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The sun grew hotter and ever hotter upon his lacerated back: the blood dried and clotted there; a cloud of flies gathered, swarming over the raw gashes left by Cueto's whip. Before leaving for Don Pablo's quinta Evangelina came to bid her father an agonized farewell, and for a long time after she had gone the old man stood motionless, senseless, scarcely breathing.
After a conference with Asensio he decided that they must prepare for flight, and late that afternoon they all set out to seek a safer refuge, Evangelina in tears at leaving her precious garden plot. Their led horse, one of those Lorenzo had captured, carried a pitifully light burden only some tools, some pans and kettles, and a roll of charred bedclothes.
Even before Esteban had heard all, Lorenzo, the mulatto, reappeared, leading three cavalry horses and shouting extravagant praises of his own bravery. Esteban complimented him and the fellow galloped away again, voicing the most blood-curdling threats. Evangelina, thanks to her thick skull, was not dead.
A third followed, dragging Evangelina by one naked arm. The black woman was inert; her scanty garments were well-nigh ripped from her body: she lay huddled where the soldier flung her. Rosa felt herself swooning, and she knew nothing of what immediately followed. After a time she felt herself shaken, and heard the colonel addressing her. "Come, come!" he was saying. "Why don't you answer me?"
I left him with Gomez in the Orient. I have come to take you to him." "Esteban alive? Ha! You are fooling us." Evangelina wagged her head wisely. "We know better than that." "I tell you he IS alive," O'Reilly insisted. He heard.
My nightly prayer- -But I will not tell you of my prayers, for fate may guide this letter to you, after all, and the hearts of men do change. In those dark hours when my doubts arise I try to tell myself that you will surely come and search me out. Sometimes I play a game with Evangelina our only game. We gather wild flowers.
Even in peaceful times few people came to this clearing, in the woods, far off from the main-traveled roads of the Yumuri, and the day, as usual, passed uneventfully. Evangelina worked, with one eye upon her Rosa, the other watchfully alert for danger. When evening came she prepared their scanty meal, upbraiding Rosa, meanwhile, for her attempts to assist her.
Her poor tatters only enhanced her prettiness, so he thought. "Rosa dear! Do you think this is quite safe?" he ventured, doubtfully. Evangelina, who was bending over her husband, straightened herself and came forward with a smile upon her black face. "She is beautiful, eh? Too beautiful to look at? What did I tell you?"
How could it have been done? "These are the questions asked to-night by the frequenters of the cafes throughout the city, where the people of Havana congregate. It is conceded by all, by the officials of the palace included, to be the most daring coup in the history of the war, and the audacity of the deed is paralyzing. No one knows where Evangelina is now, nor can know.
Day was breaking when Esteban Varona bade his guests good-by at the door of his house. As he stood there Sebastian came to him out of the mists of the dawn. The old man had been waiting for hours. He was half crazed from apprehension, and now cast himself prone before his master, begging for Evangelina. Don Pablo, in whom the liquor was dying, cursed impatiently: "Caramba!
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