Ruth Wakefield realized, even as the terrific explosion occurred, that here was a turning point in the affairs of state and that, in all probability, her own country would, after this, become involved in the war that had been raging in Cuba, then, for about three years; it was with mingled feelings of dismay and dread that she surveyed the activity that very soon became apparent both in the harbor and in the city of Havana; she could see the lights of the rescuing boats as they circled about the scene of the wreck and even hear the groans and supplications of some of the severely wounded survivors, for the night was clear and the light wind carried the sounds from the harbor up to her window so that her very acute hearing told her that this was no casual accident, but, in all probability, a carefully planned holocaust in which her own much-loved native land would, inevitably be involved. Manuello was one of the first to rush out upon the streets of the little village after the terrific noise of the explosion had rolled away; he passed hastily from cottage to cottage asking the inmates if they were aware of the cause of it, for, being a little below the level of Havana Harbor, the inhabitants of San Domingo could not command a view of it. As no one seemed able to give him any explanation of the disturbing detonation, he even dared to approach one of the block houses held by the Spanish soldiery; here, he found everything in confusion and excitement ... men were hastily arming themselves so as to be in readiness for whatever orders might come from their superiors, and Manuello found no one among them who seemed much better informed than he, himself, was; he imagined that what he had heard had been the result of the consummation of the plans upon which he had stumbled earlier in the evening and started to climb to the top of the hill upon which Ruth Wakefield's residence was located in order to gain a view of Havana Harbor. Manuello had almost reached the very top of the hill before he realized that he had come out into the night without a weapon of any kind, and, no sooner had he made this disconcerting discovery than he became aware of some sort of movement directly in his rear; wishing to avoid whatever it might be, he hastily concealed himself and waited for the approach of his unseen companion in the darkness; the steps he had heard came along the path hastily, yet steadily, and the owner of them soon appeared; as he passed Manuello, the young fellow made out that the new-comer was none other than the village Priest who, as it seemed likely, was bent upon the same errand as the hidden peon; Father Felix kept on, sturdily, climbing the grade to the mansion on the hill; having reached the house he at once disappeared inside it and Manuello was again alone upon the hillside.