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Updated: June 14, 2025
Esteban caught one glimpse of the negro's face, a fleeting vision of white teeth bared to the gums, of distended yellow eyes, of flat, distorted features; then Asensio was fairly upon Colonel Cobo. The colonel, who had dropped his burden, now tried to dodge.
The stepson stood in his tracks, sick, blind with horror; he was swaying over the opening when Asensio dragged him back. Pancho Cueto, being a heavy sleeper, was the last to be roused by Esteban's outcries. When he had hurriedly slipped into his clothes in response to the pounding on his door, the few servants that the establishment supported had been thoroughly awakened.
The field was small, the jungle was close at hand. A moment and the interlopers had vanished into it, all but one, who lay kicking among the broad malanga-leaves, and over whom Asensio kept spurring his terrified horse, hacking downward with insane fury. This was the first hand-to-hand encounter Esteban's men had had, and their swift victory rendered them ferocious.
At length they crossed the summit and worked down toward the Yumuri, but it seemed as if daylight would never come. "A weary ride," Esteban yawned. "I shall sleep for a week." Asensio agreed. "That Cueto will be furious," said he. "Some day, perhaps, he and I will meet face to face. Then I shall kill him." Esteban reined in his horse. "Look!" said he. "Yonder is a light."
When emancipation came she would have returned to the service of her beloved twins had it not been for Dona Isabel's refusal to accept her. As it was, she and Asensio had married, and by means of Rosa's surreptitious help they had managed to buy this little piece of land.
Where to begin, how to tell you, I scarcely know; my hand shakes, my eyes are blinded nor dare I trust myself to believe that this letter will ever reach you, for we are refugees, Esteban and I fugitives, outcasts, living in the manigua with Asensio and Evangelina, former slaves of our father. Such poverty, such indescribable circumstances!
No one had told Asensio that the Government was leaving its prisoners to shift for themselves, supplying them with not a pound of food nor a square inch of shelter. Evangelina at first demurred to this idea, declaring that Rosa would never be allowed to reach the city, since the roads were patrolled by lawless bands of troops. Nevertheless her husband continued to argue.
Asensio slashed once at him with his long, murderous machete, but the next instant he was engaged with a trooper who had fired almost into his face. The other negroes also were in the open by this time, yelling and firing as fast as they could work the bolts of their rifles, and although they aimed at nothing in particular, the effect of their fusillade was all that could be wished.
The three of them grew weak with dismay at the horror of it all; but there was no retreat. Asensio built a makeshift shelter close under La Cumbre from it the ruins of the Quinta de Esteban were visible and there they settled down to live.
He sat there for a long time, grumbling inwardly, for the night was damp and he was sleepy; but at last a figure stole out of the gloom and joined him. The new-comer was a ragged negro, dressed in the fashion of the poorer country people. "Well, Asensio, I thought you'd never come. I'll get a fever from this!" Esteban said, irritably.
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