The little Cuban rebel
Date: 2025-05-05T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Cuba -- Fiction

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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

OR

A War Correspondent's Sweetheart

By Edna Winfield

NEW YORK AND LONDON

STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1896 and 1898,
By STREET & SMITH

CONTENTS

I. | THE YOUNG WAR CORRESPONDENT AND THE FAIR STRANGER--AN ACCIDENT INTRODUCES THE LITTLE CUBAN REBEL.
II. | "WITH THE SWEET MUST COME THE BITTER--AND, OH! SO BITTER AT TIMES!"
III. | "ARREST THAT MAN; HE IS AN AMERICAN SPY! AND HOLD THE WOMAN."
IV. | "OH, WAS EVER THERE A GIRL SO WRETCHED AS I?"
V. | THE YOUNG WAR CORRESPONDENT'S ESCAPE--THE LAWYER'S STATEMENT--DOGGED BY A SPY.
VI. | "LOOK INTO MY EYES, AND SAY YOU WILL SOME DAY BE MY OWN TRUE WIFE."
VII. | "ASSIST ME TO GET RID OF THEM, AND I WILL REWARD YOU WELL!"
VIII. | ESTELLA'S APPEAL.
IX. | "ESTELLA, MY QUEEN, HENCEFORTH NOTHING SHALL SEPARATE US!"
X. | "OH, FATHER IN HEAVEN, PROTECT THY CHILD, WHO IS NOW LEFT UTTERLY ALONE!"
XI. | "BACK! IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE!"
XII. | "WILL YOU WED ME, OR SHALL HOWARD SHERWOOD GO TO HIS DEATH?"
XIII. | "YOU HAVE SIGNED HIS DEATH-WARRANT! HE SHALL DIE WITHIN THE HOUR!"
XIV. | A DASH FOR LIBERTY.
XV. | THEY HAVE SET A PACK OF BLOODHOUNDS ON OUR TRAIL.
XVI. | AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.
XVII. | "YOU LITTLE TARTAR, I WILL YET TAME YOU!"
XVIII. | "LEAVE THIS HOUSE, AND NEVER LET ME SEE YOU AGAIN UNTIL YOU ARE READY TO OBEY ME!"
XIX. | I NEVER FANCIED THAT A DAUGHTER OF MINE WOULD BE SO DISLOYAL.
XX. | THE THREE SCHEMERS.
XXI. | ESTELLA IS INTRUSTED WITH AN IMPORTANT MISSION.
XXII. | "THE PLOT WILL MISCARRY! THE CUBAN SOLDIERS WILL BE BUTCHERED LIKE CATTLE!"
XXIII. | CONDEMNED TO DIE!--TOMASSO'S WORDS--A GALLANT RESOLVE.
XXIV. | THE LAST MOMENT--"TAKE AIM! FIRE!"
XXV. | "SAVE ME, HOWARD! PROTECT ME FROM THIS HUMAN BRUTE!"
XXVI. | "DEFEND YOURSELF OR I WILL STRIKE YOU DEAD WHERE YOU STAND."
XXVII. | THE DUEL--HEMMED IN BY FLAMES.
XXVIII. | "BACK! THAT I MAY STRIKE HIM DEAD WHERE HE STANDS!"
XXIX. | "IF EVER I MARRY, MY HUSBAND WILL BE A MAN OF HONOR; NOT A LOW TRICKSTER."
XXX. | ESTELLA'S PRAYER.
XXXI. | A PERILOUS ESCAPE--A GOOD SHOT.
XXXII. | A STARTLING INTERRUPTION.
XXXIII. | "DO NOT ALLOW THAT VILE WRETCH TO CARRY OUT HIS BASE DESIGNS!"
XXXIV. | "FORWARD, FOR CUBA AND FOR JUSTICE!"
XXXV. | THE HAPPY WEDDING DAY.

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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Table of Contents

The Little Cuban Rebel
CONTENTS
THE LITTLE CUBAN REBEL.

CHAPTER I.

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

CHAPTER II.

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

CHAPTER III.

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

CHAPTER IV.

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

CHAPTER V.

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

CHAPTER VI.

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

CHAPTER VII.

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

CHAPTER VIII.

- ESTELLA'S APPEAL.

CHAPTER IX.

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

CHAPTER X.

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

CHAPTER XI.

- "BACK! IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE!"

CHAPTER XII.

- "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!"

CHAPTER XIV.

- A DASH FOR LIBERTY.

CHAPTER XV.

- THEY HAVE SET A PACK OF BLOODHOUNDS ON OUR TRAIL.

CHAPTER XVI.

- AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.

CHAPTER XVII.

- "YOU LITTLE TARTAR, I WILL YET TAME YOU!"

CHAPTER XVIII.

- "LEAVE THIS HOUSE, AND NEVER LET ME SEE YOU AGAIN UNTIL YOU ARE READY TO OBEY ME!"

CHAPTER XIX.

- I NEVER FANCIED THAT A DAUGHTER OF MINE WOULD BE SO DISLOYAL.

CHAPTER XX.

- THE THREE SCHEMERS.

CHAPTER XXI.

- ESTELLA IS INTRUSTED WITH AN IMPORTANT MISSION.

CHAPTER XXII.

- "THE PLOT WILL MISCARRY! THE CUBAN SOLDIERS WILL BE BUTCHERED LIKE CATTLE!"

CHAPTER XXIII.

- CONDEMNED TO DIE!—TOMASSO'S WORDS—A GALLANT RESOLVE.

CHAPTER XXIV.

- THE LAST MOMENT—"TAKE AIM! FIRE!"

CHAPTER XXV.

- "SAVE ME, HOWARD! PROTECT ME FROM THIS HUMAN BRUTE!"

CHAPTER XXVI.

- "DEFEND YOURSELF OR I WILL STRIKE YOU DEAD WHERE YOU STAND."

CHAPTER XXVII.

- THE DUEL—HEMMED IN BY FLAMES.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

- "BACK! THAT I MAY STRIKE HIM DEAD WHERE HE STANDS!"

CHAPTER XXIX.

- "IF EVER I MARRY, MY HUSBAND WILL BE A MAN OF HONOR; NOT A LOW TRICKSTER."

CHAPTER XXX.

- ESTELLA'S PRAYER.

CHAPTER XXXI.

- A PERILOUS ESCAPE—A GOOD SHOT.

CHAPTER XXXII.

- A STARTLING INTERRUPTION.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

- "DO NOT ALLOW THAT VILE WRETCH TO CARRY OUT HIS BASE DESIGNS!"

CHAPTER XXXIV.

- "FORWARD, FOR CUBA AND FOR JUSTICE!"

CHAPTER XXXV.

- THE HAPPY WEDDING DAY.

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