"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.