An American Part 12

"Father in heaven," she thought, "look down in mercy on this soul about to come before You for Your judgment. Have pity on his faults for they were very many ... have mercy on him, for his sins were very heavy in his human life. He did not know the way to go, dear Father ... he could not see the steps at all. Have pity on him for he will have need of pity such as only You can give to him. Amen."

And when she lifted up her face again, good Father Felix stood beside her, crucifix in hand. His head was also bowed in silent prayer for he had witnessed many earthly deaths and knew, at once, that Manuello, as he had been known in human life, had pa.s.sed beyond all human judgment and gone on to his reward or punishment in another world where everything that he had done upon the earth would be accounted for by him and him alone; the good Priest knew, however, that G.o.d is good as well as just and he remembered Manuello's ignorance and superst.i.tion, too, and hoped that, after he'd been purged of earthly sins by deep repentance, he would come into the light that is G.o.d's Smile and shines for all who seek it honestly, no matter what their sins on earth have been, but only after long and terrible remorse for harm that they have done while in the body that G.o.d gave them to use and not abuse.

The road that leads into the light that is G.o.d's Smile is often hedged about by thorns and bitter herbs instead of delicate and fragrant flowers; sometimes poisonous reptiles lurk along the way and strive to strike their fangs within the heart of him who toils there; sometimes, human pa.s.sions guide a strong man into devious and sinful acts as Manuello had been guided, more than once; he'd yielded to them just because he had not learned the way to handle them and they had mastered him and made of him their slave instead of being what he ordered them to be; he'd thrown the remnant of his human life into the balance in the cause he really loved ... the cause of freedom for his native land.

And Ruth and Father Felix thought of him as of a patriot only as they stood beside the cot on which his lifeless body lay; they covered up his face as gently as if they had not known of any sin committed by the hands now lying still and cold and helpless ... they closed his staring eyes as softly as they would have closed the eyes of any human being who will read these words had he or she been left for them to care for when the soul had left its earthly tenement; disembodied Spirits often linger near to such as these who stood beside that cot, for they know that they are like to them in very many ways, though yet abiding in a human frame ... they know that such as Ruth and Father Felix feel the same, sweet, almost holy joy that comes to those who meet and make welcome the ones who leave the earth-plane, newly dead; though death, I trust, is only just the change that frees a soul from earthly burdens and releases it from earthly darkness, so that it may climb, when it is purged of earthly sins, into the light that is the Smile of G.o.d and shines for all who seek it earnestly.

I do not think that there can be an everlasting h.e.l.l except for those who wish to dwell in darkness. I do not think there can be perpetual punishment except for those who do not wish to climb beyond it. Ruth and Father Felix felt that this was so, although the good Priest tried to think far otherwise, and, yet, deep down within his inner consciousness, he felt that G.o.d, although He is so just, yet pities those who err and welcomes all who wish to put their sins behind them in the path they find themselves upon, no matter whether they may find that path upon the earthly plane or on a higher one. They turned away from that white cot with almost G.o.d-like pity in their inmost hearts for him who lay there, or for him who had just left his body lying there upon that little cot.

Ruth sought Estrella so that she might not, again, behold the face of him, who, for the love of her, had done a fearful crime; she wished to save the girl for she had been as innocent of wrong as she, herself, had been; both had been led away by human pa.s.sion, it is true, but led within the bounds of human law, and, so, according to that human law, neither one was culpable ... the man, alone, had sinned, and whether it had been because he had been stronger, every way, than were the women in the case, we cannot judge. 'Tis G.o.d alone must judge us all, and may He guide us all, at last, into the light that is His holy Smile.

CHAPTER XVII

When Ruth had left the cot where Manuello died, she, first, found Estrella and told her what had happened after she had gone, and, then, as she had liberty to go where she desired, she started out, just as the dusk was falling, to drive along an unknown road, which as she thought must lead away from the battle-field; she felt secure for armed men of her own race and nation were patrolling all the roads surrounding the hospital; the freshness of the coming night appealed to her and, under its enticing influence, she went much farther than she meant to do; her horses often shied at little heaps that seemed to take on most fantastic shapes with the increasing darkness.

She knew full well of what these little heaps had been made up, and, yet, surrounded as she was by horror, she did not feel afraid, for she was lifted up by patriotic fervor and a great desire to help where help of her was needed as were so many of the Red Cross nurses whom she met; splendid women volunteered their services as nurses during the progress of the Spanish-American war, and wore, with pride and reverence, the brilliant cross that indicated what the calling they had chosen was; Ruth Wakefield served her country with her might and wore her uniform as proudly and conscientiously as any General could; she drove along that lonely, unknown road as quietly and fearlessly as if her horses trotted over the finest boulevard in some populous city of her own United States and firmly held within her strong and steady hands the lines that guided the high-lifed team she had secured for her own use since coming to take charge of the hospital which she had endowed with her own funds.

Suddenly and without warning, her team was startled by a man who rose to his full height and stood erect and tall beside the road as if he'd risen from the heaps of dead that lay beside the way; the horses soon became unmanageable and overturned the vehicle, so that Ruth suddenly found herself thrown against a slight embankment lining the road, while her frightened team turned back toward the hospital; her first thought was of them, but, remembering that, only a few miles back, she had pa.s.sed one of the patrols, she hoped the team would be secured and taken into safety; then, shudderingly, she realized that she was all alone in a strange and hostile neighborhood, and, acting on a sudden impulse, she hastily climbed over the embankment as she thought she heard a noise approaching on the road; she turned and started back but kept herself concealed as much as possible behind the friendly embankment.

As she proceeded she began to feel a sort of faintness, almost amounting to nausea, creeping over her and dreaded the long walk to the hospital, but decided to go on until she saw an armed man dressed in the uniform of the United States army; she wondered, at first, why she felt faint and almost sick, and, then, she realized that the offensive odors that a.s.sailed her sensitive olfactory nerves were those that rise when material bodies have been deprived of the higher life that gave them animation ... that the horrors of a b.l.o.o.d.y battle-field surrounded her, and, as she advanced slowly and with dreadful antic.i.p.ation ... as she even stumbled over more than one unconscious form, that, only a few short hours before, had been as full of bounding life as she was then, she thought of what the suffering must be of those who lay among the dead, perhaps for weary, pain-filled hours, alive yet helpless; the thought was a terrific one for any tender-hearted woman to entertain, and Ruth had always been particularly thoughtful of the comfort of anyone who happened to be near to her, and, so, she soon became enthused with the idea that she might search among the heaps of dead and find, maybe, someone who lived and might, if he were rescued, yet be happy in the world she lived in, and, so, she softly called to see if anyone could hear her voice and guide her to the object of her search:

"Are any here who are in need of earthly help?" she asked. "If any here can hear my voice, pray answer me and tell me where to come to find you."

She waited for an answer but none came, at first; and then it seemed to her as if she heard a far-off whisper far away ... she listened breathlessly ... it came again and, then, she followed it until she found the one from whom the whisper came.

He lay among a heap of bodies tossed about as if they had found death together; one whose body lay across his own, Ruth lifted, though she shuddered while she did it, for the stark, stiff form was that of one who'd, only lately, been as full of life as she was then; she laid it softly down and sought the one whose whisper she had heard; her hand crept up, along a rough and blood-soaked uniform, until it found a face and found it warm with sentient life; she was electrified by joy at finding one who lived among the dead, and hastened, then, to separate him from the other bodies lying all around him; it was as if they'd followed after him ... as if he'd been a leader of the rest ... for he was well in front of all of them and yet they were so near that, when they fell, they fell together, all around the one whose life she sought to save.

She was intent on saving life and did not shrink although her gentle hand found many b.l.o.o.d.y wounds in searching for the one from which his life-blood flowed full fast; she found the place, at last ... a deep flesh-wound that touched an artery in his right arm ... she had a silken scarf about her throat, and, wrapping this about the arm above the wound, she made a tourniquet by using a small surgical instrument which she always carried for that purpose in the pocket of her nurse's ap.r.o.n which she still wore; this stopped the flow of blood at once, and, as the brachial artery was untouched, the man gained strength enough to whisper:

"Tender Heart ... I'm going to name you right away. Tender Heart, how did you happen here ... at night ... alone?"

"I think I came to find you," answered Ruth. "I thought my horses ran away and dumped me on the ground, but, now, I think I came here just to find you and to bind that poor arm. Now I'll go to bring a.s.sistance to you just as soon as I can do so."

"Tender Heart," he whispered, for his voice was growing fainter, "if I should not be here when you come again, good-bye.... G.o.d bless and keep you safe from harm."

She knew the meaning of the words and almost flew along, although she often stumbled as she went among the bodies lying there upon the blood-soaked ground; she reached the hospital at last ... the time seemed long to her ... and, there, in front of it, stood her two frightened horses, looking all around as if in search of her; she soothed them with her rea.s.suring voice, and then she found a vehicle adapted to the use she wished to put it to, and two a.s.sistants from the hospital staff; thus equipped, she took the lines again and drove along the road again but with a different object than the one she'd had before; turning off the road, she found the object of her search and the a.s.sistants lifted him upon the stretcher they had brought and, very soon, the man lay, white and spent with loss of blood, but conscious, in a little cot, and Ruth, forgetting her own needs, stood there beside it.

"Tender Heart," said her new patient, after he had been refreshed and bandaged thoroughly, "Tender Heart, I'm very grateful to you. Let me introduce myself to you ... your name, you see, I know. I am one of the five men who answered Roosevelt when he asked for volunteers to follow him to gain the very top of all the ridges that cropped up about San Juan hill." He smiled, "I think you know me, now, as I know you. We're both Americans.... I know that, too ... we both love Teddy.... I could see your eyes flash at the mention of his name. He is a man among men. I wish you could have heard him when he said 'I did not think you would refuse to follow where I would lead.' I stood beside his horse as he said those sad words ... the others followed, then. They followed Teddy up that hill ... they took it, too. We won the day. The Spaniards fled before us. You know me, now," he ended, whimsically, "just as well as I know you."

"Yes," said Ruth, "I know you, now, and you know me ... we're both Americans and both of us love Teddy and are proud of him and what he did this day. And, now, you'd better go to sleep and rest up for we still have work to do ... the Spaniard is not conquered, yet. They'll need us both and so we must do all we can to keep our strength. I'm going, now.

Good-bye until tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Tender Heart," he said. "Goodnight."

Ruth went, then, to the little cottage where she found old Mage and Tid-i-wats awaiting her; Estrella stayed on duty in the hospital where she had learned to do her work with neatness and dispatch.

Ruth always told old Mage the happenings of the day as they were seated at their evening meal; her old nurse loved to listen to her animated account of every little thing that she remembered that she'd seen or heard about; she had an unusual memory of small details and a most graphic power of description; these she employed to interest and amuse her old nurse who had been alone with little Tid-i-wats, almost all day; in recounting recent events she pa.s.sed as lightly as possible over the occurrences of the battle-field where she had found and rescued one who had been left as dead among the lifeless bodies of the slain; she did not wish to shock old Mage too much and, somehow, she did not wish to speak of him she'd rescued ... somehow, she feared that her auditor, who was always eager for romantic episodes would, maybe, choose to enter into rhapsodies concerning the possibilities of her own future if she talked too much about the handsome stranger, for remembering how he'd looked resting, as she'd seen him last, upon the little cot, his dark-blue eyes regarding her with whimsical tenacity, she freely acknowledged to herself that he was handsome and distinguished in appearance; so she changed the subject when old Mage began to question her too closely about him, and, in the changing of the subject, the rosy flush that was so much a part of her expression, crept over her fair face and lighted up her deep gray eyes until her countenance was glorified, as if her inner consciousness shone through her delicate and expressive features; old Mage observed this blush and speculated on its cause and wondered whether Ruth had found another man more worthy of affection than the one she hoped she had almost forgotten.

When Ruth returned, the next day, to the hospital, she went among the little cots until she came to that one where he lay ... the man she'd helped to rescue from a slow and very painful death; she found him lying wide awake and very thoughtful:

"Tender Heart," he said, "Tender Heart, you've come to me, again; I've longed for you and now you're here beside me."

She rested one of her soft hands upon the cot and his hand searched for hers and found it; then their fingers intertwined and clung together for a moment only, but the memory of that hand-clasp lingered with them forever after; it was as if their very souls had intermingled in that clasping of their hands ... it was as if their spirits swung, together, out ... far out ... beyond the things of earth ... and, then, still farther out and on and up into eternal peace and lasting joy and gladness ... it was as if they had been translated into disembodied spirits while they still remained on earth ... as if a higher and a holier love than any earthly love can ever be had sought them out and found them there within that shadowy hospital ... it was as if they had gone on into the astral world and left their human bodies where they seemed to be themselves ... as if they had been separated from the material surroundings that seemed to be about them.

Ruth blushed until the rosy flush crept up to her brown hair that seemed to frame her face, and looked at the soft fingers that his hand had held and then she smoothed his pillow with them as she said:

"I'm very glad to find that you are better than you were last night. I surely hope that you'll recover very rapidly. I'm told that men like you will soon again be needed. It is reported that another battle will be fought not very far from here."

"I surely hope," he said and said it very earnestly, "I surely hope that I'll be able to take my part in whatever engagement is entered into by our troops, and if, perchance, I should be left again upon a battle-field, I trust that you will come and find me, Tender Heart, I trust that you will find me and, if it pleases you, I hope you'll keep me, Tender Heart."

She blushed again at that and simply said:

"Now you must go to sleep and rest and gain what strength you can, for men like you," she ended, archly, "for men like you are almost always needed very badly."

Ruth Wakefield was no flirt and never had been one; she was quickwitted and she had a wide command of language, and she smiled as she went on upon her rounds among the little cots when she remembered that neither of them really knew the other's name; she liked the name he'd given to her ... she liked the way he said it ... she liked the fine expression of his speaking countenance ... she liked his eyes ... she liked his manly way of meeting whatever came to him with courage and with cheerful readiness to serve the country they both loved ... her heart went out to him in very many ways, and, then, she looked again at those soft fingers that his hand had held ... she seemed to feel again the subtle, unexplainable, electric thrill that crept through all her being at his touch ... that seemed to answer to the look within his eyes ... the accent on his tongue, and, then, she blushed again and went about her work within that shadowy hospital where many strong men lay in bitter pain with renewed courage and with a new and hither-to unknown tenderness.

She stood, at length, beside a cot whereon lay one whose face was hidden while surgeons dressed a gaping wound he had received upon his head; Ruth stopped and gave her scissors that she always carried in the pocket of her ap.r.o.n to the one who needed them for use in cutting away the dark hair that grew along the edges of the wound; it clung in tiny ringlets and was black as night and very soft and thick.... Ruth could not help remembering, that her hands had often strayed among such soft and dark and clinging ringlets, but she shuddered as she thought of them and of Estrella who had deemed herself to be the only woman Victorio Colenzo had ever loved, and, then, she wondered if all men were like to that one she had married thinking him to be as he professed to be ... judging him to be as truthful as she was ... she wondered if the man she had just left would be like that under similar circ.u.mstances ... he was ready in his hints at tenderness ... was he, too, perhaps, a gay deceiver?

While her thoughts were rambling on in this way, her eyes were idly looking at the man who lay upon his face and writhed under the st.i.tches that the surgeons took to close the gaping wound upon his head; he turned his face an instant toward her and she recognized him as a Spanish officer she'd seen in San Domingo under most distressing circ.u.mstances; she had gone, as she had often done before, to minister to the needs of those who were among the poorer cla.s.ses in the village, one day, and found before a hovel a most richly caparisoned horse held by an orderly; inside, there knelt upon the floor a young and pretty peasant girl; she was imploring this same officer who lay upon that little cot not to make her go with him to be his helpless slave; Ruth rescued her and told the man to go his way in no uncertain language; now, he lay there dressed as if he were an American soldier; she recognized him perfectly for his face had often haunted her, it was so sinister and devilish.

She sought out Father Felix, then, and told him what she had discovered, and he took what steps were necessary in the matter, for he who'd named Ruth Tender Heart had named her very well indeed; it seemed to her she could not bear to turn this Spanish spy over to the proper authorities, and, yet, she knew it was her duty to do that very thing, so the good Priest helped her to do her duty as he'd promised her he would, and, after that, there was a wall at sunrise and a platoon of armed men, and, then, that Spanish spy soon disappeared.

CHAPTER XVIII

We intimated when we first began this tale that Father Felix was a man to be admired, not only for his strong religious zeal, but for his great virility and patriotic fervor.

Never had he shown these qualities more fully than during the naval battle of Santiago which engagement took place shortly after the events narrated in the last chapter; there was work to do on land as well as on the water at that crucial time; more than 18,000 helpless persons ...

men, women and children ... marched out of the beleagued city seeking safety in the open country surrounding it; among these were many wealthy women of the higher cla.s.s whose delicate silken garments were bedraggled and torn by the hardships of the journey which it was necessary to make on foot over muddy roads and through barbed wires which had been stretched irregularly all around Santiago and its vicinity by the Spanish soldiery for the purpose of turning back the invading Americans who were advancing upon them.

Among these women there was one who reached the hospital over which Ruth Wakefield presided; she was bespattered and weary and sick at heart, but there was a light in her dark eyes and a steadiness in her firm hand that appealed to Ruth at once and made her single this one woman from among all who came to her that day for help; as soon as she had changed her apparel and washed the grime of travel from her person, she asked to be allowed to a.s.sist the others who were at work among the little cots that were now filled with suffering humanity; she took her place so quietly that it seemed to those among whom she moved that she had almost always been right there and would always continue to be there; Estrella liked her from the first of their acquaintance and the older woman found the girl so pleasing that whenever she could do so, she gave her hand a little squeeze or patted her upon her shoulder to make her know that they two were congenial and going on, together, toward the same loved goal; this silent a.s.sociation became at once a bond between these two who, in their nurse's uniforms, looked enough alike to be twin sisters ... they had the same dark eyes and sensitive and drooping lips ... they had the same fair skins, although Estrella had been tanned by more outside exposure than the other had ... they moved in the same way and both were tall and straight and lithe and quick; Ruth noticed them together and at once began to wonder why they looked so much alike ... then she thought of what Estrella'd told her as to what she knew of her own family, and, immediately, Ruth began to speculate and piece together little circ.u.mstances and then she soon began to hope that poor Estrella, maybe, might, in this way, find her own people; so she asked some kindly questions of the woman who had come to them that day, and she found that she had had a little sister, long ago ... a little sister who had disappeared and whom they'd mourned as dead for many years; Ruth told her all she knew about the girl ... all except her intimate a.s.sociation with the man whom, she, herself, had married; she did not feel that she could speak of him to this dark stranger ...

anyway, it would not matter, now, and if Estrella wished to speak about it later on, then she could do so; they called the girl, then, and found she had a little dainty cross of gold that she had always worn about her neck.... Manuello's mother had preserved it for her while she was an infant thinking it might prove the child's ident.i.ty, so that the ones who'd cared for her might be profited thereby, and, since she knew about it, she, herself, had held it sacred as the only link that bound her to her unknown family ... and so it proved, indeed, the link that proved her as the sister of the lady who had come to them that day from the beleaguered city of Santiago.

Estrella's blood, it seemed, was Spanish ... she had descended from the ones who knew the roses of Castile ... she'd always seemed far different from the peasants among whom she'd lived until she met Ruth Wakefield who recognized in her a higher strain ... a higher nature ...

than she found in any of the peasants whom she met in San Domingo; old Mage, even, looked upon Estrella differently than on the other servants whom she always treated with great condescension, for she felt herself above the most of them as she was always nearer to her dear young lady than any of them were; Ruth trusted her with Tid-i-wats, for one thing, which separated her from all the rest, for Tid-i-wats, was most abrupt in very many ways, and, sometimes, even went so far as to just sink her long, sharp claws right through whatever garments anybody wore, so that they found and often even penetrated the skin beneath the garments; she would do this deed in such a loving way that many who were sadly scratched by her would try to smile and take this punishment as if it were but joy and gladness ... old Mage squirmed sometimes, 'tis true, beneath this discipline that Tid-i-wats gave very freely, but she never put her down or turned against her,--only saying:

"Tid-i-wats! Good land! Your blessed little claws are very sharp indeed," and, then, she'd often turn to Ruth and add, "I tell you Tid-i-wats is just as young and spry as she ever was ... no one would ever think how old she is if he could feel her claws."

When Estrella found that she was not alone, but had a family, and a loving, wealthy sister, old Mage was very glad indeed ... she'd found the girl a little in her way for many reasons; Ruth deferred to her a little, pitying her so much, and old Mage knew that if Ruth pitied anybody very much she might, in time, begin to love the person whom she put her tender pity on, and, then, to the old nurse, Estrella always brought up the memory of the man who had deceived her ... made her think him to be far better than he'd ever been ... and, so, altogether, Estrella's good fortune pleased old Mage in very many pleasant ways.

To say that Ruth was glad to have Estrella find her people was to put the case too lightly altogether; she was far too unselfish not to rejoice in her good fortune even though her going might mean great human loneliness for her: she had in her own inner consciousness a kind of spiritual and lasting strength on which she always leaned when outside companionship failed her in any way ... she never was alone although she often seemed to be so ... in fact, Ruth Wakefield often found herself to be alone among a crowd of human beings ... it seemed to her their many diverse thoughts disturbed the peace of mind she always longed to have ... her pity was so great ... her sympathy so broad ... and sorrows and sore trials are so common to the entire race of men and women ...

that she seldom found much joy among the people whom she met; she gave most liberally to all she came in contact with ... she gave encouragement and comfort and sympathy and help ... but seldom did she find a human being who could give her anything at all for any length of time, at least: