by Frank Savile
CHAPTER VII
VILLA EULALIA
Aylmer looked up as Despard came into the room. A kit bag lay on thefloor half full and Aylmer's man was packing it. Despard raised hiseyebrows in surprise.
"Going?" he asked quickly. "Where?"
"Tangier," said Aylmer. "To-night, by the Forwood boat."
Despard gave a little whistle.
"And the Commission?" he objected.
"I've had very special luck there," explained Aylmer. "Sir Arthur wentdown with influenza yesterday morning. So the Commission, instead ofmeeting this week as proposed, adjourns till the end of November."
He leaned down, gave a searching glance into the bag, and closed it.
"That will do, Sillery," he said to the servant. "I'll call if I wantyou."
As the man went out Despard dropped down upon the sofa. He sat andlooked across at his companion with a glance which blended inquiry andconcern.
"I've heard only rumors, so far," he remarked.
Aylmer made a little gesture towards the bookcase, which was stillbroken but empty.
"I came back unexpectedly last night. I had been discussing a point withthe general at dinner and ran across to find a book to prove mycontention. I found Landon here, ransacking the bookcase. One volume isgone. He took me unawares and knocked me out. I didn't come to forseveral hours."
Despard made an inarticulate exclamation of anger.
"And he escaped, out of Gibraltar?"
"By the _Miramar_, so the police declare. A Spanish tramp, going downthe Moroquin coast and stopping first at Tangier."
"He's gone to kill two birds with one stone," said Despard. "And you arepursuing?"
"Naturally," said Aylmer, in a very matter-of-fact voice.
"And your leave home--Scotland--cub hunting?"
"That goes, of course. Possibly, if ten weeks is insufficient, mysecretaryship goes. Perhaps, old chap, even my commission."
Despard got up with a startled jerk.
"What's that?" he cried fiercely. "What's that?"
Aylmer's hand made a deprecative motion.
"My duty's plain, isn't it?" he asked.
"No!" retorted Despard. "If these old women of Commissioners have nomore sense than to direct you to keep important books in a simplebookcase in your quarters--"
"Oh, the book?" interrupted Aylmer, placidly. "Of course, there's thebook."
Despard halted, hesitated, and looked at his friend with curiosity.
"You mean the contents of it? You can't help them getting known?"
Aylmer nodded.
"We must recognize the fact that they are known by whoever buys them,or whoever hired Landon to steal them."
"Then why worry; why pursue, why start on this wild-goose chase?" Hepointed to the great bruise on Aylmer's forehead. "It's outrageous, withthat on you. It's probably dangerous."
For a moment Aylmer was silent. He stood looking at Despard, and hiseyes seemed to express a sort of speculative criticism.
"Landon is my cousin," he said at last, as if he put the keystone to anargumentative arch.
"What of it?"
For the second time Aylmer hesitated before he spoke.
"It seems to me," he said slowly, "that in this part of the world I amresponsible for the good name which he is smirching. He has gone toTangier--not only to save his skin. He has gone to commence a campaignof terrorization against the Van Arlens. Merely as an Aylmer I have topit my hand against his, merely to clear our name and to do my duty. Andthere is more than that. Since Landon, for moral purposes, is dead, Iconsider that morally, and very possibly legally, I am the child'sguardian. To keep my trust I have to safeguard the child from hisfather."
Despard tapped his fingers doubtfully upon the mantelpiece.
"And the Van Arlens?" he questioned.
There were tones in his voice which made Aylmer pause over hisportmanteau.
"The Van Arlens? I am, of course, going to them direct."
Despard hesitated.
"You can't work with them," he said at last. "They won't accept yourhelp."
A flicker of emotion, first of pain and then of purpose, gleamed inAylmer's eyes.
"But they may need it," he answered. He looked at Despard searchingly.
"And why not?" he went on. "What have they against me except my name?"
"You don't know what it has come to mean to them, in eight years," saidDespard, quietly.
And then a queer little silence fell between them, an interval whichseemed charged with the electricity of emotion. Despard looked atAylmer. His friend was staring in his direction, but with a meditative,impersonal gaze which seemed to glance through--not at--him. And a smilegrew faintly about his lips, though these, indeed, were pressed firmlytogether.
He straightened his shoulders, he sighed.
"Of course I start handicapped," he allowed. "But I can run a waitingrace." And then he gave an involuntary start and a quick, curious glanceat his companion. "We aren't competitors?" he asked suddenly.
The crimson surged up under the tan on Despard's forehead. He laughedharshly.
"The race was run and I was beaten, nine years ago," he said. "Therewill be no other entry, for me." He walked up to Aylmer and laid hishand upon his shoulder.
"God knows, old chap, I wish you luck. But you carry weight, there's nodenying that."
Aylmer nodded again.
"To carry weight one wants a stayer," he said. "And I can stay,Despard."
The other nodded.
"Yes," he said quietly. "You can stay. And as far as I know, the courseis clear." His voice halted and stumbled queerly. "I ran straight, too,but I was fouled."
And with a grip of Aylmer's hand he went out, to lay the balm of hopeagainst the unhealed wound fate had dealt him, nine long years before.
* * * * *
As twenty-four hours later Aylmer climbed the steps from the water'sedge to the pierhead of Tangier, a red fez was doffed from aclose-cropped skull and out of a little crowd of hotel touts a Moorsaluted with a welcoming smile.
"A pleasant surprise, Sidi," he remarked affably. "There is no huntabroad to-day."
Aylmer shook his head gravely.
"Not in thy meaning, Daoud," he answered. He moved closer to him. "ASpanish boat--the _Miramar_ came in at dawn?" he questioned.
The Moor hesitated and then turned to shout to a companion. The mananswered with a laconic affirmative.
Daoud nodded.
"Yes, Sidi. She came in. As you see, she has gone again."
"Who landed from her?"
Again Absalaam put queries to the assembled loafers. They answeredobscenely but with directness.
"A man came ashore with the captain and did not return with him," saidthe Moor. "Is this, then, an affair of importance?"
"I will give fifty dollars to him who brings me face to face with thatman," said Aylmer, quietly. "Let your fellows know this."
Absalaam frowned ferociously and then laughed, a queer, high-pitchednasal laugh.
"My fellows!" He swept his hand towards the pier loafers witheringly."Does the Sidi think that I am of this noble company of--of dogs andeaters of dirt?" He laughed again, cheerfully this time. "After all, Ihave given the Sidi every reason to believe it. But it is not so. Mywork in Tangier sends me strange companions, but I am not of them. Andthere is no need that these should debauch themselves with your fiftydollars, Sidi. I will see to this thing!"
Aylmer made a gesture of assent.
"As you will, so that the matter is done with speed. I stay at theBristol. For the moment I visit the Villa Eulalia."
"You can spare yourself the heat and the mounting of the hill, Sidi.They of the villa set forth on an expedition to the lighthouse thismorning."
Aylmer came to a halt, irresolute.
"This is not mere talk; you know it?"
The Moor looked at him with sombre eyes which, however, barely hid atwinkle.
"The lady, the little lord,
and their attendants went; this I sawmyself. Absalaam ibn Said, their dragoman, is my cousin. I spoke withhim."
"The old man?"
Daoud's shrug conveyed the fact that he was sufficiently conversant withthe customs of Nazrani to have neglected the movements of one who couldsurely not claim the attentions which were notoriously the due of hisdaughter.
"I did not concern myself to notice the old man, Sidi. If your businessis with him, doubtless it is God's will that he awaits you."
He waved towards the town with a determined and energetic sweep of thehand.
"I go, to earn your dollars, Sidi. One hour may suffice me; perchance Imust waste three or even four. But I shall find him, have no doubt ofthe matter. Have I your leave to depart?"
As they passed together under the shadow of the Marsa gate, Aylmernodded and the next moment passed alone into the crowd. A side alley hadswallowed Daoud as if by magic.
Aylmer joined the main stream of traffic which breasted up past theMosque and the little Sok towards the Gate of the Great Market, and so,past the hovels of the desert vagrants which cluster round the walls, tothe Marshan and the European quarter outside the town.
A little apart from the cluster of Legations stood the Villa Eulalia,encircled with its tiny park. This, in its turn, was bounded by a highwall of plaster or dried mud. The entrance led under an archway by aporter's lodge.
A Moor in a spotless bournous appeared and made a grave gesture ofobeisance as the visitor stood in the shadow of the porch.
Aylmer presented his card.
The man inspected it and pulled a cord. Some way off, inside the house,came the clang of a bell. Another man emerged, took the card which theporter handed him, and disappeared. All this time Aylmer still stoodoutside the gate.
Perhaps a certain irritation showed on his face, for the porter made agesture of deprecation.
"If the Sidi would sit--?" He submitted courteously, indicating his ownchair. "I do not know the Sidi," he added, with another tiny shrug, "orelse--" His voice died away. He let it be inferred that circumstances,not his own desire, stood between the visitor and instant welcome.
Aylmer smiled.
"Strangers do not have the entree?" he asked, as he seated himself.
The man bowed a grave affirmative.
"These are my orders, Sidi," he answered. "But if the Sidi comes againhe will find that I have a good memory. I do not forget a face."
Aylmer nodded. "I hope to prove it, my friend," he said quietly, andthen sat silent, reviewing his surroundings.
There is probably no more beautifully situated dwelling in Africa thanthis wide one-storied house upon the knoll which dominates the Marshanwith Tangier at its feet. Beyond the clustered houses of the town liesthe blue of the bay. Beyond that again the gray vagueness of Gibraltar,Cadiz, and the cork woods of Spain. On clear days, high, white, andmystical looms, above all, the snow of the Sierra.
Far to the east stands the ring of mountains which encircles Tetuan, andthis, for many months of the year, has its own crown of white. Away tothe west is the infinite emptiness of the Atlantic beyond Spartel, whilesouthward, a barrier between the sea and the desert wastes, Sheshouanrears up its mighty crest. To whichever quarter the eye turns there isloveliness--loveliness both of color and of line. And the lucentclearness of the atmosphere emphasizes both. Sometimes the mist floatsin and covers the seascape with a cloud of mystery, but it is seldom,save in the short time of the rains, that the landward view is anythingbut sun-swathed. And the sands which stretch between the river and thetown walls seem to suck in his rays and render them back from theiryellow richness when his face is obscured.
What nature has done for the distant views artifice has graven upon theimmediate surroundings. Pipes laid down to the little River of the Jews,which babbles below the knoll, bring up water to irrigate the lawnswhich surround the verandahs. Nowhere in Tangier is there such a carpetof living green. The creepers climb the verandah posts and trailunrestrained upon the roof. Great white, red, and yellow flowers swingfrom pole to pole as the sea breeze freshens; trailing tendrils of vineand clematis nod through the open windows and mingle with the cords ofthe string curtains. And the plash of water adds to the sense of leisureand repose. A little fountain plays ceaselessly from the summit of amassed pyramid of rocks and rambles down into the grass betweenclustered ferns. In masses of six and seven the date palms fling shadefrom trunk to trunk.
Peace was the pervading element, Aylmer told himself, as he looked downthe shady alleys and listened to the voice of the fountain, and yetpeace, as facts went, was further from this abode than from the clangorsof the market-place in the faction-riven town at their feet. This was nohouse of pleasure; it was a fortress, with the enemy ever at the gate.
The precautions of his own entrance were sign enough, but other thingsbore witness. A score of gardeners was not necessary to tend the twoacres of pleasaunce, elaborately planned and kept though they were.There was no entrance save the one; two others had been solidly walledin. Bars were on the windows; massive bolts upon the inner wooden gatebeyond the iron one.
Remembering to whom this debt of anxiety and watchfulness was due,Aylmer set his lips yet more grimly as he waited. Landon should pay tothe uttermost, not only for the wrongs which he had heaped year by yearupon his wife and her relations, but for the injury he had done to thoseof his own blood. Aylmer's eyes grew hard; his color rose angrily. He,John Aylmer, a reputable man, sat and waited admission to a house like acommon mendicant, because Landon was a scoundrel. And beyond this, wasthere not more? Had he not had to endure a look of repulse, of loathing,from eyes--for the first time he confessed it, even to himself--whichhad become to him the very eyes of Fate. By God! Landon should paybitterly for that!
A step upon the gravel scattered his reflections. He looked up. Mr. VanArlen was coming towards him, his head bent to that courteous, suavelyinterested inclination which is a relic of the old school of politeness.No man under sixty has had the time, or the inclination, to practisethese old-time graces.
Aylmer rose, and held out his hand. Mr. Van Arlen, with profusegesticulations, insisted on personally bringing forward a couple of lowdeck chairs into the shadow of the palms. He waved his visitor to take aseat.
Aylmer bowed, but preferred, he said, to stand. There was a significancein his tone which did not escape, was, indeed, not meant to escape, hiscompanion. The old gentleman gave him a keen and somewhat disquietedlook.
"But I cannot sit if you do not," he protested. He gave the back of thechair a seductive little pat. "Let me persuade you," he pleadedanxiously.
"Mr. Van Arlen," said Aylmer, slowly, "I am not received here as afriend. I prefer, therefore, to give my message standing, as a matter ofbusiness."
The gray, furrowed face flushed.
"My dear sir!" protested the old man. "My dear sir!"
"You obviously evade my hand; you do not desire to ask me inside yourhouse?" insisted Aylmer, quietly.
The other raised a hand which shook deprecatingly. But Aylmerforestalled his attempt at speech.
"You do these things, or rather you avoid doing them, without anypersonal cause of complaint against me, but because my name is what itis?"
Van Arlen's hand fell to his side. The pained remonstrative look fadedfrom his eyes. His lips, which had quivered, grew suddenly set and werefirmly pressed together. He seemed to increase in stature.
"Is not my reason good?" he cried sharply, as if some relentlesslypassionate impulse mastered all restraint.
"No," said Aylmer, quietly, "though I grant your provocation has beenample. Let me tell you this. If there are any men breathing whoseloathing of your son-in-law can equal your own, it is those who aretainted with his name. In the name of my kinsmen, a name all reputabletill Landon smirched it, I tender you their sympathy and regret."
For a long instant the gray eyes beneath the grayer eyebrows searchedAylmer's face. Doubt, perplexity, and then finally a thrill of obviousrelief passed across the waxen fac
e. Aylmer's hand was taken; he wasgently propelled towards a chair.
"I have suffered much; can I be forgiven?" said the old man wearily."Can you make my excuses valid to yourself?"
"They were written, and the shame of our family with them, all too largein the press of two hemispheres," said Aylmer. "God knows I am not hereto-day to bring anything more than such little reparation as is withinmy power."
"Reparation?" Van Arlen's tone was more than surprised; it was startled.
Aylmer nodded.
"I came to give you information of Landon's whereabouts. He is here inTangier, Mr. Van Arlen. I came to put you on your guard, and at the sametime to offer you my assistance."
Quickly, accurately, and in as few words as possible he outlined theevents of the previous evening. Silently, but with growing anxiety, Mr.Van Arlen heard him to the end.
He rose, trembling a little, as Aylmer concluded.
"You will excuse me if I leave you to--to give some orders. The oneoutstanding fact in your story for me is that Landon is here, and thatmy daughter and the boy are on this expedition. They have their usualattendants, but--but--" He halted, stammering. "He--he may poise his allon one last attempt? He may get together a following which wouldoverpower them?"
Aylmer looked at him debatingly.
"Yes," he allowed. "That is a possibility to be faced though I believehis resources are, or were, meagre. You will take more men and go andmeet them?"
The old man made a gesture of apology.
"Yes," he said. "And, if you will pardon my curtness, at once."
"The sooner the better," agreed Aylmer, quietly, "as I hope to beallowed to accompany you?"
Van Arlen gave a little start, one that seemed to imply a doubt or aquestion. As if he replied to it, Aylmer gave a little nod.
"You must accept me as an ally, my dear sir," he said. "You have seenthat I have a pressing need to meet Landon. I should like to do so inyour company."
The other still hesitated.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I would like to make the interview convincing--to you," saidAylmer. "Because I covet your friendship; because I want you and yourfamily to revise their estimate of the name of Aylmer. Because," hepaused and deliberated over his words for a moment, "because I want tobe received by you at Villa Eulalia, inside."
Again the gray face flushed; again the hand was raised in deprecation.And then the bell in the porch rang furiously, and continued to ringtill the porter emerged frowning from his lodge.
Aylmer heard the sound of blows and his own name repeated in fierceinterrogation. He recognized the voice. It was Daoud who was shoutingand endeavoring to gain entrance in the face of the porter's emphaticprotests.
As Aylmer advanced to the bars, the tumult ceased.
"Sidi! Sidi!" cried the Moor. "Your man left by the Larache road threehours back. A company of ne'er-do-wells have taken a sudden impulse tovisit Arzeila, or so they said. He joined himself to them, wearingnative dress, and was accepted by them without comment. Surely there issomething of strangeness and importance in this. I have run, I havesweated, to let you know!"
Van Arlen gave an exclamation of alarm.
"It is as I thought!" he cried. "The Arzeila road? That is a blind. Theycan make a cut across towards Spartel at any moment." He shouted towardsone of the watching attendants; his voice seemed to gain new force as heissued his orders alertly. He faced Aylmer again. "It is a matter ofspeed," he exclaimed. "I must hasten--at the gallop."
Aylmer gave him a protesting look.
"Not I! We," he corrected.
For a moment the other still hesitated. Then a smile broke into being inhis sombrely weary eyes.
"We, then," he agreed. "Even the gentleman who has sadly impaired thedistinction of my porter, if you can guarantee him. We may need all thehelp we can get. Certainly we! God send we may be in time!"