Rainbow's End. Rex Beach

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СКАЧАТЬ she hates Cubans, too!" laughed the brother. "She's Spanish, you know. Well, it's fortunate you didn't see her to-day. Br-r! What a temper! We had our theatricals, too. I asked her for money, as usual, and, as usual, she refused. It was like a scene from a play. She'll walk in her sleep to-night, if ever."

      Rosa nodded soberly, and O'Reilly, suppressing some light reply that had sprung to his lips, inquired, curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

      Brother and sister joined in explaining that Dona Isabel was given to peculiar actions, especially after periods of excitement or anger, and that one of her eccentricities had taken the form of somnambulistic wanderings. "Oh, she's crazy enough," Esteban concluded. "I believe it's her evil conscience."

      Rosa explained further: "She used to steal about at night, hoping to surprise papa or Sebastian going or coming from the treasure. They were both killed, as you know, and the secret of the hiding-place was lost. Now Isabel declares that they come to her in her sleep and that she has to help them hunt for it, whether she wishes or not. It is retribution." The speaker drew up her shoulders and shivered, but Esteban smiled.

      "Bah!" he exclaimed. "I'll believe in ghosts when I see one." Then, with a shake of his head: "Isabel has never given up the hope of finding that treasure. She would like to see Rosa married, and me fighting with the Insurrectos, so that she might have a free hand in her search."

      O'Reilly scanned the speaker silently for a moment; then he said, with a gravity unusual in him, "I wonder if you know that you're suspected of—working for the Insurrecto cause."

      "Indeed? I didn't know."

      "Well, it's a fact." O'Reilly heard Rosa gasp faintly. "Is it true?" he asked.

      "I am a Cuban." Esteban's smile was a trifle grim.

      "Cuban? Your people were Spanish."

      "True. But no Spaniard ever raised a Spanish child in Cuba. We are

       Cubans, Rosa and I."

      At this statement the sister cried: "Hush! It is dangerous to speak in that way, with this new war growing every day."

      "But O'Reilly is our good friend," Esteban protested.

      "Of course I am," the American agreed, "and for that reason I spoke. I hope you're not too deeply involved with the rebels."

      "There, Esteban! Do you hear?" Turning to O'Reilly, Rosa said, imploringly: "Please reason with him. He's young and headstrong and he won't listen to me."

      Esteban frowned. "Young, eh? Well, sometimes the young are called upon to do work that older men wouldn't care to undertake."

      "What work?" O'Reilly's eyes were still upon him. "You can tell ME."

      "I think I can," the other agreed. "Well, then, I know everybody in Matanzas; I go everywhere, and the Spanish officers talk plainly before me. Somebody must be the eyes and the ears for Colonel Lopez."

      "Colonel Lopez!" exclaimed O'Reilly.

      Esteban nodded.

      Rosa's face, as she looked at the two men, was white and worried. For a time the three of them sat silent; then the American said, slowly, "You'll be shot if you're caught."

      Rosa whispered: "Yes! Think of it!"

      "Some one must run chances," Esteban averred. "We're fighting tyranny; all Cuba is ablaze. I must do my part."

      "But sooner or later you'll be discovered—then what?" persisted

       O'Reilly.

      Esteban shrugged. "Who knows? There'll be time enough when—"

      "What of Rosa?"

      At this question the brother stirred uneasily and dropped his eyes. O'Reilly laid a hand upon his arm. "You have no right to jeopardize her safety. Without you, to whom could she turn?" The girl flashed her admirer a grateful glance.

      "Senor, you for one would see that she—"

      "But—I'm going away." O'Reilly felt rather than saw Rosa start, for his face was averted. Purposely he kept his gaze upon Esteban, for he didn't wish to see the slow pallor that rose in the girl's cheeks, the look of pain that crept into her eyes. "I came here to tell you both good-by. I may be gone for some time. I—I don't know when I can get back."

      "I'm sorry," Esteban told him, with genuine regret. "We have grown very fond of you. You will leave many friends here in Matanzas, I'm sure. But you will come back before long, eh?"

      "Yes, as soon as I can. That is, if—" He did not finish the sentence.

      "Good. You're one of us. In the mean time I'll remember what you say, and at least I'll be careful." By no means wanting in tact, Esteban rose briskly and, after shaking hands with O'Reilly, left the two lovers to say farewell as best suited them.

      But for once O'Reilly's ready tongue was silent. The laughter was gone from his blue eyes when he turned to the girl at his side.

      "You say you are going away?" Rosa inquired, breathlessly. "But why?"

      "I'm going partly because of this war, and partly because of—something else. I tried to tell you yesterday, but I couldn't. When the revolution started everybody thought it was merely a local uprising, and I wrote my company to that effect; but, bless you, it has spread like fire, and now the whole eastern end of the island is ablaze."

      "Esteban says it will be more terrible than the Ten Years' War."

      "God forbid! And yet all the old fighters are back again. Nobody believed that Maximo Gomez had returned, but it's true. And the Maceos are here, too, from Costa Rica. Antonio has already gained control of most of Santiago Province, and he's sweeping westward. Of course the Spaniards minimize the reports of his success, and we, here, don't understand what's really going on. Anyhow, business has stopped, and my employers have ordered me home to find out what's happened to their profits. They seem to hold me personally responsible for this insurrection."

      "I see. And when you have told them the truth you will come back. Is that it?"

      "I—Perhaps."

      "You said there was something else—"

      O'Reilly's hesitation became an embarrassed silence. He tried to laugh it off.

      "There is, otherwise I'd stay right here and tell my penurious friends to whistle for their profits. It seems I'm cursed with a fatal beauty. You may have noticed it? No? Well, perhaps it's a magnificent business ability that I have. Anyhow, the president of my company has a notion that I'd make him a good son-in-law."

      "I—Oh!" cried Rosa.

      And at her tone O'Reilly hurried on:

      "These rich men have the most absurd ideas. I suppose I'll have to—"

      "Then you are in love, senor?"

      The young man nodded vigorously. "Indeed I am—with the sweetest girl in Cuba. That's the whole trouble. That's why I'm hurrying СКАЧАТЬ