Kitabı oku: «The Dust of Conflict», sayfa 12
“The cases are marked as he told us, and I’ve left them on the line,” he said. “I guess nobody would think of looking for rifles there. When are your friends coming for them, Maccario?”
“I think that is better not mentioned,” said Maccario. “Those cases will, however, not be there to-morrow.”
“And your men?” said Appleby. “I cannot have them here.”
“You will listen to reason, my friend. I know you are one who keeps his word, and we will send no more rifles here. Still, those men work well, and the Señor Harding is not a Loyalist. He is here to make the dollars, and because the Spaniards are masters of Cuba he will not offend them. By and by, however, there is a change, and when it is we who hold the reins it may count much for him that he was also a friend of ours.”
“You know he is not a Loyalist?” said Appleby.
Maccario laughed a little. “Can you doubt it – while the hacienda of San Cristoval stands? There are many burnt sugar mills in Cuba, my friend.”
“Now,” said Harper dryly, “it seems to me he’s talking the plainest kind of sense. Make him promise he’ll give you warning, and take his men out quietly when he wants them for anything.”
Maccario gave his promise, and they sat talking for awhile until there was a knocking at the door below, and Pancho, who came up the stairway in haste, stopped where the light showed the apprehension in his olive face.
“Comes the Colonel Morales, and there are cazadores in the cane,” he said.
There was a sudden silence, and Maccario, who started to his feet, seized one of the bags of silver. He, however, nodded and sat down again when Appleby’s hand fell on his shoulder. There was, it was evident, no escaping now, for a quick tread showed that the officer was already ascending the stairway. Maccario made a little gesture of resignation.
“He has never seen me as a merchant of tobacco, and if he notices too much it is assuredly unfortunate for him,” he said. “Pancho will already have the affair in hand.”
Appleby said nothing, but he could feel his heart thumping painfully as he leaned on the table until Morales came in. He carried his kepi in one hand, and though he greeted Appleby punctiliously there was a little gleam in his eyes, while for just a moment he glanced keenly at Maccario. In the meanwhile Appleby saw Pancho’s face at the lattice behind his shoulder, and surmised that Morales was running a heavy risk just then. He had little esteem for the Spanish colonel, but it seemed to him that the fate of the San Cristoval hacienda, as well as its manager, depended upon what happened during the next five minutes.
“You will take a glass of wine, and these cigars are good,” he said.
Though every nerve in his body seemed to be tingling his voice was even; but while the officer poured out the wine Maccario laid a bundle of cigars before him, and smiled at Appleby.
“Your pardon, señor – but this is my affair,” he said. “It is not often I have the opportunity of offering so distinguished a soldier my poor tobacco, though there are men of note in Havana and Madrid who appreciate its flavor, as well as the Señor Harding.”
Morales glanced at him, and lighted a cigar; but Appleby fancied he was at least as interested in the bag of silver on the table.
“The tobacco is excellent,” he said.
Maccario took out a card. “If you will keep the bundle it would be an honor,” he said. “If you are still pleased when you have smoked them this will help you to remember where more can be obtained. We” – and he dropped his voice confidentially – “do not insist upon usual prices when supplying distinguished officers.”
“That is wise,” said Morales, who took the cigars. “It is not often they have the pesetas to meet such demands with. You will not find business flourishing in this country, which we have just swept clean of the Sin Verguenza. They have a very keen scent for silver.”
“No,” said Maccario plaintively. “There are also so many detentions and questions to be answered that it is difficult to make a business journey.”
Morales laughed, “It is as usual – you would ask for something? Still, they are good cigars!”
“I would venture to ask an endorsement of my cedula. With that one could travel with less difficulty.”
He brought out the strip of paper, and Morales turned to Appleby. “This gentlemen is a friend of yours?”
Appleby nodded, and the officer scribbled across the back of the cedula, and then, flinging it on the table, rose with a faint shrug of impatience.
“A word with you in private!” he said.
Appleby went out with him into the veranda, and set his lips for a moment when he saw, though Morales did not, a stealthy shadow flit out of it. He also surmised there were more men lurking in the patio beneath, and felt that a disaster was imminent if Maccario’s apprehensions led him to do anything precipitate. Then it seemed scarcely likely that the colonel of cazadores would leave the place alive. Still, his voice did not betray him.
“I am at your service, señor.” he said.
“The affair is serious,” said Morales dryly. “I am informed that there are arms concealed in your factory. Ten cases of them, I understand, are in your store shed.”
If he had expected any sign of consternation he did not see it, for Appleby smiled incredulously.
“If so, they were put there without my consent or knowledge, but I fancy your spies have been mistaken,” he said.
“Will you come with me and search the shed?”
Morales made a little gesture of assent. “I have men not far away, but I am a friend of the Señor Harding’s, and it seemed to me the affair demanded discretion,” he said. “That is why I left them until I had spoken with you. Still, if we do not find those arms nobody will be better pleased than me.”
They went down the stairway, and Appleby bade a man in the patio summon his comrades. Then they walked along the tramway towards an iron shed, where there was a delay while one of the men lighted a lantern and opened the door When this was done they went in, and for almost an hour the peons rolled out barrels and dragged about boxes and cases of which they opened one here and there. Still, there was no sign of a rifle, and when they had passed through two or three other sheds Morales’ face was expressionless as he professed himself satisfied. They walked back silently side by side, until the officer stopped by a cane truck and rubbed off the ash from his cigar on one of the cases that lay upon it. He also moved a little so that he could see Appleby’s face in the light of the lantern a dusky workman held. The latter was eyeing Morales curiously, and Appleby fancied by the way he bent his right hand that very little would bring the wicked, keen-pointed knife flashing from his sleeve.
“It seems that my informants have been mistaken,” said the colonel. “I can only recommend you the utmost discretion. It is – you understand – necessary.”
He turned with a little formal salutation and walked down the tram-line, while the dusty workman smiled curiously as he straightened his right hand. Appleby gasped and went back slowly, while he flung himself down somewhat limply into a chair when he reached his living-room, where Harper sat alone.
“Where is Maccario?” he asked.
“Lit out!” said Harper dryly. “He’d had ’bout enough of it, though I guess his nerves are good. Kind of a strain on your own ones too?”
Appleby’s face showed almost haggard, and he smiled wearily.
“It is evident that if we have much more of this kind of thing I shall earn my salary, though the Sin Verguenza will apparently get most of it,” he said.
XV – TONY’S LAST OPPORTUNITY
THE sun shone pleasantly warm, and a soft wind sighed among the branches, when Violet Wayne pulled up her ponies where the shadows of the firs fell athwart the winding road that dipped to Northrop valley. There had been a shower, and a sweet resinous fragrance came out of the dusky wood. Godfrey Palliser, who sat by the girl’s side, however, shivered a little, and buttoned the big fur-trimmed coat that lay loose about him, which did not escape his companion’s attention.
“Shall we drive out into the sun?” she asked.
“No,” said the man, “I think I should be just as chilly, and the view from here pleases me. It is scarcely likely that I shall see it very often again.”
Violet Wayne shook her head reproachfully as she glanced at him, though she felt that the prediction might be verified, for Godfrey Palliser had never been a strong man in any respect, and though he sat stiffly upright he looked very worn and frail just then. The pallor of his face also struck a little chill through her, for her pulses throbbed with the vigor of youth, and all the green world about her seemed to speak of life and hope. Yet there was a gravity in her eyes, which suggested that the shadow of care also rested upon her.
“That is not the spirit to hasten one’s recovery, and you have been ever so much better lately,” she said.
There was a curious wistfulness in Godfrey Palliser’s smile, and he laid a thin hand upon her arm. “I should like a little longer respite, if it was only to see you Tony’s wife,” he said. “Then I should know that what I had striven for so long would be worthily accomplished. Still, since my last illness I have other warnings than those the eminent specialist gave me, and I do not know at what hour the summons may come.”
At the mention of Tony the shadow deepened for a moment in the girl’s face, for it seemed to her there was a meaning behind what the old man had said which chimed with the misgivings that had troubled her of late. Still, she was loyal, and would not admit it even to herself.
“Tony would have made you a worthy successor in any case,” she said.
Godfrey Palliser smiled curiously. “Tony has many likable qualities, but he is weak,” he said. “That, my dear is one reason I am glad that he is going to marry you, for it is a burden I shall, I think very shortly, bequeath him. You will help him to lighten it, as well as bear it honorably.”
“There are, as you know, women in this country who would not consider it a burden,” said the girl.
Godfrey Palliser stretched out his hand and pointed to the vista of sunlit valley which, framed by the dark fir branches, opened up before them. Green beech wood, springing wheat, and rich meadow rolled away into the blue distance under a sky of softest azure, with the river flashing in the midst of them. Across the valley, under its sheltering hill-slope the gray front of Northrop Hall showed through embowering trees, and the tower of a little time-worn church rose in the foreground. It was this, Violet Wayne noticed, the old man’s eyes rested longest on.
“It will all be yours and Tony’s from this bank of the river as far as the beech woods where Sir George’s land breaks in, and it is a burden I have found heavy enough these thirty years,” he said. “The debt was almost crushing when it came to me, and rents were going down, while one can look for very little from agricultural property. I did what I could, and thanks to the years of economy the load is a little lighter now; but once I betrayed the trust reposed in me, and failed in my duty.”
Violet Wayne could not quite hide her astonishment, for no shadow of reproach had ever touched the punctilious Godfrey Palliser. He smiled when he saw the incredulity in her eyes.
“It is quite true, and yet the temptation to deceive myself was almost irresistible,” he said. “For thirty years I had lived at Northrop with the good will of my tenants and my neighbors’ esteem, and if that counted for too much with me it was because I felt I held the honor of the name in trust to be passed on unblemished to you and Tony, and those who would come after you. That was why I yielded, and it is only because you will be Tony’s wife I make confession now.”
“You are cold,” said the girl hastily. “We will drive out into the sunshine.”
Godfrey Palliser nodded, but he turned to her again as the ponies went slowly down the hill. “It is necessary that you should listen, because the man may live to trouble you,” he said. “It never became apparent who killed Davidson – for killed he was – but Tony and I knew, though I strove to convince myself the man I should have exposed might be innocent. Bernard Appleby would not have escaped to America if I had done my duty. Had the warrant been signed when it should have been Stitt would have arrested him.”
“You cannot believe that Bernard Appleby was guilty!”
“I am sure, my dear. I would not admit it, but I knew it then – and still, perhaps, I had excuses. The man was of my own blood, and I had meant, when he had proved his right to it, to do something for him. Tony is generous, and would not have grudged what I purposed to spare for him. It was a crushing blow, and left me scarcely capable of thinking, while before I quite realized it the thing was done, and I had become an accessory to the escape of a criminal.”
He stopped, gasped a little, for he had spoken with a curious intensity of expression; but the girl looked at him steadily.
“Still,” she said quietly, “I am not convinced yet.”
“No? It is quite plain to me that it could only have been him or Tony, and the latter suggestion is preposterous.”
“Yes,” said the girl, who shivered a little, though the sun was warm. “Of course it is! Still, I cannot believe that the culprit was Bernard Appleby.”
Palliser smiled faintly. “One could envy you your charity, my dear, but I have a charge to lay on you. That man may come back – and Tony would temporize. You, however, will show him no mercy. Not one penny of the Northrop rents must be touched by him – and now we will talk of something pleasanter.”
Violet Wayne shook the reins, and made an effort; but the old man appeared exhausted, and she was glad that he evinced no great interest in her conversation. What he had told her had left its sting, for she had already been almost driven to the decision he had come to. Appleby, she felt, – why she did not exactly know, though the belief was unshakable, – could not have done the horrible thing, and all the love and loyalty she possessed revolted against the suggestion that Tony was guilty. Yet the brightness seemed to have gone out of the sunlight, and the vista of wood and meadow lost its charm while the shadow deepened in her face as they drove down into the valley.
Her mother was waiting on the terrace when they reached Northrop Hall, and when Palliser had gone into the house leaning on a man’s shoulder she looked at the girl curiously.
“You are a trifle pale, Violet,” she said. “Of course, it is almost a duty, and he seems more tranquil in your company; but I have fancied lately that you spend too much time with Godfrey Palliser. He seems unusually feeble.”
“I do not think he is as well to-day,” said the girl.
“He has sent for lawyer Craythorne,” said her mother thoughtfully. “Well, you must shake off any morbid fancies he may have infected you with. You have Tony to consider, and he has been moody lately. I scarcely like to mention it, my dear, but I wonder if you have noticed that he is not quite so abstemious as he was a little while ago.”
A flush of crimson crept into the girl’s cheek, and once more the little chill struck through her, but she met the elder lady’s eyes.
“I think you must be mistaken, mother,” she said.
She turned and went into the house, but Mrs. Wayne sighed as she walked thoughtfully up and down the terrace, for she had noticed more than she had mentioned, and had fancies that were not pleasant to her. She had borne much sorrow in her time with a high courage, but she was anxious that afternoon, for it seemed to her that there might be a grim reality behind those fancies.
Godfrey Palliser insisted on dining with his guests that evening, which he had seldom done since his illness, and his four companions, among whom was the lawyer who had done his business for thirty years, long remembered that meal. Their host was dressed with his usual precision, and sat stiffly erect, as though disdaining the support the high-backed chair that had been brought him might afford, but the sombre garments emphasized the pallor of his face, until, as the glow of the sinking sun streamed in through the colored lights above the western window, a ruddy gleam fell upon it. In that forced brilliancy its hollowness and fragility became more apparent, and it was almost a relief to those who sat at meat with him when the hall grew shadowy. He ate very little, and scarcely spoke to any one but Violet, though his voice was curiously gentle when he did so; and when he sat silent his eyes would rest on her and Tony with a little contented smile.
Though they did what they could to hide it, there was a constraint upon the party which the very servants seemed to feel, for Tony fancied they were more swift and noiseless in their movements than usual. He also noticed the curious look in one man’s eyes when, though the light was scarcely fading outside, Godfrey Palliser signed to him.
“Bring lights. I cannot see,” he said.
The lights were brought, naked wax candles in great silver holders, and their pale gleam flung back from glass and silver had a curious effect in the lingering daylight. There was silence for awhile, and Tony was grateful to Mrs. Wayne, who broke it tactfully; but the vague uneasiness remained, and more than one of those who saw the strained expression in his eyes wondered whether it was the last time Godfrey Palliser would dine in state at Northrop Hall. Nobody was sorry when Mrs. Wayne rose, but Palliser smiled at his nephew when Violet went out of the room with her.
“You will spare me a few minutes, Tony. I have something to ask you,” he said. “We need have no diffidence in speaking before Mr. Craythorne.”
The elderly lawyer bent his head, and Tony felt uneasy. “I shall be glad to tell you anything I can, sir,” he said.
“It is rather your opinion than information I want,” said Palliser. “Some time ago you tried to convince me of Bernard’s innocence, while to-day Violet persisted that she could not believe him guilty – even when I pointed out that so far as I could see the culprit was either you or he. Are you still as sure Bernard was not the man responsible for Davidson’s death as you were then? I am not asking without a purpose, and the fact that we are honored with Craythorne’s company will show you that I consider it necessary to set my house in order. It may be yours very soon now, Tony.”
His low, even voice jarred upon one listener, and Tony spoke no more than the truth when he broke out, “I hope you will hold it a good many years yet, sir!”
“Yes,” said Palliser, with a little smile, which something in his eyes redeemed from being coldly formal, “I believe you though I scarcely think it likely. Still, you have not answered my question.”
“My opinion is not worth much, sir.”
“I have asked you for it,” said Palliser. “Nobody knows Bernard so well as you do, and while I have scarcely a doubt in my own mind, Violet’s faith in him had its effect on me. After all, he belongs to us, and I would like to believe him innocent, incredible as it seems, or at least to hear something in extenuation. You will think me illogical in this, Craythorne?”
Craythorne smiled. “Then I admit that, being a lawyer, I am more so, for I would believe in Bernard Appleby against the evidence of my eyes. It also seems to me that the intuitions of young women of Miss Wayne’s kind merit more respect than they usually receive.”
“I am still waiting, Tony,” said Palliser.
Tony sat silent almost too long, for the words “either you or he” troubled him. Had Godfrey Palliser not spoken them he might have answered differently, but as it was his apprehensions overcame him.
“It is a hard thing to admit, but I am afraid my views have changed since then,” he said.
The lawyer regarded him covertly, and noticed the furtiveness of his eyes, but Palliser sighed. “You have,” he said, “nothing to urge in extenuation?”
“No, sir,” said Tony. “I wish I had!”
“Then you will be so much the richer,” said Palliser dryly. “Now Violet will be waiting, and Craythorne and I have a good deal to do. I shall retire when we have finished. Good night, Tony!”
He held out his hand when Tony rose, and the younger man noticed how cold his fingers felt. “Good night, sir,” he said. “I trust you will feel brighter in the morning.”
The chilly fingers still detained him and Palliser said very quietly, “One never knows what may happen, Tony; but it would be my wish that you and Violet did not wait very long.”
Tony went out with a curious throbbing of his pulses and a horrible sense of degradation, for he knew that he had perjured himself to a dying man who trusted him. The room he entered was dimly lighted, but he knew where the spirit stand and siphon were kept, and a liberal measure of brandy was frothing in the glass, when there was a light step behind him and a hand touched his arm.
“No!” said a low voice with a little ring of command in it.
Tony started, and swinging round with a dark flush in his face saw Violet Wayne looking at him. There was also a little more color than usual in her cheeks, but her eyes were steady, which Tony’s were not.
“I never expected you, Violet,” he said. “You made me feel like a boy caught with his hand in the jam-pot. It’s humiliating as well as ludicrous!”
The girl smiled very faintly. “I am afraid it is,” she said. “Do you know, Tony, that this is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life?”
Tony saw the slight trembling of her lips, and laughed somewhat inanely as he held out his hands.
“I think I needed it!” he said; and in a sudden fit of rage seized the glass and, moving a few steps forward, flung it crashing into the grate. Then he turned and faced the girl, flushed to the forehead, but stirred to almost unwilling respect.
“There is not one woman of your station in a thousand who would have had the courage to do that,” he said. “Still, it is preposterous to think that there was the least reason for it.”
“Tony,” said the girl very slowly, “I fancy I should hate you if you ever made it necessary for me to do as much again, but we will try not to remember it. What has been troubling you?”
Tony was glad of the opening, though under different circumstances he would not have availed himself of it.
“I’ll try to tell you,” he said. “I am afraid Godfrey Palliser is very shaky. In fact he was oppressively morbid to-night.”
“No,” said the girl. “I know what you mean, but morbid is not the right word. Your uncle is now and then pedantic but one could only feel respect for him to-day.”
“Of course!” said Tony. “I shall be very genuinely sorry if his fancies turn out right. That, however, is not the question. He asked me if I still believed in Bernard, and I had a difficult thing to do. It seems that your faith in the man had almost convinced him. He wanted to believe him innocent, and leave him something in his will.”
“And you told him – ”
“What could I tell him? Only that I was not so sure of Bernard as I had been.”
There was a gleam of something very like anger in Violet Wayne’s eyes. “So you shattered the faint hope he clung to, and turned the forgiveness, which, mistaken or not, would have been a precious thing just now, into vindictive bitterness!”
“He asked me,” said Tony. “What could I do?”
“You could have defended your friend – the man who has done so much for you.”
Tony stared at her, and once more the girl felt a little shiver of apprehension when she saw his face, but in a moment he recovered himself.
“I want to know exactly what you mean by that?” he said.
“Isn’t it evident from what you have told me of your early days?”
Tony’s apprehension disappeared, for it seemed he had been mistaken. “Of course!” he said. “Still, the difficulty was that I couldn’t urge anything. I can’t see why you believe in Bernard, Violet. Isn’t it plain that – it must have been either he or I?”
Tony was not devoid of a certain cunning, and the boldness of the question had its effect, but the girl’s eyes gleamed as she said, “I could almost as soon believe you guilty as Bernard Appleby.”
“Then,” said Tony with a quietness which served him very well, “I am sorry you have so little confidence in me!”
Violet stood still a moment, a trifle pale in face, and very erect. Then she made a little gesture, and her lips trembled.
“Tony,” she said simply, “you will forgive me that, though I scarcely deserve it. If I could have meant it would I have done – what I did a little while ago?”
Tony caught her hands, and would have drawn her to him, but the girl shook off his grasp and slipped away, while the man stood still until the door closed behind her, and then shook his head.
“Angry yet!” he said. “If one could only understand her – but it’s quite beyond me, and I’ve no inclination for further worries of any kind just now.”
He turned towards the cupboard again, stopped a moment, and then, with a little impatient gesture, went out of the room. He did not see Violet again that night, and went to bed early, though it was long before he slept. It was early morning when he was awakened by the sound of a door being opened suddenly and a hasty running up and down. In a few minutes there were voices beneath him in the hall, while he huddled on his clothes; and going out he stood a moment, irresolute, in the corridor. A man who seemed to tread in a curious fashion was coming down the stairs, and passed apparently without noticing him. Then Tony gasped as the Darsley doctor he had sent for touched his arm, for he could see the man’s face dimly in the faint gray light.
“Yes,” said the doctor quietly, answering the unspoken question. “I never expected it would come so suddenly, or I would have sent for you. Godfrey Palliser passed away ten minutes ago.”
