The Coast of Adventure

by Harold Bindloss

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE EMERALD RING

  Grahame went in to dinner feeling anxious. Sarmiento had not returned,but he would probably come in before the meal was over, and Gomez wassitting by Cliffe near the head of the table. Blanca sat oppositeWalthew, and Grahame found a place next to Evelyn, who had not joinedCliffe because she disliked Gomez. Though his manners were polished,there was something sinister about him, a hint of craft and cruelty, andshe did not approve of his association with her father.

  "Have you met the gentleman yonder?" she asked Grahame.

  "Senor Gomez? I know who he is, but have not spoken to him."

  "That's curious, because he has been looking at you as if he wereinterested."

  This confirmed Grahame's suspicion, and he felt uneasy. He did not wantGomez to study him, and he would not have come in to dinner only that hemust warn Sarmiento. If he and his friends were to succeed in theirundertaking, their connection with Don Martin must remain unknown; forit would not be difficult to catch them landing arms should their objectbe suspected. He wondered where Macallister was, for the engineer couldbe trusted in an emergency, and presently he saw him coming in. Therewas no vacant place near Grahame, and Macallister sat down some distanceoff.

  "You may have been mistaken, Miss Cliffe," Grahame suggested. "Somehow,I imagine that Gomez is not a favorite of yours."

  "That's true, though I hardly know him," she answered with a smile. "Oneis now and then seized by a quick prejudice, and I think the reason Imentioned the man was because I wanted your opinion."

  "Did you think it worth having?"

  "I can't judge. Perhaps I really wanted to be agreed with. When you haveno good ground for making up your mind about a thing, it's pleasant tofind your conclusions confirmed."

  "Well, I believe you can trust your feelings. Gomez can't be a nice manif all one hears is true. But what turned you against him--the dash ofdark blood?"

  "No, not altogether. I felt repelled, as one feels repelled by a snakeor a toad."

  Grahame made a sign of understanding. There was, he thought, somethingvery refined in the girl's character; an instinctive fastidiousness. Shewalked in the light and shrank from all that lurked in the shadow. Itwas her inner self that had recoiled from the swarthy politician andreason had nothing to do with the matter.

  "Your father seems to be on good terms with the fellow," he remarked.

  "Yes; it puzzles me. However, I suppose he is forced to deal with allkinds of people----"

  She paused, and Grahame changed the subject. He might have obtained someinformation by judicious questions, but he could not take advantage ofthe girl's frankness by leading her to reveal anything she knew abouther father's affairs. This would taint their friendship, which hevalued.

  After a time, she looked at him with a twinkle of amusement.

  "I watched a little comedy shortly before dinner."

  "Did you?" said Grahame. "Comedies are not unusual when one knows how tolook for them, but they don't catch everybody's eye."

  "This one was rather obvious; I mean the transformation of a staidScottish engineer into a Cuban sugar-planter of convivial habits."

  "Mack isn't really staid. It looks as if you didn't quite understand theScottish character. Under its surface sobriety one's apt to find a veryreckless humor. I'm a Borderer, and rather proud of it, you know. Buthow did the beginning of the first act strike you?"

  "It seized my interest. The plot was not unusual; confused identity is afavorite theme, but I noticed some histrionic cleverness. The rake ofthe _sombrero_ and the hang of the big cloak were good. They carried ahint of mild dissipation; one recognizes artistic talent in these lighttouches."

  Grahame laughed.

  "I'm not sure it was all art; experience may have had something to dowith it. Mack's not an ascetic."

  "But how did the play go off?"

  "It was a success, I think."

  "In one act?"

  "No," said Grahame thoughtfully. "I imagine it isn't played out yet, andthe other acts may not be in so light a vein."

  "As you didn't expect an audience, perhaps I'd better promise not totalk about your play. You may have felt some diffidence about askingthat."

  "Thank you," said Grahame quietly. "You're very quick."

  Evelyn smiled. There was something about the man which appealed to her.Perhaps it was the mystery that seemed to shroud him and the_Enchantress_. She noticed now that he was casting furtive glances aboutthe dining-room.

  As a matter of fact, Grahame was worried about Don Martin. The flowers,plates of fruit, and tall wine carafes obstructed his view, but he couldsee that Sarmiento had not come in. Gomez was talking to Cliffe, but hiseyes wandered about the table. For a moment they rested on Blanca, andGrahame felt angry, as if the fellow's glance were an insult to thegirl. Then it was fixed observantly upon himself, and he hid hisantagonism.

  Dinner was a lengthy function, but the last course was served, and someof the guests were smoking and some leaving their places to speak totheir friends, when Sarmiento came in. He walked toward Grahame, who wasglad of the general movement, which might help him to deal with thesituation. Looking round quickly, he noted that Gomez had turned toCliffe; and then, getting up carelessly, he stood between the secretaryand Don Martin. He faced Sarmiento, and the latter stopped when he sawGrahame's frown. A life of political intrigue had made him keen-witted,and with a negligent movement he turned and went back, speaking to awaiter as he passed.

  Evelyn rose and waited by her chair. Something she did not understandwas going on, and the hint of intrigue excited her. She trusted Grahame,and she thought his object was good. Moreover, she guessed that it hadsomething to do with thwarting Gomez, and she meant to help him if shehad an opportunity.

  The secretary suddenly pushed back his chair, and Grahame felt his heartbeat. Sarmiento was not far from the door, and his back was toward hisenemy, but he would have to turn at the end of the table, and that wouldbring his profile into view. It seemed that he recognized the danger,though Grahame did not think he had seen Gomez, for he bent down,turning his head as he tightened his sash. His face was still hiddenwhen he reached the door, but Grahame, looking round, saw Gomez walkquickly down the room. Other people were now leaving, and Grahame joinedthem, hoping that he might get out before his antagonist. He was unawarethat Evelyn, who guessed his intention, was close behind him.

  There was more room on Gomez's side of the table, and Grahame wasdelayed by several ladies whom he could not push aside. He would haverisked some apparent rudeness, but dared not make a disturbance. Gomezhad almost reached the door when a man collided with him and barred theway, and Grahame smiled as he heard an apology in bad Castilian, for hesaw that Macallister had given Sarmiento a few more seconds' start.

  Evelyn had slipped round the group of women while Grahame was trying toavoid one of them, and she was now in front of Gomez, who was hurryingalong the passage. The man was close to her when she stopped and bentdown with a warning cry.

  "Take care, senor! I have dropped a ring."

  Gomez could not get past her, and his eyes blazed with fury. His polishwas superficial, and Evelyn saw something of the savagery beneath. Sheflinched, but plucked up her courage.

  "It is a valuable ring, and will break if you tread on it," she said.

  "Move then!" Gomez commanded harshly; and when she stepped back herdress uncovered the ring. Its setting was of small emeralds anddiamonds, and might easily have been crushed.

  Gomez picked up the ring and gave it to her with a bow. Then he hurriedon; but when he reached the _patio_ it was empty, and Grahame, standingat the other end of the passage, heard his ugly exclamation. The nextmoment Evelyn passed him, coming back, but her manner indicated that shedid not wish to speak.

  After a time Grahame strolled out from the front of the hotel, andlooked round as he turned a corner. Nobody followed him; and, as heexpected, he found Sarmiento waiting in the shadow some distance fartheron.

 
"What was the danger?" the Spaniard asked.

  "Gomez was in the dining-room."

  "Ah!" said Sarmiento. "Did he recognize me?"

  "I don't think so, but I can't be sure. He was suspicious. But it'shardly prudent to stand talking in the street."

  They entered a shabby cafe, and, choosing a quiet corner, ordered wine.

  "If our friend's suspicions are aroused, he'll lose no time in followingthem up," Sarmiento said; and Grahame noticed that although the cafe wasalmost empty he avoided the secretary's name. "A Pinillo boat sails atdaybreak and passengers go on board to-night. It seems to me that I'dbetter embark."

  "But the Pinillo liners don't call at your port!" Grahame said.

  Sarmiento smiled.

  "It may puzzle our friend if he watches the mole. When I have been onboard I will return quietly, but not to the hotel. I know this city,where I have trustworthy acquaintances. I may be able to learn thebusiness that has brought him here."

  "But what about your daughter?"

  "I do not think our friend knows her, and our name is not on the hotelbook. There is a Cuban lady I can leave her with."

  "One would imagine that watching the fellow might be dangerous. Thereare half-breed rascals in the port who wouldn't hesitate aboutsandbagging or stabbing you for a few dollars. But, after all, you runsome risk at Rio Frio."

  "I am safe there, for a time," said Sarmiento. "The opposition dare notarrest me, and the citizens would have to be satisfied if I disappeared.There would be a riot, and the Government is not ready to use forceyet."

  "I see," said Grahame. "It's evident that you are popular; but theleaders of movements like yours are sometimes willing to sacrifice acomrade for the good of the cause. It might not suit them to have theirhand forced by a tumult."

  "Such things happen. But my hold is on the people. They would not beappeased."

  "May I ask how you got that hold?"

  "I will tell you, senor. My family is of some importance, and at first Iwas not an active liberator. The peons on my father's estate were, in asense, his subjects: ignorant, superstitious people with childishpassions; but they trusted him, and it was our tradition that theyshould be treated well. As I grew up, however, I saw that much had notbeen done. They wasted effort, suffered needless pains, and died ofdiseases that might be stamped out. In my inexperience I resolved that Iwould teach them to live healthily and well."

  "I dare say you found it hard."

  Sarmiento smiled.

  "That is very true. I was young and an enthusiast, and it hurts to bemisunderstood. Even the poor I tried to benefit regarded me withsuspicion; but this was not the worst. One is not supposed to bedisinterested in my country; the man who works for others is a dangerousperson. His aim is to gain power, and those who have it watch him with ajealous eye. Well, I found my schemes thwarted by corrupt officials,money one could do much good with must be spent in bribes, and at last Isaw that before improvement was possible our government must bereformed. I am not naturally a politician, senor; I was forced to becomeone."

  Grahame made a sign of agreement.

  "I think I understand," he said.

  "It was uphill work, but the peasants I had helped began to trust me,thoughtful men gave me their support, and some joined because they hatedall in authority. I was becoming an influence, and it was supposed Icould be bought. Petty honors were offered and an official post. When itwas found that these things did not tempt me, I became a danger to theState."

  "And the President tried a different plan!"

  "Sometimes I feared for my liberty, and sometimes for my life. I havehad to take refuge in Cuba and the United States; much of my money hasbeen spent. But the determination to win freedom and good governmentspreads. We are growing strong, and soon the reckoning with ouroppressors will come."

  "Will things be very much better afterward?"

  Sarmiento spread out his hands.

  "Who can tell? One strives and hopes for the best. It is all that ispossible. Some day, perhaps, comes a small instalment of what one fightsfor."

  Grahame did not answer, and his companion sank into the melancholy thatoften characterized him. He was engaged in an arduous struggle, andGrahame suspected that disappointment would meet him even in hardly wonvictory. The man was sincere, and had sacrificed much for his country'ssake; but he could not work alone, and it might happen that his helpers,tasting power, would restore the abuses he had destroyed. It looked asif he knew this, but did not let it daunt him.

  After a long silence Sarmiento took out his watch.

  "I think I had better go on board the Pinillo boat now," he said. "Ourbusiness is done, and it is well that you sail to-morrow. When we areready for the next cargo, you will hear from us."

  Pulling down his hat, he left the cafe with his cloak thrown looselyover his shoulder, but Grahame noticed that he was careful to keep hisright hand free.