The Dust of Conflict

by Harold Bindloss

  XXXI -- STRUCK OFF THE ROLL

  IT was with difficulty a handful of the Sin Verguenza cleared a way forTony's bearers through the clamorous mob below, and an hour had passedwhen Appleby, who had seen his comrade safely bestowed there, came out,grave in face, from the Spanish banker's house. The doctor Maccario senthad, it was evident, no great hope of his patient's recovery, though heinsisted that he should be left in quietness.

  A messenger from Maccario was waiting when Appleby reached the patio,and it was a relief to find that he had in the meanwhile work to do.Still, he stood almost a minute blinking about him with eyes that weredazzled by the change from the dimness of the hot room behind the closedlattices where Tony lay. The patio was flooded with glaring sunlight,and a confused din rose from every corner of Santa Marta. The hot wallsflung back the tramp of feet and the exultant vivas of the mob, whilefrom the tall church towers the clash of jangling bells rang across thetown drowning the occasional crackle of riflery, for it was evident thatscattered handfuls of the cazadores were fighting still.

  Then the brown-faced man beside him made a little gesture of impatiencewhen there was a crash of firing louder than the rest.

  "Those cazadores are obstinate, and Don Maccario waits," he said.

  Appleby went with him vacantly, for now the strain had slackened he feltlimp and his thoughts were in a whirl. Tony, it seemed, was dying, andthe almost brotherly affection Appleby had once cherished for hiscomrade came back to him. As yet he could only realize the one painfulfact with a poignant sense of regret.

  Maccario, however, had work waiting him, and the day dragged through,though Appleby never remembered clearly all that happened during it. Itwas noon when they had cleared the town of the last of the cazadores,and bestowed those who had the wisdom to yield themselves in thecuartel. The rest leapt to destruction from windows and roofs, or wentdown, grimly clenching their hot rifles, in barricaded patios and onslippery stairways. Appleby was thankful when the work was done, thoughhe had taken no part in it for Maccario, with a wisdom his comrade hadnot expected, bade him organize a guard, and see that there was nopurposeless destruction of property. It was not, he said, a foray theSin Verguenza had made, but an occupation they had effected, and therewas nothing to be gained by pushing the wealthy loyalists todesperation. He also observed dryly that their dollars might fail toreach the insurgent treasury at all if collected independently by therank and file.

  The task was more to Appleby's liking than the one he had anticipated,and it was necessary, since the smaller merchants in Cuba and also inparts of Peninsular Spain have no great confidence in bankers, andprefer a packet of golden onzas or a bag of pesetas to the bestaccredited check. He also contrived to accomplish it with success,somewhat to the astonishment of those whose property he secured to them,when they found he demanded nothing for himself, while he fancied therewas reason in his companion's observation as they went back to report toMaccario when there was quietness in the town. Harper sighed as theycame out of the last loyalist's house.

  "I guess Maccario knew what he was about when he sent you to see thiscontract through," he said.

  "Well," said Appleby, "it was a trifle more pleasant than turning outthe cazadores."

  Harper grinned somewhat ruefully. "That's not quite what I mean. Any oneelse with our opportunities would have been rich for life. Now, youdidn't seem to notice the diamond brooch the senora took out from herlaces when she asked you to keep the rabble out of the house. It wouldhave brought two hundred dollars in New York."

  Appleby looked at him with a little dry smile. "I have asked you noquestions, but your pockets are suspiciously bulky."

  "Cigars," said Harper disgustedly, pulling out a handful.

  "Worth a dollar a piece in my country by the smell of them, but I'm notsetting up a tobacco store! If I ever get hold of another contract ofthis kind I'll take somebody else along."

  Appleby laughed a little, but his face grew grave again as they turnedtowards the banker's house to inquire how Tony was progressing. Therewas no change, they were told, but the doctor, who was busy elsewhere,had left imperative instructions that no one was to see him.

  Appleby was glad he had little leisure for reflection during the rest ofthe day, which was passed in strenuous activity. There were defences tobe improvised, and ambulance corps to organize, barricades built, andmen driven to their posts from the wine-shops, for Candotto'sPeninsulares would shortly arrive. They never came, however, but insteadof them two hundred dusty men with rifles from Brena Abajo marched in,and a horde of peons from every aldea in the vicinity armed with stavesand machetes followed them when dusk was closing down. Then once morethe bells clashed exultantly above the clamorous town.

  The soft darkness had descended upon Santa Marta, and there wasquietness again, when Appleby and Harper took their places at thebanquet in the Alcalde's house where Maccario had decided he wouldestablish the provisional administration. The great room blazed withlight, the tables were piled with such luxuries as could be found in thecity, fruits and flasks of wine, and Appleby, who was seated atMaccario's right hand, gazed with a vague interest down the long rows offaces. They were exultant, eager, inscrutable, and anxious, for theloyalist citizens had evidently considered it advisable to comply withthe leader of the Sin Verguenza's invitation.

  Maccario was now dressed immaculately, and the handful of loyalists withCastilian taste and precision, but there were also men with the grime ofconflict still upon their brown faces, and garments foul with smoke anddust. It seemed to Appleby that he would never again sit down with soincongruous a company. At last, when all had eaten or made a pretence ofit, there was a curious stillness as Maccario stood up at the head ofthe table. Every eye was turned upon him, and the olive-tinted facesgrew intent, for among those who watched him were men who knew thattheir ruin or prosperity depended upon what he had to say.

  "What we have accomplished to-day will last," he said "The flag of Spainwill never float over Santa Marta again."

  There was a murmur from the Sin Verguenza, and Appleby saw the faces ofone or two of the loyalists harden, while the rest grew anxious.Maccario, however, smiled as he proceeded.

  "A wise man yields to the inevitable," he said. "The Sin Verguenza holdthis town, and you have seen that from here to the mountains the countryhas declared for liberty. Men are flocking in, and there are rifles toarm the battalions we are raising in the cuartel. War with the Americansis now certain, and there can be only one result of that war, myfriends, while Santa Marta stands alone, a place of no importance to theSpanish generals, who will be too busy to trouble about what happensthere. Now you comprehend the position."

  He stopped, and it was evident that none of the loyalists couldcontrovert him, though one rose to his feet.

  "It is admitted, senor," he said gravely. "What follows?"

  "That," said Maccario, "is for you and the others to decide. Martial lawthat will grind those who rebel against it into the dust, or, I think,prosperity, with due submission to a provisional administration. You seebefore you the head of it, and, at least, there will not be anarchywhile he has two or three strong battalions to do his bidding. In themeanwhile the direction of affairs will be placed in the hands of tenmen. Five will be nominated by myself, and I will ask your Alcalde tosummon four others when he has consulted the wishes of the citizens."

  There was a murmur of relief and astonishment, for this was apparentlythe last thing the loyalists had expected, while Appleby, who glanced atMaccario, was sensible of a slight embarrassment, when he saw the littledry smile on his comrade's face. The leader of the Sin Verguenza had, itseemed, guessed his thoughts, and he was glad when the Alcalde, a gray-haired, courtly man, stood up.

  "It is not what we looked for, senor, and on behalf of Santa Marta youhave our gratitude," he said. "Still, while others may be willing, I, atleast, can hold no office under an insurgent usurpation."

  There was an angry murmur from the Sin Verguenza, but the Alcalde stoodvery erect, ga
zing at them disdainfully, and Maccario raised his hand.

  "The Alcalde is, I think, scarcely wise, but he is a loyal gentleman,"he said. "We will pass over him. The Senor Sanchez who, I am told, isregarded with respect in Santa Marta, will, perhaps, recommend fivecitizens of integrity."

  A slight, olive-faced gentleman in white duck stood up. "Since we havebeen beaten I agree," he said. "One has, however, questions to ask.There will be an amnesty to those who have supported Morales, and theirpossessions will be made secure to them?"

  A little grim twinkle crept into Maccario's eyes. "Every citizen ofmeans will be required to contribute to the equipment of the newbattalions to be raised and the cost of administration, in proportion tohis income, as the council shall decide. If there are any who desire toshow their contrition for past hostility by being generous now they willhave an opportunity. There are also one or two to whom such a course isrecommended."

  More than one of the company glanced at his neighbor uneasily, but theman who had spoken turned to Maccario with a little expressive gesture."Then I will go now to consult with and spread the good news among thecitizens," he said.

  Maccario laughed softly. "They will no doubt be astonished. To them theSin Verguenza have been as wolves, but that was the fault of Morales,who made them so. Now they are the bloodhounds who, while the householdsleep in peace, keep watch in the patio. Still, the bloodhound is abeast that one would do well to beware of, my friend. Well, I will notkeep the gentlemen who have honored us with their company, but there isa toast to drink, and you who have made plantations and builtwarehouses, and we who have marched and fought, can join in it equally.To the prosperity of Cuba!"

  The men rose as one, the loyalists with evident relief that nothing morehad been asked of them, and as they swung, up their glasses the buildingrang with the shout.

  Then in the silence that followed the Alcalde filled his glass again.

  "And," he said, "to Spain!"

  Maccario made him a little ceremonious inclination. "Senor," he said,"with ten such men on the council one would have no fear concerning theprosperity of Santa Marta."

  Then the citizens went out, and Maccario smiled as he turned to Appleby.

  "It seems that the time of the friends of liberty has come," he said."There will no doubt be preferment for those who have fought well, butthe promise you made us was to hold only until Santa Marta had fallen."

  Appleby was almost astonished to find himself troubled by a keen senseof regret. "I take it back," he said quietly. "You will now find plentyof other men willing to take my place with the Sin Verguenza."

  "It is likely, but none that one could trust so well. Still, you willnot be hasty. It is a good life, Bernardino--ours of the march andbivouac. Would you be happier counting the dollars in American citiesthan watching the Cuban highways or lying on the hillsides by the redfires? To gain one thing one must always give up another, and would notsuch a man as you are prefer to decide the fate of cities and battalionsthan haggle over a bargain? It is command, the stress of effort, and theuntrammelled joy of life, sunshine, and wine, we offer you, while onelives in bonds and sadly in your Northern cities."

  Appleby sighed a little, for the temptation was alluring, but he knewthe shadowy side of the life the Sin Verguenza led, and he kept hishead.

  "I have made my decision, and the Senor Harding waits for me," he said.

  Maccario smiled. "Then I shall gain nothing by objecting. After all, itis of no great importance whether a man trades as a merchant or fightsas a soldier. That will be as fate arranges it for him. He is born whathe is."

  "The Senor Appleby will leave us?" asked one of the men.

  "Yes," said Maccario, who stood up, "when it pleases him, and I think itis scarcely likely we shall sit at meat with him again. You will pledgea faithful comrade and a valiant soldier, without whom we might neverhave been the masters of Santa Marta."

  The men were on their feet in a moment, and Appleby felt his heart throbas he glanced down the long row of faces. Many were still grimed withdust, and the brown hands that held the glasses stained with the blackfouling from the rifles, but there was no mistaking the good will in thedark eyes. Then the glasses went up with a shout that filled the greatroom and rang out through the open windows across the silent town, andAppleby, who never remembered what he said, found himself speakinghoarsely.

  He sat down while the shouting broke out again, and saw a man in thedoorway signing to him.

  "The Senor Palliser is permitted to see you. It is recommended that youlose no time," he said when there was silence.

  Maccario laid his hand sympathetically upon Appleby's arm. "It is wellto be prepared," he said. "I am afraid that by to-morrow there will beanother of your countrymen struck off the roll of the Sin Verguenza."

  Appleby rose and followed the man with his heart beating painfully, andit was only by an effort he retained his tranquillity when he was ledinto a room in the banker's house where a lamp was burning. Its flameflickered in the draught, for the lattices were open wide, but it showedthe drawn white face that was turned expectantly towards the door.

  "I am glad you have come," said the wounded man. "I don't think Irealized what was going to happen, or where I was, until an hour ago,and then I was horribly afraid the man wouldn't find you. You see, Idon't suppose there's more than another hour or two left me now."

  Appleby set his lips as he glanced down at the white face, and felt thatthis was true. Then his eyes grew a trifle dim as he laid his hand onTony's arm.

  "Why," he said hoarsely, "did I ever let you go?"

  Tony smiled. "There is no necessity to reproach yourself. You know justas well as I do that you could not have stopped me, and I'm not surethat after all I'm very sorry. There is nobody who will not get on justas well without me."

  "You are wrong. There is not a man at Northrop who will not feel theblow--and there is Violet."

  Tony's fingers seemed to quiver. "Still!" he said very slowly, "I thinkshe will get over it."

  Appleby said nothing for a few moments, for there was something he couldnot understand in his comrade's face Then he said softly, "How did ithappen, Tony?"

  Tony shook his head. "I can't quite remember. I saw that cazador withthe bayonet, and went for him with the butt," he said. "The only thing Iam sure about is that he got me instead."

  Appleby gasped as the vague memories of the struggle on the veranda grewclearer. "Tony, you thrust yourself in between him and me?"

  Tony smiled a little. "Well," he said slowly, "it seemed even chancesthat I could reach him with the butt, and I owed you a good deal, yousee."

  Appleby clenched one hand, and turned his face away, and there was for afull minute silence in the dimly lighted room while he looked outthrough the square of open casement at the dusky blueness of the night.Then through the hum of voices in the street below there came a rhythmictramp of feet and a thin jingle of steel, while as it grew louder theglare of waving torches shone into the room. Tony watched it flickerupon the wall.

  "What is going on?" he said.

  "They are carrying Morales to his burial," said Appleby. "Maccario hassent a half-company of the Sin Verguenza."

  Tony smiled curiously. "That man has good taste. I liked him," he said."Well, there is one of the Sin Verguenza who will never march again. Iwonder if you remember that two of our family once fought with theLegitimatists in Spain. Still, I think they would have looked down uponthe Sin Verguenza."

  Again Appleby, struggling with tense emotion, found words failed him,and sat silent until Tony laid his hand on his.

  "It might have been better if I had never fallen in love with Violet,"he said.

  "Why?" said Appleby, who fancied that Tony was watching him curiously."She was in love with you."

  "I think not," and Tony feebly shook his head. "It isn't necessary todiscuss that again."

  He stopped with a little shiver, and Appleby's fingers closed tightly onhis hand.

  "If I could only bring y
ou back to her you would find out how mistakenyou are."

  "That is evidently out of the question. Nobody could, and I think if alittle longer life had been granted me I would have tried to give herup. I know now that she would never have been happy with me. Still, youwill tell her, Bernard--what has happened to me."

  Appleby only pressed his hand, and it was a minute or two later whenTony spoke again.

  "There is one man who would please Violet--and I don't think I wouldmind," he said.

  Again Appleby felt the blood in his forehead. "She never thought of me,and I have nothing to offer her," he said.

  "No," said Tony with a visible effort. "Still, I think, Bernard--if yousaw much of her she would. You have both done a good deal for me."

  He stopped with a gasp, and seemed to sink into sleep or partial stupor,while Appleby sat very still listening to the voices in the street belowwhile half an hour dragged by. Then Tony opened his eyes, and lookedabout him vacantly.

  "I think I've been dreaming, and that song Hester was fond of is runningin my head," he said. "The one about the gates--it got hold of my fancy--Ithink they were of precious stones. She and Violet were out on the lawnof Low Wood--where you look down into the valley, you know--and Nettie wastrying to convince the vicar those gates could be stormed. There wassomething I couldn't quite understand about the marble knight inNorthrop church."

  Appleby saw that Tony's thoughts were wandering.

  "Of course!" he said soothingly, though his voice was strained. "Iwouldn't worry about it, Tony."

  Tony looked at him as though he scarcely recognized him, and smiled.

  "I think you're wrong, and perhaps it isn't necessary. That song isjingling in my head again. 'If you but touch with your finger tips thoseivory gates and golden.' It sounds easy," he said.

  His head sank back on the pillow, and for five long minutes there wassilence in the room. Then Tony sighed, and his fingers closed feebly onAppleby's hand.

  "It's very hot in the sun here, and it was yesterday when I had a meal,"he said. "Still, I shall find Bernard. Now they're marching on SantaMarta in open fours. They're going in--nothing could stop the SinVerguenza--but you can't open those gates with a volley. It isn'tnecessary."

  He said nothing more, and when another half-hour had dragged by Applebyrose, and with gentle force drew his hand away. Then he went out,shivering a little and treading softly, for he knew that the soul ofTony Palliser, who had sinned and made such reparation as was permittedhim, was knocking at the gates which are made of precious stones.