Tessa was very much distressed as to the condition of Manuello and, feeling that he depended upon her alone, cast about in her mind as to how she could assist him; to begin with, she was anxious about the heavy handcuffs hanging to his poor wrist, as she put it in her gentle thoughts of the man whom she suspected of being a murderer; if, however, the charge against him were true, she felt that the crime was committed in the heat of a jealous passion, and being what she was, herself, she excused it for that reason, for a Cuban girl is apt to love as madly and as unreasonably as any man ... to her, Manuello was almost a demi-god ... it had been a hard trial for the little woman to give him up to Estrella, even, and, now that he was in dire need and the girl of his first choice had deliberately deserted him, it seemed to her as if she had the right to let her own wild love guide her in all that she did with regard to him. She was slowly retracing her steps to her own home with the intention of getting some supplies and managing to evade the vigilance of the rest of her family sufficiently to carry them to the man she loved ... her eyes were directed to the path along which she walked, idly, yet, all at once, those dark eyes lighted up with sudden joy and she hastily swooped down, like a fluffy little bird upon a morsel of food, and took into her hand a small and intricate-patterned key; she hoped that this was the key that would unlock the hated manacles from Manuello's wrist and, regarding this as a good omen, she concealed the little deliverer in her bosom, tying it in the corner of the kerchief that was crossed upon her breast. When Tessa had secured what necessities she found available on the spur of the moment, she at once concealed them as far as possible and prepared to ascend the side of the hill toward the ruined hut where Manuello had directed her to come; her heart was fluttering wildly for this was her first secret mission, as she had always had someone near her during her short life on earth: she wound her way among the cactus plants that covered the ground in almost all directions, with an unerring instinct that was of more value to her than any education could have been for the moment, for one unaccustomed to the wild cacti in Cuba might, easily, become bewildered, as it is necessary to walk almost in circles among the thick clumps of prickly foliage.