A Prisoner of Morro Part 32

"He did."

"I am glad that I saved him," muttered the man.

Bessie Stuart was a little puzzled to catch the drift of that last remark. But she soon saw what it meant.

She was quite startled by the decision to which the Spaniard came.

"Miss Stuart," he began, in a low, trembling voice, "this is indeed a reward for my helping you. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it.

It shows me that those I helped were worth helping. And it makes me all the more sorry."

"Sorry?"

"Yes, sorry that it cannot be."

The girl gave a slight gasp.

"What cannot be?"

"I cannot marry you. I will not."

The officer paused for a moment, then he went on.

"It is plain to me," he said, "that you have wors.h.i.+ped this cadet. I do not blame you, after what I have just seen of him. I have heard of his bravery, too, and he is worthy of you--more so than I am. As I say, Miss Stuart, you love him; and you do not love me. You make this proposal to me from a sense of duty, and I cannot think of accepting it. You would never be happy again."

The girl started to protest, but the lieutenant held up his hand to stop her.

"No," he said, "there are more reasons, even stronger ones, I could not think of going to the United States. I could not think of turning traitor to my country. You forget, since I have helped you, that I am still a Spaniard; and while this war continues I shall remain with my countrymen."

"But they will kill you!"

"They may do what they please with me. It is not for me to say. I have done my duty; I will not become a traitor."

The officer was silent for a moment, sadly staring ahead in the darkness.

"You Americans forget how we Spaniards feel," he began slowly. "You think us foolish to fight for a dying country. I know that it is dying; for I am not one of those who blind their eyes and boast. I know that we are bankrupt and disorganized, our men dying, and our enemies closing in on us. We cannot keep up with modern nations. But, Miss Stuart, it is still Spain, my native land; my friends are there, my memories are there. And Spain's enemies are mine."

There was a gleam in the proud Castilian's eyes as he said that; but then he sank back with a sigh.

"It is useless," he said, "foolish, if you will. And I am tired of the struggle, tired of weeping at my country's trials, her follies. I shall be glad to leave. I can die without a murmur. When I go back to Havana I shall have no one to care about me, and it will soon be over."

The man stopped abruptly.

"I am through," he said.

"You say you have no one to care for you," said the girl. "I will care for you."

But the officer only shook his head.

"I should ruin your hopes," he said. "You must not think of me at all.

If I came I should have no way of taking care of you; I will stay in Cuba. And remember that I have done this to make you happy--because I love you. If I leave you unhappy I shall know that I have died for nothing."

And there the matter ended. The calm officer only shook his head to all of Bessie's arguments; he had his mind made up, and was as firm as adamant.

It seemed strange that the girl should be trying to persuade him to marry her; but in her earnestness she never thought of that. The man's sacrifice quite appalled her; she felt that she was not worth it, and she did all she could to persuade him of her sincerity.

But Lieutenant Hernandez was unmoved.

"I know that you love him," he said, "and I know that your heart is ready to break at the thought of leaving him. I can see it in the way you look at him. I knew it when you fainted when I spoke of his danger.

And I do not blame you, for he is a braver man than I. But I will not be coward enough to separate you. You would hate me."

"Hate you?"

"Yes, and every decent American, too. What else has any man for a traitor? I should kill myself for shame. No, no!"

And the girl realized to her despair what he said was true; but oh! how her heart went out to that man!

The officer rose to his feet just then, as if to close the painful discussion. Bessie Stuart rose, too, and she held out her hand to him.

He took and kissed it reverently; then his face still calm and dignified, he stepped to the door.

"It is best," he said, "that I should go."

"Can you not wait to see us start?" asked the girl.

"You will find a boat on the sh.o.r.e just in front of you," began the other. "And you had best start as soon as it is light. But there is n.o.body about here, and you are not in any danger. As to my staying, I will watch you from the woods, a short ways back. It would not be well for me to stay here, for I am human----"

The man paused a moment as he gazed into the girl's beautiful face.

"I am very weak," he said, with a sad smile. "I might accept the reward you offer."

And with that he bowed, then turned resolutely on his heel and strode away into the darkness.

As he did so he pa.s.sed Clif; and Clif, as he saw him leave rushed toward the dark figure that stood in the doorway of the hut.

What had been Clif's agony of mind may be imagined. When he saw the lieutenant going away it had flashed over him that perhaps he refused the act of treason implied in his going to America.

And Clif's heart began to throb once more with the wild hope he had tried so hard to suppress.

"Bessie!" he panted. "Bessie! What did he say?"

"He has gone back to Havana," was the answer.

For an instant the two stood staring at each other, their hearts throbbing with an emotion they were ashamed to call joy. Clif saw the girl's slender figure trembling.

And he sprang forward and caught her in his arms just as she fainted dead away.