X — AN UNEXPECTED MEETINGIT was almost cold and very still when Appleby looked out from his lair among the cane. Morning had not come but the clump of trees that had been a mere blur of shadow when he last awakened had grown into definite form, and rose black and solemn against the eastern sky. This was no longer dusky indigo, but of a softer color tinged with a faint pearly gray, while detached stalks of cane seemed to be growing into visibility. Then he stood up with a little shiver, his torn garments clinging about him wet with the dew, and became vaguely conscious that he was very uncomfortable. His limbs ached with weariness, and there was a distressful stiffness in his hip-joint which those who have slept on damp ground are acquainted with, while his foot throbbed painfully.These sensations, however, vanished, and left him intent and alert, for a sound he recognized came quivering through the still, cool air. It was evident that Harper heard it also, for he rose stiffly, and his face showed faintly white as he turned in the direction of the carretera which ran through the cane some fifty yards away.“Troops! It’s kind of fortunate we crawled in here,” he said.Appleby nodded, for he had passed the greater part of six months hiding from the troops of Spain, and the tramp of marching men was unpleasantly familiar to him, while now, as it grew louder in a dull staccato, it seemed unusually portentous and sinister. The earth lay still and peaceful, wrapped in shadow, while the pearly grayness changed to a pale ruby gleam in the eastern sky; but that beat of human feet jarred dissonantly through nature’s harmonies.It swelled in slow crescendo, a rhythm of desecration, while the thin jingle of steel and a confused rattling that had still a measured cadence also became audible. The two men who heard it sat very still among the cane, until Appleby, who was not usually a prey to apprehensive fancies, started at the clack of Harper’s rifle as he snapped down the lever and closed the breach again. The sound seemed to ring about them with a horrible distinctness.“They seem in a hurry, and that’s quite fortunate for us,” said Harper. “Anyway, if they see us they’re not going to get me while there’s anything in the magazine. I’ve no use for being stood up with my hands tied against a wall.”Appleby said nothing, but his brown fingers stiffened on the wet Marlin rifle, and Harper smiled in a somewhat sardonic fashion when he saw the glint in his half-closed eyes. Reticence is not accounted a virtue in his country, but the Englishman’s immobility was eloquent, and his comrade was satisfied that if the worst came they would not start out on the unknown trail alone. Then four by four dim figures swung out of the shadows, and the cane seemed to shiver in unison with their trampling as they went by with a forest of sloped rifles wavering above them. Here and there a mounted officer showed above the rest; while even when the leading fours were lost again in the shadows there seemed no end to them, and there was still no slackening in the sonorous beat of feet. At last, however, laden beasts appeared with men who straggled about them, then two or three more sections with rifles trailed; and Appleby drew in a deep breath when once more the gap between the cane was empty.“There will be no room for the Sin Verguenza now, and nobody will be likely to take us in,” he said. “What is to be done, Harper?”“Go to sleep!” said the American tranquilly. “I wouldn’t worry about the Sin Verguenza. Quite a few of them have picked up enough to retire on. I wish I hadn’t handed my haversack to black Domingo when I went back for you. That’s what’s troubling me.”Appleby laughed, and rolled into the little hollow he had made for himself with the careless disregard of the future which is not infrequently the adventurer’s most valuable possession. He also slept soundly, and the sun was high when he awakened with a start to see a man looking down on him. He was dressed in unstarched linen, frayed but very clean, and a big straw hat, while he held a hoe and a basket in one hand, and stood regarding Appleby with grave curiosity.“There is much sun to-day, señor,” he said.Appleby shifted his hand from the rifle and laid it restrainingly on Harper, who staggered to his feet, for there was something that inspired him with confidence in the man’s dark eyes.“Are there troops on the road?” he asked.“No,” said the man. “None between here and Arucas. The señores are—”“Friends of liberty!” and Harper grinned as he straightened himself and turned to Appleby. “Hadn’t you better tell him the question is where can two patriots get anything to eat?”The man glanced at their haggard faces and torn garments, which were white with dust and clammy with dew.“Ave Maria!” he said softly, and taking a small loaf from the basket broke it into two pieces. One he held out with a bottle of thin red wine, while he glanced at the other half of the loaf deprecatingly.“One must eat to work,” he said, as if in explanation. “There is always work for the poor, and between the troops and the Sin Verguenza they have very little else here.”A flush crept into Appleby’s forehead, and Harper pulled out a few pesetas, which was all he had, but the man shook his head.“No, señor,” he said. “It is for the charity, and one cannot have the liberty for nothing. Still, there are many contributions one must make, and I cannot do more.”Appleby, who understood the significance charity has in Spain, took the provisions and lifted his battered hat as the man turned away; but when he had taken a pace or two he came back again and dropped a little bundle of maize-husk cigarettes and a strip of cardboard matches beside them. Then, without a word, he plodded away down a little path while Harper looked at Appleby with wonder in his eyes.“I guess there are men like him in every nation, though they’re often quite hard to find,” he said. “More style about him than a good many of our senators have at home. Well, we’ll have breakfast now, and then get on again.”They ate the half loaf and drank the wine; but Harper looked grave when Appleby took off his shoe. His foot seemed badly swollen, but he desisted from an attempt to remove the torn and clotted stocking with a wry smile, and put on the shoe again. Then he limped out into the road and plodded painfully down it under the scorching sun all that morning without plan or purpose, though he knew that while it lay not far from Santa Marta the Insurgents had friends and sympathizers in the aldea of Arucas, which was somewhere in front of them. They met nobody. The road wound away before them empty as well as intolerably hot and dusty, though here and there a group of men at work in the fields stopped and stared at them; and they spent an hour making what Harper called a traverse round a white aldea they were not sure about. Then they lay down awhile in a ruined garden beside the carretera.There was a nispero tree in the garden laden with acid yellow fruit, and Appleby ate the handful Harper brought him greedily, for he was slightly feverish and grimed with dust. Then they smoked the peasant’s maize-husk cigarettes and watched the purple lizards crawl about the fire-blackened ruins of the house. They could hear the rasp of machetes amidst the cane and the musical clink of hoes, while now and then a hum of voices reached them from the village; and once, with a great clatter, a mounted man in uniform went by.Harper lay still, drowsily content to rest; but those sounds of human activity troubled Appleby. The men who made them had work to do, and a roof to shelter them when their toil was done, but he was drifting aimlessly as the red leaves he had watched from the foot-bridge one winter day in England. Tony stood beside him then, and he wondered vaguely what Tony was doing now—playing the part of gentleman steward to Godfrey Palliser with credit to himself and the good will of his uncle’s tenants, riding through English meadows, meeting men who were glad to welcome him in London clubs, or basking in the soft gleam of Violet Wayne’s eyes. It was the latter only that Appleby envied him; and he wondered whether Tony, who had so much, knew the full value of the love that had been given him as the crown of all, and then brushed the thoughts away when Harper rose.“We have got to make Arucas by to-night, or lie out starving, which is a thing I have no use for,” he said. “It’s a long hustle.”Appleby rose, and staggered as he placed his weight upon his injured foot, and then, while Harper laid a steadying hand on his shoulder, limped out into the carretera. It stretched away before them, white, and hot, and straight, with scarcely a flicker of shadow to relieve its blinding glare; and Appleby half closed his eyes, while the perspiration dripped from Harper’s face.“And it’s quite often I’ve sworn I’d turn farmer and never go to sea again! Well, I guess there are more fools like me!”Appleby had no observation to make, and they plodded on through a land of silence and intolerable heat. No Latin who can help it works at that hour of the afternoon, and peon and soldier alike lay where there was coolness and shadow wrapped in restful sleep. Only the two aliens crawled on with aching heads and dazzled eyes down the dusty road which rolled back interminably to their weary feet. The cane was no longer green to Appleby, but steeped in yellow glare, the dust gleamed incandescent white, and the sky seemed charged with an overwhelming radiancy.Still, he limped on, dreaming, while each step cost him agony, of the brown woods at Northrop and the sheen of frost on the red brier leaves in the English lanes, for all that he had seen during that last eventful fortnight there flashed into his memory. He could recall the chill of the night air when he stood looking into the future from the face of the hill as he went to meet keeper Davidson; the sweep of velvet lawn, the song of the robin on the lime bough in the bracing cold of morning, and plainer than all the face of the woman he had made a promise to under the soft light in the conservatory. He did not know what that promise would cost him when he made it; but the woman had read his character, and was warranted in deciding that it would be kept.No road, however, goes on interminably, and the white aldea of Arucas rose before them when the sun was low. They plodded into it, limping and stumbling over the slippery stones, and frightening the dark-eyed children with their grim faces; for there was a hum of life behind the lattices now, and a cooking of the comida in the patios and in front of the open doors. Harper sniffed hungrily—for the pungent odors of the dark green oil and garlic hung about the flat-topped houses—and finally halted before an archway leading into a shadowy patio. There was a legend above it.“‘The Golden Fleece’!” he said. “Well, they’ll have some wine here, and I’ve got five pesetas.”They went in, and when they limped into the guest chamber a man dressed in unstarched linen stared at them aghast.“Madre de Dios!” he said.He would apparently have backed away in consternation had not Harper, who slipped between him and the door, stood with his back to it; while Appleby spoke two words softly in Castilian. They were without connection and apparently meaningless, but they carried weight with those who had any hand in the insurrection, and the landlord sat down, evidently irresolute.“Would you ruin me? The Sin Verguenza are scattered, and Espada Morales is not far away,” he said.“Still,” said Appleby dryly, “they are not dead, my friend, and it is only those who are buried that never come back again.”The innkeeper nodded, for the delicacy of the hint as well as the man’s accent were thoroughly Castilian.“Well,” he said reflectively, “here one is ruined in any case, and what one gives to the friends of liberty Morales will not get. After all, it is but a handful of beans or an omelet, and it is golden onzas those others would have from me.”“If eggs are not too dear here we can pay,” said Appleby, with a laugh, and turned to see that Harper was glancing at him reproachfully.It was evident that the innkeeper saw him, too, for a little smile came into his eyes. “Then it is seldom so with the Sin Verguenza,” he said. “Doubtless your companion is one of them.”“Silver is scarce with the Sin Verguenza,” said Appleby. “Still, there are debts they pay with lead.”The innkeeper set food before them—beans and oil, an omelet, and a bottle of thin red wine from the Canaries. He also somewhat reluctantly produced a few cigars of a most excellent tobacco; and Harper sighed with pure content when he dropped into a big raw-hide chair when the meal was over.“Now I could ’most be happy if I knew when we would strike another place like this,” he said. “Still, it’s quite plain to me that we can’t stay here. There are too many cazadores prowling up and down this carretera.”It was equally evident to Appleby, but, crippled as he was he could find no answer to the question how he was to drag himself any farther, and he lay still, considering the chances of their being given a hidden bed in a forage loft, until there was a great clatter on the stones outside. Harper was on his feet in a moment, and sprang to the window grim in face, but once there he laughed.“Only a carriage with a man and a woman in it,” he said, “You let me do the talking if old yellow-face wants to turn us out of here. Anyway, if I go, what’s left of the wine goes with me.”To make sure of this he slipped the bottle into his pocket, and turned discreetly when the landlord came in.“By permission, gentlemen, I will show you another room,” he said.“This one will serve quite well,” said Harper in Castilian.The landlord concealed his impatience by a gesture of deprecation. “Comes a rich American and a lady,” he said. “These people are, it seems, fastidious, but they pay me well.”“An American,” said Harper condescendingly. “Well, we are equal there in my country, and I do not object to his company. You can show him in.”It was too late for the innkeeper to expostulate, for a man in white duck and a girl in a long white dress came into the room, while Appleby set his lips when he recognized the latter. He was ragged, dirty, and unkempt, while one shoe was horribly crusted, and it was very much against his wishes to encounter Nettie Harding a second time in much the same condition. Harper, however, appeared in no way disconcerted, and stepped forward, a dilapidated scarecrow, with the bottle neck projecting suggestively from his pocket.“Come right in, Mr. Harding,” he said. “It’s quite pleasant to meet a countryman in this forlorn land.”Harding smiled dryly, but his daughter turned to Appleby with a gleam of compassion in her eyes and held out her hand.“We are very glad to meet you, Mr. Broughton,” she said.Appleby felt grateful for the tactful kindness which restrained any sign of astonishment, but Harding laughed.“I never go back upon anything my daughter says, but I don’t know that I’m sorry we shall not be honored with the company of any more of the Sin Verguenza,” he said. “We have ordered comida, and should be pleased if you will sit down with us.”Appleby would have excused himself, but Harper broke in, “The Sin Verguenza have gone, and it’s not going to worry me if they never come back again. As to the other question, I can generally find a use for a dinner, and if my company’s any pleasure be glad to throw it in.”Appleby would have offered an explanation, but Harper silenced him by a gesture, and the landlord came in with the viands.“Bring more plates. These gentlemen will eat with me,” said Harding.The landlord appeared astonished, and stared at Harper with bewildered incredulity, until Nettie Harding, who was quick-witted, laughed, and the bronze grew deeper in Appleby’s cheeks. Harper, however, was by no means disconcerted.“Well,” he said naively, “out of compliment to your father I’ll worry through another one. You see, it may be quite a long while before we get a meal again.”They sat down, and while Appleby said very little Harding talked tactfully of England and America, and made no allusion to anything that concerned Cuba. Harper seconded him ably, for there was, as usual with his countrymen, no diffidence in him; and Appleby wondered whether there was any reason for Miss Harding’s curious little smile. Then when the fruit was removed Harding closed the door and took out his cigar case.“Take a smoke. Miss Harding does not mind!” he said.Appleby made excuses, but Harper laid the cigars the landlord had supplied them with on the table.“You’ll try one of these,” he said. “I think they’re good.”Harding lighted a cigar, and then it seemed to Appleby that a change came over his attitude, though he also fancied that Miss Harding had expected it.“They are,” he said. “You got them cheap?”There was no mistaking the significance of his tone, and Appleby straightened himself a trifle. Still, he felt he could not well rebuke the man whose dinner he had just eaten.“Isn’t that a little beyond the question, sir?” he asked quietly.“I don’t quite know that it is. I’m going to talk now, and it may save time and worry if I put it straight. What’s the matter with the Sin Verguenza?”“Busted!” said Harper. “Smashed up a company of cazadores, and lit out. Nobody’s going to worry over them.”“Which is why you are here?”“You’ve hit it right off,” said Harper.“If you feel inclined to tell me anything more I’ll listen.”Appleby, who resented the man’s tone as much as he was astonished at it, was about to observe that he felt no inclination to trespass further on his host’s patience, but he fancied there was a warning in Nettie Harding’s eyes, and Harper did not wait for him. He at once launched into an ornate account of the affray, and discreetly mentioned their present difficulties. Harding listened gravely, and then turned to Appleby.“I have a Spanish sugar grower to visit, and you will excuse me, but I would like to see you again before you leave the hotel,” he said. “Anyway, it wouldn’t be quite safe for you to take the road just now.”He went out with his daughter, and when they were in the patio the girl looked at him. “You have got to do something for them,” she said quietly.“Yes,” said Harding, with a little nod, “I am going to. As it happens, it will suit me.”It was an hour later when they came back, and as the light was fading Harding bade the landlord bring a lamp before he sat down, and turned to Appleby and Harper, who were somewhat anxiously waiting him.“You are scarcely likely to know anything about growing or crushing sugar, Mr. Broughton?” he said.“No, sir. Nothing whatever.”“Thank you!” said Harding, and glanced with a little smile at Harper. “I guess it’s not necessary to ask you.”“No,” said Harper tranquilly. “I know a little about anything there’s money in, and what I don’t I can learn. Bernardino’s going to show himself ’most as quick as me. It’s only modesty that’s wrong with him.”“Well,” said Harding dryly, “he’s an Englishman. Now, Mr. Broughton, in one sense your friend is right. Adaptability is the quality we most appreciate; and a good many men in my country, including myself, have made quite a pile out of businesses they knew very little about when they took hold of them. Well, I want a straight man, with good nerves and a cool head, to run a sugar estate for me. I don’t want him to cut the cane or oil the machinery—that will be done for him; but he will have to hold my interests safe, and see I’m not unduly squeezed by the gentlemen who keep order here. If he robs me on his own account he will probably hear of it. Are you willing to take hold on a six months’ trial?”“There is a difficulty.“Your partner? That got over, you would be willing?”“Yes,” said Appleby. “I should be devoutly thankful, too.”Harding turned to Harper. “I have a kind of notion I have seen you before. I don’t mean in Santa Marta.”“Oh yes,” said Harper, grinning. “You once had a deal with me. I ran you in a load of machinery without paying duty.”“You did. I fancied you would have had reasons for preferring not to remember it.”Harper laughed. “Now, it seems to me the fact that I came out ahead of Cyrus Harding ought to be a testimonial. I was fighting for my own hand then, but I never took anything I wasn’t entitled to from the man who hired me—at least, if I did I can’t remember it.”“Don’t try it again,” said Harding, with a little grim smile. “In this case, I think it would be risky. Well, I guess I can find a use for you too, but the putting you together increases the steepness of the chances you are taking. Does that strike you?”“Yes, sir,” said Appleby. “Still, I am afraid you must take both or neither.”Harding laughed. “Then I’ll show you the place and what your business will be before we argue about the salary. In the meanwhile here are five dollars. Go out and buy hats, but no clothing yet. We’ll get that later. Then walk out of the village, and wait for me out of sight along the carretera. You needn’t be bashful about taking the dollars. They will be deducted from your salary.”They went out and bought the hats, and had just time to spring clear of the road when two or three mounted officers trotted by. Five minutes later the officers pulled up at the hotel, and Harding, who met them in the patio, recognized Espada Morales in one who saluted him.“You have had a pleasant drive?” he said. “The Señorita Harding I trust is well?”Harding nodded, though he was not pleased to notice that the officer’s dark eyes wandered round the patio and as though in search of somebody.“She will be gratified to hear of your inquiry,” he said. “We are going back now, and there is a kindness you could do me. I am taking two new servants to the San Cristoval sugar mill, and you may have troops or pickets who would stop us on the road.”Morales tore a slip from a little pad he took from his pocket, scribbled across it, and handed it to Harding.“If you are questioned show them that,” he said. “When you desire any other service I am at your command.”Harding took the paper and told his driver to get the mules out, while ten minutes after he and his daughter left the hotel he bade the man pull up beside two figures standing in the road. They got into the carriage when he signed to them.“If you had waited a little longer you might have met Morales face to face, Mr. Broughton, and that foot of yours would probably have convicted a more innocent man,” he said. “As it is, I have a pass from him that will prevent anybody worrying you until we reach San Cristoval.”Then the driver flicked the mules, and they rolled swiftly forward into the soft darkness that now hid the cane and dimmed the long white road.
X — AN UNEXPECTED MEETINGIT was almost cold and very still when Appleby looked out from his lair among the cane. Morning had not come but the clump of trees that had been a mere blur of shadow when he last awakened had grown into definite form, and rose black and solemn against the eastern sky. This was no longer dusky indigo, but of a softer color tinged with a faint pearly gray, while detached stalks of cane seemed to be growing into visibility. Then he stood up with a little shiver, his torn garments clinging about him wet with the dew, and became vaguely conscious that he was very uncomfortable. His limbs ached with weariness, and there was a distressful stiffness in his hip-joint which those who have slept on damp ground are acquainted with, while his foot throbbed painfully.These sensations, however, vanished, and left him intent and alert, for a sound he recognized came quivering through the still, cool air. It was evident that Harper heard it also, for he rose stiffly, and his face showed faintly white as he turned in the direction of the carretera which ran through the cane some fifty yards away.“Troops! It’s kind of fortunate we crawled in here,” he said.Appleby nodded, for he had passed the greater part of six months hiding from the troops of Spain, and the tramp of marching men was unpleasantly familiar to him, while now, as it grew louder in a dull staccato, it seemed unusually portentous and sinister. The earth lay still and peaceful, wrapped in shadow, while the pearly grayness changed to a pale ruby gleam in the eastern sky; but that beat of human feet jarred dissonantly through nature’s harmonies.It swelled in slow crescendo, a rhythm of desecration, while the thin jingle of steel and a confused rattling that had still a measured cadence also became audible. The two men who heard it sat very still among the cane, until Appleby, who was not usually a prey to apprehensive fancies, started at the clack of Harper’s rifle as he snapped down the lever and closed the breach again. The sound seemed to ring about them with a horrible distinctness.“They seem in a hurry, and that’s quite fortunate for us,” said Harper. “Anyway, if they see us they’re not going to get me while there’s anything in the magazine. I’ve no use for being stood up with my hands tied against a wall.”Appleby said nothing, but his brown fingers stiffened on the wet Marlin rifle, and Harper smiled in a somewhat sardonic fashion when he saw the glint in his half-closed eyes. Reticence is not accounted a virtue in his country, but the Englishman’s immobility was eloquent, and his comrade was satisfied that if the worst came they would not start out on the unknown trail alone. Then four by four dim figures swung out of the shadows, and the cane seemed to shiver in unison with their trampling as they went by with a forest of sloped rifles wavering above them. Here and there a mounted officer showed above the rest; while even when the leading fours were lost again in the shadows there seemed no end to them, and there was still no slackening in the sonorous beat of feet. At last, however, laden beasts appeared with men who straggled about them, then two or three more sections with rifles trailed; and Appleby drew in a deep breath when once more the gap between the cane was empty.“There will be no room for the Sin Verguenza now, and nobody will be likely to take us in,” he said. “What is to be done, Harper?”“Go to sleep!” said the American tranquilly. “I wouldn’t worry about the Sin Verguenza. Quite a few of them have picked up enough to retire on. I wish I hadn’t handed my haversack to black Domingo when I went back for you. That’s what’s troubling me.”Appleby laughed, and rolled into the little hollow he had made for himself with the careless disregard of the future which is not infrequently the adventurer’s most valuable possession. He also slept soundly, and the sun was high when he awakened with a start to see a man looking down on him. He was dressed in unstarched linen, frayed but very clean, and a big straw hat, while he held a hoe and a basket in one hand, and stood regarding Appleby with grave curiosity.“There is much sun to-day, señor,” he said.Appleby shifted his hand from the rifle and laid it restrainingly on Harper, who staggered to his feet, for there was something that inspired him with confidence in the man’s dark eyes.“Are there troops on the road?” he asked.“No,” said the man. “None between here and Arucas. The señores are—”“Friends of liberty!” and Harper grinned as he straightened himself and turned to Appleby. “Hadn’t you better tell him the question is where can two patriots get anything to eat?”The man glanced at their haggard faces and torn garments, which were white with dust and clammy with dew.“Ave Maria!” he said softly, and taking a small loaf from the basket broke it into two pieces. One he held out with a bottle of thin red wine, while he glanced at the other half of the loaf deprecatingly.“One must eat to work,” he said, as if in explanation. “There is always work for the poor, and between the troops and the Sin Verguenza they have very little else here.”A flush crept into Appleby’s forehead, and Harper pulled out a few pesetas, which was all he had, but the man shook his head.“No, señor,” he said. “It is for the charity, and one cannot have the liberty for nothing. Still, there are many contributions one must make, and I cannot do more.”Appleby, who understood the significance charity has in Spain, took the provisions and lifted his battered hat as the man turned away; but when he had taken a pace or two he came back again and dropped a little bundle of maize-husk cigarettes and a strip of cardboard matches beside them. Then, without a word, he plodded away down a little path while Harper looked at Appleby with wonder in his eyes.“I guess there are men like him in every nation, though they’re often quite hard to find,” he said. “More style about him than a good many of our senators have at home. Well, we’ll have breakfast now, and then get on again.”They ate the half loaf and drank the wine; but Harper looked grave when Appleby took off his shoe. His foot seemed badly swollen, but he desisted from an attempt to remove the torn and clotted stocking with a wry smile, and put on the shoe again. Then he limped out into the road and plodded painfully down it under the scorching sun all that morning without plan or purpose, though he knew that while it lay not far from Santa Marta the Insurgents had friends and sympathizers in the aldea of Arucas, which was somewhere in front of them. They met nobody. The road wound away before them empty as well as intolerably hot and dusty, though here and there a group of men at work in the fields stopped and stared at them; and they spent an hour making what Harper called a traverse round a white aldea they were not sure about. Then they lay down awhile in a ruined garden beside the carretera.There was a nispero tree in the garden laden with acid yellow fruit, and Appleby ate the handful Harper brought him greedily, for he was slightly feverish and grimed with dust. Then they smoked the peasant’s maize-husk cigarettes and watched the purple lizards crawl about the fire-blackened ruins of the house. They could hear the rasp of machetes amidst the cane and the musical clink of hoes, while now and then a hum of voices reached them from the village; and once, with a great clatter, a mounted man in uniform went by.Harper lay still, drowsily content to rest; but those sounds of human activity troubled Appleby. The men who made them had work to do, and a roof to shelter them when their toil was done, but he was drifting aimlessly as the red leaves he had watched from the foot-bridge one winter day in England. Tony stood beside him then, and he wondered vaguely what Tony was doing now—playing the part of gentleman steward to Godfrey Palliser with credit to himself and the good will of his uncle’s tenants, riding through English meadows, meeting men who were glad to welcome him in London clubs, or basking in the soft gleam of Violet Wayne’s eyes. It was the latter only that Appleby envied him; and he wondered whether Tony, who had so much, knew the full value of the love that had been given him as the crown of all, and then brushed the thoughts away when Harper rose.“We have got to make Arucas by to-night, or lie out starving, which is a thing I have no use for,” he said. “It’s a long hustle.”Appleby rose, and staggered as he placed his weight upon his injured foot, and then, while Harper laid a steadying hand on his shoulder, limped out into the carretera. It stretched away before them, white, and hot, and straight, with scarcely a flicker of shadow to relieve its blinding glare; and Appleby half closed his eyes, while the perspiration dripped from Harper’s face.“And it’s quite often I’ve sworn I’d turn farmer and never go to sea again! Well, I guess there are more fools like me!”Appleby had no observation to make, and they plodded on through a land of silence and intolerable heat. No Latin who can help it works at that hour of the afternoon, and peon and soldier alike lay where there was coolness and shadow wrapped in restful sleep. Only the two aliens crawled on with aching heads and dazzled eyes down the dusty road which rolled back interminably to their weary feet. The cane was no longer green to Appleby, but steeped in yellow glare, the dust gleamed incandescent white, and the sky seemed charged with an overwhelming radiancy.Still, he limped on, dreaming, while each step cost him agony, of the brown woods at Northrop and the sheen of frost on the red brier leaves in the English lanes, for all that he had seen during that last eventful fortnight there flashed into his memory. He could recall the chill of the night air when he stood looking into the future from the face of the hill as he went to meet keeper Davidson; the sweep of velvet lawn, the song of the robin on the lime bough in the bracing cold of morning, and plainer than all the face of the woman he had made a promise to under the soft light in the conservatory. He did not know what that promise would cost him when he made it; but the woman had read his character, and was warranted in deciding that it would be kept.No road, however, goes on interminably, and the white aldea of Arucas rose before them when the sun was low. They plodded into it, limping and stumbling over the slippery stones, and frightening the dark-eyed children with their grim faces; for there was a hum of life behind the lattices now, and a cooking of the comida in the patios and in front of the open doors. Harper sniffed hungrily—for the pungent odors of the dark green oil and garlic hung about the flat-topped houses—and finally halted before an archway leading into a shadowy patio. There was a legend above it.“‘The Golden Fleece’!” he said. “Well, they’ll have some wine here, and I’ve got five pesetas.”They went in, and when they limped into the guest chamber a man dressed in unstarched linen stared at them aghast.“Madre de Dios!” he said.He would apparently have backed away in consternation had not Harper, who slipped between him and the door, stood with his back to it; while Appleby spoke two words softly in Castilian. They were without connection and apparently meaningless, but they carried weight with those who had any hand in the insurrection, and the landlord sat down, evidently irresolute.“Would you ruin me? The Sin Verguenza are scattered, and Espada Morales is not far away,” he said.“Still,” said Appleby dryly, “they are not dead, my friend, and it is only those who are buried that never come back again.”The innkeeper nodded, for the delicacy of the hint as well as the man’s accent were thoroughly Castilian.“Well,” he said reflectively, “here one is ruined in any case, and what one gives to the friends of liberty Morales will not get. After all, it is but a handful of beans or an omelet, and it is golden onzas those others would have from me.”“If eggs are not too dear here we can pay,” said Appleby, with a laugh, and turned to see that Harper was glancing at him reproachfully.It was evident that the innkeeper saw him, too, for a little smile came into his eyes. “Then it is seldom so with the Sin Verguenza,” he said. “Doubtless your companion is one of them.”“Silver is scarce with the Sin Verguenza,” said Appleby. “Still, there are debts they pay with lead.”The innkeeper set food before them—beans and oil, an omelet, and a bottle of thin red wine from the Canaries. He also somewhat reluctantly produced a few cigars of a most excellent tobacco; and Harper sighed with pure content when he dropped into a big raw-hide chair when the meal was over.“Now I could ’most be happy if I knew when we would strike another place like this,” he said. “Still, it’s quite plain to me that we can’t stay here. There are too many cazadores prowling up and down this carretera.”It was equally evident to Appleby, but, crippled as he was he could find no answer to the question how he was to drag himself any farther, and he lay still, considering the chances of their being given a hidden bed in a forage loft, until there was a great clatter on the stones outside. Harper was on his feet in a moment, and sprang to the window grim in face, but once there he laughed.“Only a carriage with a man and a woman in it,” he said, “You let me do the talking if old yellow-face wants to turn us out of here. Anyway, if I go, what’s left of the wine goes with me.”To make sure of this he slipped the bottle into his pocket, and turned discreetly when the landlord came in.“By permission, gentlemen, I will show you another room,” he said.“This one will serve quite well,” said Harper in Castilian.The landlord concealed his impatience by a gesture of deprecation. “Comes a rich American and a lady,” he said. “These people are, it seems, fastidious, but they pay me well.”“An American,” said Harper condescendingly. “Well, we are equal there in my country, and I do not object to his company. You can show him in.”It was too late for the innkeeper to expostulate, for a man in white duck and a girl in a long white dress came into the room, while Appleby set his lips when he recognized the latter. He was ragged, dirty, and unkempt, while one shoe was horribly crusted, and it was very much against his wishes to encounter Nettie Harding a second time in much the same condition. Harper, however, appeared in no way disconcerted, and stepped forward, a dilapidated scarecrow, with the bottle neck projecting suggestively from his pocket.“Come right in, Mr. Harding,” he said. “It’s quite pleasant to meet a countryman in this forlorn land.”Harding smiled dryly, but his daughter turned to Appleby with a gleam of compassion in her eyes and held out her hand.“We are very glad to meet you, Mr. Broughton,” she said.Appleby felt grateful for the tactful kindness which restrained any sign of astonishment, but Harding laughed.“I never go back upon anything my daughter says, but I don’t know that I’m sorry we shall not be honored with the company of any more of the Sin Verguenza,” he said. “We have ordered comida, and should be pleased if you will sit down with us.”Appleby would have excused himself, but Harper broke in, “The Sin Verguenza have gone, and it’s not going to worry me if they never come back again. As to the other question, I can generally find a use for a dinner, and if my company’s any pleasure be glad to throw it in.”Appleby would have offered an explanation, but Harper silenced him by a gesture, and the landlord came in with the viands.“Bring more plates. These gentlemen will eat with me,” said Harding.The landlord appeared astonished, and stared at Harper with bewildered incredulity, until Nettie Harding, who was quick-witted, laughed, and the bronze grew deeper in Appleby’s cheeks. Harper, however, was by no means disconcerted.“Well,” he said naively, “out of compliment to your father I’ll worry through another one. You see, it may be quite a long while before we get a meal again.”They sat down, and while Appleby said very little Harding talked tactfully of England and America, and made no allusion to anything that concerned Cuba. Harper seconded him ably, for there was, as usual with his countrymen, no diffidence in him; and Appleby wondered whether there was any reason for Miss Harding’s curious little smile. Then when the fruit was removed Harding closed the door and took out his cigar case.“Take a smoke. Miss Harding does not mind!” he said.Appleby made excuses, but Harper laid the cigars the landlord had supplied them with on the table.“You’ll try one of these,” he said. “I think they’re good.”Harding lighted a cigar, and then it seemed to Appleby that a change came over his attitude, though he also fancied that Miss Harding had expected it.“They are,” he said. “You got them cheap?”There was no mistaking the significance of his tone, and Appleby straightened himself a trifle. Still, he felt he could not well rebuke the man whose dinner he had just eaten.“Isn’t that a little beyond the question, sir?” he asked quietly.“I don’t quite know that it is. I’m going to talk now, and it may save time and worry if I put it straight. What’s the matter with the Sin Verguenza?”“Busted!” said Harper. “Smashed up a company of cazadores, and lit out. Nobody’s going to worry over them.”“Which is why you are here?”“You’ve hit it right off,” said Harper.“If you feel inclined to tell me anything more I’ll listen.”Appleby, who resented the man’s tone as much as he was astonished at it, was about to observe that he felt no inclination to trespass further on his host’s patience, but he fancied there was a warning in Nettie Harding’s eyes, and Harper did not wait for him. He at once launched into an ornate account of the affray, and discreetly mentioned their present difficulties. Harding listened gravely, and then turned to Appleby.“I have a Spanish sugar grower to visit, and you will excuse me, but I would like to see you again before you leave the hotel,” he said. “Anyway, it wouldn’t be quite safe for you to take the road just now.”He went out with his daughter, and when they were in the patio the girl looked at him. “You have got to do something for them,” she said quietly.“Yes,” said Harding, with a little nod, “I am going to. As it happens, it will suit me.”It was an hour later when they came back, and as the light was fading Harding bade the landlord bring a lamp before he sat down, and turned to Appleby and Harper, who were somewhat anxiously waiting him.“You are scarcely likely to know anything about growing or crushing sugar, Mr. Broughton?” he said.“No, sir. Nothing whatever.”“Thank you!” said Harding, and glanced with a little smile at Harper. “I guess it’s not necessary to ask you.”“No,” said Harper tranquilly. “I know a little about anything there’s money in, and what I don’t I can learn. Bernardino’s going to show himself ’most as quick as me. It’s only modesty that’s wrong with him.”“Well,” said Harding dryly, “he’s an Englishman. Now, Mr. Broughton, in one sense your friend is right. Adaptability is the quality we most appreciate; and a good many men in my country, including myself, have made quite a pile out of businesses they knew very little about when they took hold of them. Well, I want a straight man, with good nerves and a cool head, to run a sugar estate for me. I don’t want him to cut the cane or oil the machinery—that will be done for him; but he will have to hold my interests safe, and see I’m not unduly squeezed by the gentlemen who keep order here. If he robs me on his own account he will probably hear of it. Are you willing to take hold on a six months’ trial?”“There is a difficulty.“Your partner? That got over, you would be willing?”“Yes,” said Appleby. “I should be devoutly thankful, too.”Harding turned to Harper. “I have a kind of notion I have seen you before. I don’t mean in Santa Marta.”“Oh yes,” said Harper, grinning. “You once had a deal with me. I ran you in a load of machinery without paying duty.”“You did. I fancied you would have had reasons for preferring not to remember it.”Harper laughed. “Now, it seems to me the fact that I came out ahead of Cyrus Harding ought to be a testimonial. I was fighting for my own hand then, but I never took anything I wasn’t entitled to from the man who hired me—at least, if I did I can’t remember it.”“Don’t try it again,” said Harding, with a little grim smile. “In this case, I think it would be risky. Well, I guess I can find a use for you too, but the putting you together increases the steepness of the chances you are taking. Does that strike you?”“Yes, sir,” said Appleby. “Still, I am afraid you must take both or neither.”Harding laughed. “Then I’ll show you the place and what your business will be before we argue about the salary. In the meanwhile here are five dollars. Go out and buy hats, but no clothing yet. We’ll get that later. Then walk out of the village, and wait for me out of sight along the carretera. You needn’t be bashful about taking the dollars. They will be deducted from your salary.”They went out and bought the hats, and had just time to spring clear of the road when two or three mounted officers trotted by. Five minutes later the officers pulled up at the hotel, and Harding, who met them in the patio, recognized Espada Morales in one who saluted him.“You have had a pleasant drive?” he said. “The Señorita Harding I trust is well?”Harding nodded, though he was not pleased to notice that the officer’s dark eyes wandered round the patio and as though in search of somebody.“She will be gratified to hear of your inquiry,” he said. “We are going back now, and there is a kindness you could do me. I am taking two new servants to the San Cristoval sugar mill, and you may have troops or pickets who would stop us on the road.”Morales tore a slip from a little pad he took from his pocket, scribbled across it, and handed it to Harding.“If you are questioned show them that,” he said. “When you desire any other service I am at your command.”Harding took the paper and told his driver to get the mules out, while ten minutes after he and his daughter left the hotel he bade the man pull up beside two figures standing in the road. They got into the carriage when he signed to them.“If you had waited a little longer you might have met Morales face to face, Mr. Broughton, and that foot of yours would probably have convicted a more innocent man,” he said. “As it is, I have a pass from him that will prevent anybody worrying you until we reach San Cristoval.”Then the driver flicked the mules, and they rolled swiftly forward into the soft darkness that now hid the cane and dimmed the long white road.
IT was almost cold and very still when Appleby looked out from his lair among the cane. Morning had not come but the clump of trees that had been a mere blur of shadow when he last awakened had grown into definite form, and rose black and solemn against the eastern sky. This was no longer dusky indigo, but of a softer color tinged with a faint pearly gray, while detached stalks of cane seemed to be growing into visibility. Then he stood up with a little shiver, his torn garments clinging about him wet with the dew, and became vaguely conscious that he was very uncomfortable. His limbs ached with weariness, and there was a distressful stiffness in his hip-joint which those who have slept on damp ground are acquainted with, while his foot throbbed painfully.
These sensations, however, vanished, and left him intent and alert, for a sound he recognized came quivering through the still, cool air. It was evident that Harper heard it also, for he rose stiffly, and his face showed faintly white as he turned in the direction of the carretera which ran through the cane some fifty yards away.
“Troops! It’s kind of fortunate we crawled in here,” he said.
Appleby nodded, for he had passed the greater part of six months hiding from the troops of Spain, and the tramp of marching men was unpleasantly familiar to him, while now, as it grew louder in a dull staccato, it seemed unusually portentous and sinister. The earth lay still and peaceful, wrapped in shadow, while the pearly grayness changed to a pale ruby gleam in the eastern sky; but that beat of human feet jarred dissonantly through nature’s harmonies.
It swelled in slow crescendo, a rhythm of desecration, while the thin jingle of steel and a confused rattling that had still a measured cadence also became audible. The two men who heard it sat very still among the cane, until Appleby, who was not usually a prey to apprehensive fancies, started at the clack of Harper’s rifle as he snapped down the lever and closed the breach again. The sound seemed to ring about them with a horrible distinctness.
“They seem in a hurry, and that’s quite fortunate for us,” said Harper. “Anyway, if they see us they’re not going to get me while there’s anything in the magazine. I’ve no use for being stood up with my hands tied against a wall.”
Appleby said nothing, but his brown fingers stiffened on the wet Marlin rifle, and Harper smiled in a somewhat sardonic fashion when he saw the glint in his half-closed eyes. Reticence is not accounted a virtue in his country, but the Englishman’s immobility was eloquent, and his comrade was satisfied that if the worst came they would not start out on the unknown trail alone. Then four by four dim figures swung out of the shadows, and the cane seemed to shiver in unison with their trampling as they went by with a forest of sloped rifles wavering above them. Here and there a mounted officer showed above the rest; while even when the leading fours were lost again in the shadows there seemed no end to them, and there was still no slackening in the sonorous beat of feet. At last, however, laden beasts appeared with men who straggled about them, then two or three more sections with rifles trailed; and Appleby drew in a deep breath when once more the gap between the cane was empty.
“There will be no room for the Sin Verguenza now, and nobody will be likely to take us in,” he said. “What is to be done, Harper?”
“Go to sleep!” said the American tranquilly. “I wouldn’t worry about the Sin Verguenza. Quite a few of them have picked up enough to retire on. I wish I hadn’t handed my haversack to black Domingo when I went back for you. That’s what’s troubling me.”
Appleby laughed, and rolled into the little hollow he had made for himself with the careless disregard of the future which is not infrequently the adventurer’s most valuable possession. He also slept soundly, and the sun was high when he awakened with a start to see a man looking down on him. He was dressed in unstarched linen, frayed but very clean, and a big straw hat, while he held a hoe and a basket in one hand, and stood regarding Appleby with grave curiosity.
“There is much sun to-day, señor,” he said.
Appleby shifted his hand from the rifle and laid it restrainingly on Harper, who staggered to his feet, for there was something that inspired him with confidence in the man’s dark eyes.
“Are there troops on the road?” he asked.
“No,” said the man. “None between here and Arucas. The señores are—”
“Friends of liberty!” and Harper grinned as he straightened himself and turned to Appleby. “Hadn’t you better tell him the question is where can two patriots get anything to eat?”
The man glanced at their haggard faces and torn garments, which were white with dust and clammy with dew.
“Ave Maria!” he said softly, and taking a small loaf from the basket broke it into two pieces. One he held out with a bottle of thin red wine, while he glanced at the other half of the loaf deprecatingly.
“One must eat to work,” he said, as if in explanation. “There is always work for the poor, and between the troops and the Sin Verguenza they have very little else here.”
A flush crept into Appleby’s forehead, and Harper pulled out a few pesetas, which was all he had, but the man shook his head.
“No, señor,” he said. “It is for the charity, and one cannot have the liberty for nothing. Still, there are many contributions one must make, and I cannot do more.”
Appleby, who understood the significance charity has in Spain, took the provisions and lifted his battered hat as the man turned away; but when he had taken a pace or two he came back again and dropped a little bundle of maize-husk cigarettes and a strip of cardboard matches beside them. Then, without a word, he plodded away down a little path while Harper looked at Appleby with wonder in his eyes.
“I guess there are men like him in every nation, though they’re often quite hard to find,” he said. “More style about him than a good many of our senators have at home. Well, we’ll have breakfast now, and then get on again.”
They ate the half loaf and drank the wine; but Harper looked grave when Appleby took off his shoe. His foot seemed badly swollen, but he desisted from an attempt to remove the torn and clotted stocking with a wry smile, and put on the shoe again. Then he limped out into the road and plodded painfully down it under the scorching sun all that morning without plan or purpose, though he knew that while it lay not far from Santa Marta the Insurgents had friends and sympathizers in the aldea of Arucas, which was somewhere in front of them. They met nobody. The road wound away before them empty as well as intolerably hot and dusty, though here and there a group of men at work in the fields stopped and stared at them; and they spent an hour making what Harper called a traverse round a white aldea they were not sure about. Then they lay down awhile in a ruined garden beside the carretera.
There was a nispero tree in the garden laden with acid yellow fruit, and Appleby ate the handful Harper brought him greedily, for he was slightly feverish and grimed with dust. Then they smoked the peasant’s maize-husk cigarettes and watched the purple lizards crawl about the fire-blackened ruins of the house. They could hear the rasp of machetes amidst the cane and the musical clink of hoes, while now and then a hum of voices reached them from the village; and once, with a great clatter, a mounted man in uniform went by.
Harper lay still, drowsily content to rest; but those sounds of human activity troubled Appleby. The men who made them had work to do, and a roof to shelter them when their toil was done, but he was drifting aimlessly as the red leaves he had watched from the foot-bridge one winter day in England. Tony stood beside him then, and he wondered vaguely what Tony was doing now—playing the part of gentleman steward to Godfrey Palliser with credit to himself and the good will of his uncle’s tenants, riding through English meadows, meeting men who were glad to welcome him in London clubs, or basking in the soft gleam of Violet Wayne’s eyes. It was the latter only that Appleby envied him; and he wondered whether Tony, who had so much, knew the full value of the love that had been given him as the crown of all, and then brushed the thoughts away when Harper rose.
“We have got to make Arucas by to-night, or lie out starving, which is a thing I have no use for,” he said. “It’s a long hustle.”
Appleby rose, and staggered as he placed his weight upon his injured foot, and then, while Harper laid a steadying hand on his shoulder, limped out into the carretera. It stretched away before them, white, and hot, and straight, with scarcely a flicker of shadow to relieve its blinding glare; and Appleby half closed his eyes, while the perspiration dripped from Harper’s face.
“And it’s quite often I’ve sworn I’d turn farmer and never go to sea again! Well, I guess there are more fools like me!”
Appleby had no observation to make, and they plodded on through a land of silence and intolerable heat. No Latin who can help it works at that hour of the afternoon, and peon and soldier alike lay where there was coolness and shadow wrapped in restful sleep. Only the two aliens crawled on with aching heads and dazzled eyes down the dusty road which rolled back interminably to their weary feet. The cane was no longer green to Appleby, but steeped in yellow glare, the dust gleamed incandescent white, and the sky seemed charged with an overwhelming radiancy.
Still, he limped on, dreaming, while each step cost him agony, of the brown woods at Northrop and the sheen of frost on the red brier leaves in the English lanes, for all that he had seen during that last eventful fortnight there flashed into his memory. He could recall the chill of the night air when he stood looking into the future from the face of the hill as he went to meet keeper Davidson; the sweep of velvet lawn, the song of the robin on the lime bough in the bracing cold of morning, and plainer than all the face of the woman he had made a promise to under the soft light in the conservatory. He did not know what that promise would cost him when he made it; but the woman had read his character, and was warranted in deciding that it would be kept.
No road, however, goes on interminably, and the white aldea of Arucas rose before them when the sun was low. They plodded into it, limping and stumbling over the slippery stones, and frightening the dark-eyed children with their grim faces; for there was a hum of life behind the lattices now, and a cooking of the comida in the patios and in front of the open doors. Harper sniffed hungrily—for the pungent odors of the dark green oil and garlic hung about the flat-topped houses—and finally halted before an archway leading into a shadowy patio. There was a legend above it.
“‘The Golden Fleece’!” he said. “Well, they’ll have some wine here, and I’ve got five pesetas.”
They went in, and when they limped into the guest chamber a man dressed in unstarched linen stared at them aghast.
“Madre de Dios!” he said.
He would apparently have backed away in consternation had not Harper, who slipped between him and the door, stood with his back to it; while Appleby spoke two words softly in Castilian. They were without connection and apparently meaningless, but they carried weight with those who had any hand in the insurrection, and the landlord sat down, evidently irresolute.
“Would you ruin me? The Sin Verguenza are scattered, and Espada Morales is not far away,” he said.
“Still,” said Appleby dryly, “they are not dead, my friend, and it is only those who are buried that never come back again.”
The innkeeper nodded, for the delicacy of the hint as well as the man’s accent were thoroughly Castilian.
“Well,” he said reflectively, “here one is ruined in any case, and what one gives to the friends of liberty Morales will not get. After all, it is but a handful of beans or an omelet, and it is golden onzas those others would have from me.”
“If eggs are not too dear here we can pay,” said Appleby, with a laugh, and turned to see that Harper was glancing at him reproachfully.
It was evident that the innkeeper saw him, too, for a little smile came into his eyes. “Then it is seldom so with the Sin Verguenza,” he said. “Doubtless your companion is one of them.”
“Silver is scarce with the Sin Verguenza,” said Appleby. “Still, there are debts they pay with lead.”
The innkeeper set food before them—beans and oil, an omelet, and a bottle of thin red wine from the Canaries. He also somewhat reluctantly produced a few cigars of a most excellent tobacco; and Harper sighed with pure content when he dropped into a big raw-hide chair when the meal was over.
“Now I could ’most be happy if I knew when we would strike another place like this,” he said. “Still, it’s quite plain to me that we can’t stay here. There are too many cazadores prowling up and down this carretera.”
It was equally evident to Appleby, but, crippled as he was he could find no answer to the question how he was to drag himself any farther, and he lay still, considering the chances of their being given a hidden bed in a forage loft, until there was a great clatter on the stones outside. Harper was on his feet in a moment, and sprang to the window grim in face, but once there he laughed.
“Only a carriage with a man and a woman in it,” he said, “You let me do the talking if old yellow-face wants to turn us out of here. Anyway, if I go, what’s left of the wine goes with me.”
To make sure of this he slipped the bottle into his pocket, and turned discreetly when the landlord came in.
“By permission, gentlemen, I will show you another room,” he said.
“This one will serve quite well,” said Harper in Castilian.
The landlord concealed his impatience by a gesture of deprecation. “Comes a rich American and a lady,” he said. “These people are, it seems, fastidious, but they pay me well.”
“An American,” said Harper condescendingly. “Well, we are equal there in my country, and I do not object to his company. You can show him in.”
It was too late for the innkeeper to expostulate, for a man in white duck and a girl in a long white dress came into the room, while Appleby set his lips when he recognized the latter. He was ragged, dirty, and unkempt, while one shoe was horribly crusted, and it was very much against his wishes to encounter Nettie Harding a second time in much the same condition. Harper, however, appeared in no way disconcerted, and stepped forward, a dilapidated scarecrow, with the bottle neck projecting suggestively from his pocket.
“Come right in, Mr. Harding,” he said. “It’s quite pleasant to meet a countryman in this forlorn land.”
Harding smiled dryly, but his daughter turned to Appleby with a gleam of compassion in her eyes and held out her hand.
“We are very glad to meet you, Mr. Broughton,” she said.
Appleby felt grateful for the tactful kindness which restrained any sign of astonishment, but Harding laughed.
“I never go back upon anything my daughter says, but I don’t know that I’m sorry we shall not be honored with the company of any more of the Sin Verguenza,” he said. “We have ordered comida, and should be pleased if you will sit down with us.”
Appleby would have excused himself, but Harper broke in, “The Sin Verguenza have gone, and it’s not going to worry me if they never come back again. As to the other question, I can generally find a use for a dinner, and if my company’s any pleasure be glad to throw it in.”
Appleby would have offered an explanation, but Harper silenced him by a gesture, and the landlord came in with the viands.
“Bring more plates. These gentlemen will eat with me,” said Harding.
The landlord appeared astonished, and stared at Harper with bewildered incredulity, until Nettie Harding, who was quick-witted, laughed, and the bronze grew deeper in Appleby’s cheeks. Harper, however, was by no means disconcerted.
“Well,” he said naively, “out of compliment to your father I’ll worry through another one. You see, it may be quite a long while before we get a meal again.”
They sat down, and while Appleby said very little Harding talked tactfully of England and America, and made no allusion to anything that concerned Cuba. Harper seconded him ably, for there was, as usual with his countrymen, no diffidence in him; and Appleby wondered whether there was any reason for Miss Harding’s curious little smile. Then when the fruit was removed Harding closed the door and took out his cigar case.
“Take a smoke. Miss Harding does not mind!” he said.
Appleby made excuses, but Harper laid the cigars the landlord had supplied them with on the table.
“You’ll try one of these,” he said. “I think they’re good.”
Harding lighted a cigar, and then it seemed to Appleby that a change came over his attitude, though he also fancied that Miss Harding had expected it.
“They are,” he said. “You got them cheap?”
There was no mistaking the significance of his tone, and Appleby straightened himself a trifle. Still, he felt he could not well rebuke the man whose dinner he had just eaten.
“Isn’t that a little beyond the question, sir?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t quite know that it is. I’m going to talk now, and it may save time and worry if I put it straight. What’s the matter with the Sin Verguenza?”
“Busted!” said Harper. “Smashed up a company of cazadores, and lit out. Nobody’s going to worry over them.”
“Which is why you are here?”
“You’ve hit it right off,” said Harper.
“If you feel inclined to tell me anything more I’ll listen.”
Appleby, who resented the man’s tone as much as he was astonished at it, was about to observe that he felt no inclination to trespass further on his host’s patience, but he fancied there was a warning in Nettie Harding’s eyes, and Harper did not wait for him. He at once launched into an ornate account of the affray, and discreetly mentioned their present difficulties. Harding listened gravely, and then turned to Appleby.
“I have a Spanish sugar grower to visit, and you will excuse me, but I would like to see you again before you leave the hotel,” he said. “Anyway, it wouldn’t be quite safe for you to take the road just now.”
He went out with his daughter, and when they were in the patio the girl looked at him. “You have got to do something for them,” she said quietly.
“Yes,” said Harding, with a little nod, “I am going to. As it happens, it will suit me.”
It was an hour later when they came back, and as the light was fading Harding bade the landlord bring a lamp before he sat down, and turned to Appleby and Harper, who were somewhat anxiously waiting him.
“You are scarcely likely to know anything about growing or crushing sugar, Mr. Broughton?” he said.
“No, sir. Nothing whatever.”
“Thank you!” said Harding, and glanced with a little smile at Harper. “I guess it’s not necessary to ask you.”
“No,” said Harper tranquilly. “I know a little about anything there’s money in, and what I don’t I can learn. Bernardino’s going to show himself ’most as quick as me. It’s only modesty that’s wrong with him.”
“Well,” said Harding dryly, “he’s an Englishman. Now, Mr. Broughton, in one sense your friend is right. Adaptability is the quality we most appreciate; and a good many men in my country, including myself, have made quite a pile out of businesses they knew very little about when they took hold of them. Well, I want a straight man, with good nerves and a cool head, to run a sugar estate for me. I don’t want him to cut the cane or oil the machinery—that will be done for him; but he will have to hold my interests safe, and see I’m not unduly squeezed by the gentlemen who keep order here. If he robs me on his own account he will probably hear of it. Are you willing to take hold on a six months’ trial?”
“There is a difficulty.
“Your partner? That got over, you would be willing?”
“Yes,” said Appleby. “I should be devoutly thankful, too.”
Harding turned to Harper. “I have a kind of notion I have seen you before. I don’t mean in Santa Marta.”
“Oh yes,” said Harper, grinning. “You once had a deal with me. I ran you in a load of machinery without paying duty.”
“You did. I fancied you would have had reasons for preferring not to remember it.”
Harper laughed. “Now, it seems to me the fact that I came out ahead of Cyrus Harding ought to be a testimonial. I was fighting for my own hand then, but I never took anything I wasn’t entitled to from the man who hired me—at least, if I did I can’t remember it.”
“Don’t try it again,” said Harding, with a little grim smile. “In this case, I think it would be risky. Well, I guess I can find a use for you too, but the putting you together increases the steepness of the chances you are taking. Does that strike you?”
“Yes, sir,” said Appleby. “Still, I am afraid you must take both or neither.”
Harding laughed. “Then I’ll show you the place and what your business will be before we argue about the salary. In the meanwhile here are five dollars. Go out and buy hats, but no clothing yet. We’ll get that later. Then walk out of the village, and wait for me out of sight along the carretera. You needn’t be bashful about taking the dollars. They will be deducted from your salary.”
They went out and bought the hats, and had just time to spring clear of the road when two or three mounted officers trotted by. Five minutes later the officers pulled up at the hotel, and Harding, who met them in the patio, recognized Espada Morales in one who saluted him.
“You have had a pleasant drive?” he said. “The Señorita Harding I trust is well?”
Harding nodded, though he was not pleased to notice that the officer’s dark eyes wandered round the patio and as though in search of somebody.
“She will be gratified to hear of your inquiry,” he said. “We are going back now, and there is a kindness you could do me. I am taking two new servants to the San Cristoval sugar mill, and you may have troops or pickets who would stop us on the road.”
Morales tore a slip from a little pad he took from his pocket, scribbled across it, and handed it to Harding.
“If you are questioned show them that,” he said. “When you desire any other service I am at your command.”
Harding took the paper and told his driver to get the mules out, while ten minutes after he and his daughter left the hotel he bade the man pull up beside two figures standing in the road. They got into the carriage when he signed to them.
“If you had waited a little longer you might have met Morales face to face, Mr. Broughton, and that foot of yours would probably have convicted a more innocent man,” he said. “As it is, I have a pass from him that will prevent anybody worrying you until we reach San Cristoval.”
Then the driver flicked the mules, and they rolled swiftly forward into the soft darkness that now hid the cane and dimmed the long white road.