Under the Star-Spangled Banner: A Tale of the Spanish-American War

by F. S. Brereton

"I was wondering what we could do to prove our identity, and the innocent intention we had in coming here. José d'Arousta, you may be sure, will not let such a golden opportunity of revenge slip by without making the utmost use of it. He will proclaim us as spies, and if you will only take the trouble to look at matters as they appear to others, you will admit that that is the most natural conclusion for any Spaniard to arrive at. War is declared, and, indeed, exists, between Spain and America; and no doubt the whole of the island of Cuba, including the towns, is under martial law. You are the son of a naturalized American, and I his overseer. We are discovered at night in Santiago, and when called upon to surrender, we fly from the soldiers. Naturally, we shall be put down as spies who have come to see what defensive arrangements have been made, so as to be able to communicate them to our friends. But the letter which your father gave me will exonerate us. It states in clear terms that we are endeavoring to leave for Tampa, and tells for what purpose. Do you see, old boy? We put a spoke in D'Arousta's wheel which I fancy will upset the whole apple-cart, so far as he is concerned."

"Splendid! I am relieved to hear it," cried Gerald. "I'll be honest, and tell you that I was beginning to feel in a blue funk; but now, of course, it will be all right, and we have nothing to fear."

"Ye-e-s, perhaps," Hal answered doubtfully. "But someone will have to pay for that officer's broken nose. I hit him heavily, I can assure you, and fairly laid him out. Hush! The door is opening."

At this moment José d'Arousta pushed his head into the outer room, and signaled to the sergeant.

"Bring in the prisoners," he said in triumphant tones, "and see that you surround them, for these foreigners are capable of playing the maddest tricks, and might throw themselves upon his excellency if you were to relax your watchfulness."

Shouldering their rifles, two of the soldiers grasped Hal and Gerald by the arm; then the others took up their positions in front and behind, and, at an order from the sergeant, the party marched into the room. It was a large, bare compartment, dimly lighted by a single oil lamp standing upon a table in the center. The atmosphere was thick with the fumes of burning oil and stale tobacco smoke, and even a widely opened window failed to clear it and make it more pleasant for those who were there.

Seated behind the table was a middle-aged officer, with stern but not unkindly features. A clerk in military attire stood at the desk beside him, and was taking down a letter at his dictation.

"These are the prisoners, then—the very first we have taken, I understand," said the officer, suddenly looking up and closely scrutinizing Hal and Gerald. "Who are they? Why have they been taken? Where is the evidence?"

"Captain Volaga is the chief witness against these spies," answered José d'Arousta, stepping forward from the shadow, "and I am the next, your excellency. They are known to me as Americans. But it would be better, perhaps, if my brother-in-arms told his tale first."

"Americans! Ah, they look it! Then we will employ their language. We who have lived in these parts soon pick up English, and, if we use it, all will be able to understand. Come, what are their names, and where do they hail from?"