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 His Cuban 
 
 Sweetheart 
 
 H IRovel 
 
 COL. RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 ("MY OFFICIAL WIFE," ETC.) 
 
 AND 
 
 MRS. ARCHIBALD CLAVERING GUNTER 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY
 
 COPYRIGHT, i8gs. 
 By A. C. GUNTER. 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 THE BUCCANEER S LEGACY. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER I. At Edgecliff on the Hudson, - 5 
 
 " II. The Altar Treasure of Maracaibo, 18 
 " III. The Veiled Secret of the Leaden 
 
 Casket, - 34 
 
 " IV. Felipe s Quest, - - 51 
 
 " V. Wait Till We Hear From Nixon, 67 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 IN THE GRASP OF THE SPANIARD. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. " Pasado por las Armas," - - 79 
 " VII. The King of Emeralds, - 100 
 
 VIII. The Vital Half, -114 
 
 IX. The Innocent Hand Breaks the 
 
 Seal, - 133 
 
 " X. The Ball from the Hammerless 
 
 Revolver, - 149 
 
 " XI. " Courage and Quinine !" - 160 
 
 2046111
 
 4 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 A MODERN FILIBUSTER. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. Helpless in the Forest, - 170 
 
 XIII. The Ambush on the Aguan, - 184 
 XIV. The Missing Signal Fire, - 198 
 
 XV. "It is the Padre!" - -216 
 
 XVI. There is no Stain upon the 
 
 Robe, - - 233 
 
 " XVII. "The Law of the Buccaneers!" 243
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE BUCCANEER S LEGACY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AT EDGECLIFF ON THE HUDSON. 
 
 " YOUNG man! Do you know where you are going ?" 
 demanded James Nixon, M.D., severely, as he nailed 
 his friend, Frank Lorimer, in front of the Hoffman 
 House, on a pleasant August evening of the peaceful 
 year of ninety . 
 
 "Not quite so hard, Buster, " remarked the victim 
 singled out of the uptending drift of America s one 
 promenade. " Let up and I ll answer. I suppose I 
 must call you Doctor Jim now ! " 
 
 Still in the grasp of his classmate, whose "stroke " 
 was not yet forgotten in the rapid eclipse of varsity 
 heroes, Lorimer shook his tawny locks and laughed, as 
 his captor gravely said : There is but one human being 
 now ornamenting this mundane sphere of football who 
 is privileged to call me Doctor Jim, and she is the 
 very nicest girl in New York bar none ! But I will 
 answer for you, as you stand recusant. You are 
 going back to the Club to dine with me." Lorimer 
 nodded. 
 
 " First there is a little ceremony ! " remarked the 
 returned traveler. So side by side they stood in 
 a few moments, dividing their attention between the
 
 6 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 deft manipulations of the "gentleman" who prac 
 ticed at the bar of the Hoffman and those active 
 o ergrown frolic nymphs of Bougereau twitching around 
 very roughly that patient satyr who is only one Adam 
 among far too many Eves, and so pitifully outclassed. 
 
 " Your patients ! " gayly cried Lorimer, as he struck 
 the attitude of the Governor of North Carolina. 
 
 "Your clients!" merrily rejoined Doctor Jim in 
 the pose of the chief executive of South Carolina of 
 that ilk! 
 
 " De mortuis nil nisi," sadly remarked the son of 
 Galen, as he gazed into the wreck of a Manhattan. 
 
 " Les absens out to uj ours tort" quietly replied Frank 
 Lorimer. "But neither tort nor trespass nay, nor 
 breach of promise even the festive divorce naught 
 cometh my way. If I ever figure conspicuously in 
 legal circles, I fear I will have to furnish forth the 
 wedding breakfast with funeral baked meats of my 
 own cooking." 
 
 " In other words," rejoined Doctor Jim, "we may 
 admit that we have toiled all night, and taken nothing. 
 Is this a fair return to Alma Mater for all her years of 
 fostering care ? " 
 
 Lorimer laughed heartily as they selected a couple 
 of Brevas. "We might have done worse by old Yale." 
 he gravely argued. " In the first place we have both 
 just taken something. I have taken a trip around the 
 world for these two weary years, to restore my nerves, 
 broken down by much midnight oil! And you? 
 What have you taken? How stands the record of 
 the dying year? as the Devil somewhat pointedly 
 queried of that very remarkable person, the Black 
 Crook." 
 
 Doctor Jim Nixon, with an air of professional dig 
 nity, admitted taking a long furlough. A year of 
 European gadding and a twelve months cruise in the 
 West Indies with his esteemed uncle, Surgeon Bradford, 
 U. S. Navy, had filled up his time bill. 
 
 "And what may your harvest have been, my man of 
 bones ? " continued Lorimer, as they strolled over 
 Madison Square to a quiet corner in the University 
 Club.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 7 
 
 "I have learned how to roll cigarettes a 1 Espagnoi, 
 also the soft dialect of Don Quixote de la Mancha, 
 and the art of devouring alligator pears, conch soup 
 and many weird Castilian dishes suitable in tone to the 
 climate of your probable final domicile. But I can con 
 scientiously swear that I am guiltless of human blood ! 
 No lost soul comes wailing to my door! I ve learned 
 a bit of the world, though. But the law ? Your 
 chaste mistress ? " 
 
 " I have been a law unto myself ! " lightly answered 
 Lorimer, "and I have expounded the law, Thou shalt 
 not steal, to the many cosmopolitan sharks nibbling 
 at my juicy youthful greenness. I have also satisfied that 
 vague yearning to go aimkssly abroad which proves we 
 are still a parvenu nation. I have been indifferent in Eng 
 land, mildly agnostic in France, flatly defiant in Ger 
 many, and passive among the madding Italian crowd, 
 Perhaps I have at least learned the value of directness, 
 for I came directly home like a good boy from Liver 
 pool no stops on the way. I have seen about the 
 whole thing and I have not practiced to deceive, 
 if I have not exactly knocked Webster, Choate, 
 Kent and Story from their coigns of vantage." 
 
 As the two friends faced each other at table, they 
 were a striking contrast. Frank Lorimer s twenty- 
 four years showed the splendid development of a tawny- 
 haired athlete. Blue-eyed, with a frank laughing face, 
 his restrained garb of civilization covered the browned 
 arms and sun-scorched back of a giant midship oar. 
 
 "Doctor Jim" in supple dark elegance of contour, 
 disguised the spring-steel vitality of his perfect propor 
 tions. Clear, steady, dark-brown eyes, a firmly cleft 
 chin, with mobile, sensitive lips, and a flush of restrained 
 Celtic passion, he might have been taken easily for the 
 pick of either of the three branches of the gifted Gauls. 
 
 The chance reunion of two leading members of 
 the "Skull and Bones " set their hearts throbbing once 
 more with the memories of their days of wine and 
 wassail. Before the chums had reached the Omega of 
 the menu, they had discussed many half forgotten 
 college comrades, and genial old-time roving enemies. 
 
 "See here, Buster!" remarked Frank Lorimer
 
 8 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 with a sudden soberness, "as we are Doth doing 
 nothing suppose we join forces and do it to 
 gether! Now, old man, you have long owed me 
 a visit. I have a telegram from the Mater to report 
 forthwith at Edgecliff. I have not seen my home 
 for these two long years. Come and be one 
 of us in the slumbrous old Fishkill valley ! You can 
 run down to York whenever you want a day! There 
 are trout they actually are takeable! And wood 
 cock a more or less evanescent tradition! At any 
 rate, we will get as near them as we do to most of the 
 things we covet in life. We will have a distant glimpse 
 at least! You know my mother always fancied you. 
 And Ethel is at home now. She has been success 
 fully ground out of Matthew Vassar s training mill for 
 la jeune personne bien elevee / I hope she will not look 
 down on me ! For the New Woman cometh on apace 
 in. her might." 
 
 "She was a nice little girl," remarked Doctor Jim, 
 with a four years past memory of a delightfully over 
 grown young thing with a mutine child face. It was 
 in that strange uncertain age when frocks are unad- 
 justable and nothing fits, when Nixon had led the shy 
 child over the campus of Yale. His personal 
 reminiscences were only a clouded vision of "legs and 
 arms for two." 
 
 "By Jove, Doctor Jim! It s a case of child no 
 more ! Her last photograph shows me a slip of the 
 budding new womanhood of America. I may have 
 to ask for an introduction myself. Now you have not 
 one plausible excuse to offer. Let us strike our tents 
 to-morrow! Come to the bower I have shaded for 
 you! " gayly suggested Frank. " Foi de Rohan, there 
 are no mosquitoes at Edgecliff! " 
 
 "I would like to come," replied Nixon. "I 
 might run up and stay from a Friday night to Monday 
 morning, for I blush to admit that I am really one of 
 the three months extra physicians of the Board of 
 Health, and my tour of duty runs on to October ist. 
 I am also making a special study of nervous 
 diseases with Jacoby! That seems to be my branch of 
 the craft! " musingly added the Doctor.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 9 
 
 Frank Lorimer started at the last remark. "Nixon, 
 you must surely come up to Fishkill with me. Throw 
 overboard your Board patients for a few days, or get a 
 leave. I have really a very interesting case for you. 
 Something in your own special line. I had forgotten 
 all about the dear old Mater s letter, for she did charge 
 me with a request to look up some reliable nerve 
 specialist." 
 
 " I hope there is nothing wrong in your own family, 
 Frank!" earnestly rejoined Doctor Jim, with an air of 
 startled interest. In truth James Nixon, M. D. , had been 
 secretly speculating upon the possible development of 
 the Miss Legs and Arms, of these four years of rose 
 bud formation, into a shining wonder, wearing a real 
 train. 
 
 "No! Our own people are all well, thank God!" 
 heartily said Frank. " But I really have a double 
 claim on you now. For many years the dear mother s 
 widowed seclusion at Edge.cliff has been lightened by 
 the courtly friendship of an old Cuban Don, who 
 has a modest villa near by. In my recent boyish days I 
 always considered General Jose Romero quite good fun. 
 I really don t know why they call him General, 
 added the young man, "save that he is darkly 
 supposed to have been chased out of Cuba by 
 some revolutionary pampas and I suppose it is always 
 the swell thing for a Cuban to be a General. I only 
 recognize now the perfection of his manners. The 
 bonhommie of a Henri Quatre the gentle gravity of a 
 Don Quixote. He has been growing feeble. There s 
 something a little out of gear in his upper story, and as 
 you speak Spanish, I will nail you as the coming 
 specialist. So get another sawbones to take your 
 gentle clientele for a week, and you can bag the Don, 
 the trout and the woodcock at one fell swoop." 
 
 " Has he any family?" rejoined Nixon, with an air 
 of awakening interest. 
 
 " A very spirited lad of twenty, his only son, Felipe, 
 and a Cuban boy, a sort of ward, the relative of some 
 influential priest down at Matanzas. Both these 
 youngsters are being educated at Poughkeepsie. That is, 
 they are mixing up all American petty vices with the
 
 10 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 little back load they brought from la siempre fiel isla 
 de Cuba. Felipe is not a bad sort, but the other boy, 
 Juan Valdes, is a terror an ugly mannered cur. I 
 have given him some royal thrashings. Felipe is all 
 moonlight eyes, chivalry, generosity and soft guava jelly 
 broken English. The other is a black-browed, reso 
 lute young wretch, smart enough, God knows, and 
 will make a capital subject for the garrote some day. " 
 
 Lorimer paused and sipped his cafe noir. 
 
 "And las Senoras y Senoritas?" questioned Doctor 
 James. "Hath the knight of La Mancha no woman 
 kind? In this stress he would seem to sorely need 
 the hand of the gentle sex." 
 
 "There is a daughter, my boy," triumphantly re 
 joined Frank. " Seiiorita Inez Romero, and I beg 
 the doncellas pardon. She has been pressed gently 
 through the grooves of Vassar College as a foil to 
 Ethel, and they are in that delicious intimacy of young 
 womanhood known as sworn bosom friends. When I 
 saw them last they were identically decorated with 
 class pins, class bracelets and class gewgaws of all 
 kinds. The Cuban maid was then a shy, silent, 
 graceful girl with two very telling, wistful eyes. Ethel 
 writes me that Inez is wonderfully beautiful now. 
 Her mother was the reigning belle of la Havana in 
 the golden days of the great Capitan General Concha. 
 The storm which drove General Romero to our shores 
 laid her under the fan palms of the old hacienda at 
 Jibacoa. The old hidalgo is still tenderly faithful to 
 her memory. So, his lonely sorrow, has lightened 
 my mother s widowhood, for in this case one and one 
 make only one half each instead of two. The two 
 girls have grown to be very dear to each of these 
 lonely lives. If you had not made that remark, 
 Jimmy, about the girl who monopolizes your profes 
 sional title, I would have added that you could work 
 in a little of the lengua castellana here in the luz 
 de mi alma and ojos criollos style. Are you pre 
 empted already ? " 
 
 Doctor James was gravely tender as he said: " That 
 girl of whom I spoke, Frank, my only relative, the last 
 of our race, Clare Nixon, my sweet, gray-eyed cousin,
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. II 
 
 takes the white veil next month. Dearly beloveu oy 
 me, she will only be the bride of Silence! " After a 
 pause, he queried: "Is your escaped patriot a rich 
 man ? " 
 
 "That ( s the very thing," anxiously replied Frank. 
 "They say we all have a fad a loose pulley some 
 queer crank notion in our natures. The Mater writes 
 that Don Jose, who has led a singularly moderate life, 
 devoid of all apparent excitement, is dead gone on the 
 subject of an imaginary realm of treasures in emeralds, 
 which are his shadowy riches. " 
 
 " A sort of King of Emeralds, a gentle hallucina 
 tion! " murmured Nixon. "I suppose that his mind is 
 beginning to wander." 
 
 " Not a bit," energetically replied Lorimer, " Gen 
 eral Romero is only sixty-two and his present fad 
 takes the form of ::n enthusiasm very definite and 
 positive. My mother writes that he soon expects a 
 visit from Padre Vicente Guerra, this young tiger cub s 
 uncle. I believe the Padre has endeavored to save 
 something out of the wreck of vast sugar and tobacco 
 plantations, and the scattered wealth of Don Jose. 
 But the present stern Governor-General has legally 
 confiscated the Jibacoa Hacienda. The General is a 
 proscribed traitor, and would likely be pasado por 
 las annas if he stole back there. That is out of 
 the question. He is only too well known in 
 Havana, where his tender-eyed wife was the queen 
 of the goddesses of the volante for years. Now the 
 coming of this priest strangely agitates the old 
 Don. He tells all to the Mater! She is a little fright 
 ened, I think. Even the simple girl, Inez, is anxious! 
 She knows nothing whatever of the emerald bonanza, 
 and the boy is occasionally at school, or mostly roving 
 around New York with the undesirable Juan Valdes. 
 Beyond a decided leaning toward the American girl 
 and a capacity for twanging the guitar and haunting 
 the theaters, I believe that Felipe is good for nothing, 
 save to spend money a la Habanera." 
 
 " Does the hopeful Felipe know aught of the green 
 gems and where they are salted down ? " earnesly ques 
 tioned Nixon.
 
 12 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 "Bless you! Felipe Romero is so gracefully mentally 
 lazy that he could not tell an emerald from a marsh- 
 mallow! " 
 
 "Well, Frank," slowly said Doctor James, " I will 
 take a week off like Mary Ann, and accept your kind 
 invitation! " The young medico rose as he glanced at 
 the clock. 
 
 "I will give you a rattling good time," cried Lori- 
 mer, "and I am glad to see that Miss Inez has turned 
 the scale like the sword of Brennus. For adding her 
 to the trout, the Don and the woodcock, the big four 
 is irresistible. The only thing you have to do is to 
 gain the dear old General s confidence, for he is charm 
 ingly courteous, yet solemnly distant, and you will have 
 to dig him out of his shell like a pecan." 
 
 "I shall be very happy to thank your mother for 
 her past kindness in college days!" said Nixon, 
 warmly, as they parted for the night, a rendezvous for 
 the morrow having been arranged. 
 
 Lorimer sped away across the park like a shooting 
 star, intent upon his purpose "to hunt up some of the 
 other fellows," and yet his mind was strangely cen 
 tered upon the soft-voiced Cuban girl ! He remembered 
 laughing on a Mediterranean steamer at reading the 
 semi-original poem signed "Oscar" in the Fishkill 
 Weekly Bugle addressed to "Inez and Ethel," in which 
 the rural songster had improved Byron by tacking a 
 new prow on his well-known lines, with the needed 
 alterations: 
 
 "And all that s best of dark and bright 
 Meets in their aspect and their eyes!" 
 
 "I wonder if she has Americanized herself into a 
 little staying power of beauty," mused Lorimer. 
 " She promised to be a stunner! " 
 
 Old Sol was doing his perpendicular best to drive 
 all the long-suffering and long suffered police of New 
 York City into the cool vaults where Gambrinus 
 reigneth, when the two friends met next day at the 
 Forty-second street station. There was a profession 
 ally expectant look of restful calm upon Nixon s hand 
 some face and a certain aptitude in the decorative arts 
 was shown in his cool grays and whites.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 13 
 
 As for Frank Lorimer, he was both wearied, flurried 
 and excited. 
 
 There was a crimson spot burning on his 
 cheek as he said anxiously: " I have both a letter and 
 a telegram from the Mater ! Did you bring your 
 indispensables in the way of nerve carpentering ? " 
 
 They were now bowling along out of town into the 
 tunnel! Nixon nodded an assent. 
 
 " I am glad, " remarked Lorimer in the shades of dark 
 ness. "The old Don has just had a cablegram from 
 Havana, his Friar of orders gray is on the way here, with 
 some important intelligence. It seems to have set the an 
 cient hidalgo swimming for dear life in his Emerald 
 sea or sea of Emeralds. For the Mater wired me to 
 take you right over there to see him. Inez is simply 
 frightened into helplessness, and is with our people. 
 The local medicos cannot speak the tongue of Tortillas 
 and Tamales and he is really very shy and suspicious! 
 But to you, coming to him from out of your own circle, 
 he will unfold his armadillo nature and shake out his 
 Castilian wrinkles. You ought to be able to tell pretty 
 .soon if he is only half cracked or a dead goner. Draw 
 him out, and let him the round unvarnished tale de 
 liver ! It will ease old prunciado s mind at all events ! " 
 
 As they spun along by Spuyten Duyvil and the 
 Bronx, classic Yonkers and dreamy Tarrytown, the 
 young Doctor mused alone over the situation. " I 
 shall endeavor to first steady the old gentleman s 
 nerves, then to give him a good sleep, and to find out 
 from Mrs. Lorimer arid the daughter what basis of 
 even probability there is for this emerald fad." 
 
 Lorimer listened with interest as James Nixon, M.D , 
 gravely expounded his preliminary theories. " There 
 is a world of difference, my dear boy, between the 
 haunting of this solitary dreamer s brain by an ingen 
 ious theory, formed upon certain facts or possibilities, 
 and a hallucination proceeding from mere mental 
 vagary, a wavering mind, senility or impending 
 paresis! A romantic-minded man linked in memory to 
 the weird mystic stones of the buccaneer-haunted 
 Spanish Main may indulge fairly woven dreams and 
 theories quite untenable to us practical Yankees! "
 
 14 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEAR1. 
 
 "You are right! " brightly remarked Lorimer. " I 
 have a firm belief that failing a windfall from undis 
 covered aunts or the heavy uncle of the stage, any 
 emeralds I ever get will be by purchase or theft. 
 Now, this gay relic of the aristocracy of the Greater 
 Antilles fancies that a large number of these 
 lambent sea-green gems are lying around loose 
 somewhere, waiting for him to pick them up. 
 That in some shadowy way they belong to him as 
 fruits of the bow and spear of some old mail-clad 
 ancestor. The Mater, Ethel and Inez Romero can 
 tell you something of his claims, memories or theories. 
 I have, however, little faith in them. I have figured the 
 general chances out on my shirt cuff and find some 
 thing like a million, nine hundred and odd thousand to 
 one against the General s success." 
 
 "Stop joking, Frank. Tell me the simple founda 
 tion of the Don s idea." Nixon tried to be severe. 
 
 " He has some vague papers referring to the plant 
 ing of these captured emeralds in some unknown place 
 several hundred years ago by some ancestor who 
 flourished with Cortez, Balboa, Pierre le Grand, 
 Lolonois Morgan, Hawkins or Sharp. I am inclined 
 to think that in those later unromantic days the 
 emeralds have probably been looted by some practical 
 man." 
 
 "Still, I must converse at length with his daughter 
 on the subject and arm myself to meet his story intel 
 ligently," remarked the doctor, soberly. 
 
 Frank Lorimer shook his tawny locks as he laughed: 
 " It will be a very necessary preliminary." 
 
 Whereat Nixon suddenly found a lively inter 
 est in contemplating the white-winged argosies waft 
 ing the prosaic brick of Haverstraw down to the wilds 
 of New York City. 
 
 Lorimer s minute social studies of such eminent 
 authorities as Life, Town Topics, Judge, Vogue, Puck, 
 et id omne genus, busied him till the cliff villages of 
 the great Hudson flashed by one by one and the 
 train swung around the stately fortress of West Point 
 under the walls of purpled overhanging Cro Nest. 
 
 The young doctor was lost in a day-dream. His
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 15 
 
 light-hearted friend automatically expanded his genial 
 countenance over the humor infesting his jovial lit 
 erature, while Nixon drifted into a series of rapidly 
 dissolving glimpses of the romantic past. 
 
 " Here comes the shadow of the grim paladins of 
 the Spanish Main stalking into our unromantic times," 
 reflected the young physician. "The wealth of old. 
 Where is it ! True, the ocean s greedy maw has 
 devoured spoils of argosy, galley and trirene the 
 wealth of Ormus and of Ind. Fire, the wanton waste of 
 barbarian captors, the earthquake shock and all the 
 happenings of slowly drifting centuries, have hidden the 
 spoils of the Romans, the treasures of Greece, 
 the riches of Egypt. Hundreds of millions in gems 
 are probably hidden in India from the keen eyes of 
 the rapacious official English. It may well be possible 
 that a distinct treasure in emeralds, secreted in a 
 place of surety, would be safely awaiting for two or 
 three centuries the open sesame of some descendant 
 of their possessor. The General may really have found a 
 secret of the Past hidden in the flourish and firmas of 
 old Spanish parchments. Probably some hoard 
 extorted from trembling natives by a haughty Castilian 
 official, who left some description of the hidden treas 
 ure, for the old Buccaneers were wont to write their 
 deeds in blood alone !" 
 
 Ten minutes after the day-dream passed away and 
 Doctor James Nixon recovered his presence of mind 
 and dropped his portmanteau, as Frank wound 
 himself out of the clinging embrace of a gracious lady 
 whose still blooming cheek recalled the days when men 
 called her the "Rose of the Hudson." 
 
 Mrs. Agnes Lorimer was pleased to be kindly reminis 
 cent of her beloved son s college chum, as he stood hat in 
 hand. There was an amused twinkle in Frank s eyes as 
 he led the astonished Doctor Jim up to a daughter of 
 the gods, divinely tall, and most divinely fair. 
 
 "Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" mut 
 tered Doctor Jim, "but the little girl of the college 
 campus has bloomed into a goddess!" Then and 
 there, before this sudden apparition in blue and gold, 
 sapphire eyes of gleaming tender light, and a wealth of
 
 l6 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 golden hair sweeping down over her pretty, sloping 
 shoulders, James Nixon, M.D., felt the premonitory 
 twinges of an attack of " heart disease," the most sud 
 den, subtle and strangely sweet of all cardiac affec 
 tions. 
 
 While he murmured some singularly idiotic and irrel 
 evant greetings to the fair young pillar of Vassar, 
 Doctor Jim s illogical remarks "I did not expect I 
 had hoped, Miss Ethel that is, I did not know 
 etc., etc., were cut short by the frankly extended hand 
 whose gentle pressure agitated his nerve centers 
 strangely when the favored of Venus said: 
 
 "I have not forgotten all your kindness to me at 
 New Haven." 
 
 " I must claim your professional aid at once," ear 
 nestly interjected Mrs. Lorimer, " for General Romero 
 is in a singularly excited state. Inez is with him now. 
 Our two local physicians cannot communicate with 
 him technically. We will drive there. Later I 
 shall prison you with us at Edgecliff, which you must 
 learn to love for Frank s sake." 
 
 In a strange confusion the soul-startled Nixon 
 mechanically echoed the fair widow s words as his eyes 
 lingered lovingly upon the beautiful apparition whom 
 Lorimer seemed to treat as if she were not made of 
 fire and dew, of*blossoms and the breath of the spring 
 roses of life. 
 
 "Oh, certainly, Madame; by all means! I am sure I 
 shall learn to love Edgecliff for Frank s sake, as you 
 say!" And with a gleam of professional dignity, a 
 waft of the mantle of Jupiter, he slid down from the 
 clouds into the calm, deep waters of professional 
 questionings. 
 
 "I must stick to Don and the Emeralds," heroic 
 ally decided Doctor Jim, mindful of his Hippocratic 
 oath, as he was swept up the smooth roads of the 
 pleasant Fishkill Valley into the elm-shaded driveway 
 of a quaint old porticoed villa with a smack of revolu 
 tionary tradition. 
 
 "This is the General s home," said Mrs. Agnes, as 
 the young doctor ceremoniously handed her out of the 
 wagonette. "And there is Inez! "
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 17 
 
 Nixon turned his head. But already between him 
 and the Cuban maiden was that genial son of Anak, 
 Frank Lorimer! " The white brother s " voice was as 
 soft as the cooing dove, and Nixon, blinded only as 
 regarded himself, observed a light in his chum s eyes 
 far different from the dancing fire "at the other fellows. " 
 
 The mental pabulum of Vassar, the rosy hours of 
 young womanhood, and the magnetic companionship of 
 the American girl, had developed Inez Romero into the 
 subtlest, tenderest, strangest, thrilling, semi-foreign 
 loveliness! "She is a stunner, as friend Frank has 
 it! " thought Nixon, as he greeted the graceful, dark- 
 eyed beauty in the language she loved. 
 
 Led by the daughter of the stately old refugee, the 
 young physician entered the room where the King of 
 Emeralds was floridly waving his delicate, thin fingers 
 in futile attempts to convey sign language to two 
 bustling country practitioners. A colloquy with farmer s 
 rosy housewives was more in their line than exchanging 
 " beso las manos" with a distant relative of the Cid 
 Campeador. 
 
 With all due courtesy to his brethren who were glad 
 to be relieved of the stately enigma now " developing" 
 his views in sonorous periods to the New York doctor 
 Nixon proceeded to arrange for the quiet and com 
 fort of the ardent and enthusiastic old Cuban. A half 
 hour later the effect of Doctor Jim s Spanish and some 
 singularly powerful bromides caused the silver gray 
 head of Don Jose to nod gently back into the cushions 
 of his chair of state. 
 
 "Sea por Dios ! Muy sabio pero muy joven !" 
 benignantly whispered the General to his beautiful 
 daughter, kneeling at his feet, as he listened to the 
 Doctor s pledge to hear the whole history of the case 
 early the next day. 
 
 " I will return in the evening and confer with you, 
 Senorita ? " softly said Nixon, as he left the white 
 robed Murillo-faced girl bending over her delicate sire. 
 "He looks like a marquis of the old regime," thought 
 Doctor Jim, as he turned away to where a certain pair 
 of blue eyes were now bidding him to the genial hearth 
 stone of Edgecliff.
 
 1 8 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE ALTAR TREASURE OF MARACAIBO. 
 
 OUT of the glen where Villa Romero nestled 
 under its old elms and chestnuts, hardby a 
 dancing brook which babbled as it ran away to join the 
 Kill, James Nixon "personally conducted" sped 
 on toward Edgecliff. 
 
 Doctor Nixon never could recall all the successive 
 tableaux of his first evening in her presence. The mantle 
 of Romero had fallen across a prosaic everyday life, 
 into whose gray warp roguish Don Cupid was already 
 twining threads of gold. The consideration of the 
 still distant emeralds of legendary existence was now 
 eclipsed by the living sapphires of Ethel Lorimer s 
 beautiful eyes ! 
 
 Mrs. Lorimer, anxious and preoccupied with the 
 fate of the feudal looking old cavalier, left Doctor 
 Jim to a quiet consideration of his own "case!" 
 
 Strange to say, while Miss Ethel dropped into a 
 frank open friendship with the son of Galen, her 
 brother during the return drive only lifted his head to 
 say to his mother : "Are you as fond of Inez as ever ? " 
 
 " She is a part of our daily life, Frank," replied the 
 fair widow. "For while the General easily communes 
 with us in French ; when at all carried away, he drifts 
 at once into Spanish! So I lose him for a time! The 
 wrongs of Cuba, his strange quest for the old family 
 hoard and the past in which he lives, carry him away. 
 But Inez is a blended American and Cubana. She is 
 moonlight and sunlight! " 
 
 Frank Lorimer sighed the sigh of the social sinner. 
 He had projected himself into the orbit of this dark- 
 eyed queen of night, with undue carelessness, and as 
 Dian leaned over Endymion, so the sweet presence of 
 the Spanish patrician seemed to wrap him in a cloud 
 mist of love s witching fascinations. 
 
 Despite the beauty beside him, James Nixon was
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 19 
 
 forced to think of his new patient whose singular pre 
 occupation argued a cerebral excitement very 
 dangerous for a man of his years. 
 
 "Allow me to ask, Madame, the nature of the Gen 
 eral s occupation and his habits ? " he queried. 
 
 "I have known Don Jose ten years," responded 
 Mrs. Lorimer. "He has been a model of the measured 
 abstemious elegance of the better class of Cubans. 
 Stately and retiring, he has busied himself with Inez, 
 wi.th the direction of Felipe s education, his morning 
 walks, his afternoons al fresca, and his evening inter 
 course with us. His habits are almost soldierly in their 
 regularity and, when not driving with Inez, or dream 
 ing under the old chestnuts, he is turning over the 
 books, maps and plans in this quaintly decorated 
 library. I have never seen company at his house, save 
 his banker Munoz, from New York. Once or twice, 
 a few Van Dyke bearded visitors have flitted like bats 
 around the old place, usually at such times as the New 
 York Herald hurls abroad the tidings of contemplated 
 risings in Cuba. A measured elegance in living causes 
 me to think that General Romero has ample means in 
 Munoz s hand. He receives very few letters, and I 
 have never seen him excited save in his recent agita 
 tion about the lost treasure. I believe Padre Vicente 
 Guerra has aimed to smuggle out a few of the family 
 heirlooms secreted from the greedy Spaniards. There 
 is fine plate, some good pictures, and bric-a-brac of ex 
 quisite taste, in the old nest. His servants are all 
 notable, sturdy glen dwellers here, save one old spectre 
 who was his companion in the guerilla wars of Cuba." 
 
 "And Inez? Does she know aught of the family 
 history ?" asked Nixon. 
 
 " She was so young, " answered Mrs. Lorimer, "that 
 she remembers little but the magnificence of their ha 
 cienda at Jibacoa, and the wild tumult of her father s 
 flight, after the last rising!" 
 
 " How did the General himself escape?" queried 
 Doctor Jim. 
 
 When the Lone Star flag of Cuba went down in the 
 shadow doom, Don Jose, who had fought himself up to 
 special outlawry, made his way to the coast disguised
 
 2O HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 as a negro, and followed by faithful old Basilio. The 
 first canoe on the shore, with some gourds of fresh 
 water and clusters of bananas, fitted him for a des 
 perate voyage on the broiling blue expanse of the Car 
 ibbean. Paddling and drifting till out of sight of land, 
 an American logwood schooner luckily picked them up 
 and landed them at Key West. Since then Don Jose 
 has lived here tranquilly, save by the annoyance of 
 furtive Spanish spies, who connect the old lion with 
 any strange movements of the present. This is all I 
 know of him, except that he is the most charming of 
 men, a devoted father, a devout Catholic, a patient, 
 placid nobleman. He has taught me chess, his an 
 tiquated game at cards, and I vibrate between his table 
 and my own. Voila tout! " said Agnes Lorimer. 
 
 "And do you like the old General, too, Miss 
 Ethel?" hazarded Nixon. 
 
 "He is the dearest old cavalier alive," enthusi 
 astically replied the young heiress of Edgecliff. "A 
 symphony in gray and yellow with a golden heart. 
 But one touch of crimson lights up the calmness of his 
 soul. It is the memory of his dear comrades, the pas 
 sionate proud hacienda gentry slaughtered in the des 
 perate fight a 1 outrance for Cuba Libre. As for Inez, 
 we belong to the same secret society at Vassar, 
 and are sworn sisters besides." Ethel triumphantly 
 rattled her trophies of that college as mystic and 
 fearful as the insignia of Rosicrucians. 
 
 A mad thought possessed Doctor Jim. "Can men 
 be initiated into those sisterly fraternities?" He 
 hurled his whole odic force at the pouting beauty. 
 
 "By no means!" decidedly replied Ethel. Then 
 she doubtfully added : "They may be eligible later, 
 perhaps. " 
 
 " I hope that I will be the first chosen," pleadingly 
 remarked Doctor Jim. "And I shall rely on you to 
 propose my name." 
 
 She dropped her softly shining eyes in confusion 
 and reserved the momentous question of Doctor Nixon s 
 eligibility for a future consideration and a moment 
 after cried merrily: "Here we are at Edgecliff." 
 
 The sun dropping behind the blue crests of the
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 21 
 
 Highlands, rested on no fairer scene than beautiful 
 Edgecliff, in its romantic shaded valley. Before the 
 evening star shone out, Doctor Jim, piloted by the 
 blue-eyed chatelaine, who had beamed on him, knew all 
 the varied beauties of the revolutionary mansion. Lawn 
 and meadow, garden and arbor, lovers rambles and 
 points of vantage were, one by one, proudly ex 
 hibited. 
 
 " I shall leave it to brother Frank to show you the 
 windings of our old home itself. I am the ruler of the 
 Happy Valley. And, on my heath and lawns, you are 
 subject only to my orders," laughed Ethel as the dress 
 ing bell rang. 
 
 In all the gay chatter of the table and homecoming 
 of Lorimer, now a rejuvenated young sun god, Doctor 
 Jim was singularly distracted. He studied not the 
 diamond windows of the room where Benedict Arnold, 
 still a hero in blue and buff, had drunk Madeira with 
 Washington. He listened not to the legends of Israel 
 Putnam and the slashing. Wayne, the graceful anec 
 dotes of Lafayette, L Enfant and Kosciusko. For 
 beside him, replete with the tender sweetness of 
 spring, her bosom rising and falling in the rich tide of 
 her young life, Ethel Lorimer knitted around him the 
 invisible meshes of the snare which always brings the 
 lion down. 
 
 The subtle recognition of his unspoiled manhood, the 
 profusion of his mental gifts, gave the newcomer the 
 glamour of a young Apollo to both his hostess and her 
 daughter. From its vantage ground, among Queen 
 Anne plate of the old West India mahogany side 
 board, Washington s glass filled with the brinked 
 up Madeira, dear to Knickerbockers inspired the 
 dark-eyed visitor to his happiest flight, in a neatly 
 turned toast to the mistress of Edgecliff. 
 
 As James Nixon set down the ringing crystal, he 
 glanced at Ethel, her rose-tinted cheeks glowing with 
 all a girl s enthusiasm, and his mind ran on to the days 
 when peradventure she might reign here in the halls 
 hallowed by patriotism and sacred to hospitality. 
 
 A hush of unwonted gravity fell upon the circle as 
 Mrs. Lorimer remarked: " Doctor, I will send the car-
 
 22 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 riage over with you this evening, whenever you wish 
 to see your patient." 
 
 Nixon started and passed from one phase of nervous 
 disorders to another. For the rosy Hebe at his side 
 had chased away the vision of the old General Jose 
 Romero s long thoughtful face, with its overhanging 
 forehead. 
 
 " I am deeply interested in the Don s recovery," 
 continued Madame Lorimer. "We have long divided 
 each other s sorrows, and our children have grown up 
 together." 
 
 " I will go over at eight o clock, then, Mrs. Lori 
 mer! " gravely said Doctor Nixon. I wish to confer 
 seriously alone with Miss Inez. I presume the son 
 would be of no use." 
 
 Both the ladies shook their heads, more in sorrow 
 than in anger. 
 
 " I told you Felipe was only good to fill up a hole in 
 the air!" triumphantly remarked Frank. "I will 
 drive you over myself. There will be a lovely moon, 
 and I can also confer with Miss Inez," he roguishly 
 added, "while you have your first innings with Gen 
 eral Jose." 
 
 "Tell me what you know of the coming priest, the 
 Padre Guerra, " said Nixon. " It seems that this man 
 is the center of the newly-exciting influences sweeping 
 your old friend off his balance." 
 
 Mrs. Lorimer, serene and calm, measured in her 
 moods, said slowly: "I have seen Father Guerra once, 
 years ago. It was when he came to place this refrac 
 tory Valdes boy at school near us. The man is pecu 
 liarly repellant to me. He may be of a much lower 
 social grade than Don Jose. I would call him crafty, 
 austere, harsh, and capable of holding the lash over a 
 gentle nature." 
 
 "That awful man, mother!" cried Ethel. "He 
 always frightens me with his gleaming coal-black eyes, 
 his shaggy brows and his abrupt, harsh ways." 
 
 "Just the sort of man they hang in Texas when 
 they find him near a horse ranch! lightly said 
 Frank. " In externals you will find Viciente 
 Guerra perfectly useless for decorative purposes.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 23 
 
 I suppose he bullies the pillar dollars out of the peons 
 and snugly feathers his nest. Still, he seems to have 
 the old boy s confidence. Mark me, Doctor James! " 
 he continued earnestly, " if there is any future villainy 
 worked on the General, this beetle-browed padre will pop 
 up, Jack-in-the-box, right in the middle of it. His own 
 hopeful nephew is leading Felipe away. The lads have 
 both just money enough to spoil them. I fancy, too, 
 that Juan Valdes is a general spy in his uncle s interest. 
 It may be that the priest is feathering his nest down 
 there, and is a secret agent of the Spanish govern 
 ment." 
 
 " Miss Inez?" questioned Doctor Nixon. 
 
 " Despises both the mestizo priest and this scape 
 grace Juan; for these people connect her only 
 with the dark memories of her childhood. Now, mi 
 amigo^ said Frank, "I will soon show you the very 
 prettiest trotter in the Fishkill valley." 
 
 He set forth his cheroots and left Nixon a willing 
 captive to the" ladies on the portico, remarking, 
 "I ll be round in ten minutes." 
 
 " Can it be to the advantage of the church to keep 
 Don Jose away from Cuba? Does the Padre enjoy 
 the revenues of Jibacoa? " suggested Doctor Nixon. 
 
 "I cannot tell," regretfully answered Mrs. Lorimer. 
 "The General s gallantry in the field caused his 
 especial proscription. It seems the banker handles 
 all his usiness. Don Jose is so helpless in practical 
 matters. He accepts prosperity with modest thank 
 fulness, and adversity with graceful resignation. I 
 have given my whole life for Cuba Libre, he said once 
 to me. My heart is buried with my dead wife. Only 
 little Inez and the ashes of life and the dying embers 
 now remain. For Felipe is what you see, " he added 
 with a sigh. Then she sighed, " God help Inez if her 
 father should die." 
 
 And what would become of this friendless beauty? " 
 questioned the young doctor as the yellow wheels of 
 Frank s chariot glittered in the shrubbery. 
 
 " As long as a stone stands of Edgecliff, there is a 
 home here for Inez," quietly remarked the lady of the 
 manor, adding earnestly, " Seek to calm the
 
 24 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Don s mind, I beg you; to discover the truth 
 of the romantic visions which so recently have 
 come upon him. I hope," she said, timidly, 
 "that General Jose will not involve himself, risk his 
 capital, or be led into ruin by this crafty priest. I am 
 afraid ; it may only be some scheme to lure General 
 Romreo down there within the reach of the cruel 
 Spanish authorities." 
 
 " I can only promise my professional help, Madame," 
 replied the young doctor, heartily, "but I will confer 
 with Frank, and we will both watch over Don Jose, 
 his son and Inez for your sake. At any rate, he is 
 always safe in America. The days of poison and the 
 stiletto are over. As for the Spanish Government, it 
 has no more power than that of Liberia to remove him 
 from here." 
 
 And, as they drove away, Doctor James turned his 
 head to see the fair mother waving them adieu and 
 leaning upon the rosy goddess, who seemed to have 
 caught all the sunset gold in her tresses? 
 
 " You see," said Frank, as the mare s heels clicked 
 along merrily under the spreading branches, "the dear 
 old boy has the face and manners of a Don Juan of 
 Austria, the principles of the Cid, and is just about as 
 suited to our later day as a culverin in a Hotchkiss 
 quick-firing battery. His delicate visits of ceremony 
 to my lonely mother, his many acts of family kindness 
 have made him one of us. We must stand by him. I 
 count on you, dear Jim, to get the weathergage of the 
 old Don s phantoms. He is shy, proud, sensitive, 
 confiding and simple-hearted. I hope the black and 
 yellow padre won t fleece him. But here we are." 
 
 And with all the dignity of a first-class whip, Frank 
 Lorimer reined up his splendid mare at the portico, 
 where Inez Romero in fleecy white with a great cluster 
 of red roses in her breast, stood silently awaiting them, 
 an embodied spirit of all the dreamy loveliness of that 
 starlit August night. 
 
 The three young people conferred a few moments, 
 before the doctor "officially" crossed the threshold. 
 In the soft melting accents of her lovely sisterhood of 
 the magnolia land, Inez Romero s simple story was
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 25 
 
 soon told. Timidly raising her eyes to Frank for con 
 firmation and encouragement, the maid of Jibacoa re 
 counted all the leading incidents of her childhood. 
 
 " I see now, that in the four years of my absence 
 with Ethel at Vassar, my dear father has relapsed into 
 the buried past. The villagers are not congenial to 
 him. The brisk, lively, electric amassers of wealth who 
 play at retirement in the new villas here for twelve 
 hours a day, and then whirl away daily to Wall street 
 for another pull at Circe s cup simply stun and rebuff 
 him." 
 
 "I know that you will at once gain my dear father s 
 confidence, doctor," added Inez. "For to you he will 
 open his heart." And smiled the gentle prophecy. 
 
 "Do you know anything of this past which weighs 
 upon and harasses your father s mind ? " asked Nixon, 
 as he gazed admiringly at her beauty. 
 
 The girl paused and slowly answered: "I was so young 
 when we were driven away from Jibacoa that I cannot 
 fix my memories clearly. I knew that my beloved 
 mother used to bend over me in prayer, in my childish 
 days! I can see her now the gentle wistful smile, 
 her loving tender eyes, her sweeping hair falling in 
 perfumed wealth over my face, the camellia on her 
 bosom, and the red roses in her tresses. Dear Father 
 to-day treasures the golden crucifix which she was 
 wont to press to her lips as she murmured, after kiss 
 ing me : May the blessed Virgin, Star of the Sea, spare 
 you from the curse of Maracaibo ! 
 
 Doctor Nixon started ! There was then a histoire 
 de famille! 
 
 Inez continued sadly: "My negro nurses often 
 frightened me with their vague gibberish about 
 the family inheritance of woe ! When General Romero 
 left the wreck of Cuba s hopes on the last desperate 
 field of rebellion, it was only to guard Felipe and me that 
 he avoided the very last death struggle ! But I could 
 never bear to question him, though often burning with 
 childish curiosity. My mother s death, the downfall 
 of the patriotic cause, the confiscation of our vast 
 estates, his approaching old age, all these things 
 made me refrain! I see how he has now drifted away
 
 26 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 into the past! On my homecoming I frankly said: 
 Father, let me divide the burden of your sorrows. 
 Tell me all ! Then laying his dear hand on my 
 head in benediction, he softly said: Not yet, my own 
 Inez! Some day you will know all! Alas! Poor Felipe! 
 You are God s child, Inez Marie Estrello, but my son 
 lies under the grim doom of the Romeros! The fatal 
 knowledge will too soon come to you. After after I 
 am gone. And more he would not say. From Felipe, 
 I have gathered up by patchwork shreds all his glean 
 ings from our old retainer Basilio, and from this 
 young Juan Valdes a human magpie. In the olden 
 days an ancestor of ours, Fernando Aguilarde Romero, 
 a gallant cavalier, smarting under an outrage of the 
 tyrannical Governor-General at Havana, fled and 
 joined Capt. Henry Morgan, and served in his attack 
 and sack of Maracaibo in 1669. During his absence, 
 while fighting the wild tribes of Nicaragua under the 
 castled flag of Spain, the Governor-General hounded 
 his young wife with insult. On his return Fernando 
 threw his glove in the cowardly tyrant s face, cut his 
 way through the astonished guards and joined 
 the half-crazed band of French, Engli3h and 
 Basque buccaneers. A son of the church he 
 was outlawed, a price was set on his head, and 
 the doom of the Romeros dates from those awful 
 days when Morgan s men held high revel in the dese 
 crated Cathedral of Maracaibo. It was then that the 
 curse of excommunication came on us. For murdered 
 priests, ravished nuns and the rifled altars stirred the 
 soul of fugitive Fernando Aguilar. Only my father 
 and Padre Viciente Guerra know all," the pious girl 
 whispered, crossing herself. Then she continued, 
 impressively: "I know but this, that my father 
 would fain solve the whole mystery before he 
 dies. The curse rests alone on the men of our 
 race. And yet we helpless women suffer as the 
 rest. For all who marry into the Romero line droop 
 and die. The old story goes that the last of us, a 
 woman, shall pass out, free of the malediction of God s 
 vice-gerent. It is supposed that there are valuable old 
 papers secreted still about Jibacoa. For in his old age 
 Don Fernando Aguilar, pardoned by a new sovereign,
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 27 
 
 builded the halls where our family has since reigned. 
 Some documents yet extant point to the full 
 history of the affair, as being secreted in the old 
 Hacienda. For according to legendary romance the 
 vast treasures of the plundered Maracaibo cathedral 
 are hidden yet in some unknown haunt. Even in our time 
 the negroes say that sword in hand, the grim specter 
 of Fernando Romero stalks on guard around the 
 lonely walls of Hacienda Jibacoa. To discover the 
 past in all its shaded history, to atone, to restore, to 
 make restitution and peace with Rome at last, has 
 become my father s waking dream. " 
 
 Doctor Nixon lifted his head. " I thank you, my 
 dear young lady," he said. "I begin to see that we 
 must make a golden circle around your noble father. 
 This strange legend probed to the uttermost must at 
 last clear his mind, and no rough skepticism must be 
 suffered to drive him on into gloomy self-devouring. 
 I shall try to gain his whole confidence and then con 
 fer as to his physical treatment with the ablest men of 
 my craft. While he cannot venture under the 
 bloody flag of Spain, if there be news of moment in 
 this coming priest s budget, we must take steps to 
 reach the Hacienda and solve the riddle." 
 
 "Count on me," earnestly said Frank Lorimer, with 
 a glance at Inez which caused the gentle Cubana to 
 tremble in a sudden confusion, and lead the way 
 to the presence of the lonely old Don. 
 
 "I feel," whispered Lorimer, "that the thing is 
 destined to mold some of our lives strangely." 
 
 It is a case which will make demands on a con 
 siderable part of my time," guiltily remarked Nixon, 
 who could not ignore the fact that the "professional 
 assistance " of Miss Ethel Lorimer afforded to him a 
 great support in the investigations of all the tangle 
 around the strange family remnant. 
 
 The young doctor softly followed his gentle guide over 
 the threshold of General Romero s sleeping apartment. 
 The windows were open in the great airy chamber and 
 the rays of the August moon struggled victoriously 
 with the gleam of a silver night lamp. Extended on 
 an iron military couch, the General s face gleamed thin
 
 28 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 and yellow in the half shadow. His strongly marked 
 features were peaked and wan, with the exhaustion of 
 his excitement and the relaxation of the sedatives. 
 His flaccid fingers were closed upon the cherished 
 golden crucifix which had received his wife s last kiss. 
 A murmured " Buenas tardes, mi querido Senor!" 
 greeted Doctor Jim, whose digits closed upon the old 
 refugee s pulse. 
 
 The angular shapes of the veteran s once mighty 
 frame recalled the matchless Spanish infantry that 
 chivalry which broke the sway of the mighty Saracens 
 of Grenada. It spoke the heroes of Lepanto, the steel- 
 clad warriors who carried Spain s proud flag from Italy 
 to the Netherlands, in a march dwarfing the feasts of 
 Hannibal and the great Napoleon. 
 
 As Nixon approached his couch the old Don opened 
 his eyes and with a few words of welcome beckoned 
 him to a seat. 
 
 With a gentle inclination of her head Inez Romero 
 left leech and patient alone; led by love s mys 
 terious clue she rejoined Francis Lorimer, Esq., of 
 Edgecliff, who, strange to relate, " had much to say to 
 her on private account." 
 
 The young doctor busied himself with his notebook, 
 after a few perfunctory questions. He well knew the 
 shy, proud Spanish nature shrinking within itself at 
 the touch of the intrusive stranger. No mimosa was 
 ever more jealously self-protective in instinct than the 
 haughty yet gentle Cuban individuality. 
 
 Bearing the burden of his sorrows alone, wrapping 
 Inez in the mantle of a tender and protecting love, the 
 General had seen with vague alarm his spirited, idle 
 son drift away into the useless circles of " Do-nothing 
 Young America." He had at once recognized that 
 the needed social background for a Romero had van 
 ished. Storm and battle, splendid vice-regal courts, 
 the gilded luxury of slavery. 
 
 At length the General, resting upon his elbow, passed 
 his thin hand over the temples still throbbing with the 
 vague weariness of the intensely powerful antispas- 
 modis. As the Don s head fell back helplessly, Nixon 
 leaned over him. "Hijo mio ! " murmured the General.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 29 
 
 " I must be ready to meet Padre Viciente at New York 
 Shall I be better? I must go." 
 
 Doctor Jim calmed the wearied sufferer. "You 
 will be up in a few days. There is nothing danger 
 ous." 
 
 " Sea por Dios y la Santissima " devoutly murmured 
 Romero, crossing himself. " For the Padre brings me 
 tidings of great moment. I must go to him. A fortune 
 a treasure for my Inez." 
 
 " Let me be your man of affairs as well as physician, 
 General," earnestly replied Nixon. "Your son or 
 some one sent by your banker must meet Padre 
 Viciente and then bring him up to you here. When 
 does he arrive? " 
 
 " In four days," whispered the don. 
 
 " Then I will be the bearer of the news to your son, 
 and so answer for the Padre s safe arrival. I go down 
 to New York as soon as you are better, and I will gladly 
 serve you. " 
 
 "But you will return, my son!" the veteran 
 murmured. " I have that to tell you which I would 
 have the young Abogado Don Francisco know! He 
 will always be here with his noble mother to watch 
 over Inez, for alas! Felipe is light of head and hard 
 of heart! There is no place now for the sons of Cuba! 
 And the young Lorimer is a noble youth." 
 
 " I will soon return, General, and I would now sug 
 gest that you allow me to telegraph Don Felipe to join 
 young Valdes in greeting the Padre! " The physician 
 was earnest and very anxious to follow up the mystery. 
 
 "Manafia! Manaiia!" sighed Don Jose! "I will 
 now tell you of the weighty matters pressing on my 
 mind ! I was born rich, as all Cubans of rank are, and 
 never dreamed that care, sorrow and ruin would cross 
 in victory the threshold of the proud Romero s. Fiery 
 and ardent I was sent across the sea to Paris by my father 
 to learn the first lessons of life. General Tiburcio 
 Romero was royal commander of the district of Matan- 
 zas. He was sternly loyal to Spain, and his unforgiving 
 eyes saw unmoved the death of Lopez, Crittenden and 
 the mad rebels of my early boyhood ! Absent with his 
 troops or shining in the stately festivities of Concha s
 
 30 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 palace, Don Tiburcio was almost a stranger to me! It 
 was my mother and the Priest Fray Anselmo, who 
 tamed my savage nature, already spoiled by adula 
 tion!" He groaned. "Those golden years of young 
 manhood flitted lightly away in Paris! There was then 
 a royal court! I saw the downfall at last of Louis Phil- 
 lippe! In wine and wassail I rioted. I learned the use 
 less arts of the man of the world! In duel and intrigue 
 in play and adventure, "mad "Romero was long 
 remembered on the Seine. The Spanish ambassador 
 himself wrote to the General when I had the mal- 
 adroitness to slay in duel, a la barriere, a princely Aus 
 trian attache ! in a quarrel over the favors of the charm 
 ingly light-heeled but worthless Cerrito. I was recalled 
 to Cuba. 
 
 " When the packet achieved its tedious voyage, I 
 hastened at once to Jibacoa! They showed me my 
 mother s grave there under the magnolias! In silence 
 I mourned, for I knew now my wild conduct had 
 hastened her early death! Fray Anselmo gave me her 
 last messages and blessing! My father sent me at 
 once a commission in the rifles, and for three years I 
 was kept busied in the Sierras of the Vuelta Abajo 
 chasing runaway slaves and contrabandistas! They 
 tell yet of my wild, lonely ride, with but one orderly, 
 to reach my brave father s death-bed. He had been 
 thrown from his horse on parade. A bomb hurled by 
 a desperate rebel at Captain Concha achieved what the 
 bullets of the foe had failed to effect!" 
 
 The old man sighed, and slowly drank a cordial as 
 Nixon observed his increasing emotion! 
 
 He faltered along as in a dream. "There was some 
 little talk of my gallantry and devotion to duty. So, 
 when in a captain s uniform, I knelt beside the Gen 
 eral s death-bed, he gasped a blessing! In the ante 
 room, Fray Anselmo waited with the last muniments of 
 the Holy Church, but the iron-hearted soldier would 
 fain give me a few moments of a fatherly confidence 
 long withheld. Jose ! he muttered, My son ! The 
 last of the Romero s. The curse has come on me! 
 The doom of the excommunication ! Your mother 
 gone before! Your brothers and sisters cut off in their
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 31 
 
 flower by el vomito ! My own untimely end the 
 death of a dog ! We are doomed ! " 
 
 " Listen, he gasped. My time grows short! 
 There is a leaden box of papers! For you for you 
 alone! No one knows for I hid them myself. The 
 story of the Altar Treasure of the Maracaibo! The 
 history of the mad deeds of Fernando Aguilar de 
 Romero, who carried his dark secret to the grave for 
 he died unshriven ! " 
 
 " I never broke the seals of the story of the shame 
 of a race of Catholic nobles! " my gallant father mur 
 mured, "for the tradition of our house is that want 
 and woe, that exile and poverty must come before the 
 voice of the past is heard! That an innocent hand 
 free of the curse the hand of the woman the last 
 Romero must alone break the fated seal ! The story of 
 a murdered priest bearing the cross of Christ on his 
 anointed shoulders; the dark history of the plundered 
 altars of Maracaibo; the hidden emerald treasures; a 
 king s ransom, the spoils of the Musicas of Bogota; 
 the hundred years tribute of the Canca and the 
 Magdalena, is sealed in that leaden case! As you 
 fear a father s curse, as you would escape the doom of 
 all Fernando s heirs, guard this secret for those who 
 take up one burden of sorrow! I leave you rich! 
 Marshal Concha will advance you! Panchita his 
 fair daughter s eyes kindle even now at your name! 
 She has not forgotten your visit when you brought 
 the ringleaders of the slave mutiny captives to Havana! 
 Bring that rose of women here to Jibacoa as your 
 wife! " 
 
 A sudden paleness overspread the face of my dying 
 father. I sprang to his side. The box, the box! 
 I cried. His hand vainly sought my head in a bene 
 diction. It is under the and then the sharp 
 
 death-rattle cut off the unspoken message of our fated 
 race ! When Fray Anselmo tried to lead me away, I 
 clasped only the cold hand of my dead father in my 
 fevered palm! " 
 
 Don Jose groaned, as he whispered: "He had 
 died unconfessed, unshriven, with the secret of 
 three centuries locked in his fearless breast ! There
 
 32 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 was gloom in my heart as I listened to the chanting of 
 the frightened acolytes. The vain pomp of a public 
 funeral at Havana did not console me. I had 
 lost my father on the threshold of a budding man 
 hood his soul wandered in purgatory and the story 
 of the past seemed an overhanging curse. The 
 treasure is lost to us forever! " 
 
 The old Don raised his weary eyes to the picture 
 from which Panchita Concha s eyes still gazed down in 
 undying love upon the lover of her youth. Tears 
 slowly trickled through the veteran s wasted fingers as 
 he brokenly said : "There is a holy of holies! I can 
 not tell you of the paradise which she made for me in 
 the dark old home. I was promoted, was trusted. 
 Wealth flowed around us. Felipe and Inez then came 
 to gladden the halls where Concha s bravest general 
 had died unshriven even as died the accursed 
 Fernando Aguilar. 
 
 "I forgot in this happiness the overhanging doom. 
 While not on duty I vainly spent my whole 
 time searching for the leaden box hidden by my 
 father s hands. It seemed to me that if I could 
 unravel all the mystery of the past the shadow would 
 be lifted at last. I concealed my quest from all. 
 Fray Anselmo slept beside his gallant patron, and 
 Viciente Guerra, a man of singularly vigorous mind 
 and precocious talent, became our household chaplain. 
 
 "When I saw that sweet Panchita feared my 
 strange, eccentric ways my groping over the old 
 hacienda I then gave up to Viciente Guerra a part 
 of my secret. He has carried on for years the search 
 and now works alone. Though church preferment has 
 often been offered him he has clung to my ill-starred 
 race. Ah!" groaned the enfeebled General, "the 
 awakening came all too soon. In that year of mad 
 revolution of forty-eight the Cadmus teeth were 
 sowed over the world. I feared to own my thoughts 
 to a living soul. I even concealed in confession, God 
 forgive me." And the sufferer beat his breast. "The 
 oaths I had once taken, awful oaths, my memory 
 shudderingly brings them back now, of fidelity to a 
 mad dream of Cuba Libre.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 33 
 
 "As a Spanish officer of Concha s staff, as a mem 
 ber of his military family, when I rode out in the 
 moonlight to join the armed rebels in the field, I stood 
 at last under the curse which descended from our mad 
 dened ancestor, the Buccaneer of Maracaibo. I dare 
 not own how the secret emissaries taunted me to the 
 freed, with accusations of cowardice. I was young 
 my blood was hot. I had been entangled in Paris; but 
 behind me I left that angel from whose clinging arms I 
 tore away to become a desperate rebel at the call of 
 a shadowy secret society which claimed me body and 
 soul. The frightful folly of youth." 
 
 James Nixon s eyes were riveted on the old man 
 whose eyes now gleamed with the reflected tenderness 
 of the dear dead days. The young physician gently 
 brushed the clammy drops from the old Don s brow. 
 
 " I lost her that was the stroke of all; my friend. 
 For a time only for a time ; for I go to join her soon. 
 You have seen Inez, pabrecita, alma de mi vida ! " 
 
 There was a transcendant smile on the General s 
 pale face. "She must have friends to love her after 
 I am gone. You will soon know Felipe, poor boy. 
 The unfortunate lad was raised in scenes of blood and 
 terror. Noble old Concha spared my children. He 
 sent them to me after my escape. I was old, broken 
 and saddened and wretched, but he gave me my 
 children to soften the gloom of all these years of 
 exile. Viciente Guerra brought them here secretly. 
 Concha could not stay the proscription and the bitter 
 confiscation. I have nearly exhausted all the funds 
 which I had placed in Munoz s hands. The Padre has 
 smuggled out a few mementos saved from the thieving 
 Spanish soldiery; but thanks be to the Virgin." The 
 old man drew out a letter: "Guerra has now found 
 the lost box. Under the altar of the old chapel which 
 was wrecked lately in an earthquake Fernando 
 Aguilar had stored the fated secret. I live but to gain 
 once more the pardon of the church. For my Inez s 
 hand will be the stainless one. I will atone. The 
 curse will pass away. The emeralds ! the emeralds! " 
 
 Then the doctor bent over his patient, who sank 
 back senseless.
 
 34 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE VEILED SECRET OF THE LEADEN CASKET. 
 
 Two days later, Mrs. Agnes Lorimer, serenely happy, 
 listened to Dr. Nixon s triumphant account of Don 
 Josh s rapid amelioration. 
 
 But one pang rent the heart of the proud, young 
 physician. He was ready to depart on the morrow 
 with the lank, old, yellow shadow, Basilio, to drum up 
 the two flighty young Cubans and hasten the padre s 
 coming. To obtain his own month s leave wis a mere 
 formality, but to leave, for even three short days, Miss 
 Ethel filled his bosom with most unwarranted mis 
 givings. 
 
 "It is certain," said Mrs. Lorimer, "that the Don 
 needs counsel and friendship. He is as simple as a 
 child, and it is to you," she gazed on the two ardent 
 young men, "to you alone he can look for loyal back 
 ing. Munoz is liable to the temptations of the Spanish 
 Government. The priest I never liked, and I feel that 
 we three women will find our metier in watching him 
 The young men, Felipe and Juan, are practically use 
 less. So General Romero must look to us for the 
 support which will lead him to his shadowy emerald 
 crown." 
 
 To cheer the recluse, Frank Lorimer had promised 
 to remain as his companion. Sundry thoughts of Inez s 
 dainty fingers waking the chords of her guitar made 
 Lorimer quite resigned to his term of homeguard duty. 
 And, later, there was a perfect Nirvana of satisfaction 
 on the gravely professional face of Dr. Nixon as he 
 "threw physic to the dogs," and hovered in the draw 
 ing-room while Miss Ethel intoned a ditty exactly 
 suited to his fond imaginings. 
 
 " I need no moon or stars to guide me! " its some 
 what florid words began. They took a new significance 
 when borne aloft on the waves of that fresh young
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 35 
 
 voice and seemed to beat at the very gates of Doctor 
 Jim s soul. 
 
 Next morning, with many flourishes of diplomatic 
 courtesy and some measured sage counsel of a soothing 
 nature, he left the General waving his sombrero like 
 the banner of Spain in the hands of a, champion as he 
 drove away to the station with old Basilio sitting 
 behind him in the dogcart, his unsubstantial nankeens 
 flapping over his shrunken shanks his air of resigned 
 melancholy the faded grace of self-surrender to a 
 master s will recalling the days of Cervantes. The 
 old servitor rolled his cigarito in storm and sunshine, 
 submitting himself to the care of God. 
 
 His bearing was that of the ark, with the manners 
 of the seventeenth century, and yet, in his own 
 dreamy, listless way, he rattled around like an 
 animated skeleton, noiselessly anticipating the slightest 
 wish of the one he served. 
 
 " I hope you will not see any of your medical 
 friends in the train," laughed Frank. "They will 
 accuse you of galvanizing a corpse from the Cathedral 
 churchyard of La Habana. " 
 
 " He is a funny old relic," muttered Doctor James, 
 whose mind was intent upon the euphony of Ethel 
 Nixon, as a matron s name in the days to come. The 
 happy days! When patients with plethoric purse and 
 judiciously variegated disorders would throng his ante 
 rooms. 
 
 And so it was that in a happy daydream Doctor Nixon 
 reached his office in Gotham. He had even now a local 
 habitation and a name in modest gilded letters. 
 Unfortunate wanderers might here discern that "James 
 Nixon " sported M. D. by virtue of private worth and 
 due public license. 
 
 Doctor William Abercromby, who shared Nixon s 
 office, shouted in glee as his friend entered followed by 
 Basilio. Abercromby was an ingenious youth, a friend 
 of friends, whose one treason to Jimmy Nixon was the 
 secret capture of the first patient. It is true that Aber 
 cromby only gravely shook his watchchain and bowed 
 as the sufferer, with trembling hand clattering the 
 knob, asked, humbly: " Is the doctor in ?"
 
 36 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Twas a youth, resplendent the day before when hfc 
 sallied forth with crimson colors and hope in his heart 
 good store of the green shekels of the realm in his 
 pocket to see the "football game." " Standing with 
 reluctant feet, " the patient could merely confess that 
 he had a "fearful head on him." In exchange for a 
 crisp five-dollar bill, he received the secret sympathy oi 
 Doctor Abercromby and the just proportions of a dose 
 of bromide, preceded by the cabalistic R, and proudly 
 followed by the menacing flourish of "William Aber^ 
 cromby, M. D." 
 
 Then the generous traitor, after debating upon the 
 propriety of framing this " firstling of fortune," "blew 
 it in " with his great colleague, Nixon. And the mantle 
 of Elisha and that of Elijah were both cut after the 
 same pattern. 
 
 The patient Basilio was sent forth with carefully ar 
 ranged orders how to gather in young Felipe and Juan, 
 two boys whose principal duty in life was vacantly gaz 
 ing over the footlights of the Casino and Koster & Bial s ; 
 their soft, fierce, panther-like eyes glowing approvingly 
 upon various members of the star-kicking ballet, who 
 had dubbed the two lads "Partaga" and " Henry Clay. " 
 
 Doctor Nixon sat all the afternoon at the feet of 
 one of those men simply great and modestly cautious, 
 who hold up the grandest of all professions, far above 
 its quacks, pretenders and itinerants. 
 
 "My dear Nixon," said the expert, " you interest 
 me in this case. There is either a truth or a fiction 
 here. From what you tell me of the refined spiritual 
 ity of the old Don, you must beware how you suddenly 
 sweep away the dreams which have haunted his dark 
 ened soul! A rude shock might overthrow the old 
 General s mind. A bitter disappointment would simply 
 crumble him up in a lifeless heap. Your role is more 
 that of a watchman than a physician!" 
 
 After a long consultation, reinforced by his senior s 
 experience, Doctor James returned to his office, where 
 he found Basilio the wise, gliding furtively about the 
 hallway, lest by the way of the nearest saloon the 
 thoughtless youths whom he had succeeded in finding 
 would gravitate back to the "Tenderloin!"
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 37 
 
 A small pagan in dirty blue and an unnecessarily 
 large cap handed Doctor Jim a telegram from the 
 Merchants Exchange agency. Its contents, "Steamer 
 Santiago de Cuba coming in passed Sandy Hook 3 P.M. 
 At wharf at nine," decided the young man with two 
 saffron colored elephants on his hands to take these 
 eel-like captives to the club for dinner! 
 
 "Noblesse oblige!" he murmured. "They cannot 
 run away from the table!" 
 
 Nixon had an opportunity to quietly examine the 
 youngsters while he closed his slender office duties. 
 There was no doubt as to "which was the merchant and 
 which the Jew!" Though Felipe Romero was as point 
 edly listless as his companion, his spirited graceful 
 face with its oval curves, his soft manner, proud and 
 yet winning, his elegant figure and delicate hands 
 marked him as the caballero. He was evidently led by 
 his ame damne e Juan Valdes, a robust, heavy set youth, 
 with high cheek bones, a malignant scowl and the halt 
 ing, hesitating manner of the mestizo half sycophant, 
 half spy. The gleaming white teeth, heavy jaw and 
 oblique eyes, with a long, muscular arm, showed a dash 
 of the wild blood of the Sierra Indians. Nixon smiled 
 as he verified the furtive glance and peering manners 
 of Juan. 
 
 "A heredity of bending around the tree trunk to 
 throw the spear or shoot the bow. A modern savage 
 but half tamed. If the uncle resembles the nephew he 
 is by no means a prototype of Sandalphon, the angel 
 of prayer," mused Doctor Jim. "A sort of ghostly 
 confessor who might stand the sinner up in a dark 
 place on earth and go through him, before consigning 
 his spiritual elements to the rotary furnaces of the 
 place Mr. Beecher took no stock in. Yet, rugged 
 and intelligent enough. I may mistake the sturdy 
 cross-blood for a malignant strain." 
 
 Tobacco, that great civilizer and open sesame of 
 friendship, brought them all on the plane of an easy 
 modus vivendi, while waiting for the "Santiago de 
 Cuba " to dock. 
 
 " There is my uncle," suddenly blurted out Juan .as 
 he lurched forward to the side of a heavily built, dark-
 
 38 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 faced man of middle age. The broad-brimmed straw 
 hat, long alpaca coat and Roman collar bespoke the 
 priest on his travels. 
 
 "Your father ?" demanded Padre Viciente Guerra 
 in a tone of authority, turning to Felipe, as Juan laid 
 hands listlessly upon the stout bag in the priest s hand. 
 
 "He has been sick. He is all right now, " carelessly 
 said Felipe. " This gentleman is his physician, and 
 has a message for you." 
 
 The padre bowed with attentive humility. The sul 
 len brow, the determined chin, the bold, high cheek 
 bone of the nephew were there, but dark lights deep 
 ened the ugly glint of the padre s eyes. In one side 
 long sweep he had sized up the young American, and 
 Nixon felt the shiver which the touch of a serpent 
 brings. 
 
 " One of the wise ones the dangerous ones a man 
 in whom there is no mercy, if no guile," decided 
 Doctor Jim, and their instinctively hostile natures rec 
 ognized a born feud of antagonism. "There is the 
 brazen corselet beneath the strong man s gown," 
 decided Nixon, and the alarm clock of his nature was 
 ringing out, "Beware !" before the two seniors had 
 exchanged a few words of mutual explanation. Then 
 Nixon frankly said: "Padre Viciente, have you the 
 missing papers ? It is almost vital to Don Jose s cure 
 that you should join him at once. We might take the 
 midnight train and you could be with him in the morn 
 ing. I will go back with you." 
 
 The priest replied evasively and coldly: "I need 
 rest. I am also charged with some missions of the 
 Church. I must go now to the hotel frequented by 
 the foreign clergy. Moreover, the tidings of Los 
 Olmos are for the ear of Don Jos alone." 
 
 Doctor Nixon had not caught the full chilling offen- 
 siveness of the father s manner. The mestizo s pride 
 had been hardened by domination over the flock which 
 lingered near the vacant halls of " Los Olmos." 
 
 " But he has told me all," cordially insisted Nixon. 
 
 "Then, Senor, there rests nothing for me to say, " 
 defiantly remarked the padre. " I will go alone to my 
 inn, and to-morrow night I will arrive at Villa Romero.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 39 
 
 You may say so, if you return to my friend and your 
 patient." 
 
 James Nixon s face flushed, but he restrained any 
 impatient retort, thinking it would be a poor debut to 
 quarrel with this insolent cleric. "And why should I? 
 Jealous and proud of his success, he may wish yet to 
 reign over the hacienda of Los Olmosat Jibacoa ! He 
 may yet long for the time when the Romeros may reign 
 in the old prestige ! " 
 
 So Nixon gently said: "As you will. I only wish 
 to have the General s mind relieved as soon as possi 
 ble. Shall I leave these young men with you ? For I 
 return to Edgecliff early to-morrow." 
 
 <l Yes, my friend," rather pleasantly answered the 
 mollified padre. I need to discipline this wild truant, 
 Juan. As for Felipe, there is much he can tell me, which 
 will spare fatigue to Don Jose. General Romero is my 
 penitent. What he tells you of his secret is his to give. 
 What I might say would be an indiscretion, perhaps 
 a treason." 
 
 Doctor Nixon was nonplussed. The oily fluency of 
 the stubborn looking padre showed him a master of 
 human diplomacy. Though ruling a small world, his 
 flock an humble one, yet the wary duplicity of Spanish 
 official life, the easy winking blindness of the Cuban 
 social entoinage, the play of the ardent passions of 
 three generations, trembling under his voice, gave to 
 Viciente Guerra the whole range of that wonderful 
 theatre the human heart. And as master, backed 
 with the thunders of the Church, he reigned over the 
 seething whirlpool of human passions by the silver 
 sands of Matanzas Bay. 
 
 Nixon saw that the priest knew his power. He 
 turned and left them in the night, the boys lurking 
 with eyes eager for escape near the stern padre, who 
 now clutched the substantial portmanteau which Juan 
 had listlessly thrown down under a pile of cigar boxes, 
 parroquet cages, bananas and the worthless travel 
 trash with which tourists will make themselves guys. 
 Standing there in the surging throng of hotel cabmen 
 and custom officials, Viciente Guerra guarded in his 
 broad strong hand the precious deposit which the
 
 40 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 earthquake shock had exposed in its hiding place under 
 the altar of Jibacoa. 
 
 "They are a nice lot of picturesque vignettes of 
 Cuban development," muttered Nixon. " Never mind, 
 I will keep my weather eye fixed on you, mi padre 
 querido. " 
 
 And Doctor Jim calmly said : " Hasta Manana ! " and 
 went off alone to dream of Ethel Lorimer, the golden- 
 haired. 
 
 The next day while Nixon lingered in the hours 
 of a summer afternoon preparing the now wildly-excited 
 General for the momentous interview, he listened to 
 the gentle cooing of Lorimer and Inez on the sheltered 
 veranda. 
 
 Madame Lorimer and Ethel had learned in a brief 
 council of the guarded coldness of the padre. "That s 
 his way," lightly remarked Frank. " A sort of human 
 dagger, he gets into one s heart and works around 
 to make a place for himself." 
 
 " Yes, " said the gentle widow; "he is a powerful 
 man, of self-control, and one whom I distrust a man 
 always to be watched, and who could be dangerous, 
 too, I fear." 
 
 " Gracias a Dies! He has come! " cried Don Jose", 
 striding up and down the room in his restless march. 
 "I shall soon know all. Why did he not come right 
 up here with you ? " 
 
 Nixon very fairly reported the priest s official neces 
 sities, but was unable to add that at that very moment 
 Padre Viciente Guerra and the Spanish Consul-Gen- 
 eral were double locked in the library of that official s 
 residence in New York. When the priest rose to 
 depart for the train the Consul-General whispered : "If 
 you succeed, if you are true to us, you will yet be the 
 Bishop of Matanzas. A glittering promotion! " 
 
 And so at last all the secrets of the leaden casket, and 
 some others untold for years, arrived with the black- 
 browed padre, who strode over the threshold of Villa 
 Romero with the air of a master at the late hour of 
 ten that night. He had brought the two young wolves 
 of Tenderloin society back, awed if not tamed, and, 
 with a perfunctory greeting of parental blandness, he
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 41 
 
 passed Inez over to the welcome society of El Senor 
 Abogado Lorimer. There was a quiet relegation to 
 his professional sphere, in the attitude of the priest 
 to Nixon. 
 
 Then, amid the unwonted bustle of the lonely house, 
 the sound of earnest voices was audible until two 
 o clock in Don Jose s own sleeping room. The padre 
 was lodged in a chamber adjoining, and the doctor 
 at last, fearful of harm and wearied out, called a halt, 
 and, entering authoritatively, sent the old General to 
 his nightly rest. 
 
 The eyes of the veteran shone out in a dangerous 
 brilliancy, his hand was fevered, as he whispered, 
 with superstitious subjection: "Come to me early, 
 my son. I will then tell you all." 
 
 Padre Viciente had now donned his long black robe 
 the invincible armor of the Church and flitted along 
 like a ghostly spectre to his room, in silence, with a 
 grave inclination of his head. In a moment his voice 
 was heard in the routine of his breviary, and secure 
 within his fortified lines, the Cuban padre was thus 
 ready to take up the fight which priests and doctors 
 have waged from time immemorial in the gloomy arr, )hi- 
 theater of the rooms of the sick, the dying and the 
 dead. For, between them, they have always -the 
 last word. 
 
 The old manor house of Edgecliff sheltered tour 
 weary heads that night, twisting uneasily on their pil 
 lows. To Nixon s astonishment when Frank Lorimer 
 reined up the Mambrino mare at the door, the mother 
 and daughter were hovering still awake in the great 
 hallway like Peris on guard at the forbidden gates. 
 
 " Tell us ! tell us ! " cried both ladies in a breath. 
 
 Dr. Nixon gravely replied, "To-morrow." 
 
 It was a hard fate, a poor return for all their 
 watchful sympathy. Mrs. Lorimer nodded away 
 bedward murmuring, " I do not like this delay." 
 While Ethel pouteda "good morning," in place of a 
 "good night." "I only hope the dear old Don 
 will surely find the emeralds, and that Inez will have 
 bushels of gold." 
 
 This hearty exaggeration of schoolmate love made
 
 42 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 James Nixon smile as he laid his tired head upon his 
 pillow. 
 
 "I shall have trouble with the padre!" grumbled 
 Doctor Jim, as he hurled his raiment all around in the 
 wild freedom of the bachelor. "But I will make it a 
 waiting fight! So, go in now brother Viciente, and 
 take the first innings! " 
 
 He was slightly startled on approaching Villa 
 Romero the next morning at the sound of irregular 
 fusillade in the sheltered grounds of the old mansion. 
 He turned inquiring eyes to Frank, who said with an 
 air of experience: "Only those two young Cuban 
 devils practicing with their revolvers ! Now cometh 
 the sons of Belial; for the farmers in a radius of ten 
 miles know these two imps of Satan ! Two things they 
 can do smoke endless cigarettes, and ride the horses 
 picked up in the pastures, half to death ; for a hair 
 "riata" noose serves them to manage any four legged 
 thing in sight. The old General will have a soulful 
 time. Between the black raven perching at his side, 
 keeping up his croak of the olden days, and this picket 
 guard of the devil, his nerves will soon settle for good 
 over there! " 
 
 And Frank pointed to the gleaming tombstones of 
 the Fishkill village cemetery, as he flicked the Mam- 
 brino racing along in the crisp summer morning. 
 "I ve an idea, Buster, ne quietly said, "that you had 
 better let Padre Viciente have the cards and the deal! 
 Pardon my profane simile ! Play a waiting game ! The 
 cloven foot will peep out from under that flapping robe 
 at last! I ll have Inez put old Basilic on also to watch 
 the priest, for the old spectral servant is muy 
 sabbio, and don t you forget it! " 
 
 "What do you fear, Frank ?" questioned Nixon. 
 
 "I ll tell you," sharply said Lorimer, "I propose 
 to see that Inez gets all that belongs to her, in law 
 and right." 
 
 The rogue blushed and then closely examined his 
 whip stock. "This man has too much vim for a 
 padre. For him to live without a purpose would be an 
 impossibility. I know what occupancy and enjoy 
 ment mean. Now Padre Viciente (I speak after the
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 43 
 
 manner of the flesh) is a big-bug down there on 
 the coral reefs of Matanzas, and rules the roost 
 just as long as Don Jose is proscribed. Vale Don 
 Jose! where Felipe and Inez come in! Felipe will die 
 of a knife thrust, or in some uncanny way. He 
 fears nothing but any form of useful work. Inez 
 will then be helpless. The ultimate destination of the 
 Romero estates is to enrich the Church, the viceregal 
 treasury, and the collateral family of the padre. He 
 will meantime enjoy it in their name." 
 
 "You maybe correct," said the laughing doctor. 
 "There is a sweet serenity in Padre Viciente s smile 
 which tells me he will be heard from, when the subject 
 is dissected." 
 
 " Right you are! " remarked Frank. " And he will 
 want the best slice. "Do you note how the padre 
 sprung to his work, like a star actor belated in arriv 
 ing at a one-night stand ? " 
 
 "Yes. He layeth hold with his hands like the 
 spider which is in king s palaces," gloomily remarked 
 Nixon. " And Inez will she not work against these 
 possible schemes ? " 
 
 Frank Lorimer burst out: "She is the simplest, 
 dearest, sweetest, most unsuspecting " 
 
 "Skip all that! " sternly said Nixon. " Keep to the 
 solid facts." 
 
 Then Lorimer s eyes gleamed wrathfully as he 
 descended again to earth. "The padre will go through 
 that simple-minded girl s store of knowledge like 
 a burglar into a bank vault. She can only trust, love 
 and suffer. And, besides, you see Felipe is no earthly 
 good." 
 
 Nixon bowed. " Save to the jewelers, florists and 
 tobacco merchants of New York and the chorus of 
 the Casino. You and I must stand by the old Don 
 for" 
 
 There was a silence, in which the free hands clasped 
 and the hiatus could have been filled by the bracketed 
 insertion: 
 
 Inez s 
 
 Ethel s f Sake! 
 I must trust all to your coolness," whispered. Lcn-
 
 44 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 mer, as Inez, tenderly clinging to her father s arm, 
 came out to them. 
 
 " Papa is so eager so excited ! I am so happy that 
 you are here ! " she cried, while her animated face 
 expressed far more than her words. 
 
 In five minutes James Nixon had led the Don to a 
 shaded nook under the chestnuts, where he trifled with 
 a morning coffee, while the General began his relation. 
 
 " I feel myself ten years younger, hijo mio . " exult 
 antly chuckled the veteran. "It is a wonder a 
 wonder of the Blessed Virgin! In my absence Padre 
 Viciente has had the entire control of the whole plan 
 tations as well as the house of Los Olmos. A 
 government overseer and a guard sent by the Alcalde 
 of Jibacoa have attended to the making of the sugar 
 crop, and prevented all further spoliation. In these 
 long years my untiring friend has vainly searched for 
 the faintest trace of family papers undiscovered. For 
 all the archives, save the Paris records, were removed 
 and despoiled by the legal authorities of the Crown 
 at Havana. Nothing nothing rewarded Viciente s 
 examination of every piece of old furniture, of all the 
 rooms; even the wainscot and floors has he probed 
 with care. When the great earthquake of last month 
 came, however, the first thought of the good priest 
 was to run to the chapel where the frightened women 
 and children had all gathered. There the l.igh altar 
 was lying prone. It had fallen backward, and, marvel 
 of marvels, none of the sacred vessels or its treasures 
 were seriously injured. 
 
 "The displaced stones of the three steps unheaved 
 showed a small crypt beneath the altar, which had 
 been reached by a trench through the foundations of 
 the rear wall. This had caused the overturning of 
 the altar, while the chapel itself stood firm. The good 
 padre, clearing the church for the rearrangement of 
 the sacred objects, alone approached the ruined 
 shrine. Astonished, he beheld within the exposed 
 crypt a stone block, apparently hollow, but closed by 
 a slab. He thought the stone receptacle perhaps con 
 tained the ashes of the dead ; but the shattered slab dis 
 closed a flat leaden casket or case. It was still firmly
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 45 
 
 clamped, riveted and sealed. This precious deposit he 
 has brought to me intact. It was a struggle of con 
 science with my friend. But his fidelity to the Rome 
 ros at last triumphed. The origin of the secrets 
 there hidden date far back, beyond my own outlawry or 
 proscription! For even Fernando Aguilar was amnes 
 tied in his capacity as noble and warrior, and only 
 took the common ban of the Maracaibo anathema 
 maranatha to the grave with him! So, under pretense 
 of effecting the repairs to the consecrated chapel, 
 Padre Viciente came to me with the unvoiced story of 
 the past! We opened the case together last night! " 
 
 "And you know all now?" eagerly asked Doctor 
 Nixon. 
 
 "Alas! my son," groaned the feeble General, whose 
 clock of life was now running slowly under the relaxed 
 excitement, "I know but half the story! The docu 
 ment is in the obscure old Spanish The only thing 
 found in the case, save a jewel which we estimated to 
 be of great value! Padre Viciente suggests its being 
 sent to Spain to be compared with documents of the 
 time by the priests of the church. I will leave it with 
 you to examine! Perhaps your young eyes may dis 
 cover some key word ! I see the padre is beckoning 
 to me! It is the hour for my morning devotions so 
 long interrupted! " And the veteran tenderly placed a 
 folded document wrapped in folds of silk upon the 
 table. 
 
 Doctor Jim s hands trembled nervously as he unrolled 
 the covering! By hazard his eyes strayed to the 
 veranda, where the padre stood glaring at his profes- 
 fessional opponent from the door. There was no mis 
 taking the reluctance with which the priest followed 
 the tottering old General into the house! 
 
 " I must be a lively-witted man, or this padre will 
 close and bar the door of the past. Once in his hands, 
 the paper might be kept from me. If sent to Spain, it 
 may be artfully lost on the voyage. Dare I copy it ? 
 Have I the right ? And I might even then miss the 
 key-note of the hidden mystery." 
 
 He reverently handled the four sheets of parchment 
 which bore, in antique Spanish flourishes, the sign
 
 46 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 manual of the unfortunate Fernando Aguilar. The ink 
 was black and the quill made characters still sharp and 
 clear. He retired into a summer-house and spread out 
 the silken scarf on a table, carefully depositing the four 
 leaves thereon. The rattle of wheels aroused him. 
 
 "Where are you going, Frank?" he called to his 
 chum. 
 
 "To the village with Miss Romero," replied Lori- 
 mer. " I am going to see the photographer. I want 
 some scenes and groups taken." 
 
 Doctor Nixon sprang to his feet. " Come over here 
 as quick as you can," he called in a strange voice, 
 which made Lorimer spring across the lawn. 
 
 " What has happened ? " cried the briefless lawyer. 
 
 "I am a fool that s all. And it will keep on hap 
 pening as long as I live." With this Nixon whispered 
 several sentences in Frank s ear which awoke all the 
 dormant activity in that youth. In three minutes 
 the cloud of flying dust in the glen alone told that the 
 Mambrino mare was doing almost a racing pace. 
 
 When Miss Inez appeared on the veranda ready for 
 her coveted ride there was sweet wonder in her eyes as 
 she saw not her Lochinvar. 
 
 "He will be back in a short time," apologized Doc 
 tor Jim; "a sudden telegram demands an instant 
 answer, and lam charged to beg you to kindly wait for 
 him." 
 
 The pouting damsel was fain to be content with a 
 morning visit to her silent friends, the fragrant 
 roses of Villa Romero, while Doctor Nixon, with his 
 watch on the table, counted the minutes as he glanced 
 over the stately words of the old chronicle. These 
 took his mind back to the wild days of the seventeenth 
 century as he pored over the quaint characters of the 
 old legend. It seemed as if the breath of the past was 
 sighing mournfully in the trees. "It will take me at 
 least a week to decipher all this, and will I ever see it 
 again ? " 
 
 The young man thought anxiously, but his heart 
 bounded as Frank Lorimer came striding over the flower 
 beds. 
 
 "Walk up to the stable! Quick! He is there in the
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 47 
 
 harness room ! I will stay here and hold the fort with 
 Inez! When you are done, come out and stand in the 
 stable door. I will be on the watch and join you. 
 Thompson is a good fellow and as quick as chain light 
 ning! " 
 
 Doctor Nixon walked smartly to the stable, holding 
 the precious leaves hidden under his coat, and was de 
 lighted to see inside it a young fellow, whose Romeo 
 air and oiled locks bespoke the village photographer, 
 who exclaimed with a nervous air as he quietly locked 
 the front door : All ready, sir ! I ll do you up in fifteen 
 minutes! " 
 
 The implements of his magic art were scattered 
 around on the benches. There was nothing of the 
 " higher orders " in the flashy garb, the stained fingers 
 and imitation diamond pin of the artist, but he swung 
 his landscape camera at once into place with the calm 
 air of a master of the art! " I brought along a dozen 
 boxed plates, and all you have to do is to follow my 
 directions." 
 
 Swinging open the rear door quickly for light, 
 and whipping out a dozen sheets of varied col 
 ored back-ground paper, the photographer sprang to 
 his work! When he glanced at his watch in triumph 
 as he snapped the last negative case and cried: 
 "Twelve in seventeen minutes! Not so bad! Now, sir, 
 if you will stand in the door of the stable and call up 
 Squire Frank, I ll have all these things over the fence 
 and hidden away in the bushes in two minutes. Mr. 
 Lorimer will take my cases over to his house. My boy 
 is on the way with my own trap, and in two hours 
 I will have developed these negatives and leave them 
 safely locked up in Mr. Lorimer s room. I can come 
 up to-morrow to Edgecliff and print you off a bushel of 
 them. I suppose you do not wish the negatives 
 touched." 
 
 "Not a line! not a spot!" imperatively cried Nixon. 
 " I will pay you for all your extra trouble." 
 
 " You can t do that," laughed Thompson. " Squire 
 Frank has given me a twenty dollar bill, and so I am 
 squared forever! I will tell you, though, one of 
 these leaves has been damaged. Somebody has scraped
 
 48 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 out some of the words, and I call you to witness that 
 I never touched the parchments. I suppose they could 
 not rub out any words once traced, and had to shave a 
 clean place. You can easily tell where the words were 
 altered. Hold it up to the light! The thin spots show! 
 I saw them at once, as I took a glimpse of the nega 
 tives. It s on the third sheet you gave me." 
 
 Lorimer came striding up the gravel walk ! There was 
 nothing in the deserted harness-room five minutes later 
 to indicate that the room had been a temple of Daguerre s 
 mystic shadow picturing. When the half mollified 
 Senorita Inez smiled back at Doctor Nixon, he was 
 standing with the precious manuscript pressed to his 
 bosom. 
 
 " It is for you for your future ! " he murmured. " I 
 fancy Padre Viciente has lost a trick this very morning! 
 Scalpel against gown! I shall not oppose your father 
 confiding the document to the experts of the Church! " 
 
 And as he then took his seat in the arbor under the 
 gleaming rays of the summer morning sun he care 
 fully examined the shaved parchment leaf. The thin 
 spots were invisible to the naked eye, and only by 
 holding it up to the brilliant lightcould the difference of 
 shade of the background be seen. There were four 
 words on the page which seemed to have been care 
 fully erased or written over a thinner place. Unfamil 
 iar with the text, the volunteer expert could not at 
 tach any meaning to them as yet. 
 
 The sound of voices suddenly startled him. "It 
 will be his game to politely regain possession of the 
 document! This may be my last chance i " 
 
 And drawing out his notebook Nixon traced a 
 fac-simile of each word, in position as found, with 
 little regard to the context. A blank line on either 
 side indicated the relative position of the words on the 
 page and their sequence. 
 
 Hastily shutting his notebook, he thrust it in his 
 bosom as the padre came swiftly striding up to him, 
 over the fragrant grass. 
 
 James Nixon s morning salutation was most court 
 eously received and the two men then rejoined the 
 General, who lay extended in a hammock swaying
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 49 
 
 gently in the sunlight. The veteran s eyes gleamed 
 anxiously as the young doctor neared him ! 
 
 "You have read it ? " he said. 
 
 "Ah! " replied Nixon, "it will require some study 
 on my part to decipher its whole meaning. If the padre 
 would read it to me it would save me perhaps a week 
 of study and delay. His life spent among the records 
 of the church makes him your only counselor in this 
 very grave affair." 
 
 The gentle flattery of the remark, and the evident 
 desire not to meddle, pleased the churchman mightly. 
 
 "We have much to confer about, Senor Don Jose" 
 and myself ! " courteously replied Padre Viciente. 
 "This evening, if you will honor me, lean give you 
 from eight to twelve." 
 
 "That will suit me exactly!" good-humoredly re 
 marked Doctor Jim, "and I will therefore return and 
 visit my patient at that time." 
 
 " A sus ordenes, por la tarde ! " murmured the priest 
 as the doctor turned to go, after a few words of general 
 medical direction. There was no mistaking the gleam 
 of quiet satisfaction with which the churchman saw the 
 field abandoned to him alone. 
 
 " I think I will now let you play your little game 
 in the lead," mused Nixon as he strode happily along. 
 
 It suddenly occurred to him that an exploration 
 of the environs of Edgecliff, under the guidance of 
 Miss Ethel, would increase his store of revolutionary 
 memories. " Nothing like going over the ground with 
 one intelligent person." " The intelligent person " at 
 that very moment was straining her eyes, like Sister 
 Anne, to see the form of the returning guest. Doctor 
 Jim, pausing in his slashing stride down the leafy lanes, 
 bethought him of his notebook. As his eye fell upon 
 one of the pages he had copied he started. There in 
 the form of a cross were arranged the four words: 
 
 Debajo puerta "- 
 
 mayor. 
 
 " Under the great door," mused James Nixon, as he 
 stood there. 
 
 " What is under the great door ? " It rushed upon
 
 gO HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 his mind that the quaint self-accusation of the old 
 cavalier turned freebooter had been confined to telling 
 a part of the story, only; in the recital now in the 
 priest s hands. 
 
 "I have it !" cried Nixon. "The secret of the 
 Leaden Casket ! There is another deposit, perhaps the 
 stolen spoil of Maracaibo, under the great door! 
 And so for centuries the foot of the friend and the 
 stranger may have trodden over the fruit of crime and 
 the origin of the curse of the Romeros. This is a 
 happy accident of the village photographer s discovery. 
 He is a sharp fellow. Perhaps the sly priest may not 
 find it. The words need to be read together as a 
 whole apart from the body of the document, to have a 
 clear meaning. I will trust only to Frank. If 
 I tell the poor priest-ridden General, the ghostly 
 confessor will worm the story out. What if he should 
 visit Los Olmos the first and at once remove the deposit, 
 or instantly so instruct his agents down there now? 
 Some one of us must get there before him he must be 
 flattered and detained here, and then once in our hands 
 with the treasure or the remaining part of the story of 
 the past we could checkmate this moody priest. 
 Frank, Inez, myself who could go ? Our absence for 
 any length of time could not be well explained. There 
 is but one who might be trusted, if a loyal drop of 
 blood is in him. It is Felipe. For the sour-faced 
 padre is surely no frend of his. When I have grasped 
 the full import of the story, after the conference of 
 to-night, I can decide ! " was Nixon s conclusion as he 
 strode up the green lawns of Edgecliff. 
 
 A golden-haired watcher awaited him, but the birds 
 seemed to be twittering : "Felipe must go ! Felipe 
 must go ! "
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 51 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FELIPE S QUEST. 
 
 FRANK LORIMER was busied with other matters than 
 old legends on that tete-a-tete ride. The enchanting 
 flashes of two Spanish eyes drew the young man s heart 
 far away from the fan palms, the mango groves and 
 orange shades of Los Olmos in the golden hours of the 
 happy afternoon ! 
 
 Lorimer had said to Nixon as he prepared to escort 
 Miss Inez hdmeward : "I do not like to leave Don 
 Jose cooped up always alone with the raven of the 
 Antilles? So I ll take the Senorita back. I have set 
 Inez to watch his every movement. I think, in the 
 grave state of the General s health, that she should 
 now be made acquainted at once with all the future 
 resources of the family and her coming responsibilities. 
 Felipe belongs to the class the villagers designate here 
 as of no earthly good! I ve charged her to find 
 out about the padre s probable stay, and to also sound 
 the General daily as to all proposed movements. Now. 
 Thompson has already fixed his negatives, and he says 
 that they are remarkably good. I will be in the room, 
 or rather, on the roof, with him to-morrow, and see 
 that he prints only two good proofs of each. The 
 plates shall not leave my sight. In the meantime, 
 Buster, they are now safe with two Yale locks as 
 guardians in the closet where I have enshrined my 
 tresses of hair, old slippers, dried bouquets, photo 
 graphs, and all the poor trophies of my college 
 career." 
 
 "It must be a large, very large closet !" suggested 
 Nixon. 
 
 " Ah! not so large! " retorted Lorimer. " Young- 
 man-afraid-of-his-record has very few scalps on his 
 belt. I am but a poor Don Juan. . My own austere 
 life proves that." 
 
 "Take your austere life away with you and mend
 
 52 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 your ways," laughed Nixon. "I am going out 
 riding. As for you, I can easily see whither you are 
 drifting." 
 
 If Doctor Nixon did not attain a fair idea of the 
 legendary history of the Fishkill valley on his after 
 noon drive it was not for want of time given to the 
 subject. His close attention to the words of his lovely 
 cicerone was remarkable, yet he lingered not upon 
 the traces of the men who nobly fought that we might 
 be free. The spectacle of Ethel Lorimer, her graceful 
 form swaying at his side, her soft voice rippling in 
 music, the dreamy afternoon sunshine, the breath of 
 flowers and the hum of bees carried out of his mind 
 the visionary men in blue and buff 
 
 " The brave Continentals 
 
 In their ragged regimentals ! " 
 
 For, near him, the golden-haired child of Vassar 
 brought into his life a living picture of love-tinted blue 
 and gold. They wandered along under green apple 
 boughs, while the pony nibbled aimlessly at the sweet 
 clover of the country roads. The scene was peaceful 
 and lulling. Yet the cardiac disturbances were vastly 
 increased, as they drove homeward. 
 
 It was not necessary that the son of ^Esculapius 
 should fall into love. He was gently drifting down 
 the tide drifting with a beautiful woman at his side, 
 to where the waters meet and flow on to join the river 
 of life seeking the unknown sea ! 
 
 It was in the absence of Frank Lorimer, a willing 
 prisoner at Villa Romero, that Nixon dined, his mind 
 centered upon the evening tryst with the oily church 
 man. 
 
 " I will be as wax in his hands," mused Doctor Jim, 
 "and yet be as sly as the little darky who won t say 
 nuffin to nobody. Padre Viciente will find out later that 
 I can keep the secret of the leaden casket not dig it up 
 out of the flourishes of the document. Should this 
 treasure, itself, be discovered there are two dangers 
 before us. Don Jose, a proscribed rebel, may not legally 
 claim any treasure trove. He is powerless ! Cuba 
 Libre has laid him out forever. Pardon to him is 
 out of the question. Again, if the emeralds should
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 53 
 
 really prove a find of value, they would either be 
 claimed by the Church, or petered through the priest s 
 hands, and very little would reach Inez. The old Don s 
 anxiety for her future shows that he may have but a 
 slender store left of the necessary evil the all-pow 
 erful shekels ! : 
 
 James Nixon was not astonished to find General 
 Romero sleeping the exhausted sleep of a worn and 
 wearied man when he reached the villa. The padre 
 was already pacing the library in some expectation. He 
 raised his head in a grave salutation as the doctor 
 passed into the Don s room. The long gown and 
 clasped arms, with the singularly awkward headgear of 
 his grade, " left the shadows floating on the floor. " 
 
 It was patent to the doctor that this Cuban had 
 come to stay, that the whole household obeyed him, 
 and that no one dared oppose his slightest wish. The 
 old man was lying on his couch under the picture of 
 the dear dead woman who had guarded his dreams so 
 long. A gray shadow, lingering reluctant at death s 
 half-opened door he seemed, and now in his sleep, he 
 stirred and murmured: "Inez! Pobre. Inez! Mi 
 querida !" 
 
 James Nixon sighed and muttered: 
 
 " The way was dark, the night was cold, 
 The minstrel was infirm and old. 
 
 He is on his lonely way to join the choir invisible." 
 And in the hope of serving the despoiled heiress of 
 the decayed old line, the unhappy Romero, the 
 American joined the priest as the bell chimed eight. 
 
 "I will read you now this fearful record, Senor," 
 said the priest, as he seated himself at a table, 
 where the precious old document lay in readiness. 
 " As the representative of the General I only ask that 
 you will make no private notes of this grave communi 
 cation. There are before him long days, weeks, years 
 of atonement for this vast impiety, imposed by the 
 Almighty upon the innocent ones who bear the name 
 of Romero." 
 
 " I will endeavor to shorten their penance," energet 
 ically decided the doctor, as he placed himself where the 
 light would show him every movement of the priest s face.
 
 54 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 "I will give you each sheet to read after me, 
 Senor," chanted the padre in his impassive monotone, 
 "that you may verify my poor elucidation. It seems 
 all simple enough, but, alas! this secret is only the 
 story of another secret, and two days have given me 
 so far no key to the obscurity of the story. It may be 
 that Fernando Aguilar s mind was enfeebled; that he, 
 in his remorse with a clouded memory, forgot the very 
 knowledge he would transmit. 
 
 Nixon bowed in silence. 
 
 "Thank God, he knows nothing," mused the watch 
 ful doctor. "And I have the triple set of negatives. 
 I will secrete one set at Edgecliff, deposit one in the 
 safe deposit vaults, and hold the other for my own 
 study. His sly arts are now powerless, for the sun 
 god has painted every line and hair-flourish. I have 
 outwitted you, my clerical friend." 
 
 It was almost a useless formality to ask if the padre 
 objected to smoking, so James retired behind a 
 cloud as the priest purred out the words slowly. 
 Doctor Nixon s mental translation was also designedly 
 slow; for phrase after phrase was read over again as 
 he gained time to think of the meaning of the con 
 cealed words of the veiled secret. His American 
 ized version was fixed in his mind as follows : 
 
 TO MY DESCENDANTS 
 
 I, Fernando Aguilar de Romero, sometime Knight of 
 the Order of St. James, and of His Catholic Majesty s 
 Ejercito Real, have caused this relation with my own 
 seal and firma, to be deposited under the altar of the 
 Chapel of Los Olmos, in the year A. D. 1685, being 
 now old and greviously suffering from my wounds. 
 
 It is not to my faithless wife nor to my children 
 now of tender years, that I may confide the story of 
 my absence of seven years from the Isla de Cuba. 
 
 May the blessed Virgin guard the secret here con 
 fided till all have passed away who might suffer by my 
 relation of the truth. The secret of the riches* stolen 
 from the altar of Maracaibo is here given to the trust 
 of Almighty Providence, to guide and dispose as it 
 may seem best.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 55 
 
 Know then, my descendants, that I was chased to a 
 refuge with the buccaneers (the enemies of His Catholic 
 Majesty) by the resentment of mine enemy, the 
 Captain-General of Cuba. I dared not repair to 
 Jamaica, whither Captain Morgan had sailed, for I had 
 battled with the English at sea, and in Campeachy, 
 and the kingdom of Terra Firma, which is Costa Rica, 
 lest I be bound and sent to my enemy or taken at sea. 
 I escaped with some Carib boatmen in a perogua to 
 Cow Isle, from where the valiant Captain Henry 
 Morgan essayed a descent upon Venezuela. 
 
 To my spouse, Senora Dolores, I had given none of 
 my designs, when I embarked her and my infant son, 
 Diego, upon the plate galleon then setting forth for 
 Vera Cruz, where her brother Don Alarco de Guzman 
 was royal governor. 
 
 But the Captain-General, Hevera, bitterly sought 
 my life for that I had sent my beautiful wife 
 away out of his power. I fain would have passed for 
 one of Morgan s Basques, Frenchmen or Walloons, and 
 so made my way out to old Spain by Venezuela and the 
 Guianas; for mine ancient enemy, Sir Henry Morgan, 
 and his bull-dog English were the most grievous foes 
 of Spain, and I had battled with him at St. Catherine s 
 Island, Puerto de Principe and Porto Bello. 
 
 Lest he torture me as a spy, I made haste to shave 
 my beard and to join one of the seventeen vessels of 
 which the valiant Welshman was chief. 
 
 The followers of Pierre Le Grand, Roche Brasiliano, 
 Pierre Francois, Bartholomew the Portugal, Mansueld 
 and Lolonois had all flocked to join this devil man, 
 Morgan. 
 
 It was a band of human devils. Lolonois being dead 
 now, miserably perished in Nicaragua, the old Welsh 
 man was king of the Caribbean. The deeds of this last 
 exceed even that fiend of fiends, Lolonois, whom the In 
 dians stripped of his flesh while still alive in Nicaragua, 
 burning his bones and casting the ashes in the air. So 
 rendered they justice to their guilty captive. 
 
 In a common soldier s leather doublet, I, a nobleman, 
 did daily upon my guard duty, as we sailed away 
 to Savona, being at the point of starving for want of
 
 56 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 provisions and grievously becalmed. The fleet of our 
 company was scattered, and after long waiting but 
 eight vessels and five hundred men were come near at 
 hand. There was a certain French captain of Lolonois 
 who, knowing all the entrances of the Lake Mara- 
 caibo, at last persuaded Morgan to rifle and sack 
 the city of Maracaibo, for that the priests and people 
 had hidden there vast treasures two years before, 
 which the greedy Lolonois found not. This had been 
 revealed by a grateful prisoner whose life the Frenchman 
 had saved. 
 
 It was in March, A.D. 1669, that our band 
 gallantly forced the forts of La Vigilia and de la Barra, 
 and the city of Maracaibo was finally taken and given 
 over to horrible sack and rapine. 
 
 I, Fernando Aguilar de Romero, was cast in a watch 
 of seven men, all bloodthirsty enemies of Spain. I 
 was put with them in the attack and forcing of the great 
 cathedral, for the town lay at our mercy. In the great 
 cathedral the main guard of our commander made its 
 post after the victory, and for three days the place was 
 wrapped in flames and the yell of the ravished rose 
 high above the groans of the dying. 
 
 On the second night of the sack, my companions 
 called me to where they had hidden the sacristan of 
 the cathedral and the vicar-general of the diocese, 
 who had once seen me in Cuba. These miserable men 
 were then bound and put to the rack and the most hor 
 rid and ingenious tortures. I feared to hold my own 
 hand back lest I should be slain myself; therefore, I 
 dared not discover myself to these sufferers as a 
 Spaniard. 
 
 Every day the wretched people who had fled from 
 the living hell were dragged back into the still blazing 
 city, and there was great rage among the victors for 
 that the spoil was miserably small ! For these 
 Captain Morgan gave liberty for all manner of tortures 
 to discover the vast treasures whereof Lolonois was 
 also foiled. 
 
 Three weeks this diligent search was kept up and 
 divers hundreds of innocent men and women perished 
 horribly. Captain Morgan being foiled as to finding
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 57 
 
 riches made haste to victual his fleet for the attack of 
 Merida and Gibraltar, which is by the Gurinas. 
 
 On guard at the tent of the pirate commander him 
 self I heard the great corsair and the French captain 
 within in deep converse, and they wotted not that I 
 spoke Spanish. 
 
 The wine was free in their heads, and they boasted of 
 the store of gold and silver and emeralds they would 
 yet find in Merida and Gibraltar. The Frenchman 
 related unto Morgan that all the great treasures of the 
 cathedral had been removed or hidden. For wist you, " 
 said he, "Lolonois got naught but the great silver 
 candlesticks, the pictures and the silver bells when we 
 sacked the town, and these we took away to Tortuga; " 
 whereat Morgan in a rage bade the captain of the 
 guard to single out for torture to the last extremity 
 every religious taken. 
 
 Then the French captain told of a vast number of 
 great emeralds of enormous value beyond the mind of 
 man to know, which the Muiscas of Tunja and Bogota 
 had fearfully given up as tribute to the priests for pro 
 tection of the Magdalena tribes. He said: "The 
 Conquistadores, aware of the value of the gold and silver 
 bars, knew not of the enormous price of the emeralds, 
 far beyond any known in the world. The sly Muisca 
 priests of Venezuela had long received and hoarded 
 them. These matchless jewels were thus all sacred to 
 Bochica and Chia, the goddess of wickedness. 
 
 " It was a collection made in the tribute coffers 
 of the gloomy temples of this awful goddess. There 
 was an open stone chest before each golden idol 
 in the shades of the Lake of Guatavista, and there the 
 Muiscas timidly deposited their bribes that accursed 
 stone the emerald of the Magdalena. Far above the 
 gold and silver, the dyed cotton and choice, perfumed 
 wax, the wily Xeques prized these rare emeralds, 
 which they secretly hid while teaching their poor 
 dupes that the Sun and Moon god had silently swept 
 away their previous offerings. The bearded villain 
 Morgan then sprang up with a fearful oath. I shud 
 dered, standing on guard UNDER the shadow of THE 
 folds of the GREAT DOOR."
 
 58 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 As the priest read these fateful words Nixon chilled 
 to ice with the reflex of his strange mental agitation. 
 But Padre Viciente only chanted along in a perfunctory 
 way and concluded the reading. 
 
 "Morgan rushed out at once and ordered the 
 assembly and torture of all the priests. It was a night 
 of hell s own dark work. My watch mate was one of 
 my seven companions. He sped away, and then the 
 band who ruled me hid the vicar and the sacristan in a 
 remote forest glade. I dared not betray myself lest 
 I die the death. The other religious prisoners soon 
 perished by fire, by the rack and all inhuman 
 butchery, but none of them betrayed the place of hid 
 ing of the Muisca tribute. I of a verity knew later 
 they wist not where they were. For the vicar, the 
 sacristan and the Bishop of Maracaibo (gone back to 
 Spain) alone knew where the emeralds had been hidden 
 from Pierre Lolonois. 
 
 It was while Captain Morgan, now beset, prepared to 
 storm his way out of the lake and destroy with fire 
 ships the fleet of Don Alonso del Campe y Espinosa, 
 that these seven devils to whom I was bound inhumanly 
 roasted over a slow fire the Vicar-General and sacristan 
 till they at last gave up the secret. We were left be 
 hind to guard the cathedral (now a strong place of 
 arms) while Morgan stormed and sacked Gibraltar 
 and Merida. They forced me to stand guard while I 
 heard the poor priest with the voice of dying agony 
 curse us all and then give us over to eternal damnation ! 
 When my comrades sped away to begin to spy around 
 the great altar for the signs of the crypt where the 
 millions of pieces of eight, in emeralds, were hidden by 
 the Bishop s secret order, I tried to soothe the dying 
 moments of the Vicar. 
 
 The poor sacristan lay dead at our feet! In Spanish 
 I kindly addressed the man of God. He turned his 
 eyes on me! The eyes of death are keen of sight. At 
 last he knew me! And he groaned: "The innocent 
 hand, the last of your line, alone shall break the bond 
 of this curse, a woman s it shall be, after sorrow and 
 woe has left your proud halls vacant!" 
 
 I shuddered and fled from him in mortal fear.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART 59 
 
 The villains toiling, at last found and carried away 
 the great hoard of gems. 
 
 How we deserted at Jamaica when Morgan sailed 
 away for the sack of Panama; how we concealed in 
 our bags bullets and powder, as well as the two great 
 leather sacks of uncut emeralds, I have told, in another 
 relation and confession. 
 
 It was two long years before I was left alone naked 
 and accursed on a lonely strand. My vile com 
 panions were dead, and the awful secret of the robbing 
 of God s altar was mine alone ! Of the treasure for 
 which these seven men perished, bootless where it 
 now lies hidden. and my long wanderings with them, 
 chased by Indians and Spaniards, the other relation 
 tells. 
 
 I bury with this document one emerald, as each mur 
 derer took but one from the store as a token. 
 
 When I was rescued at last by chance, on a hostile 
 shore, I told a wild tale of my capture by pirates and 
 being thrown ashore among the Central American 
 tribes. 
 
 Herrera, the beast, was dead. I made my way 
 safely to Vera Cruz, and in sorrow and sadness my 
 spouse saw me once more, but sadly broken with age. 
 To her death she knew not of my seven years history, 
 and I confide to the Blessed Virgin alone this true story 
 of my crime. I have been suffered to drag out my days 
 here in peaceable neglect, but the hand of God has been 
 heavy upon me. 
 
 I dare not approach the holy altar. The sac 
 raments of the Church are denied to me, for I 
 killed with the sword, at Maracaibo, and my seven 
 devils, of whom I was possessed, made me aid in the 
 most horrible death of the Vicar-General and sacristan. 
 I, too, profaned the altar with my own hand, and to 
 save my wretched life I lost my soul ! 
 
 It was only to look upon the face of my wife again that 
 I sinned. And as a good woman brought the curse 
 innocently upon me and the line of Romeros, so shall an 
 innocent woman take it away forever. 
 
 You that read, if God wills, will find the secret here 
 hidden of the true relation of where this great treasure
 
 60 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 now lies. And if God wills not, then so be it Amen. 
 And " Dios perdoneme todas mis culpas ! " 
 
 Done at Los Olmos, on the feast of St. Jago, A.D. 
 1685. 
 
 FERNANDO AGUILAR DE ROMERO. 
 
 When the priest ceased the reading, he fixed his 
 gleaming eyes upon the young doctor as he remarked, 
 "Here the relation rests. There is naught in all this but 
 the shell of another secret. What think you ? I find 
 nothing of value, save the story of a horrible outrage 
 upon God s Holy Church and the jewel which Don 
 Jose guards. It has been roughly polished! " 
 
 "It is a dark mystery," said Nixon, gravely, as he 
 rose. "I must think over the whole matter." 
 Then, with courteous thanks, he rose and went out into 
 starlit gardens to escape the burning eyes of the baffled 
 priest. 
 
 Did he have the clue ? His heart beat like a trip 
 hammer. 
 
 For the four erased words seemed to suggest another 
 discovery. 
 
 "Where are you going ?" cried Lorimer as Doctor 
 Jim bade the young Senorita " Good night." 
 
 "I ll wait up for you, Frank," heartily answered 
 Nixon. "I want to think things over a little, and I 
 beg you will bring Miss Inez over to-morrow for break 
 fast. I think we all should have a little council of 
 war." 
 
 "Are you in sight of the emeralds yet?" eagerly 
 whispered Lorimer. 
 
 " No ! But I am lingering on the threshold of the 
 past. Don t be too late I 1 am going down to York 
 to-morrow and I want those prints on my return." 
 
 The half-mile was a short one, as the doctor swung 
 along in the broken moonlight. He was only disturbed 
 by the discovery of a little bit of gypsy lovemaking; 
 for he unearthed a moonlight tryst of the two Spanish 
 bats with some ot the too susceptible lasses of the 
 village. ^ 
 
 "Young imps of Satan! Mischief still for idle 
 hands," he murmured. But Nixon finally resolved on
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 6l 
 
 his plan of action as he leaned out of the window and 
 puffed long draughts of Lalakia on the rose vines to 
 the discomfiture of the earwigs. " I will get out of the 
 way to-morrow afternoon. The great town of Gotham 
 shall purvey unto me all the literature of the Buccaneer 
 clan. I ll set Abercromby at the Astor and Lenox 
 Libraries too. A powerful microscope in my pos 
 session and I will then go over the prints secundem 
 artem . I flatter myself that if I cut up a series of 
 them, one line only on a slip, and shuffle them up, 
 having them translated by different experts who only 
 see a part, I can then reassemble the strict literal 
 redditions pinned to each part into a proper translation 
 of the whole. For the priest may have craftily dis 
 sembled, and the high-flown phrases of the noble rene 
 gade are a little too much for me." 
 
 He immediately took counsel with Lorimer. 
 
 " Buster, " said the latter, " I know these people. My 
 mother and sister have watched their daily life. I will 
 not chop logic as to your tight to withhold the hidden 
 emphasized words. Naturally it is the grip of the whole 
 situation. If we do not get there first I fear that Don 
 Jose will remain the possessor of but one emerald. 
 His local knowledge, his power of using the secret cor 
 respondence of the Church and messengers of his own, 
 his ability to delay and copy the last chapter of the 
 old story all this puts us virtually at his mercy if he 
 knows! 
 
 "If the General knows, the priest will divide the 
 knowledge at once. We can tell what Inez can do to 
 aid. She does not know even these details as yet. 
 She has not seen the document. If her father does 
 not tell her all frankly, before your return, it is prob 
 able that the priest has sealed his lips. Mark you, it 
 was Romero himself who pushed you out into the open, 
 by sending you to meet and confer with Padre Viciente. 
 And the churchman is sly enough to know that your 
 own professional oath as well as mine seals our lips as 
 regards outsiders." 
 
 "There is but one way," suggested Nixon. "Felipe 
 is no hero, but if he could get quietly away to Cuba, 
 and get the hidden additional deposit, then we would
 
 62 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 be safe to let Inez and the boy know all; for he hates 
 the priest with the stern resentment of original sin." 
 
 "I could stay here with my mother and sister and 
 guard Inez and could easily follow the priest if he goes 
 to York. He is too sly to write or telegraph important 
 news from here. You might post Abercromby. He 
 could pipe the padre off a bit, if he goes away with 
 the document. So you will be free to slip down with 
 Felipe to Matanzas and find the buried secret of the 
 leaden casket," was the reply of Lorimer. 
 
 The doctor was startled ; it seemed such a bold 
 plan. 
 
 "And my patient ? What explanation could I give ? 
 How could I get Felipe quietly away and down there ? " 
 he faltered. 
 
 Frank Lorimer laughed. "It s as plain as mud! as 
 we used to say. You can leave your written direc 
 tions with the village physician, who can visit Don 
 Jose twice a week. If there is anything wrong 
 then, let him telegraph down to your big gun in 
 New York to come up and see the General. You can 
 do this trip like a charm in three weeks. Wait a few 
 days. Let the priest be deceived into good humor 
 with your New York trip and your absence of special 
 crowding in." I will make Inez post Felipe to join 
 you quietly. That young Ishmael can slip away, as is 
 his wont, for a descent upon New York. Let him join 
 you and go quietly on the Havana steamer. There are 
 two sailing each week. Diabolus, Jr., Juan Valdes, 
 will ramble off to look for Felipe, but not find him 
 till you return. Felipe, in his lazy, careless way, loves 
 his sister Inez a little. He loves money and pleasure 
 even more. The two last will lure him to Cuba s 
 senoritas and monte." 
 
 "But if he should blab? Can I trust him ?" said 
 Nixon. " The priest s nephew might betray our pur 
 pose." 
 
 " My simple son of Galen," smiled Lorimer, "you 
 don t tell him what you are up to with him till you are 
 safe down there, do you see? It will be a lark for him 
 to go. And he has been years and years up here. No 
 one can possibly recognize him. The padre will be
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 63 
 
 still busied weaving his web around Romero here and 
 poring over the papers with his priestly crew in New 
 York. I ll spot him pretty close. In any case, you 
 get there the first, and have the corpus delicti a 
 safety in your hands. After that we can laugh at fate, 
 if there is any treasure to recover. For you can go 
 aboard any man-of-war we have there or else deposit the 
 papers, sealed, in our Consulate General, in your own 
 name. Felipe, of course, must not know the contents. 
 In this you must show all your nerve. When that 
 deposit is opened it must be by Inez s own hand, which 
 will break the seal, the charm and the curse at once." 
 
 " Lorimer, you are a genius," remarked Nixon. "I 
 will telegraph to my Uncle Bradford, who is on the 
 flagship down there. He can always get a week s 
 leave. The plan is the only one. You are right." 
 
 "The thing is to move in the affair before the 
 padre may make a discovery. Now, let us turn in. 
 I ll do the photographic business to a charm, and on 
 your next visit to New York you can make every secret 
 arrangement for your voyage. I will have Felipe all 
 primed for a trip. He will not know where he goes 
 till you take him on the steamer. I will also hypnotize 
 the lovely Inez to do my bidding." And Lorimer 
 softly laughed as he said, "Good night." 
 
 Nixon s dreams that night were fevered and 
 graphic. The moonlit reefs of Cuba, the breeze sway 
 ing the tropical jungle, the strange faces of the motley 
 plantation crew, all these were mixed up with vignettes 
 of the pale-faced old veteran, an emerald in his trem 
 bling fingers, and the stern faced priest crying: "For 
 bear ! It is mine ! " 
 
 Yet the simplicity and invincibility of Lorimer s plan 
 pleased the doctor when he sped away to his morning 
 visit. "It will settle the dream of years forever. If there 
 is any shadowy crown of emeralds awaiting the old Don 
 we will soon know it. It will be a good vacation trip. 
 There will be no harm done. And, if the papers 
 should be there, then I can guard them for the right 
 ful heir. I will be master of the whole situation, and, 
 supported by my friends here, can render justice to 
 Inez and Felipe," cogitated the latter.
 
 64 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Next morning the Cuban priest was pacing under the 
 splendid old trees of the park in earnest converse with 
 Inez, as the two young men came up. "I ll have a 
 few words with the Seiiorita, " said Lorimer, "and then 
 hie me back to photography. I will send my mother 
 over with the victoria to bring you at twelve. " 
 
 Doctor Nixon and Padre Viciente exchanged a cor 
 dial morning greeting. The young man s suaviter 
 in modo had lulled the priest, whose power was more 
 potent over his inferiors than his equals. 
 
 Guerra sorrowfully said: "Don Jose, alas! disap 
 pointed, baffled! a sore blow to his childish hopes! 
 We have gone over the whole document a dozen times. 
 It cannot give us what is not there. Only an expert 
 of the Church can give a final decision. Go in and 
 comfort him, my son! " 
 
 Lorimer found time to whisper to his friend before he 
 departed: "The girl knows absolutely nothing! She 
 is in the dark as to all and Felipe, too! So we are 
 safe as yet. " 
 
 " Then Padre Viciente means to engross the future 
 direction of the whole affair," answered Nixon and 
 entered the house. 
 
 The old Don was sitting up in his bed with his ema 
 ciated fingers nervously threading a rosary as he 
 turned his eyes fondly upon the young American. A 
 glittering light twinkled in his eyes, as he querously 
 said : And, hijo mio, you have heard all ? What 
 think you ? What shall I do ? What shall we do ? " 
 
 Doctor Nixon delayed a few moments while he pro 
 fessionally busied himself with the old man s condition. 
 The need of stimulants, of holding up the mirror of 
 hope, of sustaining the fever of his life dream, was ap 
 parent. "What does the holy father advise?" said 
 Doctor Jim, with cautious casuistry. 
 
 " Nothing beyond submitting the document itself to 
 the ablest scholars available in New York, and per 
 haps later in Havana. He is my last, my only hope. 
 He will go down to the great city and busy himself 
 with the study. Alas! I shall never see the lost emer 
 alds! And why should I ?" 
 
 His gray hair falling over his temples trembled as
 
 HIS CUBAN oWEETHEART. 65 
 
 he bowed his head. "I will make a novena for the 
 soul of the sinful man who brought this ghastly shadow 
 upon the name of Romero! In fasting and prayer I 
 will atone, for the sake of my innocent lamb, Inez. It 
 is not for myself I would have wealth, but Inez, my child 
 of sorrows, she should have been truly called Dolores! 
 I must speak to you, to the Abogado, to the gracious 
 lady at Edgecliff. Valga me Dios ! I feel rny lamp 
 of life fluttering low in the socket." 
 
 Nixon easily divined that the old caballero was fear 
 ful of the future welfare of his child. He dared not 
 break the fairy chain of the golden circle to soothe the 
 veteran. Full well the doctor knew that Lorimer was 
 busied, strangely busied, with dreams of lightening that 
 future. He responded at hazard: "She is the last 
 of the Romeros, the innocent woman hand. Fate owes 
 her this one reward and also the fulfillment of the 
 strange prophecy! " 
 
 "Alas! the veiled secret of the leaden casket!" 
 muttered Don Jose\ "See, my son! " He handed to 
 the doctor a single emerald stone of unusual size. It 
 had been roughly ground en cabochon, evidently by rub 
 bing it with other stones of the same class. Its irreg 
 ular facets and undisturbed natural oval proved 
 that no skilled lapidary had reduced it to its 
 present form. When with a semi-superstitious awe 
 Nixon bore it to the golden sunshine-flooded window, 
 its sea-green depths and rich velvety brilliancy spoke 
 of the beautiful spirit of light prisoned in its adaman 
 tine heart. 
 
 "It is the accursed spoil of the past," murmured 
 the old man. "The price of a human soul! And 
 there were hundreds of these gems hundreds! I am 
 told by Viciente that this single stone is of a very great 
 value. If I could only find the hoard I would richly 
 atone." 
 
 Nixon gently tried to calm the old soldier s "fantas 
 tic self-reproaches." 
 
 "General," he said gravely, "your doomed ances 
 tor was driven by foul wrongs to shelter among these 
 wild corsairs. He struck not willingly at his own 
 kindred. Moreover, the treasure was never the lawful
 
 66 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 property of the Church. And, note you too, he died a 
 true and loyal man. He ended his days by his own 
 fireside. In generations, this defection has been 
 atoned, and you must not burden your declining years 
 with the sorrows of the past. Should the secret yield 
 to the old prophecy, then let your daughter be honestly 
 the keeper of the emeralds. They are her inheritance, 
 if ever found. Hers alone!" 
 
 "I will counsel, after fasting and prayer," mur 
 mured the General faintly as he leaned back, the jewel 
 in his hand. 
 
 Doctor Nixon was not astonished at the padre s 
 sensible cooperation when he led him apart and 
 authoritatively forbade any diminution of the old man s 
 strength. " I will guard him and remain with him, " 
 said the priest gravely. "For much remains to be 
 done to pierce the mystery. But there is certainly a 
 treasure, and I will find it," he added, with lambent 
 gleaming eyes. 
 
 That afternoon, in the retirement of Lorimer s 
 den, the two young men safely pored over the copies 
 of the document which baffled the priest s plan of 
 shutting all others out of the quest. 
 
 Nixon was provided with all the preliminaries of his 
 inquiry as he set out for New York. "On my return I 
 will announce the fact of my being called away for a 
 few weeks," he said, dubiously, for, on the threshold, 
 Miss Ethel Lorimer laid upon him her fairy commands 
 for a short absence. 
 
 Rejoicing in being at least one step nearer the Muiscas 
 treasure than his secret, for Nixon dreamed all the 
 way to New York of the eyes which would brighten at 
 his coming.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 67 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WAIT TILL WE HEAR FROM NIXON. 
 
 DURING the temporary absence of the doctor Mrs. 
 Lorimer betook herself daily to Villa Romero to 
 slake the curiosity of a typical daughter of Eve. If the 
 Lady of Edgecliff flattered herself that the adamantine 
 composure of Padre Viciente would yield to her bon 
 homie, she met with a signal defeat. 
 
 "Perhaps he detests heretics," murmured the fair 
 widow. But the active, energetic priest went ever 
 smoothly on his silent way, and soon gathered up the 
 threads of the household into his sinewy brown 
 hands. 
 
 There was no new life infused into the dreamy 
 entoinage of the bewildered and sorrowing veteran, but 
 che hand of a new master was there. The three days 
 of Doctor Nixon s absence made even the placid Inez 
 tremble for her own future. For the voice of the padre 
 now dominated all, and the sick room of the old Gen 
 eral was sacred to the "ugly blackbird," as the restive 
 Felipe denominated Padre Guerra. Basilic, with super 
 stitious awe, ministered to Padre Viciente s wants. The 
 loud voice of admonition or the resonant sound of the 
 holy office of the Church alone was heard in the wing of 
 the old mansion where Don Jose was sheltered. 
 
 "He has stolen my father from me!" cried Inez 
 throwing herself on the motherly breast of Mrs. Lori 
 mer, and the Cuban girl s eyes flashed in resentment 
 when, for the first time, Padre Guerra led her away by 
 the hand from the side of the General. There were 
 papers, maps and plans, littering the table. And when 
 the offices of prayer or penance busied them not, the 
 two men there closeted were poring over the old docu 
 ments, so far a Gibraltar of invulnerability. 
 
 In the shaded walks of the glen, Inez poured out 
 her passionate plaint to her rebellious brother. For 
 Felipe wandered there with her now, big with the 
 secret of his impending voyage.
 
 68 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 " Tis a cursed old raven! " moodily said the boy. 
 " How long stays he here ? I hate all his mummery. 
 Priests! Priests! Ever hungry for money! Our father 
 has long nourished the yellow snake. He means us no 
 good! " 
 
 And the young Cuban s hands slid angrily into his 
 vest, where he carried the cuchillo, whose silent stroke 
 has ever spoken the Cuban s sudden vengeance. 
 
 "Patience, Felipe!" begged Inez. "Our friends 
 are true. This dark man has much to tell our father 
 of his old companerosof Cuba, of the fate of his friends. 
 And, perhaps, he may help us to discover the treasure 
 papa dreams of." 
 
 "Yes! As the wolf helps the lamb," energetically 
 cried Felipe. " I am a boy, no more. When I come 
 back with the Americano I will chase him out, myself. 
 For can you not see that our father weakens daily? " 
 
 It was too true, for there was no cease day and night 
 to the round of wordy lashing Of the soul, and gloomy 
 rebuke heaped by the padre upon the memory of Fer 
 nando Aguilar de Romero. 
 
 Frank Lorimer s spirited counsel caused Inez to 
 openly claim a daughter s rights, and she then resolutely 
 placed herself at her father s bedside. 
 
 "I am the last of the Romero s to bear the name as 
 maid," she sobbed. "Tell me, my father, of your 
 daily cares, for Felipe is but a wild boy at heart, and I 
 would divide your sorrows. I claim that, even if I share 
 not your confidence." 
 
 So at last the General gave to her gentle ears the 
 record of the past, and with a prophetic misgiving told 
 her all. In vain did Padre Viciente fume and frown, 
 the spell of the gentle mother s eyes shining down 
 from the wall, aided a daughter s fond entreaties. 
 
 " Think, padre mio," said Inez, "if I were to lose 
 you, what is the world to me ? Alone, friendless! An 
 exile in a strange land." 
 
 " There is the convent always," murmured Don Jose, 
 "and Padre Viciente will be near you to aid." 
 
 "Sooner will I toil as a servant!" cried Inez. 
 "I know not why, but he is no friend at heart to us. 
 I feel it! I know it And, in this free land, he can
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 69 
 
 make no claim on me. No, my father! Tell me all. 
 Let your love guide me . Let my mother s memory 
 bless me. For I fear this cold man who is a stranger 
 to me. If you have known him in the past, his claims 
 are on you alone. I fear him ! Oh, I fear him ! " 
 
 The old Don pressed his daughter fondly to his 
 breast. "Ah, my Inez!" he said, glancing timorous 
 ly at the door, for the priest found many occasions for 
 furtive entry. "Then I shall tell our gracious friend 
 Senora Lorimer, of the little store I have saved for 
 you alone. Felipe must never know. He is wasteful 
 and lazy. Poor lad! And yet I have deprived him 
 wrongfully of his birthright. But for my madness he 
 would be the lord of Hacienda Jabacoa and perhaps high 
 in rank and station. Ashes of Life! My dead youth 
 rises up to accuse, to reproach me! " 
 
 The old man s head was bowed, and his eyes were 
 tear-laden as he whispered: "Listen! Alma mia! 
 Padre Viciente goes to New York soon. He will 
 try and read the secret of the old chronicle. I 
 will tell you when to bring Senora Lorimer to me. She 
 is kind and noble at heart. She loves you. To her I 
 will tell all before you, and the young Abogado will be 
 a brother to you." 
 
 The old veteran sighed, but never saw the crim 
 son flood which tinged the pale face of the Cuban 
 beauty. For Inez head was bowed and the trembling 
 hand of love rested on her dark tresses. 
 
 The girl started up in a sudden fear as the harsh 
 voice of the priest broke the silence. "It is the 
 hour of prayer," he said, and so the black robe threw 
 its shadow again between the loving girl and her sire. 
 
 "Vayase V. con Dios, hija mta," murmured Don Jose". 
 " If the treasure should be found, then then I could 
 die in peace! " 
 
 The stern priest pointed to the door. And the girl 
 went silently out of the room. 
 
 The strange preoccupation of Dr. James Nixon 
 astonished his intimates, as he sped around in Gotham 
 with an unprofessional hurry. "What s up?" they 
 asked. 
 
 "I m going away on a little hunt," he jocularly
 
 70 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 remarked, "and have much to do to prevent a shock to 
 the vitality of my innumerable patients." 
 
 In the hurry of the three days William Abercromby, 
 M.D., was a tower of strength. He had dug up the 
 last quaint detail of the romance of the Caribbean in the 
 great libraries. Sundry musty folios and octavos were 
 assembled under lock and key in a "fair cedar chest " 
 in the placid office of the two embryo medicos. 
 
 "I believe the healthful air of our lair would set 
 even a mummy at dancing Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay ! " con 
 fidently admitted Abercromby. "If I take a news 
 paper its death-column shrinks! Even the janitor 
 tells me he never hears of any sick people around here. " 
 
 To this Nixon asked jeeringly, "Can I have been 
 changed at my birth ? Was I really designed for a 
 stock broker, or an auctioneer, or perhaps a leading 
 boniface ? I evidently have no place with the dead and 
 dying. I can only heal myself." 
 
 "Speaking of being healed, my festive filibuster," 
 laughed William, " Heel yourself ! You go into a land 
 Of dagos. I will back this hammerless 38 calibre 
 revolver against any naraja that ever flashed in an 
 assassin s hand. It is like Frank Lorimer s Mam- 
 brino mare. All you have to do is to hold her straight 
 and let her go." 
 
 Doctor Jim replied. " Put it up! By this I do not 
 mean you are to pawn it, but get it out of sight." 
 
 "Not a bit of it," resolutely said Abercromby. 
 " Many a good man has made a premature and indif 
 ferently developed angel for a sudden want of this very 
 kind of selected hardware." You do not know what 
 may happen. I have a nice little combination of a 
 money belt and forty cartridges, with this nickeled 
 chamber of horrors. You will promise me that you 
 will carry this on the trip, and till I give you leave to 
 unarm. Seriously, Jim! You will run into some snag 
 or another in this current of blind adventure. You will 
 be led very far away from where you started, my boy. 
 You are now only at the fork of the road ! " 
 
 The departing comrade s brow grew gloomy and his 
 face hardened. " Perhaps," said Nixon. A strange 
 chill came oVer him. They were alone in the office, and
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 71 
 
 the moonlight fell upon the merry crowds passing in 
 the lighted streets. 
 
 But, far away, at Villa Romero, Inez had led Felipe 
 out into the fragrant groves and wandered up the glen 
 away from the house. She was giving her last sisterly 
 counsel to her light-minded brother. 
 
 " You will have now a chance to show yourself a 
 man, mi hennano. To help me ^to help yourself. 
 To-morrow the American doctor comes here and he 
 will take you away! You shall have money, all you 
 need. You shall find I will guard our father, and watch 
 the plotting priest. For there is something he knows 
 something he would have something he would rob us 
 of or grasp for his own dark ends. Swear to me that 
 you will be a man, for our mother s sake. And never 
 divulge your going away to Juan. Not a word of 
 where you go of what you do. For he would tell his 
 uncle. Oh, Madre de Dios ! How I fear that man! 
 
 "I will obey you," said Felipe, startled out of his 
 usual lazy calm. He was really brave and loyal at 
 heart, though he knew it not. There had never been 
 a single coward in the long line of Romeros. 
 
 "I trust to your honor, Felipe," said the beautiful 
 girl, as she stood in the broken moonlight. Her 
 graceful figure swayed with emotion, her dark eyes 
 gleaming in a thrill of tender love as she faltered : 
 " You are young and heedless. The head might go 
 wrong, but the heart never. Swear to me now on our 
 mother s crucifix that you will never tell any one f 
 your quest until I bid you ! " 
 
 Then the young caballero kissed the cross and 
 muttered in a broken voice: " I swear ! " 
 
 They started as Inez solemnly said: "Juan is the 
 padre s assistant, \ fear." 
 
 "What is that?" exclaimed Felipe, springing 
 quickly to the shrubbery. " I thought that I saw 
 some one moving." 
 
 Their nerves were unstrung with the agitation of 
 their first parting. 
 
 " Perhaps only a dog ! It was nothing," said Inez, 
 as the brother and sister wandered back, hand in hand, 
 to the lonely house.
 
 7 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Nixon and Abercromby sat late that night in distant 
 New York, in a last conclave over the secret expedi 
 tion. "Don t fail to call on me in any way, Nixon," 
 said his friend. " Money telegraphs anything ! 
 Watch every one around you, and for God s sake look 
 out for that imprudent young Cuban. He is about as 
 manageable as a young tiger on a silk string. One jump 
 and you lose him forever. Get to that secret deposit 
 as soon as you can. If you linger, the padre will surely 
 be there before you. Mind your eye and God bless you ! 
 If you unearth any emeralds of the kind and size you 
 described and identified, Tiffany s buyer says they are 
 worth ten thousand dollars apiece ! For such a hoard 
 men will plot, will betray, will even murder. I trust 
 you in all but your own honest nature. For foul play 
 only is what I fear ! Don t be led into any trap into 
 any false position." 
 
 " What do you fear ? " said Nixon. "The Spanish 
 boy will be true to himself, will he not ? " 
 
 " Perhaps, " answered his chum. "I will warrant, 
 though, that you will run against the unexpected before 
 you are done. The great thing is to prevent any 
 special hubbub about your departure, so as to keep 
 Don Jose" in quietude. If he should note Felipe s 
 absence and make a racket, then your yellow enemy 
 might be alarmed. But, Nixon, if you make a natural 
 exit, the padre will be overjoyed to have the field 
 to himself. He will put the old relic through a novena, 
 and perhaps make him swear to yield up the spoil if 
 it is ever recovered." 
 
 " Don Jose will never do that," firmly replied Nixon, 
 "He has a melancholy faith that the prediction 
 will accomplish itself in some way. Though I really 
 think he has little provision made for Inez s future, and 
 the shadowy chateaux en Espagne of his confiscated 
 estates, are about as real, about as near to the helpless 
 girl, as these green-jack-o -lantern emeralds. She is 
 almost helpless in the priest s hands. He wants to 
 lock her up in a Cuban convent. 
 
 " If this is so then mind your eye, Nixon," gravely 
 replied Abercromby. " From what you tell me of the 
 priest s resolute character and his haughty gall, he will
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 73 
 
 go in for the futurity stakes as a winning dark horse. 
 And, how do you know but what the priestly chronicles 
 have described in detail, all these secrets of the past ? 
 It s but a run over to Cartegena and Maracaibo, and 
 the Bishop of Merida is sure to have all the old records. 
 You may be assured that Inez s future is in your hands 
 or^the padre s ! " 
 
 "I know my responsibility," soberly replied 
 Nixon, "and I ll have what s hidden under those 
 two mystic stories or I ll never come back! " 
 
 "Depend on me," gaily cried Abercromby the 
 next morning as Nixon boarded the upriver train. 
 "On getting your telegram I will put all aboard the 
 Santiago de Cuba, and take two first-class tickets for 
 Henry Morgan and Antonio Herrera. Let the lad come 
 right down here by train. I will meet him at the South 
 Ferry Hotel. You can then take the West Shore road 
 and come to the steamer by Jersey City. There s little 
 chance of anyone following you both in that way. Now 
 I ll bet you a champagne breakfast if you ask the old 
 Don to see the manuscript or the emerald, that you 
 will find the padre has spirited them both away in 
 your absence." 
 
 "Done!" laughed Nixon; yet he started in sur 
 prise as he closed an examination of his patient that 
 afternoon. 
 
 " I had hardly time to examine the document, Don 
 Jose," remarked Nixon carelessly, "and as I find you 
 so well, I can easily make a little trip which I had in 
 view. I would also like to see your beautiful gem." 
 
 "When you return, my son," replied the courteous 
 old rebel. "For my good priest Padre Viciente has 
 already submitted them to the experts of the church 
 in New York. It may take a season of study to decipher 
 any hidden secrets of the paper. A special mes 
 senger came here and conferred with us. One sent 
 by those who know all the history of our beautiful 
 island. And we have hopes yes, hopes. If Inez were 
 only made sure of her future, then," smiled the old 
 man patiently, "the sooner I see my lost wife again 
 the happier for me." And his wandering eyes sought 
 the gentle face of the dead smiling down from the wall.
 
 74 H *S CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 " I do not like to leave you," doubtfully said Nixon. 
 " But you are in such good condition that I will go 
 gladly on one condition." 
 
 " Name it, my son," the general eagerly assented. 
 
 " That if you are ill you will permit your daughter 
 to telegraph for my associate in New York, Dr. Aber- 
 cromby. He will bring with him an expert who would 
 be only too happy to meet and know you. Thus I can 
 leave you happily." 
 
 "I promise," the graceful old Cuban answered. 
 
 And Nixon most joyously cried: " I am free, then, 
 to go to-night! " 
 
 The padre entering, was in his blandest armor of 
 perfect self-control as he watched the leave-taking of 
 the circle of young people. 
 
 The road wagon which was to convey Doctor Nixon 
 to the station presented a sportsmanlike appearance 
 with a gun case, fishing rod, and sundry objects of 
 pleasure travel. There was some little soberness in 
 Nixon s good-by to Miss Ethel Lorimer. "Watch 
 over Miss Inez while I am gone," he said. "Her 
 father needs brighter company than the gloomy priest. 
 Is he not fond of you ? " 
 
 Miss Lorimer pouted: "The General is my especial 
 cavalier ! " 
 
 "Then Inez to go in with you and brighten up 
 
 his loneliness. It would cheer him. And if you see 
 
 any strangers, anything unusual, around Villa Romero, 
 
 do not fail to tell your brother. Promise me this, for 
 
 Inez s sake if not for my own ! " 
 
 The girl s face kindled with a happy light, as she 
 said: "I promise for all our sakes ! You must win 
 great renown in the strange case. Tell me, do you 
 think there is really a concealed fortune ? " 
 
 " I do not know," doubtfully remarked the doctor. 
 " But there is some scheming around the General which 
 smacks too much of this world to be spiritual. Do 
 you know if he has any other property ? " 
 
 "I can only tell you this," thoughtfully replied 
 the bright girl; "Mr. Sheaver, the president of 
 the village bank, told me that he had the custom of
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 75 
 
 sending the General s coupons always down to New 
 York for him to be cashed quarterly." 
 
 "Then he must have some securities," mused 
 Nixon, "not in Munoz s hands. I suppose the padre 
 will perhaps go in for those." 
 
 As Nixon drove away he imparted to Lorimer his 
 sister s chatter. " We may be on a false scent, Frank," 
 he said gravely. " It seems that General Romero has 
 some affairs outside of the banker Munoz s hands. Has 
 he accumulated a special deposit for Inez ? It may be 
 more than we know. Now, who knows but that Padre 
 Guerra has fabricated these old papers to excite 
 Romero ! There is one thing certain he has come to 
 stay. He may be only scheming for the old man s 
 savings. 
 
 " I tell you your mission at home is as important as 
 mine," continued Nixon. "Your duty is even more 
 complicated. You must probe this while I am away. 
 I am uneasy about Felipe. Is he to be depended 
 on ? " 
 
 "All right !" cheerfully said Lorimer. "Juan is 
 away amusing himself at pond fishing, and he dare not 
 openly disobey his iron-willed uncle. I posted Inez to 
 have old Basilio watch the boy. Felipe, roaming 
 around the village as usual, will take the evening train 
 alone. I will telegraph to Abercromby the very 
 moment I see him aboard. I will also see young 
 Arthur Sheaver, the cashier of the bank. He is an 
 academy chum, and will tell me anything he may know 
 about the General s securities. So on your return I will 
 have all the points." 
 
 " Good ! " answered Nixon. " I feel that this is a 
 serious matter. I m going to run up the river as far as 
 Rhinebeck. I ll cross there and get down unobserved 
 to Jersey City. But we must hurry. It s near train 
 time. Hello! That s strange, "added the doctor, as he 
 watched a farmer s light wagon trundling on after 
 them. 
 
 " What ? " asked Frank, in a half doze of reverie. 
 
 "That fellow drives pretty good stock. We have 
 not left him a length for the last mile." 
 
 " Oh, those fellows all breed smart horses for the
 
 76 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 market ! " laughed Lorimer, as he touched up the 
 Mambrino mare. 
 
 At the station the grip of the "Skull and Bones" told 
 all that the two friends would express. 
 
 As the engine whistled, Lorimer did not see, as he 
 pushed his way to the telegraph office, a lad squirm out 
 of the wagon rattling up and catch the very last car of 
 the up-river train. 
 
 " I flatter myself that was a particularly neat job," 
 remarked the young lawyer as he retired from the 
 telegraph office. "I will defy anyone to find out 
 whither Nixon is bound!" 
 
 And yet a youth buried in a corner of the long car 
 never once lifted his glittering black eyes from the 
 stalwart form of the doctor. 
 
 " He must not see me," mused Juan Valdes, as he 
 muffled his neck and face with a scarf of convenient 
 thickness. 
 
 That night at twelve the tenant of Room 42, Tay 
 lor s Hotel, was heartily rejoiced as a telegram was 
 brought to his door. For it told " Mr. Henry Mor 
 gan " that his chum had caged up the festive young 
 panther, " Antonio Herrera,"at that famous " Fisher s 
 Boarding House," the South Ferry Hotel. 
 
 " Stole away and the coast clear," thankfully mut 
 tered Doctor Nixon as he "turned in" for the night. 
 But while he slept a brown-skinned, bright-eyed Span 
 ish lad chatted with the "all-night" porter, who be 
 came very communicative under the influence of sundry 
 cigars and frequent liquid refreshment. 
 
 " That s his baggage there, yer see, and he s in the 
 call list for six o clock," the porter volunteered. At 
 six promptly the hovering Spanish lad across the street 
 was watching with gleaming eyes the two entrances to 
 Taylor s hostelry. Then as "Mr. Henry Morgan" 
 came out and walked briskly down West street to 
 where the Santiago de Cuba was pouring out its 
 carbon clouds, Juan stealthily followed, chuckling to 
 himself: "Ah! Carajo! now I ve got him." 
 
 Thirty minutes after, the Santiago de Cuba glided 
 out into the dancing waters of the North River, 
 and Juan Valdes, stowed away in the chief steward s
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 77 
 
 room, his furtive eyes gleaming, laughed in triumph. 
 "Felipe and the Americano, bound for Havana. I 
 shall earn the padre s regalo ! " 
 
 The gray mist of Sandy Hook closed around the 
 swift steamer, which was well on her way to Cuba 
 before the sunset gilded the Jersey coast. 
 
 Two hours after, Frank Lorimer walked the portico 
 .of his old home in a rage of baffled apprehension 
 "The devil is to pay! For there is noway I can 
 warn Nixon save by telegraphing to his uncle on board 
 the Kears trge. It may be a week, two weeks, be 
 fore he gets it. The flagship may be away cruising. 
 I must go down on the morning train and meet Aber- 
 cromby. For it seems, after all, the fight is not to be 
 here. It is down there! " 
 
 Lorimer read again the yellow slip as he consumed a 
 last cigar. 
 
 " Followed our man to the Spanish Consulate General. 
 He stayed there two hours. Fear something wrong. Party left 
 all right." 
 
 " What the devil was the priest doing at the Spanish 
 Consulate General s ? " muttered Frank Lorimer in a 
 vague alarm. And where is Juan anyway? that bothers 
 me too. I must see Abercromby. Has the padre dis 
 covered the hidden clue in the parchment ? If so, 
 then all is lost. He could cable to Cuba and be first on 
 the ground with his imps." 
 
 The lawyer guessed correctly ! The Comandante 
 at Matanzas had already received a cipher dispatch, 
 which caused him to be on the alert for "filibuster" 
 spies. He was a fiery Spaniard who burned to repeat 
 the quick butchery of the Virginius affair. 
 
 Unsuspicious of the cable, Doctor James Nixon was 
 busied every moment as the Santiago de Cuba sped 
 over the Gulf Stream, on past Bermuda. By stern 
 repression he had finally conquered Felipe s aimless 
 wanderings over the boat. "You may be known to 
 some one," the young American insisted. "These 
 vessels are all crowded with adventurers, spies, secret 
 customs agents, and we may be dogged and followed. 
 Be a man for your own sake, Felipe, and for your 
 sister s."
 
 78 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 So in the brief voyage Nixon vigorously enforced 
 his prudent directions to the end that Felipe consumed 
 unnumbered packets of papelitos and diverted himself 
 with a prodigious amount of sleep. Hour after hour, 
 the doctor pored over the singularly exhaustive collec 
 tion of Caribbean literature scraped together by Aber- 
 cromby, who did nothing by halves. Even in " Tom 
 Cringle s Log," "The History of Lafitte," Henry 
 Gringo s novels " and quaint old Spanish and French 
 tomes, there was congenial pabulum in the " olla 
 porida " raked up by his chum. 
 
 "It is a strange quest," mused Nixon, "but I will 
 probe the old story and at least baffle the sneaking 
 padre for the time being." 
 
 But his mind was filled with many dark forebodings 
 as he closed his last volume when the Santiago de Citba 
 sighted Morro Castle and the overhanging fortress on 
 the hill. 
 
 It was a strange quest, this dangerous secret visit of 
 Felipe ! 
 
 And disappointments began at the very landing. 
 There was no American war vessel in the harbor ! The 
 first chattering boatman told the doctor that the Kear- 
 sargc had left the day before for a week s cruise. 
 
 An angry wrangle with the customs officers over 
 their baggage delayed their arrival at the railway 
 station. Even as they drove up the train they wanted 
 to board pulled out without them, speeding by them on 
 its course for Matanzas. 
 
 " No train till to-morrow morning," stormed Nixon, 
 who feared a night in Havana. Felipe might go astray. 
 
 And the boy, with a scared face, turned and said: 
 " Carajo ! if he were not in New York, I would swear 
 that I saw Juan s face at a car window." 
 
 To which the doctor gruffly said; "Impossible," as 
 they sought an hotel.
 
 19 
 
 BOOK II. 
 IN THE GRASP OF THE SPANIARD. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " PASADO FOR LAS ARMAS." 
 
 1 THE devil fights against me ! " snarled Nixon at the 
 obscure side street hotel which the doctor chose as a 
 hiding place for the night. "If we had not missed the 
 train by these insolent officials twaddling, I would 
 have already had the boy safe in the little village of 
 Jibacoa." 
 
 The young American had taken two veranda rooms 
 on the second story, and through the long summer 
 afternoon kept watch over his restless charge. 
 
 "No one knows me. I was only a child when I left 
 Cuba," morosely muttered Felipe with remarks such as: 
 Yo no soy peon ! and other indications of social mutiny. 
 
 " See here, Romero," sharply returned the doctor. 
 " You have given me your word of honor. Now, if 
 you make any outbreak here I ll abandon you without 
 money and go back and tell your sister you are no 
 caballero. Remember where we are. Your father has 
 only you to depend on in the world. This is the one 
 chance of your life." 
 
 "Tell me what I came here to do, then," insolently 
 cried Felipe, " I am no baby! " 
 
 " Not till the hour when we reach your birthplace," 
 resolutely said Nixon, as the angry youth betook him 
 self to fresh cigars and some claret cup, and mooned 
 away the dull hours, gazing down from the palm shaded 
 veranda at the throng pouring by on the shell-paved 
 street. The doctor, busied with maps and plans, tied
 
 80 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 the boy to his side for a time by questions as to the 
 topography of the hacienda, its features and the village 
 of Jibacoa. Felipe sullenly gave up what scanty 
 information he had. 
 
 " Thank God, the wild youngster has no money," 
 mused Nixon eyeing him askance; for flashing eyed 
 senoras in passing volantes cast side-long glances at 
 the oval faced young patrician exile the rattle of dice, 
 click of billiard balls, and gay shouts of the gamblers 
 rose up from below. 
 
 Officers dashed by on splendid steeds, the cry of the 
 fruitero and lemonade seller arose, and the lad grew 
 craftily silent as the evening fell. Nixon was deceived 
 by his apparent quiet, and alas ! he knew not that Inez 
 Romero had pressed all her slender hoard of golden 
 savings upon her heedless brother. In New York 
 Abercromby had sternly watched the Cuban, so that 
 the ready gold was now itching the boy s palm, as he 
 thought of monte, faro, of the burning words whispered 
 in his own tongue by beauties swaying in the 
 fandango to the melodious monotony of the guitars. 
 
 "I must get him quietly out of Havana, and then, 
 by Heaven ! I ll take the first schooner from Matanzas 
 to Key West, when our search is over. If he should 
 break away from here it would expose all, and so win 
 me the old General s undying hatred"; cogitated the 
 American. 
 
 So Nixon, ordering a dinner in their rooms, kept 
 the boy in sight as he worked, and rejoiced in the 
 penniless condition of the young sybarite. " He won t 
 stray away far without cash. Money the basis of all 
 fun, the root of all evil. No money, no honey ! 
 chuckled the Doctor. 
 
 But James Nixon did not notice the triumphant gleam 
 of the lad s eyes when he lounged off to bed. 
 
 " I can depend on you, Felipe ? " he said heartily, as 
 the boy pleasantly waved his cigar and went to his 
 room humming an old Spanish love song. A true son 
 of Cuba. 
 
 The American sat till late pondering over the 
 morrow. " We have the whole afternoon to reconnoitre 
 the hacienda and the old church. I can at once make
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 8l 
 
 up my mind what work is to be done to dig under or 
 pry away the sills of the door. La puerta mayor ! 
 The construction may tell me something, and I fancy 
 it was under the door of the hacienda itself, the old 
 repentant buccaneer volunteer hid the other half of the 
 story. My God ! If I only knew how to act ! There 
 must be no mistake ! No throw away of time ! It is 
 madness to think that the boy Valdes is on our track. 
 Impossible ! " 
 
 With great circumspection Nixon strolled out to the 
 cable office and sent a dispatch to Abercromby. For 
 prudence sake he gave no address or signature Only 
 the following words told the story : 
 
 " Havana. Here all right ; delayed one day ; get there to-morrow." 
 
 Then he lay down to his troubled sleep, slipping the 
 hammerless revolver under the pillow of his bed. 
 
 The young man was content, for he had peeped into 
 Felipe s room and the lad was already in his bed. He 
 took a last look at the sparkling heavens, with the 
 great stars swimming on high, trembling globes of light 
 in the thin-drawn blue. The magnolia incense breathed 
 in damp richness from the groves, where great palms 
 over-topped the orange trees, and the sound of 
 laughter, the rich, happy laughter of love, reached him, 
 broken with the tinkling thrill of humming guitars. 
 
 " A land cf siestas, of manana, of dolce far niente," he 
 sighed softly, as he lay down to dream of the buccaneers, 
 whose devious track he was still wandering; fierce 
 Lolonois, the inhuman Morgan and his hellish crew, 
 and the stern face of Padre Viciente Guerra. 
 
 He awoke in the sulky gray of the early dawn. 
 
 A loud fracas in the adjoining room called him 
 quickly to Felipe s aid. Pistol in hand he ran in, to 
 find several hotel servants trying to control the youth, 
 flushed with wine and maddened by debauch. The 
 truth flashed over him. Breaking his word, the boy 
 had stolen out and made a night of it! 
 
 It was with a sad heart that the young doctor battled 
 until near train time to bring the foolish prodigal up to 
 traveling condition. And in a corner of the seat, his 
 eyes downcast, and coiled up in guarded moroseness, 
 Felipe Romero cowered until the Matanzas train swept
 
 83 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 around the beautiful, varied shore into a little cove in 
 the early afternoon. Then he stubbornly said: "This 
 is Jibacoa. " 
 
 There were only a few natives, half naked and dull- 
 eyed, hanging around the little station near the coral 
 reefs of the encircling bay. Out on the sapphire sea 
 a few white sails gleamed as James Nixon strode out 
 into the furnace glare of the sun An ox-cart near, with 
 a lazy peon, afforded them means of transport for their 
 luggage to the little hamlet clustered on the cove, where 
 a few whitewashed adobe houses looked out upon the 
 beautiful cayos, whose green island forms were snug 
 retreats for Carib fishers, wreckers, cigar smugglers and 
 illicit traders. A few canoes and piroguas were 
 anchored in the little port. 
 
 Nixon had reserved his whole moral force for one last 
 appeal to the repentant Felipe. For the " flesh-pots" 
 were now only a memory, and the boy s aching head 
 and emptied pockets left him at last powerless in Doctor 
 Jim s hands. He hung his head sheepishly as his 
 mentor said sharply: "At least you can tell me where 
 Hacienda Romero is now ! " 
 
 "Half a league up that road," the boy replied 
 humbly, pointing to a wide gap in the dense, tropical 
 sea-line forest of varied fruit-bearing trees. 
 
 Nixon s eyes rested on a rider urging a pony away at 
 full gallop in the glaring sun; then he noticed a few 
 frowzy-looking soldiers lounging about the little rail 
 road and telegraph station. The impudent, barefooted 
 rascals were glowering at the Yankee "gringo." 
 Their linen raiment was half ragged, but a belt with 
 revolver and saber bayonet, two heavy cartridge 
 pouches and the gleaming brown rifles showed them 
 effective for butchery, as they leered at the doctor 
 with the fierce, cowardly brutality of their kind, their 
 fingers itching to try the oiled trigger on the American. 
 
 "Are there always soldiers about here ?" questioned 
 Nixon, vaguely uneasy. 
 
 " Yes, "said Felipe. "The Guardia Civile, and they 
 are a rough lot. Regular throat-cutters!" 
 
 "Do you know if there is any kind of a hotel at 
 Jibacoa village ? "
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 83 
 
 "I ll go up and see," answered Felipe. In a few 
 moments he returned. "An old Frenchman has a 
 little tavern there," he said. 
 
 "Let us get in there under cover at once," cried 
 Nixon. As he followed the ox team on foot, he turned 
 his head and noted the soldiers in gathered clusters 
 eyeing them curiously. 
 
 I have got to be somebody in particular down here, " 
 mused the American, who was careful to have no 
 compromising baggage. "Henry Morgan, a wander 
 ing Yankee traveler, a magazine writer, artist and 
 photographer. Yes, that will do! They cannot object 
 to my presence. As for Felipe, his face explains his 
 character young Spaniard of large leisure and no 
 special aim in life, Senor Antonio Herrera. But how 
 shall I ever get any common sense into the lad s 
 head." 
 
 Two hours later there was a returning entente cordiale 
 between the American and the exile. A dip in the 
 cove, a fair meal, a couple of ponies brought up, and 
 with a bundle of cigars and notebook, James Nixon 
 was ready for a first reconnoitory trip. The old 
 French boniface a sailor cook cast ashore offered 
 boats, fishing and several amusements to delay his 
 patrons. A few jack tars now and then made the 
 lonely inn their haunt, and smuggling seemed to be 
 the veiled occupation of the alert, cunning beach 
 combers of the shore. For Key West was conveniently 
 near, and the Cuban cigars trebled their value in a 
 twenty hours run. 
 
 The doctor took the lad out on a jutting crag by 
 the soft lapping waves of the blue sea. "Let us 
 begin again, Felipe," he said soberly and kindly. 
 "You are young and very thoughtless. Help me out 
 in this journey and I will take you back to Havana 
 and give you a charming cruise on an American man- 
 of-war. I can make it pleasant for you in New York 
 too. Only be silent, wise and watchful here. Will 
 you be ruled by me for a little time ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " said the boy, a gleam of his better nature 
 lighting up his face. " I was wrong. But the young 
 officers asked me out for a lark ! And it was Cuba
 
 84 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 my own country. But tell me now, what are we here 
 for ? " He was eager; the spirit of his race shone in 
 his eyes. 
 
 " When we are at Hacienda Romero, I will tell you 
 on my word of honor. Your hand, compaiiero ! Off 
 we go ! " 
 
 "You are to let me know who I am or where we 
 came from ! " 
 
 " We are only travelers and going to Matanzas, then 
 back to Havana." With this Nixon mentioned the 
 names and occupations he had devised for them, as they 
 ambled along at the lazy, shagging gait of the Cuban 
 pony. 
 
 They made a wide detour which left the railroad 
 station at some distance. Then they rode into the 
 avenue where cocoa and palm, pineapple and orange 
 tree were tangled with climbing vines of tropical 
 profusion. The mango groves swept down to the very 
 sea, the bananas in great green clusters high above 
 them. 
 
 The air was still, and the sunlight poured in a tor 
 rent through the broken shade, where the discordant 
 screams of parrots and the chatter of monkeys 
 announced their coming. Through bits of rich prairie 
 savannah they caught glimpses of rolling wooded hills, 
 rising back to the serrated blue mountains where for 
 ten long years the Cuban rebels held the interior of the 
 island against an army double the hosts which Wash 
 ington ever saw embattled in fight. At the end of his 
 journey, his heart beating in oppressed loneliness, Nixon 
 suddenly remembered that he was destitute of all 
 mechanical appliances for the work before him. 
 
 " It is, after all, a simple thing," mused the young 
 American. "A lonely old man ridden by his night 
 mare memories would not make confidants of servants. 
 The papers may be such that, if found singly, they 
 would benefit no one. A little aid from lever or shovel, 
 a pick or any old gardener s tools may help me. Even 
 an axe and spade may release the deposit." 
 
 An hour after they had entered the beach line tropic 
 forest, Felipe led his companion out over a rolling ride 
 down into a beautiful glen where a crystal stream wan-
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 85 
 
 dered. The ponies eagerly drank of the sparkling 
 waters, as the Cuban said quietly: "We will be there 
 in a few minutes. Shall we go right to the hacienda ? " 
 
 " Let us ride up and take a look," answered Nixon. 
 
 Then from the higher knoll the boy pointed down 
 to a mass of irregular buildings, headed by a square- 
 towered chapel, indicating his birthplace, his own for 
 feited heritage. 
 
 "There is the house!" he said simply. "The 
 rancho is ten leagues square, and in old times was the 
 first place on the north coast." 
 
 The wearied horses dropped their necks gladly as 
 the travelers drew up in a clump of trees from which 
 the whole front of the hacienda could be seen. A 
 great irregular white mansion, in a lonely park over 
 grown with tropic growth, lay below them, the tiled 
 roofs gleaming red in the afternoon sun. A stone wall 
 surrounded the building, which was of several stories 
 with a clustered mass of single story adjuncts, suited 
 to the former state of a "great family. A hundred 
 paces from the house the chapel showed its square bell 
 tower with a pyramidal tiled roof above the rank trees 
 of the abandoned gardens. Beyond were a few strag 
 gling adobe huts, a clump of thatched sheds and a 
 series of abandoned slave baracoons. 
 
 " Shall I go down to the house ? " demanded Felipe. 
 
 "No, my boy, let us ride over to the church. I 
 see that the great door is open. And anyone is free 
 to enter the house of God. Remember, now, no one 
 knows who we really are." 
 
 As they rode up to the lonely chapel the American 
 saw two or three dark forms flitting around the old 
 servants quarters. A few hungry-looking pigs roamed 
 vaguely around and soon a half dozen energetic dogs 
 vociferously raised an alarm. 
 
 "Stay here with the horses a moment, Felipe," said 
 Nixon, and he sprang off, walking briskly over to the 
 deserted church. There was no sign of life as he stood 
 under the great arched door of the main facade. A 
 single round window gave light to the eastern front, a 
 low square tower at one corner was flanked by the 
 tall belfry at the other. A great crucifix fifty feet
 
 86 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 iii height was planted on a stone pedestal of four 
 tiers before the entrance, and a fantastically carved 
 wooden image hung weather beaten upon the molder- 
 ing beams of the cross. Stone images of the apostles 
 in niches with faded gilt aureoles were tottering upon 
 the walls, rent and split by the earthquake. 
 
 A hundred feet in depth and fifty in breadth, the in 
 terior of the chapel was only a confused mass of wreck 
 age; ruined side altars and shrines, the religious 
 furniture and time-stained pictures and images, all 
 attesting the shattering force of the dreaded tremblor. 
 
 The fierce light of the afternoon streamed in through 
 the broken side windows as Nixon hastened to pick his 
 way around the high altar. 
 
 Upon slabs and wall tablets lying crushed under 
 his foot, the American could still read the reported 
 virtues of the Romeros of the past. The foundation 
 slabs of the high altar, tilted and yawning in disorder, 
 showed the spot from whence Padre Viciente had 
 unearthed the leaden casket. 
 
 The American woke as if from a dream. " Nothing 
 here," he murmured, and, swiftly retracing his steps, 
 he passed over the holy water fonts lying prone in his 
 path and stood under the arched doorway. "This is 
 no la puerta mayor, " he said in unconscious self- 
 address. " Nothing else in sight but the two sacristy 
 doors. Here would be no hiding-place." 
 
 So he strode swiftly out. At a few paces distant a 
 strong, substantial adobe house, square and roomy, 
 was evidently the padre s domicile, for it alone bore 
 signs of habitation, save the faint blue smoke curling 
 up from the scattered village of the peons. 
 
 Nixon turned to rejoin his waiting companion. " It 
 must be under the hacienda entrance," the explorer 
 decided. 
 
 As he thought this, the door of the priest s house 
 opened slowly, and a woman standing in the opening 
 cried out suspiciously: " Quen vive?" 
 
 Nixon quickly turned the corner of the church, and, 
 striding back to Felipe, said: " Go down, speak to that 
 woman and tell her we are passing travelers. See if 
 you cannot get her to prepare a meal. For we must rest
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 87 
 
 and bait the horses. Be in a hurry, for I wish to get a 
 look at the hacienda itself before the sun goes down." 
 
 Nixon turned his delighted eyes upon the superb 
 beauty of the splendid landscape. "The old Con- 
 questa knew a thing or two," he murmured. "And 
 that beautiful stream furnished water for their flocks 
 and herds." 
 
 From the church he had seen the rear view of the 
 hacienda, with its feudal adjuncts of corrals, pasco, 
 great tiers of rooms f or the servants and other retain 
 ers, and also the vast offices suited for all the wants of 
 the lord of a single tract ten leagues square now an 
 abandoned paradise! 
 
 "And this is the work of mad Cuban rebellion and 
 heartless Spanish brutality. Cuba lies bound, impov 
 erished, helpless and bleeding under the misrule of the 
 weakest royal line in Europe. For the court of Madrid 
 has thrown away the whole New World in four cent 
 uries. " 
 
 Felipe came bounding back with a smiling face and 
 cried: " The woman is civil enough. She will do what 
 we wish. Let us come down now with the horses. It is a 
 good chance. All the guardians are away at a big 
 fiesta at Matanzas, and she says we can take a look at 
 the old hacienda besides." 
 
 As the doctor sprang on his horse he saw four 
 mounted men spur out of the wood at some distance, 
 their arms flashing in the sun. They rode up behind 
 the hacienda, nd a boy standing on a knoll seemed 
 to be beckoning to their leader,a single horseman, who 
 galloped out to him. 
 
 "Again these prowling soldiers," he exclaimed. 
 "They seem to turn up like Jack-in-the-box every 
 time." 
 
 As he rode up to the padre s door, some sudden 
 presentiment of danger flashed on Nixon s mind, for 
 he mechanically said : "Felipe! Talk to me in Eng 
 lish only. I don t want anyone here to know that I 
 speak Spanish. If the woman asks what I am, tell her 
 that I am the Yankee artist and photographer." 
 
 The young fellow nodded. 
 
 " Does she know you, this woman ? "
 
 88 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 " No, I think not, and yet it seems to me that I 
 remember her faintly." The boy s answer was care 
 less and indifferent. 
 
 "Ask her if we can go over and see the hacienda 
 while she prepares our meal," earnestly whispered 
 Nixon. "Once over there I will tell you for what 
 we came here." 
 
 The boy s eyes sparkled with sudden excitement as 
 he cheerfully cried: "All right." 
 
 Nixon was conscious that the woman was eyeing him 
 keenly as she stood in the rear door and lazily called 
 to a "mozo," who slouched up and then led the horses 
 away after carefully depositing the saddles, bridles and 
 blankets on the tiled floor of the rear veranda. 
 
 The woman listlessly said to Felipe: " You will find 
 the whole inner line of the hacienda open. The men 
 all sleep there. Only the front doors are barred. Go 
 in at any of the back entrances. There s nothing to 
 see. Empty rooms! Los soldados have carried off all 
 the little things." 
 
 " That s just what I want. Be quick, Felipe. 
 Let us take a turn around the priest s house and then 
 quietly get over the park into the hacienda." 
 
 The housekeeper had opened the doors of the padre s 
 bungalow with the mechanical hospitality of the Latin 
 American races. A sullen pride rather than good will 
 was manifested in her indolent motions. 
 
 "Quite a well-kept household! " remarked Nixon as 
 they wandered along through the spacious rooms of 
 the substantial masonry one-story house. Its heavy 
 mahogany beams, its four foot walls, double shut 
 tered windows and cool brick floor, spoke of the 
 practical sense of the vanished builder. The double 
 roof of great semi-cylindrical red tiles was proof against 
 both heat and tropical storms. The splendid old-time 
 darkened furniture in rich heart mahogany was evidently 
 part of the hacienda property saved from Paul to fall 
 into the oily clutch of Peter. The rooms were fur 
 nished with iron and brass beds of tropical lightness, 
 where great drooping lace curtains gave an interior 
 vantage ground wherein to fight the mosquitoes. 
 
 It was evident that the padre was not averse to
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 89 
 
 hospitality and good cheer, as the huge dining table 
 proved; for a delegation of the Table Round could 
 be placed about it in stately ease. A carven sideboard 
 showed the quaint pottery of the tropics with silver 
 flagons and table furniture of ancient design. 
 
 Cool, spacious, and well furnished, the padre s home 
 was on a scale which enabled him to set forth good cheer 
 and give the ample room needed in the sultry land to 
 all the passing officials. The great ollas hanging in 
 their corded network, the store of tropic fruits at hand, 
 and the evident comfortable provision showed that 
 there was a well ordered system in the menage. 
 
 "I will warrant, with turtle, fish and oysters, the 
 spoil of field and forest, the remains of flocks and 
 herds and the offerings of the faithful, that Padre 
 Guerra lives like a fighting cock here in the shadows 
 of the past; " thought the American. 
 
 It was literally true. For several specimens of the 
 very finest black Spanish cocks were tethered by 
 leather strings to the table legs in the various rooms, 
 so as to judiciously prevent a battle royal. 
 
 A furtive glance at the woman who watched them 
 with an ugly glint in her luminous dark eyes and 
 Nixon leisurely moved out of the door. 
 
 She stood, her gleaming brown arms poised on her hips, 
 and leaned in unconscious grace against the masonry of 
 the front entrance. Her dark hair streamed down over 
 the dazzling whiteness of her light muslin gown ; golden 
 earringb of quaint design, with a beaded, cross bearing 
 necklace of West Indian gold, lit up her simple dress. 
 The tropical richness of her splendid form showed all 
 the ripeness of life at twenty-four, as an easy, self- 
 conscious, half-insolent smile played on her lips now 
 parted to show the pearly teeth which a belle might envy. 
 
 "Rather a prepossessing Dorcas," mused Nixon, 
 " and yet there is a suggestion of infinite deviltry in 
 her cat-like stride and easy grace. I will not bother 
 the coffee-colored queen very long, for if I have aught 
 to do here it can be achieved to-night or in another visit. 
 Yet how shall I have access again when the guardians 
 return from their fandango and monte at Matanzas? 
 Some of the older people might recognize Felipe."
 
 90 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 The sun was yet an hour high as they wandered 
 through the beautiful grounds. Knee deep was the 
 rank foliage of the tropics. "Let us get on as soon 
 as we can!" cried Felipe. Nixon quickened his pace 
 and they passed through a ruined wall, whose heavy 
 iron gate lay in two broken leaves under their feet, to 
 the arched masonry passage which formed the rear of 
 the mansion. Strong twisted gratings of hammered 
 iron protected all the casements, and the doors, 
 thickly studded with metal knobs, were proof against 
 aught but the sapper and the miner. Towers on the 
 roof carried up to hold two or three musketeers were 
 loopholed with judgment and thrown out so as to easily 
 flank the paseo. At the angles of the yard were 
 huge cisterns, where the rain water would furnish a 
 supply to a beleaguered garrison. 
 
 " This is a fortress, not a mansion, Felipe," said the 
 American in wonder, as they passed into a great hall 
 leading to the puerta mayor of the old stronghold of 
 the Romeros. 
 
 "Yes, "said the lad, "Los Olmos was often attacked 
 by freebooters, by the hill Indians, and there were also 
 risings of the slaves here, when blood flowed freely. 
 Juan has told me a lot of the old stories he got from 
 the padre." 
 
 Their feet sounded hollow on the boarded floors of 
 mahogany plank, and the American hastened to light 
 a dark lantern which he had hidden away in his shoot 
 ing coat. 
 
 The boy ran through several of the vast lonely 
 rooms whose front windows were all barred with 
 double solid shutters. "I can easily break one open," 
 he carelessly said. "There are tools at the hall 
 door." 
 
 "Touch nothing, " cried Nixon. 
 
 He stood in the principal entrance of the silent house, 
 gazing eagerly at the huge double door with its anti 
 quated fastenings. The straggling light through the 
 rear windows showed him a broad sill of stone against 
 which the doors were closed. 
 
 "I have found a window unbarred here," cried 
 Felipe, as he threw open a double sash, strongly
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 9! 
 
 hooked from the inside. Nixon was at his side in a 
 moment. Leaping through the window out into the 
 tangled vines he sprang along the front of the house 
 to the huge arched entrance. It was paved with cob 
 bles to the very sill. 
 
 Casting his eye along the great facade, Nixon with a 
 beating heart satisfied himself at once, by a glance, 
 there was no suitable place of concealment for the 
 document he sought for on the exterior. 
 
 The long gleaming spires of light trembled now in 
 the palm tops. " I must hasten," the American 
 decided; he then quickly clambered within the open 
 ing of the window. A glance showed him the broad 
 savannah and the sleeping forest, silent, tranquil and 
 lonely. "A ghostly place, a ghostly past, a ghostly 
 present," he mused. But his sense of present respon 
 sibility at once returned as he swung the sashes together 
 and rehooked the rusted windows. 
 
 "That door could not be opened without a dozen 
 men s labor," he decided, "and there is nothing on 
 the outside." On his knees behind the great barriers 
 he flashed his lantern over the stonework beneath his 
 feet. " Ah ! " he gasped. 
 
 Felipe stood at his side in astonishment. He was at 
 last startled into a lazy curiosity. 
 
 " Have you lost anything ? What is the matter ? " 
 
 But Doctor Jim was carefully studying the arrange 
 ment of the flooring. There were three broad stones 
 paving the half width of the door opening which was 
 left behind the folded leaves of the great gateway. 
 The ones adjoining the wall were evidently carried 
 under the masonry and tied down with tons of the 
 heavy coral rock which made the main walls of the 
 hacienda impervious to the attacks of an old-style six- 
 pounder. But in the middle there was a slab which 
 was capable of easy displacement, its seams being 
 closed with cement. 
 
 The young man gazed at it with curiosity and then 
 keenly examined its every corner and line. 
 
 "It must be . Yes! It is here," he said, 
 buoyant hope and solemn awe mingled in his manner. 
 Then rising he took Felipe by the hand. " My boy, " he
 
 92 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 gravely whispered, " I have come to this place for your 
 sister s sake. Even your father does not know why. 
 The priest and Juan must never know. No one but 
 you and I. There is something buried under this 
 stone which is of the utmost value to your family. 
 Now if we can get this loosened and back into its posi 
 tion before the guardians return we shall have both done 
 our duty. If we cannot, then we must leave it so that no 
 one can tell of our attempt. You said there were some 
 old tools where are they ? " 
 
 Together the two young men examined the pile of 
 picks, bars, axes, and old implements in the new 
 gallery at the coping of one of the great underground 
 water cisterns. 
 
 "I think I could do it with your help in an hour," 
 murmured Nixon, "but the woman maybe suspicious; 
 we must go back and eat." 
 " Yes, we must go back." 
 
 "Now, Felipe, you must find out when the guardians 
 will return. You had better go on in advance and 
 carelessly question the woman. I will saunter about 
 by the main wall and join you as if only looking 
 around." 
 
 The boy moved away in a stupor of surprise. "I 
 wonder if it is the sun! Has he gone crazy ? Can it 
 be that he will have the fever ? " Felipe muttered ; yet 
 he obeyed the man whose cool energy had at last 
 impressed him as worthy of respect. 
 
 4 Let me see, " mused Nixon, as he sauntered through 
 the tropical park, "an hour to eat our meal, 
 a smoke and a look at the animals. Then it will be 
 dark. It will give us an excuse to light candles in 
 order to finish our look at the old house. In two 
 hours I can have that stone out and back in its place. 
 But the noise and if the guardians should return! " 
 
 The young doctor was carefully weighing all the 
 chances. "I could give no explanation," he thought, 
 as he pushed into a tangle of vines hiding the view of 
 the padre s house. Then he suddenly sprang back, jerk 
 ing out his revolver as a dark form leaped out almost 
 under his very feet and fled away among the tangled 
 bananas and palms.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. . 93 
 
 " What the devil ! " he growled, in an angry surprise, 
 and yet standing there, open-eyed, was ashamed of his 
 first idea. "Only some peon lad, curious to see the 
 strangers! " 
 
 Here an opening showed him Felipe standing expedt- 
 ant at the door of the house. 
 
 When Nixon re-entered the great waiting room he 
 said anxiously in English: "Did you see any one on 
 our path as you came back ? " 
 
 "Oh, no," good humoredly replied the young man, 
 with an easy laugh. " It s all right, anyway. She 
 knows who I am. And you can do what you want to. 
 I told her I might take a notion to sleep in the old 
 hacienda, and the men won t come home till daylight." 
 
 Nixon smothered an expression of alarm. " Let us 
 finish up our meal, then, and get to work, Felipe. If 
 I find what I hope for, I want to ride back to Jibacao 
 to-night. If there is any mistake we will be out of the 
 way before the men are here." 
 
 " To the devil with the men!" said the boy, as he 
 applied himself to the chickens, eggs, tortillas and fi- 
 yoles of the hasty meal. I should like to stay here fora 
 little while ! I could take a look over the old fort myself, 
 and you could go back to America. I wish you would 
 leave me a little money and let me stay here a little 
 while. I ve nothing in God s world to do in New York, 
 you know." 
 
 "Felipe," said Nixon, earnestly, "don t think of it 
 a moment. It surely would get me into trouble with 
 your father and the padre, and remember your prom 
 ise. No one to know ! They would find out at once. 
 If anything happened to you here, your sister would 
 hold me responsible." 
 
 "Let us at least see what turns up," said the boy 
 lightly. " If we have good luck I may get the padre 
 to bring me back here with Juan to stay awhile." 
 
 "Yes, that is better ! Anything is better than to 
 leave you here alone," replied the relieved American. 
 The two young men finished their meal and sauntered 
 over to the horses snugly ensconced in the padre s yard 
 near to the sober, sleek-looking mules, which drew the 
 priest s easy ambulance.
 
 94 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 " How did she recognize you ? " asked Nixon, curi 
 ously, as they strolled back to the house. 
 
 "I suppose by the family face," laughed Felipe, 
 "for she said flatly: You can do what you wish to 
 here. I know that you are Felipe Romero. I could 
 not deny it. She was raised on the place; I may have 
 played with her as a child. She is not so bad looking," 
 added the boy, who was now restored to his nerve tone 
 after the little flurry of dissipation. 
 
 " Let us hasten to the work, then," eagerly answered 
 Nixon, " lest some of these Matanzas revelers return." 
 
 So they moved along slowly to the heap of .tools by 
 the cistern. Selecting several implements suited to his 
 work, Felipe bore them into the great hall leading to 
 the front door. To the doctor s delight there was no 
 trouble in closing the rear shutters so as to prevent the 
 light shining out into the darkness, to give any warn 
 ing of their presence. 
 
 "The front door is tight enough; there will be no 
 trouble there," thought the American as he knelt down 
 in the stillness of the early evening to examine the 
 joints of the middle slab, under which he hoped to find 
 the object of his search. 
 
 With his heavy knife he tried the old mortar. 
 "If it is anything like Roman cement, I might work 
 all night in vain, and have to split the stone with 
 powder, or drill it. That would be out of the question, 
 and this lucky chance might be lost forever." 
 
 To his irrepressible joy, the old mortar was soft and 
 rotten, evidently the work of the sea breeze and moist 
 ure in the olden days. He began cleaning the joints, 
 then turned his head to set Felipe to work to aid 
 him. "That knife of his will come in play here," 
 decided the American. 
 
 A distant gleam of light flitting in and out of the 
 vacant rooms showed where the boy was wandering. 
 Leaving his own dark lantern on the slab, Nixon fol 
 lowed Felipe, his own footsteps sounding hollow in the 
 ghostly silence of the deserted hacienda. Turning from 
 one passage to another, the doctor saw Felipe standing 
 near him in a doorway, his form shadowed against the 
 doorway.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 95 
 
 " Come here and help me," he said earnestly. 
 
 As he spoke the figure seemed to vanish : then 
 Felipe, light in hand, entered the other end of the passage. 
 
 Nixon started in alarm. "Did you see any one? 
 Where did you come from ? " he whispered. 
 
 " I have been in here all the while," said the boy, 
 dreamily, " for I have found my old chamber. And I 
 remember my mother s room, too." 
 
 "Can this old den be haunted?" the American 
 thought rapidly, as he returned to his work. 
 
 There was no sound as they stood listening. Nixon 
 forgot that bare feet are noiseless. 
 
 "Don t leave me now," he said. "When we get all 
 the seams clear, I think we are strong enough to pry 
 up the stone. If we can lift up one edge, we may roll 
 it off, balancing it on one of these bars as a roller." 
 
 The two athletic young fellows toiled eagerly 
 for half an hour. Finally, after splintering a corner 
 off the gray slab, and prying up, their bars together, 
 they raised the stone out of its bed and lifted one edge 
 of its four-foot length over the nearest slab. 
 
 " We must take these tools all back where we found 
 them, Felipe," remarked the excited American, as he 
 arranged a roller deftly so that they could return the 
 stone to its place after digging beneath it. "Did 
 you bring one of the spades?" he whispered, 
 for in the silence of the tropical night, with only the 
 shrill cicadas breaking the hush, his voice sounded 
 strange and unfamiliar. 
 
 "Yes, two of them," laughed the boy. "I don t 
 like this hard work." 
 
 Rising, they resolutely heaved till the slab was lifted 
 up, rolled away, and left a bare surface of sandy soil 
 below it. Grasping a spade Nixon muttered ener 
 getically: "Dig down here in the middle hurry!" 
 
 "It s too much like digging one s own grave," 
 grumbled Felip*e as he bent over the unfamiliar tool of 
 Adam. But with straining muscles the young Ameri 
 can was silently throwing up great spadefuls of the 
 yielding soil. He shuddered in a nervous tremor as 
 the blade of his spade at last struck an object harder 
 than the sandy soil loosely thrown in. In a few mo-
 
 96 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 ments he had uncovered a small leaden chest similar 
 to the packet brought by the padre. 
 
 " Quick now, my boy! For your life!" whispered 
 Nixon, as he lifted the case aside. It seemed in fair 
 condition, for there was very little moisture in the soil. 
 Then he worked on like lightning, refilling the chasm 
 and trampling the earth in with his feet. 
 
 "We must get back to Jibacoa as soon as the horses 
 can carry us." 
 
 " Is it the thing you came here for ? " asked the lad, 
 as they sprang to the stone and rolled it back to its place. 
 
 " Never mind the joints. Let us get away," cried 
 Nixon. "Pick up the tools." With the box under 
 his arm he strode along, an implement in each hand. 
 
 They neared the coping of the cistern whence the 
 tools had been taken. Nixon dropped the implements. 
 
 Then they turned to go back for the lantern and 
 the remaining utensils, but a dozen dark forms darted 
 out of the shrubbery, crying: " Halto!" and the fore 
 most grappled with Felipe. 
 
 By a sudden inspiration Nixon dropped the precious 
 box quietly into the cistern, and extending his arms, 
 cried: " Yo soy Americanos ! " as the click of hammers 
 told of armed men making ready to fire. 
 
 Suddenly there was a yell of pain as Felipe s knife 
 flashed in the starlight; next the sound of a crashing 
 blow as a carbine butt felled the unfortunate heir of the 
 Romero curse. 
 
 Nixon was grasped by a half dozen sinewy arms and 
 quickly dragged along the portico to where a man 
 stood now, lighting the rear doorway with the dark 
 lantern used in the work. Groans of pain followed the 
 American and he twisted his head around to see Felipe 
 lying senseless by the side of the man he had stabbed. 
 
 The light flashing in Nixon s face blinded him. A 
 Cuban officer of the coast guard stood glowering there, 
 cocked revolver in hand. His harsh voice rang out: 
 "It s not he; it s the other fellow I want the 
 Cuban." 
 
 "He s safe enough," growled an old sergeant. 
 "We ll have to carry him or get a wagon. He is laid 
 out; for he stabbed Moreno deep in the chest."
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 97 
 
 "Who are you?" fiercely demanded the officer, as 
 Doctor Jim winced under a couple of turns of a riata 
 pinning his wrists until they were crushed as in a vise. 
 
 "lam an American traveler," answered Nixon in 
 Spanish. "A peaceful tourist; and this outrage is 
 a brutal one. I demand my liberty, and my friend s 
 too." 
 
 What do you here? Search him !" cried the officer. 
 Menacing the doctor with his revolver, he growled 
 out: " Some damned filibustero !" while his prisoner 
 was roughly deprived of all his personal articles. 
 
 "Thank God, the leaden casket is in the cistern, 
 and they may not find it," thought Nixon. Then he 
 cried to his captors, "I will explain to the proper 
 authority." 
 
 "Get them up to the house!" roughly said the 
 officer. " You had better take a cart to carry that 
 other fellow down to Matanzas. The Comandante 
 there will make you talk, damned quick! " 
 
 The soldiers then strode along to where the band 
 had propped up their wounded comrade, and were 
 eagerly examining his hurt while a squad roughly 
 shook up the stunned and bleeding Cuban boy as they 
 dragged him away. 
 
 While this was going on James Nixon was uncere 
 moniously hustled along to where the padre s house 
 keeper was slatternly flirtatious, as the officer said 
 most familiarly: "Manuela! who is this Gringo 
 fellow ? " 
 
 "I don t know, Senor Capitan," she answered, as 
 she set forth the ready rum bottle and a box of cigars, 
 " But the boy with him is Felipe Romero, the old rebel 
 Don s only son." 
 
 "Old Romero, the exile, you mean?" cried the 
 Captain, starting up in ferocious joy. 
 
 "Yes! the old General," answered Manuela. Then 
 she called up some Indian women to bring food for 
 the soldiers pouring in. She seemed to be a she-devil 
 qeeen now. 
 
 "Well, I will take one of your wagons and go on to 
 Matanzas with him to-night," growled the Captain, 
 with a triumphant leer. Calling the sergeant he hastily
 
 98 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 ordered: "Search that wounded fellow well. The 
 youngster! Then look into their saddle pockets and 
 all their other traps. Rest the men for an hour and 
 get something to eat before we start back. Leave two 
 files to watch over this Gringo. Keep him separated 
 from the other fellow. If he tries to speak to Romero 
 till we get to Matanzas shoot him that s all. Come, 
 Manuela, " he leered, and the two passed into another 
 room. 
 
 In the pale moonlight of the midnight, Nixon on a 
 led horse, his hands tied before him, was hauled away, 
 a heartsick prisoner, on the Matanzas road. The com 
 mand moved slowly along, the half -drunken soldiers 
 singing and wildly shouting: " Muertea los filibusteros! " 
 as they guarded the creaking cart where Felipe Romero 
 lay tightly bound on a truss of straw. 
 
 Nixon was stupefied with suffering and fatigue. 
 Even hunger and thirst oppressed him as he fearfully 
 repeated the Cuban lad s gloomy words: "It s like 
 digging one s own grave ! " 
 
 In the sickly glare of a tropic daybreak the man who 
 had found the packet " debajo la puerta mayor" was 
 thrust into a common felon s cell at Matanzas. "The 
 box is safe, thank Heaven! " he murmured, as he sank 
 down on a rude pallet. 
 
 It was high noon when James Nixon, bruised and 
 fainting with thirst, awoke in the sultry shades of the 
 filthy Matanzas calaboose. He was alone in a square 
 cell with a little grated window, and as he struggled to 
 his feet he eagerly seized npon an earthen crock of 
 water which stood in a corner. 
 
 Rubbing his eyes, it seemed all a hideous dream. 
 The ghostly, curse-haunted halls of Hacienda Romero; 
 the hurried toil of the evening hours; the wild mtlee, 
 and the dragging away of Felipe. 
 
 "My God! where is the poor boy? "he murmured 
 in agony. " He may be now imprisoned as a danger 
 ous felon, for he struck with ready knife. The box 
 lying in the depths of the old cistern may be found 
 again, but the last of the Romeros Felipe ! what of 
 him ?" 
 
 Then Nixon, familiar with many stones of heart-
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 99 
 
 rending Spanish brutality, shuddered as he thought of 
 the rash boy s position. " He has not a friend in the 
 island. I must face the Comandante here. I will 
 telegraph at once to the Consul-General. I will 
 demand the presence of our Consul. By the eternal! 
 if the Kcarsarge were only in the harbor, Bradford 
 could soon induce the Admiral to act." 
 
 The lonely American was well-nigh frantic. In des 
 peration he beat upon the iron cell door with the heavy 
 earthen water jug, which shattered in his hands at last. 
 As the jailer came clattering down the corridor a cry 
 rose from the adjoining cell: " Los soldados ! Los sol- 
 da Jos ! Algun pobrecito sera pasado por las armas ! 
 
 Springing to the little window Nixon saw a firing 
 party of a dozen, with trailed arms, swiftly crossing 
 the interior parade grounds of the cuartel. The sol 
 diers were laughing and twisting their heads around, 
 snapping their gun-locks in a merciless bravado. They 
 leered at the pale face watching them spell-bound. 
 Their jeers and jargon were borne to Nixon s ears as 
 they sped swiftly along out of sight. 
 
 "I demand to see the Comandante !" roared the 
 prisoner, who had now lost all self-control in his pent-up 
 wrath. 
 
 "You ll see him soon enough. Gringo," bluntly 
 answered the jailer. " He will make short work with 
 the filibusteros Americanos. Now, you keep quiet, or 
 I ll gag and double-iron you. This is a poor place for 
 filibusteros." The brutal jailer laughed as a heavy 
 explosion re-echoed down the yard, and wreaths of 
 thin blue smoke floated across the parade ground. 
 
 "There goes one of them now. You maybe the 
 next. Your turn will come soon enough." 
 
 The scoundrel went jeeringly away, rattling his heavy 
 keys.
 
 100 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE KING OF EMERALDS. 
 
 IT was three o clock in the afternoon when a guard 
 arrived to escort Nixon before the dreaded Coman- 
 dante. The officer in command was the same who had so 
 vigorously flourished his cocked revolver in the face of 
 the unarmed prisoner the evening before. 
 
 The doctor was a man of peace, but he eyed this 
 gentleman truculently and growled: "I would give my 
 hopes of future lucrative practice, you wretch, to have 
 just five minutes alone with you on equal terms! " 
 
 Then Nixon, still handcuffed, was jostled around by 
 two dirty soldiers to a place reasonably near the desk, 
 where Colonel Dominguez lolled back with his saber 
 and two loaded pistols within reach. 
 
 A half dozen officers were lounging around the great 
 room, and the tatterdemalion guard stood in array 
 near the door. Their ragged appearance brought 
 no smile to Nixon s lips, for the echoes of that heavy 
 discharge still lingered in his ears. 
 
 The silence was broken by the Comandante s rough 
 voice, as he fixed his glaring black eyes on Nixon. 
 
 "Who are you? Your name, your country, your 
 station ? " the soldier demanded. 
 
 The American returned the insolent stare and replied 
 defiantly: "Send for the American Consul, take these 
 irons off, and I will answer. Not till then /" 
 
 The young officers all sprang up at the bold speech 
 of a lonely prisoner. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" the Comandante 
 continued, with no regard to Nixon s answer. 
 
 A secretary scribbled away in a corner, and gloomily 
 eyed the American as a possible victim of the next 
 official target practice. The tyrant scowled as the 
 prisoner stood mute. 
 
 "Put it down that he does not answer," he shouted. 
 After a dozen more inquiries the Colonel leaned back
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. IOI 
 
 in helpless wrath His eye rested on the officer who 
 commanded the guard. " Did you arrest this man ? " 
 he wrathfully cried. 
 
 The officer saluted. "I found him breaking into 
 Hacienda Romero at Jibacoa with another filibustero." 
 
 " The Cuban who was shot this morning, you 
 mean ? " was the Colonel s rejoinder. 
 
 The officer sprang forward, for Nixon staggered and 
 fell prone on the tiled floor. For the fatal crash of the 
 guns was ringing yet in his ears, whose volley made 
 poor lonely Inez in truth the last of the Romeros. 
 Then in a sickening stupor he heard the Colonel say 
 carelessly: "Did you arrest anyone else lurking 
 around there ? " 
 
 "Yes! there was a young lad who seemed to have 
 no special business there, but we searched him and he 
 had no papers on him like the Cuban. I left him there 
 with the Intendente, whom I met coming back from 
 Mantanzas. Manuela, the housekeeper there, had a 
 peon guarding him, and I told her to let him go in 
 three days if you did not send for him." 
 
 " No papers on him, you say? " queried the watch 
 ful Colonel. 
 
 " Nothing," respectfully answered the man. 
 
 "Then send a trooper up and tell them to let him 
 go where he will," the Comandante ordered. 
 " Were the articles found on the fellow?" demanded 
 Dominguez. 
 
 In a few moments Nixon had the satisfaction of 
 seeing the Colonel calmly enjoying his cigar, as he 
 curiously turned over all the personal articles taken 
 from him the night before. 
 
 " The prisoner had no papers at all? Nothing in his 
 saddle or small baggage ? " sharply continued the 
 official. 
 
 " Not a thing! It was Manuela who found theyf//- 
 bustcro papers in the Cuban s saddle pockets and 
 brought them to me. This fellow let the other do all 
 the talking. He pretended there not to know a word 
 of Spanish, which he speaks well." 
 
 " Where did the two come from ?" said Dominguez. 
 
 "They came from Havana and lounged about a
 
 102 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 little hotel at Jibacoa Bay. As soon as I had your 
 telegram to arrest them 1 watched them from the 
 moment they left the railroad train. I let them break 
 into the old Romero place, for I thought they would 
 meet more of the gang there. But it seems they are 
 only robbers, pecarones, ladrones, for they were poking 
 around the hacienda to find something of value." 
 
 Nixon bowed his face in his hands to conceal the 
 bitter tears. "Poor Felipe! Poor slaughtered boy! 
 Betrayed ! And by whom? " 
 
 Then the fatal imprudence of Felipe at Havana re 
 turned to the doctor s mind. "Some of the officers 
 may have discovered his secret while tipsy," he sadly 
 mourned. With this the thought came to him of the 
 lonely old Don, of the beautiful sister, now alone in 
 the world, and of the exposure of the whole voyage to 
 the resentful Padre Viciente Guerra. " How can I 
 ever answer for this innocent blood?" he groaned as 
 he thought of the boy dying alone in the hands of the 
 brutal guards. 
 
 "I do not see any American papers here," said the 
 Colonel finally, as he gathered up all Nixon s posses 
 sions into a heap before him. 
 
 The boom of a heavy gun suddenly echoed over the 
 bay and shook the rattling casements. It was follow 
 ed by another, and another, until the port salute had 
 been fired. The prisoner sat as in a dream while an 
 adjutant hastily entering saluted and reported: 
 
 "The United States man-of-war Kearsarge is enter 
 ing the port, flying the Admiral s blue peter! " 
 
 Colonel Dominguez started as Nixon raised his head 
 and fixed his clear dark eye upon the military bully. 
 
 " I must go and make my official visit, " he hastily 
 exclaimed. " Captain," he added, " let the American 
 Consul be sent for, and permit him to see this fellow. 
 Of course, if the Consul should demand a private in 
 terview you can allow it. As for the other prisoner, he 
 was a Cuban born, and the rebel Romero s son. He 
 knew when he brought these papers that he took 
 his life in his hand." 
 
 The whole gang of satellites sprang wildly up as 
 Nixon in a ringing voice cried: " Liar! The boy was
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 103 
 
 innocent. The papers were stuffed into his saddle by 
 your own dirty spies ! " 
 
 I ll make you answer for that, you villain! " shouted 
 Dominguez, his saber half drawn as he sprang forward. 
 
 "Coward! you dare not, " answered the infuriated 
 Xixon. The Kearsarge is in port, and the Admiral 
 is my friend! " 
 
 Colonel Dominguez turned pale as he stood there 
 quivering in rage. " See at once if there is any truth 
 m this fellow s story," he said in a low voice as he went 
 clattering out to where the horses had been hastily 
 caparisoned. 
 
 All the way to the embarcadero the plunging steed 
 reared and snorted under the merciless lunges of 
 Dominguez s bloody spurs. " Ca rajo ! " he muttered. 
 "I have the Governor-General behind me. For the 
 telegram was sent two hours ago as he ordered." 
 
 It was a busy afternoon in the official circles of 
 Matanzas. The bay was ploughed with boats going 
 and coming in the ceremonies of the hated republic, 
 exchanging its thin-veiled politeness with the bloodiest 
 crown in the Old World. 
 
 James Nixon, a haggard-eyed man, was only half an 
 hour closeted with the excited American Consul. The 
 incumbent happened to be a man of energy and decision. 
 
 Before he had been five minutes with the en 
 raged prisoner the consular secretary was speeding 
 away to the Kearsarge with a brief letter to Fleet- 
 Surgeon Bradford, U. S. N. , scribbled on a leaf torn 
 from the Consul s note-book, and the official himself 
 was demanding a fitting room and refreshments for the 
 prisoner. This was speedily granted. Then the inter 
 view concluded with these words : 
 
 " All I ask of you, Doctor Nixon, is to remain silent," 
 said the Consul. "I will find out in regard to the 
 poor, butchered boy. I shall send a telegram at once 
 to the State Department, and if you are right I will see 
 that the Associated Press correspondent gives this to 
 the civilized world. If General Romero is a natural 
 ized American citizen, then the boy was simply 
 assassinated! And yet I can see no object in his 
 wanton murder,"
 
 104 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 "Alas, my dear friend," muttered the prisoner, 
 "the lad is dead. The last of a historic line; it 
 will bring his old father s head low soon enough. A 
 sister s broken heart, too. My God! This will 
 shadow my whole life ; for I brought the boy here. 
 Would to God that I had died in his place." 
 
 "There will be reparation for this outrage," ener 
 getically said the excited official as he strode away. 
 
 "Alas," muttered the prisioner, "the meanest gov 
 ernment does not hesitate to brave the American 
 flag. The solid phalanx of seventy millions is in 
 sulted by every popgun South American republic. 
 As for Spain, the Virginius blood is hardly dry yet. 
 Cuba has always been a shambles for the unprotected 
 American." 
 
 "Ah, Nixon," cried the Consul, on his return two 
 hours after. "There never was a sadder story. The 
 poor lad, still suffering from a blow on the head, was 
 thrust into a cell. Dragged before the Comandante 
 he was confronted with the papers claimed to have 
 been found among his effects at the priest s house. 
 Without a friend, without counsel, without a single 
 half hour for thought, the brute Dominguez called in 
 a drumhead court of those base fellows you saw hang 
 ing around him. The boy, ignorant and heedless of 
 what was passing, gave spirited denials and claimed 
 American protection. On his Cuban appearance and 
 the papers, which seem to have been of a revolu 
 tionary nature, the court, assembled at ten, con 
 victed by eleven. The boy, led back to his cell, at 
 half-past eleven was marched out to the quadrangle. 
 The under jailer was touched by his superior refinement 
 and the spirit of his bearing. One touch of nature 
 makes the whole world kin. A priest was dragged in 
 hastily and the poor boy had just ten minutes given 
 him for a brief adieu to earth. The last thing he did 
 was to draw off a little gold ring. Here it is. Por 
 mi hcrmana Inez, Mi querida ! And for his father a 
 lock of his hair. "By jove, Nixon! that lad went 
 out without a tremor to the firing place and cried: 
 Viva la Cuba! as he sprang into the air blown off his 
 feet by a crashing volley."
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 105 
 
 The recital was interrupted by the entrance of a 
 young Cuban officer of the Guardia Civile, who saluted 
 the Consul. 
 
 "Colonel Dominguez leaves this instant for Havana 
 on a special train. He requests you to join him, as he 
 will order the instant release of this gentleman. 
 There is an American naval officer waiting in the 
 Comandante s room for your friend." 
 
 Such was the sentence which ended James Nixon s 
 first and last interment within prison walls. 
 
 "Wait here for a few moments, Doctor," cried the 
 Consul, as he sallied forth. "I will have all your 
 property brought here and Surgeon Bradford escorted 
 to you." 
 
 " I must not let this young fire-eater meet Domin 
 guez," mused the Consul. For there was a steely 
 glare in Nixon s glance which spoke of an eye for an 
 eye, and a tooth for a tooth, the red draconian code 
 of Moses. 
 
 With a rush and a bustle portly Surgeon Bradford, 
 U. S. N., hurried at last into the cuartel. 
 
 " My God ! Jimmy boy, but you have had a rough 
 time. All right now. And that skunk Dominguez 
 has cleared out for Havana. He left orders for you 
 to be sent back with honor to Hacienda Romero, the 
 horses and saddles to be delivered to you, and all 
 expenses paid. 
 
 " The Admiral has already sent for the Consul and a 
 joint report to the State and Navy Department will be 
 telegraphed. So you are all right." 
 
 "All this will not bring back the murdered boy," 
 faltered James Nixon as he grasped his uncle s hand, 
 while his voice trembled. "I am accountable for 
 Felipe s life." 
 
 " Stay ! Perhaps not so. James," soberly said the 
 handsome old surgeon, a blue and gold ladies pet, as 
 he unbuttoned his white frogged relief jacket, "an 
 open telegram to me for you was repeated on from 
 Havana here. I got it on the ship before I knew you 
 were in trouble. I can t make it out, but it looks as if 
 there had been some foul play. "
 
 106 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 " BRADFORD, Kearsarge, Havana. 
 
 Notify Nixon that boy Juan has disappeared, may follow. 
 Beware treachery. 
 
 ABERCROMBY AND LORIMER." 
 
 Nixon swore a bitter oath as he read the lines. 
 
 "If this little scrawl had reached me at Havana, " 
 moaned the doctor, " it would have saved the Romero 
 line and prevented a murder. Felipe was tracked and 
 betrayed. It s the boy and that damned priest." 
 
 "And all because dear old Toplights wanted a 
 breath of sea air," sadly answered Bradford, " for we 
 hadn t a blessed thing to do. Such is life ! Such is 
 fate ! So runs the world away ! Now, my dear fellow, 
 get your traps from these chocolate scoundrels and 
 aboard the Kearsarge. I only wait the hour when 
 Uncle Sam will turn the gray-eyed lean Southerners 
 loose and grab the island. Oh, Jonathan ! How I 
 would like to see Spain get a licking. That wrinkled 
 old Spanish hide is itching for it." 
 
 "Uncle," said James Nixon solemnly, "I have a 
 weighty trust to perform a solemn one. My honor, 
 the fate of a family, lies, like truth, at the bottom of a 
 well, up at Jibacoa. I must go back there. The Col 
 onel has ordered all the honors. I leave the ven 
 geance for this murder in official hands." 
 
 The Consul rushed in. "Come along now, Doctor. 
 I have a carriage waiting. My house is open for you 
 both. And you must get your articles. Come and 
 inspect them." 
 
 "You don t go back to any Jibacoa alone," reso 
 lutely remarked the surgeon. "See here, Mr. Consul, 
 I ll have the Admiral send Nixon up on that steam 
 launch to Jibacoa. Some blue-jackets apparently 
 unarmed can step ashore with him. But every man 
 jack will have two revolvers in his boot legs. I ll go 
 along also, and if there s any blood-letting, I am rignt in 
 that line. We will get under your mahogany on our 
 return. You stay to do what you can to avenge this 
 poor butchered schoolboy." 
 
 " Your plan is a good one," said the Consul. 
 
 As the trio walked out of the cuartel, Nixon turned 
 on the under keeper who had sorrowed over poor Felipe:.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 107 
 
 " Where did they bury him ?" he asked as he handed 
 the turnkey a gold piece. 
 
 "Senor," said the Cuban, "I am poor but I take 
 not the price of blood. It is in the Campe Santo; I 
 placed a cross there myself to mark the spot. Just a 
 rude one, but a cross with the date and my own 
 fie r ma. " 
 
 Nixon turned to the Consul. " The boy came with 
 me. He shall go back with me. Will you demand 
 this, and have the body prepared for shipment to New 
 York at once ? I shall take the first steamer as .soon 
 as I have recovered my property at Hacienda Romero, 
 and restored the horses to the innkeeper." 
 
 So Nixon slept under the Stars and Stripes that 
 night, and groaned that he could not open a double 
 broadside on the cuartel, where Romero s murderers 
 were laughing over their cards at the poor dead boy s 
 plucky death. "But we missed the Gringo," they 
 growled. 
 
 The young adventurer could scarcely believe, as the 
 launch swept in Jibacoa Bay next noontide, that but 
 two days had dreamed along in the golden sunshine 
 and Felipe Romero slept cold in death. A party of 
 American jack-tars escorted him, and Nixon was sternly 
 silent as he drove up the beautiful palm-shaded road to 
 the old hacienda. When the blue-jackets examined the 
 priest s house there was no one to meet them but the 
 consular secretary. "The property is here," he said, 
 " but the sly woman has cleared out." 
 
 "And Juan Valdes with her. Yes, it was Juan," 
 cried the doctor. 
 
 For now the two strange encounters came back to 
 his mind. " I will warrant Padre Viciente knows al 
 ready of the murder. But one thing he does not 
 know!" Turning to his uncle, the young man said: 
 * I dropped my paint box in an old cistern down there. 
 Send the sailors down with me." 
 
 Nixon had prepared a cord and a light grappling 
 iron. While his uncle wandered through the deserted 
 halls, where some of the beautiful women of the Ro 
 mero line had swept along in satin and jewels, the 
 doctor held his breath as the handy sailors brought up
 
 108 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 an assortment of tropical snakes, disjecta membra of 
 all kinds, and finally a leaden case, all covered with 
 dirt and slime. 
 
 "Yes, that s it. That is all," he said, as he stood 
 gazing at the object lying at his feet. 
 
 "I am afraid it is badly damaged," remarked 
 Bradford, who came up as the men laid it on a stone 
 to drain and dry in the sun. 
 
 "Oh, that s of no consequence," carelessly replied 
 the young doctor. "Let us hasten and get back to 
 Matanzas as soon as you can. I must telegraph to 
 Abercromby and Lorimer. Pray God the soil of Cuba 
 may never be pressed by my foot again, until the Stars 
 and Stripes wave over it." 
 
 He strode on, with the leaden casket under his arm, 
 down the abandoned garden and climbed the hill to 
 the priest s house, where the ambulance was now ready. 
 He kept his eyes turned away from the darkened hall, 
 where it seemed he could see graceful Felipe Romero 
 petulantly toiling at digging his own grave! 
 
 "I have it safe, the record of a blood-stained treas 
 ure. Blood-bought again from the keeping of the dead 
 years. And may this blood not be shed in vain, i or 
 if this box be ever opened it will be by an innocent 
 woman s hand, and the last of t!;. Romeros." 
 
 So, heavy hearted even in the hour of this success, 
 Nixon sailed back over the darkening seas to Matanzas 
 and the Kearsarge. 
 
 A sigh of relief escaped the young doctor s breast as 
 he hastily strode below to the stateroom of the fleet 
 paymaster, and that businesslike official cheerfully 
 locked up the rusty leaden casket in the safe where 
 the great stores of Uncle Sam s good green bills were 
 snugly tucked away. 
 
 A rap at the door announced an official message. 
 
 "Admiral Toplights s compliments to Ur. Nixon, 
 
 and he would be glad to see him at once in his cabin." 
 
 "There you are," growled the paymaster. "Old 
 
 father Toplights has some fatherly counsel for you. 
 
 And mind you don t forget what he says. For he has 
 
 the kindest heart and the longest head in the service." 
 
 Nixon sought the rooms once occupied by Winslow,
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 109 
 
 and from which on that Sunday morning off Cherbourg 
 the rosy-faced old sailor cheerfully emerged, saying as 
 the Alabama swept out into range showing her big 
 Blakely teeth: "Take their first fire, Thornton! 
 Get their range. We ll see them a little later ! " 
 
 "Ah, my young friend," earnestly said Admiral 
 Toplights, " pray be seated, and give me your imme 
 diate plans and wishes. As the survivor of this unfor 
 tunate affair you are a marked personage in Matanzas. 
 Pray let me have any letters or telegrams you wish 
 dispatched at once. Have you any important busi 
 ness in the town ? " The fine face of the Admiral was 
 clouded and thoughtful. 
 
 " Only the immediate removal of young Romero s 
 body," soberly said Nixon. "I have a very valuable 
 deposit in the paymaster s safe that is, a very impor 
 tant one. Otherwise I am all ready to step on the New 
 York steamer, which sails, I believe, in two or three 
 days." 
 
 "Ah, very good," answered Admiral Toplights. 
 The Consul has already reported that the remains of 
 your poor friend have been delivered to him, but the 
 port authorities and the steamer agents absolutely 
 refuse to allow the case to be shipped. They allege a 
 fear of New York quarantine. So no way is open for 
 you to reach New York soon, unless you leave the 
 trust of honor to the Consul." 
 
 " I must go back to New York at once. This poor 
 boy s father is my patient. I fear the result of the 
 news which will reach him from the outside. I must 
 send some telegrams and letters; but I ll not desert 
 poor Felipe. Together we came, we have succeeded 
 in a very grave mission, and he must be borne back by 
 me. I dare not trust the other deposit, a grave family 
 matter, to any hand but my own." 
 
 "Then, Doctor, favor me," said the puzzled Ad 
 miral. "Let me think things over till after dinner. 
 Write all your telegrams here at my table." 
 
 The fleet staff lieutenant then entering respectfully 
 handed to Admiral Toplights the bulky morning mail. 
 
 While Nixon s fingers traced dispatches to Lorimer, 
 to Abercrombie, and to Inez Romero, he was startled by
 
 110 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 the Admiral crying out: "Sailor s luck! A telegram 
 from the Secretary to detach the Yantic and send her 
 north at once to the Brooklyn Navy Yard. She is at 
 Havana. I will order her here, for I wish to send 
 some time expired men home on her. So you, your 
 valuable deposit, and all that is left of this poor lad 
 can go north at once, on the Yantic. It also," he 
 said heartily, "saves you all expense." 
 
 "Admiral, I am more than grateful," murmured 
 Doctor Nixon, as he warmly pressed the hand of the 
 kindly commander. "General Romero shall learn of 
 your great courtesy, and his thanks as. well as the boy s 
 sister s gratitude you will learn of later. I I dare 
 scarcely face that poor girl," he faltered. "She will 
 be alone in the world soon." 
 
 "Stay a moment, Doctor," said the Admiral, ashe 
 took the telegrams. " I will also order that when you 
 wish to go ashore, two watch officers and a dozen sailors 
 shall accompany you. It s not an official guard, but it 
 amounts to the same thing," the old warrior grimly 
 smiled. 
 
 That night by the winding Hudson a hurried mes 
 senger rode up to Edgecliff with the fatal words which 
 told anxious Frank Lorimer of the finding of a packet 
 and the untimely fate of the poor lad. 
 
 "Do not inform General Romero till my return. Coming on 
 U. S. corvette Yantic, Letters by this mail." 
 
 The next morning, leaning over the brass-bound 
 rail of the gallant old Kearsarge, James Nixon 
 was snuffing the cool, fresh morning breeze as tlvj 
 deck officer reported: "There s your boat coming in." 
 
 Doctor Jim s heart bounded in happy relief as the 
 tall spars of the Yantic swept up on the blue mar 
 gin of the sapphire sea. He turned his eyes to the 
 port, and his brow darkened as, with black smoke pour 
 ing from her funnels, the New-York-bound steamer 
 passed swiftly out from her buoy, her decks black with 
 passengers. 
 
 " Curse this Spanish chicanery," ejaculated Nixon. 
 "That packet will be in New York four days 
 before the Yantic can reach Sandy Hook. I would 
 have been sailing away on her but for those brutes."
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. Ill 
 
 And Nixon s eyes rested dreamily on the steamer 
 spurning the quiet waters into great foam flakes, 
 as the twisting screw thrust her along over the 
 fairy coral reefs below, where under the sparkling 
 brine the myriad flowers of the sea and vast treasures 
 of under current lige made the blue depths a wonder 
 and mystery of beauty. 
 
 " It is an earthly paradise," he mused. " Beautiful, 
 beautiful Cuba. But this paradise has its serpents." 
 
 This was truer than he knew, for one was departing 
 from it ; Juan Valdes s black dancing eyes were even 
 now glittering at a port-hole of the passing boat. The 
 spy was first a cay ! 
 
 " I will beat him up there ! Anyway, I have earned 
 the padre s regalo," Juan muttered. " I have done his 
 bidding and the Yankee has been foiled. He has got 
 nothing. Felipe is safe. He won t talk ! " And the 
 stony-hearted young scoundrel laughed as he twisted 
 up a corn-husk cigarette. 
 
 " There is a single gleam of comfort, " mused Nixon. 
 " Guerra shall discover naught from the manuscript. 
 For the case shall be instantly deposited in New York 
 behind many bolts and bars, and when Miss Inez 
 Romero breaks the seal of the past, she shall be alone 
 in one of the rooms of the Safe Deposit Company. 
 General Romero shall not know of this find until the 
 padre is far away with that yellow devil, Manuela, at 
 Jibacoa. For the priest would bully the truth out of 
 him." 
 
 By the prudential wisdom of the Admiral, the case 
 which was Nixon s mournful charge was directly sent 
 on board the corvette. The intention of the young 
 doctor to depart was hidden even from every member 
 of the ship s company. The fleet staff lieutenant, the 
 paymaster, and Surgeon Bradford alone shared the 
 knowledge of the Consul and the Admiral. Nixon s 
 slender baggage was secretly removed to the Yantic. 
 It needed but six hours to transfer the home-going 
 crew to the cruiser lying with her fires banked near the 
 flag ship. The Consul had repaired alone to the depart 
 ing vessel, and no one knew when Surgeon Bradford and 
 Doctor Nixon slipped on the Yantic s quarter-deck
 
 112 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 that a new ward-room guest swelled the merry circle of 
 the bright, brave hearts clustered around the hospitable 
 mahogany. 
 
 But the little package under Nixon s arm was safely 
 hidden behind steel plates before he sat down to the 
 last conference with his two friends. "I am now 
 ready for the hardest duty of my life," said James 
 Nixon, as the men began to tramp around in a wild 
 war dance above the anchor. 
 
 "Do not forget, Doctor," returned the Consul heart 
 ily, "use me in all and every way, for your return 
 would be impossible. There would be no official 
 objection, but you would be quietly assassinated, 
 that s all. Oh, I know my dear Cuban friends, my 
 Spanish compadres, very well. As for me, I am as 
 safe as can be. Nothing kills a consul. They say so 
 at Washington. Few die and none resign. 
 
 " Do not forget, James," cries his gallant old uncle, 
 wringing his hand in farewell. 
 
 The young man paced the deck as the /antic *-ose 
 with long, defiant sweeps on the breasting surge, and 
 marked the last flashes of Matanzas light. 
 
 The stout ship danced on northward, while James 
 Nixon found on his sea-tossed pillow a haunting vision 
 of eyes which would brighten, "burning yet tender," 
 on his home coming. 
 
 " I shall never forget this unobtrusive kindness and 
 the Yantic" heartily said Doctor Jim as he stood 
 with the executive officer five days afterward when the 
 stout old cruiser showed her nose resolutely under 
 Brooklyn Bridge and nestled lovingly on the muddy 
 waters of Wallabout Bay. 
 
 " She is," proudly replied Lieutenant Walsingham, "a 
 hospitable ship a good old tub with a fine war record, 
 and has done more sea duty than all these pastry cook 
 pets, the White Fleet. Now, Doctor," added the 
 lieutenant as he swung his trumpet in recognition of a 
 chum on the "Philadelphia," "I know that you are 
 now anxious to go ashore. Let me suggest that I send 
 your embarrassing charge, the body, under a decent 
 guard to the Naval Hospital variet here for a few days. 
 I will not take my leave for three weeks. Telegraph
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 113 
 
 me to the yard, I will meet you and you shall have 
 all the decent facilities we can give. Now, get your 
 things together. I ll send my own man over to New 
 York for you. He has to go with a letter from me, 
 anyway. " 
 
 Then he cried, "Hello! are these your friends 
 Nixon ? " as a boat shot alongside. Springing up the 
 gangway Lorimer and Abercromby grasped the re 
 turned wanderer s hands. 
 
 "Tell me," asked Nixon, eagerly, "Juan Valdes?" 
 
 "He has been back three days," said Lorimer, 
 "and the padre has him by the ear. Mum s the word 
 with both." 
 
 "The Ladies? " 
 All well," answered Frank. 
 
 "And the poor old General?" the question faltered 
 on Nixon s tongue. 
 
 "Ah, Jimmy," sadly said Lorimer, "the poor old 
 King of Emeralds is a King Lear now a wreck! He 
 is wandering in cloudland and you must come up 
 at once."
 
 114 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE VITAL HALF. 
 
 " CAN you come at once ? We have a carriage wait 
 ing. What arrangements do you wish to make about 
 IT?" 
 
 The eager friends were sobered at the idea of 
 Nixon s silent traveling companion. 
 
 Turning without reply the doctor presented his 
 friends to Walsingham. "The Lieutenant has spared 
 me all embarrassment for the present." he remarked. 
 " I wish tc go to lower Broadway, to my bank, first. 
 Then I ll make headquarters at our office. I suppose 
 we will take the night train home, Frank ? " 
 
 " Yes," said his friend, "for God s sake come up with 
 us this evening. Mother and Ethel are both worn out 
 with holding Inez up in this double calamity. By 
 jove ! I forgot. Here s a letter for you from my 
 sister." 
 
 Nixon turned quickly away to hide the red spot that 
 burned on his cheek ; but no one saw it. 
 
 "Nixon, give me your office card," remarked Wal 
 singham cordially. "My man will get your traps over 
 there. He may tack into a saloon or two, but he will 
 beat into port all O. K. , like the jolly old Yantic." 
 
 His brother officers and he warmly wrung the 
 doctor s hand as the three friends stepped out on the 
 Jacob s ladder. 
 
 Nixon was clinging to a small package thrust into a 
 traveling sack. " If I live to cross Brooklyn Bridge," 
 he muttered, " the thing which bears still the unbroken 
 seal of the past will b^ put where even the all-seeing 
 eye of the Church can never violate the secret reserved 
 now for the one who is to lift this strange curse the 
 last of the Romeros." 
 
 It seemed to the young American that he bore a 
 man s life in his hand, and that poor Felipe s passionate, 
 boyish heart beat under his fingers.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 115 
 
 His friends with delicacy were silent, and the doctor 
 trailed his hand over the boat s side to cool his excited 
 nerves. "It is charity it is justice it is fate the 
 General must never know," he decided, "For if I 
 dared to trust him, even in case of apparent recovery, 
 the ecret would be filched from him by the priest. 
 Padre Guerra, it is to the death now, my yellow- 
 faced scoundrel. For the emeralds and for Inez s 
 future inheritance! " 
 
 "I must wait," he mused, as he entered the carriage 
 and drove swiftly away to the Brooklyn Bridge. "The 
 coming diplomatic row ever this murder may result in 
 the Spanish Government lifting the decree of confisca 
 tion should poor old Romero pass on into the dark 
 realm where his crown would be a shadowy one. I 
 shall let the old padre make his game. We must pro 
 ceed quietly to get him out of the villa." 
 
 " Where will you go, Jimmy? "demanded Lorimer as 
 they all left the bridge. 
 
 "To the Equitable Building, Frank," mechanically 
 said Nixon. It seemed now as if he dared not even 
 trust the friends of his heart with the gloomy secrets 
 so sadly sealed with poor Felipe s blood. " That dying 
 priest s curse was an awful legacy," he mused. 
 " Felipe murdered the poor father crazed. And 
 Inez, perhaps, soon to be an orphan and perhaps 
 penniless." 
 
 The carriage stopped under the shadows of Trinity 
 steeple. 
 
 " I will be back in ten minutes," he said. " Then 
 have the driver take all side streets; you cannot get to 
 the office too quick for me." 
 
 Darting in with the crowd Nixon held tightly the 
 sack with the unbroken case which had lain so long 
 resting dehaj<> ht pircrtd mayor. Making a number of 
 turns in alley and arcade he came out at a Broadway 
 corner where a flight of steps led to the entrance of a 
 huge steel-armored safe deposit vault. With a sigh of 
 relief he sped down stairs. "If anyone has tracked 
 us they will be watching that carriage," he mused. 
 
 I he ready official led the young doctor into a closed 
 corridor of the huge thousand compartment steel chest.
 
 Il6 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 A click and a snap and two heavy locks closed on 
 the little leaden chest. Then Nixon signed two names 
 on the register book. The official read after him, as he 
 gave a receipt for a year s fees, the names: 
 
 James Nixon, New York City. 
 
 Inez Romero^ of Edgecliff, Fishkill, New York. 
 
 "Going to be married?" smiled the official, an old 
 friend, with our easy American inquisitiveness. 
 
 "I am thinking of it," evasively remarked the doc 
 tor as he pocketed four little steel keys and then went 
 out quickly by the rear entrance. 
 
 " I don t like to see that bright young fellow marry 
 a foreigner, " mused the steady old official. "But I 
 suppose she has a great fortune, some Mexican or 
 West Indian heiress." Which proves that no one has 
 yet discovered the art of piercing a millstone with a 
 glance, for as Nixon sought a rear street and returned 
 to the carriage he was dreaming of other eyes, loving 
 and tender, not burning Creole eyes, but Anglo Saxon, 
 blue and flashing, under golden hair of a remarkably 
 choice type of the " Daughters of the Revolution." 
 
 Jehu, the son of Nimshi, stood not on the order of 
 his going but whirled them away up the island, 
 followed by the sullenly inquiring eyes of lazy police 
 men, and much sudden profanity from bespattered 
 pedestrians, toned up with howls from an affrighted 
 applewoman and startled newsboys. 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," cried Doctor Jim as they 
 speeded along, "I am going to take the first 
 train. Abercromby, you will be the same dear 
 old fellow if you will hold the fort at the 
 office. Frank, of course, goes with me. I fancy 
 the padre will soon make a break of some 
 kind. If we can chase him out I want you to shadow 
 him thoroughly down here, Abercromby. The docu 
 ments in the padre s possession I shall leave with him. 
 I will make no reference to his having taken away the 
 papers which he found. But if I am once installed in 
 charge of the patient, then I will bring up the subject 
 of that valuable emerald. As a man of law, Frank, it 
 ought to be easy for you to place Inez now in the 
 position of guardian ad litem for her incapacitated
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 1 17 
 
 father, and so go on record as her attorney. That 
 will give you the needed legal power to bully the old 
 crow out. In case I find Romero to be really crazed, 
 then the proper number of physicians should at 
 once be asked by you to present the case to the 
 nearest judge having jurisdiction." 
 
 All right, Nixon, I can fix it up with one day s 
 time when you say go ! " 
 
 "This will show Mr. Padre Guerra that General 
 Romero s child will be safely guarded by the lex-loci. 
 Thank God! We are not in Cuba here." 
 
 "Amen! " said the two listeners heartily. 
 
 " Then you re going to let him kick himself out ? " 
 inquired Abercromby. 
 
 " Yes, with a little well-applied assistance at the 
 right time, " grimly replied Nixon. But how in God s 
 name did the General learn of Felipe s death ? Had 
 the padre the nerve to thrust that news on him ? " 
 
 "Oh, bless your soul, no," spiritedly said Lorimer. 
 "The New York journals published their flaring 
 account of the shooting of the poor lad, mentioning 
 your name as Henry Morgan, though I knew who it 
 was at once." The padre was down at Poughkeepsie 
 on some clerical errand, and Inez was all unsuspecting 
 of danger when a slick gentlemanly youth drove up and 
 requested to see General Jose Romero. He would not 
 state his business to anyone, but insisted on seeing the 
 Don personally. When Inez, guarded by old Basilio, 
 let this smart youth into the room where poor old Jose 
 was dreaming of his vanished emerald treasures, and 
 worrying over the still absent boy, the stranger stuck 
 his card right into the poor veteran s trembling hand. 
 It bore a name unkown to fame s clarion voice as 
 
 yet. 
 
 "Look at it!" And Frank produced from his 
 pocket-book the following: 
 
 H. KINSLEY SYNTAX, 
 
 New York Daily Calliope.
 
 Il8 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 While Nixon examined, the lawyer proceeded with 
 his story. 
 
 " Now, General, the bearer of that card said confi 
 dentially, as he planked himself down on the edge of the 
 bed and yanked out a long reporter s notebook, " you 
 can just run over the morning s issue. If you wish to 
 add anything in regard to this most distressing affair I 
 will give you a couple of columns in our evening s 
 edition. I am holding all the Fishkill wires. No 
 scoop on me, sir, nary a scoop too fly ! " The 
 wondering Don Jose handed the paper to Inez. I 
 do not know how far she read the flaming head-lines 
 before she fell senseless at the reporter s feet. While 
 the women took poor Inez away, Basilio tells me that 
 the " enterprising reporter " enlightened General Ro 
 mero to such an extent that when the padre suddenly 
 returned he found our dear old friend shouting and 
 raving in his excitement. Basilio at once sent the 
 gardener on a run for me, and I met him myself, being 
 ort the road. Sending him on to my mother and Ethel, 
 I arrived in time to give the reporter a few hastily 
 chosen words, which I hope were seasonable." 
 
 Frank s eyes flashed as he sadly continued: " What do 
 you suppose the effect was ? The fellow leaned against 
 the gate post and finished a few last shorthand notes, 
 remarking to me more in sorrow than in anger, Very 
 natural ! I see, family friend and all that. Now what 
 can you object to in this ? The public want the news, 
 do you see ? Must have it. Then he read a few neat 
 head-lines : A Father s Anguish ! At the Bedside 
 of the Cuban Patriot Romero. A Beauty in Tears. 
 Affecting Interview of our Special Correspondent 
 with the old Soldier of Cespedes ! Will you oblige 
 me also with your name ? he added, menacing me 
 fiercely with the point of his pencil." 
 
 "What did you say, Frank?" quickly demanded 
 Nixon with indignant eyes. 
 
 " I energetically damned him and the Daily Calliope 
 and the public and Spain too, for all that cussed 
 brutality in driving the heart-broken old warrior mad. 
 But H. Kinsley Syntax was in his buggy and 
 he swung his hat most forgivingly at me as he cried :
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. IIQ 
 
 A clean scoop! I ve got the wires all tied up 
 for six hours and I will telegraph the whole dictionary 
 to cut off the fellows of the Evening Bugle. They ll 
 be up on the next train. Look out for them. They 
 are no good. I took his hint and put two of my men 
 at once around the house on guard, and H. Kinsley 
 Syntax was the first and last reporter to interview any 
 one at the Villa. That s all," said Lorimer, as they 
 drew up at the office. 
 
 "And the padre? Tell me," remarked Nixon. 
 
 "He talked gravely with Inez, then questioned 
 Basilio, and has never opened his lips to us. He took 
 the whole charge of the sick-room, through I insisted 
 on the local physician having control of the case. 
 Two or three Spanish fellows then came up from New 
 York and lingered all day with Guerra. The General 
 has now fallen into the dejection of hopeless wander 
 ing imbecility; he takes Inez for her mother. He 
 fondles her and croons to her. As for Juan Valdes, 
 he slunk into the Villa three days ago. I asked him 
 no questions, and he clings closely to his uncle s 
 shadow now. But of all this, that which struck me as 
 very strange Padre Guerra has never even mentioned 
 your name." 
 
 "Ah ! that is enough," said Nixon as he sprang up 
 the stairs of his office. Then the three friends were left 
 alone while Abercromby s man ran to the nearest 
 restaurant for a meal. 
 
 "We have full two hours yet before train time, 
 Abercromby, " said Nixon, placing two of the keys in 
 a sealed envelope; "just write your name over that 
 seal. You, too, Frank." When this was achieved, he 
 indorsed the little packet: " Miss Inez Romero, Villa 
 Romero, Fishkill, New York, in care of Frank 
 Lorimer, Esq., Trustee." 
 
 "Just drive down to the Fifth Avenue Hotel and get 
 this little packet in the safe there, and take a receipt 
 as per the address. Then to-night do you send over 
 to Taylor s Hotel, Jersey City, and get all my traps 
 Room 42, Henry Morgan. Here is an order for them. 
 The clerks know my handwriting. This will save me 
 from any possible shadowing."
 
 120 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 While Abercromby was absent, Nixon said gravely: 
 " Frank, you and I have got to see this whole thing 
 through now. Your part is to get Inez to install me 
 legally as the family physician, and you to act as her 
 lawyer. Here are the two keys belonging to me of the 
 Safe Deposit box wherein Miss Inez s leaden 
 case is hidden. Here is the receipt. Now, in 
 case of my death you can take the girl with 
 your mother and sister down there. You must have 
 the first documents all locked up. The newer ones, 
 if any be found, will be needed to complete the revela 
 tion. I will give you the receipt from the Fifth 
 Avenue Hotel. These things must go at once into 
 the vaults of the Fishkill Bank, the very moment it 
 opens to-morrow. So nothing will be found on me if 
 I should be waylaid. If aught happens to me com 
 plete this trust of love ! " 
 
 "What do you mean, Jimmy? " faltered Lorimer. 
 " You have not lost your nerve ? " 
 
 "No, but I may lose my life," answered Nixon. 
 " Poor Felipe was struck down in a far country. I 
 may be paid off here at home. We cannot tell as yet 
 what hidden influence we are fighting." 
 
 "Yes, and carry good revolvers night and day," 
 cried Lorimer in a rage. 
 
 " I presume that Padre Viciente will make some 
 break," suggested Nixon calmly. "He will hardly 
 brook our control ! 
 
 "You remind me of something," said Lorimer 
 hastily. "Young Sheaver has given me a list of the 
 numbers of fifty one-thousand-dollar four per cents 
 United States bonds. The Fishkill Bank has alway. 
 cashed these coupons for the General, but neither the 
 president nor the young cashier can tell me where he 
 keeps them hidden away. Inez knows absolutely 
 nothing. Now, if Don Jose" has them, this priest may 
 wheedle them into his hands for safe keeping. Good- 
 by to the bonds then. This, with occasional pay 
 ments by Munoz from some estates in San Domingo 
 (not under the Spanish power), seem to have been the 
 bulk of Romero s available property." 
 
 "Ah." cried Nixon, starting up as Abercromby
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 121 
 
 returned, followed by the impromptu dinner, "we 
 must head him off at once, then. I see it! Padre has 
 been lingering here only to await the General s death, 
 and will finish when he gets control of the secret of 
 the emeralds. When we get to Fishkill I will go at 
 once over to Villa Romero with you. Remember, 
 Padre Guerra and Juan are two desperate men. Not 
 that I fear, but I may need your action at once. You 
 will see where the padre may forget himself. He will 
 lose his temper at last." 
 
 It was ten o clock that night when Dr. Nixon 
 entered the gate of the Romero villa. Mrs. Lorimer 
 and Ethel, lingering in the garden, exchanged their 
 agitated greetings with the returning adventurer. 
 
 "Thank God, you are come at last!" they both 
 cried, and the amazed Nixon felt Mrs. Lorimer s hand 
 tremble with excitement as she said: " Now I feel safe 
 at last. For Frank to be left alone in this house of 
 mystery is simply tempting strange fates. I fear I 
 know not what." 
 
 During this, a little drama of real life was being 
 enacted in the salon of the lonely house. Sefiorita Inez 
 Romero, pale as marble, but firm and womanly, signed 
 unhesitatingly two papers which Frank Lorimer, 
 attorney and counselor-at-law, had prepared with all 
 due care. 
 
 To the party lingering under the trees Lorimer 
 came striding along quickly over the lawn. "All 
 right, old man," he said lightly. "You are in 
 formal control and I have her letter of retainer. She 
 will go in now with us, so be on your guard." 
 
 Mrs. Lorimer, you can do me a signal favor, " whis 
 pered Nixon. " Pray remain in the salon with your 
 daughter and send Basilio to wait on me at the door of 
 the sick room. I will call him in when I need him. 
 Now," he muttered to himself, " craft against craft. 
 The priest must show his hand." 
 
 When the doctor entered the sick room he was in 
 stantly confronted at the door by Padre Viciente Guerra, 
 whose eyes gleamed ominously. Extended in his bed 
 the old soldier lay like the effigy of a cavalier of other 
 days. His breathing was faint and his lips feebly
 
 122 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 moved in articulate murmurs. Nixon, who had already 
 conferred with the local practitioner, made a gesture of 
 sudden summons, for he saw Juan Valdes seated on 
 guard at the head of the bed. The boy sullenly raised 
 his head, and then dropped his gleaming eyes as he 
 resolutely settled himself in his chair. 
 
 It was a clear case of two Richmonds in the field. 
 Stepping back lightly into an adjoining room, where 
 Lorimer stood, the young doctor was followed by the 
 insolent churchman. 
 
 "I wish to examine the physical condition of my 
 patient, General Romero," said the doctor, calmly. 
 "It is of importance that he should be kept perfectly 
 quiet. Request that young man to leave the sick room. 
 I will now provide all fitting attendance for the sufferer. 
 He must have skilled and proper attention." 
 
 " By what right do you dictate to me? " answered 
 the priest, his voice thick with passion. 
 
 " By this, " answered Nixon. " It is written in English 
 and I will translate it." 
 
 VVasn the brief legal paper was read Padre Viciente 
 broke out in bitter words: " I will only take the young 
 lady s own directions." 
 
 He was astounded when Senorita Inez at once en 
 tered the room, quietly remarking: "I now give over 
 the entire charge of my father s present condition and 
 care to Doctor Nixon." 
 
 " Will you please tell that young man to come forth," 
 coolly said the practitioner. 
 
 There was a stubborn silence. 
 
 At a sign Basilio appca/ed, respectfully saluting the 
 young physician. "I hope there will be no necessity 
 to use any force here, " continued Doctor James. My 
 friend Mr. Lorimer is the proper legal representa 
 tive of Miss Inez. I will now leave you with my posi 
 tive orders not to enter that sick room until I per 
 mit it. " 
 
 The astonished priest was left alone, for the physi 
 cian passed through the open door, which Mr. Frank 
 swiftly locked from the other side. Basilio stood at 
 the other door of the sick room. 
 
 Light as a panther s stride was the spring which
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 123 
 
 brought Nixon to the side of Juan Valdes, who started 
 up. An iron grip on the youth s arm pinioned him, 
 while Lorimer pointed to the door. On the threshold 
 the party were met by Padre Guerra, who had essayed 
 the other entrance. Twisting the struggling youth 
 out of the door Doctor Nixon signed to Basilio, who 
 placed himself in front of it. 
 
 "I will give your nephew just half an hour in 
 which to leave the premises forever," vigorously re 
 marked Lorimer. " He knows the way to the village. 
 If he does not go I shall have my own two men put 
 him off the grounds at once. And if he comes back 
 he risks his life ! His refusal will force me to send you 
 out of the house also, with him!" 
 
 The priest, blind with rage, gave orders by signal to 
 Juan Valdes, who moved to leave the house. 
 
 "Stay," said Lorimer. "Basilio will go with this 
 youth and see him off the grounds. All his personal 
 effects will be sent to him whenever you say. Now 
 you and he know that I absolutely forbid him to set 
 foot on the grounds under any pretense." 
 
 "This is your work, you Yankee schemer," furi 
 ously cried Guerra. "You lured away the poor lad 
 Felipe to his ruin." 
 
 "Did your friend the Spanish Consul-General tell 
 you that?" said Nixon coldly. "You can apply to 
 him for any information. Now mark me ! You are 
 simply a stranger here. For General Romero has 
 no longer any control of his own legal actions. If you 
 meddle I will have the constables eject you to-morrow. 
 You may remain for a reasonable time, until General 
 Romero shall be removed to a retreat or recover so 
 that he can travel. But it depends upon your own 
 prudent conduct." 
 
 The priest turned back without a word, then walked 
 away baffled. 
 
 "Frank," said Nixon, "now take all the ladies 
 home. Go to the bank in the morning and deposit 
 these keys. Let your mother take Miss Inez with her 
 for to-night. To-morrow be sure and get the tempo 
 rary order appointing Miss Inez as guardian of her 
 father. Leave your n en here. Basilio and I will
 
 124 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 watch all night. Here are two telegrams which I wish 
 you would send in the morning as soon as the office 
 opens." 
 
 Lorimer grasped Nixon s hands. " I am afraid to 
 leave you here alone. Let me stay." 
 
 James Nixon s eyes flashed. "Besides my loaded 
 revolver I have also a good club ! " Then he handed 
 his comrade Felipe s little golden ring. " Give this to 
 that sweet girl and tell her it was the last thing her 
 brother kissed in life that he thought of her when 
 he faced the rifles. This lock of his hair was a gift to 
 the poor King of Emeralds. I cannot bear to tell Inez 
 yet the whole hidden story of how they did him to 
 death ! Don t fear for me. Tremble only for this 
 yellow-faced old conspirator. Basilio has a great de 
 sire to knife him, and he knows it, too. Go, Frank ; I 
 want to watch the poor old boy and study him." 
 
 Silence silence in the sick-chamber where the young 
 physician watched for long hours every movement of 
 the uneasy sleeper. The veteran s fingers moved in 
 the mechanical motions of devotion. His parched 
 lips murmured : " Panchita ! Panchita ! " as his eyes, 
 staring vacantly, rested on the picture gazing down 
 above his head, the guardian angel of his saddened 
 life. To Nixon s ministrations he gently submitted as 
 he strove to read in his face the key of the dreams 
 which thronged upon that poor old tired brain. 
 
 " There is nothing left to hope for nothing but to 
 wait for the sweep of the dark angel s wing, " mur< 
 mured the doctor, at three o clock, as he noted the 
 effect of a gentle anodyne. " It is ebb tide, alas! with 
 the poor old boy." 
 
 The physician mused sadly upon the problem before 
 him. " He may not ever recover to give an intelligent 
 account of his affairs. Such poor provision as is made 
 for Inez may be scattered or lost. Those missing 
 bonds! " 
 
 Thoroughly familiar with the old villa, Nixon 
 reflected that he had nowhere seen a safe or a strong 
 box. "Can he have hidden the bonds away in the 
 room? Even President Shearer has never handled them. 
 They are certainly not in New York, for he always
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 125 
 
 sent the coupons down from here. Can the padre have 
 taken them for deposit or tricked him out of them? " 
 
 By a sudden instinct the young doctor began to 
 study the whole surroundings of the sick-room. The 
 floor was of old-time stained polished oak, covered with 
 rugs and mats. " He would not be likely to break 
 that up. Too hard a task for a delicate man." 
 
 Beginning systematically, Nixon examined all the 
 walls with care, and moved every curtain, even turning 
 aside the few pictures hung upon the dark wainscot. 
 There were no closets or cupboards and the dressing 
 rooms were adjoining. " He would try and keep them 
 near his bed, where he could see them if he wished 
 to." 
 
 So, candle in his hand, Nixon inspected the walls 
 breast high around the room. They were all shin 
 ing with the dark polish of bygone years. He even 
 passed his hands over the broad framings of the doors. 
 Suddenly he bent to the closer examination of the 
 facings of the doorway wherein he had exhibited his 
 revolver so impressively to the padre. A fine line 
 divided transversely the smooth surface above a banded 
 moulding. The closest examination showed a faint 
 division, as if mad&with a watch-spring saw. 
 
 " Here is a bit of neat cabinet-work," mused Nixon. 
 " If I were a Yankee born I would soon find out the 
 reason of this division." 
 
 The clock ticked away noisily in the front hall as 
 the doctor prodded the woodwork. Finally, by mere 
 hazard he pressed back a part of the door frame, which, 
 sliding back, disclosed a small cavity in the boxwork of 
 the door jamb. Some brown documents lay therein. 
 
 The next second he drew out the papers ! 
 
 A slight noise startled him. Turning his head, he 
 beheld Jose sitting up in the bed and clutching excit 
 edly at the air. His lips moved in an unintelligible 
 protest, and as Nixon sprang to his side the old man s 
 feeble head fell back in a swoon. 
 
 Five minutes later the doctor picked up a heavy 
 envelope which had fallen out of the opened hiding- 
 place. It was one of the stiff pasteboard envelopes 
 used for documents, and bore in large letters the
 
 126 HI8 CUBAN 
 
 words: "Winslow, Lanier &: Co., Bankers and Brokers, 
 13 Wall street, New York City, N. Y." 
 
 It was only the work of a moment to explore the 
 little cachette. There were three other similar cases, 
 and all were empty. 
 
 Nixon sat down and buried his head in his hands. 
 "We have made a mistake. Padre Guerra must not 
 go forth until the missing bonds have been found. 
 For in these cases they were once concealed, there 
 seems to be no doubt, and they are not far from the 
 person of this schemer. Here is the place to study 
 him but New York is the point to watch for the bonds, 
 which were probably stolen since the General s mental 
 aberration, either by him or with the help of his 
 Spanish friends. It is the emerald store which has 
 held him here, a crown of ill omen to the last. I 
 think I will surprise you to-morrow, padre mio \ " 
 mused Nixon. 
 
 With a relief from Basilio the doctor divided the 
 night between snatches of sleep and studying the 
 solution. 
 
 It was nine o clock on a golden morning when Mrs. 
 Lorimerand party were welcomed at the front driveway 
 by the physician. Inez was desperately anxious for the 
 doctor s verdict. 
 
 "I can tell you more by this evening," he 
 said. " Jacoby and our local friend will go over the 
 whole case in counsel. I have telegraphed for the New 
 York specialist and also for a good, reliable man nurse. 
 With a grave courtesy to Inez, Nixon then led Mrs. 
 Lorimer aside. 
 
 "There is absolutely no hope," he said. "It may 
 be a matter of a few days or a very few weeks. But I 
 must try to bring on a last nicker of the lamp. To 
 night I will tell you all, when Frank is at hand. 
 There are some business matters which demand our 
 instant action. Now, pray have Inez ask Padre 
 Guerra to join us for a few moments. It is imperative. " 
 
 The priest walked out upon the lawn with lowering 
 brows. He was humiliated and abashed, and yet for 
 all his wrath he dared not risk an open rupture almost 
 in the presence of death.
 
 HIS CUBA^T SWEETHEART. \2 j 
 
 tl Padre Guerra," said Nixon, advancing and extend 
 ing his hand, "do not add to this young lady s sor 
 rows. There should be no conflict between us. I 
 insisted properly upon the removal of your trouble 
 some young nephew, who has caused much annoyance 
 here. You might see at once that he continually 
 recalls the loss of General Romero s son. As for your 
 self, I am content that you should remain and minis 
 ter, spiritually, to Don Jose. But, old friend as you 
 are of the invalid, I demand the entire control of my 
 patient s sick-room. In due and proper time you shall 
 have all opportunity of access to his person. Now, 
 will you force me to use the power of the law, or will 
 you remain and aid us in watching for the return of 
 General Romero s reason, or the final event ? I have 
 no objections to your remaining in fact, I prefer it, 
 if you will only apply to me for access to him. It is 
 for you to decide, as we have strict laws hei\,, and I 
 say frankly that I will do my duty as a sworn physician. 
 Do you agree to my terms ? " 
 
 His voice was even conciliatory. 
 
 The black eyes flashed out one resentful gleam at 
 the cool young American, but the padre said slowly : "I 
 do. I will remain and minister to my charge." 
 
 " Then we shall surely grow to be the better friends 
 every day," cordially remarked Nixon. "Will you 
 allow me to ask you before Miss Inez as to the where 
 abouts of the General s documents which you sent to 
 New York, and also the emerald, which you are aware 
 is of great value ?" 
 
 The mestizo sullenly said: " The documents are in 
 expert hands in the city and I have the emerald here." 
 
 The ladies exchanged anxious glances as Nixon sug 
 gested pointedly: "Mr. Lorimer has begged me, then, 
 to ask you to return the documents at once here, and 
 also to deliver over the emerald for safe keeping. It is 
 his duty as Miss Inez s lawyer now to take full charge of 
 matters connected with the estate of the sick man. She 
 is responsible to the courts now for all business mat 
 ters." 
 
 Viciente Guerra strode swiftly to the house and 
 returned in a moment with a small case, which he
 
 128 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 handed to Inez. " I will at once write to the experts 
 in New York and have the papers returned without 
 delay," he gravely said. "It is the hour for my usual 
 devotions. Can I do aught else for you?" 
 
 The doctor bowed, and the group was left wonder 
 ing on the lawn as Guerra paced back to the house. 
 
 "I was right," mused Nixon, as he walked apart. 
 " This man dare not now leave suddenly. He has either 
 secreted the bonds here or else he awaits their realiza 
 tion in New York. Europe is no place to sell them." 
 
 High noon brought back Francis Lorimer, Esq., in 
 the eager elation of success. "All right," he said, as 
 he leaped lightly from the buggy. "The Judge signed 
 the order at once, and I have had the keys safely locked 
 up. All quiet here ? " 
 
 Nixon nodded an approval. " I will give you just ten 
 minutes with Miss Inez, Frank,"" he remarked. "Then 
 we have a new and serious matter to meet. Join me 
 in the summer house." 
 
 Nixon stole back into the house, and, finding Don 
 Jose calmly asleep, quietly removed the four envelopes 
 which had contained the missing bonds. They were 
 covered with the usual private marks common to the 
 New York dealers in such securities. 
 
 Five minutes after he displayed these secretly to the 
 lawyer. 
 
 "You are a jewel, Jimmy," heartily said Lorimer. 
 " Now I have a good excuse not to let his Reverence 
 leave here till he restores the papers at New York. 
 Abercromby can be here at eight o clock. When 
 our friend goes back to-morrow morning he will 
 have the list of the bonds which young Sheaver has 
 given me, and their New York agent can prove the 
 quarterly collection of these. There is a special 
 branch of the New York police force which is devoted 
 to tracing missing securities. The first man who offers 
 a single coupon or a bond of that lot will be promptly 
 arrested and lodged in a cell alone. Then we can work 
 on the padre and frighten him. Should Don Jose have 
 even ten minutes lucid interval, I must have you with 
 me to learn of his last wishes, his will and all his San 
 Domingo affairs. But, first, these stolen bonds! It is
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 129 
 
 for poor Inez we fight now. The emerald legacy can 
 be hunted for later. I will trap some guilty one in a 
 week. For the coupons are about falling due and 
 ready money is ready money all the world over. " 
 
 I wish I felt as confident of my patient," sighed 
 Nixon. "But here are my two medical friends coming. " 
 
 An hour later the great specialist gravely summed 
 up the situation. It makes little difference, gentlemen," 
 he said quietly, "whether it is a mere heart failure 
 the action of a brain blood clot, of a sudden stroke of 
 brain paralysis bringing final stupor and death. There 
 is no hope. 
 
 "Be prepared. for the end at any time," added the 
 leading light, as he stepped into his waiting carriage. 
 "The chances are a thousand to one against any return 
 to reason." 
 
 That day was a busy one for Doctor Abercromby 
 which initiated him into all the mysteries of the secret 
 financial police life of New York. "Thank Heavens ! 
 I am done with all this Hawkshaw business for twelve 
 hours," said the tired comrade. "I feel as if I had 
 honestly earned one of the emeralds; that is, if they 
 ever materialize. But I ve now stopped all the foxy 
 padre s financial games in grand good style." 
 
 Three days later the sun slowly faded over the Hudson 
 hills, and a silent gathering watched the sunset fires burn 
 out upon the meadows, sweeping donw far below Edge- 
 cliff. The portico of Villa Romero showed the sad circle 
 of Don Jose s friends lingering there, for the old man s 
 life was now ebbing away. Doctor Nixon, some 
 what apart, was earnestly listening to Frank Lorimer, 
 whose face was puzzled in its air of doubt as he said : 
 I hardly know what to advise. The priest is certainly 
 very tractable. Now, you see, Munoz writes me that he 
 has no bonds on deposit, and that he knows of no large 
 financial investment made lately by our poor demented 
 friend. His accounts current show the manage 
 ment only of the San Domingo estates, and he offers 
 courteously the whole accounts and vouchers for our 
 inspection. With Abercromby keenly on the watch at 
 New York, the bonds cannot be marketed in America 
 without our knowing it. I have cabled, and the
 
 13 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 numbers are now on the black lists in Lon 
 don, Amsterdam, Paris, Frankfort and Berlin." Then 
 he suddenly added : "The padre ! he is far too slick, 
 too patient, too good. He has humbly lowered the 
 black flag he nailed to the mast on his arrival. Can it 
 be that he has sent all these bonds away by Juan Val- 
 des, and will quietly slip away later ? You see how 
 cheerfully he returned the old parchment." 
 
 "Yes," doubtfully remarked Nixon. "He has 
 surely some other point to make yet ; and has trimmed 
 his sails now to meet our breeze. Inez tells me that 
 the priest has not referred even once to her brother s 
 death. This is strange. Is it fear, or is it some yet 
 darker mystery ? I do not like to leave the place until 
 we trace out the bond disappearance. It may be poor 
 Inez s only mainstay in the future." 
 
 Frank cast a quick glance to where the girl, now 
 robed in deepest black, sat between her silent friends. 
 "There are brighter days in store," softly said Lori- 
 mer in a manly tone, and the hush of the evening 
 deepened upon them, for his friend understood the 
 golden heart of youth lay at her feet. 
 
 " I must take my place now at the bedside," quietly 
 whispered Nixon as the moonlight began to steal among 
 the trees. 
 
 "Ah!" the doctor started forward as the trained 
 nurse eagerly beckoned him. " What is it, Simpson ?" 
 
 "Come quickly. He is awake and very much ex 
 cited. I fear that the time is coming." 
 
 " Be ready with Inez. I will send the man out to 
 you, Frank ! " 
 
 A single glance as the physician entered told him that 
 the last flicker of life was giving its weird exaltation to 
 the dreams thronging the poor brain. Turning to the 
 nurse who had already watched five hundred deathbeds, 
 the young doctor said: " Simpson, how long since this 
 mental fever blazed up ?" 
 
 " Just now, sir," replied the wary attendant. "He 
 tried to rise and has since been calling: Panchita! 
 My Panchita? and stretching his arms out to the pict 
 ure there. " 
 
 " Pray step out and ask Mr. Lorimer to request Miss
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 13! 
 
 
 
 Inez to step here at once. Let her come alone. It may 
 quiet him." 
 
 The ( ark-robed beauty glided into the room and 
 knelt tiiently at her father s bedside. Her hands 
 gently pressed his chilled palm as she murmured a 
 flood of endearing words in her childhood s tongue. 
 With a frightened inquiring look she turned to the 
 doctor. "He is whispering to me and calling me 
 Panchita. It is my mother whom he sees not poor 
 Inez." 
 
 "Speak to him, it may calm him," answered the 
 young physician, as he listened to the trembling words 
 of fond endearment falling from the veteran s lips. 
 
 The window was opened to admit the fragrant sum 
 mer breeze of the still night. A silver moonlight stole 
 in and lit up the chamber where, but one shaded lamp 
 burned at the farther end. Behind them, rosary in 
 hand, stood Padre Guerra, spectral in his long black 
 robe. His murmur alone broke the hush of the 
 moment. Among the girl s flowing locks the old man .s 
 feeble hand was wandering and his face beamed in the 
 moonlight. He faltered tenderly: " Sing to me, Pan 
 chita, sing, mi querida ! Now you have come back to 
 me! I have waited for you so long, Panchita! Waited, 
 and now you shall sing to me. Your owi song." His 
 voice was eager as he gazed up into the sheaf of moon 
 beams falling around him. 
 
 " What is it, this song?" whispered the doctor as 
 the girl turned her beautiful wistful face toward him. 
 
 " A little one that I used to sing him. My mother s 
 own song. He loved it so!" 
 
 " Sing it softly. It may recall him to you. It may 
 break his last dream and bring him back to you again 
 to know you!" gravely ordered the young doctor. 
 
 Sweet and low the girl sang in a quaint old Spanish 
 fashion. Her father s hands sought hers as she 
 chanted in the silent night. 
 
 The song ceased, but in fond murmur Don Jose was 
 still wandering with the Lady of Jibacoa. He clung 
 to the slender young hand which would fain warm his 
 chilled palm with the generous blood of loving youth. 
 
 "Felipe, too! I see little Felipe running to meet
 
 132 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 us. Let us go home now, Panchita, for the moon is 
 going down! " 
 
 With a crash a galloping horse drew up on the grav 
 eled walk before the portico of the Villa. 
 
 "Doctor Nixon, instantly! No one else," cried a 
 sharp ringing youthful voice. "I ve a telegram for 
 him ! " 
 
 Frank Lorimer stepped quickly over the threshold of 
 the sick-room and then touched Nixon s arm. 
 
 "Come at once; only for a moment," and so the 
 doctor left Inez kneeling by the sufferer. 
 
 Springing softly along the hallway, Nixon was con 
 fronted by a bright faced village lad. " Special deliv 
 ery, and an instant answer," he said, as he gazed at 
 his horse standing there with quivering flanks. 
 
 Under the nearest hall light Nixon, tearing open the 
 fateful yellow envelope, read the words of portent. He 
 cried in joy: "Checkmate, Padre Viciente!" as he 
 studied each cheering word. It ran as follows: 
 
 " Unknown Spaniard arrested with all the past due coupons 
 on his person at Hernandez. Money Exchange, Lower Broad 
 way, Cuban steamer tickets found on him. Look sharp around 
 you. Will hold the man. It is a United States arrest. Tele 
 graph directions. Can Frank come down ? Answer. Will 
 hold man without bail. ABERCROMBY." 
 
 "Wait a moment," said the startled doctor, as he 
 walked toward the sick-room. 
 
 The sound of a smothered cry reached him. As 
 he strode into the chamber Frank Lorimer was raising 
 the prostrate form of Inez Romero. For her father s 
 hand had relaxed in death, and Viciente Guerra was 
 raising his voice in solemn prayer over the dead 
 cavalier s body.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 133 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE INNOCENT HAND BREAKS THE SEAL. 
 
 DOCTOR NIXON turned and quietly summoned Mrs. 
 Lorimer and Ethel. " Pray lead her away for a few 
 moments," and he pointed to the sorrowing girl. 
 Then drawing Frank out of the death chamber, the 
 doctor handed him the despatch. Lorimer sank into 
 a chair and lapsed into an earnest study. They 
 were sitting in the ante-room in full view of Padre 
 Guerra, now busied with his religious duties. 
 
 " This whole thing turns now only on our handling 
 this man properly," remarked Nixon in a whisper. 
 " And it must be done at once. We must avoid all 
 public scandal and he must not leave here till the 
 bonds are traced." 
 
 " We must keep him away from this fellow in prison 
 and work on the two separately, " answered Frank. As 
 for Guerra, let us begin to-night. He is shocked and 
 unmanned by this sudden event. Let me talk to you 
 very threateningly in English, which you can interpret 
 to him when I give you the tip." 
 
 In five minutes the clatter of hoofs told of the 
 departure of the telegraph messenger. 
 
 The house was in a strange brooding silence. The 
 moon sailed high over the trees and the night winds 
 wailed a wild requiem for the dead. 
 
 " Now," said Lorimer, who had arranged the Library 
 for a conference, "ask the padre to step out, for the 
 constable will be here in half an hour. I want him to 
 play him a little on the line before we land him." 
 
 Viciente Guerra looked up in grave surprise as 
 Doctor Nixon laid his hand on his arm. " Pray join 
 us for a few moments in the library. It is very 
 important. There are duties to the living as well as 
 to the noble man who is gone ! " 
 
 With an air of reluctance the sullen Cuban adven 
 turer followed the doctor. The library was well
 
 134 HI S CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 lighted, and as the two men entered Frank Lorimer 
 calmly arose and locked both the doors, pocketing the 
 keys. The action was not lost on Viciente, whose 
 furtive eyes sought the windows, but he restrained 
 himself as yet. 
 
 "You are aware, Padre Guerra, " began Nixon, 
 " that Miss Inez is now the sole .representative of her 
 race. Left alone in the world, her lawyer and the 
 family of Mr. Lorimer are her only friends. We 
 must be busied at once with the case of General 
 Romero s estate, as well as the necessary arrange 
 ments for his funeral." 
 
 Here the padre startled them : "I shall have to go 
 at once down to New York," he solemnly said. " The 
 General died without the last rites of the Church. He 
 was not prepared, and there is an old excommunication 
 still hanging over the family. I must take advice as 
 to what form of burial I may properly give him." 
 
 Nixon hurriedly translated these remarks. His col 
 league s eyes answered him. 
 
 He turned again to the priest. " We will relieve 
 your mind of any anxiety and responsibility. Mr. 
 Lorimer, as legal representative, and myself will ascer 
 tain at once Senorita Inez s wishes. There are Ameri 
 can priests at Poughkeepsie, and all fitting and proper 
 funeral ceremonies shall be had. Mr. Lorimer is going 
 hurriedly to New York to-morrow, and he can 
 accompany you. We also have to make proper 
 arrangements. The details of the preparation will 
 naturally fall into my hands." 
 
 " He was my friend and personal penitent. He was 
 not prepared," stubbornly said Guerra, who now saw a 
 little cloud no bigger than a man s hand, though 
 unsuspicious of any grave trouble. 
 
 " Pardon me, Guerra, he was a beloved friend 
 to all of us. A friend to every man worthy of his 
 friendship. He was God s penitent, not yours ! As 
 for his preparation, his good, gray head was sobered in 
 chastening sorrow. He went out on his lonely way 
 under the eyes of innocence, and leaning still on the 
 love of the wife who had gone before him." 
 
 "I shall certainly claim aU my rights. I shall appeal
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 135 
 
 to Seiiorita Inez herself," cried the priest, starting up. 
 
 Pardon me, " said the doctor, as he stepped between 
 the angry man and the door. "No one shall break in 
 on that girl s sacred sorrow, not even you. There is no 
 one here under your spiritual control. Still, as a guest, 
 the only guest in this house of mourning, you have 
 grave duties. I call on you now, both as a friend and 
 an honest man, to aid us for General Romero s sake!" 
 
 "What would you? "replied the startled priest. 
 
 "I will tell you," answered Nixon, sternly. "A start 
 ling event has happened which throws a dark shadow 
 upon this household and those who have had access to 
 the sick man for the past weeks." 
 
 The priest wes gazing dumbly from one hostile face 
 to the other. A low tap at the door aroused Lorimer, 
 who unlocked it and then spoke a few words to two 
 robust men, who sat down on watch in the hall in full 
 view. It was singular that Lorimer left the door open 
 as he seated himself. Padre Guerra was a little 
 uneasy, but he still wore his professional smile. The 
 white teeth flashed out yet under the thin, cruel 
 lips. 
 
 Both the Americans moved up a little closer to 
 Guerra, as the doctor said, firmly: "A Spaniard who 
 has been here, who has been seen hanging around 
 Villa Romero, has been arrested to-day in New 
 York City with a mutilated portion of valuable securi 
 ties belonging to the dear General. He is in prison 
 now, and. will be kept in solitude there and," Nixon 
 pointed to the hall "these officers are here now to 
 make other arrests, for the articles stolen are of enor 
 mous value. The house, and every one in it, is now under 
 the proper espionage of the law. Detectives at New 
 York, Fishkill and Poughkeepsie are awaiting anyone 
 who may try to leave here without our sanction. For 
 Mr. Lorimer legally represents the estate, and I will 
 aid him in tracing out the thief, whoever he is." 
 
 " Who is this person apprehended?" defiantly said 
 Guerra, though his voice had a feeble ring. 
 
 "lam not permitted to tell you, sir," remarked 
 Nixon, rising and gazing firmly in the padre s eyes. 
 " But it is a person you know, sir. And, moreover, in
 
 136 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 addition, we have brought you here to tell you that we 
 shall also request the immediate arrest of your nephew, 
 Juan Valdes. " 
 
 My nephew a thief ! This insult I will have a sum 
 mary redress. The Spanish Consul-General will pro 
 tect me ! " cried Guerra, rising and pacing the room, his 
 breast heaving in rage. 
 
 Frank Lorimer noted that the mestizo eyed them 
 both, with an intense anxiety. 
 
 " The Spanish Consul-General may himself have to 
 explain the foul conspiracy which led to the brutal and 
 cowardly murder of Felipe Romero, Seiior Guerra," 
 cried Nixon, with flashing eyes. 
 
 " Do you think that Juan Valdes was connected with 
 this robbery ? " raged the priest, who remarked that 
 Nixon had addressed him as Senor Guerra. 
 
 "I am quite sure of it," coldly said the doctor. 
 "You introduced him to the sick-room, from whence 
 the property was stolen, while Don Jose lay there 
 under your spiritual charge and presumable friendship. 
 Will you produce the lad quietly, or shall we have to 
 arrest both him and you together ? " 
 
 "I defy you to arrest me. I am a priest and a 
 foreigner, not subject to your local laws," roared the 
 irate padre. 
 
 "If I lift a single finger," said the doctor, "those 
 two men will enter, and you will be the first in custody. 
 Juan Valdes we can get when we want to. He is not 
 far away." 
 
 The shot told. Guerra sank back in his chair and 
 covered his face with his hands. " It is a dirty, low 
 conspiracy," he hissed. "What has been stolen ?" 
 
 "That you will find out soon enough," simply said 
 Nixon. " Perhaps this man now in irons in New York 
 may be one of your penitents." 
 
 The priest groaned. "I can reveal nothing, even if 
 they should tell me of misdeeds in confession." 
 
 "True," answered Nixon "But as a man, as a 
 priest, as a gentleman, you can greatly aid in the 
 restoration of the stolen securities. Think it over ! 
 You may as well understand that you are under grave 
 suspicion, as well as your scapegrace nephew. We
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 137 
 
 have two warrants here already sworn out ready for the 
 public arrest of yourself and Juan Valdes. You also will 
 have to prove your innocence before you can leave 
 this house free of custody." 
 
 Lorimer s eyes were now flaming like blazing coals 
 ashe backed Nixon s words with his resolute glance. 
 
 " Go it, Jimmy," he whispered. "The padre is in 
 shallow water." 
 
 Nixon continued: " You introduced several unknown 
 Spaniards here during my short absence. That 
 poor orphaned girl who trusted you blindly has 
 been robbed to an enormous extent. The grip of 
 the law has already nabbed one scoundrel caught 
 in the act. Padre Guerra ! You were respon 
 sible for that sick-room. You were the only one who 
 had control here for weeks unwatched. It was in that 
 time the half-crazed man was robbed and you cannot 
 go forth clean-handed. If you wish to save a family 
 scandal, if you wish to save your name, you will choose 
 your own way to find this criminal. I will tell you 
 for your own information that the property is 
 valueless to the thief, for every banker of repute 
 has now a list of the stolen securities. The same 
 trian which takes Mr. Lorimer to the city conveys 
 the ban k officials to swear to the stolen goods 
 partly recovered. Now, do you wish to be on hand in 
 New York to hear the confession of the Spanish 
 thief whom we have locked up there ? I will give 
 you half an hour to think this matter calmly over. I 
 am now going into the presence of your dead friend, 
 who was both gallant and loyal to all. You have 
 seen his face for the last time if the property is not 
 returned. When you wish to speak to me Mr. Lorimer 
 will call me out. In the meantime one of the consta 
 bles will take my place here." 
 
 "It s a pretty bold bluff, Nixon," whispered Lori 
 mer, as the doctor turned to go, "but it will fetch 
 some kind of a fish. I think you ve touched him pretty 
 closely on Juan." 
 
 The padre s lips twitched as the burly constable 
 entered at a sign and seated himself in readiness in a 
 far away corner of the room.
 
 138 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Lorimer s gaze rested on an evening journal before 
 him and under it lay Nixon s hammerless revolver. 
 
 Guerra marched up and down the room, his face 
 working in a storm of silent emotion. The glittering 
 black eyes turned on the sturdy constable. 
 
 " Now I wonder what monkey shines this fellow h^s 
 really been up to," thought the village Dogberry. 
 
 In the vexing torture of uncertainty as to who occu 
 pied the New York prison cell, Padre Guerra s brain 
 was working like lightning. He was pondering upon 
 the possible result of a stubborn silence. Then the 
 open disgrace of publicity -rose up before him, backed 
 by the added fear of substantial punishment. If 
 Juan were only out of the way," the priest gnashed 
 his teeth as he pondered. " The boy is a reckless fool. 
 He may get frightened and betray all he knows of the 
 following of Felipe. He always was a liar! And who 
 is in the cell? Is it Juan or 
 
 The young lawyer was still intent upon the journal; 
 but Viciente Guerra observed that the constable never 
 took his singularly disturbing eyes away from him in 
 his uneasy march up and down. 
 
 "Dare I let this sharp Gringo go down there alone 
 to New York? He may use threats, or cajole the other 
 one. And I, where would I be then? Tied up here, 
 some other favorite of the Governor-General may be 
 put in charge of Hacienda Romero." 
 
 In the long, silent tramp the padre alternated between 
 the Scylla of prison and the Charybdis of lost honor, 
 place and prestige at home, with a final separation 
 from the "flesh pots" of the Romero family. Under 
 his breath he swore a great oath: " Madre de Dws ! I 
 will find my way yet to that sneaking doctor s heart if 
 it is the work of long years." But he dared not make 
 any sign of wrath and he feared the coming morn 
 ing. 
 
 When Nixon returned, it was from the room where, 
 in charge of Loriiner s mother and sister, the despoiled 
 heiress was sleeping worn out with the weight of her 
 fast-coming sorrows 
 
 "Poor child! I have given her what I cannot claim 
 to-night for myself the dull., inert sleep of forgetful-
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 139 
 
 ness," thought the doctor, as he walked in and made a 
 significant sign to the constable. 
 
 He walked up to Lorimer and whispered in an omi 
 nously low tone. Then his fine personal inheritance of 
 a Celtic temper got the upper hand. He abruptly blew 
 ouf two of the four candles on the table, and curtly 
 addressed the padre : 
 
 " You are now to go only to your room, sir. If you 
 wish to leave it one of the two men there will go with 
 you or call me. Now you have lost your very last 
 chance. Mr. Lorimer in the morning will go alone to 
 New York with his local witness and you will be re 
 moved by the officers from this house to-morrow. The 
 warrant will be duly served on you at daybreak, and 
 Mr. Lorimer himself will take an officer down and 
 below in legal form. Have you anything to say? " 
 
 Still the priest stood mute. 
 
 Lorimer coolly rose and pointed to the hallway. 
 
 The constable was standing at the door, and as Frank 
 blew out the two remaining lights the padre noted 
 the gleam of steel in his hand. " Just in case of acci 
 dent," said Lorimer, significantly. "This sleek hypo 
 crite may have himself lugged a knife around too, in 
 his unregenerate days." 
 
 As they neared the door the entrapped padre hesi 
 tated and gazed anxiously at the two young men, whose 
 faces were stony. There was no compromise in their 
 set faces. He took a single step out into the hall 
 toward the end of the corrider where the further door 
 was ajar, the one leading to the room in which Gen 
 eral Jose Romero slept on in the calm, inscrutable 
 majesty of death. 
 
 As they neared the room to pass into Guerra s own 
 sleeping apartment he faltered ; then slowly turned 
 and unwillingly retraced his steps. The three men 
 stood there under the overhanging light of the silent 
 corridor. 
 
 "If I should be successful in forcing a return of the 
 missing property would I be perfectly free to leave with 
 an untarnished name for Cuba? If I should be able 
 to use all the powers of the Spanish colony and so 
 regain the property? "
 
 140 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 "Yes! " imperiously answered both the young men. 
 
 "Then I will go with you to New York and help," 
 faltered Padre Guerra. 
 
 "It was a good bluff, Nixon," said Frank, smilingly, 
 as he pocketed his revolver. 
 
 The birds were caroling merrily in the grove around 
 Villa Romero as Lorimer and Nixon saw the sun rise 
 up over the hills. The two friends had stolen out 
 together for a council of war. The doctor s eyes 
 were haggard with watching, though he had forced his 
 friend to rest. 
 
 "You will need all your nerve to hold in the 
 wily padre, Frank," he said. "I can come to town 
 this evening and meet you at the office. Let Padre 
 Guerra make his headquarters there. He may remem 
 ber quite suddenly some Spanish friend to whom Gen- 
 sral Romero had intrusted the deposit. You have 
 Cashier Sheaver with you. Let him go down and 
 identify the coupons and then swear to the General s 
 ownership. Let Padre Guerra send all the letters, mes 
 sages and telegrams that he wants to. Only do not 
 lose him from sight. His own devilish ingenuity will 
 suggest away to retreat in honor." 
 
 "And the funeral obsequies?" anxiously demanded 
 Lorimer. 
 
 "Don t you see," Nixon replied, "there is yet a 
 chance to allow Padre Guerra to be present in his 
 capacity, for the last rites will be held at Poughkeepsie. 
 It will avert scandal. Now I shall rouse him up from 
 his dreams of emeralds, and tell him there is but one 
 restriction upon him, that is, of remaining in your com 
 pany. That no criminal action will be taken until he 
 has exhausted all of his personal powers. 
 
 The priest was already up and pacing his room as 
 eager as a tiger cat, when Nixon gravely informed him 
 of the arrangements of the day. 
 
 "Can I send some telegrams from the village ? It 
 will save time," he said, gloomily. "Without Juan 
 nothing whatever can be done. He knows the hearts 
 of every Cuban in New York." 
 
 The two Americans smiled significantly. Nixon 
 took up the word. "Write any telegrams or letters
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART 141 
 
 that you wish. Mr. Lorimer will send them away 
 instantly, so your friends can meet you at his office, 
 where they will have every entertainment and due 
 respect." 
 
 Padre Guerra s jaw dropped as he stepped into the 
 road wagon, for the burly form of the constable was 
 looming up on the front seat and his eye had the 
 sleeping watchfulness of a mastiff. 
 
 The doctor watched the wagon flash away among 
 the trees and then returned to his solitary place of 
 campaign, pondering as he paced the veranda. 
 
 " There is now time for all. Time to organize our 
 further search for the emeralds; time to move on a 
 pressure for Inez s landed rights; time to build up, to 
 heal, to assuage the wounds of sorrow and fate ! But 
 out of this gloomy, death-haunted house the girl should 
 go soon, though not a step farther than the loving 
 welcome of Edgecliff. 
 
 " Trust all to me, my child," he said to the orphan a 
 few minutes later. " If you havejost one brother let me 
 feel that you know you have gained another." 
 
 And Inez Romero smiled on him through her falling 
 tears. 
 
 Every hour until train time the doctor s growing 
 excitement burned in his veins. He bounded to his 
 feet as a telegram was handed to him at four o clock, 
 in the drowsy afternoon. 
 
 " Juan here at office. Going down for conference. 
 Come at once," it read. The signature, " Abercromby- 
 Lorimer, " told him that Inez s loyal friends were 
 fighting hard for her. 
 
 Nixon counted the stations with impatience until 
 the train rolled in at the Forty-second street station. 
 There Frank Lorimer sprang forward to meet his com 
 ing friend. 
 
 11 Jump into the coupe," said the lawyer. And they 
 rattled away to the office. 
 
 "I have a strange story to tell you," remarked 
 Lorimer, when the cab swung up to the office entrance. 
 " Come over here for a minute with me to Mulholland s. 
 The detective captain is over there." 
 
 Striding across the street the two friends entered a
 
 142 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 little card room where many a conference of vast per 
 sonal importance had been quietly held. For sport, 
 politician, racing man, swell-nob criminal, the 
 fancy," the green goods man, and many another 
 ingenious rascal had often whispered their secrets over 
 Mulholland s doubtful nectar. A little side-door was 
 there through which pretty feet had often lightly 
 tripped, some timid and shy, some faltering, some 
 eager, but all on the downward path. 
 
 "Now, my boy, here s the whole story in a nutshell. 
 Juan shot in as swiftly as a shark when we arrived," be 
 gan Lorimer as he lit a cigar. " I ll be brief, for I want 
 you to have the detective s advice at once. Guerra 
 sent four telegrams in Spanish from the station and I 
 paid for them. Arrived here, Juan and the padre were 
 closeted ten minutes alone in your consultation room, 
 where I had made him comfortable, and ordered them 
 a nice breakfast. At last the priest opened the door. 
 Juan needs a smart cabman. He can be of use. 
 Can he pass freely and not be followed ? On 
 my honor, I replied, astonished to find that the priest 
 could muster up a pretty fair English. By noon two 
 or three dark-faced foreign fellows looking like pictures 
 from cigar-box labels lounged in and had a long con 
 clave with the padre. I sent Abercromby down for 
 the detective captain, who came up and played 
 patient. I refrained from any sign of anxiety and 
 handed in without a word several letters and telegrams 
 which soon arrived for my brown-faced prisoner. I 
 was beginning to feel like poking Guerra up when 
 Hogan, the detective, stopped me. You have 
 frightened that chap already all that you can. Let 
 him frighten himself now a little. He will show his 
 hand very soon. The prettiest little affairs of this kind 
 are often spoiled by haste. He has only sent this boy 
 out as a ruse. That coffee-colored rascal knows already 
 just v;hat he means to do and how to do it. At two 
 o clock Juan came tumbling in, all eagerness. Now 
 you ll see the fox s tail, remarked Hogan quietly. It 
 was true. In ten minutes the padre sent the boy out 
 for me. I entered. Can one of my friends see the 
 prisoner, who is now locked up alone, and bear him a
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 143 
 
 message from me, coming back here freely and report 
 ing to me ? 
 
 "I quickly said, Yes, he can! 
 
 " Then I will send him down at once, resolutely 
 answered Guerra. In five minutes Hogan and a Span 
 iard name to me unknown were speeding away 
 downtown on the elevated. Juan ran in and out from 
 time to time until five o clock. Then Hogan returned, 
 smiling, and whispered: There has been a battle 
 royal down there in the cell, Lorimer. Mind your eye. 
 There ll be news for you now." 
 
 " I waited breathlessly and gave the constable orders 
 to detain Juan on some pretext, while I conferred with 
 the priest. Guerra came to the door at last. I wish 
 to see you alone first, he said. Then you can have 
 an interpreter or official if you wish to. 
 
 " We cleared the room at once. It is a very strange 
 story of adventure, sullenly muttered the priest. I 
 cannot tell you all, but I may hope to return the miss 
 ing securities to-night if you will agree to three condi 
 tions. 
 
 " Name them, I said. 
 
 " FIRST, the man paid four hundred dollars for the 
 coupons he bought. Twenty per cent, off their face. 
 He wants that money and his freedom. 
 
 " NEXT, I and Juan are free to go away in peace 
 and honor and also to attend the funeral of General 
 Romero as friends only. 
 
 " LAST, if you and the doctor are under the drive 
 way of the Fourteenth Street Theater at twelve o clock 
 to-night, a man will there deliver to you the missing 
 articles provided he is free to go and you swear that 
 he shall not be watched. How I alone can do this ! 
 How I do it is my business as a churchman, con 
 cluded Guerra. That s where we stand now." 
 
 Lorimer ceased and then gazed at his friend, 
 " What do you say to it, Jimmy ? I told him to wait 
 till you arrived for an answer. I did this on Hogan s 
 advice so as not to appear too eager." 
 
 " Let us at once call in the captain," answered 
 Nixon. 
 
 The rosy-faced detective had been "swapping lies "
 
 144 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 with his friend Mulholland. The affair was laid before 
 him. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said he, "the padre controls these 
 things, and you have only frightened him by persuad 
 ing him that he could not negotiate them safely in 
 any respectable foreign market. The seizing of the 
 coupons proved this. Object lessons are the very 
 best. Now there s a devil of a nest of Spaniards and 
 Cubans all around Sixth avenue and Fourteenth street. 
 This rascal must have stacked these things away for 
 safe keeping in that funny colony, where they could 
 be easily handed from one to another in case of a 
 search. Better agree to his terms pacify him let 
 him go to a hotel alone. I ll have his royal 
 nibs shadowed he won t getaway! Let the boy go 
 too. You show up there under the old theater lobby 
 at the indicated hour. Better go well heeled. I can 
 give you a gun if you don t carry one, "and he tossed 
 a Colt s police pistol, caliber 41, on the table. I ll be 
 near you over at Andy Phillips s on the avenue. We 
 can soon look at the bonds. If they are all O. K., 
 then you had better let the whole lot drift. So skip 
 over and tell this sly dago that it s a go. You can t 
 do better." 
 
 Seated at the table in the consultation room, Padre 
 Guerra awaited the friends final decision with some 
 anxiety. His dark eyes were now quite sunken and 
 haggard. A couple of his compatriots loungingly curled 
 up in corners glowered at Nixon s skulls and unin 
 viting medical pictures as they smoked ceaseless cigar 
 ettes. 
 
 The doctor bowed gravely on entering. 
 
 "We accept your proposition, Padre Guerra," he 
 said courteously, " and if you will name any convenient 
 hotel we will send Juan and yourself down there at 
 once in a carriage." 
 
 Captain Hogan was a silent party to the interview. 
 
 "I will go away with my friends, " answered the 
 sullen Cuban, " and leave you the address. You can 
 send a messenger there to tell me that all is well. I 
 am wearied and would rest. " 
 
 " Certainly," said both young men in a breath.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 145 
 
 "Then there is nothing else required of me. I will 
 return to the villa to-morrow evening, and remain until 
 the funeral ; that sad duty over, I will depart at once 
 for Cuba." 
 
 There was an awkward silence as the party prepared 
 to depart. Nixon and Lorimer exchanged anxious 
 glances with Hogan, who nodded affably. 
 
 " You need have no fear of the failure of the delivery 
 of the articles, " said Guerra with a cold dignity. They 
 are all intact, and these gentlemen are my witness 
 that I now guaranteee their return." 
 
 The ring of perfect confidence was in his voice. One 
 of the Cubans presented a card, and politely remarked : 
 " My house will be the home of El Senor Padre Guerra, 
 while he honors it." 
 
 " One moment," suddenly questioned Nixon. " How 
 will the person know to whom to deliver the bonds ? " 
 
 " Juan here will accompany the messenger," coldly 
 said the priest. "The bearer isafftranger to you both, 
 but Juan will identify you. One of you can remain 
 behind with him and the messenger while the other 
 examines the missing articles." 
 
 "It s a mighty good job," remarked Hogan to Doctor 
 Abercromby in the outer office as the delegation of 
 Cubans filed away. "But, Doctor, for God s sake 
 make your friends very careful. I caught the flash of 
 that padre s eye as he passed me. He will turn one 
 of these young fellows down in a minute, if he can 
 ever see his way to it. He s a snake, that fellow ! " 
 
 " Thanks for your warning, Captain," warmly said 
 Abercromby. " Sheaver and myself will not be far off. 
 We ll take post across the street." I 
 
 " If it was gold coin or good green boodle, " added [ 
 the detective, "you would not have had such an easy 
 time, but the sly devil is surely plaving some waiting 
 game. He has things in view. Look out, and never 
 trust him behind you. Years do not cool a Cuban s 
 revenge. I ll be in at Phillips s waiting for you till two 
 o clock." 
 
 Only a few belated strollers lingered around the old 
 theater as the bells beat out midnight. Lorimer and 
 Nixon scarce noted the queer human driftwood of mid-
 
 146 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 night New York as it floated by. Bold-eyed wom^n, 
 staggering roysterers, keen-eyed landsharks, belated 
 Jerseymen, laughing theater parties, and the homeless, 
 wandering poor passed in a strange review. Now and 
 then a well-dressed citizen went lounging along in that 
 air of bien etre which marks the man who is well fixed in 
 Gotham. 
 
 "There is some break," muttered Lorimer as their 
 watches both showed ten minutes after midnight. The 
 speech was interrupted by a sharp whistle ficm Aber- 
 cromby. 
 
 Out of a little polyglot eating house, drinking saloon 
 and billiard room opposite, two men made their way 
 swiftly toward them. 
 
 Both the young men were on the alert. It was easy 
 to recognize Juan s slouching form, and yet he spoke 
 not a single word to them but only mumbled some di 
 rections to a middle-aged man who bore an ordinary 
 gripsack in his left fcand. 
 
 " Come you ovar hear to el saloon, I will count 
 ovar the property to you/ said the man quite coolly in 
 broken English. 
 
 The young men followed the two foreigners. 
 Abercromby and Shearer quietly entered the place 
 also. A promiscuous crowd of loungers filled the place, 
 but in a little reading room Shearer carefully checked 
 off the bonds by number from his list, and examined 
 the coupon sheets. From a duplicate list Doctor 
 Abercromby verified the tally. 
 
 "They are all here, " repeated both the examiners 
 as the sullen-faced bearer of the returned fortune 
 calmly rolled up a cigarette. 
 
 "It is right all right," said Nixon. "Will you 
 have a note from us to Padre Guerra ? " 
 
 "Nothing ! " roughly said Juan. " Only you are all 
 to stay here five minutes and give the man a chance to 
 go home." 
 
 The four Americans bowed, and the two Cubans lefx 
 without a word or sign. 
 
 "This is a very strange proceeding," muttered 
 the doctor. "Let us call a carriage at once and get 
 down to the Fifth Avenue Hotel with this."
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART 147 . 
 
 "Briskly ! " said Lorimer. 
 
 Two of the party carried drawn revolvers at their 
 sides as the four friends in a body walked out into the 
 street and hailed the first passing carriage. At Twenty- 
 third street Lorimer leaped out and sent the agreed on 
 telegrams to the padre and Captain Hogan. 
 
 Before the friends separated for the night, Aber- 
 cromby said earnestly: " If I did not have this clear- 
 ing-up work to do down here I would go back with 
 you. For, mark me, the padre will soon strike back 
 at you in some way. And he may know more of your 
 secret expedition than you would easily credit." 
 
 " I shall have Hogan pipe him off on the Havana 
 steamer, as well as that young rattlesnake nephew of his, " 
 answered Nixon. " For the only hope I have that he 
 will not be dangerous in future lies in his fancy that 
 he may get in ahead of us yet and so discover the long- 
 sought family inheritance of woe those wretched 
 emeralds." 
 
 The next day, in Fishkill, after depositing the re 
 covered bonds in the bank, a sudden thought flew 
 through Lorimer. "See here, Nixon," he said, "the 
 funeral will not occur for three days. Let us with 
 your mother and sister take Inez to New York. To 
 morrow morning let you and I drive down from the 
 Fifth Avenue and induce Miss Romero to open the 
 case at once. It may be that there are reasons in it 
 why we should watch this priest and his nephew on 
 their homeward trip. The chance is a golden one and 
 must not be lost." 
 
 "You are right, " returned his chum. "I had not 
 realized that we lose sight of the conspirator and 
 his troublesome body guard when they leave Villa 
 Romero. There might be something in the recovered 
 papers which demands our immediate action." 
 
 Moreover," continued Lorimer, "the need of the 
 young lady for the ghastly uniform of public sorrow 
 will explain, my mother and sister going with her. Spread 
 the report that we have gone down to make the final 
 funeral arrangements." 
 
 Seated in a private room of the Broadway Sate 
 Deposit Company next day, as Trinity Church bells
 
 148 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 chimed the noon, Frank Lorimer s face was awed and 
 very grave as Inez Romero, with . a shudder, 
 approached the case lying before her on the table. 
 The slender girl s hands trembled as she touched the 
 leaden box. Its bands were twisted leathern straps, 
 which were riveted to the box and twined together 
 with a cumbrous impression of an indistinguishable 
 seal. 
 
 Inez raised her dark eyes to Nixon. "Will you not 
 open it? " she asked. 
 
 " I beg of you," said the doctor. " It must be your 
 hand alone. No other s. I will sever the straps with 
 my knife, but you must open it." 
 
 There was a hush of intense excitement as the young 
 man finally loosened the time-stained cover of the case. 
 
 In a few moments, her eyes shadowed with tears, Inez 
 Romero drew forth a packet wrapped in waxed and 
 yellowed linen. Her slender fingers trembled as she 
 unrolled the damp coverings. A roll of parchment 
 lay before her. Handing it to Nixon she faltered. 
 "Read it, I cannot. Poor Felipe!" 
 
 As Lorimer calmed her burst of sorrow the doctor 
 examined. 
 
 Suddenly his face grew ashen pale. He had turned 
 the leaves down where a rude map was pictured. 
 Then he whispered: "Let the priest go forth! He 
 cannot harm us. My God ! It is a strange, strange 
 story. Can it be true? "
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 149 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE BALL FROM THE HAMMERLESS REVOLVER. 
 
 " WHAT do you propose to do? Will you remove 
 the papers ? " demanded Frank Lorimer, in breathless 
 excitement. " Do you think there is a treasure really 
 awaiting this child of so many sorrows ?" The young 
 man s eyes rested tenderly on Inez. 
 
 "There has been a treasure !" solemnly replied Nixon. 
 " When we have devised a plan of safely guarding this 
 girl from that rascal Guerra s wiles, you and I have a 
 long quest, before us." 
 
 "By Heaven! you shall not go down to Cuba. 
 Death awaits you there !" cried Lorimer. " You would 
 embarrass the State Department and ruin Inez s chance 
 of recovering the estates. You are known there to 
 everyone now." 
 
 "It is in the mainland," answered the doctor, " if 
 some convulsion of nature or the hand of man has not 
 already swept it away from us the shadowy legacy of 
 an old crime. These papers must not rest here. Now, 
 Frank, Inez and I will copy alternately sheets of the 
 four leaves of this last document. We can study it at 
 home to-night. This map I will trace and deposit 
 in a third safe place. No stranger could ever use this 
 divided story, and, without the map, there would be 
 still a seal upon the secret." 
 
 " How long will you be busied ?" asked the lawyer. 
 
 "An hour!" Then he whispered "It will also 
 distract her mind. " 
 
 There are always writing materials in a safe deposit 
 office. 
 
 " I will go over to the police headquarters and see 
 that all is hushed up there, as to the strange wander 
 ing of those bonds," said Frank. "Don t you leave 
 Inez here alone ! " he added in an aside to the doctor. 
 
 "Go ahead. I ll wait here," was the response. 
 "But it is prudent we should never come here again
 
 150 HIS CUDAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 together. I will introduce Inez to the manager; she 
 had better deposit her bonds here. I have been think 
 ing also, " he continued, " that it would be a good idea 
 if your mother and sister would go abroad with Inez 
 for a time. She would be safe in Europe from Guerra, 
 and we two must go down to the tropics together." 
 
 "But I would not see her then for months," doubt 
 fully remarked Lorimer. 
 
 Nixon smiled. "You will see a great deal of her 
 later, I fancy. Go along, Frank. Your time is not 
 yet come, my young Romeo. The myrtle and cypress 
 do not bloom together. Earn first the right to her 
 devotion and gratitude, and then love." 
 
 " You speak as if Cupid had his grip on you also, 
 professor," murmured the blinded Lorimer as he 
 walked away. 
 
 A strange blindness! Of all human beings in the 
 world made for love s soft alarms, Frank Lorimer 
 ignored his sister Ethel. In many comprehensive 
 ways he dismissed her from his mind with that sweep 
 ing brotherly remark: " Ethel s a good girl! " 
 
 Her many perfections were not only manifest to 
 Doctor Nixon, but his "cardiac d sturbance was 
 slowly but surely undermining his whole system. 
 
 While Inez bent her beautifnl face down over the quaint 
 parchment, Nixon s flying fingers soon achieved his por 
 tion of the task ; then with careful attention he copied 
 every mark of the quaint old diagram appended to the 
 parchment. 
 
 " Half of this in the bank vault at Fishkill, the 
 other half in Poughkeepsie, no one can ever trace out 
 the story. And by the time it goes there I will have 
 learned it by heart." 
 
 When Lorimer returned, the steel maw of the great 
 vaults had swallowed up the original of the copy which 
 was now quickly divided between the two men. 
 
 It was ten o clock*before the fatigued party reached 
 Edgecliff. Closeted with Nixon, Lorimer promptly 
 said: 
 
 " Now get out those papers quickly, for I must know 
 all their contents before Padre Guerra starts for New 
 York."
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 15! 
 
 As Nixon spread out the documents copied from 
 Fernando Aguilar s narrative, he said meditatively: 
 " Get me a large atlas, Frank, and I will see if the 
 map conforms with any coast line that we can find. This 
 whole thing reads like a wild brain fantasy." 
 
 The house was stilled, the doors of the room locked, 
 as Nixon began the reading of the paper. 
 
 " Don t make a single mark, scratch or memoran 
 dum," he sternly said. " You and I must carry this 
 burden in our heads. It must not be said that in 
 our own eager foolishness we have betrayed the 
 orphaned heiress of the past. Should we go on this 
 quest there must be nothing to mark our object save 
 the sketch in some divided form. Now listen! "and 
 he read with intense earnestness the last message from 
 beyond the grave the words of Fernando Aguilar de 
 Romero: 
 
 To THE SAME HANDS ! 
 
 Feast of St. Jago, A.D. 1685. 
 
 Beneath la puerta mayor, of Los Olmos, I leave 
 this record for the one to whom God wills it. If it so 
 be that the last of my line an innocent woman read 
 it, then God will have found out the way. 
 
 The thieving and rioting at Jamaica of the unsuc 
 cessful buccaneers who were separated from us and 
 defeated at Cornmana, near Caraccas, caused all the 
 victors of Maracaibo to be closely spied upon. The cor 
 sair Morgan was long busied with organizing his 
 descent upon Panama. Now, by the laws of the broth 
 erhood, if we, "the eight, "had been found to have that 
 which we carried we would have been slain at once 
 by Morgan as thieving from the common booty, or else 
 murdered by the hungry comrades who came back 
 bootless from Commana. The island of Jamaica was 
 then a hell upon earth, for there were seventeen sail of 
 freebooters refitting there. 
 
 All the devils of the Spanish Main were now flocking 
 to the south side of Tortuga to join in the coming sack 
 of Panama. We had all sworn a fearful pact to stay 
 together, and each man had signed it with his blood, 
 the round ring oath, " Death to the Traitor ! "
 
 152 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 We eight had a little camp of our own apart. 
 The wenching, gaming and drinking were bringing 
 men to the sword daily. We buried that we had in the 
 sands under our tent, making pretense of fishing and 
 fowling at the seashore to live alone. 
 
 Now we had hoarded up carefully our share of the 
 spoil as divided, nigh four hundred pieces of eight per 
 man. After a long study we bought a Carib canoe 
 nigh to forty feet long, and secretly laded her with 
 good supply of provision and water. 
 
 Then taking all our arms and a plentiful store of 
 powder and ball we set sail secretly in the night for 
 Grand Cayman Island. One of the other seven knew well 
 that haunt, and from there we hoped to join some fresh 
 crews of buccaneers who knew not of our serving with 
 the fiend Morgan at Maracaibo. It was agreed on by 
 all, that each man might divide out his due share of 
 the plunder and shift for himself if we arrived safely at 
 Grand Cayman. 
 
 "On the fourth day we sighted the Grand Cayman 
 and a Carib canoe told us of four Spanish men-of-war 
 there waiting to join others from Havana, designing to 
 Attack Morgan s fleet. Our two Carib boatmen con- 
 versed in the tongue of these natives, and the fisher 
 canoe piloted us ashore to where we might find fresh 
 water. In the night we counseled and decided to 
 push forth to some islands in the Bay of Honduras, 
 our nearest refuge. For we would have perforce been 
 all hung in chains if the Spaniards should unhappily 
 find us out. 
 
 On the fifth day after, sighting three contiguous 
 islands of great beauty and resting on the central one 
 (note its peculiar form on my chart) we were overtaken 
 by a tornado, and with much skill our natives weath 
 ered the storm. We were fain to depend on our Caribs, 
 who told us the main land of Honduras was but one 
 day s sail away. 
 
 When at last we reached the main shore, I found out 
 my companions real design, which was to march over 
 the path of Cortex s army into the mountains of Salva 
 dor, and there on a native vessel get down to Panama, 
 in which great city they hoped to be free to sell their
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 153 
 
 booty to the merchants of that vastly rich place, for 
 they were not minded to believe that even Morgan 
 dared to attack it. Coming from the South Sea coast, 
 they were sure not to be taken lor any of Morgan s 
 men. 
 
 Our canoe and stores of goods, which we could not 
 carry, we gave to the friendly Caribs, who brought to 
 us four natives of Terra Firma to pilot us up the great 
 Aguan. I was the weakest of the band, for my wound 
 opened again, and my gun and powder and ball were at 
 last taken from me and given to one of the Indians. 
 These poor natives also carried the stolen booty of the 
 altar in four bags of rawhide, which we had made at the 
 island, with straps for binding them on the back. 
 
 Twelve days terrible march from the shore near Omoa 
 brought. us over the high ridge, through a great forest 
 with store of monkeys, river-cows and tigers, out to the 
 Aguan River. We crossed another high Cordillera, and 
 at last found an Indian village where the Mangalile 
 River joins the Aguan. I was nigh unto death, and 
 yet I dared not to fall back, lest my companions slay 
 me, for they were all black-hearted villains. 
 
 Three days march from the village, going up the 
 Mangalile, we came to a great narrow, deep gorge, 
 where the river maketh a sharp bend coming from the 
 west to the south. The walls of the chasm are high 
 and dizzy, and on the north bank the trail for ten 
 leagues is called Los Disparainadcs, and there Captain- 
 (ieneral Cortez lost a third of his army while wandering 
 over the fearful precipices. 
 
 As we marched around the great point, like unto the 
 nose of a man, and projecting northeast from the 
 southwest, my companions were well in advance, and 
 i toiling feebly on after the four Indian bearers. 
 
 A great band of savages with spears and bows and 
 arrows suddenly rose out of the rocks and poured 
 down from the gorges. At the first sound of our arque 
 buses the four bearers cast down their burdens and fled 
 into the thicket. They were not seen of the savages. 
 
 Being without my arms I ran into the rocks and 
 quickly made shift to hide myself. The Blessed Virgin 
 led me to the mouth of a cave or old tunnel where
 
 154 HIS CUI3AN SWEETHEART. 
 
 the river in its flood had washed a great hole under 
 the point which I have described. It is a vast, 
 curious causeway going under the whole point, and 
 about ten feet above the line of the waters. 
 
 I hearkened to but a few discharges of the match 
 locks and then all was over. The triumphant yells of 
 the savages told me of the capture or killing of my 
 companions. Hidden in this hole or cave I laid until 
 the next morning, daring not to venture forth. I was 
 fain at last to crawl out to see if I could find some of 
 the fruits of the forest. I spied around closely; hear 
 ing no sounds whatever of man, though the forest was 
 filled with the cries of the birds and wild animals. I 
 wandered up the gorge toward the place of the attack; 
 there I found the remains of seven great fires. The 
 ground was trampled around seven huge trees ; from 
 the half charred bones I discovered these wild savages 
 had burned the prisoners, dead or alive. There was 
 nothing left else. They had departed and carried 
 all the plunder away. 
 
 I made haste to hide in my cavej after drinking and 
 finding some plantains and bananas. There was no 
 sign of the four poor natives who had fled, and I found 
 all their burdens lying where they had cast them away. 
 I dragged the four sacks of hide into the tunnel, which 
 I found to be nigh unto a hundred paces long and 
 washed out of the softer earth and rock between the 
 harder places. 
 
 Long did I wonfler there what I might do with the 
 useless treasures. I feared to bring any away lest I 
 should be murdered, for I was sore, spentand sickened. 
 I designed to bind two or three logs of driftwood 
 together and float down the river to the friendly village. 
 
 At last I bethought me; with my hunting knife 
 and pointed stakes that I cut I digged out a great hole 
 in the bottom of the tunnel midway between the ends 
 and paved this hole with flat stones and made a wall of 
 stones around it. Then covering the four sacks there 
 I built over the top a floor of strong stones of all 
 shapes so as to hold the whole mass in and scraped 
 sand and gravel over it, filling the whole solid. Then 
 I made haste to find me logs of wood, which I bound
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 155 
 
 together with vines and withes, with a long pole cut to 
 guide me. I embarked, sitting across this little raft. 
 
 In two days, floating by day and hiding by night, I at 
 last reached the Indian village. There, being sick and 
 alone and unarmed, I was seized upon and made a 
 slave. For five long years did I labor as a dog 
 harassed by these Indians. 
 
 At last, hiding a store of dried plantains and maize, 
 I stole a canoe and after five days of terrible suffer 
 ings I found the sea near Truxillo. Wandering half 
 naked along the beach, I was discovered and brought 
 into the Spanish garrison. I was like unto a human 
 beast. A kind-hearted friar got me the boon of a pass 
 age to Vera Cruz on a galleon passing up for the King s 
 plate. 
 
 I feared to open my mouth lest I betray myself. 
 When I was landed at Vera Cruz even Don Alarco de 
 Guzman would not credit me. It was only the 
 sound of my voice which brought my beloved spouse 
 to my side. 
 
 I dared not tell the story of my crimes against the 
 Church, of my raising my sword against my King! 
 
 My treasure was lost to me forever! 
 
 Wondrous ! All the scheme of crime was woven in 
 vain. The blood all shed for naught. 
 
 No man may now venture in the valley of the Aguan 
 or Mangalile and hope to come forth alive from the wild 
 Indians. The treasure is abandoned there. I make 
 this relation as God wills that the truth should be 
 finally known. The four bags lie there in the stone 
 bulkhead or casing which I builded in behind a huge 
 rock of black stone which bears half way across the 
 tunnel. It would break the force of any water rush 
 ing through. 
 
 There is no mistaking of the place, for the south 
 bank of the Mangalile followed up from its junction 
 with the Aguan will surely bring one to the great nose 
 or mountain, with the curious tunnel washed through 
 its point. 
 
 Mindful of my past sufferings and of my awful pun 
 ishment at the hand of the great God, I leave this secret 
 now to the trust of Providence.
 
 156 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 In God s name, so be it ! The Blessed Virgin may 
 direct what innocent hand may find the useless treas 
 ures which are buried as related. 
 
 Sea por Dios y la Santissiina Virgen. 
 
 FERNANDO AGUILAR DE ROMERO. 
 
 Frank Lorimer reached forward and gazed at the 
 rudely sketched map which marked the wanderings of 
 the poor victim of the Spanish Governor s insult. " It 
 seems almost incredible, Nixon," he said. "To-night 
 we will divide and lock up all the papers. Even now 
 Inez is the last of the Romeros." 
 
 On the morrow the two young men sat together in 
 the Catholic church at Poughkeepsie, while the solemn 
 strains of the mass swelled out over the dead general. 
 
 It was a little gathering, a scanty tribute of respect; 
 but the three women in the front pew never lifted 
 their eyes from the coffin to gaze at the half-empty 
 church. While the white-robed acolytes swung the 
 censer the mute incense of these women s prayers 
 silently assailed the gate of Heaven, and not in vain. 
 Padre Guerra sat within the rail robed in canonicals, 
 but his voice was silent as the officiating priests 
 chanted the high mass. In a corner of the chapel 
 Juan Valdes glowered at the family party, while his 
 restless black eyes sought the floor at sight of the 
 sword and tattered Lone Star flag lying on the coffin of 
 the poor old veteran. There was a goodly sprinkling 
 of the honest-faced villagers of Fishkill. These men 
 and women, sobered in their prosperous daily life for 
 a moment, gazed in awe at the unfamiliar Romish rites 
 of the beautiful old faith. 
 
 Clad in her deep black, Inez Romero sat as mute as 
 one of Murillo s virgins, one diamond tear glittering 
 on her fringing lashes. She leaned slightly forward 
 with her graceful shoulders quivering under the heavy 
 black robes of orphanhood, as the sweet voices of the 
 hidden singers swelled up in passionate pleading 
 appeals for mercy. If there is any way to reach the 
 human heart through eye and ear the strange, solemn 
 pageantry of the Romish faith is the most impressively 
 touching.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 157 
 
 The child of an Irish exile himself, James Nixon 
 was inexpressibly touched at the lonely funeral of this 
 alien patriot. It seemed to recall to him the scattered 
 graves and the sad fates of those who dreamed of 
 " Ireland, one of the nations of the earth." The men 
 of Ninety-eight ! The men of Forty-eight ! dying on 
 foreign fields. Cavaliers of fortune under stranger 
 flags, casting hollow-eyed glances back in exile at 
 hearth and home, now only a vanished dream ; rotting 
 in prison perhaps, or dragging the chain of the 
 branded convict it was to this doom that the mad 
 chivalry of old Ireland went ! 
 
 And so the son of a man who died a stranger to 
 home and kindred for sake of his native land, mourned 
 by the body of the dead Cuban general. 
 
 Thus they reverently laid Jose Romero away to 
 " sleep in the long rest." 
 
 Nixon was shaken and distraught and only bowed 
 mechanically as the dark form of Padre Guerra crossed 
 between him and God s golden sunlight at the open 
 door. 
 
 "I shall not see you again," the priest said in his 
 deep voice, and speaking to Frank fixed his eyes in a 
 grave sadness upon Inez Romero. " Adios . " 
 
 But her trembling lips moved not and only her beau 
 tiful, delicate head was bowed as he passed away from 
 their sight. 
 
 It was eleven o clock that evening before Nixon 
 had concluded all his duties at Villa Romero. After 
 dismissing his friend Doctor Vosburgh he went the 
 rounds for the last time. 
 
 Then alone and wearied he strode over the lawn 
 undera bright starlight to "try a breather" back to 
 Edgecliff. 
 
 Frank, in the study of the old Colonial mansion, was 
 awaiting his friend when sharp and strong rang out two 
 heavy reports of a pistol down in the glen below. 
 
 "My God! Nixon!" cried Lorimer as he snatched 
 his own pistol out of the drawer before him, and raced 
 down the road into the glen at a spirit which recalled 
 the best he had ever done " under the blue " for old 
 Yale. Sturdy forms followed after him.
 
 158 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 In the shaded gully which divided the grounds 
 of Villa Romero from Edgecliff, the running man in 
 full career was tripped and flung almost senseless by a 
 doubled stout rope, knee high, stretched across the 
 path. He fell beside a prostrate form lying in the 
 middle of the road. 
 
 When the followers reached them, Frank Lorimer, 
 bruised and stunned, his hands covered with his own 
 blood, was crying in a choking voice: " They have 
 murdered him! My God! Jimmy, speak to me!" 
 
 A feeble voice answered: "All right, old fellow! 
 Only my hip is out of joint." 
 
 Nixon was lifted tenderly to a mossy bank and a 
 couple of folded coats were placed under his head and 
 knees. He said feebly: "You ll find one of them 
 down there in the hollow, I think, for I hit him the 
 second shot. Let someone look." 
 
 "He can wait," grimly said Lorimer, who bent over 
 his friend. " Who was it ?" 
 
 "Juan and another fellow," sighed Nixon. "I 
 shot one of them. They tried to knife me as I lay 
 half stunned." 
 
 In a few moments the hip was shot back into its 
 place, but it was only a pale and senseless face which 
 Doctor Vosburgh leaned over when summoned by 
 express rider from the village. Still, the assassins 
 were foiled. 
 
 "See here, Lorimer," said the good country doctor, 
 " what became of the man who was winged ? " 
 
 " They found only a bloody lair where the fellow had 
 first fallen and a trail down the glen. I should judge 
 that the other assassin had carried the wounded man. 
 They drove off in a buggy which they had concealed 
 near by." 
 
 " Lorimer," remarked the indignant doctor, "gun 
 shot wounds are not very common with us in this quiet 
 community. I can easily find out from the profession 
 where the fellow is hiding." 
 
 " I hardly know what to think," slowly said the young 
 lawyer. " I will have Hogan put a good man in charge- 
 here, and we ll all get out for a time. It may save 
 one man s life perhaps two." And then he told the
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 159 
 
 good physician that the European hegira was an estab 
 lished fact. 
 
 " All right," answered the cheery Vosburgh. " Cool 
 salt water is a good fence against these fiery Cubans. 
 The very best." 
 
 It was on the next evening when Abercromby had 
 reported the sailing of the padre alone for Havana, 
 that the good-looking young New Yorker and all the 
 Golden Circle listened to Nixon s brief story: 
 
 " I was swinging homeward down the glen, all un 
 suspicious, when the treacherous rope snare threw me 
 stunned and breathless on my back. It was only after 
 the first knife cut on my shoulder that I had the pres 
 ence of mind to shove out the hammerless revolver 
 and pull the trigger. I fainted with the pain of the 
 dislocation. All I know after that is that Lorimer 
 called me a whole lot of pet names when he dove over 
 the same rope and fell on my corpus! " 
 
 " Did you recognize Juan as one of the assassins ? " 
 demanded Lorimer with a very ugly look in his eyes. 
 
 "I saw only the two dark forms," replied Nixon, 
 who was basking in the smiles of a very efficient vol 
 unteer member of the Red Cross Society. " One was 
 trying to climb over the bank and get at me, as the 
 more agile one sprang at me like a tiger, slashing with 
 the knife. " 
 
 Two days later Doctor Vosburgh and Abercromby 
 stood by the side of a dark-faced young man who was 
 raving in a fever in the Poughkeepsie City Hospital. 
 " That was a close call on the artery," said the City 
 Surgeon. 
 
 "I think I will have this ball mounted for luck," 
 said Doctor Abercromby when they drove away. For 
 the City Surgeon had given back to him the bullet 
 fired from the hammerless revolver.
 
 t^to HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 "COURAGE AND QUININE." 
 
 THERE is always some peculiar mystery in the sl*u> 
 recovery of a good-looking young man, who lingers 
 under the ministrations of a handsome young chate 
 laine acting as nurse. 
 
 Ethel Lorimer now moved around Edgecliff softly 
 singing to herself, "When I am by thy side," and 
 other words to that effect. It was a dangerous con 
 valescence, and the seals of that mystery were never 
 broken. 
 
 Nixon was officially rushed into health by Frank 
 Lorimer at last hanging out the signal, "Prepare to 
 desert ship! " 
 
 It was not strange that the rosy little god, " going 
 it blind," was unperceived by Frank. For he was a 
 man of many affairs. First, in a little junta including 
 Doctor Vosburgh and Captain Hogan it was pruden- 
 tially decided to ignore the presence of Juan Valdes as 
 a "public boarder" at the hospitable hands of the 
 burgesses of Poughkeepsie. For Padre Guerra must 
 be outwitted. 
 
 "You see," said Captain Hogan, "it saves powder, 
 lead and rope. Some other fellow will kill Mr. Juan 
 one day sure enough. He has got his bullet marked 
 by that horseshoe murderer s wrinkle. I put it up this 
 way. The New York gang who all smuggle in and 
 handle here floods of counterfeit Cuban money, as well 
 as do the spy act for the Spanish government, gave 
 up one smart fellow to help Juan put the doctor neatly 
 out of the way. But as for lugging a wounded man 
 back to New York to be easily piped off, and give 
 them all away, not so it was not in the contract." 
 
 To this Abercromby added : "As he could not 
 recognize me in his fever, he will simply slink away 
 and so we have gained a point on the padre. If he 
 returns he can then be neatly arrested for the 
 assault,"
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. l6l 
 
 Soon after this Frank Lorimer, after closing all the 
 preliminary estate business at Poughkeepsie, verified 
 at last the departure of the young patient whose lame 
 story to the doctors was that he was shot while " fool 
 ing with a friend." 
 
 There were very grave matters to call all to New 
 York. Padre Guerra was really embarked for Cuba. 
 The Spanish Minister had already signified to the State 
 Department his earnest approval of the petition duly 
 forwarded for the return of the Jibacoa estates, and 
 the Secretary of State of the United States of America 
 was pleased to intimate that the restitution of the con 
 fiscated properties seemed probable, and he advised 
 the tender of a complete withdrawal of all the personal 
 claims of the family of Felipe Romero, as well as 
 Doctor James Nixon, in the event of such return. 
 The Secretary desired to impress upon Doctor Nixon 
 the awkwardness of his own personal position, as hav 
 ing appeared in Cuba as " Henry Morgan." This fact 
 might be taken advantage of to contest, etc., etc. 
 
 Jimmy Nixon won the last crumbs of Lorimer s 
 heart already ungathered, by promptly stating : "I 
 waive all to effect the restitution of Miss Inez s natural 
 rights, for I feel as if I am now a brother of the 
 heart." 
 
 This was very daintily and gracefully acknowledged 
 by Miss Romero. 
 
 Lorimer had also quietly effected the removal of 
 poor Felipe s remains to the resting place in Pough 
 keepsie where the old rebel Cuban lay now deaf to the 
 thunders of all the Spanish cannon. 
 
 There had been mighty councils over the great 
 problem of the attempted recovery of the strangely 
 transported emeralds. Frank Lorimer had made very 
 careful researches as to the wild land of Spanish Hon 
 duras and how to get there. A three days visit to 
 New York gave him time to gather much information 
 from the officers of the Yantic about that coast, haunted 
 ed with its old memories of Cortez, Hog Island, the 
 place where Columbus himself first saw the mainland 
 of America, and Truxillo Point. 
 
 This information was given him freely by "our
 
 162 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 mess," for these blue and gold bound young patriots 
 were now wandering back to join ship, sadly feeble in 
 the ability to "draw on " the good-humored paymas 
 ter, who said: "I might as well take all your money 
 and leave it in a lump over in four blocks of upper 
 Br*oadway, for the florists, jewelers, theater agents and 
 other Bedouins there, get it all." Then he prudently 
 admonished them in a body "to get married and settle 
 down" which would have been a very radical change 
 for the bright-faced fellows whose generous sailor 
 hearts kept them all in hot water trying to settle up. 
 
 During all this the "healing process" was slowly 
 going on at Edgecliff, and it seemed that Nixon 
 " healed " more agreeably while Mrs. Lorimer was 
 away busied with the preparations for their Europsan 
 jaunt. 
 
 It was here one sunny morning, just after his emer 
 gence from a sick room, that a dapper stranger made 
 his appearance rigged out in a cross between a yacht 
 ing suit and a race track outfit. 
 
 "This here gent insisted upon seeing you person 
 ally," said Borland, the farmer foreman, as he led the 
 visitor into a rustic arbor occupied by the patient and 
 his nurse. 
 
 "Exactly! That s just it, personal interview," 
 glibly remarked the "gent" as he yanked off his yacht 
 ing cap and waved it, gold-foil-anchor and all, in the 
 direction of the blushing Miss Ethel Lorimer. 
 
 There was an amused smile playing on Nixon s face 
 as he calmly examined a card : 
 
 H. KINSLEY SYNTAX, 
 The New York Daily Calliope. 
 
 " Are you the same person who called once before on 
 Mr. Frank Lorimer ? " asked the doctor as H. Kinsley 
 Syntax deftly pulled out a flap notebook and crowded
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 163 
 
 up to the table. He was far too gallant to push Miss 
 Ethel s alleged work off the narrowed surface, but he 
 did seriously contemplate edging Nixon s " game leg" 
 off its chair so as to get more elbow play to build up 
 " Head Lines " for the New York Daily Calliope. 
 
 "Yes, I am the gentleman who did that neat little 
 swoop on the fine old General. There was a man ! 
 Told me all. Took it like a lamb. The young fellow 
 was no good. Very rough. Forgot himself and 
 hollered at me. No manners." 
 
 " I regret to hear it," said Doctor Jim with assumed 
 gravity. " He is this young lady s brother." 
 
 A little red spot suddenly tinted each brazen cheek 
 of Mr. H. Kinsley Syntax as he solemnly "dished" 
 his yachting cap. " No offense, I assure you. I sup 
 pose it s only a way he has. Regular man eater. 
 College fellow, I imagine. Comes from that football 
 craze and all those barbaric games. Better stick to 
 their books. Spoils our best young men." 
 
 Here Ethel, with the "partially healed," laughed 
 heartily until Nixon observed a "black cloud " con 
 siderably bigger than a man s hand, going down on the 
 flap notebook. 
 
 " What are you doing there ? " he ejaculated. 
 
 "I am finishing a very dashing little story of your 
 adventure. Your good man there has told me nearly 
 all." 
 
 Then panic struck them as H. Kinsley Syntax read 
 off "just a few touches" of the glowing article. 
 " Only want a few words from you personally," said he 
 glibly, and hummed away in a professional monotone . 
 "Description of assailant. Real motive. Cause 
 of old feud. Beautiful heiress s movements. 
 
 Nixon writhed in helpless agony as he tried to leap 
 to his feet. At this attempted opening of hostilities, 
 H. Kinsley, who was scribbling a"way, interjected sym 
 pathetically : "Better lie still, it hurts you!" 
 
 With this he cast respectfully moderated glances of 
 approval at Miss Ethel as he read aloud a few more 
 dashes of genius: 
 
 " A Cuban Vendetta! The Stiletto Sequel! 
 Blood for a Blow ! The Rival Suitors ! Mystery of
 
 164 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 a Foreign Heiress! The Struggle in the Glen! 
 Midnight Minions Menace Murder ! The Lariat Trap 
 for a Fortunate Lover! 
 
 "Don t bear malice," he pleaded. " Bound to have 
 the news. Make a Sunday special column of this. 
 What is the true color of your hair, Miss Ethel? Wish 
 I had a kodak." 
 
 He fluttered away a little pace as Nixon roared with 
 the howl of a chained bear untimely waked. 
 
 Then the sudden rattle of wheels recalled Frank Lor- 
 imer s "fot liter in re," and Mr. H. Kinsley Syntax was 
 a thing of the past. 
 
 "Better let him print it," said Nixon to the laugh 
 ing yet blushing girl. "It would only be a double 
 dose later if we fight them." And then the "healing 
 process " went on "a sweet uninterrupted silence." 
 
 Frank Lorimer joined in their merriment on his re 
 turn when he heard of the narrow escape of H. Kinsley 
 Syntax of the notable Calliope. "I hope that H. Kinsley 
 will not get a celestial assignment before he has a hack 
 at a wedding in these families. He is immense in the 
 genre style of word-painting, and does bridal proces 
 sions grandly at five dollars a column. Besides, seri 
 ously, Syntax has some of the attributes of a real jour 
 nalist, and no one ever found a real journalist go back 
 on his calling as a weakling or a coward. The names 
 of Villiers, McGahan and Sala stand sponsor for their 
 courage on the field of battle and their nobility in pri 
 vate life. I ve known them to often generously save 
 a woman s reputation, shield a public man s honor and 
 touch the erring one lightly, when piles of solid shekels 
 awaited a touch of their nimble fingers." 
 
 " You should have been a reporter, too," retorted 
 Ethel. 
 
 "They have also made some of our great lawyers," 
 laughed Lorimer. " But, seriously, Nixon, to-morrow 
 night is our last in the old home for an indefinite 
 period. I want to know when you can show a clean 
 bill of health. I have engaged the passage for our 
 ladies a week ahead on La Touraine and everything is 
 now safe in the vaults below Broadway save the copies 
 we want to use. Now, you and I must face the matter
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 165 
 
 of the emeralds. I have gone through every printed 
 reference to Spanish Honduras that I can find in New 
 York. I have seen slippery agents, traders, sailors 
 and colonization agents. Even disgusted adventurers 
 I have interviewed, all through the eye of Abercromby. 
 There seems to be but one plausible story in case we 
 do go, and that is to go simply as American prospect 
 ors or miners. It is the only way to avoid being 
 watched, followed or murdered in that tropical land, 
 generally described to me as a hell on earth! " 
 
 " What s wrong with it ? " gravely said Nixon. 
 
 "Oh, the land is a fair enough worn-out mixture of 
 tropic jiuigle, Cordilleras, baking plains and stony 
 hills. The Caribs alone are well worth the price of 
 admission, and the monkeys, macaws, crocodiles and 
 tigers, with the river cows and armadillos, are a host in 
 themselves. But many of the officials, merchants and 
 leading men in power are murderers, thieves and civil 
 ization s rejected misfits. To go down there I pro 
 pose that separately we rendezvous at Key West, then 
 we must get a little schooner to run us over to Truxillo 
 or Omoa, and, with a mountain outfit of a prospecting 
 nature, make our way quietly up into the Mangalile 
 hills. So you, Abercromby and I will be honest miners. 
 
 "Hoho! Bill has the Honduras fever, too, "laughed 
 Nixon. "But I assent! Your scheme of playing the 
 miner is a good one." 
 
 So the maps were spread out, the copied relations of 
 Fernando Aguilar de Romero were keenly searched for 
 any further hidden cryptograms and the subject ap 
 proached at last in the final putting of the yeas and 
 nays. For it seemed like a vain dream, a forlorn hope, 
 that shadowy inheritance. 
 
 "The only question for us now to consider," said 
 Nixon, after Frank Lorimer had gravely stated the whole 
 case, "is to decide if it is worth while to make the at 
 tempt or not as to whether we will find the emeralds. 
 In other words is the game worth the candle?" 
 
 "It seems fantastic," answered Nixon, "this hope 
 that the spirits of the mountain have so long guarded 
 this trust from all thieving, blood-stained hands. But 
 look at the discoveries of the Egyptologists, think of
 
 1 66 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 the finds at Troy, gloat over the millions in silver dol 
 lars raised after centuries in Vigo Bay. Somewhere in 
 the oozy slime of that little puddle of a river called the 
 Tiber are the seven hundred golden candlesticks of the 
 Temple, as pictured on the arch frowning before the 
 yawning Coliseum. Why, this deposit is of yesterday, 
 compared with some of the finds I have mentioned. 
 The emeralds are also indestructible by water and rust. 
 The vengeance of God suddenly swept away all the 
 guilty murderers, and we have the truthful words of the 
 simple-hearted old caballero, who was driven by his 
 wounded honor to lift the rebel sword against His 
 Catholic Majesty of Spain. But one contingency has 
 occurred to me the frequent earthquakes of Central 
 America. Should the rocky arch have been thrown 
 down the engineering problem might mean the removal 
 of the whole rocky point. This would be impossible, 
 as we can only pass through and scratch over the 
 ground without attracting consideiable official atten 
 tion. And then, the Honduranean magnates, hating 
 the gringo with all the Latin-American distrustful 
 spleen, wonld surely prevent us legally acquiring a title 
 to the ground or operating to any great extent. Shall 
 we go down and see? " 
 
 The young women s eyes were soft with romantic 
 apprehension, and Agnes Lorimer, the loving mother 
 of one of the young men, was herself mute. She neither 
 whispered "Go" nor "Stay." 
 
 "Bah!" impetuously cried Frank Lorimer as the 
 hush became almost solemn. "Englishmen go from the 
 Thames to the Himalayas for a single pop at a tiger. 
 Amateurs dally now with the North Pole. The new 
 woman" is carted across Africa, clad in a sweet smile 
 and her Jenness Miller s. We can easily make the trip 
 in two months. I say, go ! All we want is courage 
 and quinine." 
 
 " Well, if you wish to furnish the courage, I ll throw 
 in the quinine," laughed the doctor. Then he stretched 
 out his hand. " It s a go, Frank ! " 
 
 And the only touch of sentiment was when the con 
 clave broke up, for Agnes Lorimer threw her shapely 
 arms around Frank, murmuring: "My boy!"
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 167 
 
 The two beauties who gazed from under shaded 
 lashes at the self-devoted knight errants did not throw 
 any arms around them, however, for obvious reasons. 
 The sweet, strange, delicious monopoly of the knowledge 
 that love had already stolen into their hearts, like a thief 
 in the night, made these two dissembling maids fearful of 
 each other. They hovered on the ragged edge of self- 
 betrayal, however, when Lorimer said: "To-morrow we 
 change our headquarters to New York City. As soon 
 as we hear by cable that La Touraine has arrived, we 
 miners will depart singly from the city, and to Frank 
 will be left all the communication with you. They 
 must be of a family nature only. Our letters would not 
 be safe. The secret we carry is so weighty that only 
 after our success or failure can we, or any of us, tele 
 graph an agreed-on word to Drexel, Harjes & Co. at 
 Paris." 
 
 "There is one thing I would speak of," hesitatingly 
 said Inez. "I wish to spare no pains or expense to 
 recover the estate of Los Olmos. If it is ever mine, 
 then Don Jose and Felipe shall rest in the chapel where 
 my mother lies. As to this wild quest, if you succeed, 
 you must know what your reward will be. You go to 
 danger to face fever and the jungle and all these 
 terrors." 
 
 Will you permit me to name my reward if I return?" 
 said Frank Lorimer, in a voice that made Miss Inez 
 glow like the rose and pale like the lily in two breaths. 
 
 "I only go for your sake, Frank," laughed Nixon. 
 Which was a very well-developed whopper, for the 
 sister standing mutely there had given him a look 
 which was "partial payment" in advance. 
 
 The party soon left Edgecliff. Inez was happier for 
 every mile the steel wheels checked off between her and 
 all the sorrowful memories of the deserted Villa Ro 
 mero. Agnes Lorimer s gentle eyes rested in pride 
 and hope on her brave son, and all the circle felt that 
 they had come as it were "out of the shadows of the 
 night," when they were harbored in that dear old 
 hostelry the Fifth Avenue! 
 
 There was a store of important business awaiting the 
 young men already; a summons from the State
 
 1 68 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Department at Washington for Lorimer s imme ate 
 presence, the cards of Banker Munoz to see Miss 
 Romero; Lieutenant Walsingham, U. S. N., for Doctor 
 Nixon; Captain Hogan, too, was in friendly unofficial 
 waiting and several letters from the consul at Matan- 
 zas were sent up the preliminary orchestral strains of 
 a new act of the drama. 
 
 "I ll not bother you, Lorimer, " said the police offi 
 cer. He then gave the lawyer a cipher address. "Use 
 that and the force will always swing to your help. Bet 
 ter name a cool friend here to look after your confi 
 dential affairs and also give him a card to me." 
 
 "Thanks, captain," gratefully answered Lorimer. 
 "You are a brick. "I ll send Tom Ellison, my law 
 partner, down to see you." 
 
 "Fine young fellow," remarked Hogan, "know him 
 well." 
 
 "Well, he s all the same as myself then, Hogan. 
 That fixes the whole thing." 
 
 "Glad of it! Go well armed, too. A good Win 
 chester, pistol and knife, and take an old cop s ad 
 vice just when you think you re all right, the coast 
 clear and no danger near, then skin your eyes. I don t 
 know what your business is, but there s an ugly taint 
 of dirty, cowardly work against you in this whole 
 affair." The gay captain disappeared whistling "Annie 
 Rooney. " 
 
 The pleasant half-hour with Lieutenant Walsingham 
 in the parlor with the ladies was supplemented by ten 
 minutes of private confab. "See here, doctor," he 
 said, as he scribbled a card to the navy agent at Key 
 West, "find Old Frenchy, the slaver. He s nearly 
 seventy, but even to-day the best skipper in the Spanish 
 Main. True as gold, he knows every rock and turtle spit 
 down there and has always a lot of schooners and yachts 
 in traffic. He s your very man. Tell him I sent you. 
 The navy agent will have a private letter from me. " 
 
 A few days later four stalwart young men were the 
 very last to cease waving their hats and kerchiefs as 
 the great sea-bound Touraine backed out slowly into 
 the Hudson. Two of these fancied that there was 
 something meant, for one heart alone, in the last
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 169 
 
 fluttering signal of dark-eyed Inez and dazzling Miss 
 Ethel Lorimer. On the finger of one of the watch 
 ing lovers gleamed a slender golden band which spoke 
 of future hope, now glowing only hidden in that lover s 
 breast a sweet secret, half of which future pledge 
 was throbbing on Inez Romero s fair white bosom. 
 
 Nixon had shyly filched a bit of golden hair with a 
 sunny wave in its bright filaments, .and this was to be 
 his own secret talisman in the future days skimming 
 over the glassy waves of the blue Caribbean and des 
 tined to light the dark hours under the glowing tangles 
 of the literally howling wilderness of the unexplored 
 forests of Honduras. 
 
 All was now ready for the quest. The day had come 
 when the three friends separated to meet at Key 
 West. 
 
 Tom Ellison, the home guard, wrung Frank Lorimer s 
 hand stoutly in parting. For the young lawyer was 
 now billeted by rail to St. Augustine, Florida, to there 
 meet Abercromby, who had already sailed by steamer 
 to Havana, with a mysterious mission to Admiral Top- 
 lights ; and Doctor Nixon, now bowling down pastHat- 
 teras on the Florida steamer. 
 
 "Frank !" muttered the anxious Ellison, "remem 
 ber, old boy, if anything happened to you, it would 
 simply break three hearts. Don t forget Hogan s ad 
 vice. Trust nothing to no one down there. And may 
 God bless you ! " 
 
 Frank Lorimer, light at heart as the train passed 
 out of Jersey City, felt that mysterious thrill of young 
 blood which comes always with "going into action." 
 
 "If there are any emeralds to be had on the Man- 
 galile," he joyously pledged himself, "we will try and 
 imitate friend H. Kinsley Syntax, and make a clean 
 scoop " 
 
 For he was a lover, brave and bold and strong in the 
 golden chain he lightly wore the love of the dark-eyed 
 Cuban girl now wandering along the Champs Elysees.
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 A MODERN FILIBUSTER. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HELPLESS IN THE FOREST. 
 
 "I DON T see anything the matter with this part of 
 the trip, do you ?" idly remarked William Abercromby, 
 M.D., as he gazed at Frank Lorimer, counsellor-at- 
 law, who had just dexterously flopped a good-sized 
 red mullet on the deck of the schooner BeauregarJ. 
 
 The shimmering rays of the sun were slowly dying 
 in a pearly mist and yearning toward the purple haze 
 of the night. The still water, a blue crystalline flood, 
 brimmed up to the very level of the coral reefs known 
 as the Dry Tortugas. 
 
 The stout schooner daintily swam on the shallow 
 waters, where by day opal, aqua-marine and emerald 
 flashes gleamed up from the branching gardens below, 
 nature s fairy aquarium. The deck of the boat was 
 deserted save by one lazy sailor, coiled up on a pile of 
 loosened sail and watching the "Portuguese man-o - 
 war" float by. 
 
 The silent octagon of huge Fort Jefferson lay before 
 them only a few cable lengths away, and on clear nights 
 Key West light blinked out its friendly "Good-by" 
 over the silent waters of the Florida channel, the 
 dreamy seas of the tropics. 
 
 "So far, it s only a picnic an aquatic night dream," 
 said Frank Lorimer, ringing out a cheery "Aye, aye, 
 sir" as Nixon popped his head out of his cabin hatch. 
 
 " Lobscouse and mystery for three. Tumbledown 
 here, lads," sung out the doctor. "Tony has thrown 
 himself for our last meal in American waters."
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 171 
 
 "My native land, good night," mournfully murmured 
 Lorimer, as he coiled up his fishing lines. 
 
 " Yes, Frenchy says we ll be well under way before we 
 wash decks again," answered Abercromby, as they 
 sought the cabin. 
 
 There was no sound but the jingling of table equipage 
 for some time, as the three had already developed their 
 regulation sea appetite. The cabin was spacious and 
 comfortable, and Abercromby remarked, at the black 
 coffee and cigar stage of the meal : "Where inthe wo rid 
 did this old beach-comber pick up a vessel like this ? 
 She s a beauty." 
 
 "So she is," slowly said Nixon, "and I fell in love 
 with her when I first saw that glistening gold streak on 
 her black sides, and the carved eagle at her stern. Do 
 you know that she has a very strange history?" 
 
 "Tell us," cried the others, who now yearned for an 
 after-dinner yarn. 
 
 " I got it from Lefferts, the Key West navy agent," 
 began the doctor. " Fifteen years ago the beauty cost a 
 mint of money with two huge sticks in her twice the 
 proper size, and sails big enough for a corvette. She 
 capsized, being over-sparred, in a squall off Staten 
 Island, and made the name Mohawk a sad memory 
 to those who knew that princely family of New 
 Yorkers who nearly all perished in her. Sold for 
 a song under a probate order, she then passed through 
 several hands, and distinguished herself later by drown 
 ing a colonel of engineers and a party of his official 
 subordinates off Fernandina harbor, Florida, turning 
 turtle again in a tornado. Tony found the dismasted hulk 
 floating out at sea tight as a drum. It was drifting 
 around in the channel, the wonder of the albicore and the 
 admiration of the white shark. The ex-pirate dragged 
 her into a cove, then sawed off a few extra yards of 
 bowsprit and put some moderate-sized sticks in her. 
 In Frenchy s hands, with conservative canvas, she can 
 even now walk past a flying square rigger. For he knows 
 all her wicked capers to a dot, and his graceful loyalty 
 is testified by the name Beauregard, so saucily slapped 
 on over Uncle Sam s own carved eagle." 
 
 " To what base uses we may return, Horatio," mur-
 
 172 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 mured Lorimer. " The millionaire s costly toy to pass 
 into the doubtful hands of our sea Figaro, Antoine 
 Lemaire. Frenchy, the slaver, man-o -war sman, 
 wrecker, blockade runner, smuggler, pirate, and 
 all-round general utility man for the United States 
 army, navy and treasury." 
 
 "Yes," laughed Abercromby, "Pilot for all the 
 world, chief satellite of the Cuban renegade, friend of 
 the filibuster, and dead agin every government that 
 lives." 
 
 "He s a singular old wild duck," remarked Nixon. 
 
 Just then a bullet head popped into the companion- 
 way with a pair of twinkling gray eyes shining keenly 
 over a bristling gray mustache. The face was as brown 
 as old mahogany, and "Frenchy" then gayly cried: 
 " All right! Vamos nosotros; a demain ! " 
 
 "Let her go, Gallagher! " laughed Lorimer. 
 
 With this Tony wobbled away, crying: "Three 
 days more and you see Omoa Castle. Big old fort. 
 Spanish ! Sacrc ! " 
 
 Frank walked the deck for half an hour, for two dark 
 Creole eyes were shining down into his heart as the 
 stars hung white and trembling over the anchored ves 
 sel, floating as if suspended in air under the sapphire 
 skies of the Caribbean. 
 
 Once more he was leaving his native land to take 
 chances among the Spanish Americanos. True, the 
 island he looked on was only Dry Tortugas and the 
 fort almost deserted, with crumbling bastions and dis 
 mounted columbiads still, over it floated the flag of 
 the United States! 
 
 Then he was joined by his friend. 
 
 "Who would think that old chap in his razeed sea- 
 boot slippers, canvas trousers and a hickory shirt was 
 the proprietor of a nautical boneyard valued at a quar 
 ter of a million dollars?" mused Nixon, as he lit a 
 fresh cigar. 
 
 "I would like that Bayard of the lead pencil, Mr. 
 H. Kinsley Syntax, of the Calliope, to write up his pict 
 uresque old haunt on Orange river," remarked Aber 
 cromby. " Lefferts tells me that Frenchy has an 
 entire island there, all to himself. He rules with a rod
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 173 
 
 of iron some still faithful slaves who know not even 
 now the name of Father Abraham. There is also 
 an old negro Voudoo princess who acts as his Fatima. 
 His collection of old junk and marine curios stolen 
 from wrecks is very amusing, and yet they tell me that 
 the bankers and capitalists of the Key West admiralty 
 court will back Tony Lemaire on his simple word at 
 any time with a hundred thousand dollars." 
 
 " According to his lights he is a pretty square man," 
 replied Nixon. 
 
 "Yes, wreckers lights," chuckled Doctor William. 
 "He s a nimble old chap, too. They tell me that his 
 seventy years count sixty of realistic romance since he 
 skipped out of Bordeaux a cabin boy at ten, and burst 
 his mother s apron string with a resounding snap. 
 Lefferts says that he used to pilot the Wanderer 
 when Lamar ran the last Congo niggers into the 
 Savannah River, and has often seen the bobbing heads 
 rise and fall in their wake, as the poor Africans 
 were walked overboard, chained together to leave a 
 clean bill of health when hove to by a Government 
 cruiser." 
 
 Here Lorimer interjected : "Quit romance and come 
 to business. What is our itinerary on the raging 
 main ? " 
 
 "I believe, answered Nixon, that after lingering 
 along the Central American coast here and there for a 
 few days, as if leisurely trading or looking for a banana 
 plantation site, we can happen in at Truxillo. There 
 we get a handy little mule train and cross the interior 
 ranges until we strike the great unknown Aguan River. 
 There are so many straggling parties of American 
 prospectors who are wandering around, lured down 
 there by humbug colonization schemes, that we will 
 only be regarded as three more unfortunates. Yet 
 I am sorry that we do not land and break into the 
 mountains by Puerta Cortez or San Juan. We would 
 so be spared the needless curiosity of all the mingled 
 scoundrels, bravos and refugees of Truxillo." 
 
 " True," calmly said the lawyer, " and we might also 
 wander up and down, two or three hundred miles 
 astray, in the terrific gorges of the Mangalile and upper
 
 174 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 branches of the winding Aguan and never know 
 whether we were above or below our point. No ! we 
 must strike over the iron coast range from Truxillo, 
 cross the great Arinal range to Jocon, and then follow 
 up the Mangalile from its junction. In that way we 
 must recognize the sharp nose on the South with the 
 great nostril bored through it by the wild dashing 
 river." 
 
 "I fear, too, that we may be followed or paralleled, 
 tracked or spied on if we go to Truxillo. Can we not 
 cross the mountains, build some canoes and work up 
 the river?" anxiously questioned Nixon. 
 
 " We could work down like a flash," quickly said 
 Lorimer, "but even a Thorneycroft launch could not 
 force its way up the Mangalile." 
 
 "It looks like a rocky road to Dublin," remarked 
 Abercromby, "for Cortez lost three hundred men in 
 four days there on the quartz-fanged hillsides." 
 
 " He won t lose us," determinedly said Lorimer. 
 "We are not clad in two hundred pound suits of pot 
 metal armor. I am going in for these emeralds if I 
 wade up the river like a flamingo." 
 
 " Selah ! " remarked both his auditors as they took an 
 observation and turned in. 
 
 When they turned out for their tub at the time of 
 deck washing, the Beauregard was already spinning 
 along over crisp seas and Tony Lemaire was most en 
 ergetically damning his crew in choice imprecative ex 
 cerpts from the various languages acquired in his in 
 teresting career. 
 
 "Jimmy," said Abercromby, "How I envy your 
 staccato friend, Frenchy the Slaver. If I could only 
 swear as satisfactorily as this retired pirate I would like 
 to paralyze a New York hackman or two." 
 
 The time passed rapidly. " Frenchy the Slaver," 
 lightly tempted, opened his "knowledge box" and 
 dilated upon the legends of Porto Bello, Tortuga, Coro 
 Island and Cayman Grand. He revealed a vast treas 
 ury of stories caught up from sea rover, slaver, smug 
 gler and the proud, defiant children of the freebooters. 
 Tales of the Carib s unerring vengeance, legends of the 
 slave uprising of Santo Domingo and weird stories of
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 175 
 
 Voudoo vengeance and of the wild planter life of the 
 West Indies fell from his lips as he narrowly watched 
 the helmsman yelling out a warning when the Beau- 
 regard fell off a half-point. 
 
 In all this chaff there were stray pearls of great 
 value, and the three young men drank in these stories 
 a la Sinbad cum grano salts, and yet to their practical 
 edification. 
 
 They exchanged knowing winks as Tony lit a flat 
 "Cabana," saying: " Don t trus no Truxillo manna. 
 Voleurs, thief a man ! Truxillo bloody hole. I 
 know him. I bin calaboose there three weeks. I there 
 when General Walker, great filibustero, shot. Both his 
 eyes blaze like a gray eagle." 
 
 And Lemaire walked away muttering curses loud 
 and deep on all Hispano-American officials. He 
 summed up their many perfections in one sweeping 
 remark, capable of universal application: " Port Admi 
 ral, you be damned!" 
 
 In fact, Frenchy the Slaver saw no necessity for 
 government of any kind. He only reverenced the 
 "shipping articles" and the memory of the great 
 Napoleon. 
 
 Two days later the Beauregard glided along swiftly 
 on an enchanted sea. To the north, a few miles away, 
 green fringed Bonaca slept upon the waters ; to the west 
 blue hills all palm-sh aded rose where Ruatan stretched 
 its fifty miles of witching beauty, fleeting by them like 
 a floating island of the Hesperides. 
 
 "It s not this one, but the middle one that we wish 
 to see," murmured the three friends, as they watched 
 the boiling white crystal flash out of the sparkling 
 blue, under the swift schooner s dancing heel. 
 
 The next morning Nixon, as he walked the deck at 
 sunrise with Lorimer, for they were all excited now, 
 gave an exclamation of joy and whispered : " Here is 
 the very place that the Don described. The middle 
 island. It confirms his story in every word." 
 
 Abercromby joined them as he resumed: "Now we 
 will take the fresh water here and in six hours bear 
 away for the heel of Belize Bay. 
 
 Under a golden sun the next day faint curving shore
 
 176 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 lines crept out low to the north, purple mountains 
 backing the horizon to the south and west, and a few 
 silver sails flecked the dreaming waters of Belize Bay, 
 as the three gathered Americans listened to Frenchy s 
 harangue. 
 
 "Belize," pointed Lemaire to the north. "One 
 English regiment every year. El vomito ! Yella Jack. 
 He kill all. Todos ! Governor, man, lady all ! 
 There, him Guatemala ! " pointing to the west, and 
 then wheeling to the south in rapid succession he 
 snapped his Gallic fingers, cigarito-stained, in scorn. 
 " Puerta Cortez Livingston, Omoa, Ceiba, Truxillo. 
 Ah ! Ladrones Sacre Honduras ! " 
 
 They looked upon this scene with eager eyes. For 
 in those blue mountains, stretching faint and far, lay 
 the silent, haunted river chasm whose secret deposit of 
 three centuries was their quest. On the threshold of 
 the unknown, they were face to face at last with the 
 dangers of the voyage. 
 
 "It is prudent," murmured Lorimer, "to generally 
 give out our prospecting character here." It was the 
 next day, and the three friends were gazing at Puerta 
 Cortez, a dwarfed semblance of townhood, as an official 
 boat dragged out over the oily tide to board them ; but 
 Consul Bertrand had squared all their papers, so they 
 had a clean bill of official health. 
 
 For two hours the pompous lieutenant poked around 
 in every corner of the Beauregard, while P renchy, 
 with a vast wave of florid politeness, forced meat and 
 drink offerings upon the military customs party. 
 
 " Ah t voleurs canailles /" he cried, as the boat glided 
 away to Omoa Bay. But keen and sensible were 
 Frenchy s actions, all guarded by an infinite prudence. 
 
 " To-morrow we will go ashore and look at Omoa 
 Castle," said Lorimer. "Then skim along down to 
 Truxillo. There we will strike for the interior at once, 
 while Frenc hy fills the boat up with hides and skins at 
 all the little landings, so as to give an excuse to hover 
 around in harbor for our return." 
 
 "I am glad we have ended the first chapter," re 
 marked Nixon, as the anchor rattled down within gun 
 shot of the great, silent masonry fortress which cost
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 177 
 
 Philip of Spain ten millions of pesos. The three 
 friends could see the flash of a single bayonet on the 
 ramparts. 
 
 Dreamy, low, shallow lagoons lay sweltering about 
 it, and a pestilential swamp surrounded the great keep. 
 It was under the main sally port, where the sculptured 
 arms of Spain still braved the passing years, that Lori- 
 mer whispered: " We are at last on the enemy s soil." 
 
 Even in an hour s rambling over the little settlement, 
 doubt, suspicion and malevolent distrust hung around 
 the three strangers. 
 
 Natives clad in a single garment, dangling the mur 
 derous machete from a rawhide girdle, followed them, 
 and a loafing squad of soldiers sullenly ordered them out 
 of the ruined Omoa Castle, whose exquisite old bronze 
 guns lay around as they fell when tumbled into the dry 
 ditch by the wrathful blue-jackets of indignant John 
 Bull. For with all John s money plethora and time 
 serving commercial spirit, there is a considerable tide 
 of life in the old lion yet. 
 
 I doubt me not it would to-day take at least two 
 first-class powers to twist the tail of the British lion to 
 a finish ! Albion s steel floating fighting-boxes are still 
 manned by English tars, and Tommy Atkins, as heard 
 of at Rorke s Drift and El Teb, can do far grimmer 
 work than mystifying pretty nurse girls in London 
 parks with those natty canes and those "skin-tight sojer 
 clothes." 
 
 "This is a good place to get out of," suggested 
 Lorimer. " I am now familiar enough with the sugar- 
 rum booths, unhung scoundrels, banana groves and 
 brush huts each tenanted by a score of missing 
 links. " 
 
 Tony Lemaire was soon dragged away from a crowd 
 of compadres and comadores and instructed to " up- 
 sail " and make for Congrehoy Peak, towering ten 
 thousand feet above the rocky plateau where old Trux- 
 illo gleams out white among the clustered palms 
 around the stately old fortress where once the haughty 
 Spanish garrison discharged their culverins vainly at 
 saucy Henry Morgan. 
 
 The moldering council halls, broken convent arches
 
 178 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 and squalid barracks still speak of the romance of the 
 old times and the frowzy death-in-life of the days of a 
 ghastly imitative republic effort. Honduras, the slave 
 of the military jackanapes dictator, is the refuge of 
 the vile, thrust out from all other lands. And its sad 
 supremacy of filth, villainy and degeneracy remains 
 unchallenged by any other autonomy on the Western 
 continent. 
 
 " There s a good deal of country here," remarked 
 Doctor Abercromby, as he gazed two days later on the 
 shining beach with its fruit groves stretching forty miles 
 along the rocky plateau, the purple sierras towering 
 far above. 
 
 " Wait till you get over a few of the ranges and you 
 will see more of this delectable land," rejoined Nixon. 
 "A paradise on earth, as the writer of that exquisite 
 little funny tale, Millions in Bananas, paints it." 
 
 "I shall be pleased to get in and get out, " laughed 
 Lorimer, but his blue eyes were keenly fixed beyond 
 the serrated line which parted them from the lost treas 
 ure of Maracaibo. 
 
 And in a half hour they stood on the silver strand 
 where Cortez had marshaled his men, and wandered up 
 the rocky road where that ill-placed Napoleon of des 
 tiny, Filibuster Walker, went "with bloody hands to a 
 hospitable grave." Strange, restless war-hawk of 
 peace times! Had the Tennessee journalist-lawyer 
 lived ten years longer, Forrest and John Morgan 
 would have been pushed hard for the divided laurels 
 of the "dare-devil of the Southern Confederacy." 
 
 William Walker s memory is now fading away. Silent, 
 reserved, slight, gray-eyed and thin-lipped, he was a 
 grim duellist with Fate to the death! He only needed 
 one last smile of fickle fortune to have climbed that 
 single step which separates the adventurer from the hero 
 of history. For, alas, principles are nothing. Success 
 alone is the modern touchstone. 
 
 The white stars gleamed down on the three friends 
 that night as they left the great mongrel drinking saloon 
 of the one hotel of the town to find coolness, safety and 
 tranquillity in the open square, sullenly eyed by the 
 prowling Hondurean night guards.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 179 
 
 "If money will buy mules," energetically said Aber- 
 cromby, "let us all sleep al fresco on the trail to 
 morrow night, for we will be followed out of here as 
 sure as shootin, as the Yankees say." 
 
 And so the morning lark found them convulsing the 
 mule market with Frenchy s energetic bargaining; for 
 he sighed also to be three marine leagues away off shore. 
 
 "Bad a town! Sacre voleurs!" he wrathfully re 
 peated, as he rolled off his denunciations of the rascally 
 animal peddlers. 
 
 At sunset the three young men strolled across the 
 square of Truxillo with Captain Tony Lemaire. They 
 were the proud possessors of ten little mules resem 
 bling enlarged jack-rabbits. 
 
 A couple of peasant muleteers were engaged por el 
 viaje ; then the friends walked down to the beach as 
 the day was declining. 
 
 They were ready for their journey to the interior. 
 Frenchy had sent them a faithful amphibious cook ; 
 also a familiar of his who was an Admirable Crichton of 
 general utility, besides having an excellent record as an 
 "all around " fighting man. 
 
 They turned at the edge of the rocky plateau and 
 then gazed at the eight-thousand-foot sierras towering 
 gray and wildly heaped up to the far west. 
 
 "To-morrow night you climb canon there, an old 
 Cortez stairway. Ah ! Dam quel rude voyage. I 
 came out on sea, run down to Cape Gracian a Dios, 
 buy a load hides and buckskins. I come back, wait 
 here till you come ! " remarked Frenchy, who was glad 
 to get out of Truxillo. Old smuggling tricks rose up 
 against him. "Well," he said, as a burly sailor toiled 
 up the steep road, "when you come, Morales ?" 
 
 Then the stranger and Frenchy exchanged much 
 strange gibberish. 
 
 The young men walked home an hour later and killed 
 time gazing on the bay, where a fruit steamer and a 
 gaunt three-masted schooner, just arrived, gave an air 
 of nautical life, the Beauregard being the only other 
 craft dancing on the blue waters beside them. 
 
 "You say, Tony," remarked Lorimer, "that that 
 craft hails from Havana?"
 
 I So HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 "No, from Matanzas, senor. " 
 
 "Matanzas ! I m glad we leave in the morning," 
 said Nixon suddenly, almost anxiously. 
 
 Late into the night the three chums labored in the 
 Hotel Paseo in adjusting the loads and packs of the 
 beasts of burden and in making all "ship-shape" for 
 the personal outfit carried by each. The two mule 
 teers drove the animals afield and vowed by Todos 
 los Santos ! to show up with the morning star. 
 
 "I am glad that our cook and fighting man will 
 sleep with all the plunder," remarked Lorimer, as the 
 three men were about to retire to fight mosquitoes and 
 wait for the hour of reveille. 
 
 A most tempting bait in the line of saddles, mining 
 gear and provisions lay around the little storeroom 
 assigned them. 
 
 "Better hide away all your watches and valuables, 
 senores, or leave them in my safe," said burly Juan 
 Crespo, the boniface. "I ve known men to be cut in 
 pieces with a machete for a single silver dollar up 
 there where you are going." The host jerked his 
 thumb most contemptuously toward the canino real 
 stretching out toward far Tegucigalpa, twenty days 
 march away. 
 
 These remarks tended to make their sleep restless, 
 the mosquitoes presiding at their unquiet dreams. 
 
 "I wonder if we will be followed? "mused Nixon next 
 morning, as he gazed at their road-agent outfit; rifle, 
 revolver, knife and cartridge-belts being the adornment 
 of each, with a pair of cart-wheel spurs and the inglo- 
 rioussun helmet which defies even Garnet Wolseley, Lord 
 Roberts or Stanley Africanus to look stately. 
 
 Then in the pearl-gray mist of morning the young 
 men rode four hours along the shell-strewn beaches, 
 watching the diminutive mules trot away nimbly under 
 their packs. At Bella Vista, when they turned and 
 gazed back toward the noble bay and Truxillo Point, 
 the Beauregard looked like a wind-blown cloud of 
 silver out on the blue sea; but the Cuban three- 
 master was still there riding at anchor off the fortress. 
 
 Looking on the schooner Nixon growled: "Captain 
 Morales from Matanzas, for a load of cattle, and
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. l8l 
 
 Frenchy says the town is filled now with desperate 
 Cuban criminals and refugees. We must be very wary. 
 Who knows?" Then he lost himself in vain musing 
 as he toiled up the steep pass. 
 
 He scented danger once more. A vague feeling he 
 could not explain possessed him of terrors hovering 
 far beyond the blue Sierras there above them. Cuba 
 brought back sad memories. 
 
 Step by step the sure-footed mules picked their way 
 up the narrow stairway, where rocky steps had been 
 cut by Indians bleeding under the lash of the Spanish 
 conquerors three hundred years before. Dizzy and 
 nerve-numbed, they ceased to gaze into the awful gorges 
 whose edge was but a yard away, and a gloomy silence 
 fell on them under the wild tropic jungle trees. 
 
 By nightfall they had entered a gorge leading down 
 toward the hillocks, sloping toward the valley of the 
 great Aguan. On a smooth stretch of a few hundred 
 yards, the feet of a galloping animal had plowed great 
 sliding marks in the dark wet earth. 
 
 Nixon s theory as to the chances of being followed 
 was correct, but none of the brave-hearted Americans 
 even dreamed that a lad with gleaming coal black eyes 
 and wind-blown hair had dashed along at daybreak, 
 racing toward the plains of Sonaguera and El Jicaro; 
 muttering, "I will keep ahead of them out of their 
 way, and, Madre de Dios, I will have my revenge! " 
 
 For neither the glittering knife nor keen machete he 
 carried was whetted as sharp as the mad thirst for 
 vengeance borne by the dark-faced young rider whose 
 left shoulder yet twitched in the night air with reminis 
 cences of a pistol bullet. 
 
 Strange dreams of foreboding haunted Nixon s pil 
 low that night. 
 
 Three days later, toil-worn and uneasy, the friends 
 gazed upon the mighty Aguan, its banks breaking 
 away in vast forest groves to the northwest, where the 
 Jocon and Mangalile mountains showed their sharp 
 blue peaks in air, a hundred miles away. 
 
 A squalid hamlet with a couple of circular bush cor 
 rals on a mount fifty feet high, crowning a point jutting 
 into the Aguan, was the night station.
 
 182 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 A dozen men and women lounged around the filthy 
 interior of the main hut. Hammocks strung thickly 
 side by side sheltered an old crone and a half-delirious 
 fever patient. Around an earth oven two dark-browed 
 scoundrels, armed to the teeth, were insolently famil 
 iarizing themselves with several slatternly Honduranean 
 women. 
 
 Sullen aversion had marked the arrival of the seven 
 strangers with their band of laden mules. 
 
 Through dry wastes, baking logwood groves, gloomy, 
 tangled morasses and squalid huts had marked their 
 path; no noise save the yell of the mountain tiger or 
 the chattering of monkeys and screaming of macaws 
 had disturbed them. 
 
 The great tropical primeval forest of the Aguan lay 
 spread out, steaming below them and stretching 
 hundreds of miles up and down its tortuous banks. 
 Fairy orchids bloomed on the giant mahogany trees, 
 swinging on graceful vines; fronded ferns were parted 
 by the gorgeous plumage of the chattering tropic 
 birds; every witchery of nature had made these silent 
 forests worthy of a Dore s pencil. But in all this beauty, 
 the waters below lay black and poisonous in the rotting 
 lagoons, where the cayman eyed the fetid coils of the 
 enormous boas, and every thorn thicket had its poison 
 ous snake or steel-fanged creeping things. 
 
 The fever breath was wafted around them, and now 
 at nightfall a thousand wild discordant screams told of 
 the sleepless hell of the tropic forest. 
 
 "I don t like the looks of this dirty hole," said 
 Nixon, as the three friends saw the black night fold 
 them in among the squalid scoundrels. 
 
 Lorimer and Abercromby, too, were gloomy. "One 
 of us had better sleep and the other two watch ; our 
 two Beauregard men must also relieve each other 
 with the cattle," suggested Frank. 
 
 The steaming night wore on as the friends slung 
 their hammocks from the rough beams of the shed and 
 sighed for the "flesh-pots" of New York; for their fire 
 furnished forth a camp supper from the reserve canned 
 provisions. 
 
 Dogs and pigs strayed in to the hut through the open
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 183 
 
 doors. The wild forest tumult screamed indistinctly 
 around them, while the rushing Aguan murmured 
 hoarsely below. The rum bottle and mescal calabash 
 were busied in the dirty little station, where the brutish 
 murmurs and coarse chuckles of the wild vaqueros 
 and their hard-faced slatterns dominated the more 
 distant noises of the jungle. 
 
 In the valley below, Lorimer had noted a single tele 
 graph wire strung along the lonely trail, it was the 
 last link binding them to the seashore. All else was 
 primeval, savagery not a whit reduced by man s brut- 
 ishness. 
 
 " How far may we have to drive ourselves into this 
 tropic horror yet before we reach the tunneled point 
 of the Mangalile ? " mused Nixon, leaning on his rifle 
 at the angle of the hut. He raised his repeater as a 
 dark form suddenly glided to his side. But with finger 
 on trigger he paused. 
 
 It was the Beauregard s fighting man. He 
 grasped Nixon s arm, and the brooding depression of 
 the night was now realized in the hidden foe s first 
 snaky movement. 
 
 " Wake all our friends silently," whispered the out 
 lying man. "A dozen thieves have stampeded all our 
 mules. We are helpless in the forest now."
 
 184 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 CHAPTER XITI. 
 
 THE AMBUSH ON THE AGUAN. 
 
 "WAIT a moment, Baxter," answered the excited 
 Nixon, as he joined the startled watcher in the dark 
 shade of the palm sheds around the hut. " Before we 
 make a break let us hear all your story. " He slipped 
 his big revolver around to the front and quietly tested 
 the action of his Winchester. 
 
 "Easy enough to see," growled Baxter. "It s a 
 case of put-up job. This is one of the worst murder 
 holes on the Aguan, and many a murdered man has been 
 pitched into the river from these bluffs. Cayman teeth 
 wipe out all knife and bullet marks very easily. These 
 chaps have posted some fellows to run off with our 
 stock. Very likely some one who is dead down on your 
 mining projects." 
 
 Nixon started! 
 
 This idea had not yet materialized in his mind. He 
 had only thought of the gracefully loose custom of 
 horse-stealing which hangs as a modest wreath around 
 the sunburned neck of the average Honduranean. 
 
 "They want to dump you down here discouraged 
 and have your party turn back," concluded the irate 
 Baxter, known over the Mississippi valley and the 
 Gulf by the curt designation "Tough." "There s 
 only two things to do. One is throw up the game. 
 The other is to jump these fellows at once, and 
 if they don t find our mules, then to take theirs. 
 There s a band now in the corral. If we force them 
 to find our stray animals they will soon offer to 
 mount us, and then try to lie their way out of 
 this affair. Choose quick, boss!" Then he -ran on: 
 " If these fellows are allowed to scatter they might 
 ambush us. Now we ve got em. Ten minutes later 
 we will lose our only chance. Yor the first man who 
 leaves this here jacal will turn out their own mules in 
 the corral, and then these liars will pretend theirs have 
 been run off too. Do you catch on?"
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 1.85 
 
 Nixon caught on. He jerked out his army revolver 
 and grasped his rifle in the left hand. " How shall 
 we do it?" he whispered eagerly. " Two of them are 
 heavily armed. 
 
 " Oh, easy enough," confidently replied Baxter. 
 " I ll sneak our men out and then we ll all sing out our 
 alarm. As they come out we ll bag them one by one. 
 I ve a riata handy here and I ll tie their arms till we 
 have a palaver." 
 
 "Go!" said the doctor, determinedly. In his heart 
 of hearts he had sworn to see that tunneled nose of 
 the Mangalile mountain, for the sake of the dear blue- 
 eyed Nixie of Fishkill. 
 
 The young American s heart thumped loudly as he 
 breathlessly waited the safe return of Baxter. 
 
 In a moment the others were with him. 
 
 "Quick, now," he whispered, as the "sea cook" 
 turned up on the run with his rifle at a trail and 
 Tough Baxter glided back, as serpent-like as Uncas. 
 We ll get them first ; then make our plans afterward !" 
 
 With their weapons ready the whole party softly 
 glided up to the great adobe where the slatternly 
 daughters of Venus still snored over the emptied 
 mescal bottles. Then the staccato voice of Baxter 
 was raised in an unearthly yell as he discharged one 
 barrel of his revolver. 
 
 The plan worked to a charm. 
 
 A startled throng came pouring out of the one low 
 entrance, as a frightened old crone waved a burning 
 brand! The next moment cursing and imprecations 
 arose from the men, who were neatly lariated, one by 
 one, by Baxter, while the four other Americans bound 
 them and kicked the weapons of the disarmed scound 
 rels into a heap. 
 
 In five minutes the American army of occupation 
 had arranged its sullen captives on one side of the hut, 
 all securely roped. Baxter and the cook guarded the 
 dozen or more women of the Spanish party and the 
 door was also securely barred. 
 
 Lights had been tremblingly lit by the venerable 
 crone who was head witch of this devil s hostelry. 
 
 As his party stood, back to back, watching all
 
 l86 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 quarters of their stronghold with ready revolvers, 
 through James Nixon s mind camt. one startling, se 
 cret conviction. "It is that cursed priest s work. In 
 some fatal imprudence we have unveiled ourselves and 
 the whole scoundrel scum of Honduras will hold up the 
 hands of this avenging Moses." 
 
 Frank Lorimer looked at his watch. "Half past 
 two," he muttered in English. " We cannot move be 
 fore five. Suppose that we should be attacked here, 
 what shall we do? " 
 
 There was a grim silence until Tough Baxter very 
 practically remarked: "Shoot all these fellows on the 
 inside first, and then a good bunch of the ones on the 
 outside. We have dead loads of cartridges." 
 
 This wholesale proposed application of the Lex 
 Talionis, though horrible, seemed about the only thing 
 to do. 
 
 " If we shoot a hundred greasers, that won t make 
 mule meat out of them," lazily remarked the "sea 
 cook." 
 
 " By Jove ! " sharply cried Frank Lorimer, " we 
 must go out at once and secure mules enough to get 
 out of this murder trap." 
 
 Baxter s calm voice was heard. " Let us all leave 
 here. Fetch the whole gang down to the mule corral. 
 Light a fire there and tie these men up to the nearest 
 bush fence. If there s any ambush they ll get shot 
 first. We ll keep in the shadow." 
 
 " And our baggage ? " remarked Abercromby. 
 
 " Oh, easy enough. We ll make this gang tote all 
 our belongings down there." 
 
 "But what shall we do at daybreak ?" demanded 
 Nixon. 
 
 "There s only one thing to do," remarked the 
 guide. " We ve got a nasty lot of forest and ravines 
 and defiles to go through, and the Aguan to cross be 
 sides, to get on to Sonaguera. Push out at daybreak. 
 Make these fellows lead their own extra mules on, and 
 pack all our things besides. We will ride the best of 
 theirs. If there s any ambush I will see they get the 
 first dose. Besides, their frends will hardly kill them 
 just to get the show of a fight out of us. When we get
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 187 
 
 to Sonaguera, then we will turn in the whole gang to 
 the Alcalde there. He will be afraid of a row with the 
 American consul. You can just bluff the life out of 
 him. He will, anyway, let you take these fellows 
 mules till they find yours. I will bet my bottom dollar 
 these chaps will find those mules yet. I ll jabber away 
 at them. Don t you gentlemen let on you know any 
 Spanish." 
 
 There was sense in his rough words. "Baxter, you 
 are a born strategist," remarked Nixon, admiringly. 
 " Where did you pick up your generalship? " 
 
 "Oh, I was one of General John Morgan s men! 
 We rode half over the State of Ohio and drank up all 
 the old women s buttermilk, as well as walked off with 
 the fattest horses and the farmers gold watches. We 
 were gay old rebs, you bet," returned the ex-guer 
 rilla, as he calmly lighted a cigar. 
 
 In half an hour the transfer was duly made. Then 
 Tough amused himself by making one Honduranean 
 bravo, with his arms loosely pinioned, point out the 
 very best riding mules of the score of animals, as the 
 old woman drove them past one by one 
 
 The long hours till dawn dragged slowly along and 
 the three friends watched, lying ready on their arms, 
 while Baxter forced the sullen prisoners to place the 
 packs on all the mules and then caparison the riding 
 animals. 
 
 " It s about light enough now to travel," said the 
 ex-guerrilla. "When these old women have filled our 
 canteens and boiled us some coffee we ll make a break 
 for Sonaguera. But on this road it s mind your eye 
 and shoot quick! " 
 
 Coffee being over, Baxter slipped away to the de 
 serted adobe on the hill. He returned with a beaming 
 face. Then he chuckled, " No, I was not a-sayin my 
 prayers. I have just chucked all them shooting-irons 
 and machetes down into the whirlpool of the Aguan, 
 under the hill. So all these ruck and truck can get 
 back to their hole." 
 
 With this he dismissed the women with a paternal 
 smile. 
 
 Howls and wails arose as the men were forced away
 
 l88 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 by their captors, and the two unkempt daughters of 
 Venus loudly lifted up the voice of lamentation. 
 
 An hour later Tough led the way down the trail to 
 the ford of the Aguan, some eight miles distant. 
 Two men, lashed arm to arm, sullenly plodded on in 
 front, covered by the poised Winchester of the tran- 
 quil-souled frontiersman The three friends rode to 
 gether as a main fighting body in the middle of the 
 caravan, and the alert sea-cook brought up the rear. 
 
 It was a gloomy and a sullen morning journey. 
 Steaming heat arose from the awaking forest, where 
 strange animals scuttled across the paths. Myriads of 
 monkeys, swarms of shrill-voiced tropic birds and dis 
 tant beasts of prey made the echoes of the dark depths 
 ring again. Every eye was strained as the somber 
 shades grew denser, and the cavalcade slowly toiled 
 over the great flat to the ford of the Aguan. 
 
 At ten o clock a sorry-looking band was paraded 
 on the shining pebbly bank of the great river, at this 
 point some hundred yards broad. 
 
 Baxter alertly reconnoitered the ford, and then 
 returned with the most intelligent prisoner quailing 
 under his keen eye. 
 
 "It s all O. K. , gentlemen," he said. "We ve got 
 a clear beach on the other side to come out on, and 
 there s no ambush there. I ll just put these fellows 
 now in to lead the mules over, and the cook, ready to 
 fire on the instant, will follow me up. You could cover 
 our whole party with your heavy rifle. If there s any 
 firing, then cross over as quick as you can." 
 
 In ten minutes the great silent stream was safely 
 forded. 
 
 " I have made up my mind to one thing," laughed 
 Frank Lorimer to Abercromby as he came dripping 
 out of the knee-high stream. "I ll never travel with 
 out that ex-rebel if money can buy him. He s a Jim- 
 Dandy, that s just his regular size." 
 
 For the fighting man s ready wit and nerve placed 
 him in the front rank. 
 
 Noon high noon fiercely burned above them, the 
 blazing sun-rays poured down through trees two 
 hundred feet high, when the toiling cavalcade at last
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 189 
 
 halted. Immediately in their front was a long sunken 
 glen. Beyond, through rifts in the forest, bare 
 savannah patches showed out where the plains rolled 
 away toward distant Sonaguera. 
 
 Nixon s Truxillo-made map showed this village also 
 to be a military and telegraph headquarters. 
 
 As they halted to reconnoiter, the two leading pris 
 oners astounded the party by suddenly falling on their 
 knees and begging Baxter piteously to allow them to 
 go first down into the ravine. 
 
 " Here s some plant ! " quickly remarked the scout 
 as he peered down into the tropic wilderness below 
 them. 
 
 Then Nixon whispered to him, and the Americans 
 formed the sullen prisoners in a body and drove them 
 before them, still bound, down the slippery path. 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," said Baxter, determinedly, his 
 old rebel spirit rising. " Remember, if there s trouble 
 jump off and fight behind your mules. We must stick 
 closely together. I ll watch over these prisoners. 
 Here, give me one of your extra revolvers. I am a 
 little quicker than some of you," he grimly added, 
 stern memories coming to him of the days when Mor 
 gan and Gillem fought to the death in the blue Ten 
 nessee passes. 
 
 Every nerve was strained as they picked their way 
 down the flinty hillside, along the narrow trail where 
 the bushes hung so closely that a man s face was invis 
 ible five yards away. The "seacock" was at Baxter s 
 side, his eyes burning with the light of battle. In 
 silence they strode out of the sun s rays into the depth 
 of the ravine, where fern and palm, tangled vine and 
 dense thicket rose around a gurgling spring. 
 
 Then Baxter s right arm suddenly leveled the Colt 
 six-shooter. 
 
 There was a deafening roar, a chorus of yells, then 
 bellowing echoes and shrieks of pain as a cloud of blue 
 smoke drifted over the trail. The rapid ring of four 
 Winchesters, spitting fire to right and left, followed the 
 crack of the ex-guerrilla s ready frontier revolver; he 
 had got in the first killing shot. A moment after the 
 concealed thieves in ambush poured a volley into their
 
 190 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 own friends, now clumsily stumbling on in advance 
 of the five white men. 
 
 "Hold hand now, cease firing," ordered Baxter, 
 after a few shots from each rifle had thoroughly 
 scourged the thicket. "They are all on the back 
 track. Press forward and ford this little stream. Get 
 up as fast as you can to the high ground. Quick, for 
 your lives!" 
 
 Urged by fear, the yelling prisoners drove the fran 
 tic pack animals rapidly up the pass to save their own 
 wretched skins, as Baxter with the game sailor of the 
 Beauregard held the rear and waved the three young 
 men on. . Retiring alternately, they each dropped 
 shot after shot into the thicket on either side. 
 
 " Let s charge the thicket," shouted Nixon, his Celtic 
 blood at fever heat. 
 
 "Hold up, sonny," laughed the rebel veteran. 
 "Honduras has lost two good "alizers and a couple of 
 cripples are lying wounded down below. Now ride round 
 at once and gather up all the stray animals. We will 
 turn these other fellows loose and push along hard 
 into Sonaguera. I ll take one along as a witness." 
 
 With this he sternly motioned, revolver in hand, to 
 one of the frightened wretches to mount a bridleless 
 mule, the halter of which he held in his hand. The 
 cavalcade now quickly trotted along over the grassy plain. 
 "We are all right here," he said, as they reached a 
 rocky natural fort. "We c^uld stand fifty of these fel 
 lows off with their old pot metal trading guns." 
 
 "And what will we do at the town?" demanded the 
 three New Yorkers in simultaneous impulse. 
 
 " Oh, leave that to me," coolly replied Baxter. " I ll 
 open the ball with the Jefe Politico and make this 
 frightened beast tell him the whole truth." With this 
 he looked the unutterable at the prisoner, and added to 
 Nixon: "You three can just stand by and play injured 
 innocence. No sabe Espaiiol. 
 
 There was a hubbub such as the little burg never 
 before knew when Field-Marshal Baxter " rounded up " 
 his formidable command at the alcalde s door in Sona 
 guera. 
 
 In ten minutes a dozen half-naked soldiers, led by a
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. Ipl 
 
 much bedizened lieutenant, were loping along on their 
 way back to the scene of the ambush. The village 
 council, quickly convoked, listened to an impromptu 
 oration from Mr. Baxter, which outdid the memorable 
 achievement of " Single Speech" Hamilton. The story 
 of the deft "swiping" of the mules was soon made 
 known. During the frequent intervals of a three hour s 
 conference Baxter emerged to confer with the four 
 Americans guarding their "plunder" in front of the 
 official domicile. 
 
 The telegraph had been briskly clicking away, and 
 much sudden and unwonted energy was manifested by 
 various long-haired senoritasin bringing stores of eggs, 
 tortillas and coffee to the wondering quartet. The 
 signs of Baxter s potent magic were but too evident. 
 
 "He will soon make himself president of this ten- 
 cent republic, and go ringing down the halls of time," 
 remarked Abercromby, as the voice of " John Morgan s 
 man " rose in the shrill, nervy falsetto of the Southron. 
 
 All things come to an end, and when El Senor Bax 
 ter was escorted out by the junta and the obsequious 
 alcalde, he proudly led the way to the comandante s 
 headquarters. There, under the guard of four soldiers, 
 the luggage, arms and ammunition were neatly depos 
 ited on the floor in a heterogeneous pile. . Hammocks 
 were slung for rest, and through the open doors the 
 women and babies of Sonaguera gazed in admiration 
 upon the Americanos, who were voted " muy bravos." 
 
 Jt was a neat trick of his evolved leadership which 
 decorated " Tough " Baxter first name still unknown 
 with a huge red silk sash. 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," said he, as he gayly knotted this 
 spoil of war from the dead ranchero around him, "stay 
 together. I will put m a night with the fair senori- 
 tas and the ^enle de razon here, and if I 
 don t locate the headland we want to find, then 
 it s because good rum has lost its winning charm 
 and won t make people talk down here. The al 
 calde has already agreed to hold the extra mules 
 till our return, and says to go right on ahead with those 
 we ve swiped. He now guarantees the recovery of our 
 own animals. As for the slight blood-letting he only
 
 192 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 remarks : Muy mala gente ! Served them right ! I 
 did pile it on a bit. I spoke of our American fleet 
 and also made some reference to General Phil Sheridan 
 of gory renown. We will, moreover, have two 
 soldiers to pilot us on past Arinal and by Jocon to the 
 forks of the Aguan and the Mangalile. When we have 
 found the place we want, I will fool with these fellows 
 while you do your private prospecting." 
 
 The tired Baxter then treated himself to a half go 
 of sugar rum "on general principles." 
 
 " But as to our return ? They will waylay us surely," 
 gloomily remarked Nixon. 
 
 "They won t waylay us any more not a little bit 
 nary a time," crowed Generalissimo Baxter, as he 
 gracefully accepted a light from an admiring senorita 
 lingering at the door and gazing on his manly perfec 
 tions. "I know of a neat little cut-off road that will 
 take us back to Omoa Bay and so skip Truxillo. We 
 can telegraph to the American Consul from here 
 on our way back, so to have Captain Tony Lemaire 
 hang up the Beauregard in Omoa Bay, and wait for us 
 there." 
 
 " Baxter, you are a jewel," cried Frank Lorimer. 
 
 "That s what my girl used to say," sighed the ex- 
 rebel. "But she s been dead and gone this many a 
 year. She died, poor child, of a broken heart, for 
 every man in her family fell in battle for Dixie s land." 
 
 He walked suddenly away as if to gaze over the 
 darkening mountains, but the look in his eyes told the 
 young men that the ex-Confederate saw once again 
 the banner of the " Lost Cause." 
 
 "That s a brave fellow, " whispered Abercromby. 
 
 " Yes, they were dead game the men who rode with 
 Jackson and with Lee," sadly mused Nixon, as the 
 days when brothers butchered each other anonymously 
 came back in sad review. 
 
 It was two o clock before " Tough " Baxter returned 
 from his queer symposium. The sound of revelry by 
 night floated out from the open doors of the alcalde s 
 mansion. The tuning of guitars resounded and the 
 strident voice of the Southerner was once raised in song, 
 "The Bonnie Blue Flag."
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 193 
 
 But the chronicler as well as the sorrowing Record 
 ing Angel must add that Tough Baxter came back 
 " running very free before the wind." Yet he was the 
 bearer of a precious secret, of which he guarded the 
 sanctity even under the sway of the wand of that great 
 god, Bacchus, who has caught so many mortals tripping. 
 
 An admiring conclave of the entire population es 
 corted the five Americans and their two muleteers out 
 of Sonaguera in the early afternoon of the next day. 
 As they started the alcalde proudly led the way to the 
 calaboose. There, behind a grated iron door, the last 
 evidence of the plot at the thieves haunt lingered in 
 the shape of a heavily leg-ironed prisoner. 
 
 Baxter thoughtfully gave the crest-fallen scoundrel 
 a couple of packs of cigaritos, a pull of rum and some 
 very pithy, good advice. 
 
 " Hereafter, amigo mio, let all traveling Americans 
 alone. For you may again entertain angels unawares." 
 
 The beautiful oaks of Sonaguera plain nodded in 
 friendly shade over them as the five watchful white 
 men rode on behind the escort, the muleteers pushing 
 along the captured animals. "Sweet wonder" filled 
 the eyes of the three friends as with a proud modesty 
 Generalissimo Baxter let fall the various pearls of local 
 wisdom he had gathered in the brief glories of that 
 dazzling night. 
 
 " I am a pretty solid Honduranean now," said the 
 Southerner. " The great thing that I am a bit proud 
 of is that I have very fairly located the place we are 
 in search of. There is really such a big mountain 
 nose as you describe between Jocon and the little town 
 of Mangalile, and these soldiers know a little ranch 
 station right on the top of the ridge near what they 
 call Los Disparamades, where a little trail leads down 
 to the river bank. There was some queer business of 
 the olden time once going on there, for one of the 
 traveled beauties of Sonaguera filled my ears with a 
 long-ago yarn about the Witch of Mangalile, who is 
 supposed to haunt that old cave tunnel." 
 
 " Indeed! Tell us! " exclaimed Nixon, as the three 
 friends trotted along to the little half-way station which 
 was to end this day s short march.
 
 194 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 "Wait till we get into camp," pleaded the repentant 
 Baxter. " I have the whole scenery in my mind, and 
 I ll take you there straight as an arrow. But my head 
 is awful. This climate is a little warm for drinking 
 sugar rum of ninety degrees proof. I did learn from 
 a very buxom and matronly charmer that this same 
 cave was once a favorite smugglers resort. It is not 
 far from the Guatemala line, and tobacco, cigars, salt 
 and guns have been of ten stowed there, waiting a chance 
 to run them over the mountains. So I suppose these 
 bugaboo stories were only got up for a porpose. 
 They are a sly lot down here." 
 
 "How long will our march be ?" queried the im 
 patient Lorimer. 
 
 Only five days ; " but we have two terrific mountain 
 ranges to cross, and four or five deep Aguan ford- 
 ings." 
 
 " We will get there ! " cried the three New Yorkers. 
 
 So a wonderful unanimity reigned among them as 
 they plodded on. For the wine of life was bounding 
 in their young veins, and dreams of treasure trove 
 haunted their tired brains long after Baxter had told 
 them the story of the Witch of Mangalile, and they 
 were enwrapped each in his dearest dreams. 
 
 As he lay by the camp fire Doctor Nixon s mind 
 wandered away to past scenes of trouble and danger. 
 " Who is now on our trail ?" he muttered. " I might 
 fancy Padre Guerra would certainly dearly love to pay 
 us off. Impossible ! And the boy Valdes. Far away 
 in Cuba." 
 
 While his companion slept Frank Lorimer, rifle in 
 hand, gazed out on the chaparral fringing the night s 
 bivouac. The young New Yorker marked the listless 
 stride of their admiring sentinel, who muttered: " Muy 
 bravos los Americanos," as he passed by the lair where 
 the four white men lay curtained only with the stars. 
 
 The face of Inez Romero, witching in its noble and 
 plaintive beauty, then rose up before the guardian of 
 the night. The wailing breeze seemed to bear a strange 
 call to her side. " I ll see this first war-path through," 
 resolutely murmured the gallant Frank. Win or lose, 
 I will then go over to Paris for thank God I have
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 195 
 
 money enough to make Inez my wife to give her a home. 
 She shall forget the lost emeralds. Even now I ve 
 a mind to vote that whole story an infernal humbug." 
 
 He paused to light a cigar as a solace to his despond 
 ency. " I don t believe there s a single emerald " 
 
 Then he started wildly as the crack of a heavy revolver 
 roused the camp. Half blinded by the glare and sud 
 denly startled, he was unable to speak, as his comrades 
 rushed to his aid, for the alert soldier sentinel had thrice 
 replied to the fire of the unseen foe. 
 
 " It is useless to saddle up," cried Baxter, with ear 
 to the ground. He had caught the retreating sound of 
 horses hoofs on the gallop. 
 
 "A pretty close call, squire," remarked the 
 ex-Confederate, as bullet holes in Lorimer s coat and 
 hat were discovered. "You wouldn t do for the 
 Comanche country. That blaze of your cigar lighting 
 would have cost yourlife down there. I fancy that you 
 can see now why we old rebs only chewed tobacco on 
 sentinel s post. Then he added, gravely, "Gentlemen, 
 this is no ordinary marauder. We are followed, dogged, 
 and by some one with a bit of nerve. But for his haste 
 this would-be assassin would have potted Lorimer 
 here!" 
 
 Anxious faces greeted the dawn, as with the morn 
 ing coffee came Baxter s report that the tracks showed 
 that a horseman had ridden around the camp stealthily 
 for hours until the murderous attack on Lorimer. 
 
 " It clean beats me ! " said the veteran raider, slowly 
 shaking his head. "This prowling scoundrel has 
 ridden on ah&ad. Are we waited for again ? And 
 then he could have picked off the soldier sentinel quite 
 easily, but he waited for one of you." 
 
 Mr. Baxter walked away chewing a twig in deep 
 thought, and most carefully examined his personal 
 battery. 
 
 The three New Yorkers saddled their mules in 
 silence. "Can it be Guerra swork ?" growled Nixon, 
 as he spurred out in the lead. But he dared not voice 
 his thoughts to his moody companions as they rode on 
 over the sweltering plains toward Olanchito. 
 
 By common consent, Baxter was made the leader of
 
 196 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 the march. Each river ford was scouted, every tangled 
 path and wild logwood grove was duly scanned as they 
 toiled along. 
 
 " It may have been only one of these reckless Olan- 
 chito thieves," thoughtfully said Baxter, at their 
 noonday rest. "These higher valleys furnish the 
 black flag no-quarter rebels to every cut-throat 
 revolutionary general here. For the cruel men of 
 Olanchito never spare life. They are tigers for human 
 blood." 
 
 That night the jaded adventurers threw themselves 
 down in a sullen silence as they sheltered in the ver 
 min-infected adobe offered to the wayfarer by the 
 authorities of Olanchito, while Baxter made a call upon 
 the alcalde. 
 
 From this visit he returned with an angry brow. 
 " This is a good place to get out of !" he sardonically 
 growled "I was sharply questioned by the alcalde, and 
 he seems anxious as to where we were going to pros 
 pect and other impudence of the kind." 
 
 "What did you say?" asked Lorimer. 
 
 "I met his lies in kind," said Baxter, as ne pro 
 ceeded to swing his hammock. "I told him that we 
 were going on over the range to the Pacific. That 
 may throw him off our trail. There s a bad lot around 
 here, too. But we won t have trouble here in town." 
 
 The next afternoon the serrated line of the huge 
 Mangalile mountains rose up before them. 
 
 Over burning reaches and flinty mesas, past huts, 
 where frowsy, half -naked natives huddled to glare at the 
 gringos, the cavalcade toiled slowly along, armed at 
 all points and alert for the sudden attack. 
 
 Then the ex-Confederate halted the train before they 
 swam the mighty Aguan for the last time. 
 
 "Here, gentlemen," he said, "is our most ticklish 
 point on our return, whether successful or unsuc 
 cessful. The road to Yoro and Omoa is the 
 same as far as the summit yonder, forty miles away. 
 We will camp up there and I can lead you through the 
 forest by a short line to Omoa, where the Beaure- 
 gard awaits us. So we can outwit the spies on 
 our track, for they will lay for us on the return road
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 197 
 
 through these jungles to Truxillo. But we must hold 
 this secret locked in our breasts." 
 
 "So you have adventured down here before?" queried 
 Nixon in amazement. 
 
 "I helped to bring an American financial fugitive 
 secretly over from New Orleans, "coolly replied Baxter. 
 Up there I delivered him over to the escort of the per 
 sonal representatives of the then all-powerful tyrant 
 President of Honduras." 
 
 "And the President here protected him?" cried 
 Lorimer in surprise. 
 
 " Certainly," smiled Tough Baxter. "The Don got 
 a good share of the spoil. They are hard and fast 
 friends even yet." 
 
 "Queer country," mused Abercromby. "Very 
 queer." 
 
 "The only typical hell on earth," cheerfully said 
 Baxter as they rode into Arinal. " Here is the very 
 worst cut-throat nest in the Land of the Banana ; so 
 let us keep together and be very close-mouthed." 
 
 Forty-eight hours later the band of adventurers 
 straggled into Jacon, walled in from the outer world 
 with its gigantic mountain ranges. They had pain 
 fully toiled over an enormous sierra where even the 
 patient mules had to be beaten, along over the narrow 
 trails threading the fearful declivities. High up in the 
 thin blue air over them condors wheeled their airy 
 flight, mere specks against the blazing sun. 
 
 Gloomy pine reaches shrouded them in the mountain 
 amphitheater where the rude crosses and growing piles! 
 of memorial stones often marked the graves of murdered 
 wayfarers. They now had taken their last glimpse of 
 the great Aguan valley, and the three friends on the 
 summit of the ten-thousand-foot divide clasped hands 
 in a last silent compact as Baxter pointed to a blue 
 notch to the west. 
 
 "There s where we break down to the Mangalile 
 River," he said. " Our journey s end. And if we find 
 your old cave it won t take us long to discover if the 
 beautiful Indian princess, once murdered there, has 
 remained to keep house for us." 
 
 Then they thankfully sought the shelter of the
 
 I9& HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 wretched village of a hundred squalid huts and a 
 ruined church. 
 
 "It is a grim old haunt of misery and ruin, this last 
 village in the lonely mountains, " signed the once bright- 
 hearted Lorimer, as he laid his weapon in readiness 
 near his saddle pillow. And the wearied toilers slept. 
 Far above them rose the huge ridge, towering in 
 air where a narrow, dizzy trail led along to the 
 horrorsof the beetling Disparamades, where even stout 
 hearted Cortez quailed as his men, enfeebled, fell, 
 plunging into the depths of the Mangalile, dashing 
 themselves to pieces thousands of feet below. 
 
 As they slept under a double guard, waiting for the 
 morn; standing by a little watch fire on a cliff twenty 
 miles away, a single desperado was posted, stealthily 
 awaiting their toilsome ascent. 
 
 "If they escape now they bear charmed lives, these 
 cursed gringos," he muttered, as he enrolled his sad 
 dle swung hammock and serape. "I must work the 
 natives if they find the plunder. It is hidden here 
 somewhere, andflarDwsf I will have it. The Indians 
 must help me and hideme. until I can getaway!" 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE MISSING SIGNAL FIRE. 
 
 THE stars were still shining on the roofless 
 church of Jocon when Baxter awakened the party. 
 "We will need all the time we have, if we mean to 
 scale the crest to-night," he said, as he tendered the 
 morning coffee. "Our natives are driving up the 
 mules. I calculate to strike the foot of the mountain 
 by daybreak." 
 
 Nixon was girding up his loins with cartridge belt, as a 
 tremulous old Indian sacristan thanked him for the 
 douceur paid for the use of the cloistered shelter. 
 
 " Gracias, muy Sefior mw," muttered the last guard 
 ian of Mother Church. "Beware of the Disparamades 
 tigers in the mountain too. Many go by ah, so
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 199 
 
 few return. The dreadful witch of Mangalile rules over 
 wild savages. The canons are filled with the bones of men 
 and animals carried down into the chasms by accident; 
 only our sure-footed Indian barefoot runners can 
 tread the sides of the great slopes where the treach 
 erous greasy pine needles cover the six-inch trail, 
 where the Conquistadores went to their doom!" 
 
 "What is this old tale of the Witch Mangalile? " 
 interrupted Nixon, hastily. 
 
 "Ah, seiior, long before our day she died," mum 
 bled the sacristan. "There is an old cave in a great 
 point on the Mangalile the Devil s Nose, our -mule 
 teers call it. There sounds and unearthly yells echo 
 up the ghastly gorge; no one dares approach it. Padre 
 Santos, the last Vicar of Jocon, told me that the accursed 
 Buccaneers hid once in that cave. They lured a beau 
 tiful captive Indian princess to guide them to the sea. 
 Hiding here from the Spaniards, they made rafts to 
 descend the Mangalile, and buried their treasures in 
 the cave. To guard it they killed the faithful one, 
 who, led by love for their captain, had guided them to 
 where they could reach the Aguan on their rafts. She 
 was soon terribly avenged, for the native savages of 
 the Mangalile slew them all. Only one poor wretch 
 ever reached an I:;dian village at the forks of the 
 Aguan to tell the story. The murdered one s spirit 
 yet haunts the fearful gorge. No one returns alive 
 from there. " 
 
 " Would you guide me there? I have gold! " eagerly 
 asked Nixon. 
 
 But the old man shuddered as he crossed himself. 
 "Not for worlds! Sea por Dios y la Santissima! The 
 awful Valley of Death is haunted." And the sacristan 
 fled timidly away, as his auditor was called to business 
 by the impatient hallo of the anxious Baxter. 
 
 Down the shadowy river path they spurred, as the 
 dim woods became vocal with the discord of a tropic 
 forest. Riding by Lorimer sside Nixon told the quaint 
 story of the verger. "This- is only another form of 
 the leakage of the strange tradition of the lost Em 
 eralds cf Maracaibo, " answered Frank, enthusiasti 
 cally. "Dead or alive, I will tempt the Witch of
 
 200 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Mangalile!" Then in grim silence they toiled on till 
 the afternoon sun showed them a rude hut, lifted far 
 up in the blue ether on a spiral ridge sweeping away to 
 the west. 
 
 The chill mountain breeze swept wailing through the 
 stunted pines around them as they stood seven thou 
 sand feet above where the faint blue smoke wreaths 
 curled up from Jocon, twenty miles away. "Gentle 
 men, my work is nearly done," said Baxter shortly, 
 " for the Jocon muleteers tejl me that the Devil s 
 Nose can be plainly seen from the end of this ridge. 
 There is a spring in a clump of cedars, where the 
 Indian runner s trail breaks off for Tegucigalpa, at that 
 point we must leave the mules with a guide till we find 
 the way down the cliff to the river bed." 
 
 " Can we not descend into the gorge with the ani 
 mals?" anxiously asked Lorimer. 
 
 " Not for Joseph ! " replied the guide, " We will have 
 to leave one Indian and a volunteer to guard the 
 mules, while we go down. If any accident happens, or 
 we are delayed in your prospecting, we can then get 
 pinole, dried beef, and cassava bread from Jocon, by 
 sending bac4c one of the mounted Indians. To risk 
 losing the animals might mean our death by starva 
 tion; no white man could carry supplies up this ridge 
 it is the very worst I ever climbed." 
 
 For an hour more with pallid brows and panting 
 breaths the group struggled on. Then Baxter, in 
 advance, turned and swung his hat in triumph as he 
 reached a rocky knoll, beyond which the dark cedar 
 tops marked the descent toward the mysterious Valley 
 of the Margalile. 
 
 "By Heavens, it corresponds with the map of the 
 dead Spaniard ! " gasped Nixon, as he sprang off his 
 exhausted animal. 
 
 There was a thrilling silence! Their eyes followed 
 Baxter s pointing finger. Then their senses reeled at the 
 sheer descent below them to the south, where the 
 Mangalile, a shining silver thread, glittered in the last 
 rays of the sinking sun. 
 
 "While you look around a bit, I will examine this 
 cedar clump for water. We ll have to camp here
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 2OI 
 
 sure, " doggedly said "Tough " Baxter, as he dispatched 
 his " sea-cook " to reconnoitre all the approaches to 
 the ridge. 
 
 It was an anxious group that stood around Nixon, 
 whose fingers trembled as he drew out the copy 
 of the old tracing made by the doomed Francisco 
 Aguilar de Romero. With a pocket compass he oriented 
 the sheet, and then solemnly said: " There is a great 
 point like unto the nose of a man." 
 
 Their eyes explored the blue chasm below, where 
 the great rock ledge ran due northeast. 
 
 " I see the point ! " cried Abercromby. 
 
 Lorimer was already exploring its face with his sig 
 nal glass. It was a thrilling moment. 
 
 Crawling on his hands and knees out to the edge 
 of the cliff, Abercromby gazed down into the gorge of 
 the Mangalile. A shout of triumph from Lorimer at 
 last made the blood bound in the hearts of his two 
 companions. " There is a cave or arched hole down 
 there near the point where the river turns." 
 
 Standing together, where the dark shadows began 
 to veil the distant winding of the enormous canon, the 
 three friends were forced to cling to the wind-swept 
 ridge summit. 
 
 " It is the very place," they murmured, as Baxter 
 returned. 
 
 " Let us get down into the little pocket here," cried 
 the frontiersman. " Our animals are now nearly done 
 for; we must make camp for the night." 
 
 Seated around the gleaming fire, when the bivouac 
 sepast was finished, over their pipes, the Americans 
 discussed the descent. 
 
 "There s but one way, " said the sturdy Baxter. 
 "We ll leave the cook and one Indian on guard here, 
 the other can go with us as messenger. Taking our 
 lariats, and putting our outfit in the raw-hide ore 
 bags, we can take four or five days supplies. Our men 
 here can guard the rest. We can make fire signals. 
 I ll arrange that. The two soldiers must also remain 
 until we send word back. If we find there s no way to 
 get the animals down, then the soldiers can escort all 
 back to Jocon and wait for us there, for I think we can
 
 2O2 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 get around the headlands and follow the little river 
 to Jocon. It looks practicable from here." 
 
 "But, can we get down ourselves?" said Aber- 
 cromby, whose view of the awful gorge below had 
 almost shaken his nerve. 
 
 " Oh yes," calmly said Baxter, "I took a look of 
 the hillside a bit; with the lariats, and letting the packs 
 slide before us now and then, I reckon we can make 
 the trip. But its a devil s own jumping-off place. It 
 beats the Arcata trail out in California, where the 
 government mules commit suicide in disgust." 
 
 "Our guns, " anxiously said Nixon, still fearful of 
 their haunting enemies. 
 
 "Take em," replied the guide, "and if we have to 
 abandon them we can hide them in the cliffs. The 
 Indian can get them to us later; these fellows climb 
 like goats. Our revolvers and knives are enough to 
 protect us." 
 
 " Then let us all turn in ! " suggested Nixon, " for 
 we will make a break for the river bed the very 
 moment it is daylight." 
 
 The mountain eagles Were soaring in the glittering 
 sunbeams when Baxter reported all ready for the 
 descent next morning. He had thoroughly swept the 
 hillsides with the glass, and found the well-marked path 
 of the larger wild animals, driven in summer to seek 
 the shade of the thickets in the river bottom below. 
 
 The rude packs were soon adjusted, and the five 
 men were ready to begin the toilsome descent. The 
 last orders were hastily given to the detachment 
 remaining in camp, under command of Baxter s chum. 
 
 "You can bet on me to the last gasp, gentlemen," 
 the "sea-cook" said stoutly. "I will make the 
 signals agreed on, and I will also keep a smoke rising 
 from the top of the highest knoll here to let you know 
 that all is well." 
 
 Baxter called back, good humoredly, "keep an eye 
 on those mules, too; I should not care to walk back to 
 Truxillo." 
 
 "You ll find me with em" were the last words 
 heard, as the eager explorers plunged down the slip 
 pery hillside, bending under their packs.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 203 
 
 It was a journey beyond all para lel To gr back 
 was impossible. 
 
 In half an hour after commencing the perilous 
 descent, the desperate nature of the quest made 
 itself but too apparent. They gazed in despair 
 at one another when, with hands bruised and 
 bleeding, they lay resting on a narrow rocky 
 ledge. Even the indomitable Baxter groaned This 
 is the very roughest deal I ever struck. " 
 
 To avoid gazing into the fearful gorge below, they 
 kept their eyes fixed on the walls to which they clun fe 
 like flies, gazing along the shelving ledges, where even 
 the panthers had turned back. With slung rifles, and 
 aided by pointed stakes, trimmed by Baxter s trusty 
 Bowie knife, they faltered along, clinging with hands 
 and feet where a single loose rock or crumbling stone 
 meant instant and horrible destruction. Lowering 
 their packs in advance, they threaded the narrow ledges 
 of slippery rock, forcing their eyes to gaze always before 
 them, but never down, until seven hours from their 
 setting forth, they bathed their heated faces in the 
 crystal waters of the mystic Mangalile. 
 
 They lay exhausted by the river for half an hour in 
 a gloomy silence. 
 
 The bed of the stream was obstructed with giant 
 boulders. Taking up at last their march toward the 
 great bend, they painfully scrambled over the rock and 
 waded through the water toward the Devil s Nose. 
 
 Suddenly, Baxter in the lead, halted, and threw up 
 his hands in a signal of amity. The others started in 
 wonder, as a frightened troop of a dozen naked Indians 
 stood in the way, excitedly barring their advance. 
 The unexpected appearance of white men in this moun 
 tain-walled river valley, filled the children of the forest 
 with wonder, and Baxter s cry of " Amigos, Amigos ! " 
 but faintly reassured them. 
 
 Long slender fish spears, tipped with barbed flint, 
 with bows and arrows of a rude make, were their only 
 weapons. 
 
 The magical effect of a judicious sampling of Bax 
 ter s canteen finally induced the reassured natives to 
 become the porters of the now irksome packs.
 
 204 H1S CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 The afternoon shadows were stealing down and 
 throwing strange figures of giant, grotesque outline on 
 the still sunlit walls of the farther chasm when the five 
 exhausted cliff sealers threw themselves down on the 
 river drift at the foot of the Devil s Nose. 
 
 A moment after Baxter dragged his weary bones 
 around the point and, returning, cried, " Sure enough, 
 this old pot hole here runs out under the point on the 
 other side, but I can t see daylight through the tunnel." 
 
 Five minutes later, the Indians crawling out, torch 
 in hand, reported that the middle of the old subteranean 
 causeway was choked with a tangle of logs and river 
 debris, caught on a great black stone ledge. 
 
 Then, as the three frieuds lay resting their aching 
 bones, their eyes wandered back to the beetling crags 
 of Los Disparamades above them, saw the blue smoke 
 curling up from the knoll, telling them that all was 
 still well on the ridge. 
 
 " While you gentlemen are now taking a bit of a 
 rest, I ll prospect the canon below, a bit," said the ex- 
 rebel, " for I want to find out from these natives, while 
 we have our hands on em, the easiest way back to 
 Jocon. I know that we could never get up those cliffs 
 again, and I beg you to guard our canteens care 
 fully, for rum is the only thing t > keep these Indians 
 near us. When it gives out they will be off like a shot. 
 Rum and tobacco are the only hire that they will work 
 for." 
 
 The Indian attendant had already built a fire and 
 was busied with his coffee boiling as the three friends 
 peered into the darkened opening of the cave, wherein 
 the Witch of Mangalile held her phantom court. The 
 two entrances, the black ledge of rock, all confirmed 
 the old tale. But, the emeralds! Ah, the emeralds! 
 
 Nixon broke the silence, as he rose from his knees. 
 "The moment has come," he said, "to take Baxter 
 into at least our partial confidence. Time is golden. 
 To clear this tunnel we must avail ourselves of the help 
 of these natives. This must be done before our own 
 slender stores of rations are exhausted, for, buried in 
 this frightful gorge here, our very existence is at stake. " 
 
 There was no dissenting word, and the immediate
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 205 
 
 exploration of the cavern was decided. The guide 
 was loudly called. 
 
 "So you wish to explore the old ghost hole, . 
 laughed the ex-guerrilla when he listened to the strange 
 tale. "All right!" With ready wit, he explained 
 his wishes to the natives, with much indicated 
 promise of the magic fire-water, and a sparing prelim 
 inary distribution of tobacco. 
 
 "We are safe now," he cheerfully added, as 
 the excited natives divided at once into two 
 parties, and entered like foxes the archways of 
 the cavern. * Lightly scorning Baxter s offer of 
 candles, the forest children, returning with withes of 
 twisted fiber plucked from the forest groves, deftly lit 
 them from fire produced by knocking together pieces 
 of vitrious quartz. 
 
 "While you select a good sheltered place for our 
 camp, I will have a look inside," remarked the indefat 
 igable scout. 
 
 The friends were all busy with their bivouac labors, 
 when Baxter joined them, laughing, "It s easy enough 
 to read the riddle of the haunted cave," he said, as he 
 took a pull at the flask. " The sides of the tunnel are 
 smoked with many camp flres at both ends. There 
 is also debris of the packages in which salt, tobacco, 
 and rum, are usually handled in Honduras. The place 
 has certainly been used as a smuggler s haunt for 
 years. We are not for from the Guatemala line here. 
 
 " But how can any practicable use be made of it; how 
 do they get down here?" asked Nixon incredulously. 
 
 "Ah!" replied Baxter, smiling, "easy enough. 
 There is a practicable ravine about five miles up stream, 
 so the Indians tell me, and a good trail leading over to 
 Jocon, a dozen miles below here. That is the way we 
 must go back. Now, if we only stand guard 
 over our rum, the natives will clear the tunnel 
 by daylight; then, you can examine it as you 
 wish. One of them speaks a little Spanish, and he has 
 agreed to pilot us back to Jocon, by the ravine, and 
 have all the men of his strange brood carry to a point 
 on the trail near the town our heavy goods. We are 
 to repay them with as much rum as they can pack."
 
 206 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 "Good enough," cried Lorimer, his spirits rising; 
 "we will fill them up, inside and outside. All well at 
 odr camp," he gayly concluded, as he dropped his 
 field-glass. " The smoke column is still curling up on 
 the knoll by the cedars." 
 
 Baxter and the Indian soon produced a hearty meal 
 from the contents of the pack, while the three friends 
 filled a sheltering cleft of the rocks with drifted wood. 
 This was soon covered with moss and elastic leaves, 
 heaped up by the willing savage women. "Behold 
 our beds," laughed Abercromby. 
 
 "We will have deer at daylight for breakfast," said 
 Baxter. "Our Indian friends are mighty hunters, and 
 they haunt the runs where the bucks come down to 
 drink." 
 
 All through the long night one of the four white men, 
 rifle in hand, patrolled the river bank between the two 
 openings of the tunnel, while the brown-skinned natives 
 hopefully toiled away, with the rum of Jocon in their 
 mind s eye. 
 
 Divided into watches of three hours, the resting 
 time of nature slipped away, until the river glen was 
 vocal again with the bird and beast chorus of daylight. 
 
 Strange dreams had haunted the rude pillows of the 
 wanderers to the Mangalile, and yet right cheerfully 
 did the young men bound up to begin the examination 
 of the tunnel. 
 
 "So far all is going well," remarked Baxter, as he 
 marshaled the steaming viands and the fragrant 
 coffee. "The tunnel is perfectly clear now from end 
 to end. There s a big fat buck hanging by his heels 
 down by the stream and I see our signal smoke 
 above ! " 
 
 In half an hour breakfast was finished, and with 
 brawny arms bared the excited party was at work. 
 
 The first examination brought disappointment. 
 
 There had been a deposit of g ravel left by the suc 
 cessive floods of ages in the tunnel. It would take at 
 least a day s strong digging to get down to the old 
 level of the floor as indicated by the mouths of the 
 passage. 
 
 It was hastily decided to dig a trench about thirty
 
 HiS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 2c>7 
 
 feet long, following the axis of the tunnel midway 
 between the two entrances. This would surely strike 
 anything that would answer the description of the 
 Spanish buccaneer s rocky cache. 
 
 Four short cornish picks and picket shovels were 
 soon at work, where the Americans knelt under the 
 down-sloping roof of the center of the tunnel. The 
 Indian children held the flaming fiber torches near, the 
 men in the rear rolled out the loose cobbles, while 
 the women carried out all the loosened earth in rude 
 baskets, hastily plaited. 
 
 It was a singular scene ; the swarthy, naked natives 
 and the nervous, energetic whites toiling away; the 
 resounding thud of the picks, the hollow scraping of 
 the shovels, was the only sound heard. On guard 
 with ready rifle and revolver, the native muleteer 
 scanned the approaches of the stream, above and 
 below the Devil s Nose. 
 
 The day passed quietly in fevered digging, and the 
 great flaming sun darts filled the canon, as the half- 
 disheartened men gathered around the camp fire to eat 
 of Honduras venison and reinforce their energies with 
 the magic rum. 
 
 " It seems to get harder than flint as we go down," 
 doggedly said Abercromby, filling his pipe, and 
 stretching his stiffened frame. 
 
 " I fear that the concrete we are drifting in has never 
 before been disturbed by man," cried the impulsive 
 Nixon. 
 
 "Now, young men, quit talking and go to work," 
 cut in Baxter, sententiously. 
 
 The natives had kept up their digging without an 
 instant s cessation. 
 
 "There is one thing I don t like about this whole 
 situation," said Lorimer, in a brief resting spell from 
 pick and shovel. "How did the party of the wander 
 ing Aguilar Romero ever get here, when the trails all 
 lead over the mountains ? It seems incredible." 
 
 "Easy enough! " answered the sharp-witted Baxter. 
 " The old buccaneers always traveled the ravines and 
 valleys, as being the easiest and safest about here; and 
 the water-run ways guided them to the sea on either
 
 208 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 side. The Indians, light-footed as deer, always laid 
 out their trails to cross the highest points, so as to 
 descry the coming of their heavily armed Spanish 
 enemies. It is so on the plains, and in Arizona, as well 
 as Mexico, where the natives always use these highest 
 points for their rallying places, and to light their signal 
 fires." 
 
 "It does not seem as if any one ever had floated 
 down this little stream," doubtfully remarked Aber- 
 cromby. 
 
 "Don t it? Look at the brushwood piled twenty 
 feet high on the banks," replied the ex-rebel scout. 
 " In the rainy season a good-sized- vessel could easily 
 pass from here to Truxillo, and remember, too, that 
 the buccaneers only lashed logs together and went down 
 these streams." 
 
 "Let us tackle the concrete again," urged Lorimer, 
 whose face bore marks of the flame of his internal 
 excitement. 
 
 So they worked on until, late at night, Baxter forced 
 the young men unwillingly to their rest. 
 
 "See here, gentlemen," he said, " Your hands are 
 beginning to swell, and you will all be stiff to-morrow. 
 Rest easy, and turn in. I ll guard the camp with our 
 man, and these Aztecs in double shifts will keep up a 
 steady lick all this night; I ll give them a good round 
 of spiritual refreshment at midnight. 
 
 The supper was dispatched in the silence of intense 
 fatigue. 
 
 As they turned in Nixon put his head out of his 
 blankets to ask the watchful Baxter if the summit sig 
 nal was all right. 
 
 " There was a faint smoke line at sunset, it was just 
 visible, but, it was there!" answered the volunteer 
 guard. 
 
 The second night of the bivouac passessed in peace; 
 only the uncouth wallowing of a tapir had disturbed 
 the sleepers when Baxter roused them. 
 
 "Let us all go into the tunnel," he said. "The 
 Indians have found a line of flat stones, near one of the 
 walls, and directly in the middle arch of the cavern." 
 
 There was a rush for the entrance.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 2Og 
 
 Dashing into the gloomy hole, the three friends 
 were soon on their hands and knees, besides the tired 
 Indians, who muttered in strange fear, as they sought 
 to dislodge the closely cemented drift. There was a 
 line of stones in rough order plainly visible, although 
 the work of hours would be needed to clear even one 
 them ; the central trench being too far distant from 
 the side wall. 
 
 "If we had only blasting powder or dynamite," 
 cried Lorimer, his pale face now beaded with the sweat 
 of excitement. 
 
 " That would bring down the roof on us," promptly 
 answered Baxter. "Now, let us have our break 
 fast, while we put the whole force of Indians at cutting 
 the overhanging bank off this line of stones." 
 
 Then the scout reassured the timid and shrinking 
 natives. 
 
 " What is the matter with them ? " demanded Lori 
 mer. 
 
 " They fear this is the Devil s grave, and the spirits, 
 loosed from rest, will carry them off," chuckled the 
 guide. "After our coffee we will come back and 
 urge them to their work. They want us to stand by 
 and protect them." 
 
 It was just after the coffee had gladdened their nos 
 trils that Baxter suddenly dropped his pannikin. 
 "Give me the field glass," he said in an agitated 
 voice. 
 
 "What is the matter ? " cried the three men, spring 
 ing up. 
 
 "By the etarnel ! There s no fire signal on the 
 mountain ! " slowly answered Baxter, as he handed 
 the telescope back to Nixon. 
 
 One after another they swept the lines of the knoll 
 towering far above them. Not a single blue wreath 
 curled around the cedar clumps. The gloomy silence 
 was broken by Baxter. 
 
 "There is something wrong up there," he coldly 
 said, " I don t like it a bit. You remember the cook s 
 words, You can bet on me to the last gasp. Some 
 one has cleaned up our camp; most likely the cussed 
 horse thieves."
 
 210 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 " What shall we do ? " was the inquiring chorus. 
 
 "Do," scornfully echoed the scout. "First, I ll 
 send the remaining Truxillo Indian by the river ravine 
 to sneak up there and find out what s the matter; next, 
 we must get the stuff out of that Devil s Lock Box of 
 yours as quick as we can. Then, we can barricade 
 this tunnel and fix ourselves for a bit of a fight." 
 
 "Ah," growled Lorimer, "I see it now, we have 
 been followed by some one, every step from New York. " 
 
 "Yes, and by heavens, they shan t take the last 
 trick here without a fight!" said Nixon, in a rage, as he 
 sprang up. 
 
 " Let me first dispatch the Indian," said the man of 
 war. This was done in two minutes. 
 
 "The man will surely get back here before mid 
 night, " remarked Baxter. "I ve given him his cue, 
 and told him he would not need to work for a year if 
 he is faithful. You three men get all your arms 
 and ammunition within the cave and keep up the work. 
 Send all the spare Indians out to me. I ll soon fortify 
 the entrances." 
 
 In a half hour, acting under his directions, the up 
 stream mouth of the tunnel was filled with loosely 
 piled boulders, over which were thrown the logs 
 removed from the tunnel. A tangle of bushes and 
 vines concealed the artful mask. 
 
 "There," said Baxter, as he crawled up to where 
 the friends were nervously working away like madmen, 
 " I have my people all busy throwing up a breastwork 
 at the down stream end, with only a flank opening and 
 a loop-holed barrier behind. We can stop the opening 
 easily." 
 
 " How ? " cried the excited Nixon. 
 
 "With dead men ! " chuckled the scout. Then he 
 continued seriously: "We have plenty of water near, 
 and all our traps and grub inside. I ve had the camp 
 fires all covered with fresh gravel. The squaws and 
 kids after bringing all the gourds filled with water for 
 us, will sleep around in the trees to-night and give ui 
 warning if any one comes." 
 
 " Do you think the attack will hold off till then ? 
 asked the Americans.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 21 I 
 
 "They are not darn fools enough to tackle us in 
 daylight, when we can see to shoot," scornfully ejacu 
 lated Baxter. " Now go ahead with the work, gentle 
 men, I ve got all the rifles handy here. A couple of 
 the Indians up and down the stream will let us know if 
 the enemy approach." 
 
 " Our messenger how will he return in safety?" 
 demanded Nixon, while his friends pried away at a 
 flat covering stone, which seemed to loosen at last. 
 
 11 I ve told him to crawl down the bank opposite and 
 give the jaguar cry three times in succession, which I 
 will then answer," answered Baxter, inspecting his 
 rifle carefully. 
 
 There was not a useless word spoken for an hour, as 
 the laborers in the grimy recesses of the tunnel effected 
 the dislodging of one of the row of gray flat stones, 
 fastened together by a cemented matrix harder than 
 the rocks themselves. Disappointment was upon them, 
 as Nixon thrust his hand into a soft gray mud oozing 
 with infiltrated water. "Here," he cried hoarsely, 
 " Give me a knife." He thrust his heavy blade down, 
 then plunged his hand again into the orifice. It came 
 back covered with loosened hairs, the decayed frag 
 ments of what had been the upper layer of a rawhide 
 bag. 
 
 "Pass me a calabash," he commanded, sharply, and 
 half filled it with the mixed material of the rough 
 coffer. "There are some good-sized, rounded lumps, 
 looking like dirty green marbles in there!" Doctor 
 Jim said, still on his knees the others gathered 
 anxiously round. "Are these pebbles or are they ?" 
 
 "Give me the gourd!" cried Lorimer, and before 
 his friends could stop him, he had run down the bank 
 to the silver stream of the Mangalile. Here, careless 
 of lurking foes, the excited lawyer quickly panned out 
 the gray silt, until only a dozen heavy, rounded, crusty 
 pebbles, with dull green edges, remained in the red 
 interior of the calabash. Holding them up to the 
 light, one after another, the elated adventurer uttered 
 a shout, which brought his friends in angry remon 
 strance to his side. "They look like the rough 
 emeralds I saw in New York. They have a dull
 
 212 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 green color. I swear, I believe we have found the 
 lost treasure," he cried in triumph. 
 
 The watchful Baxter warned them back, as Nixon 
 and Abercromby also verified the discovery of Inez 
 Romero s lover. 
 
 Crouched in a sunny angle near the primitive fortifi 
 cation, Doctor Nixon applied the file, and found the 
 stones all proof against the gnawing edge. "Back 
 now," he said, "and clear out the coffer. If we find 
 the remains of the four bags Aguilar spoke of, it is an 
 added proof." 
 
 "Back to cover!" growled Baxter. "Clear the 
 whole thing out and be ready to make a break, if need 
 be. Our legs must take us back to Jocon if these 
 horse thieves have really raided the camp." 
 
 "To work!" cried Nixon. Then the triumphant 
 band returned to scoop out, with knife and tin cup, 
 the whole interior of the irregular opening. 
 
 But it was hours before the last of the precious peb 
 bly mass was deposited in the rawhide ore bags, which 
 formed a part of the Indians pack. 
 
 "Now," said Nixon, as he held up a candle so as to 
 illuminate the irregular box-like cavity, "there is 
 nothing left here. Whatever there is, we have it!" 
 
 "It is the old treasure, I verily believe," said Lori- 
 mer, as he pointed to the rude wicker basket where 
 lay the fragments of the decayed sacks, which came 
 out in shattered strips under the digging work of the 
 machete. "The buccaneer s story has been verified 
 in every detail. The loose mud must have been infil 
 trated from the oozy floods! " 
 
 All was silent without, save the rippling river, gurg 
 ling over its shingly bed, and the wail of the night birds. 
 
 "Dare we light a fire now for our coffee ? " asked 
 Abercromby, as their work was achieved. 
 
 "One of you come out and stand guard with me," 
 answered the scout, "and I ll warm the pot over. I 
 have a cold supper here that the squaws cooked for us 
 back in the woods." 
 
 "What are your plans for the night, Baxter?" 
 earnestly demanded the exhausted Nixon. 
 
 " Oh, my strategy is all ready; I will post all the
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 213 
 
 women and children on the banks, and also let some 
 of the men lie out, with orders to watch. We can 
 sleep here behind our breastwork in readiness. No 
 one s going to get past those Indians unnoticed. I will 
 lie nearest the open passage and be responsible for 
 bringing in our messenger, if he ever returns." 
 
 These suggestions were listened to with a courage 
 born of a new danger. 
 
 There was no sleep in the gloomy hole where the 
 excited adventurers lay huddled together for warmth, 
 and the hours glided by in low murmured converse, as 
 to the anxious morrow. 
 
 "There s but one thing left to do," sententiously 
 said Baxter, "and that is to get back to Jocon, 
 though we are not safe till we reach Arinal. From 
 there one forced march will bring us up to the summit. 
 Ha! listen!" and all their hearts beat wildly, as the 
 jaguar s shrill cry sounded out three times across the 
 river. The scout answered. 
 
 A moment later a man was hastily drawn within the 
 barricade. 
 
 "Speak!" muttered Baxter. 
 
 "Ah," groaned the returned muleteer. "All 
 gone, Todos muerfos\" and he fell forward at the feet 
 of his questioner. 
 
 " Then we are left helpless, betrayed cut off in 
 this lonely forest," groaned Lorimer. "And our 
 recovered deposit ?" 
 
 " Must be saved!" 
 
 "Look out!" muttered Nixon, shoving his Win 
 chester out of its ready loophole. For an Aztec now 
 glided in, whispering, " Ladrones robbers many 
 coming round the point." 
 
 "Rifles first," commanded Baxter. " Have your 
 pistols ready, too. Wait till they crowd around in a 
 huddle to get in. They have surely tracked our mes 
 senger. Fire low when I give the word ; then pour it in 
 as long as you can see a moving man. Curse em!" 
 
 The scout dropped a couple of leaning logs into the 
 manhole at the angle of the curtain ; then, with finger 
 on trigg. r, the four whites stood " at a ready." 
 
 In the glimmer of the starlight nothing could be seen
 
 214 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 as yet, but the shuffling of many feet was heard on the 
 loose gravel of the river bank. 
 
 The ex-guerrilla was on his knees and peering out 
 of his loophole. 
 
 He straightened up and shoved his rifle forward, as 
 the loose wall without was rudely shaken by the rush 
 of men. "Now!" he whispered. Then the flashes 
 leaped forth from the awakened Winchesters, and yells 
 and screams sounded widely on the night air. 
 
 "Hold," he shouted at last. A few heavy groans 
 outside answered him. " I reckon they ll let us rest in 
 peace for the rest of the night," he quietly added. A 
 moment after the opening of the tunnel was lit up with 
 flambeaux waved by the friendly savages of the Man- 
 galile. The friends followed Baxter s lead, to where 
 he stood gazing at three ugly looking Mestizos, lying 
 prone in the spread eagle agonies of a sudden death. 
 Armed with their sharp fish lances, their watchful 
 allies viciously prodded the dead assaflants to verify 
 their helplessness. 
 
 "Who are they ? " demanded Baxter. 
 
 "Guatemalans, bad men!" simply answered the 
 leader of the river Indians, spurning the body of a 
 dead robber. 
 
 " Is no one of us hurt ?" called out the scout. 
 
 It was then that their returned messenger dragged 
 himself out of the tunnel. 
 
 " Tell us of the camp," eagerly said Baxter. 
 
 The Indian shuddered as he spoke : " Your own 
 man lies there with my poor compadre, shot to death, 
 and already half eaten by the mountain wolves. The 
 hobbled mules, all with their throats cut are scattered 
 near by as they were killed, one by one." 
 
 " The two soldiers ? " hastily questioned Nixon. 
 
 "Gone! not a sign. The cowards ran away, per 
 haps, was the answer. 
 
 " And all our camp property ? " was Baxter s last 
 query. 
 
 " They had dragged the things down, and pitched all 
 off the cliff ; I saw a saddle caught on a tree half way 
 down the first bluff. They carried nothing away. " 
 
 "Now, this beats hell," philosophically remarked
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 215 
 
 the rebel veteran. "You men seem to have a deadly 
 foe treading on your path day and night. Their little 
 game was the same right here, to sneak in and butcher 
 us all while asleep. These fellows luckily only fired 
 one shot ; they were confused about the other blocked 
 tunnel entrance in the dark, and were groping around 
 for us. They did not fancy that we were ready 
 for em, on the inside." 
 
 "And now " said Nixon. 
 
 "There s but one course," replied Baxter, as he 
 emerged from the tunnel, after rewarding his faithful 
 outlaying spies and giving the exhausted messenger a 
 good dram. 
 
 "Get rid of every pound extra weight. Give all 
 our useless property to our strange friends; then 
 let us strike for Jocon by daylight These 
 nimble woodsmen will scout all the banks as we go 
 along. We must, at every risk, get into the village 
 to-morrow night. In a band, we will then demand the 
 alcalde to send a swif t runner down to Arinal for mules. 
 We will stay in his house till they come, kinder keep 
 ing him a hostage. With mules we can get safely over 
 to Arinal in a couple of days. Then, a dash for the 
 sea coast, and you and your treasures are safe." 
 
 " Then back to Paris," exultingly cried Lorimer. 
 " With the hard won legacy of Fernando Aguilar de 
 Romero," gravely said Nixon, "and, may God rest 
 his soul." 
 
 "This has been a lively old night," ener 
 getically remarked Generalissimo Baxter, as he lit his 
 pipe, and sat down with his rifle across his knees. 
 " But we are safe now. These wild natives are as 
 good as any outlying picket." 
 
 It was so. All that night the Indian braves watched 
 and scouted, while their frightened women and chil 
 dren huddled round the camp fires, save when they 
 gave a contemptuous kick to one or the other of the 
 three dead robbers, who lay cold and stark by the river 
 bank.
 
 2l6 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 "IT is THE PADRE! " 
 
 THERE was little sleep in the cavern, where the half- 
 dozen sacks lay, still open, filled with the mass of mud 
 and green pebbles, scraped out of the hole where it 
 had lain for two hundred years. The sudden attack 
 had interrupted all mineralogical tests of the hidden 
 treasure so strangely recovered. 
 
 The indefatigable Baxter had now completed his 
 dispositions for the night. "Shall we revisit our old 
 camp on the mountains? " anxiously inquired Nixon. 
 
 This is now a case of life or death," sharply an 
 swered the frontiersman. " There is nothing on the hill 
 but the bones of our two poor followers. Now you three 
 men have surely got the thing you came down here for 
 slush or uncut jewels! Your half-dozen sacks and our 
 arms are the only things we dare not abandon. Take 
 what sleep and rest you can; I ll rouse you all at 
 three o clock. Let us make all ready; what we don t 
 take we will give to the tribe. The men, only, go with 
 us. It s a race, perhaps for life itself, to Jocon ; there 
 we will take what there is in town and push hard on to 
 Arinal; the villagers will be only to glad to get us out 
 of Jocon and off their hands. We must make a forced 
 march and thus avoid a peck of trouble later, perhaps, 
 about killing these dirty Guatemalans, . Perhaps we 
 may have to fight our way. Who the h 11 is on your 
 track, man or devil? I give it up." He glared around 
 for an answer. 
 
 " Both," gloomily answered Nixon; for the unseen 
 hand which has struck down poor Felipe Romero seemed 
 to be still clutching at the recovered emeralds. 
 
 "You are right, Baxter; we will be ready," said 
 Lorimer. 
 
 " It s a case of save our bacon now," growled Aber- 
 cromby.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 217 
 
 So, side by side, the pilgrims of love lay and waited 
 for Baxter s call. 
 
 It seemed as if the adventurers had only closed their 
 eyes when the iron sinewed Southerner aroused them. 
 
 " Here you are, all ready for the road," he cheerily 
 said. The Indians have our breakfast cooked, and the 
 packs are all made up. I ve left the ammunition belts 
 and guns for ourselves. The sacks are sewed up, and 
 slings made. If we are officially questioned, we can 
 simply say that we have some ore samples. In half an 
 hour more we can start." 
 
 " Baxter, you are a jewel," cried Nixon. 
 
 With strangely moved hearts, the three men turned 
 away from the dark cavern forever, as the guide started 
 his Indian bearers on in advance. 
 
 They lingered a moment by the fire to give a few 
 gold pieces to the faithful squaws who had served 
 them so well. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen, you have recovered your hidden 
 deposit it is to the sea for our own lives, and no 
 fooling on the way," urged the ex-Confederate. He 
 shouldered his rifle, and plunged down the bank. 
 
 With a last look of the awful gorge rising to 
 where -their murdered servant s bones lay under the 
 mountain cedars, they moved away, anxious to get out 
 of the dark and threatening canon. 
 
 They straggled down the sandy reaches of the widen 
 ing river, and the daylight came faintly in upon them. 
 In Indian file, they moved along freely. 
 
 "No danger yet," pithily said Baxter. "Our trail 
 cannot be followed until it is broad daylight, and the 
 prowlers have had a severe lesson. No one down here 
 likes the Gringos at bay. Our real trouble will be be 
 tween Jocon and Arinal. " 
 
 Three hours after leaving the "Witch s Haunt" the 
 party halted at the opening of a practical canon, 
 where the Jocon creek purled down from the moun 
 tains. Baxter eyed the "tender-foot" Americans 
 anxiously. 
 
 " A half hour s rest, coffee, a bite, and the Indian 
 boys will rub your legs limber for you in a jiffy," he 
 remarked.
 
 3l8 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Then he posted four of the Indians as outlying pick 
 ets, and smiled as the party gradually recovered the 
 use of their muscles and got under way. Along the 
 shortening trail to Jocon, the chances of safety in 
 creased every hour. A couple of lithe Indian boys ran 
 in advance, scanning with lynx eyes, the beautiful for 
 est, now lit up with the high morning sun. 
 
 "We shall make it well before sunset! " were Bax 
 ter s cheering words. 
 
 The prospect of safety, and the shelter even of the 
 poor hamlet of Jocon nerved every limb. At last the 
 rising smoke of Jocon was seen in the waning afternoon. 
 
 The Indians then stopped and began to chatter in 
 their strange jargon to the guide. 
 
 "What is the matter?" anxiously asked the Ameri 
 cans. 
 
 "They are afraid of being kept as peons, and will 
 not go nearer the town." 
 
 We can never get the heavy. burdens into the village 
 alone," muttered Nixon, moodily. 
 
 "I ll pick out a good place for you to make a stand ; 
 then I ll take our own man and go on into the village. 
 Give me some of your doubloons. I ll get a few mules 
 back here, loaded with some of that rum, which has 
 been our blessing here," suggested the wise one they 
 called Baxter. 
 
 " That s true," Lorimer assented. " We could not 
 have kept guard and cleared that tunnel in a week 
 without these docile forest wanderers." 
 
 " And we would have been starved out, or perhaps 
 butchered at our work," said Nixon, as he handed 
 over a dozen doubloons. " Don t spare the rum," he 
 laughed, good-humoredly. 
 
 "Oh, I ll give them enough for a month s love 
 feast." Baxter then disappeared with a cautionary 
 " keep a sharp look out." 
 
 The friends waited till hope deferred made the heart 
 sick. They dared not light a fire for fear of an ambus 
 cade. But the last of the rum and the faithful pipes 
 aglow steeled them to waiting the event. 
 
 The clatter of hoofs brought them all to their 
 feet as the guide dashed up. "I made a ten
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 strike," he cried gayly, springing off a fine 
 mule. " I found by good luck a Truxillo muleteer 
 returning from Teguciguepa with a sarsaparilla pack 
 train. I have ten of these mules already engaged. 
 They will be all here for you in ten minutes. I 
 brought along four five-gallon skins of rum and a box 
 of tobacco for these faithful dark friends. Decent 
 quarters with good rawhide beds await you now at 
 Jocon. I have frightened the poor alcalde already half 
 out of his wits. He will be glad to see us move out." 
 
 A ringing hurrah answered the scout s welcome 
 address. Ten minutes later the dusky waifs of the 
 Mangalile glen were ready to plunge back again into 
 the friendly gloom of night. 
 
 Their welcome burdens of rum and baccy were quick 
 ly slung on poles, and presents of pocket knives and 
 small portable articles of the four whites made these 
 friends of adversity happy at heart. 
 
 "Get a move on before the alcalde catches you," 
 cried Baxter. 
 
 They took his hint, at a run, to gain again the invin 
 cible protection of the tractless glades of the lonely 
 river, their only safeguard against the oppression of 
 the civilized. 
 
 " Not one word must be let fall carelessly; be on 
 your guard every minute," commanded the Mentor as 
 they rode into Jocon. " I will do the talking for the 
 whole party." 
 
 It was in the alcalde s own house, surrounded by 
 his family, a sans gene band of squalid women and 
 frowzy children, that the four adventurers slept, with 
 the ore bags piled under their beds and their revolvers 
 all loosely strapped on. 
 
 The muleteer, who had so luckily missed the sad 
 fate of the surprised mountain camp party, droned the 
 night out with the mules in the patio, alternately rolling 
 papilitos, basking at the fire, or taking a siesta in his 
 serape among the fleas and pebbles in the courtyard. 
 
 Happy peon. His brown skin was unpunctured by 
 knife or pistol ball, and it had in it about all the rum 
 that he could force down his throat. The compensations 
 of fortune are strange.
 
 220 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 The next morning the party were halfway up the 
 great bold divide leading to the long ridge above 
 Arinal, on their homeward way before Baxter dared to 
 unfold his plans, while the new muleteers, out of ear 
 shot, " adjusted packs " on a friendly shelf. 
 
 " We will safely be on the summit at noon," he said 
 to the three New Yorkers. " From there we can see 
 the pass that we must cross to descend to Omoa Bay. 
 Now, to prevent any possible gossip of these strangers, 
 we will camp on this side of Arinal, in a glen 
 about five miles from the town. Then at dawn we will 
 push right on, avoiding the place by a detour. By to 
 morrow night we will camp on the ridge, where we can 
 see the blue Bay of Belize and the Beauregard at 
 anchor, sixty miles beyond." 
 
 " Will the men turn off as you wish? " said Lorimer. 
 
 "They won t know until we are twelve miles beyond 
 Arinal, and then this talks." He tapped his revolver 
 and laughed. " Ready money will do the needful later, 
 in the way of apologies." 
 
 It was with a feeling akin to triumph that the re 
 turning prospectors found themselves at sunset wind 
 ing the tri-fold ridge leading to the outskirts of Arinal. 
 The huge Aguan river crawled along like a blue snake, two 
 thousand feet below, past sandy wastes and burning, 
 yellow logwood groves; another dimly seen valley, 
 sweeping from Yoro onwards to far Olanchito, was 
 blocked out in green tangles of impassible jungle. 
 
 The last rays of the setting sun burned fiercely on 
 the coppery cliffs of the huge range shutting off the 
 sea, in which a dim indentation indicated Cortez s pass, 
 where the mail-clad men of Spain had toiled along in 
 their search for gold, three hundred years before. 
 
 " This is our point of greatest danger," said Baxter, 
 as he posted the train in a washout valley a few rods 
 away from the Arinal trail. 
 
 All of that night, two of the returning Argonauts 
 watched the camp, rifle in hand. There was nothing 
 to break the dreamless sleep of the exhausted way 
 farers, and long before the dark-haired Senoras of 
 Arinal had sought the nearest spring for their morning 
 toilets, the little cavalcade had forded the Aguan, and
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 221 
 
 were miles beyond the reach of all the village bab 
 blers. 
 
 When at ten o clock Tough Baxter quietly rode up 
 to the head of the column where the road branched 
 toward the Omoa Pass, there was a trial of title to 
 the mules which led to a display of Castilian eloquence 
 by the scout, and the sudden withdrawal of his ready 
 revolver from its scabbard. For the chief muleteer 
 was strangely rebellious and evidently deeply chagrined 
 at the sudden change of route. 
 
 "You will be well paid for your loss of time. The 
 mules go to Omoa with us, and if you choose to walk 
 back to Truxillo by the Aguan road, you will find them 
 there, six days before you." Such was the guide s 
 energetic harangue. 
 
 The four men backing him up overawed the grumb 
 ling head muleteer. Despite his muttered carajos 
 the stout and well rested mules were pushed along 
 toward the Omoa pass. They jingled away over the 
 rising uplands to the winding trail leading along the 
 foothills into the mountain notch. 
 
 Busied with guarding the rear, and watching against 
 all possible pursuit and any further surprise, it was only 
 when they camped in the four mile pass leading through 
 the great Sierra overhanging Livingston, Puerta Cortez 
 and Omoa, that Baxter noticed the absence of one of 
 the muleteers. 
 
 "Were there not five of these chaps in the party ? 
 he asked, his voice trembling with excitement. 
 
 "Yes, yes," answered the three Americans. 
 
 "Then, one of them has surely slipped away from 
 us ; there are but four now. He sprang forward and 
 roused the dull looking strangers, who were cowering 
 around the fire. 
 
 " It s no use," grumbled the Southerner on his re 
 turn, " Liars by nature I could not even shoot the 
 truth out of them, if I tried. This fellow may bring 
 trouble on us. You see, we don t know if he has gone 
 ahead or not." 
 
 " You fear treachery," asked Nixon anxiously. 
 
 "Perhaps yes, perhaps no ! He has hurt his foot, 
 they say, " grumbled Baxter. It may be true ; these
 
 222 HIS CUHAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 fellows often fall out, and sometimes catch up a day 
 later ; the forests here are also full of mahogany cut 
 ting parties, and log-wood gatherers. The Belize Bay 
 slopes are hunted over for rare orchids and the treas 
 ured sarsaparilla, as well as the rare plumage bird. 
 Perhaps some little Indian hut here may hide this miss 
 ing fellow s humble sweetheart. But on a ticklish 
 trail, I want no one to leave the party." 
 
 With redoubled vigilance they alternated in guard 
 ing their camp until the dawn, when Baxter led them 
 on at a stiff trot, four miles past fearful chasms and 
 over beetling cliffs. 
 
 The clear salt air of the Caribbean drew through 
 the gap, and all then pressed eagerly forward, as their 
 wary leader, halting at a knoll in advance, waved his 
 hat and yelled, "The sea! the sea! " 
 
 By his side they soon stood in a delighted group, 
 and all shook hands in a vigorous congratulation, for, 
 spread out before them, like a sapphire lake, lay the 
 beautiful Bay of Belize. 
 
 Far in the distance, a dim low green line marked 
 British Honduras, stretched out across the silent gulf. 
 To the west, the splendidly broken mountain line of 
 Guatemala towered over the groves where Livingston s 
 white houses showed out, and a broad level savannah 
 filled the re-entrant of the southern curve, covered 
 with fragrant groves, rich with the cocoa, pine-apple, 
 banana, orange and lime. It was an enchanted scene 
 a dream picture of delight. 
 
 "We are all safe now!" joyously shouted Aber- 
 cromby. 
 
 " Purty near out of the woods, but not quite," 
 muttered the watchful scout. " Omoa and Puerta 
 Cortez lie just below us to the right. By noon I can 
 tell you if the .Beauregard\ t, in the Bay." 
 
 The elated Americans cried, "On, on," and chat 
 tered gaily as they rode down the glen. 
 
 No happier group surrounded Balboa on the peak of 
 Darien than that which clustered round Baxter in the 
 waning, sweltering tropic day, as he, with field-glass 
 to his eye, remarked, "I know the Beauregard* s rig. 
 There she is."
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 223 
 
 Two vessels were to be seen riding far below them 
 at anchor in the beautiful inlet of Omoa Bay. 
 
 The discontented muleteers were made joyful with 
 a ration of rum, and Nixon gaily cried, Ten pieces 
 extra a man, if we sleep on board to-morrow night," 
 and so all went well as they jogged merrily along. 
 
 Their last camp was a lively scene at sunset, when 
 they built their fire by a lagoon opening out into the 
 sluggish river flowing down to Omoa. 
 
 " There," said Baxter, " if we did not have to make 
 a circuit to get firm ground around this marsh, we 
 could reach Omoa in sixty minutes ; but, five hours 
 more to-morrow morning will put us on the sea 
 beach." 
 
 The hammocks bought at Jocon had just been 
 strung to the nearest trees, when a squad of mounted 
 men, led by an officer, rode up at a smart trot and 
 surrounded them. 
 
 The four Americans were ready to fire, but the 
 guide, recognizing the soldiers uniforms, cried out: 
 Amigos ! Atnigos ! Americanos ! 
 
 There was no time lost in parley, for the scowling 
 officer insisted upon an examination of their packs. 
 " Smugglers with tobacco were swarming around," he 
 vigorously insisted, and was very dubious as to any 
 belief in the story of the innocence of the alleged ore 
 samples. 
 
 With calm courtesy, Baxter soothed the haughty 
 lieutenant s national pride. The peace offering of rum 
 and cigaritos only partly mollified the soldier. 
 
 "Have you a permit to mine in Honduras?" he 
 abruptly demanded at last. "If not. I must take you 
 all in to Puerta Cortez, to the customs office! You can 
 remove nothing without certificate and examination." 
 
 Here the blood ran cold in the veins of the three 
 American adventurers anxiously listening. 
 
 The squad of soldiers, a dozen or more, armed with 
 repeating Spencers, stood "at a ready." Their sullen 
 faces indicated a readiness to pull the trigger. The 
 Americans own muleteers were calmly indifferent. 
 
 "Let me navigate this," whispered Baxter. "Get 
 out a few gold pieces,"
 
 224 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Then, with infinite tact, the rebel veteran contemp 
 tuously kicked the nearest sack. "Only a few speci 
 mens," he said, as he slashed the fastenings of one of 
 the ore bags with his bowie knife. 
 
 The lazy officer never stooped to examine further, 
 but quietly grasped the gold pieces slipped confiden 
 tially into his hand by El Seiior Baxter. A handful of 
 their last cigars and a bottle of rum completed the 
 officer s good-humored surrender to the " sweetening " 
 process. 
 
 "Fools," mused Honduras lieutenant, as he rode 
 away. "To come down here for a few worthless 
 stones." 
 
 But he left four happy men over their coffee boiling, 
 blithely talking of this last "narrow shave." 
 
 "I don t think that anything else can now happen," 
 growled Baxter, as they made all safe for the night. 
 " I will have our men get the animals ready at three 
 o clock, and have coffee boiled. Then we will push 
 on to Omoa as fast as the mules can trot." 
 
 "Are you sure that our own vessel is there?" 
 demanded Nixon, whose nerves were thrilling yet with 
 the possibility of arrest, detention, and perhaps the 
 confiscation of the supposed precious stones. 
 
 "Why, certainly, I would know her rig in a thous 
 and," replied Baxter. "The big three-master near 
 her looks something like that Cuban cattle schooner 
 that we left lying at Truxillo ; she may have come up 
 here for her load." 
 
 "The Matanzas schooner, "echoed the New Yorkers, 
 in a breath. 
 
 "Oh, they are a lazy Jot here," laughed Baxter. 
 " Besides they may have only got half a load down 
 at Truxillo, and then come up for the rest. Sometimes 
 they lie a month here trading for hides and animals. 
 There s no rent to pay on blue waters." 
 
 Then the rebel raider carefully gave out the order of 
 the guard, "Wake me at midnight," Nixon, he said, 
 I ll get the men out of hammock at two o clock." 
 
 The dusky shadows of night framed themselves into 
 strange figures, as Nixon paced his weary rounds, after 
 his comrades had turned in and all was quiet.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 22$ 
 
 The muleteers lay together, huddled around their 
 fires, and a gloomy silence soon possessed the malarial 
 swamp which fringed the lonely lagoon. 
 
 Once the American thought he saw a creeping some 
 thing moving around near his sleeping comrades. He 
 strode towards it. It seemed to fade unto the shadows 
 of the tropic forest. He listened. No sound came to 
 alert ears. " Pshaw," he mused. " The flicker of the 
 camp fire deceived me," as he returned from where his 
 three comrades lay. " I must be sure, however, and 
 wake Baxter in time." 
 
 Even as he thought, a strange and drowsy feeling 
 began to suddenly benumb his muscles. Yes," he 
 repeated, " I must wake wake Baxter." With these 
 words on his lips, he paused at a tree and leaned against 
 it, passing his hand over his eyes, as the heavy rifle fell 
 from his grasp. Then he sank down, benumbed and dead 
 to all dangers. 
 
 The dreams of Frank Lorimer were haunted by a 
 fair face with Castilian eyes, until the sharp sting of 
 some one of the thousand creeping things of Honduras 
 caused him to convulsively roll out of the hammock, 
 falling on the soft grass. He struggled slowly to his 
 feet, then gazed around. The camp was all silent, 
 and the stars glimmered through a wet mantle of warm 
 coast fog. 
 
 " I ll have just one pipe," he muttered, rubbing his 
 leg, " and take a turn around the fire." He looked about 
 for the sentinel. All was silent and deserted. "Why, 
 where s Nixon?" he sleepily mused, as he slowly paced 
 the little circle of their bivouac. 
 
 A sudden stumble over a prostrate form wakened 
 him to a sense of danger at once. 
 
 Crying loudly for help, he knelt beside the man lying 
 prone with his gun under him. " Dead! " he screamed, 
 and no one replied. 
 
 Catching up the Winchester he ran back to the ham 
 mocks. There were Baxter and Abercromby, lying also 
 helpless, and his rough shakings did not rouse them. 
 "Treachery!" he shouted, as he sprang over to where 
 the muleteers still lay in circle. But no answer came 
 to his alarms.
 
 226 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 He flew back to his friends. A hasty examination 
 showed him no mark of knife or bullet. They still 
 breathed, they were alive, thank God ! they were 
 alive ! 
 
 Dashing cool water over them from the lagoon, 
 prodding them, shaking them, crying to them at last 
 sentiency began to return to them. They moved of 
 their own volition, sluggishly, sleepily. Then Baxter 
 opened his eyes and growled sleepily : " What the 
 deuce is the matter ? " 
 
 " Matter ? You ve been drugged ! " 
 
 "Drugged !" The word seemed to act as a spur 
 upon the frontiersman. Drugged! How? You re 
 not insensible, Lorimer ? That s curious." 
 
 "I drank no coffee ! 
 
 "But I did and all the rest," muttered the scout, 
 still only half awake. A hurried questioning of Nixon 
 and Abercromby, who were now able to speak, told the 
 same tale. Lorimer had drunk no coffee and had 
 retained his senses. The rest had partaken and had 
 been drugged. 
 
 " The muleteers as well," cried Frank. " Look at 
 them ! There they all lie." 
 
 " Two of the three," said Baxter, striding over to 
 them. "Where the dickens is the other ?" 
 
 "A hasty search revealed that the chief muleteer 
 was gone. 
 
 "Ah ! to steal the mules, "cried Nixon. 
 
 " You re out there, my friend," replied Baxter, 
 who strode about waving his arms to make his blood 
 circulate and his brain work. " The mules are all here, 
 and so are our arms." 
 
 "Then we have been robbed of nothing," said 
 Abercromby. 
 
 "Hold your horses a minute," remarked the ex- 
 confederate. Seizing a brand from the fire he ran to 
 where the six ore bags had been piled between the 
 hammocks of Lorimer and Nixon. 
 
 A wild cry came from all of them ! 
 
 The sacks of emeralds were gone ! 
 
 Whirling the brand into a blaze, they saw that the 
 bags had been dragged away, over the now dew-soaked
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 227 
 
 grass down to the edge of the lagoon, and there the 
 deep prints of men s boots, showed where the heavy 
 burdens had been lifted into a canoe. 
 
 There, in the silence of the night, a sudden light 
 flashed over Lorimer s excited brain : "The Matanzas 
 schooner! By Heaven, they have followed us, and the 
 chief muleteer has drugged the party! 
 
 The toughened Baxter was now almost himself again. 
 
 " Saddle up, saddle up ! " shouted Lorimer in a stern 
 voice, and the frightened Mestizos urged by the heavy 
 foot of the guide, hastened to prepare the animals. 
 
 " Leave all but our weapons," ordered Baxter. 
 
 "And now altogether. On to Omoa!" cried Lor 
 imer. " For if we catch that schooner we may yet 
 get the thieves; if they don t throw the stuff over 
 board? By Heaven, they have tricked us at the last! " 
 
 The patter of the mule s feet on the road quickened 
 in rapidity as Nixon and Abercromby, the two greatest 
 sufferers, regained their vigor. 
 
 Baxter was now all awake, and it was at a smart 
 rattling trot the cavalcade pushed on to Omoa, 
 
 The day came at last, slowly breaking and lifting 
 the pearly fog from the sleeping bay. Already they 
 were in sight of Omoa when Baxter pulled up his mule 
 and whispered: " That fog may prove to be our salva 
 tion." "V 
 
 "Why?" hopelessly replied Nixon, the faithless 
 guard, whose head was bowed in shame. 
 
 " They won t be able to see us from the Cuban 
 schooner for an hour. If we can get on board the 
 Beauregard first, then our boats can take possession of 
 the Cuban schooner before any canoe can work out of 
 the lagoon We will find the head devil of this scheme, 
 whoever he is, on board that boat. You have been 
 tracked down here from New York By Heaven ! You 
 should have told me all at first! I might then have 
 saved you." Then Baxter broke away and galloped 
 up to the flag-staff that indicates the hotel of Omoa vil 
 lage, muttering: " Curse all half confidences! They re 
 worse than none at all! " 
 
 The friends had hardly drawn reins when the guide 
 quickly reappeared, followed by old " Frenchy Le-
 
 228 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 maire," half dressed, who excitedly pulled one of the 
 muleteers from his animal and then, springing on cried: 
 " Vamonos, pronto ! Lcs Voleurs ! " 
 
 A moment later they were at the beach. 
 
 The gray eyes twinkled ferociously as Lemaire yelled 
 to a Carib who stood up, gesticulating in a fine canoe, 
 " Four men; your very best; quick!" he called out, 
 as the eager natives ran down to the strand to meet the 
 liberal French captain. 
 
 Tony s gray mustache curled with anger as he lis 
 tened to Baxter s brief recital. 
 
 "Ah, Les Voleurs!" he snorted, as the four Caribs 
 brandished their paddles, the canoe whizzing along 
 over the crystal flood. Frenchy s head was now bent 
 to Baxter as the two men quickly laid their plans. 
 
 " I have it," growled the irate Lemaire. " I go on 
 board ze Matanzas schooner; make a friendship visit. 
 I send zis boat back to bring ze comandante right off 
 for ze breakfast, ze cigarre and ze good cognac. Ha 
 my buen amigo. I make him catch that diable muleteer ! 
 He hide near to watch for ze mule. I give you my 
 besta boat s crew my cutter and you all watch ze 
 lagoon. If one boat, he sneak out, then you run out 
 and stop him. If they row to ze Cuban schooner my 
 man all armed by Jupiterre! we hold ze boat! 
 
 The sunlight was dancing on the blue waters of the 
 dreaming bay, as the bronzed Caribs, standing upright, 
 propelled the great cedar canoe along with lusty 
 sweeps of their double-handled paddles. 
 
 Pearly banks of gray fog rolled away, showing the 
 beautiful reaches of Omoa bay-, fringed with its fruit- 
 laden trees. There was no sign of life on the dairn/ 
 Beauregard save a man on forecastle ; but there were 
 already some active fellows at work on the deck of the 
 great three-master. 
 
 " I don t like the looks of that," grumbled Baxter, 
 as he eyed the Cuban vessel. " They are loosening 
 her sails." 
 
 As he spoke the gray fog swept away and showed 
 the calm waters of the lagoon, into which the river 
 streamed with all the drainage of the great encircling 
 mountain basin.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 229 
 
 The morning gun at Omoa fortress boomed out, as 
 Nixon quickly cried, "See, something in the river! 
 Beyond the further point!" 
 
 A black speck was drifting down from afar. Was 
 it the thieves canoe? 
 
 "Ha ! pronto ! pronto ! " yelled Lemaire. 
 
 To his shout glistening balls of muscle rose on the 
 Carib boatmen s arms, as with strained whip-cord 
 sinews they swept their bark along. 
 
 "Get your arms ready," quietly ordered Baxter. 
 "We have no time to lose." 
 
 A minute later they were alongide the Beaaregard. 
 As Frenchy bounded lightly over the rail, his excited 
 gibberish brought every man* of his crew on deck. 
 
 Two minutes after he was pulling away to the Cuban 
 schooner with four of his tars, who carried not only 
 revolvers, but the usual machete of the polite land of 
 Honduras. 
 
 As Frenchy s gig swept away from the Beauregard, 
 her long boat was quietly lowered upon the side fur 
 thest from the Matanzas vessel. Into this boat, from 
 the Carib canoe, the four Americans sprang with 
 gleaming eyes, as their oarsman sat ready to give way. 
 
 Tired of waiting, Nixon leaned over the gunwale and 
 bathed his heated face in the sparkling waters on which 
 they floated. 
 
 "Don t do that," sharply commanded Baxter. 
 "The water swarms with huge sharks here; half a 
 dozen are near us in the shade of the schooner." 
 
 "Bah!" replied the excited American. " I escaped 
 the thieves; why not the sharks?" 
 
 "They are over the bar, and heading for the Cuban, 
 let s cut them off. " Give away, men ! " interrupted the 
 ex-Confederate as he seized the tiller. Now don t 
 shoot till I give the word." 
 
 They swept along now in plain sight of Captain Tony 
 Lemaire, who was just boarding the Matanzas craft. 
 
 The morning sun gleamed fiercely now on the glassy 
 waves, as the god of day darted his golden lances of 
 fire over the broad blue waters of Belize Bay. Nixon 
 had his glass fixed on the canoe which had passed over 
 the bar, and was now only a half mile distant from the
 
 230 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Cuban vessel. Baxter, with a keen survey of relative 
 positions, kept on his course, as if going ashore. 
 
 "I don t wish to frighten them until we get within 
 gun shot, coolly said the scout. "Then, when I give 
 them the order to stop, drop any man who^ wields a 
 paddle afterwards." 
 
 " They see us now, and are thinking over changing 
 their course. There are surely three men in that 
 canoe," said Nixon. 
 
 "Hello! " there seems to be a row too on the Cu 
 ban," cried Lorimer, who had been vigilantly watching 
 astern. 
 
 " So there is," said Baxter, as he snatched the glass. 
 "But Tony has the ship.* 
 
 "Look out for the canoe, and mind your shooting- 
 irons," ordered Baxter. 
 
 " I want them to get pretty near before we nab them, 
 so they can t throw the stuff overboard." 
 
 Two men were now paddling with all their might in 
 the canoe, which seemed to skim over the waves far 
 more swiftly than the heavy keel boat; still Tough 
 Baxter kept on his shoreward way. 
 
 Suddenly, he swept the boat around with the full 
 power of the rudder, and cried to the crew "Give 
 way ! " darting like a tiger directly at the canoe, now 
 quite near the Matanzas three-master. 
 
 A heavy man in the stern was visible, frantically 
 urging the twopaddlers; suddenly he stooped down 
 in the canoe, and seemed to be struggling with some 
 heavy object. 
 
 "Halt there ! " rang out clear and shrill over the 
 waters, in the scout s menacing tone. Still the bent 
 form struggled with its load, and the two upright fig 
 ures plied the paddles. " Fire across the bow, Nixon." 
 
 The rifle rang out! 
 
 There was no response, save the answering crack of 
 a Winchester, as the4>urly man in the canoe opened 
 fire on the JBeauregard s boat. 
 
 "Shoot him quick 7" commanded Baxter, as one of the 
 cutter s crew dropped his oar and fell back with a broken 
 arm. 
 
 Three rifles rang out together.
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 231 
 
 Then the frail canoe swayed as the man at the stern 
 sank back motionless. 
 
 "He s done for, shoot the others! " muttered the 
 scout, savagely, as the disabled cutter gathered way 
 once more. 
 
 For a naked Carib and a light form in loose linen 
 were standing in the pursued canoe and plying their 
 paddles desperately to escape. They were but fifty 
 yards from the Cuban schooner \\hcre Lemaire was 
 wildly gesticulating upon the forecastle. 
 
 The rifle spoke again. The paddle flew out of the 
 hand of the Carib. He toppled back with a scream. 
 
 "Capture the other one alive," muttered Baxter, as 
 he steered to range alongside the chase. A second after 
 he shuddered, "Great Heavens, he s gone!" as with a 
 despairing cry the frightened survivor of the canoe s 
 crew suddenly leaped overboard, and was seen swim 
 ming with desperate energy to the rope ladder hanging 
 over the Cuban s side. 
 
 A groan of horror burst from the Americans as the 
 water around the swimmer was lashed to foam with 
 huge darting forms of shiny green with gleaming white 
 bellies flashed in the sun, and the sharks were ravening 
 over what had once been a human being. 
 
 Onlya broad floating blood stain tinged the bubbling 
 foam, now churned up by the wild dash of the savage 
 monsters, and a straw hat floated idly away on the 
 shaking ripples, still quivering with the motion of the 
 man-eaters of Belize Bay. 
 
 The boat and canoe now came together with a shock; 
 the Carib lay athwart the bow, writhing in agony, with 
 a broken shoulder. 
 
 " There s the sacks yet! " yelled Baxter, in triumph, 
 as he grasped the light vessel by its gunwale with a 
 grip of steel, as it drifted helplessly by. 
 
 The first to leap into the canoe was Lorimer, who 
 muttered, " He s dead," as he turned up the face of 
 the man lying prone, heaving upon the ore bags in the 
 bottom of the dugout. 
 
 "Great God! It s it s the Padre! " almost shrieked 
 Nixon. 
 
 "What Padre?" growled the scout.
 
 232 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 " Parde Guerra! " faltered Lorimer. 
 
 The secret of the Cuban cattle schooner was at last 
 unveiled. 
 
 A half dozen men were leaning over the rail of the 
 Cuban, as the two boats drifted alongside. At the 
 companionway, Captain Tony Lamaire was now grimly 
 standing, revolver in hand. lie pointed as Frank Lori 
 mer sprang on the deck. "There he are" he cried. 
 " Ze ladrone muletero," and in truth, lashed to the 
 mainmast, the missing chief muleteer was trying to hide 
 his villainous face. 
 
 "I have ze crew all down below," joyously pro 
 claimed Lemaire, as he indicated one of his men stand 
 ing armed on guard at the cabin hatchway. 
 
 " Let us get this wounded wretch on board," faltered 
 Nixon, who had now satisfied himself that Padre 
 Viciente Guerra still had life in him. " I want him to 
 talk." 
 
 The boat s crew hastened to this task, while Aber- 
 cromby breathlessly said : " I recognized Juan Valdes, 
 as he sprang overboard, and he got only his deserts." 
 
 " Secure the emeralds " said Baxter in a low voice. 
 
 In five minutes a whip was rigged, and the six sacks 
 lay, safe at last, on the deck of the vessel, which 
 had evidently only waited the return of the two con 
 spirators to weigh anchor, and then set sail for 
 Matanzas. 
 
 Doctor Abercromby then raised a grave question 
 of immediate moment. Kneeling at the side of the 
 fainting priest, he said : "This man has but a 
 short time to live. The ball has gone through the 
 right lung. Send at once to the Beaurcgard for my 
 medicine chest." 
 
 Then as the cutter s crew sped away to the 
 Beauregard, he and Nixon diligently plied the wounded 
 man with cordials, and essayed all the resources of 
 their art. 
 
 "What you wish me to do now?" demanded the 
 eager Frenchman." 
 
 Get us all out of this harbor and put us ashore on 
 American soil at St. Augustine, just as quick as the 
 Beauregard can sail there," spoke Lorimer, as he
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 233 
 
 slowly gazed at the dying man, whose villainy had 
 effected the ruin of the Romero line. 
 
 In five minutes the villainous half-breed opened his 
 eyes. 
 
 Nixon, holding his hand, and testing the flickering 
 pulse, spoke gravely, almost beseechingly, to the 
 Padre. " Tell me, why did you hound down your 
 benefactors ? For what did young Felipe Romero 
 die ? " 
 
 The wounded man glared up defiantly at the circle 
 of hostile faces. The words came hissing forth from 
 his blood-foaming lips : 
 
 "His father was my mother s foe. Indian blood 
 never forgets ! General Jose Romero s father sent 
 me into the world as his despised bastard. For 
 the man whom I plotted to ruin in every step of his 
 life, was my brother ! My mother was his father s 
 victim, and I was suckled at her breast, to a bloody 
 vengeance ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THERE IS NO STAIN UPON THE ROBE. 
 
 A FILM gathered over the eyes of the baffled arch 
 assassin, and it was an anxious hour before the two 
 watchful doctors dared to hazard a last questioning. 
 
 The decks of both schooners were now busy with 
 the most precipitate efforts at departure. 
 
 While Abercrombie fanned the flame of life to 
 obtain further disclosures, Nixon and Lorimer were 
 at work with Tony Lemaire. 
 
 The Cuban captain was again in charge of his own 
 vessel. His ready story was backed with every evi 
 dence of truth. 
 
 Padre Viciente Guerra had engaged him for a 
 smuggling cruise along the Honduranean coast, and 
 inquiries for cattle being only to blind the authorities. 
 It was young Juan Valdes who had acted as the direc 
 tor of all operations on shore. The Cuban really 
 expected to be called on to r;::i in a fuil cargo of
 
 234 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 smuggled rum and tobacco from British Belize, land 
 ing it as usual on the Honduras shores and then 
 receiving hides and cattle in return. 
 
 There were now some warning signs of commotion 
 on shore which portended a hasty visit from the offi 
 cials. 
 
 "ByGare!" cried Captain Lemaire, "we fooJa ze 
 Comandante. I send my frien now to take my own 
 schooner out to sea. I weigha de ancre here an we 
 stand right outside. They got no good boat ashore. 
 You all stay here with me. Makea de offing twenty 
 miles, zen I steer for St. Augustine an this boata 
 for de Cuba!" 
 
 " Bueno /" cried the Cuban captain. " My owners 
 at Matanzas told me all right. The Capitan General 
 will back up El Padre." 
 
 In ten minutes both schooners were clouds of canvas 
 as they sped along over the shallow waters of Belize 
 Bay. A signal gun booming from old Omoa fortress 
 indicated the impotent rage of El Comandante, at this 
 most unceremonious departure of the two vessels 
 without their papers. 
 
 The Carib boatmen and the captive muleteers were 
 now loud in their wails as the great three-master swept 
 along seaward. 
 
 " Be quiet, you fools ! " commanded Nixon. "Don t 
 you see your canoe is in tow ? We will send you all 
 safely ashore and well paid," 
 
 " By the way," said Abercromby, " before the Padre 
 comes to, please sling that fellow who drugged us, up by 
 his thumbs and make him unfold all his yarn." 
 
 Baxter attended to this most cheerfully and spread 
 eagled his man " forrard " in great shape. 
 
 "You watch the Padre. I ll take notes of this 
 Dago s copious remarks," was the ex-guerrilla s sug 
 gestion. 
 
 But the main interest centered in the dark schemer 
 soon to be death s prey. 
 
 The three New Yorkers leaned over Padre Guerra, 
 who was seemingly revived by the fresh breeze now 
 singing through the rigging. 
 
 "We must coax the truth out of him," gravely said
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 235 
 
 Lorimer, thinking of the great estates of Jibacoa still 
 in jeopardy. 
 
 "Try kindness, " said Abercromby. "It s no use 
 to bluff a dying man. What has he now to fear ? 
 Hopes and fears are all the same to one whose foot is 
 on the threshold." 
 
 It was indeed even so. It was Abercromby who 
 knelt by the reviving half-breed. " Can I do any 
 thing for you ? " he said softly, as the dying priest 
 opened his eyes. "I am a doctor, as you know. 
 Your time is short. I was never your enemy only a 
 friend of my friends." 
 
 Viciente Guerra s eyes rested beseechingly on the 
 young man s frank, manly visage. There was a world 
 of questioning of all the bitter agony of defeat of a 
 proud man s sullen helplessness ; suddenly his glances 
 softened to a last mute appeal. 
 
 "A lonely woman," he whispered, "at Matanzas 
 will wait for the lad you saw die. She is my sister. 
 The Queen of the Voudoos. Will you swear to give 
 to her unopened what I confide to your honor. Tell 
 me, Americano ! " 
 
 "I swear, " solemnly said the young man after he 
 had exchanged glances with his friends. 
 
 "Around my neck," gasped Guerra. 
 
 Then Doctor Bill gently removed a small pouch 
 hanging by a silken cord on the bosom where brown 
 ridges were now flecked with stiffened clots of blood. 
 
 " Manuela, the housekeeper at Jibacoa will bring 
 her to you. Tell her, the charm failed us at the 
 last ! " 
 
 "Is that all ? " gravely questioned the doctor. 
 
 "Yes," groaned Guerra, "for the rest she will 
 know. Failure defeat the death of her loved son ! " 
 
 "Do you wish to be taken back to Cuba?" sol 
 emnly said Nixon. 
 
 Guerra faintly moved his lips. " In the old church 
 the ruined church there," he said; then muttered, 
 "You have wealth now a million." 
 
 There was a hovering silence as Abercromby plied 
 every restorative known to his art. W T hile the vessel 
 swept along over the fairy submerged gardens of ths
 
 236 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 seas, the three friends watched eagerly the last rally of 
 the dying man. 
 
 "Anything more ? " softly whispered Abercromby. 
 
 "Nothing," whispered Guerra, whose fingers were 
 moving and twitching in the manipulation of an absent 
 rosary. "It is the hand of God. The Voudoo Gods 
 are all liars. What would you of me ? Tell me." 
 
 " Tell us of your plans, " was Nixon s pleading in 
 quiry. " Remember the innocent girl." 
 
 The priest faltered. "If Juan \ 7 aldez had married 
 her, then my mother s line would have inherited the 
 stolen birthright. I wished to drive Inez to this 
 through poverty. So I had to have the legacy of the 
 old buccaneer too. I watched the Romeros from boy 
 hood, for my mother swore me to revenge. She was a 
 great Voudoo priestess and bequeathed to my sister her 
 awful heritage! " 
 
 "And Felipe why did he die?" Lorimer gravely 
 said. 
 
 " I I had to make room for Juan," the dying man 
 moaned. "Besides, I had to stop your search at Jib- 
 acoa. " 
 
 " Ah ! For the buccaneer s secret? " 
 
 " No for the pardon and restoration of the estates 
 to General Romero," sighed the padre, and his dying 
 eyes smiled at their astounded faces. 
 
 "What! Romero pardoned? Impossible!" gasped 
 Nixon. 
 
 "Ten years ago the Spanish Government by docu 
 ment sent to me." said the priest slowly, "proffered 
 free pardon and restoration of the estates in case Ro 
 mero would agree to quit the rebel cause and return 
 once more to Cuba. His family was so great the 
 name so old it would have been a grand branch lopped 
 off the patriot tree." 
 
 And you never told him?" began Lorimer excited 
 ly. But Nixon placed his finger on his lips and 
 muttered: "Hush!" the padre s voice was so very 
 low. 
 
 "No. Because I feared, for his daughter s sake 
 to give her a home, to place her above any chance of 
 want, Don Jose* might have accepted. I wanted the
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 237 
 
 girl in my own hands. Poor, it was easy- rich, it was 
 impossible! " 
 
 " And you came to New York for that? " cried Lor- 
 imer. 
 
 " That and other things. The Captain General sec 
 retly gave me charge of the Spanish government spies 
 in New York. By them afterwards I discovered that 
 you had found in some way the clew to the emeralds. 
 So we both, Juan and I, followed you to this place. 
 And Juan is destroyed and I am dying! " 
 
 "But this pardon as a dying man I charge you to 
 make reparation," whispered Nixon excitedly. " Inez, 
 your pupil, your own blood, you say; give back her 
 estates to her. Where can we find the pardon ? " 
 
 "Give my sister this ring on my hand," slowly 
 answered the man, who was fast weakening. My 
 sister will give you the offer of pardon ! Go to the 
 Spanish Ambassador in Paris and he will then render 
 up to Inez Romero the documents given him ten years 
 ago when he was the Minister to America. Then Inez 
 Romero is sure of her estates. My sister, the Voudoo 
 Queen, will give the pardon to you when you faithfully 
 restore to her the last of the great sacred Voudoo jewels, 
 the triple charm that never failed before. The 
 Voudoo Queen s amulet." 
 
 " God forgive you," solemnly said Nixon as he saw 
 a sudden change now stealing over the dying man s 
 bronze face. 
 
 "God never will ! " cried the padre, writhing in the 
 pains of dissolution. " God never will," he moaned, 
 the anguish of a lost spirit coming upon him, "for I 
 have, unannointed, administered the sacrament with 
 profane hands. For this I am damned forever! " 
 
 " What, no priest ? " they shuddered astounded. 
 
 "My cousin was a priest. El vomito killed him, 
 likewise the bishop of the diocese during the great 
 rebellion. There was none to minister to the dying. 
 I took the vocation upon me. During the awful com 
 motion of those years people passed away those that 
 remained forgot I had not been ordained. There was 
 no bishop to supervise, no vicar general to examine. 
 And then then I had learned the power of the con-
 
 238 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 fessional. I could not give it up, it aided me so in my 
 spying in my work of vengeance. I was never a true 
 priest only a government spy. There is no stain upon 
 the sacred robe of Rome which anathematizes me 
 and gives me to hell fire and damns me as I die! " 
 
 Here his voice failed him! They raised him gently 
 up and his eyes had not the peace of the passing spirit 
 but only the anguish of a soul forever lost. 
 
 Then with one shuddering thrill the darkened spirit 
 passed out far beyond the earthly metes and bounds 
 which fence in the loves and hates of this little world 
 of ours. 
 
 Twenty miles away the Comandante of Omoa vainly 
 raged as he saw the two schooners lying to at easy 
 anchorage, while the transfer of the six hide bags was 
 carefully effected. There was no danger now to the 
 jewels which had been the object of Guerra s artful 
 treacheries. 
 
 The Honduranian magnate howled in wrath when 
 the Carib boatmen paddled in at nightfall, bringing 
 back the cresfallen head muleteer, for already the saucy 
 Beauregard was standing away toward the coral reefed 
 shores of Florida, bearing three happy hearted men 
 homeward to Gotham s maddening whirl, and the great 
 three-master was steadily breasting the waves toward 
 distant Cuba with her bootless voyage unrewarded. 
 
 The three friends were now already deep in plans for 
 certain little personal excursions, which seemed to pre 
 sent peculiar advantages both to themselves and the 
 absentees in Paris, when Lorimer, gazing around their 
 cain, suddenly said: "Where s Baxter?" 
 
 The uplifted wine glass dropped from Doctor Bill 
 Abercromby s hand, as he darted upon deck. He 
 found the ex-Confederate standing alone at the bow of 
 the vessel gazing at the fast receding shores of Hon 
 duras. For the first time in many days no "personal 
 battery " adorned the veteran s manly person. 
 
 He gazed blankly at Doctor Bill, when that rising 
 young physician remarked: "I have orders to move 
 you aft, Baxter. We have obeyed you long enough, 
 and you are now my prisoner." 
 
 The world wanderer s cheek paled slightly as he
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART, 239 
 
 quietly said: "See here, Doctor Abercromby, you 
 have all good homes waiting for you. I seem to be 
 only a sort of extra man in this world. I d rather 
 stay here forward." 
 
 The answer of Doctor Bill was then a most effective 
 one, for he towed his human prize bodily down to the 
 cabin where Frank Lorimer now stood with a fourth 
 glass brimming with Tony Lemaire s be^-t. 
 
 Then, by an impulse which needed not the vain dis 
 play of threadbare words to interpret its origin, the 
 three friends drank the health of the fourth friend 
 whose wit and nerve had been the safeguard of them 
 all. 
 
 "You must give us a toast, Baxter," was the 
 emphatic order of Nixon, when the raider had been 
 duly honored. 
 
 "I only know two," said the simple borderer. 
 "Sweethearts and wives, and the Stars and Bars !" 
 Poor homeless rebel Baxter. 
 
 Then he went on. " Don t get me used to high 
 living, I m a poor man." 
 
 " Not if the emeralds are genuine," cried Nixon 
 heartily. 
 
 " To this Lorimer said excited : " Jim and I make a 
 straight run from Saint Augustine to Paris." 
 
 "And what of us?" remarked Abercromby rue 
 fully." 
 
 "You and Baxter must get over to Matanzas at 
 once incognito ; instantly see this Queen of the 
 Voudoos and obtain the papers left with her by the 
 dead padre. For we re going in now to get those 
 estates back for Inez Romero. Emeralds ain t enough 
 for such a beauty, eh, Lorimer ? " laughed Nixon. 
 
 For in truth they were merry now, fear of death had 
 passed from them, and champagne had taken its 
 place. 
 
 "Ah, I see!" said Abercromby. " Baxter and I 
 will get the papers and join yon in Paris." 
 
 "And what the devil am I to do in Paris ? " asked 
 the game Southerner. " I m only a fighting man with 
 out a job." 
 
 "Have a devil of a good time there and then when
 
 240 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 we get the estates trot back to Cuba and take posses 
 sion of them for Senorita Romero," remarked 
 Lorimer. 
 
 "Will that be her name when Baxter goes back ? " 
 said Abercromby with a slight snicker, which produced 
 a guffaw from Nixon. Even Baxter could not res 
 train his merriment, and Captain Tony Lemaire look 
 ing down the companion way cried : 
 
 " Gentlemens ! I vill join you in a toast, you seem 
 so ver happy ! " 
 
 So coming in the little Frenchman tipped up his 
 glass and said : "I drink to ze ladies! I know by 
 your laughs you are thinking of zem ! Allons, mes 
 enfants ! 
 
 With this he departed to pile more canvas on the fly 
 ing Beauregard, till she swept along like a lithe white 
 wraith of the summer seas, once the freebooters 
 home. 
 
 "I think even you, Baxter, may turn in for an all 
 night s snoose," said Nixon, meditatively. "No 
 chance of being drugged to-night. " 
 
 Then all turned in to dream. 
 
 Four days passed over them uneventfully in a deli 
 cious Nirvana of restful abandonment to the charms of 
 sea and sky. They had seen Ruatan, Ulitta and 
 Bonacca fade behind them, and speeding northward 
 marked the gleaming red lights on the crags where the 
 blood-thirtty Spaniard still keeps watch over the 
 " Siempre Isla de Cuba." Spit and Turtle Key shoal 
 and reef were safely threaded and the sharp-fanged 
 coral reefs below reached up in vain for the gleaming 
 copper of the Bcauregard. 
 
 As they approached Saint Augustine, Captain Tony 
 Lemaire became quite morose. 
 
 "You see," he said, confidentially to Nixon, "I 
 musta some day go back to Honduras coast. My boat 
 my face well known down zere. I get a one devil 
 overhauling if I go back. You takea me and makea 
 me one d d pirate!" 
 
 So a fear of Spanish spies and Cuban vengeance 
 weighing upon the old buccaneer, it was arranged 
 that the vhole party should be secretly landed in the
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 241 
 
 night at St. Augustine, while the schooner stood off 
 and on. 
 
 "You see we have no papers, and to be detained by 
 the authorities on a telegraphed complaint for our 
 flitting from Omoa would possibly be fatal to all our 
 plans for quick action," remarked the impatient Nixon, 
 as the friends gathered on the quarter deck the next 
 evening, elated yet anxious. For the lights which 
 shown out over the dancing waves were those of Saint 
 Augustine, and they had already passed Anastasia 
 Island and were opposite the landing on Bay Street. 
 
 "Yes, our flight from Omoa disposed of all our 
 camp outfit in very good shape," laughed Lorimer, 
 as he gazed down upon the long boat drifting at the 
 schooner s side, waiting for them and the rescued 
 plunder in the six rawhide bags. "We have only 
 what we stand in and are flying light." 
 
 " Except as to hair, " jeered Abercromby. "Mine 
 hasn t been cut for two months." 
 
 "All the better, " said Nixon. "Our landing from 
 a yachting cruise will be an easily believed story. 
 Devil fishing and tarpon catching will explain our 
 wild and unkempt appearance. Jump into the boat 
 quick! " 
 
 They were light-hearted as they swooped in shore- 
 wards and sprang upon the soil of the United States. 
 
 On Bay Street there was a short but hearty leave- 
 taking of old Tony Lemaire, who nursed the conscience- 
 bred horror of customs visits. The bill drawn on the 
 navy agent at Key West for his plump fee as per 
 charter, warmed all the cockles of the old pirate s 
 heart. He heartily screamed after them his good 
 wishes as his long boat drew away returning to the 
 Beauregard, which looked in the moonlight almost like 
 a phantom yacht. 
 
 Then the two lovers made straight for a telegraph 
 office, as Baxter and Abercromby with due philosophy, 
 followed by one astounded, stay-up-all-night nigger, 
 drove to the old Saint Augustine House on Bay Street, 
 very carefully guarding the inheritance of the absent 
 heiress of Jibacoa. For none of the great hotels like 
 the Ponce de Leon and Cordova, which are filled with
 
 242 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 myriad visitors in the winter, were open at this time 
 of the year. 
 
 As they reacned their hostelry the crowd of one 
 astonished darkey became a crowd of two astonished 
 darkies; for an arrival in St. Augustine at any time of 
 the day in October is a remarkable fact and the arrival 
 of four people at midnight from a phantom yacht 
 seemed miraculous. For yachts in the hot months at 
 Saint Augustine are very rare birds, though there is a 
 squadron of them during the winter. 
 
 Unheeding comment, Baxter s gray eye never for a 
 moment left the innocent looking bags which concealed 
 the yet unproved treasure-trove. 
 
 Before they had gone a hundred yards away from 
 the landing the swift swoop of the Beauregard had 
 picked up the returning boat and the beautiful sea rover 
 had vanished in the night. 
 
 "There is one astonished telegraph operator in this 
 sleepy old town," laughed Lorimer, as he recalled the 
 wonderment with which the clerk had received their 
 sheaf of messages. 
 
 " It seems providential. You can get your passage 
 to-morrow to Havana, and our train leaves in the early 
 morning for New York." 
 
 So, after a few hours rest, Nixon and Lorimer as 
 especial travelers in the express car for the North, 
 and Baxter and Abercromby with railroad tickets for 
 Tampa, en route for Havana, bade each other good 
 bye till they should meet in Paris. 
 
 But they did not know that a local H. Kinsley Syn 
 tax had " got on to them " and their adventures ; and 
 that very morning a great New York journal had pub 
 lished with big head lines a sensational telegram from 
 St. Augustine, full of the story of the return of an 
 American wrecking party which had recovered several 
 heavy chests of doubloons from a sunken Spanish frig 
 ate, and had been landed from a phanton yacht which 
 most mysteriously returned to the hidden location for 
 further plunder. 
 
 Some of this news drifting over to Paris, in conjunc 
 tion with the cable dispatches, clicked off from Saint 
 Augustine, produced a rage of excitement in certain
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 243 
 
 fair white bosoms, which bad been panting for news of 
 the departed for the love in a man s heart is ofttimes 
 forgotten in the mad rush of adventure but in a 
 waiting, watching woman anxiety causes it to grow and 
 suspense makes it more tender. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 "THE LAW OF THE BUCCANEERS!" 
 
 IN vain Paris had wooed the three waiting women with 
 its myriad fascinations. Gay Boulevard and the de 
 lightful Bois were not the haunts of the distinguee 
 widow whose diversely beautiful charges attracted a 
 world of comment. The evident social luxury of the 
 family, the thrilling loveliness of Inez, the Greuze-like 
 face of Ethel Lorimer, all attracted that nervous 
 advance guard of the fortune-hunters who always keep 
 watch upon the American colony. 
 
 All in vain were the gentle tentacles of the "hospi 
 table " foreigner thrown out. Sorrow has its dignified 
 mantle, which may riot be rent even by the curious. 
 There was time enough in these lonely weeks for all 
 three to realize the madness of the quest, the improba 
 bility of success, and the dangers and delays were now 
 but too apparent. 
 
 Days had dragged along into weeks, and beyond two 
 cablegrams, followed by some cautious letters, the 
 loving watchers were yet without tidings. The sweet 
 faces of Inez and Ethel began to be at last a bright 
 haunting charm of the cable offices, where, alas! no 
 magic words of hope awaited them. 
 
 One evening in their salon at the Hotel Athenie 
 Inez Romero s clinging arms had pressed "the mother" 
 to her breast once more in a wordless "Good night," 
 and brave Ethel, too, had for the hundredth time as 
 serted her own theories as to the necessary delays of 
 communication in the savage interior of Honduras,
 
 244 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 when the sharp sound of a double knock called Mrs. 
 Lorimer to the door of her salon. 
 
 Impassive bearer of tidings good or bad, the grave- 
 faced professional servant calmly thrust an envelope 
 into the startled woman s hand. 
 
 She was nervously trembling over the unopened tele 
 graph envelope when with the swoop of the falcon, 
 two sets of clinging arms were strained around her, 
 and laughing, crying, loving eyes, filled with happiest 
 tears, beamed upon her. 
 
 " Safe! Safe, mother!" was Ethel s joyous cry. 
 
 "Your son began Inez, but there was no reply, 
 for the mother s quick eye had caught the words of the 
 telegram: 
 
 "All well coming direct successful." 
 
 The signature, "Frank and Nixon," was buzzing in 
 her brain as she gazed about to find her two excited 
 guardian angels busied in comparing two other cable 
 grams that had been received a little later. For the 
 news of the dreamy-eyed Cuban orphan was strangely 
 contained in a dispatch signed "Frank," and Doctor 
 Nixon himself had been thoughtful enough to cable 
 directly to Miss Ethel. 
 
 No one noted how the dragging days filled up their 
 measure until the arrival of the BourgognezA. Havre. The 
 confirmatory dispatches announcing the sailing from 
 New York City were followedafew days later by a cipher 
 cablegram from Matanzas, Cuba, addressed to Frank 
 Lorimer, Hotel Athenie, Paris. 
 
 " Let us open it, it must contain news about your 
 estates, Inez," remarked Ethel, in whom excitement 
 had not yet killed curiosity. 
 
 " My estates, bah! When Frank is com " cried 
 Miss Inez, but stopped here and got very red in the 
 face. 
 
 But at last the happy day came when Mrs. Lorimer 
 and her dazzling charges departed together for the 
 Gare St. Lazare to receive the pilgrims of the Aguan. 
 There the widow had the advantage of the young 
 ladies; she embraced both the bronzed young men. 
 Ethel had only the kisses of one, her brother ; and 
 poor Inez, forced by les convenances could only blush
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 245 
 
 and shake hands and say " God bless you you have 
 done all this for my sake " though her starry eyes and 
 enchanting lips perchance meant kisses also. 
 
 As for Ethel, she gave him a look that made Nixon 
 wonder how he ever could have left her. 
 
 Half an hour afterward, in their salon at the Athenie, 
 Frank, inspecting the cipher telegram, remarked: " By 
 Jove ! Abercromby has found the Romero amnesty, 
 and he and Baxter have caught the steamer from 
 Havana. That Consul is a regular gilt-edged brick." 
 
 " The Romero amnesty ? What do you mean ! " cried 
 Inez, excitedly. 
 
 "It is a little first trick in a game that will soon 
 ring down the curtain on the whole drama of the past. 
 Its lurid lights are faded forever," answered Lorimer. 
 
 "You can thank Doctor Nixon for your precious 
 stones if they re worth anything. But if you regain 
 your estates bless the law for that," added the young 
 attorney, with eyes that indicated a longing for 
 his fee. Then he said, confidently but solemnly, 
 "You must give me a couple of days after Aber- 
 cromby s arrival to fight my own last battle for you." 
 
 The hours sped along on golden wings until the 
 arrival of the Havana steamer, as in wide-eyed wonder 
 the ladies followed the unrolled panorama of the rela 
 tion of the strange Honduranean voyage. 
 
 While awaiting the arrivals from Cuba, Nixon and 
 Lorimer busied themselves with certain important con 
 ferences with the leading dealers in precious stones in 
 Paris. These were controlled by advice given by the 
 great firm of bankers who had kindly watched over the 
 ladies in their waiting weeks. 
 
 "It ah comes to this, gentlemen," said the gray- 
 bearded chief of the firm. 1 have arranged with the 
 leading European expert on emeralds to see Tiffany, 
 Reed & Co. s buyer. You had better face him at once 
 with a fair selection of these uncut stones. He will 
 be under the impression that the rough stones are only 
 in your charge as representatives of the estate of some 
 deceased South American grandee. Don t lose sight 
 of your gems a moment." 
 
 It was an anxious half hour which Nixon and Lori-
 
 246 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 mer passed together the next day in a room where the 
 representative of the great importing jewelers faced a 
 pallid young man who sat, scales and tweezers in hand, 
 at a plain deal table. 
 
 Remember, Horrivtz," continued the head clerk, 
 " we are to pay your expert fee." 
 
 The silent foreigner bowed in answer as he then 
 counted and noted the weight of twelve rough stones 
 which had been selected as a fair average by the joint 
 efforts of the two returned adventurers. 
 
 Then he bent to his task, while Lorimer and Nixon 
 watched him with their hearts in their mouths. 
 
 The thin claw-like fingers of the expert strayed 
 among the implements and chemicals of the test labor 
 iously. Plunging his hands in his bushy hair the nerve 
 shaken expert pondered long and finally broke out: " I 
 never doubted the evidence of my senses before, and 
 so I wish the privilege of calling in my principal. He 
 is the money I am only the science of this thing. You 
 know the Venetian Sangreal cup the single vase 
 hollowed from an emerald. Our people the Hebrews 
 loaned the great Napoleon a half million crowns on 
 it when he held it as a temporary gage of fortune. It 
 was proved to be false at last. And but a year ago the 
 great Vienna emerald swindle! An unparalleled gem 
 an emerald of unheard of richness and water. It 
 had passed through a dozen expert hands. The sly 
 Levantine who engineered that swindle pocketed a 
 snug forty thousand florins in clear gold." 
 "These imitations were ?" 
 
 " Lumps of glass, which are, after all, the best imi 
 tation of the colored stones. Strass crystal what 
 ever you may call it. There are hundreds of proud 
 beauties now wearing worthless glass, in the swim, 
 where the lie has been handed down by generations of 
 innocent dupes. It would spread dismay among 
 princes and princesses if ever the crown jewels of 
 Europe were to be properly examined. But these things 
 before me stagger me. Will you wait a few moments? 
 They only lack the traditional flaws for me to pronounce 
 at once. If they could be matched there is an open 
 Imperial order for a nonpareil emerald necklace."
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 247 
 
 The friends lingered in suspense. Their eyes sought 
 -each other in silence. The expert fled away and re 
 turned with the other Hebrew, who always hovers near 
 on a field-day of such financial ventures. 
 
 With flashing eyes the waiting onlookers suppressed 
 their breathing as the globular perspudtion beaded the 
 brows of the sons of Judah. 
 
 A jargon which defies all modern vocabulary enabled 
 the "chosen ones" to confer, as the impatient watchers 
 sat with their hopes combating pessimistic fears. Lor- 
 imer felt the warm blood surge to his temples when the 
 young expert at last threw down his metallic antennael. 
 
 "Real !" he said, decisively, with the air of an 
 oracle. And the " partner " whose signs of prosperity 
 in efflorescent jewelry and well-rounded waistcoat 
 added to his self-sufficiency, hoarsely growled : "I 
 back him up with all my money ! " 
 
 "What do you value them at ! " incautiously haz 
 arded Nixon. 
 
 "Ah! mine fren !" and the two Israelities sprang 
 up eagerly, as with waving hands, their trembling 
 palms upturned; they raced along in a conversational 
 steeplechase to be the first at limiting the possible 
 bargain within the decent confines of profit. 
 
 The clerk laughed most heartily as he joined the 
 two Americans in the reception room after a half hour s 
 further conference. "It will probably be better to 
 arrange with the head of our house to have the gems 
 cut, and then valued later. We will take them, how 
 ever, if you wish, on our own risk as soon as we agree 
 on a price, for they are real ! " 
 
 And so they were, beyond the possibility of any mis 
 take, was the final fiat of the great house, delivered on 
 their return through the chief, whose congratulations 
 were now in order. In addition, he made an offer for 
 the twelve uncut emeralds that made the young men 
 open their eyes. 
 
 " There are at least seven hundred emeralds in the 
 bag," cried Nixon, excitedly to Lorimer as they held 
 private conference together. " At this rate " he made 
 hasty figures " Senorita Inez will be worth millions." 
 
 "Yes worth millions!" returned Frank, rather
 
 248 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 gloomily. Then he added: "Miss Romero must be 
 spoken to at once. She had better take the money 
 offered for these twelve, as the expenses have been 
 very heavy, and I m pretty near the end of my finan 
 cial tether." 
 
 On this proposition being laid before Miss Romero, 
 she immediately assented to the same, the jewels were 
 sold, and the expenses of the expedition liquidated in 
 full. 
 
 "She is a great heiress, " said Ethel excitedly, "isn t 
 she ? And owes it all to you, Frank." 
 
 "And Doctor Jim," said her brother with such 
 gloom in his voice that Nixon, looking after him, 
 uttered a prolonged whistle, and remarked to himself: 
 
 "By Jove ! That fellow has made that girl so rich 
 that he s afraid to propose to her." 
 
 But notwithstanding this, Frank abated no effort on 
 behalf of the young lady who was under his legal 
 charge. 
 
 "We can now clear away decks for action for the 
 last trick," he said two days later, when Doctor Will 
 iam Abercromby and "Tough" Baxter arrived and 
 delivered the proffered amnesty, ten years old, from 
 the Spanish government to Don Jose Romero and his 
 descendants under certain conditions. 
 
 "Now," remarked Lorimer, "you, Nixon and I 
 move on the Spanish Ambassador. While we prepare 
 our plans you, Doctor Bill, make yourself agreeable to 
 the ladies." 
 
 " And what am I to do ? " said Baxter. 
 
 "Why, see Paris, my man. This is the chance of 
 your life." 
 
 Acting upon this advice, for two or three days Bax- 
 did see Paris in a way that astonished the Cafes 
 Chantants and the Quartier Latin. In fact, before he 
 had left the town he had became celebrated among the 
 young ladies of the boulevards under the soubriquet 
 of " Le Tr appear Taciturne." 
 
 As for Abercromby he did his duty to the fair ones 
 and led the ladies afar on small excursions, of great 
 pleasure to them and large profit to the Parisian shop 
 keepers. For a general coquettish, feminine devilish-
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 249 
 
 ness seemed to assert itself now in the two maidens. 
 They looked more beautiful than ever; they arrayed 
 themselves in the most exquisite Parisian gowns, but 
 as Nixon remarked, seemed "infernally offish." 
 
 " I can understand," he cogitated, "the emeralds 
 getting to that minx Inez s head, but what s the mat 
 ter with that blue-eyed, level-headed nixie of Pough- 
 keepsie ? " 
 
 But the young men had plenty to do. They had 
 already made friends with the American Legation, and 
 one evening under convoy of an attache, Frank Lori- 
 mer of the New York bar, supported by Dr. James 
 Nixon, with due gravity and splendor of attendant 
 details, were at last ushered into the conference rooms 
 of the Spanish Ambassador at Paris. 
 
 The introduction finished, in which the kindly 
 attache took care to magnify the sudden yearning of 
 the American government as to the Romero affair; the 
 most noble the Marquis de Villa Flores listened with 
 calm, diplomatic courtesy, and displayed the most 
 haughty, high-bred patience as he harkened to the 
 American lawyer s demand for certain papers deposited 
 with him when he was the Spanish Minister at Wash 
 ington ten years before, and still held by him, relating 
 to Don Jose" Romero, at that time a resident of the 
 United States. 
 
 " But not a c : tizen," remarked the Marquis blandly. 
 
 "Certainly not, your Excellency," replied Lorimer. 
 
 "Then the affair is very simple. Had Don Jose 
 become a citizen of the republic I fear his daughter 
 could never have received the estates. As he has 
 remained a Spanish subject, though an exile, I think I 
 can aid you. In fact, I shall be delighted to do 
 so, as I believe I have the honor of being a 
 second or third cousin of the fair young lady 
 herself. The documents placed in my hands were a 
 full pardon to Romero under condition that he agreed 
 to return to Cuba and made oath to support no further 
 insurrectionary movements in the island. I was both 
 astounded and grieved that he never applied for them, 
 as notice of the amnesty had been sent to him by a 
 trusted agent of ours, one Padre Viciente Guerra. I
 
 250 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 am very candid in this matter, as you have been candid 
 with me," returned the Marquis. 
 
 "I will be still more so, your Excellency," replied 
 Lorimer. " The notice of amesty given into the hands 
 of Guerra never reached Don Jose Romero, but was 
 retained to further his own personal ends by Padre 
 Viciente. As long as Romero could not take possession 
 of the family estates at Jibacoa he, Gutrra, lived in 
 enjoyment of them. Besides, he had other plans." 
 
 With this the lawyer lucidly laid before the Spanish 
 Ambassador the extraordinary action, plots and revenge 
 of the man who had masqueraded as priest and spy at 
 the same time. 
 
 "Then, there only remains for me to inform 
 myself," answered the Ambassador, "if this proffer 
 from the Spanish government of free pardon and the 
 lifting of the confiscation of the estates are still open. 
 That I can easily ascertain by telegraphing my govern 
 ment at Madrid. In case their answer is favorable, I 
 shall do myself the honor of calling in person with the 
 documents upon my fair relative. You will hear from 
 me in the course of a few days," added the Marquis, 
 with that air of politeness, yet brevity, which great 
 people assume toward small ones to show them that the 
 interview is finished. 
 
 " I believe your case is all right," said the attache 
 cordially, as he bade the young men good-bye at the 
 American Embassy. "Only don t let his Spanish 
 Excellency get the girl for his nephew, who is a very 
 handsome young fellow, exceedingly extravagant and 
 somewhat impecunious." 
 
 This kind of advice made Lorimer very moody as 
 they strode back to the Athenie. 
 
 But at his hotel a surprise awaited both him and Nixon. 
 On entering his mother s parlor and asking to see Miss 
 Romero, in order to give her the pleasant information 
 from the Spanish Ambassador, Mrs. Lorimer in 
 formed her son that at present his fair client was not 
 visible. 
 
 " Not to such important news ? " asked Frank some 
 what hotly and very disappointedly, for he and Nixon 
 had been at the American Embassy most of the day,
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 251 
 
 and his eyes hungered for the sight of the exquisite face 
 and graceful form of Senorita Inez. 
 
 "Not just at present," replied Mrs. Lorimer. 
 " Inex and Ethel are preparing a little tableau for you 
 two, Doctor Abercromby and Mr. Baxter, whom I 
 expect here in a few moments.." 
 
 "A tableaux? " queried Nixon astounded. 
 
 " Yes, some South American affair," laughed Agnes. 
 The girls have been reading up about the buccaneers 
 for the last day or two. " 
 
 Well, what has all this do with those four gentle 
 men loitering about the hall, as we entered," remarked 
 Frank, anxious to grumble about something. 
 
 " Oh, they re four agents de surete." 
 
 " Detectives! " cried Nixon. 
 
 "Yes, they have been here all day guarding the 
 emeralds that have been sent up from the bank in the 
 raw-hide sacks by the order of Miss Inez." 
 
 "Great heavens!" ejaculated Doctor Jim. "And 
 they took this risk to give us a tableau! " 
 
 " I suppose they have strung the uncut jewels all 
 over them," remarked Lorimer. "What a sight they 
 will be." And his eyes lighted up at the thought of 
 Miss Romero covered with uncut jewels. Then he 
 delivered a little lecture on feminine vanity to his 
 mother, which that widow received with laughter. 
 
 This was interrupted by the entrance of Abercromby 
 and Mr. "Tough " Baxter, who was still in trapper s 
 garb. 
 
 Feminine voices nov came to them from behind the 
 heavy draperies that cut off the salon from a little ante 
 chamber. 
 
 A minute after, at a tinkle of a little bell, Mrs. 
 Lorimer s maid entered and drew the draperies aside, 
 disclosing a sight that made even imperturbable Bax 
 ter remark, soto voce : " By golly! " 
 
 It was a scene that might well produce admiration, 
 for it was a picture of the past. By deft feminine hands 
 the room had been turned into some kind of medieval 
 affair with old-fashioned draperies, antique vases and 
 ancient arms that :ad been borrowed from an antiquary 
 on the Rue Rivoli. Within it stood Inez Romero and
 
 252 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 Ethel Lorimer dressed in the costumes of two hundred 
 years ago; one blondely fair, with gleaming, sparkling 
 blue eyes, the other dark, enchanting, fascinating, with 
 the grand beauty of Castile. Heaped about them were 
 leather bags corded up. 
 
 "What s the the meaning of this masquerade ?" 
 muttered Lorimer, astounded. 
 
 " It is a vision of the plunder of the buccaneers ! " 
 cried Ethel, laughingly. 
 
 "It means," said Inez, proudly, " that the plunder 
 of the buccaneers is to be divided among those who 
 gained it!" Then she burst forth almost indignantly : 
 "Did you think for one moment that I could have been 
 so heartless, so ungrateful, as to have proffered no 
 reward to the brave men who have risked their lives to 
 give me wealth ? This plunder is buccaneers plun 
 der, the division shall be according to buccaneers 
 law." 
 
 " Buccaneers law!" cried Nixon. "Why, it s it s 
 like a dream of the past! " 
 
 And in truth it was, for the scene carried with it an 
 antiquity that made it real. The room looked mediae 
 val with its old-fashioned draperies and arms; the bags 
 of leather seemed like the plunder of some Spanish 
 fortress at Maracaibo or Porto Bello, and Inez Romero 
 and Ethel Lorimer in their antique costumes looked 
 like two maidens, the fairest in all the ravaged 
 town, who had been gathered in with the 
 treasure to be the spoil of the chiefs of the buccaneers: 
 Ethel, draped wholly in white with floating tresses and 
 excited eyes; Inez in black and gold, her hair done 
 up with high jeweled comb, flaunting a fan that Spanish 
 girls alone know how to use, her bouffant skirts 
 trimmed with the lace of Spain, that displayed her high- 
 arched but petite feet and exquisite ankles in web-like 
 hose and fairy slippers. 
 
 But it was not a tableau they were looking cm; it 
 was action, vivid, intense, graceful action, as Inez 
 spoke again and said: "This division I make accord 
 ing to Buccaneers Law! First, are there any wounded? 
 If a man has lost an arm, a hundred and twenty-five 
 golden crowns, or four shares; an eye, twenty-five,
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 253 
 
 or one share ; even a finger must be paid for accord 
 ing to the laws of the Companions of the Gulf." 
 
 " I ain t lost nothing but a mule," replied the down 
 right Baxter, who seemed to regard this as a very 
 business-like affair. 
 
 "That shall be paid for," remarked Miss Romero. 
 "The expenses have all been settled, and I as the 
 queen take half, or three hundred shares." 
 
 With that she gathered in six of the bags of emeralds 
 and placed them on one side. "Now comes the cap 
 tain, who has one hundred shares, or one-sixth of the 
 plunder." 
 
 With this the two girls seized two sacks and pre 
 sented them to the astonished Lorimer. 
 
 " Next comes the doctor and chief intriguer." And 
 she and Ethel laughingly deposited by the astounded 
 Nixon two bags of uncut emeralds. 
 
 "The other shares, one hundred; fifty each, one to 
 the under officer, Abercromby, and the other to the 
 brave guide, who saved the lives of all of you the 
 great scout, Baxter!" 
 
 And she handed to the astonished ex-rebel a leather 
 sack and to the delighted Abercromby another, of 
 equal weight. 
 
 "I never refuse plunder, Miss," replied the ex- 
 guerrilla, as he cooly took possession of his own. 
 
 But here Nixon excitedly said : " You give too much. 
 I did this not for love of you, I confess it freely, but 
 for love of him," and he placed his hand upon Lorimer s 
 shoulder. 
 
 But Inez cried: "No! No! I beg of you, I com 
 mand you to take these. I could not sleep to-night if 
 I thought each one of you had not received his share. 
 It is according to the laws of the Brotherhood of Buc 
 caneers that you share the plunder. But know that you 
 have my gratitude as well. Would not my heart have 
 been broken if destruction had come to you? Take it, 
 share the plunder according to the laws of the buc 
 caneers! " 
 
 This was said with streaming eyes ; then quick as 
 thought the generous girl, overcome by some emotion 
 that was too potent to be concealed, fled from the
 
 254 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 
 
 room and perchance would have escaped had not a sud 
 den idea flashed like wildfire into Lorimer s excited brain. 
 
 In an instant he was after her and stayed the beauty 
 in a little writing-room belonging to Mrs. Lorimer. 
 
 " You have followed me here? " said the girl, turn 
 ing upon him, and looking more beautiful than she had 
 ever looked. 
 
 " Yes, to demand my whole share of the plunder! " 
 whispered the excited Frank. 
 
 "You have it. Is it not enough have I not given 
 you your due? " 
 
 " No! The Captain s share is not only his portion 
 of the treasure but also the right to the most beautiful 
 captive maiden in the town. When you stood amid 
 the buccaneer s booty I said: Thank God, I am the 
 captain of the band, and the prettiest maid comes into 
 my hand by law of the buccaneers. 
 
 "OMadre! ODios!" gasped the girl between his 
 kisses. For she had no more chance of escaping from 
 him than she would have had of escaping from Harry 
 Morgan himself. 
 
 "Booty and beauty is my motto," whispered Frank 
 to her in rapture. " Only we ll have wax candles over 
 this affair and the priest s blessing." 
 
 "Diosf What a buccaneer you would have made," 
 replied the young lady, in an admiration that showed 
 that his attentions, though ardent, had by no means 
 been displeasing. 
 
 "lam ahead of the Spanish Ambassador and his 
 nephew," whispered Lorimer, a few minutes after to his 
 chum, when he had returned to the salon. 
 
 "Are you?" replied Nixon. "That means the 
 priest for two ; but I say it means priests for four. 
 For, between us, I have secured the other captive 
 maiden myself congratulate me." 
 
 "What! You fell in love with Ethel, as she stood 
 there, surrounded by the treasure? Huw romantic," 
 whispered the young lawyer. 
 
 "Bosh! I fell in love with Ethel the first moment I 
 saw her, I think. Oh, blind-eyed! didn t you see that 
 all I did for you was for love of her? Is Senorita 
 Rom.iro the only pretty girl in this world? "
 
 HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART. 255 
 
 And they had a very happy party that night, Mr. 
 Baxter telling them to have no fear of thieves for the 
 jewels. He was going to take care of his own and he 
 would take care of theirs also. "If they can get 
 away with a bag before I shoot they are welcome to it. " 
 
 Then the shoppings of the young ladies increased 
 and doubled and trebled, for they were buying their 
 trousseaux. And they transformed emeralds into 
 dresses with great rapidity. 
 
 Some two days after this the Spanish Ambassador 
 drove from his Embassy bringing his nephew with 
 him and presented in form the revocation of the con 
 fiscation of the Romero estates, and begged to intro 
 duce his nephew, Don Caesar de Flores. 
 
 But his Spanish Excellency s jaw dropped, likewise 
 his nephew s, a few weeks after, when they received 
 the cards announcing the approaching nuptials of 
 Senorita Inez Romero and Frank Lorimer, Esq., of 
 New York; likewise the paste-boards stating that Miss 
 Ethel Lorimer would on that same day become Mrs. 
 James Nixon. 
 
 The double wedding would have been a quiet one, only 
 that the American colony in Paris, getting excited 
 over the matter, made it a fashionable event, and H. 
 Kinsley Syntax, who was over, doing the continent, 
 sent columns of cable to the New York papers, headed 
 " His Cuban Sweetheart. " But he would have liked 
 to have heard one sentence that one bridegroom 
 remarked to the other as they shook hands before 
 departing upon separate wedding tours: 
 
 "By Jove, Jimmy, c d chum ! this is a buccaneer 
 affair booty and beauty, eh, my boy ? " 
 
 "Egad," replied Nixon, "old Harry Morgan 
 couldn t have made a cleaner scoop himself! " 
 
 FINIS.
 
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