CHAPTER XIX
THE DELAYED MESSAGE
It was a few days after the _Palestrina_ had sailed when Dom Clementeonce more sat behind the pillars in a basket chair lookingthoughtfully at his unlighted cigar. He could when it appearedadvisable move energetically and to some effect, but he was not fondof action, or conversation, for its own sake, and he seldom toldanybody else what was in his mind. There are men who apparently find apleasure in doing so, and in their case the task is as a rule aparticularly easy one, but Dom Clemente had no sympathy with them.When the time was ripe he acted on his opinions, but otherwise he wasplacid, tolerantly courteous, and inscrutable. Still, there were menconcerned in the government of his country who had confidence in him.
It happened that a little cargo steamer on her way north had crept inthat morning with engines broken down, and her British skipper, whohad certain favors to ask, had been sent to Dom Clemente. He had goneaway contented a few minutes earlier, but he had incidentally suppliedDom Clemente with a piece of information which, although he was notaltogether astonished at it, had made him thoughtful. At last he rose,and laying down his cigar strolled forward leisurely to where,looking down between the pillars, he could see his daughter in thepatio below. She did not see him, for she was sitting with a bookturned back upwards upon her knee and apparently gazing straightbefore her at a trellis draped with flowers. He would have greatlyliked to know what she was thinking, but since he recognized that thiswas one of the wishes that must remain ungratified he turned awayagain with a little gesture which was chiefly expressive ofresignation. He could deal with men, but he had already found that thecharge of a motherless daughter was something of a responsibility.Then he called a negro whom he dispatched with a message, and leanedagainst one of the pillars until a man in uniform with a big swordbelted to him came in.
"Sit down," he said, pointing to the table. "Write what I tell you."
The man did as he was bidden, and Dom Clemente nodded when he wasshown the letter. "You will take it across to the Lieutenant Frequilloand tell him to send a few men direct to the Bahia if he considers itadvisable," he said. "Then you will see the messenger Pachecodispatched with it. The matter, as you will understand, is urgent. Asyou go down say that I should like a word with the Senorita Benicia ifshe is at liberty."
His companion went out with the letter of instructions which wasdirected to the officer in command of the handful of dusky soldierswho had been sent up to inquire for news of Ormsgill, and Dom Clementewho sat down again waited until his daughter came in. She stoodlooking at him expectantly until he turned and pointed to the littleBritish steamer.
"The captain of that vessel has just been in," he said. "He told mewith some resentment that a white steam yacht went by him two daysago, and took no notice of his signals. The captain, it seems, wasvery anxious to be towed in here."
"I do not think that concerns me," said Benicia.
"The yacht," said Dom Clemente, "had a single funnel, a longdeck-house, and two masts, which, of course, is not unusual, but it ismost unlikely that there are two yachts of that description anywherenear this coast. The point is that she was steaming very fast, andheading south, which is certainly not the way to Nigeria."
Benicia appeared to straighten herself a trifle, but save for thelittle movement she was very quiet, and she looked at her father witheyes that were almost as inscrutable as his own. Still, she recognizedthat she was at a disadvantage, since it was evident that the coursehe meant to take was clear to him, and she was in a state of anxiousuncertainty.
"It is," he continued tranquilly, "a little astonishing how theseEnglishmen recognize the natural facilities of a country. There isdown the coast a little bay which I have long had my eyes upon. Someday, perhaps, we will build a deep water pier there and make a railwayacross the littoral. No other place has so many advantages. It offers,among others, a natural road to the interior."
The girl could have faced a direct question better than thispreamble, which Dom Clemente no doubt guessed.
"The Senor Desmond is not a commercialist," she said. "Why should thisinterest him?"
"Well," said Dom Clemente, "one could fancy that it does, for he iscertainly going there." He stopped for a moment, and then his tone wassharp and incisive. "The question is, who sent him?"
Benicia saw the little glint in his dark eyes, but she met his gaze.She was clever enough to realize that there was only one course opento her.
"Ah," she said, "I almost think you know."
The man made a little gesture. "At least, I do not know how the affairconcerns you."
Benicia sat down in the nearest chair, and a faint warmth crept intoher face, for this was the last point she desired to make clear, andDom Clemente's eyes were still fixed upon her. It was evident that heexpected an answer, and it said a good deal for her courage that hervoice was steady.
"You are aware that I have spoiled your plans?" she said.
"That," said Dom Clemente dryly, "is another matter. I am not surethat you have spoiled them. I would, however, like to hear yourreasons for meddling with them."
It was the same question in a different guise, and she nerved herselfto face it.
"The Senor Ormsgill is doing a very chivalrous thing," she said. "Itis one in which he has my sympathy--one could almost fancy that hehas yours, too."
This was a bold venture, but she saw the man's faint smile. "I have aduty here, and that counts for most," he said. "Then it was sympathywith this man Ormsgill that influenced you?"
"Not altogether. I hate the Chefe at San Roque. You know why that isnatural, and, after all, it was you who had him sent there. Apart fromthat, is it not clear that he and the trader Herrero and Domingo playinto each other's hands up yonder? The traffic they are engaged in isauthorized, but the way in which it is carried out is an iniquity."
There were, as it happened, men in that country who held similarviews, but the other reason the girl had proffered seemed to DomClemente the most obvious one, though he fancied it did not go quitefar enough. It was conceivable that she should hate Dom Erminio, whohad been sent up into the bush after bringing discredit upon himselfas well as certain friends of hers. Still, he realized that this was amatter on which she would never fully enlighten him, and he recognizedhis disabilities. It was, perhaps, one of his strong points that heusually did recognize them, and seldom attempted the impossible. Asthe result of this he generally carried out what he took in hand. DomClemente was first of all a soldier, and not one who shone incivilized society or cared to scheme for preferment by socialinfluence, which was probably why he had been sent out to a secondarycommand in Africa. He had friends who said he might have gone furtherhad he been less faithful to his dead wife's memory.
"Well," he said, "it was certainly my intention to arrest this manOrmsgill. I admit that I have a certain sympathy with him, and that ispartly why I am a little anxious to keep him from involving himself inuseless difficulties."
"Do you think a man of his kind would be grateful for that?"
Dom Clemente made a little gesture of indifference. "I do not know. Itis, after all, not a point that very much concerns me, though he isdoing a perilous thing by meddling with our affairs, especially in thebush yonder."
"Ah," said Benicia, "then is nobody to meddle, and is this iniquity togo on?"
Dom Clemente smiled dryly. "I almost think," he said, "that when thetime is ripe there will, as usual, be a man ready to take the affairin hand. In the meanwhile it would be a very undesirable thing thatany one should point to you as a friend of this rash Englishman."
He rose, and buckling on his sword went down the outer stairway, whileBenicia sat still with her cheeks burning. She fancied Dom Clementehad meant a good deal more than he had said, but, after all, that didnot greatly trouble her. She was not one who counted the cost, and itwas not quite clear that she had failed, though she knew troops hadbeen dispatched to head off Ormsgill from the coast. It was possiblethat he had slipped past them, and the _Pale
strina_ would be waitingat the Bahia Santiago, and then it flashed upon her that it would notbe difficult for her father to send the man in command of the troopsinstructions to proceed direct to the Bahia by a fast messenger. Whileshe considered the point it happened that the officer he had handedthe instructions to came up the stairway.
"I wonder if you know where the messenger Pacheco is, Senorita?" hesaid. "I have an urgent errand for him."
Benicia saw that he had a packet in his hand, and a swift glance atthe table showed her that the writing materials were not exactly asthey had been laid out an hour or two earlier. Somebody, it seemed,had written a letter, and she could make a shrewd guess at itspurport. For a moment she stood looking at the officer, and thinkinghard. It was evident that her father had a certain liking forOrmsgill, but she felt that he would probably not allow it toinfluence him to any great extent. He was apparently working out somecleverly laid plan of his own, and it was evident that she would incura heavy responsibility by meddling with it, but after all Ormsgill'ssafety stood first with her.
"I am not sure, but I think he is in the house," she said.
She left the officer waiting, and entering her own room hastily wrotea note. Then she went down the inner stairway with it in her hand, andcrossing the patio glanced up for a moment at the balustrade above.Fortunately, the officer was not leaning over it, and did not see herslip into a store room where a big dusky man was talking to thenegress cook, with whom, as it happened, he was a favorite. WesternAfrica is indifferently supplied with telegraphic and postalfacilities and messages are still usually carried by native runners.There were none of them anywhere about that city as fast or trusty asPacheco, and Benicia smiled as she looked at him. He was lean and hardand muscular, a man who had made famous journeys in the service of theGovernment, which was exactly why she did not wish him to be availablefor another one.
"I have a message for the Senora Blanco," she said. "I should like herto get it before she goes to sleep in the afternoon, and you willstart now, but if it is very hot you need make no great haste inbringing me back the answer."
Pacheco rose with a grin. "It is only two leagues to the plantation,"he said. "Though the road is rough, that is nothing to me."
Then the plump negro woman caught Benicia's eyes, and, though she saidnothing, there was comprehension in her dusky face. The girl went outin the patio satisfied, and stood waiting behind a creeper-coveredtrellis. She felt she could leave the matter in the hands of thenegress with confidence. The latter turned to the messenger with acompassionate smile.
"You have the sense of a trek-ox. It is in your legs," she said. "TheSenorita does not wish you to distress yourself if the day is hot."
"But," said Pacheco, "it is always hot, and no journey of that kindcould weary me."
The woman made a little grimace. "The trek-ox is slow to understandand one teaches it with the stick. Sometimes the same thing is donewith a man. It seems the Senorita does not wish to see how fast youcould go."
At last Pacheco seemed to understand. "Ah," he said, "there are thornsin this country. Now and then one gets one in his foot."
"The Senorita would be sorry if you came home limping. Once or twice Ihave cut my hand with the chopper, and she was kind to me."
The man chuckled softly and went out, and Benicia standing in theshadow felt her heart beat as she watched him slip across the patio.There would probably be complications if the officer saw him fromabove. Nobody, however, appeared among the pillars, and the shadowyarch that led through the building was not far away. The negro's feetfell softly on the hot stones, and though the slight patter soundedhorribly distinct to her nobody called out to stop him. He had almostreached the arch when a uniformed figure appeared between two of thepillars, and for a moment the girl held her breath. If the man movedanother foot it was evident that he must see the messenger, but, as ithappened, he stood where he was, and next moment Pacheco, who turnedand looked back at her with a grin, slipped into the shadow of thearch. Then Benicia went back into the house a little quiver of reliefrunning through her. It would, she knew, be possible to obtain othermessengers, but none of them were so well acquainted with the nativepaths which traverse the littoral or so speedy as Pacheco, and she didnot think he would be available until the evening.
In the meantime the officer waited above, until growing impatient, hesummoned the major domo, who sent for the negress.
"Pacheco was certainly in the house because he talked to me, but hewent out with a message, and I do not know when he will be backagain," she said.
The officer asked her several questions without, however, elicitingmuch further information, and went away somewhat perplexed. He couldnot help a fancy that Benicia was somehow connected with themessenger's disappearance, but there was nothing to suggest what herobject could have been. She was also a lady of influence, and hewisely decided to keep his thoughts to himself. As it happened,Pacheco did not arrive until late that night, and another messengerwas dispatched in the meanwhile. He, however, became involved amidst awaste of tall grass which Pacheco would have skirted, and afterwardswasted a day or two endeavoring to carry out the directions certainvillagers who bore the Government no great good-will had given him. Asthe result of this the handful of black soldiers had wandered a gooddeal further inland before he came up with them.
In the meantime it happened the morning after he set out that DomClemente sent for Pacheco who was just then sitting in the cook'sstore nursing an injured foot. They exchanged glances when themajor-domo informed him that his presence would be required in a fewminutes, and after the latter had gone out the negress handed Pachecoa sharp-pointed knife.
"It is wise to make certain when one has to answer a man like DomClemente, and the scratch the thorn made was not a very large one,"she said.
Pacheco took the knife, and looked at it hesitatingly.
"The thing would be easier if it was some other person's foot. Itwill, no doubt, hurt," he said.
"It will hurt less than what Dom Clemente may order you," and thenegress grinned. "A man is always afraid of bearing a little pain."
Pacheco decided that she was probably right, and set his thick lips ashe laid the knife point against the ball of his big toe. Still, for itis probable that there are respects in which the negro'ssusceptibilities are less than those of the civilized white man, hesteadily pressed the blade in. After that he wrapped up his footagain, and rose with a wry face.
"I was given a bottle of anisado and a small piece of silveryesterday," he said. "I almost think I deserve a little more forthis."
Then he limped up the stairway leaving red marks behind him, and madea little deprecatory gesture when he appeared before Dom Clemente. Thelatter looked at him in a fashion which sent a thrill of dismaythrough him.
"I hear you have hurt your foot," he said. "Take that bandage off."
Pacheco, who dare not hesitate, sat down and unrolled the rag. Thenwith considerable misgivings he did as he was bidden and held up hisfoot.
"Ah," said Dom Clemente dryly, "a thorn did that. The wound a thornmakes seems to keep curiously fresh. Well, you can put on the ragagain."
Pacheco did it as hastily as he could while he wondered with a growinguneasiness what the man who regarded him with a little sardonic smilewould ask him next. Dom Clemente, however, made him a sign to get up.
"One would recommend you to be more careful," he said. "You will havereason to regret it if the next time I have an errand for you you havea--thorn--in your foot."
Pacheco limped away with sincere relief, and Dom Clemente who satstill contemplatively smoked a cigar. While he did it he once moredecided that it is now and then advisable to content oneself withsimply looking on, and it was characteristic of him that when he nextmet Benicia he asked her no questions.
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