CHAPTER XVII
With Seyd and his cargo of reflections aboard, the train meanwhilepuffed steadily up the four-per-cent. grades which carry the railwayeleven thousand feet high to the shoulder of the old giant volcano,Ajuasoa. While he stared out of the window the vivid panorama of the hotcountry, the green seas of corn or cane which surged around white-walledhaciendas, the chocolate peons behind their wooden plows, and the prettybrown girls at the stations gradually gave place to volcanic lava fieldsand gloomy woods of pinon, and these again merged into the innumerablehamlets which spread brown adobe skirts around Mexico City unseen byhim.
"She is coming back! She is coming back!" It ran all the while in hismind, and formed the undertone of his conversation with Don Luis in thepatio of the Iturbide that evening. When the old man stated hisintention of taking the night train down to the Gulf it was only by apowerful effort that Seyd avoided the lunacy of offering to accompanyhim. All that night he burned in a flame of feeling, and as aconsequence he rose tired out and presented such a picture of meeknesswhen ushered into the office of the general manager, one so opposite tothe usual fiery mien of the wronged shipper, that the stony heart of theofficial was melted within him.
"You certainly have a kick coming," he admitted. "A big one, at that.I'll look into this myself, and if you'll please return at four I hopeto have news of your freight."
In their passage down through the departments, however, his inquiriessoon came to a stop. "So this is the fellow who has been bucking oldGeneral Garcia in the Barranca de Guerrero?" he commented to his thirdassistant; and his further remarks were equally enlightening. "Well,politics are politics, but this has gone far enough. I like the boy'slooks, and this railroad isn't going to be used to fight the General'sbattles any longer. After this, Mr. Chauvez, see that Mr. Seyd gets hisfreight. Where is that last car?"
The third assistant's shoulders executed the Latin equivalent of "Searchme!" At last news, peon "brakies" on the Nacional had been using it as aroller coaster on the mountain grades going down to Monterey. IfProvidence had intervened before it ran off into the sea Mr. Chauvezopined that it would most likely be found on that city's wharves. All ofwhich, after some clicking and humming of wires, culminated in themanager's report to Seyd at four.
"It seems that your freight was switched by mistake over to Monterey.If you leave it to us"--his stern eye loosed a twinkle--"you'll probablyget it sometime in the next six months. But if you'll take these passesfor the evening train and hunt it up yourself you can have it taggedonto the train that leaves to-morrow night."
Though the vicissitudes of thirty years' railroading had almostpetrified his heart, the organ stirred faintly as Seyd returned heartythanks. Watching him go out, he even muttered: "It's a damned shame! ButI'll take care that he's bothered no more."
More grateful on his part than he had any legal right to be, Seyd wouldhave been better pleased had the passes read to Vera Cruz. Knowing thatFrancesca must pass through Mexico City on her way home, he would havepreferred even to stay where he was. But the thought of Billy frettinghimself thin at the mine reinforced his naturally strong sense of duty,and he took the train out that night. And his steadfastness made for hisgood. During his three days' absence the flame of feeling which wasconsuming his resolution and blinding his thought burned itself out. Themorning after he had seen his car billed through to his own station herose with his mind clear and a renewed purpose to do the right thing.
"At the first favorable opportunity I shall tell her," he told himself,in the coach going down to the station. With the thought strong in hismind he stepped on the train and--came face to face with Francescaherself.
"Oh! it is _you_!"
"I--I--thought you were already gone!"
While he blushed and stammered confusedly his senses, nevertheless, tookcognizance of the fluttering rush of her hands, the happy eyes in themidst of her flushes, other things that answered, without words, severalquestions which had greatly perplexed him. Whatever the cause behind herlong silence, it was neither the resurrection of her racial pride nor,as he had sometimes suspected, her discovery of his marriage. Indeed,her very next words gave him an inkling.
"You must have wondered why I did not write? But I--could not help it."She glanced at her mother, who, with eloquent hands, was telegraphinghim welcome from the other end of the car. "I will tell you later--all."
In his surprise and gladness his mind still clung to his resolve, and,nearly as possible, he kept his pact with himself. "I also havesomething to tell."
She looked up quickly. But his eyes indicated no diminution of the oldfeeling. Satisfied, she asked, with a little sigh: "The mine? Somethinggone wrong? You will tell us--now."
The senora, who had caught the last sentence, added her word. "_Si_, forwe, you know, are your friends." Making room for him by her side, shepunctuated his tale of the summer's mishaps with pitiful exclamations,and comforted him at the end with maternal solicitude. "_Si_, at thefirst glance I saw it, that you had suffered. But, courage, _amigo_, itwill make for your greater enjoyment in the end."
Francesca had taken the seat opposite, and, catching her eye just then,Seyd saw, along with the sympathy and understanding, a gleam ofexultation. "You suffered, _si_, but I'm glad for--'twas for me." Herglance said it plainly as words, and he ached to answer it; but, inaccordance with the honest course he had laid out for himself, herefrained, and went on talking to her mother.
"Don Luis," she answered his question, "is in the front car withSebastien--in attendance on our dear friend, his mother."
He knew that he had no part in their grief, and, tentatively, he began,"If I can be of any help--"
Divining his feeling from the pause, she answered at once: "You are verykind. Francesca, poor _nina_, has been under a great strain. 'Twill be amercy if you will stay here and talk."
Now that her first blushes had died, he could see it for himself. Hersmile added the soft confession, "You did not suffer alone."
Under her look Seyd felt his resolution weaken; to save it he looked outof the window, whereupon it gained strength from the thought of hisimpending confession. But it relaxed again the next time their glancesmet; and, as love is an anarchist who scoffs alike at law and death,their communications proceeded with alternate thawings and freezings,while, in reverse order, the black lava fields and gloomy pinon gaveplace to the painted hamlets, pink churches, and villages of huts ingreen seas of corn. Yet, if a little worse for wear, his resolutionheld. Indeed, it found definite expression when the train stopped atlast at their station.
"I must see you soon!" he said, as they went out. "I have something veryserious to say."
Once more she looked up quickly. "We shall be at El Quiss, Sebastien'splace, for three days. After that you will find me at home. But do notcome alone!" The hasty addition threw more light on the causes behindher sudden departure. "As you value your life--nay, you were alwayscareless of that--promise, for my sake, that you will not come alone?When you go out anywhere take with you at least one man."
"Is it so serious as that?" But he stopped laughing when he saw she washurt. "There! I promise!"
She paid him, alighting, with a clasp of her hand that left its softclinging pressure tingling after she disappeared in the crowd ofrancheros and hacendados, Sebastien's retainers and friends, who filledthe station. His sharp gray eye had already singled out his car on aside track, and while he waited for the agent Sebastien and Don Luispassed, walking behind the coffin.
He was seen, moreover, by them, and after they had mounted and wereriding side by side at the head of the funeral procession Sebastienspoke. "Your gringo was at the station."
Don Luis nodded. "_Si_, he came down on the train."
After a silence Sebastien spoke again. "It seems that he has been havingtrouble with his freight."
Ignoring the subtle suggestion conveyed by the accent, Don Luislaconically answered, "He is not the first."
"But will be the last. Ernestino Chauvez, my secon
d cousin, is in thedepartment of freights. Yesterday he told me that, by special order,there are to be no more miscarriages of this man's freight."
The heavy brown mask refused even a sign. "This had better happened ayear ago."
"Then he is near the end of his rope?" Sebastien leaped to theconclusion.
"His first note of hand to me is due next month."
"And--"
Don Luis's massive shoulders rose. "How should I know, _amigo_, whatmoney he has?"
"But if he pay not?"
Again Don Luis shrugged. "Sebastien, how often am I to tell it--that nogringo shall force in on my lands."
* * * * *
In happy ignorance as yet of the significance implied in theirconversation, Seyd at that moment was reading and rereading, withincredulous joy, a newspaper clipping which had been forwarded by afriend in Albuquerque.
MRS. ROBERT SEYD, WIFE OF PROMINENT MINING ENGINEER, GRANTED DIVORCE
The content below ran as is usual when feminine enthusiasm over itswrongs has been unchecked by fear of a reply, and in handing down hisdecision the local Dogberry--who was unaware that the notice of theplaintiff's remarriage would appear in the same issue with hisremarks--had pronounced it the most heartless case of desertion in allhis experience upon the bench. Reading a second clipping which set forththe marriage, Seyd indulged in a grin. But this quickly faded. Pity andsympathy colored his remark.
"Poor thing! I hope she'll be happy." Self reproach vibrated in theaddition, "She was not, never could have been, with me."
With that she passed out of his thought just as she had already gonefrom his life. His mind leaped to review the consequences. Free! Free!In the first flush of his joy he exulted over the fact that hisintended confession was now unnecessary. But later and more soberreflections caused him to shake his head.
"No!" He laid down the law peremptorily for himself. "There's beenenough and to spare of shilly-shallying. You will go to her and tellher--all! And if she refuses you there'll be no one to blame butyourself."
The Mystery of The Barranca Page 17
