Americans -- Cuba -- Fiction; Spanish-American War, 1898 -- Fiction
Ruth was hurrying to report the circumstances to the head surgeon and to
arrange to have searching parties sent out to bring back her pseudo
patient, when, passing the cot where old Mage was still stationed, she
noted that it was empty; stopping to inquire the reason for this change,
her old nurse hurriedly related the facts concerning the exodus of the
young man, while she secretly rejoiced at the success of her strategem,
for so she chose to denominate the method she had taken of protecting
her dear young lady from the nearness of the man she had married through
mistaken confidence.
Estrella, having been sent to consult with her friend concerning some
matter connected with the welfare of the temporary hospital, came along,
just then, and was told what had happened.
"Why," she exclaimed, "where has poor Manuello gone? He is not fit to be
outside alone. I am afraid I was a coward to leave him when he needed
care. Poor little Tessa would have stayed right with him no matter what
he said or did. I have not seen her," she mused, "for a long time,
now ... not since a number of days before we came away from home.... I
wonder where she is."
Could Estrella have seen her little friend at that moment, she would
have lost all pity for Manuello and added to that she already had for
poor Tessa, for she was then suffering from the last encounter she had
had with the man who had just fled out into the night; although the
little peasant would have been proud to have been made the wife of the
man whom she madly loved, yet she resisted the idea of being merely his
mistress for Father Felix had forcibly impressed upon the minds of the
girls of his flock the virtue of chastity; the consequence of this
resistance had been a blow received by herself which had rendered her
helpless for the time being, as it had made it impossible for her to
walk for any distance, and a slash across one of Manuello's dusky cheeks
which she had made with a knife she had happened to have in her hand at
the time of his attack.
The heart-sick girl was lying on the rude bed she had made for the man
who had left her without aid, in the deserted hut into which Estrella
had once peered, while her friend, so far away from her, was bemoaning
the fate of her ungrateful former lover.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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