I will not enter into the details of events in Havana for the next few days—briefly told, I was nominally a prisoner; actually so, as regards leaving the barracks. The commander, Col. Vascos, was a warm friend, and, living in the barrack, he wanted me to dine at his table, but as I was already planning an escape, I deemed it best not to accept.

My wife spent many hours with me daily. All my meals were brought from the hotel. Nunn was kept a prisoner for two days, then liberated. I took him into my confidence, telling him I was going to escape, and directed him to make all outside arrangements for that event, and he was greatly rejoiced when I told him he should accompany me in my flight.

Pinkerton, was awake to the danger of losing his man, and had lodged a written protest with the English and American Consuls against my being confined in the police barracks.

The only result was that Col. Vascos issued an order to keep him and his men out of the barracks.

I had a great many visitors, including officers of the army and navy, and all were loud in protestation and indignant at my arrest. None seemed to care whether I was guilty or not, but all demanded my liberation, as there was no extradition treaty and no law to surrender me. Even my lawyer, the most influential in Cuba, assured me there was not the slightest danger of my surrender, but I knew that the bankers Rothschild would ask Spain to give me up, and to an impecunious Government like that of Spain the word of a Rothschild was more potent than that of a king.

Then I knew such bright men as William A. Pinkerton (who had arrived) and his lieutenant, Capt. John Curtin, would never have made the mistake of coming to Cuba without full powers; therefore, feeling confident that my surrender would be only a question of time I resolved to escape.

At my request Col. Vascos had sent a guard of soldiers to my house and brought to the barracks two of my trunks. I had $80,000 in cash and bonds, besides many valuables as well, in them. I gave my wife $20,000 and my servant $1,000 in gold and $5,000 in Spanish bank notes. Curtin had in vain tried to seize my luggage, but the Spanish law stood in his way.

All this time the rebellion in the island was in full blast, the insurgents—consisting of native Cubans, mulattoes and negroes (ex-slaves)—held possession of the greater part of the Eastern provinces—that is, the whole eastern end of the island, and the western end, called Pinar del Rio. They had kept the flame of rebellion alive for six years and were still making a desperate and fairly successful fight to maintain themselves. The sympathies of the American people were with them, and they looked to our country for arms and recruits. The former were smuggled into the island as opportunity offered by a Cuban committee in New York. Not many, but yet some, recruits went, for it was death to be caught going or returning, and few ever returned. The civil conflict was murderous, neither side giving quarter. The spirit of adventure was strong upon me, and I resolved, if I escaped, to make my way to the Western Province and join the insurgents for a year, then make my escape by crossing the narrow body of water between Cape San Antonio and the mainland of Central America.

Once among the rebels all pursuit of me was at an end, as army after army had been sent from Spain to crush the rebellion, and each had in turn melted away before the valor of the rebels or the deadly climate.

Nunn volunteered to accompany me, and I gave him $2,000 to send to his wife in Paris, that his mind might be easy on that score. No one knew my real destination save Nunn and my wife. It was hard to obtain her consent, but at last it was given. I arranged with her that she was to leave Havana as soon as she knew I was off, cross to Key West, wait one month there, and, if she then heard nothing of me, she was to telegraph my sister to meet her in New York, take the steamer to that city and live with her until I rejoined her.