Soldiers of Fortune

by Richard Harding Davis

  IV

  The work which had called Clay to the mines kept him there for sometime, and it was not until the third day after the arrival of theLanghams that he returned again to the Palms. On the afternoon when heclimbed the hill to the bungalow he found the Langhams as he had leftthem, with the difference that King now occupied a place in the familycircle. Clay was made so welcome, and especially so by King, that hefelt rather ashamed of his sentiments toward him, and considered histhree days of absence to be well repaid by the heartiness of theirgreeting.

  "For myself," said Mr. Langham, "I don't believe you had anything to doat the mines at all. I think you went away just to show us hownecessary you are. But if you want me to make a good report of ourresident director on my return, you had better devote yourself less tothe mines while you are here and more to us." Clay said he was glad tofind that his duties were to be of so pleasant a nature, and asked themwhat they had seen and what they had done.

  They told him they had been nowhere, but had waited for his return inorder that he might act as their guide.

  "Then you should see the city at once," said Clay, "and I will have thevolante brought to the door, and we can all go in this afternoon.There is room for the four of you inside, and I can sit on the box-seatwith the driver."

  "No," said King, "let Hope or me sit on the box-seat. Then we canpractise our Spanish on the driver."

  "Not very well," Clay replied, "for the driver sits on the first horse,like a postilion. It's a sort of tandem without reins. Haven't youseen it yet? We consider the volante our proudest exhibit." So Clayordered the volante to be brought out, and placed them facing eachother in the open carriage, while he climbed to the box-seat, fromwhich position of vantage he pointed out and explained the objects ofinterest they passed, after the manner of a professional guide. It wasa warm, beautiful afternoon, and the clear mists of the atmosphereintensified the rich blue of the sky, and the brilliant colors of thehouses, and the different shades of green of the trees and bushes thatlined the highroad to the capital.

  "To the right, as we descend," said Clay, speaking over his shoulder,"you see a tin house. It is the home of the resident director of theOlancho Mining Company (Limited), and of his able lieutenants, Mr.Theodore Langham and Mr. MacWilliams. The building on the extreme leftis the round-house, in which Mr. MacWilliams stores his threelocomotive engines, and in the far middle-distance is Mr. MacWilliamshimself in the act of repairing a water-tank. He is the one in a suitof blue overalls, and as his language at such times is free, we willdrive rapidly on and not embarrass him. Besides," added the engineer,with the happy laugh of a boy who had been treated to a holiday, "I amsure that I am not setting him the example of fixity to duty which heshould expect from his chief."

  They passed between high hedges of Spanish bayonet, and came to mudcabins thatched with palm-leaves, and alive with naked, littlebrown-bodied children, who laughed and cheered to them as they passed.

  "It's a very beautiful country for the pueblo," was Clay's comment."Different parts of the same tree furnish them with food, shelter, andclothing, and the sun gives them fuel, and the Government changes sooften that they can always dodge the tax-collector."

  From the mud cabins they came to more substantial one-story houses ofadobe, with the walls painted in two distinct colors, blue, pink, oryellow, with red-tiled roofs, and the names with which they had beenchristened in bold black letters above the entrances. Then thecarriage rattled over paved streets, and they drove between houses oftwo stories painted more decorously in pink and light blue, withwide-open windows, guarded by heavy bars of finely wrought iron andornamented with scrollwork in stucco. The principal streets were givenup to stores and cafes, all wide open to the pavement and protectedfrom the sun by brilliantly striped awnings, and gay with the nationalcolors of Olancho in flags and streamers. In front of them satofficers in uniform, and the dark-skinned dandies of Valencia, in whiteduck suits and Panama hats, toying with tortoise shell canes, whichcould be converted, if the occasion demanded, into blades of Toledosteel. In the streets were priests and bare-legged mule drivers, andragged ranchmen with red-caped cloaks hanging to their sandals, andnegro women, with bare shoulders and long trains, vending lotterytickets and rolling huge cigars between their lips. It was an oldstory to Clay and King, but none of the others had seen aSpanish-American city before; they were familiar with the Far East andthe Mediterranean, but not with the fierce, hot tropics of their sistercontinent, and so their eyes were wide open, and they kept callingcontinually to one another to notice some new place or figure.

  They in their turn did not escape from notice or comment. The twosisters would have been conspicuous anywhere--in a queen's drawing-roomor on an Indian reservation. Theirs was a type that the caballeros andsenoritas did not know. With them dark hair was always associated withdark complexions, the rich duskiness of which was always vulgarized bya coat of powder, and this fair blending of pink and white skin undermasses of black hair was strangely new, so that each of the few womenwho were to be met on the street turned to look after the carriage,while the American women admired their mantillas, and felt that thestraw sailor-hats they wore had become heavy and unfeminine.

  Clay was very happy in picking out what was most characteristic andpicturesque, and every street into which he directed the driver to takethem seemed to possess some building or monument that was of peculiarinterest. They did not know that he had mapped out this ride manytimes before, and was taking them over a route which he had alreadytravelled with them in imagination. King knew what the capital would belike before he entered it, from his experience of other South Americancities, but he acted as though it were all new to him, and allowed Clayto explain, and to give the reason for those features of the place thatwere unusual and characteristic. Clay noticed this and appealed to himfrom time to time, when he was in doubt; but the other only smiled backand shook his head, as much as to say, "This is your city; they wouldrather hear about it from you."

  Clay took them to the principal shops, where the two girls heldwhispered consultations over lace mantillas, which they had at oncedetermined to adopt, and bought the gorgeous paper fans, covered withbrilliant pictures of bull-fighters in suits of silver tinsel; and fromthese open stores he led them to a dingy little shop, where there wasold silver and precious hand-painted fans of mother-of-pearl that hadbeen pawned by families who had risked and lost all in some revolution;and then to another shop, where two old maiden ladies made aparticularly good guava; and to tobacconists, where the men bought afew of the native cigars, which, as they were a monopoly of theGovernment, were as bad as Government monopolies always are.

  Clay felt a sudden fondness for the city, so grateful was he to it forentertaining her as it did, and for putting its best front forward forher delectation. He wanted to thank some one for building the quaintold convent, with its yellow walls washed to an orange tint, and blackin spots with dampness; and for the fountain covered with green mossthat stood before its gate, and around which were gathered the girlsand women of the neighborhood with red water-jars on their shoulders,and little donkeys buried under stacks of yellow sugar-cane, and thenegro drivers of the city's green water-carts, and the blue wagons thatcarried the manufactured ice. Toward five o'clock they decided tospend the rest of the day in the city, and to telephone for the twoboys to join them at La Venus, the great restaurant on the plaza, whereClay had invited them to dine.

  He suggested that they should fill out the time meanwhile by a call onthe President, and after a search for cards in various pocketbooks,they drove to the Government palace, which stood in an open square inthe heart of the city.

  As they arrived the President and his wife were leaving for theirafternoon drive on the Alameda, the fashionable parade-ground of thecity, and the state carriage and a squad of cavalry appeared from theside of the palace as the visitors drove up to the entrance. But atthe sight of Clay, General Alvarez and his wife retreated to the houseagain and made them w
elcome. The President led the men into hisreception-room and entertained them with champagne and cigarettes, notmanufactured by his Government; and his wife, after first conductingthe girls through the state drawing-room, where the late sunlight shonegloomily on strange old portraits of assassinated presidents andvictorious generals, and garish yellow silk furniture, brought them toher own apartments, and gave them tea after a civilized fashion, andshowed them how glad she was to see some one of her own world again.

  During their short visit Madame Alvarez talked a greater part of thetime herself, addressing what she said to Miss Langham, but looking atHope. It was unusual for Hope to be singled out in this way when hersister was present, and both the sisters noticed it and spoke of itafterwards. They thought Madame Alvarez very beautiful anddistinguished-looking, and she impressed them, even after that shortknowledge of her, as a woman of great force of character.

  "She was very well dressed for a Spanish woman," was Miss Langham'scomment, later in the afternoon. "But everything she had on was just ayear behind the fashions, or twelve steamer days behind, as Mr.MacWilliams puts it."

  "She reminded me," said Hope, "of a black panther I saw once in acircus."

  "Dear me!" exclaimed the sister, "I don't see that at all. Why?"

  Hope said she did not know why; she was not given to analyzing herimpressions or offering reasons for them. "Because the panther lookedso unhappy," she explained, doubtfully, "and restless; and he keptpacing up and down all the time, and hitting his head against the barsas he walked as though he liked the pain. Madame Alvarez seemed to meto be just like that--as though she were shut up somewhere and wantedto be free."

  When Madame Alvarez and the two sisters had joined the men, they allwalked together to the terrace, and the visitors waited until thePresident and his wife should take their departure. Hope noticed, inadvance of the escort of native cavalry, an auburn-haired, fair-skinnedyoung man who was sitting an English saddle.

  The officer's eyes were blue and frank and attractive-looking, even asthey then were fixed ahead of him with a military lack of expression;but he came to life very suddenly when the President called to him, andprodded his horse up to the steps and dismounted. He was introduced byAlvarez as "Captain Stuart of my household troops, late of the GordonHighlanders. Captain Stuart," said the President, laying his handaffectionately on the younger man's epaulette, "takes care of my lifeand the safety of my home and family. He could have the command of thearmy if he wished; but no, he is fond of us, and he tells me we are inmore need of protection from our friends at home than from our enemieson the frontier. Perhaps he knows best. I trust him, Mr. Langham,"added the President, solemnly, "as I trust no other man in all thiscountry."

  "I am very glad to meet Captain Stuart, I am sure," said Mr. Langham,smiling, and appreciating how the shyness of the Englishman must besuffering under the praises of the Spaniard. And Stuart was indeed soembarrassed that he flushed under his tan, and assured Clay, whileshaking hands with them all, that he was delighted to make hisacquaintance; at which the others laughed, and Stuart came to himselfsufficiently to laugh with them, and to accept Clay's invitation todine with them later.

  They found the two boys waiting in the cafe of the restaurant wherethey had arranged to meet, and they ascended the steps together to thetable on the balcony that Clay had reserved for them.

  The young engineer appeared at his best as host. The responsibility ofseeing that a half-dozen others were amused and content sat well uponhim; and as course followed course, and the wines changed, and thecandles left the rest of the room in darkness and showed only the tableand the faces around it, they all became rapidly more merry and theconversation intimately familiar.

  Clay knew the kind of table-talk to which the Langhams were accustomed,and used the material around his table in such a way that the talkthere was vastly different. From King he drew forth tales of theburied cities he had first explored, and then robbed of their ugliestidols. He urged MacWilliams to tell carefully edited stories of lifealong the Chagres before the Scandal came, and of the fastnesses of theAndes; and even Stuart grew braver and remembered "something of thesame sort" he had seen at Fort Nilt, in Upper Burma.

  "Of course," was Clay's comment at the conclusion of one of thesenarratives, "being an Englishman, Stuart left out the point of thestory, which was that he blew in the gates of the fort with a charge ofdynamite. He got a D. S. O. for doing it."

  "Being an Englishman," said Hope, smiling encouragingly on theconscious Stuart, "he naturally would leave that out."

  Mr. Langham and his daughters formed an eager audience. They had neverbefore met at one table three men who had known such experiences, andwho spoke of them as though they must be as familiar in the lives ofthe others as in their own--men who spoiled in the telling stories thatwould have furnished incidents for melodramas, and who impressed theirhearers more with what they left unsaid, and what was only suggested,than what in their view was the most important point.

  The dinner came to an end at last, and Mr. Langham proposed that theyshould go down and walk with the people in the plaza; but his twodaughters preferred to remain as spectators on the balcony, and Clayand Stuart stayed with them.

  "At last!" sighed Clay, under his breath, seating himself at MissLangham's side as she sat leaning forward with her arms upon therailing and looking down into the plaza below. She made no sign atfirst that she had heard him, but as the voices of Stuart and Hope rosefrom the other end of the balcony she turned her head and asked, "Whyat last?"

  "Oh, you couldn't understand," laughed Clay. "You have not beenlooking forward to just one thing and then had it come true. It is theonly thing that ever did come true to me, and I thought it never would."

  "You don't try to make me understand," said the girl, smiling, butwithout turning her eyes from the moving spectacle below her. Clayconsidered her challenge silently. He did not know just how much itmight mean from her, and the smile robbed it of all serious intent; sohe, too, turned and looked down into the great square below them,content, now that she was alone with him, to take his time.

  At one end of the plaza the President's band was playing native waltzesthat came throbbing through the trees and beating softly above therustling skirts and clinking spurs of the senoritas and officers,sweeping by in two opposite circles around the edges of the tessellatedpavements. Above the palms around the square arose the dim, whitefacade of the cathedral, with the bronze statue of Anduella, theliberator of Olancho, who answered with his upraised arm and cocked hatthe cheers of an imaginary populace. Clay's had been an unobtrusivepart in the evening's entertainment, but he saw that the others hadbeen pleased, and felt a certain satisfaction in thinking that Kinghimself could not have planned and carried out a dinner more admirablein every way. He was gratified that they should know him to be notaltogether a barbarian. But what he best liked to remember was thatwhenever he had spoken she had listened, even when her eyes were turnedaway and she was pretending to listen to some one else. He tormentedhimself by wondering whether this was because he interested her only asa new and strange character, or whether she felt in some way howeagerly he was seeking her approbation. For the first time in his lifehe found himself considering what he was about to say, and he suited itfor her possible liking. It was at least some satisfaction that shehad, if only for the time being, singled him out as of especialinterest, and he assured himself that the fault would be his if herinterest failed. He no longer looked on himself as an outsider.

  Stuart's voice arose from the farther end of the balcony, where thewhite figure of Hope showed dimly in the darkness.

  "They are talking about you over there," said Miss Langham, turningtoward him.

  "Well, I don't mind," answered Clay, "as long as they talk aboutme--over there."

  Miss Langham shook her head. "You are very frank and audacious," shereplied, doubtfully, "but it is rather pleasant as a change."

  "I don't call that audacious, to say I do
n't want to be interruptedwhen I am talking to you. Aren't the men you meet generallyaudacious?" he asked. "I can see why not--though," he continued, "youawe them."

  "I can't think that's a nice way to affect people," protested MissLangham, after a pause. "I don't awe you, do I?"

  "Oh, you affect me in many different ways," returned Clay, cheerfully."Sometimes I am very much afraid of you, and then again my feelings areonly those of unlimited admiration."

  "There, again, what did I tell you?" said Miss Langham.

  "Well, I can't help doing that," said Clay. "That is one of the fewprivileges that is left to a man in my position--it doesn't matter whatI say. That is the advantage of being of no account and hopelesslydetrimental. The eligible men of the world, you see, have to be sovery careful. A Prime Minister, for instance, can't talk as he wishes,and call names if he wants to, or write letters, even. Whatever hesays is so important, because he says it, that he must be verydiscreet. I am so unimportant that no one minds what I say, and so Isay it. It's the only comfort I have."

  "Are you in the habit of going around the world saying whatever youchoose to every woman you happen to--to--" Miss Langham hesitated.

  "To admire very much," suggested Clay.

  "To meet," corrected Miss Langham. "Because, if you are, it is a verydangerous and selfish practice, and I think your theory ofnon-responsibility is a very wicked one."

  "Well, I wouldn't say it to a child," mused Clay, "but to one who musthave heard it before--"

  "And who, you think, would like to hear it again, perhaps," interruptedMiss Langham.

  "No, not at all," said Clay. "I don't say it to give her pleasure, butbecause it gives me pleasure to say what I think."

  "If we are to continue good friends, Mr. Clay," said Miss Langham, indecisive tones, "we must keep our relationship on more of a social andless of a personal basis. It was all very well that first night I metyou," she went on, in a kindly tone.

  "You rushed in then and by a sort of tour de force made me think agreat deal about myself and also about you. Your stories of cherishedphotographs and distant devotion and all that were very interesting;but now we are to be together a great deal, and if we are to talk aboutourselves all the time, I for one shall grow very tired of it. As amatter of fact you don't know what your feelings are concerning me, anduntil you do we will talk less about them and more about the things youare certain of. When are you going to take us to the mines, forinstance, and who was Anduella, the Liberator of Olancho, on thatpedestal over there? Now, isn't that much more instructive?"

  Clay smiled grimly and made no answer, but sat with knitted browslooking out across the trees of the plaza. His face was so serious andhe was apparently giving such earnest consideration to what she hadsaid that Miss Langham felt an uneasy sense of remorse. And, moreover,the young man's profile, as he sat looking away from her, was veryfine, and the head on his broad shoulders was as well-modelled as thehead of an Athenian statue.

  Miss Langham was not insensible to beauty of any sort, and she regardedthe profile with perplexity and with a softening spirit.

  "You understand," she said, gently, being quite certain that she didnot understand this new order of young man herself. "You are notoffended with me?" she asked.

  Clay turned and frowned, and then smiled in a puzzled way and stretchedout his hand toward the equestrian statue in the plaza.

  "Andulla or Anduella, the Treaty-Maker, as they call him, was born in1700," he said; "he was a most picturesque sort of a chap, and freedthis country from the yoke of Spain. One of the stories they tell ofhim gives you a good idea of his character." And so, without anychange of expression or reference to what had just passed between them,Clay continued through the remainder of their stay on the balcony todiscourse in humorous, graphic phrases on the history of Olancho, itsheroes, and its revolutions, the buccaneers and pirates of the olddays, and the concession-hunters and filibusters of the present. Itwas some time before Miss Langham was able to give him her fullattention, for she was considering whether he could be so foolish as tohave taken offence at what she said, and whether he would speak of itagain, and in wondering whether a personal basis for conversation wasnot, after all, more entertaining than anecdotes of the victories andheroism of dead and buried Spaniards.

  "That Captain Stuart," said Hope to her sister, as they drove hometogether through the moonlight, "I like him very much. He seems tohave such a simple idea of what is right and good. It is like a childtalking. Why, I am really much older than he is in everything butyears--why is that?"

  "I suppose it's because we always talk before you as though you were agrown-up person," said her sister. "But I agree with you about CaptainStuart; only, why is he down here? If he is a gentleman, why is he notin his own army? Was he forced to leave it?"

  "Oh, he seems to have a very good position here," said Mr. Langham."In England, at his age, he would be only a second-lieutenant. Don'tyou remember what the President said, that he would trust him with thecommand of his army? That's certainly a responsible position, and itshows great confidence in him."

  "Not so great, it seems to me," said King, carelessly, "as he isshowing him in making him the guardian of his hearth and home. Did youhear what he said to-day? 'He guards my home and my family.' I don'tthink a man's home and family are among the things he can afford toleave to the protection of stray English subalterns. From all I hear,it would be better if President Alvarez did less plotting and protectedhis own house himself."

  "The young man did not strike me as the sort of person," said Mr.Langham, warmly, "who would be likely to break his word to the man whois feeding him and sheltering him, and whose uniform he wears. I don'tthink the President's home is in any danger from within. MadameAlvarez--"

  Clay turned suddenly in his place on the box-seat of the carriage,where he had been sitting, a silent, misty statue in the moonlight, andpeered down on those in the carriage below him.

  "Madame Alvarez needs no protection, as you were about to say, Mr.Langham," he interrupted, quickly. "Those who know her could saynothing against her, and those who do not know her would not so farforget themselves as to dare to do it. Have you noticed the effect ofthe moonlight on the walls of the convent?" he continued, gently. "Itmakes them quite white."

  "No," exclaimed Mr. Langham and King, hurriedly, as they both turnedand gazed with absorbing interest at the convent on the hills abovethem.

  Before the sisters went to sleep that night Hope came to the door ofher sister's room and watched Alice admiringly as she sat before themirror brushing out her hair.

  "I think it's going to be fine down here; don't you, Alice?" she asked."Everything is so different from what it is at home, and so beautiful,and I like the men we've met. Isn't that Mr. MacWilliams funny--and heis so tough. And Captain Stuart--it is a pity he's shy. The onlything he seems to be able to talk about is Mr. Clay. He worships Mr.Clay!"

  "Yes," assented her sister, "I noticed on the balcony that you seemedto have found some way to make him speak."

  "Well, that was it. He likes to talk about Mr. Clay, and I wanted tolisten. Oh! he is a fine man. He has done more exciting things--"

  "Who? Captain Stuart?"

  "No--Mr. Clay. He's been in three real wars and about a dozen littleones, and he's built thousands of miles of railroads, I don't know howmany thousands, but Captain Stuart knows; and he built the highestbridge in Peru. It swings in the air across a chasm, and it rocks whenthe wind blows. And the German Emperor made him a Baron."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know. I couldn't understand. It was something about plansfor fortifications. He, Mr. Clay, put up a fort in the harbor of RioJaneiro during a revolution, and the officers on a German man-of-warsaw it and copied the plans, and the Germans built one just like it,only larger, on the Baltic, and when the Emperor found out whose designit was, he sent Mr. Clay the order of something-or-other, and made hima Baron."

  "Really," exclaimed the
elder sister, "isn't he afraid that some onewill marry him for his title?"

  "Oh, well, you can laugh, but I think it's pretty fine, and so doesTed," added Hope, with the air of one who propounds a final argument.

  "Oh, I beg your pardon," laughed Alice. "If Ted approves we must allgo down and worship."

  "And father, too," continued Hope. "He said he thought Mr. Clay wasone of the most remarkable men for his years that he had ever met."

  Miss Langham's eyes were hidden by the masses of her black hair thatshe had shaken over her face, and she said nothing.

  "And I liked the way he shut Reggie King up too," continued Hope,stoutly, "when he and father were talking that way about MadameAlvarez."

  "Yes, upon my word," exclaimed her sister, impatiently tossing her hairback over her shoulders. "I really cannot see that Madame Alvarez isin need of any champion. I thought Mr. Clay made it very much worse byrushing in the way he did. Why should he take it upon himself tocorrect a man as old as my father?"

  "I suppose because Madame Alvarez is a friend of his," Hope answered.

  "My dear child, a beautiful woman can always find some man to take herpart," said Miss Langham. "But I've no doubt," she added, rising andkissing her sister good-night, "that he is all that your Captain Stuartthinks him; but he is not going to keep us awake any longer, is he,even if he does show such gallant interest in old ladies?"

  "Old ladies!" exclaimed Hope in amazement.

  "Why, Alice!"

  But her sister only laughed and waved her out of the room, and Hopewalked away frowning in much perplexity.