CHAPTER XXIV.
FOR THE CAUSE OF LIBERTY.
"You proposed to a lady to-night."
"What is that to you, sir?" Don Manada turns fiercely upon the gentleman who has tapped him upon the shoulder and requested the pleasure of a few moments' conversation with him.
"Nothing to me, perhaps," returns Phillip Van Zandt, quietly; "to you much, possibly. Sit down. Or better, suppose we adjourn to the arcade. We shall be freer from interruption there."
"I must decline to accompany you, sir, until I have reason to believe that the matter on which you desire to talk is of more importance than your opening remark would indicate."
Van Zandt surveys the Cuban with a trifle of impatience. "As you please," he observes. "But permit me to say that upon your disposition to listen to what I have to impart depends the success or failure of the expedition which is to start for Cuba to-morrow—or, rather, to-day."
Manada starts violently and bends a searching look upon the other's face. "Nothing could be of greater importance to me, sir," he says, and without further remark he follows Van Zandt to the little table where an hour ago he for the third time offered Isabel Harding his hand and heart.
"Now, to business," remarks Van Zandt, glancing at his watch. "It is 1:30. Thirty minutes for talk, the rest of the night for action. You are Don Manada of the Cuban revolutionary society." That gentleman bows. "I am Phillip Van Zandt. That is all you need know concerning myself. Mrs. Isabel Harding, the lady to whom you made violent love to-night"—the Cuban scowls, but Van Zandt goes on relentlessly—"I have known for some months. She has honored me—shall I
