"But why should Mr. Felton desire to go to Cuba?" Ashley asks. "I fancied all his interests were in Vermont."
"He says that he has some property that requires his attention there, a sugar plantation, I fancy, or something of the sort. Anyway, he is quite anxious to go."
A sugar plantation in Cuba! Jack draws a long breath and his active mind reverts to his interview with Don Manada. Felton-Alvarez of the captain-general's staff, a young American planter! The son has evidently forsworn his country and by joining the Spanish army has become a Spanish citizen. Therefore he undoubtedly cannot be extradited. But the father?
"How long does Mr. Felton contemplate remaining in Cuba?" Ashley asks, carelessly.
"That will depend upon his inclinations and the condition of his business affairs."
"That means indefinitely," Jack thinks. "Cyrus Felton must not go to Cuba!" Then aloud: "Miss Hathaway, pardon me if I revive unpleasant memories, but the deep personal interest I took in the case must be my apology. Have you head from your sister—since—since the tragedy?"
For a moment Miss Hathaway is silent, her face clouding with the sad thoughts of that last fateful Memorial Day. "Mr. Ashley," she says at last, looking him full in the face, "I have received two letters from my sister Helen. She is well, and I trust happy. She was married in this city the day after they—she—left Raymond."
"To Derrick Ames?"
Louise nods.
"Are they now residing in the city?"
"No; they are not now in this country—I should say this part of the country," she adds, hastily.
For a moment a silence falls and both absently sip their chocolate, busy with their thoughts. Then Ashley remarks, smilingly:
"Apropos of nothing, Miss Hathaway, did you ever hear of the great French ball, the annual terpsichorean revel of Gotham?"
