CHAPTER XXVIII.

"BACK! THAT I MAY STRIKE HIM DEAD WHERE HE STANDS!"

It was certainly a thrilling situation in which beautiful Estella and her brave lover now found themselves. Surrounded on every side by leaping flames, coming closer and closer, with incredible swiftness, it looked indeed as if they were doomed.

"Oh, Heaven have mercy upon us!" moaned the fair girl, as the hot ashes from the burning cane were thrown in their faces. "Howard, we must die!"

"Die! Never!" he responded as he clasped her in his arms and passionately kissed her tear-stained cheeks. "Never while I have one breath left with which to fight for life! Down, Estella! quick!"

He forced her to drop on her knees in one of the shallow pools close at hand and with his hands saturated her dress. Then taking off his coat, he wet that and placed it about her head and shoulders.

"Oh, Howard, don't! You will suffer yourself!" she cried, in sweet protest, but he would not listen.

Having wet her garments, he proceeded to drench himself, and hastily raised her up again.

By this time the fire was so close that the roaring and crackling rang loudly in their ears, occasionally augmented by sounds similar to the firing of a musket as an air-tight stalk would become heated and explode. The ashes fairly covered them, and had their garments not been wet, they would have been burned.

Looking about to discover the direction in which the flames appeared to be the thinnest, Howard ran with his fair burden to the south, opposite to the direction from which the wind was coming. He chose a hollow in the sugar-cane field, in which the recent rain had left several inches of water, and this brought them to within fifty feet of the outskirts of the burning territory.

But now the hollow came to an end, and before them the fire burned almost as fiercely as anywhere. Estella gave one look at the horrible scene and buried her pale face in his bosom.

"Howard, we cannot, cannot go through that!" she moaned.

"We must! It means life to us, for there is naught but death awaiting us here," he responded. "Take a deep breath, and hold it as long as you can, my darling."

She did as he commanded, and he did the same. Then, with a silent prayer to Heaven, he made a dash straight into the fire.

The flames roared all about him and his precious burden; they licked his lower limbs and caused the soles of his boots to burn; they came even higher and scarred his neck and burned his mustache and eyelashes. Yet he stumbled on, turning and twisting to avoid the larger masses of fire, knocking the live embers from Estella's dress, and catching his breath as best he could.

He was about to sink down, utterly exhausted, when he saw a clear opening at last and sprang through it, and they were saved.

"Caramba!" shouted a voice close beside them, but Howard did not hear it.

He staggered to a grassy knoll, dropped his fair burden and sank down insensible.

When Estella managed to stand up and uncover her head she found herself surrounded by a dozen or more Cuban rebels, each with a lighted torch in his hand. The men were armed with nothing but machetes, and they looked at her and Howard in wonder.

"What do you in the sugar cane?" finally asked a big fellow, who appeared to be the leader of the crowd.

Estella did not immediately answer. She turned her attention to Howard, who lay on his back, panting for breath. He was not seriously hurt, and soon managed to sit up and open his eyes.

"Estella--you are safe?" he murmured.

"Thank Heaven for that!"

"You brave, brave man!" she whispered. "You are more than a hero, my king!"

"Who is that man?" demanded the Cuban who had spoken to her, and his hand sought the handle of his big knife.

"Cuba!" murmured Howard, and the rebel at once smiled.

"And the lady?"

"I am Estella Corona," replied the beautiful girl, proudly. "This field belongs to my father."

"Ha! General Corona's daughter! Then he tells a lie!" The rebel pointed to Howard. "He is for Spain!"

He drew his machete and rushed at the young war correspondent as if to stab him to the heart, but Estella leaped between.

"He tells the truth, señor!" she cried. "He has just escaped from the prison at Marambo."

"And you?"

"I was also in the prison."

"You--a Corona! Do not deceive me, señora."

"It is true. I am a Corona, but I believe in the liberty of Cuba."

"Good! But your father, the old general? I knew him years ago."

"I cannot speak for him," replied Estella, evasively.

"He defied us!" burst out another of the rebels. "He said he would pay tax only to Spain. Had it been otherwise we should not have touched his plantation."

"What of the house?" demanded Howard, struggling to his feet.

"Look for yourself, señor."

At that moment a bugle call sounded, and without waiting for more words, the detachment of rebels hurried away. A moment after came the rattle of musketry and the shouts of the wounded and dying.

"The Spanish troops have arrived!" exclaimed Estella. "See! they are coming along the main road, several hundred strong."

"They are too late to do much good here," was Howard's comment. "See! the fire is everywhere! No doubt the house and stables are already a mass of ruins. The loss will fall heavily on your father."

"And make him more bitter than ever toward the rebels," said the fair girl, dismally. Then of a sudden she started back. "Look! look! Howard."

She pointed through an opening back of them, where the Spanish soldiers could be seen, some on foot and others on horseback.

"What do you see?"

"My father! He is leading the attack upon the rebels!"

Estella was right; there, at the head of the Spanish column, rode General Corona, waving his sword and shouting out orders as in his younger military days.

"He will be killed!" gasped Estella, as she saw her father surrounded.

But in another moment the old general had shaken off the rebels who clustered around him. Then the tide of battle appeared to change, and in another instant Howard and Estella found themselves in the very midst of the fray.

Luckily, Howard still had his sword with him, and he struck out right and left, thus clearing a circle about them. Estella was in great danger of being trampled under foot, but he saved her, in spite of the fury and tumult of the conflict.

"Estella!"

It was a cry from General Corona. He dashed up to his daughter's side just as Howard had thrown back a Spanish cavalryman who was about to overrun her.

"Father!"

"You are safe!" murmured the father. "And the accursed rebels have fired everything--the house, the barns, the store-houses, all the fields. Ha! who is that? The American spy!"

He made a wild dash toward Howard, who was taken somewhat aback by surprise. In another moment the general would have struck down his daughter's lover with his sword, but Estella interfered.

"Father, father, don't! You do not know! He saved my life!"

"And this is his work!" shouted General Corona, savagely. "He hired the rebels to attack the place that I might be humbled! Lieutenant Mazenas exposed the plot to me. Back! that I may strike him dead where he stands!"

In a frenzy of passion the general urged his horse forward, and, being at a disadvantage, Howard was forced to retreat. Then came a rush from the rebel forces, and in a few moments Estella, her father, and the young war correspondent were separated.

Surrounded by Spanish soldiers, the rebels fought desperately, and Howard was compelled to fight with them, for it was taken for granted that all Americans in battle were foes of the Spanish Government. He had no time to look for his sweetheart; it was cut and thrust upon every side. Soon he and the rebels around him were driven a good half mile back from the spot. Then the tide of battle turned once more; the Cubans were reinforced, and the Spanish troops were put in full retreat in the direction of Bayamo.

The fighting at an end, Howard began a search for Estella that lasted until dark. It was utterly useless; she could not be found.

Hungry, tired and footsore, he limped to the insurgents' camp, to take some much-needed rest.