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Updated: September 23, 2025
"Rheumatism was a fool disease, anyhow," he muttered. "Great news!" Esteban Varona announced one day as he dismounted after a foraging trip into the Yumuri, "We met some of Lacret's men and they told us that Spain has recalled Captain-General Campos. He acknowledges himself powerless to stem the flood of Cuban revolution. What do you say to that?" "Does that mean the end of the war?"
He was not a superstitious man and he put no faith in the supernatural, nevertheless he was convinced that his sergeant was not lying, and reference to Pancho Cueto had set his mind to working along strange channels. He had known Cueto well, and the latter's stubborn belief in the existence of that Varona treasure had more than once impressed him.
From this distance the city looked quite as it did when he had left it, except that the blue harbor was almost empty of shipping, while the familiar range of hills that hid the Yumuri that valley of delight so closely linked in his thoughts with Rosa Varona seemed to smile at him like an old friend.
If, indeed, there had ever been a doubloon and if Esteban had found it in the dead hand of his stepmother, that, in O'Reilly's opinion, by no means proved the existence of the mythical Varona hoard, nor did it solve the secret of its whereabouts. What he more than half suspected was that some favored fancy had formed lodgment in Esteban's brain. "It's an interesting theory," he admitted.
"Where did you get the money to hire schooners and corrupt captains?" Branch inquired. "You were broke when I knew you." O'Reilly hesitated; he lowered his voice to a whisper. "We found the Varona treasure." Norine uttered a cry. "Not Don Esteban's treasure?" "Exactly. It was in the well where young Esteban told us it was." "Oh, Johnnie! You mean thing!" exclaimed the girl. "You promised "
Fields were empty, houses silent; no living creatures stirred, except in the tree-tops, and the very birds seemed frightened, subdued. It struck young Varona queerly. It was as if the whole land was in mourning; he saw nothing but blackbirds, somber-hued vultures, dismal Judea-birds with their ebony plumage and yellow beaks.
O'Reilly was up at daylight to offer his services in caring for Esteban Varona, but Norine declined them. "His fever is down a little and he has taken some nourishment," she reported. "That food you boys risked your silly lives for may come in handy, after all." "I dare say he won't be able to talk to me to-day?" O'Reilly ventured. "Not to-day, nor for many days, I'm afraid."
Later on, Cobo's men made a raid and killed a great many. Some few escaped into the high ravines, but Miss Varona was not one of them. Out of regard for Esteban I made careful search, but I could find no trace of her." "And yet, you don't know what happened?" O'Reilly ventured. "You're not sure?" "No, but I tell you again Cobo's men take no prisoners.
"Help me out, quick! Here, catch this rope." Johnnie managed to fling the coil within reach of his little friend and a moment later he had hoisted himself from that pit of tragedy. When Rosa Varona regained consciousness sufficiently to understand what had happened she proved herself a person of no little self- control.
He began to tremble violently and his breath became audible. Esteban was compelled to hold him down by main force. "Jesus Cristo! It's old Don Esteban, your father. They say he walks at midnight, carrying his head in his two hands." Young Varona managed to whisper, with some show of courage: "Hush! Wait! I don't believe in ghosts."
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