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.