Crossing an open square, in which appear a number of bronze statues, Don Felipe conducts me back to the café, where we partake of refreshment, and arrange the various items of news which we have collected during our afternoon's ramble over the town.
Don Felipe advises me to dispatch the frail bark which had brought me from Cuba, and return by the mail steamer which has just arrived from St. Thomas, and is announced to sail for Cuba early next morning. As this is by far the speediest way of getting home, I follow my friend's advice, and accept his invitation to repose for the night at his humble dwelling.
The rest of the day and evening is passed very agreeably.
The British consul—a fine military-looking old fellow—invites me to dine with him and his charming family. It is pleasant to speak and hear spoken one's native tongue again, after being comparatively deaf and dumb in that language for nearly five years. It is still more delightful to feel at home with one's countrymen and countrywomen in a strange land, and thus, when I take leave of my hospitable English host and his family, I sincerely regret, with them, the brevity of my visit.
I rise at a very early hour next morning, and, accompanied by Don Felipe, I take my passage on board the 'Pájaro del Oceano,' that being the name of the steamer which is to convey me to Cuba.
The naval agent of the English mail company, who is a young Cuban named Fernandez, salutes me as I embark, for we had been slightly acquainted with one another in Santiago. Before taking leave of Don Felipe, I introduce him to the mail agent, for by the latter's means I hope for the future to ensure the safe delivery of my dispatches from Porto Rico and other islands. Don Fernandez touches at the port of Santiago at least once a month, and if he can be pressed into the Trigger's service, he will be invaluable to that newspaper.
The mail agent has a compartment on board all to himself, and invites me to occupy one of the comfortable berths which it contains. He is in other ways so civil and obliging, that his company is altogether most congenial during the voyage, and before our arrival in Cuba, we have become the closest of friends.
I am alarmed to find that our steamer will touch at other ports before reaching its destination; but Fernandez assures me that the voyage will occupy much less time than it would if it were made in a sailing vessel, especially in the present somewhat stormy weather. In short, if all goes well, we shall sight the Morro Castle in less than five days.
In sorting his correspondence, the mail agent discovers some important missives addressed to me. These, which he kindly hands to me, I find come from the Trigger's agents in St. Thomas, Jamaica, and other islands; and contain some interesting intelligence respecting the projected purchase by the United States of the Bay of Samana, together with the particulars of an earthquake near Callao, a scheme for a floating dock at Kingston, Jamaica, and other topics equally interesting to Americans. These matters, together with my Porto Rico news, I proceed to arrange in concise form, for immediate dispatch by telegraph, on my arrival at Santiago.
Friend Fernandez very much excites my curiosity by exhibiting the mail bags from Southampton. One of these bags is labelled 'Havana,' the other 'Santiago de Cuba,' and as they contain the correspondence from Europe, doubtless letters and newspapers addressed to me and Nicasio Rodriguez y Boldú are among the number. But the mouths of both sacks—which make my mouth 'water'—are securely tied and sealed, and the mail agent dares not venture to open them, until they have been deposited at the Cuban post-office.