e said mysteriously, 'you know what it is, do you
not? It is the mental telepathy. I have known of things most wonderful
to happen by the mental telepathy. Only yesterday my sister
Mercedes----'

"'Quite right,' said I, heading him off, and remembering something I had
read not long before, 'it is indeed a wonderful, subtle thing. We live
in the midst of the unknown. Unseen forces drag us hither and thither.
At times we are brought face to face with the occult, the eerie, the
gruesome. Charcot says in his superb work on the subject
that--er--that--well, we will hardly go into it now. Some other time.
The matter is a profound one, and not to be touched upon lightly. How is
my old friend Alejandro Menendez?'

"'He is well, but--sh! Caution! Are we quite safe here? Yes? It is a
great secret, but I tell _you_--you, a trusted friend. I tell you all!
Alejandro Menendez is at this very moment approaching the shores of our
beloved isle! I can see it now--the beautiful yacht, the calm blue sea,
the brave patriots, and our glorious flag floating in the breeze! And a
more magnificent body of men never set forth in a grander cause; with
hearts full of courage and high purpose to fight, aye, to die, in the
sacred cause of Liberty!'

"'That's great!' said I, with a burst of false enthusiasm, 'great! never
heard anything better in my life! Villasante, old fellow, put it there!
I admire your ner--feeling!' And we clasped hands.

"'And you will join them?' I added.

"'No, not yet,' he said, with an expressive shrug; 'I am more needed
elsewhere; here--in New York. There is money to be raised, arms and
ammunition to be procured, sympathies to enlist, influence to gain.
Later, I will see Alejandro, and the beautiful _Sylph_.'

"'The what?' I asked, rising excitedly.

"'The _Sylph_--the _Sylph_--queen of vessels! Senor Robson's yacht.
Senor Robson--the tall handsome fellow who was with us at the Spa. You
know him.'

"'Know him? Of course I know him! Robson? Robson a filibuster?
Impossible!'

"'Why so?' asked the Cuban coldly.

"'Hell, man!' I said, 'don't you realize what it all means?--certain
failure, disgrace, death! My God, what folly!'

"'Never, never!' shouted Villasante, waving his arms. 'Glory awaits
them! The plaudits of the world! The embraces and blessings of a freed
people! Laurel wreaths shall crown their brows! Poets shall chant their
praises! History will render them immortal! Oh, what an opportunity is
theirs!