Rita

n sliding, jumping, running, hurrying, coming every instant nearer and nearer. What had Rita done, indeed? Manuela crouched

ack-browed men, ragged, hatless, shoeless, but all armed, all wit

bell? what h

ent no words came to her lips. But there was one to speak for her. Chiquito, the old gray parrot, rais

to Espana!" There was a moment's silence; then th

s good luck! Welcome to the Cuban ladies and their glorious bird! Viva Cub

from the chapel, erect and jo

seek freedom among you; I am a daughter of Cub

. What joy! what honour for the poor sons of Cuba to form the escort of the peerless sister of Don Carlos to headquarters! But the distance was nothing. They would carry

. Chiquito seemed to think, for his part, that he had done enough. He paid no attention to the blandishments of his ragged

le of which stood a tent, with several rude huts around it. The soldiers explained with eager gestures. Behold the tent of the illustrious General. Behold the dwelling of Don Rodrigo, of Don Uberto, of Don Carlos; behold, finally, Don Carlos himself, emerging from the General's tent. The gallant ragamuffins drew back, and became on the instant

to. They were taking me to the convent, and I would have died soon

rs, and brushed their ragged sleeves across

"What is the meaning of this? what induced you-how could you do such a thing as this? where do you come from? h

o must, she said, be rescued that instant from their wretched plight; and wound up with a vivid description o

the parrot, too!" cried poor Carl

all old man, stooping his head, came out from the tent

omfortable as their limited powers would allow. She would take his tent, of course; it was her own from that instant; but equally of course neither Rita nor Carlos would hear of this. A friendly dispute ensued; and it was finally decided that Rita and Manuela were to make themselves as comfortable as might be in Carlos's own tent, while he shared that of his commander. The General yielded only under protest to this arrangement;

ss, such lofty yet gracious courtesy? Ah! I knew he was a man to die for. How happy we are, to be here at last, after dreaming

he low walls were of rough logs, the roof was a ragged piece of very dingy canvas, held in place by stones here and there. In one corner was a pile of dried grass and leaves, with a blanket thrown over it,-evidently Don Ca

than to live-Here Manuela stopped suddenly, for she had seen something. Rita, whose back was turned to the doorway of the hut, was rating her severely. Was this Manuela's patriotism, she wished to know? had she not said, over and over again, that she was prepared to shed the last drop

l, but that made things more handy, perhaps. The beautiful table that this would become, if she might remove the Se?or Don Carlos's cigar-ashes? There! a scarf thrown over it-ah! What fortune, that she had brought the crimson satin scarf! Behold, an exhibition of beauty! As for the bed, she had heard from-from those who were soldiers themselves, that no couch

sparkling, her cheeks flushed, and she could not keep back th

anuela?" cried Rita. "I insist u

ng. A ragged soldier had strolled past the door of the hut; a black-browed fellow, with a red handker

, save that Manuela had come to her senses, owing to the n

s changeable as a weathercock, Manuela. But as you were saying, if we had a

labours. Without doubt the illustrious Se?or Don Generalissimo (Manuela loved a title, and always made the most of one) requ

repeated Rita. "And whom,

aid Manuela, i

eyes at Manuela. Rita smiled in spite of herself. Was this ragamuffin, barefoot, tattered, his hair in elf-locks,-was this the once elegant Pepe, the admired of himself and all t

is well. If you could find us a few nails, my good Pepe? the Se?or Don Carlo

it. Indeed, she could have given no explanation, save that "things were different." Perhaps our Rita is growing up, inside as well as outsi

e cried. "And here I sit in peace, and have done nothing about those poor creatures in the hut! I m

dly there was such a man. D

ll him that I have something of import

tly the poor fellow had been asleep, and had been roughly clutched and hauled across the camp, for his hair was full

presence of ladies; "Behold the illustrious se?orita, who does

w he could, and stood sheepishly before Rita, trying furtively

dro Valdez?

s Pedro Valdez; in no condition to appear in such comp

a wife, Pedro Valdez,-a wife and a dear little child, is it not so? and your mother-

ft them at home, in our village. They were well, all w

mother fled with the little one. The village was burned, and many souls perished; but Dolores was so strong, so brave, that she got the old mother away alive and safe, and

l's tent and told her story, begging that the husband and father m

eparated again, can they, dear Se?or General? you will make room for Dolores-that i

you are too unreasonable! Do you think we are in a city here? do you think the General has everything at his command, to maintain an establi

os, which you have given to me. I will sleep in a hammock, unde

uld gladly take these poor people, and hundreds of other suffering ones who fill the hills and valleys of our unhappy country. But-Carlos is right, alas! that I must say it. Here in the mountain camp, it is i

o be brought face to face with the impossible was a new experi

now! I see! all may yet be manag

T

k, everything, in abundance, in wicked, shameful abundance. Julio shall take care of them; Julio sha

!-adjusted his glasses, and read the paper carefully; looked at Rita; looked at Carlos, and read the paper again. Rita clenched her little hands, but was calm as marble, as s

you hear? put them in the marble guest-chamber, and place the house at their disposal. Send for Doctor Blanco to attend them; let Teresa wait upon them

de San Re

what I say. We are with the brave General Sevillo, and

y, "is beautiful and inspiring; nevertheless, is it not possible tha

will you learn that we are no longer

r and tore it in two. "The General cannot be troubled with such folly!" he said,

, I pray you, Don Carlos, that Valdez bring his family to us for the night; the rest can well wait for to-morrow's light. The se?orita is exhausted, I fear, with her manifold fat

ools, Carlos on a box. The tea was smoking hot; what did it matter that the nose of the teapot was broken? Rita had never tasted anything so delicious as that cup of hot tea, without milk, and with a morsel of sugar-cane for sweetening. The camp fare, biscuits soaked in water and fried in bacon fat, was better, she declared, than any food she had ever tasted in her life. To her delight, a small box of chocolate still rema