Father Felix found Ruth Wakefield and her little, frightened household fully awake as well as fully aware of the nature of the episode that had startled him to such an extent that he had climbed the hill to ascertain the safety of the inhabitants of the mansion on the hill, for the good Priest pitied the mistress of the mansion far more than he did the poor girl in the cottage, knowing that added refinement often makes more poignant a sorrow that would inevitably be hard for any human heart to bear.
CHAPTER VII
All over the little village of San Domingo, on the morning of February sixteenth, 1898, the news spread like wild-fire that the United States battleship, Maine, had been blown up in Havana Harbor.
Manuello, having secreted his map in what he considered to be a safe place, and having remained quietly inside his own domicile during the balance of the night preceding the general acceptance of the the salient facts concerned in the great disaster, ventured forth at daylight, hoping to discover the condition of the public mind with regard to it.
The first place he visited was one of the block-houses where he had hob-nobbed with the soldiers before the news of the explosion had reached them; here he found closely shut mouths and stern countenances meeting him on every side, as he was known to be engaged in stirring up strife and dissatisfaction among the peons of whom, to some extent, now that Victorio Colenzo was dead, he was an acknowledged leader; the soldiers, knowing nothing of what action would be taken by their own government, much less of how far the resentment of the powerful nation involved in the disaster would carry them, thought that discretion was, by all means, the better part of valor, in this instance, and, accordingly, had no private conversation with Manuello at all, being careful to have several of their number within ear-shot of every word he uttered; he, realizing the situation, after some few moments, went quietly away, glad, indeed, to escape so easily from among the armed hosts of Spain, for his own native country had been under the heel of Spanish oppressors for more than three years, at this time.
From the block-house, the young fellow proceeded to the dwelling of little Tessa for he had a sort of mild affection for her, knowing how profoundly she admired him and being flattered by her preference, while his own heart was set on Estrella, to win whom he had, indeed, committed a most terrible crime, for it had been his hand that had almost severed the handsome head of Victorio Colenzo from his strong and agile body, he having taken advantage of the confusion in the prison at the time of the liberation of the political offenders to vent his own jealous spite upon the natural leader of them all, little dreaming that he had cut off in his prime the husband of the lady of the mansion on the hill, but only congratulating himself on having removed from his own path a dangerous rival in the affections, not only of Estrella, but also of all of those with whom he, Manuello, hoped to advance his own interests; for Victorio Colenzo was a man to be feared by all those who opposed him as Manuello knew very well; now that his dead body was lying there in the little improvised morgue, it seemed to the young Cuban that his great influence would soon die away, and, so far as Estrella was concerned, he felt pretty sure of her as she was so near to him and would, naturally, lean upon him in trouble.
So that, he felt quite complacent as to the recent turns in his affairs, when he entered the rude home of little Tessa; he found that small, dark young woman standing quietly beside a window watching his approach; she turned to him, when another member of the family had admitted him, eagerly and expectantly:
"What do you think, Manuello?" she inquired. "What will be the result of last night's terrible disaster? Shall we, now, have the Americans to fight as well as the Spanish? Will the great United States hold us responsible for this crime? I wondered, right away, what you would think about it all and am so glad you have come over early. Is dear Estrella as well as we could expect under her distressing circumstances? Will the body of her lover be buried, today? Will this new trouble make any difference with the burial of the bodies in the morgue? Tell me everything you know, Manuello. Don't pay any attention to my questions ... just go ahead and tell me!"
She had come near to him as she kept asking questions, and was now beside him and had grasped the collar of his short jacket, for Manuello was something of a dude among his associates and was very particular as to his appearance, being proud of his straight, strong figure and broad shoulders which towered above many of the heads of his companions, so that little Tessa had to stretch her small, dark hands well above her smooth, black head in order to cling as closely as she desired to him.