The Pursuit

by Frank Savile

  CHAPTER IV

  DESPARD EXPLAINS

  "Suppose we sit down long enough to smoke a cigarette," suggestedAylmer. "Perhaps the thump I received just now has had a disastrouseffect upon my limited intelligence, but I confess that Miss Van Arlen'sdeportment remains a matter of mystery. What have I done?"

  Despard laughed gently. He had strolled back from the camp to meet hisfriends and had found them superintending the obsequies of the boar.These were performed by a Spaniard, one of the human jetsam cast upeverywhere along the North African coast by tides of hazard andadventure which set from every quarter of the Mediterranean. The trueson of Islam will not touch the _haloof_, the unclean jungle pig. And soSenor Bernardo Albareda, penniless derelict and strongly suspected ofbeing a fugitive from the Spanish convict establishment at Melilla, wasextracting the tusks. He held them up with a dramatic gesture ofadmiration.

  "Twice the length of my central finger, which is not a short one!" heremarked airily, and used the occasion to exhibit the elegances of ahand which had patently not occupied itself lately with manual toil. Oneor two of his compatriots, who had been among the beaters, were giventhe task of disposing of the flesh and bristles, and departed under hisescort, carrying their burdens dependent from a couple of poles, theArabs hastening to avoid even the shadow of contamination which theycast, and spitting with undisguised disfavor as they passed. Despardaccepted his comrade's invitation and joined the other two upon the seatwhich they had made of a fallen mimosa stump in the shadow of the olive.

  The major took out his cigarette case, found a match, and sent severaltiny clouds rolling up among the branches before he spoke. And hisanswer was another question.

  "You read the details of the Landon divorce case?" he hazarded.

  "Yes," said Aylmer. "One could hardly escape it."

  "You remember, then, that at the close the respondent was very nearlycommitted for contempt of court?"

  "He lost his temper, or his head," agreed Aylmer, "and threatened hiswife. I don't think any one attached much importance to his vaporings."

  "Ah!" Despard nodded his head thoughtfully. "I suppose that would be thepoint of view with most people."

  "Not with yourself?" suggested Aylmer.

  Despard shook his head.

  "I have known the Van Arlens for many years," he said quietly. "Perhapsyou have forgotten that my own mother was an American, that a good dealof my boyhood was passed in New York."

  "I didn't know you knew the Van Arlens; in fact, I could hardly suspectit, when to the best of my remembrance you never even discussed theLandon divorce case with me."

  Despard nodded.

  "No," he said, in a dry, unemotional voice. "I did not discuss it withany one. And you, moreover, were an Aylmer."

  He was silent for a minute and the other two looked at him a littlecuriously. This was not the Despard they were accustomed to, a sportsmanwhose hobbies engrossed him to the exclusion of most other topics. Thiswas a man who had the force of pent feeling behind his words.

  "The Van Arlens naturally did not seek outside society at the time ofthe case," he continued, "but I was on leave, and I saw a good deal ofthem. Has it occurred to you," he added suddenly, "that this child isnot only heir to the Landon title but to the Van Arlen millions--atpresent?"

  "No," said Aylmer, "but I suppose he is the only direct maledescendant."

  "Do you realize what that means in America? To be a Landon, only abarony, though I grant you an old one, is a small thing compared withbeing the grandson of--the richest man in the world."

  Aylmer was silent. The point of view was one that did not easily presentitself to his British complacency. Rattier, too, though he noddedassent, did it without vehemence and with a tinge of reserve. Of aroyalist clique, transatlantic caste was outside his experience.

  "At any rate your cousin Landon realized it at last in realizing what hewas losing. He moved every legal lever he could lay his hands upon toretain the custody of his child and failed. He is to see him twice ayear, for an hour. You will understand that his chances of winning hischild's profitable affections are too limited for his taste."

  Aylmer's brows met in a tiny frown of perplexity.

  "Profitable affection?" he meditated.

  "John is eight. In thirteen years he will be of age. His father thenwill be forty-five, and quite capable of getting much enjoyment out ofhis son's unlimited income."

  Rattier gave a little hissing intake of the breath.

  "This Landon!" he murmured admiringly.

  "The Court decided, also, that the child must be brought up, for ninemonths of every year, at any rate, in England. This was modified, aftermedical examination and certificate, to include Europe and NorthAfrica."

  Aylmer made a little startled motion which dropped the ash of hiscigarette upon his knee.

  "Eh?" he questioned. "Medical certificate?"

  "Phthisis," rejoined Despard, quietly. "The little chap has the seeds ofit, but with care the seeds need never come to growth. But he has towinter in the South, invariably."

  Rattier made a tiny caressing motion of the hand which seemed to implyinfinite commiseration. Aylmer expressed the same emotion in a littleinarticulate murmur.

  "And so--?" he questioned. "And so--?"

  "And so Tangier," said Despard, "which has other conveniences, for themoneyed. The law, here, is always behind the dollars, is it not?"

  The other two looked at him debatingly.

  "The law?" mused Aylmer. "The law?"

  "They have already had experience of it in Italy and Spain--the VanArlens. A man like Landon can make use of it there to further his ownpurposes, against the law. The Spanish and Italian police? Can youexpect them to interfere against a man's dealings with his own child?What do they know of the fiats of the British Courts of Chancery? Hemade two very nearly successful attempts to get possession of theboy,--one at San Remo, one at Taormina."

  Aylmer gave a little low whistle of comprehension. Rattier nodded, stillwith a sort of grudging admiration of this English lord's talents andpersistence.

  "Have you got it now?" went on Despard. "Do you see where they stand?Here, under the protections of the Bashaw, where Landon can neveroverbid them, they enjoy a security which they can obtain nowhere elseoutside America or Great Britain."

  Aylmer's eyes filled with a sudden shadow of loathing.

  "The scoundrel!" he cried. "The miscreant!"

  Despard nodded.

  "Quite so," he agreed. "The epithets any decent-minded man would applyto him. Unfortunately, he is without shame, reckless, and heedless ofeverything but his passionate desire to turn defeat into victory. Hewill stop at nothing to get even with those who have so far triumphedover him."

  "And the boy's mother lives here--with her sister?" said Aylmer.

  Despard did not reply for a moment. There was a queer pause and catch inhis voice as if he sought uneasily for breath.

  "Miss Van Arlen is here, and the old man, Jacob Van Arlen, thegrandfather."

  "And the mother?" asked Aylmer, with a note of surprise in his voice."Lady Landon, or does one call her Mrs. Van Arlen?"

  "She is broken down in health," answered Despard, in a curiously wooden,expressionless accent. "She has been--recommended to try for at leastsix months the effects of an Alpine Sanatorium."

  The two listeners understood, or thought they understood, and mutteredtheir sympathy in an almost inaudible chorus.

  "Insane?" they whispered. "Insane?"

  Despard smote his hand down upon the rotting wood.

  "No!" he cried fiercely. "Her brain is as sound as yours or mine, buther heart has been frozen. By God! Try to think, imagine, if you can,what hell a woman has lived in who was the wife of Landon!"

  His passion seemed to choke him. His eyes glowed, his chest heaved, hewas another man from the one who had sat down smilingly to smoke acigarette with them a few minutes before. And the passion of his wrathinfected his hearers. Imagination painted pictures in their brai
ns;they, too, breathed a little faster as they listened.

  The gust of Despard's passion passed and left him calm again. He gave atiny shrug of the shoulders, which seemed to imply apology. He began tospeak with ordinary unshaken accents.

  "It was I who suggested Tangier to the Van Arlens. I am in garrison atGibraltar; I can see them at frequent intervals; I introduced them tothe Foreign Colony here. The Anstruthers have done their best to makethem at home. I got Absalaam to be their dragoman, and I don't think youwill find a better or more versatile one between Tripoli and Mogador.They have the most suitable villa outside the town. The Bashaw has beengiven to understand the situation, has been generously tipped, and isdoing his best to keep his side of the bargain. The men who guard themare picked and know that matters will reach an extreme of unpleasantnessfor them if their vigilance is allowed to relax. All has been done thatcan be done. And yet--?" He shrugged his shoulders again. "They sharethe anxieties of Damocles," he added. "They live under a sword which mayfall at any moment."

  He rose, flicked the cigarette ash from his sleeve, and made a motiontowards the hill.

  "Shall we be getting on?" he asked. "The sun waits for no one."

  They rose slowly and began to follow the distant line of beaters. Aylmerlinked his hand through Despard's arm.

  "Miss Van Arlen understood ... what we feel ... all we Aylmers, aboutLandon?" he asked.

  Despard hesitated.

  "I put it to her, strongly," he answered.

  There was something not entirely convincing in the reply. Aylmer's voiceshowed anxiety.

  "But--but she cannot imagine that we, or any decent-minded man, couldview him with anything but loathing?"

  There was still a perceptible pause before Despard's reply.

  "I didn't tell her yesterday that you were coming," he said. "Indeed,Anstruther only informed me last night. I thought it would be well thatyou should arrive and make a good impression before she learned yourname. Then, you see, as it happened, you exploded it on her ratherstartlingly. And she, at the time, was rather shaken."

  "And this means--?" said Aylmer, impatiently.

  "It means," answered Despard, debatingly, "that your name recallsmemories to her which, unfortunately, do not prepossess you in herfavor. And, I think, that, being a woman ... your service to thechild ... your saving of him ... under the circumstances ... actedagainst you."

  Aylmer turned and looked into his friend's face with amazement.

  "But--but I don't understand!" he stammered. "That's unjust!"

  Despard shook his head.

  "Not entirely," he demurred. "It's feminine; it's jealousy. It is hardto her that you should have saved the child's life. I could see that,and combated it, during the few minutes in which we rode back to camp."

  Aylmer was frowning. He dropped Despard's arm, thrust his own hands intohis pockets, and stared out into the distance. He shook his head.

  "No!" he said suddenly. "I can't quite follow it. No woman with thatgirl's ... eyes ... would be so ... shabby ... if she understood!"

  Rattier gave him an impulsive little nod.

  "If?" he enunciated slowly. "If?"

  Despard threw the Frenchman a grateful glance.

  "That's it," he agreed. "His name is Aylmer. So far she has not gotbeyond that fact, my friend."

  Aylmer looked round at them both. There was something calculating in theway in which he surveyed the two, as if they were factors in a situationwhich had hitherto eluded him, but which was now beginning to takedefinite shape. And his lips had set one upon the other in a rigid line.His chin seemed to have attained incongruous squareness beneath thesuave droop of his moustache.

  "She's got to believe in me!" he announced grimly. "I won't let her beunworthy of herself."

  And the other two noticed that as he said it he nodded to himself two orthree times decidedly. He drew himself up; unconsciously his carriagegrew stiffer. It was as if he had mapped out and settled a matterdefinitely. He began to talk and laugh naturally, and on other subjects.And if any allusion to the day's adventure outcropped into theconversation he did not avoid it, but simply passed it by withoutcomment. He had taken his line. The incident, apart from his resolution,was closed.

  * * * * *

  As the three strolled up to the camp a man rose from the group which satin the shadow of the awning at the door of the largest tent and came outto meet them. He was tall, white-haired, aquiline of feature. And hispervading characteristic seemed to be gravity. His figure and face alikewere unbending.

  He made them a studied little bow.

  "My daughter tells me, Captain Aylmer," he said, "that I have to thankyou for your prompt action on behalf of my grandson. You saved him froma situation of grave peril."

  Aylmer realized that this was without doubt Jacob Van Arlen. Hesuspected, also, why the old man had thus addressed him without waitingfor an introduction. For men who are introduced, amid the intimatesociabilities of the Tangier Tent Club, at any rate, usually shakehands. Van Arlen's right hand held his sombrero; his left was at hisside.

  Aylmer returned the bow.

  "I did no more than what had obviously to be done," he said quietly."Despard merits your thanks more than I."

  The other looked at the major with a distinct tinge of relief.

  "Is that so?" he asked hopefully.

  "No!" said Despard, laconically. "Your thanks are not in the leastmisdirected, Mr. Van Arlen."

  The old man made another courteous inclination of the head.

  "I thought I could not so far have misunderstood my daughter," heanswered. "I hope, Captain Aylmer, that while you remain in Tangier Imay be permitted to serve you in any way which you like to command.Perhaps, though, your stay is short?"

  And there was hopefulness in this last query. It was patent amid thestudied urbanity of the tone. In spite of himself Aylmer smiled.

  "I am a bird of passage," he said lightly. "I manage to take short leavefor most of the Tent Club meetings, to which Colonel Anstruther is kindenough to make me welcome."

  He strode forward as he spoke and began to exchange greetings with Mrs.Anstruther, who rose to meet him. He had to hear the morning's storyre-discussed, exclaimed over, criticized. He bore it, withoutimpatience, but with a certain aloofness which gave the subject nochance to endure. He managed skilfully, at last, to divert theconversation into other channels.

  Anstruther, who had sat between his wife and Miss Van Arlen, had risento welcome Commandant Rattier. The mishap to the latter's horseengrossed their attention; they wandered off together to examine thewounded limb. After a moment's hesitation Aylmer sank into the vacantchair.

  He looked round at the girl. Her eyes met his, but her hand, as ifacting by some automatic command of the brain, touched her skirt andpulled it toward herself, and away from him. His lips grew a thoughtmore rigid behind the veiling moustache. But his voice was entirelydivested of any semblance of pique.

  "And how is my small cousin?" he asked pleasantly. "Has Selim persuadedhim to take that long-deferred siesta?"

  Old Van Arlen stirred restlessly on his seat. He looked at Aylmer, hislips moved as if to speech, and then closed again. Miss Van Arlen sat upvery straight.

  "Do you mean my nephew?" she asked frigidly.

  "Your nephew and my cousin," said Aylmer, cheerfully. "I hardly expectedto find a relation here when I started this morning."

  Her eyes grew stormy with suspicion, almost with hate.

  "Are you sure?" she demanded suddenly.

  "Quite sure," said Aylmer, halting for a scarcely perceptible momentbefore her meaning reached him. "I have found only friends--so far."