"There's Teddy!" cried Rollo, with a feeble attempt at waving his hat. "Oh, how good it is to see him again!"
"But my boy! Where is my boy?" cried the distracted mother, crowding her way to the very front rank of spectators. As she did so, Colonel Roosevelt passed close to her, and she clutched his arm.
"Oh, sir, my boy! Where is my boy? Do not tell me he is dead!"
"It is Mrs. Norris, Colonel," explained Rollo Van Kyp, pressing forward, "and she is disappointed at not seeing the Lieutenant."
"Thank God, my dear fellow, that you are alive!" exclaimed the Colonel, grasping Van Kyp's hand. Then, in a lower tone, he added, "We had to leave poor Norris behind. He was too ill to be brought on a transport, but he may come at any time on a hospital-ship. Here is a note for his family from one of the hospital nurses. My dear madam," he added, turning to Mrs. Norris, "your son is alive, but detained for a time at Santiago. If you will excuse me now, I will see you again very shortly, and tell you of all the fine things he has done."
With this the embarrassed Colonel passed on, thankful at having thus concluded one of the interviews with anxious parents that he so dreaded.
For a moment Mrs. Norris stared after him in speechless agony; for the mother's keen ear had overheard his low-spoken words to Rollo Van Kyp, and she knew that her boy had been left in Cuba too ill to be moved. Then she uttered a moan, and fainted in her husband's arms.
A little later, when the saddened group had been driven back to the cottage that had been so happily prepared for the reception of their soldier, they read Spence Cuthbert's note, hastily written as the Rough Riders were embarking at Santiago. It told of the terrible suffering that had impelled her to remain behind when the Gray Nun went north, of her disappointment at not hearing anything from Ridge, and how she had at last discovered him in the Santiago hospital, to which she had been transferred immediately after the surrender.
"I did not dare write sooner," she continued, "for we had no hope that he could live; but now he is again conscious, and has recognized me. The doctors talk of sending him north as soon as he can be moved; but, remembering the horrors of the Seneca and the Concho, I dread the voyage for him even more than I do the pestilent air of this awful hospital. In fact, I am in despair, and know not what is best to be done."
"I know!" exclaimed Rollo Van Kyp, as Dulce, with tear-filled eyes, finished reading this pitiful note. "He must be brought back on the Nun. Mr. Norris, she leaves New York to-morrow with a fresh lot of nurses for Santiago, and if you will only take the run down on her you can bring the dear old chap back in comfort."