"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?"