Rita Part 9

"Finally there is no escape, we must pa.s.s the door. I stop before it.

'Open!' says the colonel.

"'Your Excellency will observe,' I say, 'that there is a dangerous case of spotted fever in this room.'

"He turns white, then black. He pulls his moustache, which resembles a mattress.

"At last 'How do I know?' he cries; 'You may be lying! all Cubans are liars. The girl may be in this room!'

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'I THROW OPEN THE DOOR AND STEP BACK, MY HEART IN MY MOUTH.'"]

"I throw open the door and step back, my heart in my mouth, my eyes flinging themselves into the apartment. Heavens! what do we see? a hideous face projects itself from the bed. Red--black--a face from the pit! A horrible smell is in our nostrils--we hear groans--enough! The colonel staggers back, cursing. I close the door and follow him out to the verandah. My own nerves are shaken, I admit it; it was a thing to shatter the soul. Still cursing, he mounts his horse, and rides away with his troop. I see them go. They carry away the best of what the house holds, but what of that? they are gone!

"I hasten, as well as my infirmity allows, to the chamber. I cry 'Manuela, is it thou?'

"I am bidden to enter. I open the door, and find that admirable child at the toilet-table, washing her face and laughing till the tears flow.

Already half of her pretty face is clean, but half still hideous to behold.

"'How did you do it?' I ask her. She laughs more merrily than before; if you have noticed, she has a laughter of silver bells, this maiden. 'The red lip-salve,' she says, 'and a little ink. Have no fear, Don Annunzio; it was you who discovered the fever, you know.'

"'But the smell, my child? there must be something bad here, something unhealthy; a vile smell!'

"She laughs again, this child. 'I burned a piece of tortoise-sh.e.l.l,' she says. 'Saint Ursula forgive me, it was one of the senorita's side-combs, but there was nothing else at hand.'

"Thus then, senorita, thus, my Prudencia, has Manuela virtually saved our house and ourselves. Hasten to embrace her! I have already permitted myself the salute of a father upon her charming cheek, as simple grat.i.tude enjoined it."

As if by magic--could she have been listening in the pa.s.sage?--Manuela appeared, blushing and radiant. Donna Prudencia did not think it necessary to kiss her, but she shook her warmly by the hand, telling her that she was a good girl, and fit to be a Yankee, a compliment which Manuela hardly appreciated. As for Rita, she kissed the girl on both cheeks, and stood holding her hands, gazing at her with wistful eyes.

"Ah, Manuela," she cried; "I must not begrudge it to you. You are a heroine; you have had the opportunity, and you knew how to take it.

Daughter of Cuba, your sister blesses you."

Before Manuela could reply, Donna Prudencia broke in. "There! there!"

she said. "Come down off your high horse, Miss Margaritty, there's a dear; and help me to see to things. Here's Captain Delmonty coming to-night, and them chicken-thieves of Gringos have carried off every living thing there was to eat in the house."

CHAPTER XI.

CAPTAIN JACK.

When Jack Delmonte appeared, late in the evening, he was puzzled at the change which had come over the pretty Grand d.u.c.h.ess, as he had mentally nicknamed Rita. In the afternoon she had appeared, he could not imagine why, to regard him as a portion of the sc.u.m of the earth. He thought her extremely pretty, and full of charm, yet he could not help feeling provoked, in spite of his amus.e.m.e.nt, at the disdainful curl at the corners of her mouth when she addressed him. Now, he was equally at a loss to understand why or how the Grand d.u.c.h.ess was replaced by a gentle and tender-voiced maiden, who looked up at him from under her long curved lashes with timid and deprecatory glances. She insisted on mixing his _granita_ herself, and brought it in the one valuable cup Marm Prudence possessed, a beautiful old bit of Lowestoft. She begged to hear from his own lips about his last raid--about all his raids. She had heard about some of them; the one where he had swum the river under fire to rescue the little lame boy; the other, when he had chased five Spaniards for half a mile, with no other weapon than a banana pointed at full c.o.c.k. She even knew of some exploits that he had never heard of; and the honest captain found himself blushing under his tan, and finally changed the subject by main force. It was very pleasant, of course, to have this lovely creature hanging on his words, and supplementing them with others of her own, only too extravagantly laudatory; but a fellow must tell the truth; and--and after all, what was the meaning of it? She wouldn't look at him, three hours ago.

Had they had a gay winter in Havana? he asked. He hadn't been to a dance for forty years. Was she fond of dancing? of course she was. What a pity they couldn't--here he happened to glance at Rita's black dress, and stopped short.

"Miss Montfort, I beg your pardon! It was very stupid of me. I ran on without thinking. You are in mourning. What a brute I am!"

The tears had gathered in Rita's eyes, but now she smiled through them.

"It is six months since my father died," she said. "He was the kindest of fathers, though, alas! Spanish in his sympathies."

"Your mother?" hazarded Jack, full of sympathy.

"My mother died three years ago. My stepmother--" then followed the tale of her persecution, her escape, and subsequent adventures. Captain Jack was delighted with the story.

"Hurrah!" he exclaimed. "That was tremendously plucky, you know, going off in that way. That was fine! and you got to your brother all right? I wonder--is he--are you any relation of Carlos Montfort? Not his sister?

You don't mean it. Why, I was at school with Carlos, the first school I ever went to. An old priest kept it, in Plaza Nero. Carlos was a good fellow, and gave me the biggest licking once--I'm very glad we met, Miss Montfort. And--I don't mean to be impertinent, I'm sure you know that; but--what are you going to do now?"

Alas! Rita did not know. "I thought I was safe here," she said. "I was to stay here with these good people till word came from my uncle in the States, or till there was a good escort that might take me to some port whence I could sail to New York. Now--I do not know; I begin to tremble, Senor Delmonte. To-day, while Donna Prudencia and I were in the forest, a Spanish _guerrilla_ came here, looking for me. Don Diego Moreno was in command. He is a friend of my stepmother's. I know him, a cold, hateful man. If he had found me--" she shuddered.

"I know Diego Moreno, too," said Delmonte; and his brow darkened. "He is not fit to look at you, much less to speak to you. Never mind, Miss Montfort! don't be afraid; we'll manage somehow. If no better way turns up, I'll take you to Puerto Blanco myself. Trouble is, these fellows are rather down on me just now; but we'll manage somehow, never fear! Hark!

what's that?"

He leaned forward, listening intently. A faint sound was heard, hardly more than a breathing. Some night-bird, was it? It came from the fringe of forest across the road. Again it sounded, two notes, a long and a short one, soft and plaintive. A bird, certainly, thought Rita. She started as Captain Delmonte imitated the call, repeating it twice.

"Juan," he said, briefly. "Reporting for orders. Here he comes!"

A burly figure crossed the road in three strides. Three more brought him to the verandah, where he saluted and stood at attention.

"Well, Juan, where are the rest of you?"

"In the usual place, Senor Captain, four miles from here," said the orderly. "I have brought Aquila; he is here in the thicket, my own horse also. Will you ride to-night?"

"To-morrow, at daybreak, Juan. I have promised Senora Carreno to sleep one night under her roof, and convince her that my foot is entirely well. Bring Aquila into the courtyard. All is quiet in the neighbourhood?"

"All quiet, Senor Captain. Good; I bring Aquila and return to the troop.

You will be with us, then, before sunrise?"

"Before sunrise without fail," said Captain Jack. "_Buenos noches, Juanito!_"

The trooper saluted again, and slipped back across the road; next moment he reappeared leading a long, lean, brown horse, who walked as if he were treading on eggsh.e.l.ls. They pa.s.sed into the courtyard and were seen no more, Juan making his way back to the thicket by some unseen path.

"You do not stay with us through the day then, Mr. Delmonte? I am sorry!" said Rita.

"I wish I could, indeed I do; but I must get to my fellows as soon as possible. I shall come back, though, in a day or two, and put myself and my troop at your orders, Miss Montfort. How would you like to lead a troop, like Madame Hernandez?" He laughed, but Rita's eyes flashed.

"But I would die to do it!" she cried. "Ah! Senor Delmonte, once to fight for my country, and then to die--that is my ambition."

"And you'd do it well, I am sure!" said Delmonte, warmly; "the fighting part, I mean. But n.o.body would let you die, Miss Montfort, it would spoil the prospect."

He spoke lightly, for heroics embarra.s.sed him, as they did Carlos.

Soon after, Donna Prudencia appeared, with bedroom candles, and stood looking benevolently at the two young people.

"I expect you've been having a good visit," she said. "Well, there's an end to all, and it's past ten o'clock, Miss Margaritty."

Rita rose with some reluctance; nor did Captain Delmonte seem enthusiastic on the subject of going to bed.

"Such a beautiful night!" he said. "Must you go, Miss Montfort? I mustn't keep you up, of course. Good-bye, then, for a few days! I shall be gone before daybreak. I'm very glad we have met."