CHAPTER III.

"ARREST THAT MAN; HE IS AN AMERICAN SPY! AND HOLD THE WOMAN."

On the following morning Howard appeared on deck at an early hour, in the hope that Estella would be there. But she was not in sight, nor did she appear at the breakfast-table, although Captain Barbados was there, in company with Philippe, a fellow worker in the cause of Spanish rule in Cuba.

The two Spaniards kept their distance, Barbados merely recognizing Howard by a stiff nod, which was returned with equal severity. Howard had not yet forgotten the insult offered to him, nor was he likely to forget it for a long time to come.

All that day Estella kept to her state-room, and when Howard sent her some fruit, with a kind message, she returned a verbal answer to the effect that she was not feeling well, and never did on the water. As many of the passengers showed signs of seasickness, Howard accepted the plea without question, and merely mourned the loss of her sweet companionship.

But down in her narrow berth the beautiful Spanish girl was suffering far more mentally than physically. Her hot and flushed face was wet with bitter tears, and as she read and re-read a number of letters in her possession, her tears did not cease.

"Oh, papa, if you only knew how much I despise the lieutenant, you would not ask me to marry him!" she moaned, in her native tongue. "I do not love him--I never can love him!" She read a portion of one of the letters again. "And you say it was mother's dying wish, also, that I should be married into the Mazenas family! Oh, mother, mother, little did you know what you were asking at the hands of your only child! Little did you know! My heart will break! My heart will break!"

And dashing the letters to the floor she burst forth once more into a torrent of passionate weeping.

It was not until the following day, when they were off Cape Hatteras, that Howard saw her again. Her face was then so pale and her eyes so sunken that he could not repress an exclamation of alarm.

"You have indeed suffered!" he cried. "You should have gone as far as possible by land. This voyage round the cape will be something terrible for you!"

"I am feeling better now, and I doubt if I have another attack," she replied, with a faint smile. She was glad he attributed the change in her to seasickness. "What a beautiful autumn day it is!"

"Are you anxious to get home?" he asked, as he conducted her to her chair and drew up his own.

"No--yes--that is, I shall be glad to see papa again--and Cara, my faithful maid. But otherwise----"

"You would rather remain in the United States?"

"Much rather. I like the people and their ways. You see," she added, by way of explanation, "I have American blood in me on my mother's side. And papa used to like Americans--before this war broke out, and they began to side with the rebels--and that's how I came to be sent to Vassar to be educated."

"I trust we shall see much of each other while in Cuba, Estella," he whispered. "I cannot bear to think of losing you now that we have once met."

She smiled, and then the lines of deep thought marked her brow.

"Perhaps you won't say that when you see the surroundings, and our people."

"A pearl is a pearl still, no matter where it falls," he rejoined, trying his best to look into her deep eyes, and not failing altogether. He would have said much more, but Captain Barbados, who had been watching them, strolled up with his friend Philippe, and spoiled the tete-a-tete.

The days passed all too quickly for Howard Sherwood after this. Time and again he strove to lead Estella to a retired spot, where he might talk to her in private, might tell her something of the passion which had been born in his heart, but the watchful eyes of Captain Barbados or Philippe were always on them, and he found it impossible.

"They think me a spy, and are determined to watch me as a cat watches a mouse," thought Howard, bitterly. "Hang the luck, any way! I would like to pitch them both overboard!"

It was not many days before the Columbian came in sight of the Pointe de Maysi. The run thence down the Windward Passage was quickly made, and a couple of hours later the steamer dropped anchor in the harbor of Santiago.

Howard had looked around in vain for Estella, to have a little conversation with her before going ashore, and was now leaning over the rail, taking in as much of the city as was in sight from the deck.

The custom-house officers and inspectors had already come aboard, with a view to searching the passengers. One of them, an over-important appearing individual, was called aside by Captain Barbados. Estella, coming on deck at that instant, saw the movement and instinctively feeling that something was wrong, came up behind the pair, screened from view by a corner of the cabin.

"What is it, captain?" growled the government inspector. "I haven't any time to spare--there are so many passengers to be examined."

"Do you see that man?" replied Barbados, pointing to Howard. "He is a spy!"

"Ah!" The inspector's eyes began to glisten. "You are sure?" he questioned, eagerly.

"He claims to be a newspaper correspondent, but you know what that means. Search him well."

"I will."

"And remember, it was Captain Barbados who gave the information," concluded the Spanish officer, as he turned away.

Estella listened to the conversation with a wildly beating heart. What if Howard Sherwood should have something contraband about his person--pistols, knives, or perhaps dispatches for the insurgents? On the word of Captain Barbados he would be immediately dragged off to a dungeon in one of the forts.

She ran around the cabin, so as to avoid the captain and the inspector, and came up to where Howard was standing. He smiled as he tipped his hat, but ere he could speak she whispered into his ear:

"The inspectors think you are a spy! If you have any contraband articles about you, hide them! hide them quickly!"

"Why--what--" he stammered; then, as a sharp-eyed stranger came close to them, he suddenly changed the subject. "Yes, rather a pretty harbor," he remarked aloud.

Her words had set him to thinking rapidly. In his pocket was a letter of introduction to General Gomez, of the Cuban army, also a letter to another commander of the insurgents. Over his arm he carried a light overcoat with a rolling collar, and this held a deftly concealed 32-calibre pistol, with fifty rounds of ammunition. He had been advised to take the pistol along, it being a well-known fact that to buy arms of any kind in Cuba at the time was impossible.

"The inspector wishes to speak with you," said the stranger, as he pointed out the man Captain Barbados had addressed.

"Very well," replied Howard, as carelessly as he could. Then, as the man turned away, he whispered to Estella: "Can I trust you with this packet, or will they examine you also?"

She did not reply, but her brown, shapely fingers closed over his letters, and she slipped them into her dress. "Is that all?"

"All but a pistol in this overcoat--they can have that if they wish it so much."

"The Plaza del Silveo, at eight to-night, if we do not meet again," she whispered, and then, as another inspector came up, they parted.

When Howard reached the inspector's side, he was at once ordered into one of the smaller cabins. Two men attended him, and searched his clothing from head to foot, and even pulled off the heavy boots he wore. In the meantime, the light overcoat had been thrown lightly on an adjacent chair.

The inspector was much chagrined at finding nothing to confirm the suspicions Barbados had cast on the young war correspondent, and sent for the captain to explain matters. The pair talked outside of the cabin door for several minutes, and finally Howard was sent to the other end of the boat, among several others who were detained, while the remainder of the passengers were allowed to go on shore with their luggage.

It was nightfall before the young war correspondent was told he was free to go where he pleased, so long as he remained within the city limits. Should he venture outside without the password (and that was not furnished to him) he would be shot. A hasty examination was made of his overcoat, but, luckily, the weapon--the only one he possessed--was not brought to light.

On reaching the landing, Howard at once made his way to the Anglo-American Club, where he was kindly received by a dozen or more men, all anxious to see an American face and hear the latest gossip from New York.

But Howard was in no mood to spend time with them. He had come on two important missions--one for himself, and one for the press association he represented--and he realized that he must make the best possible use of his time. Besides, there was sweet Estella! How he longed to be again at her side! He was glad she had taken the letters, for now he would have the chance to converse with her once more before she left Santiago for her home in the interior.

It was an easy matter to ascertain where the Plaza del Silveo was situated--up at the farther end of one of the main streets of the town. Half-past seven found him on his way thither, his pistol in his pocket, and on the lookout for any spy who might be dogging his footsteps.

The plaza reached, Howard gazed up and down the square, and into the narrow and dirty streets beyond. Only a few persons were in sight, and Estella was not among them.

"Help! Help!"

The cry, ringing out so unexpectedly upon the evening air, caused his heart to give a great bound. It was Estella's voice, and she was evidently in dire need of assistance.

The call came from a house up the narrow street. The young war correspondent turned quickly in the direction whence the voice had come, and in a few moments he saw Estella hastily approaching, closely pursued by a Spanish officer.

"Let me go!" he heard her cry, as the burly officer caught her about the waist. "Release me, I command you!"

"Not quite yet, my little Cuban rebel!" returned the officer. "You're a perfect little Tartar, but you sha'n't escape me!"

"Villain, unhand her!" thundered Howard, as he leaped to Estella's side. As he spoke, a well-aimed blow knocked the Spanish officer off his feet, and sent him staggering up against the building.

"Help! Guard!" bawled the man who, Howard now saw, wore the uniform of a captain in the royal army. "Arrest that man! He is an American spy! And hold the woman! She has papers of great importance for General Campos!"