The little Cuban rebel : $b or, A war correspondent's sweetheartWinfield, Edna
General
The little Cuban rebel : $b or, A war correspondent's sweetheart
Winfield, Edna
Cuba -- Fiction
"I am prepared to dare anything," said Estella, and catching up a few
things, she followed Cara out of the bedroom, taking the precaution to
lock the door after her, that the servants might suppose she was still
inside.
The lower floor of the mansion was easily gained. From this they passed
into the buttery, and here entered an arched place, which covered the
stream of spring water which flowed through the buttery to the river
beyond. It was a low opening, scarcely four feet high, and in places
they were compelled to wade through the water. Estella shivered with
the cold, but no thought of turning back entered her head.
"Here we are," said Cara, and stopped at a spot where there was an
opening overhead.
She thrust up a hand, and two rebel soldiers drew her up. Estella
immediately followed, and the little party ran for the shelter of some
bushes which lined the river bank. They were soon joined by the four
remaining rebels, who had been on guard about the mansion.
"The coast is clear," said the leader. "I trust we shall have as easy a
time at the city line."
No more was said. They walked to a bit of woods skirting the river, and
then entered a bypath leading to the rebel camp. In a quarter of an
hour the leader called a halt.
"We will go ahead and reconnoitre," he said. "You two women remain
where you are. This is where we came in. I want to see if our men are
still doing duty as Spanish pickets."
Estella and her maid were left behind in the shelter of a cattle
herder's lodge, and the soldiers went on silently, and with guns ready
for use. With wildly beating hearts, the pair waited for them to
return. Five--ten--fifteen minutes passed. Then suddenly they heard
half a dozen shots and loud shouting. Soon one of the soldiers came
running toward them.
"We are discovered! Run for it!" he cried, and hurried on.
Estella started and grasped Cara's hand. What course was now best to
pursue?
A bold light sprang into the beautiful girl's eyes.
"Cara, I am going to brave the pickets," she said. "I would rather die
than remain in the city."
"I will accompany you, no matter what the consequences," responded the
maid.
"But it may mean death, Cara."
"Let us hope for the best," was the cheery reply.
They left the lodge and struck out into the woods. The firing still
continued, but grew fainter and fainter to their ears. Soon they
reached the edge of the woods. Beyond was a large meadow filled with
grazing cattle.
"If we can but cross yonder meadow, I think we shall be safe," said
Estella. "Come! every moment is precious."
She went on, Cara closely following. The cattle looked up in wonder as
they flew along, but offered them no harm.
Presently a shout rang out from behind.
"Halt!"
"We are discovered, dear mistress!" cried Cara.
"Come, come! do not waste a second," ejaculated Estella. "Turn to the
left. Beyond that strip of brush is another meadow, and that must reach
beyond the picket lines."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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