The Buccaneer Farmer - Harold Bindloss
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"The senorita's a looker," said Olsen. "I wonder which of us she fancies.
She's been round this way before."
"I'm not remarkably handsome and there are other people in the cafe,"
Kit replied. "Anyhow, I don't want to get a jealous senorita's knife
in my back."
"You're a blamed cautious fellow," Olsen rejoined in a meaning tone.
"However, you'll find me at the casino evenings if you feel you'd like a
talk, and now I'll get along."
He went off and Kit smoked another cigarette. He thought Olsen had, so to
speak, been sounding him; the fellow had certainly given him some hints.
Kit imagined he had taken a prudent line by keeping the other in the dark
about his partnership with Adam and their plans.
When he had smoked his cigarette he crossed the street to the alameda and
went up a broad walk beneath the trees. The sky had cleared, the moon was
high, and in front of the openings pools of silver light lay upon the
ground. By and by Kit saw the group he had noticed a few yards ahead.
They were moving slowly and although he walked no faster he soon came up
with them. The girl who had looked into the cafe was nearest and the
moonlight touched her face as she turned her head.
Kit gave her a half curious glance and felt some surprise, for he could
see her better now and thought her a pure-blooded Spaniard. The
_Peninsulares_ were aristocrats, the girl had a touch of dignity, and her
dress was rich. It was strange if a girl like that was willing to defy
conventions and risk an intrigue with a stranger. Yet he imagined he had
seen her smile, and she carried a little bunch of purple flowers in the
hand nearest him. He looked again and saw that she was beautiful and
moved with the grace that generally marks the _Peninsulares_ when they
are young. The path was broad and he could keep level with the group
without exciting curiosity, but he thought it curious that the fat old
woman, who ought to have guarded the others, was in front.
He resolved to go past, and just before he did so the girl gave him a
glance that he thought was half amused and half provocative. Then she
turned her head and next moment he saw a flower near his feet. He noted a
faint smell of heliotrope and knew she had dropped the flower for him.
This meant something, although it would not have much significance unless
he picked up the heliotrope. He did not, and walking past with a quicker
step, heard a soft laugh.
When he reached the presidio he sat down on the balcony that overlooked
the patio outside his room. There was nobody about and he began to muse.
It was rash to take things for granted, but he thought he had been made
the subject of three experiments. Somebody had put a gold onza in the
Indian jar; Olsen had tried to find out if he was ambitious; and the girl
in the alameda meant to learn if he could be moved by beauty. Well, they
ought to know something about him now, but they were not very clever or
they would have extended their experiments over a longer time. It looked
as if they thought him something of a fool, and this was, perhaps, an
advantage.
Kit smiled as he remembered that when Janet Bell tried to flirt with him
he had been rather humiliated and felt himself a prig. He was older now
and had not been much embarrassed in the alameda, although he nearly
picked up the flower. His curiosity was excited and he wanted to find out
the girl's object. Indeed, it was hard to see why he had left the flower
alone, but he had a vague feeling that it was unfair to use a charming
girl in a dark intrigue. Since he had known Grace Osborn, he had given
women a higher place. For her sake, he would not try to gain an advantage
against his and the president's antagonist by embarking on an adventure
with the Spanish girl.
Then he began to wonder whether he would see Grace again, but presently
got up with an impatient shrug. Grace, in all probability, had forgotten
their friendship and married Thorn. Anyhow, she was not for him and it
was futile to indulge a barren sentiment.
CHAPTER IV
THE PRESIDENT'S BALL
Breakfast was over and Alvarez, sitting at a table in the arcade, smiled
as he indicated the transformed patio. The broken pavement had been
swept, the fountain scrubbed until the marble showed white veins, and the
old brass rails of the balconies gleamed with yellow reflections where
the sunshine fell. Small palms and flowering plants in tubs stood among
the pillars, flags hung from crumbling cornices, and barefooted peons
were fastening up colored lamps.
"When the people are discontented they must be amused," the president
remarked. "In Rome, they gave them circuses and I had thought of a
bull-fight. There is a Spanish quadrilla in Cuba but I found it would
cost too much to bring the company across. Besides, I do not know if
strong excitement would be good for the citizens."
"A ball is safer," Adam agreed. "While they have the function to talk
about they'll forget to plot."
"For a week, perhaps! Well, it ought to be some help, if your agents
are prompt."
"They're hustlers and know they've got to get busy. I expect the _Rio
Negro_ back in fourteen days, and then it will be your business to rush
her cargo up. Mule transport's slow on your swamp tracks, and it's
perhaps unfortunate you didn't give my friends the concession for the
light railroad. You might have found it useful now."
Alvarez shrugged. "A railroad can be cut, and locomotives break down at
awkward times when their drivers are bribed. Then, I have granted so many
concessions that there is not much that foreigners think worth getting
left in the country. One must keep something to bargain with."
"Governing a people like yours is an expensive job. However, since they
make it expensive, they oughtn't to grumble if you tax them high."
"They do not always pay the taxes," Alvarez rejoined with a twinkle. "If
they run me out, they will probably disown their debts, and then there
will be trouble with the foreigners. Still, that is not very important,
because I shall be gone and the Americans will not let the others'
consuls use much pressure. The speculators understand the risks."
"That's so," said Adam and added meaningly: "Some of the speculators are
American."
Alvarez put his finely-shaped hand on Adam's arm. "My friend, if it is
possible, you will be paid. If not, it will be because I am dead."
"I know," said Adam. "I'm not scared to take chances and when they go
against me I don't grumble. Anyhow, time is important and if you work
this ball properly it ought to give us another week. You'll get the money
for your soldiers shortly afterwards and Mayne will land your guns."
The president's dark face softened and he smiled.
"I know whom I can trust," he said and went away.
"If it's possible for a half-breed to be an honest man, Don Hernando
meets the bill," Adam remarked. "Anyhow, he's a better president than
these folks deserve, and they'll be blamed fools if they turn him down."
He was silent for a few moments and then resumed: "I gave you a share in
my business, Kit, and now, if you are willing, I'll buy you out."
"But I'm quite satisfied; I'd much sooner stick to our agreement," Kit
said with surprise.
"Well, I guess you're rash. Your share isn't large but it would go some
way to buy an English farm. Raising Herdwick sheep is a pretty tame
occupation, but I reckon it's safer than backing Alvarez."
Kit thought hard and imagined he saw Adam's object. "Of course," he said,
"if you want to get rid of me--"
"I don't know that I'm keen. You're some help, but you came out to
forget the girl in England, and not to stay. Well, if you mean to go,
now's your time."
"The trouble is I haven't forgotten her," Kit answered quietly.
Adam's eyes twinkled. "If you go home, you may get her, and I allow she's
probably worth the effort, but you're not going to side-track me like
that. If you quit now, I can buy you out and you'll have something to
help you make another start; afterwards I mayn't be able. You needn't
hesitate about taking the money; I guess you've earned it."
"I suspected where you were leading. Still you see, I'd sooner stay. For
one thing, I hate leaving an awkward job half finished. You're beginning
to feel the job is bigger than you thought it was when you undertook it?"
"It certainly is," Adam agreed. "However, since you insist, I'll talk
plain. Alvarez has no claim on you, although he has a claim on me, and I
pay my debts. The last to fall due is going to strain my finances, but it
must be paid, a hundred cents for every dollar. All the same, the
liability is not yours. There's no reason why you shouldn't pull out
while you're safe."
Kit shook his head. "I see a reason. I don't know if it's sound, but
after all one's self-respect is worth something."
"Oh, well!" said Adam, "we won't quarrel. You're very like Peter and he's
the staunchest man I know."
He got up and when he went off, Kit, feeling somewhat moved, lighted a
cigarette and smoked thoughtfully. It looked as if Adam did not think the
president would win, but for all that meant to stand by him. Although not
fastidious about his business methods, Adam had his code and was not
afraid, when friendship demanded it, to fight for a lost cause. Moreover,
Kit meant to fight with him. Then he got up and smiled. Adam meant well,
but he was clumsy; if he had wanted to save Kit from sharing his risk, he
might have made a better plan.
When evening came Kit entered the arcade and sat down in a quiet spot to
look about. The moon was nearly full and flooded half the patio with
silver light; the rest was in shadow and rows of colored lamps twinkled
in the gloom. A band played behind the pillars, the rattle of castanets
breaking in on the tinkle of the guitars when the beat was sharply
marked. The music was seductive, unlike any Kit had heard in England, and
he thought it tinged by the melancholy the Moors had brought, long since,
from the East to Spain.
At one end of the patio, groups of young men and women moved through the
changing figures of an old Spanish dance. Their poses were strangely
graceful, and some had a touch of stateliness. This vanished when the
music changed and the well-balanced figures, raising bent arms, danced
with riotous abandon. In a minute or two the melancholy note was struck
again and the movements were marked by dignified reserve. Kit got a hint
of Southern passion and, by contrast, of the austerity that often goes
with Indian blood.
In the meantime, he noted the play of moving color, for the women wore
white and pink and yellow. Some had flowers in their dark hair and some
covered their heads with a lace mantilla. The men's clothes were varied,
for a number wore shabby uniforms, and others white linen with red silk
sashes, while a few had chosen the plain black, and wide sombrero, of the
Spanish don.
At the other end of the patio, portly senoras with powdered faces sat
among the pillars, and grave, dark-skinned citizens moved about the
pavement in talking groups. A heavily-built man with a very swarthy color
and thick lips went to and fro among them, bowing and smiling, and Kit
knew this was Galdar, the president's rival. Kit did not like the fellow
and thought his negro strain was marked. He looked sensual, cruel, and
cunning. For the most part, the president stood outside the crowd,
although now and then a group formed about him. He was tall and thin, his
face was inscrutable, and Kit thought he looked lonely and austere.
By and by an officer Kit had met told him he must dance and took him
along the arcade. The officer stopped where two girls sat under a string
of lamps, with a man in black clothes and a fat old woman behind. At
first, Kit could not see them well, but when they got up he started as he
recognized the girl who had dropped the flower. Then he tried to hide his
embarrassment as he was presented to Senorita Francisca Sarmiento. She
was handsomer than he had thought and as she made him a stately curtsey
her eyes twinkled.
Kit imagined the other girl studied him carefully and wondered whether
she knew about the flower. It was, however, his duty to ask the senorita
to dance, and after a few moments they crossed the pavement. Kit had some
misgivings, because the dance was involved and one used a number of
different steps, but the girl guided him through its intricacies and when
he took her back signed him to sit down. He obeyed, for Francisca
Sarmiento had an imperious air. Other young men came up when the music
began again, but passed on, and Kit imagined the girl had made them
understand they were to do so since one or two frowned at him.
"Well," she said, looking at him across her fan, "how do you like
this country?"
"It has many attractions," Kit replied.
"But some drawbacks?"
"The drawbacks are not very obvious now."
"Ah," she said, giving him a mocking glance, "for an Englishman, you are
polite, but it looks as if you were as cautious as I thought."
"I'm flattered that you thought about me at all." Kit rejoined.
She laughed and played with her fan. "Oh, well; we are curious about
strangers, particularly when they are friends of the president's. One
wonders why they come."
"I imagine most of us come to get money."
"In this country, one gets nothing unless one runs some risk, and you are
cautious," Francisca remarked.
Kit noted her insistence on this trait of his. He thought her remarks had
a meaning that did not appear on the surface.
"I wonder what grounds you have for thinking so," he said.
"Are they not obvious?" she answered. "Not long since you hesitated to
pick up a sprig of heliotrope."
"I durst not think the compliment was meant for me."
Francisca glanced at him with quiet amusement. "You are modest, senor; it
looks as if you had a number of virtues. For one thing, I imagine you are
honest, and honesty is not very common here." She paused and resumed in a
meaning tone: "It is a drawback, if one wants to get rich."
"I don't know that my character is worth your study," Kit replied
carelessly.
"You are of some importance, senor. Although I have admitted that you are
modest, it is strange you do not know."
"Why should I know?" Kit asked.
Francisca studied him over her ebony fan, which hid half her face and
emphasized the curious glow of her black eyes. "I do not think you are as
dull as you pretend. Have you not been experimented on recently?"
"I think I have," said Kit. "After all, a gold onza is not a great
temptation. I found another--a spray of heliotrope--harder to resist."
"But you did resist!" she replied in a quiet voice.
"Yes," said Kit, fixing his eyes on her face. "I am an adventurer like
the rest, but it is rather a shabby thing to try to gain an advantage in
a battle with a woman. Besides, as I'm not clever, I might have failed."
With a languid movement of her head Francisca looked round and Kit
imagined she saw the others were too far off to hear. Then she made him a
half mocking bow.
"We need not quarrel, senor, and I will give you a hint. Since you are
incorruptible, this town is not the place for you. Strangers from the
North sometimes get fever. And I would not like you to suffer because you
are honest, and have chosen the losing side."
"Ah," said Kit, "you think our side will lose?"
Francisca moved her fan, as if to indicate Galdar, who stood in the
moonlight near the fountain. He was smiling urbanely and a number of men
and women had gathered about him. Kit knew they were people of
importance. At the end of the patio, the president stood alone in the
advancing gloom.
"You see!" she said. "Well, I am engaged for the next dance. You have my
leave to go."
Kit left her and sat down in a quiet spot. On the whole, he thought the
president's antagonists had been foolish when they tried to use the girl;
she was, so to speak, too good, and perhaps too proud, for the part they
expected her to play. This, however, was not important; he imagined she
had meant well when she gave him a hint, although the hint was not worth
much, because Kit thought Adam saw how things were going. Then he
reflected with some amusement that he need not bother much about
deceiving the enemy, since Galdar's friends would not suspect that
Buccaneer Askew had knowingly chosen the losing side.
Presently Kit joined Adam, who sat near a lamp. His face was damp and
looked pinched.
"Let's go and get a drink," he said. "I'm thirsty; got a dose of
intermittent fever again."
Some tables behind the pillars were laid out with wine and fruit, and
Adam beckoned a mulatto waiter.
"_Tinto and siphon_. Bring some ice."
"There is no _siphon_, senor. We have sherry, vermouth, and some very
good anisado."
"You have plenty _siphon_" Adam declared. "Go and look."
The waiter went away and Adam frowned. "I can't stand for their scented
liquors; I want a long, cool drink."
After a few minutes, the waiter came back with a large glass, in
which a lump of ice floated in red wine and mineral water. Adam,
sending him away, remarked: "That's a stupid fellow. I wanted to mix
the stuff myself."
He drank thirstily and put down the glass.
"Tastes bitter; too much resin in the wine, or perhaps it's imagination."
He lifted the glass but stopped and threw the rest of the liquor on the
pavement. "Reckon I've had enough. About the meanest drink I've struck.
Give me a cigar. The taste stops in my mouth."
Kit gave him a cigar, but after a few minutes he threw it away.
"I don't feel much better and think I'll go to my room. You might come
along; the stairs are steep."
He got up awkwardly and leaned upon the table, breathing rather hard
while big drops of sweat started from his forehead. "This confounded
ague grips me tight. Don't know when I've felt so shaky. Better give me
your arm."
They started, and keeping in the shadow, reached the outside stairs
without exciting much curiosity, but Kit felt disturbed. Adam went up
slowly, stopping now and then, and stumbled across the balcony at the
top. Bright moonlight shone into the bare room, where a small lamp
burned, and Kit saw that Adam's face was wet.
"Leave me alone," he said. "You can come back by and by and see how I'm
getting on."
Kit did not want to go, but gave way when Adam insisted. He met the
president soon afterwards.
"Where is Don Adam?" the latter asked.
Kit told him and added that his uncle had seemed to get worse after
drinking some wine.
"Ah," said Alvarez thoughtfully. "Fresh lime-juice is better when one is
feverish. Did he drink anything else?"
"No," said Kit. "The waiter wanted to bring some anisado, but he insisted
on the wine."
Alvarez took him to the table where the refreshments were served and
clapped his hands. A waiter came up, but Kit said, "That is not the boy."
"Where are your companions?" the president asked.
"One is washing the glasses, senor. I do not know where the other
has gone."
Alvarez opened a door and Kit saw a man putting small _copitas_
into a pail.
"It was another fellow who brought the wine," he said, and Alvarez
beckoned the waiter.
"Call the mayor-domo."
A man dressed in plain black clothes came in, and Alvarez asked: "How
many of these fellows did you send to serve the wine?"
"Two, senor. It was enough."
"Three came. It will be your business to find the third," said the
president sternly and turned to Kit. "What was the fellow like?"
Kit described the waiter and Alvarez said to the mayor-domo, "You will be
held accountable if the man has got away. Send Doctor Martin to the
bottom of the stairs."
The mayor-domo went away and Alvarez knitted his brows.
"Galdar's friends are bold, but I had not expected this. However, Don
Adam's drinking wine may have balked them and Martin is a good doctor."
Kit asked no questions, for he could trust the president and thought
there was no time to lose. They crossed the patio and found a man waiting
in the shadow at the bottom of the steps. Alvarez said a word or two and
they went up. When they entered the room Adam glanced up from the bed.
"I see you have brought the doctor," he said with an effort.
"In this country, one takes precautions," Alvarez replied. "You look ill,
my friend."
"I'd have looked worse if I'd drunk anisado," Adam remarked. "Anyhow, you
had better light out and let Senor Martin get to work."
The doctor, who felt Adam's pulse, made a sign of agreement, and then
writing on a leaf of his pocketbook gave it to the president.
"Will you send that to my house? I need the things at once."
Alvarez moved away and Adam looked at Kit with a forced smile. "You
needn't be anxious, partner. I didn't drink all the wine; reckon they
haven't got me yet."
Then they went out and left Adam with the doctor.
CHAPTER V
OLSEN'S OFFER
For a time, Kit wandered about the arcade, talking now and then to people
he knew. The doctor had forbidden him to return to Adam's room and the
president said it was important the guests should not know that anything
unusual had happened. Although Kit watched the stairs anxiously, nobody
came down, but he saw the mayor-domo going quietly about and servants
came and went on mysterious errands. When he looked out he found the
sentries had been doubled on the terrace and one stopped when, for a few
moments, Kit left the arch, but the soldier knew him and marched on.
While it was obvious that the waiter was being looked for, Kit thought
the search had begun too late.
At length, Alvarez sent for him, and although his heart beat as he
followed the messenger he felt some relief when he saw the president.
"I have good news," the latter said. "The doctor is no longer anxious and
you may see your uncle in the morning. It looks as if Don Adam's caution
saved him."
"You mean when he refused the anisado?"
Alvarez nodded. "It is a strong-smelling liquor and one drinks a small
quantity, taking water afterwards, if one wants. Don Adam knows the
country, and after all my enemies have not much imagination. To offer him
anisado was a rather obvious trick."
"I'm thankful they failed," Kit said sternly, and clenched his fist with
sudden passion. "If they had not--"
"One understands, Don Cristoval; I have felt like that when the plotters
did not fail," Alvarez answered with grim sympathy. He was silent for a
moment or two and Kit imagined he was thinking about his murdered son.
Then he resumed: "Well, we shall have a reckoning and it will be bad for
the dogs when I send in my bill. But that must wait, and I would like you
to dance. I see Senorita Sarmiento is not engaged and she dances well."
"I doubt if Dona Francisca would care to dance with me again."
"Ah," said Alvarez, "one should not be too modest! Francisca is a
politician, but she is a woman. Perhaps you found she is not on my side?"
"I imagined she was not."
Alvarez shrugged. "Well, I do not fight with women, although they are
sometimes dangerous. Try again, my friend. Just now we are all playing at
make-believe."
Kit obeyed and found Francisca gracious. She danced with him and
afterwards allowed him to sit by her. By and by she remarked: "I have not
seen Senor Askew for some time."
"He was not very well," said Kit.
Francisca studied his face. "I hope his illness is not serious. I thought
I saw Doctor Martin."
"Fever. My uncle gets it now and then."
"I think I warned you against our fevers," Francisca replied meaningly.
"There are two or three kinds, but all are not dangerous."
"Some are?" Kit suggested.
"Yes; to foreigners. We others take precautions and are acclimatized."
"Well," said Kit in a thoughtful voice, "I have not had fever yet, but I
suppose an unacclimatized adventurer runs some risk."
Francisca played with her fan and Kit imagined she was pondering.
"A risk that leads to nothing is not worth while," she remarked. "I think
it would be prudent if you left the country while you are well."
"I should be sorry if I thought you wanted me to go," said Kit.
"That is cheap, senor. I gave you good advice."
"Oh, well," said Kit, "I really think you did. There are matters about
which we do not agree; but I believe you are too kind to let a rather
ignorant antagonist get hurt."
Franciscans eyes twinkled as she rejoined: "I like the compliment better
than the other. But I am engaged for the next dance and as you are
intelligent there is not much more to be said."
Kit went away, thinking rather hard. The girl had some part in the
intrigue against the president, and it would obviously be an advantage to
her friends if he could be persuaded to leave the country now Adam was
ill. Admitting this, he thought her warning sincere. On the whole, he
liked Francisca Sarmiento and believed she did not want him to be hurt.
If Adam did not get much better and he had to look after things, he would
certainly run some risk of a cunning attack by the president's enemies.
When the guests began to leave, Kit went to his room and after some
hours of broken sleep was told that Adam wanted him. He found Alvarez in
the room and Adam lying, with a flushed face and wet forehead, in a big
cane chair. When Kit came in Adam gave him a friendly smile and turned
to Alvarez.