skilful fisherman and I talk to my hook, but O'Reilly sits dreaming
about somebody while the little crabs eat all his bait." When this
evoked no notice the boy shrugged in disgust and went on around the
house, muttering: "Caramba! You'd think they'd get sick of so much
billing and cooing. But no! I have to steal him away and take him
swimming or fishing if I want a word alone with him. And the others are
just as bad--another pair of pigeons. It's like living in a dove-cote."
Rosa, too, had vastly changed. She was clad in a charming little muslin
dress, there were dimples in her cheeks, she wore a heavy Mardchal Neil
bud at her breast. O'Reilly held her off and devoured her with his eyes.
"Sweetheart, you grow fresher and more beautiful every hour," said he.
Rosa danced upon her toes, and tugged at him. "But come quickly and see
the surprise we have. I've been wild for your return, so hurry." She
led him swiftly up the steps, and there, standing beside a chair, was
Esteban Varona. "He dressed himself and walked out here alone. HE'S
WELL!"
"Esteban! Really--"
The brother nodded decisively. "It's true. I rebelled at last.
To-morrow I'll walk to the gate and the next day we'll go fishing."
"Jove! How splendid!"
"Why, I'm as firm on my feet as a rock."
Norine emerged through one of the French windows and explained: "He
took advantage of me while I was gone for the mail, and now he's quite
out of control. Here's a letter from Leslie, by the way. He's home and
has a position and hopes we'll follow soon. There's one bit of news; he
says the talk of intervention increases and he may have to return to
Cuba as a war correspondent. Fancy! He's deathly frightened at the
prospect."
"Intervention! That would be fine," Esteban cried. O'Reilly nodded.
"Oh, it's bound to come, and when Uncle Sam takes hold Cuba will be
free."
Norine agreed: "I'm sure of it. And then--we'll all go back to our
rainbow's end and dig for that pot of gold."
Esteban turned adoring eyes upon the speaker; he took her hand in his.
"I've found my rainbow's end," said he.
"And I've found mine," O'Reilly asserted. "I've gained your father's
treasure, and more--I've found the prize of all the Indies." With his
arm about Rosa he drew her into the house.
Esteban lowered himself into his chair and Norine rested herself upon
its arm. He lay back with eyes closed. From the regions at the rear
came the voice of Jacket. The boy was in a declamatory mood. He had
gathered an audience, as was his daily custom, and was addressing them
in English:
"I skilled more'n a dozen Spaniards at Pino Bravo. It was my day. By
rights I should have been made a general, but--"
THE END