to me."

"I will do it," said the man, eagerly. "I think I know where the
American was taken, but I am not sure."

After a few more words, Tomasso hurried away, and, looking from the
window, Estella saw him ride off in the direction Lieutenant Mazenas
had gone.

The roll of musketry still continued, but instead of drawing closer, it
seemed more distant, showing that the battleground was shifting farther
from the plantation. For this Estella was thankful, for she knew that
once the estate was reached destruction would quickly follow, for the
torches of the combatants would speedily lay buildings and fields in
waste.

Yet her lover's impending fate was just then of more consequence to
her than the possible destruction of her father's vast property. She
felt that sooner or later Lieutenant Mazenas would keep his word.
She shuddered at the thought of marriage with this man, yet to think
of Howard being shot in consequence of her refusal, made her soul
sick with horror. For the time being even the fate of her father was
forgotten.

"Heaven be merciful!" she moaned, as she walked the floor and wrung her
hands. "What shall I do? I cannot, cannot, cannot remain here, when so
much depends upon my action!"

Cara came in and tried to soothe her, and in return Estella poured her
tale of woe into the maid's sympathetic ear.

"Rest easy; Tomasso will watch for you," said Cara; but this did
not satisfy Estella. For a few moments she seemed engaged in deep
reflection; then she suddenly ran to the door.

"Cara, have a horse saddled for me!" she cried. "I am going out----"

"But it is night--after ten o'clock!" cried the maid.

"Even the perils of darkness shall not stay me! I must find Howard--to
delay would be a crime!"

She ran up stairs to change her dress, and Cara acted upon her command.
Five minutes later Estella was off, riding toward the town. She knew
that she could learn from the keeper where Howard was confined. She
never dreamed that she was so near her lover.

The night was not very dark, and she could plainly discern objects some
distance ahead of her; and as the horse she was riding knew the road
well, she had no fear on that score. But the country was in a tumult,
and both armies were followed by a set of vagabonds--guerillas who were
out, not for patriotism, but for gold.

The top of a hill reached, Estella guided her horse down toward the
valley on the other side. As she descended she fancied she saw a
camp-fire glimmering through the plantain trees ahead. As she went on
she heard voices in the darkness.

"Where are you going?" suddenly demanded a harsh voice, and a tall,
gaunt man sprang from the bushes and grasped her horse by the bridle.

"You must not detain me!" cried Estella, and she cut the man over the
hand with her riding-whip.

He muttered an oath, but did not let go his hold.

"Come here!" he bawled to several companions, and immediately Estella
was surrounded.

The heart of the fair girl sank within her as she looked into the
repulsive faces of the men who had thus rudely detained her. That they
were neither insurgents nor Spanish soldiers, she saw at a glance. They
wore the dress of gipsies, but evidently they were outcasts.

"Lead the horse to the fire, Murillo," said one of the men. "Make the
woman stay where she is."

"What would you of me?" demanded Estella. "If it is your intention to
rob me, take my purse, and let me depart." And taking her purse from
her pocket, she flung it on the ground.

Two of the men ran for it, and the one who secured it uttered a hoarse
laugh as he stowed the dainty bead-worked receptacle in his bosom.

"Very good, for a start!" he chuckled. "But we want more--that diamond
at your throat, and those precious drops in your ears. And, mayhap, my
lady has a gold watch in her breast."

"And the horse is what we need," put in another of the rascals. "We
have but three, while there are four of us."

"Take all I have with me, but leave the horse," cried Estella,
bitterly; but they would not listen to her words. While two of the men
watched her, and prevented her from leaping to the ground, a third led
the horse down a side trail to the camp-fire in the valley.

"You are rich," said the leader. "Mayhap it would be well to hold you
for a ransom," and he winked wickedly at his companions.

"Ay! Ay! hold her, by all means!" exclaimed the other men. "She will be
worth a fortune to us!"

"Where shall we take her?"

"To the cave. That is the safest place hereabouts," was the reply.

"Very well--the cave it is. Put out the fire, and make haste."

The men held a hasty consultation among themselves, and in such low
tones that Estella could not hear what was said. Then the camp-fire was
scattered and trampled upon, and the camp equipments taken up.

"Now we are off!" cried the leader, and with a nimble leap he sprang up
behind Estella on the horse, and clasped the frightened girl around the
waist.

CHAPTER XIV.

A DASH FOR LIBERTY.

Aching in every joint, and too worn out to either move or speak, Howard
Sherwood threw himself down on the hard bench in his narrow stone cell
in the Marambo prison, and was soon fast asleep.

When he awoke, there were faint streaks of dawn in the east, and
presently a single ray of sunshine shone in at the narrow window high
over his head. The glad light shone but a few minutes, then it passed
on, not to return until the next day, for the window was scarcely four
inches wide, and would admit the sun only when that luminary occupied a
position directly opposite.

A tramping in the prison yard beyond had aroused Howard--the tramp of a
number of other unfortunates who were taking their daily exercise.

Howard hoped that he, too, would be given an opportunity to fill his
lungs with fresh air, but this boon was denied him. He was kept in
solitary confinement until almost the noon hour, the only one to visit
him being a jailer, who brought a bowl of cooked meal and a piece of
black bread.

"How long am I to remain here?" questioned Howard, but the jailer
merely shook his head.

"Cannot talk to you, señor," he said. "Against Captain Nocolo's orders."

"Is the captain around?"

"No, he went off to battle."

Howard placed his hand in his bosom, where he had a number of gold
pieces concealed. He drew out one of the pieces, and held it before the
jailer's eyes.

"Why not be friendly, and talk to me a little," he said, suggestively.

At the sight of the gold the jailer's eyes glistened. He walked to the
corridor, looked out to see that no one was in sight, then came back
and held out his grimy hand.

"I am a poor man, otherwise I would not take the señor's money," he
said, apologetically. "What is it the señor wishes to know?"

"How long I am to remain here."

"I cannot answer that. It depends upon the orders received from Captain
Nocolo and Lieutenant Mazenas."

"They are in charge here?"

"Yes. Captain Nocolo takes charge of the rebel prisoners from the
plantations, and Lieutenant Mazenas the prisoners from along the line
of the railroad."

"Where have these two gone?"

"Off to the battle, back of Señor Corona's plantations. The rebels are
there, burning the cane-fields."

At these words Howard was much astonished.

"Is Señor Corona's estate close by?" he questioned.

"Less than a mile away."

"And they are fighting there, on the place?"

"The rebels have not yet reached the place itself, I believe, but they
are fast approaching. But they're but a handful, and they will soon be
subdued--either killed or taken prisoners."

The young war correspondent was not assured by this explanation. The
fighting was close to Estella's home, and if she were there, she would
be in grave peril! Oh, if he were but free to fly to her!

"Do you know much of Captain Nocolo?" he questioned.

"Very little, señor; I am a new man here."

"And how much do they pay you for working here?"

The man's face fell. "As yet I have received nothing but promises," he
murmured. "The Government cannot collect the taxes, and so--"

"You must suffer, eh?"

"That is it, señor. But we have promises----"

"Which may never be fulfilled." Howard drew closer. "Listen: I just
gave you a piece of gold. Let me throw you to the floor and take your
key from you, and I will give you ten more pieces of the same weight.
I am an innocent man, so you will commit no crime by helping me to
freedom."

The jailer contemplated Howard in silence and indecision; but as the
prisoner brought out the golden pieces his eyes blazed with greediness.

"Give them to me, señor," he eagerly whispered. "I will let you go. But
you must swear not to betray me!"

"Enough; you have my word. Here is the money. Quick! which way can I
leave the prison the easiest?"

The jailer snatched the gold and put it in his pocket. Then with a leap
he reached the cell door.

"You remain where you are!" he shouted, in mockery. "I am no fool
to----"

He got no farther. With the rapidity of lightning Howard bounded toward
him, clutched him by the throat, and dashed him to the floor.

"Knave!" he whispered, as he bent over him, his knee on his breast, his
hand once more on his throat! "Dare to make a sound, and I will squeeze
the life out of you!"

The eyes of the frightened man bulged from their sockets. He tried to
speak, to beg for mercy, but he could scarcely breathe. Howard held him
down until he was all but unconscious, then took from him, first his
keys, then his knife, and lastly all the golden pieces he had given to
him.

"Mercy!" gasped the jailer. "Do--not--kill--me!"

"Silence!" whispered Howard.

The jailer had a girdle of canvas around his waist. This the young war
correspondent used to bind the man's hands and tie him fast to the
bench, first, however, taking from him his coat. Then he gagged him by
shoving a big piece of the black bread in his mouth and keeping it in
place by tying his handkerchief over it and around the back of the head.

"Now remain quiet. If you kick, or otherwise make a noise, I will come
back and finish you. Do you understand?"

Almost white with terror, the jailer nodded, shivering as Howard
flourished the keen-edged knife before his face. Coward to the core, he
was completely subdued.

As quickly as possible Howard donned the jailer's coat, then he placed
the fellow's hat on his head, drawing it well over his eyes. The floor
of the cell was covered with dust, and this the young war correspondent
did not hesitate to rub over his face and hands. He was essaying a
desperate game, and he must avail himself of every possible chance to
escape detection.

Once outside of the cell, he locked the door. Then he peered up and
down the corridor. Another jailer was coming along, several bowls of
food in hand, and he turned and walked in the opposite direction.

"Guito!" cried the approaching man, but Howard pretended not to hear,
and turned an angle in the corridor to get out of sight.

Soon he came to a door, and, opening it, passed out into the prison
yard. It was paved with stone and surrounded by a wall fifteen feet
high. To climb this was now the all-important question.

Two prisoners were in the yard, sweeping up some refuse that had
accumulated there. Each was chained to an iron ball which weighed at
least fifty pounds. Both of their faces bore the hopeless look of those
who have suffered confinement for years.

Howard turned back into the prison, and began to search for a stairway
leading to the second story. It was soon found, and he mounted
silently, his ears strained to catch the first sound of an alarm.

The upper floor of the prison gained, Howard began to make an
examination of the windows. They were all either heavily barred, or too
narrow to admit the passage of his body.

Turning from them regretfully, yet full of hope still, he made his
way to a set of rooms marked "Private Office." A door was ajar, and,
peering in, he saw a luxuriously furnished apartment. To his great joy,
he saw that it was empty.

He slipped inside, and perceived that he had entered a room used by the
keeper of the prison as an office. On the walls hung various weapons,
and on a desk lay half a dozen large books of prison records.

The records did not just then interest him, and he turned to one of the
two windows. Both were shut and barred, but to his intense delight he
saw that in one place a bar was loose.

He was trying to noiselessly open the window, when he heard rapid
footsteps in the corridor without. The footsteps came closer, and
Howard had just time to conceal himself behind a big arm-chair, when
the door was flung open and Captain Nocolo entered, followed by the
head-keeper of the prison.

"Yes, I want to interview this Howard Sherwood," Captain Nocolo was
saying. "He is a----"

An alarm from below cut short his words. Howard's escape had been
discovered, and in less than a minute the wildest excitement prevailed.

"Guard every door, every window, and all the walls!" was the order
issued. "He has not yet left the building, and must be found!"

CHAPTER XV.

THEY HAVE SET A PACK OF BLOODHOUNDS ON OUR TRAIL.

Howard scarcely dared to breathe as he listened to Captain Nocolo's
ominous words. He crouched still closer to the chair as the captain
walked to one of the windows to look out.

The head-keeper of the prison had left the apartment at the first
alarm, and was now below, leading one party, that was searching the
various cells and corridors.

The young war correspondent felt that if he was to escape, the deed
must be accomplished quickly. In a few minutes more the entire outer
walls of the prison would be under guard.

He gazed at Captain Nocolo and at the open window, longingly. Should he
make the attempt. He would!

As stealthily as a cat, he left the vicinity of the big arm-chair,
and on tiptoe advanced upon the captain. He was within a yard of the
Spanish officer, when the latter turned sharply and confronted him.

"You!" exclaimed Captain Nocolo. He had not time to say more, for
Howard leaped upon him, and tried to hurl him to the floor.

A fierce struggle followed, a struggle for liberty or death. The
captain was a strong man, and, in peril of his life, he fought madly
and long.

But Howard's blood was now fully aroused, and in the end he was
victorious. A well-directed blow on the neck stretched Captain Nocolo
unconscious.

There was not a minute to spare. Already footsteps were approaching the
room. Howard looked eagerly at the weapons hanging upon the walls of
the apartment, but he dare not take the time to arm himself. He leaped
to the open window, glanced down to see that the coast was clear, and
dropped to the ground.

Just as his feet touched the soft earth a shot rang out, and a bullet
whistled over his head. A sentry on the prison wall had fired at him.
In less than ten seconds it was known that he was outside, and the
searchers rushed out pell-mell in pursuit.

The window from which he had effected his escape looked out upon a side
street, and down this narrow thoroughfare Howard made his way, running
at a greater speed than that shone in the old days of sprinting at
college.

A hundred yards were passed, and the young war correspondent espied a
fine horse tied to a palm tree in front of a small shop. He jerked the
strap clear and leaped upon the animal's back.

"Don't go so fast!" roared a voice from the shop, and a fat planter
came out, riding-whip in hand.

"A necessity!" returned Howard. "Here is gold for the horse," and
he threw down several pieces. Ere the planter had time to argue the
point, Howard had urged the horse forward, out of his hearing. It was a
spirited animal, and made rapid progress, and soon the prison was left
far behind, and the outskirts of Marambo were reached.

The young war correspondent had no idea where he was going. Every road
was strange to him. Yet he knew that he must place many miles between
himself and the authorities before he could consider himself even
temporarily safe.

A turn in the road Howard was pursuing brought him down into a vale,
lined upon each side with palm trees and dense bushes. As he pushed his
way along he frequently looked back, but could discover no signs of
pursuit.

After an hour's hard riding even the horse showed signs of fatigue.
A low cabin came into view, and here Howard dismounted and rapped at
the door. A negro woman answered his summons, and readily agreed to
sell him something to eat. She had not much to offer, but Howard was
voraciously hungry, and ate what there was with a keen relish.

Once more he set out, and soon the end of the valley was reached, and
he began to ascend a hill. Beyond Howard could see a long, flat stretch
of country, but before this could be reached the horse without warning
plunged one leg into a large ant nest, or hole, and sank to the earth
in a heap, uttering a sharp cry of pain as it rolled over, which told
only too plainly of a broken leg.

Howard quickly realized that he must now continue his flight on foot.
The horse was worse than useless, and, to put him out of his suffering,
the young war correspondent considerately ended his life. Then he went
on, along a foot-path at the brow of the hill, until, fatigued to the
last degree, he halted near some flat rocks, and sat down to rest.

Presently, the murmur of voices broke upon his ear. He listened but for
a moment, then sprang to his feet in amazement.

"You must write the letter, my dear lady, or all will not be well with
you," came in a rough Spanish voice. "We must have gold, or you shall
never see home and friends again."

"You are a villain!" came in the sweet, but indignant voice of Estella.
"I will not write for you."

"Then you'll take the consequences, miss. We gipsies know how to bring
obstinate people to terms. We have wasted too much time on you. Write
at once."

A spell of silence followed. Howard stepped forward to learn whence the
voices proceeded.

"Help! help!" suddenly cried Estella, in a voice that caused Howard's
blood to boil in his veins. "Father in heaven! will nobody aid me?"

"Unhand her, you rascal!" came in a commanding voice from Howard, as he
appeared at the mouth of the cave in which Estella was confined, and
then darted toward the gipsy who held her in his loathsome arms.

"Howard!" gasped Estella, in joy. "Oh, save me! save me!"

"Fear not, my darling, I will!" he ejaculated; and leaping upon the
gipsy he clutched him with a grasp of iron, and hurled him with great
force against the rocks. The shock made the rascal's bones fairly
crack, and he muttered a coarse oath as he plunged his hand into his
bosom to draw his dagger.

"None of that!" commanded Howard. "Up with your hands, quick!"

Thinking Howard would shoot him, the gipsy raised his hands. Like a
flash the young war correspondent tripped him up, and took his dagger
from him. A pistol fell to the floor of the cave, and this Howard also
secured.

"Is this man alone, Estella?" Howard asked.

"Just now he is. He had several companions, but they have gone away on
some mission."

"How came you to fall into their hands?" he went on, and, blushing
sweetly, she told him of how she had left home to search him out in his
prison. She also told how she had been robbed, and said the rascal on
the floor had the stolen articles.

"Hand them over!" said Howard, sternly, and when this was done he made
the man get up, and actually kicked him out of the place, watching him
closely until a distant bend in the foot-path hid him from view.

"Oh, Howard, you cannot imagine how glad I am that you have escaped!"
exclaimed Estella, a happy light coming into her soft eyes as she bent
them full upon his smiling face. "Do you know that your enemies were
ready to kill you?"

"What enemies?" he questioned; and, blushing more than ever, she told
him of the meeting with Lieutenant Mazenas. He listened attentively,
and then drew her to his manly bosom.

"My darling, my brave little queen!" he murmured. "You are indeed a
sweetheart worth the winning!" and he kissed her again and again,
while she looked up into his eyes in confidence and contentment.

After all their trials, this love-making was very pleasant; but all
love-making must come to an end, and prudence bade them take heed. It
was not long before Howard warned Estella that he must go on.

"Perhaps you had better go with me part of the way," he said. "We may
be able to find your horse, and, even if otherwise, I will try to see
you safely on your way to your father's plantation. In the future, it
would be well for you to shun the unworthy lieutenant."

"I shall scorn to speak to him," she said, proudly; and he kissed her
tenderly for the words.

They left the cave, following a path directly opposite to that taken by
the gipsy, and presently found themselves at the edge of a large field
of sugar-cane. Here Estella advised a halt.

"If I am not mistaken, this is the entrance to one of the fields owned
by my father," she said.

"Then you cannot be very far from your home," returned Howard.

"The plantation is a large one, and we must be fully a mile from the
house, Howard. Let us go along the road a bit, until I make sure that I
am right."

They continued their way, and soon Estella was convinced that the field
was one of their own. A small tool-house was reached, and beyond was a
road running directly to the barns. Howard came to a halt.

"I must leave you now, Estella," he said. "To go on farther with you
now would certainly cause you trouble."

"You intend to leave me?" she asked, quickly. "Oh, Howard, do not!"

"But I cannot remain. The lieutenant will grow suspicious, and have
the place watched, and it is no light matter to harbor an escaped
prisoner----"

"I will run the risk, Howard. Do not go and leave me absolutely alone
in that house."

"Your father may have come back----" he went on, still hesitating.

"I doubt it," she returned, a sudden sadness coming into her voice.
"Poor papa! oh, how I hope that he is still alive! But, come, do
not----"

Estella abruptly paused, as a deep baying of dogs broke upon their
ears. She turned pale and almost sank at Howard's feet.

"Bloodhounds!" exclaimed her lover, and instinctively drew his pistol.

"Oh, Howard, they have set a pack of bloodhounds on your trail!" cried
Estella. "We are lost! They will tear us to pieces!"

Scarcely had she spoken when three growling and savage bloodhounds
burst from cover down the foot trail, and came running at full speed
toward them, their long, white teeth gleaming in the sunshine and the
flecks of foam dropping from the corners of their cruel mouths!

Howard and Estella clung lovingly to each other, as the bloodhounds
advanced upon them with mad leaps.

They were in deadly peril, and it seemed as if they were indeed lost!

CHAPTER XVI.

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.

It was an exceedingly great peril which had menaced Howard and Estella.
The advancement of the three savage bloodhounds was rapid, and both
knew only too well that if once the baying beasts got at them, all
would quickly be over. The bloodhounds were especially trained to
follow human beings, and would not hesitate to rend them limb from limb.

Yet in that awful moment the young war correspondent did not think of
himself, but only of the beautiful girl at his side. Willingly would he
have died a dozen deaths rather than allow her to be touched. His heart
went out to her, and he instantly caught her to his breast, as if to
thus shield her.

The sugar-cane field was on one side of them. On the other were bushes,
and farther on, trees of various kinds. Raising Estella in his arms,
Howard made a dash for the nearest of the trees.

"Never mind me, Howard," murmured the noble girl; "save yourself."

"Never, Estella, my love!" he replied. "They shall not touch you if I
can possibly prevent it."

The vicinity of the trees was reached none too soon, and raising
Estella high over his head, Howard enabled the girl to catch hold of
the limbs of a mahogany tree, and lift herself to a safe place. He was
about to climb after her when the nearest of the bloodhounds caught him
by the foot and dragged him back.

A man less quick-witted would have been lost; but as he fell the young
war correspondent drew the pistol he had taken from the gipsy. The
bloodhound pounced upon his breast, only to receive a bullet in its
throat which killed him almost instantly.

The two remaining beasts lagged behind, and before they reached the
scene of the exciting but short encounter Howard had reached the lower
branches of the tree, and was temporarily safe.

"Oh, Howard, did that dog bite you?" gasped Estella, as she clung
closely to his arm.

"No, his teeth did not penetrate the boot, thanks to the thickness of
the leather," he replied. "But I am afraid we are in a bad situation
now," he went on. "The pistol has but one cartridge left in it, and
there are two dogs."

"And the prison officers will follow on horseback," moaned Estella. "It
will not be long before they arrive."

Howard said nothing, but set his teeth hard. He would not give up
without a brave struggle for liberty. Taking careful aim at one of the
remaining bloodhounds, he fired.

The wound did not kill, but it was mortal, and with a whine of pain the
savage brute turned tail and slunk away. Seeing this, and noting that
the other dog was dead, the third beast hesitated for a moment and then
turned and ran back, as if to await the arrival of his masters.

"The coast seems clear now," said Howard, when the bloodhound had
disappeared. "Come! let me conduct you to your house, and then I will
be off."

"If that third beast should return----" shuddered Estella.

"I have this," said her lover, drawing the dagger. "I will fight him to
the last."

He assisted Estella to the ground, and the two hurried through the
sugar-cane fields until they came in sight of the various out-buildings
belonging to the plantation. Presently a horseman rode up to them. It
was the faithful Tomasso.

"I could not find out anything----" began the servant, when Estella
stopped him.

"Mr. Sherwood is here," said the beautiful girl. "Tomasso, I wish to
trust you still further."

"Yes, Doña Estella."

"Señor Sherwood is in dire peril. His enemies are hunting him as
a rebel spy. Can you not take him to some place of safety in this
vicinity?"

Tomasso scratched his head and thought for a moment. Cara had told him
how dear Howard was to his young mistress.

"I can take him to the cane-house, and he might hide in the
sweet-potato pit," he answered.

She shook her head. "No, that will not do. Do you think----" she
hesitated. "Could he not find a place in our house? There are many
rooms not in use. He might go in disguised as yourself."

"But, Estella----" remonstrated the young war correspondent.

"No, no, Howard. I know you do not wish to place me in danger. But I
have a fear of something--I cannot tell what--and it would give me
confidence to have you near me."

At this Howard said no more. A plan was rapidly formed, and the upshot
of the matter was that Howard entered the plantation home disguised as
Tomasso. The servant's clothing was afterward returned to him, and he
went off to explain to some approaching horsemen how he had been called
upon to fight off the bloodhounds in order to save the life of his
young mistress!

"Then you saw nothing of that rascally American spy, Howard Sherwood,"
asked Captain Nocolo, who was one of the horsemen.

"No, capitan," replied Tomasso. "He came not this way," and after
cursing over the loss of two of the bloodhounds, the captain and the
others rode away.

Howard was conducted by Estella to a small room in a wing of the
mansion. He had a key to the door, a heavy one, and was to unlock
it only on a given signal. The room was comfortably furnished, and
Estella's lover saw that he could pass the time there comfortably until
it was safe for him to proceed on the mission that had brought him to
Cuba.

Howard was furnished with an elegant repast, brought to him by Estella
herself, and never had a happier hour passed between them.

"You are one girl in a million, darling Estella!" he said,
passionately, as he drew her to him and sat her down, a willing
captive, upon his lap. "I thank Heaven that I was so fortunate to meet
you."

She smiled sweetly upon him, and brushed back the curly hair from his
noble brow. "You make too much of me, Howard; I am only a simple Cuban
girl, nothing more."

"You are my queen, the one light of my heart, Estella!" he asseverated,
embracing her passionately between the kissing.

"There, there! don't be so energetic in your wooing," she laughed,
finally, as she at last resisted his endearments with maidenly reserve.
"I must go below now, or the servants may grow suspicious. In such
times as these they are watching every move."

"No doubt they wish to know how your sympathies stand," he said. "They,
I presume, favor the rebels."

"Undoubtedly, but they know what papa's ideas were on the subject and
they would not dare to cross him."

"It is a pity your father is so prejudiced in favor of Spain," mused
Howard. "He must know that this heavy taxation, with hardly anything to
return for it, is unjust."

"Papa only thinks of the old guard, and considers a rebel a traitor,
and nothing less. Poor papa, I fear that he is lost to me forever. If
he were alive, he would surely come home," and two big tears coursed
down her soft, dark cheeks.

"Don't worry, my darling," he replied, as he kissed the tears away. "If
your father was dead, you would certainly have evidence ere this. He
may have heard of a premeditated attack upon this plantation and gone
off to secure protection. By the way, what of that recent battle in
this vicinity."

"It was upon the De Bruno plantation. The owner refused to pay the
war levy to the rebels, instead of the Spanish authorities, and the
cane-fields were burned to the ground and the barns and store-houses
blown up."

"They may come here next," mused Howard.

"I am afraid of that. If they do, and papa is not back, I shall take
sides with the rebels, not because I fear them, but because I believe
they are in the right," and Estella raised her head proudly.

"Bravo! you ought to be a Yankee!" cried Howard, and then he prudently
lowered his voice. "But let us hope that the insurgents will pass this
plantation without doing any harm, I fancy they will, for, so far as I
can judge, General Gomez and Maceo wish to push on to Havana as rapidly
as possible. If they reach the capital with a sufficiently large force,
the final victory will be with them."

"True; but Havana is still a good way off," sighed Estella. "But now I
must really go," she went on, and gathering up the tray of dishes, she
kissed him and left the room.

She passed down stairs by a back way, and had just set the dishes down
in the dining-room when a servant called her.

"Lieutenant Mazenas is here to see you," said the servant.

"Lieutenant Mazenas!" exclaimed Estella, and all the color left her
cheeks. "Tell him I cannot see him to-day--that I am not well," she
faltered.

"Excuse me, but it is highly important that I speak with you," said
an unpleasant voice from the parlor doorway, and, turning, she found
herself confronted by the lieutenant himself. A crafty smile shone upon
his yellow, repulsive features.

He motioned for the servant to depart and waited for Estella to enter
the parlor. Full of vague fears, the beautiful girl followed him from
the dining-room, and sank down on a couch to hear what he might have to
say.

CHAPTER XVII.

"YOU LITTLE TARTAR, I WILL YET TAME YOU!"

"Apparently you did not expect me back so soon," began Lieutenant
Mazenas, as he dropped into a seat beside Estella. He would have sat
quite close to her, but she arose and seated herself upon a chair.

"No, I did not expect that pleasure," she coldly responded. "You had my
answer; why bother me further?"

"Because matters have taken a change," he said, the smile still visible
upon his face. "Our prisoner, the worthy Howard Sherwood, has escaped."

"I am glad to hear it," she replied.

"No doubt, fair Estella, seeing that you assisted in that escape."

She started; then, as she saw his eyes studying her keenly, she tried
her best to compose herself.

"You do not deny it?" he went on, seeing she did not reply.

"I certainly do deny that I assisted him to escape from prison. If he
got away, it must have been through his own cleverness."

The face of the Spaniard clouded with a frown. He had hoped to corner
her, but had failed.

"You did not assist him at all?" he asked, sharply.

"You heard what I said, Lieutenant Mazenas. If you wish to insult me by
doubting my statement----"

"Far from it, beautiful Estella, far from it. But--but----"

"I am heartily glad to hear the news you bring. I trust that, as Mr.
Sherwood has escaped, he will now manage to keep out of your clutches.
Is there anything else you wish to see me about?"

He could not misunderstand her now, and the smile faded, and a look of
fury blazed forth in his eyes.

"You think you have won!" he hissed, "but you will soon discover your
mistake. As to the news you say I bring, I have reason to believe that
you knew of it, as I had questioned one of your servants before I came
in."

"Well?"

"Howard Sherwood has escaped, but the officers are on his track, and I
have every reason to believe that he will be recaptured before sundown,
in which case he will be shot within the hour."

"You had better go, and at once," she managed to say, but it cost her a
great effort.

"I am not done yet. I wish to know if you are still disposed to be
obdurate regarding the marriage proposal I made to you."

"I shall never change; I cannot consider you in the light of a suitor.
I told you that before."

"Then you wish sentence to be carried out upon Howard Sherwood as soon
as he is caught? Remember, when the prisoner is retaken, his fate rests
with me."

"You had better catch him first," returned Estella. "I fancy, now that
he is free, Mr. Sherwood will know how to take care of himself."

The ring in her voice made him suspicious. He strode up to her and
caught her by the arm.

"You know where he is!" he declared, "even though you may not have
assisted him to escape. Ha! you turn your face away! I am right! Where
is he? I command you to tell me!"

"You can command what you choose, Lieutenant Mazenas, and I will answer
as I choose."

"You cannot defy me in this way. Don't you know that it is a crime to
assist an escaped prisoner, especially a war spy?" he cried. "Were I to
give an order, you would be thrown into a dungeon!"

"Then give the order--if you dare!" she panted.

"You know I will not--that is, if we can come to terms," he added,
hastily.

"The same terms that you mentioned before, I presume," she sneered.

"Yes. Listen, Estella; you must become my wife, sooner or later. Then
why not at once, and thus save yourself further trouble."

"The greatest trouble that could come to me would be to become your
wife," she replied. "I would much prefer a dungeon, with a diet of
bread and water."

Again his anger began to arise. He strode to her side and caught her by
the arm.

"You little Tartar, I will yet tame you!" he cried, in a passion. "I
will teach you to kneel at my feet, even if I cannot make you love me.
You shall be mine--I have sworn it! You have gone too far--I will teach
you a lesson!"

He caught her in his arms, and, despite her resistance, would have
pressed a burning kiss upon her bloodless lips. But at that instant a
side-door to the parlor burst open and a manly form sprang in between
the pair.

"Coward!" cried Howard Sherwood, and slapped Lieutenant Mazenas so
soundly in the face that the Spaniard tottered back, and stumbling over
a foot-stool went down in a heap on the floor.

"You!" yelled the Spaniard, as he scrambled to his feet. "You!"

"Oh, Howard, what have you done?" wailed Estella.

"I have protected a lady from the gross insults of a miserable cur!"
replied Howard, as he eyed the lieutenant steadily. "Are you not proud
of your conduct--you, a Spanish officer?"

"I will have your life for that blow!" yelled the lieutenant, and
drawing his sword he rushed upon Howard, only however, to find himself
looking into the glistening muzzle of a revolver with which his
sweetheart had provided him.

"Diablo!" muttered the lieutenant, falling back several paces. "Put
down that weapon."

"Sheath your sword, and I will do so," replied Howard. "This is no
place to fight, and in the presence of a lady. If ever you wish to meet
me hand to hand, and alone, you will find me ready."

"You Americans can all brag well," sneered the lieutenant, yet he
thrust his sword aside. "I thought you must be somewhere about here.
Your liberty will not last long now."

"Oh, Howard! what will you do?" cried Estella, in terror, as she turned
to her lover. "The lieutenant is not alone. See! four soldiers await
him in the garden!"

Howard turned to look out the window. He saw that Estella was right. At
that moment the lieutenant gave a loud cry to his men.

"The escaped man is here!" he shouted. "Surround the house, and watch
for him!"

"That command will cost you dearly, Lieutenant Mazenas!" exclaimed
Howard, hotly. "Had you permitted it, I would have gone peaceably. As
it is, I must use force. Good-by, Estella!"

He kissed her, and whispered a few words in her ear.

Lieutenant Mazenas was startled, and, ere he could recover, Howard had
his pistol at the officer's ear.

"Clasp your hands behind you," he said sternly. "Refuse, and I swear I
will fire at you! There, that's it. Now walk to the window and order
your men to withdraw to the gate at the entrance from the main road."

"But----" hesitated the lieutenant.

"Do as I tell you, and do nothing more, or your life will pay the
forfeit. I am a desperate man, and will take no chances with you."

Whether Howard meant all he said or not, the words had full effect upon
Lieutenant Mazenas. The heavy heads of perspiration stood out upon his
forehead, and he trembled in every limb. Standing by the window, he
gave the order as Howard had directed.

The soldiers in the garden were puzzled, but obedience is the first
duty of a soldier, and they withdrew without asking any questions.
Howard, from behind a curtain, saw them depart, and a smile of relief
came to his face and to Estella's.

"Now, come with me," went on Howard, and amid much growling on the part
of the Spaniard, he forced Lieutenant Mazenas to go up stairs and enter
a closet in the room he had lately occupied. The door was locked, and
then Howard placed his lips close to the key-hole.

"I will instruct Miss Corona to set you at liberty in exactly an hour,"
he said. "Then my advice to you is to leave the place, and not annoy
her any more. If you come back you will be treated to such a warm
reception that you will never forget it."

A growl was the only reply, and the young war correspondent went below
in company with his sweetheart.

"Oh, Howard! are you going to leave me?" asked Estella, tearfully.

"Leave you? Far from it!" he smiled. "I shall remain right here--the
safest place in the world for me, now that the lieutenant thinks I
have availed myself of the opportunity to escape. But you must find me
another hiding-place."

"I will do it gladly." She thought a moment, then blushed. "There is a
small room opening off my boudoir. No one would suspect that you were
secreted there. Come."

Again they went up stairs, and she took him through her own dainty
apartments. He could not resist the desire to gaze around at the
tasteful furnishings, so typical of her own sweet self.

"Here you will be safe," she said, as they reached the room she had
spoken of. "All you will have to do is to keep quiet, and----"

"Oh, Doña Estella!" It was the voice of Cara, coming from below. "Your
father has come back, and is only slightly hurt. Captain Nocolo is
with him, and they wish to see you at once."

"Papa is alive!" murmured Estella, gladly, then her cheeks paled.
"Captain Nocolo! Oh, what shall I do now?"

CHAPTER XVIII.

"LEAVE THIS HOUSE, AND NEVER LET ME SEE YOU AGAIN
UNTIL YOU ARE READY TO OBEY ME!"

"Your father has come back!" said Howard. "Your fears for his safety
were groundless."

Estella did not answer. She was too busy thinking. The arrival of her
stern parent had completely disarranged her calculations.

"I must go below," she said, at last, after Cara had called her again.
"Remain here, unless----"

"My dear mistress, do you hear? Your father is back!" called the maid,
as she entered the boudoir.

"I am coming, Cara," she returned, and hurried out, making the maid go
before her.

In another minute she was in the parlor, and in her father's arms.
The old general had his arm in a sling, and there were several ugly
scratches upon one cheek, but he declared that his wounds were far from
serious.

"A fellow hit me with his sword and stunned me," he said. "It was a
good thing in one way, for it saved me from being run through the
heart."

"I saw that soldier," said Estella, with a shudder, and told of the
pathetic scene in the sugar-cane at the dying soldier's side. The
general listened with great attention.

"He thought he was killing a real general, eh?" He smiled for a moment
then grew grave. "Well, poor fellow, he's dead now, and I have no doubt
he thought he was in the right."

"They know they are in the wrong, General Corona," broke in Captain
Nocolo, who stood in the doorway. "The rebels are out for plunder, and
that is all. They know full well they cannot win in this struggle."

Estella, who had disdained to notice the captain before, now turned
upon him.

"Captain Nocolo, you will oblige me by withdrawing," she said, coldly.

"Estella!" burst from her father's lips, in surprise.

"I mean it, papa. He is not wanted here, and he knows why. I will
explain to you when we are alone."

The general looked perplexed, and frowned.

"You speak strangely, my child. Captain Nocolo is an old soldier,
and----"

"And no gentleman, papa."

"Ha! that is saying a good deal!" burst from the general's lips.

"You speak too harshly, girl!" burst out Captain Nocolo, savagely.
"But, however," he went on hurriedly, "I am here strictly on business.
I want to know what has become of Lieutenant Mazenas."

"Yes, that's it," said General Corona. "The captain says he is in this
house."

Estella turned pale, and could scarcely suppress her agitation.

"If Captain Nocolo desires to find the lieutenant, he had better hunt
for him. I have nothing more to say to him."

"Ah! as I thought!" ejaculated the Spanish officer, turning red.
"She knows something more than I know! The lieutenant gave his men a
peculiar order from the window of this parlor some little while ago,
and has not come from the house since. He may be held a prisoner here."

"Captain Nocolo, do you know what you are saying?" demanded Estella's
father, wrathfully. "A prisoner! Surely you are losing your head!"

"Perhaps not, General Corona. You do not know your daughter as well as
I do. On the very night that the train you were on was wrecked by the
rebels, I found your daughter in the company of that American spy,
Howard Sherwood."

"Impossible!" thundered General Corona. "She was with me, and----"

"You went off to the battle in the sugar-cane. I was coming up from
the bay, with Lieutenant Mazenas and several others, in pursuit of
Sherwood. I came upon them arm-in-arm."

At these words the face of the old general became as dark as night. He
turned and looked at Estella sternly.

"Estella, is this true? Answer at once!"

The face of the beautiful girl became first white, and then a livid
red. She tried to speak, but the words would not pass her lips. She
wrung her hands in silent despair.

"Enough; you need not say a word!" the words cut like the edge of
a sharp knife. "I know Captain Nocolo speaks the truth! And this,
Estella, after all I have told you! How dared you disobey me?"

"Father!"

"Explanations are needless!" he ejaculated, harshly. "My daughter the
friend and companion--nay, mayhap, the sweetheart--of an American
spy--a treacherous foe to Spain!"

The words stung Estella to the quick. She could bear to hear herself
reviled, but to listen to a denunciation of Howard was too much. She
raised her head proudly--raised it as her father was wont to raise his
own--and her eyes shone defiantly.

"Father, you are mistaken. Howard Sherwood is no spy. He is merely a
newspaper correspondent and the soul of honor. He is not working in
either the interests of Spain or the insurgents, but in the interests
of the great newspaper syndicate he represents. He----"

"Silence, Estella! To think that I must stand here, in my own house,
and listen to such words!" fumed the old general. "I know these
Americans only too well. They would make Cuba the forty-sixth State in
their Union, if they could. I hate them all!"

"Father, such words are not--not just. The Americans----"

"Don't speak of them, Estella!" The general was growing more angry
every instant. An idea seemed to flash over his mind. "Where is this
Sherwood now?" he asked, abruptly.

Estella did not answer the question. General Corona looked inquiringly
at the Spanish captain.

"Howard Sherwood was confined in the prison at Marambo," said Captain
Nocolo. "He escaped this morning, and"--he hesitated, with a cruel
smile of triumph on his yellow face--"I have every reason to believe he
came here to seek assistance from your daughter."

Had the old general received a blow in the face he could not have
looked more angry, more resentful. He hesitated for an instant, as if
to digest the words he had just heard, then strode toward his daughter
and caught her fiercely by the arm.

"Estella, you hear what Captain Nocolo says. What have you to answer to
this?" he demanded.

An intense silence filled the room for fully a minute. At first several
sentences arose to the beautiful girl's lips. But she checked them, and
would not speak.

"Estella, do you hear?" fairly thundered the general, and he shook her
arm fiercely. "Speak, child, speak!"

"Father, don't--don't!" was all that came from her bloodless lips.

"You must speak! Did Sherwood come here? What did you do for him? Where
is he now? I command you to answer my questions!"

She shook her head. She could not trust herself to utter another word.

"An obstinate girl, truly!" observed Captain Nocolo; but the look that
General Corona gave him instantly silenced him.

"Estella, this is a serious matter, and you must and shall speak!"
proceeded her father, with increased sternness. "Answer all of my
questions without delay, and tell me the truth. If you will not I--I
will disown you, and cast you out!"

"Father!"

It was a wail straight from her heart, but he had steeled himself
against it.

"Answer me!" He shook her again. "Answer! This is the last time I will
ask you to do so!"

"I cannot! I--I cannot!"

A strange fire leaped into his stern eyes--the fire of a spirit that
knew not what it was to be crossed. He caught her and almost flung her
toward the doorway.

"Then go!" he cried. "Go--leave this house, and never let me see you
again until you are ready to obey me!"

Scarcely had the words crossed his quivering lips than the side door to
the parlor was flung open, and Howard Sherwood leaped into the room.

"General Corona, have pity on your daughter, and do not treat her so
unkindly," said Howard. "I am here to answer all questions concerning
myself!"

CHAPTER XIX.

I NEVER FANCIED THAT A DAUGHTER OF MINE WOULD BE SO DISLOYAL.

It was a striking tableau in the parlor of the plantation mansion.
In the centre stood General Corona, with the crafty Captain Nocolo
beside him. Near the door the beautiful Estella swayed--pale, weak,
trembling--as if about to fall from the intensity of the emotion she
had just experienced. In the doorway was outlined the handsome form
of Howard Sherwood, his eyes meeting those of the general fairly and
squarely, while his arms were outstretched to support the girl he so
loved, should such support be desired.

"The escaped spy!" burst from Captain Nocolo's lips. "Ha! I was right
after all!"

Howard paid no attention to him. He was not thinking of himself--of
what capture might mean. His thoughts were only of Estella, and what
the beautiful girl had suffered, and was suffering, for his sake.

"So this is Howard Sherwood?" said General Corona at last, as he
surveyed that manly form from head to foot. He could not conceal from
himself the fact that never had he seen a young man who looked so
thoroughly honest, noble, and prepossessing.

"Yes, I am Howard Sherwood, the man who has caused all this trouble,"
responded Howard. "We have met before, I believe," he went on, and a
faint smile played for an instant on his face.

"So we have. But I forget where."

"In the streets of Santiago. Several thieves were about to relieve you
of your watch and purse----"

"Yes--yes! And you helped me!" cried General Corona. Then his face
clouded. He was far from pleased to have such an unpleasant truth
thrust upon him in view of the present situation. "I owe you my thanks
for that, to be sure."

"You gave them to me at the time," replied Howard, coldly, "so let that
pass. If you would do me a favor, treat your daughter more kindly. She
does not deserve the anger you have aimed at her."

Estella turned quickly and gave Howard such a grateful look that he
felt more than repaid for the words spoken. Then she looked toward her
father, but for once the eyes of the old warrior fell. It had remained
for his daughter's lover to teach him a first lesson in forbearance.

"Well, well; perhaps I was a little hasty," he said. "But I don't
understand all this. Captain Nocolo, since this is the man you are
after--" He paused. The captain had moved to the window, and now two
shots from his revolver rang out in rapid succession. "What is that
for?"

"The guard will be here directly," grinned the Spanish officer. "I do
not want this spy to escape us again."

"Oh, Howard!" cried Estella, "you are in imminent peril! Fly! fly!"

Howard stood irresolute for a moment. Then he folded his arms.

"No, Estella, I will remain. Remember--" and his eyes sought the
ceiling, to remind her that Lieutenant Mazenas was still a prisoner up
stairs.

At this she shivered. There was no time for further words, for up
dashed the four soldiers the lieutenant had had in waiting.

"There is the escaped spy!" said Captain Nocolo. "Disarm him, and
handcuff him well."

The four soldiers fell upon Howard, and had an easy task, for the young
war correspondent deemed it best to offer no resistance. They were in
the midst of their work when a crash sounded overhead, and down the
stairs rushed Lieutenant Mazenas, his attire in much disorder.

"Mazenas!" cried General Corona and Captain Nocolo simultaneously.

"Where is that American!" howled the lieutenant, wrathfully. "Ha! they
have you!" he hissed into Howard's face. "'Tis well. Men, look to it
that he does not escape again. He has much to answer for."

"Whence did you come?" demanded Captain Nocolo, while the old general
looked on with interest.

"Whence? From an upper closet in which that infernal spy locked me!"
fumed the lieutenant. "He is a--a devil in human form!" he went on.
"Oh, but you shall suffer dearly for your doings, never fear!" he
added, with increased passion, as he faced Howard.

"He locked you up in my house!" ejaculated Estella's father--"in my
house! Then he must have--" He paused and looked at his daughter.

"I see it all," burst out Captain Nocolo, maliciously. "Estella aided
him to escape, and brought him here. The lieutenant came to hunt him
up, and was made a prisoner. We came in just in time to entrap this
adroit American."

"That's it!" cried General Corona. He turned to Estella. "Child, go to
your room; I will speak to you later!"

"I will go," said Estella, in a low voice. "But," she gazed full at
Captain Nocolo, "ere I depart, let me say a word about that man. He is
unworthy of your friendship, papa, for he openly and grossly insulted
me the night we met near the scene of the railroad wreck."

"You lie!" burst from Captain Nocolo's lips, and scarcely had the words
been uttered when Howard's manacled hands struck him such a blow in the
mouth that the blood was drawn.

The soldiers promptly knocked down the young war correspondent, and he
was about to be subjected to gross maltreatment when the general, who
could not but admire Howard's action, interfered.

"Stop!" he commanded. "You had better take him outside and march him
back to prison; this is no place for such a scene. As for you, Captain
Nocolo, I will interview you in private, after I have had a chance to
talk with my daughter. Lieutenant Mazenas, have you anything further to
say?"

The face of the lieutenant was a study. He was full of rage, yet he had
a part to play, and must play it.

"I have nothing to say against the beautiful Estella," he replied,
with affected gallantry. "No doubt this little affair can be amicably
settled later on. Sherwood was directly under my care, and I must see
him safely back to prison. I may take the privilege of calling again
this evening, or to-morrow morning."

He looked at Captain Nocolo meaningly, and bowed himself out. The
captain hesitated, then followed him, and thus the entire party moved
away, leaving Estella and her father alone.

"We have had strange doings here, Estella, since I went away," said
the father, as he began to pace the floor uneasily, while she, sick
at heart over Howard's recapture, sank down on a hassock, and buried
her face in her hands. "Strange doings indeed! I never fancied that a
daughter of mine would be so disloyal!"

"I am not disloyal, papa," she returned, when she could trust herself
to speak. "I did what I thought was right."

"To assist Sherwood to escape was a crime, and----"

"In my opinion, it was not a crime," she interrupted. "He was to be
shot as a spy!"

"That is the fate of all spies in time of war."

"He is no spy, I repeat. More than that, it is only Lieutenant Mazenas'
bitter hatred of Howard that would send him to his death."

And acting on the impulse of the moment, Estella narrated her whole
story, from beginning to end, telling how she had first met Howard on
the steamer, and of all that had happened since. Still pacing the floor
uneasily, the old general drank in every word, but not once did his
stern eyes seek his daughter's fair face, now wet with tears.

"I can see very readily that your sojourn in the United States has
done you no good," he began, when she had finished. "Your head has been
filled with erroneous notions, both of a personal and of a political
nature. You imagine that the people of Cuba should do as they please,
and that every young lady should be allowed to do as she pleases. Now
this is all wrong, and the sooner you realize it the better it will
be for you. I do not approve of Captain Nocolo's actions toward you,
and he shall either beg your pardon or feel the point of my sword.
But he likes his wine, and mayhap he was slightly under the influence
of stimulants at the time; therefore, I believe that he will make due
amends." The general paused, and she gave a low sob. "But your actions
against Lieutenant Mazenas, your future husband, are far from being in
accord with my desires."

"My future husband!--I will never marry that man!"

It was a cry direct from Estella's heart.

"In this matter I shall insist upon full obedience, and there's an end
of it!" he exclaimed. "I am not so dull that I cannot see through your
doings. You would wed this adventurous American. But let me tell you,
once for all, that will never be. I will stretch him dead at my feet
before I will allow him to claim your hand in marriage, even should he
escape death at the hands of the authorities!"

She did not answer, save by a low moan, and again buried her face in
her hands. He saw how much she was affected, but his stern heart did
not relent. He paced the floor for a moment or two longer, and then
abruptly left the room.

CHAPTER XX.

THE THREE SCHEMERS.

The reader can easily imagine that Howard was not treated with any
gentleness by the four soldiers who conducted him back to the prison
at Marambo. A few words from Lieutenant Mazenas had sufficed to
acquaint them with the true situation, and they drove the young war
correspondent before them very much as a savage-minded man drives some
dumb beast that cannot defend itself. Howard's arms were handcuffed
behind him and shackles were placed upon his ankles, that he might walk
but not run.

The prison reached, Howard was brought face to face with the jailer he
had fought, and this individual subjected him to every indignity it was
in his power to inflict. The young war correspondent was cast into a
dungeon far beneath the street, and here he was chained to the wall and
left in the darkness to his bitter reflections.

Many another man would have bemoaned his own conduct that had brought
about the present result, but such was not the case with Howard
Sherwood. He had exposed himself to his enemies to save Estella from
being cast out, and this being so, he was somewhat reconciled to his
fate, whatever it might be.

In the meantime, Captain Nocolo and Lieutenant Mazenas, having assured
themselves that he was confined where it would be utterly impossible to
escape, left some strict orders with the head jailer, and then departed
from the prison. It was not until they were well out of the hearing of
those about the prison that they exchanged expressive glances, which
meant a great deal.

"We must take good care how we move in the future, Mazenas," said the
captain, as they rode out to a plantation on the other side of the city.

"You are right," growled the lieutenant. "Diablo! how I would like to
wring his neck for him!"

"It may come to that yet," was the captain's suggestive remark. "He may
be released after a proper hearing."

"Then he shall not have a proper hearing! Dios! it would mean ruin to
both of us!"

"From that I would infer that you imagine he knows us?"

"Of course he does! To my mind, this newspaper business is all an
ingenious pretext. He came to find us and uncover the peculiar
transactions concerning his uncle's estate."

"Perhaps you are right! Well, we have him in our power for the present."

A ride of twenty minutes brought them in sight of a long, low house,
painted white. They rode up to the horse block and dismounted.

"Is Señor Barker in?" asked Mazenas of the servant who appeared.

"Si, señor," returned the woman, with a bow, and they entered the
dwelling.

It was but a moment before they were confronted by Samuel Barker,
the rascally lawyer who had helped them to defraud Robert Sherwood
out of the greater part of his money. Barker was a tall, thin man,
with a long, hooked nose, and cruel gray eyes that winked and blinked
constantly. He smiled hypocritically as he extended to each a cold,
clammy hand.

"Delighted, gentlemen," he said, in a high, squeaky voice. "I did not
expect you back so soon. What news do you bring?"

"We have him caged again," growled Mazenas. "But we had considerable
trouble in doing it," he added, in Spanish.

"I am glad to hear that he is once more back in prison. He must not
again escape. In fact, it would be far better were he entirely out of
the way."

The peculiar tone in which Samuel Barker uttered the words made both of
the Spanish officers start. Mazenas was particularly disturbed.

"You speak as if there were great need of precaution," he cried.

"And there is, gentlemen, there is."

"Why?"

"Less than two hours ago I received a letter from Santiago, from my
partner, and in that letter he states that Thomas Herringford, who was
Robert Sherwood's lawyer, has met this Howard Sherwood, and is now
doing all in his power to get at the bottom of this business. No doubt
Howard Sherwood is about to push his claim to the uttermost, and----"

He paused.

"And the quicker we get him out of our way the better," finished
Captain Nocolo, bluntly.

He had little of the outer polish of his two companions.

"It would--ah--assist us very materially if young Sherwood did not
appear as a claimant," returned Samuel Barker, dryly.

"In your case it would be killing two birds with one stone," said the
captain, turning to Lieutenant Mazenas. "For if Sherwood gets out
again, it is likely that he'll persuade the fair Estella to elope with
him."

At this the lieutenant swore roundly.

"We must effectually dispose of him, that is apparent. The question is,
how is it to be accomplished?"

There was a brief silence as the trio looked at each other. The
thoughts of all were busy; but it remained to the rascally lawyer to
make an acceptable suggestion.

"Prisoners confined in dungeons frequently grow despondent and take
their own lives," he remarked. "Now, if some fine morning it was
discovered that this Sherwood had taken poison----"

"Just the thing--and so easy!" cried Captain Nocolo. "Barker, you are
a man of infinite resource. He shall be so discovered--eh, Mazenas?"

"I agree," replied the lieutenant. "But how shall the poison be
administered?"

"Poison is often taken with food. I have with me some that might be
placed in soup, or coffee, or even water," said Samuel Barker.

"Let us have it," whispered Lieutenant Mazenas, hoarsely. "What is
it--a powder?"

"Exactly. Pour it in any liquid, and it will seem to disappear. But it
will be there--never fear, it will be there," and the rascally lawyer
smiled grimly.

"We cannot administer this ourselves," grumbled Captain Nocolo. "We
must find somebody to do it for us."

"I know of a person--Luigi, the jailer. I once caught him taking
bribes, and he is in my power. He would sell his soul for a hundred
piasters."

"Yes, and Luigi has a grudge against this American for the way he was
treated when Sherwood escaped," cried the captain. "It ought to be
easy. Get us the accursed powder, Barker."

The lawyer quitted the apartment, and soon returned with a vial filled
with a whitish powder. Lieutenant Mazenas took it and placed it in his
vest pocket.

The two officers remained at the lawyer's temporary residence a quarter
of an hour longer, and then, when night was falling, returned to the
city, to take charge of their various commands, for the insurgents were
advancing closer every hour, and it was known that, sooner or later, a
battle in the very streets of Marambo must be expected.

There was plenty of work for them to do, and for the time being both
had to delay their vile plot against Howard's life. The lieutenant was
called away to the vicinity of the railroad, and spent two hours about
the depot and the freight houses. The roads were dark and muddy, and
in order to save his fine military uniform he donned an old suit, and
did work that, when he had joined the army, he had never thought to
undertake.

"But never mind," he thought. "Once this Sherwood is out of the way,
and the fair Estella is my wife, I'll let the army take care of itself,
and seek protracted pleasure in Spain and lively Paris. I certainly
need a little recreation, and it will give Estella a chance to become
reconciled to her marriage with me."

It was well past midnight when the lieutenant returned to the vicinity
of the prison. He knew Luigi would be off duty at one o'clock. He
waited until the jailer appeared, and then had the man walk away to an
adjacent wine shop with him.

"I have a task for you to perform, Luigi," he said, and immediately
began to sound the jailer.

He found Luigi willing enough to undertake the dastardly work he had
planned. Everything was arranged, and the vial with the whitish powder
was handed over.

"By noon to-morrow Howard Sherwood will be a dead man!" whispered the
jailer as they separated. "There will be no failure, I give you my
word."

Lieutenant Mazenas returned to his quarters with an anxious heart. He
told Captain Nocolo of what had been done and both waited impatiently
for the morrow to come.

In the meanwhile, after an hour of liberty, Luigi returned to the
prison and went directly to the place where the water jugs were kept.
Procuring a fresh jug of water, he emptied the contents of the vial
into the water, and stirred it up well. Then he lighted a lantern and
went below.

Howard had fallen into a doze on a rude bench placed directly beneath
the iron ring to which he was fastened. He sat up and rubbed his eyes
when Luigi appeared.

"Here is some water for you," said the jailer, roughly. "I forgot to
bring you any before."

"Thanks for your thoughtfulness," returned Howard, as cheerfully as he
could. "I must confess that, damp as it is down here, I am decidedly
thirsty."

"Well, drink your fill; water is free enough," laughed Luigi, brutally,
as he walked back to the door and let himself out.

He glanced back sharply, however, to see what Howard would do.

Never dreaming of what the water might contain, Howard took up the jug,
rinsed his mouth with a little of it, and then took a long and deep
draught.

"That's rather bitter," he remarked, as he set the jug down and
puckered his lips.

"You'll find it more bitter in less than an hour," thought the jailer.
"That was the easiest case of poisoning I ever attempted."

CHAPTER XXI.

ESTELLA IS INTRUSTED WITH AN IMPORTANT MISSION.

Estella saw her father leave the house by the side exit and stride down
to the stables. In a few minutes he appeared on one of his favorite
steeds, and rode off at full speed in the direction of Jiguani. He went
alone, and what his mission was to that distant city she could not
surmise.

Soon after the general had departed, Cara came to her young mistress to
comfort her as best she could. But Estella was now more low-spirited
than ever. She went to her room, and, throwing herself upon the bed,
wept as if her heart would break.

"It is all over!" she moaned. "They will order him shot at sunrise!"

"Perhaps not," said Cara, soothingly. "Tomasso says that he cannot be
executed until he has had a trial."

"Where is Tomasso now?"

"I sent him off to watch Lieutenant Mazenas and Captain Nocolo,"
replied the maid. "I thought you would wish it."

"It was thoughtful, although I cannot see how it will do any good,"
said Estella, drearily.

"It is my opinion that they will take Señor Sherwood's life, if not by
fair means, then by foul."

"They are capable of it, I verily believe," sighed Estella. "Oh, that I
might do something to save him!"

"Why not go to the prison governor; he will surely listen to your plea
and delay Señor Howard's trial," urged Cara.

This was a new idea, and it appealed to Estella. She knew the family
of the governor well, and they had always been the best of friends.

"I will go!" she declared, and as evening was falling, she and Cara
set out on horseback, accompanied by two of the plantation servants,
heavily armed, so that Estella might not again fall into hostile hands.

The road to the governor's home, a fine residence in the heart of
Marambo, was heavy, and consequently their progress was slow. Arriving
at the house, they learned that the official had just retired to catch
a few hours sleep before overseeing the labor of securing the prison
against the expected attack of the insurgents, who, however, had
withdrawn in the direction of Jiguani.

Aroused from a nap, the governor was not in the best of humor, yet he
listened patiently to what Estella had to say.

"It is strange that you should come in behalf of this American spy," he
said, when Estella had concluded. "But, if I remember rightly, you have
been living in America for two years, and that may account for your
extraordinary interest in the young American. But I cannot see what I
can do. Sherwood is to have a hearing in the morning."

"You will see that no harm befalls him in the meantime?"

"No harm can come to him unless he inflicts it on himself. He is in
solitary confinement."

"At what time will the hearing take place?"

"At eight o'clock to-morrow morning."

"And where, pray?"

"Most likely at the Council Hall on the plaza. There is no place at the
prison."

"Can I be present?"

The governor hesitated.

"Yes; but you must not interfere with the proceedings."

This ended the interview, and the governor again sought his bed
immediately. Not quite reassured that all would go well, Estella turned
away from the house, and with Cara and her servants started to return
to her father's plantation.

The night was dark and the oppressive, sultry air proclaimed that a
violent tropical storm was approaching. Occasionally fitful luminous
flashes to the westward showed where the lightning was already playing.

The distance to the plantation was about half covered when one of the
men, who rode in front, suddenly called a halt.

"There is a body of horsemen ahead--to the left," he whispered, in his
Spanish patois. "I cannot tell whether they are friends or foes."

"How many?" asked Estella.

"At least half a hundred, and all heavily armed."

Estella's heart began to beat quickly. It was not likely that the
troops stationed around Marambo were out so far. It must be a body of
rebels!

"Are any of them on the road?" she whispered.

"No. I fancy they heard us coming and took to the brush and woods."

"Perhaps they will allow us to pass without molestation," suggested
Cara. "That is, if we go on as if we had not seen them."

The servant shrugged his shoulders and looked at Estella.

"Well, we cannot remain here in the dark," said the young mistress.
"Lead on, Coji, but hold your gun in readiness."

The two servants went on, and Estella and Cara kept close behind them.
A hundred yards were passed, and they began to think themselves safe,
when a tall, dark figure rose out directly in front of them.

"Who comes?" shouted a commanding voice, and in the dim light they saw
the glint of a rifle barrel.

"Spain!" shouted one of the servants, ere Estella could warn him.

"Caramba!" muttered several voices, and in a trice the little party
was surrounded.

They were told to hold up their hands or they would be shot.

"What is the meaning of this outrage?" asked Estella, as she came
forward.

Before any reply could be made a lighted lantern was held up that
the party might be inspected. Then the leader of the rebels, for the
horsemen were nothing less, approached Estella.

"We are sorry, madame," he said, in excellent Spanish, "but I am afraid
we will have to detain you for at least twenty-four hours."

"And why?" she asked, much startled.

"It were better not to ask questions. If you will go with us quietly I
will promise you that no harm will befall you."

"You are insurgents, then?"

"Yes."

"You are about to attack Marambo?"

"I told you not to ask questions," was the quick response and now the
tone was sharper. "Marco, take three men and lead the horses of these
people to the hollow I mentioned," went on the commanding officer,
turning to the tall fellow who had called out the challenge.

"This is a strange proceeding, but I presume we must submit," said
Estella.

Had she not dreaded the time lost, it would not have alarmed her to be
held a prisoner by the rebels.

As they moved away from the road the commanding officer rode up beside
her and entered into conversation. She learned that he was Captain Hugo
Martinez, of the Second Cuban Cavalry. He was a thorough gentleman,
and treated Estella with every courtesy possible under existing
circumstances. He asked her about herself, and was much surprised when
she expressed a strong sympathy for the insurgents.

"It is a pity your father is not equally patriotic," he said. "It might
save him much trouble."

"I suppose you will attack our plantation very soon," said Estella,
with a shudder.

"No; we have more important work on hand," and then Captain Martinez
bit his black mustache as if realizing suddenly that he had said too
much.

"You refer to a premeditated attack on Marambo," went on Estella.
"Well, if that city is to be taken I trust it will be taken quickly."

"You do?" he asked, in astonishment

"Yes."

"And why, señora?"

Estella blushed before replying. Then she glanced up boldly at him.

"I have a very dear friend who is in the prison there. He is to be
tried to-morrow morning as a spy, and he will most likely be shot. If
the city falls into your hands he may escape."

"And who is your friend?"

"Mr. Howard Sherwood, an American newspaper correspondent."

"Ah! I have heard of him. And you wish him rescued? It shall be done!"

"Oh!" Estella gave an exclamation of joy. "Then I am right--you intend
to attack the city this night."

"Hush! not one word, for there are Spanish spies about," warned Captain
Martinez. "You--ah--I half fancy I can trust you, señora--on your
friend's account."

"You can trust me," whispered Estella. "Try me and see. I will do
anything to aid in the liberation of Howard Sherwood. I will confess to
you--he is my lover!"

"He should be a happy man to have so beautiful a sweetheart," said the
captain, gallantly. Then his eyes lighted up suddenly. "You say you
will do anything to help us? That means a great deal, in such times as
these."

"Put me to the test, and see if I fail you," returned Estella, her
spirits rising. "I am for Cuba, no matter what my father may say or do."

"Bravo!" he cried. "Come with me. Socran, release the lady's horse.
She will accompany me," he added to the man in front.

The cavalryman released his hold, and Estella and the rebel captain
rode off side by side, to a hut that had been hastily constructed in
the heart of the dense wood.

Here they were met by several other officers, and Estella was
introduced to them and vouched for by Captain Martinez.

Once inside of the hut a long conference was held between the beautiful
girl and three of the rebel leaders. Then to Estella was given a packet
of documents, which she hid in her bosom.

"Remember the password to-night is 'Machete,'" said Captain Martinez.
"The moment you get inside the city barracks, deliver the packet to
Captain Umberto. That will be all."

"But you must be guarded in your movements," put in another of the
rebel leaders. "The discovery of that packet by the Spanish authorities
would mean the overthrow of all our plans, and most likely your death."

"I will be careful," responded Estella. "Not only for your sake, but
for my own--and for dear Howard's," she added, under her breath.

In another moment she was riding off alone, in the lonely darkness, and
in the face of the oncoming storm.

It was a desperate mission to undertake, but she thought not of her
peril, only of her lover and his fate, should she fail to save him.

CHAPTER XXII.

"THE PLOT WILL MISCARRY! THE CUBAN SOLDIERS
WILL BE BUTCHERED LIKE CATTLE!"

It would be hard to analyze Estella's feelings as she left the
rebel camp in the midnight darkness and in the face of the coming
thunderstorm, to ride to Marambo and deliver to Captain Umberto, the
keeper of the city barracks, the packet intrusted to her by Captain
Martinez.

She fully realized her great danger, but what was that to her in the
face of the fact that Howard languished in prison, and would most
likely be sentenced to an immediate death in the morning? All her
thoughts were concentrated upon her lover, and she urged her faithful
steed onward at an increased speed as she realized the value of every
moment.

Already the lightning flashed across the western sky at frequent
intervals, and this was followed by the long, low muttering of thunder.
Hardly was she out of hearing of the rebel camp than it began to rain,
first in a few scattered drops, and then in a steady downpour, which
wet her to the skin, for the officers, kind as they were, had been
unable to supply her with a cape or cloak.

Thanks to many years spent in the district, Estella knew almost every
foot of the way, and did not hesitate when it came to a choice of
roads. She wished she had Cara or one of the men servants with her, but
realized that, under existing circumstances, this was impossible--a
companion of any sort might have spoiled all.

"Halt!" cried a stern voice, and Estella found herself confronted by
a young negro who presented to her breast the barrel of an old United
States Army musket.

"Who goes there?" went on the sentry.

"Cuba."

"The password, señorita."

"Machete!"

The negro looked surprised.

"From what company?" he asked, slowly.

"Captain Martinez."

Instantly the manner of the sentry changed. He dropped the musket to
his side.

"Pass on!" he cried, and he disappeared from view as suddenly as he had
come.

Estella lost no time in continuing upon her way.

"The captain was right," she murmured. "The insurgents have the city
completely hemmed in. No outside help can come to the Spanish troops
garrisoned there. Pray Heaven they subdue the place quickly, and Howard
regains his liberty!"

A quarter of an hour more of riding and Estella reached the outskirts
of Marambo just as the storm burst in all its fury. She was on a
highway lined with railroad tracks, and had not advanced far when she
was stopped by a guard belonging to Lieutenant Mazenas' command. She
had not the Spanish password, and in consequence was detained until her
identity was established. She was about to leave the vicinity when the
lieutenant, having heard her name mentioned, came to her in wonder.

"And what brings you out in this terrible storm, fair Estella?" he
asked.

"Has my father come to Marambo?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"I have not seen him. I thought he was at home with you?"

"He left shortly after you did," replied the beautiful girl, and was
about to ride on when he caught her by the arm.

"It is not safe for you to be riding alone at this time of night," he
said. "It is better for you to have an attendant."

"Thanks, but I prefer to be alone," she responded, coldly.

By an attendant she knew he meant himself.

"You are very daring," he went on. "Is there anything of importance on
foot?"

"These are troublous times," was her evasive answer. "One cannot tell
what is going to happen from one day to the next."

"That is true," he said, and a grim smile played over his features as
he thought of the wicked plot set afloat against Howard Sherwood.

He wondered if she had entered the city on the young war
correspondent's account.

"At least let me provide you with a cloak," he went on, and before she
could refuse, he had thrown his heavy army cloak over her shoulders.

He would have gone with her, but at that moment an orderly came up and
summoned him away.

Estella was sorry she had encountered him, and was half inclined to
throw the cloak away, so much did she despise its owner. But as it was
raining harder than ever, she kept it on.

In a few minutes the fair Cuban rebel found herself in the heart of
the city. She knew where the barracks were located, and at once sought
them, and had a soldier arouse Captain Umberto.

"A lady to see me! Admit her," were the old war veteran's quick words.

When they were alone, he took the packet eagerly and read the
communication.

"Too late! Dios! why did not Martinez let me know of this before! The
plot will miscarry! The Cuban soldiers will be butchered like cattle!"

"Too late," gasped Estella. "Surely, señor, that cannot be. Captain
Martinez was so certain----"

"So was I, yesterday. But a detachment of Spanish soldiers is marching
from Puerto Padre to Marambo, and they may arrive at any hour--if the
storm does not render the vile road impassable," added Captain
Umberto, suddenly. "It is raining rather hard, is it not?"

"It is raining furiously."

"Good! They may not be able to arrive in time. Pray Heaven we may
have a deluge," he went on, and Estella muttered a half-audible amen.
"Captain Martinez writes that you wish to save a certain young man
at present confined in the city prison," continued Captain Umberto.
"It shall be done, if the thing is possible. Your service justifies a
reward. But I have now no time to spare. There is much to be done, and
I must work with extreme caution, for the Spanish spies are everywhere.
My own valet has taken their gold, although he thinks I know it not."

And the captain hurried away to fulfill the orders which had been sent
to him.

Estella, impatient to know what would be the outcome of the night's
work, was undecided as to what course to pursue. She could have gone to
the house of some friend, but she felt she could not even rest, much
less sleep. She felt that that night was destined to mark a turning
point in her life.

Chance made her ride off in the direction of the prison, a grim, stony
pile, looking more forbidding than ever in the darkness and the storm.
As she rode slowly past, she wondered in what part Howard was confined.
Was he inside that wall, or was he under her very feet?

Presently a figure darted out from the shelter of a pitch-black angle
and ran toward her.

"I thought it was you, fair mistress," cried the voice of Tomasso, the
overseer. "Have you, too, learned of this wicked plot against Señor
Sherwood?"

"Tomasso," she returned. "And what brought you to the prison? Did you
think to serve me by communicating with Señor Sherwood?"

"I wanted to be near--they might try again to take his life. Oh, sweet
mistress, you know not what vile men they are."

"But I do," said Estella, bitterly. "They would take his life."

"Yes, and by poison."

"Poison"--she started back. "Tomasso, you are certain?"

"Ay, sweet mistress. Do you not know of that? I fancied it was that
which brought you to the place. You know I followed Captain Nocolo and
Lieutenant Mazenas after they left the plantation. They went to the
house of an American lawyer named Barker, and there the three planned
to poison Señor Sherwood."

"Merciful heaven!" burst from Estella's almost bloodless lips. "And
what further?--tell me quickly, Tomasso. They did not carry their
dastardly plan into execution?"

"The lieutenant meant to do so at once, but I thwarted his evil
designs. The poison was a whitish powder in a vial, and the lieutenant
had it in his pocket when he left Lawyer Barker's home. I followed him
to his headquarters near the depot, and when he changed his coat, to
direct some dirty work on the embankments, I slipped in, poured the
poison out of the vial, and substituted some baking powder which stood
handy."

"Thanks, a thousand times for that, Tomasso," murmured Estella. She was
so wrought up she could scarcely speak. "And what was done with the
powder?"

"Lieutenant Mazenas was to hire one of the jailers to give it to Señor
Sherwood. Soon after I changed the contents of the vial he put on his
good coat again, and rode down to this prison and went inside. I have
no doubt that the scheme has all been arranged, and already the dose
has been given to Señor Sherwood, or he will receive it ere morning."

The tears started to Estella's eyes. What a narrow escape Howard had
sustained without even knowing it. She grasped Tomasso's hand fervidly.

"I shall never forget you for this, Tomasso," she said. "Your work this
night has gained my eternal friendship. Oh, that we were inside the
prison, to watch over Howard until deliverance comes."

"You'll be inside of the prison quick enough," sang out a rough voice
behind them, and in an instant four guardsmen sprang out of the
darkness and pounced upon Tomasso and Estella.

They struggled to escape, but it was useless, and five minutes later
they were both prisoners within the Marambo stronghold.

Estella kept up her courage as long as possible, and then utter despair
overmastered her, and she sobbed like a child. Instead of assisting her
lover, she had only compromised herself.

CHAPTER XXIII.

CONDEMNED TO DIE!--TOMASSO'S WORDS--A GALLANT RESOLVE.

The drink of water which the Jailer Luigi had intended should bring
death to Howard Sherwood, was unsuspectingly swallowed by the young
war correspondent. It was bitter, but that was all, and as much of the
Cuban water has a salty flavor, he considered this nothing unusual.

After giving him the water, the jailer hurried away, confident that
Howard would soon be a dead man. Left to himself, the young man threw
himself on his bench, and gave himself up to his reflections.

"I'll be tried in the morning, that's certain," he thought. "Now, the
question is, what defense can I make?"

This was not an easy point to decide. He wished to shield Estella as
much as possible, even at a risk to himself.

"My noble girl must not suffer," he decided. "She has already suffered
too much in my behalf!"

The hours went slowly by until morning dawned without; a dull morning
indeed, with the warm rain coming down unceasingly. Estella's prayer
in this particular had been answered. There had been no cessation in
the downpour, and everywhere, within and without the city, the poorly
constructed roads were heavy with mud. Despite the onerous taxes
imposed, Spain had never given Cuba good highways, and now, in moving
her army from place to place, she was made to suffer roundly for her
neglect. On more than one occasion, during the rainy season, not a
cannon, not even a mule team, could be moved from one town to the next.

Little did the young war correspondent dream that, less than a hundred
feet away, Estella sat in a dismal cell, her face buried in her hands,
and her dark hair falling in a disheveled mass over her shoulders, the
picture of despair.

From words dropped by her jailer, she had surmised that Captain
Martinez's proposed attack upon Marambo was known, and steps were being
taken to meet it.

"The insurgents within the city will have no time in which to arm
themselves. More than likely, every suspected person here will be
immediately placed under arrest."

A trumpet call sounded through the damp air, coming from without the
prison. A minute later, and Luigi appeared at the door of Howard's
cell, accompanied by two guardsmen detailed to escort the young war
correspondent before the special court-martial.

"Caramba!" muttered the jailer, and fell back with a white face.

He had fully expected to find Howard a corpse upon the stone floor. To
see the young man with a half-smile upon his handsome face nearly took
away his breath.

But he dared not ask questions, and immediately proceeded to release
Howard from his chains. This done, the two soldiers told him to march,
and, one on either side of him, escorted him out of the prison and to
the Council Hall, where the hearing was to be held.

It was evident to Howard's trained eye that the officers in charge were
much worried, for no time was lost in opening court. Then a call was
made for Lieutenant Mazenas, but he was not present.

"He cannot leave the railroad property," was the explanation given to
account for his absence, and then Captain Nocolo was called.

The captain briefly related his story, telling how Howard had escaped
from Santiago by boat, of the capture and then of his second escape.
Much more was said, the captain doing his best to convict Howard. He
imagined that Luigi had lacked the courage to administer the poison.

"And what have you to say in your defense, Señor Sherwood?" demanded
the presiding officer, his lowered brows bent full upon Howard's manly
face.

Howard told his story as plainly as possible, leaving out only those
portions which related more particularly to Estella. He accused Captain
Nocolo of a personal interest in having him shot or imprisoned, but to
this assertion the court would not listen.

"Captain Nocolo is an honorable Spanish officer; we know him well,"
said one of the court judges. "You had better confine your remarks to
yourself. You are accused of being a spy, and as yet have brought forth
no evidence to clear yourself."

"I can say no more, gentlemen," returned Howard, angrily, for he
considered this treatment almost brutal. "I have told the truth. I am
an innocent man, and if I am punished, the consequences will be upon
your heads."

"Take him away!" roared the presiding officer, an intimate friend of
the Nocolo family.

And Howard was immediately handcuffed again, and led back to the
prison. The court went into secret session for only five minutes,
and then it was announced that he had been found guilty of being a
spy in the interests of the rebels, and he was sentenced to be shot
immediately. The reader may imagine this statement to be over-drawn,
but let us add that since the beginning of the present insurrection
such hasty trials have been frequent and many patriots have been tried
and shot within the hour of their capture.

Hardly had Howard reached the interior of the prison grounds than a
special messenger rode up announcing the decision of the court-martial.
A guard was at once detailed to carry out the order. The young war
correspondent heard the news with a sinking heart.

"They would murder me," he thought. "This is the work of Lieutenant
Mazenas and Captain Nocolo quite as much as of the Spanish authorities."

There was so much excitement at the entrance to the prison that, once
within the yard, the guards paid scant attention to Howard, saving to
see that he did not attempt to escape.

Within the prison yard a hundred or more prisoners were tramping
about in the rain, taking their daily exercise. Howard watched them
curiously, yet not without a certain feeling of envy. To be merely a
prisoner was one thing--to be condemned to be shot quite another. How
he wished for a single chance to obtain his freedom! But no such chance
offered itself.

Among the prisoners there was a man who attracted Howard's attention
by his queer movements each time that he came close to the young war
correspondent. Howard mused on the matter for several minutes, and came
to the conclusion that the fellow wished to speak to him.

Then he recognized Tomasso, although the overseer's face was partially
concealed in bandages placed on the sword cuts he had received in his
efforts to save himself and his young mistress from arrest.

Cautiously Howard moved on a few steps to a spot where Tomasso would
come within a few feet of him. The long line of prisoners marched
around, and the overseer drew close. As he approached he bent forward
with a keen glance, to be certain that he was not observed.

"Estella is here," he whispered in English, that the other prisoners
next to him might not understand. "Cell 47."

He moved on, and Howard fell back nearly dumfounded. What was this
Tomasso had said? Estella a prisoner in cell 47! He could scarcely
believe the evidence of his own ears. He waited until the overseer came
round again.

"What for?" he questioned.

"Helping the rebels, and trying to help you," replied Tomasso. "Beware
of poison. I saved you once; I may not be able to do so again, señor!"

Tomasso moved on quickly after this. But a guard had seen him talking
this time, and with an oath he belabored the faithful fellow over the
shoulders with a cowhide.

"Didn't I tell you to keep silent? Another word and I'll string you up
by the thumbs, you dirty rebel!"

Howard scarcely heard the remarks. Estella had been arrested for aiding
the insurgents, and for trying to aid him, a condemned spy? What would
they do with his sweetheart--condemn her to death, also?

"Would that I could speak to her, if only once again!" he thought, and
instantly decided to make a final and desperate effort to do so.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE LAST MOMENT--"TAKE AIM! FIRE!"

To make a resolve was an easy matter; to carry it out was extremely
difficult.

Although the guards were fully occupied at the gates of the prison,
they did not forget Howard, and as soon as they saw him walking toward
the exercising prisoners they ordered him back to his place.

"You are not to speak to any one!" cried the captain of the guard.
"Attempt to do so, and you may find yourself dead before the other man
can answer!"

And then the Spaniard, thinking he had said a very smart thing, laughed
coarsely, and his companions joined in his hilarity.

This, however, did not deter the young war correspondent. He was
condemned to die, so if he failed in his effort, he could lose nothing.
He stood in the place designated; then, at the first opportunity he
slipped away, and into the open prison doorway.

When he had been confined at the end of one of the upper corridors,
he had noticed how the numbering of the cells ran, and now he had no
trouble in locating cell 47, in a wing of the building farthest from
the street gate, and in a section devoted entirely to females.

He ran up to the cell door and peered inside. All was gloomy enough,
but he recognized the beautiful form on the bench, as Estella sat
there, her face buried in her hands.

"Estella!" he called, softly.

She started and raised her head. Then she gave a glad cry and rushed to
the grating.

"Howard, is it really you?" she faltered.

"Yes, my darling!" He kissed her through the cold iron bars. "Oh, my
love, why did you dare so much?"

"I did it for your sake, Howard!" she murmured, and blushed crimson as
she spoke. "I could not bear to think of your being here."

"But now you are a prisoner, too!" he said, sadly. "Oh, what a terrible
misfortune!"

"How did you know I was here? Have you seen Tomasso?"

"Yes, and he gave me the number of the cell. Oh, Estella, I would make
any sacrifice to set you free!" he went on, passionately.

"And I would do the same for you, Howard. But I am afraid we cannot
help each other. You--how is it you are here?"

"I slipped from the guard while I was in the yard."

"And what are they going to do with you? Are they going to give you a
trial?" she questioned, hastily.

He could scarcely answer her. He lowered his eyes, but she compelled
him to speak.

"I have had a trial--at least, what they call a trial," he said, in
such a low voice she could scarcely hear him.

"And the verdict, Howard--what was it? Tell me--you don't answer. Did
they--they find you guilty?"

"Yes."

She gave a pitiful sob, and clutched the iron bars tightly, to keep
herself from falling to the floor.

"And what is to be the next step, Howard?--tell me the whole truth."

"I am to be shot within the hour!"

"Oh!"

That one little stifled exclamation, yet how much it meant! She tried
to say more, but from her parched lips, pale with terror, there came
only a heart-wrung moan.

"It was Captain Nocolo's work. He swore my life away!"

"And Lieutenant Mazenas tried to poison you!" she said, at last. "You
are surrounded by enemies and cannot expect fair treatment. Oh, how my
heart longs to aid you, Howard!" she went on, with another sob.

"You noble and sweet girl!" he burst out. "There is not such another
loyal heart in the whole world!"

"You may hit upon some way to escape. Take the first chance, no matter
how desperate. Try, try, Howard, for my sake!"

"And what of you, Estella?"

"Never mind me. Save yourself! I will----"

"Hold! What means this?" shouted a voice at the turn in the corridor,
and a yellow-skinned creole jailer stalked up.

Not stopping to think twice, Howard pounced upon the fellow, and hurled
him to the floor.

"A single word and your life will pay the forfeit!" said the young war
correspondent.

And then, as the guard quickly arose to his feet and began a desperate
struggle to overpower his antagonist, Howard hit him a heavy blow
behind the ear. With a groan, the creole fell back unconscious.

It was but the work of a moment for Howard to find the jailer's keys.
With them he unlocked the door of Estella's cell and also liberated his
own wrists.

"Come, Estella," he said, in a low voice. "See! I have his pistol and
his sword. Let us make a dash for liberty together!"

"I will go with you wherever you say!" murmured the beautiful girl.
"Henceforth I am what my friends call me--Estella, the little Cuban
rebel!"

"And, I too, shall fight in the cause of Cuban liberty!" returned
Howard. "That is, if we are fortunate enough to escape."

Side by side they ran down the corridor and toward a door leading to a
portion of the prison yard reserved for the few female prisoners, as
well as for the family of the resident jailer. The door was bolted, but
not locked, and they were quickly outside and in the pouring rain.

"Had we any sort of a ladder we might scale yonder wall!" said Howard.
"But without a ladder we can do nothing."

Scarcely had he spoken when a rifle shot rang out, and a bullet plowed
its way through his sleeve and scratched his arm. Estella gave a cry of
terror.

"We are discovered!"

The shot from the rifle was followed by a shout from the guard, and
in a few seconds half a dozen heavy feet were heard running in their
direction.

"You had better go back, Estella!" whispered her lover. "Lock yourself
in the cell, and you may escape punishment. I will stand here and fight
it out."

Estella shook her head.

"I will remain by your side," she whispered.

There was no time to say more. The guards came running up and Howard
was surrounded. He fired one shot, and then the pistol was taken from
him, and he was thrown down and overpowered.

"Howard! Howard!" he heard Estella cry, and looking up, he saw her
being carried off by a burly Spanish officer and Captain Nocolo!

The young war correspondent's hands were bound behind him, and with
savage blows he was driven out again into the prison yard, from where
the exercising prisoners had now retired.

"Come! say your prayers!" cried his guard, brutally. "There is no time
to waste on you. We must get you off our hands and then go out and
fight the accursed insurgents, who are prowling about in the rain and
fog."

"Are they so near?" exclaimed Howard. "Oh, that they might save me!" he
thought.

He was given no time to speculate, however. All about the prison was
in a state of excitement, and this being so, the guards thought only
of settling his case. Had they had their own way, they would have shot
him down where he stood, and left him where he fell. But certain
formalities had to be gone through with, and these occupied several
minutes.

During the interval of time the booming of a cannon on the outskirts
of the city caused a general alarm to be sounded. The rebels, under
Captain Martinez, had commenced hostilities!

The boom of the cannon was followed by a roar of artillery from the
Spanish guns in Marambo. Then the cannonading became general.

In nervous haste, the guards led Howard out into the centre of the
prison yard. He was blindfolded and placed in position. A squad of
eight soldiers, with rifles, stood in line but fifty feet away.

"Prisoner, if you would pray, do so at once," said the officer in
charge. "You have but a single minute to live."

Howard could not reply; he was past that now. It looked indeed as if he
must die. Silently he commended his soul to his Maker, and awaited the
awful moment of doom.

The officer held a watch in his hand. The seconds ticked away
rapidly--ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty! The minute was up!
The watch was put away.

"Are you ready, men?"

There was no answer. Each of the eight soldiers stood with his rifle at
a carry arms.

"Take aim!"

The rifles came up, each to its shoulder, and eight shining muzzles
were pointed at Howard's heart.

"Fire!"

CHAPTER XXV.

"SAVE ME, HOWARD! PROTECT ME FROM THIS HUMAN BRUTE!"

Boom!

It was not the reports of the rifles which rang out when the officer in
command ordered the death guard to fire upon Howard Sherwood. Just as
the word was framed by his lips a large bomb whistled through the air
overhead, landed at the very feet of the eight soldiers and exploded!

The havoc was terrific. Two of the men were instantly killed, and the
others, as well as the commanding officer, were seriously wounded.

As for Howard, he dropped to the ground when he heard the bomb coming,
and this saved him, although he was covered with the human wreckage.
The bandage fell from his face, and by a mighty effort he freed his
hands.

"The rebels! The rebels!" was the cry which resounded on all sides.
"They have routed the outposts and are entering the city!"

The cries came from the street and they were quickly taken up by those
about the prison. A moment later, several insurgents appeared on the
high wall. They dropped into the yard and opened the gates; then a
stream of men, old and young, and armed in every conceivable manner,
rushed in.

"Cuba libre! Cuba libre!" was the well-known battle-cry, and a moment
later it was taken up by many of the prisoners in the cells.

Realizing the fortunate turn of affairs which had spared to him his
very life, the young war correspondent, as quickly as he could get
his breath, looked around for means to arm himself. From the wounded
officer he took a sword and a pistol, and in another moment was in the
thickest of the fray, for insurgents and Spaniards were battling on
every hand.

The first work of the attacking forces was to liberate the prisoners
and tell them to arm themselves at the expense of the enemy. This done,
they were left to do as they pleased with their former jailers, while
the main body of the rebels rushed on to the city hall and other public
buildings.

No sooner had he armed himself than Howard found himself confronted
by Luigi, the jailer, who with drawn pistol ordered the young war
correspondent to surrender. For reply Howard knocked the jailer's
pistol from his hand, and then, with a blow on the face, dashed the
fellow flat on his back. As Luigi was attempting to rise, a negro rebel
ran up and pierced him to the heart with a bayonet, and the rascal
expired on the spot.

As soon as the attack began, Howard's thoughts went back to Estella. He
had seen her carried off by Captain Nocolo and a burly soldier, and he
wondered where she had been taken. He ran into the prison and along one
corridor after another, shouting her name.

"Help, Señor Sherwood!"

At this appeal Howard halted and looked around. He saw Tomasso the
overseer, armed with only a club, battling manfully against two Spanish
soldiers, one with a bayonet and the second with a sword. Tomasso was
nearly exhausted, and would have been slain had not the young war
correspondent rushed up and turned the tide of battle in his favor. A
shot from his pistol wounded the fellow with the bayonet, and, seeing
himself attacked from behind, the other Spanish soldier took to his
heels and ran out of sight in the crowd.

"Thank you, señor, for your timely aid!" gasped Tomasso. "I owe you my
life!"

"And I owe you mine, Tomasso!" replied Howard. "But, come! we must find
your mistress."

"I thinks she is in cell forty-seven, señor."

"No, Captain Nocolo has carried her off. I saw him do it just before
the commencement of the attack."

"Then he has taken her from the prison. Ha! I have it!" went on the
overseer. "It had been decided that if Marambo were taken, he was to
retreat to Holguin, and there meet the reinforcements from Puerto Padre.
It is more than likely that the villain will force her to accompany
him. He is playing a double game. If possible, he intends to cut out
Lieutenant Mazenas and marry Estella for her fortune."

"But the lieutenant will have something to say about that," commented
Howard.

Tomasso shrugged his shoulders.

"In war times a man is easily killed, and the enemy gets the blame,
señor."

"I see. Well, come. It should be easy to trace the villainous captain,"
said Howard.

They left the vicinity of the prison, and fought their way through the
crowd beyond. They were stopped a dozen times by the inquiry, "Who goes
there?" and always replied promptly, "Cuba!"

"Stop!" called out Howard, suddenly, and then made a dive into a group
of half a dozen men. He caught one big fellow by the shoulder and
whispered in his ear:

"I have a message for Captain Nocolo---where has he gone?" were his
words.

The big man started; he was the same who had helped to carry Estella
from the prison. Then he bent forward.

"You will find him in a yellow coach, on the road to Holguin."

This coincided so closely with what Tomasso had said, that Howard
readily believed the soldier. He ran back to where the overseer was
standing.

"Come on; you were right, Tomasso," he cried; and as they set off on a
run, he related what the Spaniard had said.

It was still raining in torrents, and the roads were now filled with
mud. In some spots the highways were so bad they had to make wide
detours to keep from sinking up to their knees. But Tomasso knew the
ground well, and in consequence comparatively quick progress was made.

"I am glad it is raining," said the overseer. "The rebels will not be
able to burn the master's plantation."

"That is so," and then Howard asked: "But where has General Corona
gone?"

"Very likely to Puerto Padre, to join the Spanish forces. Since the
skirmish at the railroad, he has been wild to assume command again."

At this Howard relapsed into silence. The city was left behind, and
they came out on a country road, lined with sugar-cane fields.

On more than one occasion they saw bodies of the Spanish forces in
retreat to Holguin, but by concealing themselves in the cane-fields
they managed to avoid trouble. Inside of half an hour the rain ceased
and the sun came out.

"We must be getting near the head of the troops," remarked Howard,
uneasily. "Yet I see no signs of a yellow coach."

"I discern the outlines of a large vehicle ahead, and that may be it,"
said Tomasso. "Ah, it is! it is!"

He started on a run with Howard beside him. In his eagerness the young
war correspondent easily outstripped the faithful overseer, and soon
reached the side of the coach, which was plunging along in the mud as
rapidly as the four horses attached could drag it.

"Halt!" cried Howard to the driver.

"Stand back!" roared the man. "This is Captain Nocolo's coach."

"Howard! Howard! save me!" came in piteous tones from inside, and
Estella's frightened face appeared at the window. She was almost
instantly pulled out of sight by Captain Nocolo.

"Stop, or I'll shoot!" ordered Howard. "I demand the instant release of
the young lady who is inside."

Just as the words were uttered, Tomasso came up and stationed himself
at the front of the leading pair of horses. With a savage oath, the
driver pulled up on his lines. At the same moment Captain Nocolo stuck
his head out of the window.

"Go on! go on!" he cried to the driver. "Don't stop here!"

"A hold-up, capitan," was the grim reply, and as the words were spoken
the captain caught sight of Howard.

"You!" he yelled. "I will fix you!"

He rapidly drew his pistol and took aim at the young war correspondent.
But as the trigger fell Estella dashed up his arm and the bullet flew
wide of its mark.

"Curse you!" hissed the captain, in a rage. "Don't dare to do that
again."

Once more he aimed the weapon at Howard. But now Estella clung to his
arm, and he found it impossible to shake her off. Her face appeared
again at the narrow window.

"Save me, Howard," she shrieked. "Protect me from this human brute!"

"I will save you, Estella, darling!" he responded, and flew to the
coach door and pulled it open.

This movement caused Captain Nocolo to pitch forward, and in order
to save himself from falling he threw himself upon the young war
correspondent, and both rolled into the road. The pistol dropped into
the mud, and a fierce struggle ensued.

Estella wanted to assist her noble lover, but knew not what to do.
Trembling with excitement, she leaped out and tried to pull the captain
over backward.

In this she was successful. In the meantime Captain Nocolo had by an
adroit movement managed to draw a keen dagger from an inner pocket in
his coat.

"Take that!" he yelled, as he plunged the sharp-pointed weapon into
Howard's breast. "I reckon that will settle you for all time to come."

Howard tried to dodge the thrust, but could not, and with a groan he
sank back, gave a convulsive shudder and lay still.

"You have killed him!" shrieked Estella, and in despair she felt
herself on the verge of mental eclipse. She reeled and would have
fallen had not the captain caught her and thrown her into the coach
again.

"Back, for your life!" yelled Captain Nocolo to Tomasso, as he picked
up the fallen pistol, and as Tomasso retreated a few paces, he urged
the horses on, the driver plied the whip, and once more they went
forward, with poor Estella still their prisoner.

CHAPTER XXVI.

"DEFEND YOURSELF OR I WILL STRIKE YOU DEAD WHERE YOU STAND."

With her gentle heart all but paralyzed with fear, beautiful Estella
lay unconscious in the coach, only an occasional gasp proclaiming the
fact that life had not entirely left her.

"Turn off to the Bayamo road, Romano," were Captain Nocolo's directions
to the driver, and the man answered, "Si, capitan," and went on at
full speed.

"A narrow escape, truly," mused the rascally Spanish officer, as with
gloating eyes he drank in the beauty of Estella's well-moulded form.
"But she is still mine, and in the future I'll take good care to avoid
such surprises. The result of this war will be of little consequence to
me if I can make her my own, and remove her father, Mazenas and that
accursed American! Not only she, but her fortune must be mine!"

And he rubbed his fat hands together, as if Estella and her prospective
wealth were already within his grasp.

It was well that the coach turned off on a side road, for soon the main
body of the soldiery came along. From the coach window Captain Nocolo
gave directions to a lieutenant, and then the coach disappeared from
view.

When Estella recovered consciousness she found herself in an upper room
of a two-story stone house, such as are frequently seen in the interior
of Cuba, a rambling affair, whitewashed and partly covered with moss.
The room was small and plainly furnished.

She lay upon a rude bed, and as soon as she realized her situation
and remembered what had happened she leaped to her feet. She tried the
door, but found it locked. Then she ran to the single window of the
apartment and discovered that an iron grating had been securely nailed
over it from the outside.

"Heaven help me!" she moaned. "He has made me his prisoner! For what
purpose I dread to conjecture!"

The thought of what had occurred to Howard drove away, for the time
being, all thoughts concerning her own welfare. How seriously had her
lover been hurt? Were his injuries fatal?

"No, no! not that!" she moaned. "Oh, Heaven above, not that!"

In an agony of mind she began to pace the bare floor, and the sound of
her footsteps soon brought an old man to her door, a dried-up creature
with a crafty and cruel face. He carried in his hand a tray containing
a bottle of native wine and some flour cakes.

"Better have a bite, señorita," he mumbled. "Captain said you were to
have it."

"I want nothing," returned Estella, pushing the food aside. "Where is
Captain Nocolo?"

"Gone to report to the general. He will be back shortly."

"I will go below."

"Excuse me, but the captain's orders are that you remain in this room."

"You intend to keep me a prisoner?"

The old man nodded.

"I will not remain! Let me pass!"

She essayed to move toward the door. He blocked the way, and showed a
wonderful strength for so old a creature as he forced her back.

"Not so fast, my fair lady. I must obey orders," he chuckled, in his
Cuban patois. And leaped back to the doorway. "Attempt to escape, and
you will pay dearly for it," he added, threateningly.

"What does Captain Nocolo intend to do with me?"

"He said you and he were to be married."

"Married!" gasped Estella. "Never! I would rather die!"

"'Tis easily said. Yet it would be much better to be the gallant
captain's wife, to my way of thinking. However, we all have different
tastes. Some want garlic in their soup, some detest garlic, and some do
not want the soup at all!" and he laughed at his old Spanish saying.

To this Estella did not reply, and the old man left her.

The hours dragged by slowly until, toward noon, she heard somebody
approaching. From the window she saw that it was Captain Nocolo. In a
moment he presented himself at the door and smiled hypocritically.

"I am exceedingly glad to see that you have recovered," he remarked as
he locked the door, put the key in his pocket and seated himself on a
chair. "I was afraid you were seriously indisposed. I would not have
left you, but duty to our country demanded it."

"It's a great pity you did not remain away," she returned, coldly. "I
could have gotten along very well without you."

"You are very unkind, my fair Estella," he went on, suavely. "I did no
more than the force of circumstances demanded."

"Your attack upon Señor Sherwood was cowardly!"

"I differ with you. He attacked my coach first. Besides, he is nothing
but a rebel."

"If he is, then so am I, Captain Nocolo."

"You a rebel!" he laughed. "But, perhaps; anything to be with that spy,
I presume!"

"When are you going to set me free?" she demanded, changing the subject.

"As soon as you become my wife."

"That will never be!"

"We will see. I do not intend to stand aside for Lieutenant Mazenas any
longer."

"As I never intended to marry him, you will not have to stand aside,"
cried Estella. "But I will never marry you, so you might as well give
me my liberty."

He advanced and caught her suddenly by both wrists.

"I say you shall marry me!" he hissed. "I will force you to do it! You
cannot possibly escape me."

"Monster! unhand me!" she exclaimed in horror and tried to free herself.

"Ha! ha! you cannot get away, my beauty!" he cried, exultantly. "I am
master, as you see. Come! give me a warm kiss from your sweet ruby
lips."

"No! no! Help! help!" she panted.

"It is useless to cry for help," he laughed. "There is no one within
hearing but old Antonio, and he knows better than to lift a hand," and
he drew her still closer to him.

She struggled desperately, and partly freed herself, but again he
caught her, and this time his arm held her slender waist as in a vise.

"You are mine, my beautiful Estella," he cried, passionately. "Mine,
and I shall do with you as I will! I swore the other day that you
should be mine in spite of all, and that vow shall be kept. No one in
this world shall come between us!"

"Monster! Help! help!" shrieked Estella, panting from her exertions to
free herself from his embrace. He tried his hardest to kiss her, but
she turned her head away. In her struggle she dragged him half across
the room.

"Ha! ha! see, you can do nothing!" he laughed, rudely. "You are mine,
Estella, all mine! I will make you obey me in everything, and will----"

A crash upon the door from the outside made him cease speaking. Another
crash and the door fell down, and Howard Sherwood leaped into the room.

"Unhand her, you base villain!" cried the young war correspondent in a
ringing voice. "Unhand her and defend yourself, or I will strike you
dead where you stand!"

"Howard!" cried Estella, in joyful accents. "Oh, thank Heaven for this
deliverance!"

Captain Nocolo muttered a savage oath and released his hold. Whirling
about, he saw himself confronted by Howard with a drawn sword.

"Defend yourself, if you will," went on the young war correspondent,
steadily. "I will give you one second in which to prepare."

"As you will, you American cur!" howled the Spanish captain, and
whipping out his shining blade, he made a furious onslaught upon the
young man.

"Oh, Howard, he will kill you!" moaned Estella, as the two swords came
together with a ringing clash. "He is an experienced swordsman--I know
it!"

"I do not fear his skill!" responded Howard, as he compressed his
teeth, and at the same instant parried a swift thrust from the
captain's sword.

In an agony of terror Estella stood by, anxious to help Howard, yet
warned by him to keep in the rear. In the meanwhile Captain Nocolo
wondered why the old man, Antonio, did not appear, unaware that Howard
had struck him down and left him senseless in the kitchen below.

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE DUEL--HEMMED IN BY FLAMES.

"I see that I failed to wound you very seriously on the road," sneered
the captain, as he leaped back, preparatory to making a fresh onslaught.

"Yes, thanks to my leather-covered note-book, which turned your steel
aside," replied Howard. "But I will waste no more words with you," he
added, significantly. "You tried to swear my life away, and now you
must take the consequences."

"I am well able to take care of myself," sneered Captain Nocolo.

He was, as Estella had intimated, a skilful swordsman, and he imagined
that the young war correspondent knew little of the handling of a blade.

Howard's use of the foils at college now stood him in good stead. He
was out of practice, but realizing that it was a matter of life or
death, he was watchful to prevent his antagonist from getting the
better of him.

Click! clash! click! The swords crossed and recrossed each other with
lightning-like rapidity, making the sparks fly, and causing Estella to
stand by in silent terror, while praying mentally that Howard might
come out of the contest unharmed. She wanted to rush at the captain,
but her lover skilfully placed himself between them as he maneuvered
about to strike a telling blow.

"Ha! take that!" suddenly hissed Captain Nocolo, and quick as a flash
his sword punctured Howard's side, close under the right arm. Howard
uttered a cry and staggered, but did not fall.

"Murderer!" screamed Estella. "You knew he was not your equal."

"He brought it upon himself!" muttered the captain. "The conceit of
these Americans----"

"Defend yourself!" put in Howard, as he leaped forward again, a new
light shining in his glittering eyes.

Click! clash! fell his sword so heavily that the captain's guard was
beaten down. A second later and the young war correspondent's blade
struck the captain's neck, inflicting a deep cut, and causing the
Spaniard to throw up both arms and stagger to the bed, there to fall
unconscious.

A moment of intense silence followed, then Howard dropped his gory
blade, and turned to Estella. She rushed to him and threw herself in
his arms.

"Oh, Howard!" was all she could say, and shuddered as she buried her
face upon his shoulder.

"I had to do it, Estella," he said. "It was his life or mine."

"Is he--he dead?" she whispered.

"I think not. A wound of that sort is rarely mortal. But he needs
medical assistance."

As Howard spoke he heard footsteps on the stairs. He walked to the
doorway and met the old man, Antonio, staggering up, his head swathed
in a bandage.

"The captain----" began the old fellow, but Howard out him short.

"Get cloths and bind up his wounds, and send for an army surgeon," he
commanded. "I don't care to have the rascal's blood on my head," he
added to the trembling girl at his side.

"No, no, Howard; and yet he deserves what he got," murmured Estella.
"Oh, how thankful I am that you came when you did!" and she shuddered
once more as she thought of the perils she had escaped.

"We must get away from here, my darling," he said, as he gave her
another rapturous embrace. "The Spanish soldiers tried to detain me
when I recovered, and Tomasso and I had a fierce fight with them. By
some means we were separated, and I don't know what became of the
plucky fellow, but I do know that the soldiery will be here before
long."

"I am ready to depart instantly, Howard, but where shall we go?"

"Would you not feel as safe at home as anywhere? There your servants
will at least protect you from insult, no matter what the outcome of
this fearful war."

"But to get home--it will not be safe for you to be seen by the Spanish
authorities. They will have no mercy for a condemned criminal!"

"I will risk that. Come! the storm has cleared off, and if I am not
mistaken we can get a couple of horses from the stable below."

"Those horses belong----" began Antonio, but a look from Howard
silenced him.

The young man picked up his sword and followed Estella to the lower
floor.

They took their pick of the animals, and were soon well out of sight of
the old house in which the thrilling duel had occurred. Estella said
she knew the face of the country fairly well, and this enabled them to
take many a short cut across the fields and through the woods. On the
way she told the particulars of how Captain Nocolo had carried her off,
and of his intentions regarding her. In return he told of his escape
from the prison, and of all that had occurred since then. In this
manner an hour quickly passed.

"If your father joins the Spanish Army it will be more difficult than
ever to persuade him that the insurgents are in the right," observed
Howard. "What a pity he cannot throw off this yoke of tyranny!"

"It is indeed a pity!" sighed Estella. "But papa belongs to another
generation, you know. He cannot imagine Cuba free and enjoying the
blessings of self-government."

"I fervently hope that this conflict will establish the island's
freedom, for freedom is bound to come if it takes a hundred years to
get here."

Estella uttered a little laugh at this speech.

"I love your Yankee enthusiasm," she remarked. "It stirs all the
patriotism in my heart."

On and on they went, along a road little traveled, and now deserted
save by a few poor families who, scared by the proximity of the
cannonading, were removing to what they fancied would be safer
quarters. These people, mostly old men, women and children, stared at
them as they rode past, but asked no questions, being thankful that
they themselves were not molested.

"Here are the outskirts of my father's property," said Estella at last,
as they came to a turn where the road narrowed down to little more than
a foot-path. "Marambo lies off in that direction and over to the left
is where you had that awful encounter with the bloodhounds."

"Then we cannot be far from the house," returned Howard. "Let us be
careful how we approach. There is no telling what has happened since
you were here last."

"Alas, that is true! But let us hope for the best!"

With her heart beating violently, Estella rode on beside Howard. Soon,
on account of the boggy nature of the ground, they were forced to
abandon their horses and proceed on foot.

"I hear no sounds that would indicate any thing unusual about the
house" said Estella, her ears on the alert. "The rebels must have
passed the place by, otherwise, as father has directed they be paid
nothing, they would have destroyed everything."

"A few minutes more will tell all," replied her lover. "If we----Hark!"

He caught his sweetheart by the arm, thus bringing her to a halt in the
very centre of the sugar-cane field they were traversing. She listened,
but the sounds that had alarmed him had ceased.

"What was it?" she asked, with a blanching face.

"I heard voices--they sounded like half a dozen men speaking in a low
tone," he whispered. "Listen, don't you hear them now?"

He was silent, and presently she nodded her head. The voices came from
two directions, to the right and to the left of them.

"They may be some of your workmen on guard," he went on. "They may have
heard us and are coming to investigate. If they----"

A loud and ringing shout from the direction of the barns made him
pause. Estella grew so faint he had to catch her to keep her from
falling.

"Cuba libre! Cuba libre! Burn! burn! burn!"

"The rebels!" gasped the beautiful girl. "They have attacked the place
at last. Oh, what shall we do?"

"We must get out of this sugar-cane field!" responded Howard, quickly.
"It is not safe here. Come!"

He turned to lead her back, then gave a start of horror, for he saw a
thick volume of smoke rolling skyward, telling them that the insurgents
had already applied the torch.

"We cannot escape in that direction!" he cried. "We must go some other
way."

"We are hemmed in!" burst from Estella's lips. "See! the field is afire
on all sides! Oh, Howard, we are doomed!"

He looked about them. Estella was right; from every point the thick
smoke arose, followed by long tongues of flame. Already they could
hear the distant crackling of the inflammable cane, coming closer and
closer. A few minutes more would surely settle their fate!

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"BACK! THAT I MAY STRIKE HIM DEAD WHERE HE STANDS!"

It was certainly a thrilling situation in which beautiful Estella and
her brave lover now found themselves. Surrounded on every side by
leaping flames, coming closer and closer, with incredible swiftness, it
looked indeed as if they were doomed.

"Oh, Heaven have mercy upon us!" moaned the fair girl, as the hot ashes
from the burning cane were thrown in their faces. "Howard, we must die!"

"Die! Never!" he responded as he clasped her in his arms and
passionately kissed her tear-stained cheeks. "Never while I have one
breath left with which to fight for life! Down, Estella! quick!"

He forced her to drop on her knees in one of the shallow pools close at
hand and with his hands saturated her dress. Then taking off his coat,
he wet that and placed it about her head and shoulders.

"Oh, Howard, don't! You will suffer yourself!" she cried, in sweet
protest, but he would not listen.

Having wet her garments, he proceeded to drench himself, and hastily
raised her up again.

By this time the fire was so close that the roaring and crackling rang
loudly in their ears, occasionally augmented by sounds similar to
the firing of a musket as an air-tight stalk would become heated and
explode. The ashes fairly covered them, and had their garments not been
wet, they would have been burned.

Looking about to discover the direction in which the flames appeared to
be the thinnest, Howard ran with his fair burden to the south, opposite
to the direction from which the wind was coming. He chose a hollow in
the sugar-cane field, in which the recent rain had left several inches
of water, and this brought them to within fifty feet of the outskirts
of the burning territory.

But now the hollow came to an end, and before them the fire burned
almost as fiercely as anywhere. Estella gave one look at the horrible
scene and buried her pale face in his bosom.

"Howard, we cannot, cannot go through that!" she moaned.

"We must! It means life to us, for there is naught but death awaiting
us here," he responded. "Take a deep breath, and hold it as long as you
can, my darling."

She did as he commanded, and he did the same. Then, with a silent
prayer to Heaven, he made a dash straight into the fire.

The flames roared all about him and his precious burden; they licked
his lower limbs and caused the soles of his boots to burn; they came
even higher and scarred his neck and burned his mustache and eyelashes.
Yet he stumbled on, turning and twisting to avoid the larger masses of
fire, knocking the live embers from Estella's dress, and catching his
breath as best he could.

He was about to sink down, utterly exhausted, when he saw a clear
opening at last and sprang through it, and they were saved.

"Caramba!" shouted a voice close beside them, but Howard did not hear
it.

He staggered to a grassy knoll, dropped his fair burden and sank down
insensible.

When Estella managed to stand up and uncover her head she found herself
surrounded by a dozen or more Cuban rebels, each with a lighted torch
in his hand. The men were armed with nothing but machetes, and they
looked at her and Howard in wonder.

"What do you in the sugar cane?" finally asked a big fellow, who
appeared to be the leader of the crowd.

Estella did not immediately answer. She turned her attention to Howard,
who lay on his back, panting for breath. He was not seriously hurt,
and soon managed to sit up and open his eyes.

"Estella--you are safe?" he murmured.

"Thank Heaven for that!"

"You brave, brave man!" she whispered. "You are more than a hero, my
king!"

"Who is that man?" demanded the Cuban who had spoken to her, and his
hand sought the handle of his big knife.

"Cuba!" murmured Howard, and the rebel at once smiled.

"And the lady?"

"I am Estella Corona," replied the beautiful girl, proudly. "This field
belongs to my father."

"Ha! General Corona's daughter! Then he tells a lie!" The rebel pointed
to Howard. "He is for Spain!"

He drew his machete and rushed at the young war correspondent as if to
stab him to the heart, but Estella leaped between.

"He tells the truth, señor!" she cried. "He has just escaped from the
prison at Marambo."

"And you?"

"I was also in the prison."

"You--a Corona! Do not deceive me, señora."

"It is true. I am a Corona, but I believe in the liberty of Cuba."

"Good! But your father, the old general? I knew him years ago."

"I cannot speak for him," replied Estella, evasively.

"He defied us!" burst out another of the rebels. "He said he would pay
tax only to Spain. Had it been otherwise we should not have touched his
plantation."

"What of the house?" demanded Howard, struggling to his feet.

"Look for yourself, señor."

At that moment a bugle call sounded, and without waiting for more
words, the detachment of rebels hurried away. A moment after came the
rattle of musketry and the shouts of the wounded and dying.

"The Spanish troops have arrived!" exclaimed Estella. "See! they are
coming along the main road, several hundred strong."

"They are too late to do much good here," was Howard's comment. "See!
the fire is everywhere! No doubt the house and stables are already a
mass of ruins. The loss will fall heavily on your father."

"And make him more bitter than ever toward the rebels," said the fair
girl, dismally. Then of a sudden she started back. "Look! look! Howard."

She pointed through an opening back of them, where the Spanish soldiers
could be seen, some on foot and others on horseback.

"What do you see?"

"My father! He is leading the attack upon the rebels!"

Estella was right; there, at the head of the Spanish column, rode
General Corona, waving his sword and shouting out orders as in his
younger military days.

"He will be killed!" gasped Estella, as she saw her father surrounded.

But in another moment the old general had shaken off the rebels who
clustered around him. Then the tide of battle appeared to change, and
in another instant Howard and Estella found themselves in the very
midst of the fray.

Luckily, Howard still had his sword with him, and he struck out right
and left, thus clearing a circle about them. Estella was in great
danger of being trampled under foot, but he saved her, in spite of the
fury and tumult of the conflict.

"Estella!"

It was a cry from General Corona. He dashed up to his daughter's side
just as Howard had thrown back a Spanish cavalryman who was about to
overrun her.

"Father!"

"You are safe!" murmured the father. "And the accursed rebels have
fired everything--the house, the barns, the store-houses, all the
fields. Ha! who is that? The American spy!"

He made a wild dash toward Howard, who was taken somewhat aback by
surprise. In another moment the general would have struck down his
daughter's lover with his sword, but Estella interfered.

"Father, father, don't! You do not know! He saved my life!"

"And this is his work!" shouted General Corona, savagely. "He hired the
rebels to attack the place that I might be humbled! Lieutenant Mazenas
exposed the plot to me. Back! that I may strike him dead where he
stands!"

In a frenzy of passion the general urged his horse forward, and, being
at a disadvantage, Howard was forced to retreat. Then came a rush from
the rebel forces, and in a few moments Estella, her father, and the
young war correspondent were separated.

Surrounded by Spanish soldiers, the rebels fought desperately, and
Howard was compelled to fight with them, for it was taken for granted
that all Americans in battle were foes of the Spanish Government. He
had no time to look for his sweetheart; it was cut and thrust upon
every side. Soon he and the rebels around him were driven a good half
mile back from the spot. Then the tide of battle turned once more; the
Cubans were reinforced, and the Spanish troops were put in full retreat
in the direction of Bayamo.

The fighting at an end, Howard began a search for Estella that lasted
until dark. It was utterly useless; she could not be found.

Hungry, tired and footsore, he limped to the insurgents' camp, to take
some much-needed rest.

CHAPTER XXIX.

"IF EVER I MARRY, MY HUSBAND WILL BE A MAN
OF HONOR; NOT A LOW TRICKSTER."

Several days had passed, days fraught with excitement, battles and
death. With a daring scarcely conceivable, the Cuban insurgents had
driven back the Spanish troops from Bayamo to Jababo. Slowly but surely
they were forcing the enemies of liberty to the western end of the
island; but the trail was red with blood and hot with the ashes of
burning homes, plantations and sugar houses.

The Corona plantations had been laid in utter ruin, and all of the many
workmen had left General Corona and joined the rebel army. The women
had scattered, too, and only Cara remained by Estella's side. By little
short of a miracle General Corona had saved his daughter from harm, and
managed, although not without a great deal of trouble, to assist her to
the home of a friend, twenty miles distant from the plantation. Here
Estella had been joined by Cara, and mistress and maid had been sent,
under escort of a guard of four men, to another residence owned by her
father at Puerto Principe.

This place was a large stone mansion, and it was shut up and fortified,
this being done in case the rebels should gain ground and advance in
that direction. At that time no Spaniard dreamed that the Cubans would
soon be knocking at the very doors of Havana itself, the conquerors of
all the remainder of "The Ever-Faithful Isle."

Estella was allowed the liberty of the house, but was not permitted
to go outside, even to walk in the garden, which was full of choice
flowers and shrubs. Her father would not listen to her story of how
Howard had saved her life and had chided her roundly for all her rebel
tendencies.

"The American is what they call smart, but that is all. He is here for
adventure and gold--he is not fighting for a principle," said General
Corona. "I want you to forget him. As for those accursed rebels, we
will soon have them under foot, and then we will make them pay dearly
for their doings!"

He rode away without even kissing her, as was his usual habit. Later
on Estella learned that he had given strict orders that she must not
be allowed outside of the door, nor was she to receive any visitors,
unless they were sent by himself. She was virtually a prisoner.

Hard as was her lot, Estella thought nothing of it. She would have
been content had she but known that her lover was safe. But she knew
absolutely nothing of what had become of Howard, and her mind was in an
agony of fear, thinking he had been killed in the battle, or seriously
wounded.

In several ways she endeavored to send out some message that might
reach him, but each time the endeavor was a failure. The men her father
had hired to guard the place were faithful to their trust, and nothing
escaped their notice.

Cara, also, was very unhappy, for Tomasso, the one man of her heart,
was missing. With tears in her eyes the maid would speak of him.

"If he were here he would help you," she said. "But, alas! he, too, has
gone! Perhaps both have been killed!"

And then she would burst out afresh.

On the fourth day of her enforced seclusion, Estella, from her bedroom
window, saw a horseman in the uniform of a Spanish officer ride in
at the broad gateway and up to the front of the house. He carried his
arm in a sling, and his soft hat, with its drooping black ostrich
feather, was pulled well down over his face, yet as he came closer she
recognized him as Lieutenant Mazenas. He passed in at the front door
and Cara presently came to announce him.

"I do not care to see him!" exclaimed Estella, with a pale face. "Tell
him I am not receiving visitors."

The maid departed, but speedily returned.

"He says he brings news from your father, and must speak to you in
private."

The beautiful girl had not heard from her parent for forty-eight hours,
and, afraid that something might have happened to him, she made a few
changes in her toilet, and met the lieutenant in the gloomy parlor,
each window of which was now heavily barred, in defense of a possible
attack.

"I am glad to see you so well," were the lieutenant's first words, as
he came up and attempted to take her hand, but she merely bowed coldly,
motioned him to a chair on one side of the parlor, and seated herself
on the other side of the room.

"You say you have news from papa," she said. "What is it?"

"He has been in another battle at Vista Lake. He was wounded, but
he wished me to tell you that the wound is not at all serious. He
was afraid the servants here might learn of it and frighten you by
exaggerated reports."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Mazenas; it was considerate of him to send you.
And is that all?"

He turned his small eyes full upon her, as if drinking in the beautiful
picture she presented.

"You do not seem glad to see me," he said, reproachfully. "You do not
ask me about myself," and he pointed to the arm in the sling.

"You have been wounded, I see."

"Yes, I was shot through the forearm the day before yesterday. We had a
hard time to beat the rebels back from this very town."

"They are then so close!" cried Estella, and her heart gave a bound.
"Who is in command?"

"Captain Martinez."

"Ah!"

She said no more, but the look on her face betrayed her.

"You know him then?"

"I do. A brave and good man."

"I see you still love the rebels," he sneered. "Well, have your
way--women count for little in such a struggle as this." He sprang up
and approached her. "They are far more important in other ways--in
love, for instance," he added.

He tried to catch her by the hand, but she indignantly spurned him and
arose with blazing eyes.

"You forget yourself, Lieutenant Mazenas!" she cried, sternly.

"I do not forget myself, Estella; it is you who are not acting
rightly," he returned, hotly. "You seem to forget the relationship I
hold to you."

"And what is that?"

"Your affianced husband."

"Never."

"I speak the truth. You are to be my wife this very week. Your father
has given me his word."

"I will never marry you, Lieutenant Mazenas. I will kill myself first!"

"This is mere talk, Estella. The day has been set, and when I leave you
shall go forth to engage the minister."

Angry emotion made her flush and pale by turns. Was it possible that
her father would force her into this odious marriage, after all? She
knew how stern he was, how unrelenting, and now she was absolutely in
his power.

"You spoke to my father of this when last you met him?" she asked,
faintly.

"Yes, we talked it over and arranged all plans. My arm is so badly
shattered that I cannot go in command again, and so I am off duty, on a
hospital furlough. We are to be married to-morrow night, if your father
can get here, and then I am to take you to Havana."

His words, so smoothly spoken, seemed to chill her very blood. She
stared at him in increasing horror.

"I--I will never consent--never!" she murmured, the words dying away in
a faint whisper.

"Your father says he will force you, and I imagine he has full power.
You are foolish to resist in this fashion. There is nothing in my
character that is objectionable, I am sure."

"Nothing?" she echoed. "Nothing! And you did your best to have Howard
Sherwood poisoned! Nothing! when you and Captain Nocolo, and a rascally
American lawyer have cheated him out of the large estate which formerly
belonged to his uncle!"

At this torrent of words, so unexpectedly delivered, Lieutenant Mazenas
fell back dumfounded.

"Who--who told you this?" he managed to gasp, finally.

"Never mind who my informant was; it is enough that I told you," she
replied. "And you desire my hand in marriage? You plead in vain. If
ever I marry, my husband will be a man of honor, not a low trickster!"

"My curse upon that American spy!" hissed the lieutenant, savagely.
Then a cruel light came into his face, and he stepped close to Estella
as if to enjoy the effect his next words would produce. "It is
fortunate that he is dead!"

"Dead!"

All the color left her beautiful face, and she clutched at a chair for
support. "You say he is dead? It is a--a lie!"

"It is the truth. He was killed in battle yesterday. Your father will
tell you the same."

Dead! Her lover, the very light of her young life, dead! Had a shaft of
steel penetrated her heart she could not have suffered more. The room
appeared to go round and round. She started for the doorway, to escape
this heartless villain, who appeared to enjoy the grief he had caused.
Then she gave one mighty, convulsive sob, fell backward and lay upon
the carpet like one whose life had come to an end.

CHAPTER XXX.

ESTELLA'S PRAYER.

"Where--where am I, Cara?"

"Be quiet my darling!" murmured the maid, as she smoothed the dark
tresses back from Estella's icy forehead. "Thank Heaven you have come
to yourself at last. It was a bad spell indeed!"

The pale, but still beautiful, girl lay on her bed, to which Cara
and another servant had carried her. For three hours she had lain in
an unconscious condition, and a local doctor had been in constant
attendance. The doctor had just gone, after pronouncing her out of
danger.

"What has happened?" she asked, slowly, and then the horrible truth
suddenly came back to her, and she began to sob piteously.

Cara did all she could to comfort Estella, but that was but little. The
girl's grief was most intense, and there seemed no way of assuaging it.

"He is dead, Cara--dead!" she moaned. "Oh, would to Heaven that I
were dead, too! Why was I not by his side, when he fell, to ease his
dying moments." She arose slowly and began to move across the floor
unsteadily. "And this is the end--the bitter end!"

"Won't you drink a little wine, my dear mistress? It will strengthen
you, I am sure."

"No, no, I could not swallow it! I can't remember what happened after
he--after Lieutenant Mazenas told me the sad news."

"I heard you fall and ran in, and so did Lizette. We picked you up, and
sent the lieutenant for the doctor. He has just gone, and Lieutenant
Mazenas went with him."

"What did the lieutenant have to say?"

"He said he would inform your father, that is all. He was much
disappointed, and half imagined you were shamming."

"Shamming," cried Estella, indignantly. "Would that I could bring to
his heart one-half of the pain he has brought to mine!"

"And so say I, my dear mistress. In my opinion, the lieutenant is a
brute. But, alas! your father thinks quite differently!"

"Cara, my father would compel me to marry that man!"

"I know it, the more shame to him!" cried the maid, boldly. "Now, if it
was Señor Howard----"

"Don't speak of him--now that he is dead! I cannot bear it. Oh, would
that I could fly from here?"

"It can be done, sweet mistress, if you will," whispered the maid.

"Can be done--how? The guards are outside, and----"

"But they are not below, and I know of a secret way out of the
cellar--a way which leads to the river----"

"You must show it to me, Cara," ejaculated Estella. "I cannot remain
here, to be linked to that brute; such an abominable alliance would
drive me insane. I will fly, join the rebel army, and make myself known
far and wide as Estella, the little Cuban rebel! I will show Lieutenant
Mazenas that women are of some account in this world! Come, Cara,
gather up our things, and waste not a single moment, lest it be too
late to fly!"

In nervous haste Estella took the lead in picking up such articles as
she wished to carry with her. The maid followed, and in five minutes
the bundle was made up.

"I will go first," said Cara, "and will get the other servants out of
the way, so they may think you are still up here. When you hear me
start to sing, come down."

She glided out of the bedroom, and with a last look around Estella
waited for the signal. Soon she heard Cara's clear voice singing in
Spanish:

"A lover bold, with a heart of gold,
Rode off to the distant battlefield;
His heart was light, and his sword was bright--
To the enemy he ne'er would yield."

Estella waited to hear no more. She hurried to the door, threw it open,
and--confronted her father.

"Hullo!" He started back in surprise. "Verily, I thought you were sick
in bed. What is the meaning of this? What have you in that bundle?"

Astonished and dismayed, Estella shrank back and swung the bundle
behind her. With a quick movement he tore the bundle from her hand, and
emptied the contents on the floor.

"Ha! I thought as much. So you were going to run away in secret! It is
well that I appeared in the nick of time. I fancy the lieutenant was
right when he said you were shamming."

"Father!"

"No, no! the time is past for sweet speeches, Estella. I have resolved
to take you in hand. While I am doing what I can for our noble country,
you are playing the part of the rebel, both outside and in our home."
He stamped his foot savagely. "This must not be! Here is an end of it!"

"Father, your opinions cannot sway me. I believe the rebels are in the
right, and, what is more, my prophetic soul tells me that Cuba will one
day be free--she must be free!"

"Tut, tut, child! I want no more of this. Things have come to a pretty
pass when women are allowed to talk in this fashion! Put those things
away, and let us come to business. The lieutenant told you of my
wishes."

"You have told me of them yourself."

"You are to marry Lieutenant Mazenas to-morrow evening, at seven
o'clock. The ceremony will take place in the parlor below."

"I cannot marry him, father."

"You must! Say not another word. The stories that villainous American
spy circulated about Mazenas are all false. I believe he told you the
fellow is dead. We both saw him slain, mowed down by a discharge from
one of our cannon." She shuddered, but he kept right on. "I am glad he
is no more. I wish I had kept you away from all Americans. They have
poisoned your mind."

"It is your mind that is poisoned, father. If you would but----"

"Silence!" He advanced and made a movement as if to strike her, but she
did not flinch, and his arm fell as suddenly as it had been raised. "I
am master here. Not another word, Estella, and, remember, to-morrow
night, at seven o'clock."

And he strode from the apartment as quickly as he had entered it.

Utterly overcome in mind and heart, she threw herself upon the bed.
She lay there for fully half an hour, then sprang up, her lips tightly
compressed.

"I will do it," she murmured, "I must!"

Hastily she summoned Cara, who, seeing the plan of escape had fallen
through, and fearing the general's wrath, had kept out of sight.

"Cara," she whispered, "do you think you can leave the city without
detection and find the rebel camp? Can't you do it, for my sake?"

"What--alone, my dear mistress?"

"Yes, you must go alone, for my father will now have me watched more
closely than ever. Leave in the darkness to-night, and try to find
Captain Martinez, and deliver to him a letter that I will write."

"I will do it," cried the maid. "I want to get out--to find out what
has become of Tomasso."

"Then prepare at once. And, remember, you must not fail to deliver the
letter. To me it is a matter of life or death; for rather than marry
Lieutenant Mazenas, I will stab myself to the heart with this."

And she exposed the hilt of the dagger she had purchased in Santiago.

"I will do my very best," murmured Cara, and then Estella sat down to
pen the letter, requesting that the rebels make an immediate advance,
and come directly to her father's mansion.

She also wrote another letter, to be posted, which was addressed to her
father, requesting him to at once join his troops outside of Puerto
Principe.

"That will let him escape," she thought. "As for the lieutenant, I
trust that he will be caught."

It was dark when Cara kissed her mistress farewell and left the
mansion, the guards allowing her to pass the gate without question.
As she disappeared, Estella uttered a silent prayer that her strange
mission might prove successful.

The beautiful girl did not sleep throughout the warm, tropical night.
From afar she heard the occasional discharge of firearms; but it was
not this which kept her awake. She was thinking of her own wretched
condition. If Cara failed, her case was indeed hopeless.

CHAPTER XXXI.

A PERILOUS ESCAPE--A GOOD SHOT.

The morning dawned bright and warm. Outside of the mansion the numerous
tropical birds sang loudly and merrily, utterly regardless of the
horrible war which was bringing destruction upon every hand.

An hour before Estella had dropped into a troubled doze, but now she
roused up with a start. Day had come and she was just so many hours
nearer her awful fate.

As she lay upon the bed, still dressed, she brought from her bosom the
little dagger, and toyed with it suggestively. In that sad hour it
seemed to be her only friend.

"Howard is dead," she mused, "and papa will not listen to my pleadings.
Why should I not end it all?"

The knock of a servant made her put the cruel bit of steel away. She
bade the woman enter.

"Breakfast is served, Doña Estella. Shall I bring it up to you?"

"I want nothing, Luola," replied the beautiful girl, wearily. "I wish
only to be alone. Say! Has my father left the mansion?"

"Yes, he went at five o'clock."

The servant departed, and Estella was left once more to herself. She
walked to the window and looked out.

With the coming of day the distant firing had ceased, and now no
unusual sounds broke the stillness. The town, but a short distance
away, seemed asleep, as was its usual wont in days of peace.

"If papa is away, he may not receive the letter I sent, and if he comes
back, and Cara should succeed----"

She suddenly paused as she heard a hand upon her door. The next instant
Cara glided in as silently as a shadow.

"Hush!" said the maid, warningly, ere her mistress could speak. "I
found Captain Martinez, and he says he cannot attack this place
to-night. But he has sent help--six soldiers--who wait below at the
entrance to the secret passage. Come at once, if you want to escape."

"But the guards below----" began Estella.

"They have just had their morning drink, and I drugged it well. They
will be more than half asleep. We can get away from here easily, but it
will be difficult to leave the city, dear mistress."

"I am prepared to dare anything," said Estella, and catching up a few
things, she followed Cara out of the bedroom, taking the precaution to
lock the door after her, that the servants might suppose she was still
inside.

The lower floor of the mansion was easily gained. From this they passed
into the buttery, and here entered an arched place, which covered the
stream of spring water which flowed through the buttery to the river
beyond. It was a low opening, scarcely four feet high, and in places
they were compelled to wade through the water. Estella shivered with
the cold, but no thought of turning back entered her head.

"Here we are," said Cara, and stopped at a spot where there was an
opening overhead.

She thrust up a hand, and two rebel soldiers drew her up. Estella
immediately followed, and the little party ran for the shelter of some
bushes which lined the river bank. They were soon joined by the four
remaining rebels, who had been on guard about the mansion.

"The coast is clear," said the leader. "I trust we shall have as easy a
time at the city line."

No more was said. They walked to a bit of woods skirting the river, and
then entered a bypath leading to the rebel camp. In a quarter of an
hour the leader called a halt.

"We will go ahead and reconnoitre," he said. "You two women remain
where you are. This is where we came in. I want to see if our men are
still doing duty as Spanish pickets."

Estella and her maid were left behind in the shelter of a cattle
herder's lodge, and the soldiers went on silently, and with guns ready
for use. With wildly beating hearts, the pair waited for them to
return. Five--ten--fifteen minutes passed. Then suddenly they heard
half a dozen shots and loud shouting. Soon one of the soldiers came
running toward them.

"We are discovered! Run for it!" he cried, and hurried on.

Estella started and grasped Cara's hand. What course was now best to
pursue?

A bold light sprang into the beautiful girl's eyes.

"Cara, I am going to brave the pickets," she said. "I would rather die
than remain in the city."

"I will accompany you, no matter what the consequences," responded the
maid.

"But it may mean death, Cara."

"Let us hope for the best," was the cheery reply.

They left the lodge and struck out into the woods. The firing still
continued, but grew fainter and fainter to their ears. Soon they
reached the edge of the woods. Beyond was a large meadow filled with
grazing cattle.

"If we can but cross yonder meadow, I think we shall be safe," said
Estella. "Come! every moment is precious."

She went on, Cara closely following. The cattle looked up in wonder as
they flew along, but offered them no harm.

Presently a shout rang out from behind.

"Halt!"

"We are discovered, dear mistress!" cried Cara.

"Come, come! do not waste a second," ejaculated Estella. "Turn to the
left. Beyond that strip of brush is another meadow, and that must reach
beyond the picket lines."

She dashed on, her wet skirts impeding her progress, and Cara came
after. A shot was fired to warn them, but it did no harm, nor did it
make them come to a halt.

The second meadow reached, they climbed the rough stone fence and
continued to run. But soon Cara uttered a shout of dismay and turned
off to one side.

"The bulls! the bulls!"

Estella looked ahead and saw a sight that caused her very heart to
stand still. The meadow contained half a dozen powerful bulls, all
savage-looking creatures. One of the beasts was advancing straight for
her, his head bent low, and his small eyes rolling angrily!

She tried to cry out, but the words stuck in her throat. Then she
started to run, but stumbled, and gave herself up for lost.

Bang!

The shot came from the woods on the opposite side of the meadow.

The aim of the marksman was true, for, struck directly in the neck,
the bull turned from his course and staggered away to the edge of the
field, there to die. Alarmed by the shot, the other bulls also fled.

Wondering who her preserver could be, Estella hurried to the spot
whence the thin wreath of smoke was curling from the discharged gun.
Soon the woods were reached, and a man rushed out to meet her.

"Estella, my darling!"

She paused in wonder and delight. Was she dreaming or was this really
her noble lover who stood before her? She gave a little cry of intense
joy and threw herself into his arms.

"Howard! And they told me you were dead!"

"They? Who?" he asked, as he rained lingering kisses upon her lips
and stroked her silken hair, which had fallen down over her graceful
shoulders.

"Lieutenant Mazenas and my father. They declared that you had been cut
down by the discharge of a Spanish cannon, several days ago."

"Ah! I remember that. I was trying to get at the rascally lieutenant
when the cannon ball came so close to me that it took the breath right
out of me, and I fell to the ground unconscious. I was picked up by
some rebel friends and taken to the rear, and in an hour I was as well
as ever."

"Thank Heaven you are alive!" she murmured. "Oh, Howard, you cannot
imagine how I felt when they told me you were dead."

Once more he pressed her to his bosom, and showered kiss after kiss
upon her ruby lips ere he went on.

"I was just coming from Captain Martinez's headquarters. He told me
Cara had been there, and he had sent six soldiers to your assistance. I
came out to be on the watch. I had determined, if it was necessary, to
make my way directly to your father's mansion."

"They were going to force me into a marriage with Lieutenant Mazenas,"
shuddered Estella. "The ceremony was to take place this evening."

"Force you into such an odious contract!" cried Howard, with flashing
eyes. "And you----"

Estella showed the dagger she possessed.

"I would have killed myself with this ere I would have submitted."

Her dark eyes flashed, showing that she meant what she said. He drew
her still closer, while a joyful mist dimmed her eyes, and she began to
sob in his arms.

"Oh, Howard, my king, you will protect me now?"

"I will do all that mortal man can do. I will save you from the
lieutenant forevermore, if you will do as I desire."

"And that is----"

She hesitated, while a sudden warm flush came to her dark cheeks.

"Will you become my wife now, Estella?" he asked, tenderly. "You know
how much I love you--more than words can tell. Say you will be mine
this very day and thus make me the happiest man on earth."

He looked down into those dark eyes so wistfully, his own so full of
tender passion, that she could not turn away. She threw her arms about
his neck and kissed him lightly, yet with an intensity of emotion that
thrilled him to the soul.

"As you will, Howard," she whispered, "I am yours, all yours,
forevermore!"

CHAPTER XXXII.

A STARTLING INTERRUPTION.

It was some little time later, when Howard and Estella, accompanied
by the faithful Cara--now also happy for the reason that the young
war correspondent had assured her that Tomasso was alive and in the
vicinity--left the woods and took to the road leading to the nearest
camp of the insurgents. As they journeyed along Estella told her story
in detail, to which he listened with much interest.

"I have also much to tell," he said. "Since we parted I have been able
to send much important news to the press association I represent, and
I have also been promoted to a captaincy in the Cuban Army. So if you
marry me you will become the wife of a full-fledged rebel!" he laughed.

"I will be proud of that," she responded, with an arch smile. "Am I not
a little Cuban rebel myself? Ah, how I wish papa might see things in
the light we do--have correct ideas of Spanish injustice."

"The burning of his plantation had, no doubt, made him doubly bitter
against the insurgents," said her lover. "It is a mystery how that
attack started," he went on. "Captain Martinez gave no orders to that
effect, nor did any of his associates. Some one said the orders came
direct from General Gomez, but I cannot believe that possible."

"Lieutenant Mazenas intimated to my father that you were responsible
for the attack upon the place, and what is worse, my father believes
all the stories told about you."

"I am half of the opinion the destruction of the cane was the
lieutenant's work," cried Howard, struck by a sudden idea. "He might do
it, to make your father more bitter against me. His stories and actions
prove his hatred of me."

"He is afraid of you."

At the end of the conversation they had come in view of the rebel camp.
They were halted several times, but Howard had the password, and the
badge he now wore on his breast--a miniature rebel flag, five blue and
white stripes, with a red triangle and a single white star--allowed
them to pass without further question.

Once in the camp, Estella and her maid were made as comfortable as
possible in a spacious tent. Cara was over-joyed to see Tomasso, who
had attached himself to the young war correspondent's company.

Howard went off and came back in an hour, smiling quietly to himself.

"I have been talking to one of the chaplains attached to the camp," he
said, as he drew her aside. "He is a most worthy man, and was formerly
the rector of one of the Episcopal churches at Santiago. He says he
would be greatly pleased to perform the ceremony for us, at any time
you may select."

Estella's heart gave a bound, and she blushed with maidenly modesty. He
drew her to him fondly, and at last she whispered a few words into his
ear.

"So shall it be," he said. "This evening at sunset. I will invite
Captain Martinez and a few others, and Cara and Tomasso can also be
there. I am sorry I cannot grant you a more stylish wedding, but----"

"I do not want it," she whispered. "To marry you will be enough to
satisfy me," and he embraced her and said no more.

When Cara was told, she beamed brightly. A wedding was quite to her
taste. She told Tomasso of it, and on the spot Tomasso asked why they
could not go and do likewise, and after torturing the poor fellow for
over an hour, she consented.

There were several ladies in the camp, wives of the officers, and as
soon as it was whispered around that there were to be two weddings,
preparations were set afloat to make the double occasion a worthy one.
The largest tent was fitted up, and decorated with flowers, and several
musicians from the band were told to be on hand to play the wedding
march.

Estella wondered how affairs were going on at the mansion. Surely they
must know of her flight by this time. Had her father come back?--and,
if so, what did he think of her conduct.

"He will never forgive me--never," she thought, and a sharp pang shot
through her heart, for, in spite of all he had done, the beautiful girl
thought much of her stern parent.

Dinner was served, and the afternoon glided swiftly by. Walking about
the camp, Estella observed that many of the officers seemed worried.
They held several consultations, and in these Howard took an active
part.

"What is the trouble?" she asked, as she called him to her.

"The Spanish troops are intent upon some strategic movement," he
replied. "Our spies report that they are leaving Puerto Principe, but
it may be only a ruse to draw us on. We shall attempt no advance until
late to-night."

"And will you take me with you when you move?" she asked, anxiously.

"I thought to send you to a place of safety," he answered, tenderly. "A
battlefield is no place for a woman."

"Still, I would rather be there--at your side. Oh, I entreat you to
take me along!"

He could not resist, and so it was arranged that she should accompany
him. Arm-in-arm they strolled out into the balmy woods, where they were
perfectly safe from the enemy. His arm was about her slender waist, and
never were a couple happier than they, despite the clouds that hovered
over them.

"This war cannot last much longer," he said, "and once it is at an end,
we will try to make peace with your father. I am sure I can do this
when I am able to bring the rascally Lieutenant Mazenas into court, and
show how he and his confederates have swindled me out of my uncle's
estate."

"I trust so, Howard," she replied. "Yet, my father is very stern and
unrelenting. You will have no easy task."

"Let us hope for the best," he rejoined.

Then the subject was dropped, and he spoke only of love to her, spoke
in such a tender way that she felt he was indeed her heart's idol.

At last the setting sun told them they must return, to make their brief
preparations for the ceremony which was to join them together so long
as life should last. Alas! little did they dream of all the horrors in
store for both ere a haven of rest and peace should be found!

Howard was called away at the entrance to the large tent, and went
off, leaving Estella in the care of her maid. Cara had been arranging
her mistress' scanty things, and now she set to work to dress Estella
for the ceremony. In less than half an hour all was in readiness,
and Howard came back, in full rebel uniform, and accompanied by the
chaplain, the Rev. Mr. Ponesberry. They were followed by the native
band of half a dozen pieces, who stationed themselves at one side, and
awaited the signal to strike up the wedding march.

Orange blossoms were numerous, and not only did Estella have a wreath,
but the whole tent was decked with them, as well as with palms and
trailing vines.

A dozen lanterns were hung up, giving to the scene a really finished
and beautiful appearance.

"Are you ready, Estella?" whispered Howard, and at her nodded assent he
spoke to Tomasso, and immediately the others gathered around, and the
musicians played a well-known Spanish wedding march. Leaning upon her
lover's arm, Estella was led through the crowd, that opened to let them
pass, to the opposite end of the large tent, where, with bared head and
Bible in hand, the clergyman stood ready to receive them.

A short prayer was offered, and then the clergyman uttered those solemn
words, "If any one hath aught to say why these two should not be joined
together in holy wedlock, let him now come forward and speak, or
otherwise forever hold his tongue."

The last echo of the words had hardly died away when there was a sudden
stir.

"Surrender!" came in a well-known voice outside of the tent, and the
next instant General Corona appeared, sword in hand, and followed by
a body of Spanish soldiers. "Men, spare my daughter, but as for the
American spy, if he attempts to escape, shoot him on the spot!"

CHAPTER XXXIII.

"DO NOT ALLOW THAT VILE WRETCH TO CARRY OUT HIS BASE DESIGNS!"

So well had the old general planned his attack upon the rebel camp, so
silently had his orders been issued and obeyed, that nearly every one
was taken by surprise. There had been shouting outside, but very little
firing, and the noise had been drowned by the spirited playing of the
wedding march by the band, anxious to do its best.

As General Corona issued his command he rushed into the tent and up to
Estella's side. Pulling a pistol, he presented it at Howard's head.

"Do you surrender, you villain, or will you take the consequences?" he
rudely demanded.

"Father, do not shoot!" gasped Estella, and threw herself upon her
lover's breast, as if to shield him from her parent's wrath.

"Estella, leave that wretch--leave him at once!" roared the aroused
old man. "Oh, that my own flesh and blood should so disgrace me!"
he moaned. "Back, all of you!" he went on, to the crowd that surged
around. "Do what you will among yourselves, but if you respect the
feelings and rights of an old man and a soldier, you will leave this
hound to me! The quarrel is between him and me. If you have a spark of
manhood in your veins defend yourself!"

He threw his pistol aside, and with the point of his sword touched the
hilt of Howard's weapon. The movement was suggestive. The blood mounted
to the young war correspondent's face, and on the impulse of the moment
he drew his shining blade. There was a sharp clash, as the two blades
crossed each other, and those within the tent forgot their own quarrel
as they gazed upon the strange and thrilling tableau thus presented.

"Ha! you have something more than water in your veins, you cur!"
shouted the general. "Very well; I would rather fight a rascal with a
spark of courage than a mere dog!"

"Father!"

"Silence, Estella! Some day you will thank me for saving you from the
wiles of this villainous American. I know and understand his character
far better than you."

Click, crash, click! went the two flashing blades. The general made a
savage thrust, but Howard parried the attack; yet he did not attempt to
thrust in return.

"Oh, Howard! do not harm my father!" burst from Estella's lips.

Ere her lover could reply her father made another lunge. There was a
clash, and on the instant her father's blade went spinning from his
hand. Instantly Howard allowed his own sword to drop to his side.

"General Corona, let this teach you that I can defend myself with the
sword as well as defend myself in other matters," said the young war
correspondent, with a pale but determined face. "Arm yourself, again,
if you wish; but, out of respect for your daughter, I will fight with
you no more."

The general started back. His face turned red and his eyes dropped as a
soldier handed him his sword. Estella gave her lover a grateful look,
one that he long remembered. Then came a rush from outside, the tent
was thrown down, the lanterns were extinguished, and in an instant
Howard found himself in the midst of a body of Spanish soldiers, all
bent upon either killing him or making him a prisoner.

Although startled by the unexpected turn of affairs, the young war
correspondent kept his wits about him, and fought long and well to save
himself and a portion of his command, for his own soldiers were but a
short distance away.

At the first indication of a surprise, Captain Martinez had slipped
away, and now he was also doing heroic work in rallying the surprised
men. He was as brave and full of fire as Howard, and, between them they
soon brought the men out of the panic, and then the battle began in
earnest.

The darkness favored the rebels, otherwise they would have been quickly
decimated. But they knew the ground better than did their enemy, and
withdrew to strongholds in vales and woods, and inside of an hour
from the time the attack was commenced, the tide of the encounter
turned, and the Spanish troops were on the defensive. Then came the
reinforcements Captain Martinez had expected for an attack upon the
place, and the soldiers of Spain were put to flight.

It would be needless, in a tale like this, to relate the particulars of
what followed. How the fighting was carried on all night, and how, at
sunrise, the place itself was forced to surrender. The slaughter was
great, but the victory was complete, and once again the rebels made an
important advance in their victorious march westward.

Long before the place was under complete subjection Howard set out to
find Estella and her father. What had become of his sweetheart in that
awful moment, when the tent was torn down, he could not imagine, and
his heart was full of fears for her safety.

On his return to headquarters, after a search lasting several hours,
he chanced to pass by a long, low hospital tent, where that worthy
institution which flourishes all over the civilized world--the
Daughters of the Red Cross--were caring for the wounded and dying. He
heard his name called by one of the nurses, and in a moment more he
found himself in General Corona's presence. General Corona was wrapped
in bandages, and his face was as pale as death itself. That he had
suffered intensely was plainly evident.

"They tell me I am dying," were his low, hoarse words which startled
Howard. "I have been shot in three places. Where is my daughter?"

"I do not know, General Corona. I have not seen her since we parted in
the tent."

The old man's eyes looked at the young war correspondent keenly for a
moment.

"You are telling the truth, Señor Sherwood?"

"I swear it!"

The general drew a short breath, then gave a gasp.

"I--I believe you. You--you--are more of a man than I dreamed you were."

He was evidently referring to the duelling episode, and Howard did not
answer. There was a moment of painful silence.

"What do you suppose has become of my daughter?"

"I cannot imagine, sir. I sincerely trust she escaped injury, and is
safe. I imagined she was with you."

"She was; but when the tide of battle turned I left her in Lieutenant
Mazenas's charge."

"Mazenas!" Howard uttered a groan that did not escape the attention of
Estella's father. "Sir, you say I am more of a man than you supposed.
Why will you not believe me when I tell you that that fellow is one of
the greatest rascals unhung. I will prove my words, if you will but
give me a chance. Stop!" he went on, as General Corona was about to
speak. "I must tell you all, so that you will have the opportunity to
judge me fairly ere you die. Will you listen?"

"Go on," the general said, harshly, his lips quivering with agitation.

Drawing up a camp stool, Howard proceeded to tell his story from
beginning to end; how he had left New York with the double purpose of
serving the Press Association and of unearthing the fraud in connection
with his Uncle Robert's estate, and of all the many surprising things
that had happened since, including the story of the attempted poisoning
by Captain Nocolo and Lieutenant Mazenas, and of how the latter was
suspected of issuing a forged order to the rebel guerillas to burn the
Corona plantation.

General Corona listened with interest; several times he wished to
interrupt, but Howard made him listen to the very end.

He had about concluded, when there was a slight commotion, and four
soldiers passed, carrying a man on a stretcher.

"Nocolo," murmured General Corona. "Heaven has sent him here to testify
for or against you."

Howard leaped up, and saw that it was, in truth, Captain Nocolo, who
lay in a dying condition, shot through the lungs. He motioned the
soldiers to bring their burden to General Corona's side.

Nocolo scowled as he saw Howard, and the scowl deepened as he gazed at
the old general. Then suddenly a crafty look came into his face.

"You are badly hurt, Nocolo, I see," said the general, seeming to gain
temporary strength. "Señor Sherwood has been telling me strange stories
of yourself and Lieutenant Mazenas. Have you anything to say before
they take you away?"

The captain gasped for breath, then he scowled again. Evidently he
wanted to say something, but did not know how to begin. Finally he
burst out:

"Yes, I'll speak. They tell me I'll be dead by night, so I suppose
I had better free my mind. I don't love you, and I don't love this
American; but I have reason to hate Lieutenant Mazenas more deeply
than I detest both of you." He grated his teeth. "Dios! I, a captain,
to play second fiddle to him, a mere lieutenant! Corona, take my
advice, and don't let Mazenas marry your daughter. He is a swindler,
a liar--nay, a perjurer. It was he who issued the order to burn your
plantation and tried to lay the blame on Sherwood here."

"Ha! are you telling the truth!" burst from the veteran's lips, and he
half raised himself from his cot. "Don't stain your dying soul with a
lie."

"As Heaven hears me, I speak the truth. I do not love Sherwood, as I
said before; yet let me confess that he told the truth when he said
I and Mazenas were defrauding him out of his uncle's estate." Nocolo
turned to Howard. "Take the papers from my pocket; they will help you
to bring Mazenas to justice. Ha! ha! he must not escape! He must not
escape! Promise me you will hunt him down--promise!"

"I promise," responded Howard, readily, and as the words were uttered
the captain fainted.

The attendants rushed up, but could do little for him. Half an hour
later he was dead.

Captain Nocolo's confession, and a reading of the papers found upon his
person, produced a great change in General Corona. He asked for a drink
to stimulate him, and then called Howard closer.

"Señor Sherwood, I have deeply wronged you; I have also wronged my
daughter," he said, brokenly. "Would to Heaven I had had my eyes opened
before! But now, now----"

His voice broke, and he could not continue.

"It is not too late to make amends," said Howard. "I will procure the
best physician in the city to attend you, and I will begin the search
for Estella----"

"Yes! yes! save her! Dios!" The general gasped for breath in his
excitement. "You do not know all. I trusted Mazenas in everything.
He has possession of many of my private papers, and should I die he
will come into possession of all my property, and Estella will be left
a beggar, unless he forces her to marry him, and he has my written
permission to do even that! Sherwood--Howard--if you really love my
daughter, save her! Do not allow that vile wretch to carry out his base
designs!"

CHAPTER XXXIV.

"FORWARD, FOR CUBA AND FOR JUSTICE!"

When Howard Sherwood left General Corona's side he felt a strange
lightness at the heart. At last he had succeeded in placing himself in
a proper light before his sweetheart's father; henceforth the two would
be warm friends.

Yet there was no time now to think over this satisfactory turns of
affairs. The old man was seriously, if not fatally, wounded, while
Estella, the idol of both of their hearts, was in the power of that
exposed villain, Lieutenant Mazenas.

From the stern but now broken-spirited general the young war
correspondent obtained the particulars of where he had left his
daughter in the lieutenant's charge. Then he lost no time in sending
for the best physician in the captured city. This gentleman soon
arrived, and made an immediate examination of the sufferer.

"The wounds are very serious," he said. "Whether they will prove fatal
or not depends upon the man's constitution."

Tomasso had escaped, as had Cara, and both now set to work to nurse
their master, so he was assured of the best care during Howard's
absence.

It must not be supposed that the young captain neglected his duties
as a Cuban officer, or as a press representative. He brought his men
together and gave them instructions for the future, and also sent a
long letter to New York, by the way of Key West, the only port to be
reached at the time.

His work about the city at an end, Howard rode off alone for the spot
where Lieutenant Mazenas had taken charge of Estella, his object being
to look over the battlefield, now deserted and silent, in hope of
finding some trace of the movements of the pair. He was satisfied that
Mazenas had not been captured by the rebels, nor was he near Puerto
Principe with his fair charge.

"I will find him," murmured the young man, "even if I have to follow
him into the Spanish stronghold."

And he set his teeth sharp and examined his pistols and his sword.

The battleground reached, Howard presently fell in with an old negro
whose cabin was but a short distance away. The old fellow was bemoaning
the loss of several pigs and some tobacco, but Howard soon cheered him
by throwing him a piece of silver, and this induced the negro to talk
readily.

"You is a gen'man, sah," he said, as he took the money. "Moah of a
gen'man dan dat Spanish officer wot brung the lady to mah cabin las'
night."

At these words Howard pricked up his ears. He began to question the
negro closely, and soon reached the conclusion that it was Mazenas who
had taken shelter at the cabin with Estella.

"And where did the pair go?" he eagerly asked. "You must have heard
them talking."

"'Deed I did hear 'em talk, sah. De lady was mighty tearful like, an'
de man--he was a brute, if eber dere was one."

"What did he do--did he strike her?" demanded Howard. "Did he dare to
do that?"

"Well, he most a-struck her, sah. But she pulled a dagger, an' she said
she would stab him if he put his hand on her. He wanted her to go to a
place he called the Red Valley House. She wouldn't, nohow."

"And how did the scene end?"

"He called in help, an' de las' I see, two soldiers was a-carryin' her
off, an' de brute stalkin' along behind. Dey carried her to a wagon
over in de field, an' drove off like de debbil was after 'em!"

"The Red Valley House!" mused the young war correspondent. "Where is
that?"

"De Red Valley, sah, is about fifteen miles west ob de ribber. I
calkerlate the house am a werry old place dat was built by de Indians
years an' years ago. I sp'ect de Spanish soldiers am goin' ter use 't
fer a fort if de rebels push 'em too hard."

"Ah!"

Howard drew a long breath. He had heard of this old Indian structure
before. Captain Martinez had said the Spaniards might utilize it.

"It would be a daring thing to make an attack," he mused. "I wonder if
I can induce Martinez to join me in the movement?"

In hot haste he rode back to the city, and searched out the captain.
Martinez listened with interest to his story, but at the conclusion
shook his head.

"It would be foolhardy," he said. "We have suffered too great a loss
to make an immediate aggressive movement. Besides that, the local
sympathizers tell me that the old stone structure is a formidable
fortress. Wait a few days, and I'll see what can be done about an
attack."

"A few days!" cried Howard. "I can't wait a day--not an hour. You don't
realize the importance of the matter."

"Yes, I do--to you--but not to the cause of Cuban liberty," and
Martinez smiled good-naturedly, and Howard had to admit that from his
point of view Captain Martinez was right.

Yet he did not intend to give up. He called Tomasso to him, and sent
the faithful man out to drum up volunteers. General Corona heard of the
move, and offered a good round sum to every man who took part in the
attack, provided the place should be captured and his daughter saved.

The call was quickly responded to by over sixty men, all anxious to win
prize money, as they called it. They were trained soldiers, and in half
an hour Howard had them enrolled and drilled as a company, with himself
at their head, and Tomasso as his first lieutenant. Then, without so
much as the tap of a drum, they marched out of the city, crossed the
river and struck out on the route for Red Valley.

The day was warm and oppressive, as nearly all days are in Cuba, but
Howard paid no attention to this nor to the fact that the hard work
of the past few days had well-nigh exhausted him. His whole mind was
concentrated upon saving Estella, the pride and joy of his heart.

"I will rescue her or die in the attempt!" he said, not once, but many
times. "There must be no such word as fail!"

Three hours after crossing the river the outriders announced that they
had reached the border of Red Valley. The old stone fortress, if such
it might be called, was half a mile away.

"We will have to go slowly, capitan," said one of the men to Howard.
"The Spanish spies are out. I saw one just ahead."

"We will leave the road," returned Howard. "We can do better by
stealthily advancing through the woods. It is likely their vedettes
guard only the road."

His order was obeyed, and they proceeded for a quarter of a mile
further. Here two Spanish soldiers were encountered, but ere they could
give the alarm one was killed, and the other made a prisoner and gagged.

At noon Howard found himself approaching the edge of a cliff that
overlooked the fortress. His soldiers were behind him and he motioned
them to halt. Then he took a pair of field-glasses and surveyed the
situation.

That the Spanish troops had taken possession of the stone structure
there was not the slightest doubt. Sentinels stalked around the walls
and a camp-fire was burning brightly in the open square where the
soldiers' dinner was being prepared.

As the young war correspondent gazed upon the scene he allowed the
field-glasses to roam along the grated windows in the upper portion of
the fortress. As he looked keenly at one of the windows he started.
Beyond the grating he saw the pale, agonized face of Estella!

That she had suffered greatly was self-evident. He tried to obtain a
better view of her, but at that moment she disappeared. A second later
the well-known form of Lieutenant Mazenas took her place!

The thought that the scoundrelly Spaniard was keeping his sweetheart a
prisoner in that upper chamber of the fortress maddened Howard beyond
all endurance. He dropped his field-glasses and sprang back to his men.

"Forward!" he shouted. "And remember, give no quarter to Lieutenant
Mazenas! He must not escape, nor must Estella Corona be harmed.
Forward! for Cuba and for justice!"

"Cuba libre! Cuba libre!" was the cry of the men and then they swept
down the cliff in a solid body and charged upon the gates below!

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE HAPPY WEDDING DAY.

We will now return to that fateful night when Estella at the very
moment she had thought to become Howard's bride had been torn from her
lover's side by her father and passed over to the care of the wicked
Mazenas.

To her the terrible interruption came so quickly that she scarcely
realized what was occurring. She remembered trying to shield Howard
from her father's wrath, the rapid reports of firearms and confusion in
the darkness afterward, but that was all. When she came to her senses
she was in a negro's hut, and Mazenas was giving directions to an
orderly concerning a wagon that was to take her away. It was then that
Mazenas threatened to strike her if she did not remain quiet, and she
drew her dagger to defend herself.

The orderly helped the lieutenant to disarm her, and it was not long
before they were on the road in the wagon. A large flat boat conveyed
the vehicle over the river, and long ere day broke Estella found
herself a prisoner in the then utterly deserted stone structure.

"Your father told me to take good care of you and I will," smiled
Lieutenant Mazenas, meaningly. "So you were about to marry that
American! I'll put a stop to that for good and without delay."

"Perhaps not," she faintly returned.

"But I will. Do you know that I have your father's written permission
to compel you to marry me?" he went on.

She started, then quickly recovered.

"No man can compel me to marry him."

"We shall see. If you will not consent I will force you to marry me."

"Never!"

"Bah! Estella, you do not know me. We are alone here, and you are in
my absolute power. For your reputation's sake, you should consent to
become my bride."

She turned as white as a ghost at his words, so full of bitter meaning.
She had been standing in the centre of the apartment, but now she
fairly staggered to a seat.

"You--you monster!" she murmured.

"I am no monster, Estella, only a desperate man; one who has sworn to
make you his own, by fair means or foul. You can take your choice. But
mine you shall be--I have sworn it! In twenty-four hours, willing or
unwilling, you shall be my bride! Now I must leave you, but I warn you
to think well over what I have said."

Then he left her, and she sat there, dazed, stupefied, as one who has
listened to a death sentence. He would doom her to a living death!

"Merciful Heaven, protect me!" she moaned. "Oh, why was I not killed in
that dreadful battle that separated me from Howard?"

She had heard a report that Howard had been slain, and she was more
than half inclined to believe it. She had seen him surrounded by his
enemies, and escape seemed impossible.

"Father would have killed him by the sword! Oh, papa, papa, if you
but knew! If you could feel what is in your only child's heart at this
moment, you would not be so cruel!"

Presently she heard a noise below, and looking out of the barred window
she saw that several bodies of Spanish troops were arriving--some on
foot and others on horseback. The fortress began to fill up, and she
heard loud voices, songs and blasphemous utterances, the soldiers
venting their feelings as pleased them.

After a while the sounds below ceased, and from the next room she heard
the murmur of earnest voices. She recognized the tones of Lieutenant
Mazenas, and crept to the closed door between the apartments, that she
might hear what was being said.

"It was a bold stroke, Mazenas," she heard, in a resonant voice. "As a
lawyer, I never heard of anything more brilliant or daring."

"Oh, I have a good head on my shoulders, Barker," was the reply of
the conceited Spanish officer. "I saw that I must do something, and I
did it. But it was a master stroke to induce old Corona to place his
property in my care, and subject to my control."

"It was, indeed, a master stroke," replied Samuel Barker. "But that
wasn't half as brilliant as to hire two Spanish guerillas to follow
Nocolo and the old general, and strike them down when they least
expected it. Now you say both are dead, and their fate will be
considered due to the chances of war."

As she listened Estella's blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Her
father dead, too! She was alone in the world! A low moan escaped her
lips, and she sank down upon her knees. Oh, what a fearful monster
this being in the next room was! Her husband! Never! She would die a
hundred deaths ere that should occur.

"So you see this leaves the game entirely in our hands," said
Lieutenant Mazenas to the lawyer. "Now the question is, how are we to
divide when we come to settle up?"

"Half and half would be fair, Mazenas," was the cool answer.

"Half and half! Do you think I am an idiot, Barker, to do all the work,
and then share evenly?" burst out the lieutenant, angrily. "I will
allow you your original share of the Sherwood estate, and that is all."

"I won't accept."

"No?"

"I'll force you to give me half," returned Samuel Barker, stubbornly.

A cry of rage followed. Then Estella heard the overturning of a bench,
and the fall of a heavy body to the floor.

"Let--let me up!" she heard Barker gasp. "Don't--don't! Would you
murder me, Mazenas?"

"You have brought it on yourself!" hissed the lieutenant. "I've gotten
rid of the others; now I intend to get rid of you!"

Again came the sounds of a struggle, then a cry for help. Estella
essayed to scream out, but her voice failed her. In another moment she
knew it was all over. There was a gasp, and a gurgle, and Lieutenant
Mazenas leaped to his feet.

"He's out of the way," he muttered. "I wonder where I can place the
body? But, pshaw! no one here knows him! I'll let him lie where he is,
and throw a mass of straw over him." He paused for a moment. "I wonder
if she heard anything? I had better go in and see."

He threw a quantity of straw over the dead body, and then walked out
into the gloomy corridor. He was just about to enter Estella's room
when a soldier came for him.

"You are wanted below, lieutenant," he said, saluting--"wanted without
delay by Captain Guito."

"Very well," he replied; and for the time being his second visit to
Estella was deferred.

The horrible deed in the adjoining apartment had been too much for
Estella's nerves, and when satisfied that Lieutenant Mazenas had really
murdered his companion in cold blood, her senses forsook her, and she
did not recover consciousness until several hours later.

In the meantime all was bustle and activity below. Over two hundred
Spanish soldiers were on hand, and they speedily put the old stone
structure in condition for use should an attack by the rebels occur.
The defeat of the day before had frightened them, and they had become
extremely cautious.

Among the number was a man who, in years gone by had been a clergyman
in Madrid but had been suspended from the church for gambling. With
this fellow Lieutenant Mazenas had struck up a close friendship and the
religious outcast readily agreed to perform any ceremony the Spanish
villain might desire. He would ask no foolish questions he said and
assured Mazenas that all would go well.

The military operations about the old house having been completed
Lieutenant Mazenas again sought Estella's room. He found her lying upon
a bench her cheeks wet with tears.

"Tears are useless," he grumbled. "Do be a reasonable girl, Estella."

"Back! back!" she cried. "Don't touch me--murderer! I heard all that
occurred in the next room! And so you also instigated the death of my
poor father! Oh, you treacherous wretch! How I wish I had you in my
power for but one minute. I would show you how a Cuban girl can avenge
her wrongs!"

He laughed sardonically.

"Since you have heard what occurred in the next room you must realize
that I am not a man to be trifled with. Oh, you need not look out of
the window for help--there is none at hand."

He walked to the window and she turned away. Oh, if she had but known
that Howard had in that moment espied her, and was now on his way to
rescue her!

"I have a clergyman here," he went on. "He says he will marry us
at once. Now you can take the choice I gave you. Which shall it
be--marriage or dishonor?"

A cry straight from her soul burst from her bloodless lips. Leaping
forward she caught his pistol from his belt.

"I prefer--death!" she cried, and placed the weapon to her forehead.

But at that critical moment loud exclamations came to her
ears--exclamations that thrilled her to the heart and made her lower
the weapon, while the man before her turned pale with fear.

"Cuba libre! Cuba libre!"

And then came the voice of Howard at the very gate to the old stone
house, urging the men on. With a crash the gates went down, and there
followed revolver shots and sword strokes, groans, appeals for mercy,
and shouts of triumph.

"The rebels!" uttered Lieutenant Mazenas, and hurried to the door.

"Stop!" The command came from Estella. "Stand where you are, Lieutenant
Mazenas. You shall not go below to lead your men."

The pistol was pointed at his heart. He looked into her face, and saw
there no mercy--only stern, unrelenting justice. He fairly cowered
before her.

"Unlock the door," she went on. "But do not dare to take one step
beyond it."

With a muttered oath, he did as bidden. Then, of a sudden, he caught up
the bench, and, using it as a shield, rushed at her.

"I will yet tame you!" he hissed. "You shall see----"

"What will she see?" demanded a cold voice from the doorway.

Hastily turning, Lieutenant Mazenas found himself confronted by Howard,
with drawn sword.

"Howard!"

"Estella, my darling! Thank God, I have found you at last!"

"Caramba," muttered the lieutenant.

Then he drew his own weapon and made a lunge at the young war
correspondent.

The sparks flew thick and fast from the two blades as the two deadly
enemies circled around the apartment. It was a duel to the death, it
was easy to see that.

Twice did Howard have his opponent at a disadvantage, and each time
was the lieutenant badly wounded. But, like a dying bull in the
ring, he still kept on, cursing to himself and growing more wild and
bloodthirsty each instant.

Then, like a flash, Howard accidentally slipped, and fell upon one
knee. In an instant the lieutenant's sword was at the young war
correspondent's throat.

"I have you! Die, you American dog!"

The thrust was made, but it never reached its mark. Estella aimed the
pistol and fired a fatal shot, and with a groan, Mazenas rolled over,
and just as a body of the victorious rebels surged into the room, he
breathed his last.

* * * * *

A few words more and we will bring our story to a close.

With the death of Mazenas, Howard Sherwood found himself free of the
last of his enemies. With Estella safe in his charge, he returned to
the city, where the happy girl was welcomed with open arms by her
stricken father, whom, however, the attending physicians now pronounced
out of danger. General Corona had learned a bitter lesson, but he took
that lesson like a man, and in his future actions did all in his power
to atone for the misery he had caused his only child and her noble
lover.

After taking the old stone house, the main body of the insurgent
army moved onward. Not caring to leave Estella unprotected, and with
her sick father to care for, Howard resigned the position he had so
gallantly filled, and remained with the father and daughter. They
returned to the old stone mansion owned by General Corona, and it was
decided that they would remain until the residence on the plantation
could be rebuilt.

The kind treatment received by the old general at the rebel hospital,
and the discovery that the insurgents had not intended to fire his
cane-fields, produced a change of heart in the old man, and in less
than a week after he was out of danger he was talking as vigorously for
Cuban liberty as he had previously argued against it.

"It must come," he said. "It may not come with this war, but it is
bound to come some time, so I may as well be on the right side first as
last. Cuba libre!"

On his return to Santiago Howard hunted up Thomas Herringford and
placed his suit against Nocolo, Mazenas & Co., in charge of the old
lawyer for settlement. This, with all the evidence at hand, was an easy
matter, and six weeks later the young war correspondent resigned his
position with the press association, to take charge of an estate valued
at several hundred thousand dollars.

Closely following this important event came one of still greater
importance. This was Howard's marriage to Estella, now always called,
even by her stern old parent, the little Cuban rebel.

Never was a more magnificent marriage seen in that vicinity. The house
was a mass of flowers from first floor to dome; a splendid orchestra
furnished delicious music, and hundreds of guests were there, from
the highest public officials to the humble but ever-faithful Cara and
Tomasso, who had been man and wife for nearly two months.

The beautiful bride was attired in the finest of white satin and never
did she look more entrancing, nor did Howard ever look more manly and
handsome as when he came to claim her from her father. It was the
crowning moment of their young lives.

"The clouds for us have all dispersed, Estella, my darling," he
exclaimed, when it was all over, and they were alone. "You are mine,
all mine now, in very truth!"

"Yes, Howard," she whispered, as she hid her head upon his bosom. "I am
all yours, and I ask no more--my lover, my husband, my king!"

[THE END.]

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