Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 May 1918 — RAINBOW'S END A NOVEL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

RAINBOW'S END A NOVEL

By REX BEACH

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r SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I—Don Esteban Varona, a Cuban planter, possesses a great treasure hoard. This wealth has been hidden in a well on the estate by Sebastian, a slave, and only he and his master know the secret cache. Don Esteban’s wife dies at the birth of twins, Esteban and Rosa. Don Esteban marries the avaricious Donna Isabel, who knows there is hidden treasure and tries to wring the secret from Sebastian. When the slave refuses she tries to hurt him by having Evangelina, his daughter, whom he loves dearly and who Is the special servant of the twins, sold.

CHAPTER 111. “The O’Reilly." Mario,de Castano, the sugar merchant, to take on weight. He had, in truth, become so fat that he waddled like a penguin when he walked; and when he rode, the springs of his French victoria gave up in despair. In disposition Don Mario was practical and unromantic; he boasted that he had never had an illusion, never an interest outside of his business. And yet, on the day this story opens, this prosaic personage, in spite of his bulging waistband and his taut neckband, In spite of his short breath and his prickly heat, was in a very whirl of pleasurable excitement. Don Mario, in fact, suffered the greatest of all illusions: he was in love, and he believed himself beloved. The object of his adoration was little Rosa Varona, the daughter of his one-time friend Esteban. To be sure, he had met Rosa only twice since her return from her Yankee school, but twice had been, enough; with prompt decision he had resolved to do her the honor of making her his wife. Notwithstanding the rivulets of perspiration that were coursing down every fold of his flesh, and regardless of the fact that the body of his victoria was tipped at a drunken angle, as if struggling to escape the burdens of his great weight, Don Mario felt a jaunti-, ness of body and of spirit almost like that of youth. He saw himself as a splendid prince riding toward the humble home of some obscure maiden whom he had graciously chosen to be his mate.

His arrival threw Donna Isabel into a flutter; the woman could scarcely contairr her curiosity when she came to meet him, for he was not the sort of man to inconvenience himself by mere social visits. Their first formal greetings over, Don Mario surveyed the bare living room and remarked, lugubriously: “I see many changes here.” “No doubt,” the widow agreed. “Times have been hard since poor Esteban’s death.” “What a terrible calamity that was! I shudder when I think of it,” said he. “A shocking affair, truly! and one I shall never get out of my mind.” “Shocking, yes. But what do you think of a rich man, like Esteban, who would leave his family destitute? Who would die without revealing the place where he had stored his treasure?” Donna Isabel, it was plain, felt her wrongs keenly; she spoke with as much spirit as if her husband had permitted himself to be- killed purely out of spite toward her. “As if it were not enough to lose that treasure,” the widow continued, stormiiy, “the government must free all our slaves. Tse! Tse! And now that there is no longer a profit in sugar, my plantations—” “No profit in Sugar? What are you saying?” queried the caller. “If your crops do not pay, then Pancho Cueto is cheating you. Get rid of him. But I didn’t come here to talk about Esteban’s hidden treasure, nor his plantations, nor Pancho Cueto. I came here to talk about your step-daughter, Rosa.” “So?” Donna Isabel looked up quickly. “She interests me. She is more beautiful than the stars.” Don Mario rolled his eyes toward the high ceiling, which, like the sky, was tinted a vivid cerulean blue.

“She is now eighteen,” the fat suitor went on, ecstatically, “and so altogether charming- But why waste time in pretty speeches? I have decided to marry her.” “Rosa has a will of her own,” guardedly ventured, the stepmother. Don Mario broke out, testily : “Naturally; so have we all. Now let us speak* plainly. You know me. I am a person of importance. I am rich enough to afford what I want, and I pay well. You understand? Well, then, you are Rosa’s guardian and you can bend her to your desires.” “If that were only so!" exclaimed the woman. “She and Esteban —what children! What tempers—just like their father’s! They were to be their father’s heirs, you know, and they blame me for his death, for our poverty, and for all the other misfortunes that have overtaken us. We live like cats and dogs.” Don Mario had been drumming his fat fingers impatiently upon the arm of his chair. Now he exclaimed:

“Your pardon, senora, but 1 am just now very little interested in your domestic relations. What you say about Rosa only makes me more eager, for I loathe a sleepy woman. Now tell me, is she — Has she any—affairs of the heart?’* “N-no, unless perhaps a flirtation with that young American, Juan O’Reilly.” Donna Isabel gave the name its Spanish pronunciation of “O’Railye.” “Juan O’Reilly? O’Reilly? Oh, yes! But what has he to offer a woman?’He is little more than a clerk.” z “That is what I tell her. Oh, it hasn’t gone far as yet.” 1‘Good!” Don Mario rose to leave, for the exertion of his ride had made him thirsty. “You may name your own

reward for helping me and I will pay it the day Rosa marries me. Now kindly advise her of my intentions and tell her I shall come to see her soon.” ***** * « It was quite true that Johnnie O’Reilly—or “The O’Reilly,” as his friends called him—had little in the way of worldly advantage to offer any girl, and it was precisely because of this fact that he had accepted a position here in Cuba, where, from, the very nature of things, promotion was likely to be more rapid than in the New York office of his firm. A ‘dancing eye sneaks everv language ; a singing heart gathers its own audience. Before the young IrishAmerican had more than a bowing acquaintance with the commonest Spanish verbs he had a calling acquaintance with some of the most exclusive people of Matanzas. He had adjusted himself serenely to his surroundings when Rosa Varona returned from school, but with her coming, away went all his complacency. His contentment vanished; he experienced a total change in his opinions, his hopes, and his ambitions.

He discovered, for example, that Matanzas was by no means the out-of-the-way place he had considered it; on the contrary after meeting Rosa once by accident, twice 'by design, and three times by mutual arrangement, it had dawned upon him that this was the chief city of Cuba, if not, perhaps, the hub around which the whole world revolved ; certainly it was the most agreeable of all cities, since it contained everything that was necessary for man’s happiness. Yet, despite the thrill of his awakening, O’Reilly was not at all pleased with himself, for, as it happened, there was another girl back home, and during his first year of loneliness he had written to her more freely and more frequently than any man on such a salary as his had a right to do. Inasmuch as her father was O’Reilly’s “company” it may be seen that Rosa Varona’s home-coming seriously complicated matters, not only from a sentimental, but from a business standpoint. It was in a thoughtful mood that he rodft up La Cumbre z toward the Quinta de Esteban, late on the afternoon of Dan Mario’s visit. Instead of going directly to the house, as the merchant had done, O’Reilly turned off from the road and, after tethering his horse in a cluster of guava bushes, proceeded on foot. He did not like Donna Isabel, nor did Donna Isabel like him. Moreover, he had a particular reason for avoiding her today. Just inside the Varona premises he paused an instant to admire the outlook. The quinta commanded an excel-

lent view of the Yumuri, on the one hand, and of the town and harbor on the other; no one ever climbed the hill from the city to gaze over into that hidden valley without feeling a pleasurable surprise at finding it still ther® We are accustomed to think of perfect beauty as unsubstantial, evanescent; but the Yumuri never changed, and in that lay its supremest wonder. Through what had once been welltended grounds, O’Reilly made his way to a sort of sunken garden which, in spite of neglect, still remained the most charming nook upon the place; and tfterp he sat down to wait for Rosa. The hollow was effectually screened from view by a growth of plantain, palm, orange, and tamarind trees; over the rocky walls ran a profusion of flowering plants and vines; in the center of the open space was anil old well, its masonry curb all but crumbled away. ’ When Rosa at last appeared, O’Reilly felt called upon to tell her, somewhat dizzily, that she was beyond doubt the sweetest flower on all the Quinta de Esteban, and since this somewhat hackneyed remark was the boldest speech he had ever made to her, she blushed prettily, flashing him a dimpled smile o? mingled pleasure and surprise., “Oh, but I assure you I’m in no sweet temper," said she. “Just now I’m tremendously angry.” “Why?” “It s that stepmother—lsabel. If she dreamed that I see you as often as I do— Well —’’ Rosa lifted her eloquent hands -and eyes heavenward. “I suppose that’s why I enjoy doing it —I so dearly love to spite her.” “I see!’’ O’Reilly puckered his brows and nodded. “But why, in that case, haven’t you seen me oftener? We might just as well have made the good lady’s life totally unbearable.” "Silly! She knows nothing about it.” With a flirtatious sigh Rosa added: “That’s what robs the affair of its chief pleasure. Since it does not bother her In the least, I think I will not allow you to come any more." After judicious consideration, O’Reilly pretended to agree. “There’s no fun in wreaking a horrible revenge, when your enemy isn’t wise to it,” he acknowledged. “Since it’s your idea to irritate your stepmoth_er, perhaps it would annoy her If I made love directly to her,” Rosa tittered, and then Inquired, naively, “Can you make love, senor?” “Can I? It’s the one ability an O’Reilly inherits. Listen to this now.” Reaching forth, he took Rosa’s fingers in his: “Wait!” he cried as she resisted. “Pretend that you’re Mrs. Varona, your own stepmother, and that this is her dimpled hand I’m holding.” “Oh-h !” The girl allowed his to remain. “But Isabel’s hand isn’t dimpled: it’s thin and body. I’ve felt it on my ears often enough.” “Don’t Interrupt,” he told her. “Isabel, my little darling—” “ ‘lsabel’!” exclaimed a voice, and the lovers started guiltily apart. They turned to find Esteban, Rosa’s' twin brother, staring at them oddly. “Isabel?" he repeated. “What’s this?” “You interrupted our theatricals. I was rehearsing an impassioned proposal to your beloved stepmother,” O’Reilly explained, with a pretense of annoyance. “Yes, Senor O’Reilly believes he can infuriate Isabel by laying siege to her. He’s a—foolish person—” Rosa’s cheeks were faintly flushed and her color deepened at the amusement in Esteban’s eyes. “He makes love wretchedly.” “What little I overheard wasn’t bad," Esteban declared; then he took O’Reilly’s hand.

Esteban was a handsome boy, straight, slim and manly, and his resemblance to Rosa was startling. With a look engaging in Its frank directness, he said: “Rosa told me about your meetings here and I came to apologize for our stepmother’s discourtesy. I’m sorry we can’t inyite you into our house, but —you understand? Rosa and I are not like her; we are quite liberal in our views ;jve are almost Americans, as you see. I dare say that’s what makes Isabel hate Americans so bitterly.” ' • “Wouldn’t it please her to know that I’m becoming Cubanized as fast as ever I can?” ventured the caller. “Oh, she hates Cubans, too!” laughed the brother. “She’s Spanish, you know. Well, it’s fortunate you didn’t see her today. 'Br-r! What a temper! She’ll walk in her sleep tonight, if ever.” Rosa nodded soberly, and O’Reilly, suppressing some light reply that had sprung to his lips, inquired, curiously, “What do you mean by that?” Brother and sister joined in explaining that Donna Isabel was given to peculiar actions, especially after periods of excitement or anger, and that one of her eccentricities had taken the form of somnambulistic, wanderings. “Oh, she’s crazy enough,” Esteban concluded. “I believe it’s her evil conscience.” O’Reilly scanned the speaker silently for a moment ; then he said, with a gravity unusual in him, “I wonder if you know that you’re suspected of—working fpr the insurrecto cause.” . “Indeed? I didn’t know.” “Well, it’s a fact.” O’Reilly heard Rosa gasp faintly. “Is it true?” he asked. ; “I am a Cuban.” “Cuban? Your people were Spanish.” “True. But no Spaniard ever raised a Spanish child in Cuba. We are Cubans, Rosa and I. I go everywhere, and the Spanish officers talk plainly before me; Somebody must be the eyes and the ears for Colonel Lopez.” “Colonel Lopez!” exclaimed O’Reilly. Esteban nodded. Rosa’s face, as she looked at the two men, was white and worried. For a time the three of them sat silent; then the American said, slowly, “You’ll be shot if you’re caught.” ,

“Some one must run chances,” Esteban averred. “We’re fighting tyranny; all Cuba is ablaze. I must do my part.” “But sooner or later you’ll be discovered —then what?” persisted O’Reilly. Esteban shrugged. “Whq knows? There'll be time Enough when—” “What of Rosa?” At this question the brother stirred uneasily and dropped his eyes. O’Reilly laid a hand upon his arm. “You have no right to jeopardize her safety. Without you. to whom could she turn?” The girl flashed her admirer a grateful glance. “‘Senor, you for one would see that She—” ' “But—Pm going away.” O'Reilly felt rather than saw Rosa start, for his face was averted. “I came here to tell you both good-by. I may be gone for some time. I—l don’t know when I can get back.” “I’m sorry,” Esteban told him, with genuine regret. “We have grown very fond of you. But you will come back before long, jeh? You're one of us. In the meantime I’ll remember what you say, and at least I’ll be careful.” By no means wanting in tact, Esteban rose briskly and, after shaking hands with O'Reilly,.left the two lovers to say farewell as best suited them. But for once O'Reilly’s ready tongue was silent. The laughter was gone from his blue eyes when he turned to the girl at his side. “You say you are going away?” Rosa inquired, breathlessly. “But why?" “I’m going partly because of this war and partly because of—something else. I tried to tell you yesterday, but I couldn't. When the revolution started everybody thought it was merely a Ipcal uprising, and I wrote my company to that effect; but, bless you, It has spread like fire, and now the whole eastern end of the island is ablaze. Business has stopped, and my employers have ordered me home to find out what’s happened to their profits.” “You said there was something else —” O’Reilly’s hesitation became an embarrassed silence. He tried to laugh it off. “There Is; otherwise I'd stay right here and tell my penurious friends to whistle for their profits. It seems I’m cursed with a fatal beauty. You may have noticed It? No? Well, perhaps it’s a magnificent business ability that I have. Anyhow, the president of my company has a notion that I’d make him a good son-in-law.” “I— Oh!” cried Rosa.' And at her tone O’Reilly hurried on: “These rich men have the most absurd ideas. I suppose I’ll have to —” “Then you are in love, senor?” The young man nodded vigorously. “Indeed I am—with the sweetest girl in Cuba. That’s the whole trouble. That’s why I’m hurrying home to resign before I’m fired.” Not daring to look too long or too deeply into Rosa Varona's eyes until she had taken In the whole truth, he waited, staring at his feet. “I'm sort of glad it has come to a show-down and I can speak out. I'm hoping she’ll miss me.” After a moment he ventured, “Will she —er— will you, Rosa?” “I? Miss, you?” Rosa lifted her brows in pretended amazement. “You are amusing, of course, but —I won’t have much time to think about you, for I am so soon to be married.” “Married? What? Nonsense I" “Indeed! Do you think I’m so ugly nobody would have me? The richest man in Matanzas has asked for’my hand this very afternoon.” “Who? Mario de Castano?" “Yes.” O’Reilly laughed with relief, and though Rosa tried to look offended, she was forced to smile. “He’s fat, I know,” she admitted, “and he makes funny noises when he breathes; but he is richer than Croesus, and I adore rich men.” “I hate ’em!” announced O’Reilly. Then for a second time he took Rosa’s dimpled hand, saying, earnestly: “I’m sure you know now why I make love so badly, dear. It’s my Irish conscience. And you’ll wait until I come back, won’t you?” “Will you b$ gone—very long?" she asked. O’Reilly looked deeply now into the dark eyes turned to his, and found that at last there was no coquetry in them anywhere—nothing but a lonesome, hungry yearning—and with a glad, incoherent exclamation he held out his arms. Rosa Varona crept into them; then with a sigh she upturned her lips to his. “I’ll wait forever,” she said. (TO BE CONTINUED.)

“You May Name Your Own Reward.”