Then, as she ignored them and helped herself liberally to the
food, their own appetites vanished and they pushed themselves away
from the table.
With a twinkle in his eye O'Reilly said, gravely, "Dying people
have strange fancies. Pray don't thwart her."
Indifference so callous on the part of a lover shocked the Cubans.
They rebuked O'Reilly silently; it was plain that they considered
Americans a barbarously cold-blooded race. Meanwhile they
apprehensively watched Norine's every mouthful.
When, after a time, no ill effects having appeared, she suggested
departing, they whispered together. They agreed at last that it
was perhaps the course of wisdom to humor her. She was the guest
of their Government; it would not do to displease her. Inasmuch as
her end was inevitable, it could matter little whether she died
here or elsewhere. Accordingly they saddled their borrowed horses
and set out.
All that afternoon Norine was an object of the tenderest
solicitude on the part of her three Cuban guides. They momentarily
expected to see her stricken. Then when she gave no sign of
distress they marveled, and expressed great admiration at her
fortitude in enduring pain.
That night was spent at another farm-house. When on the next
morning Norine not only was seen to be alive and well, but
insisted upon making her breakfast of mangoes and milk, the fellow
in the derby hat flung his hands on high and told O'Reilly:
"It is no less than a miracle, but now she courts the wrath of
God, senor! As for me, I shall never again associate with
eccentric persons who delight to fly in the face of Providence.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241