Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1918-07-09
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him. He kissed the envelope where
her lips had caressed it in the sealing.
Then with eager fingers he broke 1t
open.
1t was generous epistle, long and
closely written, but as he read his keen
delight turned to dismay, and when
he had turned the last thin page his
brain was in widest turmoil. He
thought he must be dreaming. Could
1T be that he had misunderstood any
thing? He turned to the beginning and
ATTEMPTED to read, but his hands shook
so that he was obliged to lay the letter
nat upon his desk.
My Dear Beloved: It is with diff1dence
and hesitation that I take my pen in
hand, for I fear you may consider me
unduly forward in writing to you with
out solicitation.
Alasl We are refugees, Esteban and I
-fugitives. outcasts. living in the mani
qua with Asensio and Evangelina. former
slaves of our father. Such poverty, such
indescribable circumstances! But they
were our only friends ani they took us
in when we were homeless, so we love
them.
II this letter reaches you-and send
1t with prayer-what then? I dare not
think too long of that, for the hearts OF
men are not like the hearts of women.
What will you say when you learn that
the Rosa Varona whom you favored with
your admiration is not the Rosa Of to-
day7 hear you murmur, "The girl for
gets herself" But, oh, the standards OF
yesterday are gone and my reserve Is
gone, too! I am a hunted creature.
Rosa had compelled herself to start
with the death Of Donna Isabel and to
give him succinct account Of all that
had followed. O'Reilly read the story,
fascinated.
That II how We came to live with Asensio
and his wife. Imagine It! A bohio, hid
den away far up the Yumuri, and so in
significant as to escape attention. We are
no longer people OF consequence or au'
thority: our safety depends upon, our m
conspicuousness.
Tho whole country IL in chaos There
Is no work-nothing but suspicion, hatred,
and violence. Oh, what desolation this
war has wrought! .Esteban has already
become a guerrillero. He has stolen a
COW, and 80 We have milk for our coffee:
but there Is only a handful Of coffee left,
and little hope Of more. Maraudlng bands
Of spaniards are everywhere. and the
country people tell atrocious tales about
them. How will 1t end? How long be-
fore they will discover US and the worst
will happen7
II only you were here Oh. my dear
est JuanI If only you were hereto take
me in your arms and Danish this ever
constant terror at my heart. If only you
were here to tell me that you love me
still in spite Of my misfortune. See! The
tears are falling as I write You will re-
turn, will you not? I could not write like
this If were sure that you would read
these lines. My nightly prayer But I
will not tell you Of my prayers. for tate
may guide this letter to you, after all.
those dark hours when my doubts arise
I try to tell myself that you viii surely
come and search me out.
When you return to Cuba-see, my faith
II strong again-avoid Matanzas, for your
own sake and mine. Don Mario wanted
to marry me to save me this exile. But
I refused; I told him was pledged to
you, and he was furious. He Is power
full; he would ba1k you, and there Is al
ways room for ono more in San Severino.
II could come to you. would. but l
am marked SO II you still desire me you
must search me out. You will? I pin my
faith to that as to the Cross. To doubt
would be to perish. If we should have to
ind another hiding-place, and that IS al
ways likely. you can learn OF our where
abouts from Colonel Lopez.
Alasl If you had asked mo to go with
you that dayl I would have followed you.
for my heart beat then as 1t beats today.
for you alone. =.
The candle Is burning low and 1t will
soon be daylight, and then this letter must
begin its long, uncertain journey. trust
the many blots upon the paper will not
give you . wrong impression Of my writ
Ing, for am neat, and write nicely'
only now the ink is poor and there is very
little Of It, There Is little of anything.
here at Asensio's house. except tears: OF
those I fear there are too many to please
you, my Juan. for men do not like tears.
Thsfetore try to smile as elgn rayself.
Your loving and your faithful
ROSA.
O God! Come quickly. II you love me-
(To be Continued.)