When evening came the Villar brothers sought refuge in an old
sugar-mill, or rather in a part of it still standing. They were on
the main calzada, now, the paved road which links the two main
cities of the island, and by the following noon their destination
was in sight.
O'Reilly felt a sudden excitement when Matanzas came into view.
From this distance the city looked quite as it did when he had
left it, except that the blue harbor was almost empty of shipping,
while the familiar range of hills that hid the Yumuri--that valley
of delight so closely linked in his thoughts with Rosa Varona--
seemed to smile at him like an old friend. For the thousandth time
he asked himself if he had come in time to find her, or if fate's
maddening delays had proved his own and the girl's undoing.
O'Reilly knew that although Matanzas was a prison and a pesthole,
a girl like Rosa would suffer therein perils infinitely worse than
imprisonment or disease. It was a thought he could not bear to
dwell upon.
Signs of life began to appear now, the travelers passed small
garden-patches and occasional cultivated fields; they encountered
loaded carts bound into the city, and once they hid themselves
while a column of mounted troops went by.
O'Reilly stopped to pass the time of day with a wrinkled cartman
whose dejected oxen were resting.
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