CHAPTER II.
ALAS! FOR THE GAME THAT FAILED TO WORK.
Evidently Roderic Owen was disturbed by this meeting more than hewould have cared to confess. When ghosts that are supposed to havebeen laid for all time come back to haunt us, memory plays havoc withthe strongest resolutions. Owen lived again in the past--his earsseemed to drink in the music and merriment of the gay Spanish-Americancapital--he saw once more a face that had been enshrined in his heartas queen of the realm, and somehow the memory was not so unpleasant.Instead of groaning over the disasters of the past he found himselfunconsciously building new _chateaux d'Espagne_. Hope ever abides inthe human breast--though daily overthrown it rises again and again,Phœnix like from the ashes, and builds anew.
From the shadow of Trinity College and the Bank of Ireland, formerlythe Irish House of Parliament, it was but a short distance to hishotel, the luxurious Shelbourne.
Having once entered the caravansary he cast his eyes around as thoughseeking some one. A number of gentlemen lounged near the bookingoffices, while on the first landing of the wide stairs among palms andflowers ladies could be seen.
It was a bright picture, entirely foreign to the usual run oftransatlantic hotels to which Owen was accustomed.
A pair of bright eyes detected his arrival and a fair hand beckonedhim upward.
Time was of value to him, but when beauty demands attendance otherthings may wait, and he believed he could spare a few minutes at anyrate.
She was a remarkable young woman, this Cleopatra Fairfax, and few mencould have resisted her charms of person and fortune. True, in featuresshe could not be called beautiful, but her eyes were glorious blueones, her hair abundant and of a golden hue, while her skin was brownedby exposure to sun and wind, since M'lle Cleo was a confirmed golfplayer, a bicyclist, and a voyager over many seas. Her form at leastwas enough like that of Venus to set many a famous painter anxiousbecause his last models lacked those qualities which a lavish Naturehad showered so abundantly on this child of fortune.
This then was Cousin Cleo, an impulsive, warm-hearted girl, with thebetter qualities of both Irish and American ancestors in her veins.
Her mother had been an Owen, while on her father's side she came from along line of the famous Virginia Fairfax family. A better combinationit would be hard to imagine; and in this coming together of old and newworld blood lies the wonderful strength and marvelous ingenuity of theAmerican people.
Miss Fairfax traveled withersoever her sweet will prompted, alwaysaccompanied by a spinster chaperone. Perhaps it was an accident thatbrought her to Dublin and the Shelbourne at the same time the EnglishAmbassador's private agent took up his quarters there--these accidents,how often they happen, and how opportunely at times.
Besides the motherly chaperone, there was another in the party, agentleman who in physique and handsome features far outshone Roderic.
Of course this was Jerome Wellington, a man of the world, belongingto a good family and now of a mind to settle down after having sown amagnificent crop of wild oats.
Naturally when such a dasher thus resolves to give up his freedom, helooks around for a girl whose income will forever preclude any and allpossibility of his ever being compelled to live upon his wits again.
With ten millions more or less at her beck and nod, Miss Fairfax ofVirginia offered grand opportunities in this line, and accordingly theAdonis who had seldom known what it was to fail had sworn a mighty oaththat ere twelve moons had waxed and waned M'lle Cleo would have changedher name to the equally aristocratic one of Wellington.
Then he struck a snag.
He discovered that Cleo had since childhood cherished a deep andromantic fancy for Roderic Owen.
They had romped together, and as years fled the stalwart young manbecame her hero. She blindly adored him, and being so frank and open bynature, her secret was easily read by such an acute observer as Jerome,though the object of this affection had somehow never dreamed that hewas regarded in any other than a cousinly way.
If Jerome had a strong point of which he was particularly proud it washis connection with divers deep and dark plots. He regarded himself inthe light of a modern Machiavelli, and was never really happy unlessdabbling in mysterious affairs.
In his day he had been Carlist, Anarchist, Socialist, Nihilist andheaven knows what not.
Hence, it was to him a very insignificant matter to figure out how heshould wipe this interloper from his path. Bah! it was almost too easya task for one of his magnificent intellect, brightened by contact withthe greatest schemers of the world. However, the stake was a gloriousone, and even trifles must be carefully looked after if success isdesired.
So Jerome had set the machinery in motion which he expected wouldspeedily eliminate his rival from the field.
Unfortunately for himself he did not consider that he was now upagainst a man whom Nature had abundantly endowed with common sense andshrewdness, and who as a secret service officer in charge of matters ofstate had gained considerable praise from the Honorable Secretary atWashington under whose direction he labored.
Besides, Jerome's objections had undoubtedly been hitherto conductedagainst European wits, and he might find wide awake Yankee mindsconstructed on a somewhat different order.
Roderic chatted and laughed pleasantly for a little time, as though onthe best of terms with himself and every one else in the world.
Then, pleading business he tore himself away.
Now that his attention had been forcibly brought to bear upon thesubject he could not but note the blushes that mantled his cousin'sface upon his addressing any remark directly to her, and the look ofreproach she bestowed upon him when he left the gay party.
All of which gave him pain instead of pleasure.
The happiness of this cousin was of much moment in his eyes.
She had always laughingly declared her intention never to marrywhenever he broached the subject of the right cavalier coming along,and up to the present Roderic had been dense enough not to suspect thetruth.
It was just like a man at any rate.
But at the same time it reflected on his extreme modesty.
Jerome called out a joking farewell after him, which appeared harmlessenough, but with his knowledge of the man's evil intentions Roderic wasable to read between the lines and see the malevolence exposed.
"He laughs loudest who laughs last, my dear Jerome," he muttered ashe walked away from the hotel, "and it remains to be seen how yourgame comes out. Heretofore I have considered the man a mere every dayadventurer, attracted by the glitter of Cleo's gold, and believingshe knew how to handle such fellows without gloves, did not think itmy duty to interfere. Now that it begins to look more serious I findI shall be compelled to throw my castor into the ring, and take upcudgels in her defense. God bless her, a man could not well have astronger inspiration to do his level best. How the duse I have failedto fall head over heels in love with Cleo all these years I am at aloss to understand, yet somehow I have had an affection for the deargirl such as one entertains for a sister. Now my eyes are opened, andit is I fear quite too late. Destiny has already wrought out my futurefor good or evil."
He was thinking again of San Juan with its park, its glittering lights,its military music and the flash of many dark Spanish eyes.
Yes, Roderic was quite right.
It was too late!
He could never offer Cleo or any other woman the first passion ofhis heart, since that had gone out under the palms and flower scentedbowers of the Antilles to a daughter of Porto Rico.
He sighed as he relegated these things, both pleasant and painful, oncemore to oblivion, and again rallied his forces to grapple with the gameon hand.
Just around the corner he came across a man advancing toward the hotel,and whom he hailed.
"Well met, Darby--I was on the way to hunt you up, while you seemheaded for my quarters."
"Just so, sir," replied the other, who appeared a man of few words, andevidently one in whom Owen
placed much confidence.
"You complained recently of rusting--that everything seemed so dull anddead. As fortune has it I am now in a position to offer you a littleexcitement, and at the same time you may be of great service to me."
Darby nodded his head--he was a man of ice, whom nothing could excite,and yet to whom action was as the air he breathed.
Knowing the nature of the man so well, Owen struck directly into hisstory, and ere many minutes had flown the other was as well acquaintedwith the facts as himself.
One feature alone he repressed.
This was the attachment on Cleo's part for so unworthy an individual ashimself--that was too sacred to be given over as common property.
Darby would have to guess a reason for the hatred ofWellington--perhaps he might lay it to the Spanish sympathies of theother, which induced him to seek Dublin in order to have a hand in themysterious conference with pronounced Fenian leaders; or it might behis sagacity would suggest the only plausible explanation.
Thus the story was told.
"Quite a neat little affair," commented Darby.
"Will you take my place?" asked Owen.
The other's face showed no sign of emotion.
"Just so, sir."
"You may bring up in Monte Carlo or Hong Kong, with a fascinatingadventuress professing to be madly infatuated with you."
This time the faintest flicker of a smile appeared.
"A dreadful fate, truly, sir."
"Still you do not shrink from it, Darby?"
The Sphinx shrugged his shoulders.
"Duty is duty, sir. I shall play the cards to win."
"You are to represent me--for the time you will look and act and thinkas Roderic Owen."
"I leave it to you whether I am able."
"My dear fellow there is nothing you could not accomplish, if you setyour mind to it. I warrant that even Jerome will be deceived should hepersonally take a hand in the game of abduction."
"He will know the truth to-morrow when he meets you here?"
"True--and will be stunned, unable to comprehend the facts. Thus, youwill be at liberty to do as you please after once reaching Frenchterritory. You know how to find me again."
"Just so, sir. Is that all?"
"Only that I wish you the best of success," taking the cold hand of theSphinx and squeezing it.
There was actually a faint response.
And yet strange to say, this naturally reserved and passionless man wasso great an actor that when duty compelled he could imitate even themost hot-blooded Spanish wooer, and sue with song and story for a duskysenorita's love.
That was genius rising above nature, a carefully trained gift such asfew men possess.
"The hour grows late, and you will need some time to make yourpreparations, so there is no need of my detaining you longer. As tomoney--"
"I have more than enough, sir."
"Good. Besides, if you turn up at Monte Carlo you may have a chance toapply some of the tactics you once used in breaking a faro bank in NewOrleans. It would perhaps be rare sport to you for a change."
Again Darby showed the limit of his emotion, this time it being achuckle that escaped him.
"Then good-bye and good luck. Beware lest you fall in love with thecharmer, my boy. Such a Lurline may storm the ramparts of your flintyold heart, and once lodged therein, heaven help you."
"Just so, sir. I am too old a bird to be caught with chaff. I have beenthrough the mill. Don't waste any sympathy on Joel Darby, sir. But,there is an old acquaintance of yours here."
"Ah! who may that be--male or female?" for his mind instantly revertedto the girl from Porto Rico, and he wondered if Darby could have runacross her by chance.
"You once showed me a group picture of a very delightful scene in aWest Indian flower court, with the fountain and bird cages. Besidesyourself and a young Spanish captain there were a charming girl and anold hidalgo with a fierce beard and a mass of iron gray hair--a manonce seen never forgotten."
"Ah! Yes, General Porfidio de Brabant, the noblest Roman of them all,whose voice is like the thunder burst of his tropical home, and yet whoobeys _her_ slightest wish as meekly as a lamb."
"Just so--sweet Porfidio is in Dublin."
"I am not surprised, since I have reason to believe she is here. Infact the woman disguised as a Sister of the Holy Grail was Georgia, hisniece, and the girl in the picture."
Darby's thin lips gathered as though prepared to emit a whistle, forlike a flash he comprehended a very important matter in connection withhis employer; but his will got the better of his inclination and notthe faintest sound followed.
"More than this, sir, I am afraid he has some connection with thesereckless schemers you have come here to watch."
"It would not surprise me--the senor general is of Spanish descent anddoubtless loves the institutions of Spain, so that with his generousand ardent nature he is ready to risk all he has in order to help thewretched mother country in her great hour of need. It does not matter,since they will accomplish nothing here. These Irish plotters aremaster masons in the art of promising much and having some one elsepull their chestnuts from the fire. Still, it is our duty to know themany strings perfidious Spain has to her bow."
"Just so, sir. I am going now."
"My blessing go with you, Darby. I shall anticipate a rich and racystory when we twain meet again. Meanwhile, again farewell."
When he stood alone Roderic heard a clock in a not distant belfry chimethe hour.
"Eleven--plenty of time for a man of his superior intelligence toaccomplish it all. By Jove! I would like to see the result. I wouldwager he does it to the queen's taste, and that with two Richmonds inthe field Warwick or Jerome or any other man would find it hard totell the genuine from the artificial. Reminds me of Shakespeare's twoDromios. Well, there's nothing for me to do but take it quietly untilmorning, when I'll give my noble duke a run for his money. Ye gods, Ican imagine his amazement. But he is not the man to let one failuredaunt him. I rather imagine we two may yet face each other with swordor pistol in hand. That, gives me little concern just now, however muchit may later on. All seems quiet around the hotel, so I presume thecoast is clear."
He found no difficulty in gaining his apartment unobserved, and thereproceeded to woo the gentle goddess of sleep.
A methodical man, he was able to awaken at just the hour he desired.
Perhaps a somewhat superficial knowledge of Wellington's usual habitsguided him in this matter quite as much as his own desires.
An observation convinced him that the day had broken fair andsingularly cool, so that all nature appeared to rejoice.
He dressed with perhaps a little more care than ordinary and stoodbefore the glass arranging the ends of his four-in-hand.
"I wonder if her eyes still glow with their old intoxicating light?" hemuttered.
From which one might readily imagine the dreams that had accompaniedhis slumber must have dealt more or less with the owner of thoseheavenly orbs.
"And I kissed her hand again as of yore. Jove! how it thrilled me.Did that kiss wipe out the past--is it possible for us both to forgiveand again be more than friends? The very thought gives my heart hope.And yet what a fool I am to forget--those magnificent rings--perhapsone or more of them came from the bolero dancer, the dashing Julio whotook San Juan hearts by storm. Heaven only knows--in my mad jealousyI accused her of encouraging his attentions. Perhaps I was wrong, andagain I may have been right, for I never heard more of either after Ishook the red dust of San Juan from my feet. She may have wedded him,and now be wife or widow. Ugh! to the devil with such thoughts. Now togive dear old Jerome a shake up he will never forget."
The idea afforded him some pleasure--at least it banished that otherhideous nightmare.
Wife or widow were the words he did not care to hear used in connectionwith the owner of those magnificent midnight orbs.
Jerome breakfasted at eight o'clock.
He was clockwork itself in reg
ularity, no matter where or under whatconditions he spent the night, and when Roderic glanced into thebreakfast room there was his victim busily engaged, his back to thedoor.
Jerome was something of a gourmand, and had a really remarkablefondness for all the good things that tickle the palate and appeal toa cultivated taste. He knew the value of every wine on the list, andcould distinguish various brands of champagne with his eyes closed,for, tell it not in Gath, Jerome had once upon a time been reduced tomaking an honest livelihood as an expert wine taster.
Owen sauntered into the almost deserted room, and came up behind thedashing Adonis.
"Good morning, Wellington," he said briskly, as he dropped into a chairjust across from Jerome.
The latter started to make a civil reply, but when his eyes fastenedupon Roderic's face he turned as red as a boiled lobster and splutteredout:
"Owen still here in Dublin by all the saints!"
Miss Fairfax of Virginia: A Romance of Love and Adventure Under the Palmettos Page 2
