Long Odds

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by Harold Bindloss


  CHAPTER XXII

  UNDER STRESS

  When Desmond left him Ormsgill did not march directly east towards theinterior, but headed northwards for several days. There were reasonswhich rendered the detour advisable, especially as he desired to avoidthe few scattered villages as much as possible, but he had occasion toregret that he had made it. He pushed on as fast as possible until onehot afternoon when the boys wearied with the march since early morninglay down in the grass, and he wandered listlessly out of camp. Theirpresence was irksome, and he wanted to be alone just then.

  There are times when an unpleasant dejection fastens upon the whiteman in that climate, and when he is in that state a very little isusually sufficient to exasperate him. The boys were muttering drowsilyto one another, and Ormsgill felt he could not lie still and listen tothem. He had also a tangible reason for the bitterness he was troubledwith. Desmond had brought him no message from Ada Ratcliffe, andthough she had as he knew no sympathy with what he was doing and hadnever shown him very much tenderness, it seemed to him that she might,at least, have sent him a cheering word. It was, in view of what itwould cost him to keep faith with her, and that was a thing heresolutely meant to do, a little disconcerting to feel that she didnot think of him at all.

  In the meanwhile it was oppressively hot, and the air was very still.His muscles seemed slack and powerless, his head ached, and theperspiration dripped from him, but he wandered on until he reached aspot where a little patch of jungle rose amidst a strip of tall grassin the mouth of a shallow ravine. Ormsgill stood still in its shadowand looked about him. Not a leaf shook, and there was not a movementin the stagnant air. In front of him the patch of jungle cut harshlygreen against the glaring blue of the sky, and beyond it there wassun-baked soil and sand on the slopes of the ravine.

  Then there was a flash in the shadow and one of his legs gave away. Hestaggered and reeled crashing into a thicket, and when a minute laterhe strove to raise himself out of it one leg felt numb beneath theknee except for the spot where there was a stinging pain. Ormsgillalso felt more than a little faint and dizzy, and for a few momentslay still again blinking about him. A wisp of blue smoke still hungabout the leaves, and he could hear a low crackling that grew fainteras he listened. It was evident that the man who had shot him was benton getting away, and he made shift to roll up his thin duck trousers,and looked down at his leg. There was a bluish mark in the middle ofthe big muscle with a little dark blood about it, and he took out hisknife. He set his lips as he felt the point of it grate on somethinghard, and then closed the knife and sat still again with a littlegasp of pain.

  There was, he knew, a piece of the broken cooking pot the West Africanusually loads his flintlock gun with embedded in his leg. That, atleast, was evident, but he did not know who had shot him, and, indeed,was never any wiser on that point. It was, perhaps, a negro who hadsupposed him to be a trader or official against whom he had somegrievance, but, after all, that seemed scarcely likely, and Ormsgillfancied it was some dusky sportsman who had fired at a venture when heheard a movement, and had then gone away as fast as possible when hesaw that he had hit a white man. This appeared the more probablebecause they were not very far from the coast, where men do not oftenattempt each other's life, and Ormsgill had only been struck by onepiece of iron.

  In any case, the faintness was leaving him by the time the startledboys came up and found him sitting in the shadow. It was evident thatthe wound was not very serious in itself, but he realized that a mancould not expect to travel far in that climate with a piece of ironrankling in his leg. Somebody must cut it out for him, and he did notcare to entrust any of his thick-headed carriers with the operation.Without being much of a physiologist he knew that there are arteriesin one's leg which it is highly undesirable to sever. He alsorecognized that while the thing was, perhaps, possible to one withnerve enough, he could not get it out himself, which was, however,rather more than one could reasonably have expected of a man born andbrought up in a state of civilization, for there are a few points onwhich the primitive peoples excel us. Still, the life he had led hadmade him hard, and when he had quieted the boys he bound up the wound,and filling his pipe with hands that were tolerably steady, lay stillawhile to consider.

  He could not push on towards the interior as he was, and there were,he believed, one or two doctors in the city, which was not very faraway. He was aware that he was liable to be arrested there, but itseemed possible that he might enter it unobserved at night andpurchase secrecy from any one who took him in. In such a case he wouldbe the safer because it was about the last spot in which thoseinterested in his capture would expect to come across him, and in afew more minutes he had made up his mind. Though the hammock is not sofrequently used as a means of conveyance in that country where thetrek-ox is generally available as it is in most other parts of WesternAfrica, he had provided himself with one.

  "Get the hammock slung," he said. "We will go on towards the west whenyou are ready."

  Half an hour later the bearers hove the pole to their woolly crowns,and plodded on again. They were not men of any great intelligence, andwere usually content to do what they were told without askingquestions, which was a custom that had its advantages. They had alsoan unreasoning and half-instinctive confidence in the man who ledthem, and in due time they plodded into sight of the town one nightwhen the muggy land breeze was blowing. Like other West Africantowns, the place straggles up and back from the seaboard bluff, withwide spaces between the houses, and nobody seemed stirring whenOrmsgill's boys marched into the outskirts of it. Remembering what thepriest of San Thome had told him of the man whose wife he had sent thegirl Anita to, he presently bade them stop outside the building whichstood well apart from the rest. Some of them were roofed withcorrugated iron, and some with picturesque tiles, but the top of thisone was flat, which Ormsgill was pleased to see. He recognized that itwas built in the older Iberian style which is not uncommon in WesternAfrica and ensures the inmates privacy. There are no outbuildingswhere this plan is adopted. The house stands four-square andself-contained, presenting an almost unbroken wall to the outer world,though there is usually an open patio in the midst of it. One of theboys rapped upon a door, and when it was opened by a negro hiscomrades unceremoniously marched down an arched passage under thebuilding until they reached the enclosed patio. Ormsgill had impressedthem with the fact that the most important thing was to get in.

  Then lights appeared at one or two windows, and when a little,olive-faced gentleman in white linen with a broad sash about his waistcame down the stairway from a veranda Ormsgill raised himself in thelowered hammock.

  "You will forgive this intrusion, Senor," he said.

  The other man made him a little formal salutation. "I," he said dryly,"await an explanation."

  Ormsgill offered him one, and the little gentleman looked at himthoughtfully for a moment or two.

  "I have heard of you--from the fathers up yonder who are friends ofmine," he said. "Perhaps it is my duty to inform the Authorities thatyou are here, but in the meanwhile that is a point on which I am notquite certain. You can, at least, consider this house as yours untilwe talk the matter over. The boys may sleep in the patio to-night, butthey will first carry you in."

  They did it at Ormsgill's bidding, and left him sitting in a basketchair in a big, cool room, after which his host brought in a fewcigars and a flask of wine.

  "They are at your service, senor," he said. "I would suggest that yougive me a little more information. I am one who can, at least, now andthen respect a confidence."

  Ormsgill looked at him steadily, and made up his mind. It was clearthat if his host meant to hand him over to the Authorities there wasnothing to prevent him doing so, and reticence did not appear likelyto serve any purpose, since he was wholly in his hands. He spoke for afew minutes, and the other nodded.

  "I think it was wise of you to tell me this," he said. "There are, Imay mention, others besides myself who desire to see certain changesmade in o
ur administration, and they would, I think, sympathize withyou. Some of them are gentlemen of influence, but we have confidencein Dom Clemente and another man of greater importance--and we arewaiting. To proceed, I think it would not be difficult to keep youhere awhile without anyone we would not wish to know becoming aware ofit. The thing is made easier by the fact that my wife and the girlAnita are away, and my sister, who is very deaf and does not likesociety, rules the household. Now if it is permissible I will examineyour leg."

  He did so, and looked a trifle grave after it. "I know a little ofthese matters, and it is advisable that this should be seen to," hesaid. "Now the Portuguese doctor is not exactly a friend of mine, andmight ask questions as to how you got hurt and where you came from,but there is a half-breed who I think is clever, and he would probablyrefrain from mentioning anything that appeared unusual if he isremunerated sufficiently. It is"--and he made a little expressivegesture, "a thing he is accustomed to doing."

  Ormsgill suggested that the man should be sent for early next morning,and went to sleep an hour later in greater comfort than he had enjoyedfor a considerable time. He did not, however, sleep soundly, and wasawake when the half-breed doctor came into his room next morning. Thelatter set to work and managed to extract the piece of iron, butbefore nightfall the fever which had left him alone of late hadOrmsgill in its grip. It shook him severely during several days, andthen, as sometimes happens, left him suddenly, limp and nerveless inmind and body. He was content to lie still and wait almostunconcernedly. Nothing seemed to matter, and he felt that effort ofany kind was futile.

  He lay one morning in this frame of mind when there were footsteps onthe veranda outside his door, and he heard a voice that soundedcuriously familiar. Then the door opened, and Benicia Figuera who cameinto the room started when she saw him. Ormsgill, however, betrayed noastonishment. He was too languid, and he lay still gravely watchingher. The sunlight that streamed in through the open door fell fullupon her, gleaming on her trailing white draperies and forcing upbronze lights in her dusky hair. He did not see the faint tinge ofcolor that crept into the ivory of her cheek, but he vaguely noticedthe pity shining in her eyes. She seemed to him refreshingly cool andreposeful.

  He did not remember exactly what she said, though he fancied shementioned that she had some business with his host's sister, and hehad no recollection of his own observations, but he sank into tranquilsleep when she went away and awoke refreshed, to wonder when she wouldcome back again. As it happened, she came next day, bringing himchoice fruits and wine, and it was by her instructions he was carriedout on the veranda above the patio where she sat and talked to him.Her voice was low and tranquil, her mere presence soothing, and shedid not seem to mind when he grew drowsy. Once or twice again, whenshe was not aware that he was watching her, he saw compassion in hereyes. Afterwards, though this was not quite in accordance with Iberiancustoms, she came for an hour or two frequently, and Ormsgill grewcuriously restless when she stayed away. Sometimes his host sat withthem and discoursed on politics, but more often he left his deafsister, who would wander away to superintend the dusky servants' laxactivities.

  The house, like others of the same type, might have been built for afortress, and afforded those within it all the seclusion any one coulddesire. One arched entrance pierced the tall white walls, which had afew little windows with heavy green lattices set high in them. Within,the building rose, tinted a faint pink and terraced with verandassupported by tottering wooden pillars, about a quadrangular patio, andit was characteristic that it was more or less ruinous. When the outerwindows were open the sea breeze blew through it, and sitting in coolshadow one could hear the drowsy murmur of the surf. Ormsgill foundthe latter inexpressibly soothing when Benicia sat near him, and hewould lie still contentedly listening to her and watching the shadowcreep across the patio. Weak as he was in body, with his mind relaxed,he allowed no misgivings to trouble him. He was vaguely grateful forher presence as a boon that had been sent him without his request, andwhether Benicia understood his attitude, or what she thought of it,did not appear.

  That was at first, however, and by degrees he took himself to task ashis strength came back, until in the hot darkness of one sleeplessnight he realized towards what all this was leading him. As ithappened, Benicia did not appear the next day, and he had nervedhimself for an effort by the one that followed. He had an interviewwith his host and the half-breed doctor, who both protested, and thenlay waiting for the girl in a state of tense expectancy. He recognizednow what it was most fitting that he should do, but that, after all,is a good deal less than half the battle. It was late in the afternoonwhen she came, and the first glance showed her that there was a changein Ormsgill.

  He lay in a canvas lounge smiling gravely, but he had dressed himselfmore precisely than usual, and there was a suggestion of resolution inhis haggard face which had not been there before. There was alsosomething in his eyes which conveyed the impression that theresolution had cost him an effort, and Benicia laid a certainrestraint upon herself, for she knew what had happened. The days inwhich he had leaned upon her and permitted her unquestioningly tominister to his comfort had, undoubtedly been pleasant, but, afterall, she had not expected them to continue.

  "You are stronger to-day," she said, with a composure that was alittle difficult to assume, as she took a chair beside him.

  "I am," said Ormsgill quietly. "In fact I have been getting strongerrapidly of late, and I am glad of it. You see, I have been blissfullyidle for a while and I have a good deal to do."

  Benicia knew what was coming, but she smiled. "You are sure of that?"she said. "I mean, you still think it is your business?"

  "Perhaps it's a little absurd of me, but I do. Anyway, I don't know ofanybody else who is willing to undertake it."

  "Ah," said Benicia, "would it matter greatly if it was not done, afterall? There are so many things one would have altered in Africa--andthey still go on. It is possible that nobody will ever succeed inchanging them."

  It was, though she was, perhaps, not aware of this, a very strongargument she used, one whose force is now and then instinctivelyrealized by every thinking white man in the western half of Africa,and in other parts as well. It is a land that has absorbed manycivilizations and continued in its barbarism. Nature unsubdued isagainst the white man there, and against her tremendous forces hismost strenuous efforts are of little avail. Where the air reeks withgerms of pestilence and there are countless leagues of swamps breedingcorruption, one can expect very little from a few scattered hospitalsand an odd mile of drains. Besides, there is in the lassitude born ofits steamy heat something that insidiously saps away the white man'swill until he feels that effort of any kind is futile, and that in theland of the shadow it is wiser to leave things as they are.

  Ormsgill nodded gravely. "Yes," he said, "one recognizes that, but,you see, I don't expect to do very much--merely to keep a promise, andset a few thick-headed heathen at liberty. I think I could accomplishthat."

  "Why should you wish to set them at liberty?"

  "It's a trifle difficult to answer," and Ormsgill laughed. "After all,the motive is probably to some extent a personal one. Anyway, it's nota thing I have any occasion to inflict on you. There was a time whenyou didn't adopt this attitude, but sympathized with me."

  The girl made a little gesture. "I would like to understand. You andDesmond have all that most men wish for. Why are you risking your lifeand health in Africa?"

  A curious little smile crept into Ormsgill's eyes. "Well," he saidreflectively, "there are respects in which one's possessions are aptto become burdensome. They seem to carry so many obligations alongwith them that one falls into bondage under them, and I think some ofus are rebels born. We feel we must make our little protest, if it'sonly by doing the thing everybody else considers reprehensible."

  He stopped a moment, and his face grew a trifle grim when he went onagain. "In my case it must be made now since I shall probably neverhave an opportunity of doing anything of t
he kind again."

  Benicia understood him, for she had watched Miss Ratcliffe carefullyat Las Palmas. In fact, she had understood him all along. That heshould shrink from any claim to philanthropy was only what she hadexpected from him, and it was also characteristic that he should havemade as little as possible of his motives. Admitting that he had tosome extent been swayed by the rebellious impulse he had mentioned,she knew there was beneath it a chivalrous purpose that was likely toprove the more effective from its practical simplicity. The Latins canappreciate chivalry, though they do not invariably practice it now,and she realized vaguely that there is nothing in man more knightlythan the desire to strike a blow for the oppressed or at his peril toredress a wrong. Ormsgill's sentiments and methods were, perhaps, atrifle crude, and, from one point of view, somewhat old fashioned. Hedid not preach a crusade, but couched the lance himself. After all, hebelonged to a nation which had once, using crude effective means,swept the slavers off that coast, and still stamps its coinage withthe George and Dragon.

  It was, however, after all, not so much as a redresser of grievancesand a friend of the oppressed, but as a man that Benicia regarded hercompanion, for she knew that she loved him. She said nothing, and in aminute or two he spoke again.

  "There is a thing that has been on my mind the last few days," hesaid. "The fever must have left me too shaky to think of it before. Iam afraid, though it was very pleasant to see you, I haven't quitekept faith with your father in allowing you to come and talk with me.You, of course, don't understand exactly how the Authorities regardme."

  Benicia smiled a little, for she understood very well. "I don't thinkthat counts," she said, "and what is, perhaps, more to the purpose, myfather is not here; he has gone, I believe, on business of the State,into the bush country. If you had remembered earlier you would havebeen anxious to send me away?"

  She leaned forward looking at him, and saw the tension in his face. Ittold her a good deal, and she felt that for all his resolution shecould, if she wished, bend him to her will.

  "No," he said, "I'm not sure I could have done it if I had wished. Infact, the week--is it a week?--I have lain here has been such a one asI have never spent before. Now I am horribly sorry that it is over."

  There was something in his voice which fully bore out what he hadsaid, but Benicia was aware that it was she who had forced theadmission from him without his quite realizing its significance. Sheknew that he would speak more plainly still if she kept her eyes onhim.

  "It is over? You can countenance no more of my visits, then?" sheasked.

  "I am," said Ormsgill gravely, "going away again before to-morrow."

  Benicia sat very quiet, and contrived that he did not see her face fora moment or two. She had, at least, not expected this, and it sent athrill of dismay through her. Steady as his voice was, she was awarethat the simple announcement had cost the man a good deal.

  "You are not strong enough for the journey yet," she said at length."It would not be safe."

  Ormsgill smiled in a curious wry fashion. "It does not require muchstrength to lie still in a hammock, and I shall no doubt get a littlemore every day. Besides, I almost think there is a certain dangerhere. In fact, it would be safer for me up yonder in the bush."

  Benicia was quite aware that he was not thinking chiefly of the dangerof arrest, and again a little thrill that was no longer altogether oneof dismay ran through her. He was, it seemed, afraid of sinking whollyunder her influence. Again she leaned a little forward, and laid herhand upon his arm.

  "You must go? Would nothing keep you here--at least until you are fitto travel?" she asked.

  She saw his lips set for a moment, and the tinge of grayness creepinto his face. Then, with a visible effort, he laid a restraint uponhimself.

  "If I do not go," he said simply, "I should be ashamed the rest of mylife. Perhaps, that would not matter so much, but, as it happens, onecan't always bear his shame himself."

  Benicia turned a little in her chair, and let her hand fall backagain. She knew that if she chose to exert her power he would not goat all, but it was probably fortunate that she did not choose. Afterall, she was a lady of importance in that land, and had the pride ofher station in her. Though he loved her, she would not stoop to claimhim against his will, and, what was more, she had a vague perceptionof the fact that he was right. A wrong done could not be wiped out bythe mere wish to obliterate it, and she felt that if he broke faithwith the Englishwoman in Las Palmas and slackly turned back from thetask which he, at least, fancied was an obligation upon him, theremight come a time when the fact would stand between them and she wouldremember the stain upon his shield. She hated the Englishwoman withLatin sincerity, but in this case her pride saved her from a fall.There are other people who owe their pride a good deal.

  "Then," she said slowly, "one can only tell you to go. Some time,perhaps, you will come back again?"

  She rose, and Ormsgill with an effort stood up awkwardly, and takingthe hand she held out held it a moment. "I do not know," he said witha faint trace of hoarseness. "It is not often possible for one to dowhat one would wish, and there are--duties--laid on me. Still, if itshould be possible--" He broke off for a moment, and then went onagain in a different tone very quietly, "In the meanwhile I must thankyou. I owe you a good deal."

  He watched her go down the stairway, and then leaned on the balustradefor awhile wondering vaguely what would have happened if he had flungoff all restraint and let himself go. He did not know that while hewas nearest to doing so Benicia Figuera had laid a restraint on him,and that had she permitted it he would have rushed headlong to a fall.There are times when the strength of a usually resolute man is apt toprove a snare to him. Then he sat down wearily in the canvas chairagain, and when the land breeze swept through the city that night heand his handful of carriers slipped quietly out of it.

 

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