The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1898-12-13
LOVES SACRIFICE.
s Cuban Romance.

monotone from the drums, anu elo"-
IL. in single file, the miserable prison
ers. came into view. Ragged, dirty,
unkempr, footsore, painting from the
blazing August sky, they We're truly
pitiable sight, though they held up
their heads deiantly, and smiled de-
risively at the insulting epithets and
griraces which the lower classes
heaped upon them, especially in the
Vicinity of any officers residence.
The better classes Of the Havanese
showed their sympathy in striking con-
trast to the jeers and jibes of the
baser sort-the men, by their sullen,
indignant looks; the women, by fire.
Quent sobs and tears and smothered
exclamations.
The time was 1851. directly after
the capture Of Crittenden, Lopez's
brave lieutenant, in his ill-starred ex-
petition to Cuba. He and his Spartan
remnant were these forlorn prisoners.
When they reached the Gale de la
Lamparilla, one Of the narrow streets
of the city, the guards suddenly halt
ed the column and reyerently barred
their heads. a funeral procession
was approaching from the opposite
direction, and the line was pushed
close towards the houses jutting on
the narrow footway, scarcely worth
the name Of a sidewalk.
a youth among the foremost pris-
oners, who. evidently, had not the
fortituae of his older companions,
judging by his bowed head and deep
detection, now looked up with a wan
smile Of recognition as pair Of
dark eyes brimning with tears gazed
through latticed window at the pitt
ful sighr.
"Amaha," he whispered.
s:Robercito. Is it indeed you? Oh,
how terrible, I did not dream you
were with them
dearest cousin, save me-" he re-
piled, in Spanish as fluent as her own:
eve are all condemned to be shot in
two days, perhaps sooner. I am too
young to die"
Would that I could, nine querido,
but, alas! an powerless as lamb
among wolves"
"Amalia, don't say that! You have
friends among the Spaniards. For the
love Of my mother"
Forward, march, rang on the air,
and the weary column passed on to
the dungeons of MORO castle.
That night the Senorita Amalia dc
Valdez was a dream Of ioveliness as
she reclined Hstlessly among the cush-
ions on a lounge in her handsome sa-
Ion. Tall, exquisitely formed, with
jettE tresses framing a softly rounded
face, with midnight eyes, so large,
so liquid, so lustrous that her admir-
ers exhausted the afhuence Of their
honeyed tongues in praising them;
with a mouth whose twin carnations
perfect in repose, were still more en-
chanting when her smile disclosed the
dazzling teeth within-it was no Won
der that she was considered to be the
beauty Of beauties in the capital
famed for the grace and loneliness of
it's women.
The young Captain Antonio de
Ramon, who presently entered, was
so enraptured with her appearance
that only the presence of the inevi-
table duenna restrained him from
throwing himself at her feet in real
ity, as well as in the formal saluta-
tion with which Spanish gentlemen
greet all ladies.
''Reso Y 10 pies, senorita.''
She responded in the same fashion,
only kissing his lands (fguratively)
instead of his feet. But sns looked
pre-occupied sad, despondent. He
seated himself near her, while the
duenna. her gentle Tia Maria, retired
to a distant corner.
Tell me, my SOUL" said he, "why
are you so melancholy"
A sigh was the only answer.
''Ah, yes, I know your tender heart
aches for the, poor prisoners you have
seen to-day. Poor fellows! Theirs
is a terrible fate. But tell me, what
is It you wished to ask NE? Can
there BE- wish Of yours I would not
crafty at the risk Of my life, If need
be? I have your precious billet safe
bere," and he pointed to his heart
tTou havs but to command and will
obey
.Tia mia" said Amalia, turning te
her aunt, IT have nislaid my pear
bracelet upstairs. Win you kindly