Everybody's curiosity being satisfied, everybody, save the newly-married pair and a few black domestics, is wished a 'muy buenas noches,' or, more correctly speaking (for the hour is 4 A.M.), a very good morning.
CHAPTER XXX.
CUBANS IN NEW YORK.
The Morro Castle again—Summer and Winter—Cuban Refugees—Filibusters—'Los Laborantes' of New York and their Work—American Sympathisers.
I am a prisoner in the Morro Castle again, and this time my fellow captives are more numerous. We occupy separate apartments. The chamber which has been allotted to me is considerably smaller than that of the fortress at Santiago. So small that the floor measures barely four feet in width, and seated in my narrow cot, my head approaches within a few inches of the ceiling. Don Benigno, his wife, his unmarried daughter, and the pretty Ermiña, together with a score of Cuban families, are all imprisoned in the same stronghold, whence there is no escape. For we are encompassed on every side by a moat so deep and so wide that no engineering skill would avail to connect us with terra firma.
This is, however, not the Havana Morro, nor is it the fortress at Santiago de Cuba; but an American steamer called the 'Morro Castle' and bound for New York, where—wind and weather permitting—we shall all arrive, in little more than four days!
Although the month is January, the atmosphere is still sultry and oppressive; so much so that most of the passengers prefer to sleep on deck. But on the morning of the third day of our voyage, there is a perceptible change in the temperature. The passengers are seen to shiver and to huddle together in warm corners of the cabin. Everybody has exchanged his or her summer clothing for warmer vestments. The ladies appear no more in light muslin dresses, and without any head covering. The gentlemen have eschewed their suits of white drill and Panama hats, and have assumed heavy over-coats and flannel under-clothing. It is a 'nipping and an eager air,' closely resembling winter, and reminding everybody of the fact, that in one short hour we have tripped lightly from the perpetual summer of the tropics into the coldest season of the north. Some sea water which had been hauled up in a bucket half an hour ago was perfectly tepid, and now when the bucket is lowered and raised we are amazed to find that the contents are icy cold!
Next day the liquid in our water jugs is discovered to be in a freezing condition, and fires have been lighted in all the stoves. But our chilly Creoles derive little or no warmth from these artificial means, although they are swathed in garments ten inches deep.
Great is the joy when the 'Morro Castle' at last sails into the wide and picturesque harbour of the great American city, and when we have safely landed, satisfied the Custom-house officers, and are finally lodged in a comfortable hotel in Broadway, our happiness is complete.
Numbers of Cuban families are already encamped in the hotel which Don Benigno has selected for himself, family and friend, and at the table d'hôte where we take our first American meal, the conversation is held exclusively in the Spanish language. Don Benigno is delighted to find himself among his countrymen again, and as the city is over-run with Cuban refugees, he soon meets many of his old friends. Some of them tell him that, having had their property confiscated, and being too old to take part in the revolution, they intend to remain in America, where they hope to improve their fortunes; while the more able-bodied are recruiting with a view to certain secret expeditions to Cuba.