An American Part 9

You _lay_ there, now, and never do you dare to try to fool any more women ... three of us is enough in _this_ neighborhood, anyway."

She drew a long sigh of relief after this speech and hurried out of the cemetery with her empty basket; she had slipped away when she thought no one was observing her and intended to tell Ruth after her return what she had done with the exception of any reference to the ring which, as the reader may have guessed, was the wedding ring that Ruth had, up to this time, kept always on her left hand or in her jewel-case on her little dressing-table before which she always sat when she combed and brushed her long and beautifully luxuriant brown hair; she had taken the ring off the night before, little dreaming that she was touching it for the last time, and sadly laid it among her jewels, thinking of the bright face and laughing dark eyes that had looked so handsome to her when he had put that little ring upon her finger, whispering of his undying love and of the fact that she and she alone was, and had been since his first meeting with her, the entire mistress of his. .h.i.ther-to untouched heart; she had even shed a few tears over the little ring, then, and old Mage, silently witnessing this fact, determined that she should never again have that opportunity; so, after Ruth was sweetly sleeping, the old woman slipped into her room and removed the object of her scorn; she lay awake almost all of that night, planning how to secrete or do away with the visible bond that had united her dear young Lady to an unworthy mate; at length, toward daylight, it seemed to old Mage as if someone had whispered to her what to do with the ring so that poetic justice would be done to the first youthful pa.s.sion of Ruth Wakefield's innocent life; acting upon this suggestion, for so it seemed to her, feeling sure that she had solved the problem so nearly affecting the life of the one she loved best in all her world, she carried out the plan she instantly formed, and, while she was a very weary old woman, from lack of sleep and unusual exercise, when she again reached her much-loved home, she had within her spirit a sense of satisfaction that was beyond anything she had felt since Ruth had married the man whose grave she had, that morning, visited; she felt, in some sense, to blame for the marriage, as she had not strenuously opposed it, and found herself much in the position she used to occupy when Ruth had been a little tot and she had allowed her to do some small thing of which she knew her parents would not approve.

Now, she felt relieved because, as it seemed to her, she had sort of evened up matters, and, after informing Ruth that she had gone to the grave and put the roses there, she never intended to speak of Victorio Colenzo again, and, as far as possible, she intended to rid Ruth of his memory; with this thought in mind, she picked up many little memontos of him which she found lying about the place ... a guitar here and a ribbon there ... a photograph, perhaps, showing the dashing young Cuban in military dress, which much became him, or mounted on a fine horse which he, for the moment, had secured the use of ... even in one picture he appeared standing, proudly, behind Ruth as if protecting her; all of these and anything else that old Mage could find that would inevitably remind Ruth of the man she had married, she destroyed ruthlessly and with inward glee; her object in all this was, really, to protect her dear young Lady, and, yet, at the same time, she had as nearly a fiendish delight as it was possible for her ever to entertain, in, as she navely put it to herself, "getting even" with the handsome fellow who had "pulled the wool over" her own eyes as well as the brighter and stronger ones of her young Lady.

Ruth Wakefield was never enlightened as to this little by-play, but she reaped the benefits of it in many ways, for it is true that visible reminders are necessary to a great many people, and, even the strongest minds are affected by the sudden sight of something reminding them of some object formerly dear to them; it will give almost anyone a start to come, unexpectedly, upon a picture or almost any tangible token of someone once dear, no matter what may have happened to take away that quality; lovers, by preserving evidence, like withered flowers, pictures, songs and poems, often lay up for themselves future agony of spirit ... the objects that are so dear to them may turn about and rend their inmost souls; full many times, it were better had the love-tokens been destroyed in some such way as old Mage did away with the visible memories attached to the objects which her eager hands closed upon; this secret employment, necessarily long drawn out, as she did not wish to be discovered in her labor of love, took up a good deal of the extra time she found herself in possession of on account of the presence of Estrella in the home, for the girl took up many household duties, gladly and naturally, knowing that in work she could, to some extent, forget her own sorrow, and wishing to lighten the labors of old Mage who was always kind to her.

After the information imparted to Ruth by Father Felix, regarding national affairs, she was very thoughtful and very busy, for there were very many ways in which she could make preparations to begin the duties which she expected to take up as soon as occasion would require them of her; she studied into trained nursing and found a sort of school in Havana to which she took Estrella and where they both learned many essential things pertaining to the calling which they were both trying to fit themselves for; in many ways they were both better prepared for the work of caring for the sick and wounded than many women would ever become, no matter how much they would be trained, for they were both earnest and helpful, tender-hearted and serious; in all wars, there are women who seek the familiar a.s.sociation with men which the calling of a nurse entails, with no better object than just the proximity to masculine humanity involved, but there are, also, such women as Ruth Wakefield who had no thought in the matter except to help where help of her should anywhere be needed ... to succor those who were not to blame for the accidents that had befallen them ... who were, indeed, ent.i.tled to the tenderest consideration on account of the very accidents which had laid them on the clean, white cots that are stretched along the wards and in the private rooms of the great, shadowy hospitals where tender women bend above the beds of pain and minister to those who lie there, suffering and weak, both in body and spirit.

On one of these numerous visits to Havana, Ruth met a man who was an old friend of her father's who was much interested in her lonely life and who came out to her home to consult with her regarding the prospects of her being surrounded by the din and pomp of actual warfare; at first, as he viewed the situation she was placed in, he felt as Father Felix had as to her staying in Cuba, in her immediate future, but listened to her patriotic resolve with high enthusiasm, as he was intensely patriotic himself and loved to think that she was every inch an American although her life had, almost all of it, been spent away from her native land.

Just as this man was leaving her home, one day, for he had been making frequent visits there, he turned to look at her as she stood between the pillar-like gate-posts at the entrance to the drive that led to her residence; the picture she made, standing there in the glow of the setting sun, lingered in his memory long after he had ceased to see her as he saw her, then; Ruth was very fond of flowers and often wore a rose tucked in among the coils of her beautiful, shining hair; that evening, her selection among her flowers for this use had been a bunch of English violets; the deep blue of the dainty blossoms accentuated the clear gray color of her star-like eyes ... her healthy skin reflected the sunset after-glow which was beginning to appear in the western sky; her small mouth, with its cute corners, puckered up as if, she used to say when a child, it had been too large to begin with and had been shirred at the corners to make it the desired size, registered each change of her inner feelings; her dress was elegant, yet simple, and her poise was splendid; there are few earthly women who have sufficient poise of manner and of nervous strength; most of them become excited and distraught under slight stress of circ.u.mstances, but Ruth Wakefield was an exception to this very general rule; there were very few things that could shake her from her serenity of purpose and intention; one of these things was being a witness to any injustice ... an indignity put upon a weaker creature by a stronger one, whether the creature be gifted with the power to express its feelings in human speech or not; those who knew her best, were well aware of her strong regard for the rights of so-called "dumb animals" ... her loving sympathy went out to every old or poorly cared for horse she saw; she had been heard to say that she would dearly love to have a good pasture, with waving gra.s.ses and running water and sheltering trees where she could gather together all the illy-used horses in the world and then just watch them enjoy their surroundings; the smaller creatures, also, were her friends ... little Tid-i-wats, to whom we have already been introduced, was a feline of very uncertain temper and most impulsive and nerve-racking little habits, yet to Ruth she could always go and be sure of a loving reception no matter to what lengths she had gone, for Tid-i-wats was far from being a perfect little cat; she very often reverted to her original type and did things that no cat with a civilized ancestry would have even thought could _be_ done; but she knew that Ruth would only say:

"She is not feeling very well, today; she is beginning to show her years a little; I noticed a white hair only today, on her little neck; she is my own old baby-cat, anyway, and I will always take as good care of her as I possibly can."

She would watch Ruth, calmly, while she straightened out whatever she, her own self, had made it necessary to straighten, and, then, when the young woman would, finally, sit down, no matter where Tid-i-wats happened to be located at the time, she would very soon land on Ruth's lap with no fear of a scolding even; she took advantage of the gentle disposition of her care-taker, same as so many humans did.

Ruth's father's friend looked long and earnestly at the tall, straight, slender figure standing there at the entrance to her almost palatial home and the picture remained in his memory during the balance of his earthly life.

While Ruth Wakefield and Estrella were preparing themselves to a.s.sist their fellow-countrymen in case they should be needed, events were shaping themselves so that it seemed likely that Cuba would be the stage for the setting of as heroic a play as the world had ever witnessed: Commodore Dewey had bottled up the Spanish fleet in Manila Bay and Naval-Constructor Richmond P. Hobson had executed his daring and unheard-of feat although the gallant _Merrimac_ was sunk in Santiago harbor.

Soon after the formal declaration of war on April 25, 1898, President McKinley sent forth a call for volunteers to enter the United States army and navy. Instantly, almost, the ranks were more than filled with active, alert, capable men, anxious, each one of them, to do his full share of the work that lay before his beloved land.

It was while active preparations for a war carried on in the interests of humanity were progressing rapidly that Theodore Roosevelt became prominent as representing the highest type of American manhood; he threw himself, bodily, into the breach in the interests of his country; there was no personal sacrifice which he was unwilling to make ... no task too hard for him to attempt. He became, at once, an acknowledged and adored leader of the young Americans who crowded around him, loving him like a brother, and, at the same time, revering his quick judgment and his dauntless courage.

There is no figure in American history more heroic or more admired than that of Theodore Roosevelt, mounted on a n.o.ble horse, in the uniform of a United States Volunteer and wearing a wide campaign hat.

Ruth Wakefield was kept well informed as to what was being done by her own people, mainly through the kindness of Father Felix who seldom missed an evening's visit with her and her almost constant companion, Estrella; the two girls, for they were no more than that in spite of what they had pa.s.sed through, had become the best of understanding friends; the younger girl seldom spoke of her dead lover and Ruth found that the memory of her husband had been forced into the background of her thoughts by the march of pa.s.sing events.

One evening, Father Felix climbed the narrow pathway to the mansion on the hill and found Ruth alone as Estrella, who was her almost constant companion, now, had gone to the village on one of her infrequent visits to her little friend, Tessa.

The good Priest was glad to find Ruth alone as he had news of great importance for her ... news that would lead to great developments in the near future; after being a.s.sured of their entire privacy, he said:

"We will have work to do, my dear Daughter, before many more months have pa.s.sed by. The American people have endured the sight of the injustice and oppression exercised by the Spanish authorities toward the helpless Cubans for a long time, now, and are becoming more and more determined to break the Spanish rule. You and I must be prepared to a.s.sist and succor our own dear boys when they begin to smite the enemy of right and justice, hip and thigh. My course in this work has been made plain before me.... I have applied for the position of Chaplain in the United States service and I trust that they will allow me to accompany my little flock right into the midst of every battle in which they will be engaged. It seems to me that your path in this matter, my Daughter, is, also, plain ... you can turn this charming home into a hospital to which the sorely wounded or those who have fallen ill from any cause may be brought and where they may receive the tender care which they will deserve from every loyal heart and hand. I am certain that you will find work for Estrella as well as for every member of your family, here, in this connection, also you will be ably a.s.sisted by many who will flock to your standard when they understand what you are doing. I, myself, will always a.s.sist you in every way in my power and I may be able to spare you some uncertainty and, possibly, also, some unpleasantness. My Daughter," he ended, "there will be work for us to do that will require all our strength and courage.... May G.o.d, in His great Wisdom, guide and help us."

Ruth clasped her hands and bowed her head as Father Felix prayed for G.o.d's blessing on whatever enterprise they should be called upon to undertake in the great cause in which they were both enlisted.

After the good Priest had disappeared down the narrow path that led to the little village of San Domingo, she sat, for a long time, in deep revery, reflecting on the peace and prosperity that then covered the tropical Island upon which she had lived for so many years and trying to imagine what changes were likely to come in the wake of the probable conflict of two great nations, for Ruth realized that America was meeting a foe worthy of her steel in Spain whose far-famed Armada had been made the subject of song and story; she had no doubt of the final outcome ... whatever America attempted, that she would accomplish ...

but how many splendid American men would have to lie upon the b.l.o.o.d.y battle-fields that would spring up all around her was yet an unsolved problem; and that, she thought, proudly and devotedly, would be her work ... to find those splendid American heroes, and to do for them as much as if each one of them had been her own blood brother ... to succor the wounded and bury the dead.

This line of thought led her, inevitably, to the grave already lying under the moonlight so near to her home, and, upon a sudden and almost irresistable impulse, she s.n.a.t.c.hed a wrap from the rack in the hall and started down toward the little cemetery, thinking to bid an eternal farewell to the grave of the man who had been, if only for a few short months, her husband.

CHAPTER XIII

Ruth descended the hill with firm, sure steps for she was strong in body as well as in spirit; she had reached the gate of the little cemetery before the impulse that had prompted her action had had time to lose any of its power, but, as she opened the gate and realized the lateness of the hour, her natural caution led her to pause for a second and take in her surroundings; she at once became conscious of the sound of a low, sobbing voice saying:

"Dear G.o.d, I came here all alone hoping that You would forgive him for the crime that he committed if I came to you in secret beside the grave of him whose life he took ... the sin is lying heavily upon his soul and I wish to lift it from him by sacrificing my own peace of mind so that it may be bestowed upon him, for he suffers grievously from his wound, dear G.o.d, he suffers very grievously.... I pray that You will put the sorrow for his crime upon me instead of him so that I may help him, for he is greatly in need of more help than I can give him, being but a simple-minded, feeble, little peasant and unfit to carry this heavy load."

The supplication ended in a rush of sobs that shook the inner consciousness of her who listened to them, for Ruth was tender-hearted above all her other instincts; she advanced into the little cemetery, then, with far different feelings than the ones that brought her there.

The sounds that she had heard came from the same direction she had meant to take to reach the grave of Victorio Colenzo, so she proceeded along the little path that she had followed, in secret, more than once before, for, with Estrella in her home, she could not visit the last resting-place of the body of the man whom she had loved as very young and innocent women will, often, love a creature all unworthy of such affection, except surrept.i.tiously; so that it was easy for her to wind among the simple little head-stones until she came to the grave she sought.

The form her eyes could just discern beside the tomb was small and slight and cowering down as if, indeed, in earnest supplication; Ruth advanced until she was standing very near the silent woman and, not wishing to startle and confuse her by a sudden word, she very gently touched her bowed head; instantly, the girl sprang up in wild alarm, for it had taken all her courage to come there at all; Ruth rea.s.sured her as quickly as she could by saying, softly:

"Do not fear, whoever you may be; I am but another woman like yourself and I wish to help you no matter what it is that is so troubling you; we women should a.s.sist each other in this world, for women, as it seems to me, were put into the world to suffer, mainly, so we ought to try to help each other. Tell me what there is that I can do to help you, now."

Tessa, for the reader has, no doubt, guessed that it was she, began to sob wildly and clung to the other woman who had come to her so strangely; she could not speak, at first, for crying, and, then, she could not speak for fear of injuring the man she loved, and, so, she did not speak at all, but ran away without one word of explanation, thinking in that way she might avoid discovery.

But the incident had shaken Ruth so that the memory of the man whose body lay within that narrow grave grew dim and far away; she knew that he had been unworthy of her love and must have scouted it in secret many times, for, if he had not done so, how could he have made such love to poor Estrella as he had while she, his lawful wife, yet lived upon the earth? Ruth Wakefield had often said that truth was truth no matter where it fell ... she'd even said that she would blame herself when blame was hers to bear, and, so, she could not shield the memory of the newly dead too far, and, so, she turned away from that low grave and never went there again, and, as she slowly climbed the hill that led her to her own loved home, Estrella overtook her in the path and, hand in hand with her who had been wronged as she, herself, had been, she left the memory of the handsome, gay deceiver lying there within the narrow grave that hid his fast decaying body from the world of living men and women; from that time, she did not suffer, in thinking of him, as she had before; there are turning points in every road no matter where it leads to, and this was a turn for Ruth in that sad road where she had strayed, but only for a short and most unhappy, if, at moments, wildly joyous, time.

When Tessa left the grave of Victorio Colenzo, she fled in haste and fright; she did not go at once to her own home for she feared that she might be followed; she had become a fugitive as truly as Manuello was, for, now, she was to him as if she were, indeed, his wife, attending to all wants of his that she could satisfy, and, secretly and silently, becoming but the shadow of the gay and pretty girl that she had been before; her friends, who saw her often, noted this sad change, but did not know its cause.

Father Felix watched the girl at times and pitied her, for he had learned that she had been devoted to the handsome peasant whom he also was a.s.sured was guilty of some crime and, since his disappearance, he had figured out some things that made him almost certain what the crime had been, for the good Priest was much alone and thought more deeply about many things than those who have not followed psychic lines of reasoning.

One morning, Father Felix went, again, to visit Ruth, and found Estrella with her, and he asked the girl about her little friend who had been dear to her from early little girlhood; Estrella told him that she had not seen her for some time, as, when she'd gone to visit her, she had been gone, and Tessa had not come to see her as she'd asked her to, for she had left word for her where to come to find her, knowing she could trust her, for she'd always been a true and faithful friend to her.

The good Priest pondered for a moment, then he said:

"I wish that you would go, at once, to see your little friend; I think that she is at her home at present, and I wish that you would try to discover what it is that is troubling her, for she is most unhappy over something and I wish that you would help her if you can for she is in need of understanding help at this time more than at any time during my acquaintance with her. Go, my Daughter, find your little friend and try to a.s.sist her if you can."

Estrella, having secured the permission of Ruth, followed the advice of the good Priest and departed on her errand of love and kindness.

When Father Felix had been a.s.sured of their privacy, he turned to his companion and said:

"I have information of importance to give you, my Daughter. We are drawing nearer and nearer to the goal we seek. Our compatriots are growing weary of blockading Havana and other harbors near to us and will very soon advance into the interior of Cuba. When that time comes there will be great suffering all around us and I think that it will be best for you and me to form a sort of secret society with pa.s.swords, which, while simple in themselves, will convey to us a secret meaning. You and I must act as one in this matter.... I am sure of your fealty and you can rely upon mine but how many others there are near to us upon whose loyalty we can depend I do not know. Estrella is discreet and thoughtful for an uneducated and untrained girl, but she would have no idea of what course to pursue under complicated or difficult circ.u.mstances, so that it may be necessary to keep many events secret from her. There are many spies already in Cuba and there are those among us who would be willing to exchange the lives and property of their best friends for personal emolument. I know one young fellow who has, as I believe, already sold his birthright of truth and honor for a mess of pottage and there are others of his ilk. I rely on you alone in all this village of San Domingo ... you, alone, are strong and capable ... you, alone, are thoroughly American and devoted to your native land. I rely on you, my Daughter, and you may rely on me. Let us now arrange a secret pact between us so that, should we be separated, we may be sure of any word that each may send the other. If I send to you a message adding to the body of it the word _pax_ alone, then I will mean to signify that all is well with me and that I do not know of any secret danger threatening you, but if to the word _pax_ I add _vobisc.u.m_, then you are to be made aware that danger threatens you, while I may, yet, be safe from it, but if I say _Pax vobiscus_ then I'll mean that we are both in danger of a similar nature; if I send these latter words, you are to use all means of safety at your command to seclude yourself from outside notice just as much as possible and to try to find me if you can do so without exposure to yourself; but if I say just _pax_ then I mean what the word implies, and you may go to and from your home with freedom. I will come to see you just as often as I can and I will arrange to have the officers of our own army and navy visit you and then you will use your own good judgment combined with what knowledge they will give to you as to how you will proceed, knowing that my spirit will be with you even if my body cannot be ... even if I should be separated from this perishable body, my Daughter, I think that G.o.d would let me come to you to help you.... He would know our need and it is my belief He would supply it.

Let us pray to Him for guidance, now, before I leave you for the night.

Father in heaven, protect and guide our footsteps while we stay upon this mundane sphere of spiritual action. Help us do what we were meant to do and teach us how to walk in unknown paths which we are, now, about to enter on. May what is just and right be conquerors in conflicts that will, very soon, be carried on about us. May the souls of those about to leave this world be prepared for the great change from this world to another one, and may we, who are Thy humble servants, do the things that will be pleasing in Thy sight. Bless us, now, and guide us unto Thee.

Amen."

When Estrella reached the home of little Tessa, she found her friend about to go somewhere but where she would not say ... she seemed so much distraught about it that Estrella did not ask the second time where she was going; she could see that she had made some preparations for the journey, for she had a small bag filled with eatables and a jug of home-made vintage in her hands; Estrella plainly saw how distressed she was and how wan and weary, too, and, so, she only stayed a very short time; but, when she went away, she only went just far enough to be where Tessa could not see her ... then she watched her little friend, but only with the kindest thoughts of her, and saw her take an unused, winding path a little ways, then hasten on without a path at all, so far as she could see; she wound among the cacti, fearlessly, as if upon a very important errand, and as if she feared that she would be too late to do the errand she was bent upon; Estrella watched her for a time, and, then, still with the kindest thoughts of Tessa, followed after her, but far enough behind her so she could not see her ... she would stoop behind a friendly bit of brush whenever little Tessa turned around and gazed about her like a startled little bird about to seek its hidden nest; so, un.o.bserved, Estrella followed after her, and came, at length, to that small clearing where the ruined hut had stood for many years; Estrella knew about it, having found it at the same time Manuello had, indeed, for they two used to roam the hills together when they were but little children ... sometimes Tessa went with them, but, oftener, they were alone; and, so, Estrella peered within the ruined hut and saw its occupant as he lay there in bitter pain and wan and weary, too, like little Tessa was; she saw the other girl creep past the tumble-down old door that she had set up at the entrance to the hut to shield its inmate from the winds, and, also, to try to keep the fact that he was there at all unknown; she saw the little tender-hearted woman kneel beside the rude couch on which her restless patient lay and kiss the lips that only moaned her name in anguish and despair; she saw her smooth the black and silky hair back from the brow of Manuello, and, then, she heard the following conversation.

"Tell me, little Tessa," said her patient, eagerly, "are you sure you were not seen when you came here, today? I greatly fear that you will yet divulge, in some way, my hiding-place. I could not move a step to save myself, no matter who came here to find me. It is terrible to be like this. I'd rather die than stay here like this for another day.... I wish you'd find a gun, somewhere, and bring it to me the next time you come and let me end the lives of both of us. You are like a little skeleton, yourself.... I wonder what's the matter with you ... are you ill or is it only just the weariness and fright that makes you look so?

If you should fail me, I would surely die ... a wounded rat that cannot even run to save itself. Tessa, tell me," he cried out, peevishly, "are you sick? You look so pale today it seems to me you are about to faint away ... and what would I do, then?"

"I don't believe that I am sick," she said, cheerfully. "I'm sure I don't know why I'm pale.... It is very warm today, for one thing ... I hurried up the hill ... Estrella came...."

At that name, her patient roused again:

"Estrella! Are you sure she did not follow you? She could gloat about me, now, if she were minded to ... what did you bring for me to eat, today?" he ended, changing the subject, abruptly. "I'm almost starved to death; I wish you'd come a little earlier, tomorrow."

"I will try, dear Manuello, I will try," said little Tessa, gravely. "I always try to come as soon as I can come when I'm alone and can evade the children."

Manuello tossed a while in silence, then he asked again:

"Are you sure Estrella did not follow you? Look outside and see if there is not someone near the hut. I'm afraid ... I'm dreadfully afraid, somehow, today. I've lain right here, now, all these weeks, and have not been so frightened as I am, somehow, today. Look outside and see!"