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Prisoner of Morro, A

<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> <h3>CLIF FARADAY'S SACRIFICE.</h3> It is needless to say that Clif stared at the man in amazement. But an instant before he had heard him state that he was willing to assume responsibility for them as prisoners. And now he was saying that they were free! But there was no time to ask any questions. Bessie Stuart was clinging to Clif's arm and urging him on. "Have you got some place to hide us?" she inquired anxiously of the officer. "It is hardly likely that I would leave you here," was the other's quiet answer. "Come." He led them away from the prison. A short distance off there was standing a small closed carriage. "Here it is," said the Spaniard. "Step in." Clif helped the girl inside; and then entered himself. He expected the officer to follow, but he did not; he clambered up with the driver. And the carriage rattled off down the road. Clif saw his chance then. He turned eagerly toward the girl. "Bessie!" he cried, "for Heaven's sake, tell me what this all means. Who is this man? And why is he setting us at liberty?" The girl sank back weakly in the seat. "I will tell you the story, Clif," she said. "There is plenty of time, for we have a long ways to go." "He is ruining himself for us!" Clif exclaimed. "For you! Why he will be court-martialed and shot if he lets us get away." "I know it," groaned the girl, choking down a sob. "I know it. We talked it all over beforehand. But it was a question of his life or mine." "Are you sure he is not tricking us?" gasped Clif—"kidnapping us?" The girl smiled sadly. "You do not understand the circumstances," she said. "Wait, and let me tell you." Clif missed in his friend the old self-reliant manner that she had always had; she was nervous and weak, and it was plain that she was not well. And Clif was trembling all over with anxiety as he watched her. "Go on!" he cried. "Tell me. How did you get here, in the first place?" "You left me with Gomez," began the girl, taking a deep breath. "I did not stay very long, for he was marching about, and I could not stand the strain. He wanted me to go to one of the Cuban villages in the interior where his family was; but I was anxious to get back to the United States. And so I came here to Havana——" "To Havana!" "Yes, for I thought no one would know me." "And Ignacio saw you?" "Yes, and recognized me. But that was only the other day." "Where were you meanwhile?" "I had a letter to the British consul, and I stayed at his home. There was so much suffering in this city that I couldn't stay idle. I used to go to the hospitals to take care of the poor people, the Cubans. And that was how I met Lieutenant Hernandez." "Who is he?" "He is the man who has rescued us. He had been hurt in the Matanzas bombardment, and one of his arms was terribly cut. I took care of him—he was there because the military hospitals were crowded. And, Clif, I—I—I guess he fell in love with me." The girl flushed as she said that. "I should not tell, perhaps," she went on, hastily. "But it is your right to know this, and you would not understand if I didn't tell you. Clif, he asked me to marry him." Clif started and turned pale. "Bessie!" he exclaimed in horror. The thought of that girl's marrying the Spanish officer was terrible. It flashed over him that that was the reason why the rescue had been attempted. "Oh, Bessie!" he cried again. Clif had never breathed a word of love to her in his life. But all through their trying journey through Cuba he had protected her, fairly worshiped her. And he had thought she understood his feelings. And now he thought that he had lost her—she had promised to be that officer's wife! It was no wonder that he felt his hands grow icy. His heart fairly stood still as he waited for the girl to go on. "I will tell you," said Bessie. "You must know in the first place that this man is a gentleman, a hero in fact. You will understand it when I tell you what he has done." "Go on." "When he left the hospital, as I say, he begged me to marry him—declared he would resign from the army if I would." The girl was breathing hard as she continued; it was evident that the subject pained her. "I felt so sorry for him," she said, in a low, trembling voice. "For I think it has nearly broken his heart. I refused him. I told him that I liked him, but I did not, I could not marry him. I had been kind to him because he was ill. He swore that he would die for me—and, Clif, I think he has nearly carried out his promise." Bessie Stuart choked down a sob. "I refused him," she said again. "And then came the horrible Ignacio. He saw me on the street. That was three days ago; and that same day I was placed under arrest." "What for?" "Why, Ignacio knew that I had been fighting with Gomez; you know we had a fight with some Spaniards when he was along. And so there was no chance for me. The British consul did all he could for me, but there was no hope. I could not deny the charges. And, oh, Clif, I have had a frightful time. I was taken over to those horrible dungeons in Morro. And I was sentenced to death. I was to be taken out and shot to-morrow." The girl stopped for a few moments to recover her composure. "And how did you find out about me?" asked Clif. "I will tell you," said Bessie. "But first I must go on about this Lieutenant Hernandez. I did not know it, but he was stationed over here. And when he found out what had happened to me he managed to come in to see me." And then Clif felt able to complete that story. "I suppose," said he, "that he offered to free you if you would marry him." Bessie Stuart smiled sadly. "You do not know the man," said she. "I will tell you what he did say. I can almost hear him saying it." "What?" "'Miss Stuart,' he said, 'you have said you do not love me. And I think you love some one else—I do not know whom; but I will not make you unhappy by urging you any more. I might take advantage of your present position to get you to promise to marry me. But I will not. If you will be ready to-night I will help you to escape, and prove what I said about dying for you.'" The girl stopped and sat silent, too much moved to speak. And Clif was too astonished. That was indeed the act of a noble nature. The cadet saw it all then, why the man had freed them and why he and the girl were both so quiet and sad. Lieutenant Hernandez had given his life for hers. It was fully a minute before anything more was said. Then Bessie Stuart began again, in a low voice: "About you," she said. "It was the lieutenant who told me, quite by accident. He said there were five Americans captured, one a cadet, and that he was to be killed. When I asked the name and he told me, I fainted dead away. And I think that hurt the lieutenant more than anything." "Why?" "I told him the story, how you had twice rescued me from the Spaniards. And he asked—he asked if you were his rival." The girl stepped abruptly. "And you said that I was, I hope," said Clif, quietly. Most women would have been embarrassed by a question such as that. But Bessie Stuart was not. There was some of the old-time self-possession in her voice as she responded. She turned and looked fairly into Clif's eyes. "I know you well enough to speak my mind," she said. "Yes, I told him that you were." And then the two sat perfectly silent, looking at each other. It was a very few words they had said, but they covered a lifetime of feeling. In that quiet way and under those strange circumstances Clif had unbosomed his heart; and Bessie Stuart had done the same. It was the first word that Clif had ever said to indicate how he felt toward her. For the two sat in silence for a minute or so; and then Clif went on: "You told this officer that I was his rival," said he; "that you loved me and that I was the only barrier to his hopes?" "I did," said the girl. "And he still was willing to save my life?" "You see what he has done," answered the other. "He said that he loved me, that he would risk his life to make me happy. And here we are." "But not happy," Clif added, half under his breath. Then again there was a long silence. One cannot say much when one feels as deeply as those two felt then. Clif thought of the heroism of that quiet Spanish officer. And his heart went out toward him. He fancied what the man's own feelings must be, the loneliness and the desolation. He had ruined himself, accepted voluntarily disgrace and a shameful death. And all in order that a woman who had been kind to him might be set free and made happy. Of the death there could be no doubt. When that officer was caught he would have it to face. And he would face it for the sake of Bessie Stuart. And moreover, he was aiding Clif, his rival, the one who was robbing him of his heart's desire; he was helping him to freedom so that the cadet, when his work in the war was done, might claim the woman he loved as his reward. That was heroism; not the noisy kind in the battle, which every one sees and applauds, but the quiet kind that knows it is right and cares for no one else. Clif felt that he could worship such a man as that. And it is needless to say that his conscience troubled him. What right had he to accept such a sacrifice? But the alternative was a terrible one. The lieutenant might flee with them to the United States; and then—— Clif could not finish the thought; it made him shudder. Just then Bessie Stuart spoke again. "Clif," she said, "I have something to say to you. And I shall speak plainly, for there is no time to hesitate. I have told you how I feel toward you; I have told you that I loved you. Neither of us would have declared our feelings, I suppose, if it had not been for this situation. But I have been with you for months, and I have never known you to do anything I could not admire. And mine is no childish fancy, Clif, for we have been doing the work of men, you and I. Clif——" The girl choked back a sob—and then went on: "We must stop," she said, "stop where we are." Clif knew what was coming, and he felt his blood surging. Bessie Stuart's hand was in his and it was trembling. For a moment she could not speak; the words would not come. But then with that terrible self-command she sometimes displayed, she mastered her emotion and turned to look into her companion's face. "Clif," she said, "you know what I mean. You must let me marry this officer." Clif had known, and so he did not move when he heard those awful words. He sat perfectly motionless, almost frozen; he felt the girl's hand turn cold in his. The carriage rolled on, and for at least one long, long minute there was not a sound. The girl was listening, trembling again; and Clif, half dazed was thinking to himself, thinking again and again of that death knell, "You must let me marry this officer." And it was true. Clif knew it. It was his duty; and the feeling lingered in his mind that if he had half the heroism of that Spaniard he would have said so long ago. At last he spoke. His mouth was dry and his voice husky, but he forced the words out. And they were the right ones. "Yes," said he, "you must marry him. And we must never meet again." And then once more came the terrible silence. Bessie Stuart heard him choke down a sob; and her heart was ready to break. For this cadet was the dearest friend she had. She had been through terrible dangers with him, coming to love him more every day, as she saw the brave man's daring. And no one could ever know now how she felt toward him. But there was her duty; and though she was nearly ready to faint, she sat perfectly motionless by his side. And so for two or three minutes they rode on in silence; then suddenly they heard the driver of the carriage stopping his horses. "We are there," said Clif, in a husky voice. He turned to look at the girl once more; he found that she was gazing at him, and their eyes met. There was anguish in both of their faces; Miss Stuart could scarcely see for her tears. But Clif took her hands in his. All the emotion of his lifetime seemed crowded into that moment. He bent toward her and their lips met in one trembling kiss. And then with a set look on his face the cadet rose from his seat and opened the door of the carriage, which had stopped. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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