After avenging her lover’s death, Marie returned again to Manila where she remained at home until the Filipino uprising against the American troops in the spring of 1899. During this interval of nine months, she daily frequented the places of rendezvous of the American troops stationed in and around Manila. She also went to the officers’ homes in the city where their wives and children were stopping. She did their washing, and cared for the children. Her congeniality made her a favorite. Some of the American ladies offered to bring her back to America with them for a house-hold servant.

From them she learned to speak the English language nearly as fluently as Spanish. The American soldiers were kind and polite to her. She made considerable money by doing washing for them. It was noticeable that she was gradually improving the old bamboo home in Manila. In a few months she had come into possession of more money than she thought there was in the entire world. Most of it was American gold—largely in five dollar denominations. (This is what the United States used in paying the soldiers.) These she took to the Spanish bank in Manila and exchanged them for Mexican silver, which, until the United States began to issue special coins for the Philippine islands, was the standard medium of exchange in the archipelago.

Marie began to dress better. Her penia cloth gave way to Chinese silks; her wooden hair combs to expensive ones inlaid with gold, bought at the Spanish bazar down town. Many little comforts were bought for her home. Still the washings kept growing larger. She and her mother could be seen back of their shack, in the shade, pounding American soldiers’ white uniforms on large boulders from early morning till night.

Aguinaldo, who had previously sold out his country and gone to Singapore, after commissioning Dimiguez, upon hearing that war was about to begin between the United States and Spain, made his way northward to Hongkong. After the battle of Manila Bay, Dewey despatched the revenue cutter, “McCulloch,” to Hongkong to cable home the news of his splendid victory. On her return to Manila, she permitted Aguinaldo to come along.

After a brief conversation with Admiral Dewey on board the “Olympia,” he went ashore at Cavite, his boyhood home, began to organize the Filipinos into a powerful army, captured 1500 Spanish soldiers who were holding out-lying posts, and hemmed in the city of Manila.

On August 13, following, Dewey and General Merritt, by a union of their forces, captured the city of Manila which offered but slight resistance. Aguinaldo’s native troops rushed forward with the Americans in the charge that was made by the land forces and they insisted on looting the city. General Merritt refused this and ordered them to withdraw beyond the city limits. This they did after considerable wrangling. Then the Americans established out-posts on every road and pathway leading to and from the city, completely around the town; and they were given instructions by the commanding officer not to allow any Filipino troops to enter the city.

Aguinaldo discarded his uniform one evening, completely disguised himself as a Filipino fruit-vender, and made his way into Manila. Naturally, he slipped around to the home of his old friends, the Sampalits. He sat in a semi-darkened room, with all the hinged-windows to the shack tightly closed and stroked Marie’s soft black hair with his left hand. As he engaged her and her mother in conversation in subdued tones, he little thought that in so short a time Marie would be associated with him in a series of bloody tragedies that would revolutionize the government of the islands forever.

“Marie,” said he, “I’m going to force the Americans to acknowledge the independence of the Philippine islands, or I shall not permit the rest of their army to land. Dewey tells me he has sent home for reinforcements. There is no use for us to let these troops land, if America instead of Spain is going to govern the islands. What we want is absolute independence with myself as president of the new Filipino Republic. If the Americans won’t concede this to us, let’s fight!”

“That’s what I say!” declared Marie. “Let’s drive the foreign devils off the islands or slay them all. Here’s father dead and—Dimiguez, too”—Marie’s voice trembled—“I tell you it’s too much. Let’s kill every one of them!”

“Yes; but say Marie, we must keep quiet about all this,” cautioned Aguinaldo. “I’ll tell you what I have in mind. We’ll wait about four weeks and by that time if Dewey hasn’t received definite instructions from Washington, and if he won’t give me any satisfaction, I’m going to go to Malolos, proclaim myself Dictator of the Philippines, appoint a cabinet and a congress from among some of the bright young Filipinos here in Manila who have been educated abroad, draw up a Revolutionary form of government, and begin to administer the affairs of these islands just as I please.

“We’ll keep our present army in the field, and if the Americans do land we’ll shut them up in Manila, so that they will have nothing at their command but the city to regulate. This won’t amount to much as compared with the rest of the islands which I will dominate.”

“Are you sure the Americans won’t land a powerful army, cut through your lines around Manila and drive you out of Malolos, or capture you and your officials at that place? It seems to me I would go farther inland—say to San Isidro,” said Marie.

Aguinaldo thought a moment, then replied: “That’s true, in a sense, Marie; but I have got to be on or near the railroad where I can have easy and rapid access to Manila. Malolos is not far from here and it is situated on the railroad. It has some very large buildings in which our legislative sessions could be held. I think it the place for the undertaking.

“To be on the safe side, I believe I will have our troops erect a series of fortifications between here and there along the railroad track, so that if the Americans do attempt to advance by that route I can easily stop them.”

“I think that would be a good scheme,” said Marie. “Malolos is about twelve miles from Manila Bay; besides, the bay is shallow in the north end, so that heavy boats could not go up there. This will make it impossible for Dewey to shell the place with his fleet. We’ve got to watch out for that—no matter what we do. My! but those American ships can shoot! Did you hear about me shooting at ’em with that cannon on Corregidor island when they entered the bay? I mighty near got one of their vessels.”

“No,” said Aguinaldo, “I have not heard very much about the firing off Corregidor, but as I came from Hongkong the other day on the “McCulloch” I noticed that the Spanish fortifications on the island had all been dismantled.”

“Why! they killed a man right at my feet, the very first shot,” said Marie; “and then one of their boats drew nearer and fired several times more and they killed every Spaniard in the relief guard which was near by,—seven of them in all.”

“And I was terribly worried about Marie,” interrupted her mother who had listened to the conversation with deepest interest. “She had been gone for a week, and I hadn’t heard a word from her.”

“Oh! well, I don’t pity the Spaniards any for what the Americans did to them,” interjected Aguinaldo, with some emphasis.

“Be careful,” said old lady Sampalit, putting her finger on her lips, “don’t speak too loud.”

Aguinaldo continued in a lower voice: “They killed your husband. They shot Rizal. They strangled Dimigeuz. They tortured to death several hundred of our young fellows in the dungeons. They have left ridges of dead wherever their armies have moved among us. I tell you they deserved all they got.”

Mrs. Sampalit and Marie had grown heavy hearted. Aguinaldo looked at his watch. It was after ten P. M.

“I wonder,” said Aguinaldo, hesitatingly, “how I shall be able to get back to our lines tonight.”

“Don’t go!” said Marie, in an emphatic whisper, “stay over night!”

“Yes, do!” entreated the old lady, “I’m nervous.”

“It might be best; it would surely be the safest thing to do,” said Aguinaldo, in a meditating manner.

“We sleep on bamboo beds,” said Marie. “There stands mine. You may use it tonight, and I will sleep on the floor. I don’t mind. Mother and I frequently lie down on the floor near the window, when the nights are sultry.”

The next morning Aguinaldo arose very early, made his way to the edge of the city and stealthily stole out threw the Americans’ lines, never again to return to Manila until General Funston brought him back, two years later, a captive.

He made his way to Malolos, a few weeks after this conversation, declared himself “Dictator of the Philippines,” appointed a Filipino congress, set up a government of his own and began to run the general affairs in the interior of Luzon.