The Ghost Breaker: A Novel Based Upon the Play
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VI
OVER THE SEA AND FAR AWAY
That journey to the _Mauretania_ was never to be forgotten by WarrenJarvis; and yet so weird, bruising, jumbling, and altogether horriblewas it, that he could never distinctly remember its details.
With hands stretched tensely against the corners of the trunk, hewarded off as best he could the shocks of the skilled baggage-breakersalong the route. Again and again, an unexpected twist would bang histhrobbing head against the adamantine sides, and with a wince, a sharp,in-drawn breath, he would hold himself "together" for one more bump!
The air was stifling; yet the foresight of cutting the holes gave himenough oxygen to maintain his senses. At last, after aeons of sufferingwhich reminded him of nothing so much as his initiation into thecollege fraternity, he felt himself being dragged up the side of thegreat ocean greyhound.
More jolts, more rolls and bangs, and at last, with muscles wrenched, aswollen forehead and nerves aquiver, there was rest.
"I'm in her cabin at last--and now for a graceful exit!" he toldhimself, with an enforced jocularity. But this was no easy task. Hespent a full half-hour, working and prying with the shears against thelock which imprisoned him with indomitable force from the outside ofthe iron-and-leathern prison.
Upon the outer deck of the great turbiner, the Princess nervouslyfought her way through the great throng of voyagers and their friends.Nita was close by her side. It seemed impossible to capture a stewardwho was not busy with the bearing of bouquets and wine baskets. Inother circumstances this young personage would have been furious at thelack of respect which she had been educated to expect from the throngsof her own country.
But to-day her only anxiety was to find her elusive quarters for thestrange cruise, to learn whether or not her new knight-errant werealive or dead from the rigors of his escape.
At last, with the aid of an extravagant _largesse_, she was conductedto her staterooms.
As she entered the parlor of her luxurious suite, the first sight whichcaught her eye was the trunk, inverted! The printed sign of direction,"This End up with Care," were upside down!
She gasped, and looked nervously about to note the expression upon theface of Nita. That young woman was busy studying the handsome featuresof the ingratiating bedroom-steward. So engrossed was she that shestumbled over the elevated sill of the door from the promenade deck.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, miss!" apologized the steward. "Did you hurtyourself? These doors are always troublesome until you get used tothem. But they are necessary to keep out the water in rough weather."
The Princess was thinking only of the opportunity to open the fatefultrunk.
"You don't anticipate a bad passage, steward?"
"Rather uncertain, ma'am, at this time of the year," and he busiedhimself adjusting the hand luggage and arranging the chairs. "But yourlocation is good. You'll find the _Mauretania_ as steady as a parishchurch. Here is the clothes press, ma'am, and the other rooms are offthere. It's quite the finest suite on the boat, ma'am."
The steward looked about ingratiatingly, then he turned toward thedoor.
"If you want anything, ma'am--there is the telephone.... I'll placeyour trunk, if you please, ma'am!"
He started to drag the trunk to the side of the cabin, but the Princessintervened.
"That's all right; you may place it later. But you _might_ fix it rightside up!"
The steward turned it, as the girl breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm so sorry, ma'am. I hope the contents are not upset."
"I hope not."
"Anything else, ma'am?"
"No, not now, steward? How soon do we sail?"
"Very soon," and as he spoke there came the stentorian warning: "Allashore that's going ashore!" The call was repeated four times, and thevoice died away in the distance of the long promenade deck.
With a bow, and a significant glance at the attractive maid, thesteward finally dragged himself out of the attractive cabin. ThePrincess sank nervously into a chair.
"That is all, now, Nita. I have the key to the trunk. I will call youwhen I need you."
"Yes, your Highness. But, will your Highness excuse me if I am mistakenin thinking that I recognized his Excellency the Duke, your exaltedcousin, among the passengers as we came up the gangplank...?"
Her Highness was distinctly startled, but she showed no trace of heremotion to the servant.
"My cousin--it is impossible. He is at Madrid, where his Majesty theKing is holding Court."
"Yes, your Highness," and she went, but her inflection showed that sheknew herself to be in the right. Nita was too good a servant to arguewith her betters.
"Carlos here? How could he be, I wonder?" and the Princess fumbled withher keys, until she found the right one. She opened the trunk with atrembling hand, and began to raise the cover, a quiver in her voice.
"Are you all right ... Mr. Jarvis?"
It was the voice of a nervous, frightened girl--not of a royalpersonage--this time.
Just then she heard a knock on the cabin door. There was no time for aresponse. "Quiet! Be careful!" she cautioned, _sotto voce_.
As she hurried to the door, she pulled her taut nerves together. Thereon the threshold was her kinsman: Nita had been right as usual, in hersharp way.
Carlos, Duke of Alva, with smiling lips and sinister eyes, greeted herwith the suave courtesy which is so characteristic of his race andclass. He typified the worst of the Spanish folk, even as the younggirl did the best. To a keen student of physiognomy the mental attitudeof the Duke of Alva would have been an open book. To Maria Theresa,loyal to family and countrymen, he was the symbol of her own strata inSpain--yet, beneath her gracious forgiveness of and enforcedindifference to many things, there lurked a latent mistrust, which shehad never yet defined in practical, applicable terms.
With white teeth, crisp-curling black hair, and eyes of sparklingcoal-shade, the Duke of Alva bowed with that polished grace which hadbroken many a heart and carried him over many a stretch of thin ice, inthe courtly adventuring on the Continent.
"Carlos!" exclaimed the Princess.
"Fair cousin--if I but knew you were as pleased, as you are surprised,at seeing me!" With the words he advanced and kissed her coldfinger-tips with Old-World punctiliousness.
"What are you doing on the _Mauretania_? Why did you leave Spain,Carlos?"
As he shut the door he smiled, and now her intuition warned her of thecunning which lurked behind those pleasantly curving lips.
"First tell me that you are glad to see me! I have come many leagues tohear those words, Maria!"
"Why.... Why,... of course, I am always glad to see you, cousin."
He simulated a pathetic irony. "You say you are always glad to seeme--and yet, I fear it is not _always_ since my unfortunate quarrelwith your brother. Alas, and that has hardened your heart against me."
The Duke was a suitor of the romantic school: each phrase was studied,each attitude as obviously planned as a military campaign. It was amethod which had invariably succeeded, until his efforts with thePrincess of Aragon. Yet, he was too satisfied with bygone results toabandon the time-tried artistries of former victories.
The Princess dropped her eyes before the undeniable questioning of hisburning glances. As she looked away, he assured himself that he hadscored.
"My brother ... what do you know of him, Carlos? When did you see himlast? Have you been in Seguro?"
Two long whistles, and the vibration of the great steamship evidencedthe beginning of the long voyage. The answer to the questions was stillmore pathetic in cadence.
"Ah, how I dread telling you!... I was there a few days before leavingfor America. I learned, unfortunately, that despite my very friendlyadvice, he had been prowling about that ridiculous old castle again, insearch of the mythical treasure your grandfather is supposed to havesecreted there."
He laughed, and the girl instinctively shuddered with a newborndistrust. There was no mirth in the sound.
&nb
sp; "You heard nothing more? Was he well and safe when you left the town?"
"He was as well and safe as I would consider any man who was prowlingabout that castle in a foolhardy way."
She wished to get rid of him: that ominous trunk might contain a deadman, for all she knew.
"How did you find me? Why did you come to America?"
"What could have brought me here but love and anxiety for you?"
She turned away impatiently and walked toward the cabin porthole.
"Oh, come, Carlos. The ship is almost in mid-stream. Let us go out ondeck, for one last look at America."
"Thank you; I can do very well without it!" he retorted, as he sat downupon the trunk. "My dear Maria, why do you not desist from this sillypursuit of an imaginary treasure? What is the value of money--we areSpaniards, not shirt-sleeved, mercenary pigs of Americans! We strivefor it, only to obtain the happiness and luxury which it brings. Can itbring any greater happiness than that which I have so many times laidat your feet--the love and honored name of a man who would protect andworship you? You have wonderful beauty and family rank. I have power,influence at Court, and an unconquerable ambition. Mine is theintellect to conceive, the heart to dare, and the will to complete!Think what our alliance would mean to us both.... My dear girl--thereis nothing which could halt me, nothing which I could not crush!"
Had many a man made this speech he would have punctuated itstermination with a clenched fist. But the scion of an intriguingaristocracy bared his teeth in a wolf-like smile as he unsheathed hissword-cane an inch or two, to snap it back into place, with a snarlingsmile in his drooping eyes.
However, the speech and the theatrical delivery of the gifted courtierwere wasted effort. Maria Theresa of Spain was impervious to thesurface sheen: she had seen true metal within the past twenty-fourhours!
"Oh, Carlos--you should have been a novelist or a dramatist! I muchprefer the romantic sky-line of New York harbor to your reminiscence ofDon Quixote!"
The great roar of the turbine vibrated through the ship. She advancedto the cabin door, and imperiously called to him to follow.
"I insist. I need fresh air.... _We'll be gone ten minutes!_"
And grudgingly the Duke of Alva followed her, with a vicious swish ofhis cane at the unoffending trunk.
As the door slammed, the top of the trunk was slowly lifted, and thebattered, bleeding face of Warren Jarvis might have been visible abovethe iron ridge of its lock bar.
Stiffly he drew himself out of the trunk, to blink in the unaccustomedlight.
"O,... O.... O.... Oh! Lord!... If I only had that last baggageman bythe neck!"
He bent forward and back to limber an apparently paralyzed spinalcolumn.
"Well, I'm all here!"
He stumbled across the cabin, where he helped himself to a welcomedrink of water. He tenderly caressed the bruised elbows, and breathedhard.
"I'm _most_ all here!"
He looked down at his twisted, cracked patent-leather shoes.
"My feet are bent--they'll never get well!"
He sat limply down on the top of the trunk, and fumbling in his hippocket drew forth a bent and battered cigarette case. As he struck alight to inhale a few welcome, cheering puffs, he looked about hisstrange surroundings with the old, unconquerable Jarvis spirit.
"A Princess--a Duke--a castle--a treasure! Well, well! But the problemis: _Where the devil do I fit in_?"