"Hi, there! be careful!" he called out. And the sailor who had caused the mishap shouted back an apology. "I wish I knew her name!" thought Howard, coming back again to the subject of the fair stranger. "I wonder if it's written on that book? I'll walk up behind her and see, just for--for fun." He turned and approached from behind several chairs, some empty and others occupied. But just as he came within range the book was thrown down. "Look out, below there!" It was the warning cry of the officer who was superintending the repairs above. Howard Sherwood sprang back and looked up. The end of one of the yard arms had become loose, and was falling directly toward the spot where the fair young stranger was sitting. "Back!" cried Howard, as he leaped forward. The fair young creature was dazed, and hardly moved. As the heavy yard arm came down, Howard swung it aside, and it fell with a crash to the deck. It had missed those beautiful raven tresses by only a few inches. "Oh, señor!" came from the lips of the girl, as she tried to catch her breath. Then she gave Howard a look of unutterable gratitude. "You saved my life!" she added, in unmistakable Spanish accents. "Oh, I did not do much," was the young war correspondent's reply. "But I am glad you were not injured. That was very careless of you," he shouted to the sailors, and the officer berated the men soundly. The yard was immediately raised, and that was the last of any accidents with them. "I--I did not see the yard arm," went on the fair creature, giving Howard another grateful look. "You are strong, to throw it aside." "I was an active member of an athletic club for several years," smiled Howard, his eyes now bent full upon that fascinating face. "Allow me to introduce myself--Howard Sherwood, correspondent----" He stopped short. "I am a New York newspaper man." "Oh, indeed!" She added a few words in Spanish which he did not catch. "You are going down to Cuba to report the war?" she asked, with interest. "Partly for that purpose," he replied, slowly. "I have another object--to look up some property in which my family has an interest. "I see you are from Vassar," he went on, after a slight pause, and pointed to the song-book. "Yes, I have been at Vassar for two years. But now papa has written for me to come home--the war has upset everything, you see." "I trust it will not affect you," he smiled. "It affects papa, and that affects me." "And may I ask what side you are on?" "Oh, I--I--can't really say until I see what is being done. Papa, I know, sides with the royalists, but up at the college I read so much about Cuban liberty, I am rather in favor of it, señor. On account of my views, some of the girls call me Estella, the little Cuban rebel!" and she burst into a bewitching laugh. "Estella! That is a pretty name," he murmured. "May I ask the rest of it?" "Estella Inez Corona," she replied, demurely.