As both were tremendously hungry they could not resist this invitation, and soon they were seated in a broad and cool dining hall and eating the food which was hastily prepared for them. The meal did not take long and by the time it was over Isabel Valois drove around with a comfortable carriage of American manufacture. They climbed in, there was a merry crack of the whip, and off they started in the direction of Havana proper.
Had their minds been at ease, Sam and Darry would have enjoyed that ride thoroughly, for Isabel Valois handled the reins with skill, and the team was a spirited one. She was what Darry called a “jolly” girl, and as they passed along she entertained them with a bright flow of talk, as she pointed out many objects of interest.
“I like the people from the United States,” she said, archly. “And I was so disappointed when Cuba was not taken into the Union. But papa says it is bound to come sooner or later.”
“And it will,” answered Sam. “But tell me,” he went on, “were you at home when Havana was blockaded?”
“To be sure I was, and many were scared to death, for fear the big guns on the warships would bombard our homes. Once, when a wild shot did come this way, all the servants ran down into our cellar and hid in a corner.”
“And weren’t you scared?” asked Darry, with a twinkle in his eye.
“No, I was not. I knew the Americans were our friends and would not hurt us.”
“I am afraid we hurt some Cubans down at Santiago.”
“Oh, that was different. Here it was only a blockade—that was a direct attack.”
The drive into the city of Havana took them past the Fairfax House, and here the boys determined to stop and learn if anything had been seen or heard of Hockley.