"If ever that declaration was truthfully made, it was made in the case of this brown-eyed, chestnut-haired girl, who was so anxious to please the man who made her sign. All she had was the simple red gown she had on her back and a bundle that contained a suit of clothes such as a planter's son might have worn. "Those were the clothes that Juan Sola wore when he ran up the gang-plank in Havana, with a big slouch hat over the chestnut hair, that even danger of discovery could not tempt her to cut, and a fat cigar between a red, laughing pair of lips that accidentally, maybe, blew a cloud of smoke into the face of the chief of police, who was watching that plank, and made the features of the young man very indistinct indeed. "There was no reason why the chief of police should scan too closely the young man with the big cigar. Juan Sola's passport had been duly issued by the Spanish government, and as far as the papers showed, there was no reason to suspect him. "Of course Juan Sola was the girl the correspondent had rescued from prison, and the fame of whose escape was on every tongue in Havana, the girl for whose capture the police had for three days been breaking into houses and guarding the roads, and yet she passed under their noses with no disguise but a boy's suit of clothes. "Miss Cisneros did not court any more danger than was necessary, and at once went to her cabin. The next day, however, when Morro Castle was left far behind, she appeared on deck, transformed into Senorita Juana Sola, alias Evangelina Cisneros. "When the ship sighted Cape Hatteras light the young woman asked what light it was, and when told that it was an American beacon, she knelt down in the saloon and prayed. After that she wept for joy. She must have been all strung up with excitement over her experiences, and when she saw the light she could contain herself no longer, but simply overflowed. "Nothing could be seen of the Cuban girl as the Seneca slowed opposite quarantine to permit the boarding of the health officer. The other passengers, after the habit of ocean travelers, grouped amidships to scan the vessel of the tyrant, who had it in his power to lock them all up in quarantine. The girl was hidden away in her stateroom, wondering what reception awaited her in the big city whose sky-line broke the horizon ahead. "The people on board were kind to her from the moment she revealed her identity, but at this moment when she had reached the haven of refuge, to gain which she and her gallant rescuers had risked death itself, she fled from the new-found friends and would not even look out of the door of her stateroom."