In 1834 Don Miguel Tacon, one of the most vigorous and tyrannical of the
governor-generals of Cuba, took control of the island, which he ruled with
a stern will and an iron hand. One of the purposes in which he was most
earnest was that of suppressing the active smuggling on the coast, all the
naval vessels under his command being ordered to patrol the coast night
and day, and to have no mercy on these lawless worthies. As it proved, all
his efforts were of no avail, the smugglers continuing to ply their trade
in spite of Tacon and his agents.
The despoilers of the revenue were too daring and adroit, and too familiar
with the shoals and rocks of the coast waters, to be readily caught, and
the lack of pilots familiar with this difficult navigation prevented any
close approach to their haunts. In this dilemma Tacon tried the expedient
of offering a large and tempting reward to any one who would desert the
fraternity and agree to pilot the government vessels through the perilous
channels which they frequented. Double this reward, an almost princely
prize, was offered for the person of one Marti, dead or alive.
Tacon had good reason to offer a special reward for the arrest of Marti,
who was looked upon as the leader and chief offender of the smugglers. A
daring and reckless man, notorious as a smuggler and half pirate, his name
was as well known in Cuba as that of the governor-general himself. The
admirers of his daring exploits grew to know him as the King of the Isle
of Pines, this island being his principal rendezvous, from which he sent
his fleet of small, swift vessels to ply their trade on the neighboring
coast. As for Tacon's rewards, they were long as ineffective as his
revenue cutters and gunboats, and the government officials fell at length
into a state of despair as to how they should deal with the nefarious and
defiant band.
One dark, dull night, several months after the placards offering these
rewards had been posted in conspicuous places in Havana and elsewhere, two
sentinels were pacing as usual before the governor's palace, which stood
opposite the grand plaza of the capital city. Shortly before midnight a
cloaked individual stealthily approached and slipped behind the statue of
the Spanish king near the fountain in the plaza. From this lurking-place
he watched the movements of the sentinels, as they walked until they met
face to face, and then turned back to back for their brief walk in the
opposite direction.
It was a delicate movement to slip between the soldiers during the short
interval when their eyes were turned from the entrance, but the stranger
at length adroitly effected it, darting lightly and silently across the
short space and hiding himself behind one of the pillars of the palace
before they turned again. During their next turn he entered the palace,
now safe from their espionage, and sought the broad flight of stairs which
led to the governor's rooms with the confidence of one thoroughly familiar
with the place.
[Illustration: THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL'S PALACE, HAVANA.]