Then Jack undertook to see to the release of the unhurt prisoners, with all the business incidental thereto; and, as a first step, he proceeded with a band of fifty armed negroes to the captured camp, and forthwith went to work to bring in all the weapons and ammunition, the uninjured field gun, the tents, and the wagons, all of which would be exceedingly valuable acquisitions to any revolutionary force which they might chance to join. Then the horses, mules, and cattle were driven in, the mules being harnessed to the gun and the wagons. All these captures having been stored as carefully as circumstances permitted, the prisoners who were to be released were paraded, and each was served with one day's rations; then they gladly moved off, en route for Pinar del Rio, under a strong escort of armed negroes, led by Jack, who was on this occasion mounted upon a good horse. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon when the little army started; and they marched until eight o'clock, when they camped for the night in the open, Jack and his band returning some three miles along the road by which they had gone, and passing the night in a wood through which the road ran. They arrived back at the estate shortly after nine o'clock the next morning, and Jack then learned, to his profound sorrow, that the unfortunate Senora Montijo had passed away during the night, another victim of Spanish tyranny and oppression. They buried the poor lady on the evening of that day, in a particularly lovely and peaceful spot, some distance up the valley, which had been a favourite resort of her daughter. The ceremony was singularly moving and impressive, every negro on the place following the body to the grave, and Don Hermoso himself, in the absence of a priest, reading the funeral service over his departed wife. But although the loss of the lady was deeply felt by all, there can be little doubt that, all things considered, her death was a fortunate circumstance, not only for herself, but also for all those who most dearly loved her; for it was only too clear that her reason had been permanently lost. Twenty-four hours later what had been the finest and best-kept tobacco-growing estate on the island was abandoned to the Spanish doctor and his patients—with a staff of volunteer assistants from the unwounded Spanish prisoners to look after them. The Montijos, father and son, with Jack, and as many of the negro defenders as still survived, had taken to the mountains, carrying off with them the field gun, Maxims, rifles, ammunition, and stores of all descriptions, either originally belonging to them, or taken from the enemy; and a very formidable force they soon proved themselves to be.

About a month later news came to the band that Antonio Maceo, having evaded the Spanish army in the province of Pinar del Rio, and got on the other side of Weyler's trocha, had been killed in a skirmish not far from Havana, which city he had proposed to threaten, with the object of causing the withdrawal of the Spanish troops from the western end of the island. This news, which proved to be true, was a very heavy blow to the revolutionaries, who regarded Antonio as far and away their most capable and energetic leader; and soon afterward they sustained a further very serious loss, in the person of Rius Rivera, who had arrived in Pinar del Rio to take the place of Maceo, but who, in the month of March, 1897, was wounded in a skirmish near San Cristobal, being afterwards captured and deported. Nor was this all; for about the same time Layas, another very prominent and effective revolutionary leader, was killed in a fight in the province of Havana. Yet, serious as those misfortunes were deemed to be, they did not discourage the revolutionaries; on the contrary, they but spurred the latter to more strenuous efforts, and the brief, and often fragmentary, items of intelligence which filtered through to them from time to time concerning the incessant harrying of the Spaniards by Don Hermoso and his active band of guerrillas were cheering as cordial to them, stimulating them to emulative feats of daring and enterprise which rapidly reduced Weyler to the very verge of despair.

Meanwhile the course of events in Cuba was being very keenly watched in the United States, and was steadily increasing the already dangerous tension which had been gradually growing between that country and Spain; and this was further increased by the occurrence of the Rius incident. Rius, it may be mentioned, was a Cuban, who, like many other natives of the same island, had resided in the United States, and had deemed it good policy to secure naturalisation papers as an American, after which he had returned to Cuba. The Spanish authorities—who may or may not have had good reason—suspected Rius of being a dangerous person, and arrested him; whereupon the United States Consul, ever watchful of the rights of American citizens, promptly demanded that the man should be immediately brought to trial, and released if no offence could be proved against him. The machinery of diplomacy is sometimes apt to move a trifle slowly, and ere it had moved far enough to bring about the satisfaction of the Consul's demands it was stated that Rius had died suddenly in prison. This put General Fitzhugh Lee upon his mettle: he very strongly suspected that there was more in this man's death than met the eye, and he insisted upon having the body medically examined, with the result that Rius was found to have been killed by a blow on the back of the head; while, scratched by a nail on the back of a chair in his cell, was found a statement to the effect that he was certain the prison authorities were fully determined to murder him. These ugly facts the United States Consul promptly reported to Washington, with the result that the American President immediately ordered him to demand a full investigation of all the circumstances, promising to back him up in his demand with all necessary support. As a result of this, the Spanish authorities, after interposing every possible obstacle in the way, appointed a commission of enquiry; but, as no clear proof was adduced that Rius had actually been deliberately murdered, the incident was permitted to close. There is little doubt, however, that this was the last drop in the cup, and that from that moment the United States practically determined to intervene upon the first legitimate opportunity, unless, indeed, Spain could be persuaded to grant to Cuba something in the nature of a very liberal measure of self-government. To secure this the United States Government approached Madrid with certain proposals; and this action, combined with a change in the Spanish Ministry, resulted in the recall of General Weyler, and the appointment of General Blanco as Capitan-General in his stead.

General Blanco arrived in Cuba in the month of November, 1897, charged with the task of pacifying the Cubans by a policy of conciliation, instead of the policy of coercion so vigorously and mercilessly pursued by his predecessor. But conciliation as a policy was adopted by Spain altogether too late to save Cuba to her. Had it been tried two years earlier, and pursued in good faith, it is more than likely that the Cubans, as a whole, would have gladly welcomed it, and that the revolution would have subsided and died out for want of support and encouragement: but now the island bore everywhere the marks of Weyler's destroying hand; its once flourishing industries were gone; its inhabitants were ruined, and those of them who had been concentrated in the fortified towns were dying by thousands, perishing of starvation as the result of gross, culpable mismanagement, if not callous indifference; and the Cubans were firmly resolved never again to submit to a Government capable of such shocking abuses. Their experience of the last two years had convinced them that they had now but to persevere and they could compel Spain to evacuate the island in the course of another year at the utmost; while now, so incensed was the United States with Spain that its intervention might come at any moment. They therefore received General Blanco's conciliatory advances coldly, and, so far from surrendering or laying down their arms, pursued their operations with even intensified energy. Meanwhile, on January 1, 1898, the new Constitution, which was one of Spain's conciliatory measures, was proclaimed as in force, and a Colonial Government was appointed, with Senor Galvin as its nominal leader; but it possessed very little power, since so long as Spain persisted in retaining its hold on Cuba, and the revolution continued, the question of governing the island was necessarily a military one. Then, to add still further to the difficulties of Spain, and to bring the tension between her and the United States to practically breaking-point, came the "Dupuy de Lome" and the "Lee" incidents. The first of these arose out of a letter written by Senor Dupuy de Lome, the Spanish Minister at Washington, to his friend Senor Canalejas, who was then in Cuba on a visit. In this letter Senor Dupuy de Lome was imprudent enough to express, in very emphatic language, his doubts as to the good faith of the United States in the attitude which it had taken up on the Cuban question; and, not satisfied with this signal act of imprudence, the writer must needs indulge in certain very insulting remarks respecting President McKinley. This letter was stolen from Senor Canalejas in Havana, and sold to a New York newspaper, which promptly published it, with the natural result that de Lome was compelled to resign his post. The second, or "Lee", incident was a sequel to the first, and was doubtless prompted by a desire for revenge. It was nothing less than a request by Spain that General Lee should be recalled from his position as Consul-General for the United States at Havana, upon the ground that he was a persona non grata to the Spanish authorities there. Needless to say, the request was not complied with. And then, finally, came the Maine incident.

This last had its origin in certain serious military riots which occurred in Havana on the 12th and 13th of January, 1898, due to the opposition of the Spaniards, military and civil, to General Blanco in his character as pacificator; the pacification of the island otherwise than by military operations being very unpopular with the resident Spaniards, and especially with the army. In consequence of these riots, and in view of the danger to American citizens arising out of the disorderly state generally of the city, the battleship Maine was sent to Havana by the United States Government.

She arrived in Havana harbour at eleven o'clock in the forenoon of January 25, 1898, and was duly saluted by the forts and the Spanish ships of war, whose salutes she as duly returned; after which, under the direction of the port authorities, she was moored in the man-o'-war anchorage. Nothing that could, even by the most hypersensitive, be construed into an act of discourteous behaviour was shown to either the officers or men of the ship; on the contrary, the Spaniards, no doubt shrewdly suspecting that the eye of the United States, quickened by recent events to a state of preternaturally acute perception, was suspiciously watching their every action, were at the greatest pains to exhibit the utmost courtesy, not only official but also non-official, to their visitors, to whom the officials and residents alike extended the most generous hospitality, in return for which several receptions were held on board the ship by Captain Sigsbee and his officers.

Now it happened that on February 15th—which fell on a Tuesday—Don Hermoso Montijo, his son Carlos, and Jack Singleton, completely worn out by many months of campaigning among the mountains, and several sharp attacks of fever, having amalgamated their considerably augmented band with that of another insurgent leader, and turned the command over to him, succeeded in entering the city of Havana unrecognised, and made their way on board the Thetis—which had then been for some time lying idle in the harbour—with the intention of recruiting their health by running across the Atlantic for the purpose of procuring a further supply of arms and ammunition, which the continual accessions to the revolutionary ranks caused to be most urgently needed. They were most enthusiastically welcomed by Milsom, who, having heard nothing from any of them for more than three months, was beginning very seriously to fear that, like many others of the revolutionaries, they had been "wiped out" in one or another of the countless skirmishes that were constantly occurring with the Spanish troops. He was delighted to learn that they were all to make a run across the Atlantic and back together; and within an hour of their arrival on board set to work upon the necessary preparations for the trip, which, however, he explained, it would be scarcely possible to complete under a couple of days, in the then disordered state of the city, with its attendant disorganised business conditions.

But, great as Milsom's pleasure at their appearance undoubtedly was, Singleton soon became aware of a certain subtle constraint and uneasiness in his friend's manner toward him; and as soon as he had satisfied himself that it really existed, and was not the result of his own imagination, he taxed his friend with it.

"Look here, Phil," he said, "there is something wrong somewhere; I can see it by your manner. What is it? Out with it, man! You will have to tell us sooner or later, you know, so you may as well let us know what it is at once. Have you got into collision with the authorities, or roused their suspicions in any way, or what is it? We may as well know first as last, old man; so get it off your mind!"

"So you have noticed it, have you?" responded Milsom, rather grimly. "Well, you have guessed rightly, Jack; there is something very seriously wrong, though not in the directions which you have suggested. Of course the authorities have their suspicions—and very strong ones, too, I don't doubt—about this vessel; they would be fools if they had not, seeing the length of time that she has been hanging about in these waters. But whatever their suspicions may be, they cannot possess an atom of proof, or they would have seized the craft before now, and clapped all hands of us into prison. No, it is not that, but—Jack—I don't know what you will say, or what you will think of me—I give you my word of honour that it was not through any carelessness on my part— but—well, the fact of the matter is that—your submarine has been stolen!"

"The submarine stolen!" echoed Jack. "Nonsense, man; you surely cannot mean it!"

"By Jove, I do, then, and that is a fact!" answered Milsom. "Just exactly when she went, or how she went, I know no more than you do; but we missed her a fortnight ago. As you know, it has been our custom to keep about a foot of water in the boat which concealed the submarine, to keep her bottom tight; and, as you may also remember, that water was changed once a week—namely, every Saturday morning. Well, a fortnight ago last Saturday, when the canvas cover was taken off the boat in order to change the water in her, she was found to be empty; the submarine was gone! Who took her, or by what means it became possible to steal her without a single soul being a penny the wiser, I cannot tell you, and I do not believe we shall ever know; for, of course, when I came to question the crew, there was not a man who was not willing to swear that he had never closed his eyes for an instant while keeping an anchor watch, though, of course, something of the kind must have happened. I suspect the custom-house officers that the authorities have insisted on keeping aboard us all the time that we have been in harbour; but of course I have not said a word to them about it. I have, however, watched them continually, and by their smug looks of satisfaction I am inclined to believe that they know something about it. And ever since then I have been on the prowl everywhere to see if I could find any trace of the boat, but without success."

"Well, old chap," said Jack, "I am exceedingly sorry to hear this; for in unscrupulous hands that submarine may work a terrific amount of mischief, and everything connected with the working of her is so simple that any ordinarily skilful mechanician could easily puzzle it all out with a little study. Moreover, if she has fallen into the hands of the Spaniards—as I suppose she has—they will have no difficulty in accounting for the mysterious disablement of their ships here on the occasion of the James B. Potter incident, and it will make them so watchful that henceforth we shall be able to do absolutely nothing. But I do not blame you, Phil: you could not be expected to know that these fellows had somehow discovered the existence of the boat; nor could you be expected to watch her night and day. Her loss is a very serious misfortune, of course, but I am convinced that it is not through any carelessness of yours that it happened."

"Thanks, Jack, for saying that!" answered Milsom; "I did not quite think you would blame me for it: but I cannot help blaming myself to a certain extent; I ought to have been more watchful. Yet how was one to know that the existence of the boat had been discovered? She was guarded night and day, in an unobtrusive way, it is true, and in such a fashion that I believed it quite impossible for anyone to become aware of her existence. Well, she is gone, and we must manage henceforth as best we can without her—unless we can discover her whereabouts and recover possession of her. And now, to change the subject, what do you propose to do with yourselves this afternoon? The Americans are holding a reception aboard the Maine. I suppose you wouldn't care to go?"

"I think not," said Jack; "it would be rather too risky. I have come face to face with many Spanish officers during the time that I have been out with the revolutionaries; and if I were perchance to run up against one of them on board that ship it might be awkward. No; I think that the safest plan for Don Hermoso, Carlos, and myself will be to remain quietly aboard here now, and not attempt to leave the yacht again so long as she remains in Cuban waters."

And upon this opinion the trio acted, remaining below all the afternoon, and not venturing on deck at all until after darkness had fallen.

Dinner was over on board the Thetis, and the three occupants of the saloon, with Milsom, had adjourned to the top of the deck-house to smoke their post-prandial cigars and enjoy the welcome coolness of the night air. The former were entertaining Milsom by relating to him a few of their recent adventures while operating against the Spanish troops when, just as three bells (half-past nine o'clock) was chiming out from the ships in the harbour, a violent concussion was felt by everybody on board the yacht, and simultaneously their ears were deafened by the sound of a terrific explosion. For a space of perhaps two or three seconds following this a dead silence prevailed, and then from the ships afloat and the streets and quays ashore there arose a low murmur, instantly changing to a confused clamour of hurrying feet and shouting voices, expressive of the utmost panic and dismay, which became a perfect uproar when, as everybody involuntarily turned toward the spot from which the explosion had seemed to proceed, it was seen that the American warship Maine was sinking rapidly by the head, while the after part of her was enveloped in flames. And as everybody stared in paralysed horror at the terrible sight, other explosions, though of a much less violent character, were heard on board her! For a second or two astonishment and dismay seemed to have robbed everybody of all power of coherent thought or action; then Milsom started to his feet and shouted in a voice that rang from end to end of the ship:

"Out boats! Each boat her own crew, and no more; you will want every inch of room you can spare for those poor fellows who are struggling for their lives yonder. Hurry, lads, lively now; every second is worth a man's life, remember, for the harbour swarms with sharks! Ah, here you are, Macintyre—come along with me! Is there steam enough in the steamboat's boiler to move her? Good! Then we will try her. I want two more hands. Will you come, Jack, and Carlos?"

Of course they would; and in little more than a minute from the first explosion the boats of the Thetis were tearing up the waters of the harbour in a mad race for the honour of being first in the noble work of rescue! And as they went they were joined by boats from the other ships in the harbour, among which were those of the Spanish cruiser Alphonso the Twelfth; as well as a large number which put off from the shore. As the boats went hither and thither, seeking for survivors—and finding remarkably few, considering that the complement of the Maine amounted to three hundred and forty-seven—an officer in one of the Spanish boats came dashing up, and, with a great show of authority, announced that Admiral Manterolas' orders were that the rescued Americans were to be put aboard the Alphonso the Twelfth, where the injured would receive every attention: accordingly, as soon as the boats of the Thetis had picked up all they could find, they pulled alongside the Spanish warship, and delivered over their living, and in some cases terribly mutilated, freight to her officers and crew. Eighty-six men were rescued, sixty of them being wounded; and of this number the Thetis's boats were responsible for no less than twenty-nine, of whom seventeen were wounded. When at length, having pulled about for nearly an hour without finding any more people to pick up, Milsom reluctantly gave the word for the boats to return to the ship. The wreck, or rather that portion of her which yet remained above water, was still burning.

It was perhaps rather a peculiar circumstance that, upon the return of the boats from their mission of rescue, the saloon party aboard the Thetis should almost immediately separate and retire to their respective cabins, with nothing more in the way of conversation than a few curt questions and answers. The fact is that they were powerfully impressed with the conviction that they had that night witnessed, and been in an indirect way assisting at, an occurrence that was destined to exercise an important influence upon the history of two great nations. It is true that, at the moment, the occurrence presented all the appearance of a lamentable accident: but everybody was by this time fully aware of the fact that the trend of events had, for some time past, been of such a character as to cause America and Spain to regard each other with the utmost distrust, to which, on the part of Spain, was added a feeling of aversion not very far removed from hatred at what she regarded as the high-handed action of the United States in reference to certain points of dispute between the two countries; and there was probably not one intelligent person in Havana that night who did not feel convinced that unless the lamentable occurrence which had just happened should prove capable of an absolutely satisfactory explanation, there would certainly be very serious trouble in the immediate future. As for Jack and Milsom, they were both thinking hard, and it was well on toward daybreak ere either of them slept. The result of Milsom's meditations became apparent when, as was the custom, he joined the saloon party at breakfast next morning. After exchanging with them the usual salutations he said, as he drew his chair up to the table:

"Well, Don Hermoso, after last night's happening I suppose you will be disposed to defer your departure until it can be seen what is to come of it, will you not?"

"Upon my word, Captain, I don't know," answered the Don. "In what way do you think it likely to exercise an influence upon our projected errand?"

"Through American intervention—to put the whole thing in a nutshell," answered Milsom. "Of course it is altogether too early yet to express an opinion in public upon the occurrence; but, strictly between ourselves, and in the privacy of this saloon, I don't mind saying that I believe the Maine was deliberately destroyed, and that the submarine which was stolen from this ship was the instrument by which that was done!"

"That is also my idea, Skipper," answered Jack. "And," he continued, "if our suspicion as to the guilt of the Spaniards should prove correct, there will be war between America and Spain; America will without doubt be the conqueror, and Spain will be forced to relinquish her hold on Cuba, without the need for further effort on the part of the revolutionaries. So far, therefore, as the purchase of additional munitions of war is concerned, I believe, Don Hermoso, that you may save your money."

"Indeed!" said Don Hermoso. "Then in that case, gentlemen, we may as well defer our departure until we see what is about to happen."

And they did.

The rest of the story is a matter of well-known history. A few days later a court of enquiry into the Maine disaster was opened on board the U.S. steamer Mangrove, then lying in Havana harbour, and sat continuously until March 21st; while the wreck of the warship was most carefully examined by divers, who laid the result of their observations before the court. The finding of the court was: "That the loss of the Maine was not in any respect due to fault or negligence on the part of any of the officers, or members of her crew; that the ship was destroyed by the explosion of a submarine mine, which caused the partial explosion of two or more of her forward magazines; and that no evidence has been obtainable fixing the responsibility for the destruction of the Maine upon any person or persons."

But, the last clause of the finding notwithstanding, there was probably not one United States citizen per hundred who did not feel morally convinced that the Spaniards were the guilty parties; and, that being the case, war was from that moment inevitable. On April 8, 1898, General Lee, the United States Consul-General, received orders to leave Cuba and hand over the charge of the United States interests to the British Consul; and on the following day he, with such American citizens as still remained in Havana, left for Florida in a gunboat. On April 18th a conference between the Committees of the two American Houses resulted in the adoption of a certain resolution, which was signed by President McKinley on the 20th of the same month: a copy was served upon Senor Polo y Bernabe, the Spanish Minister at Washington, who immediately asked for his passports, and left that city. On April 21st the President of the United States proclaimed the blockade of the Cuban coast from Cienfuegos westward to Cape San Antonio, and thence north and east past Havana to Cardenas; and as the bulk of the American fleet had been quietly concentrating at Key West from the date of the destruction of the Maine, the blockade was put into effect within eight hours of its declaration. On April 24th the Spanish Government formally recognised the existence of war between itself and the United States; and on the following day the United States Congress passed the following Bill without a division:—

"Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States in congress assembled:—

"First: That war be, and the same is hereby declared to exist, and that war has existed since the 21st day of April, a.d. 1898, including the said day, between the United States of America and the kingdom of Spain.

"Second: That the President of the United States be, and he hereby is, directed and empowered to use the entire land and naval forces of the United States, and to call into the actual service of the United States the militia of the several States, to such extent as may be necessary to carry this Act into effect."

This is not a story of the Spanish-American war. Let it suffice, therefore, to say that, after the landing of the Fifth Army Corps on the island of Cuba on June 24th, and the destruction of the Spanish squadron under Admiral Cervera on July 3rd, a protocol was signed on August 12th, and all hostilities were suspended; and finally, on January 1, 1899, the relinquishment of Spanish sovereignty over Cuba was formally accomplished, the Spanish flag being lowered and the Stars and Stripes temporarily hoisted in its place on the various forts and other Government buildings throughout the island. A singularly pathetic feature of the Spanish evacuation of Cuba was the solemn removal of the alleged remains of Christopher Columbus from their resting-place in Havana Cathedral, and their conveyance to Spain.

The state of the island by the time that the war was ended was of course dreadful beyond description: the inhabitants were, with a few exceptions, reduced to a state of absolute destitution; agriculture had practically ceased; commerce and industry were dead; brigandage was rampant; and, to use the expressive language of the historian, human misery had apparently reached its maximum possibility. Under such circumstances it was not at all difficult for Jack to secure a very large estate adjoining that of Senor Montijo upon exceptionally favourable terms; and although, like that of his friend, the estate consisted but of the soil, now overrun with weeds and the riotous vegetation of the Tropics, labour was abundant, and Jack and his friend Don Hermoso, spending their money freely, soon had every trace of the late troublous times swept away and fresh crops planted. Don Hermoso did not long survive the triumph of the cause which he had so nobly espoused: with the coming of peace there came also time for memory and retrospection, and time for him to miss the dear ones torn from him during the struggle; and shortly after the completion of his great work of restoring his estate to its original prosperous and well-managed condition he passed quietly away—not as the result of any disease in particular, but apparently because now he no longer had anything to live for—and was laid to rest beside his wife.

As for Jack, he felt that after what he had seen of, and done in, Cuba, it was simply impossible for him to turn his back upon the island; he therefore disposed of his interest in the firm of Singleton, Murdock and Company, and invested the proceeds in the further extension and development of his already large estate, and to-day he and Carlos Montijo are two of the most popular, respected, and prosperous tobacco planters in the island. The Thetis, still in existence, is now the joint property of Jack and Carlos, and in her one or the other, and often both of them together, make frequent trips to England and elsewhere for the purpose of personally conducting their more extensive business transactions. She is still commanded by ex-Lieutenant Milsom, R.N., who never tires of congratulating himself that at last he finds himself in possession of what has every appearance of being a permanently "soft job."

THE END