MARY MANN
 
 JUANITA 
 
 A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE IN CUBA 
 FIFTY YEARS AGO 
 
 BY MARY MANN 
 
 BOSTON 
 D LOTHROP COMPANY 
 
 FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1887, BY 
 D. LOTHROP COMPANY. 
 
 ELECTROTYPED 
 BY C. J. PETERS & Sox. BOSTON. 
 
 BERWICK 4 SMITH, PRINTERS, BOSTON.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 II. 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 XI. 
 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 AFRICA 7 
 
 HAVANA 14 
 
 THE SALE 36 
 
 LA CONSOLACION . >i 
 
 THE DOGS 79 
 
 THE MARCHIONESS 94 
 
 THE DINNER 112 
 
 THE DRIVE 130 
 
 JUANITA 150 
 
 CAMILLA 161 
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE 169 
 
 THE AMERICANS 183 
 
 FANCHON 196 
 
 THE XE\V YEAR S I!ALL 204 
 
 CoCK-FlGHTINC. 2l8 
 
 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OK WIND . . . 222 
 
 PEDRO AND DOLORES 235 
 
 DONA JOSEEA 245 
 
 LA MODESTIA 251 
 
 THE TURTLE-DOVES 266 
 
 PARTED FAMILIES 288 
 
 Dox ANDRES 311 
 
 5 
 
 2072230
 
 O CONTEXTS. 
 
 XXIII. TULITA 323 
 
 XXIV. THE FLIGHT 351 
 
 XXV. SEWING 355 
 
 XXVI. DECEPTION 369 
 
 XXVII. CONSEQUENCES 376 
 
 XXVIII. REPENTANCE 383 
 
 XXIX. HOMEWARD IJOUND 392 
 
 XXX. DISSIPATION 402 
 
 XXXI. THE RETURN 411 
 
 XXXII. CUBA 423
 
 JUANITA: 
 
 A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE IN CUBA FIFTY 
 YEARS AGO. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AFRICA. 
 
 IN a beautiful valley on the border of a river, 
 about fifty miles from the western coast of Africa, 
 a party of natives had assembled under the shade 
 of a copse of trees to celebrate a rustic wedding. 
 The valley was nearly closed in by a circle of low 
 hills. From one of these summits a stream dashed 
 down and wound its way like a silver serpent, glis 
 tening in the sun s rays, through meadows, and by 
 bosquets of plumed bamboos and heavily laden 
 mango-trees. The feathery, acacia-like foliage of 
 a clump of tamarind-trees shaded the group of 
 figures as they reclined on the bank of the stream, 
 waiting for the decline of the burning tropical sun 
 before they consummated their simple ceremony^ 
 which was to be followed by a festive dance, for, 
 like other savage nations, the Africans consecrate 
 all national and social observances by the dance. 
 
 War and rapine had never invaded this little 
 valley of peace. It was separated from any other 
 
 7
 
 8 AFRICA. 
 
 tribe by the hills that surrounded it, and the wants 
 of its unsophisticated inhabitants were amply sup 
 plied by the productions of nature around them. 
 
 The plantain, the fig banana, the orange, and the 
 bread-fruit tree, the mameas or tree-melons, the 
 yam, and innumerable other fruits and vegetables ; 
 the delicate fish of the rushing stream, that shot 
 through the valley with the first impulse from the 
 hills that had given it birth ; the light game found 
 in the woods, and the birds that made the air alive 
 with music, furnished them with all the necessaries 
 of life. Two varieties of dwellings stood in the 
 valley : light bamboo structures, interlaced with 
 cocoa-leaves ; and more solid structures, formed of 
 mud and pebbles, which the sun soon baked, and 
 which were designed for shelter in the rainy sea 
 son. In these, abundant stores were laid by for 
 future use. 
 
 The Ayetans, for so we will call them, from the 
 name of their river, Ayete, had heard stories of 
 invading white men who stole their dark breth 
 ren from their homes and bore them away on the 
 backs of great birds, with snowy wings ; and, not 
 a great many years before the time of our story, 
 some young men, more enterprising than the rest, 
 had ventured beyond the hills, and were never 
 heard of again. A narrow opening, which the kid 
 nappers had never espied, wound into the valley 
 between two hills, and the native curiosity of man 
 had led them to explore it. But the Ayetans had
 
 AFRICA. g 
 
 by their seclusion escaped the common fate of the 
 tribes of western Africa thus far. 
 
 On this day, with the native taste which charac 
 terizes the African, they had chosen the prettiest 
 grove in their lovely valley to celebrate the nup 
 tials of their youthful chief with a maiden he had 
 chosen from the tribe. He was a tall and well 
 formed youth, and she was a lithe and bright-eyed 
 maiden. Labor had not stunted their growth ; 
 but fishing, hunting, and chasing the antelope, 
 had developed their limbs in graceful proportions, 
 and in their simple way they were as happy as 
 savages could be gentle specimens of savage 
 nature. The older members of the party were 
 resting in the shade ; the younger girls and lads 
 were chasing the innumerable butterflies of all 
 hues and sizes, and pulling off their brilliant 
 wings by way of preparing the more solid parts 
 of these " flying jewels " for what was to be the 
 wedding cake, a favorite food of the Africans, 
 which was to be made with their bodies and with 
 honey from the wild bees nests, and cooked over 
 embers that were burning on a little reach of 
 pebbly beach by the river. Groups of little chil 
 dren were paddling in the edges of the stream or 
 rolling upon the green sward. 
 
 A distant shout and the noise of fire-arms sud 
 denly startled them all from their repose and 
 amusements, and in a few moments, as they stood 
 huddled together, the dreaded white men, of whom
 
 10 AFRICA. 
 
 they had heard, followed, alas, by a savage troop 
 of howling negroes, burst into their midst. Then, 
 like frightened deer, they fled. But it was in vain. 
 Their enemies carried the lightning and the 
 thunderbolt in their hands. It was the first sound 
 of fire-arms that had ever assailed the ears of the 
 natives. It proved far more terrific than their 
 imaginations had pictured it. At every flash of 
 that concentrated lightning, and at every peal 
 of that mimic thunder, their companions fell dead 
 to the ground. The rest turned and knelt sup 
 pliant to these evil gods ; but they were bound 
 hand and foot, and borne away on the backs of 
 these black and white demons for their own 
 countrymen were there transformed into fiends by 
 the cruelties and bribery of the white men. 
 
 Only a few old people and very young children 
 were left in the valley, for such do not survive the 
 horrors of the middle passage. 
 
 On this festal day, many of the natives were 
 ornamented with chains and bracelets of the soft 
 gold which was found in the rivers and in the 
 sides of the hills, and which they knew the art of 
 moulding into these decorations. These did not 
 escape the eyes of the kidnappers, who commis 
 sioned a few of their number to sack the rude 
 habitations and store-houses of the negroes for 
 more booty of a similar kind. But the natives had 
 hoarded little gold. It was only preferred in 
 their eyes to the flowery chain because more
 
 AFRICA. t j 
 
 glittering and more permanent. They knew no 
 other value for it. Its discovery, however, doomed 
 the beautiful valley to desolation and still farther 
 carnage, for other parties soon came to inquire for 
 the locality of the gold, pitilessly massacred all 
 the inhabitants that were left, fed upon their 
 stores, and dug into their hill-sides till they had 
 exhausted the supply of the treasure for whose 
 possession they had become the fiends they 
 were. 
 
 When the kidnappers were weary of their bur 
 dens, and knew their prisoners were too much ex 
 hausted by the torment of their bonds to be able 
 to make any resistance, they unbound their limbs, 
 and, tying them together, led them by the thongs 
 a weary march to a barracoon near the coast. 
 There they were thrust into pits, and earth was 
 shovelled in around them till it reached the chin, 
 and thus they were left till they could be safely 
 embarked. Enough food was given them to sus 
 tain life, and this they were made to eat whether 
 they wished to do it or not. A guard was sta 
 tioned over them to prevent any sound from 
 issuing from their mouths, for these were deeds of 
 darkness, that must not be exposed. Some com 
 passionate ear might hear and betray, for English 
 vessels were occasionally nearing the coast for 
 this very purpose. Straw and other rubbish was 
 piled up in the corners of the barracoon, ready to 
 be scattered over the heads of these poor victims
 
 1 2 AFRICA. 
 
 if any symptoms of approaching danger were 
 scented in the air. 
 
 One wretched night and long day passed before 
 the negroes were released from their agonizing 
 positions. They were then huddled, in the dead 
 of night, between the decks of a vessel, where they 
 were laid side by side. There they were left to 
 move about what little they could, but if they 
 endeavored to thrust their heads out of the loop 
 holes for a fresh breath of air, they were beaten 
 back from without, such was the kidnapper s fear 
 of capture. Occasionally, when out at sea, a few 
 at a time were allowed to come upon deck. 
 Every day their dead were drawn out and thrown 
 into the sea, and thus they crossed the ocean to 
 the Spanish islands. 
 
 We will not dwell upon the countless sufferings, 
 the impotent ravings of the middle passage. From 
 this earthly hell they were glad to be set on any 
 shore, to breathe again the sweet breath of Hea 
 ven, to look at one another by the sun s light, to 
 count over the ranks of kindred and friends to see 
 who were left. All the sins of selfishness that 
 had developed themselves in the hours of suffering 
 were forgotten and forgiven. Hatred was felt 
 now for the oppressor only, and they still had the 
 privilege of uttering their common sentiments to 
 each other without being comprehended by their 
 tyrants. Every natural sign of hostility must be 
 suppressed, but the burning word of their native
 
 AFRICA. 1 3 
 
 dialect still remained to them, and this gift of 
 untrammelled speech was the only earthly boon 
 they now possessed. They no longer owned 
 themselves. Who could tell how long their 
 simple souls would be their own? for it is not 
 probable that they ever consciously realized the 
 possession, or would be likely to retain it, amid 
 the temptations and degradations of bondage. 
 
 Hitherto they had worshipped an unknown God 
 as the birds do, by song and dance, and by happi 
 ness but had not their God forsaken them ?
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HAVANA, 
 
 IT was a lovely clay, of golden sunshine and 
 balmy air, in the Island City. 
 
 On the veranda of a spacious court-yard, en 
 closed on all sides by the mansion of Don Miguel 
 Arbrides, sat some ladies, earnestly engaged in 
 conversation. 
 
 The setting sun was shining upon a mass of 
 brilliant clouds that rose to the zenith, and their 
 reflection threw a rosy tint upon the marble 
 walls of the mansion and the shrubbery within the 
 court, while a sparkling fountain threw up its 
 spray from a clear basin in the centre, giving 
 one a sense of coolness that was most refreshing 
 after the heats of a tropical day. 
 
 Below the veranda, or piazza, which ran all 
 round the building, were the domestic offices. 
 They were unusually spacious for a city, for Don 
 Miguel was a successful slaver, and, in addition to 
 his household dependents, often had a supply of 
 slaves in preparation for the market. He had just 
 returned from a profitable voyage, and the numer-
 
 HA VANA. j 5 
 
 ous people seen below were some of the fruits. 
 He owned extensive slave-pens in the country, 
 within fifty miles of the city ; and from these 
 depositories small gangs of bozals, as the newly 
 arrived negroes were called, were from time to 
 time brought into the city by night, and placed in 
 this domestic slave-pen, where they were attended 
 by a skilful physician, who prescribed for the 
 maladies incurred on the voyage ; and when such 
 a gang was pronounced by him in good condition, 
 it was sent to the slave market in the vicinity of 
 the city, and few slaves there sold brought such 
 good prices. Formerly slave-pens were within 
 the city walls, where medical men attended regu 
 larly, but since the treaty of 1817 with England, 
 which made all slaves contraband who were 
 brought to the island, it was safer to land 
 them upon some unfrequented part of the coast. 
 Thence, so many as were not disabled were 
 marched, chained together, to such plantations as 
 required recruits and had engaged them beforehand, 
 and even to the villages of the interior where they 
 were sold, for no troublesome English commis 
 sioner resided in the country, and the one in the 
 city took no pains to inform himself of disobedi 
 ence to the treaty, knowing that the Captain 
 General received so much a head from the slaves, 
 and was therefore specially blind and deaf upon 
 that subject, which made his commission practi 
 cally abortive. The usual form through which he
 
 !6 HAVANA. 
 
 passed when he did confiscate a cargo, was to 
 throw the captain into prison, from which, after a 
 few months, he would be sent into the country by 
 a physician, on a plea of ill health : and, very pos 
 sibly, a week or two later the commissioner would 
 meet him in the street, just ready to re-embark in 
 the employ of some other slaver, like Don Miguel 
 Arbrides, who was* wealthy enough to pay the fine 
 and all collateral expenses. It was not often that 
 a wealthy slaver commanded his own vessel, but 
 Don Miguel, though a pleasant gentleman at home, 
 had practical proclivities, and liked the excitement 
 of the chase ; and even looked forward to taking 
 his own son with him when he should be of suit 
 able age. But of this anon. Less popular or less 
 wealthy men would not have brought such slaves 
 into their own places of residence within the city, 
 for fear of inconvenient consequences ; but who 
 wished to give offence to such a man by saying 
 that those were emancipados, and had a right to 
 their freedom ? Not the people who visited his 
 splendid mansion and partook of his lavish hospi 
 talities ! In such communities it is not considered 
 good manners to complain of one s neighbors and 
 acquaintances. The enslaving of fellow-men who 
 are defenceless is a trifle in comparison. 
 
 As far as practicable, such slaves were sold into 
 the country, for in the city they might in time learn 
 of their rights from the free negroes, of which Ha 
 vana contains some forty thousand, and every addi-
 
 HAVANA. ij 
 
 tion adds to the constantly impending fear of 
 insurrection. 
 
 In one corner of the court-yard, a knot of people, 
 who, apparently, had no part in the domestic ser 
 vice, were gathered together and earnestly engaged 
 in conversation in a language which no one else 
 could understand. The slaves of the household 
 occasionally mingled with them, but evidently 
 could not communicate with them. A beautiful 
 little boy, son of Don Miguel, might be seen 
 threading his way amongst them, and giving them 
 oranges and little articles of confectionery. 
 
 Tulita, the dark-browed Spanish maiden, was 
 the very embodiment of loveliness and goodness. 
 No tenderer heart ever beat than hers for her 
 friends, for her pet dog, her birds, for the poor 
 padre who begged at the door, for the sick negro 
 who was consigned to the domestic hospital of 
 her father ; but she had never questioned the pro 
 priety of his seeking slaves on the African coast, 
 or selling them at home. Her father was a kind 
 and tender father, though his wealth was acquired 
 by the theft and sale of his fellow-beings. Indeed, 
 it was a jubilee all through the family circle, which 
 was large and well-to-do, when Don Miguel re 
 turned from his voyages, for his return was the 
 signal for many a festivity, which he specially 
 enjoyed and liberally promoted ; and he was 
 always well furnished with the soft golden chains 
 and trinkets made on the coast, which he distrib-
 
 1 8 HAVANA. 
 
 uted among his friends. He did not own any 
 plantations, for his occupation was on the high 
 seas ; but there were many on which he was a 
 welcome guest ; and when he was at home in 
 \vinter, the season for visiting, Tulita passed brill 
 iant and joyful days in the country. 
 
 Miss Wentworth had gone to visit a friend in 
 Cuba with the northern feeling upon the subject 
 of slavery. At that time, it might be said to be 
 rather a negative feeling. It was before the 
 agitation of the question of human rights had 
 stirred the foundations of society. The contro 
 versy between abolitionists and colonizationists 
 had just begun. She knew that she was going to 
 a land of slavery, but she had no expectation of 
 being plunged into the midst of it. In her child 
 hood she had heard a respectable old negress, who 
 lived in the neighborhood of her mother s house, 
 tell the story of the abolition of slavery in Massa 
 chusetts, when she had emerged from a mild form 
 of that institution into the enjoyment of perfect 
 freedom and ownership of self, and she told it elo 
 quently but without entering into the details of 
 cruelty and injustice. A respectable community 
 of colored people resided in the town, and Miss 
 Wentworth had seen them, arrayed in their best at 
 tire, congregate together on the anniversary of the 
 day of emancipation, which they celebrated with 
 dances, sometimes with revels, which were laughed 
 at but not sympathized with. She had known
 
 HAVAA T A. ig 
 
 excellent persons of color in domestic service. 
 She had helped to teach their children to read, 
 and had gathered them in the Sunday-school. She 
 knew that their mothers were afraid to trust them 
 out after dark, for fear of the kidnapper ; and 
 this had been her most painful knowledge, for 
 she knew slavery was not far off, and that that 
 was a real danger. She knew the colored people 
 were not allowed to ride in public conveyances, and 
 had indignantly sympathized with her own nurse, 
 who was obliged to pay largely for being carried 
 into the country, in a private conveyance, to 
 see her old mother. She had shuddered over oc 
 casional accounts of the horrors of the middle 
 passage, but her mother had tenderly guarded her 
 children from the knowledge of extreme cruelties, 
 and her impression was that they were excep 
 tional. Indeed, slavery was a name rather than a 
 reality to her. The pecuniary interest northern 
 people had in southern plantations often the 
 ownership of them made it invidious to dwell 
 upon the subject, and sealed the eyes of hu 
 manity, down to the time when Garrison boldly 
 attacked the monster crime. Even long after 
 that, it was considered not genteel to say 
 too much about it, all which condition of 
 things threw dust in the eyes of society. Col 
 onization had excited some interest in the be 
 nevolent, but the general voice condemned any 
 suggestion of immediate measures of emanci
 
 2Q HA VANA. 
 
 pation, or relief for the oppressed. There was 
 no faith in human nature large enough to com 
 pass the idea that emancipation from bondage 
 would call forth any but the baser passions of 
 revenge and indiscriminate destruction. It yet 
 remained to be seen that the long enslaved would 
 receive freedom on their bended knees, and with 
 songs of thanksgiving. It was supposed that, like 
 the Anglo-Saxon race which had enslaved them, 
 they would turn and rend their oppressors. That 
 they can feel gratitude and affection for kind 
 ness among their oppressors when in bondage, 
 did not suggest the inference that they would 
 be much better, instead of worse, for the boon 
 of liberty. 
 
 A few days residence in a slave-country had 
 rudely waked Miss Wentworth from her compar 
 ative insensibility to the fact of slavery. She 
 now saw the degradation and helplessness of a 
 class of men and women whom she had hitherto 
 looked upon practically as almost fabulous. She 
 learned with a shudder that she was residing in a 
 house of a slave-catcher, a class of men whom 
 she had previously thought of as the embodiment 
 of all that is brutal and demoniac in human 
 nature, but one who was, in fact, respected in 
 society, outwardly like his fellow-men, and pos 
 sessing many of the qualities of a man and a gen 
 tleman. She had accidentally learned that day 
 that the slaves below were about to be sold at
 
 HAVANA. 21 
 
 auction, and she had inquired, with startling 
 earnestness, whence they came and whither they 
 were to be sent. 
 
 Tulita, with all simplicity, had revealed all the 
 arcana, which those more conversant with non- 
 slave-holding communities would have concealed. 
 The wife of Don Miguel had visited American 
 cities before her marriage, and had some glimpses 
 of the state of feeling on the subject ; but courtesy 
 to a guest, and that guest a young lady, had pre 
 vented her feelings from being hurt, or even 
 
 O O 
 
 roused by it. She was now for the first time, as 
 a mother, made aware of what the feeling might 
 be ; for her husband had already intimated that 
 he should take his son with him, when a little 
 older, to initiate him into the business. Her 
 maternal instinct made her sympathize with Miss 
 Wentworth s ill concealed disgust and indignation, 
 but she wisely concealed it, in the fear of her hus 
 band s displeasure. Nothing makes a slave-holder 
 so angry as any question of his rights, as he calls 
 them. 
 
 "Did your father go for them himself?" asked 
 Miss Went worth, her blood boiling within her at 
 the thought of the courtesies she had received at 
 his hands. 
 
 " Ah, yes, indeed ! " said Tulita, "and they will 
 be so much better off now. They were all ill when 
 they came, but they arc all well now." 
 
 " Poor creatures ! " exclaimed Miss Wentworth ;
 
 22 HA VAX A. 
 
 " they were brought forcibly away from their 
 homes, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes, but papa says they are taken from the 
 most cruel slavery on the coast and brought here to 
 a Christian land. They were all baptized a few days 
 ago, and now can have Christian burial when they 
 die," and Tulita crossed herself devoutly. 
 
 " A Christian land ! " exclaimed Miss Went- 
 worth, with an emphasis that brought a surprised 
 look into Tulita s face. "But there would be no 
 slavery on the coast if there were no slave-traders." 
 
 "Oh, yes, there would!" said Tulita. "The 
 African tribes make slaves of their enemies, and 
 it is a mercy to them to bring them here! These 
 people whom you see below are much more civ 
 ilized than usual. They were all baptized with 
 Christian names the other clay, and Carlito and I 
 chose the names. They were so pleased, and all 
 spoke their names very well. None of the rest 
 understand their language, so we can t find out 
 much about them. Carlito spent a great deal of 
 time teaching them their names, and he says 
 mamma Francisca thinks those two you see talk 
 ing together are lovers, and he has been teasing 
 papa to let them be married." 
 
 "They will not know what it means, perhaps, but 
 it may keep them from being separated," and with 
 these words Carlito, who had climbed up, threw 
 himself over the balustrade, and climbed down 
 from the gallery like a squirrel.
 
 HAVANA. 23 
 
 "Separated!" repeated Miss Wentworth, the 
 truth beginning to dawn upon her. " Are families 
 separated to be sold?" she almost gasped out. 
 
 "Oh, yes, to be sure; that is, sometimes," said 
 Tulita, for the first time thinking anything about 
 it. " It does seem cruel, but papa says they don t 
 care." 
 
 "Not care!" 
 
 "Oh, they are not like us, you know." 
 
 "I do not know any such thing! they must 
 have human affections if they are human beings ! " 
 
 "I should hardly think so," said Tulita, "for 
 papa says they are in the habit of killing their own 
 children." 
 
 "Probably to save them from slavery," said 
 Miss Wentworth. " I like them all the better 
 for it." 
 
 "But they do it in Africa it is an African 
 vice." 
 
 "Did you not say they were victims of slavery 
 there, too ? Probably the vice does not exist 
 except in connection with slavery. It is too 
 unnatural a one. Animals love their young and 
 defend them frantically when attacked, without 
 taking any precautions for themselves; it is 
 impossible that human beings should be below the 
 animals in that respect. Nothing could make me 
 believe it. I know the colored people of our own 
 country. They are below the generality of whites 
 in education or position ; but many of them are
 
 24 HA VANA. 
 
 good people, and some of them quite respectable in 
 intellect. I am sure of it, for I have taught some 
 of them to read." 
 
 The conversation, to the great relief of Tulita, 
 who was beginning to see what she had never seen 
 before, was here interrupted by the entrance of 
 Padre Jean, a jovial, benevolent-looking Irish indi 
 vidual, in a Franciscan garb, whom Tulita greeted 
 very warmly and introduced to Miss Wentworth. 
 
 "And how is the Senorita, your mamma? and 
 how is my boy Carlito?" he inquired. 
 
 Tulita told him how he was engaged. 
 
 "Foolish boy!" said he, "is papa going to 
 indulge him ? Where are his lovers ? I suppose 
 they will only quarrel the sooner if they are mar 
 ried, but I will marry them if Don Miguel says 
 so," and the fat priest laughed merrily. 
 
 At this moment Carlito came scrambling over 
 the balustrade in great excitement. " Oh, where 
 is papa ? I want to see him this minute ! " 
 
 "Carlito, you have not spoken to Father Jean." 
 
 " Oh, how do you do, Father Jean ? but where 
 is papa ? " 
 
 " I think he is at home ; but what is the matter ? " 
 
 Papa evidently heard the demand ; for he now 
 entered, asking Carlito what he wanted in such 
 haste. 
 
 " My boy is crazy over some negroes we have 
 below, whom no one can understand, so he cannot 
 gratify his curiosity about them."
 
 HAVANA. 25 
 
 "Oh, papa! let me tell you. Juacomo has just 
 come back, and he says they came from his country, 
 and he can understand them and mamma Fran- 
 cisca was right ! they are lovers, they were just 
 going to be married when they were carried off. 
 Juacomo says he is Dolores uncle ; he came away 
 a great many years ago, when she was a little girl. 
 He says Pedro is the king ; and oh, papa, he did 
 so to him,"- making obeisance. "That is the way 
 they do to their kings when they speak to them. 
 I asked him if they would like to be married now, 
 and he said they would. Oh, papa ! won t you let 
 Padre Jean marry them ? Padre Jean, will you 
 marry them ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, if papa says so, I should like to marry 
 them. But Juacomo must tell them what it means, 
 for they will not understand what I say ; perhaps 
 Juacomo can tell you how they marry people in 
 the place where he came from." 
 
 Carlito was over the balustrade and out of sight 
 in a moment, shouting, "I will ask him." 
 
 He soon returned, breathless. 
 
 " Juacomo says they jump over a stick, and some 
 body takes a long shawl or a string, and winds it 
 round them, and then they dance together. Oh, 
 how pretty it will be ! papa, you will let them be 
 married, won t you ?" 
 
 " I think you had better have waited till you 
 found out before you went quite so far, my boy. 
 I suppose they know all about it now, and Juacomo
 
 2 6 HA VANA. 
 
 will be greatly disappointed if it is not done, but 
 this is the last time you must ask such a thing, 
 Carl," and Don Miguel looked more grave than 
 was his wont. 
 
 Carlito did not wait to discuss the matter, but, 
 securing the permission, he was soon out of sight 
 again, and came up the other way, dragging the 
 two astonished negroes after him, followed by 
 Juacomo and a crowd of men and women, with a 
 stick and a long scarf, which he had obtained from 
 one of the house-servants. 
 
 " Ah, these are some of the people I baptized 
 the other day. Lend me your ring, Miss Tulita, 
 and I will soon have them married." 
 
 Juacomo laid the stick upon the floor, and held 
 the scarf ready. After Padre Jean s ceremony and 
 the placing of the ring, at a signal from Juacomo, 
 the two took hold of hands and jumped over the 
 stick, and Juacomo wound the scarf around them. 
 At this moment, the negroes present, with one ac 
 cord, clapped their hands, which was a signal for 
 the dance ; but Don Miguel, with one wave of his 
 hand, signified to Juacomo that that could not be 
 allowed, and they descended to the court below, 
 where instantly the whole crowd threw themselves 
 in wild excitement into the most violent contor 
 tions, accompanied with measured clapping of 
 hands and wild screaming, and for a few moments 
 it was as if pandemonium was let loose ; but this 
 again was of brief duration, for as soon as the
 
 HAVANA. 27 
 
 order could be communicated it was hushed, and 
 they were all driven to their quarters and locked 
 in. Don Miguel was undoubtedly aware that he 
 could not go too far in his violations of legal pro 
 visions ; and, although it seemed hardly possible 
 that any amount of noise in that closed court could 
 be heard over the incessant and uninterrupted din 
 of the city, it could not be risked. But the few 
 moments in which nature had resumed its sway 
 over these savages made a fearful impression upon 
 Miss Wentworth. It seemed to her that in those 
 screams she heard the long suppressed agony burst 
 forth, which the new surroundings of these un 
 happy people had pent up within them. With an 
 excuse she left the company, and Tulita followed 
 her. For the first time the latter had realized that 
 the African slave had sentiments like her own, for 
 marriage is not promoted by the slave-holders, and 
 this was the first time she had ever witnessed such 
 a scene. Dona Lucia mastered her tears, as she 
 had often done before, and Padre Jean was left to 
 take counsel with the elders. 
 
 Francisca was summoned to put Carlito to bed, 
 when he gave his father the good-night kiss. 
 
 "This will never do," said Don Miguel. "Let 
 us have no more such fooling, Carlito, or I shall 
 never let you go down among the people again." 
 
 Carlito had never before heard a word of reproof 
 from his father, and evidently was not acquainted 
 with that face in anger. It was indeed a changed
 
 2 8 HAVANA. 
 
 face. This was the slaver, and Dona Lucia shud 
 dered when she saw the expression of which his 
 countenance was capable. 
 
 The friar tried to turn the conversation, but it 
 was impossible to guide it into a gay or happy 
 channel, and he soon took his leave. His was not 
 the mission to turn the sinner from his ways, and 
 he regretted that he had called that day. 
 
 So great was Dona Lucia s dread of the subject 
 of Carlito s future, that she commanded herself 
 sufficiently to sit down to her piano, which, she 
 knew by experience, could soothe her husband s 
 ruffled feelings ; for her playing was of no ordinary 
 merit, and he had a Spaniard s love of music. 
 
 Throwing herself into the luxurious boutacle 
 that stood by her window, long and deep was Miss 
 Wentworth s reverie. Her life had been one of 
 many experiences, though she was not advanced in 
 years. She had been a daughter, a sister, a friend, 
 and had felt all these relations to society keenly. 
 She had buried parents, brother and sisters, friends. 
 She had seen the loved go astray, and had labored 
 long to conduct them into the right path again, 
 sometimes without success. 
 
 She had loved nobly, and not in vain ; but she 
 had seen the object of her affections die an early 
 death, while in the prime of life and usefulness. 
 
 All the resources of a cultivated intellect, of 
 high principles, of sanctified affections, had been 
 called into requisition to enable her to bear up
 
 HA VAN A. 
 
 2 9 
 
 under these calamities, which deepen the character 
 they do not discourage, and set the world s shows 
 in their true light. She thought she had sym 
 pathized with the oppressed of all climes and of all 
 times ; but her home had been in the freest nation 
 of the earth, and in the most advanced portion of 
 that nation. Her forefathers had been prominent 
 in service and suffering for the cause of human 
 rights, and she had been nursed upon the stories 
 of these sacrifices and these sufferings. She now 
 felt as if oppression and slavery had been mere 
 words to her. Within a few hours, the deepest 
 crime against man had been brought forcibly to 
 her notice, and the perpetrators of it had an hon 
 ored position in society, practised the common 
 social virtues, and would undoubtedly feel insulted 
 if their characters were called in question. Could 
 she stay where all distinction between good and evil 
 seemed to be obliterated ? At first she thought 
 not. 
 
 "How could Isabella have consigned me to the 
 keeping of such a family, even for a few days ? " 
 she asked herself. 
 
 But a second thought suggested that she had 
 no right to lose this opportunity of observation, 
 for was there not the same plague-spot fester 
 ing in the heart of her own country ? The noble 
 Pollen, the saintly Channing, were her friends, 
 and from this standpoint she comprehended the 
 feeling that had thrown them into the ranks of
 
 30 HA VANA. 
 
 that small and contemned party which was labor 
 ing at home to waken society to a full conception 
 of its duty upon this momentous theme. 
 
 Before her feelings had regained any measure 
 of composure, Tulita entered her room to invite 
 her to drive to the public square, to listen to the 
 music of the black band, that played from nine 
 to ten every evening in the square before the 
 Governor s palace. Glad to receive any relief 
 from her present feelings, she accepted the 
 invitation, and stepped into Tulita s beautiful 
 quitrin, which accompanied that of her father 
 and mother. 
 
 Governor Tacon had been but a short time in 
 office, but among his many improvements in the 
 outer world of Cuban life was the transformation of 
 the city of Havana from the most dangerous to the 
 safest city in the world. Two years before, no 
 man could walk the city after nightfall with safety. 
 A powerful banditti held it in bondage. Murders 
 were of common occurrence, and, the moment 
 there was any disturbance in the streets, every 
 inhabitant who had a shelter rushed under cover, 
 and locked the doors, for the sword that hung 
 over the city was the fear of insurrection. Mem 
 bers of the banditti would call the householders to 
 the door, and demand enormous sums of money, 
 on the penalty of shooting on the spot, or by 
 threats which the victims knew too well would be 
 fulfilled, and that none would dare to complain or
 
 HA VAN A. 3 I 
 
 to testify against the murderers. The victims of 
 assassination in the streets were not picked up by 
 their friends, because the judiciary was so corrupt 
 that legal action would soon impoverish the richest 
 man. If robberies were committed in the ware 
 houses and shops, the owners would carefully 
 obliterate all vestiges of the deed the next day, for 
 the same reason. It was less costly to lose in the 
 one way than in the other, for litigation might be 
 prolonged for years. If a man was thrown into 
 prison, the chances were that he would linger 
 there all his life, his expenses charged to his estate 
 or those of his friends. Not long before Tacon s 
 administration, a wealthy man was assassinated by 
 mistake, in the street, taken for another man. 
 The family claimed his body of the authorities, 
 and the litigation continued until his widow was 
 obliged to buy up all the papers, at great cost, to 
 save herself wherewith to live. No decent woman 
 dared to set her foot upon the pavement except to 
 step into her volante, and an evening ride must be 
 well escorted to be safe. Foreigners sometimes 
 infringed upon these customs, but only in emer 
 gencies, and then at the risk of losing caste 
 unless their infringements were pardoned by 
 Spanish courtesy as sins of ignorance. 
 
 But all this was changed. The square before 
 the Governor s house, which was formerly a quag 
 mire whenever it rained, was now laid down in 
 what looked like polished marble, a cement made
 
 32 HAT A A A. 
 
 of the lime of the country and the red soil, and 
 pounded, while still wet, to a fine consistency. 
 This platform, splendidly illuminated, was filled 
 between the hours of nine and ten with crowds 
 of ladies, of all ranks, who owned or could hire a 
 volante. They paraded the stone floors arrayed 
 in their most elegant attire, sparkling with jewels, 
 and unbonneted, as in the ball-room, listening to 
 the divinest strains of Italian and German music, 
 played by the matchless band, whose fame is 
 world-wide. I say listening, for the decorum of 
 Spanish society is to be quiet, instead of talkative, 
 even in their dances, and especially when music is 
 the entertainment. 
 
 The banditti was suppressed. Tacon s rules 
 were imperative. No man of any rank was al 
 lowed to be in the streets after nine o clock with 
 a weapon of any kind. The espionage of the Gov 
 ernor bordered upon the miraculous. It extended 
 even to the villages and plantations of the inte 
 rior, and every one who was ready to keep order 
 breathed freely and enjoyed life. 
 
 An ancient tree, which had stood in the square, 
 and had the reputation of being the tree under 
 which Columbus is said to have reposed, and 
 which was very dear to the Habaneros, was ruth 
 lessly removed by Tacon, to make way for his 
 platform ; all men stood breathless before his de 
 crees. He had a large standing army at his beck, 
 and exercised his despotic power without regard
 
 HA VAN A. 
 
 33 
 
 even to the remonstrances of his nobility, which 
 had hitherto been lawless. 
 
 Nothing could be more in consonance with the 
 feelings of Miss Wentworth than the impassioned 
 strains of Bellini s " Pirata," which was at that mo 
 ment the favorite music of the Habaneros, per 
 formed every night at the opera by the Pedrotti, and 
 reproduced on every musical instrument in the isl 
 and, but chiefly and most marvellously by the 
 black band of the city troops, who had no other 
 occupation in time of peace than to improve their 
 music. This band was composed of colored free 
 men, many of whom enter the profession of music, 
 and in whose ranks have appeared composers of 
 music which has been played throughout the mu 
 sical world. 
 
 Every noise is hushed in that great city while 
 the four bands of the regiment play in the four 
 respective squares. The muleteer arrests his steps 
 and sits in profound silence upon his willing animal 
 during the hour ; the calesero * checks his horses 
 to catch the near or distant strain. No bell is 
 struck. The crying child is shut within the 
 house. The barking dog is soothed or muzzled, 
 for Tacon has decreed that it shall be so ; and this 
 decree, added to the love of music in the southern 
 heart, hushes every sound, as in former days the 
 matin or vesper-bell arrested all worldly pursuits 
 and turned every thought heavenward. 
 
 * Volante-driver.
 
 34 HA VANA. 
 
 Such holy pauses in life are of inestimable 
 worth amid the din of cities, where it is so diffi 
 cult to turn the mind from the world and its 
 pleasures and strifes. But, like all other religious 
 observances, the vesper prayer ceased at the time 
 when the revolutions in Spain produced anarchy 
 and misrule in the colonies. The Sunday morn 
 ing mass would probably have followed, but the 
 custom of going from that to the cock-fight kept 
 up the observance. A quarter of an hour in the 
 church and the rest of the day at the cock-fight ! 
 This is the Havana Sunday, and, indeed, the 
 custom is the same all over the island. Men are 
 apt at times of political revolutions to think lib 
 erty means license ; and here the unclevout, once 
 liberated from the pressure of public opinion, 
 never returned to his idols, and national religion 
 was at an end. 
 
 But I wander from the scene I was describing. 
 When the clock struck ten, the music ceased, 
 the company ascended their carriages, and in half 
 an hour or less the square was empty, and the 
 natural sounds of the city life resumed their 
 sway. 
 
 Thus far Tacon had made himself respected as 
 a just though a severe ruler. None dared to dis 
 obey openly, not even the hitherto privileged 
 class, the orders of Castihan and sugar nobility. 
 The last mentioned class was composed of those 
 sugar-planters who had acquired sufficient wealth
 
 HAVANA. 35 
 
 to buy titles from the mother-country. The 
 sugar-plantations cannot be confiscated for debt. 
 This bounty upon titles robbed the island of that 
 wealth which should have been expended for its 
 improvement, and up to that day there were not 
 even high-roads upon it. 
 
 Of late, the new Governor had given some indi 
 cations that he was no respecter of persons if any 
 one interfered with his plans ; but privileged 
 classes find it difficult to realize that they are 
 amenable even to wholesome laws. So corrupt is 
 society in this respect, whether in despotic Spain 
 or in our own country of boasted freedom, that 
 in both, in spite of the popular cry against rank, 
 the wealthy and the powerful are safer from the 
 earthly consequences of sin than the poor and 
 lowly. 

 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SALE. 
 
 EARLY on the morning of the clay after the 
 wedding, as Carlito called it, the doomed party 
 emerged from their quarters under Don Miguel s 
 proud mansion, neatly but coarsely arrayed, 
 washed, combed, and ready for the sacrifice. 
 Bozals are preferred on many accounts to older 
 residents, particularly on plantations, where they 
 learn less of the rights of slaves than in the cities. 
 These rights, according to Spanish law (violated 
 by custom), are many, and, in some respects, 
 humane. Still less would they be liable in the 
 country to learn that they were in truth free men. 
 
 After recovering from the effects of the terri 
 ble voyage, they were fresh and unimpaired in 
 strength. The exposures of field labor on the 
 plantations, and of sugar-making in the mills, 
 abridge negro life very much in the Spanish colo 
 nies. But both coffee and sugar planters have 
 concluded that it is cheaper to work gangs to 
 death, and then replace them by new purchases, 
 than to take care of their health as they do of 
 that of their cattle. 
 
 36
 
 THE SALE. 
 
 37 
 
 The Ayetans knew not on this day what was to 
 be their fate. No freemasonry had enabled them 
 to learn it from the slaves of the household, whose 
 grave looks when they parted from the new-com 
 ers were only explicable on the common ground 
 of social sympathy. Juacomo had evidently not 
 told them anything. The experiment would have 
 been too dangerous for himself, and of no use to 
 them. The comfortable quarters, the medical 
 treatment, the good food, the kindness of the 
 children for Tulita, as well as Carlito, had often 
 visited them, laden with sugar-plums and fruit 
 had restored them not only to health, but to some 
 measure of good spirits. Don Miguel was still an 
 object of terror, for, though he had apparently 
 released them from the barbarous treatment they 
 were subjected to on the African coast, they 
 knew him to be the presiding spirit of the vessel 
 of torture that had borne them across the ocean. 
 Before the family had risen, the whole party, to 
 the number of forty, was marched under escort to 
 a place on the edge of the city, where they were 
 exposed for inspection during the day, to be sold 
 at even-tide, at a public auction. Here sat, or 
 stood, or walked about, men, women, and children 
 of all ages infants at mothers breasts, stalwart 
 youths, athletic maidens, old men, boys, middle- 
 aged men. Some were barely covered with a 
 scant garment ; others were neatly attired ; some 
 were ornamented with trinkets ; but all looked sad
 
 28 THE SALE. 
 
 and apprehensive. Tearful mothers clasped their 
 little ones to their bosoms as if for the last time ; 
 husbands and wives exchanged words which might 
 be their last ; youthful sons and daughters clung 
 lovingly to the sides of their mothers, from whom 
 they for the first time feared separation. The 
 more attractive were the daughters, the more in 
 tense were the fears of the mothers, who scanned 
 with agonizing penetration the countenances of 
 those who came to buy. 
 
 Dolores and Pedro had left aged parents in 
 their native valley, and knew nothing of their sub 
 sequent fate. They had left brothers and sisters 
 on the coast where they had landed, for when 
 detailed for the city there was no consultation 
 respecting kindred, but thus far they had each 
 other, and while together they were not utterly 
 desolate. 
 
 New parties continued to come in in the course 
 of the day, and these remained there without food 
 or means of rest till late in the afternoon. Many 
 of them were evidently bozals, but others might 
 be known by their dress and language to be either 
 Creoles or long residents. 
 
 Some of these latter were unruly servants, who 
 could no longer be trusted in the city, from the 
 greater facilities it afforded for disorder and even 
 for escape. Others were slaves, who, by their intel 
 ligence and thrift, had been hired out by their 
 masters, and, after having completed the tasks as-
 
 THE SALE. 
 
 39 
 
 signed them, had earned nearly money enough to 
 purchase their freedom, which can be done in 
 Cuba for five hundred dollars. To prevent this 
 consummation, they had been despoiled of their 
 hard earnings, and were now to be sold into the 
 country, separated from all they loved, to toil in 
 the fields and be again " broken in." No disgrace 
 is more keen to a well trained and accomplished 
 household slave than to be made a field hand. 
 This mode of treatment quells rebellious spirits if 
 any human measures can do it. 
 
 The hour at length came, and terror and heart 
 sick despair took possession of many a bosom that 
 had long been trembling with vague apprehension. 
 Dolores and Pedro saw mothers part with nursing 
 babes, who were given into the rough keeping of 
 banditti-looking men, to be conveyed they knew 
 not where ; daughters who were sold to the high 
 est bidder for their comeliness, and sons who were 
 to be sent to distant provinces for their manly 
 independence, which made them dangerous fellow- 
 citizens. Wives were separated from their hus 
 bands, the aged from all youthful supporters. 
 The bozals could understand the natural language 
 of grief, terror, and despair, and when Dolores and 
 Pedro were placed upon the stand and examined 
 like fattened beasts in a stall, the blackness of 
 darkness came upon them, too, illumined indeed 
 by one ray of hope, which a few moments time 
 served to quench in eternal night.
 
 4Q THE SALE. 
 
 " Dolores and Pedro ! husband and wife, " said 
 the slave-dealer, "to be sold together young 
 and strong healthy bozals just married 
 hear ! " 
 
 " Whom do you belong to ? " said a purchaser, 
 rudely seizing Dolores by the chin, and jerking her 
 bent head towards him. 
 
 Pedro made one step forward, his eyes flashing 
 fire and defiance, but a cutting lash across the 
 face sent him reeling and bloody to the back of 
 the platform, where he was seized and bound hand 
 and foot. A scream of agony from Dolores as he 
 disappeared from her sight was the parting sound 
 that rang in Pedro s ears long after he was con 
 veyed from her presence. Not even a momentary 
 sympathy was elicited from the crowd. Such 
 demonstrations of human feeling are too common 
 in such scenes to attract any notice, and the 
 by-standers only crowded nearer, to lose nothing 
 of the spectacle, thus blocking up the street. 
 
 A volante drew up suddenly, to avoid riding 
 over the people. Dolores caught sight of Carlito s 
 sweet countenance, and stretched out her arms to 
 him with a supplicating cry, which made the slave- 
 dealer turn to look in the direction of her eye. 
 He immediately recognized Don Miguel, to whom 
 he lifted his hat respectfully. 
 
 " Oh, papa ! there is Dolores all alone ! Where 
 can Pedro be ? Do you think he is sold without 
 her ? "
 
 THE SALE. 4! 
 
 " I am afraid so, my boy ; but we cannot help it 
 now." 
 
 "Oh, papa, perhaps you can, if you ask that 
 man. Do ask him, papa." 
 
 " He is doubtless taken away before this. It is 
 of no use." 
 
 " But, papa, I think it was Dolores that screamed 
 so just as we drove up perhaps he was only just 
 carried away." 
 
 " Hush, boy. Drive on. Rascal ! why did you 
 come round this way ? " 
 
 " Oh, papa, Juacomo came this way because the 
 troops blocked up the other street don t you 
 know ? He tried hard to go the other way." 
 
 " Yes, I remember, but let us get out of it as 
 quick as possible turn round, if there is no other 
 way mamma does not like to be sitting here." 
 
 Carlito turned to his mother, whose kind eyes 
 were blinded with tears of compassion. She 
 begged him to be still. 
 
 Carlito always obeyed his mother, and sat down. 
 The crowd gave way and they drove on ; when 
 Dolores, who had stood in an attitude of intense 
 hope and expectation, saw this last earthly resource 
 fail, she fell senseless to the ground, with another 
 wild scream. 
 
 Carlito stopped his ears, and hid his face in his 
 mother s lap. The volante turned a corner, and 
 whirled them into the Paseo. Tulita and Miss 
 Wentworth, who were immediately behind, had
 
 42 THE SALE. 
 
 with bitter tears witnessed the whole scene, but 
 Tulita had checked the impulsive movement of 
 Miss Wentworth, who started from her seat to add 
 her voice of supplication to Dolores and Carlito s. 
 Tulita knew too well that it would be of no 
 avail. 
 
 The Paseo, which was the object of the drive, is 
 a shaded avenue of several rows of trees, in which 
 the Havana ladies take the air and the fresh at 
 nightfall, beautifully dressed, and their male 
 friends and cavaliers walk by the volantes as they 
 slowly wend their way, enjoying their society. 
 Intercourse is so restricted by forms that there is 
 little free interchange between men and unmarried 
 women, who must meet the opposite sex under 
 the superintendence of their mothers or elderly 
 female friends, if they wish to preserve a fair rep 
 utation. These guarded interviews are eagerly 
 sought. 
 
 There were no handsomer quitrins on the 
 Paseo than those of Tulita and her mother. The 
 show of dress, which was of the richest quality, 
 the ladies unbonneted, which is the style in 
 Havana, and often covered with jewels, would 
 have been a fair one to Helen at any other time ; 
 but she only looked upon it then as we do upon 
 any scene that offers itself to the eye under over 
 mastering emotions mechanically; and it was 
 even a relief to her to be at last whirled home. 
 
 When they emerged from the gay scene, it was
 
 THE SALE. 
 
 43 
 
 illuminated by one of those gorgeous sunsets so 
 often seen in that latitude ; but, by the time they 
 reached home, the sudden twilight, which is an 
 equally striking feature, had succeeded, and all 
 was dark and gloomy as they ascended the long 
 flight of steps, silent and sad. 
 
 Don Miguel scarcely joined the evening circle. 
 Miss Wentworth s presence was oppressive to 
 him. As they sat upon the veranda in the cool 
 of the evening, Carlito climbed into his mother s 
 lap, and said : 
 
 " I am never going to sea with papa." 
 
 "Why not ?" said Don Miguel, who was pacing 
 the veranda, and heard this half whisper. 
 
 " I should not like to bring people away from 
 home to be sold." 
 
 " Not if they were all the happier for it ? " 
 
 " How can that be, papa ? " 
 
 " Because they are always fighting in their own 
 country. They are savages, and make prisoners 
 of each other, and are very cruel to each other. 
 There are no wars here, and Padre Jean has bap 
 tized them all with a Christian name, and now 
 they can be good Catholics, and be buried in holy 
 ground when they die." 
 
 " But they can t understand what Padre Jean 
 reads to them out of his book." 
 
 "They will learn by and by." 
 
 " But nobody can tell them what it means, be 
 cause nobody can speak their language."
 
 44 
 
 THE SALE. 
 
 "Perhaps they will find some one, just as they 
 found Juacomo." 
 
 " Papa, do you know I found Juacomo crying, 
 when he was washing Rosillo ? I never saw a 
 man cry before. He was thinking of Dolores," 
 and Carlito burst into a wail of sorrow. 
 
 " Let us not talk any more about Dolores. 
 Think how happy Francisca is when she is saying 
 her prayers. By and by some one will teach 
 Dolores, as Tulita teaches Francisca." And Don 
 Miguel paced away, and turned the corner of the 
 house. 
 
 Carlito sobbed long and convulsively. It was 
 his bed-time, and, as soon as his mother had 
 soothed him, Francisca was summoned to put him 
 to bed. His mother soon followed them, and, 
 when she sat down on his little canopied tent, he 
 rested his head upon her knee and said : 
 
 " Mamma, I mean to go and live in Miss Went- 
 worth s country ; Tulita says there are no slaves 
 there. I won t live in a place where people are 
 sold ! " And he burst into another paroxysm. 
 
 At last nature triumphed, and the weary, heart- 
 stricken child fell asleep. 
 
 Tulita had stolen to the piano, to change the 
 current of talk, if not of thought, and played 
 some sweet strains, for she could not find her 
 voice to sing, till the carriages came to the 
 door for the evening drive to the Governor s 
 square.
 
 THE SALE. 
 
 45 
 
 The brilliant scene that formed the accompani 
 ment to the music "passed before Miss Went- 
 worth s eyes as a pageant. She could only look 
 upon its attractions as bought by blood and tears. 
 Again she listened to the despairing wail of Imo 
 gen, which only by the refinement of its agony 
 silenced for the moment the memory of Dolores 
 wild screams. 
 
 The barricaded street again obliged them to 
 make a circuit, but Juacomo made it in a different 
 direction, and gave Miss Wentvvorth an opportu 
 nity of seeing the noble cathedral by moonlight. 
 Its architectural beauty seemed to her the only 
 true worship that was likely to rise from such a 
 desecrated spot of earth. She did not know then 
 that the convent beneath it was filled with the 
 friars and their families, or that the very sem 
 blance of celibacy was dispensed with by the colo 
 nial priesthood. 
 
 As they approached the public stocks, in their 
 circuit, the appalling sound of the lash startled 
 her ear. She almost sprang from the carriage, 
 but Tulita held her firmly, and said, by way of 
 explanation : 
 
 " It is not the slave stocks ; it is some punish 
 ment given to those who go out armed after nine 
 o clock. It is a police regulation, which makes 
 everything safe." 
 
 As they passed the spot, they saw a carriage 
 drawn up before the stocks, into which the form
 
 46 THE SALE. 
 
 of a young man was lifted by the calesero and 
 footman. 
 
 "It is the volante of the Marquis of Carova! 
 What can it mean ? " whispered Tulita. " It 
 looked like Jose himself, but it cannot be. It 
 frightens me to think of it ! " 
 
 Jose was the son of the Marquis of Carova. 
 .Tulita had but half an hour before pointed him 
 out as the favorite cavalier of the young ladies, 
 not only of his own rank, but of a still lower one, 
 in which he visited unsanctioned by his father. 
 
 The young marquis expectant was a handsome 
 and talented Spaniard, possessed of every grace 
 and accomplishment that makes youth captivating; 
 but his father was poor, though titled, which made 
 it difficult for the son to ally himself to one of 
 equal rank. He had that evening been very atten 
 tive to a young citizen on the platform, whose 
 mother had long had her eye upon the young 
 marquis, wishing to purchase his title with the 
 wealth which had been hoarded up for that end so 
 desirable to a Habanero. The young lady s beauty 
 and accomplishments were such as to excite the 
 admiration of all who saw her : and as the young 
 cavalier walked by the side of her volante, he was 
 challenged by a sentinel, who inquired if he was 
 armed. With the presumption of his class, he an 
 swered defiantly, not stooping to a falsehood, and 
 the sentinel collared him, not suspecting his rank 
 in such company.
 
 THE SALE. 
 
 47 
 
 The young nobleman drew from his breast the 
 knife that had betrayed him, but was instantly dis 
 armed and hurried to the stocks, where the thirty 
 lashes were administered, decreed by recent law 
 as the punishment for carrying arms after nine 
 o clock. In vain he had protested his rank and 
 its immunities. Tacon s orders were not to be 
 questioned ; and, though the sentinel might have 
 allowed him to pass unchallenged if he had known 
 his rank, the possession of the knife was inexcu 
 sable. 
 
 The volante the young man was escorting had 
 driven on to his father s mansion, which was not 
 far distant, and arrived just as the marquis and his 
 lady were alighting at the door. The good woman 
 who carried the intelligence was delighted to have 
 the opportunity of speaking to so great a person 
 age, even under such circumstances ; and, as soon 
 as she informed him of the arrest of his son, he 
 remounted his carriage and returned to the spot, 
 where he arrived before the operation of flogging 
 was concluded, and just as the carriage of Don 
 Miguel passed by his servants were lifting his son 
 into the vehicle. 
 
 " Ah, mama ! was that Jose ? " whispered 
 Tulita to her mother, as they ascended the 
 steps. 
 
 " I think so, my child," said Dona Lucia. 
 
 " Horrible, mama, is it not ? " said Tulita. 
 " What a disgrace ! whippe d at the public stocks,
 
 48 THE SALE. 
 
 like any one else ! was such a thing ever heard of 
 before ? the son of a marquis ! " 
 
 " There must have been some mistake, my 
 child. The Governor would not have had one of his 
 rank publicly whipped, surely. Do not be alarmed ; 
 it will all be made right," and with these words 
 they entered the saloon, where Don Miguel was 
 already pacing the floor. 
 
 " Good enough for him ! I am glad his plumes 
 are plucked," said he. "His pride will be humbled 
 now, I hope." 
 
 "It must be some mistake, I think," said Dona 
 Lucia, timidly. " Surely, the Governor would not 
 sanction such an outrage upon the person of one 
 of the nobility." 
 
 " Nobility, indeed, nobility ! Tacon has too 
 much sense to let that make any difference ! 
 What is this youngster worth beyond Luis Gon- 
 zallo, or any other high-mettled youth who has 
 been punished for disobeying orders ? You may 
 be sure Tacon is only glad of the chance of show 
 ing these proud nobles that they cannot cross his 
 will. The Marquis of Carova has done it several 
 times of late, and this makes the account square. 
 For my part, I am glad it has fallen just where it 
 has. Did you see the fellow dancing attendance 
 upon that pretty girl to-night, Tulita ? She has 
 plenty of money to fill his empty pockets. You 
 see, you have lost your cavalier, hey ? but, never 
 mind ! there are plenty more."
 
 THE SALE. 
 
 49 
 
 This was more than Tulita could bear, and she 
 was hastening after Miss Wentworth, who had 
 said good-night, but her father called her back. 
 
 " What ! going to bed without kissing papa ? 
 that is something new." 
 
 Tulita returned and kissed her father, but not as 
 usual. He drew her upon his knee, and whispered 
 something in her ear which made her start back 
 with an exclamation, " Ay, papa ; how can you ? " 
 and, bursting into tears, she left the room. 
 
 " Now he is disgraced, perhaps his father will 
 let him marry the slaver s daughter, and you may 
 yet be a Marchioness," were the words Don Miguel 
 had whispered into the ear of his daughter. 
 
 When Tulita reached her own apartment, the 
 young slave who attended at her toilet stood 
 ready to bathe her feet in the usual manner, and 
 Tulita suddenly dried her eyes and suppressed all 
 evidence of unusual emotion ; for she knew that 
 on the morrow this untoward event would be 
 bruited from one end of the city to the other ; and 
 Tekla, the pretty lady s-maid, was the queen of 
 gossips, and knew enough of her young mistress 
 affairs to make it dangerous to admit her to any 
 confidence. Pleading headache, Tulita sank into her 
 boutacle, and threw her handkerchief over her head, 
 while Tekla bathed her feet ; but, declining to have 
 her hair combed as usual, she quietly undressed 
 and threw herself upon the bed. When Tekla had 
 retired, her mother stole into the room to give her
 
 ^ o THE SALE. 
 
 the accustomed caress and blessing, which were 
 more tender than usual, if possible, but accom 
 panied by few words, and it was not till she left 
 her that Tulita gave way to a passion of tears, 
 such as only the young and hopeful shed when 
 grieved and disappointed. Tulita s heart was yet 
 pure and uncorrupted ; but she was destined to 
 be made the tool of the ambitious and the selfish, 
 who were old and wise in the world s ways. Yet 
 such are the fetters of custom that she suffered 
 more when she thought of the disgrace and momen 
 tary suffering of a favorite than for the despair of 
 the bondswoman, for whose fate there was no 
 redemption.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 THE arrival, from the plantation of La Consola- 
 cion, of the housekeeper who was to be her escort 
 into the country, was announced to Miss Went- 
 worth one evening on her return from the music ; 
 and, after parting words with her hostess and 
 Tulita, she hastened to her room to make arrange; 
 ments for starting at daybreak, in order to avoid 
 the noonday heats. Tulita had formed many 
 plans of entertainment for Miss Wentworth, and 
 was much disappointed when she had heard of the 
 arrival of Mrs. Warwick. The housekeeper of 
 the Marchioness of Rodriguez was an American, 
 whom Miss Wentworth had sent to Cuba eighteen 
 years before as nur,se to her friend s first-born. 
 The Marchioness had lived too long in America to 
 be willing to give her child into the care of a negro 
 slave. 
 
 Mrs. Warwick had retired much fatigued from 
 her ride, and would have been very glad to have 
 lain over for a day s rest, but no such intimation 
 was made, and Miss Wentworth was only too glad 
 to escape the necessity of exchanging any more 
 
 5 1
 
 t|2 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 courtesies with Don Miguel, who was more and 
 more repugnant to her feelings. When her prepa 
 rations for the morning were made, and she had 
 dismissed the young waiting maid who had been 
 assigned her in Dona Lucia s- hospitable arrange 
 ments, she threw herself on her bed, but it was 
 not to sleep. So far from that, her whole past life 
 seemed to come up for review, and what aston 
 ished her more than all things else in this review 
 was the fact that, with what she did know formerly 
 upon this subject, she had not sought to know 
 more. The intensity of Channing s emotions 
 upon it was now explained to her. In pursuit of 
 health he had sought the climates of slave-lands, 
 and had seen slavery for himself as she now saw 
 it. She saw now how the general atmosphere of 
 opinion influences the mind, if experience has not 
 given it the means of throwing it off and judging 
 subjects by principles. She remembered her 
 mother s enthusiastic ejaculations when speaking 
 of Wilberforce, and referring to the sufferings of 
 the middle passage. The reference was some 
 what vague, for she was a child then, to whom her 
 mother would not recount the details of horrors. 
 Her mother had long since passed away, but her 
 daughter remembered the stories of sacrifices and 
 sufferings her family had experienced in leaving 
 their English home for the love of freedom 
 freedom, whose significance she now for the first 
 time realized. She had never known anything else
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 53 
 
 but freedom, and had compared it with nothing 
 else. It covered far more than worshipping God 
 according to the dictates of conscience, which was 
 the Pilgrims shibboleth. Pollen had sympathized 
 with down-trodden nationalities, and had defended 
 them before European courts at the risk of his 
 life, and when he came to America it was coming, 
 as it were, to ideal liberty. She was familiar with 
 the story of his life, but saw now how little she 
 had appreciated it, enthusiastic as was her feeling 
 at the time. She remembered, too, his pain when 
 the knowledge of slavery first dimmed the fair 
 picture he had drawn of America. She with 
 others had criticised what were then called Garri 
 son s extreme views as they appeared to her 
 through the medium of other minds. She had 
 wondered at the opposition of decided anti-slavery 
 men to the scheme of colonization ; but she under 
 stood it now. She now saw why the slave-holders 
 favored it not because of their humanity to the 
 race, but because it would be so convenient to have 
 all the freemen of that race removed from the 
 vicinity of slavery, whose peaceful existence their 
 freedom threatened. She had heard Follen state 
 this strongly, but then thought he went too far in 
 judging ill of his fellow-men, kind and just as he 
 was on all other subjects. Such, again, was the 
 influence of prevailing sentiments. The great 
 upheaval had not yet come ; when it did come, it 
 was demonstrated that these lax judgments were
 
 54 
 
 LA COXSOLACIOX. 
 
 founded on self-interest, for the northern portion 
 of her country proved to have been deeply in 
 volved in the pecuniary gains of slavery, and there 
 fore blinded to its heinousness. She remembered 
 the intelligent colored boy in her grandfather s 
 village, where she went to school in her childhood 
 after her parents death. He was the best de- 
 claimer in the school, and a manly boy in every 
 sense of the word, who grew to be a respected 
 member of society, intrusted with town interests, 
 and his name another word for honesty and 
 fidelity. How long ago she had forgotten John 
 Gibson ! with whom she had studied and recited 
 and played as with any child of her own color. 
 She remembered, too, the bright girls in her own 
 Sunday-school class in the African church at a 
 later period, one of whom became a distinguished 
 proficient in American history, and wrote sensible 
 articles in the anti-slavery papers. More strongly 
 than ever she felt it her duty to stay and learn 
 all she could, that she might help to clear up 
 doubting minds. She hoped she had seen the 
 worst it must be better, she was sure, in the 
 rural districts. 
 
 What were likely to be her farther experiences 
 in this fearful land? This subject had never been 
 a theme of the correspondence she had kept alive 
 with her Cuban friend for the last twenty years. 
 She knew she had married a slave-holder, but she 
 knew him to be a devoted husband and father.
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 55 
 
 She even knew that he loved his horses with a 
 special affection. Could she doubt that he had 
 feeling for his brother-man ? She did not yet 
 fully realize that his brother-man had passions 
 and will of his own, that made him hard to govern 
 that, in order to keep him in subjection, he 
 must be treated despotically, and that irrespon 
 sible power was liable to ruin the best organized 
 natures and silence all the best instincts of the 
 heart. She had often heard that the wildest and 
 most excited horse could be instantly calmed by 
 the touch and voice of the Marquis of Rodriguez, 
 and she found herself imagining this benign influ 
 ence exerted over human beings, till the tumult of 
 her soul was calmed, and she fell asleep, to be 
 roused as it seemed to her, immediately by 
 the summons to start upon her journey. 
 
 It had been arranged that, if the good Mrs. War 
 wick concurred, Carlito should "accompany them 
 for a short visit ; for the accident that had opened 
 up to the child the horrors of slavery had so 
 affected his happiness that he could not sleep, and 
 both father and mother wished for a change of 
 scene, hoping the impression would fade. Mrs. 
 Warwick consented to take him, although she knew 
 the Marchioness kept her children very much 
 apart from others less guarded in their lives than 
 their own, and he was so overjoyed at the prospect 
 of the visit that he rallied at once and left home 
 and his mother in high spirits. His father prom-
 
 5 6 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 ised to bring him home when he should take Tulita 
 to a neighboring plantation, which would now be 
 very soon, as the Christmas holidays were approach 
 ing, and at that season the plantations, otherwise 
 dull places to the young, were given up to gayety. 
 
 The relief afforded by nature, seen in such a dif 
 ferent aspect from anything that had before met 
 her eyes, was inexpressible to Miss Wentworth, 
 and the prattle of Carlito aided its effect. 
 
 After leaving the white limestone formation that 
 surrounds the city of Havana, and which is very 
 dazzling and trying to the eyes, they passed into 
 the deep, rich, red soil of the interior, which makes 
 such fine contrast with the luxuriant foliage. No 
 fences mar the beauty of the scenery, but the 
 plantations are bordered with broad lime hedges, 
 impervious, by reason of their spines, to man or 
 beast, and often covered in their turn by a little 
 blue convolvulus, whose delicate vine trails over 
 them and the adjacent earth. No houses are seen 
 from the road, but gates, sometimes of great archi 
 tectural beauty, and always more or less preten 
 tious, shut in long avenues of trees, at the end of 
 which, within ample squares, stand the low ram 
 bling houses, usually built with posts of the lignum- 
 vitae wood, which is impervious to the attacks of 
 insects, and filled in with cocoa or bamboo stakes, 
 plastered. These houses are floored, within, and on 
 the broad piazzas that surround them, with the 
 same concrete as the platform in the Governor s
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 57 
 
 square, made of lime and the red earth, laid down 
 wet, and then pounded by enormous piles into a 
 consistency which resembles marble and takes a 
 very fine polish. These piazzas are often made 
 with circular openings for plants, which form little 
 gardens, as it were, that the ladies of the house 
 can enjoy, without stepping upon the soil, which a 
 large portion of the year, that of the rainy season, 
 is of the consistency of hasty pudding, to borrow 
 a familiar image, the earth not having a pebble in 
 it of the size of a pin s head. 
 
 Heavy rain in the night very unusual at the 
 season, which was midwinter had made the roads 
 almost impassable. They were fearful to an inex 
 perienced traveller, and many times the trusty 
 negro who headed the escort had lifted Miss Went- 
 worth and her heavy companion, the housekeeper 
 of her friend, from the volante (Carlito took care 
 of himself), and placed them on a dry spot while 
 the vehicle was pulled from the deep mud-holes in 
 which it occasionally sank. Gullies, fifty feet in 
 depth, had to be descended on one side and 
 ascended on the other, and the driver, who sits on 
 the outside horse, and guides the one that is 
 between the bars at arm s length, did not seem to 
 have any fears of a successful transit unless water 
 stood at the bottom ; but the enormous wheels of 
 the volantes, wheels of the size and width of our 
 largest cart-wheels, must not sink too deep, or they 
 cannot be extricated, so the occupants of the
 
 58 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 vehicle must alight and be carried over on the 
 sides of the declivity, or, perchance, through the 
 mud and mire, in the arms of attendants. Women 
 never travel in the rainy season, and men usually 
 on horseback ; but in exceptional cases, like this, 
 unknown perils may be encountered, and it seemed 
 to Helen, sometimes, that all hopes of a safe arrival 
 were futile. The old lady who served her as 
 escort took the perils very quietly, which some 
 what reassured her, and when the sun became 
 pretty high, and threatened to be intolerable, they 
 entered an avenue of beautiful trees, at the end of 
 which stood a hospitable mansion, where they 
 were received as if expected. There are no inns 
 by the way in that country, but the hospitality of 
 the people is unmeasured, and always freely in 
 voked. 
 
 Miss Wentworth could speak the language, and 
 found that the tidings she brought from the city 
 amply compensated her hosts for the trouble of 
 entertaining her for a few hours, and, after doing 
 her best thus to requite their kindness, she gladly 
 accepted an invitation to rest her wearied limbs in 
 a luxurious hammock, where she was considerately 
 left to sleep until she was roused to continue her 
 journey. The worst roads were passed, and when 
 she entered the circle of San Marcos, not far from 
 the mountains of San Salvador, she found the 
 plantations of the Castilian nobility distinguished 
 for their cultivation and beauty. The one which
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 59 
 
 was the scene of the chief incidents of my story 
 was approached by a long avenue of palms, which 
 seemed to throw their slender columns so high 
 because they worshipped the sun which had drawn 
 them forth from the rich, red earth of that region. 
 Such, at least, was the thought suggested by their 
 columnar beauty to Miss Wentworth as she leaned 
 back in the luxurious volante which was winding 
 its way through their ranks, that seemed inter 
 minable. She had long ceased to utter the trans 
 ports of her enjoyment to her companion, who,- 
 less youthful, less enthusiastic than herself, had 
 fallen fast asleep besides which, she had no words 
 in which she could appropriately express her 
 admiration, for, as she rode on, the enchantment 
 increased. Carlito was beside himself with delight, 
 for this was his first visit to the interior of the 
 island. 
 
 The sun was just setting in tropical glory, and 
 as they passed, crossing avenues of these peculiar 
 trees, the vistas were illuminated by a roseate light, 
 which gave them the effect of colonnades of mar 
 ble pillars. The rich evergreen of the leaves of 
 the coffee-plant formed a fine relief to the snowy 
 whiteness of the palm shafts; as they approached 
 the house, shrubs of various flowers were inter 
 spersed with the trees, till in the more immediate 
 vicinity of it they gave place to others as new to 
 her ; to the mango, with its pear-like fruit, to the 
 orange-tree, the laurustinus, and the bamboo,
 
 60 I- A CONSOLACION. 
 
 which seems to sweep the sky with its plumes, and 
 forms an arch of shade impervious to the sun ; the 
 ground being carpeted like our pine forests with 
 the fallen leaves. On emerging from this cool 
 shade, the road opened into an area whose centre 
 was occupied by a spacious marble basin of water, 
 which was immediately surrounded by a hedge of 
 roses in perfection of bloom. The hedge was cut 
 so low as not to intercept the view of the water 
 from the carriage. Within the hedge, on the edge 
 of the basin, was a rich garden border of flowers, 
 among which stood many classic vases where vines 
 had strayed from their bed and found their way to 
 the waters of the pond, festooning the whole edge 
 with the most splendid colors of the floral kingdom. 
 Into this area opened avenues from every direc 
 tion. The calesero dashed into one of these, and, 
 suddenly quickening his pace, whirled the volante 
 to the piazza of the princely Rodriguez mansion. 
 
 Here Miss Wentworth was folded in the arms of 
 her old friend, whom she had not seen since they 
 resided on her grandfather s farm in Berkshire 
 County, Massachusetts, twenty years before. The 
 matronly beauty of the Marchioness was even more 
 attractive than that of her youth had been, and 
 when she greeted Helen with the affection of a 
 sister, amid the perfume of roses and the play of a 
 fountain, which stood like a familiar household 
 spirit in an opening on \.\\a.\. floor of luxury, as the 
 beautiful Castilian idiom designates the highly
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 61 
 
 polished composition piazzas that surround the 
 houses, it seemed to her that she was in the very 
 gates of Paradise. Voices are more mellow, ob 
 jects more soft, in that delicious climate, than else 
 where, and the air seemed full of music as well as 
 of perfume. 
 
 Miss Wentworth, or Helen, as we will now call 
 her, was in the prime of life. The heyday of 
 youth had not only passed, but she was perhaps 
 prematurely old in the experience of life, and had 
 never again expected to be taken captive by any 
 beauty whose inmost reason for being she had not 
 penetrated, but from the time she had been re 
 lieved of her fears of perils by the way, and had 
 breathed that divine air loaded with tropical sweets, 
 her blood had flowed with the vivacity of youth, 
 and, wearied as was her frame, she was completely 
 intoxicated with the scene and the joy of the meet 
 ing. When she afterwards remembered how pain 
 fully and suddenly she was disenchanted, it seemed 
 like a dream of surpassing beauty for whose ingre 
 dients she looked in vain. The next morning, the 
 glory had faded from the skies, the clustered roses, 
 wet with dew, appeared like angels with drooping 
 wings mourning over lost humanity ; the palm-trees, 
 which the evening before had seemed to stretch 
 toward the skies in order to worship the sun, now 
 appeared to struggle upward because they loathed 
 their parent earth. Their stiff leaves looked like 
 the fixed gaze of despair ; they were but the em-
 
 62 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 blem of desolation, standing apart, with no wish to 
 mingle with humankind, lest the wail of sorrow 
 should pass along their ranks. But I anticipate. 
 
 Guests are not allowed to sit late in the damp 
 evening air, which insidiously affects the stranger 
 in that climate, and after the sudden twilight of 
 tropical latitudes had succeeded the brilliant sun 
 set, and they had taken a few turns on the luxurious 
 gallery, Helen was taken in to look at the precious 
 jewels, her friend s children, who had been taken 
 to their little tent beds just before her arrival, tired 
 out with their day s play. Carlito was told that 
 they would have been kept up to welcome him if 
 he had been expected, but the party had not been 
 looked for so early. 
 
 The spacious saloon, which constitutes the chief 
 apartment of a country mansion in Cuba, was more 
 simply furnished than that of Don Miguel Arbrides 
 pretentious abode in the city, for in Cuban country- 
 life all ceremonies and etiquette are relaxed, and 
 comfort rather takes the place of show. Not that 
 it can be called comfort in the New England sense 
 of that term, but in a climate where one only needs 
 shelter from the sun and rain, and no protection 
 from chilling and changing winds, much fewer ap 
 pliances are requisite to supply the natural wants 
 of man. Deep leather boutacles, lounges covered 
 with the same material, before which stood light 
 sofa-tables, bamboo tabourets of various sizes, what 
 nots of the same material for books and articles of
 
 LA COiVSOLACION. 63 
 
 virtu; high massive sideboards, on which stood 
 silver candlesticks, protected by cut-glass guarda- 
 brisas, or wind-shades, of glass, stood upon the 
 highly polished floors, which were uncarpeted, for 
 insect life in the tropics renders the use of carpets 
 impracticable. The hall was unsealed, the parti 
 tion walls reaching only within a foot of the rafters, 
 which were handsomely carved, but left naked for 
 the free circulation of air. These spacious apart 
 ments have a desolate air to the eye of a stranger 
 accustomed to close and carpeted rooms, sheltered 
 by glass windows and curtains, but art had done 
 something for this one to relieve it of the effect of 
 its extent and barrenness. A wreath of fruits, 
 flowers, and birds was painted all around it on the 
 plastered walls, of a light sky-blue, so gorgeous 
 and luxurious in hue that it riveted the gaze even 
 by candle-light, and illuminated what would other 
 wise have been the darkness of the apartment. 
 Behind this apartment was another wide piazza, 
 curtained by heavy duck, with a border painted 
 somewhat in the same style ; this gallery was used 
 as the dining-hall, where the party partook of light 
 refreshment, and were then conducted to their own 
 apartments. There were large rooms on either 
 side the hall, one of which was the sleeping-room 
 of the Marchioness, around which were smaller 
 apartments for the children s little tented beds, 
 and beyond these Miss Wentworth was ushered 
 into her own spacious apartment, near which was
 
 64 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 a smaller one, in which Carlito was quite ready to 
 be put to bed by the kind Mrs. Warwick. 
 
 A nice little ebony lass stood ready to bathe Miss 
 Wentworth s feet and to help her undress, but 
 these were offices she had always performed for 
 herself, and, with a painful remembrance of her 
 late Havana life, she gently declined the aid of the 
 young girl, who stood in silent wonder to see the 
 lady wait upon herself. 
 
 " Solidad is much disappointed," said the Mar 
 chioness, who had followed Miss Wentworth to 
 her room. " She was much delighted at being ap 
 pointed lady s-maid to the long-expected friend ; 
 but you will soon learn the luxury of being waited 
 upon, in this climate." 
 
 " She shall be my little maid, if she wishes it," 
 said Miss Wentworth, "but not my little slave. 
 It does not seem to me, now, that I can ever let 
 any one wash my feet, in that capacity." 
 
 " I shall leave it to Solidad to persuade you," 
 said the Marchioness. " When you have met her 
 half a dozen times a day, at your chamber door, 
 with a tub of warm water upon her head, you will 
 capitulate, and make her happy by allowing her 
 to wash your feet ; and then she will hold out 
 her hand for a medio, for the slave does not like 
 to serve you for nothing, and if you wish for their 
 good services you must buy them." 
 
 " She shall have the medio this time, for 
 her good-will," said Miss Wentworth. " Is it
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 65 
 
 the fear of losing it that makes her look so 
 grave ? " 
 
 Solidad s face brightened again with a smile 
 when Miss Wentworth dropped the medio into her 
 hand, and then despatched her to her quarters. 
 
 As she glanced round the room, after her friend s 
 parting kiss, before she threw herself upon the 
 mosquito-netted cot, which was two-thirds ham 
 mock, she was aware that her walls were adorned 
 with what she supposed landscape papers, and her 
 attention was for a moment riveted upon a scene 
 that she remembered to have been sketched by 
 the Marchioness in her girlhood for the Mar 
 chioness was an artist, and this must have been 
 her work. But she was too weary to examine it, 
 and the only light in the room was afforded by 
 carved gourds containing brilliant curculios, a 
 beetle which is of the nature of a gigantic fire-fly ; 
 and it was but a few moments after Isabella left 
 her before she had sunk into a slumber such as 
 can be enjoyed only in that atmosphere, which 
 seems created for sleep, so soothingly does it 
 bathe the limbs and faculties in repose. 
 
 Her last thought, as she fell asleep, was the 
 comforting reflection that here she should be 
 spared the pain of witnessing any distressing fea 
 tures of the institution to which she had had so 
 appalling an introduction. But her little bark of 
 sleep seemed to her scarcely launched on the 
 sea of night before she was roused from her re-
 
 66 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 freshing slumber by the most piercing and heart 
 rending shrieks, from many voices, accompanied 
 by the terrific sound of the lash. 
 
 She sprang from her bed, and grasped the han 
 dle of a door that led upon the gallery. Voices 
 reassured her as she rushed from the room. How 
 can I describe the scene to those who are yet 
 novices in such horrors ? A man who looked 
 more like a demon than a human being was ap 
 plying his instrument of torture to the old negro 
 who had been Miss Wentworth s kind and atten 
 tive escort. His blood was pouring from the 
 wounds inflicted by the lash. The groans of the 
 victim, the shrieks of his wife and children, were 
 maddening to her ear. The friend of her youth, 
 whom she knew to be the milk of human kindness, 
 stood motionless, though pale and weeping. The 
 Marquis, who had appeared to her, the evening be 
 fore, to be the embodiment of all her fancy had 
 pictured as the noble knight and the " preux che 
 valier," paced the gallery with a hurried step, but 
 did not interfere. 
 
 Miss Wentworth looked at them a moment in 
 unspeakable amazement, arid then, as if impelled 
 by energies that had never before been roused, 
 darted from the piazza., and seized the arm of the 
 wretch who was inflicting the punishment. At 
 the same moment, a youth of twenty, whom she 
 had not seen the night before, but whom she 
 knew must be the oldest son of her friend, ran
 
 LA CONSOLACIOA T . 67 
 
 from the house, exclaiming, " My God ! I will 
 shoot the wretch " ; and held up a pistol as if ready 
 to discharge it. His father struck back his arm, 
 and sternly commanded him to go back into the 
 house, where he followed him, and probably for 
 bade his reappearance, for he was seen no more. 
 
 Miss Wentworth s impulsive movement had ar 
 rested, not only the attention, but the arm of the 
 overseer : but his wrath was not expended, and, 
 seeing that she was not seconded, he continued 
 his flagellations -with more passion than before, 
 if possible. 
 
 The deep slumbers of the children were not dis 
 turbed by the noise, thanks to the construction of 
 the mansion. The rooms in which the family 
 lived were approached by a flight of twenty or 
 thirty steps, but Manuel had been roused by his 
 brother, so the circumstances could not be wholly 
 concealed from him. 
 
 The Marquis called the overseer to his apart 
 ment, and the wife and children of the slave re 
 moved the poor old man from the blood-stained 
 ground. 
 
 The Marchioness called Miss Wentworth from 
 her room, and, throwing herself into a boutacle in 
 the saloon, burst into tears. After a few moments 
 of convulsive weeping, she commanded herself 
 sufficiently to say : 
 
 " Poor Carlo ! he was never whipped before, nor 
 did my children ever before witness or listen to
 
 68 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 such a scene ; Ludovico is old enough to know 
 all the penalties of slavery, but we have kept 
 everything we could, even from Manuel, that 
 would distress them. This wretch is a temporary 
 overseer, and has brought badly trained blood 
 hounds, who frighten the people, and then he 
 punishes them for defending themselves. I assure 
 you, my dear Helen, this is the first time I have 
 seen such a spectacle since my marriage." 
 
 "I am glad it is not common," said Helen, un 
 able to suppress her indignation ; "it is bad 
 enough that it is possible, Isabella." 
 
 " Ah, it is not so uncommon," said Isabella, 
 " but all the whipping is done at the other plan 
 tation, for my sake and for the sake of the chil 
 dren. When I returned from the States, my good 
 father indulged me by discontinuing the custom 
 of having the punishments inflicted before the 
 house, and my husband has done the same here." 
 
 " Then it is a favorite spectacle with slave-hold 
 ers ! " said Helen, more indignant than ever. 
 
 " Oh ! no, Helen, but it is done in the presence 
 of the master, that he may control its severity. The 
 slaves look to him for protection against the over 
 seer, whose power, while in office, is absolute, and 
 necessarily so, or he could preserve no discipline." 
 
 " Protection ! discipline ! " were all the words 
 Helen could utter. 
 
 " You will surely agree that there must be dis 
 cipline of such savage creatures."
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 69 
 
 " It is not the discipline for human beings, 
 and you are satisfied when you spare your 
 own feelings by not witnessing it ! " exclaimed 
 Helen. 
 
 Isabella burst into fresh tears. " Indeed, 
 Helen, you are cruel. We women cannot help 
 this thing. Would you deny us the small boon 
 of having it out of our sight ? " 
 
 " My dear Isabel, you must forgive me if I 
 am unjust ; but the horror of my mind is such that 
 I hardly know what I say. Tell me why you did 
 not interfere if you were displeased with this. 
 Has a master no power over his overseer ? Of 
 whom are you afraid ? " 
 
 " It is for the sake of the poor people that we 
 must be cautious, for the overseer must not be 
 exasperated. I assure you we shall not keep such 
 a man longer than we can help ; but it is difficult 
 to find a good one, for the occupation brutalizes 
 all ordinary natures. We have had an excellent 
 one, a Frenchman, but he was called to France 
 a week or two since, to inherit some property, and 
 could not wait for my husband to supply his place, 
 as he would have wished to do. Poor Carlo is my 
 husband s foster-brother, and devoted to him. 
 He was never punished before. All his family 
 are my house-servants. Carlo was fleeing to his 
 master for protection when this wretch caught 
 him. He called the negro driver who is under 
 him to whip Carlo, but Carlo is Jacobo s god-
 
 7o LA COXSOLACION: 
 
 father, and he refused to do it ; so he did it him 
 self, all the more angrily." 
 
 " What had Carlo done ? " asked Helen. 
 
 "Simply threatened the clog that bit him, they 
 say ; but Don Ermite has been much irritated 
 about his dogs, which have given us a great deal of 
 trouble the last two weeks. I have been afraid 
 to let my children step off the piazza, though 
 well trained dogs never snap at a white skin." 
 
 "Everything you say in extenuation only in 
 creases my horror. The faultless, faithful ser 
 vants are punished as if they were the worst ; the 
 discipline, as you call it, would be a cruel one for 
 beasts are no sentiments ever addressed in 
 these people but fear ? " 
 
 " Slight punishments do not subdue them ; they 
 only exasperate them. It is necessary to break 
 their wills, and some of these people have very 
 stubborn wills, and will even fight till they are 
 subdued." 
 
 " I see more and more horrors " 
 
 "All would be anarchy and confusion on the 
 plantations if they were not subdued ; but on 
 well managed plantations, as this has been, defi 
 nite rules are established, and they can escape 
 punishment if they obey them." 
 
 " If the overseer happens to be a decent man, 
 you mean." 
 
 " Yes, there is that chance, and it is a fearful 
 one. But they must feel there is an inexorable
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 71 
 
 power over them, or they would kill us all. The 
 most faithful are not to be trusted in extremity. 
 How can we expect them to be faithful if they see 
 a chance of liberty for themselves ? They might 
 not take into account the retribution that would 
 come upon them. Oh, my dear Helen, I felt just 
 as you do when I first came home, but I have, 
 resigned myself to necessity. What else can 
 women do ? All I can do is to be as good a mis 
 tress as I know how, make no unreasonable requi 
 sitions, and bear all the evils that I see. My 
 house-servants are never punished when we have 
 a good overseer. Carlo is a house-servant, and 
 all his family are in the house. They do horrible 
 things sometimes, but we have to bear them ; and 
 I never let them have much to do with the chil 
 dren. They are beside themselves to-night. I 
 am afraid that wicked overseer will punish them 
 all for interfering with him. They undoubtedly 
 thought my husband would interfere." 
 
 "Can it not be prevented ?" exclaimed Helen, 
 shuddering at the thought. 
 
 "I do not know what my husband can do with 
 that creature," said Isabella, "but, at any rate, I 
 am afraid our good Jacobo must suffer." 
 
 " Who is he ? " 
 
 "lie is the negro driver who refused to whip 
 Carlo to-night. He is a good fellow, and must 
 have known the danger to himself, though per 
 haps he thought his master would interfere for
 
 72 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 Carlo. Carlo is his godfather, and he is very 
 affectionate." 
 
 " He must be a hero, indeed, if he can risk such 
 a danger," answered Helen ; " but cannot he be 
 saved ? Let us go and see if we cannot intercede 
 for him. Has your husband no authority whatever 
 over his household ? Pardon me for asking 
 
 " It will do no good," said Isabella, sadly. 
 " What you have done to-night, my dear Helen, 
 will only make the matter worse for somebody. 
 Planters and overseers will not be interfered with. 
 Wait for me one moment ; do not go to bed till I 
 come back," and the Marchioness suddenly left 
 the room. 
 
 The request was unnecessary. Sleep was never 
 farther from Helen s eyelids. Every fibre within 
 her trembled with the excess of her indignation. 
 It was as if the lake of fire which some theolo 
 gians describe as the retribution for sin was sud 
 denly opened before her. The lurid light that 
 shines from evil deeds sent a searching glance 
 into realms of hitherto unimagined suffering. 
 The faithful, trusted, beloved servant was thus a 
 victim to the uncontrolled passions of man, with 
 out the power of an appeal to any earthly friend 
 or tribunal, and God meddles not between man 
 and man. The ocean that rolled between her and 
 her bleak northern home looked to her like an 
 interminable waste of waters, but one which must 
 soon separate her from such scenes.
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 73 
 
 But, as on a former occasion, the next thought 
 was, Is this right ? Should not these things be 
 known ? Perhaps I may be a humble instrument 
 for enlightening society upon this fearful topic. 
 
 How differently did the hooted and persecuted 
 friends of freedom appear to her now ! She 
 respected them before as well as she knew how, 
 but how little she had known ! They were, per 
 haps, not perfectly wise in all their methods, but 
 earnest, humane, self-sacrificing. She had dared 
 to criticise them. A new aspect of human duty 
 had presented itself to her. She determined to 
 hush every selfish feeling, and look with a keen 
 eye a calm one, if possible into this monster 
 iniquity. But she must possess herself, and still 
 the tumult within her. She could not believe 
 that her friends were willing to be cruel, and she 
 felt that she might trust herself to do them jus 
 tice. She believed their personal benevolence 
 would make them kind masters up to the limit 
 of their possibilities, but had any one a right to 
 remain in such circumstances ? And then again 
 came the thought that if there were no humane 
 masters, what a pandemonium earth would be ! 
 She could not yet realize how the prejudices of 
 education, the weight of custom, and the work 
 ings of self-interest, blinded them to the full sense 
 of the iniquity of such a position. She hoped 
 with trembling that she might help them to see 
 their farther duty.
 
 74 
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 When Isabella returned, she saw by her coun 
 tenance that her mission, if it was one, had been 
 unavailing. The exasperated overseer threatened 
 to leave the plantation the next morning if inter 
 fered with any farther. Carlo had been bitten by 
 one of his untrained dogs as he was crossing the 
 lawn on his way to his cabin, and had uttered a 
 threat of revenge against it, which the overseer 
 overheard. He immediately ordered the driver, 
 whose office it was to execute his behests, to give 
 Carlo thirty lashes. But Carlo was the master s 
 personal servant and his foster-brother, petted, 
 loved by all, respected by the other slaves, the 
 godfather of all the younger portion of them, 
 among whom was the negro driver himself, and 
 he refused. The passionate overseer seized the 
 lash, and, swearing vengeance against Jacobo for 
 disobedience, inflicted the punishment himself. 
 Nothing would now satisfy him but to wreak his 
 anger upon Jacobo. The wretched victims of 
 slavery are not even allowed the sad privilege of 
 weeping for their suffering brethren, except in 
 secret. The shrieking wife and frightened chil 
 dren, who had felt hitherto that the old husband 
 and father was safe from punishment, now shared 
 his tortures by personal suffering as well as by 
 sympathy. Can an outsider believe that this had to 
 be submitted to ? Isabella had pleaded for the 
 negro children, and saved them, but the old wife was 
 punished with her husband. Isabella, however,
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 75 
 
 did not tell Helen of this, but had to confess that 
 the intercession she had made for Jacobo proved 
 ineffectual. The Marquis had given his wife a 
 solemn promise that not a day should pass without 
 his seeking a substitute for this tyrant. This, 
 however, was not to be intimated, for if it were not 
 done cautiously there was little doubt that his life 
 would be the sacrifice, and, in the slave-holder s 
 code of honor (I might perhaps say his code of 
 self-interest), his overseer s life must be protected, 
 how many lives of negroes soever might be sacri 
 ficed to it. 
 
 " And what," said Helen, " will be the effect 
 upon the family of household slaves ? Will it not 
 destroy the very germs of that faithful devotedness 
 which you say has actuated them, to find that you 
 are powerless to protect them ? " 
 
 "I fear so, indeed," said the Marchioness, "but 
 they have not an unkindness to remember from me. 
 Yet I may not be allowed to enlighten them upon 
 the reasons why we could not interfere to pre 
 vent this injustice. They must not be let into 
 our counsels, for they could not keep the secret. 
 Half these slaves are raw Africans, hardly yet 
 broken into their traces : and we stand on a vol 
 cano if they are not thoroughly intimidated ; for 
 many belong to tribes that it is very difficult to 
 reduce to slavery. Carlo is a Congo, one of the 
 easiest tribes to govern." 
 
 " I cannot believe this is the only way of mak 
 ing human beings docile," said Helen.
 
 7 6 
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 " They can hardly be called human beings," said 
 Isabella. 
 
 " And why should they be?" said Helen, indig 
 nantly. " Have they not been robbed of them 
 selves, and treated like demons ? " 
 
 " True ; we should expect nothing of them, and 
 we do expect nothing. They cannot be trusted. 
 We are few against many, and must convince them 
 of our superior power." 
 
 " And yet you are willing to live on under such 
 a system and bequeath it to your children," replied 
 Helen, with rising excitement, for she again began 
 to take command of herself. 
 
 "Oh, be just, Helen! Am I not powerless? 
 But I am wholly unnerved as well as you. Let us 
 talk no more of it to-night. I have nothing to say 
 in defence of this wrong only of myself. I will 
 not leave you alone, but lie down by your side. 
 Let us try to sleep and be strengthened for the 
 morrow. I have given orders not to be dis 
 turbed." 
 
 Helen acceded, and said no more ; and Isabella 
 soon fell asleep, but not so Helen. It seemed 
 to her that sleep would never more visit her tor 
 tured brain ; and, when she saw the soft light of 
 dawn through the crevices of her shutters (for the 
 Cuban country-houses rarely know the luxury of 
 glass windows), she quietly opened the door and 
 stepped out upon the cool piazza. All traces of the 
 fearful scene had been carefully removed. She
 
 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 77 
 
 descended the steps, but she could not walk on 
 that side of the house, and turned the corner. 
 Here, on the other side of the path, were the 
 raised platforms, of masonry, which served for 
 drying the coffee. Mounting these, Helen walked 
 to cool her burning head in the soft dews of the 
 morning, which weighed down every leaf. Be 
 yond these coffee-driers stood the cabins of the 
 slaves light structures of bamboo stakes, inwoven 
 with the long leaves of the cocoa-plant, now stiff 
 with age. As she descended from these driers, 
 and passed the nearest dwelling, stifled sobs struck 
 her ear, and, trembling with her suspicions, but 
 irresistibly impelled by sympathy, she pushed open 
 the door, which stood ajar. Stretched on the bare 
 earth, with but a small blanket under each, lay the 
 victims of the last night s brutality ; with the 
 exception of the poor old man, who had been taken 
 to the hospital, which is prepared for the reception 
 of such victims, who often do not emerge from it 
 for many weeks. A tall negress, with a counte 
 nance expressive of much dignity as well as of the 
 deepest sorrow, was tenderly bathing the wounds 
 of the sufferers. At first Helen s knees trembled 
 under her, and her senses reeled again with horror ; 
 but the next moment she was on her knees, join 
 ing in the humane service, and assisting the soli 
 tary attendant in her charitable work. The poor 
 wife of Carlo fixed her wondering eyes upon Miss 
 Wentworth s face, but their grateful expression
 
 78 LA CONSOLACION. 
 
 changed instantly to one of terror when Helen 
 inquired for Carlo. " In the hospital, and my 
 husband too," said the negress in attendance, who 
 was the wife of the negro driver, " but you must 
 not stay here, lady," she said to her, in the same 
 language as that in which Helen had addressed 
 her. Her fast-falling tears called forth those of 
 the poor woman, who threw herself upon the 
 ground, wailing piteously. Carlo s wife motioned 
 to Helen to go, and, startled by the expression of 
 her face, Helen instantly obeyed, and darted from 
 the cabin, regaining the driers as quickly as 
 possible; and, hoping no one had seen her, she 
 entered her room softly, and took her place by the 
 side of Isabella, who still slept.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE DOGS. 
 
 ISABELLA was still sleeping, but not quietly. 
 Helen lay down by her side, and resolved to keep 
 her own counsel, if possible. Exhausted by 
 weariness, strong emotion, and want of sleep, she 
 soon lost herself, and when she awoke the sun 
 was riding high in the heavens, and she was 
 alone. 
 
 As she stood at her dressing-table, Helen again 
 caught the outline of the Berkshire hills on the 
 wall. It riveted her gaze. Two years spent in 
 France with her father, before returning to the 
 island, had given the Marchioness the oppor 
 tunity of becoming conversant with other works 
 of art than her own, and her native genius had 
 developed wonderfully, so that Helen, who had 
 given her her first childish lessons in painting, felt 
 herself wholly distanced in skill ; and she was now 
 breathless with admiration. The beloved hills ! 
 the land of liberty! .She could have knelt to 
 them. 
 
 A plate of fresh oranges, nicely peeled, stood 
 on the table at her side, and, refreshed by their 
 
 79
 
 80 THE DOGS. 
 
 cooling juices, she dressed and went out to seek 
 her friends. 
 
 What a contrast was this day to the scene of 
 the preceding evening! Isabella and her husband 
 were pacing the piazza, and the former greeted 
 her with the affection of a sister, but she fancied 
 she perceived some constraint in the salutation of 
 the Marquis, who had received her so cordially the 
 night before. One fine boy of six was standing by 
 the door, with eyes swollen with weeping ; two beau 
 tiful little girls were playing with a little dog, and 
 they looked at Helen with wondering eyes, but 
 when their mother told them this was Aunt Helen, 
 whom she had been so long expecting, they began 
 to smile upon her, and when Helen told them she 
 had seen them before, a sweet little four-year-old 
 thing held out her arms to be taken up, and asked 
 her if she would talk English with her, Mrs. 
 Warwick and Ludovico had taught her to say 
 some things in English. Helen made many 
 promises, and was soon intimate with these little 
 ones, who were not strangers to her, and many 
 of whose childish sayings had been the theme of 
 their mother s letters. 
 
 The children of the Marchioness of Rodriguez 
 had not been trained, as most of the children of 
 slave-countries are, by negro nurses, but, with good 
 Mrs. Warwick s help, their mother had trained 
 them herself, and presided even over their baths 
 and their meals, for Isabella had brought with
 
 THE DOGS. 8 1 
 
 her, from her old New England life, impressions 
 and principles regarding the education of children 
 that her Cuban life had never corrupted. Helen s 
 good aunt had always presided over her morning 
 toilet and her retiring hour for the night, not 
 trusting hirelings in those trying scenes and 
 precious hours of children s days. 
 
 It is usual for each child in a well-to-do family 
 in Cuba to have its special nurse, and much of 
 its character is determined by its "mumma," as 
 the negro nurse is called ; but no such function 
 existed here. Mrs. Warwick was the other mother, 
 and she was a stanch New England woman, of 
 the best type. But Manuel had always had his 
 morning ride on old Carlo s head, when the latter 
 went to feed his pig, that cherished object of a 
 negro s affections, because the only thing, except 
 his chickens, that he really owns. He did not 
 own his wife or his children ; but he did own his 
 pig and his chickens, and had the disposal of the 
 money for which he could sell them. That 
 money went into the little fund that a thoughtful 
 slave always hoards, secretly, towards the making 
 up of the five hundred dollars that can legally buy 
 his freedom. The fact that everything that can 
 be done to prevent its accumulation is done, does 
 not discourage the slave from the attempt to 
 gather it ; nor the fact of the few cases in which 
 they are successful. But this is a digression. It 
 was not the selfish loss of a pleasure, merely, that
 
 82 THE DOGS. 
 
 wrung Manuel s heart this morning, but the cruel 
 wrong that had been clone to Carlo, whom he 
 really loved, and about which he knew enough to 
 demand the relation of the whole, which his 
 mother had reluctantly given. The little girls 
 had been more easily put aside, and he was 
 charged not to tell them what he knew. It was 
 Manuel s first unselfish sorrow, and the little girls 
 had in vain endeavored to comfort him, or to 
 ascertain the cause of his trouble other than the 
 disappointment about his morning pastime. He 
 had consoled himself as far as possible by feeding 
 Carlo s pig with corn and oranges, reserving a 
 huge orange, which he carried under his arm, for 
 Carlo, and was waiting with what patience he 
 could till his mother was ready to prepare Carlo s 
 portion, in which she had promised that it should 
 be an ingredient. She always attended person 
 ally to the rations for the hospital, and, in ordi 
 nary cases of illness, Manuel always accompanied 
 her in her visitations to the hospital; but she 
 could not take him in cases of punishment, with 
 out revealing too much of the fearful arcana of 
 slavery. 
 
 " Do you know what is the matter with Man 
 uel ? " whispered Pepita to Helen ; " he will not 
 tell me." "I think he is cross," said Louise. 
 "Oh, no! he says he is unhappy, and that people 
 don t like to be talked to when they are unhappy," 
 and Pepita s little eyes filled with tears. Helen
 
 THE DOGS. 83 
 
 could not restrain her own, as she pressed the 
 little darling in her arms, whose musical voice in 
 broken English sympathized so deeply with the 
 unknown sorrow. 
 
 " I wish everybody would not cry ! " burst from 
 Pepita, as she broke into a passionate fit of 
 weeping. 
 
 " Mama cried, too, when she dressed me," said 
 Louise, who, though of more sturdy mood, was 
 not proof against the general depression. Man 
 uel s tears began to flow afresh. 
 
 " Let us all try to make each other happy," said 
 Helen, making a strong effort over herself ; " if 
 every one would do that, no one in the whole 
 world would be unhappy. What is your little 
 dog s name ? He does not like to see people look 
 sad. Dogs always know when people are un 
 happy. Let us have a little frolic with him." 
 Helen caught an orange from the buffet, and 
 rolled it across the floor. The little girls, whose 
 sympathy with the afflicted was indefinite though 
 real, were soon absorbed in the frolic. But Man 
 uel walked away ; he could not bear it. Relieved 
 from his depressing presence, the children soon 
 recovered their spirits, and played horses on their 
 long Guinea-grasses without him. 
 
 The Marquis had retired to his own apartment, 
 and Isabella silently seated herself at her work- 
 table, grateful to Helen for the relief her care of 
 the children afforded her.
 
 84 THE DOGS. 
 
 At this moment an old negress, with preternat- 
 urally active motions, bustled into the hall, and 
 began to dust the furniture, lifting up the heavy 
 chairs, and setting them down again with a great 
 noise. 
 
 " Ah, Camilla," said the Marchioness, a little 
 impatiently, " I thought you had done dusting." 
 
 "Ave, Maria! oh, no, la Marquisa, not yet ; poor 
 Jacobo ! poor Carlo ! poor Maria! Ave, Maria! 
 good morning, miss " (in English), courtesying to 
 Helen "good lady" (in Spanish), "ah, the 
 dogs ! the dogs, lady ! French ladies walk ! 
 poor Carlo! poor Jacobo!" and Camilla con 
 tinued to go round and round the room, venting her 
 excitement upon the chairs and tables and every 
 article upon the large buffet, which she dusted 
 over and over again. 
 
 "Take care, Camilla! you will break the guard- 
 abrisas," said the Marchioness, " and those deli 
 cate little .vases ! do not touch them again ! you 
 have moved them all once do you hear me, 
 Camilla? let the things alone!" for as her lady 
 remonstrated the clatter increased rather than 
 diminished. "Ah, yes! pupil of my eyes! much 
 dust, much dust ! poor Carlo ! poor Jacobo ! 
 the Marquis, the Marquis walks the Marquis 
 walks too fast the Marquis walks in the night 
 the Marquis does not sleep the Marquis should 
 sleep my lady slept a little the young lady 
 had better not walk the dos;s the dogs the
 
 THE DOGS. 85 
 
 young lady must not walk alone good lady 
 good lady the dogs, my lady, the dogs !" 
 
 "What does she mean, Helen?" said Isabella, 
 in English. " I went out upon the driers last 
 night, while you were sleeping, to cool my head," 
 said Helen, aware that she had been seen. 
 
 As she spoke, Camilla stopped short, and listened 
 intently, pretending to be attending to something 
 out-of-doors. 
 
 "You must not do that, dear! those dogs 
 might attack you ! " 
 
 Camilla shook her head. " The dogs the dogs, 
 my lady the French ladies walk, oh, yes ! " 
 
 " Which way did you walk ? " said Isabella. 
 Camilla crossed her bony fingers over her breast, 
 and listened intently again. 
 
 " You have dusted enough, Camilla," said her 
 mistress ; " you can go now." 
 
 Camilla reluctantly walked away, but soon 
 returned to pick up her duster, which she had, 
 probably, dropped designedly. Helen waited 
 before replying, and, after adjusting one or two 
 chairs again, the old crone went away, and, seizing 
 a bunch of brush, began sweeping the path before 
 the steps, evidently wishing to hear more. 
 
 " Camilla pretends not to understand English," 
 said Isabella, " but we are sure that she does. 
 Wait till she is fairly out of sight before you answer 
 my question." 
 
 This was what Helen was doing, and, after
 
 86 THE DOGS. 
 
 raising the dust before the house pretty effectu 
 ally with her broom, Camilla finally disappeared. 
 
 " I walked a little way down one of the avenues," 
 said Helen, as calmly as she could. 
 
 " Did you see any one ? " 
 
 "I did not see Camilla," said Helen. "She 
 seems a privileged character." 
 
 " She is, indeed ; but tell me whom you saw, 
 dear ; and, for the love of Heaven, do not go out 
 alone ! That wretch would kill you if he could, and 
 you must not interfere, dear Helen, promise me 
 that you will not ! " 
 
 "Oh, I will not, indeed," said Helen; "I see 
 that we are all slaves. I looked into a cabin from 
 which I heard sobbing, but they warned me away 
 immediately, and I hastened home." 
 
 "I told the man in charge last night to leave the 
 door of Carlo s cabin open for air, that his poor 
 wife might have the refreshment of it, and Jacobo s 
 wife wanted to stay with her. Usually they are 
 all locked in. I hope no harm will come of your 
 looking in there. This creature must have heard 
 you go out, or have been prowling round there 
 herself. I do not know how she could get out, or 
 how she dared to, but they have their own ways of 
 circumventing us." 
 
 " My dear Isabella, do forgive me ; I will make 
 no more ventures. I see that I did wrong, but it 
 is so hard to learn about such different customs 
 that perhaps you can forgive me. Heaven grant
 
 THE DOGS. 87 
 
 that I have brought no one else into trouble. I do 
 not know but it would kill me if I thought I had." 
 
 " I think Camilla could have had only a good 
 will in warning you," said Isabella, "and she 
 knows enough to know that it would be dangerous 
 to herself if it were known that she was out, so I 
 trust there will be no consequences to your impru 
 dence ; but you must be prudent, dear." 
 
 " I will be, but don t you think the negress who 
 warned me away might have told Camilla with the 
 purpose of giving me a warning through her ? It 
 was Carlo s wife, and she could have had no desire 
 to injure me." 
 
 " You are right, and I think that must explain it. 
 Camilla has seen them this morning, for I sent her 
 there." 
 
 This calmed Helen s fears, and she resumed her 
 play with the children, who had begun to listen, 
 and were troubled by the interruption. But it 
 was difficult to rally herself as the horrors and 
 dangers about her accumulated, and she soon told 
 her friend that she would try to go to sleep, for 
 she was not fit company for the children. 
 
 Just at this moment, Carlito appeared, led in 
 fresh and blooming by the good Mrs. Warwick, 
 who had watched for his awakening, and dressed 
 him with her own hand. 
 
 It was the first time any one had done this but 
 his own dear mama and his slave-nurse, from 
 whose affectionate but uncultivated ministrations
 
 88 THE DOGS. 
 
 he had, unhappily, not been saved. Carlito, who 
 was only six years old, was very precocious, and, in 
 spite of his inheritance, a lovely child. He was 
 his mother s boy, and thus far, at least, the hard 
 heart of his father had not shown itself in him. 
 Happily, the father was rarely at home long, and 
 Carlito s little life had been passed in kindly offices 
 to the poor victims of pillage and oppression, who 
 were well treated in his father s home, not from 
 motives of humanity, but purely from self-interest. 
 Carlito was not yet old enough to understand this, 
 but he had just taken one degree, and as soon as 
 he learned that there had been a punishment of a 
 slave on the plantation, he too looked grave and 
 preoccupied. Children invariably sympathize with 
 "the people," so far as not to betray them ; and it 
 is their first lesson in disingenuousness, but evi 
 dently sanctified to them by the motive that in 
 spires it. The innocent prattle of the little girls 
 charmed him into frequent smiles and sallies, and 
 it was not long before he too had a Guinea-grass 
 horse and trotted down the piazza with his steed. 
 The Rodriguez children were never left in their 
 babyhood without the superintendence of their 
 mother or their nurse. Manuel had but lately 
 emerged from the nursery to ride with his father 
 and Ludovico, who were equally careful to keep 
 him from contaminating exposure. It takes but a 
 word or two of an uncultivated nurse to put an 
 image into the mind of a child, as Helen was made
 
 THE DOGS. 89 
 
 aware that day, when Carlito asked her why that 
 lady up in the sky, that took care of God, did not 
 take care of Dolores and Pedro, whose fate still 
 weighed upon his spirits. 
 
 " When I asked mama, she cried, and when I 
 asked Tulita she said I must not talk so. I should 
 not think God needed to be taken care of, but I 
 think people do sometimes." 
 
 " My darling boy, who told you a lady in the sky 
 took care of God ? " 
 
 " Francisca told me." 
 
 "Who is Francisca ?" 
 
 " Francisca is my nurse." 
 
 " Is she a kind nurse ? " 
 
 " Yes, kindissimo," said Carlito, if we may trans 
 late literally his strong expression. 
 
 " My dear Carlito, Francisca may be very kind, 
 but she is very ignorant you must not believe all 
 she says." 
 
 " She says Padre Jean told her so." 
 
 " Did you quite believe it ? " 
 
 "Yes, I thought Padre Jean would know." 
 
 Helen could hardly rally her thoughts to answer 
 such searching questions, but she felt how impor 
 tant it was to Carlito, in the present state of his 
 feelings. 
 
 " Oh, if men only understood how to be kind to 
 other men, always, then they would understand 
 God better. God is not a man like us, dear ; he 
 does not need to be taken care of. Francisca is
 
 9 o 
 
 THE DOGS, 
 
 so ignorant she could not understand what Padre 
 Jean meant. The people who go to church here 
 call Jesus Christ God, and he was so good there is 
 no wonder that they should think he was the 
 same, but he was the son of God, as you are, and 
 the Madonna was his mother. He was good to 
 every one he would not have owned a slave, 
 because he would have thought every one must 
 own himself and could take care of himself as God 
 made him to do, if no one prevents him. Christ 
 taught men that they must love all men as if they 
 were their own brothers, and if they did there 
 would not be any slaves. We must all try to be 
 as much like the good Christ as we can. I should 
 not like to be a slave ; would you ?" 
 
 " No, indeed ; but Tulita says it does them good 
 to be brought here, and papa says so too." 
 
 " It might do them good, if people would treat 
 them kindly and teach them something." 
 
 " Won t you let me go home with you when you 
 go," said Carlito ; " Tulita says there are no slaves 
 in your country." 
 
 " There are none in the part of America where 
 I live, but in another part there are," Helen re 
 plied, sadly. 
 
 " I wish I was dead," said poor Carlito, who 
 saw no way out of his misery, and he began 
 to cry. 
 
 Helen drew him into her lap, and told him that 
 perhaps he could do some good to the poor slaves
 
 THE DOGS. QI 
 
 when he grew older. "Once," she added, "there 
 were slaves in New England, where I live, but the 
 people there gave them all their liberty, and then 
 they went to school and became as good as any 
 one else, and, even in that part of my country 
 where there are still .slaves, people sometimes set 
 all theirs free and send them away where they can 
 be happier. When I first came here and saw a 
 man punished, I thought I could not stay, but 
 must go right home again ; and then I thought to 
 myself, No, I will stay and learn all about slavery, 
 and perhaps when I go home I can make more 
 people give liberty to their slaves. Now, perhaps 
 you can do a great deal of good when you grow 
 up, and I would think of that rather than of the 
 sufferings you see. I think your mother will send 
 you out of this unhappy country when you are old 
 enough to take care of yourself that is what 
 Manuel s mother means to do." 
 
 " Oh, that would be good. I ll try to wait for 
 that." 
 
 "And let us go now," said Helen, "and find 
 Manuel, and try to make him feel happier, for he 
 has seen a kind servant punished when he did not 
 deserve it, and is very unhappy about it as un 
 happy as you are about Dolores and Pedro." 
 
 A fresh burst of sorrow was his answer, but he 
 was soon ready to go to find Manuel ; and, when 
 they went out upon the piazza., Manuel s pretty 
 pony stood by the steps, and Ludovico and an-
 
 9 2 
 
 THE DOGS. 
 
 other horse were also waiting to give Carlito his 
 first ride. 
 
 "You shall ride my pony," said Manuel, "for 
 he is very gentle, and if you should fall off he is 
 so low that it would not hurt you." 
 
 " I will walk you round at first," said Ludovico, 
 who saw that Carlito was a little timid. 
 
 Thus reassured, Carlito allowed himself to be 
 placed upon the pony, and a happy hour or two 
 passed with this experiment, so that he returned 
 in good spirits, and played cheerfully with the 
 little girls. In the afternoon they all went to 
 drive with the nurse, Manuel and Ludovico ac 
 companying them on horseback, and nothing was 
 said of the late sad event, for the Marchioness 
 had prohibited all farther mention of it before 
 the children, enjoining silence especially upon 
 Camilla, on pain of being expelled from the house. 
 Camilla knew very well that the housekeeping 
 could not go on without her, but by keeping to 
 the letter of the law she found many opportunities 
 to give expression to her excited feelings. We 
 will hope she did not enjoy the catastrophe too 
 much, but the jealousies between household slaves 
 are only held in check by the fear of severe pun 
 ishment. The rule of the plantation is that if 
 any strife occurs between them, both parties are 
 punished, without any questions being asked. 
 There is not even an attempt at judgment. 
 Earlier in life, Camilla had had her share of suf-
 
 THE DOGS. 
 
 93 
 
 faring from this cause, for her domineering spirit 
 needed to be checked in the bud. At present the 
 quarry at which she struck was one far above her, 
 where she knew she should not meet with the 
 retaliation she deserved.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 THE Marchioness of Rodriguez had spent most 
 of her childhood in the United States. A good 
 education for a young girl was unattainable in 
 Cuba at that time, especially upon the plantations, 
 which were not connected wi.ih the cities even by 
 highways passable at all seasons, and no judicious 
 parents would send their daughters to the board 
 ing-schools or convents of the city. The usual 
 custom was to hire men to instruct in families, 
 and these were in so subordinate and toadyish a 
 relation to the family that they could only be 
 called upper servants. They were expected to 
 perform many services besides teaching, and were 
 in no position to command respect from the 
 young. They were also, very frequently, sourcer 
 of absolute corruption. American governesses 
 were not then, as later, the fashion. 
 
 The mother of Isabella was not qualified to give 
 or even superintend such an education as her 
 father was desirous of affording her. He had 
 been educated partly in Spain, partly at a poly 
 technic school in France, where his native mathe 
 matical tendencies were stimulated. He had 
 
 94
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 95 
 
 tasted the pleasures of knowledge sufficiently to 
 crave it for his only child, and even had an ambi 
 tion that she should be one of the women whose 
 names were known in the intellectual world. He 
 had not experience enough to know that only 
 peculiar circumstances like those of some famous 
 French women, Madame cle Stae l and Madame 
 Roland for instance, were the educating forces 
 that brought women occasionally to the front, and 
 that the rule must be mediocrity while education 
 for women remained on so low a plane as the usual 
 one. Even Fenelon thought it best for women 
 not to know too much. 
 
 Modern science was unknown in Spain, but 
 Napoleon had opened the way to it in France, and 
 the Marquis of Ramonte was imaginative. He 
 was induced to send his daughter to Philadelphia 
 by the fame of a certain boarding-school where 
 other Spanish maidens had been placed, and had 
 returned home able to speak a little French, which 
 really stood for education in those days, not to say 
 in later ones. There his child learned English by 
 the natural process, enough French to prattle it a 
 little, embroidery, dancing, a little arithmetic, a 
 few geographical items, and a good deal of fash 
 ionable nonsense. 
 
 Helen Wentworth, left an orphan at fifteen, was 
 sent to the same school by a New York aunt into 
 whose care she fell, and whose highest idea of 
 education was fashionable manners and French.
 
 9 6 
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 Philadelphia was the only city at that time where 
 the two things were supposed to be combined in 
 the same institution, and Madame Lc Blanc s fame 
 was widespread, for she was a good woman, and 
 gained the affections of her pupils, the surest pass 
 port to their intellects. 
 
 Helen Wentworth was a Massachusetts girl, 
 and the child of an educator who had advanced 
 ideas upon that subject, so that her daughter was 
 put in possession of her faculties early in life, and 
 nurtured upon the trials, sacrifices, and conquests 
 of the early Pilgrim history, which has made New 
 England what it is. Helen s more puritanical 
 manners and higher culture had developed a supe 
 rior nature, which even a French boarding-school 
 could not fritter away. She soon became deeply 
 interested in the little Spanish stranger, whom 
 she begged for a room-mate, and over whom she 
 watched with sisterly care during her three years 
 residence there. In the summer vacations she 
 was even allowed to take her to the home of a 
 Massachusetts uncle who lived among the Berk 
 shire hills, where they spent happy holidays, run 
 ning freely over hill and dale, and drinking in the 
 spirit of freedom and independence which charac 
 terizes northern society wherever it is lucky 
 enough to escape the narrowing effects of a 
 bigoted creed, which it happily did in this case, 
 for Helen s family circle had emancipated itself 
 from that bondage.
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 97 
 
 When Helen finally left Madame Le Blanc s 
 school, she took the position of a teacher in a 
 New England establishment, and the Marquis of 
 Ramonte was but too glad to place his daughter 
 under her care. The bond of affection between 
 them was an indissoluble one, and when Isabella, 
 at the age of eighteen, returned to her father, her 
 mother having died while she was in the States, 
 Helen promised to visit her before many years 
 should elapse. Circumstances had prevented the 
 fulfilment of this promise till now, and the inter 
 vening years had been passed in severe and useful 
 duties, which had strengthened and deepened her 
 character. Afflictions graver than bereavements 
 of friends had purified and ennobled her affections, 
 but had somewhat impaired her health ; and she 
 resolved to recruit her forces by a visit to her 
 friend, with whom she had, meantime, kept up a 
 lively correspondence in both languages. 
 
 Isabella had become a wife and a mother, and 
 her outward and inward life were known to her 
 friend as far as the exchange of letters could make 
 either known, but Helen found herself in a new 
 world, whose very forms of thought varied from 
 those of her own corner of creation as much as the 
 features of the scenery around her. Vegetation 
 clothed the earth there as here, but here its rank 
 luxuriance, where untamed, typified the unbridled 
 sweep of human propensities, while the curbs and 
 restraints that a certain measure of civilization im-
 
 9 8 
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 posed upon it only concealed the fens and marshes 
 that were the product of a decay as pestiferous to 
 the physical as the corruptions of the heaven-born 
 passions are to the moral atmosphere. Life had 
 given Helen an early maturity, that made her in 
 stinctively weigh all shows in a just balance, and, 
 without destroying her faith in man s high destiny, 
 which was anchored upon a rock, she keenly sep 
 arated the true from the false in her estimate of 
 values. Her own intimate history was of a nature 
 not to be communicated to the nearest friend, for 
 her highest happiness was denied earthly form, 
 but the consecration of her affections was such as 
 to act reflectively for the happiness of others, and 
 she sometimes felt as if she were looking on life 
 as a disembodied spirit might look upon it, inter 
 ested in it, but no longer of it. 
 
 When Isabella first returned to Cuba, she was 
 plunged into scenes and modes of life which she 
 had wholly forgotten, and with which time only 
 made her familiar again. If it had not been for 
 her constant intercourse with Helen, her American 
 life might have become to her as a dream, but it 
 had been passed at a susceptible age ; the bent 
 had been given to her character, and its beneficent 
 influences had been perpetuated by the friendship 
 she had formed, and the fact that Helen had con 
 tinued to be the sole repositary of her new life. 
 
 Her father had felt the growing distaste to the 
 thought of slavery when he had visited her from
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 99 
 
 time to time, although it was before the days when 
 that subject was specifically agitated in the States, 
 and when she returned to him he carefully guarded 
 her from the worst aspects of it. When she mar 
 ried the Marquis of Rodriguez, he favored her in 
 the same manner. Both the father and the hus 
 band were kind masters, up to the average of a 
 slave-holder s possibility, and had seen enough of 
 European life to be willing to disguise the most 
 revolting aspects of slavery to Isabella. And 
 Isabella soon learned not to inquire too curiously. 
 
 It is astonishing to observe how people can shade 
 their own eyes from what is around them. But 
 Isabella s heart was a tender and true one. She 
 was a conscientious and considerate mistress, sacri 
 ficing much of her comfort and convenience 
 rather than recurring to her overseer for aid when 
 her people tried her patience and even endurance, 
 as they often did. This leniency subjected her to 
 many impositions, but she soon surrounded herself 
 with affectionate servants, made so by her kind 
 ness. She had grown up a Protestant, not of the 
 protesting kind, for she had been educated among 
 liberal-minded Americans, who valued the substance 
 of religion as exemplified in the life, rather than 
 its forms and creeds. 
 
 When children came to her, she taught them to 
 feel, because she felt it, that every child has a 
 heavenly endowment that can make him a Christ 
 child in his own sphere if he but obeys his con-
 
 IOO 
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 science, which is the voice of God within him. 
 This is all the religious instruction children need, 
 and is adapted to every emergency of their lives, 
 as this good mother found. 
 
 After Isabella became a mother, she gave up the 
 half-yearly city life which is customary with every 
 planter who can afford to spend the winter in the 
 city, and her husband yielded willingly to her de 
 sire for an American nursery-woman. Helen had 
 sent her an excellent one, not an uneducated ser 
 vant, but one who could intelligently assist her in 
 the early training of her children, as well as take 
 care of their infantile wants. Mrs. Warwick had 
 lived with her ever since the birth of Luclovico, 
 and the children s nursery was a spacious apart 
 ment which was the children s home when they 
 were not with their mother. Mrs. Warwick s 
 superintendence necessarily made English the lan 
 guage of the nursery, and this in itself was a 
 protection. The Marchioness had not followed the 
 usual Spanish custom of assigning to each child a 
 little slave to be its servant, so fruitful a source of 
 corruption in a slave community. Her children 
 were never left to their companionship nor allowed 
 to domineer over them. 
 
 The nursery over which Mrs. Warwick presided 
 occupied the largest room in the mansion, next to 
 the great hall. It was a little heaven to Helen, 
 and she passed much time in it. The Marchion 
 ess devoted some hours of the moraine: to the in-
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. IO I 
 
 struction of the children: and Helen now partici 
 pated in this pleasant duty. She also taught them 
 innumerable pretty works, and many songs, for she 
 had a delightful voice, and the musical little Span 
 iards were never tired of hearing her sing, and of 
 learning them from her lips. The children passed 
 most of their indoor life in this charming room, 
 which contained not only everything that could 
 amuse and interest children, but lovely works of 
 art ; and Isabella liked to have them live as much 
 out of the influence of guests as possible, so cor 
 rupting is the ordinary conversation of idle- 
 minded people. Especially at this holiday season, 
 and, indeed, in all the dry winter season, the 
 country is full of city people, and Spanish hospi 
 tality must keep open house. 
 
 Mrs. Warwick was not made a drudge. Isabella 
 insisted upon her retiring to her own apartment 
 when she herself " kept school," as she called it, 
 which she did early in the day. Mrs. Warwick 
 often walked out by herself at these hours, and the 
 Marchioness knew very well that she visited the 
 chicken-house, and the hospital, and any cabins 
 that she pleased. She never asked any questions, 
 but listened when Mrs. Warwick had anything to 
 communicate, and by this means had many more 
 opportunities to relieve suffering. If Camilla had 
 anything to say upon the subject, she perempto 
 rily silenced her, and Camilla had long since re 
 signed herself to the fact that Mrs. Warwick
 
 IO2 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 enjoyed a confidence she did not. Of course, she 
 avenged herself whenever she could, and found 
 plenty of ways to do it ; but Mrs. Warwick saw 
 that she was no more of a victim than the Mar 
 chioness, and knew that both had a champion in 
 the Marquis when things came to an extremity. 
 A word from him arrested Camilla s tongue, as 
 nothing else did ; and her tongue was her chief 
 instrument of vengeance, though she did not hesi 
 tate to use other means when she could. She was 
 not allowed to invade the nursery, and the children 
 never came out of it unattended either by Mrs. 
 Warwick or their mother. There are even Span 
 ish mothers, exceptional cases, who devote them 
 selves personally to the education of their children. 
 In such cases, they are usually sent to the States 
 or to France as soon as they are old enough to be 
 sent from home ; and when this cannot be done, 
 the resource seems to be to teach them to look 
 upon " la genie," or " the people," as upon a race 
 of inferior beings, not to be imitated in anything. 
 The strongest expression of disapprobation is : " Do 
 you wish to be like the people?" who are a syn 
 onym for all evil. Even Manuel thought of them 
 as people (in contradistinction to the people) for the 
 first time when Helen suggested the idea. He 
 liked to talk to her about them, since his own sym 
 pathies had been so strongly excited ; and so did 
 Carlito, who often followed her to her own apart 
 ment after he became well acquainted with her in
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 103 
 
 the nursery, where he was always perfectly happy. 
 She had checked him in speaking of "the people" 
 before the little girls, who were still in the heaven 
 of unconsciousness upon that fearful topic. 
 
 It is astonishing how long people can live on 
 the surface of a volcano without realizing its dan 
 gers. We turn away from the contemplation of 
 evils that are inevitable, and, when we veil them 
 from our sight, they are to a certain extent non 
 existent to us. Manuel had never actually wit 
 nessed the punishment of a slave. He had heard 
 the noise on that fearful night of Helen s arrival, 
 but he had been lulled to sleep again as the other 
 children were. This could not have been done if the 
 house had stood on a level with the ground, as 
 most of the Cuban country-houses do, but the 
 abode of the Marquis of Rodriguez might be 
 called a palace, and twenty or thirty steps led up 
 to the apartments of the family. The rooms of 
 the household slaves were below, with other domes 
 tic offices. Manuel knew that punishments took 
 place, but this was the first revelation to him of 
 their violence. The former overseer was not pas 
 sionate or cruel. Manuel did not know that he was 
 forbidden to visit the punished slaves because they 
 were left such cruel spectacles (they rarely emerge 
 from the hospital under a month). He had an im 
 pression that punished slaves, as part of their pun 
 ishment, were not allowed to partake of the nice 
 viands his mother sent and carried to the sick.
 
 IO4 
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 He knew enough to prevent him from betraying 
 a slave, but this was his first acquaintance with the 
 whole truth, and it was a lesson he never forgot. 
 Good, kind old Carlo he loved very much. Carlito 
 had been much shielded also, for in the city the 
 slaves are sent to the public stocks to be punished. 
 It is not a scene for "ears or eyes polite." In 
 private families, however, the ladies often keep a 
 private whip, with which they slash their maids 
 across the face and neck when displeased with 
 them. Carlito s kind mama was not a lady of 
 that order, and hitherto, when the fresh cargoes 
 were sent from the family hospital to be sold, Car 
 lito heard no more of them. 
 
 Helen s heart fainted within her, when she 
 thought at what a cost these tender-hearted chil 
 dren were taught the sin of slavery, and she 
 threw herself into the work of ameliorating the 
 lesson to them as far as possible, without losing 
 sight of the reactionary effect that she hoped and 
 felt sure would follow. When the field slaves 
 were absent at their labor, she and the Mar 
 chioness took the children out to play upon the 
 driers, or to gather flowers in the gardens and 
 hedges and portreros, as the woods were called. 
 The flower circles practised in the hard floor of 
 the piazza were tended chiefly by Juanita, who 
 called the little naked children, that were con 
 stantly running about, to bring her water in their 
 gourds ; and this was a pretty scene, which the
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 105 
 
 children could watch from their nursery windows, 
 without coming in actual contact with the lit 
 tle darkies, to whom they threw confectioneries 
 and lumps of sugar. Then Camilla would come 
 with her tubs of water and her drying-women, and 
 her endearments and droll sayings (well watched 
 and guarded) were a great source of amusement, 
 which, strange to say, she rarely abused. She 
 probably had wit enough to know that she would 
 lose her chance of seeing them if she was not 
 watchful of herself; and, amid all her oddities and 
 vices, she did love children, especially white 
 children. 
 
 " She would have been an ornament to society," 
 the Marchioness said, one day, " if she had had the 
 opportunity." 
 
 " Such activity must have a field," Helen 
 thought to herself ; " it is not her fault that she 
 has not a good one." 
 
 God leaves man to man. He does not interfere 
 arbitrarily, even to do justice. You are your 
 brother s keeper, he would signify, and he who 
 runs may read. 
 
 The Marquis had assisted his wife in his chil 
 dren s education, and Ludovico was a young man 
 of cultivated tastes and extensive reading. Gen 
 erous childhood always takes the part of the 
 oppressed, where any chance for the develop 
 ment of sentiment is afforded, and an early 
 repugnance to slavery had manifested itself in
 
 IO 6 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 Luclovico, in which his mother inwardly rejoiced, 
 while she was cautious not to impair his respect 
 for his father. It was the Marquis intention 
 that he should go to France, as he had very de 
 cided scientific tastes, having inherited something 
 of the Marquis of Ramonte s mathematical genius, 
 and his mother hoped he would never return to 
 the life of a planter, even if she was actually sep 
 arated from him. But she knew that he was too 
 affectionate a son to lose his allegiance to his par 
 ents, and a dim hope sometimes took possession 
 of her that he might be the means of freeing 
 them all from the life of bondage for the bond 
 age of the master is as veritable a fact as the 
 bondage of the slave ; the one being a moral bond 
 age only, while the other is both a moral, an in 
 tellectual, and a physical one. 
 
 Thus far, Ludovico s existence was but a luxu 
 rious dream. He had not approached the solu 
 tion of the great problem of slavery. As yet it 
 was only his instincts that were arrayed against it. 
 It was a subject never discussed, rarely touched 
 upon, and the customs of the society around 
 him were such that the. germ had not yet ex 
 panded. Except in his father s house, books and 
 literature were subjects scarce alluded to. The 
 best standard works, and all the periodical litera 
 ture of the day, were at his command, and he 
 lived with his mother in a world of intellectual 
 beauty. Life itself had hitherto been enjoyment
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 lO/ 
 
 enough, in that most delicious of all climates, 
 surrounded by every luxury ; and Ludovico had 
 scarcely yet separated himself from balmy air and 
 soft skies, nature in all its loveliest aspects, happy 
 affections, and gratified wishes, and become a con 
 scious, independent existence. Passion had not 
 yet awakened into being any unsatisfied cravings, 
 for his mother had never left him to prey upon 
 himself, but Ludovico s slumber was nearly at 
 an end. 
 
 All development in those genial climes is prema 
 ture. A youth of sixteen enters society on a cer 
 tain footing of equality with older men. There 
 is no boy-life, such as prevails in communities 
 where they are thrown together in schools. Low 
 and degrading pleasures ; hunting, and card-play 
 ing that has no intellectual excitement in it, cock- 
 fighting, idle visiting, and dancing, and some 
 cultivation of music are the chief diversions of 
 country life. In the cities, bull-baiting, cock-fight 
 ing, and the opera are the chief amusements. In 
 most houses, one sees no books but "Don Qui 
 xote," and no one can understand every-day Span 
 ish conversation who is not familiar with this work, 
 for a proverb from it finishes off nearly every re 
 mark that is made. Helen was so puzzled by it 
 that her friend told her she must surely read 
 "Don Quixote" if she wished to take part or 
 even understand common Spanish talk. 
 
 Drawing and painting were special accomplish-
 
 108 THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 ments of the Marchioness. She had studied bot 
 any with Helen, on Massachusetts hills and in her 
 valleys, and had imparted her taste and knowledge 
 to Ludovico. Music is in the air in Cuba, and 
 it requires little training to confine it within the 
 keys or strings of an instrument. Spaniards are 
 musical, negroes are musical, and the very air is 
 musical. Isabella played skilfully, and had in 
 structed her children. Ludovico had heard the 
 best of Italian music all his life, sometimes at 
 the opera in the city, and by the regimental bands, 
 that had little else to do but practise it ; and al 
 ways in private life, for that and dancing were the 
 only accomplishments there. European musicians 
 always visited Havana, and the prevailing music 
 of the hour was repeated on every plantation, with 
 more or less skill. The Marchioness remarked to 
 Helen one day that she could hardly produce so 
 fine an effect as the young men who visited them, 
 and who could sacar the music, as they called it, 
 from a piano, with two fingers. 
 
 The vices that deform society are chiefly found 
 in married life. I leave untouched the deep deg 
 radations growing out of the corruptions of city 
 traders life, where young men from the old coun 
 try form temporary connections in the families 
 where they apprentice themselves for a few years, 
 to make money in a way they are too high-born and 
 bred to do at home, leaving often large families of 
 children and forsaken wives, who have cherished
 
 THE MARCHIONESS, JQQ 
 
 secret hopes of being taken to Spain into higher 
 stations than their own, and confine myself now 
 to the upper classes of Cuban society, whose vices 
 are sui generis. 
 
 Marriage in these classes is but a nominal 
 thing, and if these ties are violated within the 
 circle of one s visiting cards little opprobrium 
 is attached to the violation. The social posi 
 tion is in no wise altered by it. Lapses from 
 virtue in unmarried women are considered dis 
 graceful and are of rare occurrence, and there 
 fore no unmarried woman must be left alone 
 with a male friend or a relative farther removed 
 than parent or brother. Indeed, no unmarried 
 lady can keep her father s house alone with 
 unblemished reputation. Not even with a priest 
 would a careful mother leave her daughter for 
 an hour. 
 
 It is true that women so corrupted are not 
 received in high society, but the fact that left- 
 handed families bear the sobriquet of Holy 
 Families shows the average morality of soci 
 ety in the colonies, with perhaps some distant 
 conception that there is something sacred in 
 true affection. 
 
 It is impossible not to be aware that the 
 institution of slavery deepens and extends 
 these social evils in all communities. But 
 where married women are obliged to reconcile
 
 IIO THE MARCHIONESS. 
 
 themselves to the facts of concubinage, prevalent 
 in all slave communities, and this, of course, 
 even without the excuse or sanction of affec 
 tion, perverted though it may be, the fountains 
 of all virtue are poisoned, and it is only because 
 the average civilization of Christendom is higher 
 than that of savage life, and that some measure 
 of intellectual cultivation withholds mankind 
 from the last degradation, that society does 
 not lapse back into barbarism. It is indeed 
 only barbarism a little refined and gilded, and 
 the remark may be hazarded that where suffer 
 ing woman has any access to the founts of Chris 
 tian truth, however muddy with superstition, 
 redemption is always possible, and not infre 
 quent. The very slaver s wife has her faith in God, 
 though she sees man, who is made in his image, 
 subjugated by her own husband. This is fact and 
 not fiction. But female slave-holders are some 
 times more refinedly cruel than men. 
 
 Such were the reflections of Helen, as her occa 
 sional conversations with her friend unfolded the 
 true condition of things around her. The con 
 fidence between them was such that no conceal 
 ment was attempted. Helen s only consolation 
 was in seeing that the Marchioness heart was 
 still the loving and kindly one she had known it 
 to be in her childhood, and that she suffered from 
 slavery more than she was willing, for her hus-
 
 THE MARCHIONESS. ! z r 
 
 band s sake, to acknowledge. This was an earnest 
 of higher internal life than a more comfortable 
 apathy and acceptance of the evil could have been. 
 Her personal happiness was in the affection of her 
 husband and his warm appreciation of her.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 ISABELLA and Helen had sank into their boutacles 
 in the hall to rest a little before the visiting hour 
 arrived, for the country was at that season full of 
 company ; Camilla rushed into the hall, so suddenly 
 that Helen was alarmed. 
 
 " Ah, my lady ! ah ! gentlemen coming ! Ave, 
 Maria sanctissima ! the nino Fernando! ah, yes, 
 yes, see him, the nino Fernando and the nino 
 Pancho in the country, too. Ave, Maria sanctis 
 sima ! and there is the nino Pepe." Here she 
 twitched off her shawl, and began dusting. 
 
 "No dusting at this hour, Camilla," was all the 
 Marchioness had time to say before the young men 
 had jumped from- their horses and run up the 
 steps. Camilla rushed forward, and called out from 
 the piazza, " Jose ! Tono ! Pablo ! come take the 
 gentlemen s horses." The gentlemen greeted her 
 as she passed, which was evidently what she 
 wished for. 
 
 " Ay ! good day, nino Fernando, many thanks, 
 many thanks, very well, very well and you, too, 
 nino Pancho ! my life ! my soul ! and nino Pepe !
 
 THE DIA T J\ T ER. 
 
 113 
 
 Jose ! Tono ! Pablo ! are you sleeping ? bad boys ! 
 Canailla ! why don t you come ? " 
 
 " Camilla, go and find them, and make no more 
 noise," said Isabella, not quite so patiently as 
 usual. 
 
 " Ay, yes ! my lady, going, going yes poor 
 Carlo ! poor Jacobo ! poor Maria ! Ah, yes 
 the dogs, the dogs ! did you see the dogs, niiio 
 Fernando ! " 
 
 " Camilla, go instantly ! " said the Marchioness, 
 with all the sternness she could command. 
 
 " Camilla seems more lively than usual to-day," 
 said one of the gentlemen, who had in the mean 
 time greeted the ladies. " Has anything unusual 
 happened ? " 
 
 Camilla, hearing her name, had stolen back, 
 and was seen peeping from behind the door. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; poor Carlo ! poor Carlo ! " 
 
 "Camilla, be silent!" exclaimed the Marchion 
 ess, though in despair. 
 
 Camilla again moved slowly away, with her head 
 sunk upon her arm, the picture of mock-woe and 
 discomfiture ; but she was not sufficiently afraid 
 of her mistress to be obedient indeed, it was 
 one of the trials of her mistress life that this 
 woman was upon her hands, though she always 
 declared her to be a genius in her vocation. 
 
 The young men who had called this morning 
 were intimate friends of the family, and under 
 stood both parties perfectly. Don Pepe, the
 
 114 
 
 THE DINNER, 
 
 youngest of the brothers, enjoyed nothing more 
 than playing off the old orang-outang, as he 
 always called Camilla, and the Marchioness rather 
 dreaded the encounter to-day, for the theme was 
 too sad a one for sport, and she would willingly 
 have kept it wholly in the background. There is 
 no such thing as privacy on a plantation ; the 
 negroes are rapid means of communication, and a 
 disaster on any plantation is soon known far and 
 wide, and often with many exaggerations. 
 
 Isabella now presented these friends to Helen, 
 with whose name they had long been familiar, 
 and their warm welcome was very courteous and 
 cordial. When she answered it in good Spanish 
 their delight was boundless, for a visitor with 
 whom they can talk is a boon on a plantation, 
 which becomes a very tedious residence to young 
 men and women, unless enlivened by entertaining 
 company, for the Spaniards have few resources 
 within themselves. The ladies embroider muslin 
 for the dresses of the Christmas holidays, and the 
 gentlemen hunt a few small game, make calls 
 when the roads are good, get up dances when 
 they can, even in the morning call, and, if it rains 
 so hard that they cannot go out to ride, go to bed 
 and endeavor to sleep away the time. They do 
 not even indulge in the solace of a book, but are 
 never tired of playing cards or billiards. Scarcely 
 a family on the island was so cultivated as that of 
 the Marchioness, whose literary resources made
 
 THE DINNER. H$ 
 
 her a favorite in society, and she had a happy 
 faculty of drawing out what intelligence existed 
 in the brains of her visitors. An introduction in 
 the home of a friend puts an end to all reserve at 
 once in a Spaniard, and the guest is adopted as 
 one of an intimate circle, without farther prelimi 
 nary acquaintance. When a Spaniard tells a 
 stranger that everything he has is at his disposal, 
 and wishes him, at parting, to live a thousand 
 years, it is very difficult not to believe him sin 
 cere, such is the potency of beautiful manners 
 and the music of the language. " May God have 
 you in his holy keeping," means no more than the 
 French "a Dieu " or the English "Farewell"; 
 but when such benevolent wishes are enforced by 
 the most ardent gestures, one feels as if Christian 
 love and community of interests were ingredients 
 of the atmosphere. 
 
 The Marquis and his son now entered from the 
 gallery. The sound of their voices again brought 
 Camilla from her little pantry, which stood adjacent 
 to the dinner-gallery, and from which she could 
 always see or hear what was passing in the hall. 
 
 " Camilla, sugar and water," said the Marquis. 
 
 " Ah, yes, mi alma ! Luclovico, my life ! apple 
 of my eye ! core of my heart ! welcome home ! " 
 Then, crossing her hands upon her bosom, she 
 turned her head on one shoulder, and laughed 
 foolishly to herself. " French ladies walk ! dogs 
 very bad ! poor Carlo ! "
 
 Il6 THE DINNER. 
 
 " Silence, fool ! " exclaimed the Marquis, in a 
 voice that made Camilla disappear from the scene 
 without farther word or pantomime ; and when 
 she returned with the sugar and water, she came 
 with noiseless tread and downcast eyes. Upon 
 her arm hung a long linen napkin of the finest 
 cambric, deeply embroidered, and edged with lace, 
 upon which the gentlemen wiped their fingers and 
 mouths after sipping the sugar and water. Don 
 Pepe thanked her with much solemnity, but not 
 a motion was apparent in her now stony counte 
 nance, and no sound issued from her lips. The 
 stage effect with which she threw herself into 
 each role that she assumed would have amused a 
 light heart, but Helen could not smile to-day 
 unless her thoughts were diverted from that ele 
 ment of the society in which she found herself, 
 and of which she found it a constant compo 
 nent. 
 
 It was not long before Camilla reappeared, with 
 a huge tray of oranges, peeled and halved, stacked 
 high, and a pile of napkins on a small tray behind 
 her, that was borne by a little barefooted, half- 
 naked negro boy. The company sucked the juice 
 from the oranges, and threw the skins upon the 
 floor, which were seized and borne away by the 
 little fellow after he had handed the napkins. He 
 soon returned and gathered the napkins. 
 
 When the gentlemen walked away to the other 
 end of the piazza, in conversation with the Mar-
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 117 
 
 quis and Ludovico, Helen asked the Marchioness 
 if this was a common exhibition of Camilla s. 
 
 " Oh, very common ; but it is not often that 
 her master speaks so sternly to her. Probably 
 she will not speak again to-day ; neither will she 
 do anything. We shall all have to suffer on 
 account of her discomfiture, particularly as these 
 young men are here. Fernando is very discreet, 
 but Pepe has no consideration for me, and cannot 
 resist playing her off. Sometimes she gets up 
 some rare dish for them, but if she is displeased 
 with me, she knows she can annoy me by having 
 a very meagre dinner, or by spoiling whatever she 
 touches. I am her slave, I assure you. If I go 
 to make any inquiries, about the dessert, for 
 instance, I shall only make the matter w r orse. 
 I shall try hard to keep quiet. If I can privately 
 communicate with Tom, the cook, who is as good- 
 natured as she is id-tempered, I shall be sure to 
 have his part of the dinner in good order. They 
 are sworn enemies, and she will do everything she 
 can to defeat his plans ; but it will be a comfort 
 to have good meats and vegetables, if we cannot 
 have good puddings, sweetmeats, and fruits. Per 
 haps Juanita will come in again, and she can 
 sometimes outwit her. But Juanita is much out 
 of spirits to-day, as we all are." 
 
 The gentlemen, now possessed of what hap 
 pened the night before, of which they had heard 
 rumors on the way, expressed great sympathy for 
 the sufferers.
 
 Il8 THE DINNER. 
 
 Helen s heart warmed up immediately to Don 
 Fernando when he exclaimed, with much feeling, 
 
 O 
 
 " Ah, la Marquesa ! what a sad thing this slavery 
 is ! I wish there was no such thing ! " 
 
 " So do I," said Ludovico. " I am going to the 
 States to live ; there is one part of them at least 
 where there is no slavery, and I will brave the 
 cold for the sake of turning my back upon it. I 
 would not stay here if I were you, Miss Went- 
 worth. I know you think we are cruel and 
 wicked people. / do." 
 
 A look from his father silenced Ludovico as 
 effectually as it had Camilla, but Don Fernando 
 went on : " It is a sad inheritance. I sometimes 
 wish I had never been out of the country, that I 
 might not draw parallels. I think all the world 
 that I have seen is pretty bad, but this is the worst 
 that there is." 
 
 "Are you not talking dangerously, Don Fer 
 nando ? " asked the Marquis. 
 
 " I don t know who there is to make me afraid," 
 replied Fernando. 
 
 "But do you not risk promoting insurrection ?" 
 
 "My people know just what I think, but I am 
 not afraid of them." 
 
 "You have an excellent overseer." 
 
 " If he is as good when we are absent from the 
 plantation as when we are here ; but he keeps very 
 good order without severity." 
 
 " Your slaves are not new like mine."
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 119 
 
 " I know I have that advantage, and Dona 
 Josefa is a very gentle mistress. The people all 
 love her well enough to obey her. They see that 
 she has a fellow-feeling for them. You have good 
 people too, Marquis. This accident must not dis 
 courage you. You have not so many deadheads 
 to look after as we have had. They make the 
 most trouble on a plantation." 
 
 All this was music to Helen s ear. It renewed 
 her confidence in her friends, who must not suffer 
 injustice from her because a bad man had done a 
 bad action. 
 
 Still, the view she had had behind the scenes, in 
 both her experiences, stamped the institution of 
 slavery with the character it deserved. 
 
 Helen would fain have enlarged upon the sub 
 ject, but she saw the turn the conversation had 
 taken was not agreeable to the host. Other guests 
 came, and all was hilarity. 
 
 The recent death of Ferdinand of Spain had 
 suppressed all the public festivities of Christmas 
 the preceding year ; a decree went forth, as part of 
 the public mourning, that there should be no public 
 dancing for six months. No other observance of 
 the national loss (supposing it was such) could so 
 effectually have saddened the countenances of the 
 pleasure-loving Spaniards, to whom music and 
 dancing are as nectar and ambrosia were to the 
 gods of Olympus. Outward rebellion was impos 
 sible under a despotic monarchy and its despotic
 
 12Q THE DINNER. 
 
 representatives ; but the spirit of the decree was 
 thoroughly evaded by a proportionate increase of 
 private music and dancing. The holidays were 
 near at hand, the pressure would be lifted this 
 year, and the proprietors of the plantations, most 
 of whom lived in the citv, were flocking to their 
 
 J * ^> 
 
 country residences accompanied by troops of 
 friends. Every clay of the holidays must be spent 
 in festivity and visiting. This was as much a part 
 of the national religion as the observance of the 
 festival days of the Church. Indeed, in Cuba the 
 festal celebrations of the Church were still relig 
 iously observed, while the fasts were wholly dis 
 pensed with, for, since the license that had prevailed 
 in the colonies at the period of the Constitution 
 in Spain, religion had been but a nominal thing 
 except in the hearts of some devout women and 
 aged men. 
 
 Village balls were to occupy every evening of 
 the coming holidays. These take place in some 
 public home of the village, and are supported by 
 the gambling tables. Few skilled games are 
 played in Cuba, but the guests bet upon the num 
 ber of spots upon a card, and then fall into the 
 dance in another apartment, in the intervals of 
 which they go to learn the fortunes of the game. 
 Estates often change owners under the tremen 
 dous excitement of the play not an intellectual 
 excitement as in other regions, but strictly a 
 moneyed one.
 
 THE DINNER. I2 r 
 
 As Camilla was to all intents and purposes, 
 through perverseness, off duty to-day, and as Carlo s 
 family, the usual house servants, were disabled, the 
 Marchioness was obliged to superintend in person 
 the arrangements for a large number of guests, which 
 number was liable to increase till the last moment. 
 Tom was equal to all demands in his department, and 
 the resources of the plantation in meats, fruits, and 
 vegetables were inexhaustible, and sometimes Tom 
 got up the best dinners when he was most intoxi 
 cated, but some exceptions to this always made his 
 mistress tremble. Drinking was forbidden on this 
 well regulated plantation, but Tom was the c/icfoi a 
 deceased relative, who had bequeathed him to the 
 Marquis, and his equal was not known in the 
 neighborhood, so that his delinquencies had to be 
 winked at for the sake of his services. Besides 
 this, Tom was the kindest, lovingest, and most 
 faithful of servants, barring his infirmity. Camilla 
 hated him because of his successes, but he did not 
 hate any one, only coolly baffled her schemes, and, 
 if she were off the ground from ill-temper, he 
 would even venture upon her department and send 
 in from his cooking cabin the choicest of pastry. 
 This possibility was the only check upon Camilla s 
 disloyalty to her kind mistress. If there had been 
 no one to take her place in emergencies, the 
 Marchioness would have been a more unhappy 
 victim then she was. The expenditure of talent 
 in the art of tormenting on Camilla s part was
 
 122 THE DINNER. 
 
 worthy of study. She was never so happy as when 
 others were unhappy ; the greater confusion, the 
 higher her spirits rose. If she felt good-natured, 
 if her inexplicable vanity was gratified, she could 
 do wonders. The Marchioness rejoiced to-day that 
 Don Fernando and Don Pepe were there, for they 
 always praised her for her achievements, and she 
 took pride in calling forth their commendations, 
 not realizing the degree to which they amused 
 themselves by playing upon her weaknesses. 
 What she might do to-day no one could conjecture. 
 If she would not speak all day there would be 
 great rejoicing in high places, for this passive form 
 of revenge was the least harmful under the present 
 circumstances. 
 
 When the young people began to dance, which 
 Ludovico promoted as soon as possible, Helen 
 was rejoiced that there were enough dancers 
 without her, and declined many urgent invitations 
 to partake in the amusement. Her puritanic edu 
 cation did not admit of waltzing, but she could 
 have enjoyed the poetry of motion as exemplified 
 in the southern contra-dances, if the music and 
 the gayety had not on this occasion seemed to 
 her like heartless mockery. She would gladly 
 have retired from the scene, but social life on the 
 plantations does not admit of that degree of self- 
 indulgence. Every one is expected to do his part, 
 by presence at least, especially in the country, 
 where solitude is the rule and society the exception.
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 123 
 
 The beautiful Juanita, who had attracted her 
 attention all day, moved slowly round among the 
 company, bearing oranges. Her beauty and her 
 tasteful dress attracted the attention of every one. 
 Her features were very soft, though their contour 
 was lofty, and the rich brown complexion was set off 
 by a highly colored muslin handkerchief, that was 
 twirled into a becoming turban, a costume that 
 prevailed among ladies as well as among slaves, 
 differing only in the costliness of the material. 
 There was not a lady in the company whose grace 
 of motion, clearness of complexion, or dignity of 
 mien surpassed hers. She lifted her eyes to no 
 one, and no one addressed her in the presence of 
 her mistress. A simple muslin dress, cut to her 
 throat, with short sleeves that left exposed an 
 arm that would make a sculptor rave, set off her 
 singular Moorish beauty, which bore no trace of 
 the negro. 
 
 The dinner was a success, in spite of Camilla s 
 perversity. Tom was sober that day, and realized 
 the importance of his position. It was even sup 
 posed that Camilla sometimes smuggled into his 
 cabin a bottle of liquor, to defeat any plans he 
 might form to baffle her. She could not make 
 him quarrel, and did not dare to find fault with 
 him aloud ; for Tom was one of the Marquis pets, 
 and of the Marquis she stood in awe. She had 
 been known to make his nice viands disappear 
 mysteriously, at the very moment they were
 
 124 
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 wanted. I say "had been known," but mumma 
 Camilla was too skilled a diplomatist ever to have 
 been detected in such practices. It was only by 
 inference that such things could ever be laid at 
 her door, circumstantial evidence, whose weight 
 she was herself unable to estimate ; sudden ac 
 cess of good spirits ; preternatural activity to 
 supply the deficiency, or pretended eagerness to 
 discover the culprit, laying the charge, perhaps, 
 to some unfortunate individual who had offended 
 her, or even to Tom himself. No missing spoons 
 were ever found in her baskets, but she would 
 sometimes produce them with : " Does any one 
 know how to find lost things like mumma Ca 
 milla?" And, if asked where they were found, 
 she would shake her head mysteriously. " Povere- 
 cita (poor little one) ! Canailla! we will not tell this 
 time ; it will never be done there again. My eyes 
 are open now, and it would be hard to punish her 
 the first time ! " When pressed, as had some 
 times been the case, punishment had been admin 
 istered in the wrong places, and her mistress 
 preferred, upon the whole, to pretend belief in the 
 old hag s superior knowledge and benevolence, 
 especially if things came back in due time ; and 
 she found that their reappearance was invariably 
 in the inverse ratio to the anxiety she expressed. 
 Tom was the most kind-hearted of human crea 
 tures. He could not wring a chicken s neck 
 without turning his head aside. He made toys
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 125 
 
 for the children, cages for their birds, nets for 
 catching fishes from the lagoon, and traps for 
 game ; brought them flowers from the forest 
 trees, and birds eggs from the deserted nests. It 
 will be seen that Tom was not wholly consistent 
 in his benevolence, but he would not rob a mother- 
 bird of its eggs. His good offices were not con 
 fined to his mistress children. All the little 
 darkies on the plantation were his friends. He 
 bound them to him by bones from his stews and 
 cooked vegetables from his kettles. They brought 
 him wood from the portreros, vegetables from the 
 garden, windfalls from the orange-trees, eggs 
 from the hens nests, when they could steal them 
 slyly, but hens were negro property, and woe 
 be it to them if they were found out! such 
 eggs were always ostensibly from stolen nests. 
 Through the children he undoubtedly obtained 
 the intoxicating draughts that were his passion, 
 but no investigation had ever come to the bottom 
 of this mystery. Tom was the only safe trans 
 gressor upon the plantation, for careful restric 
 tions were, in other cases, well enforced upon this 
 point. 
 
 But Tom never allowed the children to step 
 over the threshold of his cabin, nor, indeed, did 
 man or woman ever venture so far. He was lord 
 and master of that domain. His cooking cabin 
 was about twenty rods from the mansion, and he 
 also appropriated twenty feet in circuit around it
 
 126 THE DINNER. 
 
 for his various kettles, for his culinary apparatus 
 inside (I do not know the nature of it) did not 
 accommodate all the varieties of Tom s cooking 
 exploits. Don Pancho, one of the present guests, 
 had been known to put his head into the door 
 occasionally, to request Tom not to put pepper 
 into the food that day, for he had been in France 
 and had acquired the notion that pepper was not 
 good for himself. From some unaccountable 
 reason, supposed by the imaginative to be a 
 golden reason, which could be transmuted into 
 comforting beverages, Tom did not resent this 
 intrusion, but it was the solitary exception known. 
 Helen took a great fancy for peeping in one day, 
 but the Marchioness described Tom s idiosyn 
 crasy upon the subject, and also advised her not 
 to do it on her own account, if she ever expected 
 to relish her food again ; so she gave up the 
 attempt and endeavored to forget that she had 
 ever thought of it, although Isabella ended her 
 remonstrance with " Fire purifies everything, you 
 know." 
 
 When the company was fairly seated at table in 
 the open gallery behind the saloon and shaded 
 from the sun by the linen drapery, which at a sub 
 sequent hour was raised for air and for a view of 
 the splendid flower-border that separated the house 
 from the coffee-driers, flagons of cool water stand 
 ing in saucers and wreathed with flowers (a pecu 
 liarity of Spanish tables), with which Juanita had
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 127 
 
 decked them to please Ludovico, for she cared 
 little that day to please the company expected to 
 the dinner, Camilla opened the door of her little 
 pantry and came slowly forth, her face wrapped in 
 a huge layer of cotton batting, and established 
 herself with her dish-tub on the upper step of the 
 gallery, where she was accustomed to wash the 
 plates from the table as they were rapidly changed 
 for the different courses. Her mistress would 
 gladly have dispensed with this spectacle, though 
 there was a certain satisfaction in seeing one s 
 plates so thoroughly washed as mumma Camilla 
 was in the habit of washing them, but she dreaded 
 the display and the noise that would probably ac 
 company it. Camilla walked slowly back and forth 
 several times in pursuit of her soap and her cloths, 
 her arms hanging lifeless as it were before her, 
 her head drawn a little aside, apparently in pain, 
 and her eyes red and swollen with weeping. When 
 several of the company who knew her and had 
 often been amused by her spoke to her, and ex 
 pressed pity for her pain, she answered them only 
 in "pantomime, pointing with solemn gestures to 
 her face, shaking her head, and drawing deep 
 sighs. 
 
 " Mumma Camilla has the toothache," said Don 
 Pepe to Ludovico across Miss Wentworth. "Shall 
 I send her a dish of soup ? " 
 
 It is a Spanish custom to send tidbits to friends 
 across the table.
 
 128 THE DINNER. 
 
 " Ay, Pepe ! if you have any pity upon us, do 
 not take any notice of her," said Ludovico. 
 "There are strangers sitting by mama, and I 
 am afraid the old creature will do some ridiculous 
 thing." 
 
 " For my part," said Don Pepe, " I am never 
 satisfied till I have had a little fun with mumma 
 Camilla." 
 
 Camilla s eyes were not so swollen that she 
 could not see that Don Pepe was ready for a frolic, 
 and, catching the sound of her name, she sat down 
 on the steps of the gallery, and began to wash 
 some plates just taken from the table. 
 
 " Ay, no ! mumma Camilla, do not sit in that 
 wind ; it will make your toothache worse." 
 
 A solemn shake of the head and a furious clat 
 ter of plates was the only notice taken of this 
 kindly warning, nor could Pepe, by all his arts, 
 elicit a word. If crockery could speak an intelli 
 gible language, it would have been all-sufficient, 
 and the din waxed louder and louder, till the Mar 
 quis uttered in a loud voice, " Silenzio ! go to 
 your pantry, Camilla." 
 
 There was no appeal from this, and slowly and 
 despondingly Camilla obeyed but before long 
 she emerged with a young assistant, who took her 
 place at the tub, and every time she made the 
 slightest noise with a plate, Camilla warned her 
 with a sign from her finger. She watched the 
 Marquis eye, and if it turned to the other side,
 
 THE DINNER. 
 
 129 
 
 she indulged in frantic pantomimes of pain but 
 she was vigilant enough not to let him catch her 
 at that amusement. She took no notice of Tom s 
 wonderful performances in the way of pastry, but 
 Pepe did his best to praise them and to send tid 
 bits of them to his friends around the table, for 
 each of which Camilla was called upon for a plate. 
 Fernando turned his reproving eye upon him 
 several times, but he was as incorrigible as Camilla 
 herself, and did his best to make a sensation. 
 
 When the meats and pies were disposed of, the 
 Marquis gave a signal, and the company rose and 
 walked out upon the piazza, on the other side of 
 the saloon for refreshments, while the fruits and 
 sweetmeats and some light wines were set upon 
 the table, when the company reseated themselves, 
 changing their former places for variety, and sat 
 an hour longer. The party broke up after another 
 dance, and the wearied hosts separated, hoping 
 to rest after their thirty-six hours of excitement. 
 
 And every day was a partial repetition of sim 
 ilar scenes, till the holidays were over.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 THE quitrin which was whirled to the door 
 after the departure of the guests was a volante 
 with a movable top which can be thrown back 
 like an old-fashioned English chaise. The cale- 
 sero was in his gayest holiday livery, for he had 
 been in attendance at the dinner table where the 
 coachmen even of the guests wait upon their 
 masters. 
 
 The harness was of burnished silver, polished 
 to its utmost brilliancy, and the liveries were 
 slashed with blue, and embroidered with silver 
 lace. Long blue ribbons floated from the steeple- 
 crowned hat of the calesero, with gay cockades to 
 match, fastened upon the side of the steeple with 
 large silver buttons. The blue silk linings and 
 curtains of the quitrin were trimmed with deep 
 silver fringe. There was not a more tasteful car 
 riage in the island. 
 
 " This turn-out is especially in honor of you," 
 
 said the Marquesa to her friend. " I suppose Pope 
 
 Urban, as we call him, thought the carriage should 
 
 match the liveries to-day, and every slave on the 
 
 130
 
 THE DRIVE. l ^i 
 
 plantation knows that you are my particular 
 American friend. Pope Urban has almost given 
 up driving, since he has grown so old, but I under 
 stand this is a compliment to myself." 
 
 Before Helen was aware, Pope Urban had deftly 
 lifted and deposited her in the sky-blue quitrin, 
 and then performed the same office for his lady. 
 
 "I have had many a ride in a basket on Pope 
 Urban s head. He considers me his especial prop 
 erty, and was a present from my kind father on 
 my marriage." 
 
 One horse was placed between the shafts, the 
 other outside, and the latter Pope Urban bestrode, 
 with much grace, holding the reins almost at arm s 
 length. 
 
 "What a fatiguing mode of guiding the horses," 
 said Helen. 
 
 "Yes," replied her friend, "the caleseros do not 
 generally live to be as old as Pope Urban. The 
 position in which they drive soon affects the 
 chest. But this old man has been favored. He 
 superintends the younger caleseros, and rarely 
 drives now. But I always feel safest in his 
 hands. The boys have great command over the 
 horses, with whom they are brought up as daily 
 companions, but they are so careless that I never 
 ride without trembling, and indeed I rarely take 
 out the children without my husband is with me, 
 and he uses reins and an American bit to please 
 me. This bit which Urban uses does not pass
 
 132 
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 through the mouth, but only above and below it, 
 and it never seems so safe to me. Pope Urban is 
 always prompt too. I did not expect to see the 
 volante for an hour to come. One New England 
 domestic will do the work of half a dozen slaves, 
 and in half the time. But it is a sad pity that 
 you are plunged at once into this painful subject. 
 I hoped to veil it from your eyes for a long time. 
 Indeed, this dreadful occurrence is the first experi 
 ence of the kind since my marriage. My husband 
 has been so careful, and our good overseer never 
 exposed anything to me." 
 
 Helen wondered if he was good to those below 
 him as well as to those above him. 
 
 " Camilla was spoiled before I came to La Con- 
 solacion. A former overseer ruined her, and they 
 became such tyrants together that the whole rule 
 was taken from the master s hands, till on one 
 occasion they ventured a little too far, and he was 
 dismissed, and Camilla sent into the field till her 
 proud spirit was humbled a little. Since my 
 regime she has taken me for her slave ; but she is 
 so useful I cannot do without her, and when my 
 children are ill she is like one inspired. She is 
 never so well content as when the power is all in 
 her own hands." 
 
 "You are under bondage, indeed, dear Isabella," 
 exclaimed Helen. " Forgive me for reproaching 
 you this morning." 
 
 " Oh, yes, dear, fully. To tell the truth, there
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 133 
 
 was a certain satisfaction in listening to your 
 indignation. But my husband does the best he 
 can. Many of these people are raw Africans. 
 The cholera desolated this part of the island last 
 year, and we lost more than half our people. It 
 is very difficult to break the new ones in." 
 
 As the Marquesa spoke, the horse in the shafts 
 gave a sudden start, and nearly disengaged the 
 reins from the hand of Pope Urban. But, though 
 unprepared, his presence of mind did not forsake 
 him, and he drew him up strongly, directly oppo 
 site the object of his terror, judging, doubtless, 
 that if he left it behind, he should not be able to 
 restrain his flight. The sharp prickers on the bit 
 penetrated his flesh above and below the mouth, 
 and the blood spouted forth. This arrested his 
 progress, and he suddenly stopped, trembling 
 violently. 
 
 A little old man, frightful enough in aspect to 
 have terrified man or beast, rose from the brink of 
 a large marble basin to sue for money. He did 
 not mean to frighten the horse, and probably a 
 chicken in the hedge would have produced the 
 same effect upon the noble animal. 
 
 "What are you doing here, Jose?" said the 
 Marquesa. 
 
 " Dead fish kill fish, take out dead fish," he 
 answered, in broken Spanish. 
 
 " Go to the other side, away from the park, for 
 fear of frightening; other horses. If Pablo had
 
 134 
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 been driving, we should have been run away 
 with." 
 
 "Much sorry, lady good lady. Urban o know 
 horse, horse know Urbano," he added, and, 
 seeing the blood flow from the horse s mouth, he 
 dropped his gourd into the water and put it to the 
 poor beast s mouth, and then threw the remainder 
 over his head. The grateful animal, quite tamed 
 down, acknowledged the kindness with expressive 
 motions of his ears, and they rode on in silence 
 for some time. 
 
 " You see they are not all Urbans, dear Helen. 
 That is one of the bozals that came last year ; 
 he is a cripple from some cause, but was bought 
 in a large coffle, and has never been put to hard 
 work." 
 
 Helen did not -wish to know how he had been 
 reduced to such a hideous semblance of humanity, 
 and only replied : 
 
 " He has a kind heart left." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said the Marquesa, " they are a 
 kindly race ; but let us not talk of them any more 
 now. I am afraid you will not observe all the 
 beauties around you. Is not my rose hedge 
 beautiful ? " 
 
 The hedge was about three feet in height and 
 now in full bloom of clustered roses, as delicate 
 and almost as small as the Multiflora. It looked 
 indeed like a bank of roses. 
 
 Helen had not been unmindful of the stately
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 135 
 
 palm-avenues she had threaded the night before, 
 but even the rosy sunset did not make them 
 glorious to her to-day. All was darkened to her 
 vision, and the long avenues, imposing as they 
 were, no longer seemed to her living pillars of 
 beauty, spreading their tufted foliage as an ex 
 pression of their own inward joy for the fulness 
 of life ; for here the very plants of the earth 
 seemed to breath consciously, from the spiritual 
 night-blooming cereus which expands after the 
 sun goes down from bud to flower, before the 
 astonished gaze of the beholder to the more 
 homely grain, which springs from the rich earth 
 the very day after it is planted. 
 
 The mysterious shadows of the cocoas, which 
 the day before looked like the guardians of hidden 
 coolness, as they interposed their rustling shields 
 between her and the burning sun when the 
 horses heads were turned into their friendly 
 avenues for rest and refreshment, now cast a 
 melancholy veil over the earth they shaded, and 
 the stiff leaves whispered sad secrets of wrong 
 done and unredeemed. The Gothic arches of the 
 bamboo alleys were in consonance with her feel 
 ings. The deciduous leaf, which is constantly 
 falling, forms a thick russet carpet under the 
 plumy foliage of these gigantic tufted grasses, 
 whose tops, interlaced in an impenetrable roof, 
 give no access to the sun, and impart the sensa 
 tion of a cool grotto. Every pore is sensitive to
 
 !^6 THE DRIVE. 
 
 the influences of nature in this delicious climate. 
 Each plant and tree tells its own tale, awakens its 
 own analogy with life ; but these analogies are but 
 echoes of the soul that lays itself open to their 
 influences. 
 
 When they emerged into an open plain and she 
 saw groups of palm-trees in the distance, where 
 they stood, in their native wildness, struggling up 
 to the sky for light, it seemed to Helen that they 
 were stretching away from the earth, lifting their 
 tufted heads to the heavens to call down mercy 
 upon the wretched world beneath them. 
 
 The negro gang was just crossing the plain, on 
 their way home from a wood where they had been 
 cutting brush, and as they passed the ladies they 
 greeted them with the usual Spanish salutation, 
 " May God have you in his holy keeping ! " which 
 probably many of them did not understand them 
 selves. 
 
 A single garment constituted the dress of each. 
 The men wore duck pantaloons, the women a 
 short-sleeved, low chemise, fitting rather tight. 
 Neither sex had any protection for the head, but 
 had worked all day under the eye of the overseer, 
 in the burning sun, scarcely daring to raise their 
 heads for fear of the impending lash of the exas 
 perated wretch, who was obliged to superintend 
 more closely than usual, since he had disabled his 
 negro driver. The superintendence consists in 
 working all equally, whether able or not, and
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 137 
 
 quickening the laggards by the application of the 
 whip. Is it surprising that when their tormentor 
 has to turn his back upon one gang, to visit another 
 at some other spot, they all rest and even play, 
 driver and all, for the ten or fifteen minutes of 
 exemption ? Yet a certain amount of work must 
 be done, or the punishment comes at the end of 
 the day. 
 
 On this afternoon, to close the day s work, they 
 had been sent to cut brush, and were returning, 
 unusually wearied and heavily laden and foot-sore. 
 There were brawny men and stout women among 
 the recent bozals, but others were bent and 
 feeble. 
 
 Over the sad faces of many a gleam of sunshine 
 passed, as if of remembered kindness, and dazzling 
 and angelic must have been the vision of their 
 lady in her splendid vehicle. 
 
 One tall, slender, but athletic-looking young 
 woman raised her eyes for a moment but passed 
 on without bending her head or uttering a word, 
 or making a gesture of salutation. 
 
 "Did you remark that girl s eye, Helen?" said 
 the Marquesa. 
 
 " I did indeed," she replied. " She looks like 
 poor Dolores," was the passing thought. 
 
 It was indeed poor Dolores, though Helen did 
 not realize the fact. 
 
 " I never saw it before, but I am glad she has 
 looked at me at last. She is a recent bozal, and I
 
 I3 8 THE DRIVE. 
 
 have never before seen her but with downcast 
 brow and eyes averted. No one has ever elicited 
 anything but a monosyllable from her, and she has 
 kept very much to herself, the women tell me. I 
 have tried some of my arts to engage her attention, 
 for I found Pope Urban much interested in her. 
 She is a native of the same tribe as himself, and 
 the only one he has ever seen. I am afraid this 
 wicked overseer has not treated her well, for I am 
 sure those eyes were more like the eyes of a wild 
 animal than of a human being." 
 
 " The expression was indeed fearful," said Helen. 
 And again she saw the resemblance to Dolores, 
 but, not thinking it likely to be she, she could not 
 bring herself to tell that sad story. 
 
 As they crossed from one plantation to another, 
 they passed deep forests whose verdure was fes 
 tooned together by giant vines, that often had 
 smothered and hugged the life out of the trees 
 that supported them ; becoming in their turn the 
 supporters, and flourishing upon the juices of the 
 trees embraced, they had usurped the domain of 
 earth and air, which were the original possessors 
 of the trees. One, more remarkable than the rest, 
 had been chosen as the entrance to the avenue of 
 a splendid domain, and Urban had purposely 
 brought them that way to show it to the " Ameri 
 cana," and now drew up his horses under the 
 wonderful natural arch. Two giant ceyba or cotton- 
 wood trees that stood at the distance of thirty feet
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 139 
 
 from each other, had, early in their growth, crossed 
 their branches thirty feet above the head of a tall 
 man, and both trees had continued to grow, had 
 become encircled with an enormous vine, and now 
 presented a symmetrical and perfect pointed arch. 
 The two had then shot up straight into the air, 
 joining their trunks and forming a double column. 
 The intertwining had not checked their growth, 
 but both had prospered. 
 
 The ceyba tree, whose roots appear above the 
 ground, and seem to support the shaft, shoots up to 
 an immense height, and is surmounted by a crown 
 of leaves of very delicate form and texture, so 
 that it traces a fine net-work against the sky. A 
 huge vine of the boa-constrictor species had 
 grown up by the side of this one, laying its own 
 roots parallel with the enormous cordages thrown 
 out from the broad spread trunk, which balanced 
 the mighty top, and thus enabled the shaft to re 
 sist the sweeping tornadoes, which would other 
 wise tear it from its bed. The vine had seemed 
 to respect the picturesque arrangement of nature, 
 for it did not begin to twine around the tree till it 
 had grown above the archway, and then it wound 
 its huge spirals about them both, bedding itself 
 firmly in the bark as it grew, till the enormous 
 trunk had withered in its embrace, so that one 
 side of the arch was hollow to its very peak. The 
 delicate foliage of the vine, adorned with pale yel 
 low flowers, crept over and around the branches
 
 140 
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 of the original tree, mingled itself with the few re 
 maining living twigs of one portion of it, and 
 hung its luxuriant tracery in the most graceful 
 drapery over the whole. Our stateliest hemlocks 
 hardly compare well in height with this tropical 
 tree. Once in many years it bears flowers and 
 fruit, which latter is bedded in a pod of the soft 
 est and silkiest down, not yet brought within the 
 grasp of machinery, but used for beds and cush 
 ions. Just after the dropping of the pod, the tree 
 loses its foliage for a time, but its symmetry is so 
 exquisite that even in its nakedness it is sublime. 
 
 La Ascencion, where the Marchioness pro 
 posed to make a call, was the residence of Count 
 von Miiller, one of the few Germans to be met 
 with in the island. The approach from this 
 unique gateway was through an avenue of mango 
 and tamarind trees, that skirted a deep wood on 
 either side. The mango trees, somewhat resem 
 bling the horse-chestnut in form, were weighed to 
 the ground with the brilliant scarlet and orange, 
 pear-shaped fruit, a great favorite with the island 
 ers, when cooked as a sauce. The long, shining, 
 lanceolate leaves are not unlike those of our moun 
 tain-laurel. The feathery, acacia-like foliage of 
 the tamarind contrasts finely with these. Under 
 their shade grew many delicate plants, and among 
 the rest was cultivated, carefully, one that is gen 
 erally found only in wild woods : the Campanula, 
 a shrub surmounted by large, white, bell-shaped
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 141 
 
 flowers of the frailest texture, half a foot in length, 
 and of exquisite symmetry of shape. They looked 
 like spiritual bells, too large for fairies, but too del 
 icate to be handled by mortal hands. 
 
 In a circle of tea-roses, all in rich and fragrant 
 bloom, stood the house of Count von Miiller. Be 
 hind it stretched away extensive stone coffee- 
 driers, skirted in their turn by clay cottages, of 
 tasteful form, the habitations of the negroes. 
 
 When they drew up to the door, a huge tur- 
 baned head, surmounting a plump, handsome mu 
 latto face, of proportionate dimensions, was thrust 
 from a window, and as quickly withdrawn, but not 
 till the beholders had had a full view of massive 
 gold ear-pendants and necklace. 
 
 In a few moments, the portly dame, arrayed in 
 a flowing robe of fine white linen, richly embroid 
 ered, and trimmed with lace, stepped upon the 
 gallery. Count Von Miiller was not in the house, 
 and a rabble of naked, black children, who ran 
 across the gallery, were bid to seek him. As 
 they stood gazing at the splendid quitrin, the 
 portly negress enforced her words with a stamp 
 and a slap or two, and drove them before her like 
 a flock of geese, or, rather, black swans. They 
 dived, jumped from the gallery, scampered through 
 the hall, and fled in every direction ; but no sooner 
 had the ladies alighted and seated themselves in 
 the cool and comfortable boutacles, than they saw 
 woolly little heads peeping in at doors and windows.
 
 142 
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 The portly mulatto sauntered out into the gal 
 lery to enforce her authority, and this time the 
 warning finger was accompanied by a threat which 
 sent the naked little blackies scampering over 
 the coffee-driers, as if to seek some place of 
 safety. 
 
 " Count von Miiller rules five hundred slaves, 
 and Mariana rules Count von Miiller," said the 
 Marquesa, by way of explanation, during the ab 
 sence of that potentate. 
 
 " Has he no family? " 
 
 " Yes, if you can call half a dozen of these little 
 yellow things a family. His lawful children are in 
 Europe for their education, for his wife died before 
 he came here, and he came to make money for 
 them. But I doubt if he ever returns, for he has 
 become quite a Creole in his domestic habits, and 
 prides himself upon his model plantation." 
 
 Shocked as Helen was by what these habits 
 appeared to be, she was glad to hear of a model 
 plantation, and pleased herself with the hope that 
 a man born outside of slavery institutions might 
 have better conceptions of humanity than even an 
 honorable Spaniard had risen to. 
 
 The return of the mistress of ceremonies, fol 
 lowed by servants bearing golden panetala (the 
 very ideal of sponge cake) and oranges, already 
 divested of their yellow skins, cut short farther 
 conversation between the friends. 
 
 In a few moments the Count von Muller
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 143 
 
 appeared, a stocky, dumpy German, with bald head 
 and blue eyes. 
 
 The Marquesa was a great favorite of his, be 
 cause she admired his plantation, and was in the 
 habit of bringing her guests to see his improve 
 ments. 
 
 The main building ran all round a quadrangle, 
 and they immediately began their walk through it, 
 as there was much to be seen which Isabella 
 justly thought would be pleasing to Helen, and 
 which she unfortunately could not exhibit at home, 
 for Spaniards follow in the beaten track, and even 
 her own household ameliorations had broken in 
 upon time-honored customs. 
 
 Adjoining the mansion was a large, latticed hall 
 surrounded by a balustrade, and the ends of the 
 gallery that ran on two sides of it were secured by 
 wicker gates. In this hall stood innumerable bas 
 kets, fitted with clean cloths, on which reposed the 
 future coffee-pickers of the plantation, and naked 
 children of all ages above these babies were trot 
 ting about under the care of two nicely dressed 
 negro women, who patted the babies kindly, and 
 fed them out of civilized bowls. Next to this hall, 
 which the Count facetiously called the crying-room, 
 and where a good deal of that sort of music was 
 going on, as is the case even in nice nurseries, was 
 the picking-room, a long corridor with glass win 
 dows on each- side, an almost unheard-of luxury on 
 Spanish plantations, even in the apartments of the
 
 144 
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 family. Down the centre of this corridor ran the 
 plank tables, with benches on either side, for the 
 sorters of coffee. This work is usually done in 
 the open air, but the negroes suffer much from 
 the heavy dews of the island in their early morn 
 ing labors. Then came the packing-room, in which 
 innumerable empty bags were stored, this not 
 being the packing season. 
 
 Farther on, and nearer to the family mansion, on 
 the other side, was the hospital, with numerous 
 appliances for the comfort of the sick. There 
 were many patients in this hospital, and it was fre 
 quently suggested by the Count s friends that if all 
 his plantation arrangements compared well with 
 the hospital, there must be less occasion than in 
 ordinary cases for feigning sickness. Helen was 
 glad to see coarse straw hats on both men and 
 women ; the Marquis negroes working bare 
 headed. 
 
 When the ladies ascended the extensive driers 
 that lay beyond the mansion, they had a fair view 
 of the neat habitations and gardens of the " peo 
 ple." 
 
 It was plain that the Count pursued a different 
 policy from the ordinary one of the colonies in re 
 gard to his negroes. Yet his wealth was the envy 
 of all. 
 
 As the party turned towards the house again, 
 they passed the ample stables. Planters pride 
 themselves upon the number and beauty of their
 
 THE DRIVE. !45 
 
 horses, and no one surpassed Count von Muller 
 in the possession of fine animals of the noblest 
 breeds. 
 
 Helen was a horsewoman, and knew how to 
 appreciate this taste. But, as she turned the cor 
 ner, a scene characteristic of slave institutions, 
 even under the mildest regulation, burst upon 
 her. 
 
 A group of colored men and women were stand 
 ing under a tree, to which was chained an infuri 
 ated blood-hound, from whose sides blood streamed 
 upon the ground. Two negroes, also attached to 
 a post, at a little distance from the dog, by long 
 ropes, stood bleeding and apparently exhausted ; 
 one held a whip, which was stained with the ani 
 mal s blood, and which he had just lifted to inflict 
 another blow, when the overseer, seeing the com 
 pany, arrested his arm. But he could not prevent 
 the blood-hound from springing and gnashing his 
 teeth at the negroes who were within reach of him, 
 and who had evidently been tormenting him. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, ladies," said the Count, 
 " but you know, my lady," he said, apologetically 
 addressing la Marquesa, " the white man is never 
 bitten on my plantation. This training must be 
 attended to." 
 
 The whole truth dawned upon Helen in a mo 
 ment. The next, she fell heavily upon Isabella s 
 arm, and slid to the ground in happy unconscious 
 ness. It required little of the German s supera-
 
 146 THE DRIVE. 
 
 bundant strength to lift her from the ground and 
 carry her in his arms to the house, where he laid 
 her upon a couch. 
 
 Isabella, scarcely more able to walk than Helen, 
 sank into a chair and covered her face with her 
 hands. 
 
 Mariana and other women brought water and 
 wine, and did their best to restore the horrified 
 visitors. Soon the room was partially filled with 
 curious lookers-on, of all ages and complexions, 
 but a furious stamp of the Count s foot and a 
 threatening gesture of his uplifted hand cleared 
 the space of intruders at once. 
 
 Isabella had never beheld this revolting sight 
 before, though she well knew the mode of training 
 the blood-hound to his work. As soon as Helen 
 opened her eyes, her friend begged the Count to 
 place her in the carriage, for she dreaded the repe 
 tition of the faintness, or the burning word that 
 might burst from Helen. 
 
 " Your friend is a stranger, I see, my lady. I 
 regret this accident very much," were his parting 
 words, to which Isabella made a faint reply. She 
 felt that she had no right to reproach him. 
 
 The fresh air and the motion soon restored 
 Helen to full consciousness, and when they had 
 driven from the door she was relieved by a violent 
 fit of weeping, in which Isabella joined her. 
 
 It was long before either spoke. At last the 
 Marquesa broke silence.
 
 THE DRIVE. 
 
 147 
 
 " Ah, dear Helen ! what can you think of us ? I 
 hoped to give you a pleasant picture to counter 
 balance your sad introduction to Cuban life and 
 this most shocking of all the horrors of slavery," 
 and Isabella wept again convulsively. 
 
 Helen could not raise her eyes during the ride 
 home. She did not wish to see the skies, so dese 
 crated by the earth, over which they hung so 
 lovingly in their twilight beauty. Isabella tried to 
 persuade her to look at their surpassing colors, 
 " for, as I often remind you," she continued, " it is 
 God s world still." But Cuban skies, palm-trees, 
 bamboo, and all tropical glories, were inevitably 
 associated henceforth in Helen s mind with the 
 unutterable woes of humanity, such as they must 
 be where the first principle of brotherhood is 
 violated. 
 
 The words of the great preacher rang in her 
 ears " The sum of all villanies." 
 
 When they arrived at La Consolacion, she 
 begged the Marquesa to excuse her to the family, 
 and went at once to her own room. 
 
 The Marchioness had admired Count von 
 Miiller for his benevolence, with apparent justice. 
 But how can benevolence comport with the fact 
 that a man brought up in free society goes to a 
 slave-holding country for the purpose of making 
 money at such a cost ? The Count s policy, as we 
 have said, was to take care of his people s health, 
 for he thought that paid better in the end, and his
 
 1 48 THE DRIVE. 
 
 benevolence to white men induced him to have 
 his dogs well trained so that they need not fall 
 upon any one but a fugitive ; but the rules of his 
 plantation were very rigid, the work he exacted 
 very severe, the punishments for delinquency very 
 terrible when they came. With true Anglo-Saxon 
 sagacity, he saw that slackness of government 
 produced slackness of service in the gentle race he 
 domineered over. If he had tried the plan of 
 giving them some interest in their labors, he 
 might have struck something out of human souls, 
 which hold all germs of motives, that would have 
 made them labor with a will and serve his interests 
 too, but he had not made that innovation with the 
 rest, and even comfortable hospitals and picking 
 rooms did not preclude the necessity of using force 
 to extract the amount of labor he required. There 
 is no North Star to a Cuban slave, but there are 
 mountain fastnesses where they can hide and 
 even intrench themselves. He boasted that he 
 never punished the same individual twice, but 
 what did that imply ? The blue eyes could look 
 soft and amiable upon an admiring friend, but 
 they were pitiless when they looked upon the 
 chattel whose blood and sinew he would transmute 
 into gold. 
 
 Blood-hound training, it may be said, to the 
 credit of most masters, is not usually clone upon 
 the plantations, but the cruelty is only once re 
 moved by being perpetrated elsewhere. It
 
 SHE DRIVE. 
 
 149 
 
 belongs to the institution of slavery, and no 
 sophistry can evade the imputation, whether 
 such dogs are trained by the overseers in Cuba, 
 or by professional negro-hunters in the United 
 States.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 JUANITA. 
 
 ONE day when they were alone, Helen begged 
 her friend to tell her the history of Juanita, who 
 interested her deeply by her sadness and her 
 beauty. The whirl of events had prevented her 
 from coming much in contact with her, but she 
 often saw her bendirg over her work, in the Mar 
 chioness apartment, or occupied about the little 
 children in the nursery, and she saw Ludovico 
 apply to her as to a sister to supply his little 
 wants. 
 
 "Juanita is so different from the rest of the 
 people, I do not wonder you ask," said the Mar 
 chioness. 
 
 " You do not mean that she is a slave, Isabel," 
 exclaimed Helen, almost gasping. 
 
 "Yes, dear Helen, it is even so," said the 
 Marchioness, rising to close the door into her 
 apartment, which Juanita at that moment entered. 
 
 "Juanita is a Moor," she continued ; "you per 
 ceive her straight hair and her beautifully chiselled 
 features. Her grandmother was purchased by 
 my father-in-law in a cofrle of slaves, of which she 
 
 150
 
 JU ANITA. i$i 
 
 was the only Moor. They are not often enslaved. 
 They have little resemblance to other negroes ; 
 indeed they are not negroes. Juanita s mother was 
 the daughter of a white man, and that bleached 
 her complexion. Juanita s has been still farther 
 changed by a similar parentage." 
 
 " Horrible ! " exclaimed Helen. 
 
 " Ah, yes, dear, the fate of such beautiful girls 
 is sad indeed, but not so in their eyes. They 
 would no more take a negro for husband than you 
 or I would, but have a pride in such connections 
 as they form, that seems incredible to us, and yet 
 I do not know why I should say so. They see 
 that white men are superior in civilization ; they 
 learn to be ashamed of their African origin, which 
 they often deny. Civilized life is so above their 
 own degraded condition, that it is not strange that 
 they wish to ally themselves with it. My father- 
 in-law gave the mother and child to me when I 
 was married. The boy was as beautiful as Juanita, 
 but we were obliged to send him away, for his 
 independent spirit brooked no control." 
 
 " What has become of him ? " inquired Helen. 
 
 " I presume he is in the city, but I have not 
 heard of him of late. He was named Juan de la 
 Luz (John of the Light.) He was my father-in- 
 law s special pet and attendant. He was full of 
 ability ; was a good locksmith, kept all the ma 
 chinery in order, and contrived, no one knew how, 
 to learn to read. Probably through this, or possi-
 
 I5 2 JU ANITA. 
 
 bly in the city, where he often accompanied my 
 father-in-law, he learned of the English treaty by 
 which all slaves brought to the island after a cer 
 tain date were truly free. This he communi 
 cated to his mother, and Juanita undoubtedly 
 knows it. If all who are free by that treaty knew 
 it, we might be overpowered by their combined 
 action ; but the whole community is so ignorant, 
 the standing army so numerous and strong, the 
 government so despotic, that it is, to all intents 
 and purposes, null and void. The Captain-Gen 
 eral has his royalty upon every slave s head, and 
 he is too powerful to be thwarted. The English 
 commissioner, who resides in Havana, told me 
 himself that his office was a sinecure, and always 
 would be while the Captain-General chose to con 
 nive at slavery." 
 
 " What corruption ! " was all Helen could ejacu 
 late. 
 
 " Yes ; there is no such thing as fathoming it. 
 He told me that, if he confiscated a vessel and 
 threw the captain in prison, in a few weeks the 
 surgeon of the prison would report him ill, and 
 request a permit from the Captain-General to send 
 him into the country for his health. Soon after, 
 he might meet him in the streets of Havana, par 
 doned, and ready to sail on the same errand again, 
 in a new vessel. Usually, the landings are made on 
 unfrequented parts of the coast, but the coffles 
 are openly marched through the country, and the
 
 JU ANITA. ^ 
 
 planters purchase many on the way. The rest 
 find their way to the city, or, rather, they are 
 smuggled there under false pretences, and are 
 thrown into the slave-pens, where old slaves are 
 constantly exposed for sale. These pens used to 
 be within the walls of the city, but they are now 
 outside." 
 
 Helen shuddered at the recollection of all she 
 knew on that fearful subject, and would fain have 
 asked her friend if she knew no other family in 
 Havana to whose kindness she could have com 
 mended her on her arrival ; but she forbore, and 
 only asked : 
 
 ""Where is Juanita s mother ? " 
 
 " She pined away and died of a broken heart 
 after the sale of her son, for the separation was 
 necessarily a final one. Every means had been 
 taken to break Juan s proud spirit ; but he was 
 vain he loved dress, and lavished upon his 
 handsome person the money guests lavished upon 
 him. He looked like a prince in my husband s 
 splendid livery. He bought fine shirts, rings for 
 his fingers and trinkets for his ears, and put on 
 such airs that he was unendurable. He was 
 proud of his nationality, and his mother cherished 
 all these feelings in him. Wherever Juan goes, he 
 will make trouble with the slaves, and the worst 
 fate awaits him if he does not get to the moun 
 tains. I do not know but he might become a 
 chief among the fugitives there. They often
 
 1 54 JUANITA. 
 
 come down upon the plantations at the foot of 
 the mountains, and help themselves to whatever 
 they wish for." 
 
 " So there is no defence against them, on the 
 plantations ? " inquired Helen. " I should think 
 they would be very dangerous." 
 
 "There is no defence but the blood-hound and 
 guards, that take care of the plantations at night, 
 and the guards themselves are slaves. They are 
 a timid race, and a few resolute persons can in 
 timidate them. They will make an alarm if any 
 one comes to steal the horses, but they would be 
 afraid to oppose these marauders, who bring their 
 own dogs, and spread terror wherever they ap 
 pear." 
 
 Helen breathed more freely. She was glad 
 God had made mountains. 
 
 " How can you make a distinction between 
 Juanita and the other slaves ? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, that has taken care of itself. Her mother 
 was my mother-in-law s maid, and always lived 
 near her person, as such girls do, and was accom 
 plished in every pretty and useful art. In almost 
 every family you will see one of these girls at 
 tached to each child, but it is a source of great 
 corruption. I have known of unmentionable evils 
 growing out of it. My children have had no pets 
 or servants of that kind but Juanita, who is thus 
 far, I am sure, as good and pure as any of us. 
 She was a happy, merry little thing, till her
 
 JUANITA. T ^5 
 
 brother was sent away and her mother died. She 
 always learned everything Ludovico learned, as 
 she peeped over his shoulder at whatever he was 
 doing ; and very early she showed a wonderful 
 genius for painting. I say genius, for the word 
 talent does not describe it. She drew beautifully, 
 and when I gave her colors she was like one en 
 tranced. You will find the night-blooming cereus, 
 our gigantic ceyba tree, and, indeed, all the 
 peculiar tropical plants, in her portfolios. The 
 walls, as I have told you, are ornamented by her 
 brush. She copies from nature with her needle, 
 as well as her pencil. She has always slept in her 
 mother s room, adjoining mine, and you will find 
 every inch of it covered with her productions. 
 She has always heard me read to Ludovico, 
 indeed, she is scarcely less well informed than 
 he is. 
 
 " Perhaps I have done wrong to bring her up 
 so ; for, if I should die, her fate might be very sad. 
 But I am sure Ludovico would protect her even 
 from himself, and so would my husband as far as 
 he could." 
 
 " She ought to have her freedom," Helen ven 
 tured to say. 
 
 " Yes, and she shall have it. My father would 
 never free them, though they often begged him to 
 do it, but my husband has promised to do it. It 
 would make but little difference in her happiness, 
 except perhaps in her imagination."
 
 156 JU ANITA. 
 
 "And that is everything," exclaimed Helen. 
 " She would tell you differently if she dared, I 
 think." 
 
 " Perhaps so, but I have never asked her. 
 While her mother lived and Juan was here, she 
 seemed happy. She is not so now, I know. She 
 would be far better off to die, too, for there is no 
 career for freed women but what you and I should 
 call infamy." 
 
 " They would at least own themselves. Do not 
 the other slaves in the house envy her position ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed ! and Camilla began to exer 
 cise dominion over her as soon as she was old 
 enough to help her ; but I put a stop to that at 
 once, and she only torments her as she does me 
 and every one else." 
 
 " Why do you keep Camilla in your house 
 hold ? " 
 
 " Because she knows how to do everything, and 
 I cannot keep house without her. That she 
 knows this, is my misfortune. She has a true 
 genius for organization, and is accomplished in 
 every household art. She has her corps of 
 sweepers, house-washers, dish-washers, laundry- 
 women, errand-boys. She is the queen of pastry 
 cooks. In that little pantry from which you see 
 her emerge, she performs miracles of that sort. 
 It is a small place, but everything in it is kept in 
 neat order, and out of it come the rarest viands, 
 cakes, custards, tarts, sweetmeats, candied fruits,
 
 JUANITA. ^7 
 
 and all the devices of French and Spanish cook 
 ing. She can always judge of the quantity of 
 food to be provided for any occasion, and has her 
 reserved forces for an emergency saves all her 
 nice scraps for the hospital, and never is so com 
 pletely in her element as when there is too much 
 to do. We all have our greatest immunity at such 
 times. It is in the long leisure days, when the 
 country is deserted, that we surfer most. Her 
 activity has then no other objects on which to 
 expend itself. I see her now prowling. This 
 long talk, of which she knows herself to be the 
 subject, makes her uneasy. I will send her away 
 on some errand. Camilla," she continued, as the 
 old woman approached, " go and inquire for the 
 new baby ; perhaps you can bring it over for us 
 to see." 
 
 "Yes my lady yes new baby" laughs 
 to herself "very pretty, very pretty," and she 
 slowly descended the steps. 
 
 " She does not wish to go. She suspects that 
 it is only to get rid of her that I send her." 
 
 " What a life of slavery it is for you ! " ex 
 claimed Helen. 
 
 " Yes, it is for all planters \vives except those 
 who leave everything in the hands of the over 
 seer; but that involves much unjust treatment, and 
 often cruelty. If you were to see my life in the 
 season of sewing-work, you would not call this 
 slavery. For three solid months I cut out and
 
 l$S JU ANITA. 
 
 superintend the making of these people s clothes. 
 The women sew on the gallery, under my super 
 vision. If left to themselves, the work would 
 occupy the whole year." 
 
 " Cannot Mrs. Warwick relieve you of this 
 care ? " 
 
 " I tried it, but they will obey no one but me. 
 They know the overseer stands at my right hand, 
 if necessary, and they are afraid of him though 
 not of me, but my personal superintendence pre 
 cludes the necessity of his services except on rare 
 occasions." 
 
 " I understand you," said Helen. " Other 
 women do not always stand between them and 
 punishment, I fear." 
 
 " Many do. But it is more economical to have 
 the work done as quickly as possible, that the 
 women may be ready for other uses. The field 
 hands always come in to share the work, and 
 that gives me an opportunity of contact with 
 them all." 
 
 "The voice of kindness must be a balm to their 
 souls for three whole months," said Helen. 
 
 Camilla now appeared with a pretty baby, 
 wrapped in her shawl, which she laid on the Mar 
 chioness" lap. 
 
 " Oh, take it up and wrap it up again it will 
 have the lock-jaw. Why did you not bring it in a 
 cloth ? " 
 
 "Lock-jaw in the sunshine? no, lady lock-jaw
 
 JU ANITA. 
 
 in the dew morning evening no lock-jaw in 
 the sunshine ! " 
 
 " I believe she is right," said the Marchioness. 
 
 " Is lock-jaw common here ?" asked Helen. 
 
 " Very common, and in that way mothers dis 
 pose of many children, if they are not watched." 
 
 " Isabel ! I cannot believe it and yet why 
 not ? It must be to save them from a worse fate." 
 
 " Undoubtedly. When I first learned the fact, 
 I could not believe it. It seemed to me too un 
 natural. Even animals passionately love their 
 young when first born. When I was convinced of 
 it, I resolved to be present at every birth. My 
 husband laughed at me, and said it would make 
 no difference ; that at any time within three weeks 
 the mothers could effect the object by laying the 
 naked child out in the heavy dew for a few 
 moments. Planters resort to every sort of pun 
 ishment to save life, though not for humanity s 
 sake. My husband promised a reward to every 
 woman whose child lives, but nothing broke up 
 their habit of putting an end to them till he had 
 a wooden babe bound to their backs, and turned 
 them out to work with it for six months. Since 
 that time the practice has been checked. Slaves 
 live so short a time that their lives are very valu 
 able after they come to working age, and it is 
 cheaper to rear them on the plantations than to 
 purchase them." 
 
 "But, Isabella, how can you bear it? \Vhy do
 
 160 JUAKITA. 
 
 you not persuade your husband to leave such a 
 country ? " 
 
 " Ah, dear Helen, you do not know what a 
 Spaniard is, when you ask that question. We are 
 not very wealthy, and where would be our means 
 to do it ? I have the kindest, the most devoted 
 of husbands. I know he is virtuous, and I must 
 be satisfied with that. Every reasonable wish I 
 have is gratified, many wishes are anticipated, 
 but he would be out of place elsewhere, unless he 
 could take with him all the means of luxury he 
 enjoys here. We may be called rich here else 
 where we should really be poor." 
 
 " I fear it is hopeless, indeed," said Helen, " but 
 I must thank God that I am under no such neces 
 sity." 
 
 Camilla wrapped the babe in her shawl again, 
 meanwhile, and carried it away, muttering, " No 
 lock-jaw in the sunshine ! dew in the morning, 
 evening ! God takes the babies, poor little ones ! " 
 
 " That is what they always say," said the Mar 
 chioness, " God takes the babies/ and I as 
 sure you I never mourn for them. Camilla says 
 that, wherever they are buried, their bodies go 
 home to the old country. This is said to be an 
 African superstition, and there must be consola 
 tion in it." 
 
 " Perhaps they believe in the worship of their 
 ancestors, like the Eastern nations in general," 
 said Helen.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CAMILLA. 
 
 ONE morning, Helen, whose northern habits 
 made her an early riser, came out of her apart 
 ment a little after dawn to enjoy the pure, dewy 
 breath of Nature on the open piazza.. Several 
 rows of bed-chambers skirted the salon at either 
 end, all opening on one or the other piazza. 
 Helen had never ventured abroad alone again, 
 and had returned so late from the evening balls 
 during the holidays that her usual morning 
 habits had been much broken in upon. She now 
 approached the salon, where she encountered 
 Camilla and her satellites making ready for the 
 day. It was one of the scenes of Camilla s daily 
 enjoyment, because it was an occasion of exercis 
 ing power, and the appearance of Helen added 
 zest to her display. 
 
 "Jose, come quick! Wash this floor the very 
 quickest ! Jose, pour a tub of water over it ! " 
 
 Enter Francisca with another tub of water on 
 her head, which she too pours over the floor. 
 
 "Quick, Fisca, quick! here is the lady! yes, 
 there she is! wants to sit down! all water! 
 don t drown the lady ! " 
 
 161
 
 1 62 CAMILLA. 
 
 Enter Solidad with another tub of water. 
 Helen turns back. 
 
 " Ay, here s Solidad, too more water ! Ave, 
 sanctissima ! Spiders, lady! ants, lady! much 
 dust ! Where s Maria ? Where are the cloths ? 
 Lady cannot sit, must walk. No, no more water! 
 No, Jose" ! did you not hear ? I said no more 
 water ! Canailla, don t you see the lady ? She ll 
 be tired walking." 
 
 " I do not wish to sit down," said Helen. " I 
 prefer to walk," and she sauntered down the 
 piazza. But, when she came round, Camilla was 
 ready for her. 
 
 " Ay, yes, lady ! not been sleeping ? French 
 ladies walk no dogs on the piazza, lady." 
 (Laughs mysteriously, then suddenly drops her 
 head on her shoulder.) " Poor Carlo ! poor 
 Jacobo ! poor Maraquita ! How do you feel this 
 morning, lady ? Are you well ? Very glad, very 
 glad ! Dance much ? Not at all ! Ay de mi ! 
 not dance ! " (Runs in for a chair.) " Here, 
 lady, here s a chair." (Dusts it with her shawl.) 
 
 " I prefer to walk, thank you," said Helen. 
 
 " Walk ? Ay, French ladies walk. Poor Carlo ! 
 poor Jacobo ! " 
 
 " How are they ? " Helen ventured to inquire. 
 
 Camilla stopped, looked mysteriously, put her 
 ringer on her lips, then whispered, " Bad ; very 
 bad ! " 
 
 At this moment a boy came up the steps with
 
 CAMILLA. 
 
 163 
 
 a tub of water for the piazza.. Camilla arrested 
 him. " Bad boy ! Canailla ! See the lady ? No 
 water here ! " (Strikes him with her broom.) 
 
 " I will walk round the other side," said Helen. 
 
 " Oh, ay, thanks, lady, thanks ! ready soon, 
 ready soon. Here comes Josefa with the cloths. 
 Where have you been ? sleeping ? eating ? Take 
 that ! " (Strikes Josefa with her broom, and 
 snatches the cloths from her.) 
 
 " Go in now and wipe the floor ; lady walking 
 wants to sit. Sun is up. Lazy people ! Where s 
 Cecilia ? feeding pigs ? hunting hens ? Tell her 
 to come and wipe the floor quick as possible," and 
 Camilla continued to fly round among her subor 
 dinates, beating one with her broom, pushing an 
 other into the water, snatching the cloths away 
 and throwing them about, when suddenly she 
 heard the voice of her master, who opened his 
 door and called out, " Coffee ! " 
 
 " Yes, senor ; yes, indeed. Ave, sanctissima ! 
 master wants his coffee ! Yes, senor ; yes, senor. 
 Master calls wants his coffee going to ride 
 good master, takes care of the people. Canailla ! 
 not worth it ! Cecilia, wipe the floor ! What are 
 you standing there for ? I can t do everything. 
 Master in haste wants his coffee going to 
 ride." 
 
 The Marquis again opens his door, and says 
 "Coffee!" 
 
 " Yes, senor, yes, yes ! "
 
 CAMILLA. 
 
 Disappears into her pantry, and soon emerges 
 with the coffee, which she carries to the door, 
 wading through the water. 
 
 " Canailla, wipe the floor. See my wet feet ! 
 Now for the toothache ! " 
 
 Manuel comes out of the nursery, and wades 
 through the water. 
 
 " Ave, sanctissima ! see the nino! Shoes all 
 wet ! Where s nurse ? sleeping ? " 
 
 " I want some oranges. I am going to ride 
 with papa," exclaimed Manuel. "What do you 
 have it so wet here for, you silly old woman ? " 
 
 Enter Mrs. Warwick. 
 
 " Manuel ! Manuel ! come to me ! Don t walk 
 in that water ! Now, I must change your shoes ! 
 How could you ! " 
 
 " How could I help it ? That silly old woman 
 always floods the piazza, just so. She is a great 
 fool!" 
 
 He sees Helen passing by, and looks a little 
 ashamed of his cross tones. 
 
 Helen held out her hand to him. " I would not 
 call people fools, dear." 
 
 "People!" repeated Manuel, as he walked on 
 with her. "Is Camilla a people? " 
 
 " Just as much as you are, I think. You would 
 not like to be called a fool." 
 
 " No, indeed ; but I never thought Camilla was 
 like us. But then she is, only she has a black 
 face, and is a stupid I won t again. But see
 
 CAMILLA. 
 
 I6 5 
 
 how they wet everything. I never can get out 
 when I get up early in the morning to ride with 
 papa without getting my feet wet. I used to ride 
 with Carlo," and here Manuel s heart stopped 
 him. He could only say " Poor Carlo ! " and his 
 lips quivered. 
 
 "Nino Manuel, where are you? Here are the 
 oranges. Oranges, lady ? " offering some to 
 Helen. 
 
 Mrs. Warwick brought out a chair for Helen, 
 who sat down and partook of the cool, sweet fruit, 
 so different from oranges in the States. 
 
 "These people are so stupid!" said Mrs. War 
 wick. " Do look out the window, ma am, and see 
 those wenches drawing those cloths across the 
 floor like so many pocket-handkerchiefs. That s 
 the way they do things here. I tried to teach 
 them how to wring them into the tubs, but it is 
 no use. They never saw a mop, which might be 
 such a saving to their backs ; and they don t know 
 when they have got enough water on. I believe 
 that old woman calls for more and more tubs full, 
 just to plague them and keep them at it two hours 
 every morning, when it might all be done just as 
 well in one ; but it only makes matters worse 
 when I meddle, so I say nothing ; but my back 
 often aches for those poor gals she totes round. 
 I often wish I was out of it. I know that " 
 
 " What would the Marchioness do without 
 you?" Helen replied, soothingly.
 
 j65 CAMILLA. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know it ; that s the reason I stay. 
 I would not see these children in their hands, 
 for any money." 
 
 Camilla could not bear this any longer. She 
 had been bustling in and out with oranges and 
 golden panetela, and now she appeared with 
 Jose behind her, carrying a tub of water for that 
 gallery. 
 
 " Pardon, lady ! much pardon ! Other piazza. 
 ready now. Time to wash spiders, ants, much 
 dust ! " Takes up Helen s chair, and runs round 
 the house with it. 
 
 " Mumma Camilla, that s my chair ! " calls out 
 Mrs. Warwick. But Camilla does not heed, and 
 disappears round the corner with it. 
 
 " Plague on her ! I shall not get hold of that 
 chair again for a week. Oh, she is a trial ! " 
 
 Helen follows the chair, after bidding Mrs. 
 Warwick a kindly good-morning. 
 
 " Oh, you must see me mount my pony, Aunt 
 Helen ! " said Manuel, seizing her by the hand. 
 " She is such a pretty little horse ! Won t you 
 ride with me some day ? You can take mama s 
 horse." 
 
 "I should like to very much." 
 
 Jose had waited respectfully till Miss Went- 
 worth moved away, but Camilla hailed him from 
 afar. 
 
 " Boy ! lazy dog ! put the water on ! " 
 
 " Always scolding ! " muttered Jose.
 
 CAMILLA. 
 
 167 
 
 " What did you say ? Take that, Canailla ! " 
 rapping him with her broom, and at the same time 
 knocking the tub of water off his head, wetting 
 him from top to toe. " Good enough for such ! 
 Work away now ; soon the gentlemen will come 
 out, and all wet and soppy. Cecilia ! Maria ! 
 Josefa ! bring your cloths ; go to work. What 
 are you good for ? " 
 
 Mrs. Warwick appears at the door of her room, 
 and, in a deprecating tone, remonstrates in broken 
 Spanish against quite so much noise while the 
 children are sleeping. Having given the hint, 
 she closes her door again without waiting for a 
 reply. 
 
 " Old Americana, keep in your own basket ! 
 Don t talk to me ! " But nevertheless there is a 
 lull in the confusion for a few moments ; for the 
 Marquis opens his door, and inquires for the 
 horses. 
 
 "Less noise here, people! your lady is sleeping! 
 Where are the horses ? Jose, go for the horses ! 
 Have they been forgotten ? I am in haste." 
 
 Jose runs down the steps. 
 
 "Ay de mi! The senor waiting! Urbano 
 not coming! bad people! Canailla! no horses 
 for the senor and the niiio ! Ave, sanctissima! " 
 
 " You confuse every one with your noise and 
 your tubs of water in the morning," said the Mar 
 quis. " What is the need of making the floor so 
 wet ? It is not necessary."
 
 1 68 
 
 CAMILLA. 
 
 Camilla began to excuse herself. "Jose, Pablo 
 two fools ! put on too much water ! " 
 
 " It is no one s fault but yours, and don t do it 
 again," replied the Marquis, as he walked out 
 upon the gallery. 
 
 Camilla made no reply, but stood motionless, 
 her long, orang-outang arms hanging limp at 
 her sides, and her eyelids cast down, until he was 
 fairly out of sight, when she disappeared into her 
 pantry, leaving the women giggling to themselves 
 at her expense, and Jose s mouth stretched from 
 ear to ear. 
 
 But the next morning, salon and galleries were 
 wholly unwashed, and great was the annoyance of 
 ants, spiders, and dust all day. There was no 
 time to ask explanations, and only Helen and 
 Mrs. Warwick could account for the neglect. 
 
 So Camilla had her way, and after that the 
 flooding went on as usual, with perhaps a little 
 less screaming and bustle ; for Camilla did care 
 for being found fault with by her master.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 THE chicken-house was a long cabin built of 
 bamboo sticks, like the habitations of the negroes. 
 It stood on the edge of a little pool of water, 
 tinged deep red by the colored earth of the island, 
 and had in former days been a home for turkeys 
 and other fowl, whence its name. It was now 
 used as a sort of nursery for the children of the 
 plantation, where a superannuated negress took 
 charge of the little ones, while the mothers were 
 absent in the field. At nightfall they were again 
 given in charge to their mothers. 
 
 Old Panchita, " the brooding hen," as she was 
 called, was a woman of experience. She was one 
 of the oldest inhabitants of the plantation, and in 
 her youth had been a favorite house-servant and 
 nurse, being both capable and amiable ; but when 
 no longer wanted to take care of her master s chil 
 dren, she had been installed as a nurse over the 
 children of the slave mothers. A natural love of 
 the young fitted her for this office, but it was a 
 trying one, and mumma Panchita s patience was a 
 little threadbare, and was not always proof against 
 
 169
 
 I/O 
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 these trials. It was quite as much of a task as she 
 was equal to to administer food to the babes, who 
 were deposited in small wooden boxes about the 
 edges of the building, and who lay pretty content 
 edly upon their backs if they were not hungry or 
 bitten by mosquitoes and neguas, that infest the 
 human foot in tropical climates. A good mother 
 can easily judge how often these contented inter 
 vals occurred among forty or fifty babies under 
 the circumstances of a mud floor and a neigh 
 boring laguna, and one old woman as feeder, be 
 sides having to spank into submission those who 
 were old enough to crawl in and out of the cabin, 
 or to pick them out of the laguna, into which some 
 of them were always tumbling, and to threaten the 
 still older ones with the lash of the overseer, 
 which came quite often enough, under Don Er- 
 mite s reign, to make the threat overpowering 
 not that mumma Panchita ever invoked it no ! 
 poor soul ! She had given birth to and lost too 
 many children of her own to do that. Some had 
 been sold, others had died of hard work. She did 
 not know where the living ones were. She often 
 thanked God for having taken the others. Great 
 vicissitudes had mumma Panchita seen. Once a 
 petted servant, living amidst family comforts, then 
 cast out into the negro quarters to take care of 
 too many children, whom she must see suffer 
 under her eyes, and she tender-hearted ! Every 
 woman who expected to bring a child into the
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 171 
 
 world wanted her, because she was skilful and 
 kind. At night, when the mothers took their 
 children to their own cabin, she visited the sick 
 who had sent for her, and shared their lamenta 
 tions when they found themselves the mothers of 
 daughters, and was not sorry when God took them 
 by the lock-jaw. He would have taken them 
 oftener, if the mothers had dared to let him do it ! 
 but a too frequent repetition of this permission was 
 dangerous. 
 
 This habit of slave-mothers, which has often 
 been adduced as a proof of innate depravity and 
 barbarism, looks far otherwise to the philosophic 
 mind. Enforced motherhood, which is the rule in 
 slavery, has none of the holy sanctions thrown 
 around it by human love, and yet so strong is the 
 maternal feeling that when these children are old 
 enough for natural interchange of sympathy and 
 affection with their parents, in short, when they 
 have become persons, the bond is a very tender 
 one, and the poor slave-mothers hearts are wrung 
 with as bitter anguish at the sufferings of their 
 children, or their separation from them, as those of 
 happy mothers. The attachment of these people 
 to the children of their masters, whom they nurse 
 and fondle, shows the strength of the natural sen 
 timent. It cannot be, then, that the slave-mother 
 lets God take her child when it first sees the 
 light, because the maternal feeling is not awakened 
 with its new life, but because she dreads for it
 
 172 
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 such a wretched existence as her own. Driven to 
 her work as long as she can stand, before the birth, 
 unbefriended in the hour of greatest peril and 
 suffering, unaided and unsolaced in the early cares 
 of her travestied maternal life, and so soon de 
 prived even of the privilege of exercising that care, 
 for she is immediately turned back again into the 
 field, and only sees it when too wearied at night 
 to enjoy it, how natural to wish the young crea 
 ture safe in God s keeping for these uncultivated 
 savages really believe in a presiding deity, little as 
 they see any outward testimony of his existence. 
 The phrase they use about these mysterious 
 deaths, so conclusively traced to their own act, 
 proves this faith. 
 
 One of mumma Panchita s chief occupations 
 was picking neguas out of the children s feet, 
 which she did with a sharp thorn and hot grease 
 (a darning-needle and some hot tallow are used in 
 the upper circles for the same purpose, for the 
 inmates of the great house are by no means safe 
 from the invasion of this pest). This operation is 
 not agreeable to the victim, but on its faithful 
 performance depends the fact of having any toes 
 left, and Panchita was partly responsible for the 
 embryo slave having those useful appendages left, 
 or even any feet at all, for, as soon as this little flea 
 is imbedded below the third layer of the skin, it 
 lays a bag of eggs, which incontinently becomes 
 huge, and the progeny, instantly developed, eat
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 173 
 
 their way still farther in, each laying her respec 
 tive sack of eggs. This responsibility Panchita 
 shared with the mothers, whose first duty on tak 
 ing their children to their own cabins at nightfall is 
 to see that the feet are safe, and the " brooding 
 hen " is sure to hear of it if she has not done her 
 work faithfully up to that time. The sounds that 
 issued from the chicken-house made it very easy 
 for any one to find the spot who walked that way. 
 Just as mumma Panchita was performing a boring 
 operation upon a little foot, Camilla made her 
 appearance, and inquired for a little goddaughter 
 of her own, whose services she needed in the ab 
 sence of the members of poor Carlo s family. The 
 little girl in question was one of the oldest chil 
 dren, and quite useful to Panchita, who was not 
 willing to part with her. 
 
 " Ave, Maria sanctissima ! " exclaimed Camilla, 
 " are you killing that poverecita ? poverecita, what 
 a cruel nurse you have ! " 
 
 " Cruel ! what do you mean, you old monkey," 
 said poor Panchita. " I am only saving the poor 
 little foot, which is almost a honeycomb now 
 there, little one ! now lie down and cry yourself to 
 sleep ; and if you cry yourself to death, so much the 
 better." 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Camilla, "poor people ! poor 
 people ! better let God take them ! poor Car 
 lo!" 
 
 " Hush, old fool ! " said Panchita, "it is time for
 
 174 
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 Don Ermite to come don t let him hear you 
 pitying any one." 
 
 She had no sooner uttered the words than Don 
 Ermite rode up to the door, and, with a flourish of 
 his long riding-whip, which never spared old or 
 young, asked, with a Spanish oath, if all the chil 
 dren were there. 
 
 " Yes, master, all," said Panchita. " Come here, 
 children ; here s the master ! " 
 
 Suddenly, like a flock of partridges that had 
 hid in the grass, the children rose up from behind 
 cradle boxes, or* dropped down from the roosts 
 that still remained stretched across the chicken- 
 house, or appeared from the high weeds on the 
 margin of the laguna. 
 
 " What are you all hiding for ? and whom are you 
 afraid of," said the brutal overseer, accompanying 
 his words with another slash of his heavy whip, 
 which made many of the children scream out with 
 pain. 
 
 " Hold your tongues while I count you, or I ll 
 cut deeper," and with these words he made a 
 second application of his lash, which hushed the 
 terrified children into silence. 
 
 After counting the outsiders, Don Ermite de 
 scended from his horse, and entered the cabin to 
 count the babies. Camilla had stepped out of 
 sight, but he now saw her again, and recognized her. 
 
 "What are you here for so early in the morning, 
 old woman ? " he said, in a milder tone, for he was
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 175 
 
 not pleased to see a house-servant there just after 
 he had been in disgrace with the Marquis. 
 
 " I came to find Muerta-Viva, to help me in the 
 pantry, ini alma," she said, humbly, for mumma 
 Camilla was a little frightened. 
 
 "Muerta-Viva? who is that? where are you?" 
 he said, fiercely to the frightened group of chil 
 dren. 
 
 A slender little girl of seven came timidly out 
 of the crowd, and stood before him. She did not 
 look as robust as the other children, and had a 
 limp in her gait. 
 
 "What are you good for?" said the brute, "and 
 where did you get that limp," he added, jerking 
 her by the arm. 
 
 " Fell off the roost ! " was the scarcely audible 
 reply of the little cripple. 
 
 " Go with the old woman, and see if you can do 
 something," he said, a little softened, not- by hu 
 manity, but because he was disturbed at having 
 been caught in his brutal treatment by such an 
 important official. 
 
 Children are leniently treated on decent planta 
 tions. It is important to their future usefulness 
 that they be well fed and propitiated, the latter 
 being done with small coins and confectionery 
 thrown to them. Under the former overseer these 
 children had led a comparatively happy life, as 
 happy as it could be with neguas in their feet and 
 with mumma Panchita s spankings, which were
 
 176 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 frequent though not cruel, but she must train the 
 older ones to help her take care of the little ones, 
 and they did not always mind her the first time 
 she spoke, any more than little white children in 
 nice nurseries mind their nurses or even their 
 mamas ! 
 
 They were allowed to pick up oranges when 
 they could get a run into the orange avenues ; and 
 now they joyfully ran to their respective cabins 
 for the gourds, for Don Ermite s last words were, 
 " See that you water the new borders in the 
 mango avenue before noon, or I ll give you all a 
 lashing ! " 
 
 Perhaps they should see Tom the cook, who 
 often saved broken food for them ; perhaps they 
 should find some plantains ! Don Ermite had 
 gone to the field, and the naked little things 
 swarmed like ants back and forth from the red 
 laguna to the mango avenue by all sorts of cir 
 cuits and winding ways, with the gourds deftly 
 poised on the tops of their heads, on their return 
 taking the great house on their way, scampering 
 up the steps and across the gallery, peeping in at 
 the windows, and watching the proceedings of the 
 household slaves. Plantation manners are very 
 easy in these points of taste, and strangers soon 
 get broken in to the spectacle. 
 
 Mumma Panchita had a long interval of silence, 
 for the care of her babes and other small fry not 
 old enough to be watering-pots. They will be sure
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 177 
 
 to come to their bacallao (salt-fish) when the bell 
 rings at noon, especially as Don Ermite will then 
 come from the field. 
 
 Mumma Panchita had much food for thought 
 when she had time for it. She did not even hear 
 the babies cry when she was thinking of her own 
 lost ones. Her two pretty daughters had been 
 sold for their beauty, to high bidders, to pay a 
 gambling debt, and it was her grief at that event 
 that had made her intolerable in the family, and 
 led to her instalment in her present office. 
 
 " Where are they ? " was her constant cry, and 
 she had grown prematurely old uttering it. 
 
 Muerta-Viva, or Dead-Alive, was an unfortunate 
 little girl, who one day fell from one of the roosts, 
 where she was perched at play, and fractured her 
 hip, which was never rightly cured, and she had 
 been thus made a cripple for life. She was only 
 three years old when the accident happened, and 
 her father and mother had quarrelled and been 
 separated, as is often the case with the slaves, 
 who are bound together by no marriage tie, and 
 are not allowed to live together unless in har 
 mony, for that would not be profitable to the mas 
 ter. The father always took Muerta-Viva at 
 night, and was very tenderly attached to her, so 
 that she enjoyed some advantages over the rest. 
 He bought for her gay trinkets of the pedlers, 
 often took her to ride with him when he watered 
 the horses, for he was a calesero ; and Camilla
 
 !-r8 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 happened to have taken a fancy to her, so that 
 she was often brought into the pantry for useful 
 offices such as beating eggs, running of little 
 errands to Tom the cook, or picking up sticks for 
 Camilla s brazier. 
 
 Muerta-Viva s father and mother had quarrelled 
 for some domestic reason, unknown to the public. 
 Each mother has a cabin assigned to her, in virtue 
 of her being a mother, which cabin is her castle. 
 The father had been turned out, and no objection 
 had been made to his taking the little cripple to 
 his own bosom at night ; for the mother had other 
 children to take care of, and her anger against 
 the father extended to his favorite child. He 
 could keep an eye upon her at all times of the day, 
 as he was a calesero (coachman), and not on duty 
 in the hated field, where neither men nor women 
 owned even their own eyes, or the direction in 
 which they should look. Since the cruel overseer 
 had been on the plantation, Tono had suffered 
 much ; for he knew how brutally the wretch 
 slashed his whip over the children s shoulders, 
 when out of sight of the house, and he had begged 
 hard to send this child to his mother, in Havana, 
 when Carlo went for the American lady. Mrs. 
 Warwick knew his wish, and would have taken 
 kind care of it ; and Tono had procured a nice 
 little dress for her, with some of his chicken- 
 money, and a sewing woman had made it neatly, 
 and, dressed in this gown, and some red shoes and
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 179 
 
 a shawl, he came to prefer his request. But, as 
 Tono was a little pretentious, it was thought best 
 to refuse this very reasonable request ; his quarrel 
 with his wife had also subjected him to punish 
 ment, according to the plantation rule. Masters 
 cannot be disturbed by servants quarrels, and 
 servants hearts are not supposed to be made of 
 the same stuff as masters hearts. A compliance 
 with this request would have appeased the smart 
 ing pride of Tono, who could no longer boast of 
 never having been punished ; but the rule of 
 action is, "Their spirits must be broken." The 
 negro race is wonderfully forgiving, and suscep 
 tible to kindness, and, in this instance, certain 
 little tender relations had been established be 
 tween Muerta-Viva and the children of the family, 
 as she was often allowed to come and assist 
 Camilla ; otherwise, Tono might have been a dan 
 gerous enemy. Helen learned the particulars 
 from Mrs. Warwick, whose room was opposite 
 Camilla s pantry. When the door was open, she 
 could see Muerta-Viva perched on the shelf, 
 where Camilla always kept her when unemployed, 
 for fear she would run away. There her wistful 
 eyes gazed at the children, with whom she was 
 not allowed to play, but who would roll oranges 
 into the pantry for her, and run to mumma 
 Camilla s door with little playthings for her. 
 Muerta-Viva had touched some tender chord in 
 old Camilla s heart, and, when not occupied with
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE, 
 
 teasing some one, she kept up a constant murmur 
 of her instinctive enjoyment of this by-play. It 
 was a blessing to the old soul to see this young 
 life sporting about her. Tono, at such times, 
 would lead his horses round that way, which 
 pleased the little girls, and sometimes he made 
 them baskets out of the wild plum-tree stones 
 that grew in the portreros. Mrs. Warwick s heart 
 was quite softened toward Camilla by this proof 
 of her humanity, and she took care that the 
 children should never annoy her. This relation 
 also ameliorated the penalties Mrs. Warwick would 
 otherwise have suffered for her somewhat anom 
 alous position in the family. 
 
 Mrs. Warwick s kindness of heart had won upon 
 "the people," who confided to her many of their 
 sorrows, and, in the earlier days of her residence, 
 she often communicated them to Isabella, who, in 
 her turn, endeavored to ameliorate them ; but this 
 sometimes conflicted with discipline, and the Mar 
 quis had found fault with Mrs. Warwick for 
 troubling his wife by making her a participant of 
 these sorrows of the lowly. Mrs. Warwick had 
 long since ceased to do it, but, in her own way, 
 expressed her sympathy, and was beloved and 
 (trusted by the slaves, whom she never betrayed 
 unless she felt it necessary for the family safety. 
 When she first drove out with the children, the 
 carelessness of the calesero frightened her to such 
 a degree that she declined to go without the
 
 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. !8i 
 
 Marquis or the Marchioness were of the party ; 
 and when she gave her reasons, it was made a 
 special cause for severe punishment if any accident 
 should ever happen during such drives. One or 
 two had been barely averted, and it was on 
 these occasions that Mrs. Warwick s confidence 
 had been destroyed ; for the calesero averred be 
 fore her face that everything went right, when, in 
 fact, the harnessing was so careless that he could 
 with difficulty manage the horses. Being man 
 aged solely by fear, no trust could be reposed in 
 them. Sad accidents often occurred from this 
 cause, and it seemed but a just retribution to the 
 masters, when they had destroyed, by their 
 severity, the very germs of truth and fidelity. 
 
 Camilla had seized the opportunity that morn 
 ing, as she passed Carlo s cottage, to gratify her 
 feeling of sympathy, or curiosity, or both, and, 
 during her brief visit, had been asked if the lady 
 got safely back to the house. She could not keep 
 Helen s secret, but undoubtedly discovered, by 
 the quick sympathy of her race, that Helen had 
 not made known her visit. Helen felt very sure, 
 at the time, that she understood enough English 
 to comprehend what passed between herself and 
 Isabella, and for a long time Camilla lost no 
 opportunity of reminding her of it, by cautioning 
 her against the dogs, but never otherwise revealed 
 the fact to any one in the house. Helen often 
 found that many an earache and toothache were
 
 I $2 THE CHICKEN-HOUSE. 
 
 invented expressly to elicit kind inquiries for her, 
 and often a song would suddenly change to a 
 moan when she saw her approach. Helen s 
 benevolence always gratified her by a sympathetic 
 word. It was a mode of giving her pleasure, that 
 could hardly be withheld from one to whom the 
 voice of kindness was not a familiar sound ; for 
 Camilla s characteristics were not so amiable that 
 one could form any attachment to her. She loved 
 her master and mistress very much, but half her 
 time was spent in making their lives uncomfort 
 able, by the exercise of just so much power as her 
 privileged age and her useful office gave her. Isa 
 bella understood her so well that she always made 
 arrangements in reference to the possibility of her 
 being off duty at the moment when she might be 
 most needed. A deadly enmity had always existed 
 in Camilla s mind against Juanita, not commenc 
 ing with the latter, but dating far back, when 
 Juanita s mother, who was a Moorish woman of 
 great beauty, had excited her jealousy, not only 
 by superior manners, but in her influence in cer 
 tain quarters where Camilla wished to reign para 
 mount. She never dared to express her enmity 
 openly to the present Juanita, but the Marchioness 
 had recognized and never lost sight of it, and, 
 since the death of the mother, had kept Juanita 
 near her own person, and more closely under her 
 protection than she would otherwise have done.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 "VOLANTES ! quitrins ! my lady ! company com 
 ing ! the Americans ! " screamed Camilla, rushing 
 up the steps. 
 
 It was, indeed, the Americans. The Marquis 
 had had horses upon the road for a week, awaiting 
 their arrival, and Camilla had seen the familiar 
 face of Luis, the calesero in charge. 
 
 The Marquesa had invited no guests for the holi 
 days ; for she was in daily expectation of this party 
 of friends from Philadelphia, who had sent her 
 word that they were coming to bring home an 
 orphan niece of her husband, who had been a resi 
 dent of that city since her extreme childhood. 
 Madame Le Blanc, a well known and distinguished 
 teacher, had long since passed away, but an ac 
 complished assistant had taken her place, and re 
 ceived many pupils from Cuba. The Marquis of 
 Rodriguez had placed the little orphan girl in this 
 establishment on the death of her parents. She 
 had always been very happy there, but her health 
 was delicate, and her kind instructress preferred to 
 bring her to her native climate and to pass a few 
 weeks there herself. They proposed to come be- 
 
 183
 
 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 fore the holidays. The visitors to La Consolacion 
 were therefore only day guests, which gave the 
 family a few hours of freedom at early morning 
 and late in the evening, and afforded Helen and 
 Isabella some leisure to remember together the 
 days of their early friendship. Unforeseen cir 
 cumstances had interfered with the enjoyment of 
 this leisure thus far. 
 
 Madame Cazneau, the accomplished teacher in 
 whose school the little girl had been placed, had 
 visited Cuba before, but had never been to La 
 Consolacion until now. 
 
 Carolina Rodriguez was now eighteen, and a 
 brilliant beauty. Her ecstasy at all she saw gave 
 additional zest to the usual animation of her man 
 ner. Her complexion, though not so fair as the 
 average American one, was still dazzling in com 
 parison with the brunette beauties of the tropical 
 island, and Ludovico, who had met and accom 
 panied them to the door, was transfixed with his 
 delight at her aspect. 
 
 Ludovico had few young acquaintances. He 
 had rarely visited the city, and Spanish customs 
 forbade all free intercourse of young people in 
 polite circles. When Carolina frankly extended 
 her hand to him, in American fashion, he took it 
 mechanically, but hardly knew what to do with it, 
 whether to shake it, to kiss it, or to kneel upon it. 
 Carolina burst into a merry laugh at his confusion. 
 She knew nothing of Spanish etiquette, and did
 
 THE AMERICANS. 185 
 
 not care much for any. An American boarding- 
 school girl from one of our cities is never espec 
 ially diffident, and Carolina was in all respects 
 Americanized, for she had forgotten the land of 
 her birth entirely. She knew the fact of being 
 allied to high-born Spaniards, but it had never 
 been a reality to her till now, when she saw her 
 self surrounded by affectionate friends, and the 
 picture was set in the rare and gorgeous beauty of 
 tropical life. Her enthusiasm had been rising 
 as she approached her destination, till she was 
 quite beside herself. She threw her arms round 
 Isabel s neck and devoured her with kisses, 
 greeted Helen with scarcely less warmth, 
 snatched up the lovely children, and gazed at 
 them with undisguised admiration. 
 
 "Where is uncle dear uncle?" she said, 
 eagerly looking round. 
 
 " He will soon be here," said the Marchioness, 
 " and how have you borne your drive, Madame 
 Cazneau," addressing the benevolent-looking lady, 
 who had stood smiling at her pupil s wild enjoy 
 ment. 
 
 "Oh, very well, madame this dear girl has 
 kept me in fine spirits all the way. I could 
 hardly hold her in the carriage. Does she not 
 look finely ? The voyage has clone her good, and 
 I think we shall hear nothing more of delicate 
 health." 
 
 " But where are the friends that were to accom 
 pany you ?"
 
 1 86 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 " We came alone, after all, unless we include 
 Fanchon, whom I took the liberty to place in 
 one of your carriages, as she never rode, and was 
 afraid to mount either horse or mule. Fanchon 
 is an old family servant of my mother s, who left 
 service many years since, and has supported her 
 self and a large family by making wedding cake ; 
 but when she heard I was coming to Cuba and 
 needed an attendant, she insisted upon accom 
 panying me. I was very ill when I came to Cuba 
 before, and Fanchon professed to be a good sailor 
 and was sure her care could spare me much suffer. 
 ing. I therefore took the liberty to bring her, 
 but where is she ? I suppose she alighted from 
 the carriage behind us." 
 
 " Mama," said Manuel, " she is sitting on the 
 steps of the other piazza, and Camilla is talking 
 with her." 
 
 "Camilla is talking French, mama," said Luise. 
 
 "Ah, then, Fanchon will be quite happy, 
 for she cannot talk Spanish," said Madame Caz- 
 neau. 
 
 "Camilla s French is not very fresh," said the 
 Marchioness, laughing ; " we once had a French 
 overseer, and she always picks up something. But 
 Camilla is so secretive that we cannot enumerate 
 all her accomplishments. I am glad, for Fanchon s 
 sake, that she can talk French." 
 
 " Your nice servants looked so respectable, and 
 were so attentive, that we needed no other escort.
 
 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 187 
 
 I was assured it was safe to travel in your island 
 now so different from my last visit here ! " 
 
 The Marquis now arrived, and welcomed his 
 niece with much warmth, and then the ladies 
 retired for bathing and rest. 
 
 " Miss Wentworth ! how beautiful she is ! don t 
 you think so?" said Ludovico, waking from his 
 trance. 
 
 "Yes, she is lovely," said Helen. 
 
 " She is divine ! " he exclaimed, passionately. 
 
 " Oh, what a pretty cousin ! " said little Pepita. 
 "Has not she red cheeks? " 
 
 " She kissed me ! " said Luisa. 
 
 " And me too," echoed Manuel. " Oh, won t 
 she play with us? I ll show her my Noah s ark, 
 that you brought me." 
 
 " And I ll show her my paroquets. They ll say 
 Como Sta ; will she know what that means ? 
 Can she talk as we do, Aunt Helen?" inquired 
 Pepita, anxiously. 
 
 " Oh yes ! she is a little Spanish girl, that lived 
 here when she was very small, and she can talk 
 both ways." 
 
 " I like French best," said Luisa. 
 
 "But you cannot talk it," said Manuel, "and I 
 think Spanish is the best of all. Get up ! get 
 up ! " he vociferated, in that sonorous idiom. 
 " Out of the way ! Pepita, here comes Caravalle." 
 And Manuel pranced across the salon upon his 
 long Guinea-grass, which waved its graceful head 
 like the mane of a steed.
 
 !88 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 " Oh where s Alezan ? " cried Pepita. " Luisa, 
 naughty girl ! you are standing on my Alezan 
 oh ! you ll break it." 
 
 "No, that s my horse!" said Luisa. " Tis not 
 Alezan ; it s Rosillo grande !" 
 
 And the two little girls pulled at the long 
 grass, which broke in two, at which Pepita wept 
 loudly. 
 
 " Ay de mi ! little ones," said Ludovico, " don t 
 quarrel about the grasses. I ll get you five 
 hundred if you will not cry, Pepita ! Come, ride 
 on my shoulder," and he snatched up the de 
 lighted child, and ran down the gallery with her. 
 Luisa picked up the broken horse, but the plume 
 was quite broken off, and she ran to tell Manuel, 
 who always sympathized in her woes. 
 
 As Helen turned to throw herself into a boutacle, 
 she saw Juanita leaning against the door, with a 
 troubled expression of face. She immediately 
 disappeared, but a chill struck to the heart of 
 Helen, as she remembered the look of woe. 
 
 "I feared so!" she ejaculated, mentally. "How 
 could it be otherwise ! What infatuated blindness ! 
 Isabel, Isabel ! " and she covered her eyes with 
 her fingers, as she leaned back in the chair, as if 
 that could shut out consequences. 
 
 That short meeting of the cousins was an epoch 
 in two lives, if not in more. 
 
 To Ludovico it opened a new world of at least 
 present happiness.
 
 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 189 
 
 To Juanita it opened an abyss of woe into 
 which her life was fated to descend how deep ? 
 
 Neither had had a conscious life till now in one 
 sense. Juanita s existence was wrapped up in 
 that of Ludovico, but she did not know it till she 
 saw his meeting with Carolina, and heard his 
 rapturous expressions to Helen. 
 
 Ludovico could hardly have told whether he was 
 a bird, a flower, a favorite book, or anything sepa 
 rated from the nature which he instinctively loved 
 and investigated. Juanita was a part of him, as 
 his mother was, associated with all his childish 
 plays and youthful enjoyments, and even intel 
 lectual pleasures. He knew she was a slave, if 
 he had been asked, but he had never thought any 
 thing about it. She was nothing to him now 
 still less was she an obstruction in his way. 
 Henceforth Carolina was all in all. " What a 
 proud-looking creature that pretty girl is," said 
 Carolina, the next day, to Ludovico ; " who is 
 she ? " 
 
 " She is only my mother s maid," said Ludovico. 
 
 He had not looked at her he did not know 
 she was proud he had not remembered her 
 existence, even. 
 
 Juanita heard both question and answer. They 
 stung her as keenly as if she had known herself 
 to be Carolina s equal. She was, in fact, much 
 her superior, for Carolina was frivolous and heart 
 less. She had never really loved any one but
 
 190 
 
 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 herself. Juanita worshipped with all the depth 
 of her tropical nature. To Ludovico she had 
 been a part of nature, a thing of course, one who 
 never thwarted him but obeyed his lightest wish. 
 He had never tyrannized over her, but he had 
 never questioned her allegiance. Every occupa 
 tion had been in common. They had ridden the 
 same pony when they were children ; when they 
 had driven in the volante, Juanita had been one of 
 the party, to carry the shawl for his mother and 
 to hold the baby. She had brought him the 
 flowers from the garden when he painted; he had 
 brought her the flowers from the trees in the 
 woods when she painted. Having no other daily 
 companions of his own age, she, ever present, had 
 been his companion. It is true he had eaten at 
 the table in the hall ; Juanita had waited upon 
 him, and had eaten at the table in the nursery. 
 He had been guarded by an instinctive knowledge 
 of his position and hers. She had worshipped the 
 sun that had always shone upon her, never think 
 ing to ask if she might worship. She knew all 
 his thoughts, which he had never thought of con 
 cealing from her, but he did not know hers. She 
 had never told him that she was legally entitled to 
 her freedom, that she was an emancipada ; and 
 what difference would it make if she had, since 
 the privilege was practically denied her ? The 
 ban of caste would also still have been upon her. 
 Within the last few days it seemed as if the
 
 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 IQI 
 
 form of her brother Juan de la Luz was ever pres 
 ent to her. The shock of old Carlo s punishment 
 had revived the bitter recollection of his loss, a 
 loss due not to any fault of his, but to his beauty 
 and the independent spirit which the history of 
 his family had cherished in him. Only the pres 
 ence of Ludovico had made it good to her; but 
 Ludovico was, in truth, more her equal than the 
 strong impatient boy who was her terror as well 
 as her pride, her terror lest he should bring 
 down wrath upon himself, her pride in his 
 beauty, and grace, and love for her. 
 
 In slavery, the heart and affections of the slave are 
 not taken into account. " They do not feel as we 
 do," disposes of all such considerations with the 
 superficial and unfeeling, and better people try to 
 think so. It is so easy to bear other people s 
 burdens where there is no love. Juanita had not 
 been the subject of any special neglect heretofore. 
 In heaven s code of morals she had not been 
 treated too kindly, but hers had been an excep 
 tional case, wholly out of relation with what sur 
 rounded her. If she was neglected now, there 
 was no tribunal to which those were responsible 
 who might leave out of the account her possible 
 human affections. Simply to ignore them was 
 enough to make her miserable, and that misery 
 she must bury in the depths of her own heart. 
 
 The next day was to be Sunday, when the 
 negroes have a dance of their own by time-hon-
 
 192 
 
 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 ored custom, at which they show forth all their 
 sympathies, or want of sympathies, with each 
 other. The distinction of caste is as marked in 
 their low life as in that of high life. On New 
 Year s day, a long table is spread in the dancing- 
 room, and the aristocracy of the household depart 
 ment sits at the first table, and is waited upon by 
 the " Canailla," as Camilla calls the field hands 
 and other subordinates. Poultry and pigs are the 
 sole property of slaves, except what articles of 
 dress they are tempted to buy with their hoarded 
 pennies from the pedlers, who are encouraged to 
 come upon the plantations to prevent this hoarding 
 of money. On the days of baptism, when they are 
 allowed to go to the village church, they dress 
 elaborately. This privilege, however, is confined 
 to those employed about the house. The field 
 hands are absolutely cattle, and their human rela 
 tions are utterly ignored, the parental one being 
 only recognized in their master s interest, for they 
 no longer own even the baby when they have done 
 nursing it. Their ordinary food is bacallao (salt- 
 fish), jerked beef, cooked corn, and plantains. 
 
 These they cook, each for himself, and eat from 
 gourds, sitting on their haunches, in the most con 
 venient places ; but on New Year s day they eat 
 together, though in rude fashion. On the Mar 
 quis of Rodriguez plantation they were allowed to 
 have oranges and anything else they could find on 
 the ground. After the feast, they fell into the
 
 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 193 
 
 wild dance which is peculiar to them, and which 
 consists for the most part in violent contortions, 
 accompanied with screaming and clapping of 
 hands. Helen had already heard it on the Sun 
 day after her arrival, but the impression it made 
 was so painful, partly from her recollection of the 
 wedding dance in Havana, and partly from the 
 nature of the performance itself, that she had felt 
 no curiosity to witness it. The beating of the hol 
 low log that forms the rude drum of the negroes is 
 so deep and penetrating that it seems to strike on 
 the very heart of the hearer, rather than on the 
 tympanum of the ear. From early in the morning 
 till six o clock in the evening one unremitting 
 sound was kept up, and the various negroes fell 
 into the dance at pleasure. When many were en 
 gaged together, the wild scream sometimes rose 
 to a fearful pitch. It was not merry, but it was 
 an unforbidden utterance, and to Helen s ear it 
 was the sound of otherwise pent-up emotions, 
 which made the best of this opportunity for ex 
 pression. The drum had sounded all this day, 
 and those not occupied in preparing the feast 
 had danced outside of the dancing-house as they 
 listed ; but in the afternoon they formed in proces 
 sion, and ranged themselves in a semi-circle on the 
 lawn before the house. The dance began by the 
 contortions of one man, who, after exciting him 
 self to a sort of frenzy by his motions, dropped a 
 hat upon the head of a woman. This was a signal
 
 ICj4 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 for other men to throw themselves forward in the 
 same way and challenge each another partner. 
 Not more scrupulously do the ladies of a fairer hue 
 wait for an invitation to dance than did these 
 sable maidens and matrons. At last all were 
 fairly engaged, and, as they whirled around each 
 other, vying which should make the most display 
 of agility and variety of motion and contortion, 
 they accompanied themselves by throwing out 
 their arms in rhythm with the drum, and piercing 
 the air with their screams. One or two women, 
 more tasteful than the rest, wound and unwound 
 their shawls as they danced, but no one appeared 
 to suspect this had any significance but Helen. 
 When the dancers were exhausted, and some 
 of them kept up their wild gestures till they fell 
 to the ground, they gradually subsided into quiet 
 ness, and the Marquis and Ludovico ended the 
 sport by throwing out to them from the gallery 
 handfuls of small coin. Manuel noted the absence 
 of old Carlo, whose Congo nature made him a 
 dancer even in his old age ; and of Jacobo, who was 
 one of the most celebrated performers. Their 
 wives, too, were absent, and Camilla turned up 
 her nose at such frivolity and such want of dignity 
 as to dance with the "Canailla." Juanita was 
 nowhere to be seen. She always hid herself on 
 these occasions. 
 
 The guests looked on with wondering, and even 
 with terror. The dance left no impression, of joy,
 
 THE AMERICANS. 
 
 195 
 
 but only of mad excitement, and the party in the 
 salon sat down in silence at its close. Even Caro 
 lina s gayety had a check for the moment, and 
 when the dinner hour came, which was a little 
 later than usual, the conversation was low and 
 scanty. 
 
 At six all was hushed on the plantation, and the 
 whole gang, except the household servants, safely 
 locked into their cabins before dark. They were 
 locked in every night after their work was over, 
 and answered to their names from each cabin. 
 On this occasion, more care than usual was taken 
 to house them all, for the day had been one of un 
 usual excitement. 
 
 "Two worlds existing side by side!" was 
 Helen s mental ejaculation, as she threw herself 
 upon the bed. " So intimately associated, and 
 yet so apparently isolated. Does it never occur 
 to these slave-owners that all are the children 
 of one Father ? that similar affections and pas 
 sions exist in each ? "
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FANCHON. 
 
 FANCHON had been assigned to an empty cabin, 
 with the usual accommodations, that is, a board 
 and a blanket But she was not locked up at 
 nightfall with the other slaves, and had lingered 
 on the gallery with those actively employed about 
 the household, till some one should be at leisure 
 to show her the place. When she was at length 
 introduced to her night quarters, which were very 
 near the house, she indignantly refused to occupy 
 them. Pope Urban in vain endeavored to quiet 
 her, and the family in the salon were startled by 
 loud and quick voices at the foot of the steps. 
 
 " Where is Camilla," demanded Fanchon. 
 
 On hearing herself called thus, Camilla opened 
 her door, which was below the piazza, under her 
 own pantry. Her room was little else than a 
 bunk, on the floor of which lay the board that 
 shielded her from the ground. 
 
 " Let me see where you sleep," demanded Fan 
 chon, thrusting her head into Camilla s dormitory. 
 
 " So this is the way human beings are treated 
 in Cuba. I have lived too long in the world, 
 among Christian people, to put up with a board 
 196
 
 FANCHON. 
 
 197 
 
 and a blanket ; but I could bear it better than this 
 poor old soul." 
 
 And Fanchon ran up the steps to find her lady. 
 The Marchioness and Madame Cazneau arrived at 
 the spot as she gained the gallery. 
 
 " Madame Cazneau, is this the way I am to be 
 treated ? thrust into a hole with a mud floor, and 
 made to sleep on a board ? Ave, sanctissima ! " 
 for Fanchon was a good Catholic. " I knew there 
 were slaves here, and my own mother was a slave, 
 but she had a bed to sleep on, and here these poor 
 souls have not even that comfort, Ave Maria ! and 
 are locked up every night like so many sheep. 
 Madame Cazneau, can you have a bed provided 
 for me ? My old bones can t rest on a hard 
 board any more than those of you ladies can " 
 
 " Stop, Fanchon," implored Madame Cazneau, 
 laying her hand on the woman s arm, which was 
 raised in violent gesticulation as she spoke. " Be 
 calm, you will make trouble you do not know 
 what you are doing come to my room " and 
 she drew her away, followed by the Marchioness 
 who joined her entreaties with those of Madame 
 Cazneau that she should be quiet and not disturb 
 the plantation with complaints. 
 
 But Fanchon was not to be silenced. 
 
 " I have been talking with that old woman, 
 Madame Cazneau, and I have been boiling all the 
 evening for I have been asking her questions, 
 and I see what sort of a place this is. In our
 
 198 
 
 FAXCHOK. 
 
 country it s bad enough. I have seen a good 
 many runaway slaves, but I never saw one yet 
 who had nothing but a board to sleep on. I 
 never ll bend my back to lie down on a board if I 
 never go to sleep again. I ve slept on the floor in 
 my day, and more than once too, and I can do it 
 again if you are sick, or anybody else is sick, 
 Madame Cazneau, but I won t sleep on a board 
 for anybody s telling me to, nor on a mud 
 floor" 
 
 " Perhaps the lady will let a cot be spread for 
 you here, Fanchon, for to-night." 
 
 " Certainly, if you wish it," said the Marchion 
 ess, and she left Madame Cazneau to calm the 
 excited Fanchon, who, as soon as she left the 
 room, burst into tears of rage and grief. 
 
 " I am sorry I brought you here, Fanchon, I 
 might have known you would not be contented." 
 
 " Contented ! I hope not ! If you had seen that 
 wicked old overseer knock these poor creatures 
 round when they came home from their work, you 
 would not wonder that I am not contented. 
 Camilla told me more horrible things in half an 
 hour than I ever heard before in my life all put 
 together. There are two people in the hospital 
 that have been whipped almost to death because 
 they would not be bitten by blood-hounds without 
 trying to defend themselves. I ll go into every 
 hut on the place and see for myself." 
 
 " I am afraid you will not be allowed to stay
 
 FANCHON. 
 
 199 
 
 here if you do that, Fanchon. You will see and 
 know enough without going to look for it, and I 
 must beg you to say nothing, whatever you may 
 see or know, for we are guests here, and must 
 make no trouble. Here comes Camilla with the 
 cot. Try to go to sleep, and to-morrow I will see 
 what can be done to make you comfortable ; you 
 know how much I esteem you, Fanchon, and how 
 much I am obliged to you for leaving your nice 
 home to come with me. But, for my sake, be care 
 ful what you say and what you do." 
 
 And, having seen poor Fanchon safe in bed, 
 Madame Cazneau returned to the salon to make 
 what apologies she could. But Fanchon was not 
 to be appeased. She sprang out of her cot in the 
 morning when the plantation bell rung, and saw 
 the half-naked people shivering in the cold dews 
 of the morning as they filed before the hated over 
 seer, each answering to his name as he passed. 
 She followed Don Ermite to the chicken-house, 
 when he made his morning rounds and finally to 
 the field. 
 
 Fanchon was a character. In her own sunny 
 little home in Philadelphia, she was surrounded 
 by orphan children whom she had taken from 
 the snares and destructions of city streets to 
 mother and to educate. She was not much culti 
 vated herself, but she knew the advantages of 
 even so much learning as the knowledge of read 
 ing and writing. She made wedding cake for her
 
 200 FANCHON. 
 
 maintenance, and found it a lucrative profession. 
 By frugality and industry she earned money 
 enough to bring up several children, whom she 
 sent to school, and, when they were old enough to 
 assist her, she took more employment, turned her 
 front room into a small shop, and became very 
 well-to-do in the world ; as her means increased, 
 her little asylum grew. Black children and white 
 children were equally objects of her care. They 
 grew up side by side in her loving heart, and Fan- 
 chon showed wonderful sagacity in her disposition 
 of them. She placed some in good families as 
 domestics ; others she put to trades. Two lovely 
 little white girls of superior ability she destined 
 for teachers, and, knowing the disabilities they 
 would be under if they went to school from her 
 humble roof, she sent them to a good boarding- 
 school in New York, and furnished them with 
 every advantage of dress and books enjoyed by 
 the children of the great. Their origin she care 
 fully concealed, and she had already had the satis 
 faction of seeing them in good situations, respected 
 and admired for character and accomplishments. 
 Nor did she ever let them know to whose bounty 
 they were indebted for the remittances that never 
 failed. 
 
 Fanchon is not a creature of the brain. She 
 was a living reality. Her attachment to the 
 mother of Madame Cazneau, who lived in St. 
 Domingo and had been saved by the fidelity of
 
 FANCHOX. 201 
 
 her slave, Fanchon s mother, extended to her 
 children, and partook of that enthusiasm which 
 is so well known to characterize that abused 
 people when they meet with real kindness. 
 Madame Cazneau had aided her in all her labors 
 for the orphans she had adopted, and had been the 
 medium of her bounty to the two beautiful girls 
 above mentioned. When that lady returned to 
 the salon, she told this history to the family, and 
 begged the Marquis to forgive her for so unwit 
 tingly bringing a troublesome guest. The Mar 
 quis courteously replied that if the woman could 
 keep quiet, there would be no difficulty, but the 
 event proved that Fanchon was an independent 
 power, whom conventionalities could not rule. 
 
 Only a few of the negroes who attended to the 
 cattle and horses had been taken out to work the 
 next day, which was New Year s. Fanchon fol 
 lowed them and the overseer to the portrero, and 
 during the amusements of the day she had cir 
 culated freely among them, but, when they were 
 shut up for the night, her indignation again burst 
 bounds. 
 
 The Marquis did not attend the evening ball in 
 the village, and, after the rest of the family had 
 left home, he sent for Fanchon, and told her to 
 pack her box, for at daylight she must return to 
 the city, which she would reach in time to sail for 
 New York in the next packet. He would listen 
 to no remonstrance, told her that she would be
 
 2O2 FANCHON. 
 
 safe with his messenger, who was to go the next 
 day, and bade her speak to no one upon the sub 
 ject. He was afraid of such an inflammable torch 
 in the present condition of the plantation, and had 
 found it very difficult to pacify Don Ermite. 
 
 Fanchon went to Madame Cazneau s room and 
 collected her things together. She was aware 
 that she had trespassed upon proprieties, but 
 proprieties seemed to her very trivial under these 
 circumstances. When Madame Cazneau returned 
 from the ball, she informed her of the Marquis 
 directions, and Madame Cazneau, though dis 
 tressed and alarmed for Fanchon s comfort if 
 not safety, could do nothing but comply. 
 
 Early in the morning a knock at her door roused 
 her at dawn. The Marquis stood upon the steps 
 when she went out. A mule saddled with a pil 
 lion, or basket, held by a negro, awaited her. " 1 
 cannot ride upon that," she exclaimed ; " I never 
 rode any beast in my life." 
 
 " You will soon learn," said the Marquis. 
 
 "Madame Cazneau, must I be treated in this 
 way?" said the indignant Fanchon to her lady, 
 who had followed her out. "Where am I to go 
 when I get to Havana ? " 
 
 " I am very sorry for you," said Madame Caz 
 neau, composing herself with great difficulty. 
 " My dear sir," she said to the Marquis, " I 
 should not. have done this, but is it not possible 
 to send Fanchon in a cart ? "
 
 FANCHON. 203 
 
 " It is not possible," said the Marquis. Luis is 
 a careful man. He will soon teach her to ride 
 the mule. Her box can be strapped upon 
 another, and she will go safely," and Luis will 
 put her on board the vessel, which sails to-mor 
 row for New York. 
 
 Seeing that remonstrance was vain, Madame 
 Cazneau said no more, but Fanchon s anger knew 
 no bounds. Terror nearly deprived her of her 
 reason, but she was obliged to mount, and left 
 the plantation screaming with affright at the 
 motions of the mule, and holding on his mane 
 with both hands. How many falls and mishaps 
 she had, no one knew, but Luis brought back 
 word that he had seen her safely on board a 
 packet for New York, and Madame Cazneau was 
 obliged to bear her mortification and grief with a 
 smiling face. She had consoled herself, as far as 
 she could, by furnishing Fanchon with ample 
 funds to purchase all sorts of comforts, accommo 
 dations, and immunities on her passage to the 
 States.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 
 
 WHEN Carolina heard of village balls she was 
 all delight and ready to go on the evening of New 
 Year s, which was a special holiday among the 
 great as well as among the lowly. She had been 
 terrified and somewhat depressed by the exciting 
 dance of the negroes; but her spirits were restored 
 by the prospect of the ball. She was there 
 whirled in the waltz and led in the contra-dance 
 by many strangers, for she was the object of 
 attention to every one who could approach her. 
 Ludovico had first led her out, and begged her to 
 dance with him all the evening. 
 
 " Oh, but it will be such fun to dance with the 
 Spaniards! I cannot do any such thing ; indeed, 
 it is too bad for you to ask me." 
 
 It was not selfishness that had induced Ludo 
 vico to make the request. He had never thought 
 of the matter before, but he could not bear the 
 thought that any of the voluptuaries who had 
 access to the ball-room should touch the fair 
 vision which filled the whole heaven of his soul. 
 Carolina had pained her aunt all day by the ease 
 with which she had accepted the flatterings of the 
 
 204
 
 THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 
 
 205 
 
 guests who, among their other amusements, had 
 visited her house that clay ; but Carolina showed 
 no fine instinct that would have made a truly deli 
 cate-minded girl shrink from a strange hand 
 Like a beautiful moth that singes its wings in the 
 candle, she allowed herself to be made dizzy first 
 by one and then by another gay cavalier, whose 
 approach made Ludovico shudder. He stood still 
 while she danced, and was rejoiced when the 
 music ceased and the revellers dispersed. 
 
 " Are you affronted ? " said Carolina, saucily, 
 when they ran up the steps. " Why didn t you 
 dance ? " 
 
 Ludovico stammered out some reply. He 
 hardly knew that he had not danced. 
 
 " I did not feel like it," was all he could say. 
 
 " I always feel like it," said the thoughtless 
 girl, " and such splendid music ! so different from 
 Philadelphia bands ! I do not see how you could 
 resist it." 
 
 " She is so young and innocent, mama ! Such 
 men as Mirante and Remon ought not to dance 
 with her. Can t you tell her so another time ? " 
 he whispered to his mother when she bade him 
 good-night in his own room, where she always 
 made him a farewell visit. 
 
 "I will try, my son," said Isabella, "but young 
 girls are so thoughtless. She does not know any 
 thing about our society, and has never been into 
 company much, Madame Cazneau tells me. This
 
 2o6 TIIE NEW y EAR S BALL. 
 
 is really her debut into the world, and we must 
 teach her how careful she must be of herself." 
 
 Isabella had observed that Ludovico did not 
 dance, and could read his face so well that she 
 divined all his thoughts, and saw that he was 
 wholly unconscious of the remark he excited by 
 not dancing. But she was more gratified than 
 pained by this evidence of his delicacy for his 
 cousin. She saw that his imagination was kin 
 dled, and only hoped that the unsullied purity of 
 his nature would not clothe with ideal beauty any 
 form of outward loveliness that would disappoint 
 him or degrade his conception of womanly mod 
 esty. Ludovico had not the experience to detect 
 frivolity beneath that fair and dazzling exterior 
 which had already inspired him with the master 
 sentiment of his hitherto slumbering nature. 
 Nothing on earth is purer than the soul of an 
 ingenuous youth when first waked by the touch 
 of beauty and loveliness, which it never sepa 
 rates from the " perfect good and fair " till rudely 
 waked from its first dream. The Spanish maidens 
 whom Ludovico had known and danced with were 
 gentle and friendly, and beautiful too ; but the 
 sparkling wit and sprightly gayety of Carolina 
 fascinated and spellbound him. 
 
 After the guests had retired, Isabella and 
 Helen sauntered upon the gallery a little while. 
 New cares were dawning upon Isabella. Helen 
 had drawn her attention to the new shade of pain
 
 THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 
 
 2O7 
 
 on the features of Juanita since the arrival of the 
 American ladies, and Isabella had for the first 
 time admitted the thought that she had rashly 
 exposed her poor heart to irremediable suffering. 
 But she was still sure Ludovico neither imagined 
 it nor shared it, and was not sorry for this 
 engrossing interest in his cousin provided that 
 it did not go too far. But, again, she felt that she 
 might not be able to control it if it did. Even if 
 she found Carolina unworthy to inspire a profound 
 sentiment, she might not be able to make Ludo 
 vico see it with her eyes. She was not the first 
 mother whose heart had beat quick with such 
 fears and hopes. Carolina had shown vexation 
 and even passion when she heard of Fanchon s 
 dismissal not against her uncle and the cause 
 of the ejectment, but against Fanchon herself, 
 though she well knew her noble heart and disin 
 terested life. Isabella wished Ludovico had seen 
 it, but he was not there. 
 
 " It is selfish in me to be glad that you are here, 
 dear Helen ; but it is difficult for me not to be. I 
 have never had any one to speak to but my hus 
 band before, and now I cannot speak to him, 
 even of his own child, or of other things that pain 
 me." 
 
 " I am glad too, dearest, if I can be any comfort 
 to you and am so glad you are willing to speak 
 to me. Do not be too easily alarmed about Ludo 
 vico. It will do him no harm even to fall in love
 
 208 TIIE NEW YEAR S BALL. 
 
 with Carolina, if he is as true and good as I think 
 he is. He may suffer, but he will not he vitally 
 injured. You must think of his escape from the 
 other danger there he might have inflicted in 
 jury upon another." 
 
 " Oh, do not say so, Helen ! An insuperable 
 barrier separates him from that race, however 
 fascinating. I know that the first thought would 
 have been the right one there. I have been wholly 
 to blame, and I do not know what I shall do with 
 that poor girl. She must know her place amongst 
 us, but her heart may break," and Isabella s heart 
 was all but broken for her. 
 
 She had trusted too confidently to Juanita s prob 
 able estimate of her "place," and had forgotten, 
 as those of her caste too easily forget, that "all 
 nations are of one blood," and that all hearts hold 
 similar affections. The young do not reason about 
 these things ; they only feel. 
 
 The Marquis joined them, and Isabella dried her 
 tears under cover of the evening shades, but -not 
 without realizing that a shadow had come between 
 her and her husband, because she could not tell 
 him of her pain. She feared for Juanita, and felt 
 for the first time that he was the slave-holder. So 
 apathetic do we become under an accepted wrong. 
 Helen, and circumstances of unusual occurrence, 
 had broken the spell, and revived all her youthful 
 abhorrence of slavery. She could never " make the 
 best of it " again, after looking upon it through
 
 THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 
 
 209 
 
 Helen s eyes, for her heart was a loving and true 
 heart, and had been warped by affection itself, 
 which blinds the eyes if it does not purify them. 
 
 The next morning brought Mirante and Remon 
 and many other cavaliers to call upon the fair 
 " Americana," who was bewildered with this un 
 wonted homage. It was not strange that she 
 imagined herself all-fascinating. She did not 
 know that a novelty, especially a blonde one, was 
 the greatest boon idle and good-for-nothing Span 
 iards could see upon earth. 
 
 She could soon talk Spanish easily, for Madame 
 Cazneau, knowing she would go back to her rich 
 inheritance in Cuba, had had her carefully in 
 structed in that beautiful language. 
 
 It was not till the holidays were past that 
 Ludovico had her at all to himself; and no one 
 knew all that he had suffered in those gay, festive 
 days. 
 
 Ludovico had had no opportunity of seeing 
 Carolina s character tested in such a whirl of 
 pleasure, of enchanting drives, horseback rides, 
 holiday visits ; and, even when the excitement of 
 city company was over, there was enough visiting 
 possible for the winter season, when people can 
 move about, to keep her amused. The young 
 girls of the neighborhood, after the holidays were 
 over, and time began to hang heavily, solaced 
 themselves with preparations for the Kaster festi 
 val, which was to come next, and this solace con-
 
 2io THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 
 
 sisted in working new embroideries and making 
 new dresses for the occasion, for it would not be 
 stylish to wear the same again. The old ones 
 were often disposed of to pedlers, who sold them 
 at a distance, exchanging them for new material. 
 The young girls borrowed Carolina s dresses for 
 the fresh patterns and she was equally desirous 
 to vie with them in the richness of their embroid 
 eries. 
 
 " Do not spend your time sewing," said Luclo- 
 vico, one day. "Juanita can do these things 
 beautifully for you " and his thoughtless remark 
 involved Juanita in many a weary task, for Ludo- 
 vico wished it, and that was enough. 
 
 She wrought in silence and increased despair. 
 She saw and felt the selfishness of Carolina, the 
 infatuation of Ludovico. She was no longer called 
 upon for her sympathy, but only for her services. 
 Indeed, he appeared to have forgotten her very 
 existence except when Carolina had a wish to be 
 gratified. 
 
 A generous heart may love a deserving rival, 
 but not an unworthy usurper of one s kingdom of 
 happiness. 
 
 Isabella felt scarcely less pain when she saw 
 that her own influence was for the time being 
 null and void. Carolina was far from docile to her 
 warnings or instructions, in that care of herself 
 which a virtuous woman must take in a society so 
 utterly corrupt as that of the Spanish colonies ;
 
 THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 2 \\ 
 
 and Ludovico thought only of ministering to her 
 gratification. 
 
 "Remember, dear mama," he said to his 
 mother, " she never had a mother to confess to 
 and account to for her daily deeds you must not 
 expect prudence of her. She thinks everybody is 
 good." 
 
 " I know it, my clear boy I will do all I can to 
 show her the proprieties of this society ; but I am 
 afraid I cannot take the place of her mother. She 
 hardly remembers her existence, and still less what 
 is the value of a mother." 
 
 Ludovico made no reply, for he felt it was too 
 true. 
 
 It were vain to attempt to describe the state of 
 Helen s mind. Uncertain when any change of 
 overseers could be made, the family passed anx 
 ious days and fearful nights. Sufficient warning 
 had been given to the negroes not to bring their 
 complaints to the house ; but the Marquis and his 
 son passed little time at home during the mornings, 
 riding about the ample domain that their presence 
 might be expected everywhere and at all times. 
 By noon, company demanded their presence, and 
 all was outward gayety. 
 
 The Marchioness insisted that Helen should at 
 tend the village balls in company with her guests, 
 and escorted either by her husband or Ludovico, 
 one or the other remaining at home on some pre 
 text. It mattered little to Helen, and she gave
 
 212 THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 
 
 herself up to the tide of events. The music was 
 so fine even at the village balls that it alone made 
 the attendance upon them agreeable. 
 
 Helen s little maid Solidad was very anxious to 
 array her for the ball, but she could not prevail 
 upon her to adorn herself with jewels, for Helen s 
 heart was too sore to enable her to wear finery. 
 But when Solidad brought her a beautiful wreath 
 of orange flowers, Helen allowed her to fasten 
 them in her luxuriant hair. When she emerged 
 from her apartment she was startled by the sight 
 of a tall figure closely arrayed in white. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed, Helen," said Isabella, " this 
 is the way in which we go to a village ball, for any 
 other garb in which we might array ourselves 
 would be sure to be stolen ; besides which, we 
 should be suffocated, and our dresses ruined with 
 this red dust. Let Mrs. Warwick pin you up 
 safely, and tie a handkerchief over your head, and 
 then we shall be ready. All our guests have been 
 made ghosts of, and gone before us. Ludovico 
 waits for us." 
 
 The village balls were as peculiar to the colonies 
 as all the other customs which arrested Helen s at 
 tention. They were held in a hall in a rustic vil 
 lage of bamboo houses, which looked more to 
 Helen like a Hottentot kraal than anything else 
 she had ever seen depicted. The houses were 
 uniformly low structures, of one or two apartments,
 
 7777i NEW YEAR S BALL. 213 
 
 without windows or chimneys, with openings in 
 the side wicker-work for light and air. 
 
 The company assembled in the dancing-hall was 
 of a motley character. It was composed of the 
 proud Castilian nobility and the guests who 
 passed the holidays on their plantations, of coun 
 try planters and mountain peasants, the latter of 
 whom usually dressed in the pantaloons and em 
 broidered shirt bound together by a showy sash 
 that served the purpose of sword-belt and money- 
 pouch. On this occasion they mounted a coat, 
 and thus made themselves candidates for the 
 hand of any lady in the room. Introduction was 
 not necessary, but etiquette prescribed that if any 
 lady refused the hand of any partner who invited 
 her to dance, she could not accept another. 
 Dancing commenced by one couple waltzing in 
 the open area ; others soon followed, and when 
 enough were upon the floor, they resolved them 
 selves into the form of a contra-dance, and continued 
 their slow, poetic motion to the sound of the most 
 ravishing music, played by a band of free negroes 
 from the city of Havana. The plaintive wildness 
 even of these waltzes went to the heart of Helen. 
 The profound silence which is the accompaniment 
 of Spanish dancing deepened the impression upon 
 her imagination that this was a requiem dance over 
 the woes she had witnessed. The dances were long 
 as well as grave, and were enjoyed in part for the 
 intrinsic beauty of the music and the motion.
 
 214 THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 
 
 The simple figures of crossing hands, right and 
 left, dancing down the middle and down outside, 
 which she ha .1 always seen in the dances of her 
 own hills, were repeated here, as probably every 
 where. 
 
 Helen resisted all entreaties to join in it, but 
 gave herself up to a sort of melancholy pleasure 
 in the spectacle, which she could not have endured 
 if it had partaken of the gay and noisy character 
 of American dancings. 
 
 When the music stopped, no conversation took 
 place except a whispered one between the ladies 
 in their seats by the wall. 
 
 In the intervals of the dances, the gentlemen 
 usually disappeared to partake of another diver 
 sion, that ran side by side with it. In another 
 hall stood gambling-tables, on which lay packs of 
 cards. These gambling-tables were hired of the 
 owners of the premises, and the fees given by 
 each player paid the expenses of the dancing-hall 
 and music. Indeed, the Spaniards of the colonies 
 would have felt it to be an indignity to be called 
 upon to pay for the privilege of dancing, until 
 they were in danger of losing that pleasure ; but 
 when part of the six months of mourning pre 
 scribed by the Governor for the death of King 
 Ferdinand was the prohibition of gambling, an 
 enterprising American gentleman ventured to 
 solicit a subscription for the dancing, and, con 
 trary to his own expectation, was met with so
 
 THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 21 5 
 
 favorable a result that a very goodly company met 
 and danced on that new basis. The dancing was 
 but a by-play to the more important and momen 
 tous transaction of bartering away estates, even 
 homestead and the inheritance of their children, 
 which is frequently done in this outwardly quiet 
 but inwardly passionate mode of gambling. 
 
 Helen occupied herself in observing the counte 
 nances of both dancers and gamblers, and the 
 multifarious fashions of dress that met her eye. 
 The pretty brunettes of the plantations floated in 
 fairy-like tarletans or soft mulled muslin, or deli 
 cate linens ornamented with rich embroidery, 
 which had been the work of their hands, for many 
 long months, for these express holidays, for they 
 must be renewed every year. 
 
 The Russian ambassador s wife sported a deep 
 green velvet, trimmed with ermine, to the aston 
 ished gaze of the islanders. It mattered not that 
 it was wholly out of keeping with the scene and 
 the climate. It made the lady more conspicuous 
 than the costly jewels that flashed on her arms 
 and in her hair. 
 
 Gray-headed ladies danced solemnly, as over 
 their own graves, in short-sleeved and low-necked 
 dresses, trusting to their pearls or their diamonds 
 to take attention from their wrinkles, or, when 
 portly, as many were, from their graceless mo 
 tions. 
 
 The mountaineer s long sword dangled at his
 
 2l6 THE NEW YEAR S BELL. 
 
 side, as he awkwardly carried the unwonted coat 
 that hampered his otherwise graceful bearing. 
 The city gentlemen danced in heavy broadcloth, 
 but the plantation lads, who knew better, and had 
 a cool country fashion of their own, quite as gen 
 teel because they were so themselves, wore light 
 seersucker jackets, and had a good time, instead of 
 perspiring under imposing dresses. 
 
 The Russian ambassador and his wife, at the 
 earnest entreaty of some Spanish gentlemen, con 
 sented to give a specimen of the German waltz, 
 which proved so distressing a performance, under 
 the velvet and ermine, that, after a few of its rapid 
 whirls, the lady fainted in her husband s arms, 
 and had to be carried from the hall into the open 
 air. Then came a requisition for the French 
 quadrille, one set of which formed in the centre 
 of the area, the Spaniards standing round it, and 
 clapping their hands at every figure ; but they did 
 not venture to emulate it, and the few individuals 
 who knew how were very glad to fall again into 
 the majestic national contra-dance. 
 
 Helen observed among the guests who were 
 only spectators, like herself, a splendid-looking 
 woman, who looked like a Jewess, with a young 
 lady by her side, who was evidently her daughter, 
 only more beautiful because more youthful. The 
 passionate interest with which the latter looked 
 upon the dancing, and the expression that crossed 
 the countenance of the elderly lady as she occa-
 
 THE NEW YEAR S BALL. 
 
 sionally looked upon her youthful companion, 
 excited a deep interest in Helen. She observed 
 that no invitations were offered them, although no 
 proud dame glittered with more unmistakable 
 diamonds than those which adorned these silent 
 partakers of the festivity. Could they be Jews, 
 and could that be the reason of their exclusion ? 
 Helen was not aware of the Catholic prejudice 
 against them, or she would not have asked her 
 self the question, for they would not have been 
 there.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 COCK-FIGHTING. 
 
 WHEN Carolina found from the Sunday visitors, 
 who were always numerous, that it was the cus 
 tom even for ladies to go from the morning Mass 
 to the cock-fighting ground, she was very desirous 
 to do the same. But the Marchioness spent Sun 
 day morning in a very different way. Her relig 
 ious education in America had not been Cath 
 olic, as Carolina s had nominally been. When 
 she married the Marquis of Rodriguez, it was 
 inevitably by the form of the Catholic Church, 
 but her husband knew she was not of that faith, 
 and the Cuban gentry had ceased to make any 
 religious observances obligatory, so that tolera 
 tion was a fact, though not a principle, and, unless 
 circumstances raised a question upon the subject, 
 none were enforced. Shortly after her marriage, 
 one of the Massachusetts Unitarian clergymen 
 visited Cuba in pursuit of health, and was sent 
 to La Consolacion by friends of the Marquis 
 to whose kindness he had been consigned, because 
 they knew his wife was conversant with the Eng 
 lish language. They probably did not know she 
 was not a Catholic, however. This gentleman 
 
 218
 
 COCK-FIGHTING. 2 1 9 
 
 carried with him a great many books, and passed 
 several months at La Consolacion, where his su 
 perior mental and moral endowments made him a 
 welcome guest. While there he was invited on 
 Sunday mornings to read from the religious lit 
 erature he brought with him, which were the 
 sermons and writings of Channing and other 
 Unitarian writers. The Marquis listened to this 
 reading, and was interested in it. It was ethical, 
 not controversial literature, and the Marquis 
 European education had exempted him from any 
 allegiance to the Catholic priesthood, and natu 
 rally from any bigotry. His admiration for his 
 wife was a much more potent influence. After 
 the departure of their clerical friend, who left all 
 his books with them, and as long as he lived sent 
 them fresh works of a similar kind, their Sunday 
 morning readings were continued, and Ludovico 
 had thus been educated religiously in the spirit of 
 enlightened Protestantism, without any special 
 efforts at proselyting. He had never attended 
 Mass, nor the Sunday cock-fights, although he 
 always heard them discussed and described with 
 all the heat and passion with which Cuban so 
 ciety pursue their sports. Every young man 
 Ludovico knew owned a favorite cock, and some 
 times brought it under his arm when he made 
 a Sunday call. Madame Cazneau expressed her 
 pleasure that her young friend was not exposed 
 to the barbarizing influence of such a sport, and
 
 220 COCK-FIGHTING. 
 
 was happy to listen to the reading of the Mar 
 chioness, and to hear of the clerical friend who 
 had left such a deep impress of his character and 
 culture. It happened that the rite of the com 
 munion service was the subject of the sermon read 
 that day, and Madame Cazneau, who was an 
 ardent Catholic herself, a lady bountiful and much 
 revered for her benevolence in the Catholic church 
 of Philadelphia, and to whose school many children 
 besides those of the Catholics were sent, remarked 
 that it always had seemed to her that the Unita 
 rians were the most consistent and reasonable of 
 all the rebellious daughters of the church, and she 
 wished Miss Wentworth would tell her their pre 
 cise views in regard to that special rite, for, if they 
 did not believe in transubstantiation, what did 
 they believe in ? 
 
 Miss Wentworth replied that they observed it 
 as a memorial rite, not as one of any supernatural 
 influence. 
 
 "There is some sense in that," the lady replied, 
 "and now I understand it." 
 
 But Carolina was not interested in the conver 
 sation. She evidently preferred the license of no 
 belief in anything that would interfere with her 
 amusement, and, as soon as the reading was over, 
 which every one else had enjoyed, she sauntered 
 out of the room in evident displeasure, and was 
 only restored to good humor by the arrival of 
 guests full of excitement. Here was another
 
 COCK-FIGHTING, 221 
 
 pleasure which she was evidently to be forbidden, 
 and she did not hesitate to express her regrets for 
 the loss. The Marchioness was so highly re 
 spected that none of her visitors were disposed to 
 take exceptions to any of her proceedings, and 
 she had never been annoyed by any questioning 
 of them. But this rebellious little inmate was 
 introducing new sentiments into the family circle, 
 and the Marchioness was very glad to have 
 Madame Cazneau s sympathy on this particular 
 subject. But no one s opinion influenced Car 
 olina, and Isabella s heart sank within her when 
 she thought of how potent it was likely to be in 
 quarters where her own had never yet been dis 
 puted.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OF WIND. 
 
 As the rainy season approached, the visitors, 
 and even the owners of the plantations, found 
 their way back to the city, where they prefer to 
 pass the summer months, during which, from May 
 to September, the heavy tropical rains prevail, 
 rendering locomotion almost impossible. 
 
 Horseback rides were now all the rage with 
 Carolina, and Helen was always glad to make one 
 of the party ; for she had been a natural horse 
 woman, as it were, on New England hills, where 
 girls ride as if by instinct, without any need of 
 riding-masters. Helen had often dropped from 
 the branch of a tree, in which she used to get her 
 lessons, upon the back of a favorite pony that 
 would come at her call, and gently trot her round 
 the fields, as she clung to his mane. 
 
 One evening, as the party was returning from a 
 ride through a fine wood, an oppressive odor of 
 living sweets elicited from Ludovico the excla 
 mation : 
 
 "The cactus! the cactus!" And, guided by 
 the perfume, they soon stood before a vine that
 
 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OF WIND. 
 
 223 
 
 resembled a dried corn-stalk in texture, and wound 
 in huge contortions round a knotted stump. 
 
 " It is the glory of the world ! " said Ludovico. 
 
 " What do you mean ? Where?" said Carolina. 
 " Is it this dried-up old vine ?" 
 
 Helen had once seen the vine in a northern 
 greenhouse, and had a distant view of the flower 
 over the heads of a crowd of visitors, assembled 
 to behold the rare wonder. She at once recog 
 nized it, and the next moment saw eight or ten 
 large buds standing erect, ready to expand. 
 
 The riders alighted from their horses, to watch 
 the process of this prodigy of nature, and, for the 
 moment, she forgot everything painful in the con 
 templation of the living, breathing miracle. The 
 expansion of the flowers began slowly, but per 
 ceptibly. The pedicles, nearly a foot in length, 
 stood erect upon the vine. As Helen gazed into 
 one of them, she saw life, it seemed to her 
 that she saw intelligence, and felt the breath of a 
 sentient being. The long filaments, that had re 
 posed upon the delicate lance-shaped petals, were 
 gradually rising from their bed, and clinging 
 round the pistil, which rose in the middle of the 
 flower. It slightly resembled the pond-lily of her 
 native lakes, but was at once more gigantic and 
 more delicate. A gleam of green and golden sun 
 light, as it were, streamed up from within the 
 long tube of the pedicle. The light in the sky 
 was fading, but enough remained to show the rich
 
 22 4 
 
 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OF WIND. 
 
 brown tint of the calyx, which softens off through 
 every shade of that color to the dazzling white 
 ness of the inner petals, which gradually fall back, 
 as it expands, and form a large disc. It seemed 
 as if that stiff brown stalk communicated at its 
 base with some hidden sun. The gleam that 
 struck up from below, and illuminated the interior 
 of the flower, was as brilliant and as soft as the 
 light of an unclouded evening sky, after the sun 
 has sunk below the horizon. But whence streamed 
 the radiance that gleamed on every petal ? What 
 was the inexplicable motion that ravished her 
 sight ? Is beauty indeed motion ? she asked her 
 self. As she watched the now rapid expansion, 
 which seemed to be accelerated by some hidden 
 force, she was aware that the appearance of life 
 and light was the result of the motion of the fila 
 ments, as they altered their position. And Helen 
 took heart of hope, as she saw this supernal light 
 stream rom the dry stalk of the cereus vine, that 
 lay prone for many yards around, its stars gleam 
 ing forth upon the night. Flowers had always 
 spoken to her heart like intelligent beings. This 
 most glorious of all flowers, shining out upon the 
 dark night, brought back her old faith, that God 
 had not forsaken even the land of the slave, and 
 the clear stars of the upper firmament, which had 
 of late been dimmed in her eyes, again poured 
 down their radiance upon her. 
 
 As the party turned their horses homeward, a
 
 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OF WIND. 2 2$ 
 
 roll of distant thunder warned them of a coming 
 storm. As they approached the house, which was 
 not far distant, they observed a crowd of negroes 
 standing in the dusky twilight at the foot of the 
 steps. Helen s heart sank within her, for she 
 apprehended some new calamity, and immediately 
 she saw a tall, stout negro, with his hand hanging 
 by the skin from his wrist, severed from the arm 
 and spouting blood. 
 
 Don Ermite, the overseer, was inquiring for the 
 Marquis, and the household servants were running 
 to and fro in pursuit of him. He soon appeared 
 and retired to his apartment with the overseer. 
 
 The story was soon told. Don Ermite had 
 returned to the field to recall one of his dogs 
 whose bark directed him to a hollow tree, which 
 proved to have been the place of concealment of 
 a fugitive slave from a neighboring plantation. 
 The negro had been surprised out of his hiding- 
 place by the dog, who attacked him, and he was 
 now defending himself with his long machete, or 
 weeding-knife, for their daily task of weeding is 
 performed by the slaves in a stooping posture, by 
 the aid of this rude weapon of husbandry. He 
 had severed the hamstring of the dog in his 
 attempt to save himself from being torn and 
 mangled, an operation which these fierce animals 
 achieve in a few moments. 
 
 Don Ermite, enraged at the act, drew the sword 
 which always hangs at the overseer s side, and
 
 226 THE CACTCS. rifE SLEEVE OF WIND. 
 
 with one blow cut off his hand. He had no 
 sooner done the deed than the consequences 
 flashed upon him. He knew too well the danger 
 he incurred, for he did not doubt that this was the 
 fugitive who had been in vain hunted for several 
 weeks, and who belonged to a neighboring planter 
 of great cruelty, and, what was more important 
 to him, an enemy of the Marquis of Rodriguez. 
 This enmity had been excited by Don Alfonso s 
 knowing that the Marquis was acquainted with a 
 case of very atrocious cruelty that had occurred 
 on his plantation, several years since, one of those 
 cases so heinous that planters of decent char 
 acter could not pass over it in silence if it was 
 once made public. He had been heavily mulcted 
 for it, and from that day had been the sworn 
 enemy of several of his neighbors, who had in 
 dicted him for the offence. The circumstances 
 were well known in the district. He had never 
 yet paid the fine, and was known to have sent 
 away his coffee by night ever since, to escape the 
 possibility of its being seized for the debt. No 
 one ventured to interfere with this proceeding, for 
 he was the terror of the country ; and such is the 
 corruption of the judiciary in the Spanish colonies, 
 that a moneyed man can act with impunity as long- 
 as he can offer bribes of sufficient magnitude. 
 
 When the Marquis and the overseer emerged 
 from the house, the former gave the order that 
 the wounded man should be sent to the hospital,
 
 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OF WIND. 227 
 
 and the overseer, after seeing it clone, mounted his 
 horse to seek a physician from the nearest village, 
 three miles distant. 
 
 The poor fellow was laid upon the gallery of 
 the hospital to await the return of the passionate 
 wretch who had injured him, and who was to have 
 the sole care of him, that the Marquis might not 
 be drawn into difficulty. No aid whatever was 
 allowed the sufferer. No friendly negro was 
 allowed even to bind up his hand. If he should 
 die of bleeding, the responsibility must rest with 
 the overseer. 
 
 No entreaties of Isabella s could alter her 
 husband s determination upon this .point, for he 
 too well knew what the consequences would be to 
 himself and his fortunes. No pains would be 
 spared by the owner of the slave, as Isabella as 
 sured Helen, to draw the Marquis into the case, 
 and, in the legal processes that would be insti 
 tuted, he might be stripped of all his patrimony, 
 for his estate was a coffee estate, which was not 
 protected by statute like the sugar estates. 
 
 This was all the defence that was offered to 
 outraged humanity. 
 
 The Marchioness was too much occupied in 
 quieting the agitation of her children, from whom 
 this sad outrage could not be concealed, to talk 
 long with Helen. Ludovico was endeavoring to 
 excuse the transaction on the plea of necessity, to 
 which Carolina listened very quietly, not shocked,
 
 228 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEl E OF WIND. 
 
 as Ludovico really was himself, and fondly imag 
 ined her to be, but quite ready to admit the plea. 
 
 Helen saw that the corruption of the noble 
 young man had commenced its work, but could 
 she speak against the parent ? 
 
 A startling peal of thunder and a crash of rain 
 brought every one to his feet, and it was followed 
 in quick succession by another and another. 
 
 It was the first shower that had occurred since 
 the arrival of either of the ladies, and one of un 
 usual violence. The lightning appeared to enter 
 the house and play round under the chairs and 
 tables, and its flash was of a deep red hue, that 
 looked as if the very atmosphere was in flames. 
 For a few moments the thunder rattled in the tiles 
 of the house, as if imprisoned there. Carolina 
 fainted with terror. The servants of the house, 
 and, indeed, many from the quarters, rushed in to 
 the hall as if they could find greater safety in the 
 presence of their superiors, who allowed them to 
 crouch around them while the fury of the storm 
 lasted. Its extreme, violence abated in about 
 twenty minutes ; but, from the steady howling of 
 the blast, and the continued illumination of the 
 atmosphere, produced by the whirling of the red 
 powdered earth, upon which the lightning, now 
 one sheet of uninterrupted flame, shone and was 
 reflected, gave evidence that it raged at least as 
 fiercely not far away. The lawn was soon turned 
 into a laguna, and if the house had stood upon
 
 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OE WIND. 22Q 
 
 the ground, as most of the Cuban country-houses 
 do, it would have been in danger of floating from 
 its moorings. 
 
 The war of the elements, however, was rather 
 congenial than otherwise to Helen, in the high- 
 wrought state of her feelings this evening. It was 
 not her nature, hitherto, to rage ; but indignation 
 boiled within her at these accumulating and ever 
 recurring horrors, and she hardly knew herself. 
 She saw how the terrors of the storm paralyzed 
 the weak natures around her. Perhaps she gave 
 them credit for more sympathy with the moral 
 tempest that raged within herself than they 
 merited. They cowered at the roar of the ele 
 ments, while she stood aghast at the depravity of 
 man. Their childlike confidence touched her. 
 They sought refuge and protection near that very 
 master who held usurped possession of them. She 
 had become aware before this time that the slaves 
 looked to the master for protection from the im 
 mediate agent whom he sets over them, and this 
 fiction of their imaginations had been more 
 pathetic to her than any direct appeal they could 
 make, when they fled from the terrific dogs of the 
 present incumbent of that dreaded position. She 
 credited this homage of their hearts to the instinc 
 tive feeling with which men look up to what is 
 above them. They trusted till their faith was 
 broken, even hoping for protection against hope. 
 Their mistress kindness was all the providence
 
 230 7 VIE CACTUS. THE SLEET E OF WIND. 
 
 they knew, and every human soul believes there 
 is one standing over it. It is the soul s birth 
 right, and is only transferred, never lost. 
 
 " Poor man drowned, lying on the gallery ! 
 bleeding ! bleeding ! " whispered mumma Camilla 
 to another negress, who stood near Helen. 
 
 "Was he not carried inside?" asked Helen, in 
 the same tone. 
 
 " Ave, Sanctissima ! no, lady ! no ! lying on the 
 gallery ! dead now perhaps ! May God take him ! " 
 
 " May he take him indeed," murmured Helen. 
 
 The lightning continued to flash, and the thun 
 der growled unremittingly in the distance ; but the 
 violence of the rain had in no measure subsided 
 when the Marquis ordered the domestics back 
 to their quarters. 
 
 Camilla had assisted Ludovico in the care of 
 Carolina, who now lay quietly upon the sofa, 
 thinking more of her own fears than of the 
 wrongs of others. 
 
 Good Mrs. Warwick had done her best to help 
 the Marchioness soothe her children, who now 
 began to prattle their fears. 
 
 " Papa, where s that poor man ?" said Manuel. 
 
 The Marquis made no reply, but continued to 
 pace the salon. 
 
 " Oh, Manuel ! don t talk about that man ! " 
 sobbed little Pepita. " Mama, when will the doc 
 tor be here ? " 
 
 " Isabella," said the Marquis, approaching his
 
 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OF WIND. 231 
 
 wife, " that man must be sent for. Who can go ? 
 we must send some of these people." 
 
 " This terrible night, dear Hernando ! I do not 
 know who will dare to go these people are such 
 cowards." 
 
 " We must insist upon it ; everything depends 
 upon it. We must protect them from the storm 
 as well as we can." 
 
 The most experienced coachmen were sum 
 moned, and, contrary to all expectation, were will 
 ing to brave the dangers of the night for the sake 
 of finding the overseer and bringing the doctor. 
 The former motive was doubtless the stronger, 
 for they knew perfectly well to what penalties he 
 had subjected himself. 
 
 " I shall be glad if he has not escaped to the 
 mountains," the Marquis remarked to his wife, as 
 the men rode from the door, well mounted, and 
 well protected by blankets. 
 
 Helen retired at last to her apartment to pass 
 another wakeful and feverish night. 
 
 Towards morning, the negroes returned with 
 the tidings that Don Ermite had been detained 
 by the storm, but was coming soon with the phy 
 sician. Many hours of anxious suspense followed, 
 during which the mangled negro lay untouched 
 upon the hard floor of the gallery, without being 
 approached by a human being, but his groans 
 gave evidence that he still lived. The hospital 
 was sufficiently near to keep all the household
 
 232 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OF WIND. 
 
 cognizant of the sad fact. It was high noon be 
 fore relief came, and then it was not relief, but he 
 was moved by Don Ermite and the Spanish phy- 
 . sician out of the burning sun into the interior of 
 the hospital, the hand was spliced to the wrist 
 and bound up in a bag, and an opiate administered. 
 When the effect of that was over, he waked to suf 
 fer again, and several weeks passed in alternate 
 ravings and uneasy slumbers ; the slumbers being 
 the only relief either patient or listeners enjoyed. 
 Every day fervent prayers went up from many 
 hearts for his release; but nature weathered it out, 
 no one could tell how. 
 
 Meantime, the runaway slave s owner was not 
 idle. On that very clay had arrived a party of ten, 
 justices and lawyers, to investigate the circum 
 stances. This investigation consisted in taking 
 depositions from every party in any way concerned 
 in the case, and here the Marquis precautions 
 were justified by the event, as far as events could 
 justify them. 
 
 The great bell summoned all the negroes from 
 the field, and for the time the salon was trans 
 formed into a court of justice. But no one could 
 make any deposition but the Marquis and the 
 overseer, for no one else had been allowed to 
 speak with or to touch the wounded man. Day 
 after day this party returned with the object of 
 involving the family in the quarrel, and Isabella 
 was obliged to preside at the table and exercise all
 
 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OF WIND. 233 
 
 the rights of hospitality to the very courteous in 
 dividuals who were employed to harass her and 
 her family, the owner of the slave not once making 
 his appearance. At last the persecution was 
 withdrawn, and the overseer cast into prison to 
 await his trial. No movement was made to return 
 the slave to his owner. He was of no use, and 
 was abandoned to the mercy of the Marquis of 
 Rodriguez, who no longer prohibited Isabella from 
 giving him the care and attendance she had so 
 long wished to bestow. 
 
 When the excitement of this visitation was 
 over, the Marchioness fell into a condition of 
 weakness that alarmed all her family. The events 
 of the last few weeks have been but partially told. 
 All that we have noted was on the surface, but 
 are there not two worlds on every plantation ? 
 
 The family of the overseer, who were peasants 
 in the mountain district, came down to the plains 
 to rescue their brother from the law. They were 
 well off in worldly goods, for they cultivated good 
 sitios, or farms, guarded by dogs, and were the 
 natural enemies of the negro, and, therefore, the 
 natural allies of the planters in case of insurrection. 
 They had a right to expect aid in their object of 
 saving their brother from rotting in a wretched 
 jail, which was his probable fate ; but the Mar 
 quis refused to take any part in the matter, and 
 sent them to plead for themselves before Don 
 Alfonso. Angry, and swearing revenge, they left
 
 234 THE CACTUS. THE SLEEVE OF WIND. 
 
 the plantation, and Isabella now felt anxious in 
 the fear that they might execute it with violence, 
 negatively if not positively, for the peasants form a 
 very distinct class, and much care is taken to keep 
 them on friendly terms. Overseers are chiefly 
 furnished from that class, also, a sturdy race of 
 mountaineers, descendants of the old Spaniards 
 and the Indians of the island. It might be diffi 
 cult to supply Don Ermite s place, and slave-gangs 
 will not work if not watched. Anarchy soon reigns 
 on a plantation if it is not thoroughly and reso 
 lutely managed, and these were chiefly bozals who 
 took the places of the victims of the last year s 
 cholera, and were not yet wholly aware of their 
 limitations. The prospect was an appalling 
 one. 
 
 But Isabella said nothing of these dangers to 
 her friend. 
 
 The overseer of a neighboring plantation, who 
 had charitably helped the Marquis take care of 
 his slaves the year before, when cholera visited 
 them, gave what assistance he could to the Mar 
 quis in this emergency.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 PEDRO AND DOLORES. 
 
 LET us now look into the lower world of La 
 Consolacion a little more closely. 
 
 When the " Justicia" came to the plantation to 
 make their investigations, the startling sound of 
 the great bell, rung at an unusual hour, caused 
 every negro to pause and wonder before he 
 dropped his working tool. They had gone to the 
 field under a temporary leader, selected from their 
 own number, and the work of the day had gone on 
 without noise, but with less constraint than usual, 
 not so much because the overseer s eye was not 
 upon them, as because each one was occupied 
 with his own reflections upon the accident and the 
 storm of the night before, which, to their simple 
 apprehensions, were intimately connected in the 
 relatron of cause and effect. 
 
 Enough of them had seen the bleeding man, 
 and recognized in him one of Don Alfonso s 
 negroes, to comprehend the whole affair, and they 
 had communicated to each other all they knew 
 before the summons came. A common hatred of 
 the tyrant overseer made them rejoice in his ex 
 pected ruin, and they hastened to answer the roll- 
 
 2 35
 
 236 PEDRO AA D DOLORES. 
 
 call. A short examination was all that was held 
 on that day, as no one could give any information 
 farther than that they had seen the man brought 
 to the house by Don Ermite on the night when 
 he had returned to the field to seek his dog. 
 
 Every negro answered to his name but one. 
 One girl was reported sick, and was found in her 
 cabin raving with fever, and incapable of giving 
 any evidence. 
 
 No importance was attached to this circum 
 stance. On ordinary occasions she would have 
 been carried to the hospital, but no notice had 
 been taken of her absence at the morning roll by 
 the man who took the overseer s place, who was 
 no other than Pope Urban. 
 
 The fugitive negro was no other than Pedro, 
 who had been purchased by Don Alfonso, as he 
 was familiarly termed, the Marquis vengeful foe. 
 To escape the vigilance of his various creditors, 
 the law that had mulcted him among the rest, 
 Don Alfonso had had his coffee conveyed away at 
 night for many years ; and, to effect this, his 
 negroes were subjected to double tasks. Pi| was 
 a cruel master at best ; but the night work 
 brought unusual suffering upon his slaves, who 
 were always ill fed, ill housed, ill clothed, and 
 savagely punished. 
 
 Pedro had found no interpreter upon the plan 
 tation, but was soon made aware that no mercy 
 was to be expected either of master or overseer.
 
 PEDRO AND DOLORES. 237 
 
 The coffee was dried by artificial heat in pits pre 
 pared for the purpose, instead of being dried in 
 the sun, and was then buried with much secrecy, 
 to be transported from the plantation at night in 
 bags upon the shoulders of the slaves, who carried 
 it through a wood to deliver it to a man who was 
 employed by Don Alfonso to receive it. Few per 
 sons knew the means employed or the details of 
 the suffering involved, for furious dogs guarded 
 the plantation ; but it was well known that Don 
 Alfonso s negroes occasionally escaped, and that 
 those recaptured were terribly punished. 
 
 Pedro did not wait to learn the difficulties of 
 the attempt, but soon took advantage of the 
 night-work to hide in the woods and make his 
 way from the earthly hell in which he found him 
 self. No fate could be worse than that. He had 
 suffered one terrible chastisement for remissness 
 in the work assigned him, and had then been set 
 to work upon his hands and knees, not being able 
 to support himself upon his feet. He could not 
 escape to any distance, but had hidden in a hollow 
 tree op the plantation of La Consolacion, and had 
 there fed upon plantains and oranges, gathered at 
 night. Strict search had been made for him on 
 the Marquis plantation, but in vain. Growing a 
 little more courageous by degrees, he had punc 
 tured a small hole in the tree in which he had 
 taken refuge, and from this he could watch others 
 without being seen himself. He had no plan of
 
 238 PEDRO AND DOLORES. 
 
 escape, he knew not which way to go, and was too 
 lame and sore to attempt farther flight for many 
 weeks. . 
 
 It happened that one evening, after the slave- 
 gang had returned from work, a girl was sent 
 back to find her machete, which she had left. 
 She took a shorter path than the avenue through 
 the coffee squares, and, as she passed the hollow 
 tree, was transfixed with astonishment at hearing 
 her own African name pronounced in a low voice. 
 No one knew that name but Pedro, for this was 
 Dolores, who had been purchased for La Consola- 
 cion shortly after the sale of Pedro. 
 
 She stood for a moment, every sense trans 
 muted into that of hearing. She heard the same 
 word again, and now perceived that it came from 
 the tree. A few suppressed words told her the 
 whole story, and the next moment she heard the 
 call of the driver, and plunged through the coffee 
 in search of the knife, and immediately rejoined 
 the gang. The driver saw her breathless and 
 excited, but, supposing it was only from the haste 
 of the search she had made, and the fear of pun 
 ishment, took no farther notice of it. It was with 
 difficulty she controlled herself to stand in the 
 mustered row and answer to the roll-call. When 
 she was shut into her cabin at night, she threw 
 herself upon the ground, and rolled over and over 
 in strong convulsions, from which her night com 
 panion found it difficult to restore her. The
 
 PEDRO AA T D DOLORES. 239 
 
 next morning she was reported for the hospital ; 
 but, strange as it appeared to others, who sought 
 excuses to be put into those comfortable quarters, 
 she preferred to go into the field. Dolores fits, 
 as the other slave called them, were so frequent 
 at night that at last her companion begged shel 
 ter in another cabin, and she was left to pass her 
 nights alone. She had become an altered crea 
 ture from the time of the fearful discovery. 
 Her hitherto listless demeanor had given place to 
 a fiery energy and restless activity which com 
 pletely transformed her. It was this change 
 which the Marchioness had noticed when she met 
 her on the evening drive. Subsequent events 
 had banished the young girl from her thoughts. 
 But Dolores had one friend. 
 
 It is customary for the slaves of a plantation to 
 gather round a new-comer to ascertain if he is one 
 of their own tribe ; for fresh importations are so 
 constantly landed on the coast of Cuba, that unex 
 pected meetings sometimes take place, and the 
 same dialect, even of strangers, immediately forms 
 a bond of union. Dolores had found but one 
 fellow-slave who recognized the language of her 
 tribe, and that was Pope Urban. 
 
 Pope Urban was one of that band of young men 
 who had left the valley of the Ayete to see the 
 world, and had been seized and sold, and therefore 
 never was heard of by its inhabitants again. He 
 was overjoyed to recognize a fellow-countrywoman
 
 24O PEDRO AND DOLORES. 
 
 in Dolores, and was the only person with whom 
 she had ever held communication. Urbano had 
 never confided her story, which she told him, to 
 his kind mistress. No temptations are offered 
 for such confidence. But she had noticed his 
 interest in Dolores, and knew that he understood 
 her dialect. 
 
 Dolores was glad to be left alone at night, and 
 no sooner was she sure of this immunity from 
 observation than she determined to venture out 
 under protection of the darkness. She had heard 
 of the danger from dogs ; but she was young, and 
 took no counsel of prudence. She did not think 
 long, but began at once to remove with her long 
 knife and her hands the clay floor of her cabin, 
 and to burrow out under the bamboo stakes that 
 formed the structure. She did this noiselessly, 
 and, after it was completed, she waited long 
 enough to be sure that every one in the neighbor 
 hood was asleep. The cabins of the slaves stood 
 upon the edge of a coffee square. The dogs 
 watched upon the piazzas of the house and the 
 hospital, and upon the coffee-driers that stretched 
 behind the latter building. She therefore made 
 her way out on the other side, and, skirting the 
 edge of the plantation, penetrated the distant 
 squares to the hollow tree. Many times she 
 stood still and held her breath, but at last she 
 reached the spot, and tapped lightly upon the tree. 
 There was no answer, but the next moment Pedro
 
 PEDRO AND DOLORES. 24! 
 
 emerged from a coffee square and stood before 
 her. He was as much terrified as gratified to see 
 her, and, after a short, convulsive greeting, he 
 told her of his fears lest any attempt at escape 
 should betray him, and of all he had suffered 
 since he had parted from her at the sale in 
 Havana. She told him of Urbano and of his kind 
 ness, and asked him if she might tell him where 
 he was. He consented, and they then parted, 
 after another wild embrace, both trembling for 
 the possible consequences of this meeting. But 
 Dolores gained her cabin in safety, and soon re 
 moved all vestiges of her means of escape from it. 
 When Urbano heard the story of the hidden man 
 from Dolores, his terror knew no bounds. He had 
 long since reconciled himself to a fate he found 
 inevitable, and which he had ameliorated by ren 
 dering himself worthy of offices of trust. But the 
 thought of the youthful chief of his tribe in such 
 danger restored fire and vigor to his old limbs, 
 and he revolved every possible means of aiding his 
 escape, even if he must accompany him in flight. 
 He restrained Dolores impatience as well as he 
 could, but she repeated her nightly visits many 
 times, and gradually a plan had been arranged by 
 which the three should escape to the mountains. 
 Urbano had been into the region with his master, 
 and knew the way. He had entire command of 
 the horses, and only awaited some favorable oppor 
 tunity to give a preconcerted signal to Dolores and
 
 242 PEDRO AND DOLORES. 
 
 Pedro. The mountains once gained, they were 
 safe. He knew the dangers, but had resolved to 
 brave them. 
 
 On the night of Pedro s capture, Dolores rent 
 the air with wild shrieks of distress. Urbano 
 knew that it was not the terrors of the storm that 
 brought on the " fits," as the negroes called them> 
 and when he was called the next morning to take 
 the overseer s place, and was obliged to repeat 
 Dolores name at the roll-call, it was with difficulty 
 he could utter the word. But the report of " sick " 
 was accompanied by no evidence of her having 
 revealed her knowledge of Pedro, and he simply 
 omitted any directions for her removal to the hos 
 pital, glad to have her left to the solitude of her 
 own cabin, where he meant to visit her on his re 
 turn from the field. 
 
 Luckily, mumma Camilla was so aristocratically 
 inclined that she knew little of the events in the 
 cabins of the field hands, unless something excited 
 her curiosity. But Urbano had begged Pazienza, 
 the wife of Jacobo, to look in upon Dolores, know 
 ing that she could not understand any words that 
 might fall from her, and Pazienza carried the case 
 to her kind mistress, who had been to see the 
 poor girl and sent her food from her own table, as 
 she was accustomed to do to the inmates at the 
 hospital. Urbano had suggested that she should 
 not be removed there, while Pedro filled the air 
 with his groans. When Helen heard of her ill-
 
 PEDRO AND DOLORES. 243 
 
 ness, she begged Isabella to let her accompany 
 her, and as she stood over the poor girl, she 
 opened her eyes and fixed them upon her. The 
 moment she had done so, a piercing shriek burst 
 from her, which startled Helen almost from her 
 self-control, for had she not heard that sound 
 before ? Another glance, and she was sure the 
 truth had flashed upon her. This was the Dolores 
 she had seen married, and might not the wounded 
 man be Pedro ? Her first impulse was to recog 
 nize her and communicate her suspicions to 
 Isabella, but she hesitated, not knowing whether 
 it would be for Dolores benefit or not. As she 
 stepped aside from the board that served Dolores 
 for a bedstead, her foot plunged into a soft hole in 
 the earth. 
 
 " The rain, lady, the rain," said Urbano, who 
 caught her as she was falling. 
 
 " The people often burrow into the ground to 
 make sleeping places for themselves," said Isa 
 bella. " I suppose this poor creature did so." 
 
 "It is a softer bed than a board," thought 
 Helen. 
 
 This was only her second visit to a negro cabin. 
 
 " Urbano is an excellent nurse, and understands 
 this poor girl," said Isabella. " We can do nothing 
 better for her than to leave her with him and Pazi- 
 enza. She is in a burning fever, and seems to 
 take no comfort in seeing me, as many of them do. 
 I sometimes think they like to be ill, but it is no
 
 244 PEDRO AND DOLORES. 
 
 matter of choice with this one. What do you 
 think of her to-night, Urbano ? will she die ? " 
 
 Urbano shrugged his shoulders. " If she s not 
 better soon, my lady. She has much fever much 
 strength sometimes she runs out." 
 
 " Why do not you put her in the hospital ? " 
 
 " Man makes too much noise there could not 
 sleep." 
 
 " Let her go out into the shade if she wishes to ; 
 it is better than to be shut up here," said Isabella, 
 and, with this advice, the two ladies walked sadly 
 away, but Helen often went over to inquire for 
 Dolores, and to take her an orange or some little 
 tidbit. The convulsions returned frequently, and 
 then would follow an interval of entire prostra 
 tion. 
 
 Helen was resolved to visit the hospital after 
 the "justicia" left, and satisfy herself upon the 
 point of Pedro s identity, for she thought she 
 should know him. She remembered the meeting 
 with Dolores on the day of her first drive with 
 Isabella, and also her momentary thought of the 
 resemblance, which she now wondered she should 
 have forgotten, but it had not occurred to her at 
 the time that Dolores was just as likely to be sent 
 to La Consolacion as elsewhere. She did not 
 lose sight of her purpose, and it was not long 
 before the desired opportunity offered.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 DONA JOSEFA. 
 
 " WHO is Dona Josefa, to whom Don Fernando 
 
 referred ? " Miss Wentworth asked one day. 
 
 " That involves a sad story, that will shock 
 you almost as much as the knowledge of our 
 peculiar institution," replied the Marchioness. 
 "These young men are the sons of the most 
 influential man in the island ; the one who has 
 most to do with the Governor-General, and with 
 out whose counsels I suppose nothing is deter 
 mined upon. He is a Marquis of S., a man of 
 great legal acumen, but a proud Castilian noble 
 who would on no account demean himself to prac 
 tise law, but is brains to several lawyers, who pay 
 him largely for his opinions. He has ten children 
 by his legal wife, who is now dead, but with whom 
 he did not live for many years previous. They 
 quarrelled, but they lived in the same house, the 
 husband in one part, the wife in another, and had 
 not met for many years, but the children passed 
 to and fro at will. His two daughters are well 
 married, and are fine women. Whatever these 
 two ladies do is thought to be the right thing. 
 
 245
 
 246 DONA JOSEFA. 
 
 They are really leaders of society. Their five 
 brothers are younger than themselves, and I know 
 of no young men who bear such unspotted reputa 
 tions. I have often thought in their case of the 
 wonderful compensations we sometimes see in life. 
 They have suffered pain and mortification for their 
 father s character, and their mother, who was de 
 serted by him, was a very noble woman, and her 
 memory is held in great reverence by them. She 
 lived on very small means, and since his death 
 they have had to practise great economies, and 
 have passed much time on the plantation near us, 
 which belonged to their mother, and is their 
 only inheritance. Since the husband and wife 
 parted, he has been devoted to this Dona Josefa, 
 who is a woman of fine education, but has a taint 
 of negro blood in her, which is sufficient obstacle 
 to his marrying her legally as well as socially, 
 but he built her a house and lived openly with 
 her, and has had ten more children, of whom she 
 is the mother. One of these is a beautiful daugh 
 ter, and such is his social position that he could 
 marry her to any man in the island, but his death 
 wholly alters their position. They are no longer 
 eligible to society. Such families as these are 
 called " Holy Families " by a strange sarcasm. 
 But the strangest thing is that these young men 
 live on the plantation with Dona Josefa, and thus 
 condone the whole situation. The daughters 
 never come, and the Holy Family lives in a
 
 DONA fOSEFA. 247 
 
 different set from the one in which these young 
 men move. This is the first time I have ever 
 heard Dona Josefa alluded to by them. The 
 father died a few months ago, and since that 
 event the sons have had to do something for their 
 own support, and are obliged to live outside the 
 walls of Havana, instead of in the city, which is a 
 great mortification, as the walls are locked at a 
 certain hour, which obliges them to leave company 
 or the opera earlier than their city friends do. 
 Now their father is dead, his vices are freely 
 spoken of, though never noticed in his life. He 
 was poor ; the salary his lawyers paid him no 
 longer continues, and Dona Josefa had to sell the 
 beautiful house he built for her, and come into 
 the country to live. She and her sister, another 
 capable and well educated woman, have educated 
 her family rather above the average of Cuban 
 society. 
 
 " There is something revolting to me in the 
 whole thing and I have never visited them. Yet 
 the Marquis visited my husband." 
 
 "What strange customs!" exclaimed Helen. 
 
 " Yes and I never heard one of the young 
 men speak of her before. It makes me feel that 
 she must have some claims to respect, after all. 
 A wholly unprincipled or unfeeling woman would 
 not show sympathy with slaves, for fear of being 
 more closely identified with them. The colored 
 woman whom you have seen, and who inherited all
 
 248 DONA JOSEFA. 
 
 her owner s wealth, is not a kind mistress to her 
 slaves, if I am rightly informed." 
 
 " What a chaos all these things make in so 
 ciety!" exclaimed Miss Wentworth. "I do not 
 wonder you live so much apart from it all." 
 
 " Yes. I have always made the most of my ex 
 planation that I attend personally to the educa 
 tion of my children, and I know one other mother 
 who does the same, whom I should like to have 
 you know, but she lives so far from here that I 
 rarely see her." 
 
 "Are none- of these brothers married?" asked 
 Helen. 
 
 " No ; they are as proud as they are poor. I am 
 sure you will appreciate one trait in these young 
 men. They know the history of Juanita, and 
 yet they never have spoken to her, or given me 
 the least uneasiness about her. They evidently 
 feel that she is to be guarded, and though they ad 
 mire her talents they treat her with entire respect, 
 never praising or noticing her. They are the only 
 men she is not afraid of. She knows they were 
 very friendly to her brother, and have befriended 
 him since he left us, but they leave her entirely to 
 her reserve." 
 
 " The noble life you lead, dear Isabella, will have 
 its reward in your children ; but it is sad to have 
 them pass their lives here." 
 
 "Yes; and I do not mean that my sons shall do 
 it, even if I have to part with them, but I must
 
 DONA JOSE FA. 249 
 
 not think too much of that, till time makes it in 
 evitable. Meantime, I try not to forget that it is 
 all God s world." 
 
 Company interrupted them, and Helen had be 
 gun to feel that the distraction this afforded 
 was necessary to her friend sometimes, for her 
 trials were thickening around her with the growth 
 of her children, and strength to bear them might 
 fail. 
 
 As Helen pondered upon this domestic history, 
 she asked herself if it was possible for these 
 young men to live on such an intimate footing 
 with their father s paramour without being de 
 moralized by it. She evidently had some claims 
 to respect ; but, when the first principle of family 
 life was thus openly violated, on what could they 
 base morality ? They had kindly feelings towards 
 their slaves, but no convictions about human 
 rights that suggested to them to turn their backs 
 upon it, and see if the world did not offer some 
 thing better. They had some education, but 
 literature did not seem to interest them, as it did 
 Ludovico, or to offer them any resource for the 
 failure of their domestic life. How far did they 
 criticise their father, she wondered. Probably 
 not much ; though there was something in Don 
 Fernando s manner that made her feel that he 
 was nt)t happy. She could only hope he was not, 
 for she saw no way out of the dilemma they were 
 in except to suffer, and custom lays such a weight
 
 250 DONA JOSE FA. 
 
 upon the soul that man turns away from suffer 
 ing that does interfere with personal comfort. 
 Upon the whole, her reflections left her content 
 that her friend was not as happy as she deserved 
 to be, and her children bade fair to be still less so, 
 for she saw in the near future that Isabella could 
 not live long.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 LA MODESTIA. 
 
 WHEN Carolina saw the freedom of life which 
 a married woman enjoys in Cuban society, she 
 longed for the day when she might throw off the 
 restraints of girlhood, so rigidly enforced by her 
 friends. The general elevation of society in the 
 northern and middle states of America, which 
 allows great freedom to young people, can only be 
 rightly estimated when compared with an opposite 
 state of things, where public morals are so cor 
 rupt that no one can be trusted. 
 
 Carolina was now anxious to visit her paternal 
 estate, which was not far distant, and the magnifi 
 cent domain made her heart swell with pride and 
 ambition. The solid weather of the season if 
 one may so express the nature of a climate where 
 the season determines the weather, as in the 
 tropics makes an ordinary expedition a fiesta, 
 and the whole family accompanied Carolina in her 
 visit to La Modestia. 
 
 During her minority, the plantation had been 
 left in the care of an elderly French gentleman, 
 who was a -naturalist and nothing but a naturalist. 
 M. Larimon, doubtless, had his reasons for banish- 
 
 25 1
 
 252 LA MODEST! A. 
 
 ing himself from society, and the custom, prevail 
 ing in that region, of not prying into personal 
 affairs, shielded him from idle curiosity. 
 
 Carolina found every apartment converted into 
 a menagerie, except the old gentleman s bedroom ; 
 and there he not only slept but ate, when he could 
 not do the latter outside of the house, for want of 
 room elsewhere. In the grand salon were pens 
 for gazelles, cages for birds, parrots, rabbits, and 
 other small game. Shelves laden with alcoholic 
 specimens were hung in all the bedrooms. Glass 
 cases contained collections of insects. Minerals 
 were piled in corners. Shells were stacked on 
 marble-topped tables. 
 
 The long white hair of the serene philosopher 
 floated over his shoulders, and his mild blue eyes 
 surveyed the party that suddenly descended upon 
 him, as if they were only specimens of another 
 genus of animals. 
 
 Not so old Celia, the housekeeper. She well 
 remembered the little nina, who was carried to 
 the States after the death of her parents, and she 
 wept and laughed alternately to see her again, a 
 beautiful lady. 
 
 And where could she spread the dinner, or ask 
 the company to sit down ? She brought chairs to 
 the piazza., for there was positively no other place. 
 She lifted the little girls, who enchanted her, into 
 the low hammock of M. Larimon, that swung in 
 the gallery. She brought fruits, oranges, can
 
 LA MODEST! A. 253 
 
 sucre. And when she had blessed and seated and 
 oranged and sugared the party, which latter she 
 did in tiny cups and saucers filled with the hot 
 juice from the boiling sugar-vats for this was a 
 sugar plantation she begged the keys of M. 
 Larimon, and opened chests that were only 
 opened now to have their contents aired and 
 sweetened, and saved from cockroaches nests. 
 From these she drew the finest and most highly 
 ornamented napery, and spread them upon a 
 table, which she drew upon the piazza from some 
 hidden recess. In vain the Marchioness told her 
 they needed no dinner or lunch, for they were not 
 far from home, and she did not wish to disturb M. 
 Larimon with entertaining guests elaborately ; but 
 Celia remembered that she reigned triumphant in 
 that department, and, while the children amused 
 themselves with the animals and other curiosities, 
 chickens were killed, eggs were fried, plantains, 
 yams, and tomatoes were prepared, fruits were 
 gathered, and, amid volleys of apologies, the party 
 were at last called to partake of a delicious but 
 impromptu dinner, which Celia deprecatingly 
 called a "little lunch." 
 
 M. Larimon entertained his guests with the 
 utmost nonchalance. He was too much a man 
 of the world to show that he was disconcerted, 
 though he was caught in undress ; but, in truth, 
 he would have been glad to have known be 
 forehand that he was to have so distinguished a
 
 254 LA MODEST/ A. 
 
 visitor, and so well attended. He might at least 
 have cleared the grand salon, and would perhaps 
 have retired to his own pavilion, on the other side 
 of the basscy or square in which the house stood ; 
 but that had been filled with his collections long 
 ago, and, like a true philosopher, he thought it 
 just as well to make good use while he might of 
 the ample apartments of the grand mansion. 
 
 He did not even know Carolina was expected 
 home. 
 
 Ludovico was a great favorite of M. Lari- 
 mon. It was Ludovico who had planned the sur 
 prise for him, for he did not wish to disturb the 
 arrangements of the good old man. Ludovico 
 knew every item in Monsieur s collections, and 
 was the solitary individual who had the freedom of 
 La Modestia. Of late, since Manuel had learned 
 to ride on his pony, he had sometimes accom 
 panied Ludovico, and been introduced to the 
 manifold treasures of the place ; and it was now 
 his delight to show them to Carlito and his little 
 sisters, for it was their first visit. 
 
 A little whitewash and paint, great factors in 
 a Cuban house, would soon make all right again. 
 Celia had taken good care of the nice furniture, 
 which was stowed away in various places. What 
 would she have done with her otherwise useless 
 life, if she had not had this to do for the young 
 heiress, who would come home at some future 
 day? She was much disappointed to find that
 
 LA MODESTIA. 255 
 
 Carolina had forgotten her and her tender nursing, 
 and the old home, and could remember nothing 
 distinctly that preceded her life in the States. 
 Celia had lavished all her movable affections 
 upon M. Larimon, who had been a kind master 
 to her, if not to all "the people." He had simply 
 neglected them, except to ride round every day 
 with the negro driver, who was a capable assis 
 tant and understood the making of sugar, which 
 M. Larimon did not ; so that, after a general in 
 spection, he would retire to his beasts, birds, 
 insects, fishes, and books. 
 
 Carolina, who did not care for the curiosities, 
 wished to see the process of sugar-making. The 
 season for the work was at its height, and, leaving 
 the children under the care of Celia, the party as 
 cended the steps of the sugar-house and saw its deep 
 vats, its huge cylinders for pressing out the juice 
 of the cane, the roaring fires beneath, into which 
 whole saplings were thrust at once, the branches 
 only being trimmed so far as to allow them to be 
 pushed into the mammoth ovens. 
 
 The cylinders were kept in motion day and 
 night by oxen who were driven in an eternal 
 round by could it be? by little children from 
 four to six years of age, who excited the animals 
 by a sustained, monotonous cry, in which the 
 wearied little voices struck mournfully on the 
 ear. A driver stood over them, and whenever a 
 little voice relaxed its song, and the ox stopped in
 
 O u LA MODES Tf A. 
 
 consequence, his lash reminded them of their 
 duty. 
 
 It was a sickening sight. Helen s vision was 
 dimmed for a moment, not by tears, but by a sud 
 den blindness as the blood rushed to her brain at 
 the sight of this new atrocity. 
 
 " How cruel ! horrible ! " exclaimed the Mar 
 chioness, in French. "Why is this, M. Larimon? 
 It is the first time I ever saw children at this 
 work. How can you allow it ? " 
 
 " The cholera killed so many of the people last 
 year, madame, that there are not enough to keep 
 the mills in motion unless they are so relieved." 
 
 "But does my husband know of this?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Yes, madame ; it is done upon all the sugar 
 estates this year. Last year s losses were very 
 great, and the gangs have not yet been replen 
 ished." 
 
 "But are there not older children than these 
 babes, who could be used ? " 
 
 " Many have died this season, madame," was 
 his reply. 
 
 Carolina heard this conversation, and knew that 
 this sugar estate supplied the wealth that she en 
 joyed, but she made no remark. 
 
 They passed into the next department, where 
 the negroes were stirring the boiling caldrons 
 with mammoth spoons. The clay floors were hot 
 to the feet. The naked forms of the workmen
 
 LA MODESTIA. 257 
 
 dripped with perspiration. They looked gaunt 
 and thin. 
 
 "They look as if they were hungry," exclaimed 
 Ludovico. 
 
 " The supplies of corn have not been as good as 
 usual this year, and there have not been enough 
 hands to plant rice," said M. Larimon, "but at 
 this season they are nourished by the sugar-cane, 
 of which they eat all they want." 
 
 "We do not care to go any farther," said the 
 Marchioness. " Let us go into the air." 
 
 Helen cast one more look at the wretched crea 
 tures that rolled their eyes up at the party. They 
 looked more like demons than like human beings. 
 
 Had the fair vision that looked clown upon them 
 come as their redeeming angel ? Alas ! they had 
 never yet seen any earthly representative of the 
 Holy Virgin to whom the white man prayed. 
 
 From this hell they passed into the bland and 
 perfumed air of the gardens, where fruits and 
 flowers of all kinds abounded for the white man. 
 
 M. Larimon was a horticulturist as well as a 
 zoologist. He found no difficulty in keeping his 
 grounds in order, though the gangs had been 
 thinned by the cholera. 
 
 " If it was my plantation, the mills should not 
 be kept going at night," said Ludovico. 
 
 " That would make a great difference in the in 
 come," said M. Larimon ; " the fires are not 
 allowed to go out during the sugar-making 
 season."
 
 258 LA MODES 77 A. 
 
 Carolina made no comment upon this, either. 
 Could she have been unconscious that a word 
 from her might have stopped all this cruelty ? 
 
 The Marchioness listened in vain for a word of 
 feeling from that frivolous heart. 
 
 With pride M. Larimon now introduced the 
 ladies into a green labyrinth of his own devising, 
 and proposed that each one of the party, entering 
 a separate alley whose shrubbery was too high 
 and thick for any intercommunication with other 
 paths, should meet together in a tall summer- 
 house, whose minaret could just be perceived in 
 the centre. Soon each one was at a loss, and no 
 one could emerge from the bewildering mazes, till 
 M. Larimon stood upon the tower and directed 
 the lost wanderers whether to turn to the right 
 hand or the left. The whole party at last gained 
 the tower, and behold ! not far distant the glorious 
 sea. 
 
 Helen could have knelt in worship to it, for was 
 it not the only path by which she could regain the 
 lost heaven of home, a home which now seemed 
 to her the very vestibule of heaven. Carolina was 
 charmed, for would she not have a yacht and 
 sometimes sail upon the silver sea ! 
 
 M. Larimon led them out of the " Labyrinth of 
 Ariadne," as he had named it, and for many hours 
 they wandered through his parterres into which 
 he had gathered all the plants of the West Indian 
 islands. One pathway led to the "silver sea."
 
 LA MODESTIA. 
 
 that bounded the plantation on one side. Caro 
 lina s delight was not to be expressed in words. 
 She shouted her girlish transports, and chased 
 Ludovico over the shining beach, and gathered 
 tropical shells and sea-weeds like the child that 
 she was. 
 
 Helen loved the sea, but the childish voices that 
 sounded across the cane-fields from the pandemo 
 nium of the sugar-house drowned to her ear the 
 gentle plashing of the waters on the beach, and 
 she only wondered that the caleseros, who sat 
 upon the horses waiting to take them home, could 
 be so amused by the thoughtless girl as their broad 
 smiles testified. 
 
 " What a splendid home ! What a good steward 
 you have been, M. Larimon ! " Carolina exclaimed, 
 as he handed her into the volante. " I hope you 
 will live with me when I come, and you shall have 
 a house for all your pets. I will draw the plan of 
 it myself." 
 
 The tropical sun lighted up the sea and the 
 heavens with indescribable glory as they drove 
 homeward, bathing the landscape in celestial, rosy 
 light, kindling the palm shafts, penetrating even 
 the gloomy arches of the bamboo avenues, and 
 touching every coffee-berry with such brilliancy 
 that each one looked like a living carbuncle. On 
 this moonless evening, without the interval of a 
 perceptible twilight, all this changed into a dark 
 ness that would have been perceptible had not the
 
 260 I* A MODESTIA. 
 
 glorious, starry arch above them reminded them of 
 its great author. The southern cross was a new 
 object of interest to Helen. It rested nearly on 
 the horizon. The little girls would have gone to 
 sleep if they had been permitted, but the evening 
 dews are heavy, and that is not allowed. 
 
 " The gentle but heartless naturalist ! The 
 sum of all villanies " these were Helen s 
 thoughts. " But the stars were set by God s own 
 hand." 
 
 " Vengeance is mine," saith the Lord. 
 
 " He will surely take it," was her mental ejacu 
 lation. 
 
 Does he not take it every day and every hour 
 that we desecrate the nature he has implanted in 
 us, negatively if not positively ? God s negations 
 are his severest punishments, for in them souls 
 may sleep the sleep of death till roused by the 
 vision all divine with which they must compare 
 themselves. 
 
 There will be a waking, and God s light will 
 penetrate every dark shadow, but not till every 
 crime committed on the earth s surface has been 
 expiated. That is what forgiveness means. Its 
 popular meaning hides the true one, and men 
 think they can lie clown at last and find themselves 
 forgiven without expiation. What a waking it 
 will be when the truth dawns upon us, let it be in 
 what world it may ! 
 
 Carolina was now ready to throw herself away
 
 LA MODESTIA. 26 1 
 
 upon the first suitor who should admire her or her 
 inheritance and give her liberty ! There were 
 plenty of such admirers. But it was the duty of 
 her uncle to see that she was not sacrificed to a 
 gambler or an adventurer, and why not secure to 
 his own son such worldly possessions, when his 
 heart was all ready to give itself into the keeping 
 of his cousin ? He did not feel " justified," as the 
 phrase is, in withholding his consent to his son s 
 imperative pleadings, though he regretted the 
 relinquishment of all his plans for the completion 
 of his education ; but Ludovico promised to visit 
 France after his marriage, accompanied by his 
 wife if such she would consent to be -and it 
 was not long before the prize was sought and won, 
 there being very little heart in the matter on Car 
 olina s part ; but there was not a handsomer cav 
 alier than her cousin, who had grown from a boy 
 to a man in the few last weeks, and she could not 
 hope to find one more devoted to her every whim 
 and wish. 
 
 After the betrothal, which carried sorrow to the 
 loving heart of the mother, it required no little 
 remonstrance to teach Carolina the proper eti 
 quette to be observed by a fiancee. She must no 
 longer dance with any gentleman but her accepted 
 lover, and in a thousand ways she felt herself fet 
 tered and annoyed. But her uncle was very per 
 emptory. Isabella saw too well that after mar 
 riage she would fall into all the dangers of that
 
 262 F.A MODI .STIA. 
 
 corrupt society, and she hoped Ludovico s eyes 
 might still be opened ; but Helen saw more 
 clearly that the spell was riveted by his inexpe 
 rience and his generous love. lie was perfectly 
 unsophisticated, and Carolina was not. Her 
 caprices, which others saw arose from selfishness, 
 were all graces in his eyes, and his devotion was 
 unwearied. 
 
 The fame of the pretty Americana and the be 
 trothal spread rapidly and brought many visitors. 
 Young girls were curious to see her beauty (in 
 deed, a stranger in that isolated society is con 
 sidered a public prize), also to be numbered among 
 her acquaintances, for she was a wealthy heiress 
 soon to be established in their neighborhood, and 
 unnumbered fiestas were looked forward to. 
 Mothers came to accompany their daughters, and 
 Spanish cavaliers found her American manners 
 and gay spirits a source of endless amusement. 
 The months of the dry season were quickly pass 
 ing, and Carolina had become the star of the plan 
 tations, and had transformed the society around 
 her in many ways. She played and sang well, 
 and, even among the musical Spaniards, was an 
 admired performer, especially by her Italian 
 singing. 
 
 The Marchioness tried to love Carolina, and to 
 find in her what she craved for the wife of her 
 son ; but in vain. And Ludovico seemed to be lost 
 to his mother. Helen looked on with a sad heart.
 
 LA MODESTIA. 263 
 
 She saw no evidence of character in Carolina that 
 would finish the good work that had begun in 
 Ludovico. On the contrary, he too had become 
 selfish for his idol, and offered no defence for his 
 old and tried playmate against Carolina s caprices, 
 for she took pleasure in tyrannizing over Juanita. 
 Silently Juanita did her bidding, but Helen could 
 see a growing aversion to her new tyrant. Caro 
 lina s tyranny consisted in regardlessness of her 
 fatigue or her feelings, and in unreasonable requi 
 sitions of all kinds. She took up easily her latent 
 character of slave-holder, taking slavery as a 
 matter of course, and proud of her own human 
 possessions, over whom she was soon to preside. 
 
 Madame Cazneau, delighted to leave her charge 
 with such good prospects, lingered longer than 
 she had intended, but at last returned to her 
 duties at home, promising Carolina a visit when 
 she should have a home of her own. Carolina was 
 rather relieved that so much guardianship had de 
 parted, for she could now give herself up more 
 than ever to the novel enjoyments and triumphs 
 of her position. 
 
 Ludovico made no confidante of his mother of 
 his occasional jealousies and heartaches. His 
 infatuation was so great that he rather blamed 
 himself than Carolina if any clouds came between 
 them, and attributed to her want of knowledge of 
 the world many departures from true delicacy 
 which even her guarded life gave opportunity for.
 
 264 /..-/ MODESTIA. 
 
 Among all the cavaliers who visited the house, 
 Don Fernando was the only one whom he liked to 
 see approach Carolina, for he was the only one in 
 whose character he had any confidence, and there 
 was a dignity in Don Fernando s manner that 
 even Carolina did not invade, though she pre 
 ferred his admiration to that of all the rest. 
 Ludovico did not acknowledge to himself that his 
 hold upon her was slight, for it would have pained 
 him too much to dwell upon such a possibility, but 
 his friends saw it, and no one more clearly than 
 Juanita, who was as much a part of the family 
 circle as ever, though downcast and proudly 
 humble where she had once been confiding. The 
 extreme suffering of such a position as hers was 
 fully appreciated by her sensitive nature, but 
 others knew it only by her varying countenance, 
 for a slave has no freedom of speech, no right to 
 complain except to an equal, and she had no 
 equals. Other favored servants of her class, the 
 personal attendants of members of families, and 
 who often have far more grace and attractiveness 
 than their mistresses, and who receive and min 
 ister to guests, and take pride in their vocation, 
 pass their lives in adorning the persons of their 
 mistresses, holding their fans, picking up their 
 handkerchiefs, combing their hair, and waiting up 
 on their caprices ; but she had been the indulged 
 companion of intellectual and artistic pleasures 
 that had elevated and refined her, and was now 
 for the first time treated as an inferior.
 
 LA MODESTIA. 265 
 
 She sat apart in Mrs. Warwick s room, the 
 home of the children, where the family passed 
 much time, pursued her sewing or her painting, 
 ministered to the children, and never intruded 
 the services she was always ready to perform 
 when called upon. Hitherto they had been ren 
 dered for love, and gladly. Now they were those 
 of the slave.-
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE TURTLE DOVES. 
 
 ONE day there came a messenger from La 
 Modestia with a present to the little girls of four 
 beautiful turtle doves which they had much ad 
 mired. 
 
 Tom, the cook, was summoned to make them 
 a cage. He was so busy with company that he 
 could only fit up a large basket that day, but in 
 the course of two or three days he constructed a 
 very elegant one, of delicate rattans, open work on 
 every side, and with slivers of corn-stalk made a 
 nest such as the turtle doves make, and fastened 
 it securely, as he thought. The cage was five feet 
 square, and stood upon the piazza, not far from 
 Mrs. Warwick s room, in order that the little chil 
 dren should enjoy the sight of the beautiful birds. 
 Carolina thought at first that she must always 
 feed them herself, but this grew very tedious, and 
 Manuel was only too glad to have that pleasure. 
 It was several days before a sound was heard from 
 the doves, whose mournful cooing is very musical. 
 One day one of the birds approached the basket 
 nest, and shook it with her beak. It did not prove 
 satisfactory. She was evidently afraid to get into
 
 THE TURTLE DOVES. 26/ 
 
 it, and after due consultation it was taken down to 
 be remodelled. Some of the corn slivers were 
 left upon the floor of the cage, and before the 
 new one was put in and made irreproachably 
 secure, which Tom was very careful to do, Mrs. 
 Turtle-dove had arranged a few of the corn shav 
 ings in one corner, and laid a beautiful egg upon 
 it. The children were transported with this pro 
 ceeding, but the egg was small and fell through 
 one of the squares which the corn shavings were 
 too frail to floor securely. The father-dove from 
 his perch near the corner where the egg was 
 deposited had done melodious homage to it, thus 
 proving his parentage, by the most musical sounds 
 in his beautiful throat, bowing his head to his 
 pretty mate, inflating his breast and prolonging 
 his cooing into a song of triumph. The acci 
 dent hushed his paean in a moment. But the 
 next day the mother-dove climbed into the new 
 nest, and laid another lovely egg, over which he 
 rejoiced in the most exultant manner. The 
 whole family gathered round it, and the chil 
 dren were made happy daily by the devotion of 
 the father-bird who brought worms and grains to 
 the sitting mother, and who would bow before 
 her, and throw back his beautiful head in an 
 ecstasy of joy. Tom soon constructed another 
 nest in another corner, but the other pair of doves 
 took no notice of it. So the watching and the 
 feeding went on till the bird was hatched from
 
 268 THE TURTLE DOVES. 
 
 the egg, and then followed the curious spectacle 
 of the mother-bird first taking the corn into her 
 own crop, and feeding her little one from her own 
 bill. The baby-bird grew and waxed strong, and 
 when it could fly would pursue its mother round 
 the cage, till the sympathies of the beholder were 
 quite excited for her, for she evidently did not 
 wish to feed her babe as often as it desired it, and 
 the little one grew to be quite a tyrant. It was 
 decided at last to let the mother-bird out of the 
 cage for a little while every day for relief and 
 refreshment, and Manuel learned to perform the 
 operation very skilfully, though it was rather diffi 
 cult to do it without letting out the young bird 
 too. The mother always came back after amus 
 ing and exercising herself on the rose-bushes that 
 grew in the gallery, but did not seem disposed to 
 forsake the neighborhood of her little one. One 
 day, however, she flew into a neighboring tree, 
 and did not return at nightfall. There was great 
 lamentation among the children who were allowed 
 to sit up later that night, awaiting the return of 
 the mother-bird. But she did not come, and the 
 guard that always watched upon the piazza was 
 enjoined to open the door of the cage if she did 
 return. The next morning, when Manuel stepped 
 out upon the piazza, the first sight that caught his 
 eye was that of the head of the mother-bird, which 
 lay upon the floor of the piazza, with many beau 
 tiful feathers scattered around. A cat had been
 
 THE TURTLE DOVES. 269 
 
 prowling round the house, it seemed, all day, and, 
 meeting the bird on its return, had ruthlessly 
 devoured it. Loud and long were the cries of the 
 children, to whom the birds had become so dear. 
 The little one soon began to peck at the corn, and 
 gradually grew and flourished. The father-bird, 
 who had always been allowed to fly since his mate 
 sat upon her egg, brought the baby worms, and 
 did his best to supply the place of the lost mother. 
 But the cat had tasted of a dainty morsel, and 
 one evening a loud noise of beating wings was 
 heard by the company that sat upon the opposite 
 side of the house, and a general rush was made, 
 everyone exclaiming, "The doves! the doves!" 
 And it was the doves indeed. The cat had 
 broken the bars of the cage and seized upon one 
 of the birds. The bird had thrown up its wing, 
 and the cruel claws had torn its side, which was 
 bleeding profusely. The noise of footsteps had 
 frightened away the cat, and, after a while, the 
 ruffled wing had been closed over the wound. It 
 was proposed to wring the bird s neck, but Tom 
 declared it would get well if not touched, and so 
 it was left ; and it did get well. But another of 
 the birds had been so frightened by the assault of 
 the cat that he would occasionally throw his head 
 back as he sat on the perch till he would lose 
 his balance and fall backwards from it. This 
 was repeated many times, and at last Tom pro 
 posed that he should be put carefully into a
 
 2/0 THE TURTLE HOYES. 
 
 basket and carried to the woods, and placed 
 upon a tree, that he might have the pleasure of 
 dying in the open air for die he must, since he 
 had ceased to eat. The next day, Miss Went- 
 worth and the Marchioness, accompanied by the 
 children, took the poor bird in a basket to a 
 pretty little wood where they often went to gather 
 wild flowers, and set the bird upon the branch of 
 a tree. It remained quiet there for a long time, 
 and at last spread its wings and flew to the top 
 of the tree, and from there to another, till it was 
 quite lost sight of ; and Tom, who had accompa 
 nied the party, predicted that it would get well 
 in its native woods. 
 
 The guard who watched on the piazza that fatal 
 night had doubtless fallen asleep, but, luckily for 
 him, that had not been thought of. The cat 
 suffered the penalty of her assault, though Helen 
 exhausted her eloquence to make the children 
 feel that the deed was no crime on the part of 
 pussy, who only followed her instinct in catching 
 and devouring the beautiful turtle dove, and she 
 did not rest till she had made the children acknowl 
 edge that it was as innocent a deed on her part 
 as the killing of a mouse, which they would not 
 have found fault with. When the wounded bird 
 could again jump up and down upon the perch, 
 they carried it also to the woods, and Tom made 
 a new cage for the other birds ; but it was not 
 long before the children wanted to free the others,
 
 THE TURTLE DOVES. 2/1 
 
 who had seen the carnage the cat had inflicted, 
 and must, they thought, live in constant fear. 
 Helen was on their side, and Carolina concurred, 
 for the mournful cooing wearied her. They never 
 saw their beautiful pets again, though they often 
 looked for them when they walked in the woods, 
 for they probably made their way to the other 
 side of the island, their original home. 
 
 As they strayed homeward, they saw a spectacle 
 to be seen only in the tropics, the native region 
 of the tarantula, which is a gigantic spider, as 
 large sometimes as the palm of the hand, its huge 
 legs and head fiercely bearded. One was lying 
 in the path, apparently dying ; but at a little 
 distance stood a beetle on long legs, just prepar 
 ing to make a dash at the spider. The party 
 stopped to gaze, when the beetle darted forward 
 and thrust its sting into the unprotected part of 
 its victim s body, now too much exhausted by 
 repeated attacks to defend itself by assailing its 
 enemy. The battle never ends but by the death 
 of one of them. The beetle had the advantage 
 this time, and its assaults seemed so cruel that 
 Manuel suddenly picked up a stone and threw it 
 at him, breaking his stiff wings and legs. All 
 were relieved at the release of the poor spider 
 that crawled away, perhaps to recover by some 
 process of nature, but apparently almost disabled. 
 The little girls were much agitated and afraid of 
 the great spider, but their mother assured them
 
 2/2 THE TURTLE DOTES. 
 
 that there was no creature on the island whose 
 bite was poisonous, or whose venom could not be 
 cured by killing and cutting it open, and laying it 
 upon the wound. This was a great comfort to 
 Helen too, who had been so often startled by a 
 rush of insect life, the darting about of lizards, 
 pretty creatures though they are, or the stalk 
 ing, about of scorpions and centipedes. One day 
 she had taken her towel from the bracket to wipe 
 her neck, and been stung by a scorpion lurking in 
 its folds ; but Camilla, who heard her give a little 
 scream, ran to her aid and performed the cure in a 
 few minutes. Another time she was bitten by a 
 land crab that laid under the edge of her bureau, 
 which she mistook for one of the children s toys 
 and stooped to pick up. 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Helen !" exclaimed Manuel, "look 
 at this procession of drink-water ants (Bebeaguas) \ 
 It looks as if bits of leaf were running along on 
 the ground, but they are all on the backs of ants 
 that live in long galleries under ground, which 
 they fill with these bits of coffee leaf. Some 
 times, papa says, they will strip a \vbole coffee- 
 square in a night, when the leaves first grow. 
 These ants are carrying them clear through this 
 portrero to the other side, where papa had a great 
 pit dug, as large as our house, on purpose to cut 
 into their galleries." 
 
 A look from his mother stopped Manuel s 
 description, for she did not wish the little girls to
 
 THE TURTLE DOVES. ~/5 
 
 hear that the people cut down young trees and, 
 cutting off their branches, thrust them into their 
 galleries and set fire to them. 
 
 The children stooped down and saw the little 
 ants, each with a bit of leaf about as large as the 
 little finger-nail ; and close by this procession was 
 a row of ants going the other way, empty-backed. 
 
 " And here is another kind of ant that makes 
 this great mound that is as tall as I am," and 
 Manuel pounded the structure till he broke a hole 
 in it and showed covered galleries which the ants 
 had made to run all over it, and up and down 
 which ants were travelling, laden with their bits 
 of earth. These mounds stood on the ground, 
 but Manuel pointed to others on the highest 
 branches of the trees, which were reached by 
 similar galleries wrought upon the trunks of the 
 trees. He had names for all the different species, 
 which Carlo- had told him when he took his morn 
 ing rides upon his head. 
 
 They saw too the little red guinea-peas with 
 black spots, which grow on shrubs in the woods, 
 and which the little girls had often played with, 
 though they never before saw them growing in 
 their pods. The cotton ball plant was also in 
 flower and in seed the flower a beautiful yellow, 
 the seed a ball of cotton just bursting from its 
 envelope. Helen recognized these from the port 
 folio of Juanita, who had painted them all, as 
 well as many beautiful flowering vines that hung 
 from the trees.
 
 2/4 THE TURTLE DOVES. 
 
 " Such wealth of nature ! " she mentally ejacu 
 lated. " Why does it not speak more to the heart 
 of man ? Is it that the heart of man can only 
 read this word of God when love unselfish, 
 divine love guides it ? That is the Father s 
 face which the child beholds, and the sight of 
 which he never must be allowed to lose." 
 
 "Birds were not made for cages," Manuel said 
 one clay, trying to console himself for the loss of 
 the doves. 
 
 " It must be dreadful," replied Miss Wentworth, 
 " to have wings and not be able to exercise them. 
 Little birds are apt to beat themselves to death 
 when taken from the free air. They must, at 
 least, be born in cages to be able to bear it." 
 
 "But they know how to use their wings, do they 
 not, even if they are born in cages, and they will 
 fly out if the door is left open." 
 
 " Just think of a little boy in a cage how he 
 would long to run ! " said Miss Wentworth. 
 
 " I ll never have a bird in a cage," said little 
 Pepita 
 
 " Nor I," said Luisa. 
 
 "Then my little darlings have learnt some 
 thing from the turtle doves," said their mother. 
 " They have learned to be kind to little creatures 
 that cannot speak and tell what they wish." 
 
 Bird-life was henceforth a fruitful topic, and 
 Miss Wentworth told the story of Audubon s life 
 and observation of birds in their own homes in
 
 THE TURTLE DOVES. 
 
 the trees, which all agreed was far better than to 
 shut them up in cages ; and papa promised to 
 send for the beautiful pictures Audubon painted 
 of them, each bird resting on the plants or 
 shrubs or trees they frequented in their real 
 lives. 
 
 " Oh, how many stories you know, Aunt 
 Helen ! " said Luisa. " You know stories about 
 everything ! I like stories better than anything ! " 
 And to this all agreed. 
 
 The birds Juanita and Ludovico had painted on 
 the \valls were now seen with new eyes and new 
 interest by the children, and when they went to 
 the woods they hunted for birds as well as flowers. 
 Birds in the tropics do not sing as melodiously as 
 those in the temperate zones, but their plumage is 
 more brilliant. The paroquets, which are very 
 gorgeous in color, were taught new sayings, and 
 were often let out of their cages, but they had be 
 come so much at home in them, they would come 
 back without being called at night, and cats were 
 banished the premises whenever seen. 
 
 " I love kitties, too," said little Pepita one day. 
 " I can t have my kitty now I wish they did not 
 kill birds. Why does the Heavenly Father let 
 them do it, mama ? " 
 
 "When pussy catches a mouse," said mama, 
 " she makes it so sleepy it cannot feel being bitten, 
 and I think it must be so when they catch birds, 
 for I am sure God makes everything right. There
 
 2/6 THE TURTLE DOTES. 
 
 are birds enough to feed all the pussies, and if it 
 does not hurt them to be eaten, it is no mat 
 ter." 
 
 "But God lets people hurt other people," said 
 Manuel. "Why does he do that, mama?" 
 
 " People are different from animals, my boy, and 
 know what is right and what is wrong ; they are 
 different from the animals, who do not know any 
 thing about right and wrong. God gives them a 
 conscience to guide themselves." 
 
 " Mama, my dog knows when he has done 
 wrong," insisted Manuel. " He puts his tail be 
 tween his legs and looks ashamed." 
 
 " He knows you are displeased with him, but 
 he does not know, as you do, why things are 
 wrong. He is afraid you will punish him if he 
 displeases you, but he knows nothing about dis 
 pleasing God." 
 
 " Did the first man that ever was born know 
 about displeasing God ? " asked Manuel. 
 
 " I have no doubt he did," said his mother, 
 " for that is just the difference between men and 
 beasts." 
 
 " I wish I did not know," pursued Manuel. 
 
 " My little boy, do you wish to be like the 
 beasts ? " 
 
 " But I feel so unhappy, mama, when I have 
 done wrong. Carlo says we shall burn forever 
 and ever in everlasting fire if we do wrong." 
 
 " Carlo is a poor ignorant man, my dear boy -
 
 THE Ti RTLE DOVES. 2JJ 
 
 do not believe what he says, but always ask me or 
 papa, for he may teach you many untrue things, 
 not because he wishes to tell you anything that is 
 not true, but because he is ignorant." 
 
 " Don Andres tells the people how to do right 
 when he talks to them at night. He tells them 
 that if white people steal, nobody likes them, and 
 they have to be punished. I heard him tell them 
 so when I was over there. Why can t somebody 
 talk to them and read to them on Sunday as you 
 do to us it is better than dancing and making 
 that dreadful noise on the drum." 
 
 " They do not know enough to be talked to 
 much, my dear boy and, besides, their dancing 
 is like the dancing that is told about in the bible 
 it is religious dancing; we don t know what 
 it means, because we do not understand their lan 
 guage ; but people tell us so who have been to 
 Africa and have travelled amongst them. Even 
 savage people know about some kind of God that 
 they look up to, but the more people know about 
 other things the better kind of God they worship, 
 for all we can know about God is what we can 
 think about him. I think the time will come, my 
 darling, when these poor colored people will be 
 free, and will have a chance to be as wise as any 
 one else but people have to learn to take care 
 of each other. That is God s way, and we must 
 all do the best we know. It is hard to wait, but 
 the world is growing better slowly."
 
 2/8 THE TURTLE DOVES. 
 
 " Why can t papa talk to the people ? They 
 like him, and would listen to him." 
 
 " They understand very little of our language, 
 my dear ; only just enough to do the work they 
 are told to do. They are not Spaniards, you 
 know. Don Andres or papa can tell them a few 
 things, but not many." 
 
 " In one country where they have made the 
 slaves free," said Helen, " they taught the people 
 a great deal to prepare them for being free, 
 and when they were told of it, they fell upon 
 their knees and thanked their Heavenly Father 
 for their freedom. I know colored people in 
 my country who remember all about that time, 
 and who are good people and do not steal or tell 
 falsehoods as you hear them do here. The world 
 is growing better, dear. Even these ignorant 
 people have their virtues. Many of them are kind 
 to each other they love good masters and mis 
 tresses and good children. Even poor old 
 Camilla would work herself almost to death for 
 you children, or for mama and yet she gives 
 mama much trouble because she is ignorant and 
 does not know how to govern her own temper. 
 Such good people as dear mama make every one 
 better that lives with them. That is the best way 
 of doing good to people to be good one s self." 
 
 " Dear mama," said loving little Pepita, climb 
 ing into her mother s lap, " I want to hug you and 
 kiss you, and I love you a hundred and a hundred 
 and a hundred times."
 
 THE TURTLE DOTES. 2J9 
 
 " And I won t cry about my horses, mama," 
 said Luisa. " I m sorry I was so cross to Fran 
 cisco when he broke Rosillo s neck he may 
 break them as much as he pleases." (These were 
 the Guinea-grasses that served for steeds.) 
 
 " My darlings, how happy you make me," said 
 their mother " that is the only way to be good 
 to make ourselves do right. God has given us 
 consciences, and if we listen to the voice of con 
 science, we shall always do right. Xo one can 
 do it for us but ourselves. I can help you think 
 about it, but I cannot do right for you." 
 
 And yet, comforted as she was by the love and 
 good consciences of her children, the heart of the 
 mother sank within her when she thought of all 
 the evil they might learn from the poor ignorant 
 slaves. 
 
 " Conchita told me about that dreadful fire," 
 said Carlito. 
 
 " Do not believe anvthing about vour Heavenlv 
 
 J J J 
 
 Father that is not good, darling," said Helen. 
 " He is all love and goodness." 
 
 " But he makes wicked people, like Don Ermite 
 and Don Alfonso," said Manuel. 
 
 " He does not make them wicked, my boy," 
 
 . said his mother, " he makes people so that they 
 
 can be good if they wish to. which is better than 
 
 being only as good as the birds and fishes and 
 
 other animals ; don t you think so ?" 
 
 " I don t know, mama."
 
 2 So THE TURTLE DOTES. 
 
 " Don t you wish to be growing better and 
 wiser all the time, since you are to live forever and 
 ever ? the animals know all they can know when 
 they are born." 
 
 " Must I live forever and ever and ever ? " said 
 Carlito. " I don t want to live so long. I want to 
 die and never wake up again when I hear of any 
 thing cruel, cruel, cruel, " and he began to cry. 
 
 Luisa, who had been listening, burst into a 
 violent fit of weeping, and little Pepita swelled and 
 sobbed in sympathy. 
 
 "My darling children," said their mother, whose 
 heart was sore almost to bursting, "let us not 
 think of the wrong things people can do, but of 
 the good the dear Heavenly Father wishes them 
 to do and has made them able to do, and of this 
 beautiful world that he has put us into to help us 
 be good and kind and loving. We will all go to 
 drive now, and see how many beautiful things there 
 are to make us happy. Mrs. Warwick will get 
 you ready while Aunt Helen and I go to find our 
 shawls." 
 
 And the little party broke up for the moment. 
 
 " I believe my heart will break, Helen these 
 dear children are too young for such sad scenes as 
 their eyes are now opened to. There is no such 
 thing as shielding them from such knowledge 
 here I wish my husband had been with us just 
 now." 
 
 Helen s heart was too full for speech she
 
 THE TURTLE DOTES. 28 1 
 
 could only embrace her friend, for whose pain she 
 saw no remedy but around whom darkness 
 seemed to be closing moral darkness, the silver 
 lining of whose cloud was not yet visible. 
 
 This precocity of experience in such a state of 
 society is appalling, and, if fully realized in its 
 effects upon characters, might well make the hearts 
 of mother s break but God s resources are un 
 fathomable. The fair universe is his answer to 
 the crying soul, if that soul can only be taught to 
 read it aright. Its ministrations do meet the 
 demand, if the moral evil can be kept out of sight 
 till the heart is strengthened by its teachings. 
 Youth is the time for happiness but if love does 
 not prevail where can the happiness be found ? 
 The child must be made to feel that God is love, or 
 he loses his way in this otherwise dark valley. Isa 
 bella saw as she had never seen before what is the 
 mission of the mother. She is the near Providence 
 who must represent the Heavenly Father s love 
 and wisdom. 
 
 A few mornings after this, as Helen was about 
 to rise, she saw her door gently opened and heard 
 a low knock upon it. She said " Come in," and 
 little Pepita bounded to the bedside. 
 
 "Aunt Helen ! won t you come into the nursery 
 a moment after you are dressed ? I want to show 
 you something, oh, so beautiful ! " 
 
 " I will, darling -give me a good kiss." 
 
 Pepita gave the kiss and disappeared.
 
 282 THE TURTLE DOTES. 
 
 When Helen entered the nursery, she saw upon 
 the wall opposite the door an exquisite painting of 
 the turtle dove and the young bird sitting upon 
 a tea-rose bush such as grow in the piazza garden. 
 
 " How beautiful ! did Juanita paint it ? " said 
 Helen. 
 
 " Yes, Juanita is always painting something 
 pretty there is a whole portfolio of her paint 
 ings." 
 
 " I must look at them if they are as beautiful as 
 this." 
 
 " Oh, they are, they are she can paint the 
 whole world," said Manuel. 
 
 Carolina and Ludovico now came in to see the 
 painted doves. 
 
 "They look real, not as if they were painted," 
 said Ludovico "and they look to me as if they 
 were human doves such beautiful expression in 
 the eyes, as if they understood us all and our love 
 for them," he continued, quite carried beyond him 
 self " Look, Carolina ! did you ever see such 
 painting as that ? " 
 
 "Who taught Juanita to paint like that?" re 
 plied Carolina, but without a word of sympathy 
 or admiration. 
 
 " I gave her her first lessons said the Mar 
 chioness, "but she far tr?n.->cends me now. I 
 cannot paint the human soul looking through a 
 dcve s eyes. When you have time to look round, 
 you will see her paintings in all the halls. Among
 
 THE TURTLE DOVES. 283 
 
 others you will see a view of the beach at La 
 Modestia." 
 
 "Are all these wall-paintings hers ? She must 
 go and paint the walls in La Modestia, for me." 
 
 Juanita was standing in the next room, whose 
 door was ajar, and heard this ; but no one re 
 sponded to it. Juanita was happy at that moment 
 because Ludovico had spoken warmly of her, but 
 she did not appear. 
 
 As they passed to the breakfast-table on the 
 gallery, Helen entered the studio and found 
 Juanita leaning against a window, her eyes full of 
 tears. Helen could not speak, but she put her 
 arms around her and kissed her, which turned the 
 fountain into a river. And, for the first time, 
 Helen s eye caught the view of a splendid 
 Madonna, that hung upon the walls. 
 
 " Is that yours, too ?" she whispered. 
 
 Juanita gave a. mute assent, and they parted. 
 
 When Helen sat down to breakfast she said : 
 " I have for the first time seen that Madonna in 
 the studio. Why did I not see it before ? " 
 
 " It was covered, to protect it from one of 
 Camilla s sweepings," said the Marchioness. 
 
 " Do give me its history ! " 
 
 "The picture came into the hands of a friend 
 of ours in Havana, in a cargo of old metal, that 
 was brought to copper a vessel. We happened to 
 be there and thought it might be something val 
 uable, as the frame was very massive, but it was
 
 284 THE TL RTLE DOVES. 
 
 so obscured by time and soiling that we could not 
 decipher it, till I sent for some nut oil and 
 washed it all over, which brought out all its 
 beauty. I was so desirous of copying it that my 
 friend sent it to me, shortly after, for that pur 
 pose ; but it came in the season of the sewing, 
 and when that was passed, and I was preparing to 
 paint it, I found it copied by Juanita, who had 
 asked me to let her paint, that season, instead of 
 helping about the sewing. She had always been 
 so helpful to me that I thought it a strange re 
 quest, but, as it was the first indulgence she ever 
 asked for, I granted it. She had consulted Lu- 
 dovico about it, and wished to do it then, for fear 
 she might lose the opportunity if she waited. I 
 have never thought it worth while to paint it my 
 self, as I could not compete with her. It is called 
 a perfect copy, and, to my eye, there is a beauty 
 in it that Murillo did not put into his, for it 
 proves to be a masterpiece of that artist." 
 
 " Where did you get that wonderful creature ? " 
 asked Carolina, somewhat irreverently. 
 
 " Her mother and grandmother were slaves of 
 my grandfather, and he gave them to me when I 
 was married. They were all Mussulmans ; there are 
 many Mussulmans in Cuba, but these are the most 
 gifted ones we have ever known of. They have 
 kept their own faith through everything, and 
 shown themselves capable of cultivation in every 
 direction."
 
 THE TURTLE DOVES. 285 
 
 " Can she read ? " inquired Carolina. 
 
 A latent smile appeared even on the face of the 
 Marquis. 
 
 " Look behind her door in her sleeping apart 
 ment, and you will see a rare art library on her 
 book-shelves," he replied. " Your aunt keeps her 
 supplied with books, as well as artist s materials." 
 
 "Why! what a Phoenix!" exclaimed Carolina. 
 "I presume she looks down upon us all. I thought 
 I could draw and paint pretty well, but I cannot 
 hold a candle to her. Did she ever go to Amer 
 ica? for I saw on Miss Wentworth s walls what 
 seemed to me to be American scenery." 
 
 " No," said the Marchioness ; "that painting is 
 mine the only one that adorns these walls ; for 
 I have spent my artistic faculties in teaching the 
 children to draw and paint, and have left them to 
 adorn the walls. These flowers and birds that 
 you see are Ludovico s work. We live such a re 
 tired life that we must make the most of such 
 resources. When the holidays are over, I am 
 afraid you will find it a little dull here, unless you 
 can use your faculties well." 
 
 " Oh, I am no artist, I care for society." 
 
 " A woman cannot do a finer work than to bear 
 her part nobly in society, especially here," said 
 the Marquis ; and Isabella felt that he was think 
 ing of her. Carolina felt, too, as if this was a 
 personal remark, and that the conversation was 
 getting too serious for her taste, and so she pro-
 
 286 TV//-; TURTLE DOVES. 
 
 posed to Ludovico to take a ride on their ponies, 
 and the breakfast party dispersed. Helen went 
 to the portfolios, for here was a new phase of life 
 in the tropics. And in Juanita s portfolios she 
 found abundant food for reflection. There was 
 the history of a soul, as it were. The difference 
 between Juanita s sketches, whether of a rare 
 flower or tree or landscape, or of a head - of 
 which there were innumerable specimens, and 
 the drawings of Ludovico, was the difference be 
 tween talent and genius. Juanita s were not 
 transcripts of anything, though portraits, but were 
 expressive of the highest thought suggested by 
 the image. 
 
 "That all this should be done in a corner!" 
 was Helen s mental ejaculation. " But they will 
 live after her," was the next thought. 
 
 In the portfolios of her friend, she found ample 
 testimony to her love of New England, which was 
 dear to Helen s heart. In the summers she had 
 always taken Isabella in her visits among her 
 friends, and here she found sketches of the lovely 
 elm-tree valleys of Massachusetts and Connecti 
 cut, the azalea-covered hills of Vermont, the 
 mountain-laurel reaches of New Hampshire, the 
 hemlocks and pines of Maine, for these jaunts 
 were always enlivened by sketching ; and the 
 autumnal coloring, which, in the language of one 
 of her native poets, gives the impression that the 
 jewels imprisoned in the earth had struck their
 
 THE TURTLE DOVES. 287 
 
 gorgeous dyes through the foliage, had not been 
 forgotten by the little lover of beauty. 
 
 Helen possessed herself of many of these gems, 
 sure she should obtain her friend s permission to 
 hang them where she could always see them. 
 Ludovico s work had been to find the rare tropi 
 cal plants the night-blooming cereus, the cam 
 panula, and other native products, trees and 
 fruits which would vie in beauty with those of any 
 land. Luxury so enjoyed bore its appropriate 
 fruit, and harmed no soul ; and it was balm to 
 Helen s wounded spirits, to see what a noble life 
 could be, no matter where passed. 
 
 Could this be made living and fruitful to Caro 
 lina, who seemed to have entered this domestic 
 paradise like an evil spirit ? for what else are 
 selfishness and vanity ?
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 "Ax invitation from the Countess Lopez! oh, 
 how delightful ! " exclaimed Carolina, dancing one 
 morning into the salon, where sat the Marchioness 
 and Helen. Ludovico followed, and looked rather 
 inquiringly at his mother. 
 
 Encouraged by this recognition of her possible 
 wishes, Isabella said, " It is many years since I 
 visited that lady I hardly feel willing to resume 
 the acquaintance. Do you think, my son, that 
 you had better number her among your future 
 friends ? " 
 
 Ludovico knew that the Countess of Lopez was 
 not considered respectable among Spaniards even, 
 although the whole neighborhood attended her fies- 
 
 o o 
 
 tas, and he would not have accepted the invitation 
 against even a suggestion from his mother to the 
 contrary, had not Carolina vehemently, and even 
 petulantly, insisted. 
 
 " What matter is it if she is not good, dear 
 auntie? She cannot hurt us, and I have longed 
 to see that splendid plantation, and herself too, 
 for I hear she is the most beautiful woman in 
 Cuba. Oh, you must let us go ! I am not afraid 
 
 288
 
 PARJ ED FAMILIES. 289 
 
 to go alone, but I suppose that, according to your 
 foolish Spanish customs, it will be proper for you 
 to go too. Oh, do go, clear aunt, and perhaps 
 Miss Wentworth will go. I am sure she is grave 
 enough to balance all my flightiness and I will 
 be so good and discreet. I had rather go there 
 than anywhere in Cuba, for every one says her 
 parties are the pleasantest. Every one goes, and 
 she always has splendid music from Havana. 
 Pepe says it is the greatest fun in the world to 
 catch her in one of her summer-houses, where she 
 has decoyed some one in with her cards, and is 
 fleecing him of all he has in the world. Oh, 
 we must go there ! " and she looked to Ludovico 
 for aid. 
 
 "Just this once, mother. You know every one 
 goes. It will only look strange if we refuse and 
 go everywhere else." 
 
 " But I cannot meet her as one lady should 
 meet another, my son, do you wish me to do 
 it ? I should see that murdered husband stand 
 ing between us." 
 
 " Murdered husband ! " exclaimed Carolina. 
 " What ! did she murder her husband ? Why ? 
 Do tell me about it." 
 
 " She wished to get rid of him, probably, for he 
 was a decent man." 
 
 "But, mama," said Ludovico, "was it ever 
 proved ? " 
 
 " No attempt was made to prove it, but does 
 any one doubt it ? "
 
 2QO PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 "Perhaps not," said he; "and yet every one 
 visits her just the same." 
 
 " Too many do that, I know, but I cannot make 
 up my mind to do it. I never meant that you 
 should be caught in her summer-houses, my son, 
 where I know she is famous for gambling away 
 people s birthrights, and I hope Carolina will give 
 this up to please her aunt, and still more her uncle, 
 who would object, I am sure." 
 
 The Marquis entered at the moment, and his 
 objection was so decided that not another word 
 could be said ; but Helen heard Caroline mutter, 
 as she sauntered out upon the piazza, " When I 
 am my own mistress, I will do as I please." Nor 
 did the self-willed beauty recover her good tem 
 per during the day, but evidently resented the 
 authority of her guardians. 
 
 Helen hoped Ludovico s eyes would be unsealed 
 by this and similar demonstrations of character, 
 but Ludovico s sympathies were, for the time 
 being, enlisted on Carolina s side. It would have 
 been dangerous to his prospects if it had been 
 otherwise, and this consciousness, not recognized 
 by himself, often blinded him to the truth. The 
 Marchioness knew that the society at La Mari- 
 posa, the splendid heritage of the Lopez, would 
 be far from select, and hoped this check to Caro 
 lina s fancies would be followed up by Ludovico, 
 when the power came into his hands. The Coun 
 tess entertainments were fabulously enchanting,
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 29 1 
 
 and the whole world of the neighborhood would 
 be there, but she had hitherto kept Luclovico from 
 the snare, and could still less trust Carolina in it. 
 Even in that -community, the Marchioness of Rod- 
 riquez could do as she pleased, for she was re 
 spected even by those who did not dare to imitate 
 her independence. 
 
 " When I meet the Countess of Lopez," she 
 said to Helen, as the young people perambulated 
 the gallery, " I speak to her as if she were the re 
 spectable woman she ought to be. Nor would my 
 doing otherwise even be accredited to the true 
 cause. I should be thought impolite not to do so, 
 but many mothers who do the same would not take 
 their daughters to her home. So, you see, we 
 can hold up a little testimony of our principles, 
 when it comes to treating a murderess cordially. 
 Her other crimes, of quite as deep a dye, would 
 be considered no disqualification for society, if 
 this suspicion did not fill people s minds with 
 horror." 
 
 " I hope she has no children," said Helen. 
 
 " Yes, she has several, and they are married 
 well, as the world says, and they are very decent 
 people in comparison. Their standing is in no 
 wise affected by their mother s character. In 
 fact, my dear Helen, gossip is not the fashion 
 here, except among our slaves. The " people," as 
 they are called, spread information about charac 
 ter and events. It is through them that we know
 
 2Q2 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 what passes on the various plantations, and their 
 testimony is rarely doubted. They are, indeed, 
 the only persons who have the means of knowing 
 the events of every-day life, for it is not consid 
 ered etiquette to report of our neighbors doings. 
 In this case, it is not because people are above 
 scandal, but because every man lives in a glass 
 house. I should not dare to say why I refuse the 
 Countess of Lopez invitation, for society would 
 only laugh at me, and think me a dishonorable 
 neighbor for mentioning my reasons. Another 
 mother, careful of her children s characters, might 
 surmise my reason, but we should not be likely to 
 speak of it together. Still less do we ever criti 
 cise each other in our relations of slave-holders." 
 
 At this moment, mumma Camilla came up the 
 steps of the gallery, crying and wringing her hands. 
 
 " Ay de mi ! my lady ! Ave, sanctissima ! poor 
 mothers ! poor little ones ! much people down 
 there ! thank God, he has all my children ! " 
 
 "What is the matter! what can it be? Per 
 haps it is nothing, after all. What is it, Camilla," 
 said her mistress, with an appearance of calm 
 ness, for Helen s terror had startled her into the 
 apprehension that something unusual might have 
 occurred. 
 
 " There they are ! there they go ! " said Camilla, 
 as a party of gentlemen passed the piazza in com 
 pany with the Marquis. " Poor mothers ! poor 
 little ones ! "
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 293 
 
 It was not the intention of the Marquis that 
 the errand of his visitors should transpire to the 
 family, at least till they had gone, for he was dis 
 turbed at the thought of his wife s distress on 
 knowing it. But an event upon a plantation may 
 be likened to a spark falling upon dead leaves. It 
 spreads like wildfire. And Camilla was not the 
 woman to keep a secret that would spread dismay. 
 In this case, her own feelings were enlisted, for 
 she had a heart, perverted though its emotions 
 were. 
 
 The visitors were a party of whom the Marquis 
 had purchased a plantation contiguous to his own, 
 many years before, with a proviso that the slaves 
 sold with it should be returned to their owner, if 
 he claimed them, at the end of twelve years, but, 
 in case he should do so, any children born in the 
 interval should remain with the Marquis. 
 
 Isabella had not known of the transaction. It 
 was one of frequent occurrence in slave commu 
 nities, and even the Marquis had not hesitated to 
 consummate the bargain, but, now the day of res 
 titution had come, he would willingly have fore 
 gone the advantages of it, to have escaped the 
 consequences. No intimation of the resumption 
 of the slaves had been given, the circumstances 
 had almost escaped his memory, when the other 
 party to the bargain appeared to claim his right. 
 The Marquis had met the carriage at some dis 
 tance from the house, and had given orders that
 
 294 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 parents and children should be sent to another 
 part of the plantation, but the servants who led 
 the mules for exchange, upon the road, not having 
 been charged with secrecy, had given the alarm, 
 and it was soon known in every direction. Par 
 ents hurried in from the field, were called from 
 the house and from the portreros ; children were 
 summoned from the chicken house for the parting, 
 for the mothers were frantic, and all were fright 
 ened. A general feeling of consternation was 
 diffused, for family relations had been formed, 
 now to be torn asunder. Pazienza, the wife of 
 Jacobo, the negro-driver, a dignified and respect 
 able negress, was godmother to nearly all the 
 younger children. She hastened to the scene of 
 the rendevous to renew her promises to take care 
 of the children, who were crying in their mother s 
 arms. Some of the best and most useful negroes 
 on the plantation were of the number called for. 
 Stout men wept to leave their young wives and 
 little ones for though no marriage relation ex 
 isted in form on the plantation, it was all the 
 same to their simple hearts. 
 
 The Marquis had walked away from the scene, 
 after those who were to be taken were assembled, 
 but Isabella and Helen hurried to the spot. A 
 few hours only were given, and they were to part 
 without hope of reunion, for they were to be con 
 veyed to a distant part of the island, and were 
 nearly all field hands. The coachman and per-
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 2Q5 
 
 sonal servants of the family are the only individu 
 als on a plantation who travel or who have a 
 chance of again meeting lost members of their 
 family. 
 
 To Helen it seemed as if the foundations of 
 things had given away. She stood aghast at the 
 spectacle, and still more so at the fact that Isa 
 bella only wept, and did not remonstrate. Caro 
 lina s frivolity was hushed for the moment, but 
 when Ludovico swore that he would leave the 
 island and never be party to such a transaction, 
 she drew him away from the place on the plea of 
 its being too painful a scene to witness, but evi 
 dently, as Helen felt, willing to bear her part in 
 it for the sake of being a wealthy planter s wife. 
 Manuel hid his face in his mother s dress, while 
 she vainly tried to bind up broken hearts by her 
 kind words and promises of care for the children. 
 It was a dark day at La Consolacion, and not even 
 the presence of the guests at dinner, among whom 
 were the gentlemen who brought all this dismay 
 and terror, could rally the spirits of the family. 
 The Marchioness was obliged to appear, but 
 Helen persisted in remaining secluded, ponder 
 ing upon the "the sum of all villanies." Could 
 slavery show a deeper woe than this ? It seemed 
 to her that it could not. Yet it was passing be 
 fore her eyes unchallenged, and, though tears and 
 sobs and bitter wailings accompanied it, not even 
 the victims remonstrated. What could be a
 
 296 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 greater proof of the tyranny that held them in 
 bonds ? No outward show of kindness could 
 avail to blind her to the conviction that the Mar 
 quis ruled with an iron hand, and she felt that she 
 could never look upon him again but with horror. 
 
 The sad procession passed the house toward 
 evening, followed by the poor children and a 
 motley assembly of negroes, who were allowed 
 to go as far as the gate, and returned \vith the 
 little ones in their arms. They were of all shades, 
 from the deep black to the golden yellow, those 
 in arms all unconscious of their coming fate, but 
 some of the older ones knowing too well what 
 their destiny was to be. 
 
 No one spoke to Pazienza on that day. She 
 saw the last of the parents and led some of the 
 little ones by the hand as she returned from the 
 gate, and Helen thought she had never seen a 
 face more expressive of grief and sympathy, and 
 the dignity of sorrow, than that of this stately 
 negress. She passed the house without turning 
 her head or making the usual salutation. 
 
 " I must find Carlito," Helen said to herself, 
 starting up. She found him lying on his little 
 tent-bed, weeping bitterly. She led him away to 
 her own room. The poor little boy knew too well 
 what it all meant, and Helen really feared that his 
 health would be impaired by his prolonged sor 
 rows. 
 
 " When I brought you into the country with
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 me, darling," she said, as he rested in her arms, 
 with his own round her neck, " I thought you 
 would have some chance to forget what had 
 pained you much at home, but when our eyes 
 are once opened to what slavery means, there is 
 always something to know that it is terrible to 
 bear ; but, Carlito, dear, this is God s world, and 
 these poor people will live forever and ever in a 
 better world than this, and be happy, and this part 
 of their lives will then seem to have been very 
 short." 
 
 " Will they live forever and forever and 
 forever ? " said the child, his voice sinking to a 
 reverent whisper, as he repeated the words. "Am 
 I going to live so long, too ? " 
 
 " Yes, darling, all of us, and we must try to be 
 good and remember that everybody belongs to 
 God s family, no matter what is the color of his 
 skin." 
 
 " And, then, are they all my brothers and sis 
 ters ? " 
 
 " Yes, and we must treat them as kindly as we 
 do the brothers and sisters that live in the house 
 with us they are all God s children." 
 
 Carlito sat up straight, and his beautiful face 
 was lighted up with something like a happy look. 
 
 "These poor people," Helen went on, "are very 
 ignorant, because nothing is taught them ; but I 
 have known very nice colored people, and once I 
 had a little class of colored children come to my
 
 298 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 house every Sunday, after church, and I used to 
 tell them stories about jood children, and show 
 them flowers and shells and every pretty thing I 
 could find, and some of them became very good 
 scholars at the school they went to, and grew up 
 into lovely characters. One of those little girls 
 lived in my mother s family when she grew up, 
 and we all loved her dearly for her goodness and 
 her kind care of my grandmother, who was very 
 old and ill, a great many such people lived in 
 the town where I did. Their grandmothers had 
 been slaves, but they were so no longer, and I 
 think the time will come when the colored people 
 in Cuba will be free, and then no one can punish 
 them or sell them." 
 
 " When I grow up, I shall have none," said 
 Carlito, " and Manuel says when he has been to 
 college he shall come back and make all his free ; 
 he has a whole plantation full that his aunt gave 
 him they are all his own, own, own," this was 
 a favorite mode of expression with Carlito when 
 he wished to be forcible, " and if any one gives 
 me any, I will come too and make mine free." 
 
 " Then you and Manuel can do a great deal of 
 good, and perhaps others will do the same when 
 they see you do it." 
 
 " Manuel says Don Andres is very kind, and his 
 dogs never hurt any one they only bark, and 
 that frightens the people enough to stop them 
 from doing wrong ; and then they love Don
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 299 
 
 Andres, too Mrs. Warwick says they do and 
 mumma Camilla says so too." 
 
 " Yes, I know they do. When so many of them 
 had the cholera last year, he came and took care 
 of them and put up huts on the driers so that 
 they should not sleep on the ground." 
 
 " Oh, do they sleep on the ground ? " 
 
 " They have a board, but that is laid on the 
 ground, and sometimes the ground is wet. They 
 have a warm blanket, too," Helen added, regret 
 ting that she had unwittingly told a fact Carlito 
 seemed not to have heard but she supposed 
 Fanchon s revelations were known to Carlito as 
 well as to others. She resolved not to forget 
 again how much time he passed in Mrs. War 
 wick s nursery, where little transpired of a painful 
 nature. She now proposed to go there, for she 
 wished to divert his mind as much as possible 
 from the horrors around him, and she passed the 
 rest of the day with the children, the only happy, 
 unconscious souls on the plantation. How short 
 a period of their lives would be thus shielded, it 
 was sad to think. 
 
 When she retired for the night, she sat long at 
 her window, with the feeling that she needed the 
 presence of the stars to reassure her that God 
 reigned over this sad world till Isabella came to 
 bid her good-night. 
 
 Helen told her friend that she must return 
 home, for her knowledge of slavery was getting
 
 3 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 to be unbearable, but Isabella begged her to re 
 main through the trial of her son s wedding, and 
 Helen was made aware that sorrow had wrought 
 great ravages upon the mother, and promised to 
 do so, whatever she might suffer for was not 
 Isabella s portion harder to bear than her own ? 
 
 Isabella s hope that Ludovico would never re 
 turn to Cuba to live after a residence in France 
 was in danger of being cut off by this unfortunate 
 alliance with his cousin. The force of circum 
 stances might be too much for his resolution ; it 
 might even prevent his forming it, and probably 
 would do so. Carolina would rush into every dis 
 sipation, which would rob travel of half its advan 
 tages, and, as for study, there would be no hope 
 of that. 
 
 Isabella had a true mother s heart, and could 
 better bear the thought of separation from her 
 children, than any deterioration of character, such 
 as she was apprehensive must ensue from living in 
 such a society as that of Cuba. That Ludovico 
 was to be absent from her had not given her the 
 pain that his probable future now gave her. Her 
 confidence in her husband s affection and fidelity 
 had kept her happy, but it was that alone which 
 reconciled her to exposing her children, even in 
 their early years, to the contamination of Cuban 
 life. Her disappointment in regard to Ludovico 
 was her first domestic sorrow. She had thought 
 herself afflicted when her kind father died (she
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 3OI 
 
 did not remember her mother) but that was a 
 natural sorrow. This was an unnatural one, and 
 Helen began to feel alarmed for her. Isabella s 
 usual quiet habits of life were entirely changed by 
 the necessity of accompanying her niece to all the 
 fiestas of the winter, where her presence was in 
 dispensable as protectress. Helen usually accom 
 panied her, but remained at home when wearied 
 in mind or body, and was always glad to be with 
 Carlito and Manuel, whom she could comfort when 
 the little girls were asleep. 
 
 Isabella had no choice, as Carolina had no 
 thought but of self. Such had been the whirl 
 of events that the friends had of late had but few 
 opportunities to enjoy hours of quiet talk, and 
 Helen became aware, for the first time, this even 
 ing, of the change that had taken place in Isabella. 
 Serious injury had been done to her health by 
 these dissipations and painful excitements, and 
 she promised not to leave her while her sympathy 
 could be any relief to her. 
 
 " I could have borne the terrible scene of to-day 
 better," said Isabella, " if I could have felt that it 
 would strengthen Ludovico in his growing dislike 
 to Cuban life ; but the strong influence that is 
 upon him now overpowers every other considera 
 tion, and I fear he will steel himself against it. I 
 have not seen my husband yet, but I cannot con 
 ceal from him that this new experience goes far 
 to disgust me with life here. I wish we might all
 
 3O2 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 be released from it, and accompany Ludovico 
 abroad. I do not know but what my life will 
 depend upon it. I knew that these things were 
 done, but it was never brought home to me be 
 fore. How little we realize the woes of others by 
 imagining them ! I have just left Manuel, who 
 has been frantic with grief till he fell asleep ex 
 hausted. Mrs. Warwick was so fortunate as to 
 keep the little girls from much knowledge of this 
 sad affair, but I do not know whether it can be 
 kept wholly from them." 
 
 " You need rest now, dearest ; lie down with 
 me, will you not ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, dear Helen ; I must go to my hus 
 band. I know he dreads to meet me, but I 
 will bid you good-night now, and we will hope 
 that this will do somebody good. It may soften a 
 hard heart." 
 
 Helen shared the hope, but had no confidence 
 that Carolina would be softened. Selfish frivolity 
 is the most hopeless form of the demon that lies 
 perdu in the human heart. 
 
 Her fears proved but too well founded. The 
 neighborhood rang for many days with the praises 
 of the Countess of Lopez fiesta, and Carolina was 
 duly pitied for not having assisted in it. The 
 disappointment was so bitter a one that from 
 that time her defiance of authority was almost 
 open. Nothing restrained her but the fear of los 
 ing that opportunity of independence which her
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 33 
 
 marriage would give her. Ludovico was the only 
 one who did not feel the revolt keenly, and antici 
 pate the consequences when she should be released 
 from the thraldom of maidenhood. 
 
 The men who had carried away so many slaves 
 had brought with them four stalwart young men, 
 bound hand to hand and foot to foot with iron 
 chains whom they had met on the way, in a 
 coffle of slaves just brought from the city into the 
 country for sale. By offering an advance price, 
 the Marquis purchased these men, to take the place 
 of some of those about to leave the plantation. 
 They had been but a year in the island, and were 
 evidently of a tribe superior to many who are 
 brought from the African coast. There were 
 too many opportunities of knowledge of escape in 
 the city, and a trader had brought them into the 
 rural districts, with more of their kind, to be dis 
 posed of upon the plantations. These were the 
 last of the gang, the rest having been taken on 
 the way. They were silent witnesses of the heart 
 rending scene of the day. They were left all 
 night chained together on the piazza of the hos 
 pital, because no one was at leisure to attend to 
 them. Some negroes visited them, carried them 
 oranges, took them by the hand, and spoke the 
 words of their native dialects, lest perchance they 
 should have come from their distant homes. The 
 Marchioness saw them as she returned from her 
 visit to the afflicted group, and ordered them
 
 304 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 nourishing food, and inquired if any one had 
 recognized them as countrymen, but apparently no 
 one had done so. She did not know till the 
 next day that neither the food she had ordered, 
 nor the shelter of a cabin, was afforded them dur 
 ing the night ; but Manuel brought in the informa 
 tion, from his morning ride, that they were still 
 on the piazza, chained together, and must have 
 been very uncomfortable. The Marquis ordered 
 their release, and they were immediately sent into 
 the field ; for the important point in their case 
 was to "break their spirits." When night came 
 round again, they were assigned to their sleeping- 
 places, and, after the evening roll was called, were 
 locked into their cabins like their fellows. At 
 midnight, the family was disturbed by the noise of 
 horses feet, which alarmed Helen, as it was an 
 unusual sound. She refrained from asking an 
 explanation in the morning, for Isabella s sake, 
 and she remembered to have heard the duties of 
 the night-guard explained as watchers of the 
 horses, which are tethered to the lawn in that 
 hot climate, instead of being shut up in close 
 stables. But mumma Camilla never let any one 
 suffer from ignorance, and when Helen took her 
 early walk on the piazza, she found her sauntering 
 there, with her arms folded and a handkerchief over 
 her head, the very picture of disconsolate \voe. 
 Her theatrical airs were well understood by this 
 time by her new victim, but yet Helen knew that
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 305 
 
 the part was played not to hide, but to reveal, 
 some tragedy that might elicit an exclamation of 
 pity from her. 
 
 " Toothache, mumma Camilla? " she said, kindly. 
 
 " No, lady no poor boy poor boy new 
 hand just out of the woods don t know how 
 to be a slave caught, lady, caught in the 
 hospital all over poor boy poor boy." 
 
 " It is a shame to worry you, Miss Helen," said 
 -Mrs. Warwick, opening her door ; " that old thing 
 can never keep anything to herself." 
 
 " What is it ? " said Helen, faintly, fearing to 
 hear. 
 
 " One of those new hands got away last night 
 nobody knows how perhaps his mate an 
 swered for him in the cabin when Urbano went 
 round and called out their names. They did not 
 know it till just before bed-time, but they found 
 him before morning he was several miles away." 
 
 " And what was done ? " 
 
 "Oh, there is no punishment like the one for 
 that. I should have tried to beg him off he was 
 so new and so young and perhaps I could have 
 done it, if the old overseer had been there, and 
 when they do whip here, they always do it 
 thoroughly ; they say it only makes them worse to 
 hurt them a little." 
 
 " Do not tell me any more, now," said Helen, 
 gasping for breath ; and she retreated to her own 
 room.
 
 306 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 " Papa," exclaimed Manuel at the breakfast- 
 table, " I think it was too bad to whip that bozal 
 for running away. I would if I 
 
 " My son, do not speak of what you do not 
 understand the people must not run away." 
 
 There was something in his father s manner 
 that silenced Manuel ; but he followed his mother 
 to her room, and they wept together over the sad 
 necessity. 
 
 God s sun shines upon the just and the unjust. 
 Helen felt, when she looked abroad on the festal 
 world of that fair clime, that only in such lands 
 could this crying sin exist that in her own 
 wintry one, where man is condemned to pass 
 many of his days shut up in houses, and where 
 inclement seasons bring their own peculiar suf 
 fering, this one added to the rest would be more 
 than poor human nature could bear, even among 
 the spectators and perpetrators of the iniquity. 
 But in that glorious earth, where the very air is 
 music, and where the great mother pours out 
 from her full bosom such wonders of vegetable 
 and animal life, one can never for a moment forget 
 that God lives and reigns, and that one day or 
 other this great wrong will be righted, because he 
 lives and reigns. 
 
 " Now you are here, clear Helen, and all these 
 sad things come before us, and I see them through 
 your eyes, I am aware how I have comforted my 
 self with the degrees of more and less iniquity.
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 37 
 
 When I think of some of the neighboring planta 
 tions, where cruelty is the rule, and I had 
 almost said, there are no exceptions, I think how 
 fortunate I am indeed, we have been blest with 
 a steady discipline and many ameliorations till 
 now. It is not only that I see it all with your eyes, 
 but this cruel man has made everything different 
 from what it used to be. If the former overseer 
 had been here, he would have taken every pre 
 caution to soften the prospect of bondage to those 
 poor fellows, who looked so wild and untamed 
 yesterday that my heart foreboded evil for them. 
 Don Andres who sometimes comes over to help, 
 was not here perhaps he stayed away on pur 
 pose. I suspected Tono yesterday of being able to 
 make those boys understand him, for I saw some 
 muttering went on between them. I did not ask 
 Tono if he could understand them, and now he 
 would doubtless deny it, even if he did but I am 
 afraid he put dismay into their hearts." 
 
 " And they saw those poor fathers and mothers 
 taking leave of their children," said Helen. 
 
 " Ah, yes ; Helen, that is as new a feature of 
 slavery to me as to you I mean that I never saw 
 it done before, although I knew it was clone 
 but I never supposed it would be done in my 
 home. You can no longer have any respect 
 for us." 
 
 "I love and respect you, my darling I know 
 you cannot help it."
 
 308 PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 11 1 have often thought," resumed Isabella, after a 
 long silence, in which both she and Helen realized 
 that the love and respect could extend no farther, 
 " that this island would be a good place on which 
 to begin a system of gradual emancipation for 
 the children of the plantations might be bound 
 out to the farmers of the mountains, who are not 
 slave-holders, and taught not only to work, but to 
 live like civilized beings and thus the slaves 
 might be fitted to be hired out as free laborers. 
 It could be done if the Spaniards could conceive 
 of such a thing as innovation. I have an uncle 
 who was not made for a slaveholder, and whose 
 plantation is a perfect scene of confusion and 
 waste, and whose wealth is wearing away, because 
 he cannot fall in with the views of discipline and 
 service generally adopted." 
 
 "Will you explain a little ?" said Helen. 
 
 " He is very lax in discipline, because he is so 
 tender-hearted and, as no other motives are put 
 before his people, they, of course, take advantage 
 of his leniency, and are idle, and troublesome to all 
 the country round. He would gladly co-operate 
 with others, I doubt not, in turning his slaves into 
 freemen, if others would do it also, but he would 
 lose caste to do it alcne, so he contents himself 
 with giving freedom to favorites who become part 
 of his household and live in perfect idleness. Do 
 you remember those tall, bedizened women you 
 saw walking about when we called the other day ?
 
 PARTED FAMILIES. 39 
 
 You remarked upon their appearance. Those 
 women are the daughters of an old servant, who, 
 with his family, received his freedom many years 
 since. Old Tomas still waits upon his master, but 
 never has an eye for any one else one may in 
 vain nod at him to take one s plate he sees no 
 plate but his master s. Each of his three daugh 
 ters owns a pony, and rides about where she likes. 
 They all, father and children, dress better than 
 their master s family. The women embroider 
 muslin beautifully, which they sell to the pedlers, 
 and, as they have no cares, they are truly the 
 greatest ladies in the land. Their children are all 
 free, and I sometimes think they may inherit the 
 whole estate. My uncle has no foresight ; he is 
 very wealthy now, but by and by his children 
 will begin to mortgage the patrimony, and the 
 family wealth must run out. Estates here become 
 encumbered with debts, which run for many years, 
 till at last some terrible crash comes, or, more prob 
 ably, some alliance is formed which patches things 
 up for another generation." 
 
 " Are not these lands very productive ? " asked 
 Helen. 
 
 " Wonderfully so, if well taken care of, but there 
 is very little science in the cultivation. My hus 
 band applies a little to the renewing of his lands, 
 and makes them twice as productive as most other 
 
 planters do. The B s from the United States 
 
 are introducing steam-engines in their sugar-mills,
 
 3IO PARTED FAMILIES. 
 
 and are growing fabulously wealthy, because their 
 people are thus released to cultivate new and 
 more extensive estates. They bring all their Yan 
 kee shrewdness to bear upon their fortunes. I 
 wish I could say they were as peculiar for their 
 humanity, but it is not the poor people that get 
 the benefit of their improvements."
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 DON ANDRES. 
 
 "MAMA! mama!" said Ludovico one morning 
 as he sprang from his horse and ran up the steps, 
 " Don Andres has returned and has consented 
 to come ! Is not that joyful ? " 
 
 " It is indeed," replied the Marchioness. " I 
 did not expect it." 
 
 Helen looked inquiringly. 
 
 " Don Andres is a character you do not yet 
 know, dear Helen, and you will know how to re 
 joice with us when I tell you his history. He has 
 consented to be our overseer, and it is such a 
 relief that " 
 
 And Isabella burst into tears. 
 
 " It does me good to cry this time, so do not 
 look troubled," she explained. 
 
 The Marquis, at that moment, rode up to the 
 door, accompanied by another Spaniard, with a fine, 
 open countenance, who alighted and paid his 
 respects to the ladies with much courtesy, but 
 with fewer flourishes than characterized some of 
 the guests whom Helen had seen. 
 
 3"
 
 3 12 DO-Y AX ORES. 
 
 "Don Andres has consented to come," said the 
 Marquis, cheerfully, "and I hope you will feel hap 
 pier, Bellita." 
 
 " I do indeed," she replied. 
 
 The gentlemen passed on to the Marquis apart 
 ments. 
 
 "Do tell us all about him, dear aunt," said Caro 
 lina. " I like his looks very much I hope there 
 is something romantic about him." 
 
 " His history may be truly called romantic in 
 the best sense of that word, for he is poetical in 
 his goodness." 
 
 " Mama ! mama ! Don Andres is here," vocifer 
 ated Manuel, trotting through the salon on one of 
 his reed horses. " I am going to tell Mrs. War 
 wick ! " and he scampered across the gallery, and 
 disappeared in the nursery. 
 
 " How strange it is that we have heard nothing 
 about Don Andres before," said Carolina " mum- 
 ma Camilla will come next." 
 
 " Here she is," said Ludovico. 
 
 " Ah ! my lady ! Ave, sanctissima. Don Andres 
 here ! come back ! Muchas grazias ! Don 
 Andres ! my lady ! " 
 
 "Yes, I know he is come," said Isabella, "and 
 I am very glad. It is not likely she knows of his 
 coming here, however." 
 
 Camilla took up her tray of sweetmeats, which 
 she had deposited on a table for a moment, and 
 went into her pantry.
 
 DON ANDRES. 3 r 3 
 
 " Now for Don Andres, auntie dear, before any 
 one else comes." 
 
 " Don Andres came from the island of Majorca," 
 said the Marchioness, "to make his fortune in 
 Cuba. No one knows his private history. Some 
 people think he is Basque, and I am inclined to be 
 of that opinion, for the Basques are all educated 
 men, especially in an artistic direction. It is said 
 every Basque child is taught to draw, and Don 
 Andres is a superior draughtsman, and has genius 
 for architecture. But the Majorcans speak all the 
 languages of the Mediterranean shores, and he is 
 versed in these. 
 
 "On his way he was shipwrecked, and lost all his 
 effects but the letters on his person, one of which 
 was to our old blind neighbor who died a short 
 time ago." 
 
 "The man who cried himself to death?" asked 
 Carolina. 
 
 " Yes ; he was the kindest old man in the 
 world, and showed every attention to Don Andres 
 lent him money to commence his profession 
 here, which is that of an architect, and gave him 
 a home until he became independent in it. Don 
 Andres built many of the beautiful gateways and 
 porter s-lodges that you have admired so much, 
 and many fine houses also, and was highly re 
 spected by every one for his character and good 
 judgment and benevolence. Wherever there is 
 misfortune, he is always there. Even when the,
 
 DON ANDRES. 
 
 cholera raged here among the negroes, he at 
 tached himself to a skilful physician of this dis 
 trict, and carried through sanitary regulations on 
 many plantations, which saved much life and 
 much suffering ; so that he is idolized by the 
 people as well as by their masters. He is a man 
 of education and taste, and his name is another 
 word for honor." 
 
 " Heaven bless him ! " ejaculated Helen. 
 
 "Take care that you are not jealous, Ludo- 
 vico," said Carolina. 
 
 " The better you like him, the better I shall like 
 you," Ludovico replied. 
 
 " Our poor old neighbor suddenly lost all his 
 property, by putting his name on his brother s 
 notes. The brother was a bad man, and ruined 
 all his family as well as himself by his extrava 
 gance, and had to flee from his creditors. All 
 the negroes of our poor neighbor were sold except 
 fifteen, who belonged to his wife ; all his coffee 
 was taken from his packing-house ; his wife died 
 of grief ; his two daughters were perfectly help 
 less in their poverty, and then Don Andres Torres 
 showed what he was. He came to them, dis 
 missed their overseer, took charge of the family, 
 and has supported them ever since, by cultivating 
 a little patch of coffee and vegetables for family 
 use, with the help of the few negroes ; by work 
 ing at .his profession a little, when he had time; 
 and by being the conduit through, which the chari-
 
 DON ANDRES. 315 
 
 ties of the neighborhood have passed into the 
 good old man s family. They never ask where 
 anything comes from. They do not know enough 
 about affairs to know that he cannot obtain all 
 they need from the plantation, and he makes it 
 appear that he can do so. The poor old man 
 cried himself blind. He was quite infirm when 
 his misfortunes came upon him, and has passed 
 his time for several years in alternate weeping 
 and praying, while Don Andres has told him all 
 things were going on nicely, and that he was 
 happy to requite his former kindness by acting 
 the part of a son to him. 
 
 " My husband knew that Don Andres means 
 were running low, and he purposes to pay him 
 such a salary that he can hire some one to take 
 care of the small corner of the plantation by which 
 the daily wants of the family are supplied, and lay 
 up something for himself also. I was afraid he 
 would not think it possible to leave his old friend, 
 but it is easier to do so now the old man is gone, 
 and, as he will still be in the neighborhood, he 
 will constantly visit the ladies and superintend 
 their affairs. He has probably found a substitute 
 for the labors he performed already. We are 
 indeed fortunate. Don Andres has been an hon 
 ored guest everywhere." 
 
 "Which shows," said Ludovico, "that, even 
 among us, virtue is honored, if it is real virtue. I 
 hope Don Andres will make you think rather
 
 DON ANDRES. 
 
 better of us, Miss Wentworth. Mama, we will 
 go out when the roll is called this evening, and 
 see how glad the people will look. It has made 
 me melancholy to look at them since that wretch 
 was here." 
 
 The ladies from the plantation of Don Tomas, 
 as the old blind planter had been familiarly called, 
 were sent for to dinner, and Helen realized for 
 the first time what is the life of a country lady 
 of moderate means on the plantations of Cuba. 
 These ladies were somewhat advanced in life, and 
 for many years had not been able to afford visits 
 to the city. They were wholly uncultivated and 
 very uninteresting, and the only variety in their 
 monotonous lives was to stand at the gate of their 
 avenue and look at the passers-by. If they had 
 been younger, they would not have dared to do it, 
 for a lady seen in a forbidden place at once loses 
 character in Cuba ; but the misfortunes of their 
 good old father had created quite a sympathy in 
 the neighborhood, as the circumstances under 
 which they occurred were well known, and the 
 high character and popularity of Don Andres 
 Torres had thrown a sort of consecrated charm 
 even over their mediocrity. 
 
 Helen listened to their prattle about the equi 
 pages they had seen and counted during the holi 
 days, the fiestas they had heard described by 
 friends who had been so fortunate as to attend 
 them, while they were watching by the dying-bed
 
 DON ANDRES. 3 1 / 
 
 of their good father ; of his virtues and sufferings, 
 and the kind things that every one had said of 
 him since his death ; of Don Andres brotherly 
 goodness and kind management of their few 
 remaining negroes, and their sorrow even at a 
 nominal parting with him, but their joy that he 
 was to be so near. And it all had a certain musi 
 cal flow to Helen s ear, which had listened so 
 long to tales of woe that a story of poetic good 
 ness bore healing on its wings, especially in that 
 most musical of all languages. Nor was her sub 
 sequent acquaintance with Don Andres any dis 
 appointment. 
 
 At the evening roll-call the family went over to 
 the gallery of the overseer s house, before which 
 "the people" were ranged, and every one an 
 swered to his or her name with a cheerful voice 
 and beaming face, for the Marquis had announced 
 that Don Andres had come to rule over them. 
 Encouragement and protection were in the very 
 tones of his loud yet musical voice, and the people 
 well remembered his kind ministrations when the 
 fearful epidemic of the year before had prostrated 
 them by hundreds. 
 
 From the overseer s house it was but a step to 
 the hospital, and there Helen who accompanied 
 Don Andres and her friend to see poor Pedro 
 was convinced at the first glance that her conjec 
 ture had been a true one. Don Andres laid his 
 hand kindly upon the head of the poor negro,
 
 DON ANDRES. 
 
 who was lying on a blanket spread over a board, 
 but enjoying the almost unheard-of luxury of a 
 soft pillow, which Isabella had insisted upon at 
 her first visit. It was a decided innovation, to 
 which her husband had at first objected (for 
 billets of wood are the only pillows usually 
 allowed), because it will not answer to make the 
 hospital too desirable an abode. Its friendly rest 
 and nicer food were already too great an attrac 
 tion ; but it did not occur to Helen that there was 
 any great luxury in being there when she saw the 
 emaciated form of poor Pedro, and imagined the 
 discomfort of his bare bones, without even a pallet 
 of straw under them ! She inquired the use of 
 one structure that stood in a corner, and was told 
 it was the stocks. It looked to her like a gallows, 
 and she saw that the victim must lie on his back 
 upon the floor, while his feet were fastened into 
 the opening made for them, and without the pos 
 sibility of turning over. She stood a moment 
 transfixed before it, and when she again met 
 Isabella s eye, everything swam before her vision. 
 She did not know what was passing around her 
 again till she found herself supported by the arm 
 of Don Andres in the open air. 
 
 "You must hold your eyes in this country, 
 lady," said the good man, in a low voice. 
 
 Isabella had seen the look in Helen s face and 
 understood it, and it was reflected in her own 
 heart ; but she lingered a moment to speak an-
 
 DON ANDRES. 3*9 
 
 other kind word to Pedro, in hopes that she 
 should not be obliged to recognize it. 
 
 Dolores was not forgotten, and the two ladies 
 accompanied Don Andres to her cabin. He at 
 once advised her removal to the hospital, where 
 he could oversee her more easily ; and Helen saw 
 her spring from her hard board bed when Urbano 
 whom they had taken as interpreter made 
 her understand the order. 
 
 Dolores knew very well that Pedro was still in 
 the hospital, and Helen understood the alacrity 
 with which she rose to go. Her haggard looks 
 were sad to see. Helen hoped something might 
 be done to prevent a final separation from Pedro, 
 and resolved to make Don Andres a party to her 
 knowledge of their circumstances, when a good 
 opportunity offered. But she knew that Pedro 
 was left to the tender mercies of Don Ermite, for 
 the result of his brothers conference with Don 
 Alfonso was the requisition of a fine, which sent 
 them all to their mountain home penniless, if 
 they persisted in rescuing their brother from the 
 grip of the cruel planter, which they concluded 
 to do even at that price. Don Alfonso had failed 
 to draw the Marquis into the plot, and, seeing the 
 family feeling of Don Ermite s brothers, had used 
 it to their destruction and his own gain. 
 
 No one knew when Pedro would be sent for, 
 and he did not yet know what his fate was to be. 
 
 It was not long before Helen found the oppor-
 
 32O DO A 7 ANDRES. 
 
 tunity she desired. Don Andres was always a 
 welcome guest in the family, which was quite an 
 anomaly in that society, for the position of an 
 overseer is uniformly a subordinate one. Don 
 Andres character was the sole cause of the 
 exception. He was a man of varied information 
 and experience, and much knowledge of the world, 
 and made himself agreeable to young and old. 
 
 One evening, when pacing the gallery, and en 
 gaged in conversation with him, Helen took an 
 opportunity to tell him the history of Dolores and 
 Pedro, as far as she knew it, and he was deeply 
 interested. She also told him that Pope Urban 
 was a countryman of theirs, and Don Andres 
 promised to draw from him some particulars of 
 their history, and, if possible, interpose to pre 
 vent their separation. But he gave her little hope 
 of success. The Marquis would not choose to 
 buy him for the same reasons that he had avoided 
 giving him aid when wounded. From time to 
 time, Don Andres spoke with her upon the sub 
 ject, and her respect for him increased as she saw 
 proofs of his humanity. 
 
 One day Isabella startled her by saying in a 
 playful way : 
 
 " My dear Helen, you must not indulge Don 
 Andres in walking apart with him, even on the 
 piazza.. I heard Camilla say to Urbano that Don 
 Andres was going to marry the Americana. We 
 have to be very circumspect before our critics,
 
 DON ANDRES. 321 
 
 who judge us very severely, though they have 
 another code of right for themselves. Seriously, 
 too, I fear the good man will make himself un 
 happy about you. You show your regard for him 
 very plainly." 
 
 " And I feel it," said Helen, " but I will take 
 your warning both as a matter of propriety before 
 these sable critics, who, you say, are the scandal 
 mongers of your society, and still more if there is 
 any danger of Don Andres misunderstanding my 
 regard for him. But I do not think there is, dear 
 Isabella." 
 
 " I hope there may not be, but you do not know 
 how interesting you are, and, much as you might 
 esteem Don Andres, and much as we all esteem 
 him, the influence of caste is such that he could 
 not marry into our circle without scandal to 
 us." 
 
 " I would not be influenced by that motive in 
 my own case, I assure you, for Don Andres is not 
 bound to this soil by any ties of preference, or by 
 any affinity of taste with your institutions. I 
 know that from himself, for our conversation has 
 been chiefly upon that subject, when you have 
 seen us talking apart. I promise you not to trifle 
 with his heart you know I would not do it." 
 
 " Yes, I do know it, darling, and therefore I 
 speak frankly. I really believe he is attracted to 
 you, but he is a man of too much honor to ask 
 you to share his fortunes, and so I must take care
 
 3 22 DON ANDRES. 
 
 of him," she added, laughing. "Do not look so 
 grave, dear Helen. You are not hurt with me ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, Isabella not in the least ; I am only 
 thinking how sad it is that such a man should be 
 in such a position. He is very noble, and I will 
 be as careful of him as you wish. If I were 
 younger and more susceptible, I do not know but 
 my enthusiasm for Don Andres might endanger 
 me, and my views of caste are so very indepen 
 dent that I probably should not be influenced by 
 any such considerations as those you refer to. 
 With us, you know, any man may take any 
 position in society, if he fits himself for it by edu 
 cation and character. I have often thought we 
 Americans do not live up to the theory of our 
 society as we ought, but since I have looked back 
 to my own country from this, I appreciate, as I 
 never could before, its advanced position." 
 
 " You are right, dear. Such a state of society 
 as yours is worthy of envy. I only wish my chil 
 dren could grow up in it." 
 
 " Will you not lend me one of your little girls 
 when I leave you, dear Isabella ? " 
 
 " Ah, can I do it, Helen ? I will try to be as 
 good a mother as that. But my heart is too sore, 
 just now, to dwell upon it." 
 
 Helen was aware of this, and said no more.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 TULITA. 
 
 " WHOSE splendid livery and carriage is that ? " 
 exclaimed Carolina, one afternoon, as the family 
 were sitting on the piazza. 
 
 " It is the Countess of Lopez ," said Ludovico, 
 "but I do not know the young lady she has 
 brought." 
 
 " It is Tulita Abrides," said Helen. 
 
 The next moment the superb equipage, with its 
 outriders, dashed up to the steps ; Ludovico de 
 scended to meet the ladies. 
 
 The shameless woman, with unblushing face, 
 greeted the Marchioness as if on terms of cour 
 teous friendship. 
 
 " I know this is not etiquette, la Marquesa, for 
 you did not come to my fiesta, and have not been 
 to see me since. But our little friend, here, was 
 so eager to come to you that I waived all cere 
 mony. And these are your American friends, 
 whom I so much wished to see " and the Count 
 ess welcomed the ladies to Cuba with all the grace 
 in the world. 
 
 The Marchioness was coolly civil to her, but 
 affectionate to Tulita, whom she begged the 
 
 3 2 3
 
 3 2 4 TULITA. 
 
 Countess to leave with her for a few days, promis 
 ing to send her safely back. After a little parley, 
 this was agreed to, and, with the usual Spanish 
 blessings and courtesies, the visit passed, and the 
 imposing lady was whirled away again. 
 
 " She is gloriously beautiful ! " exclaimed Caro 
 lina. 
 
 " And so kind to me ! " said Tulita. " I wish you 
 had come to the fiesta ; it was magnificent. Dear 
 Miss Wentworth, how pleasant it is to see you 
 again, and my darling Carlito." 
 
 " How long have you been in the country, Tu 
 lita ? " inquired the Marchioness. 
 
 " Several weeks. Papa brought me up to the 
 fiesta, and left me for a visit. I shall soon return, 
 but I could not go home without seeing you, and 
 I teased the Countess till she brought me here." 
 
 Isabella s heart ached to see the child of an old 
 friend in such society, and she wondered at it as 
 much as she grieved. But Helen observed that 
 Tulita was not as blooming as when she had seen 
 her last. 
 
 "Why did you not come to me, my dear," said 
 the Marchioness, " if you needed country air. I 
 begged your mother to send you at any time." 
 
 " Oh ! mama said you were expecting guests 
 from the States, and you know the Countess is an 
 old friend of papa s." 
 
 Isabella knew it too well, but she did not know 
 Don Miguel s reasons for sending Tulita away 
 from home.
 
 TULITA. 3 2 S 
 
 I was about to say it is difficult for an American 
 to realize the desire for a title, in a land of titles. 
 I can only say, however, that I wish it was diffi 
 cult for an American to realize it, but there are 
 too many proofs that even in our democratic land 
 there is too much worship of privileged castes, and 
 too much low aspiration for emulating them. In 
 England, this tendency shows itself in servility to 
 the aristocratic class. In Cuba it is a raging 
 passion. In Cuba, the " sugar nobility," as it is 
 called, is very numerous. This nickname takes 
 its rise in the fact that it is easy for any man who 
 is sufficiently wealthy to buy a title, and as the 
 sugar estates cannot be taken for debt, the sugar- 
 planters soon acquire great possessions, which are 
 carefully hoarded till they can buy a Marquisate. 
 Such usurpers of rank are looked down upon by 
 the hereditary nobility, who are called, par excel 
 lence, Castilians, but it is necessary to inquire into 
 pedigree to know who people are. This consum 
 ing passion also leads many young ladies to marry 
 worthless men, while at the same time poor young 
 nobles will marry untitled women if they are 
 wealthy, to replenish exhausted coffers and keep 
 up the patrimonies they must otherwise cease to 
 enjoy, for coffee estates can be seized for debt, 
 and, when these are secured by civil processes of 
 law, the coffee can be. seized at the very door. 
 
 Don Miguel Arbrides had married a lovely orphan 
 girl, of a noble family, which he had aided, in the
 
 TULITA. 
 
 hour of need, for this price. The lady did not 
 know his avocation of slaver when she consented 
 to be his wife, for the knowledge of it had been 
 carefully concealed from her by her heartless rela 
 tives, and his personal attractions were such that 
 he won her heart as well as her hand. It was not 
 an honored alliance in the eyes of the best por 
 tion of Cuban society, and the Marchioness, among 
 others, had deplored the sacrifice, for Lucia Salvo 
 was the daughter of her mother s friend. Yet 
 such are the compromises of a corrupt society that, 
 as long as Don Miguel was wealthy, he was ad 
 mitted to titled houses, on the score of his wife s 
 rank. 
 
 The prostitution of marriage must always be 
 in the ratio of the estimation of character in a 
 community. Holy and honored marriage ranks 
 first among the ameliorations of society : its 
 abuse is the first of calamities that can befall it. 
 
 Don Miguel s ambition now was to marry his 
 daughter to a title, and he had therefore encour 
 aged her acquaintance with the young Count of 
 Carova, who was high-born, dissipated, and poor, 
 but whom he despised. 
 
 The Countess of Lopez was one of the acquaint 
 ances of the young count, and her father had 
 insisted that Tulita should accept the invitation 
 the Countess had been petitioned by her youthful 
 protege to give. The Countess was a useful 
 friend to the young nobleman because she af-
 
 TULITA. 327 
 
 forded him an opportunity of gambling to advan 
 tage, and sometimes even lost at play herself, but 
 perhaps the latter was one of her artifices to en 
 trap the unwary. 
 
 Tulita s mother would fain have saved her 
 daughter from the visit, but Don Miguel was 
 imperative. 
 
 The visit had not been a happy one. Tulita 
 was a good girl. She had been cherished by a 
 careful mother, whose early life of dependence 
 upon unwilling relatives had given her more 
 knowledge of life bereft of its illusions than falls 
 to the lot of most girls of her rank, and her pres 
 ent life was clouded by the fear that her only son 
 would be made to follow a calling which she could 
 not think humane or respectable. 
 
 The Countess of Lopez was not a proper guar 
 dian for a young girl, even on a visit of a few 
 weeks, and the Count of Carova passed too many 
 hours in card-playing, and paid attention to too 
 many ladies of higher rank than Tulita, to allow 
 her to feel satisfied that she possessed his affec 
 tions. Her maiden delicacy had been alarmed at 
 the thought that he had flattered her with atten 
 tions only because her father was wealthy, and 
 that he might at any moment withdraw them if 
 he could charm a titled and at the same time a 
 rich wife. She had hoped the Marchioness of 
 Rodriguez would keep her to while away the few 
 days that would pass before her father should 
 come or send for her.
 
 328 TUL1TA. 
 
 Tulita and Carolina soon became as intimate as 
 young and inexperienced girls can be in a few 
 days. Carolina was thankful to learn more and 
 more of the pleasures to be found in such a self- 
 indulgent person as the Countess of Lopez, and 
 secretly resolved, more and more, to share such 
 pleasures when she should become her own mis 
 tress. 
 
 Tulita had never before heard the reports that 
 had damaged the Countess character, and indig- 
 
 o o 
 
 nantly defended her, with the impetuosity of gen 
 erous youth. 
 
 " I will not believe it, either," said Carolina, 
 " until it is proved. She is too beautiful and 
 splendid to be so wicked." 
 
 "And everyone loves her so dearly," insisted 
 Tulita. 
 
 The Marchioness sighed, but did not think it 
 best to excite Carolina s opposition farther. Lu- 
 dovico walked away. 
 
 Carolina did not let him go unmolested. She 
 skipped after him, and, seizing him by the hands, 
 made him waltz down the piazza with her, ex 
 claiming : 
 
 "Come, Ludo, as I must not touch any gentle 
 man but you, you must dance or sing whenever I 
 wish you to." 
 
 And away they whirled, and reappeared at the 
 opposite door of the salon a few moments after. 
 
 " Heigh-ho ! I am all out of breath, and you are
 
 TULITA. 329 
 
 more tired than I am, Ludo. What a dance I ll 
 lead you when " 
 
 The sentence was cut short by the appearance 
 of the Marquis, whom Carolina was afraid to 
 offend. . . . 
 
 "There is one thing we might do while Tulita 
 is here," said Carolina, one day, "and that is to 
 have some tableaux-vivants, for Tulita is a bru 
 nette and I am a blonde, and we could have some 
 lovely pictures. I do not believe these Spaniards 
 ever saw or heard of any, and they would not 
 know who Rebecca the Jewess and the Lady 
 Rowena are, but I have appeared more than once 
 in that picture, and would not they open their 
 eyes to see us ? We might even get some ideas 
 into their empty brains. Miss Wentworth, you 
 have seen tableaux-vivants, have you not ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes; it is a very pretty amusement, and I 
 am sure there is enough artistic taste in this house 
 to make very fine ones." 
 
 Carolina was quite wild with the idea, and the 
 Marchioness giving her consent, for she was but 
 too glad to have amusements at home, instead of 
 seeking them in dangerous places, it was decided 
 to have some now the regular holidays were past. 
 Nothing must interfere with the balls or dances. 
 
 Helen found Ludovico had read Scott s novels, 
 and there was no better quarry for tableaux-vivants. 
 The Lady Rowena and the Jewess Rebecca would 
 make a beautiful picture, and the Marchioness 
 promised to hunt up the materials.
 
 33 TULITA. 
 
 The games of society in Cuba are usually the 
 most trivial, childish plays, involving forfeits and 
 all the excitement of redeeming them. Tableaux- 
 vivants are a great resource in the best society, 
 and artists are needed to make them good. 
 
 The chief difficulty was how to light them up ; 
 candles are the only means of lighting houses 
 here. It was decided to set Tom to work to 
 make a frame in which several hundred candles 
 could stand, and the picture frame was formed in 
 one of the great folding doors that led from the 
 salon to the studio. Black cloth filled up the 
 space encircling the frame, and black lace 
 stretched across the opening gave the softening 
 effect to the figures. Helen had often assisted at 
 this pretty amusement, and was glad to introduce 
 something a little more intellectual than usual. 
 The interview between Rowena and Rebecca the 
 Jewess made a fine show of the two beautiful 
 girls, and many a Spaniard resolved on the spot 
 to study English, in order to read the beautiful 
 story whose outline the Marchioness indicated in 
 a few words. The lovely children were utilized 
 also, and children are so dramatic in their own 
 plays that they readily fell into Helen s plans in 
 this pretty play, quite unconscious what an un 
 wonted display they were making of themselves. 
 
 There were strangers present at some of these 
 tableaux, who had seen them arranged in the 
 States and in Europe, with the most costly appli-
 
 TULITA. 331 
 
 ances, and who said they had never seen a more 
 artistic display, and with so few materials. A few 
 rules observed in the construction gave all the 
 effects of good paintings. The three prime colors 
 must enter into every picture. Helen did not for 
 get this, and Juanita s native genius for coloring 
 knew where to apply the rule. A scarf of pure 
 color thrown across a table or couch, Helen s 
 maroon riding-habit, and an ancient blue satin 
 skirt did much duty on these occasions, and every 
 one was enchanted. Carolina usurped all the 
 glory, for it was her suggestion, but the skill of 
 true artists produced the effects which she could 
 not have done. 
 
 " The proper tableaux for Spanish people should 
 be taken from Don Quixote s adventures and 
 experiences," Ludovico remarked to Helen. " It 
 is the only literature people here know. Can t 
 you make some tableaux from the pictures that 
 illustrate the work ? I think they would set the 
 Spaniards quite wild." 
 
 " If you and Don Pepe will be the subjects of 
 my pictures, I will try my best," said Miss Went- 
 worth. 
 
 The audience was at home in Don Quixote, and 
 so much were they excited when Pepe personated 
 the knight of La Mancha doing penance on the 
 Sierra Morena, that they could scarcely preserve 
 that peculiar decorum which pervades a crowd in 
 Spanish society on public occasions. Pepe s tall,
 
 332 TULITA. 
 
 lank figure, clad in appropriate garments, or per 
 haps some might say want of garments, excited 
 inexhaustible merriment. Pepe little realized how 
 he appropriated to himself the sobriquet of Don 
 Quixote for the forever of this world ; and the 
 repetition was called for on every occasion of 
 tableaux. Even the Spanish women understood 
 these tableaux. 
 
 " If you have ever observed Spanish conversa 
 tion much," said the Marchioness, one clay, "you 
 will recognize the proverbs from Don Quixote in 
 their every-day talk, for the style is to illustrate 
 all they say with a proverb from Don Quixote." 
 
 " I am not sufficiently conversant with the 
 work," said Helen, "to have understood the 
 source of those sententious remarks. I have 
 credited them as original with their utterers." 
 
 Carolina s curiosity was much stimulated by 
 this suggestion, and, as Don Quixote lies on every 
 one s table in Cuba, she soon made herself ac 
 quainted with many of its witty sayings, and Pepe 
 was very happy to help her find them. 
 
 Pepe was doubly assiduous in his visits since 
 the arrival of Tulita, and fertile in excuses for his 
 frequent calls. He came very earnestly one day 
 to say : 
 
 " I want to get up a carnival ride, and, if you 
 will go with me in my ox-cart, I will be the negro 
 driver, and we will go to see my aunt, who lives 
 on a beautiful estate, and whom we can puzzle
 
 TULITA. 333 
 
 completely, for she only knows la Marquesa all 
 the rest of you ladies are strangers to her." 
 
 " Oh, delightful ! " said Carolina. "We can go, 
 can we not, dear aunt ? " 
 
 " If you will be very discreet, and if Don Fer 
 nando will go, so as to keep Pepe in order," said 
 the Marchioness. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; never fear ! I have plenty of masks, 
 and can disguise you all. It will not be the first 
 time my grave brother has chaperoned me on a 
 carnival frolic. I have some beautiful oxen, and 
 Fernando s Alejo will dress up the cart. I shall 
 be here by nine o clock in the morning day after 
 to-morrow, and to-morrow I will send the masks. 
 Manuel must go as a deaf and dumb boy, else he 
 would be sure to betray us all." 
 
 " I can keep a secret as well as any one," 
 declared Manuel. 
 
 " I would not trust you," persisted Pepe. 
 
 " You must take Don Pepe s terms, my dear," 
 said his mother. "You would not like to spoil 
 his sport." So it was agreed that Manuel should 
 be the deaf and dumb boy. 
 
 The Marchioness assured Helen it was very 
 innocent fun, as enacted at that time. Formerly a 
 good many accidents had occurred by the wanton 
 use of the privilege, and a law now existed that 
 no one should appear in a carnival party in the 
 public roads, but only within the limits of the 
 plantations.
 
 334 TULITA. 
 
 The next day came the masks, which were 
 Pepe s work, and worthy of his talent. 
 
 The Marchioness and Helen personated New 
 England witches (this was Helen s suggestion) 
 and were dressed in old plaid woollen cloaks, with 
 hoods that had figured on the voyage to Cuba. 
 The hoods were trimmed with black and white 
 horse-hair, and each sported a stick, and took on 
 the character of fortune-teller. Carolina and Tu- 
 lita were the belles of the party, dressed like 
 Greeks, their garments and scarfs trimmed with 
 Greek borders, that Helen drew for them ; and 
 Ludovico, a Turk, who had them in charge- 
 Fernando, an old portly Spanish lady, covered with 
 jewelry, whose shape was determined by a huge 
 pillow worn under her flowing garments, her neck 
 and arms bare, and adorned with bracelets. It is 
 true she was rather of the gigantic order in 
 height as well as girth, but the disguise was com 
 plete. The two little girls were fairies floating in 
 gossamer. 
 
 The cart was elaborately decorated with 
 branches of cocoa and palm, and Pepe was dis 
 guised by a black silk handkerchief drawn over 
 his head, with a broad negro face painted upon it, 
 grinning with merriment, his eyes gleaming from 
 the slits made for them, his costume that of a 
 dashing calesero with a steeple-crowned hat, and 
 floating red ribbons. The masks had long noses, 
 of various shapes, asses ears, and black veils.
 
 TULITA. 335 
 
 The little girls did not like the masks, and were 
 only reconciled to them by knowing the wearers 
 intimately. 
 
 As they threaded their way through a neighbor 
 ing plantation of a French gentleman, somewhat 
 advanced in life, who had a wife and sister of cor 
 responding age, and a daughter with two charm 
 ing children, the negroes whom they passed, and 
 looked out upon from behind their masks, fled in 
 every direction, terrified by the long noses and 
 asses ears. The negroes always run towards the 
 mansion when alarmed, but Pepe drove his oxen 
 as rapidly as he could make them go with the 
 goad which guides oxen in that country, the two 
 heads bound to one yoke ; and the whole party 
 alighted upon the low piazza., and took the family 
 by surprise. The elder members understood the 
 frolic, but the children screamed so fearfully that 
 the Marchioness insisted at once upon the masks 
 being taken off, which resolved the company into 
 a party of friends, well known to the neighbors, 
 and soon they resumed their jaunt to the coffee 
 estate of la Senora Dona Maraquita, the aunt of 
 Don Pepe. A lofty flight of steps were to be as 
 cended, and when the party, preceded by flying 
 and frightened negroes, appeared on the great 
 gallery, the Aunt Maraquita came forward to meet 
 them. The great sport of the occasion was the 
 impenetrable disguise, and it was truly baffling 
 until the aunt spied upon the finger of Pepe,
 
 33 6 TULITA. 
 
 who had strangely forgotten to disguise his hands, 
 a ring which she had herself presented to him. 
 
 " Pepe ! Pepe ! " she exclaimed, delighted to find 
 a clew to the unexpected party. 
 
 " The ring ! the ring ! that has betrayed you 
 Now you must all unmask and come to lunch, for 
 you must be tired and hungry." 
 
 " First let the American witches tell your for 
 tune," insisted Pepe. 
 
 "Ah, there are your American friends. Now I 
 begin to see the light." 
 
 The Marchioness threw off her mask, but Helen 
 did not wish to follow her example. She could 
 not help herself, however, and, after rapping with 
 her stick in mock anger, she too unmasked, and 
 was cordially greeted by the lady. 
 
 The beauty of the young ladies was its own 
 apology for being, and the dear children added 
 their charm to the scene. 
 
 Manuel was the only one who persisted in wear 
 ing his mask. When addressed, he only made 
 signs, but not a murmer escaped his lips. Helen 
 had taken the pains to teach him the finger 
 alphabet, the day before, and he did his part well. 
 
 When they all sat down to the delicious lunch 
 provided, they rested from their labors, and Pepe 
 was rewarded for all his exertions by the success 
 of his fun. 
 
 When they arrived at home by the glorious 
 moonlight, thev found themselves perfectly ex-
 
 TULITA. 337 
 
 hausted by the much laughing all their droll 
 adventures had elicited. Even Helen had been 
 beguiled into merriment, and the Marquis, who 
 had not accompanied them, felt much relieved to 
 see them safely back again, though their three 
 cavaliers were as safe guides as they could have 
 had. He knew they had to cross from one avenue 
 to another, and was not sure but that Pepe had 
 made some unlucky venture. . . . 
 
 Don Pepe ran up the steps unexpectedly one 
 day. His approach had not been observed. 
 
 " What now ? " thought Helen. " Don Pepe 
 looks quite excited." 
 
 "Good-morning, ladies; La Marquesa, to-mor 
 row is your annual snow-storm. Young ladies, 
 to-morrow you must dress yourselves in white, 
 pure white, and make part of the snow-storm ; no 
 colors are to be worn on that day. 1 shall be 
 happy to come and make part of your escort." 
 
 "Snowstorm?" said Helen, with an inquiring 
 look at Isabella. 
 
 " That is my word for the first coffee-blooming, 
 and Don Pepe has never forgotten it. If he had 
 only seen a New England snow-storm he would 
 appreciate it still better. Yes, we will all be 
 ready. It is a spectacle never to be neglected. I 
 hope it will be a happy day. We have three blos 
 somings of the coffee-tree in the spring, but the 
 first is the fullest." 
 
 " I don t know which is the most beautiful spec-
 
 33 8 TULITA. 
 
 tacle on that day," said Pepe, " the ladies or the 
 coffee-flowers." 
 
 " We can have the ladies every day," suggested 
 Ludovico. 
 
 "But not all together like a flock of angels," 
 insisted Pepe. 
 
 "Shall we wear our fairy dresses, dear mama?" 
 inquired Luisa. 
 
 " Yes, my darling." 
 
 " And mama, you shall be Queen of the 
 Fairies," said Pepita. 
 
 " You should ask Aunt Helen to be Queen of 
 the Fairies," said mama, " in gratitude for read 
 ing you the beautiful play about Titania." 
 
 " But we won t have any ugly men such as were 
 in the play, mama," said Manuel. 
 
 " No ; to-morrow is a lady s-day, and you gentle 
 men must be very modest and humble." 
 
 And when Miss Wentworth took her walk on 
 the piazza., next morning, every coffee-square was 
 like a snow-bank, indeed. The orange-like flowers 
 bloom the whole length of every coffee-twig, and 
 fill the air with their rich perfume, and, contrary 
 to the usual custom, which is to keep housed dur 
 ing the heat of the sun, the gay quitrins, in their 
 most beautiful liveries, threaded the walks of the 
 plantations, laden with beautiful ladies and chil 
 dren dressed in pure white, and escorted by the 
 young men in white pantaloons and gay-colored 
 parasols ; and long white ribbons floated from the
 
 TULITA. 339 
 
 steeple-crowned hats of the caleseros, who were 
 dressed for the occasion. 
 
 By night the blossoms had withered, and the 
 next morning fell blackened from the coffee-trees. 
 It was a day not to be forgotten, but put away in 
 the memory as the only one of its kind in one s 
 experience. 
 
 " Don t you like snow-storm day, Aunt Helen ? " 
 inquired Manuel, at breakfast-time next day. 
 
 " I do, indeed ; it was a day without a blot." 
 
 " Even the people looked happy," said Manuel, 
 rousing himself, as if he had mused upon the fact. 
 
 " I wish mama had been here," said dear little 
 Carlito, who loved to think of his mama, but did 
 not wish to return to Havana, where there were 
 no little girls or Guinea-grass steeds, and Miss 
 Wentworth could comfort him, when unhappy, 
 even better than his mother could, for she, too, 
 was made unhappy by slavery. She was doomed 
 to pass her life in it, while Miss Wentworth lived 
 in a country that seemed more like God s world to 
 poor little Carlito s tender heart. 
 
 Juanita amused herself all day painting coffee- 
 trees in bloom. 
 
 "As to painting, Helen," said Isabella, "I am 
 entirely outdone by Juanita. I have always made 
 drawing and painting the chief occupations and 
 amusements of the children. They all inherit my 
 taste for it, and I may truly say it has been the 
 solace of my life. I painted the sketch you so
 
 34 TULITA. 
 
 much admire, soon after I came here, when my 
 soul hungered and thirsted for my New England 
 home. I did not love palm-trees nor their kind 
 at first I pined for elms, and oaks, and beeches. 
 If you should turn over my portfolios, you would 
 find many sketches that you would recognize 
 not the sketches, but the places sketched. But 
 after the children grew older, they painted not I. 
 Ludovico painted still-life. But Juanita is the 
 genius of painting. She copied my New Eng 
 land sketches over and over again. She taught 
 herself the art with them, and you will find her 
 portfolios full of them. She once made a visit 
 with us in the Mountains of San Salvador, which 
 you can see from here some clear days, and 
 there \ve commanded beautiful sea-views. Juanita 
 steeped her soul in them, and after our re 
 turn she painted some views that you will see in 
 another room, which I call my studio, because it 
 has always been my painting-room. You will find 
 the Berkshire Hills quite pale before two views 
 there, upon which she wrought many months. 
 I had quite as lief look at them as at the views 
 themselves. She seemed to add something to 
 nature. She has never talked much, for hers has 
 been a sad and strange history, but we all under 
 stand her. Ludovico has always taken great pleas 
 ure in teaching her what he knew. 
 
 " Indeed, as she hung over the table where he 
 was studying his lessons, her quick perceptions
 
 TULITA. 34 ! 
 
 caught everything he did, and it was this readi 
 ness to learn which had at first interested him in 
 teaching her. Her brilliancy, her piquant grace, 
 her devotion to his every wish and whim, and his 
 want of other playmates, united them more than 
 was best, perhaps. You have made me question 
 it more than I ever did before. 
 
 " I had sometimes questioned the expediency of 
 such an intimate intercourse, but the beauty and 
 loveliness of the child were very great, her posi 
 tion isolated, being the last of her race, always 
 subject to the envy and consequent hatred of the 
 other slaves, and my desire to shield her from con 
 tact with them has made me disregard too much, 
 I sometimes think, the fact that she is still a slave. 
 I think they are a little superstitious about her 
 power of taking likenesses, which is very great. 
 They seem to be a little frightened by it, as if it 
 gave her some power over the individuals. She 
 once drew the likeness of Don Fernando and his 
 brother Pepe, at the request of Ludovico, and I 
 have been amused to see them sit and gaze at 
 these drawings as if for the first time they had 
 seen themselves." 
 
 " I wonder she had the courage to do it," said 
 Helen. 
 
 " She would not have had, if it had been 
 necessary for them to sit to her. I must show 
 you the group of my children which she took 
 several years ago. Our purpose is to give her her
 
 34 2 TULITA. 
 
 freedom ; but the taint of African blood would still 
 remain, and if she were free to dispose of herself, 
 all the chances are that she would be led into 
 temptation by the wicked. These pretty, lady-like 
 girls that are brought up with the children are in 
 a terrible position. There is hardly a chance of 
 their keeping their virtue. They do not hesitate 
 to give themselves to a white man if he is kind 
 and attentive. I keep her out of the way of our 
 guests as much as possible. Thus far she is en 
 tirely able to take care of herself. She never 
 comes into their company unless I bid her, and I 
 do not believe a stranger ever caught her eye." 
 
 " Her reserve is wonderful to behold," replied 
 Helen. 
 
 "Yes her attachment to me and to Ludovico 
 is the absorbing sentiment of her being. Separa 
 tion from us would be a death-blow to her. The 
 only circumstances that would make her freedom 
 desirable are those of possible removal from the 
 island, and this is but a shadowy possibility, con 
 tingent upon Ludovico s future. 
 
 " Again, planters are very circumspect about 
 bestowing freedom upon their slaves, because 
 freedom given to one makes others discontented. 
 The race from which Juanita had sprung had been 
 haughty and overbearing, for they knew they were 
 emancipates, and a strong hand had always been 
 required to keep them in subjection. The mother 
 and grandmother of Juanita had demanded their
 
 TULITA. 343 
 
 freedom as a right, a demand which had been 
 sternly resisted, for its admission might have 
 necessitated its application to many other individ 
 uals entitled to it on the same ground, all unwit 
 ting as they might be of the fact." 
 
 Neither the Marchioness nor Helen knew the 
 secret fire that burned in Juanita s heart. She had 
 carefully guarded the knowledge her mother had 
 imparted. As she grew older and shared in Ludo- 
 vico s knowledge, and knew what freedom meant, 
 she had lost her vivacity and fallen into a deep mel 
 ancholy. The Marchioness accounted for it easily 
 on the common principles of human nature, and 
 had often felt that to her ignorance would indeed 
 have been bliss. She now allowed her to occupy 
 herself very much as she pleased. Her tastes were 
 decidedly artistic, and she soon surpassed Ludo- 
 vico in both execution and conception. She could 
 not only imitate flowers with her brush, but with 
 her needle, and the exquisite decorations of cur 
 tains, towelling, table-linen, etc., that made the 
 palace of the Marquis celebrated, were the work 
 and inspiration of her hands, to say nothing 
 of the walls that constantly brought strangers 
 there. It is a national custom to paint the walls 
 both inside and outside of houses, and it is 
 generally the work of the tutors who are hired to 
 teach the children, and these are often cultivated 
 men, but their position in the family is little 
 above that of an upper servant. Juanita s decora-
 
 344 TULITA. 
 
 tions were not so exceptional therefore, except in 
 quality, but that made them sufficiently famous 
 to attract much attention. 
 
 While busied in the creation of beauty around 
 her, the smouldering fires of Juanita s inward 
 being were restrained from bursting into flame. 
 Every day the family board was arranged like a 
 work of art. Every flowering vine and tree ap 
 peared in its season upon the tables. All was 
 performed in the spirit of a service of love. 
 When not with her mistress, her home was the 
 nursery, where she assisted Mrs. Warwick in the 
 care of the younger children, whose taste she 
 formed unconsciously by the exercise of her own, 
 while the good Mrs. Warwick serenely presided over 
 all, the Marchioness herself included, for Mrs. 
 Warwick was one of those substantial New Eng 
 land matrons who command every one s respect, 
 and are mothers and nurses by nature, as well as 
 by craft, to all around them. 
 
 Helen listened to this strange history with ever 
 increased amazement that her friend should have 
 dared to let the two children risk each other s 
 happiness to such a degree as she felt it to be ; 
 for are not all hearts made alike, no matter 
 what the outside semblance or circumstance may 
 be? 
 
 " I know what you must think of all this, Helen; 
 but I have never had any serious fears. Ludovico 
 is noble and pure, and so is Juanita. They both
 
 TULITA. 345 
 
 know how completely their positions in society 
 forbid anything like marriage between them." 
 
 "I cannot share your confidence, dear Isabella; 
 I only hope you are in the right. You sleep on a 
 volcano. May it never burst forth into flame ! I 
 rejoice that your splendid gifts bring such re 
 sources to yourself and your children." 
 
 One afternoon the Marquis invited the family 
 to accompany him to the scene of the " sleeve of 
 wind" that had passed across the island in the 
 last storm, on the memorable night of Pedro s 
 capture. The devastation it had wrought in its 
 path was quite curious to see, and had been much 
 talked of. 
 
 It was arranged that the elder ladies should 
 take the volante, with Manuel between them, and 
 the rest of the party go on horseback. The Mar 
 quis, after viewing the pathway of the storm, was 
 to leave them to Ludovico s escort, which would 
 be all-sufficient. 
 
 Traces of the ravages of the hurricane were 
 visible all the way, in broken limbs of trees and 
 heaps of whirled leaves, but, at the distance of 
 six miles from La Consolacion, it had taken a 
 definite shape, a quarter of a mile in width, and 
 everything had perished in its grasp. The line of 
 hedges looked as if the lightning had scathed 
 them ; every leaf was shrivelled and red with the 
 mahogany-colored dust, that seemed to have been 
 the heated instrument of the lightning. Trees
 
 34-6 TULITA. 
 
 seventy feet in height were uprooted* and stood 
 upon their heads. Sugar-cane and coffee-shrubs 
 were laid low. Every vestige of the plantation 
 mansion was swept away. These structures are 
 light, the lignum-vitas posts being only lathed 
 with cocoa-leaves, and covered with plaster. Not 
 one post was to be seen within fifty yards of the 
 spot. The roof had been lifted first, the inmates 
 raised into the air, as if by suction, and then 
 dropped. The negro quarters were entirely de 
 molished, and fifteen of " the people " had been 
 killed. Outside the path of devastation, every 
 thing grew and bloomed as if no besom of heaven 
 had passed that way. Farther on, a royal forest 
 had been traversed by the wind-spout, if so it 
 might be termed, and everything it touched 
 had the appearance of being twisted by giant 
 hands. Yet, outside this path, the vines still 
 hung upon the trees, which had been broken on 
 one side and left unscathed on the other. 
 
 It was a wondrous spectacle. And its con 
 trasts seemed to Helen analogous to those she had 
 seen in the moral world, in that fairest of climes, 
 the heart-wringings and despair of one class, 
 the fiestas and gayeties that rang their fairy-bells 
 within hearing by the other. Forever associated 
 in her mind would be the howlings of the pitiless 
 storm and the raging passions and terrors of that 
 night of horrors. The young people prattled of 
 the tempest, but Helen and the Marchioness had
 
 TULITA. 347 
 
 no words for the external sign; and, when they 
 rode away from the scene, " the poor man in the 
 hospital," as little Jose" called him, for he was 
 Pedro only to Helen, was the topic of their 
 conversation, and not the storm. 
 
 As they passed a stately gateway that stood 
 open, a loose horse rushed by them, and Tulita s 
 pony, excited and startled, dashed up the avenue 
 with headlong speed. The Marquis had parted 
 from them half an hour before, and Ludovico was 
 the only gentleman in attendance. He followed 
 Tulita, as did Carolina and the rest, and found 
 her lying on the ground, close to a house that 
 stood at the extremity of the avenue, and the pony 
 gone, no one knew where. 
 
 Tulita s ankle was sprained, and she was care 
 fully lifted from the ground by Ludovico and the 
 fine, Jewess-looking lady Helen had seen at the 
 village balls, and laid upon a couch on the piazza.. 
 
 The Marchioness was faint with alarm when 
 she stepped out of her volante ; but Tulita was 
 apparently not much hurt, and every attention 
 was paid to the party by the lady and her beauti 
 ful daughter. A physician was immediately sum 
 moned from a neighboring village, but the hostess 
 had bathed and soothed the sprained ankle with 
 so much skill that when he came he pronounced 
 it all the treatment that was needed. 
 
 An urgent invitation was given to the party to 
 stay all night, but the Marchioness, when she
 
 348 TULITA. 
 
 declined, said her young triend was a guest of 
 the Countess of Lopez, who resided on the very 
 next plantation, and she would restore Tulita to 
 her care rather than remove her so far as her own 
 residence. 
 
 Ludovico said he would notify the Countess at 
 once, and sprang upon his horse to do the errand. 
 Before the Marchioness was aware, Carolina had 
 done the same and sped after him. It was too 
 good an opportunity to be lost, and she had now 
 gained her point, which was to see the far-famed 
 estate of La Maripoosa. 
 
 They soon returned with the Countess and a 
 light hammock, on which Tulita was carefully 
 placed and carried to la Maripoosa by four ath 
 letic men, who kept step so skilfully that she was 
 scarcely jarred. Helen remarked the care, and 
 when Tulita was asked if she was pained, she 
 replied, "Not much," and, in a moment, added, 
 " These are some of the bozals that I nursed with 
 my own hand before they were sold. They have 
 been so good to me since I have been here ! 
 Good-bye ! good-bye ! " and Tulita kissed her 
 hands to her friends with tearful eyes. 
 
 Helen inquired of Isabella before they retired 
 who those fine-looking ladies were whom they had 
 by constraint visited that day. 
 
 " Are they Jewesses ? " 
 
 " No, my dear Helen ; they are the freed slaves 
 of a wealthy man who died when his daughter
 
 TULITA. 349 
 
 was still a child, and left her and her mother all 
 his riches. You saw them at the village balls. 
 Strange to say, they always go there, evidently 
 hoping to be noticed ; but they are never spoken 
 to. The young cavaliers who spend the holidays 
 in the country visit them in their beautiful home, 
 but never speak to them or recognize them else 
 where. That is the way with Spaniards. They 
 often visit in the country families they do not 
 recognize in the city, and even this one is not 
 exempt from their meanness. Some men are too 
 gentlemanly to do it, but the Countess of Lopez 
 visitors are of a class that will do anything to 
 amuse themselves. I have seen that young girl 
 grow more and more melancholy as she came to 
 the balls year after year. She is exceptionally 
 well educated (but what do Spaniards care for 
 that?), and all the diamonds of the House of 
 Almonte will not purchase her an honorable alli 
 ance ; and it is said her mother s ambition runs 
 high." 
 
 " I hope they will both die of broken hearts 
 before they will accept anything lower," said 
 Helen. 
 
 " I hope so too, but I fear they will not. A 
 suspicion of negro blood in women who are appar 
 ently equal in manners and education to any of us, 
 will prevent marriage. This mother was one of 
 those beautiful girls brought up in the house to 
 wait upon the children, and, ever after the death
 
 35 TULITA. 
 
 of the old Marquis of Almonte, she presided at 
 the son s table, and was in every way treated as 
 his wife, except that he did not marry her. He 
 never was married at all, but was very much 
 attached to her, and left all his riches to her and 
 her daughter. But the young girl can have no 
 respectable pride, or she would not expose herself 
 to this public neglect from those whom she is 
 weak enough to receive as guests at home." 
 
 "What a strange state of things !" said Helen. 
 
 "Yes," said her friend, "society here cannot 
 be easily understood."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE FLIGHT. 
 
 DOLORES was better as soon as she became an 
 inmate of the hospital. Her strange condition 
 had ceased to command attention, her "fits" re- 
 "curring often, and also the subsequent prostration 
 inevitably following them. 
 
 A little fellow, eight years old, belonging to 
 Don Ermite, had been left to take care of Pedro, 
 and through him she let Pedro know that she was 
 near him. Don Andres winked at the messages 
 and magic words that were borne back and forth 
 by Jose, and at the oranges and bits of bread he 
 often saw transferred from one apartment to the 
 other, for in the hospital the men and women had 
 separate rooms. Bread is an article unknown to 
 the slave on the plantations, unless a kind mis 
 tress sends it to the hospital, and it ranks in his 
 estimation very much as plum-cake does with our 
 little boys and girls, not to say with some older 
 children. 
 
 Jose had always been silent and moping in the 
 presence of his master. He filled the office of 
 personal attendant to him, and endeavored by de 
 votion to his duty to avoid punishment, but Don
 
 35 2 THE FLIGHT. 
 
 Ermite s bad temper was often wreaked upon him. 
 When his master was absent in the field, Jose 
 would fill the air with his melody, and the charac 
 ter of his songs was so peculiar that he was very 
 attractive to the family. He sang songs of the 
 most sentimental character, Spanish and Italian, 
 and, when asked where he learned them, always re 
 plied "the ninas sang so." Who "the ninas" 
 were no one could ever discover. After Pedro was 
 left in his care, he refused to come and sit on the 
 steps of the piazza to sing, always giving as excuse 
 " sing to poor man in the hospital " ; and when 
 not in attendance upon the poor sufferer, he 
 would sit outside, under his window, and sing his 
 sweet songs. No doubt, they soothed the wretched 
 man, for Jose s voice was sweetly wild and pa 
 thetic to the most refined ears. He varied the 
 Spanish and Italian songs with hummings of his 
 own, that were like the warblings of birds, and it 
 seemed as if he broke out into words when his 
 own wild notes happened to touch some key that 
 brought them to mind. Manuel never let him 
 want for good things for himself or his patient, 
 and Jose had been a happy little boy since his 
 master had finally left the plantation. 
 
 But the summons came at last. One day a cart 
 was sent for Pedro and Jose. One of the brothers 
 of Don Ermite, who had been sent back penniless 
 to the mountains by Don Alfonso, came with it, 
 and gruffly demanded the property of his brother.
 
 THE FLIGHT. 353 
 
 Pedro was laid upon some straw in the bottom 
 of the cart, and Jose, weeping aloud in evident 
 terror, was placed at his feet, and they were driven 
 away. There was not a heart unmoved upon the 
 plantation. 
 
 Ludovico entreated his father to buy the man, 
 and the Marquis would have been glad to do it, to 
 gratify him, but for his troublesome neighbor, who 
 might have made it an excuse for farther persecu 
 tion. Dolores again rent the air with her cries, 
 and Pope Urban held her as she raged and foamed 
 at the mouth. 
 
 The next morning, two of the swiftest horses, 
 and Urbano and Dolores had disappeared. The 
 country was scoured in pursuit. The horses were 
 found loose in the road at twenty miles distance, 
 but no trace of the fugitives. No bozal could have 
 done it, but Urbano knew the way, and it was not 
 difficult to hide in the tangled woods that were 
 frequent in the king s public ways, the districts 
 being in the form of circles, in which the planta 
 tions are located, and the gores of land, as they 
 are called, belonging to the crown, filled with tim 
 ber of the rankest growth. 
 
 Don Andres was obliged to conduct the pursuit, 
 but he assured Helen afterwards that he let slip 
 no blood-hounds in the chase. His dogs never 
 hurt any one. Dolores and Urbano were never 
 seen again, and Helen hoped the Pope found 
 means to rescue or buy his young chief. He had
 
 354 THE FLIGHT. 
 
 doubtless laid by money enough, and there was no 
 clanger that the peasantry would betray him, for 
 they were incensed with the Marquis, for his sup 
 posed neglect of one of their class, who had suffered 
 in his service. 
 
 The negroes conceal it by burying it in the 
 ground, and the floor of Urbano s cabin showed 
 evident signs of having been well dug over, as if 
 it had contained hidden treasures. 
 
 Helen longed to tell Isabella the story of these 
 poor lovers, but she feared to do so, lest the Mar 
 quis might think her to blame for not imparting 
 the knowledge before, however unjust it might be 
 for him to do so. As she had taken no part in 
 their flight, her conscience was wholly at rest, and 
 by her silence she would certainly avoid the possi 
 bility of implicating Don Andres, who was as in 
 nocent as herself. She therefore allowed the vain 
 conjectures of others as to the connection between 
 Pedro and the two who had fled, to exhaust them 
 selves, as they were sure to do in time.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SEWING. 
 
 THE time had now arrived when the scanty but 
 extensive wardrobe of the 150 slaves must be 
 attended to, and Mrs. Warwick and Helen in 
 sisted that Isabella should not incur the fatigue 
 in her present state of health. Helen therefore 
 assumed the care of the work, assisted by Mrs. 
 Warwick, and it gave her much opportunity for 
 observation of "the people." The field women 
 assembled every morning for several hours to sew 
 upon the piazza, and the new hands were to be 
 trained to the use of the needle. Some of them 
 took hold of it readily, and as if not unskilled in a 
 more delicate use of the fingers than the handling 
 of the weeding knife, while others found it very 
 difficult. Don Andres presided over the whole 
 with admirable tact, not ostensibly, but with a 
 sort of omnipresence that checked any insubordi 
 nation or idleness, and this made Helen s task 
 more easy. It had always been an occasion when 
 the Marchioness gained much moral power on the 
 plantation, simply by not exacting more than was 
 reasonable from these uncultured creatures. All 
 were cleanly washed, and those who owned any 
 
 355
 
 35<5 SEWING. 
 
 garment but the inevitable duck chemise drawn 
 over the breast with a string arrayed themselves 
 in it for the sewing hours. The decoration might 
 be only a colored handkerchief for the head, a 
 scarf round the neck, or ear-rings bought from 
 the pedlers, who are encouraged to come upon the 
 plantations to keep down the possible funds the 
 slaves may accumulate for the purchase of their 
 freedom ; of which there are instances of success 
 in the better class of household slaves. These are 
 dressed in more respectable garments than the 
 field hands, and the privilege is made the most of, 
 creating quite a difference of caste. 
 
 The Marchioness assumed the care of the chil 
 dren, in the nursery, with Juanita s help. She 
 was obliged to recline upon the sofa, and the daily 
 studies were partially remitted. Juanita had long 
 been engaged in embroidering the wedding-dress 
 for Carolina, who had chosen the design, and 
 well knew the superiority of Juanita s handiwork. 
 Patiently and sadly she wrought day after day, 
 weaving her poor heart into the hated garment. 
 Isabella, who watched her with painful interest, 
 and felt self-reproached that her kindness to the 
 girl had taken the form that it had, willingly inter 
 rupted her often for the amusement of the chil 
 dren, and Carlito and Manuel seemed to divine 
 Isabella s condition. One morning Juanita was 
 needed to assist a young field hand to hold her 
 needle, and unwittingly took her embroidery in
 
 SEWING. 357 
 
 her hand when she was called out. It was the 
 waist of the dress, a delicate fabric of gossamer 
 linen, a marvel of beautiful workmanship, nearly 
 completed. 
 
 Mumma Camilla was the chronic torment of the 
 sewing-women at these seasons. Their presence 
 operated like an elixir upon her every day. She 
 often moved them about to sweep around them 
 when she thought too much litter of scraps and 
 thread ends had accumulated to look picturesque, 
 and if they dropped a needle or a thimble, she 
 would run to the spot to help seek it, and it would 
 be sure never to reappear. The defiant looks of 
 the women who were sometimes suspected of thus 
 securing to themselves a few moments of leisure, 
 only stimulated her troublesome activity. 
 
 When Juanita turned to the chair on which she 
 had laid her work for a few moments, it was gone. 
 She was betrayed into an expression of dismay 
 that attracted Helen s attention. An immediate 
 bustle ensued. Mumma Camilla was the busiest 
 of the hunters. Every woman was turned and 
 shaken. Every chair was moved. Some of the 
 women cried for fear of being suspected ; others 
 looked angry, but dared not speak if they knew 
 what had become of it. Camilla whirled round the 
 poor bozal who had been the object of Juanita s 
 sympathy, till she was perfectly dizzy, Camilla the 
 while filling the air with her vociferations. 
 
 " Dress of the nina gone ! wedding-dress of the
 
 SEWING. 
 
 nina ! Much work many days work poor 
 Juanita ! thieving bozals sell such work to the 
 pedlers! enough money to buy liberty " and she 
 laughed her bitter laugh. 
 
 " Yes, my lady," she went on, " let me search 
 her- who else could have taken it? perhaps 
 she passed it much cunning bozals play ball 
 with the mud pass them along much cunning 
 I imist search them all " and, passing rapidly 
 about, she twitched away their work, thrust her 
 hands into their bosoms, and the more dismay the 
 better she liked it." 
 
 Don Andres, who stood upon the piazza., at the 
 moment, seeing an unusual commotion, in his 
 clear and commanding voice silenced the tumult 
 at once, and soon they were again seated, Camilla, 
 however, voluble as ever, describing to him the 
 accident and its probable effect on poor Juanita, 
 who had resigned the search at once when Mumma 
 Camilla assumed it. 
 
 It was too good an opportunity for Camilla to 
 lose in convincing the large public before whom 
 she performed that Juanita was one of them. 
 
 " Poor Juanita ! " she suddenly exclaimed, as if 
 a new thought struck her. " So much work ! so 
 tiresome ! eyes ache ! back ache ! fine stitches, 
 many stitches poor Juanita Ave, sanctissima 
 do not punish her much tired too many 
 stitches pardon for Juanita young people fool 
 ish young people do not think; work towels,
 
 SEWING. 359 
 
 work curtains, work forever too many stitches, 
 poor Juanita." 
 
 " Madama," said Don Andres, to Helen, in 
 answer to this tirade, " has this old woman been 
 searched ? " 
 
 " I searched ! I m the seeker ! I searched ! 
 screamed Camilla. " Who ll search me ? Poor 
 Juanita. I searched all moved the chairs 
 shook the women. I searched," and she laughed 
 defiantly. 
 
 " It is not on mumma Camilla," said Juanita, 
 deprecatingly, for she knew the old thing too well 
 to suppose it would be found upon her person, and 
 she feared the consequences of the accusation to 
 herself. 
 
 "On mumma Camilla? no, indeed ! on me, in 
 deed ! Poor Juanita ! don t punish her." 
 
 " Solidad ! " said Don Andres, in a loud, clear 
 voice, "come and search this old woman." 
 
 " Ay de mi ! La Senora ! ave, sanctissima ! 
 do not let her touch me." 
 
 " It is but fair, Camilla," said Helen. 
 
 " Go on, Solidad," said Don Andres. 
 
 Camilla looked defiant, and Solidad looked 
 timid, but Don Andres approached a few steps 
 nearer, and fixed his eye upon the former, motion 
 ing with his head to Solidad to proceed. The 
 search, which Camilla saw it was not best to resist, 
 was fruitless. Camilla was too cunning for that. 
 When it was over, she laughed, more like a hyena
 
 36O SEWIXG. 
 
 than like a human being, and darfed into her 
 pantry to conceal her rage, carrying her displaced 
 head-handkerchief in her hand. 
 
 "There, Miss Wentworth," said Carolina, in 
 English, " you see she had not got it. I have no 
 doubt she was in the right, and that Juanita has 
 hidden it, because she was tired of it." 
 
 Both Helen and Mrs. Warwick protested against 
 this, and endeavored to signify to her that Juanita 
 might hear her ; but Carolina, much excited, went 
 on : 
 
 " That girl is more cunning than you think. 
 She takes you all in. I do not care if she does 
 hear me." 
 
 Juanita had heard, and walked away, disdaining 
 to reply. 
 
 As soon as the women had gone to their cabins 
 and other work, Camilla called her washers, and 
 for a second time that day the gallery was flooded 
 with water, a running soliloquy of the old woman 
 varying the scene. 
 
 " Ave, sanctissima ! much women, much bad 
 air! poor Juanita! too many stitches ! Ay cle 
 mi ! searching me ! who else to look for things ? 
 Poor Juanita ! tired, no wonder much sewing, 
 much tired. Ah! la Marquesa! not yet not dry 
 yet ! lazy people ! wipe the floor ! more dry cloths ! 
 Canailla ! no head! la Marquesa wants air dry 
 here, mi alma !" Whirls a long settee across the 
 gallery.
 
 SEWING. 3l 
 
 "I will walk on the other side a few moments," 
 said the Marchioness. 
 
 " Too much sun, lady ! headache ! " runs round 
 with a chair. 
 
 " I do not wish for a chair, Camilla ; keep at 
 your work." 
 
 " Yes, yes, lady ! soon dry dry now." Whirls 
 the settee back again. 
 
 " Camilla, let the settees alone ; you will break 
 them all to pieces." 
 
 When the Marchioness sat down, Carolina came 
 to relate her grievances, and to accuse Juanita. 
 
 " You do not know that wicked old woman, 
 Carolina. She has often done such things before. 
 No juggler has more sleight-of-hand, and we shall 
 probably never see it again, at least until the occa 
 sion for which it was worked has passed, and then 
 it may reappear. The reappearance of things is 
 often as mysterious as their disappearance. 
 Juanita is wholly incapable of any such act." 
 
 Camilla, who had retired a moment to her pan 
 try, to readjust her turban and put on dry shoes, 
 hearing voices, peeped out, and soon emerged 
 with her duster. 
 
 The Marchioness, who was very willing that she 
 should know her opinion of her, went on. 
 
 "One day she broke a guardabrisa while dust 
 ing the buffet. It was a very valuable one, of cut- 
 glass, and could not be replaced here. I expressed 
 a great deal of regret and vexation at her careless-
 
 SEWING. 
 
 ness. I was not wise, for a few days afterward 
 the mate to it disappeared. I accused her of hav 
 ing broken it ; but she denied it vehemently, invok 
 ing all the saints. I let it pass as I could not 
 help myself. If I had let her be punished, it 
 would not have restored the vase. I only begged 
 her to hunt for it, which she often assured me 
 that she had done, but that it must have been 
 hidden away and sold secretly to some pedler. 
 Camilla, you have dusted everything now do 
 not make any more noise. I am wearied, and wish 
 to rest go now ! " 
 
 Camilla disappeared down the steps. After a 
 little while she came upon the gallery again from 
 outside the house, half covered with a shawl, and 
 evidently carrying something. Suddenly she 
 stood before the Marchioness, and held out the 
 guardabrisa, safe and sound. 
 
 "There it is, my lady hidden away hid 
 den away; but I have found it! Much cunning 
 but I m too much for them." She laughed 
 sardonically. 
 
 " I am very glad to see it again," said the Mar 
 chioness, quietly. " I have no doubt you hid it 
 yourself two years ago ; put it on the buffet." 
 
 " Ave, sanctissima ! hid it myself ! no, indeed ! 
 hunted everywhere but I have found it ! " 
 
 " Where did you find it ? " 
 
 "Ay de mi! I would not tell much punish 
 ment, poor thing."
 
 SEWING. 363 
 
 "Go now," said the Marchioness, "and do not 
 come back till dinner time." 
 
 Camilla slowly retired, somewhat crestfallen. 
 
 " You see, my dear, that she understands 
 English. Her wits do sometimes betray her. It 
 was not a lucky moment in which to bring it 
 back." She did not go on to say that she pre 
 sumed Camilla was trying to involve Juanita. She 
 thought it probable she would hardly have dared 
 to play the trick she had played upon Juanita that 
 morning, if she had been present, and this last 
 she did say. 
 
 " I am afraid you must forego the beautiful 
 waist ; there will not be time to work another, but 
 the rest of the dress is finished, and a pretty 
 bertha of lace will cover a plainer waist." 
 
 " Can she not work another, if not quite so 
 much?" said Carolina, pettishly. Her pity was 
 all for herself, not for Juanita. 
 
 " Even Camilla thought there were too many 
 stitches," said Helen, playfully, hoping to disarm 
 Carolina s selfishness. 
 
 " I have no doubt the old thing was in the right 
 about one thing," persisted Carolina. 
 
 The Marchioness rose from her reclining pos 
 ture, and said she would lie down alone until din 
 ner, and, pale and exhausted, she left the gallery. 
 
 " You will look quite as well to me without the 
 worked dress as with it," said Luclovico, who now 
 appeared and heard the whole story from Carolina.
 
 364 SEWING. 
 
 He keenly felt her selfishness, and was almost 
 indignant in Juanita s behalf ; but he contented 
 himself with expressing his dissent. 
 
 " Let us have a little music, now," he said, wish 
 ing to change the subject. 
 
 "No, I do not feel like it," said Carolina, and 
 she walked into the house and closed the door of 
 her apartment with a clap that thrilled upon Lu- 
 dovico s nerves. 
 
 " I wonder where the old woman could have 
 put the work?" said Ludovico ; "where was 
 Juanita ? " 
 
 "She stood near that door," said Helen, "and 
 laid her work upon that chair. It is astonishing 
 how suddenly it disappeared." 
 
 Ludovico turned the chair over. It had a 
 leather seat. There was a slit in the leather at 
 the back of the seat. 
 
 " I wonder if she could have tucked it in there," 
 he said. He took a penknife from his pocket, and 
 thrust it in, and drew out the identical bit of fine 
 linen. 
 
 " Mumma Camilla ! " said Ludovico to that 
 functionary, who just then appeared at the door 
 of her pantry ; " I have found the place where you 
 hid Juanita s work, are you not ashamed of 
 yourself ? " 
 
 "Ah, pupil of my eye! I hid it!" laughs. 
 " Ave, sanctissima, not I! it was very easy to 
 hide it poor Juanita! many stitches do not
 
 SEWING. 365 
 
 punish her young people foolish! Ave, sanc- 
 tissima ! " 
 
 " Nothing was easier than for you to tuck it in 
 there. Miss Wentworth says that was the chair 
 Juanita laid the work upon. It is you who ought 
 to be punished ! It must have been you that hid 
 it we all know you very well. It is not the first 
 time." 
 
 Camilla let her long ape-like arms fall at her 
 side, then covered her face with her shawl, and fell 
 into a fit of violent weeping, as she moved slowly 
 away, and the more willingly as she heard the 
 Marquis ascending the steps. 
 
 " I wish that hateful thing was not in the 
 house," said Ludovico. 
 
 " I wish so, too ; but your mother could not do 
 without her, in her present state of health," said 
 Helen, who was very willing to call Ludovico s 
 attention to his mother s condition. 
 
 "Where is mama?" inquired Ludovico, as if 
 struck with a sudden thought. 
 
 " She went to lie down by herself till dinner 
 time, she was so pained by Camilla s behavior." 
 
 Ludovico, however, softly opened his mother s 
 door, which led from the hall, and Helen hoped 
 the interview would be a soothing one. If he had 
 known how much she had been pained by Caro 
 lina, perhaps he would not have ventured upon 
 one ; but they spoke only of Juanita and Camilla, 
 and the mother had a few moments of happiness
 
 366 SEWIA r G. 
 
 in her son s affectionate caress. He restored the 
 work to Juanita in the nursery, and she, tco, was 
 made momentarily happy by his kind manner. 
 
 At the Marchioness request, nothing was said 
 upon the subject at dinner, which Camilla served 
 with swollen and downcast eyes, and a look of 
 injured innocence. The jet black of her com 
 plexion prevented her from looking pale, as she 
 would undoubtedly have liked to do, but it was 
 amazing to see what a look of injured innocence 
 she could put on. Indeed, there was no charac 
 ter which her genius could not assume. 
 
 When the women had gone from the piazza, the 
 little naked plantation children came skipping 
 across it where they had been sitting, just as a 
 swarm of ants gathered upon a fruit skin that 
 might have been left upon the floor. 
 
 "These children," said Airs. Warwick, "are sure 
 to pick up every stray knot of thread or dropped 
 needle or end of tape, after the sewing is over." 
 
 "Why should not they be taught to sew?" said 
 Helen, to whom this remark was addressed. " I 
 should like to teach them myself." 
 
 " Ah, miss, it would be of no use to try," said 
 Mrs. Warwick. " I tried it thoroughly, when I 
 first came here, though the Marchioness told me 
 I should not succeed, that they would like it 
 very much at first, but they would soon get tired 
 of it, and begin to lose their needles. I was so 
 bent upon it, however, that she let me try, and
 
 SEWING. 36? 
 
 the French overseer, who was a kind-hearted man, 
 let me collect them together on the piazza of his 
 pavilion. I went to the village and bought fifty 
 thimbles, and fairly went to work ; but it was just 
 as the Marchioness said, they did not like to be 
 confined long enough to do anything, and, as I 
 could not talk to them, the overseer said there 
 was no way but to whip them into it. That was 
 enough for me, so I gave it up in despair." 
 
 "But I can talk to them," said Miss Went- 
 worth, " and I never yet saw the children that I 
 could not manage by telling them stories. I had 
 
 a class in the African Sunday-school in S , 
 
 when I was only twelve years old, and I found the 
 children very bright and teachable even then, 
 and still more when I was older and could talk to 
 them better." 
 
 " But the children here don t know enough to 
 hitch anything to," said Mrs. Warwick. 
 
 " I would like to try, nevertheless," persisted 
 Helen. 
 
 " I suppose you can, if you wish to, and it 
 would be a good thing, and some of the children 
 are very docile, but they are all as wild as little 
 animals. I tried my best to make them wear 
 some garment, and the Marchioness tried that, 
 too, finding how disagreeable it was to me to see 
 them running about naked ; but it would not be 
 an hour before the clothes would be tucked under 
 a bush, or hidden somewhere else. They found
 
 368 SEWING. 
 
 it much more comfortable to be naked in this hot 
 climate, and you could not get the first idea into 
 their heads of any reason why they should wear 
 them. If any of them are going to the village to 
 be baptized, they are willing enough to dress up 
 in all the finery their mothers can find for them ; 
 and it is a pretty sight to see them then." 
 
 " What idea have they about the baptism, do 
 you think ? " 
 
 " Oh, none whatever, except that if they die 
 they can then be buried in holy ground, and that 
 is everything to a Catholic." 
 
 " But they cannot be called Catholics." 
 
 " Oh, no, not with any meaning, but it is some 
 thing the white people do." 
 
 Helen used to carry flowers into her Sunday- 
 school at home, and show pictures to the children, 
 and she could imagine many ways in which she 
 might interest these ; but the Marchioness was too 
 ill to be consulted about it, and her conferences 
 with Don Andres had been necessarily checked. 
 
 " Honi soit qui mal y pense."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 DECEPTION. 
 
 THE next day, Carolina proposed a ride on 
 horseback with Ludovico. The Marchioness had 
 feared she would propose calling upon Tulita, and 
 had sent to inquire for her health in the morning, 
 that there might be no excuse for doing so. 
 Tulita was doing well, and begged to see them ; 
 but Isabella did not think it necessary to repeat 
 the invitation in the family circle. 
 
 It was late before the riders returned. They 
 had visited many beautiful plantations, the gates 
 of which are always opened to riders, even when 
 they are strangers. They did not speak of seeing 
 any one in their ride. 
 
 But Ludovico was not happy this evening. At 
 nine o clock the family assembled round a little 
 tea-table, in honor of American customs, for tea- 
 drinking is unknown to the Spaniards, who do 
 not eat in the evening, the Spanish dining hour 
 being late in the day ; and when guests were pres 
 ent, they were much amused with this evening 
 meal, which was always light. It had been insti 
 tuted since Helen s arrival, wholly in her honor. 
 Ludovico would fain have declined to sit down 
 * 369
 
 37 DE CEP TION. 
 
 with the rest of the party, but Carolina insisted. 
 Helen had little doubt that they had been on for 
 bidden ground, because of their unusual silence, 
 and a little excitement in Carolina s "manner con 
 firmed her suspicions. She rattled away more 
 recklessly even than usual at the evening meal. 
 
 Helen was right. Carolina had insisted upon 
 accepting the Countess urgent invitation, given 
 the morning before, while she sat upon her horse 
 at her door, and on her way home she had rallied 
 Ludovico for his gravity, and defied him to tell 
 his mother. It was the first time any one had 
 come between him and his beloved parent, or 
 turned him aside from his life-long allegiance to 
 her. But the serpent had fascinated him, and 
 more than once the baleful influence overcame 
 him. 
 
 He had turned his face from his mother and 
 from truth. His descent was rapid. His mother 
 felt it deeply, and her heart sank within her. 
 But she did not suspect the whole truth ; she had 
 no suspicion that he would so far forget what was 
 due to Carolina s position. If Ludovico had been 
 a girl, he would have known the impropriety of 
 the step ; but, as it was, and as he had seen no 
 sisters trained, and had had no young relatives 
 to be restrained, it must be said in his favor that 
 he did not know the full extent of the indiscretion. 
 If he had persisted in being frank about the first 
 visit, as he wished to be, the indiscretion could
 
 DECEPTION. 37 1 
 
 easily have been forgiven, and his mother would 
 have had an opportunity of giving him such 
 instructions as might have been a safeguard in 
 future. 
 
 "It is the first step that costs." And the sad 
 dest misfortune to youth is, not to be found out 
 in these first downward steps. 
 
 But "murder will out." 
 
 One morning, among other guests who fre 
 quented the attractive circle at La Consolacion, 
 arrived Tulita with her father, accompanied by 
 the young Count of Carova. 
 
 If the earth had opened under Ludovico s feet, 
 he could not have been more dismayed than when 
 Carova greeted Carolina familiarly, evidently not 
 a stranger. 
 
 The Marchioness was sufficiently chagrined to 
 see Don Miguel, who did not often profane her 
 threshold. Her blood always chilled at the sight 
 of him, and she was in the habit of going to see 
 the daughter of her mother s friend only during 
 his absence on the slave-coast, purposely to avoid 
 him. But when she saw the evidence that Ludo- 
 vico and Carolina had frequented the Countess of 
 Lopez mansion, for Carolina s confusion, as 
 well as the young man s manner, were as plainly 
 to be read as words, her cheeks blanched, and 
 it was only by a superhuman effort that she com 
 manded herself. 
 
 The mother s solicitude for her child s reputa-
 
 37 2 DECEPTION. 
 
 tion acted quick as thought, and, in her endeavor 
 to recover herself, she welcomed Don Miguel 
 more cordially than she would otherwise have 
 done. This put him quite at ease, and the light 
 jest went round, the Spanish suavity of the com 
 pany dissolved all private sentiments in a melli 
 fluous flow of nothings ; and it was not till the last 
 sonorous farewell was sounded from the volantes, 
 and responded to from the steps of the piazza, 
 that Isabella fell heavily upon the marble floor. 
 
 "Mama, I have killed you !" burst from Ludo- 
 vico, in a wild cry that curdled every one s blood. 
 
 He lifted her from the floor and bore her in his 
 arms into her own apartment. All was terror and 
 astonishment among the servants. The others 
 knew well enough what it all meant. When Isa 
 bella, under the care of Helen and Mrs. Warwick, 
 opened her eyes again, Ludovico bowed his head 
 upon her hand, and, with bitter weeping, begged 
 her forgiveness. 
 
 " Come, Carolina," he said to the partner of his 
 deception, "come and beg mama s pardon too." 
 
 Carolina, who stood a little apart, pale and 
 trembling, approached, and, bursting into tears, 
 sank down by Ludovico s side. She was thor 
 oughly frightened. Yet she could see no reason 
 for such serious apprehensions. She was too 
 ignorant to know of the worldly consequences 
 that might possibly ensue from what she had 
 tempted Ludovico to do, and it never occurred to
 
 DECEPTION . 373 
 
 her that her aunt suffered from the loss of her 
 son s confidence, or from his defection from truth ; 
 for she had not had the sentiment or the principle 
 cultivated. She had had no home, no mother to 
 watch over her young life. A fashionable board 
 ing-school is no nursery of the virtues. Truth of 
 character especially, which must be so carefully 
 guarded and often so carefully instilled into 
 the young, is frequently destroyed by that fear 
 ful ordeal, Carolina had been through all stages 
 of experience in her boarding-school life, from 
 the time when she was made the instrument 
 of the older girls to obtain hidden pleasures, and 
 to take cake and sweetmeats, up to that when she 
 was old enough to carry notes, and to take them 
 from the post-office under false names. She was 
 always favored by teachers, for she was wealthy 
 and pretty and piquant, quick to learn her ap 
 pointed lessons, and ambitious of distinction even 
 in the school. This was the first time an act of 
 her own had frightened her. Fainting, or any 
 semblance of death, always alarmed her, and she 
 was ready to promise anything now. 
 
 Ludovico believed all her protestations, and 
 accepted all her excuses. He had not opposed 
 her with sufficient earnestness to make any moral 
 impression, and he took all the blame of the 
 impropriety of the step upon himself. His 
 mother was satisfied with his repentance, but she 
 felt the shallowness of Carolina s, and grieved that
 
 374 DECEPTION. 
 
 his fate was to be clouded by such a companion 
 ship. Indeed she could not be consoled. 
 
 The Marquis did not share her apprehensions. 
 His displeasure was expressed in no measured 
 terms that Ludovico should so far violate the 
 customs of society as to take an unmarried lady 
 to make a call at any house, but he did not feel 
 the moral separation from his son which had 
 paled the check and made heavy the heart of 
 Isabella. Indeed he had feared that Ludovico 
 would be estranged from Cuban life too much. 
 The alliance was too valuable a one to be lightly 
 given up, and Isabella felt that she must hence 
 forth sorrow alone. Helen alone estimated the 
 significance of the wasting form and failing step. 
 In that climate all processes of nature are rapid 
 that of decay as well as that of growth. 
 
 Meantime, the preparations for the wedding 
 were rapidly progressing. Carolina was wholly 
 absorbed in the thought of her trousseau, and of 
 the gay life she was to lead in the city during the 
 summer rains, which would be so dismal in the 
 country. The plan was to take possession of her 
 own house for a few weeks, receive the attentions 
 of her neighbors, and then make the desired visit. 
 The seasons are so imperative in that climate 
 that delay would derange all their plans, and Isa 
 bella would not suggest any modification of them 
 on her own account, except that she was unable 
 to make of the occasion a fiesta such as is usual
 
 DECEPTION. 375 
 
 on marriage days with the pleasure-loving Span 
 iards, who make a holiday of every saint s day in 
 the calendar, and intensify the feast whenever 
 there is an apology for so doing. 
 
 She was also unable to continue the dissipated 
 life she had led during the winter, and, as Caro 
 lina could not go out alone, she was obliged to 
 be contented with the ordinary amusements of 
 home. La Consolacion was still the resort of all 
 the families that remained in the neighborhood, 
 and domestic dances, tableaux, drives, and arrivals 
 of goods from the city for the bride s trousseau, 
 occupied the time of the young people.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 THE wedding shall pass undescribed. It was a 
 private one, owing to the Marchioness state of 
 health, and the young people went to their splen 
 did abode. 
 
 Carolina was a married woman now, and no 
 longer needed, she thought, protection in the eye 
 of the world. The Marchioness saw that she 
 needed it more than ever, and so did Ludovico. 
 
 Why should not the Countess of Lopez make 
 early calls upon the new married couple ? She 
 must have known that the visits Carolina and 
 Ludovico had made upon Tulita were unsanctioned 
 visits. She had not been invited to repeat hers 
 to the Marchioness, and even the visit of her 
 young friend had brought no interchange of 
 courtesies. It was a feather in the Countess cap 
 to have a call from Ludovico, for the Rodriguez 
 were people of character, and the Countess knew 
 that she had no claim to that distinction. There 
 was no doubt that she would make the best of her 
 opportunity to get back so far into the society 
 from which she knew suspicion bad partially ban 
 ished her. In spite of the horror of this suspicion, 
 
 376
 
 CONSEQ UENCES. 377 
 
 the Marchioness shrunk from her less as a mur 
 derer than as a corrupter of the morals of the 
 young. But Carolina was exceedingly tenacious 
 of her own prerogative, and to every gentle remon 
 strance or word of warning tossed her pretty 
 head, and replied, " I am a married woman now." 
 
 For ten days, Carolina was overwhelmed with 
 visitors and invitations. Fiestas occupied every 
 evening. The Marchioness attended a few of 
 these, but every day she became more feeble, and 
 at the end of the second week she failed so rapidly 
 that every one was alarmed. Ludovico rode over 
 every morning to inquire for her, but Carolina s 
 nights were turned into days, and therefore her 
 days were turned into nights. 
 
 The Marquis wilfully shut his eyes to his wife s 
 condition. He would not, could not see it. He 
 too was anxious for his son, and for the reputation 
 of his son s wife, as he saw them mingle in society 
 that he had never cultivated. If they had re 
 mained in the family mansion, he might have con 
 trolled their movements in a degree, but Carolina 
 had resisted his urgent invitation to do so. He 
 did not mean to die about it, however, and he 
 would not think that Isabella would do so. 
 
 Helen meant to have returned home soon after 
 the wedding, for it was important to go sufficiently 
 early in the season t(5 avoid the yellow fever, which 
 infests vessels after the month of May. But she 
 would not leave her friend so ill, for any selfish 
 reasons.
 
 378 COXSEQUEA CES. 
 
 One evening, as Isabella reclined upon her 
 couch on the piazza, for in that climate invalids 
 are not condemned to the close and darkened 
 chamber, she suddenly exclaimed to Helen : 
 
 " Will you take my little girls home with you ? 
 Manuel must stay with his father." 
 
 " Isabella, my darling ! " 
 
 " I am sorry I am so weak, but I cannot bear it. 
 She has killed me, dear. Where is Hernando ? I 
 I cannot see you, Helen ! " 
 
 Helen s heart stopped beating. Isabella s 
 weakness had increased rapidly within a few 
 days, but she had not anticipated this sudden 
 summons. 
 
 Juanita sat at the window of the inner apart 
 ment. Helen pronounced her name, and pointed 
 to the door of the Marquis apartment. 
 
 Juanita had heard Isabella s remark, and flew to 
 open it, for she understood the look, but she could 
 not speak. 
 
 "\Vhat is the matter?" said the Marquis, rush 
 ing by her, for Juanita s agony was in her face. 
 
 " Hernando, dearest," said Isabella, opening 
 her eyes as he knelt by her couch, and she made 
 a last effort and threw both arms around his 
 neck. 
 
 The next moment they fell, and all was over. 
 The poor Marquis remained upon his knees, his 
 gaze riveted on Isabella s face. Not a sound 
 escaped him. Juanita fled with a piercing cry
 
 CONSEQUENCES. 379 
 
 into the nursery, from which Mrs. Warwick and 
 the children burst with frantic weeping. All was 
 confusion and terror, but the Marquis still gazed, 
 and as he gazed, the wan, faded look on the once 
 beautiful face passed away and a celestial smile 
 took its place. Still he gazed, and gradually all 
 were affected by the spell of his silence ; the chil 
 dren nestled close to him, and he threw his arms 
 around them, but still gazed upon the wonderful 
 spectacle before him. They were all hushed at 
 last by this statue-like gaze, for she seemed only 
 sleeping. At last he suddenly swayed over and 
 laid prostrate on the floor. The terrified children 
 were gathered into the arms of Helen and Mrs. 
 Warwick, the stricken man was lifted up and car 
 ried to his own apartment, to which Manuel fol 
 lowed him with piercing screams. 
 
 " See how beautiful mama is now she is an 
 angel ! " said Helen to little Pepita, who had buried 
 her face in her bosom, for she felt that this mo 
 ment was the one in which to take away the 
 fearful impression of death. 
 
 " May I kiss mama, nurse ? " sobbed Luisa. 
 
 " Yes, darling ; you know how she loved you," 
 said Helen, for Mrs. Warwick was speechless. 
 
 " And I too," said dear little Pepita, bending 
 over ; " she loved me too. Oh, what shall I do 
 without mama ? mama ! mama ! " shrieked the 
 poor child. 
 
 "Mama will take care of you still she will be
 
 3 8 CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 always with you, darling, though you cannot see 
 her. She is an angel now and cannot open her 
 earthly eyes any more, but see how she smiles 
 upon us. She is very happy with God. One of 
 these days you will go to her." 
 
 " Oh, I want to go now ! mama ! mama ! I 
 must go now," said Luisa. " I am afraid to stay 
 here without mama ! " 
 
 " What ! and leave dear papa ? " 
 
 " Oh, where is papa ? " said Pepita. " I must 
 go to papa ! " and she struggled out of Helen s 
 arms and ran to his room. " But first I must kiss 
 mama again ! " and she ran back. 
 
 Helen followed her into the Marquis apartment, 
 the door of which stood open, and lifted her upon 
 the bed. Manuel was nestled close to his father, 
 with his face hidden, his little form in a convul 
 sion of sorrow. Little Pepita, the Marquis 
 favorite, was drawn to the other side, and Helen 
 left them together and returned to Luisa, for she 
 felt sure there could be no ministration as sweet 
 as theirs. 
 
 Gradually she soothed Luisa, whose passionate 
 nature made sorrow dangerous, and whose vivid 
 imagination needed to be led into pleasant pas 
 tures and by living waters. 
 
 Ludovico came. His pale, haggard face startled 
 Helen. 
 
 "It is I I killed her. Mother! mother!" 
 and he knelt down and laid his head on the bosom 
 that had so loved him.
 
 CONSEQ UENCES. 3 8 r 
 
 Luisa burst into a fresh paroxysm of grief, and 
 Helen forcibly drew her away, that the poor boy 
 might have no witness to his anguish. And she 
 kept others away yet a little while from both 
 apartments, for she judged even herself, near and 
 dear as they were to her, an intruder upon the 
 sacredness of that sorrow. Luisa wandered in to 
 her father, who, when all were gone but his own, 
 rose to look again upon the celestial countenance 
 of his beloved wife. Its radiant, heavenly calm, 
 soothed them all at last. Was it not the conscious 
 spirit that illuminated the form at will ? The 
 heart answers the question in the affirmative, 
 surely. 
 
 Helen found Juanita prostrate upon her own 
 little bed, and with a despairing look on her 
 beautiful features, that went to her very heart. 
 She had lost her friend and protectress. Helen 
 in vain tried to rouse her. The wailings of the 
 other servants, whose grief was sincere perhaps, 
 but superficial, were less piteous than the silent 
 despair of this poor child of the sun. Her devo 
 tion to the Marchioness had been wholly self-for 
 getting. She had never left her at night since 
 her strength had begun to fail, but, whoever else 
 might watch, she had insisted upon sleeping on 
 the floor, and was always awake to serve her. 
 Helen was sure that she had shared her apprehen 
 sions of the final result, but presumed she was as 
 much shocked as herself at the suddenness of the 
 death.
 
 CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 She wound her arms round the poor girl and 
 whispered : 
 
 "If I take the little girls with me, per 
 haps you can go with me too." 
 
 Juanita started and returned her caress gently, 
 then fell back with a low cry, and tears burst from 
 her closed eyelids. Helen was glad to see them 
 flow, and, laying her head by Juanita s, she gave 
 way at last to her own sorrow. 
 
 But that low cry which was wrung from Juan 
 ita s heart, haunted her long after, for it meant 
 much that only Helen suspected. She looked 
 upon the slave as a being endowed with affections 
 like her own, and she had suffered enough in her 
 own right to carry the touchstone of the hidden 
 woes of others. 
 
 Helen found ample occupation in her care of 
 the bereaved children, who became very depen 
 dent upon her cheerfulness for power to bear this 
 great sorrow.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 REPENTANCE. 
 
 " DEAR Miss Wentworth, will you go to Caro 
 lina, and stay with her till I come to-morrow?" 
 pleaded Ludovico, when the motherless children 
 were all soothed to sleep. " Mrs. Warwick will 
 take care of the children, and I wish to stay here 
 to-night I cannot leave papa. Will you go? " 
 
 "Certainly I will. Shall I go now ?" 
 
 " The volante is ready, and I prefer that Caro 
 lina should not come over here to-night. Papa 
 could not see her. He can scarcely bear to 
 see me." 
 
 Helen lost no time in preventing the possibility 
 of Carolina s arrival. 
 
 She found her in the midst of gay company, 
 who were only awaiting the arrival of her husband 
 to take their leave, as it was hardly courteous to 
 leave her alone, and he had apologized for absent 
 ing himself in order to inquire for his mother. 
 Carolina was always terrified by the word death. 
 She had never set her own house in order, in ref 
 erence to that event. Her half-Catholic, half- 
 Protestant education for the former mode of 
 faith had been kept up by request during her 
 
 383
 
 REPENTANCE. 
 
 school life had resulted in a confused mingling 
 of ideas upon the subject, both of this life and the 
 future one. 
 
 She was therefore glad to see Helen, and to be 
 released from joining her husband, though Helen 
 was no special favorite of hers. Helen told her 
 all she needed to know, but she thought it best to 
 leave Ludovico to give his own account of his 
 mother s rapid decline. 
 
 Juanita had begged permission to pass the night 
 in the apartment of her beloved mistress. It was 
 late when she was left to her watch, and Ludovico 
 did not know of the arrangement. After bidding 
 his father good-night at his own bedside, he stole 
 back to weep once more in solitude over that 
 beloved form. 
 
 In the bitterness of the experience through 
 which he had passed, Ludovico had learned to 
 feel a new sympathy for his mother. Before his 
 love and marriage, his life had passed in a happy 
 unconsciousness of- any want of harmony in her 
 domestic relations ; but, when he looked at the 
 ashes of his own hopes and dreams, he became 
 sensitive to the relations of others. The fearful 
 features of slavery that had transpired to Miss 
 Wentworth had made him feel that there was no 
 one to whom his mother could fully unbosom her 
 self; and he often had longed to tell her of all his 
 disappointments and regrets, and to assure her 
 that she could confide in him without fear of hurt-
 
 REPENTANCE. 385 
 
 ing his feelings, as she might be doing to those of 
 her husband But the occasion had been neg 
 lected, and he could only say to himself, " Too 
 late! too late!" 
 
 When a son ceases to be in the attitude of a 
 child who must be reproved, if need be, his inter 
 course with his mother gradually becomes signally 
 like that of a lover, with only this difference, that 
 the confidence is more unwavering that, what 
 ever may be the mood of the moment, or the 
 apparent neglect growing out of the very assur 
 ance of love, no suspicion of love s alteration 
 occurs ; whereas, between lovers, even after mar 
 riage, there is always a sensitiveness in each party 
 lest the other, just in proportion as his or her 
 ideal becomes more fair, may see a discrepancy or 
 want. Conjugal love needs to be fed continually 
 by sweet assurance of appreciation, but the 
 parental and filial sentiments are based upon a 
 life-long knowledge, and identity of fibre which 
 precludes all fear. Ludovico had left his mother s 
 side to cleave to that of his wife, and in that 
 natural act there was no implication of want of 
 affection ; but, in this instance, all sympathy with 
 the wife had long ceased, and he often had left his 
 mother s side with regret. In this terrible mo 
 ment, he felt that she might not have understood 
 his reticence, which was purely for her sake, and 
 that she might have supposed his heart was in the 
 gay and reckless career which his wife led him. He
 
 3^6 REPENTA NCE. 
 
 could only ejaculate to himself: "She knows me 
 now ! she knows me now ! She must see me, 
 know me, but would to God I were sure of it ! " 
 He was unaware that there was any other person 
 present when he threw himself into the boutacle 
 which his mother always occupied in that room. 
 
 When his first paroxysm of bitter weeping had 
 subsided, he heard a suppressed breathing that 
 made him start from the chair. For one second 
 he thought it was his mother, but the next he saw 
 Juanita sitting on a footstool with her head on the 
 bed beside her. 
 
 A few ciirculios in a gourd gave a fitful light 
 as they beat their wings against their prison 
 walls. 
 
 She looked up as he sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Juanita ! I did not know you were here ! how 
 you startled me ! " 
 
 " Where else should I be ? " was her sad reply. 
 
 "Juanita! dear Juanita! how can I ever repay 
 you for your care of my dear, dear mother ? Ah ! 
 God, forgive me ! how I neglected her, and you 
 who are not her child, how you have watched 
 over her, nursed her, wearied yourself out with 
 her, when I seemed to be amusing myself with 
 what my heart hated ! Why did you not tell me 
 she was dying, Juanita ? Did you know it ? Do 
 you think I should have gone on dancing and 
 singing if I had known it ? Do you think she 
 thought me neglectful ? Won t you speak to me,
 
 REPENTANCE. 387 
 
 Juanita? you used to love me, dear Juanita speak, 
 or I shall go mad." 
 
 " She never said so," sobbed Juanita. 
 
 " No, but that means that she thought so, and 
 it was true. Don t you think so? you must talk 
 to me, Juanita ! " 
 
 And with these words he seized her round the 
 waist and drew her forcibly up to him. 
 
 She flung him from her. 
 
 " What if I should tell you yes ? would it make 
 you feel any better ? " she said, in a hollow voice. 
 Ludovico uttered a cry of agony, and staggered to 
 a seat. 
 
 Juanita sprang towards him, and seized his 
 hands. 
 
 " Cruel ! cruel ! " was all he could say. 
 
 " Why did you ask me ? She never said so, but 
 you did neglect her wishes, Ludovico. She saw 
 that you had no thought but for one ; and she did 
 not love her; you know she did not." 
 
 " I know ! I know ! Oh God ! my mother ! my 
 mother ! " And again he started to his feet, and 
 paced the room wildly ; then stopped short before 
 the trembling girl. 
 
 " Juanita ! you loved me once ! can you ever love 
 me again ? I am not worth your loving, or any 
 one s loving. Oh, my mother ! my mother ! Juanita, 
 what are you going to do ? Come and live with 
 me ! I will take care of you ! Do you want your 
 freedom ? What shall I do for you ? You were
 
 REPENTANCE. 
 
 my mother s child, and I was not. Juanita, what do 
 you wish ? " 
 
 " My freedom ! what good would that do me 
 now ? Where could I go with my freedom ? Oh, I 
 want to die. That is the only freedom I can have. 
 I have nothing to live for now ; I am worse off than 
 a slave, for I am more wretched than any." 
 
 " You are a slave, Juanita, it is true enough ; 
 but there is no justice in heaven if you must 
 always be one. Come and live with me I will 
 take care of you." 
 
 "Your wife will never wish me to do that," said 
 Juanita, bitterly. " She hates me now. In the 
 sight of God I am as free as you are, even accord 
 ing to your own wicked laws. My ancestors were 
 not slaves. They were free in their own land, 
 and here they were emancipados, and so are many 
 others who are called slaves, though they do not 
 know it. My soul has always been free. The 
 money that bought my grandmother was perjured 
 money, for she was free when she touched this 
 island, by your own laws. She planted the seeds 
 of freedom in the heart of my mother, and my 
 mother planted them in mine. She thought the 
 day might come when justice would be done. But 
 it will never be done. Give me my form of free 
 dom if you can, and I will take care of myself. 
 Perhaps I can find my poor brother he vowed 
 he would get his freedom or die. Take me away 
 from here I will take care of myself."
 
 REPENTANCE. 3^9 
 
 " You would not forsake me, Juanita ! " 
 
 " Forsake you ! you have friends enough a wife 
 to love you." 
 
 " Hush, for God s sake, hush ! " 
 
 He approached her and whispered, " She does 
 not love me, Juanita. She does not know how to 
 love any one but herself. She is incapable of 
 devotion to me or to any one." 
 
 Juanita placed her finger on his lips. 
 
 " Yes, I must not say it, I know ; but I will say 
 it to you, for you are capable of devotion, you can 
 love me. You are my best friend. I have neg 
 lected you. She has ill-treated you. She never 
 shall have a chance to do it again. If I had known 
 you wanted to be free, I would have gone clown 
 on my knees to get your freedom. I hate this 
 life; I hate slavery more every day. If you had 
 not been a slave, you would have been my wife 
 perhaps how I wish you were ! " 
 
 Juanita sank at his feet, and clasped his knees. 
 
 " Take me with you I will serve you always ! 
 even if I am free, but let me be free so that I may 
 not do it as a slave, and then she cannot treat me 
 ill." 
 
 " You shall go home with Miss Wentworth if 
 you wish to," said Ludovico, for he saw at a glance 
 the desolate position of the poor girl " and you 
 shall go a free woman " 
 
 When she found herself alone, Juanita threw 
 open the broad shutter to cool her burning brow.
 
 39 REPENTANCE. 
 
 The rich moonlight poured into the room, and who 
 can interpret the thoughts that poured through 
 that distracted brain, as she gazed long and in 
 tently at the broad disc of the beautiful moon, in 
 which so many hearts have been sown ! 
 
 Morning dawned as she stood there, and at 
 the sound of a footstep she started, and returned to 
 her watch. 
 
 The angelic light had faded from the counte 
 nance, now rigid and cold in death ; Juanita shud 
 dered. 
 
 Ludovico returned in the morning for Helen 
 and Carolina, and a long train of mourners at 
 tended the Marchioness to her temporary resting- 
 place in the village graveyard, to be removed at a 
 future time to the proud tomb of the Rodriguez in 
 the cemetery of Havana. 
 
 It was not a common occasion in the neighbor 
 hood, for, though vice was winked at, virtue is 
 honored everywhere, even there. 
 
 Wearily to all, the season of mourning passed 
 away. To Carolina it was only a privation that 
 tried her temper, and brought out more strikingly 
 her innate selfishness. Ludovico did not reproach 
 her, but neither did he express an affection he had 
 ceased to feel. He was wholly disenchanted, and 
 could with difficulty summon resolution to meet 
 the frivolous companions of Carolina s summer 
 hours. 
 
 The Countess of Lopez was her frequent guest.
 
 RE PENT A NCE. 39 1 
 
 Ludovico did not attempt to oppose Carolina upon 
 this point. He was resolved to live no longer in 
 Cuba if he could persuade his father to go abroad, 
 and that matter would take care of itself. The 
 Countess was too much a woman of the world not 
 to read a character of Ludovico s simplicity, and 
 took care not to intrude herself into his presence, 
 but she came at the hours he devoted to his father. 
 The Marquis gave himself up exclusively to his 
 children, and their innocent prattle gradually won 
 him from the depths of his first sorrow. To his 
 children alone did he ever speak of their dear 
 mother. He grieved, when it was too late, that he 
 had so rashly committed the happiness of Ludovico 
 to one so unworthy to fill her place. The father 
 and son drew nearer together than even in the 
 days of their unbroken happiness, for the deeper 
 suffering of disappointed affection made Ludovico 
 more truly wretched than even the bereaved 
 husband could be, whose record of love was pure.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 IN this hour of crushing bereavement, Helen 
 was sustained by the only friend she had yet made 
 in the island, excepting Isabella. Don Andres 
 Torres had proved not only the humane and effi 
 cient overseer, under whose rule no punishments 
 were necessary, for he ruled wisely and kindly, 
 and knew how to hold even those poor souls up to 
 some sense of duty, which helped also to make 
 him their idol ; but he was the honored friend of 
 the family, and both the Marquis and Ludovico, 
 as well as Helen, had leaned upon his strong arm. 
 He had beguiled many an hour of languid suffer 
 ing to the invalid, by his graphic descriptions of 
 countries visited, and by his sensible criticisms 
 of men and things, and in his own profession he 
 was an amateur, and had the rare power of making 
 his hearers see with him the beauty of the archi 
 tectural masterpieces of the world, which he had 
 carefully studied not only in their principles but 
 the structures themselves. The Basque tribe of 
 the Pyrenees, of which he was one, have a national 
 education, among other peculiarities of their insti 
 tutions, which raise them immeasurably above 
 
 392
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 393 
 
 all other Spanish nationalities. A love of freedom 
 characterizes them also, which would only throw 
 them by accident, as in this instance, into the 
 rank of overseers in a slave-holding community, 
 but Don Andres felt bound by his own inward 
 monitions to devote himself to the family of his 
 benefactor, and this was the only way in which he 
 could combine that duty with the bettering of his 
 fortunes, which had now become necessary for 
 their sakes. He filled the office in a manner 
 which showed that a good man can make himself 
 useful to his fellow-creatures even in such a posi 
 tion. If he could inspire others of his class to 
 labor on the same principles, the wretched popula 
 tion of the plantations might by degrees be fitted 
 for the care of themselves. This subject had 
 often been discussed with him in the family of the 
 Marquis of Rodriguez, but there were difficulties 
 in Cuba, where the slave-trade was in such active 
 operation, that might not be found in the United 
 States. The constant succession of fresh slaves, 
 who are purchased from many different tribes, 
 speaking different dialects and inheriting different 
 traditions, makes it impossible to prepare Cuban 
 slaves for freedom, except by training them in the 
 families of the mountain peasantry. Another dif 
 ficulty is that of making innovations among a 
 people so nationally ignorant as the inhabitants of 
 the Spanish Colonies. No hope of such a change 
 existed, except in the possibility of annexation to 
 the United States.
 
 394 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 But there were two aspects to this annexation. 
 One was that the progress of society would event 
 ually destroy slavery in a land whose government 
 was based on freedom, the other, and this was 
 widely entertained, that slavery would be the more 
 firmly secured, but that its condition would admit 
 of ameliorations sooner than in Cuba, because of 
 the general superiority of the masses in the States, 
 growing out of the idea of popular education. 
 Upon the whole, it was rather a vague notion of 
 benefit, and there was therefore a want of vitality 
 in it. The United States government desired the 
 annexation for commercial and political interests, 
 but these advantages would be accompanied by 
 many evils, and thus it has remained for the 
 colonists to realize the weight of Spanish greed 
 before anything like a revolution transpired. 
 
 Since this narrative was written, slavery in the 
 United States has been abolished, at least in name, 
 and the movement, has been initiated in Cuba. 
 Such institutions as slavery leave their traces long 
 and deeply scored on the public mind. That no 
 human being can legally be enslaved again in our 
 land must satisfy us for the present. The genera 
 tion that has been in slavery must pass away 
 before its traditions can make it possible for any 
 thing like equality to exist, but may we not justly 
 hope that in a land where all men have a right to 
 education and to the enjoyments of their own 
 earnings, the day may come when, as in England,
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 395 
 
 whose soil has never been polluted by slavery, the 
 mere color of the skin will be no bar to social 
 equality. Practically, it is no bar to the affec 
 tions. The basis of mutual respect will alone 
 elevate the inferior race. I use the word inferior 
 in a popular sense, not in a radical one, for the 
 natural characteristics of the colored race have 
 more affinity with what we call the Christian graces 
 than those of the one whose powerful grasp has so 
 long held it in bondage. We laugh unreflectingly 
 at the boast we sometimes hear from the colored 
 race, that it is a better one than the white race. If 
 to give the other cheek to the aggressor is a 
 Christian grace, which race deserves the pre 
 ponderance in that Christian forbearance ? Surely 
 not the one that has all the power. 
 
 Helen had the pleasure of often hearing the 
 Spaniards express kindly and sympathetic feelings 
 for the slaves, but it rested there, proving only 
 how difficult it is for even the worst institutions 
 to ruin the souls, created in the image of God, by 
 which is meant endowed with his attributes of 
 love and mercy. 
 
 No word of Don Andres private history had 
 ever transpired to his present friend. There was 
 in him a certain barrier of dignified reserve that 
 guarded him from all inquiry. But Helen often 
 felt that it would melt at the touch of a friend 
 ship near enough to be an assurance of confi 
 dence, and, with the true sensibility and delicacy
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 of a noble woman, she avoided lifting a veil which 
 might admit her into a sanctuary that she had no 
 right to invade, and which it would therefore be 
 cruel to penetrate. 
 
 The Marquis had become very dependent upon 
 him, and Helen rejoiced to leave Ludovico with 
 so wise and sympathizing a friend, and one who 
 entered with so much humanity into his plans for 
 ameliorating the condition of his sugar-plantation. 
 If he could not educate his slaves, he could 
 lighten their labors by the introduction of the 
 mills worked by the steam-engine which some 
 American planters had, with Yankee energy, 
 brought into use there. The standstill Spaniards 
 were gradually opening their eyes to the advan 
 tages of these wonderful innovations, at the same 
 time that they swore at the innovators over the 
 lime hedges. And they had already borrowed 
 them in many instances. 
 
 When the Marquis spoke with Helen of the 
 children, he could only say that he could not yet 
 part with them, but by and by he would him 
 self take them to Helen and place them under her 
 care while he prosecuted with Ludovico the long 
 projected tour. He wished him to shut up his 
 house, or still leave it under the care of Larimon ; 
 but Carolina objected to this arrangement. She 
 knew too well what would be the penalties under 
 the firm rule of her uncle. 
 
 Carolina s ennuyed neighbors were only too glad
 
 HO ME IV ART) BOUND. S97 
 
 for a place of resort, and came to her in ox-carts 
 when the mud was too deep for other vehicles and 
 more slender-legged animals than the sturdy oxen. 
 Carolina was not unwilling that Ludovico should 
 absent himself on such occasions, for his deep 
 melancholy was neither understood nor sympa 
 thized with by her shallow companions. 
 
 Ludovico turned his attention now to the con 
 dition of his " people," and succeeded in interest 
 ing his father upon the subject. He could not set 
 them free nor forsake a slave-holder s life without 
 the concurrence of Carolina, but he could make 
 less sugar rather than waste the lives of his slaves, 
 or kill off their children by unnatural labors. 
 
 It was necessary now to facilitate Helen s de 
 parture before the roads became impassable by the 
 summer rains, or the yellow fever infested the 
 vessels. The Marquis accompanied her to the 
 city. Don Andres had hoped this escort might 
 devolve upon himself, for to him Helen s depar 
 ture was as the withdrawal of the sun from the 
 heavens. But the Marquis could not so far for 
 get what was due to his wife s friend as to allow 
 such a departure from established customs, and, 
 placing Helen in one volante, with Mrs. Warwick 
 to matronize her, he took another himself, leaving 
 Ludovico to preside over the nursery, and at day 
 break they left the plantation. 
 
 Don Andres was in waiting at the great gate, 
 which he opened for the travellers. Helen held
 
 39 8 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 out her hand to him, which he reverently kissed. 
 " God be thanked that I have known you ! " were 
 his parting words. " I ask nothing more of him ! " 
 he added, after a moment s pause. 
 
 Helen could not answer them, but her tearful 
 eyes assured him that she valued his regard and 
 respected his reserve, which she had never given 
 him an opportunity to break. 
 
 "That man is out of place here," said Mrs. 
 Warwick, after they had left the plantation en 
 tirely behind them. 
 
 " A good man is always in place," said Helen, 
 " and I think the poor slaves would hardly agree 
 with you." 
 
 " Indeed, they would not ; it is a happy day for 
 them. I could not stay there alone, if he were 
 not to be there." 
 
 It was the Marquis purpose to send his little 
 daughter, and probably Manuel, with Mrs. Warwick, 
 to Helen s care, in the fall, and then to accompany 
 his son to France. Helen had petitioned that 
 Juanita might be sent with them, and this re 
 quest was readily acceded to. Helen was happy 
 to be able to inform Juanita of this arrangement 
 before she left her. She also spoke of it to Ludo- 
 vico, who gladly assented, and expressed himself so 
 well pleased, indeed, that Helen was sure he would 
 promote it when the hour of fulfilment came. She 
 commended Juanita most earnestly to the care of 
 Mrs. Warwick, who promised to shield her from 
 harm to the best of her power.
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 399 
 
 It was a sad day for the little girls when they 
 parted with their kind friend, but the promised 
 visit filled their imaginations with delight. Helen 
 was confident they would be tenderly watched 
 over by their father, and of Mrs. Warwick s de 
 votion there could not be a suspicion. She re 
 joiced that Carolina was to remain in her own 
 house, for her influence could be only baleful. 
 
 When they arrived in Havana, the Marquis re 
 mained but an .hour in the house of the friend who 
 received them, and with fresh horses immediately 
 left the city, for fear of heavy rains that might de 
 tain him from his family, to which Mrs. Warwick 
 was also too important to remain absent more 
 than a single day. 
 
 A hurried visit to Dona Lucia and Tulita re 
 vealed the fact to Helen that Tulita had been se 
 cretly married to the young Count of Carova 
 since her visit to the country. The word " se 
 cretly " is not perhaps the appropriate one here, 
 for the ceremony had taken place in the Gover 
 nor s mansion, and under his own eye and sanction. 
 The young man knew that his father would not 
 consent to his marriage with the daughter of the 
 slaver while there was a chance left that his title 
 might make him acceptable to a more respectable 
 match ; but the son had tried his fortunes, too often 
 with other offers to be willing to relinquish this 
 prospect of wealth, and the Governor-General has 
 power to sanction stolen marriages when he thinks
 
 4 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 fit. The Count s father had sorely offended him 
 once, and when the young man represented the 
 wealth he should enjoy by the alliance and no 
 one knows what more substantial interests of his 
 own might be added, for why is not the bribe of a 
 Castilian noble as respectable as the blood-money 
 of a slave? his petition was granted. The irre 
 proachable character of the lady could not be 
 gainsaid, and the opportunity of revenge on the 
 part of the Governor-General was not to be lost. 
 
 But neither Dona Lucia nor Tulita was happy. 
 They had been unwilling parties to the marriage, 
 strange as it may appear. Tulita s confidence in 
 the young Count s affection had been destroyed 
 during her visit to the country, which her father 
 had favored for the sake of securing the match for 
 his daughter ; but Dona Lucia was too good a 
 mother to wish for such a connection. Nor was 
 the object yet attained of forcing Tulita into the 
 aristocratic circles of the city, for as yet the old 
 Marquis had refused to receive her. It was^ not 
 probable, till the young Count should inherit his 
 title, that Tulita would attain the position for 
 which her father had sacrificed her happiness. 
 
 Helen was glad to bid adieu to the unhappy 
 mother and daughter and the dissipated husband, 
 who evidently felt himself made of a superior 
 stratum of the clay which covers this mundane 
 sphere. But the money of the slaver was as good 
 as the money of nobles, to pay for wines, horses,
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 4 l 
 
 operas, and the debts incurred at the gambling- 
 table. In such states of society as exist in the 
 Spanish colonies, the heart is the last thing to be 
 consulted in marriage. Even the titled leper, a 
 form of humanity not rare in Cuba, can command 
 a beautiful and a wealthy wife, for raisons de con- 
 venance, as the French phrase expresses marrying 
 for an establishment or a title. 
 
 But the pure ocean would soon roll between 
 her and this corruption, and she was still under 
 the delusion that her own country was free from 
 it. She knew, however, that the giant form of 
 Caste had not been exorcised from the most ad 
 vanced state of human brotherhood that yet ex 
 isted ; but her heart bounded at the thought of 
 returning to a society founded upon the theory of 
 equality in human rights, and in which a more 
 equal culture had already begun to establish an 
 equality in social privileges. Our ideals go before 
 us, ever beckoning on ; and, in spite of her late ex 
 perience, her faith was still unshaken that the 
 influence of that theory would filter through the 
 lowest depths of evil, even to slavery itself, the 
 "sum of all villanies." A little leaven leaveneth 
 the whole lump.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 DISSIPATION. 
 
 WHEN the season of mourning had passed away, 
 which custom in Cuban life fixes at six months, 
 Carolina threw off her sable dress, and launched 
 again into the dissipations of plantation life. 
 Ludovico found it necessary to follow her into 
 these gay scenes, but it was with such an altered 
 mien that every one remarked the change. It 
 seemed as if all whom he met sympathized in his 
 sorrow, except his thoughtless wife, who, disap 
 pointed of her city visit, determined to compensate 
 herself by making the most of country pleasures. 
 Even the Countess of Lopez had deserted her in 
 the heavy rains, and left her to the society ef a 
 few families who could not afford to solace the 
 tedious months of bad weather in the city. But 
 that lady now returned to her plantation with a 
 retinue of visitors, and music and dancing were 
 the order of the day, as well as of the evening. 
 The Marquis did not come out of his solitude ex 
 cept to accompany Ludovico in the superinten 
 dence of his plantation, and so highly had the 
 Marchioness been respected that no one intruded 
 at present upon his retirement. 
 
 402
 
 DISSIPA TION. 4O3 
 
 Juanita devoted herself to the children, whom 
 Ludovico often visited, and to whom he endeav 
 ored partially to fill the place of that tender 
 mother whom they so fondly loved and remem 
 bered. He was glad to have them remain at home 
 for a time, that this memory might not be oblit 
 erated by new scenes, as well as for his own 
 solace. 
 
 Carolina had never shown the least interest in 
 them, and was now too much occupied with her 
 independent pleasures to give them either her 
 time or her thoughts. She could hardly find 
 leisure to dwell upon her own expectations of be 
 coming a mother, and when she did think of it, it 
 was only with a vague terror, and this dread made 
 her rush more recklessly than ever into dissipa 
 tion. Mrs. Warwick once ventured to give her 
 a friendly warning, and even suggested that she 
 should make La Consolation her home for the 
 winter, that she might take care of her, but Caro 
 lina preferred to take her chance with old Celia 
 rather than submit to the comparative solitude 
 to which a winter at La Consolation would con 
 demn her. 
 
 Carolina could not resist the temptation of at 
 tending the first village ball of the holidays, and 
 on her way home was suddenly taken ill and 
 brought to La Consolation, which was on the way 
 to her own residence. Before morning she was 
 the mother of a daughter, and the young wife and
 
 404 DISSIPA TION. 
 
 mother lay all unconscious of her new relation and 
 responsibilities, ready to pay the dearest price 
 for the reckless imprudence she had indulged in, 
 even that of her own life. 
 
 In the confusion and terror consequent upon 
 this scene, the new-born babe was wrapped in a 
 blanket and laid upon a couch, while Mrs. War. 
 wick and old Camilla were engaged in endeavoring 
 to restore Carolina. 
 
 Ludovico had heard the cry of his child with a 
 feeling wholly unknown to his breast before, and 
 he left his watch by Carolina s side for a few 
 moments to take it in his arms. His impulse was 
 to carry it to Juanita, whom he now perceived was 
 not present. He darted from the room with it to 
 seek her apartment, which was at some distance. 
 The door was closed, and he knocked, but received 
 no answer. He opened it. It was just at dawn, 
 and by the faint light he saw that Juanita was 
 lying in the bed, with her head partially covered. 
 
 " Are you ill, Juanita ?" he said, stepping in. 
 
 Juanita started on hearing his voice, and saw 
 him with his infant, whom he placed by her side. 
 
 "Will you take care of it for me, Juanita? I 
 fear its mother is dying." 
 
 She held out her arms for it. 
 
 " God bless you, Juanita, and I will take care of 
 you both." 
 
 He stooped and kissed her forehead, and rushed 
 from the room, to find that Carolina had breathed 
 her last.
 
 DISSIPA TION. 45 
 
 Ludovico was thrown back into his old home 
 by the death of Carolina, and devoted himself to 
 his father and to watching over the motherless 
 little ones that surrounded him. He said little to 
 Juanita, but looked upon the miracle of her love 
 for his child with reverence and awe. He truly 
 felt that he had had no wife, that he was the 
 victim of an empty delusion. There was some 
 thing in the atmosphere of Juanita s presence that 
 forbade his approaching her on terms of former 
 ease, but it purified and ennobled him to witness 
 her devotion to her charge. She allowed no one 
 to share the care. No vigils wearied her, but her 
 figure rounded into the proportions of perfect 
 health and symmetrical beauty, and as the time 
 approached when they were to go to Helen, even 
 melodious song, such as had been the natural lan 
 guage of her childish days, was heard to issue 
 from her lips when she was conscious of no pres 
 ence but that of the child. As Mrs. Warwick ex 
 pressed it, she had " turned into a mother ! " 
 
 When spring came and made it possible to visit 
 northern shores with impunity, both father and 
 son, leaving their estates in the care of the good 
 and wise Don Andres, accompanied the children 
 to Massachusetts, where Helen had already se 
 cured a house in a rural village for their recep 
 tion. Her life now had an object worthy to 
 engross all her thoughts. She adopted the chil 
 dren of her friend in the true spirit of a mother,
 
 DISSIPA TION. 
 
 and felt that all the experiences of her life had but 
 fitted her for the duty. The Marquis and Ludo- 
 vico passed a few weeks with them, and then went 
 upon their long-anticipated tour, which had be 
 come a needed change for the Marquis. 
 
 When Ludovico visited them again, Isabella 
 was three years old, and as lovely a child as the 
 eye could see. She bore no resemblance to her 
 mother, but a very close one to Ludovico. He 
 did not come unexpectedly, but the occasion was 
 one of feverish anxiety to Juanita. The Marquis 
 had returned to Cuba, and wished Ludovico to 
 join him there. Juanita feared he might wish 
 to take the child, and how could she part with it ? 
 She had been made free by the act of the Marquis, 
 at Helen s earnest entreaty ; but what position 
 could she fill in her former home ? Her beauty, 
 refinement, and cultivated mind suggested no 
 thought of the bondwoman, and Helen had put 
 her into the position of a relative of the family 
 who had taken charge of the orphaned babe. 
 
 Ludovico s letters had at first been frequent and 
 full of fatherly feeling, but Helen had begun to 
 wonder at his prolonged absence, and was much 
 relieved at last to learn from him that the travel 
 lers had visited the mother-country, at the sugges 
 tion of Don Andres, where his father thought it 
 possible the home government, with which he had 
 some relations, might be influenced, by one who 
 had no selfish aims, to check the increasing
 
 DISSIPA TION. 47 
 
 encroachments on Cuban liberties, that had in 
 spired much discontent in the inhabitants who were 
 disposed to be loyal, but would not bear oppres 
 sion, and already showed strong inclination to be 
 annexed to the United States. He represented the 
 capacities of the island as immeasurable, and that 
 in fact but a small part of its resources had been 
 developed. But the home government continued to 
 pile the imposts upon every industry and interest, 
 until prosperity was impossible in any direction. 
 When the exorbitant prices of the island mer 
 chants were complained of, the answer was that 
 even the slightest privileges of trade were so 
 heavily taxed that prices could not be reasonable. 
 Hatred of the mother-country was increasing 
 rapidly. The increase of commercial relations 
 which was marked at that period brought no 
 fruits to Cuba, and it was desirable that the truth 
 should be told by patriotic Cubans. The Marquis 
 returned disappointed and full of forebodings. His 
 efforts proved to be in vain. 
 
 When the South American colonies had thrown 
 off the Spanish yoke in 1810, and asserted their 
 independence, Cuba did not follow the lead, and 
 was then designated by the home government as 
 " our ever faithful isle of Cuba." But the Cuban 
 people were descendants of the very Spaniards 
 who tyrannized over them, and gradually learned 
 to hate the mother-country, which showed such 
 rapacious greed, and so little sympathy for their 
 true interests.
 
 4-O8 DISSIPA TION. 
 
 Neither Ludovico nor his father had been aware 
 of the changes that had taken place in the island 
 during their absence. Tacon was deposed in 
 1838 which was due partly to the despotism he 
 showed, and partly because he threatened to over 
 haul the slave-trade. Thousands of free negroes 
 were found in the city of Havana. A syndic 
 there enabled them to purchase their freedom if 
 they could hoard the means to do it, which syndic 
 did not operate in the rural districts. Some of 
 these free negroes are artisans, many are musi 
 cians. The public coachmen, or caleseros, form a 
 strong body, and, in truth, life in the island city 
 is one long nightmare of terror. It is impossible 
 to give any history here of the effects of bad 
 legislation, of the cupidity of many of the gover 
 nors of the island, of the iniquitous practices that 
 are constantly put in use to conceal the land 
 ing and selling of slaves, which have been illegal 
 since 1820. Large buildings may be seen, by 
 those who know how to seek for them, in which 
 bozals who have been well fed, fattened, one 
 may say, and cured of the terrible diseases 
 consequent upon the middle passage, are held 
 for sale, sometimes openly, sometimes covertly 
 According to the best known -statistics upon 
 the subject, the policy being to work the slaves 
 to the top of their strength and import new 
 ones when they are exhausted, the average life 
 of a Cuban slave is from seven to eight years
 
 DISSIPA TION. 409 
 
 only. The importations consist, of course, of 
 various tribes, some of which are more easily sub 
 dued than others. Those who care to look over 
 the details of the slave-trade, gleaned often from 
 the narrations of the slaves themselves, and often 
 from the reports of the missionaries, must be aware 
 that many slaves are brought from localities where 
 much domestic happiness and even worldly pros 
 perity are found. Little opportunity is afforded 
 for any play of natural character in the life of a 
 slave, especially in a country where they are 
 worked as no man works an ox or a horse. But 
 when they emerge from bondage, if any health 
 and strength are left in them, native characteristics 
 reappear, and great sagacity and thrift are often 
 seen in their modes of life and self-maintenance, 
 for they do learn something from their painful 
 experiences. 
 
 The confusion created by a succession of rulers 
 each following the policy his own self-interest 
 suggests, gives rise to many evils that are not 
 found in United States slavery. Within a few 
 years, great suspicions had arisen in regard to 
 the free negroes. It was supposed they were 
 forming a wide conspiracy, and unusual cruelties 
 had been exercised to extort confessions. By the 
 laws of the island, any slave could purchase his 
 freedom for five hundred dollars. On the planta 
 tions every means was resorted to to prevent the 
 accumulation of so much money, and when it
 
 4 r O DISSIPA TION. 
 
 was fairly in possession it would often disappear 
 mysteriously, sometimes by the connivance of the 
 masters themselves. But in cities, where slaves 
 were hired out, it was not so difficult for them to 
 obtain and successfully conceal money.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 LUDOVICO came upon Helen one evening unex 
 pectedly. The children were playing upon the 
 piazza, after a warm day : Luisa knew him at 
 once, and her joyful exclamation brought Helen 
 to the door. Isabella was already in her father s 
 arms, but a little frightened, and stretched out 
 hers to Helen, who took her from him. 
 
 "What a lovely little being!" he exclaimed. 
 She bore no resemblance to her mother, but a 
 marked one to himself. " And is this tall boy 
 Manuel ? And my little Pepita grown up too ! 
 It seems as if I were at home again, indeed. And 
 dear Mrs. Warwick ! And where is Juanita ? " 
 he added, with some difficulty. 
 
 " I will find her," said Luisa, springing into the 
 house ; and she called, "Juanita! Juanita! Ludovico 
 has come ! " and dragged Juanita forth, who had 
 lingered within to compose herself for the dreaded 
 interview. 
 
 " Are you going to Cuba, Ludo ? " said Luisa. 
 "Oh, do stay here with Aunt Helen." 
 
 " I am not going back to Cuba," said Manuel. 
 " I shall stay here and go to college." 
 
 411
 
 4 12 THE RETURN. 
 
 "Why did not papa come?" inquired Pepita. 
 " Is not papa coming ? " and her lip quivered. 
 
 "Papa has gone to Cuba," said Ludovico, "and 
 wants his daughters to come and live with him 
 and Aunt Maria." 
 
 "I do not know Aunt Maria," said Luisa; 
 "papa must come here. Can t papa live with us 
 here, Aunt Helen ? " 
 
 " If he would like to, we should be very glad," 
 said Helen, " but Cuba is papa s home. I hoped 
 your father would remain in France, at least, 
 where we could have joined him," she added, 
 addressing Ludovico. 
 
 " I hoped it, but business called him back, and 
 I fear I shall not win him from there again." 
 
 " Will Bella and Juanita go ? " said Pepita. " I 
 want to see papa, but I wish he would come here. 
 If I write him a letter, will he come ? Do you 
 want to go, Juanita ? I don t like to see those 
 black people ; do you?" 
 
 " I like this better, dear," replied Juanita. 
 
 " I shall let my little daughter stay with Aunt 
 Helen for the present," said Ludovico. " We 
 will not go yet ; perhaps papa will go back to 
 France, if I urge him very much, and then we will 
 all go there." 
 
 " And Aunt Helen and Mrs. Warwick ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; we cannot live without them ; 
 can we ? " 
 
 "Will you go, Aunt Helen?" inquired Pepita.
 
 THE RETURN 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Helen, smiling. 
 
 " Oh, joyful, joyful ! Will you write to papa 
 and tell him so, Ludo ? " 
 
 " Yes, I will, my little Pepita. I do not know 
 what we should all have done but for Aunt 
 Helen. Miss Wentworth, you must let me call 
 you Aunt Helen too. I have not had a home 
 feeling since I left you till now. I wish papa was 
 with us, indeed." 
 
 And, saying this, he started up, and walked 
 down the path that led to the garden. 
 
 Helen withdrew th@ children, whose hour for 
 retiring had come, and left Juanita still sitting 
 upon the piazza. When Ludovico returned from 
 his walk, he found her still there. 
 
 " Juanita, you are free now. Does it make you 
 happy ? " 
 
 "Happy? Yes no I do not know. Oh, 
 my God ! if I could only die ! " 
 
 " No, you shall not die ! Live for me be my 
 wife ! I wish it, and the world is big enough. 
 No one need to interfere," and he drew her head 
 upon his breast, where she gradually sobbed her 
 self into calmness. 
 
 " Go, now," he said at last, caressing her fondly, 
 " and I will tell Miss Wentworth." He took the 
 sleeping child in his arms, and carried it to her 
 door. 
 
 " Oh, my mother, my mother ! Perhaps she 
 will forgive me now ! "
 
 THE RETURN 
 
 Ludovico excused himself for the night, for he 
 did not feel equal to the task of imparting to 
 Helen the fruits of his long banishment. 
 
 Long and deeply did Juanita commune with 
 herself as she tossed sleepless that night. 
 
 " Can I do this thing ? " she asked herself. " It 
 will ruin his earthly life. His father will never 
 consent to it or forgive him. It is enough for me 
 that he wishes it. If I marry him, I shall be a 
 dark cloud upon his life." 
 
 With this resolve she at last slept ; and, when 
 she rose in the morning, her first care was to find 
 Ludovico, and tell him her decision. He remon 
 strated, but she was firm. 
 
 There was something in her mien that awed 
 him into silence. She told him she would devote 
 herself to his child, and that should be her happi 
 ness. 
 
 " You have made me as happy as I ever can be 
 by wishing me to be your wife, but do not tell 
 your father even of your wish. There would be 
 no happiness for either of us in marrying. Nor 
 would your mother sanction our marriage, I am 
 very sure. I should feel as if I betrayed her con 
 fidence in me, if I should comply with your 
 request. But I am not afraid to return to Cuba 
 under your protection, though it must be as Isa 
 bella s nurse." 
 
 She did not appear at the breakfast table that 
 morning, for she did not know what might have
 
 THE RETURN. 4 r 5 
 
 been said to Miss Wentworth ; but when the lat 
 ter at last sought her in her room, she found her 
 languid and silent, but tranquil, and was convinced 
 that the interview on the piazza the evening be 
 fore had soothed the feverish agitation with which 
 she had awaited Ludovico s coming. 
 
 Juanita s habitual life-long reserve did not yield, 
 and it was easier for her to keep the secret of her 
 happiness than would have been possible to one 
 who had not always veiled her soul from human 
 eyes. Indeed, she did not know what to do with 
 happiness. The hopeless suffering of her life had 
 almost destroyed the capacity for enjoyment. The 
 nearest approach to it had been in the care of Isa 
 bella. She had felt that here she could in some 
 measure requite her beloved protectress for her 
 care and culture for she had imbibed her prin 
 ciple of disinterested love, and felt power to im 
 part it again, and was it not Ludovico s child, 
 too ? She bore no malice to its mother, for 
 malice was not an ingredient of her nature. 
 
 No movement could be made in regard to the 
 children till letters should come from the Mar 
 quis. They came in due time. Ludovico com 
 municated the intelligence that his father was 
 safe at home, and the next time he saw Helen 
 alone he said to her : 
 
 " You will be surprised at what I have to tell 
 you, dear Miss Wentworth, but I hope it will be a 
 pleasant surprise. My father begs me to return
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 at once with all the family, for he feels that his 
 own health is failing, and he wishes to gather 
 them about him again. I shall never return to 
 Cuba to live, and I regret the necessity of this 
 visit, but how can I refuse it to a dying father? " 
 
 He paused a moment before he added : 
 
 " Miss Wentworth, I wish to marry Juanita." 
 
 Helen s heart gave a bound. 
 
 " Thank God, if you can do. it ! Have you told 
 her so ? " 
 
 " I have, and she received it as a pure woman 
 should. She has long known of my love for her ; 
 she knew it even before she ought to have done 
 so. She knew I ought not to have told her, but 
 she had the moral strength to make me feel it, 
 and I found her unapproachable. I am sure my 
 mother would approve our marriage, but she does 
 not think so, and is sure that my father would 
 probably discard me. I do not suppose he 
 would ever forgive me. I could not marry her 
 there, for it is against the laws of the country ; 
 but even my father s disapproval would not deter 
 me from doing it elsewhere, if Juanita would con 
 sent to it. But she refuses it decidedly, and is 
 impervious to all remonstrances. She says she 
 will neither ruin my life, nor embitter the end of 
 my father s. She is capable of the highest action, 
 Miss Wentworth, and I realize my inferiority to 
 her. Do not call my proposal to marry her a sac 
 rifice on my part, for it is not so. This purpose is
 
 TflE RETURN. 4 1 7 
 
 all that has kept me from going mad since I killed 
 my mother. Ah, Miss Wentvvorth, you know it 
 was I that killed her ! Do you believe the de 
 parted watch over us ? " 
 
 "I do, indeed," said Helen, speaking through 
 her tears, but they were not tears of sorrow- 
 " Your mother is happier in heaven for all this 
 noble purpose in you, if I know what heaven is." 
 
 " Oh, make me believe it, and I can be happy 
 again." 
 
 " Your own heart will assure you of it. These 
 affections were not given us to perish with the 
 body. Life is but a school in which we learn our 
 selves, our powers, and our duties, and sometimes 
 we learn only through failures ; but I have a 
 happy faith that we shall grow into all that is 
 noble and holy at last, and you are on the right 
 path, Ludovico. Juanita is in every way worthy 
 of you, and you are worthy of her. You have 
 conquered a prejudice that holds half the world 
 in thrall, -for the prejudice of caste is the most 
 difficult one to overcome. I hope that even your 
 father may see the nobleness of your act. You 
 will go to France, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes, as soon as I can bring the children back, 
 and if he will join us. If he will come to me 
 there, we can all be happy ; but, if not, we shall 
 all suffer to the end. He thinks he shall not live 
 long ; he cannot lay down the burden of grief, 
 and I fear that it is wearing him away."
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 " But you must not expect Juanita ever to for 
 get the horrors of bondage, or to be gay and light- 
 hearted. Her happiness will be as solemn as her 
 despair has been. I have watched over her with 
 such intense interest that I think I know her 
 well. She is a rare creature. Her devotion to 
 your child proves it, and proves her love for you, 
 which is not new to me, for I have always seen 
 that it existed." 
 
 " I have often wondered," said Ludovico, " how 
 the slaves can have any feeling but one of enmity 
 towards us. They are certainly a forgiving race, 
 and I do not think, as many do, that they are 
 wanting in manliness because they do not strike 
 for their freedom. Such measures are taken to 
 subdue them that, in proportion to their intelli 
 gence, they give up the endeavor. They show 
 much ability when they have any opportunity of 
 acting freely, as the free negroes of the city 
 prove ; and, for my part, I do not like them any 
 the less for being false to their masters, for it is 
 the only way in which they can exercise their free 
 will. Ah, it is a sad subject ! I wish I could 
 forget it ! " 
 
 " It will never be done away with," said Helen, 
 " till those who feel its wickedness dwell upon it 
 long enough to find a remedy for it. I have faith, 
 not founded in experience but in hope, that it will 
 yet be abolished in my own country ; not because 
 I see any steps taken toward that end by our gov-
 
 THE RETURN. 4*9 
 
 eminent, but because it must fade before the 
 advancing light of truth." 
 
 " I wish I knew what to do for the cause of 
 freedom for all men," said Ltidovico, after a pause. 
 " Wherever I travel, I see men free in proportion 
 to their enlightenment, and so I wish to give 
 those in my power the help of supporting them 
 selves, which is the first step. Cuba is in a sad 
 state of anarchy, as we see when we look at it 
 from abroad, and I wish it could be annexed to 
 the United States, as the first step in reform." 
 
 Little did the friends then know that the re 
 sponsive wish for annexation, which the States 
 had so clearly expressed, had far different objects 
 in view in forming that wish. To extend the area 
 of slavery was their aim at that day. 
 
 The conversation flowed back into a more per 
 sonal character, and ended with Ludovico s saying 
 that he wished to make his home in Switzerland, 
 and that the time might come when he could 
 overcome Juanita s scruples, but Helen could not 
 encourage him in this hope. She felt satisfied 
 that the love which had been Juanita s religion 
 had purified her, that the divine life had flowed 
 into her through that sentiment, untarnished by 
 any alloy of selfishness, but that she loved Ludo- 
 vico too well to marry him. 
 
 " What shall I do without my darling little 
 family ? " she said ; " I could hardly love children 
 of my own more."
 
 4 20 THE RETURA?. 
 
 " Do not speak of separating yourself from us, 
 dear Miss Wentworth. I cannot ask you to go to 
 Cuba with the little girls, but I shall hope to per 
 suade my father to go to France, and then we 
 can all be together. I do not think America 
 would be congenial for him. Ke is as earnest as I 
 am that you should have the care of the children s 
 education. Does any one here know that Juanita 
 was a slave ? " 
 
 " No one has ever suspected it. I have always 
 given her your family name, and left it to be in 
 ferred that she is a Spanish relative. I do not 
 think the children ever thought of her as a slave, 
 or as one of the black people of whom they 
 often speak. If Manuel regards her as such, he 
 has never intimated it to me." 
 
 " The little girls wrote you that I had opened a 
 small family school for their benefit, as there is 
 no good school in this village, and companionship 
 adds so much to the pleasure of study. Since 
 that time I have taken Juanita as my assistant in 
 drawing, and paid her a salary, which gives her a 
 feeling of independence and a realizing sense of 
 her freedom, which nothing else could give. She 
 refused all compensation at first, but I was imper 
 ative upon that point. 
 
 " Such has been her success in the school that 
 she has been importuned to take outside pupils. 
 I have always adorned my home with her beau 
 tiful works, so that they have spoken for them 
 selves.
 
 THE RETURN. 4 21 
 
 " I told her that if anything happened to me now 
 she could feel that she stood on her own feet, as I 
 do myself. Next to being a slave it is humiliating 
 to be a pauper. 
 
 " Dear Aunt Helen ! I too inherit a degree of 
 mathematical talent that will at any time give me 
 an independent position if other resources fail." 
 And Ludovico laughed with a feeling of pleasure 
 that quite surprised himself. "I might be your 
 mathematical professor, perhaps." 
 
 "When I was a child I was always amusing my 
 self with inventing mathematical games, which 
 dear mama would play with me, and I once taught 
 her algebra, of which she proved quite an apt 
 scholar. " I suppose she too inherited the talent 
 from my grandfather." 
 
 " I am so much of a New Englander," said 
 Helen, "as to think it is better to inherit talents 
 than fortunes. I wish Manuel was your mathe 
 matical pupil, for he finds it difficult to excel in that 
 direction." 
 
 " No, Manuel is a dreamer, and will always be 
 one," said Ludovico. " Let him follow his bent. 
 That is the only way to excel in anything. I re 
 member how you were Pallas-Minerva to him after 
 you read them the Iliad, and you will always fill 
 that place to him." 
 
 " He is very happy here among the boys," said 
 Miss Wentworth, "and I never can rejoice enough 
 that he is no longer in Cuba. The fact of slavery
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 and its attendant horrors spoiled the universe to 
 him. With that blot upon it, it was not God s 
 world. I hope Cuba will in future be more of a 
 dream than a reality to him." 
 
 To return to his desolate home under these cir 
 cumstances, was no panacea for the Marquis fail 
 ing health. The next letters Ludovico received 
 were from Don Andres, informing him that his 
 father was failing rapidly, and begging him, in his 
 name, to come home, and bring all the children. 
 It would only be a visit, for the most skilful phy 
 sicians had assured him that his father s days were 
 numbered. He also wrote that old Camilla had 
 died just before his father s return. 
 
 No time was to be lost, and preparations were 
 hurried through to comply with the request. Lu 
 dovico left it optional with Juanita to accompany 
 them or to remain with Helen till his return, but 
 Juanita: chose to go. 
 
 Nothing that proved Juanita s nobility of char 
 acter could surprise Helen, as she freely told her ; 
 but when Juanita said that to marry her would be 
 Ludovico s ruin with his father and his Cuban 
 friends, she saw that it was so indeed. 
 
 Juanita chose to go back, with the clear under 
 standing that in so doing she resumed the subor 
 dinate position of a servant for the time. 
 
 " She is as wise as she is good ! " was Mrs. War 
 wick s comment when Helen told her of Juanita s 
 decision.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 CUBA. 
 
 LUDOVICO and his little family were hospitably 
 entertained on their arrival at the house of a 
 friend, as was the usual custom in Cuba at that 
 time, hotels being unknown, unless certain board 
 ing-houses where foreigners were received for a 
 few days on their transit to the interior could be 
 so called. Ludovico lost not an hour, but hast 
 ened home the very night of his arrival, hoping 
 to have one more glimpse of his father, who was 
 said to be dying. Mrs. Warwick, Juanita, and the 
 children were to go on as soon as he could send a 
 trusty escort, or return for them himself. 
 
 In the evening, Juanita was called down to the 
 door. Some one wished to see her. For a 
 moment she hesitated, for the sights and sounds 
 of the city terrified her ; but it might be Juan. 
 Who else could it be ? 
 
 The house in which they were staying was, like 
 many genteel residences, a suite of apartments in 
 the second story, the lower story being occupied 
 as warehouses. Lofty flights of steps led up to 
 the apartments above. Juanita descended, alone 
 423
 
 4 2 4 CUBA. 
 
 and cautiously, and when she reached the lower 
 step she was seized in an eager embrace. 
 
 It was indeed Juan. He told her he was free, 
 and that he had seen her land that morning. She 
 told him she too was free, and had just returned 
 from the United States, but only for a time, and 
 was just about to urge him to leave Cuba also, 
 when they were both seized, gagged, and borne 
 away. 
 
 Juan had been dogged. He had long been 
 watched for a suspicious character, being sus 
 pected of taking part in the supposed conspiracy. 
 His remarkable figure, noble bearing, and daunt 
 less air had long marked him for destruction, and 
 he knew it. By day he had carefully disguised 
 himself of late, but the temptation to see and 
 speak to Juanita had overcome his prudence, and 
 he had ventured out without that precaution, 
 under the protection of the shades of evening. 
 
 They were conveyed to a remote quarter, and 
 placed with a crowd of other suspected ones in a 
 large building outside the walls. 
 
 When Juanita opened her eyes, for she had 
 fainted with pain and terror on the way, " Pope 
 Urban " was standing over her. He looked wan 
 and wasted, and soon cut off all hopes of escape. 
 The city was in a fearful tumult of rage and sus 
 picion, and even the rural districts had been 
 searched for victims. His endeavors to run off 
 Pedro from the mountain sitio where Don Ermite
 
 CUBA. 4 2 5 
 
 had sent him had ended in the arrest of both. 
 Dolores was still in the mountains, he knew not 
 where. 
 
 It proved the night of a fearful outrage that 
 rang widely over the island the next day. There 
 is no trial in Cuba, any more than in the southern 
 United States, for a suspected slave, nor even for 
 a suspected colored freeman. The building was 
 surrounded by an infuriated crowd, and fired, and 
 Juanita, Juan, Urbano, and twelve hundred other 
 negroes, free and enslaved, perished in the flames. 
 
 Are we told that the horrors of slavery are 
 exaggerated ? Those who know its history know 
 that to be impossible. This holocaust is a matter 
 of history, and included many individuals of a 
 superior caste, for it was the more intelligent and 
 able negroes who were most readily suspected. 
 Besides the suspected freemen, many valuable 
 slaves of well known and powerful families disap 
 peared that night, and no one dared to inquire of 
 their fate. 
 
 When Juanita failed to return, Mrs. Warwick 
 became anxious, and inquiries were instituted. 
 The first suspicion in the family was that she had 
 fled ; but Mrs. Warwick knew the fallacy of that 
 suspicion. The store-keeper at the foot of the 
 steps could only testify that the police had arrested 
 and bound a man and woman who stood there. 
 He had seen this through a crack in his shutter, 
 but in Cuba no one gives an alarm when an out-
 
 426 . CUBA. 
 
 rage is perpetrated. Every one shuts his own 
 door, and pleads ignorance. No one would have 
 dared at that time to investigate the mysterious 
 disappearance even of a white man, and the Cata- 
 lonian, who had revealed these facts, must have 
 been newly arrived, or he would not have ventured 
 to tell so much. The inquiry was immediately 
 hushed, both for his sake and that of the other 
 residents. Mrs. Warwick passed the night in 
 agony, but could not speak again of her distress 
 till she should see Ludovico. 
 
 The conflagration outside the walls that night 
 was nothing to the authorities within the gates 
 but a confirmation of their suspicions, except to 
 those who might have lost slaves, for whom they 
 never dared even to inquire. Horror secretly 
 filled every heart when rumor brought the intelli 
 gence the next day of the human sacrifice ; but, 
 again, they were negroes, and it was thought 
 probable they had deserved it. It was not till 
 long after, and till similar if not worse cruel 
 ties had been perpetrated on hundreds, nay, thou 
 sands of helpless beings, that a reaction of the 
 public mind came ; and then it was said that suffi 
 cient proof of the supposed conspiracy had never 
 been afforded to warrant them ! 
 
 But enough ! Those, who wish to know more 
 can seek the information where it is to be found, 
 duly accredited. 
 
 Ludovico, who arrived too late to find his father
 
 CUBA. 4 2 7 
 
 living, remained on the plantation only long 
 enough to bring the bodies of his parents to the 
 family tomb in Havana. His first care, on hear 
 ing of the horrible tragedy of the conflagration, 
 was to put Mrs. Warwick and the children on 
 board a vessel for the United States, and send 
 them away under safe escort. On his way home 
 he had heard of the arrest of Urbano and Pedro 
 in the mountains, and that they had been sent to 
 Havana with other captured fugitives. When 
 he was on his way back, he heard of the confla 
 gration, and was convinced by Mrs. Warwick s 
 story that it was Juan who had called down 
 Juanita, and that he was the distinguished leader 
 who had perished then. But he found it useless 
 to make any investigations. Stunned and baffled, 
 he mechanically followed the pageant of his 
 parents funeral, for the Marquis of Rodriguez was 
 widely connected with the nobility of the island. 
 
 Ludovico returned to La Consolacion, where 
 alone he could find any sympathetic care. His 
 haggard appearance alarmed Don Andres, who 
 knew how to sustain as well as sympathize, and 
 that beneficent action was the best restorative for 
 a broken life. Ludovico was young ; he wasgejier- 
 ous ; he had sisters and a brother and a child of 
 his own, and these relations involved duties : and 
 duty leads the soul into a higher world even than 
 the natural affections, and into an immortal life, 
 where the still wider relation with the human race
 
 4 28 CUBA. 
 
 lifts us above the sphere of this world s happiness. 
 Gradually the truth dawned upon him that man s 
 extremity is God s opportunity, and that all he 
 had known and suffered from slavery fitted him 
 to do his part to ameliorate, perhaps to help to 
 abolish, it. Gladly would he have turned his 
 back upon the island ; but this he felt that he 
 had no right to do. Don Andres had wrought 
 beneficent changes in substituting his grand, 
 melodious voice for the overseer s whip, and 
 Ludovico could see in the faces of the people 
 that something better and higher than fear and 
 trickery had taken possession of them. Don 
 Andres had promoted Pancho the best coffee- 
 planter in the gang to superintend that work, 
 while he gave some attention to the sugar estate, 
 and had rewarded him by giving him a small 
 interest in the crop. This had transformed him 
 into a man, apparently, and Ludovico resolved 
 to act upon Helen s idea of creating self-respect 
 by independence, and gradually he threw himself 
 into the work with his native ardor and energy. 
 Don Andres assured him that the time was 
 approaching when great changes would take 
 place, and, inspired with the feeling that he 
 could do something to elevate character among 
 them, he turned away from personal sorrows, and 
 gave himself up to the reforms he saw possible. 
 
 How difficult it was to do this, only those can 
 estimate who realize the pang the thought gave
 
 CUBA. 4 2 9 
 
 him that he had disappointed his mother, and the 
 consolation he hoped to feel from requiting by 
 tardy happiness the years of suffering he had 
 unwittingly caused Juanita, whose noble character 
 had at last made itself manifest to him. But in 
 Don Andres he had an adequate friend, who had 
 read the whole by the touchstone of his own pri 
 vate sorrows and disappointments, and together 
 they were a host. But the reforms they could 
 effect were limited, because no one was free, and 
 the espionage was such that even the wealthiest 
 planters could not do as they pleased while the 
 home government connived at iniquity. He could 
 free a slave if he chose to keep him on his estate 
 and maintain him, but he could not sell him with 
 out a license. If he gave him an interest in the 
 estate, it must be solely at his own expense. This 
 he was prepared to accept. He could make less 
 sugar if he chose, but he must be the loser, for 
 he would be taxed according to the number of his 
 slaves and his acres. He found, however, that 
 the amount and quality of work done by men who 
 felt themselves men and not beasts was of a 
 superior order, and balanced the loss. 
 
 Sugar could be made better or worse by care or 
 carelessness, and the manuring of the coffee estate 
 by the debris of the coffee-plant so far in 
 creased the value of that product that it was 
 sought and sold at its own gates. 
 
 The children s voices were no longer heard
 
 43 CUBA. 
 
 driving the oxen ; the mills Ludovico introduced 
 so far mitigated the labors of the sugar season, 
 which must be nearly unremitting or the sugar 
 would be spoiled, that it was unnecessary to per 
 form night labor, as is usual on sugar estates, so 
 that the people were not overworked, and, when 
 the sugar season was over, lighter labor was given, 
 and the rest of the year was even easier than on 
 the coffee plantations. Good cane-feeding, added 
 to other food, made fat instead of gaunt workmen, 
 such as Larimon had exhibited, and cheerfulness 
 and alacrity took the place of languor and idleness. 
 It soon came to be understood that skilled labor 
 was remunerative, for whoever proved himself 
 capable was paid something. The improved man 
 liness of the people was Ludovico s reward. He 
 replaced the frail bamboo barracks, which a con 
 flagration sometimes swept away in a night, by 
 separate houses, furnished with comfortable bunks, 
 and surrounded by small gardens, and promoted 
 the institution of marriage, to which he gave the 
 character of a festival, which revived the traditions 
 of their native land, hitherto celebrated in their 
 wild dances only. The wedding-cake made of 
 tropical fruits, and not of butterflies, gave a sanc 
 tion and dignity to the daily life which had hitherto 
 been wanting. Ever so small a home is sacred 
 ground. 
 
 Muerta-Viva had been promoted by Don 
 Andres to take Camilla s place in the household,
 
 CUBA, 43 l 
 
 being always a cripple and unfit for hard labor, 
 but having learned the arts of housekeeping by 
 her frequent assistance of Camilla. She was now 
 told that she would be paid a small stipend for her 
 services and for her nice pastry work and the 
 candying of fruits, in which she excelled ; and 
 Ludovico encouraged her to be thrifty of the 
 money which might buy her freedom at a future 
 time, for he now constituted himself his people s 
 banker, and showed them the books in which 
 he recorded their \vork. Solidad excelled in 
 in sewing, and the prospect was held out to her 
 that she should have the charge of the annual 
 sewing, if she showed herself capable of manag 
 ing the women, which she did very soon, under 
 Don Andres auspices. Don Andres was endowed 
 with a grand voice, sweet as well as sonorous, and 
 it was music to Ludovico s ears to hear him give 
 his orders, which were not only promptly obeyed, 
 but, when possible, anticipated for he had gained 
 the people s confidence. Old Panchita was gone, 
 but Pazienza, the good god-mother, was installed 
 over the children in a comfortable chicken-house, 
 with a lignum-vitae floor, which insects do not 
 infest, and stalwart maidens assisted her in the 
 care of the little ones. No overseer s lash had to 
 be invoked, for Pazienza made them love her, and 
 she trained them to weed the borders and take 
 care of their mothers gardens. The caleseros, 
 who had been inhumanly punished for careless-
 
 432 CUBA. 
 
 ness in their department, were made responsible 
 for the horses. As fast as they proved themselves 
 worthy, Ludovico offered his slaves their freedom, 
 but they did not wish to leave his paternal care, 
 even when the day came for insurrectionary move 
 ments. There were none such on Ludovico s 
 estate, but he could carry his reforms no farther 
 without subjecting himself to interference by the 
 local government, which became more and more 
 rapacious and oppressive, till every interest of the 
 island was curtailed, and the imposts made so 
 burdensome that discontent increased rapidly, and 
 fresh forces were sent from the mother-country to 
 meet increasing rebellion. The world knows the 
 general features of the revolution that became the 
 only means of redress. It is vain to try to de 
 scribe it. Suffice it to say that in 1888 slavery will 
 end in Cuba, according to the present arrange 
 ments ; but what the actual condition of things 
 will be, who will venture to say ? Not more 
 devotedly did Cespedes, Varona, and other patriots 
 lay down their lives for their beloved island later 
 in time than did Ludovico and Don Andres at 
 that remote period give theirs to prepare the way 
 for changes, which were not consummated till long 
 after their day and generation. Ludovico at last 
 joined his family, and took them to Switzerland to 
 finish their education, leaving his estates for future 
 disposal in the hands of Don Andres, with such 
 improvements as they had been able to effect.
 
 CUBA. 433 
 
 He had kept Helen informed of these improve 
 ments, and she had cheered him on till she felt 
 that he was losing family life too long, and she 
 then urged him to return to it, and give it the 
 happiness so long withheld. 
 
 Carlito, who returned to his parents after the 
 death of the Marchioness, was never forgotten by 
 Helen or Ludovico, and the time came when Dona 
 Lucia and Tulita, their respective husbands being 
 dead, accompanied him to the States to finish 
 his education, and finally followed to Switzerland. 
 Carlito s only idea of happiness was associated 
 with the Rodriguez family, and his childish love 
 for Pepita ripened at last into an enduring affec 
 tion. 
 
 It may be said that a tale of fiction should be a 
 perfect artistic work, an epitome of all life that 
 can be covered by its events, and that poetic 
 justice should be done to all the characters who 
 play their part in it, because God is just, and in 
 the great whole of existence virtue brings happi 
 ness and vice misery. This may be true in de 
 picting any state of society in which all the actors 
 enjoy the inalienable right of ownership in them 
 selves, but when that first essential condition of 
 life and growth is ravished from man, the forces 
 of nature cannot play freely, and the reward of 
 virtue must be not only postponed to another state 
 of existence, which must follow this as inevitably 
 as thought follows thought, but the expectation
 
 434 CUBA. 
 
 that all things shall be adjusted in this life must 
 give way to the sad earthly fact that justice is not 
 always meted out here. Let us keep our faith 
 unsullied, that God teaches man by his failures as 
 well as by success and happiness, and that, with 
 his due endeavors, he can effect that better 
 adjustment of the spirit to the event which se 
 cures the best ends of existence here and here 
 after.
 
 EXPLANATORY NOTE, 
 
 BY ELIZABETH P. PEABODY. 
 
 IT was one of the last acts of Mrs. Mann s 
 mortal life to put into the hands of the publisher 
 the foregoing tale, and she intended to write a 
 preface, indicating what was the " romance " and 
 what was the " real life " ; but the manuscript was 
 temporarily mislaid, and her death prevented the 
 preface from being written. 
 
 I think she intended to say that the bulk of the 
 book was written without any conscious moral 
 object in view, or for the public ; but, as she used 
 to say, it wrote itself, being a transcript of what 
 was present to her observation, as a relief to her 
 soul, in letters home, while she was living in Cuba, 
 in a position not unlike that in which she has 
 represented Helen. 
 
 Many friends who read the original letters at 
 the time they were written, urged her, on her 
 return to New England, to print them, for the 
 subject of slavery was just then beginning to be 
 agitated by Garnsoil But while any member of 
 435
 
 436 EXPLANATORY XOTE. 
 
 the family in whose bosom she had received hos 
 pitality yet lived, she doubted the propriety of 
 doing so. 
 
 Not one of that family is portrayed in the book, 
 for the Marquis and Marchioness Rodriguez, Caro 
 lina, Luclovico, Dona Lucia, Tulita, and Carlito 
 are creatures entirely of her imagination, and 
 their story her Romance. Every other personage 
 named, whether white or black, was real, and also 
 every incident and scene described even Juanita, 
 though licr story is idealized. And the action of 
 Ludovico, at the end, which lights up the tragedy 
 with a moral glory, is copied from actual life. 
 
 The death of the last member of the family of 
 her host, a few years since, left her free to publish 
 what she had seen and known of real life in Cuba, 
 woven into a work of art of her own imagining. 
 She thought it would be felt to be a timely publi 
 cation, coming out so hard upon the time of the 
 emancipation of the slaves of Cuba, in 1888.
 
 THE SCHOOL OF HOME. 
 
 Let the school of home be a good one. Let reading be 
 such as to quicken the mind for better reading still ; for 
 the school at home is progressive. 
 
 The baby is to be read to. What shall mother and 
 sister and father and brother read to the baby? 
 
 BABYLAND. Babyland rhymes and jingles; great big 
 letters and little thoughts and words out of BABYLAND. 
 Pictures so easy to understand that baby quickly learns 
 the meaning of light and shade, of distance, of tree, of 
 cloud. The grass is green ; the sky is blue ; the flowers 
 are they red or yellow ? That depends on mother s 
 house-plants. Baby sees in the picture what she sees in 
 the home and out of the window. 
 
 BABYLAND, mother s monthly picture-and-jingle primer 
 for baby s diversion, and baby s mother-help ; 50 cents 
 a year. 
 
 What, when baby begins to read for herself ? OUR 
 LITTLE MEN AND WOMEN is made to go on with. BABY- 
 LAND forms the rending habit. Think of a baby with the 
 reading habit ! After a little she picks up the letters 
 and wants to know what they mean. The jingles are 
 jingles still ; but the tales that lie under the jingles 
 begin to ask questions. 
 
 What do Jack and Jill go up the hill after water for ? 
 Isn t water down hill ? Baby is outgrowing BABYLAND. 
 
 No more nonsense. There is fun enough in sense. 
 The world is full of interesting things ; and, if they come 
 to a growing child not in discouraging tangles but an 
 easy one at a time, there is fun enough in getting hold
 
 of them. That is the way to gro\v. OUR LITTLE MEN 
 AND WOMEN helps such growth as that. Beginnings of 
 things made easy by words and pictures ; not too easy. 
 The reading habit has got to another stage. 
 A dollar for such a school as that for a year. 
 
 Then comes THE PANSY with stories of child-life, travel 
 at home and abroad, adventure, history old and new, re 
 ligion at home and over the seas, and roundabout tales 
 on the International Sunday School Lesson. 
 
 Pansy the editor ; THE PANSY the magazine. There 
 are thousands and thousands of children and children of 
 larger growth all over the country who know about Pansy 
 the writer, and THE PANSY the magazine. There are 
 thousands and thousands more who will be glad to know. 
 
 A dollar a vear for THE PANSY. 
 
 The reading habit is now pretty well established ; not 
 only the reading habit, but liking for useful reading : and 
 useful reading leads to learning. 
 
 Now comes WIDE AWAKE, vigorous, hearty, not to say 
 heavy. No, it isn t heavy, though full as it can be of 
 practical help along the road to sober manhood and wom 
 anhood. Full as it can be ! There is need of play as 
 well as of work ; and WIDE AWAKE has its mixture of 
 work and rest and play. The work is all toward self- 
 improvement; so is the rest; and so is the play. $2.40 
 a year. 
 
 Specimen copies of all the Lothrop magazines for 
 fifteen cents ; any one for five in postage stamps. 
 Address D. Lothrop Company, Boston.
 
 You little know what help there is in books for the 
 average housewife. 
 
 Take Domestic Problems, for instance, beginning with 
 this hard question : " How may a woman enjoy the de 
 lights of culture and at the same time fulfil her duties to 
 family and household ? " The second chapter quotes from 
 somebody else : " It can t be done. I ve tried it : but, as 
 things now are, it can t be done." 
 
 Mrs. Diaz looks below the surface. Want o t prepara 
 tion and culture, she says, is at the bottom of a woman s 
 failure, just as it is of a man s. 
 
 The proper training of children, for instance, can t be 
 done without some comprehension of children themselves, 
 of what they ought to grow to, their stages, the means of 
 their guidance, the laws of their health, and manners. 
 But mothers get no hint of most of these things until they 
 have to blunder through them. Why not ? Isn t the 
 training of children woman s mission ? Yes, in print, but 
 not in practice. What is her mission in practice? Cook 
 ing and sewing ! 
 
 O O 
 
 Woman s worst failure then is due to the stupid blunder 
 of putting comparatively trivial things before the most im 
 portant of all. The result is bad children and waste of a 
 generation or two all for putting cooking and sewing 
 before the training of children. 
 
 Now will any one venture to say that any particular 
 mother, you for instance, has got to put cooking and sew 
 ing before the training of children ? 
 
 Any mother who really makes up her mind to put her 
 children first can find out how to grow tolerable children 
 at least. iii
 
 And that is what Mrs. Diaz means by preparation a 
 little knowledge beforehand the little that leads to more. 
 
 It can be done ; and you can do it ! Will you ? It s a 
 matter of choice ; and you are the chooser. 
 
 Domestic Problems. By Mrs. A. M. Diaz. ?i. D. Lothrop Company, Boston. 
 
 We have touched on only one subject. The author 
 treats of many. 
 
 Dr. Buckley the brilliant and versatile editor of the 
 Christian Advocate says in the preface of his book on 
 northern Europe " I hope to impart to such as have never 
 seen those countries as clear a view as can be obtained 
 from reading " and " My chief reason for traveling in 
 Russia was to study Nihilism and kindred subjects." 
 
 This affords the best clue to his book to those who 
 know the writer s quickness, freshness, independence, 
 force, and penetration. 
 
 The Midnight Sun, the Tsar and the Nihilist. Adventures and Observations in 
 Norway, Sweden and Russia. By J. M. Buckley, LL. D. 72 illustrations, 376 
 pages. ?3. D. Lothrop Company, Boston. 
 
 Just short of the luxurious in paper, pictures and print. 
 
 The writer best equipped for such a task has put into 
 one illustrated book a brief account of every American 
 voyage for polar exploration, including one to the south 
 almost forgotten. 
 
 American Explorations in the Ice Zones. By Professor J. E. Nourse, U. S. N. 
 10 maps, lao illustrations, 624 pages. Cloth, 3, gilt edges $3.50, half-calf $6. 
 D. Lothrop Company, Boston. 
 
 Not written especially for boys ; but they claim it.
 
 The wife of a U. S. lighthouse inspector, Mary Brad 
 ford Crowninshield, writes the story of a tour of inspection 
 along the coast of Maine with two boys on board for 
 other boys of course. A most instructive as well as de 
 lightful excursion. 
 
 The boys go up the towers and study the lamps and 
 lanterns and all the devices by which a light in the night 
 is made to tell the wary sailor the coast he is on ; and so 
 does the reader. Stories of wrecks and rescues beguile 
 the waiting times. There are no waiting times in the 
 story. 
 
 All Among the Lighthouse.-;, or Cruise of the Goldenrod. By Mary Bradford 
 Crowninshield. 32 illustrations, 392 pages. #2.50. D. Lothrop Company, Boston. 
 
 There s a vast amount of coast-lore besides. 
 
 Mr. Grant Allen, who knows almost as much as anybody, 
 has been making a book of twenty-eight separate parts, 
 and says of it : " These little essays are mostly endeavors 
 to put some of the latest results of science in simple, 
 clear and intelligible language." 
 
 Now that is exactly what nine hundred and ninety-nine 
 in a thousand of us want, if it isn t dry. And it isn t dry. 
 Few of those who have the wonderful knowledge of what 
 is going on in the learned world have the gift of popular 
 explanation the gift of telling of it. Mr. Allen has 
 that gift ; the knowledge, the teaching grace, the popular 
 faculty. 
 
 Common Sense Science. By Grant Allen. 318 pages. $1.50. D. Lothrop Com 
 pany, Boston. 
 
 By no means a list of new-found facts ; but the bearings 
 of them on common subjects.
 
 We don t go on talking as if the earth were the centre 
 of things, as if Galileo never lived. Huxley and Spencer 
 have got to be heard. Shall \ve wait two hundred and 
 fifty years ? 
 
 The book is simply an easy means of intelligence. 
 
 There is nothing more dreary than chemistry taught as 
 it used to be taught to beginners. There is nothing 
 brighter and fuller of keen delight than chemistry taught 
 as it can be taught to little children even. 
 
 Real Fairy Folks. By Lucy Rider Meyer, V M. ^9 pages. $1.25. D. Lo 
 throp Company, Boston. 
 
 "I ll be their teacher give them private scientific 
 lectures ! Trust me to manage the school part ! " The 
 book is alive with the secrets of things. 
 
 It takes a learned man to write an easy book on almost 
 any subject. 
 
 Arthur Oilman, of the College for Women, at Cam 
 bridge, known as the "Harvard Annex," has made a little 
 book to help young people along in the use of the dic 
 tionary. One can devour it in an hour or two; but the 
 reading multiplies knowledge and means of knowledge. 
 
 Short Stories from the Dictionary. By Arthur Oilman, M. A. 129 pages. 60 
 cents. D. Lothrop Company, Boston. 
 
 An unconscious beginning of what may grow to be 
 philology, if one s faculty lies that way. Such bits of 
 education are of vastly more importance than most of 
 us know. They are the seeds of learning.
 
 Elizabeth P. Peabody at the age of eighty-four years 
 has made a book of a number of essays, written during 
 fifty years of a most productive life, on subjects of lasting 
 interest, published forgotten years ago in Emerson s Mag 
 azine, The Dial, Lowell s Pioneer, etc. ^ 
 
 Last Evening with Allston and Other Papers, 350 pages. $1.50. D. Lothrop 
 Company, Boston. 
 
 The wife of Fremont, the Pathfinder of forty years 
 ago and almost President thirty years ago, has written a 
 bookful of reminiscences. 
 
 Souvenirs of My Time. By Jessie Benton Fremont. 393 pages. Si. 50. D. Lo 
 throp Company, Boston. 
 
 Mrs. Fre mont has long been known as a brilliant con- 
 verser and story-teller. Her later years have been given 
 to making books; and the books have the freshness and 
 sparkle of youth. 
 
 The literary editor of the Nation gathers together nearly 
 a hundred poems and parts of poems to read to children 
 going to sleep. 
 
 Bedside Poetry, a. Parents Assistant in Moral Discipline. 143 pages. Two bind 
 ings, 75 cents and $i. D. Lothrop Company, Boston. 
 
 The poems have their various bearings on morals and 
 graces ; and there is an index called a key to the mor 
 alities. The mother can turn, with little search, to verses 
 that put in a pleasant light the thoughts the little one 
 needs to harbor. Hence the sub-title.
 
 Readers of poetry are almost as scarce as poetry 
 Have you noticed how little there is in the world ? how 
 wide the desert, how few the little oases? 
 
 Through the Year with the Poets. Edited by Oscar Fay Adams. 12 bijou 
 books of the months, of about 130 pages each. 75 cents each. D. Lothrop Com 
 pany, Boston. f 
 
 Is it possible ? Is there enough sweet singing ringing 
 lustrous verse between heaven and earth to make twelve 
 such books? There is indeed; and heaven and earth are 
 in it ! 
 
 Ginx s Baby, a burlesque book of most serious purpose, 
 made a stir in England some years ago ; and, what is of 
 more account, went far to accomplish the author s object. 
 
 Evolution of Dodd. By William Hiwley Smith. 153 pages. $i. D. Lothrop 
 Company, Boston. 
 
 Dodd is the terrible schoolboy. How he became so ; 
 who is responsible ; what is the remedy such is the gist 
 of the book. 
 
 As bright as Ginx s Baby. A bookful of managing 
 wisdom for parents as well as teachers. 
 
 Questions such as practical boys and girls are asking 
 their mothers all the year round about things that come 
 up. Not one in ten of the mothers can answer one in ten 
 of the questions. 
 
 Household Notes and Queries, A Family Reference-Book. By the Wise Blackbird. 
 115 pages. 60 cents. 
 
 It is handy to have such a book on the shelf, and 
 handier yet to have the knowledge that s in it in one s 
 head.
 
 A 000 037 860 4