"Oh, I hope it won't come to war for us!" exclaimed Grace; "though I should like to have the poor Cubans helped. Just think how dreadful, if Max should be engaged in a naval battle."
"Well, my child, we won't borrow trouble about that," said her father soothingly.
"And I hope there is not much danger, as he is away off in the China seas," said Lucilla, trying to cheer Grace, though she herself had little idea that he would escape taking part if there should be war.
"In case of war, that will hardly excuse him from doing his duty," said their father; "nor would our dear brave boy wish to be excused. But we will all pray that he may be spared injury, if such be the Lord's will."
"Indeed we will, in that case, pour out constant petitions for him—the dear fellow!" said Violet, with emotion. "But, Levis, do you think this will bring on war?"
"It looks very likely to me," replied her husband, sadness perceptible in both his countenance and tones. "And, really, I think it is our duty to interfere for those poor, savagely treated Cubans. I think it is high time that this powerful people undertook their cause."
"And I suppose the Spaniards are already angry with the Americans for sympathizing with those poor, oppressed Cubans," said Lucilla.
"Yes," said her father, "and this awful deed—the blowing up of our grand battleship with its hundreds of sailors—is doubtless an expression of their ill-will."
And that was not the thought of Captain Raymond alone, but of many others as well. The wrongs and sufferings of the Cubans had so touched the hearts of thousands of the Americans that they felt strongly impelled to make some effort to help them to win their freedom; and now this wanton destruction of one of our favorite battleships—and, what was far worse, the lives of nearly three hundred innocent men—so increased their anger and distrust that it could scarcely be restrained. Through all the land of the Americans there was a strong feeling of indignation over the treachery and cruelty of the blow that had destroyed that gallant ship and sacrificed so many innocent lives; but the people were sternly quiet while the Court of Inquiry was making its investigations. They were ready to punish the doers of that dastardly deed, but not without proof of their guilt. For forty days they and their Congress silently awaited the report of the board of naval officers engaged in examining into the evidences of the cause of the destruction of the Maine. Their verdict came at length, but in rather vague form—that, according to the evidence obtainable, the vessel had been destroyed by an explosion against her side from without. So much was clearly proven, but they did not say by whom the evil deed was done. More than a week before that report came in, both Congress and the people had been greatly moved by the speech of Senator Proctor, describing what he had witnessed in Cuba, the scenes of starvation and horror; men, women, and children robbed of their homes, their cattle—all their earthly possessions—driven into the towns and left to starve to death in the streets.