It was a poorly furnished
banquet, with a service of tin and granite ware and chipped china,
and there was little to eat, but the true spirit of festivity was
present. The Lone Star emblem of the new Republic was draped with
the Stars and Stripes, and there were many speeches.
Norine's protests at leaving Esteban went unheeded, and Leslie
Branch escorted her in place of the bridegroom, who lay blissfully
dreaming in his hammock. Her amazement passed all bounds when,
from the hidden recess behind the palm-leaves, came not the music
of mandolins and guitars, but the strains of a balanced orchestra
under the leadership of Cuba's most eminent bandmaster. Whence the
players had come, where they had found their instruments, was a
mystery, but they played well, divinely, so it seemed to the
music-hungry diners. Such a banquet as that was! Some one had
contributed a demijohn of wine, and there was coffee, too, at the
last, made from the berries of some jungle plant. The chef, once
famous at the Inglaterra, was forced to appear and take homage for
this final triumph.
Rosa, very dainty in her borrowed nurse's uniform, was round-eyed,
timid; she evoked much admiration, but when she was addressed as
Senora O'Reilly she blushed to the roots of her hair and shrank
close to her husband's side. To feel herself secure, to see on all
sides friendly faces, to know that these fine men and women--there
were numerous good Cuban matrons present--were her own people and
meant her well, was almost unbelievable.
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