Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 407 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

we =e J ——— ly made his way to Colonel Morelos, and de- manded of him, in return for the services he had he him, that he might bid his friends good- Mi Morelos granted the demand, and Senor Leon passed along the line, saying farewell to all, and coming last to my father. “To him he said that you and Estrella were comfortably settled in America, and that I was there but a few paces distant, in disguise. ‘*T saw my father’s eyes turn toward me, and _ knew that, in spite of my disguise, he recognized ‘me. ‘* Then Senor Leon pressed my father’s hand in a long farewell and turning away returned to me.” The senora stretched forth her hands here for that of the young Cuban, and grasping it in both her own she pressed her lips to it ere he could withdraw it. ‘She spoke no word, but the act was deeply touching, and tears came into the eyes of Leon De Soto, while Isodor hastily continued, as his self-possession seemed failing him. ‘* Mother, need I say that my father died, the brave man that he was? ** Need I say that it was Colonel Morelos that was his murderer, and that he made him the victim of his revenge, because my sister would not become his wife? ; ‘Need I say that I registered a vow to have revenge, oh how bitter a revenge, upon Morelos and his Spaniards, for the work that [ saw them do? ‘*'You know all this, so I will only say that I drove with the Senor De Soto hastily ‘from the scene, and on the way our carriage ran over one _ whom both you and sister knew. ‘It was the strange girl, Fanita Fuentes, who dwells with her old father, the Hermit Sailor, in the mountainsfon the coast. ‘*It was her fault that she was thrown be- neath the horses’ feet and severely hurt; but we carried her to her home, calling on the way to the doctor to accompany us, and he pronounced her not fatally injured. ‘But she called me to her and told me that she loved Rafael Ramirez, who had belonged to our league, turned traitor, and been executed, and in revenge she had told all that she knew of the insurgent movement, and caused the death of the leaders, for she had believed father to have ordered the execution of her lover. “Tt was a strange fatality that she near] lost her life under the feet of the horses which were drawing the son of the man she had aided to murder. “I uttered no word against her though, but returned with Senor Leon to his home, and that nie he went with me to the yacht and we set sail, for General Lopez had failed in his expedi- aap and, for the present the cause of Cuba is ost. “On our way out we were chased by the Spanish brig-of-war El Moro, and she followed us, in spite of a severe hurricane, to the Ameri- can coast, where I wrecked the Cloud upon the Chandeleur Islands, rather than that she should fall into the hands of the Spaniards. ‘They followed us ashore, and we beat them back, and I took from the guest of the brig’s commander, who was none other than Atares, The Butcher of Cubans, the Diamond Cutlass ong had been presented to him for his red ‘*'That sword I have with me, and the general has named me, in honor of this capture, Captain Cutlass. ‘* Escaping from the island, we made our way in boats to the lake-shore, and thence to New Orleans. ‘Now, mother, I have told you all.” As Isodor spoke the last words he sprung for- word and caught his mother in his arms, for she had attempted to rise, and had fallen forward like one in a faint. Tenderly she was borne to her room, and a physician was sent for in all haste; but he came too late, for the rey of Death had already called the spirit of the broken-hearted woman away. CHAPTER X. THE NIGHT EXPEDITION, SomE months after the death of the Senora Christobal, a small sloop-yacht was standing in toward the Cuban coast, just as the shadows of np were falling upon the waters. he island was yet several leagues away, and under a five-knot breeze the yacht was making fair headway, her jib and mainsail being alone set, as though her skipper was in no hurry, That personage sat upon the deck, his eyes eee ee ee ee ee ee ne eee ee The Boy Insurgent, fixed oo the distant shores with a sad, wist- ful look, while his mouth was sternly set. Near him sat a young man, with a dark handsome face, who, with the skipper are well known to the reader, for they are none other than Isodor Christobal and Leon De Soto, The craft wasa trim American yacht, sloop rig, of some thirty tons burden, and with a crew of half a dozen negroes, one of whom was at the helm, while the others were forward, also gazing intently upon the’ Cuban shores they were approaching. The one at the tiller was Bueno, with the same happy, fearless face, full of character, which never varied in danger or sorrow. ‘*Leon, I see the white walls of dear old Villa Vista now,” said Isodor, who was looking through his glass. ‘*Yes, so do 1, and they will long stand as a grand old ruin—a remembrance of Spanish van- dalism and mercilessness,” was the reply of Leon De Soto, as he turned his glass wpon the far-away'ruined walls of the once beautiful home of the Christobals. ‘** Leon, you will not do as I ask you—urge your parents and sister to return with me to- night and seek a home in free America?” ‘* No, Isodor, [ cannot, much as I would have them do so, ‘‘My parents are getting old; they have known but the one home in all their lives, for both were born on the plantation, and, 4s you know, were cousins, ‘They would seldom go to Havana, and to get them to leave their anchorage now 1 believe would break their hearts. ‘* Besides, I do not believe the Revolution will again break out for a year, and in that time, by being upon the spot, I can see what it is best for them to do.” “You will be in great danger yourself, Leon, as you know the Spaniards are most vigilant, our latest reports say.” ‘True, but Morelos commands all of the De- artment where 1 will be in secret service, and he will not harm me, I think.” ‘¢ Do not trust him too far,” ‘*T will not, Isodor, for I know that he is a cunning fox as well, as a tiger: but I shall not allow our cause to suffer from fear of personal harm,” ‘“Leon, I fear you are a trifle reckless, and I think I guess the cause,” ‘* Well, Isodor?” “You left Cuba with me in the hope that, see- ing my sister away from home, she might be in- fluenced to change her mind. ‘You have again offered yourself, and she has refused you?” ‘Yes, Isodor, the senorita is my friend, and that is all; but [ do not yet give up hope that I may win a name some day, and she may yet change her mind.” ‘Tt is not that, Leon, for if you were the chief of a Cuban army it could not cause her to regard you more highly than she does; but the fact is, sister once met one who saved us from a sinking vessel, gallantly coming to our rescue in his yacht, and himself steering the boat that took us off, and she has never forgotten him.” ‘‘He was an American, I believe” ‘Yes, a young planter on the Mississippi, and a yachtsman, cruising for pleasure in the Gulf when he aided us.” ‘* You know his name?” ‘Yes, it was Crittenden, and he had been an officer in the war between the United Statesand Mexico; but, resigning from the service, he had devoted himself to a life of travel,” Leon De Soto sighed, for he would have given worlds to have been the favored American. Then he asked: ‘Will you tell me, Isodor, if the Senorita Estrella is engaged to this young American?” No, for she has not seen him since he took us to Villa Vista in his yacht after rescuing us from the sinking packet.” ‘* Well, Isodor, I shall try to win a name in our next struggle that will make the senorita proud of me as a friend; but tell me, when do you think General Lopez will be ready to strike a second blow?” ‘* He told me that as soon as the hiding-places upon the coast were decided upon, where to nface the arms and where to make the landings, ould begin my work.” ‘‘Your new yacht will be completed by that time?” : “Ves, and in her I risk my all; for with what money we had in America, through father’s foresight, I purchased the home for Estrella, and placed at interest her share, while the balance I devoted to chartering this craft for the purpose I have in hand, and building my new yacht.” ster ee —— mee me we : - ee ‘“You have done most nobly, Isodor, and though not yet seventeen, few men are your equal. But we are nearing the shore rapidly now, as the wind increases, and I sincerely hope that nothing will arise to thwart your purpose to-night.” ‘* | will carry out my plans if it can be done, and woe unto him who stands between,” was the stern rejoinder of the youth, who then turn- ed to the negro helmsman, and said: ‘*Run into the Black Lagoon, Bueno, for I am sure the Spaniards will not have a guard there on the watch.” ‘‘ Yes, Senor Master,” was the reply of the negro helmsman, and an hour after the little sloop glided into an opening in the high shores, where a lagoon emptied its inky waters into the Gulf. The lagoon was not very wide, hardly more than sixty feet at its mouth, and the banks were high and precipitous, while they were fringed with trees and shrubbery, presenting a barrier that could not be scaled, or even seen through. Dropping anchor, in a darkness that could be almost feit, there in that retreat, the boat was launched, and with six of the slaves at the oars, Bueno at the tiller, and Isodor and Leon De Soto seated aft, they pulled out of the hiding- place leaving the craft without a soul on board. Turning down the coast they moved slowly along with mufiled oars for a mile or more, when the boat was headed into a small bay. It was the Villa Vista harbor; but the pier had been destroyed, the ruins of the mansion loomed up in dismal solitude, and upon all rested an air of desolation that was painful Mooring the boat in the shadow of the wreck- ed pier, Isodor sprung ashore, followed by De Soto and the negroes, the latter carrying a hand- barrow, spades and shovels. Past the ruined villa they made, disturbing some night birds that were roosting there, on up through the negro quarter, and thence by the weed-grown plantation road toward the town, [t was a walk of two leagues, but coming in sight of a glimmering light they halted, while De Soto left them, walking rapidly away alone. He wended his way rapidly along toward the light, and soon came in sight of a handscme mansion situated in a park of pine trees, A dog sprung toward him, but a word quieted the savage bark into a low whine of pleasure, and the animal kept at his heels as he ascended to the piazza and entered the house. In a large sitting-rocm there were three per- sons, an old gentleman and lady, whose hair was turning white, and a young girl of thirteen as beautiful as a fairy. At sight of Leon De Soto the young girl, who was reading aloud, uttered a cry of delighted surprise, and sprung into his arms, ‘** Brother !—oh, brother!” ‘*My son! Home at last!” Such were the cries of delight that greeted the wanderer home, and in a few words Leon De Soto told how he bad landed from a vessel that had touched at the island, and had been sorry to remain away so long, but had been de- tained, as he had written them, far beyond the time he had expected to stay. ‘We received your leiter, my dear son, and were glad you were not here, for poor Cuba has suffered greatly, though Colonel Morelos is our friend,” seid the Senor De Soto. : ‘Father, Cvba bas indeed suffered; but now that the trouble is over, and the Insurgent leaders have been executed, I hope a time of quiet will come.” ‘¢ Poor Don Christobal!” said Ninez De Soto, sadly. ‘Ah! sister, he was not the only victim, as the senora, his beautiful wife, died under the shock of knowing his fate,” answered Leon. ‘¢ And the Senorita Estrella, and Isodor?” ask- ed Ninez. ‘‘ They feel deeply the sorrow put upon them, but are well, and America is their home now; but let me go to my room and make myself presentable, and you, sis, come with me, please, and order me some supper,” and telling his aged arents that he would soon return, Leon De oto left the room. ‘* Little sister, can you keep a secret?” he ask- ed, when they were alone together. ‘Try me, brother Leon,” was the quick an- swer, ‘ Where is Don Christebal buried?” ‘“In the Arbor woods, outside of the fan Jose Cemetery, where the Festivals are held,” ‘‘Good! are the graves marked?” ‘Yes: stones have been placed at the head of each, by order«of Colonel Morelos, and, oh! brother Leon! the inscyiptions thereon are most cruel!”