“May I see her?” exclaimed the man.
“Not now. In the morning you may. Have you seen this man, her son, since he was shot?”
“No, Señor. He gave me the note and told me to slip into the forest as soon as the fight began, so as to get away without any one seeing me. Then I was to stay out of the way until I could get into this camp.”
“Do you know where he stood when he was shot?”
“Yes, Señor.”
“Can you take a party of men there tonight?”
“Yes, Señor; most gladly.”
Afterward, when it came to be known that Heber Smith would live, in spite of his wounds and the hours that he had lain there in the bushes unconscious and uncared for, there was the greatest diversity of opinion as to what had really saved his life.
The surgeons said it was partly their skill, and partly the superb constitution that years of work on a New England farm had given to the young man. His mother believed that he had been spared for her sake. Heber Smith himself always said it was his mother’s care that saved his life, while Juan never had the least doubt that the young soldier had been protected solely by a marvellous “anting-anting” which he himself had slipped unsuspected into the American soldier’s blouse that day, before he had left him. As soon as she knew that her son would live, Mrs. Smith started for Washington, carrying with her papers which made it possible for her to be allowed to plead her case there as she had pleaded it in Manila. A pardon was sent back, as fast as wire and steamer and wire again could convey it. Heber Smith wears the uniform of a second lieutenant, now, won for bravery in action since he went back into the service; and every one who knew her in the Philippines, cherishes the memory of Mrs. Hannah Smith; Nurse.