rose and carried them to their little bed and covered them up. Sweet, innocent childhood, unsuspicious of danger or the deceptions and betrayals of life, the little ones slept.

Nathan crept back to the bedside of his wife, and once more took her thin hand in his. She looked up in his face and whispered:

"What did he say?"

"He gave me five dollars."

cc

That was very good of him, and he will let us stay here?"

"No," he answered slowly, with a choking sigh. "Says he wishes he could, but he can't."

"Did you tell him all?”

"Yes."

It was several minutes before the dying woman could venture to speak; then she whispered:

"If he would come here and see us he would not turn us out in this bitter, cold weather."

"He won't come," Nathan answered, in a tone which displayed more bitterness than he had shown. in all his discourse. "They don't never go themselves, but always send some one to do their work. If they'd go themselves and know more about it, they wouldn't be so hard on us."

"Why don't they?"

"They say they haven't got time; but it's to keep from bein' annoyed. It's the law o' business.

They all say they can't, for the law. Its inexoner. able, an' they can't break anything that's inexonerable."

She did not speak for a long time, but lay with her eyes closed, holding the hard, rough hand in her gentle clasp of love. Their life-path had been rugged from the very first. They had struggled against adversity, and fought the wolf nobly from their door. But the wolf was gaunt and strong, and they grew weaker and weaker year after year. Misfortune after misfortune had overtaken them. The work on which he had depended had stopped, and he was out of employment for weeks at a time. He sought other employment, but the panic of '93 had prostrated all business, and he found it difficult to secure employment sufficient to procure the necessaries of life; and then his wife fell ill, and he was compelled to act as housekeeper and nurse.

The physicians were sure she could not recover, for the symptoms were fatal. They told him so. Nathan was manly, and bore the great blow without a murmur. It was after she had been stricken that they learned to their amazement that the little home which they had purchased of George Phipps had a mortgage on it, which Nathan now knew he could not pay. It is no wonder that he humbled his pride and abandoned his independence to go to the heartless man and implore a relinquishment of the

debt. He had appealed, but appealed in vain, and now he was helpless.

He gave his wife some quieting drops which the kind doctor had left, and under their influence she slept. Then he went and sat by the stove and thought over the past, and tried hard to plan for the dark future that was before him.

Away off somewhere he knew there was a race of people struggling for liberty. He had heard the sad story of Cuba, and he longed to aid the patriots; but with his wife and children to care for, he could. not go away. Some one had told him they had no cold and no consumption in that beautiful land, and he wished he had his wife and children there.

What signify war and danger, what were bloodshed and horror compared to the dread cold and hunger, and consumption, that was destroying the life of the being so dear to him?

The fire burned low and went out, and still he sat in the cold and thought. His reflections were bitter, and his hopes few. In a few days at most he must give up even this poor home, and then-he dared not think any more.

The cold night wind shrieked about the house, crept in through the cracks, rattled against the windows, and still Nathan moved not.

worse.

CHAPTER XI.

THE SINKING SHIP.

AFFAIRS in Cuba went steadily on from bad to The death of that splendid patriot and soldier José Marti did not end the war. Fernando Stevens had scarcely reached home when a letter from Viola told him it would be dangerous for him to venture on the island again. She wrote that she and her aunt were closely guarded, and their escape from Santiago was next to impossible. After this no more letters came, and her fate was shrouded in mystery.

In April, 1895, the Spanish Government raised an army of 25,000 men. Martinez Campos came over from Spain, arriving at Santiago April 16, and went at once to Havana, where he relieved Calleza as Captain-General. Campos at once inaugurated a vigorous campaign. He divided the island into zones, by a series of strongly guarded military lines running north and south, so as to prevent the insurgents from joining forces, and finally to crowd them to the eastern end of the island.