Miss Fairfax of Virginia: A Romance of Love and Adventure Under the Palmettos

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Miss Fairfax of Virginia: A Romance of Love and Adventure Under the Palmettos Page 5

by St. George Rathborne


  CHAPTER V.

  RODERIC'S REPENTANCE.

  Roderic had indeed been up against it good and hard since leaving hiscousin at the breakfast table.

  He had entered upon his duties of the day with a vim, desirous ofclosing his accounts so that he might get away on the next morning, ifCleo and her captain were willing.

  During the morning he was haunted by certain facts which bore heavilyupon the relations existing between present conditions and those thatprevailed two years back.

  The girl from Porto Rico occupied a prime place in all thesereflections.

  Every word that had been spoken by her on the preceding night cameagain before his mental vision, and underwent a revised scrutiny.

  New solutions sprang up, for he was able to better understand certainthings that were uttered.

  Still there was much to puzzle him.

  How came she to know of Cleo, his cousin--true, in times past, whenparadise seemed opening to his feet--ah, what a fool's dream he hadindulged in--he must have frequently spoken of his cousin, for she wasoften in his mind; but that would not account for her pertinent remarksconcerning Cleo's attachment for him.

  Was it jealousy prompted this?

  Roderic flushed with pleasure at the very thought of such a thing,since the green-eyed monster can never lodge in a human heart unlessthere still remains love to stir the depths.

  Then, somehow, he felt a strange shudder pass through his whole frame.

  Would it bring trouble of any kind to this loyal cousin, whose welfarewas certainly as dear to him as that of a sister?

  He knew much of these southern women--their virtues and frailties--andrealized what a serious thing it meant to be passionately loved by oneof them, and how ill they brooked rivalry.

  The love Georgia had given him was so entirely different from the pure,unselfish devotion of which Cleo was capable--he knew this as wellas any one, and yet with his eyes open he had chosen the rush of thehurricane to the calm, steady current of never changing regard.

  Love is a little god who will have his way despite reason andphilosophy.

  Once poor mortal falls under his sway and farewell to discernment--fromthat time on Cupid sits in the balance, and weighs things to suit hisown capricious nature.

  Thus our good Roderic found himself worried with a variety of newquestions, such as it had not occurred to him before could ever come upin connection with his affairs.

  They cropped up before him in his business and he found it utterlyimpossible to get rid of them. What was on the heart must have a placein the mind in spite of stern endeavors to banish his own privateaffairs from the front.

  Thus the day wore on.

  Things worked fairly well.

  He sent some letters, and toward the close of the afternoon sometelegrams in cipher intended for those connected with the government atWashington in whose special line he was working.

  Finally he pronounced his work done.

  Unless some late orders, which he did not look for, turned up tointercept him, he was free to shake the dust of old Erin from his shoeson the morrow.

  He anticipated the voyage to the West Indies with considerablepleasure, for, as the veil of the future can not be raised by mortalhands, how was he to know what strange happenings might occur beforethe anchor was lifted, to change his relations to the owner of theyacht?

  About sundown he visited a store on Lower Sackville street where he hadbeen receiving his mail.

  There was a message awaiting him.

  It came from Darby.

  How that remarkable man had managed to mail the letter was a puzzle toRoderic, but no doubt he had prepared the envelope with a stamp andfound some means of getting it posted by bribing a sailor.

  Darby could accomplish anything under heaven when he made up his mind.

  The note was brief and epigrammatic, just as Darby's speech had alwaysbeen. Time was worth money to him, and he used very few words.

  "They got me as per agreement. We are on the way to Havre. Will touchat coast of Cornwall for private reasons of captain. Mail this there ifpossible. The French m'amselle aboard. Charming young woman. Think Ishall be pleasantly entertained, as she has a voice like a bird. Do notpity me, comrade. I may go all the way to Monte Carlo. Who could refusesuch good fortune? More anon."

  That was all.

  Roderic laughed when he read it.

  "What a sly dog that Darby is--outwardly an iceberg, a glacier, he yetpossesses the capacity for adoring lovely woman. Perhaps he may yet bewrecked upon the same reefs that have been the destruction of so many.Alas! poor Yorick. But I am willing to wager that at least he extractssome fun out of this game before he gives up the ghost."

  And now, dinner!

  The thought was delightful, since his appetite had become clamorous,and besides there was great pleasure in the anticipation of some hoursin the society of his cousin. Cleo could chat so entertainingly of manythings he had seen, for both were great travelers.

  She had visited the frequented thoroughfares of ordinary travel.Besides, she had gone from Europe to India via the overland Afghanistanand Khyber Pass route, had looked upon the celebrated Vale of Cashmere,wandered in Cathay, and was at home in Japan.

  It can be readily understood how much satisfaction Roderic found inchatting with her on these subjects, for the fever of explorationwas growing upon him all the while--he yearned to delve amid thewild places of earth seldom or never gazed upon by the eyes ofcivilization--he had already ridden on elephants in Siam, mounted thePeruvian Andes on a llama, explored the Himalayas with adventurousofficers, their only vehicle being drawn by yaks; and once Roderic hadscoured the desolate Kirghiz steppes on a tarantas drawn by shufflingcamels.

  Secretly he aspired to some day make his way to the Forbidden City ofTibet, where the foot of a white man has never yet trodden, and whosegorgeous wonders yet remain sealed books to the world--a city which thebold traveler Harry Savage Landor recently endeavored to reach but wasforced to abandon the task as impossible.

  At present of course these things were hung up in abeyance, since hisbeloved country was at war with Spain, and called upon her patrioticsons to overwhelm the enemy, both in the field and under the guise ofdiplomacy.

  The pursuit of his business had taken him far out from the central partof the city and the river Liffey.

  From Donnybrook he had crossed to the region of Rathmines, where in aninterview with one whose word carried great weight among the Fenianbrotherhood, he learned that the mission of the Spanish schemers hadfailed.

  This was a matter of great importance to those faithful statesmen atWashington who labored to prevent any combination of European Powersagainst Young America--it meant that the great coalition would pullthrough and that poor Spain must take her drubbing.

  He had mounted to the upper deck of a tramcar and was on the way backto the city, surveying with considerable interest the names of the manyvillas, places and terraces, for every householder apparently desiredto mark his residence by some appropriate designation.

  From this state of beatitude, superinduced by the clear consciousnessof a day's work well done and the soothing effect of a good pipe,Roderic was without the least warning precipitated into a condition oftremendous excitement.

  He had just noted the old name on a rough stone gate post "LucknowBungalow," and was wondering if some gallant retired officer who hadseen exciting days with Havelock, or later with gallant Roberts, mightlive in cozy retirement here, surrounded by objects brought from thefar distant realm of Her Majesty the Empress of India, when somemagnetism seemed to draw his gaze toward the romantic house set back alittle from the road.

  Just at the same instant some one leaned out of an open window as ifto close a shutter, some one whose personality acted upon Roderic verymuch as might a shock of electricity.

  Of course it was the girl from Porto Rico.

  That she saw him and recognized him Roderic realized instantly.

  It was another freak of F
ate.

  When the three sisters who weave our destinies with distaff and loom,conspire against a poor mortal, there is little use trying to dodge thesnare, since the loop falls over one's shoulders on the most unexpectedoccasions, and usually without warning.

  Roderic yielded, rescue or no rescue, at once.

  He immediately arose from his place and made down the winding stairsat the end of the car. The vehicle had been progressing meanwhile asrapidly as two sturdy Irish horses could draw it along the rails, andby the time the gentleman from across the Atlantic reached _terrafirma_ they were half a block away from the bungalow and its stoneposts.

  Roderic had not developed any plan of action--what he did was fromsheer impulse.

  The sight of her face had spurred him on--nor might this be setdown as the only instance where a woman's lovely countenance causedunpremeditated action on the part of a usually conservative and wellbalanced man.

  When he reached the distinguishing stone pillars upon which he read thename of the villa, Roderic boldly turned in.

  Prudence might have dictated another course, for there was reason tobelieve, as both Darby and himself had discovered, that the old PortoRican general, Georgia's uncle in fact, was allied with those who hadendeavored to work the grand scheme.

  Therefore, he would not be apt to look upon any Yankee, andparticularly Roderic Owen, with favor.

  General Porfidio to the contrary, the American strode past the sentinelposts, up the box bordered walk and directly to the front door.

  This was his nature, bold to a fault, ready to walk directly up to thecannon's mouth if duty but half demanded it.

  It was the Irish element in his blood, for where that strain goesthroughout the peoples of the wide world, it carries with it devotionand gallantry.

  Before he could lay a hand upon the knocker, that represented a bronzeHindoo god, the door softly opened.

  A young girl stood there.

  As he looked at her, framed in the opening, with the light of thesetting sun falling upon her wondrous face, Roderic held his verybreath, for he was again under the spell of her dusky eyes, that everwove a web of enchantment about him.

  Thus they stood, these two who had parted some years before--stood andstared and said not a single word for more than a full minute.

  What they lived over in those sixty seconds of time God only knows.

  Perhaps there came up before them a vision of Paradise Lost--of sweetscented flowers, flashing fountains, caroling birds--of a West Indiangarden where the God of Love reigned, where the soft tinkle of magicmandolin accompanied songs of hottest devotion, where eyes looked intoeyes and drank to the fill of heaven's nectar, where vows of constancywere fervently breathed and returned. Alas! how many times these samemaddening memories arise to haunt broken hearts, for human nature isweak, and prone to wander afar after strange idols.

  Roderic recovered his voice, and while he still kept his eyes on herglowing face he said, quietly:

  "You expected me--you knew I would come?"

  "I believed you would when I saw you look this way," she admitted; andthen added: "but I do not know why you are here, Senor Roderic."

  "Perhaps to thank you."

  "For what?" confused.

  "Your garb deceived me last night, but I knew the voice which you couldnot wholly disguise. I wish to tell you how--"

  "Stop. I do not desire to hear your gratitude. It was a duty with me.By chance I learned of the miserable plot. I could not bear to even seean enemy so badly used, much less one whom I once delighted to call--myfriend."

  "Once--are we then no longer such?"

  "Senor, your welfare will always be regarded with interest by me,"coldly.

  "You have condemned me unheard," with a gesture of despair.

  "Not I, senor, but yourself. The choice lay before you, and you decidedto flee from San Juan--from Elysium. You were unjust--for once in yourlife. You alone, senor, condemned, not I."

  "But--was there no reason--I beg of you, I implore, an answer?"

  "Senor, this is a house where danger lurks for you--a house whereplots are nightly considered against your people. It would be betterfor you to go away lest some of these hot headed Spanish sympathizersset eyes on you."

  "Let them go to the devil--what care I for all the Spaniards inChristendom. I shall stay here just as long as I like--as long as youallow me."

  "Ah! senor, but you did not always exhibit that same spirit--there was_one_ Spaniard you feared worse than Satan does holy water."

  The spirit of coquetry ever lives in woman, and this girl could notresist giving poor Owen a little thrust even while her heart waswonderfully stirred by his presence.

  "Yes, Julio, the handsome bolero dancer, who had once been a famoustoreador in Spain. As I hope for salvation I believe you favored hisadvances--you laughed at me when a denial was what I asked. Wordsfollowed, for my part in which may Heaven forgive me, and we parted inhot anger, we two who had been all in all to each other. Georgia, willyou answer that question _now_?" he asked, holding her eyes enthralledby his eager gaze.

  She did not speak, only put out her hand and plucked him by the sleeve.

  It was only a gentle pull, but to Roderic Owen the power of a giantsteam engine could not exert greater force.

  She meant that he should enter that East Indian bower--she would answerhis passionate question--the doubts and fears that had haunted him lo,these many moons were on the eve of being forever put to rest.

  Thus he followed her through the doorway and presently foundhimself in a little parlor where walls and mantles were almostcovered with hundreds of strange mementoes of the land of Buddha andVishnu--grinning idols, miniature elephants, tiger skins, queer swordsand knives, and wonderful pieces of colored work fashioned by thecunning handicraft of those natives of Bengal and Ceylon.

  Upon the floor were strewn very costly rugs from Dagestan and Persia.

  There was an air of romance hovering about the apartment--even thepeculiar Oriental odor that was so pronounced, seemed to be associatedwith tender scenes.

  Roderic felt it, and a strange eagerness took possession of his heart.

  Was such happiness as he had never allowed himself to dream could dawnupon him again about to become his guest?

  Having led him into this apartment, the girl drew back the Bagdadcurtains in order that more light from the westerly sun might enter,after which she advanced slowly toward him.

  Her head was lowered, so that he knew not whether those wonderful orbswere filled with love or contempt, and the uncertainty alarmed him.

  "You have surely not brought me in here to upbraid, Georgia--I cannotbelieve that. It would have been enough had you desired me to go, tohave told me so outside, and while ready to ask forgiveness on myknees, if you assured me I was quite in the wrong, I would have turnedaway without one reproach, deserving all. I asked you the questionthat has burned itself upon my brain ever since that hour when I flungmyself out of your presence so madly, and vowed never again to believein a woman's love. Was dashing Julio anything to you _then_--is he_now_?"

  Then she threw back her proud head and looked him in the face--he wasanswered even before she spoke a word.

  "One finger of your hand, Roderic Owen, yes, even its tip was of morevalue to me in those days than a dozen bolero dancers with theirgraceful movements and threadbare love phrases. Julio sued in vain--Ilaughed him to scorn--I have not seen him from the hour you fled."

  Then a glad cry burst from his lips--he opened his arms and wouldhave seized upon her, believing that she had forgiven--that the oldconditions could be thus easily revived, since the barrier that hadseparated them was swept aside.

  He had lowered his pride--he had humbly cried "_peccavi_--I havesinned," and it was reasonable to believe that if she still cherishedthe love she once bore him, this girl of the Antilles would fall intohis embrace to forgive and be forgiven.

  But instead she stepped back, eluding his grasp, and while panting withemotion, said r
esolutely:

  "Stand back, Senor Roderic--touch me not I command you!"

 

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