The remainder of the journey is quickly covered, and as Jack reins up at La Quinta de Quesada, Don Manuel comes out and greets him cordially.
“Welcome, Senor Ashley. You are quite a stranger. We had begun to fear that the Spanish press censors had suppressed you.” Then, dropping his voice to a cautious undertone: “Any news from the field?”
“Yes, and rather good news. It is reported in Santiago that your yacht, the Pearl of the Antilles, engaged a Spanish ship of war yesterday, and that El Terredo, after lying alongside, fought a desperate and winning battle on the decks of the enemy’s vessel.”
“Bueno!” Don Quesada’s eyes light up with pleasure. “Ah, Senor Ashley, there is a fighter after your own American heart. If we had a thousand such men we should drive the Spanish into the sea and off our loved island forever.”
“I was passed on the road from Santiago by your daughter,” remarks Jack, as he sits down in front of a brimming glass. “Will she be absent long?”
“For the entire evening. Surely you have not overlooked the grand ball to be given to-night by the new captain-general; a gathering of beauty and of chivalry, to express his supreme contempt of the insignificance of the Cuban cause,” says Don Quesada, with faint irony.
“By Jove! I had overlooked it. The senorita was accompanied by another lady. May I inquire her name?”
“Certainly. She is Mrs. Isabel Harding.”
“I thought so,” mutters Jack. Then:
“What is her business here?”