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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/38679-8.txt b/38679-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..93514fe --- /dev/null +++ b/38679-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9600 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Miranda of the Balcony, by +A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley) Mason + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Miranda of the Balcony + A Story + +Author: A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley) Mason + +Release Date: January 26, 2012 [EBook #38679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive + + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + + 1. Page scan source: + http://www.archive.org/details/mirandabalconya00masogoog + + 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. + + + + + + MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY + + + + + + + MIRANDA + + OF THE BALCONY + + + + _A STORY_ + + + + + BY + + A. E. W. MASON + + AUTHOR OF "THE COURTSHIP OF MORRICE BUCKLER," ETC. + + + + + New York + THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. + 1899 + _All rights reserved_ + + + + + + + Copyright, 1899, + By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + + + + + _Norwood Press_ + _J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith_ + _Norwood, Mass., U.S.A_. + + + + + + CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER I + +IN WHICH A SHORT-SIGHTED TAXIDERMIST FROM TANGIER MAKES A DISCOVERY +UPON ROSEVEAR. + + + CHAPTER II + +PRESENTS THE HERO IN THE UNHEROIC ATTITUDE OF A SPECTATOR. + + + CHAPTER III + +TREATS OF A GENTLEMAN WITH AN AGREEABLE COUNTENANCE AND OF A WOMAN'S +FACE IN A MIRROR. + + + CHAPTER IV + +TREATS OF THE FIRST MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA. + + + CHAPTER V + +WHEREIN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA IMPROVE THEIR ACQUAINTANCESHIP IN A +BALCONY. + + + CHAPTER VI + +WHILE CHARNOCK BUILDS CASTLES IN SPAIN, MIRANDA RETURNS THERE. + + + CHAPTER VII + +IN WHICH MAJOR WILBRAHAM DESCRIBES THE STEPS BY WHICH HE ATTAINED HIS +MAJORITY AND GIVES MIRANDA SOME PARTICULAR INFORMATION. + + + CHAPTER VIII + +EXPLAINS THE MYSTERY OF THE "TARIFA'S" CARGO. + + + CHAPTER IX + +SHOWS THE USE WHICH A BLIND MAN MAY MAKE OF A DARK NIGHT. + + + CHAPTER X + +M. FOURNIER EXPOUNDS THE ADVANTAGES WHICH EACH SEX HAS OVER THE OTHER. + + + CHAPTER XI + +IN WHICH MIRANDA ADOPTS A NEW LINE OF CONDUCT AND THE MAJOR EXPRESSES +SOME DISCONTENT. + + + CHAPTER XII + +THE HERO, LIKE ALL HEROES, FINDS HIMSELF IN A FOG. + + + CHAPTER XIII + +WHEREIN THE HERO'S PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. + + + CHAPTER XIV + +MIRANDA PROFESSES REGRET FOR A PRACTICAL JOKE. + + + CHAPTER XV + +IN WHICH THE MAJOR LOSES HIS TEMPER AND RECOVERS IT. + + + CHAPTER XVI + +EXPLAINS WHY CHARNOCK SAW MIRANDA'S FACE IN HIS MIRROR. + + + CHAPTER XVII + +SHOWS HOW A TOMBSTONE MAY CONVINCE WHEN ARGUMENTS FAIL. + + + CHAPTER XVIII + +IN WHICH THE TAXIDERMIST AND A BASHA PREVAIL OVER A BLIND MAN. + + + CHAPTER XIX + +TELLS OF CHARNOCK'S WANDERINGS IN MOROCCO AND OF A WALNUT-WOOD DOOR. + + + CHAPTER XX + +CHARNOCK, LIKE THE TAXIDERMIST, FINDS WARRINER ANYTHING BUT A +COMFORTABLE COMPANION. + + + CHAPTER XXI + +COMPLETES THE JOURNEYINGS OF THIS INCONGRUOUS COUPLE. + + + CHAPTER XXII + +IN WHICH CHARNOCK ASTONISHES RALPH WARRINER. + + + CHAPTER XXIII + +RELATES A SECOND MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA. + + + CHAPTER XXIV + +A MIST IN THE CHANNEL ENDS, AS IT BEGAN, THE BOOK. + + + + + + MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY + + + + + CHAPTER I + + IN WHICH A SHORT-SIGHTED TAXIDERMIST FROM TANGIER MAKES A DISCOVERY + UPON ROSEVEAR + + +The discovery made a great stir amongst the islands, and particularly +at St. Mary's. In the square space before the Customs' House, on the +little stone jetty, among the paths through the gorse of the Garrison, +it became the staple subject of gossip, until another ship came ashore +and other lives were lost. For quite apart from its odd circumstances, +a certain mystery lent importance to Ralph Warriner. It transpired +that nearly two years before, when on service at Gibraltar, Captain +Warriner of the Artillery had slipped out of harbour one dark night in +his yacht, and had straightway disappeared; it was proved that +subsequently he had been dismissed from the service; and the coroner +of St. Mary's in a moment of indiscretion let slip the information +that the Home Office had requested him to furnish it with a detailed +history of the facts. The facts occurred in this sequence. + +At seven o'clock of a morning in the last week of July, the St. Agnes +lugger which carries the relief men to and fro between the Trinity +House barracks upon St. Mary's and the Bishop Lighthouse in the +Atlantic, ran alongside of St. Mary's pier. There were waiting upon +the steps, the two lighthouse men, and a third, a small rotund Belgian +of a dark, shiny countenance which seemed always on the point of +perspiring. He was swathed in a borrowed suit of oilskins much too +large for him, and would have cut a comical figure had he not on that +raw morning looked supremely unhappy and pathetic. M. Claude Fournier +was a taxidermist by profession and resided at Tangier; he was never +backward in declaring that the evidences of his skill decorated many +entrance-halls throughout Europe; and some three weeks before he had +come holiday-making alone to the islands of Scilly. + +He now stood upon the steps of the pier nervously polishing his +glasses as the lugger swung upwards and downwards on the swell. He +watched the relief men choose their time and spring on board, and just +as Zebedee Isaacs, the master of the boat, was about to push off with +his boat-hook, he nerved himself to speak. + +"I go with you to the Bishop, is it not?" + +Isaacs looked up in surprise. He had been wondering what had brought +the little man out in this dress and on this morning. + +"There'll be a head-wind all the way," he said discouragingly, "and +wi' that and a heavy ground sea we'll be brave an' wet before we reach +the Bishop, brave an' wet." + +"I do not mind," replied M. Fournier. "For the sea, I am _dévot_;" but +his voice was tremulous and belied him. + +Isaacs shook his head. + +"It's not only the sea. Look!" And he stretched out his arm. A +variable fog rolled and tumbled upon a tumbling wilderness of sea. +"I'ld sooner have two gales lashed together than sail amongst these +islands in a fog. I'ld never go to-day at all, but the boat's more'n +three weeks overdue." + +Indeed, as M. Fournier looked seawards, there was no glimpse of land +visible. A fortnight of heavy weather had been followed by a week of +fog which enveloped the islands like a drenched blanket. Only to-day +had it shown any signs of breaking, and the St. Agnes lugger was the +first boat, so far as was known, to run the hazard of the sea. It is +true that two days before one man had run in to the bar of +Tregarthen's Hotel and told how he had stood upon the top of the +Garrison and had looked suddenly down a lane between two perpendicular +walls of mist, and had seen the water breaking white upon Great Smith +Rock, and in the near distance an open boat under a mizzen and a jib, +beating out through the heavy swell towards the west. But his story +was in no wise believed. + +To all of Isaacs's objections M. Fournier was impervious, and he was +at last allowed to embark. + +"Now!" cried Zebedee Isaacs, as the lugger rose. M. Fournier gave a +pathetic look backwards to the land, shut his eyes and jumped. Isaacs +caught and set him upon the floor of the boat, where he stood +clutching the runners. He saw the landing-steps dizzily rush past him +up to the sky like a Jacob's ladder, and then as dizzily shut +downwards below him like a telescope. + +The boat was pushed off. It rounded the pier-head and beat out on its +first tack, across the Road. M. Fournier crouched down under the +shelter of the weather bulwark. + +"As for the sea I am _dévot_," he murmured, with a watery smile. + +In a little the boat was put about. From Sour Milk Ledge it was sailed +on the port tack towards Great Minalto, and felt the wind and felt the +sea. It climbed up waves till the red lug-sail swung over M. +Fournier's head like a canopy; and on the downward slope the heavy +bows took the water with a thud. M. Fournier knelt up and clung to the +stays. At all costs he must see. He stared into the shifting fog at +the rollers which came hopping and leaping towards him; and he was +very silent and very still, as though the fascination of terror +enchained him. + +On the third tack, however, he began to resume his courage. He even +smiled over his shoulder towards Zebedee Isaacs at the tiller. + +"As for the sea," he began to say, "I am--" But the statement, which +he was not to verify on this day, ended in a shriek. For at that +moment a great green wave hopped exultingly over the bows, and +thenceforward all the way to the Bishop the lugger shipped much water. + +M. Fournier's behaviour became deplorable. As Isaacs bluntly and +angrily summarised it, "he lay upon the thwarts and screeched like a +rook;" and in his appeals to his mother he was quite conventionally +French. + +He made no attempt to land upon the Lighthouse. The relief men were +hoisted up in the sling, the head-keeper and one of his assistants +were lowered, and the lugger started upon its homeward run before the +wind. The fog thickened and lightened about them as they threaded the +intricate channels of the western islands. Now it was a thin grey +mist, parting here and there in long corridors, driven this way and +that, twirling in spires of smoke, shepherded by the winds; now again +it hung close about them an impenetrable umber, while the crew in +short quick tones and gestures of the arms mapped out the rocks and +passages. About them they could hear the roar of the breaking waves +and the rush of water up slabs and over ledges, and then the "glumph +glumph" as the wave sucked away. At times, too, the fog lifted from +the surface and hung very low, massed above their heads, so that the +black hillocks of the islets stood out in the sinister light like +headstones of a cemetery of the sea, and at the feet of them the water +was white like a flash of hungry teeth. + +It was at one such moment, when the boat had just passed through +Crebawethan Neck, that M. Fournier, who had been staring persistently +over the starboard bulwark, suddenly startled the crew. + +"There's a ship on shore. _Tenez_--look!" he cried. "There, there!" +And as he spoke the mist drove between his eyes and what he declared +that he saw. + +Zebedee Isaacs looked in the direction. + +"On Jacky's Rock?" he asked, nodding towards a menacing column of +black rock which was faintly visible. + +"No, no--beyond!--There!" And M. Fournier excitedly gesticulated. He +seemed at that moment to have lost all his terror of the sea. + +"On Rosevear, then," said the keeper of the lighthouse, and he +strained towards Rosevear. + +"I see nothing," he said, "and--" + +"There's nothing to see," replied Isaacs, who did not alter his +course. + +"But it's true," exclaimed the little Belgian. "I see it no more +myself. But I have seen it, I tell you. I have seen the mast above the +island--" + +"You!" interrupted Isaacs, with a blunt contempt; "you are blind!" And +M. Fournier, before anyone could guess his intention, flung himself +upon Isaacs and jammed the tiller hard over to port. The boat came +broadside to the wind, heeled over, and in a second the water was +pouring in over the gunwale. Zebedee wrenched the main sheet off the +pin, and let the big sail fly; another loosed the jib. The promptitude +of these two men saved the boat. It ran its head up into the wind, +righted itself upon its keel, and lay with flapping sails and +shivered. + +Isaacs without a word caught hold of M. Fournier and shook him like a +rat; and every man of the crew in violent tones expounded to the +Belgian the enormity of his crime. Fournier was himself well-nigh +frantic with excitement. He was undaunted by any threats of violence; +neither the boat, nor the sea, nor the crew had any terrors for him. + +"There is a ship!" he screamed. "The fog was vanished--just for a +second it was vanished, and I have seen it. There may be men alive on +that rock--starving, perishing, men of the sea like you. You will not +leave them. But you shall not!" And clinging to the mast he stamped +his feet. "But you shall not!" + +"And by the Lord he's right," said the lighthouse-keeper, gravely--so +gravely that complete silence at once fell upon the crew. One man +stood up in the bows, a second knelt upon the thwarts, a third craned +his body out beyond the stern, and all with one accord stared towards +Rosevear. The screen of haze was drawn aside, and quite clear to the +view over a low rock, rose the mast and tangled cordage of a wreck. + +The sheets were made fast without a word. Without a word, Zebedee +Isaacs put the boat about and steered it into the Neck between +Rosevear and Rosevean. As they passed along that narrow channel, no +noise was heard but the bustle of the tide. For at the western end +they saw the bows of a ship unsteadily poised upon a ledge. There was +a breach amidships, the stern was under water, only the foremast +stood; and nowhere was there any sign of life. + +Isaacs brought the boat to in a tiny creek, some distance from the +wreck. + +"We can land here," he said, and the lighthouse-keeper and Fournier +stepped ashore. + +On the instant that quiet, silent islet whirred into life and noise. +So startling was the change that M. Fournier jumped backwards while +his heart jerked within him. + +"What's that?" he cried, and then laughed as he understood. For a +cloud of puffins, gulls, kittiwakes and shearwaters whirled upwards +from that nursery of sea-birds and circled above his head, their cries +sounding with infinite melancholy, their wings flickering like silver +in that grey and desolate light. + +"It's so like your Robinson Crusoe," said M. Fournier. + +"It is more like our islands of Scilly," said the lighthouse-keeper, +as he looked towards the wreck. + +They climbed over the low rocks and walked along the crown of the +island towards the wreck. There was no tree or shrub upon the +barren soil, only here a stretch of sandy grass, there a patch of +mallows--mallows of a rusty green and whitened with salt of the sea. +In the midst of one such patch they came upon the body of a man. He +was dressed in a pilot coat, sea boots and thick stockings drawn over +his trousers to the hips, and he lay face downwards with his head +resting upon his arms in a natural posture of sleep. + +Fournier stood still. The lighthouse-keeper walked forward and tapped +the sleeper upon the shoulder. But the sleeper did not wake. The +lighthouse man knelt down and gently turned the man over upon his +back; as he did so, or rather just before he did so, Fournier turned +sharply away with a shudder. When the sailor was lying upon his back, +the keeper of the lighthouse started with something of a shudder too. +For the sailor had no face. + +The lighthouse man drew his handkerchief from his pocket and gently +covered the head. It seemed almost as if Fournier had been waiting, +had been watching, for this action. For he turned about immediately +and stood by the lighthouse-keeper's side. Above the lonely islet the +sea-birds circled and called; on the sea the mist was now no more than +a gauze, and through it the glow of the sun was faintly diffused. + +"Strange that, isn't it?" said the lighthouse-keeper, in a hushed +voice. "The sea dashed him upon the rocks and drew him down again and +threw him up again until it got tired of the sport, and so tossed him +here to lie quietly face downwards amongst the mallows like a man +asleep." + +Then he sat back upon his heels and measured the distance between the +mallows and the sea with some perplexity upon his forehead--and the +perplexity grew. + +"It's a long way for the sea to have thrown him," he said, and as +Fournier shifted restlessly at his side, he looked up into his face. +"Good God, man, but you look white," he said. + +"The sight is terrible," replied Fournier, as he wiped his forehead. + +The lighthouse-keeper nodded assent. + +"Yes, it's a terrible place, the sea about these western islands," he +said. "Did you ever hear tell that there are sunken cities all the way +between here and Land's End, the sunken cities of Lyonnesse? Terrible +sights those cities must see. I often think of the many ships which +have plunged down among their chimneys and roof-tops--perhaps here a +great Spanish galleon with its keel along the middle of a paved square +and its poop overhanging the gables, and the fishes swimming in and +out of the cabins through the broken windows; perhaps there a big +three-decker like Sir Cloudesley Shovel's, showing the muzzles of +her silent guns; or a little steam-tramp of our own times, its iron +sides brown with rust, and God knows what tragedy hidden in its tiny +engine-room. A terrible place--these islands of Scilly, dwelling +amongst the seas, as the old books say--dwelling amongst the seas." + +He bent forward and unfastened the dead sailor's pilot jacket. Then he +felt in his pocket and drew out an oilskin case. This he opened, and +Fournier knelt beside him. + +There were a few letters in the case, which the two men read through. +They were of no particular importance beyond that they were headed +"Yacht The Ten Brothers," and they were signed "Ralph Warriner," all +of them except one. This one was a love-letter of a date six years +back. It was addressed to "Ralph," and was signed "Miranda." + +"Six years old," said the lighthouse-keeper. "For six years he has +carried that about with him, and now it will be read out in court to +make a sorry fun for people whom he never knew. That's hard on him, +eh? But harder on the woman." + +At the words, spoken in a low voice, M. Fournier moved uneasily and +seemed to wince. The lighthouse-keeper held the letter in his hands +and thoughtfully turned over its pages. + +"I have a mind to tear it up, but I suppose I must not." He returned +the papers to the oilskin case, and going back to the boat called for +two of the crew to carry the body down. "Meanwhile," said he to +Fournier, "we might have a look at 'The Ten Brothers.'" + +They could not approach the bows of the ship, but overlooked them from +a pinnacle of rock. There was, however, little to be remarked. + +"She is an old boat, and she has seen some weather from the look of +her," said the lighthouse-keeper. That, indeed, was only to be +expected, for "The Ten Brothers" had been a trader before Ralph +Warriner bought her, and two years had elapsed between the night when +he slipped from Gibraltar Harbour, and the day when this boat came to +its last moorings upon Rosevear. + +The mist cleared altogether towards sunset. The sun shone out from the +edge of the horizon a ball of red fire, and the lugger ferried the +dead body back to St. Mary's over a sea which had the colour of +claret, and through foam ripples which sparkled like gold. + +The Miranda who wrote the love-letter was Miranda Warriner, Ralph +Warriner's wife. Miranda Bedlow she had been at the date which headed +the letter. She was living now at Ronda in the Andalusian hills, a +hundred miles from Algeciras and Gibraltar, and had lived there since +her husband's disappearance. To Ronda the oilskin case was sent. She +heard the news of her Ralph's death with a natural sense of solemnity, +but she was too sincere a woman to assume a grief which she could not +feel. For her married life had been one of extraordinary unhappiness. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + PRESENTS THE HERO IN THE UNHEROIC ATTITUDE OF A SPECTATOR + + +It was Lady Donnisthorpe who two years later introduced Luke Charnock +to Mrs. Warriner. Lady Donnisthorpe was an outspoken woman with an +untameable passion for match-making, which she indulged with the +ardour and, indeed, the results of an amateur chemist. Her life was +spent in mingling incompatible elements and producing explosions to +which her enthusiasm kept her deaf, even when they made a quite +astonishing noise. For no experience of reverses could stale her +satisfaction when she beheld an eligible bachelor or maid walk for the +first time into her parlour. + +She had made Charnock's acquaintance originally in Barbados. He sat +next her at a dinner given by the Governor of the Island, and took her +fancy with the pleasing inconsistency of a boyish appearance and a +wealth of experiences. He was a man of a sunburnt aquiline face, which +was lean but not haggard, grey and very steady eyes, and a lithe, tall +figure, and though he conveyed an impression of activity, he was still +a restful companion. Lady Donnisthorpe remarked in him a modern +appreciation of the poetry of machinery, and after dinner made +inquiries of the Governor. + +"He is on his way homewards from Peru," answered the latter. "He has +been surveying for a railway line there during the last two years. +What do you think of him?" + +"I want to know what you think." + +"I like him. He is modest without diffidence, successful without +notoriety." + +"What are his people?" asked Lady Donnisthorpe. + +"I don't believe he has any. But I believe his father was a clergyman +in Yorkshire." + +"It would sound improper for a girl without visible relations to say +that she was the daughter of a clergyman in Yorkshire, wouldn't it?" +said her ladyship, reflectively. "But I suppose it's no objection in a +man;" and in her memories she made a mark against Charnock's name. She +heard of him again once or twice in unexpected quarters from the lips +of the men who from East to West are responsible for the work that is +done; and once or twice she met him, for she was a determined +traveller. Finally, at Cairo, she sat next to Sir John Martin, the +head partner of a great Leeds firm of railway contractors. + +"Did you ever come across a Mr. Charnock?" she asked. + +The head partner laughed. + +"I did; I knew his father." + +"It's a strange thing about Mr. Charnock," said she, "but one never +hears anything of what he was doing before the last few years." + +"Why not ask him?" said the North-countryman, bluntly. + +"It might sound inquisitive," replied Lady Donnisthorpe, "and perhaps +there's no need to, if you know." + +"Yes, I know," returned Sir John, with a great deal of provoking +amusement, "and, believe me, Lady Donnisthorpe, it's not at all to his +discredit." + +Lady Donnisthorpe began thereafter to select and reject possible wives +for Charnock, and while still undecided, she chanced to pass one +December through Nice. The first person whom she saw in the vestibule +of the hotel was Luke Charnock. + +"What in the world are you doing here?" she asked. + +"Taking a week's holiday, Lady Donnisthorpe. I have been in Spain for +the last two years, and shall be for the next nine months." + +"In Spain?" + +"I am making a new line between Cadiz and Algeciras." + +"God bless the man, and I never thought of it!" exclaimed Lady +Donnisthorpe. "I think you will do," she added, looking him over, and +nodding her head. + +"I hope so," replied Charnock, cheerfully. "It's a big lift for me." + +"In a way, no doubt," agreed her ladyship. "Though, mind you, the land +isn't what it was." + +"The railway will improve it," said Charnock. + +They happened to be talking of different subjects. Lady Donnisthorpe +pursued her own. + +"Then you won't be in England for a year?" she said regretfully. + +"The company building the line is an English one," replied Charnock. +"I shall have to see the directors in June. I shall be in London +then." + +"Then you must come and see me. Write before you leave Spain. +Promise!" said Lady Donnisthorpe, who was now elated. + +Charnock promised, and that day Lady Donnisthorpe wrote to her cousin, +Miranda Warriner, at Ronda, who was now at the end of the first year +of her widowhood, and of the third year of her ridiculous seclusion at +that little hill-town of Spain. Miranda was entreated, implored, and +commanded to come to London in May. There was the season, there was +Miranda's estate in Suffolk, which needed her attention. Miranda +reluctantly consented, and so Lady Donnisthorpe was the instrument by +which Charnock and Mrs. Warriner became acquainted. But the +foundations of that acquaintanceship were laid without her ladyship's +agency, and indeed without the knowledge of either Charnock or +Miranda. + +A trifling defect in the machinery of a P. and O. boat began it. The +P. and O. stayed for four days at Aden to make repairs, and so +Charnock had four days to wait at Gibraltar before he could embark for +England. He did not, however, spend more than two of those four days +at Gibraltar, but picking up a yellow handbill in the lounge of the +hotel, he obeyed its advice, and crossing the sunlit straits early the +next morning saw the jealous hills about Tangier unfold and that +cardboard city glitter down to the sea. + +He was rowed ashore to the usual accompaniment of shouts and yells by +a villainous boat's crew of Arabs. A mob of Barbary Jews screamed at +him on the landing-stage, and then a Moorish boy with a brown roguish +face who was dressed in a saffron jellabia, pushed his way forwards +and in a conversational voice said, "You English? God damn you, give +me a penny!" + +Charnock hired that boy, and under his guidance sauntered through +Tangier where the East and the West rub shoulders, where the camel +snarls in the Sôk with an electric arc-lamp for a night-light, and all +the races and all the centuries jostle together in many colours down +the cobbles of its narrow streets. Charnock was shown the incidentals +of the Tangier variety entertainment: the Basha administering more or +less justice for less or more money at his Palace gate; the wooden +peep-hole of the prison where the prisoners' hands come through and +clutch for alms; a dancing-room where a Moorish woman closely veiled +leaned her back against a Tottenham Court Road chest of drawers under +a portrait of Mrs. Langtry, and beat upon a drum while another stamped +an ungainly dance by the light of a paraffin lamp; and coming out +again into the sunlight, Charnock cried out, "Hamet, take me somewhere +where it's clean, and there's no din, and there are no smells." + +Hamet led the way up the hills, and every now and then, as he passed a +man better dressed than his fellows he would say in a voice of awe: + +"That's a rich." He invariably added, "He's a Juice." + +"Look here, Hamet," said Charnock, at length, "can't you show me a +rich who isn't a Jew?" + +"These are the loryers," observed Hamet, after the fashion of the +March Hare when posed with an inconvenient question. He pointed to a +number of venerable gentlemen in black robes who sat in wooden hutches +open to the street. "I will show you," he continued, "a Moor who was +the richest man in all Tangier." + +The pair walked up out of the town towards the Mazan, and came to a +lane shadowed by cedars and bordered with prickly pears. Here the +resounding din of the streets below was subdued to a murmurous +confusion of voices, from which occasionally a sharp cry would spirt +up clear into the air like a jet of water. Only one voice was definite +and incessant, and that voice came down to them from the trees higher +up the lane--a voice very thin, but on that hot, still afternoon very +distinct--a voice which perpetually quavered and bleated one +monotonous invocation. + +"Hassan Akbar," said Hamet. + +The invocation became articulate as they ascended. "Allah Beh!" the +voice cried, and again "Allah Beh!" and again, until the windless air +seemed to vibrate with its recurrence. + +They came upon the Moor who uttered this cry at the gate of the +Moorish cemetery. A white, stubbly beard grew upon his chin and lips, +but his strength was not diminished by his years, and with every +movement of his body the muscles beneath the tough skin of his bare +legs worked like live things. He sat cross-legged in the dust with a +filthy sack for his only garment; he was blind, and his eyes stared +from their red sockets covered with a bluish film as though the +colours of the eyeballs had run. + +"Allah Beh!" he cried, swaying his body backwards and forwards with +the regularity of an automaton and an inimitable quickness. He paid no +heed whatever to Charnock and the boy as they halted beside him. +"Allah Beh!" he cried, and his chest touched the cradle of his knees. +He marked the seconds with the pendulum of his body; he struck them +with his strident invocation. + +"He was the richest man in Tangier," said Hamet, and he told Hassan +Akbar's story as though it was an affair of every day. Hassan had not +secured the protection of any of the European Legations. He had hoped +to hide his wealth by living poorly, and though he owned a house worth +three thousand dollars in Tangier, he did not dwell in it. But no +concealments had availed him. Someone of his familiars had told, and +no doubt had made his profit from the telling. The Basha had waited +his opportunity. It came when blindness left Hassan defenceless. Then +the Basha laid hands upon him, forced him to give up the gains of a +lifetime's trade, and so cast him out penniless to beg for copper +flouss at the gate of the cemetery. + +"And Europe's no more than seven miles away," cried Charnock. Even +where he stood he could see the laughing water of the Straits, and +beyond that, the summit of Gibraltar. "Who was it that told?" he +asked. + +"That is not known." + +Charnock dropped some money into the blind man's lap, but Hassan did +not cease from his prayer to thank him. + +"He is very strong," said Hamet, who saw nothing strange in the story +he had told. "He swings like this all day from seven in the morning to +five at night. He never stops." And at that moment, upon the heels of +Hamet's words, as though intentionally to belie them, Hassan Akbar +suddenly arrested the motion of his body and suddenly ceased from his +pitiable cry. + +His silence and immobility came with so much abruptness that Charnock +was fairly startled. Then Hamet held up a finger, and they both +listened. Maybe the blind man was listening too, but Charnock could +not be certain. His face was as blind as his eyes, and there was no +expression in the rigid attitude of his body. + +Charnock heard a faint sound higher up the lane. The sound became +louder and defined itself. It was the slap-slap of a pair of Moorish +slippers. Charnock drew Hamet back by the trunk of a tree, which +sheltered them both from the view of anyone who came down the hill. He +left the lane free, and into the open space there came a man who wore +the dress of a Moor of wealth, serwal, chamir, farajia, and haik, +spotless and complete. In figure he was slight and perhaps a trifle +under the middle height, and the haik was drawn close over his +forehead to shield him from the sun. + +Hassan was seated in the dust with the sun beating full upon his head. +In front of him the newcomer stopped. "Peace be with you," he said, as +Charnock, who had some knowledge of Arabic, understood. But the beggar +made no answer, nor gave any sign that he heard. He sat motionless, +impassive, a secret figure of stone. + +The newcomer laughed lightly to himself, and the laughter, within view +of the rags and misery of the once rich man, sounded unpleasant and +callous. Hamet shifted a foot at Charnock's side, and Charnock, whose +interest in this picturesque encounter was steadily growing, pressed a +hand upon the boy's shoulder to restrain him. + +The stranger, however, had noticed neither of the two spectators. He +was still laughing softly to himself as he watched the beggar, and in +a little he began to hum between his teeth a tune--a queer, elusive +tune of a sweet but rather mournful melody; and it seemed to Charnock +by some indefinable hint of movement that Hassan Akbar was straining +his ears to catch and register that tune. + +The stranger advanced to Hassan and dropped a coin in his lap. The +coin was not copper, for it sparkled in the air as it fell. Then with +another easy laugh he turned to go down into Tangier. But as he turned +he saw Charnock watching him. On the instant his hand went to his hood +and drew it close about his cheeks, but not before Charnock had seen a +scared face flashed at him for a moment, and immediately withdrawn. +The Moor went down the lane. + +"Perhaps it was he who told?" said Charnock. + +Hamet disagreed. + +"He would not know. His beard was fair, so he comes from Fez." +Charnock, too, had remarked that the man was fair-haired. But +nevertheless this encounter of the rich Moor and the beggar remained +in his thoughts, and he allowed his imagination lazily to fix a +picture of it in his mind. Thus occupied, he walked through the +cemetery, taking in that way a short cut to the Sôk. But he was not +half-way across the cemetery when he turned sharply towards Hamet. + +"Do you remember the tune the Moor hummed?" + +Charnock's ear was slow to retain the memory of music. Hamet, however, +promptly whistled the melody from beginning to end, while Charnock +stood and took count of it. + +"I shall have forgotten it to-morrow," said Hamet. + +"I think now that I shall recollect it tomorrow," said Charnock, and +he walked on. + +But in a moment or two he stopped again as though some new perplexity +was present to his mind. + +"Hamet," he said, "before the Moor appeared at all, while his +footsteps were still faint, certainly before he spoke, Hassan Akbar +stopped his prayer, which you say he never stops. He knew then who was +coming. At all events he suspected. How did he know? How did he +suspect?" + +"There is the Sôk," replied Hamet. + +They had passed round the bend of the hill up which the cemetery +slopes, and were come within view of the market-place. Charnock was +puzzled by his unanswered question, and the question was forced to his +notice again that afternoon, and with yet greater force. + +It was market-day. Charnock beheld stretched out beneath him a great +field, or rather a great plain, (for the grass was long since trampled +into mud,) which curved down to the yellow sun-baked wall of the city, +and whereon an innumerable throng, Negroes from Timbuctoo, Arabs, +Jews, and Moors, in all manner of raiment, from rags to coloured +robes, jostled and seethed, bawled and sweated, under a hot sun and in +a brilliant air. Here an old hag screamed aloud the virtues of her +merchandise, a few skinny onions and vegetables; there two men forced +a passage with blows of their sticks, and behind them a stately train +of camels brought in from the uplands their loads of dates. A Riffian +sauntered by with an indifferent air, his silver-mounted gun upon his +back, a pair of pistols in his belt, and a great coarse tail of hair +swinging between his shoulders. He needed no couriers to prepare his +way. At one spot a serpent-charmer thrust out his tongue, from which a +snake was hanging by the fangs; at another a story-teller, vivid in +narration, and of an extraordinary aptness in his gestures, held an +audience enchained. From every side the din of human voices rose into +the air, and to the din was added the snarling of camels, the braying +of donkeys, the bleating of sheep, the lowing of oxen, and all manner +of squeals and grunts, so that it seemed the whole brute creation had +combined to make one discordant orchestra. + +Into this Babel Charnock descended. + +"Those are the shoemakers," said Hamet. He pointed to a cluster of +tiny grimed gunny-bag tents in a corner of the highest part of the +Sôk. In the doorways of the tents a few men sat cobbling; one or two +wood fires crackled in the intervals between the tents; and in close +proximity a dead mule took its last unsavoury sleep. + +"Hassan Akbar sleeps in the mud near to the tents," continued Hamet. +"Every evening he comes down to the Sôk, buys milk and bread from the +shoemakers, and sleeps--" + +"Near to that mule!" interrupted Charnock. "And he was the richest man +in all Tangier." + +A moment later there was shown to him the second picture which he was +to carry away from Tangier. Down the Sôk, through the crowd, came the +Moor, in his spotless robes, and a few yards behind him, striding +swiftly and noiselessly, the blind gaunt beggar of the cemetery gate +followed upon his trail. In and out amongst the shifting groups he +threaded and wound, and never erred in his pursuit. The man in whose +track he kept never spoke when all were shouting, yet Hassan never +faltered. The sound of his footsteps was lost in a multitude of the +like sounds, yet Hassan was somehow sensible of it, somehow to his +ears it emerged distinct. + +Charnock was amazed; in a way too he was chilled. It seemed uncanny +that this sightless creature of the impassive face should be able to +follow, follow, follow relentlessly, unswervingly, one silent man +amongst the noisy hundreds. Charnock walked for a few yards by Hassan +Akbar's side, keeping pace with him. Even with his eyes fixed upon the +Moor in front, even though he saw his feet tread the ground, he could +not distinguish his footfalls. How then could Hassan? + +Tracker and Tracked passed from the Sôk under the archway of the gate, +and Charnock dismissing Hamet walked down towards his hotel near the +waterside. However, he missed his road. He turned through the horse +market, descended the steep street, past the great Mosque, and walked +along a narrow, crooked alley between blank and yellow walls, which +ended in a tunnel beneath over-arching houses. Almost within the mouth +of this tunnel there was a shop, or so it seemed, for a stuffed jackal +swung above the door as a sign. Before this shop Charnock halted with +a thrill of excitement. The door of the shop was shut, the unglazed +window was shuttered. It was not on that account that Charnock +stopped; but underneath the shuttered window, his head almost touching +the sill, Hassan squatted on the cobbles fingering now and then a +silver dollar. + +Inside the door a bolt grated, the door opened, and a stout, +undersized European appeared in the entrance, polished a pair of +glasses, set them upon his nose, glanced up and down the street, +closed the door behind him, and taking no heed whatever of the blind +man under his window, walked briskly into the tunnel. He walked with a +short, tripping, and jaunty step. + +Charnock waited while the echo of it diminished and ceased, and the +moment it had ceased he saw Hassan, without any hurry, without any +sign of expectation or excitement, rise slowly to his feet and move +along the house wall towards the door. His right elbow scraped the +plaster; then his elbow touched nothing. He had come to the recess of +the door, and he stopped. + +It flashed upon Charnock that he had not heard the bolt again grate +into its socket. The door was then only latched and--was Hassan's +quarry behind its panels? + +The affair had ceased to be a toy with which Charnock's imagination +could idly play. He strode across the alley and planted himself face +to face with Hassan. Hassan quietly and immediately murmured a request +for alms and stretched out his left hand, a supple, corded hand, with +long sinuous fingers, a hand of great strength. But as he spoke he +drew within the recess of the door, and Charnock noticed his right +hand steal up the panels feeling for the latch. + +Made by this seemingly passionless and apathetic man, the secret +movement shocked Charnock. It seemed to him at that moment so +cold-blooded as to be almost inhuman. + +"Look out!" he shouted through the door and in broad English, +forgetting that the man for whom his warning was intended was a Moor. +But the warning had its effect. There was a heavy blow upon the door, +as though a man's shoulder lurched against it, and then the bolt +grated into the socket. Hassan Akbar walked on repeating his prayer +for alms, as if his hand had never for an instant stolen up the panel +and felt for the latch. + +Charnock, to make his warning the more complete, rapped on the door +for admission, once, twice, thrice. But he got no answer. He leaned +his ear to the panel. He could detect not so much as a foot stirring. +Absolute silence reigned in that dark and shuttered room. + +Charnock walked back to his hotel. On the way he passed the end of the +pier, where he saw the little Frenchman bargaining with the owner of a +felucca. His excitement gradually died down. It occurred to him that +there might have been no grounds at all for any excitement. Hassan +Akbar might have been following through the Sôk by mere accident. He +might have tried the door in pursuit of nothing more than alms; and in +a little the whole incident ceased to trouble his speculations. He +crossed the Straits to Gibraltar the next morning, and waited there +for two days until the P. and O. came in. It was on the P. and O. that +he first fell in with Major Wilbraham. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + TREATS OF A GENTLEMAN WITH AN AGREEABLE COUNTENANCE, AND OF A + WOMAN'S FACE IN A MIRROR + + +Major Ambrose Wilbraham had embarked at Marseilles, and before the +boat reached Gibraltar he had made the acquaintance of everyone on +board, and had managed to exchange cards with a good many. The steamer +was still within sight of Gibraltar when he introduced himself to +Charnock with a manner of effusive jocularity to which Charnock did +not respond. The Major was tall and about forty years of age. A thin +crop of black hair was plastered upon his head; he wore a moustache +which was turning grey; his eyebrows were so faultlessly regular that +they seemed to have been stencilled on his forehead, and underneath +them a pair of cold beady eyes counterfeited friendliness. Charnock +could not call to mind that he had ever met a man on whom geniality +sat with so ill a grace, or one whose acquaintance he less desired to +improve. + +Major Wilbraham, however, was not easily rebuffed, and he walked the +deck by Charnock's side, talkative and unabashed. + +Off the coast of Portugal the boat made bad weather, and she laboured +through the cross-seas of the Bay under a strong south-westerly wind. +Off Ushant she picked up a brigantine which Charnock watched from the +hurricane deck without premonition, and indeed without more than a +passing curiosity. + +"Fine lines, eh, Charnock old fellow!" said a voice at his elbow. + +The brigantine dipped her head into a roller, lifted it, and shook the +water off her decks in a cascade of snow. + +"I have seen none finer," answered Charnock, "except on a racing-yacht +or a destroyer." + +"She's almost familiar to me," speculated the Major. + +"She reminds me of some boats I saw once at the West Indies," returned +Charnock, "built for the fruit-trade, and so built for speed. Only +they were schooners--from Salcombe, I believe. The Salcombe clippers +they were called." + +"Indeed!" said the Major, with a sharp interest, and he leaned forward +over the rail. "Now I wonder what her name is." + +Charnock held a pair of binoculars in his hand. He gave them to the +Major. Wilbraham raised them to his eyes while the P. and O. closed +upon the sailing-boat. The brigantine slid down the slope of a wave +and hoisted her stern. + +"The 'Tarifa,'" said the Major, and he shut up the binoculars. "What +is her tonnage, do you think?" + +"About three hundred, I should say." + +"My notion precisely. Would it be of any advantage to alter her rig, +supposing that she was one of the Salcombe schooners?" + +"I should hardly think so," replied Charnock. "I rather understood +that the schooners were noted boats." + +"Ah, that's interesting," said Wilbraham, and he returned the +binoculars. The steamer was now abreast of the brigantine, and in a +little it drew ahead. + +"By the way, Charnock, I shall hope to see more of you," resumed Major +Wilbraham. "I haven't given you a card, have I?" + +He produced a well-worn card-case. + +"It's very kind of you," said Charnock, as he twirled the card between +his forefinger and his thumb. "Don't you," he added, "find cards +rather a heavy item in your expenses?" + +Major Wilbraham laughed noisily. + +"I take you, dear friend," he exclaimed, "I take you. But a friend in +this world, sir, is a golden thread in a very dusty cobweb." + +"But the friendship is rather a one-sided arrangement," rejoined +Charnock. "For instance, the cards you give, Major Wilbraham, bear no +address, the cards you receive, do." And while showing the card to his +companion, he inadvertently dropped it into the sea. + +Major Wilbraham blamed the negligence of a rascally printer, and made +his way to the smoking-room. + +The P. and O. boat touched at Plymouth the next morning, and landed +both Major Wilbraham and Charnock. The latter remained in Plymouth for +two days, and on the morning of the third day hired a hansom cab, and +so met with the last of those incidents which were to link him in such +close, strange ties with the fortunes of men and women who even in +name were then utterly unknown to him. + +A yellow handbill had led Charnock across the Straits to Tangier, and +now it was nothing more serious than a draft upon Lloyd's bank which +took him in a hansom cab through the streets of Plymouth. Spring was +in the air; Charnock felt exceedingly light-hearted and cheerful. On +the way he unconsciously worked his little finger into the eye of the +brass bracket which juts inwards on each side of the front window at +the level of the shoulder; and when the cab stopped in front of the +bank he discovered that his finger was securely jammed. + +Across the road he noticed a chemist's shop, and descending the steps +of the bank a fair-haired gentleman of an agreeable countenance, who, +quite appropriately in that town of sailors, had something of a +nautical aspect. + +"Sir," began Charnock, politely, as he leaned out of the window, "I +shall be much obliged--" + +To Charnock's surprise the good-natured gentleman precipitately sprang +down the steps and began to walk rapidly away. Charnock was +sufficiently human and therefore sufficiently perverse to become at +once convinced that although there were others passing, this reluctant +man was the only person in the world who could and must help him from +his predicament. + +So he leaned yet farther out of the cab. + +"Hi, you sir!" he shouted, "you who are running away!" + +The words had an electrical effect. The man of the agreeable +countenance stopped suddenly, and so stood with his back towards +Charnock while gently and thoughtfully he nodded his head. It seemed +to Charnock that he might perhaps be counting over the voices with +which he was familiar. + +"Well," cried Charnock, who was becoming exasperated, "my dear sir, am +I to wait for you all day?" + +The street was populous with the morning traffic of a business +quarter. Curious people stopped and attracted others. In a very few +moments a small crowd would have formed. The stranger thereupon came +slowly back to the hansom, showing a face which was no longer +agreeable. He set a foot upon the step of the cab, and fixed a blue +and watchful eye upon Charnock. + +"I am afraid," said the latter, with severity, "that my first +impression of you was wrong." + +An indescribable relief was expressed by the other, but he spoke with +surliness. + +"You mistook me for someone else?" + +"I mistook your disposition for something else," Charnock affably +corrected. "I expected to find you a person of great good-nature." + +"You hardly made such a point of summoning a perfect stranger," and +here the blue eyes became very wary, "for no other reason than to tell +him that." + +"Certainly not," returned Charnock; "I would not trespass upon your +time, which seems to be extremely valuable, without a better reason. +But my finger is fixed, as you can see, in this brass ring, and I +cannot withdraw it. So if you would kindly cross over to the chemist +and buy me a pennyworth of vaseline, I shall be more than obliged." +And with the hand which was free he felt in his pocket for a penny and +held it out. + +A look of utter incredulity showed upon the listener's face. + +"Do you mean to tell me--" he blurted out. + +"That I ask you to be my good Samaritan? Yes." + +The stranger's face became suddenly vindictive. "Vaseline!" he cried. + +"A pennyworth," said Charnock, again offering the penny. + +The man of the agreeable countenance struck Charnock's hand violently +aside, and the penny flew into a gutter. He stood up on the step and +thrust his face, which was now inflamed with fury, into the cab. + +"I tell you what," he cried, "you are a fair red-hotter, you are. Buy +you vaseline! I hope your finger will petrify. I hope you'll just sit +in that cab and rot away in your boots, until you have to ante up in +kingdom come." He added expletives to his anathema. + +"Really," said Charnock, "if I was a lady I don't think that I should +like to listen to you any longer." + +But before Charnock had finished the sentence, the good Samaritan, who +was no Samaritan at all, had flung himself from the cab and was +striding up the street. + +"After all," thought Charnock, "I might just as well have driven +across to the chemist, if I had only thought of it." + +This he now did, got his finger free, cashed his draft, and took the +train to London. + +During this journey the discourteous stranger occupied some part of +his thoughts. Between Charnock's eyes and the newspaper, against the +red cliffs of Teignmouth, on the green of the home counties, his face +obtruded, and for a particular reason. The marks of fear are +unmistakable. The man whom he had called, had been scared by the call, +nor had his fear quite left him when he had come face to face with +Charnock. Set features which strove to conceal, and a brightness of +the eye which betrayed emotion, these things Charnock remembered very +clearly. + +In London he dined alone at his hotel, and over against him the +stranger's face bore him company. He went out afterwards into the +street, and amidst the myriad ringing feet, was seized with an utter +sense of loneliness, more poignant, more complete, than he had ever +experienced in the waste places of the world. The lights of a theatre +attracted him. He paid his money, took a seat in the stalls, and was +at once very worried and perplexed. He turned to his neighbour, who +was boisterously laughing. + +"Would you mind telling me what this play is?" he asked. + +"Oh, it's a musical comedy." + +"I see. But what is it about?" + +Charnock's neighbour scratched his head thoughtfully. + +"I ought to remember," he said, "for I saw the piece early in the +run." + +Charnock went out, crossed a street, and came to another theatre, +where he saw a good half of the tragedy of _Macbeth_. Thence he +returned to his hotel and went to bed. + +The hotel was one of many balconies, situated upon the Embankment. +From the single window or his bedroom Charnock looked across the river +to where the name of a brewery perpetually wrote itself in red +brilliant letters which perpetually vanished. It was his habit to +sleep not merely with his window open, but with the blinds drawn up +and the curtains looped back, and these arrangements he made as usual +before he got into bed. + +Now, the looking-glass stood upon a dressing-table in the window, with +its back towards the window-panes; and since the night was moonless +and dark, this mirror, it should be remembered, reflected nothing of +the room or its furniture, but presented only to the view of Charnock, +as he lay in bed, a surface of a black sheen. + +Charnock recurred to his adventure of the morning, and thus the +abusive stranger was in his thoughts when he fell asleep. He figured +also in his dreams. + +For, after he had fallen asleep, a curtain was raised upon a fantastic +_revue_ of the past week. Hassan Akbar strode quickly and noiselessly +behind his quarry, tracking him by some inappreciable faculty, not +through the muddy Sôk, but across the polished floor of the ball-room +in the musical comedy. Again Charnock shouted "Look out!" and the Moor +with one bound leapt from the ball-room, which was now become a +landing-stage, into a felucca. The crew of the felucca, it now +appeared, was made up of Charnock, Lady Macbeth, and Hassan Akbar, and +by casting lots with counters made of vaseline, Charnock was appointed +to hold the tiller. This duty compelled extraordinary care, for the +felucca would keep changing its rig and the bulk of its hull swelled +and dwindled. At last, to Charnock's intense relief, the boat settled +into a Salcombe clipper with the rig of a P. and O., but with +immeasurably greater speed, so that within a very few seconds they +sailed over a limitless ocean and anchored at Tangier. At once the +crew entirely vanished. Charnock was not distressed, because he saw a +hansom cab waiting for him at the Customs, though how the hansom was +to pass up those narrow cobbled streets he could not think. That +however was the driver's business. + +"I hope your horse is good," said Charnock, springing into the cab. + +"She comes of the great Red-hotter stock," replied the cabman, and +lifting the trap in the roof he showered packets of visiting cards, +which fell about Charnock like flakes of snow. + +Charnock had not previously noticed that the cabman was Major +Wilbraham. + +The cab shot up the hill through the tunnel, past the closed shop. A +figure sprang from the ground and thrust a face through the window of +the cab. The man was in Moorish dress, but the face was the face of +the abusive stranger of Plymouth--and all at once Charnock started up +on his elbow, and in the smallest fraction of a second was intensely +and vividly awake. There was no sound at all within the room. But in +the black sheen of the mirror he saw a woman's face. + +He saw it quite clearly for perhaps five seconds, the face rising +white from the white column of the throat, the dark and weighty +coronal of the hair, the curved lips which alone had any colour, the +eyes, deep and troubled, which seemed to hint a prayer for help which +they disdained to make--for five seconds perhaps the illusion +remained, for five seconds the face looked out at him from the black +mirror, lit palely, as it seemed, by its own pallor, and so vanished. + +Charnock remained propped upon his elbow. A faint twilight from the +stars crept timidly through the open window as though deprecating its +intrusion. Charnock looked into the dark corners of the room, but +nowhere did the darkness move. Nor could he hear any sound. Not even a +board of the floor cracked, and outside the door there was no noise of +a footstep on the stairs. Then from a great distance the jingle of a +cab came through the open window to his ears with a light +companionable lilt. Gradually the sound ceased, and again the silence +breathed about him. Charnock struck a match and looked at his watch. +It was a few minutes after three. + +Charnock lay back in his bed wondering. For he had seen that face +once, he had once exchanged glances with those eyes, once only, six +years ago, and thereafter had entirely forgotten the incident--until +this moment. He had stopped for a night at Monte Carlo and had +seen--the girl--yes, the _girl_, though it was a woman's face which +had gleamed in the depths of his mirror--standing under the green +shaded lamps in the big gambling-room. His attention, he now +remembered, had been seized by the contrast between her amused +indifference and the feverish haste of the gamblers about the table; +between her fresh, clear looks and their heated complexions,--even +between her frock of lilac silk and their more elaborate toilettes. +The girl was entirely happy then, the red lips smiled, the violet eyes +laughed. Why should her face appear to him now, after these years, and +paled by this distress? + +A queer fancy slipped into his mind--a fancy at the extravagance of +which he knew very well he should laugh in the sane light of the +morning, though he indulged it now--that somehow, somewhere, this +woman needed help, and that it was thus vouchsafed to her, a stranger, +to make her appeal to him in this way, which spared her the +humiliation of making any appeal at all. Charnock fell asleep +convinced that somehow, somewhere, he was destined to meet and know +her. As he had foreseen, he laughed at his fancies in the morning, but +nevertheless, he did meet her. It had, in fact, already been arranged +that he should. For the face which he saw in the mirror was the face +of Miranda Warriner. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + TREATS OF THE FIRST MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA + + +Lady Donnisthorpe, with a sigh of relief, retired from her position at +the head of the stairs, and catching Charnock in the interval between +two dances:-- + +"You kept some dances free," she said, "didn't you? I want to +introduce you to a cousin of mine, Miranda Warriner, because she lives +at Ronda." + +"At Ronda. Indeed?" + +"Yes." Her ladyship added with a magnificent air of indifference, "She +is a widow," and she led Charnock across the ball-room. + +Miranda saw them approaching, noticed an indefinable air of +expectation in Lady Donnisthorpe's manner, and smiled. A few +excessively casual remarks concerning one Mr. Charnock, which Lady +Donnisthorpe had dropped during the last few days, had not escaped the +notice of Miranda, who was aware of her cousin's particular weakness. +This was undoubtedly Mr. Charnock. She raised her eyes towards him, +and had her ladyship been less fluttered, she might have remarked that +Miranda's eyes lit up with a momentary sparkle of recognition. + +"Mrs. Warriner--Mr. Charnock." + +Lady Donnisthorpe effected the momentous introduction and felt +immediately damped. She had not indeed expected that her two newest +victims would at once and publicly embrace. But at all events she had +decked out her ball-room as the sacrificial altar, and had taken care +that a fitting company and cheerful music should do credit to the +immolation. This tame indifference was less than she deserved. + +Miranda, to whom Lady Donnisthorpe was looking, made the perfunctory +dip of the head and smiled the perfunctory smile, and Charnock--why in +the world did he not move or speak? Lady Donnisthorpe turned her eyes +from Miranda to this awkward cavalier, and was restored to a radiant +good-humour. "Dazzled," she said to herself, "absolutely dazzled!" For +Charnock stood rooted to the ground and tongue-tied with amazement. + +It was fortunate for Lady Donnisthorpe that at this point she thought +it wise to withdraw. Otherwise she would surely have remarked an +unmistakable look of disappointment which grew within Charnock's eyes +and spread out over his face. Then the disappointment vanished, and as +he compared programmes with Miranda, he recovered his speech. + +Four dances must intervene before he could claim her, and Charnock was +glad of the interval to get the better of his bewilderment. Here was +the woman whom his mirror had shown to him! After all, his nocturnal +fancy was fulfilled, or rather part of it, only part or it. He had met +her, he was to dance with her. Some miracle had brought them together. +From the corner by the doorway he watched Miranda, he remarked an +unaffected friendliness in her manner towards her partners. Candour +was written upon her broad white forehead and looked out from her +clear eyes. He had no doubt it was fragrant too in her hair. There +were heavy masses of that hair, as he knew very well from his mirror, +but now the masses were piled and woven about her head with a cunning +art, which to be sure they deserved. There was a ripple in her hair, +too, which caught the light--a most taking ripple. Here was a woman +divested of a girl's wiles and vanities. Charnock, without a scruple, +aspersed all girls up to the age of say twenty-four, that he might +give her greater praise. + +He fell to wondering, not how it was that her face had appeared to +him, nor by what miracle he was now enabled to have knowledge of her, +but rather by what miracle of forgetfulness he had allowed her face, +after he had seen it that one time six years ago, ever to slip from +his thoughts, or her eyes after that one time he had exchanged a +glance with them. + +The whirl of the dance carried her by his corner. She swung past him +with the lightest imaginable step, and he was suddenly struck through +and through with a chilling apprehension that by some unconscionable +maladroitness he would surely tread upon her toes. + +At once he proceeded to count over the dances in which he had borne +himself with credit. He had danced with Spanish women, he assured +himself, and they had not objected. He was thus consoling himself when +the time came for him to lead her out. And the touch of her hand in +his, he remembers, turned him into a babbling idiot. + +He recollects that they danced with great celerity; that they passed +Lady Donnisthorpe, who smiled at him with great encouragement, and +that he was dolefully humorous concerning Major Wilbraham and his +exchanges of cards, though why Major Wilbraham should have thrust his +bald head into the conversation, he was ever at a loss to discover. +And then Miranda said, "Shall we stop?" + +"Oh, I didn't, did I?" exclaimed the horror-stricken Charnock, as he +looked downwards at her toes. + +"No, you didn't," Miranda assured him with a laugh. "Do you usually?" + +"No," he declared vehemently, "believe me, no! Never, upon my word! I +have danced with Spanish women,--not at all,--no--no--no--no." + +"Quite so," said Miranda. + +And they laughed suddenly each to the other, and in a moment they were +friends. Conversation came easily to their tongues, and underneath the +surface of their light talk, the deeps of character called steadily +like to like. + +"I have seen you once before, Mrs. Warriner," said Charnock, as they +seated themselves in an alcove of the room. + +"Yes," she returned promptly, "at Monte Carlo, six years ago," and her +face lost its look of enjoyment and darkened with some shadow from her +memories. The change was, however, unremarked by Charnock. + +"It seems strange," he said in an absent voice, "that we should meet +first of all in a gambling-room, and the next time at a ball." + +"Why?" + +The question could not be answered. Charnock had a real but +inexplicable feeling that Miranda and he should have met somewhere +amidst the grandeur of open spaces, in the centre of the Sahara, and +for the moment he forgot to calculate the effect of the sand upon +Miranda's eyes. This feeling, however, he could hardly express at the +present point of their acquaintanceship; and, indeed, he immediately +ceased to be aware of it. + +"Do you actually remember our meeting in that way six years ago?" he +exclaimed. "How wonderful of you!" + +"Why?" again asked Mrs. Warriner. "Why is it wonderful, since you +remember it?" + +"Ah, but I didn't remember it until"--he paused for a second or +two--"until I saw your face in a looking-glass." + +Miranda glanced at him in considerable perplexity. Then she said with +a demure smile, "I have at times seen it there myself." + +"No doubt," he replied with a glance at the cunning arrangement of her +hair. + +"My maid does that," said she, biting her lip. + +"No doubt, but you sit in front of the glass at the time. You're in +the room," he continued hastily; "but when I saw your face in my +mirror, you couldn't be. I was in bed,--I mean,--let me tell you!" He +stopped, overwhelmed with embarrassment. Miranda, with an air of +complete unconsciousness, carefully buttoned her glove; only the glove +was already buttoned, and her mouth twitched slightly at the corners. + +"It was just a week ago to-day," Charnock began again. "I got home to +my hotel late." + +"Ah!" murmured Mrs. Warriner, as though the whole mystery was now +explained to her. + +"I assure you," he retorted with emphasis, "that I dined in the train +and drank nothing more serious than railway claret." + +"I made no accusation whatever," Miranda blandly remarked, and seemed +very well pleased. + +"After I had fallen asleep, I began to dream, but not about you, Mrs. +Warriner; that's the strange feature of the business. It wasn't that I +had been thinking of you that evening, or indeed, that I had ever been +at all in the habit of thinking--" Again Charnock was utterly +confused. "I don't seem to be telling the story with the best taste in +the world, do I?" he said ruefully. + +"Never mind," she said in a soothing voice. + +"Of course, I could have turned it into a compliment," he continued. +"Only I take it you have no taste for compliments, and I lack the +experience to put them tactfully." + +"For a novice," said she, "you seem to be doing very well." Charnock +resumed his story. "I dreamt solely of people I had seen, and +incidents I had witnessed during the last week, at Tangier and at +Plymouth. I dreamed particularly of a man I quarrelled with at +Plymouth, and I suddenly woke up and saw your face in the mirror." + +"As you fancied." + +"It was no fancy. It was no dream-face that I saw--dream-faces are +always elusive. It was no dream-face, it was yours." + +"Or one like mine." + +"There cannot be two." + +"For a novice," repeated Miranda, with a smile, "you _are_ doing very +well." + +Charnock had watched her carefully while he told his story, on the +chance that her looks, if not her lips, might give him some clue to +the comprehension of his mysterious vision. But she had expressed +merely an unconcerned curiosity and some amusement. + +"Shall I explain your vision?" said she. "You must have seen me in +London during the day: the recollection that you had seen me must have +lain latent, so that when you woke up you saw me in your mirror and +did not remember that you had seen me during the day." + +"Were you at any theatre this day week?" + +"No," said Miranda, after counting over the days. + +"You did not see _Macbeth_ that night?" + +"No." + +"Then it is impossible I should have seen you. For I came up from +Plymouth only that afternoon. I drove from Paddington to my hotel; +from the hotel I went to the theatre; from the theatre I walked back +to the hotel. It is impossible." + +"It is very strange," said Miranda, whose interest was increasing, and +whose sense of amusement had vanished; for she saw that her companion +was moved by something more than curiosity. It was evident to her from +his urgent tones, from the eagerness of his face, that he had some +hidden reason for his desire to fathom the mystery. It seemed to her +that he nourished some intention, some purpose in the back of his +mind, which depended for fulfilment upon whether or no there was any +feasible solution. + +"Tell me your dream," she said. + +"It was the oddest jumble,--it had neither sense nor continuity. Moors +figured in it, ships, Lady Macbeth, the Major with his card-case, and +the stranger who swore at me through the cab-window at Plymouth. The +phrases that man used came into it." + +"What phrases?" + +"I couldn't repeat to you the most eloquent. There were milder ones, +however. He called me a fair red-hotter amongst other things," said +Charnock, laughing at his recollections, "and expressed a wish that I +might--well, sit in that cab until I ante'd up in kingdom come." + +Miranda leaned back in her seat and opened and shut her fan. "He was a +stranger to you, you say?" + +"Quite." + +"You are sure?" + +"Quite." + +"You had never seen him anywhere--anywhere? Think!" + +Charnock deliberated for a few seconds. "Never anywhere," he replied. + +There was a moment's silence. Mrs. Warriner gently fanned herself as +she leaned back in the shadow of the alcove. "Describe him to me," she +said quietly. + +"A man of a slight figure, a little under the middle height, fair +hair, bright blue eyes, an open, good-natured face, and I should say a +year or so under forty. I took him to be a sailor." + +The fan stopped. Miranda let it fall upon her lap. That was the only +movement which she made, and from the shadow of the recess, she said: +"There is no explanation." + +Charnock drew a breath and leaned forward, his hands clasped, his +elbows on his knees. It seemed he had been waiting for just that one +sentence. As he sat now his face was in the light, and Miranda +remarked a certain timidity upon it, as though now that he had heard +the expected words, he dared not after all reply to them. He did not +look towards her. He stared at the dancers, but with vacant eyes. He +saw nothing of their jewels, or their coloured robes, or the flash of +their silver feet, and the noise of their chatter sounded very dimly +in his ears. He was quite occupied, indeed, with the hardihood of what +he had it on his tongue's tip to say--when he had gained sufficient +courage. + +Miranda moved restlessly, unbuttoned a glove, drew it off her wrist +unconsciously, and then was still as Charnock began to speak. + +"Is there no explanation?" he asked. "I imagined one. You know how +fancies come to one in the dark. That night I imagined one. I laughed +at it the next morning, but now, since I have talked with you, I have +been wondering whether by any miracle, it might be true. And if +there's an infinitesimal chance that it's true, I think that I ought +to tell you it, even though it may seem merely ridiculous, even though +it may offend you. But I have lived for the most part of my time, +since I was a man, in the waste places of the earth, and what may well +be an impertinence--for we are only these few minutes acquainted--you +will perhaps pardon on that account." + +He received no encouragement to continue; on the other hand he +received no warning to stop, for Miranda neither spoke nor moved. He +did not look at her face lest he should read the warning there; but +from the tail of his eye, he could see the fan, the white glove lying +idle upon the black satin of her dress. The skirt hung from her knee +to her foot without a stir in its folds, nor did her foot stir where +it showed beneath the hem. She remained in a pose of most enigmatical +quietude. + +"The face which my mirror showed to me," he went on, "was your face, +as I said; but in expression it was not your face as I see it +to-night. It was very troubled, it was very pale; the eyes haunted me +because of the pain in them, and because of--something else beside. It +was a tortured face I saw, and the eyes seemed to ask--but to ask +proudly--for help. Is it plain, the explanation which occurred to me?" +His voice sank; he went on, slowly choosing every word with care, and +speaking it with hesitation. "I imagined that out of all the millions +of women in the world, here was one who needed help--my help, who was +allowed to appeal to me for it, without, if you understand, making any +appeal at all, and the explanation was not ... unpleasant ... to a man +who lives much alone. In fact it has been so pleasant, and has become +so familiar during this last week, that when I saw you to-night +without a care, just as I saw you that night at Monte Carlo," and +indeed it seemed to Charnock that the black dress she wore alone +marked the passage of those six years,--"I am ashamed to say that I +was disappointed." + +"Yes," said Miranda. "I noticed the disappointment, but there's a +simpler explanation of the troubled face than yours. You had been to +_Macbeth_ that evening; Lady Macbeth played a part in your dreams. +What if Lady Macbeth lent her pallor and her distress to the face +which you saw in your mirror?" + +Charnock swung abruptly round towards her. It was not the explanation +which surprised him, but the altered voice she used. And if her voice +surprised him, he was shocked and startled by her looks. She was still +leaning back in the shadow of the alcove, and her head rested against +the dark wood-panels. She did not move when he looked towards her. + +"My God," he said in a hushed and trembling whisper, and she gave no +sign that she heard. She might have fainted, but that her eyes +glittered out of the shadow straight and steadily into his. She might +be dead from the whiteness of her face against the panels, but that +her bosom rose and fell. + +"What can I do?" he exclaimed. + +"Hush!" she replied, and rose to her feet. "Here is Lady +Donnisthorpe." She walked abruptly past him across the room to the +open window. Charnock remained nailed to the ground, following her +with his eyes. For in that alcove, leaning against the dark panels, he +had seen not merely the features, but the expression on the features, +he had seen exact in every detail the face which he had seen in the +polished darkness of his mirror. The sheen of the dark polished panels +helped the illusion. His fancy had come true, was transmuted into +fact. Somewhere, somehow, he was to meet that woman. He had met her +here and in this way, and her eyes and her face uttered her distress +as with a piercing cry. Her eyes! The resemblance was perfect to the +last detail. For Charnock ventured to surmise in them the same +involuntary appeal which he had seen in the eyes that had looked out +from his mirror. What then if the rest were true? What if his +explanation was as true as the true facts which it explained? What if +it was given to him and to her to stand apart from their fellows in +this mysterious relation?... + +He saw that Miranda was already near the window, that Lady +Donnisthorpe was approaching him. He followed instantly in Miranda's +steps, and Lady Donnisthorpe, perceiving his attention, had the +complaisance to turn aside. For the window opened on to a balcony +wherein discreet palms sheltered off a nook. There was one of Lady +Donnisthorpe's guests who did not share her ladyship's complacency. A +censorious dowager sitting near to the window had kept an alert eye +upon the couple in the recess during the last three dances; and each +time that her daughter--a pretty girl with hair of the palest possible +gold, and light blue eyes that were dancing with a child's delight at +all the wonders of a first season--returned to the shelter of her +portly frame, the dowager drew moral lessons for her benefit from the +text of the oblivious couple. She remarked with pain upon their +increasing infatuation for each other; she pointed out to her daughter +a hapless youth who tiptoed backwards and forwards before Mrs. +Warriner, with a dance-card in his hand, too timorous to interrupt the +intimate conversation; and when Mrs. Warriner dropped a glove as she +stepped over the window-sill on to the balcony, the dowager nudged her +daughter with an elbow. + +"Now, Mabel, there's a coquette," she said. + +Charnock was close behind, and overheard the triumphant remark. + +"I beg your pardon," he said politely, "it was the purest accident." + +The dowager bridled; her face grew red; she raised her tortoiseshell +glasses and annihilated Charnock with a single stare. Charnock had the +audacity to smile. He stooped and picked up the glove. Mrs. Warriner +had indeed dropped the glove by accident; but since it fell in +Charnock's way and since he picked it up, it was to prove, like the +handbill at Gibraltar and the draft on Lloyd's bank, a thing trivial +in itself, but the opportunity of strange events. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + WHEREIN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA IMPROVE + THEIR ACQUAINTANCESHIP IN A BALCONY + + +Lady Donnisthorpe's house stood in Queen Anne's Gate, and the balcony +overlooked St. James's Park. There Charnock found Miranda; he leaned +his elbows upon the iron balustrade, and for a while neither of them +spoke. It was a clear night of early June, odorous with messages of +hedgerows along country lanes and uplands of young grass, and of bells +ringing over meadows. In front of them the dark trees of the Park +rippled and whispered to the stray breaths of wind; between the trees +one line of colourless lamps marked the footpath across the bridge to +the Mall; and the carriages on the outer roadway ringed that enclosure +of thickets and lawns with flitting sparks of fire. + +Charnock was still holding the glove which he had picked up on the +window-sill. + +"That's mine," said Miranda; "thank you," and she stretched out her +hand for it. + +"Yes," said Charnock, absently, and he drew the glove through his +fingers. It was a delicate trifle of white kid; he smoothed it, and +his hand had the light touch of a caress. "Miranda," he said softly +but distinctly, and lingered on the word as though the sound pleased +him. + +Miranda started and then sank back again in her chair with a quiet +smile. Very likely she blushed at this familiar utterance of her name, +and at the caressing movement of his hand which accompanied and +perhaps interpreted the utterance, or perhaps it was only at a certain +throb of her own heart that she blushed. At all events, the darkness +concealed the blush, and Charnock was not looking in her direction. + +The freshness of the night air had restored her, but she was very +willing to sit there in silence so long as no questions were asked of +her, and Charnock had rather the air of one who works out a private +problem for himself than one who seeks the answer from another. + +The clock upon Westminster tower boomed the hour of twelve. Miranda +noticed that Charnock raised his head and listened to the twelve heavy +strokes with a smile. His manner was that of a man who comes +unexpectedly upon some memento of an almost forgotten time. + +"That is a familiar sound to you," said Mrs. Warriner, and she was +suddenly sensible of a great interest in all of the past life of this +man who was standing beside her. + +"Yes," said Charnock, turning round to her. + +"You lived in Westminster, then? At one time I used to stay here a +good deal. Where did you live?" + +Charnock laughed. "You would probably be no wiser if I named the +street; it is not of those which you and your friends go up and down," +he replied simply. "Yes, I lived in Westminster for three hard, +curious years." + +"It's not only the years that are curious," said Miranda, but the hint +was lost, for Charnock had turned back to the balustrade. She was +still, however, inclined to persist. The details which Lady +Donnisthorpe had sown in her mind, now bore their crop. Interested in +the man, now that she knew him, she was also interested in his career, +in his hurried migratory life, in the mystery which enveloped his +youth, and all the more because of the contrast between her youth and +his. He had lived for three years in some small back street of +Westminster; very likely she had more than once rubbed shoulders +with him in the streets on the occasions when she had come up from her +home in Suffolk. That home became instantly very distinct in her +memories--an old manor-house guarded by a moat of dark silent water, a +house or broad red-brick chimneys whereon she had known the roses to +bloom on a Christmas-day, and of leaded windows upon which the boughs +of trees continually tapped. + +"I should like to show you my home," she said with a sudden impulse, +and did not check herself before the words were spoken. "Perhaps some +day," she continued hurriedly, "you will tell me of those three years +you spent in Westminster." And she hoped that he had not heard the +first sentence of the two. + +"I will make an exchange," said Charnock. "I will exchange some day, +if you will, the history of my three years for the history of your +trouble." He turned eagerly towards her, but she held up her hand. + +"Please, please!" she said in a low, shaking voice, for her distress +had come back upon her. She had begun, if not to forget it, at all +events to dull the remembrance of it since she had come out upon the +balcony. She had, in a word, sought and found a compensation in the +new friendship of this man, and a relief in his very _naïveté_. But he +had brought her anxieties back to her, as he clearly understood, for +he said: "That is the second time this evening. I am sorry." + +"The second time?" said Miranda, quickly. "Why do you say that?" + +"Am I wrong?" he asked. "Am I wrong in fearing that I myself have +brought on you the trouble which I fancied I was to avert? I should be +glad to know that I was wrong, for since I have stood here on this +balcony, that fear has been growing. Your face so changed at the story +I told you. At what point of it I do not know. I was not looking. Did +I show you some misfortune you were unaware of, and might still be +unaware of, if I had only held my tongue? In offering to shield you, +did I only strike at you? I do not know, I am in the dark." He spoke +in a voice of intense remorse, pleading for a proof that his fear was +groundless, and Miranda did not answer him at all. "I do not ask you +to speak freely now," he continued; "but sometime perhaps you will. +You see, we shall be neighbours." + +"Neighbours!" exclaimed Miranda, and her lips parted in a smile. + +"You live at Ronda, Lady Donnisthorpe tells me; my headquarters now +are at Algeciras;" and he told her briefly of his business there. + +"My cousin did not tell me that," said Miranda. + +Lady Donnisthorpe, in the wisdom of her heart, had, in fact, carefully +concealed Charnock's place of abode, thinking it best that Miranda +should learn it from Charnock's lips, and be pleasantly surprised +thereby. That Miranda was pleasantly surprised might perhaps have been +inferred by a more experienced man, from the extreme chilliness of her +reply. + +"Ronda is at the top," she said, "Algeciras at the bottom, and there +are a hundred miles of hillside and cork-forest between." + +"There are also," retorted Charnock, "a hundred miles of railway." + +"Shall we go back into the room?" suggested Miranda. + +"If you wish. Only there is something else I am trying to say to you," +said Charnock, and at that Miranda laughed, and laughed with a fresh +bright trill of amusement. It broke suddenly and spontaneously from +her lips and surprised Charnock, who was at a loss to reconcile it +with the signs of her distress. He turned towards her. "What is it?" +he asked. + +"Nothing," she said hastily, "nothing at all." + +"You wished to go in?" + +"Not now,--not for the world." + +She was genuinely amused. Her eyes laughed at him in the starlight. +Charnock was very content at the change in her, though he did not at +all understand it. It made what he meant to say easier, if he could +only find the means to say it. He held the means unwittingly in his +hand, for he held Miranda's glove. It was that glove which provoked +her amusement. Charnock, with a pertinacity which was only equalled by +his absence of mind, was trying to force his hand into Mrs. Warriner's +glove. He had already succeeded in slipping the long sleeve of it over +his palm; he was now engaged in the more strenuous task of fitting his +fingers into its slender fingers, as he leaned upon the balcony. + +"You are laughing, no doubt, at my pertinacity, and it is true that +our acquaintanceship is very slight," said he. + +"In a moment you will irretrievably destroy it," said she, looking at +the glove. + +"I hope you don't mean that," he answered sadly, as he smoothed +the finger-tip of the forefinger down upon his own, and at once +proceeded to the other fingers. The little finger in particular needed +a deal of strenuous coaxing, and caused him to break up his words with +intervals of physical effort. "Because--as I say--we shall be +neighbours--there!"--The exclamation "there" meant that he was +satisfied with the third finger.--"A hundred miles of hill-side--in a +foreign country--on a map a thumb will cover it." + +"Will it cover a thumb, though?" asked Miranda, who took a feminine +interest in the durability of her glove. She leaned forward in a +delighted suspense, as Charnock proceeded to answer her question by +experiment. + +"There's the railway too," said he, as he struggled with the thumb of +the glove, "and as I say, a foreign country. Very likely, we shall be +nearer neighbours, though you are at Ronda and I am at Algeciras, than +if you lived in this house and I at the house next door. Because after +all there's one advantage in trouble of any kind. Trouble is the short +foot-path to friendship, don't you think? Like that line of lamps +across the Park." + +Miranda forgot the glove. She was touched by the deep sincerity of his +voice, by the modesty of his manner. She rose from her chair and stood +by his side at the balustrade. "Yes," she answered, looking at the +circling lights on the outer rim of the Park. "I think that is true. +It spares one the long carriage-road of ceremonial acquaintanceship. +But," she said thoughtfully, "I do not know whether after all I shall +soon return to Ronda." + +She heard a little sound of something tearing, and there was Charnock +contemplating in amazement upon his left hand a white kid glove of +which the kid was ripped across the palm. He felt in his pocket with +his right hand and drew out both of his own gloves, which he had taken +off while he was talking in the alcove. Then he looked at Miranda and +his amazement became remorse. + +"It's yours!" he said. "Of course, I picked it up. I had forgotten +even that I was holding it. I had no notion that I was putting it on." + +"I gave you fair warning," said Miranda, with a frank laugh, "but you +would not pay any attention." + +Charnock looked at her with absolute incredulity. "You mean to say +that you don't mind? You are wonderful!" + +"It seems almost too late to mind," said she, looking at the tattered +glove. + +"Or to mend," said he, ruefully, drawing it off with extreme care, and +as a new thought struck him. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "suppose it had +belonged to anyone else, the dowager in the window, for instance." He +dangled the glove in the air. "Now that's a lesson!" + +"Perhaps it's a parable," said Miranda, as she took the glove from +him. + +Charnock saw that she had grown quite serious. "If so," said he, "I +cannot expound it." + +"Shall I?" The smile had faded from her lips, her eyes shone upon his, +with no longer a sparkle of merriment, but very still, very grave. + +"Yes." + +"Well, then," she said slowly, "shall I say that no man can offer a +woman his friendship or help without doing her a hurt in some other +way?" + +His eyes as steadily answered back to hers. "Do you believe that?" he +said. He spoke quite simply without raising his voice in any way, but +none the less Mrs. Warriner was certain that she had but to say "yes," +and there would be an end, now and forever, of his questions, of his +help, of his friendship, of everything between them beyond the merest +acquaintanceship. Perhaps some day they might cross the harbour +together in the same ferry from Algeciras to Gibraltar, and bow and +exchange a careless word, but that would be all--and only that until +his work was finished there. + +"Do you believe that?" + +She was half tempted to say "yes"; but she had an instinct, a +premonition, that whatever answer she made would stretch out to +unknown and incalculable consequences. She seemed to herself to be +drawing the lots which one way or another would decide and limit all +her years to come. Upon the tiny "yes" or "no" between which she had +to make her choice, her whole life was destined to pivot. Accordingly, +she made up her mind to say neither, but to turn the matter into a +jest. "Here's the proof," said she, as lightly as she could, and she +flourished the glove. + +But the man steadily held her to his question, with his eyes, with his +voice, with his very attitude. "Do you believe that?" he repeated. + +"I don't know whether I believe it," she murmured resentfully. "I +don't see why I should be asked to mean what I say, or whether I mean +what I say.... But it might be so, I think.... I don't know.... I +don't know." + +To her relief Charnock moved. If he had stood like that, demanding an +answer with every line of his body, for another instant, she knew she +would have been compelled to answer one way or another; and she felt +certain, too, that whatever answer she gave it would have been the one +she would have wished afterwards to take back. "Now if you are +satisfied," she added with a touch of petulance, "we will go in." + +He moved aside for her to pass, but before she had time to step +forward, he moved back again and barred the way. "No, please," he said +quickly, and his voice thrilled as though he had hit upon an +inspiration. + +"Lady Donnisthorpe told me you were rather unconventional," she +remarked with a sigh, which was only half of it a jest; and she drew +back as though she did not wish to hear what he had to say, as though +she almost feared to hear it. + +But Charnock barely even remarked her reluctance. "That glove," he +said, and pointed to it. Miranda imagined that he was reaching out a +hand for it. + +"I have _heaps_ of pairs," she exclaimed, whipping it behind her back; +"there is no need to trouble about it at all." + +"I do not ask for it; I had no thought of that. On the contrary, I +would ask you to keep it if you will. There is something else which I +was trying to say, if you remember." + +"Dear, dear!" said Miranda, ruefully, "I could wish after all that you +had trodden on my toes." + +"I beg your pardon," said Charnock, and instantly he drew aside. He +left the way clear for her. She passed him, and went towards the +window, from which the lights and the music streamed out into the +night. Had he followed, she would have stepped into the room, amongst +the dancers; she would have been claimed by a partner, and she would +have seen no more of Charnock, and the only consequences of this +interview upon the balcony would have been a memory in her thoughts, a +curiosity in her speculations. + +But Charnock did not follow her. He remained where she left him, and +her feet loitered more with every step she took. At the edge of the +window she stopped. For the second time that evening she became aware +that one way or other she must do the irrevocable thing. It was a mere +step to make across the sill of the window, from the stone of the +balcony to the parquet of the ball-room floor,--a thing insignificant +in itself and in its consequences most momentous. She stood for a +second undecided. The sight of her partner looking about the room +decided her. She came back to where Charnock stood in a soldierly +rigidity. + +"You might have come half-way to meet me," she said in a whimsical +complaint, and then very gently: "I will hear what you wish to say, if +you will still say it." + +"What I mean is this," he replied; "it is what I was trying to say. +The hardest thing, if one ever wants help, is--don't you think?--the +asking for it. I could not say that to you until I had hit upon a +means by which the asking, should it ever be necessary, might be +dispensed with. And it seemed to me that there was something +providential in my tearing that glove; for that torn glove can be the +means, if ever you see fit to use it. You live at Ronda; for the next +year I am to be found at Algeciras; you will only have to send that +torn glove to me in an envelope. I shall know without a word from you; +and when I answer it by coming up to you at Ronda, it will be +understood by both of us, again without a word, why I have come. I +shall not need to speak at all; you will only need to say the precise +particular thing which needs to be done." + +Miranda stood with her eyelids closed, and her ungloved hand pressed +over her heart. The blood darkened her cheeks. Charnock saw her whole +face soften and sweeten. "I understand," she said in a low voice. "I +might appeal and be spared the humiliation of appealing, like the face +in your mirror." + +"I believe," said he, "that my mirror sent me a message on that night. +I have tried to deliver it." + +Miranda slowly raised her eyes and they glistened with something other +than the starlight. "Thank you," she said; "for the delicacy of the +thought I am most grateful. What woman would not be? But I do not +think that I shall ever send you the glove: not because I would not be +glad to owe gratitude to you, but just for the same reason which has +kept me from telling you anything of my troubles. Such as they are I +must fight them through by myself." + +This time she passed over the sill into the ballroom; but she was +holding the glove tight against her breast, and she had a feeling that +Charnock very surely knew that at some time she would send it to him. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + WHILE CHARNOCK BUILDS CASTLES IN SPAIN, + MIRANDA RETURNS THERE + + +The anxious dowager, who was preparing to depart with her daughter, +had just risen from her seat by the window as Miranda stepped over the +sill into the ball-room. She sat down again, however, for she had a +word or two to say concerning Miranda's appearance. + +"Muriel," she observed, "take a good look at that woman, and remember +that if ever you sit out with one man for half-an-hour on a cool +balcony you can make no greater mistake than to return with a flushed +face." + +"Thank you, mother," said Muriel, who was growing restive under this +instructional use of an evening party. "I will take the first +opportunity of practising your advice." + +At this moment Charnock stepped over the sill. He stepped up to Mrs. +Warriner's side and spoke to her. Mrs. Warriner stopped within a +couple of yards of the dowager and gave her hand, and with her hand +her eyes, to her companion. + +"Muriel, look!" said the censorious one. "How vulgar!" + +"Shall I listen too?" asked Muriel, innocently. + +"Do, my child, do!" said the dowager, who was impervious to sarcasm. + +What was said, however, did not reach the dowager's ears. It was, +indeed, no more than an interchange of "good-nights," but the dowager +bridled, perhaps out of disappointment that she had not heard. + +"An intriguing woman I have no doubt," said she, as through her +glasses she followed Miranda's retreat. + +"Surely she has too much dignity," objected the daughter. + +"Dignity, indeed! My child, when you know more of the world, you will +understand that the one astonishing thing about such women is not +their capacity for playing tricks but their incredible power of +retaining their self-respect while they are playing them. Now we will +go." + +The dowager's voice was a high one. It carried her words clearly to +Charnock, who had not as yet moved. He laughed at them then with +entire incredulity, but he retained them unwittingly in his memory. +The next moment the dowager swept past him. The daughter Muriel +followed, and as she passed Charnock she looked at him with an +inquisitive friendliness. But her eyes happened to meet his, and with +a spontaneous fellow-feeling the girl and the man smiled to each other +and at the dowager, before they realised that they were totally +unacquainted. + +Lady Donnisthorpe was lying in wait for Charnock. She asked him to +take her to the buffet. Charnock secured for her a chair and an ice, +and stood by her side, conversational but incommunicative. She was +consequently compelled herself to broach the subject which was at that +moment nearest to her heart. + +"How did you get on with my cousin?" she asked. + +Charnock smiled foolishly at nothing. + +"Oh, say something!" cried Lady Donnisthorpe, and tapped with her +spoon upon the glass plate. + +"Tell me about her," said Charnock, drawing up another chair. + +Lady Donnisthorpe lowered her voice and said with great pathos: "She +is most unhappy." + +Charnock gravely nodded his head. "Why?" + +Lady Donnisthorpe settled herself comfortably with the full intention +of wringing Charnock's heart if by any means she could. + +"Miranda comes of an old Catholic Suffolk family. She was eighteen +when she married, and that's six years ago. No, six years and a half. +Ralph Warriner was a Lieutenant in the Artillery, and made her +acquaintance when he was staying in the neighbourhood of the Pollards, +that's Miranda's house in Suffolk. Ralph listened to Allan Bedlow's +antediluvian stories. Allan was Miranda's father, her mother died long +ago. Ralph captured the father; finally he captured the daughter. +Ralph, you see, had many graces but no qualities; he was a bad stone +in a handsome setting and Miranda was no expert. How could she be? She +lived at Glenham with only her father and a discontented relation, +called Jane Holt, for her companions. Consequently she married Ralph +Warriner, who got his step the day after the marriage, and the pair +went immediately to Gibraltar. Ralph had overestimated Miranda's +fortune, and it came out that he was already handsomely dipped; so +that their married life began with more than the usual disadvantages. +It lasted for three years, and for that time only because of Miranda's +patience and endurance. She is very silent about those three years, +but we know enough," and Lady Donnisthorpe was for a moment carried +away. "It must have been intolerable," she exclaimed. "Ralph Warriner +never had cared a snap of his fingers for her. His tastes were +despicable, his disposition utterly mean. Cards were in his blood; I +verily believe that his heart was an ace of spades. Add to that that +he was naturally cantankerous and jealous. To his brother officers he +was civil for he owed them money, but he made up for his civility by +becoming a bully once he had closed his own front door." + +"Yes, yes," interrupted Charnock, hurriedly, as though he had no heart +to hear more; "I understand." + +"You can understand then that when the crash came we were glad. Two +years after the marriage old Allan Bedlow sickened. Miranda came home +to nurse him and Ralph--he bought a schooner-yacht. Allan Bedlow died; +Miranda inherited, and the estate was settled upon her. Ralph could +not touch a farthing of the capital, and he was aggrieved. Miranda +returned to Gibraltar, and matters went from worse to worse. The crash +came a year later. The nature of it is neither here nor there, but +Ralph had to go, and had to go pretty sharp. His schooner-yacht was +luckily lying in Gibraltar Bay; he slipped on board before gunfire, +and put to sea as soon as it was dark; and he was not an instant too +soon. From that moment he disappeared, and the next news we had of him +was the discovery of his body upon Rosevear two years afterwards." + +Charnock hunted through the jungle of Lady Donnisthorpe's words for a +clue to the distress which Miranda had betrayed that evening, but he +did not discover one. Another question forced itself into his mind. +"Why does Mrs. Warriner live at Ronda?" he asked. "I have never been +there, but there are no English residents, I should think." + +"That was one of her reasons," replied Lady Donnisthorpe. "At least I +think so, but upon that too she is silent, and when she will not speak +no one can make her. You see what Ralph did was hushed up,--it was one +of those cases which are hushed up,--particularly since he had +disappeared and was out of reach. But everyone knew that disgrace +attached to it. His name was removed from the Army List. Miranda +perhaps shrank from the disgrace. She shrank too, I think, from the +cheap pity of which she would have had so much. At all events she did +not return home, she sent for Jane Holt, her former companion, and +settled at Ronda." Lady Donnisthorpe looked doubtfully at Charnock. +"Perhaps there were other reasons too, sacred reasons." But she had +not made up her mind whether it would be wise to explain those other +reasons before her guests began to take their leave of her; and so the +opportunity was lost. + +Charnock walked back to his hotel that night in a frame of mind +entirely strange to him. He was inclined to rhapsodise; he invented +and rejected various definitions of woman; he laughed at the worldly +ignorance of the dowager. "A woman, madam "--he imagined himself to be +lecturing her--"is the great gift to man to keep him clean and bright +like a favourite sword." He composed other and no less irreproachable +phrases, and in the midst of this exhilarating exercise was struck +suddenly aghast at the temerity of his own conduct that night, at the +remembrance of his persistency. However, he was not in a mood to be +disheartened. The dawn took the sky by surprise while he was still +upon his way. The birds bustled among the leaves in the gardens, and a +thrush tried his throat, and finding it clear gave full voice to his +song. The blackbirds called one to the other, and a rosy light struck +down the streets. It was morning, and he stopped to wonder whether +Miranda was yet asleep. He hoped so, intensely, for the sake of her +invaluable health. + +But Miranda was seated by her open window, listening to the birds +calling in the Park, and drawing some quiet from the quiet of the +lawns and trees; and every now and then she glanced across her +shoulder to where a torn white glove lay upon the table, as though she +was afraid it would vanish by some enchantment. + +But the next day Miranda packed her boxes, and when Charnock called +upon Lady Donnisthorpe, he was informed that she had returned in haste +to Ronda. Charnock was surprised, for he remembered that Mrs. Warriner +had expressed a doubt whether she would ever return to Ronda, and +wondered what had occurred to change her mind. But the surprise and +bewilderment were soon swallowed up in a satisfaction which sprang +from the assurance that Miranda and he were after all to be +neighbours. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + IN WHICH MAJOR WILBRAHAM DESCRIBES THE STEPS BY WHICH HE ATTAINED + HIS MAJORITY, AND GIVES MIRANDA SOME PARTICULAR INFORMATION + + +A month later at Ronda, and a little after midday. In the cool +darkness of the Cathedral, under the great stone dome behind the +choir, Miranda was kneeling before a lighted altar. That altar she had +erected, as an inscription showed, to the memory of Ralph Warriner, +and since her return from England she had passed more than an ordinary +proportion of her time in front of it. + +This morning, however, an unaccountable uneasiness crept over her. She +tried to shake the sensation off by an increased devoutness, but +though her knees were bent, there was no prayer in her mind or upon +her lips. Her uneasiness increased, and after a while it defined +itself. Someone was watching her from behind. + +She ceased even from the pretence of prayer. Her heart fluttered up +into her throat. She did not look round, she did not move, but she +knelt there with a sinking expectation, in the light of the altar +candles, and felt intensely helpless because their yellow warmth +streamed full upon her face and person, and must disclose her to the +watching eyes behind. + +She knelt waiting for a familiar voice and a familiar step. She heard +only the grating of a chair upon the stone flags beyond the choir, and +a priest droning a litany very far away. Here all was quiet--quiet as +the eyes watching her out of the gloom. + +At last, resenting her cowardice, she rose to her feet and turned. At +once a man stepped forward, and her heart gave a great throb of +relief, as she saw the man was a stranger. + +He bowed, and with an excuse for his intrusion, he handed her a card. +She did not look at it, for immediately the stranger continued to +speak, in a cool, polite voice, and it seemed to her that all her +blood stood still. + +"I knew Captain Warriner at Gibraltar," he said. "In fact I may say +that I know him, for he is alive." + +Miranda was dimly aware that he waited for an answer, and then excused +her silence with an accent of sarcasm. + +"Such good news must overwhelm you, no doubt. I have used all despatch +to inform you of it, for I was only certain of the truth yesterday." + +And to her amazement Miranda heard herself reply: + +"Then I discovered it a month before you did." + +The next thing of which she was conscious was a thick golden mist +before her eyes. The golden mist was the clear sunlight in the square +before the Cathedral. Miranda was leaning against the stone parapet, +though how she was there she could not have told. She had expected the +news. She had even thought that the man standing behind her was her +husband, come to tell her it in person; but nevertheless the mere +telling of it, the putting of it in words, to quote the stranger's +phrase, had overwhelmed her. Memories of afternoons during which she +had walked out with her misery to Europa Point, of evenings when she +had sat with her misery upon the flat house-top watching the riding +lights in Algeciras Bay, and listening to the jingle of tambourines +from the houses on the hillside below--all the sordid unnecessary +wretchedness of those three years spent at Gibraltar came crushing +her. She savoured again the disgrace which attended upon Ralph's +flight. Her first instinct, when she learned Ralph was alive, had +urged her to hide, and at this moment she regretted that she had not +obeyed it. She regretted that she had returned to Ronda, where Ralph +or any emissary of his at once could find her. + +But that was only for a moment. She had returned to Ronda with a full +appreciation of the consequences of her return, and for reasons which +she was afterwards to explain, and of which, even while she stood in +that square, she resumed courage to approve. + +The stranger came from the door of the Cathedral and crossed to her. + +"Your matter-of-fact acceptance of my news was clever, Mrs. Warriner," +he said with a noticeable sharpness. "Believe me, I do homage to +cleverness. I frankly own that I expected a scene of sorts. I was +quite taken aback--a compliment, I assure you, upon my puff," and he +bowed with his hand on his breast. "You were out of the Cathedral door +before I realised that all this time you had been the Captain's--would +you mind if I said accomplice?" + +That her matter-of-fact acceptance of the news was entirely due to the +fact that the news dazed her, Miranda did not trouble to explain. + +"The altar," continued the stranger, in a voice of genuine admiration, +"was a master-stroke. To erect an altar to the memory of a husband +who is still alive, to pray devoutly before it, is highly ingenious +and--may I say?--brave. Religion is a trump-card, Mrs. Warriner, in +most of the games where you sit with law and order for your opponents; +but not many women have the bravery to play it for its value." + +Miranda coloured at his words. There had been some insincerity in her +daily prayers before the altar, though the self-satisfied man who +spoke to her had not his finger upon the particular flaw,--enough +insincerity to cause Miranda some shame, now that she probed it, and +yet in the insincerity there had been also something sincere. The +truth is, Miranda could bring herself to wish neither that her husband +was dead if he was alive, nor that he should come to life again if he +was dead; she made a compromise--she daily prayed with great fervour +for his soul's salvation before the altar she had erected to his +memory. But this again was not a point upon which she troubled to +enlighten her companion. She was more concerned to discover who the +man was, and on what business he had come. + +"You knew my husband at Gibraltar," she said, "and yet--" + +"It is true," replied the man, in answer to her suspicion. "You need +not be afraid, Mrs. Warriner. I have not come from Scotland Yard. I +have had, I admit, relations with the police, but they have always +been of an involuntary kind." + +"You assume," said she, with some pride, "that I have reason to fear +Scotland Yard, whereas nothing was further from my thoughts. Only you +say that you knew my husband at Gibraltar. You pretend to come from +him--" + +"By no means. We are at cross-purposes, I fancy. I do not come from +him, though most certainly I did know him at Gibraltar. But I admit +that he never invited me to his house." + +"In that case," said Miranda, with a cold bow, "I can do no more than +thank you for the news you give me and wish you a good day." + +She walked by him. He turned and imperturbably fell into step by her +side. "Clever," said he, "clever!" Miranda stopped. "Who are you? What +is your business?" she asked. + +"As to who I am, you hold my card in your hand." + +Mrs. Warriner had carried it from the Cathedral, unaware that she held +it. She now raised it to her eyes and read, _Major Ambrose Wilbraham_. + +Wilbraham noted, though he did not understand, the rapid, perplexed +glance which she shot at him. Charnock had spoken to her of a Major +Wilbraham, had described him, and undoubtedly this was the man. "As to +my business," he continued, "I give you the news that your husband is +alive, but I have also something to sell." + +"What?" + +"Obviously my silence. It might be awkward if it was known in certain +quarters that Captain Warriner, who sold the mechanism of the new +Daventry quick-firing gun to a foreign power; who slipped out of +Gibraltar just a night before his arrest was determined on, and who +was wrecked a year ago in the Scillies, is not only alive, but in the +habit of paying periodical visits to England." + +Mrs. Warriner again read the name upon the card. "Major Ambrose +Wilbraham," she said, with an incredulous emphasis on the _Major_. + +"Captains," he retorted airily, "have at times deviated from the +narrow path, so that a Major may well be forgiven a peccadillo. But I +will not deceive you, Mrs. Warriner. The rank was thrust upon me by a +barman in Shaftesbury Avenue, and I suffered it, because the title +after all gives me the entrance to the chambers of many young men who +have, or most often have not, just taken their degrees. So Major I am, +but my mess is any bar within a mile of Piccadilly Circus. Shall we +say that I hold brevet rank, and am seconded for service in the noble +regiment of the soldiers of fortune?" + +"And the enemies you fight with," said Miranda, with a contemptuous +droop of the lips, "are women like myself." + +"Pardon me," retorted Wilbraham, with unabashed good humour. "Women +like yourself, Mrs. Warriner, are the _vivandières_ whom we +regretfully impress to supply our needs upon the march. Our enemies +are the rozzers--again I beg your pardon--the gentlemen in blue who +lurk at the street corners, by whom from time to time we are worsted +and interned." + +They walked across the square along a narrow street down towards the +Tajo, that deep chasm which bisects the town. The heat was intense, +the road scorched under foot, and they walked slowly. They made a +strange pair in the old, quaint streets, the woman walking with a +royal carriage, delicate in her beauty and her dress; the man defiant, +battered and worn, with an eye which from sheer habit scouted in front +and aside for the chance which might toss his day's rations in his +way. + +Their talk was stranger still, for by an unexpressed consent, the +subject of the bargain to be struck was deferred, and as they walked +Wilbraham illustrated to Miranda the career of a man who lives by his +wits, and dwelt even with humour upon its alternations of prosperity +and starvation. "I have been a manager of theatrical companies in 'the +smalls,'" he said, "a billiard-marker at Trieste, a racing tipster, a +vender of--photographs, and I once carried a sandwich-board down Bond +Street, and saw the women I had danced with not so long before draw +their delicate skirts from the defilement of my rags. However, I +rose to a better position. It is funny, you know, to go right under, +and then find there are social degrees in the depths. I have had +good times too, mind you. Every now and then I have struck an A1 +copper-bottomed gold mine, and then there were dress suits and meals +running into one another, and ormolu rooms on the first floor." + +Dark sayings, unintelligible shibboleths, came and went among his +words and obscured their meaning; accents and phrases from many +countries betrayed the vicissitudes of his life; but he spoke with the +accent of a gentleman, and with something of a gentleman's good +humour; so that Miranda, moved partly by his recital and perhaps +partly because her own misfortunes had touched her to an universal +sympathy, began to be interested in the man who had experienced so +much that was strange to her, and they both slipped into a tolerance +of each other and a momentary forgetfulness of their relationship as +blackmailer and blackmailed. + +"I could give you a modern edition of Don Guzman," he said. "I was a +money-lender's tout at Gibraltar at one time. It's to that I owed my +acquaintance with Warriner. It's to that I owe my present acquaintance +with you." He came to a dead stop in the full swing of narration. He +halted in his steps and banged the point of his stick down into the +road. "But I have done with it," he cried, and drawing a great breath, +he showed to Miranda a face suddenly illuminated. "The garrets and the +first floors, the stale billiard rooms, the desperate scouting for +food like a damned sea-gull--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Warriner. Upon my +word, I do! But imagine a poor beggar of a bankrupt painter who, after +fifteen years, suddenly finds himself with a meal upon the table and +his bills paid! I am that man. Fifteen years of what I have described +to you! It might have been less, no doubt, but I hadn't learnt my +lesson. Fifteen years, and from first to last not one thing done of +the few things worth doing; fifteen years of a murderous hunt for +breakfast and dinner! And I've done with it, thanks to you, Mrs. +Warriner." And his face hardened at once and gleamed at her, very +cruel and menacing. "Yes, thanks to you! We'll not forget that." And +as he resumed his walk the astounding creature began gaily to quote +poetry: + + + "I resume + Life after death; for 'tis no less than life + After such long, unlovely labouring days. + + +A great poet, Mrs. Warriner. What do you think?" + +"No doubt," said Miranda, absently. That one cruel glance had chilled +the sympathy in her; Major Wilbraham would not spare either Ralph or +herself with the memory of those fifteen years to harden him. + +They came to the Ciudad, the old intricate Moorish town of tortuous +lanes in the centre of Ronda. Before a pair of heavy walnut doors +curiously encrusted with bright copper nails Wilbraham came to a stop. +"Your house, I think, Mrs. Warriner," and he took off his hat and +wiped his forehead. + +"I should prefer," said she, "to hear what you have to say in the +Alameda." + +"As you will. I am bound to say that I could have done with a soda and +I'm so frisky, but I recognise that I have no right to trespass upon +your hospitality." + +They went on, crossed a small plaza, and so came down to the Tajo. A +bridge spans the ravine in a single arch; in the centre of the bridge +Miranda stopped, leaned over the parapet and looked downwards. +Wilbraham followed her example. For three hundred feet the walls of +the gorge fell sheer, at the bottom the turbulence of a torrent foamed +and roared, at the top was the span of the bridge. In the brickwork of +the arch a tiny window looked out on air. + +"Do you see that window?" said Miranda, drily. "The prison is +underfoot in the arch of the bridge." + +"Indeed, how picturesque," returned Wilbraham, easily, who was quite +untouched by any menace which Miranda's words might suggest. Miranda +looked across the road towards a guardia. Wilbraham lazily followed +the direction of her glance; for all the emotion which he showed +blackmail might have been held in Spain an honourable means of +livelihood. Miranda turned back. "That window," she said, "is the +window of the prison." + +"The view," remarked Wilbraham, "would compensate in some measure for +the restriction." + +"Chains might add to the restriction." + +"Chains _are_ unpleasant," Wilbraham heartily agreed. + +Miranda realised that she had tempted defeat in this little encounter. +She accepted it and walked on. + +"You were wise to come off that barrow, Mrs. Warriner," Wilbraham +remarked in approval. + +They crossed the bridge and entered the Mercadillo, the new Spanish +quarter of the town, ascended the hill, and came to the bull ring. +Before that Wilbraham stopped. "Why do we go to the Alameda?" + +"We can talk there on neutral ground." + +"It seems a long way." + +"On the other hand," replied Miranda, "the Alameda is close to the +railway station. By the bye, how did you know where I lived?" + +"There was no difficulty in discovering that. I learnt at Gibraltar +that you lived at Ronda, and the station-master here told me where. +When I saw your house I did not wonder at your choice. You were wise +to take a Moorish house, I fancy--the patio with the tamarisks in the +middle and the fountain and the red and green tiles--very pleasant, I +should think. A door or two stood open. The rooms seemed charming, low +in roof, with dark panels, of a grateful coolness, and so far as I +could judge, with fine views." + +"You went into the house, then?" exclaimed Miranda. + +"Yes, I asked for you, and was told that Miss Holt was at home. I +thought it wise to go in--one never knows. So I introduced myself, but +not my business, to Miss Holt--your cousin, is she not? A profound +sentimentalist, I should fancy; I noticed she was reading _Henrietta +Temple_. She complained of being much alone; she nurses grievances, no +doubt. Sentimentalists have that habit--what do you say?" Miranda +could have laughed at the shrewdness of the man's perceptions, had she +not been aware that the shrewdness was a weapon directed against her +own breast. + +They reached the Alameda. Miranda led the way to a bench which faced +the railings. Wilbraham looked quickly and suspiciously at her, and +then walked to the railings and looked over. The Alameda is laid out +upon the very edge of the Ronda plateau, and Wilbraham looked straight +down a sheer rock precipice of a thousand feet. He remained in that +posture for some seconds. From the foot of that precipice the plain of +the Vega stretched out level as a South-sea lagoon. The gardens of a +few cottages were marked out upon the green like the squares of a +chess-board; upon the hedges there was here and there the flutter of +white linen. Orchards of apples, cherries, peaches, and pears, +enriched the plain with their subdued colours, and the Guadiaro, freed +from the confinement of its chasm, wound through it with the glitter +and the curve of a steel spring. A few white Moorish mills upon the +banks of the stream were at work, and the sound of them came droning +through the still heat up to Wilbraham's ears. + +Wilbraham, however, was not occupied with the scenery, for when he +turned back to Miranda his face was dark and angry. + +"Why did you bring me to the Alameda?" he asked sternly. + +"Because I will not listen to you in my own, house," she answered with +spirit. + +Wilbraham did not resent the reason, but he watched her warily, as +though he doubted it. + +"Now," said Miranda, as she stood before him. "You tell me that my +husband is living. I have your bare word for it, and out of your lips +you have proved to me that your bare word has very little worth." + +"The buttons are off the foils," said he; "very well. In the Cathedral +you corroborated my word. You know that he lives; I know it." + +"How do you know it?" + +"By adding two and two and making five, as any man with any savvy +always can," replied Wilbraham. "Indeed, by adding two and two, one +can even at times make a decent per annum." + +Mrs. Warriner sat down upon the bench, and Wilbraham, standing at her +side, presented the following testimonial to his "savvy." First of +all, he drew from one pocket four pounds of English gold, and from the +other a handful of dollars and pesetas. "This is what is left of two +hundred and thirty pounds, which I won at Monte Carlo in the beginning +of May. There's a chance for philosophy, Mrs. Warriner. If I hadn't +won that money I shouldn't be standing here now with my livelihood +assured. For I shouldn't have been able to embark on the P. and O. +mail steamer _India_ at Marseilles, and so I shouldn't have fallen in +with my dear young friend Charnock." + +Miranda fairly started at the mention of Charnock's name in connection +with Wilbraham's discovery. Instantly Wilbraham paused. Miranda made +an effort to look entirely unconcerned, but Wilbraham's eye was upon +her, and she felt the blood colouring her cheeks. + +"Oho!" said Wilbraham, cocking his head. Then he whistled softly to +himself while he looked her over from head to foot. Miranda kept +silence, and he resumed his story, though every time he mentioned +Charnock's name he looked to surprise her in some movement. + +"Off Ushant we came up with a brigantine, and I couldn't help fancying +that her lines were familiar to me. Charnock lent me his binoculars--a +dear good fellow, Charnock!--and I made out her name, the _Tarifa_. I +should not have given the boat another thought but for Charnock. +Charnock said she had the lines of a Salcombe clipper. Did you happen +to know that the _Ten Brothers_ was a Salcombe clipper? I did, and the +moment Charnock had spoken I understood why the look of her hull was +familiar; I had seen her or her own legitimate sister swinging at +Warriner's moorings in Algeciras Bay. I did not set any great store +upon that small point, however, until Charnock kindly informed me that +her owner could have gained no possible advantage by altering her rig +from a schooner's into a brigantine's. Then my interest began to rise, +for he had altered the rig. Why, if the change was to his +disadvantage? I can't say that I had any answer ready; I can't say +that I expected to find an answer. But since I landed at Plymouth, +from which Salcombe is a bare twenty miles, I thought that I might as +well run over. One never knows--such small accidents mean everything +for us--and, as a matter of fact, I spent a very pleasant half-hour in +the back parlour of the Commercial Inn, watching the yachts at anchor +and the little sailing boats spinning about the river, and listening +to an old skipper, who deplored the times when the town rang with the +din of hammers in shipbuilding yards, and twelve--observe, Mrs. +Warriner, twelve--schooners brought to it the prosperity of their +trade. The schooners had been sold off, but the skipper had their +destinies at his fingers' ends as a man follows the fortunes of his +children. Two had been cast away, three were in the Newfoundland +trade, one was now a steam-yacht, and the others still carried fruit +from the West Indies. He accounted for eleven of them, and the +twelfth, of course, was the _Ten Brothers_ wrecked upon Rosevear. I +eliminated the _Ten Brothers_, the two which had been cast away, and +the steam-yacht. Eight were left." + +"Yes?" said Mrs. Warriner. + +"I went back to Plymouth and verified the skipper's information. He +had given me the owners' names and the names of the vessels. I looked +them up in the sailing-lists and I proved beyond a shadow of doubt, +from their dates of sailing and arrival at various ports, that not one +of those eight schooners could have been the brigantine we passed off +Ushant. There remained, then, the four which I had eliminated, or +rather the three, for the steam-yacht was out of the question. Do you +follow?" + +Miranda made a sign of assent. + +"Those three boats had been cast away. Two of them belonged to +respectable firms, the third to Ralph Warriner. It would of course be +very convenient for Ralph Warriner, under the circumstances, to be +reputed dead and yet to be alive with a boat in hand, so to speak. On +the other side, would it profit either of the two respectable firms to +spread a false report that one of their boats had been cast away? +Hardly; besides, it would of course be to Warriner's advantage, from +the point of view of concealment, to change the rig and the name of +his boat. It was all inference and guess-work, no doubt. Charnock, for +instance, might have been entirely wrong; the _Tarifa_ might never +have been anything but the _Tarifa_ and a brigantine; but the +inference and the guess-work all pointed the one way, and I own that +my interest was rapidly changing to excitement. My suspicions were +strengthened by the behaviour of the _Tarifa_ herself. No news of her +approach was recorded in the papers. She didn't make any unnecessary +noise about the port she was bound for, nor had she the manners to +pass the time of day with any of Lloyd's signal-stations. The +_Tarifa's_ business began to provoke my curiosity. Here was (shall we +say?) a needless lack of ceremony to begin with. It didn't seem as if +the _Tarifa_ had many anxious friends awaiting her arrival. Besides +that, supposing that my suspicions were right, that the _Tarifa_ was +the _Ten Brothers_ masquerading under another name, and that perhaps +Ralph Warriner was on board, it stood to reason Ralph Warriner would +not risk his skin in an English port, without a better reason than a +cargo of trade. Comprenny, Mrs. Warriner? I was guessing, +conjecturing, inferring; I had no knowledge. So I thought the cargo of +the _Tarifa_ was the right end of the stick to hang on to. If I could +know the truth about that, I should be in a better position to guess +whether it had anything to do with Ralph Warriner. Is that clear?" + +It was clear enough to Miranda, who already felt herself enmeshed in +the net of this man's ingenious deductions. "Yes," she said. + +"Very well. From the brigantine's course, she was evidently making for +one of the western harbours. I lay low in Plymouth for a couple of +days, and read the shipping news. That wasn't all I did during those +two days, though. I went to the Free Library besides, overhauled the +file of the _Western Morning News_ and assimilated information about +the inquest at St. Mary's. The faceless mariner chucked up on Rosevear +struck one as interesting. I noticed too that there had been a good +many wrecks in the Channel during the heavy weather and the fog just +about that time. But before I had come to any conclusion, I opened my +newspaper on the third morning and read that the _Tarifa_ had dropped +her anchor at Falmouth. I took the first train out of Plymouth, and +sure enough I picked the _Tarifa_ up in Falmouth docks. Then I made +friends with the port-officers, but I got never a glimpse of Ralph +Warriner." + +Miranda's hopes revived. She knew very well that Ralph Warriner was +not at that time in Falmouth. For the moment, however, she let +Wilbraham run on. + +"I frankly admit that my hopes sank a little," he continued. "Of +course Warriner might have been put ashore; but it seemed to me +impossible to obtain sufficient certainty of my suspicions unless I +actually clapped eyes on him." + +Miranda agreed, and her prospects of escaping from this man's clutches +showed brighter; for she was not in a mood of sufficient calmness to +enable her to realise that Wilbraham would hardly have been so frank, +if he had not by now at all events acquired absolute certainty. + +"My hopes were to sink yet more," Wilbraham continued. "The brigantine +passed for a tramp out from Tarifa with a cargo of fruit. I saw that +cargo unloaded. There was no pretence about it; it was a full cargo of +fruit. The boat was sailing back to Tarifa with a cargo of alkali, and +I saw that cargo stowed away in her hold. Mrs. Warriner, my spirits +began to revive. That cargo of alkali was most uncommon small; the +profit on it wouldn't have paid the decky's wages. Again I inferred. I +inferred that the alkali was a blind, and that the _Tarifa_ meant to +pick up a cargo of another sort somewhere along the coast, though what +the cargo would be I could not for the life of me imagine." + +"But it is all guess-work," said Miranda, with an indifference which +she was far from feeling. + +"I learned one piece of solid cheering information from my friends the +port-officers," retorted Wilbraham. "The _Tarifa's_ papers were all +quite recent, and yet she was an old boat. She was supposed to be +owned by her master." + +"And no doubt was," added Miranda, with an assumption of weariness. + +"It appeared that her saloon had caught fire; the saloon had been +gutted and the _Tarifa's_ papers destroyed a year before," Wilbraham +resumed, untroubled by Mrs. Warriner's objections. "A pretty careless +captain that, eh? A most uncommon careless captain, Mrs. Warriner? For +a boat to lose her papers--well, its pretty much the same as when a +girl loses her marriage lines in the melodramas. A most uncommon +careless captain! Or a most astute one, you say. What? Well, I'll not +deny but what you may be right. For that brigantine caught fire and +burned her papers just about the date when the _Ten Brothers_ went +ashore on Rosevear. How's that for the long arm?" + +"But you did not see my husband," said Miranda, stubbornly. + +"And why?" asked Wilbraham, and answered his question. "Because your +husband wasn't onboard." + +"Then the whole story falls to the ground," exclaimed Miranda, as she +rose from her seat. + +"Wait a bit, Mrs. Warriner," said Wilbraham, and he sat down on the +seat and nursed his leg. "The _Tarifa_ was supposed to belong to her +master, who went by the name of John Wilson. Now here's a funny thing. +I never saw John Wilson, though I prowled about the docks enough. The +port-officers described him to me, a grizzled seafaring man of fifty; +but he was always snug in his cabin, and a mate did the show business +with the cargo. I grew curious about John Wilson; I wanted to see John +Wilson. Accordingly I located the chart-room from the wharf, then I +put on a black thumb tie and a dirty collar so as to look like a +clerk, and I walked boldly down the gangway and stepped across the +deck. I chose my time, you understand. I knocked at the chart-room +door. 'Come in,' said a voice, and in I walked. Mrs. Warriner, you +could have knocked me down with that dainty parasol of yours if you +had been present when I first saw John Wilson. + +"'What do you want?' says he, short and sharp. + +"'Will you take a load of cotton to Valencia?' says I, and I quoted an +insignificant price. + +"'I am not such a fool as you look,' said he, and out I went and shook +hands with myself on the quay. For John Wilson--" + +"Was not my husband," exclaimed Miranda, with almost a despairing +violence. "He was not! He was not!" + +"You are right, Mrs. Warriner, he was not. But he was a man whom you +and I knew as Thomas Discipline, first mate of the schooner-yacht the +_Ten Brothers_, of which Captain Ralph Warriner was the certificated +master. And observe, please, the whole crew of the _Ten Brothers_ was +reported lost upon Rosevear." + +"Thomas Discipline might have left the _Ten Brothers_ before," argued +Miranda. "His presence on the _Tarifa_ does not connect my husband +with that boat." + +"That's precisely the objection which occurred to me," said Wilbraham, +coolly. "But here was at last a fact which fitted in with my +guess-work, and I own to being uplifted. That evening I got the ticket +that the _Tarifa_ was to put to sea the next day, and sure enough in +the morning she swung out into the fairway and waited for the evening +ebb. I passed that day in an altogether unenviable state of anxiety, +Mrs. Warriner; for if by any chance I was wrong, if she did not mean +to take up another cargo of a more profitable kind by dark, if she +were to sail clean away for Ushant on the evening ebb, why, the boat +might be the _Ten Brothers_ or it might not, and the master might be +the late Captain Warriner or he might not. Any way the bottom fell +clean out of my little business. But she did not; she got her anchors +in about eight o'clock and reached out towards the Lizard in the dusk +with a light wind from the land on her beam." + +"The story so far," Miranda interrupted, "seems nautical, but hardly +to the point." + +"Think so?" said Wilbraham, indifferently. "Did I mention that at the +mouth of the harbour the _Tarifa_ passed a steam launch pottering +around the St. Anthony Light? Between you and me, Mrs. Warriner, I was +holding the tiller of that steam launch." + +"You!" she exclaimed. + +"Just poor little me," said he, smiling politely, "with a few paltry +thick-uns in my pocket to speculate in the hire of a steam launch. I +gave the _Tarifa_ a start and followed, keeping well away on her lee +with her red light just in view. That first half-hour or so was a +wearing time for me, Mrs. Warriner, I assure you," and he took off his +hat and wiped his forehead, as though the anxiety came back upon him +now. He laboured his breath and broke up his sentences with short +nervous laughter. He seemed entirely to forget his companion, and the +sun, and the Andalusian sierras across the plain; he was desperately +hunting the _Tarifa_ along the Spit to the Lizard point. + +"I was certain of one thing: that no Captain Warriner had come aboard +at Falmouth. So if the _Tarifa_ kept out to sea, why, there was no +Captain Warriner to come aboard, and here was I spending my last +pounds in running down a will-o'-the-wisp, and the world to face again +to-morrow in the grim old way, without a penny to my purse. On the +other hand, if there was a Captain Warriner, he would come aboard with +the cargo somewhere that night, and I fancied I could lay my finger on +that somewhere. I had another cause for anxiety. Grant my guess-work +correct, and the last thing the _Tarifa_ was likely to hanker after +would be a wasp of a steam launch buzzing in her wake. The evening was +hazy, by a stroke of luck, but the wind was light and the sea smooth, +and my propeller throbbed out over the water until I thought it must +reverberate across the world, and the Esquimaux on Franz Josef Land +and the Kanaka in the Pacific would hear it plain as the pulsing of a +battleship. However, I slowed the launch down to less than half-speed, +and the crew of the _Tarifa_ made no account of me. The brigantine was +doing only a leisurely five knots--she was waiting for the dark, I +conjectured. Conjectured? I came near to praying it. And as if in +answer to my prayer--it sounds pretty much like blasphemy now, doesn't +it?--but at that moment I believed it--all at once her red light +vanished and my heart went jumping in the inside of me as though it +had slipped its moorings. For the _Tarifa_ had changed her course; she +was pointing closer to the wind and the wind came offshore; she was +showing me her stern instead of her port beam; on the course she was +lying now she couldn't clear the Manacles--not by any manner of means. +She was heading for the anchorage I hoped she would; she was standing +in towards Helford river. In a little she went about, and seeing her +green light, I slowed down again. I could afford to take it easy." + +He drew a breath of relief and lolled back upon his seat. Miranda no +longer put questions; there was a look of discouragement upon her +face; she began bitterly to feel herself helpless in this man's hands, +as clay under the potter's thumb. + +"Do you know the creek?" he asked, and did not wait for an answer. "I +hadn't anchored there for twenty years, but I had a chart of it in my +memories." His voice softened, with perhaps some recollection of a +yachting trip in the days before his life had grown sour. "Steep hills +on each side, and on each side woods. The trees run down and thrust +their knees into the water like animals at their watering places of an +evening. A mile or so up, a little rose and honeysuckle village +nestles as pretty as a poem. There's a noise of birds all day, and all +night and day the trees talk. Given a westerly wind, and the summer, I +don't know many places which come up to Helford river," and his voice +ceased, and he sat in a muse. A movement at his side recalled him. +"But that's not business, you say," he resumed briskly. "I left the +_Tarifa_ at the mouth of the creek. The little village a mile or more +up is on the southward side; opposite to it, on the Falmouth side, is +the coast-guard station; nearer to the mouth, and still on the +Falmouth side, a tiny dingle shelters a school-house and half-a-dozen +cottages, and still nearer, the road from Falmouth comes over the brow +of the hill and dips down along the hill-side. At one point the steep +hill-side is broken, there's an easy incline of sand and bushes and +soil between the water and the road. The incline is out of sight of +the coast-guard. Besides, it is only just round the point and close to +the sea. And for that reason I was in no particular hurry to follow +the _Tarifa_. I edged the launch close in under the point, waded +ashore, and scrambled along in the dark until I reached the break in +the hill-side. Then I lay down among the bushes and waited. All lights +were out on the _Tarifa_, but I could see her hull dimly, a blot of +solid black against the night's unsubstantial blackness. I waited for +centuries and æons. There was neither moon nor any star. At last I +heard a creaking sound that came from the other end of the world. It +was repeated, it grew louder, it became many sounds, the sounds or +cart wheels on the dry road. I looked at my watch; the glimmer of its +white face made it possible for me to tell the hour. It was five +minutes to eleven. For five minutes the sounds drew infinitesimally +nearer. Higher up the creek six bells were struck upon a yacht, and +then over the waters from the direction of the _Tarifa_ came +cautiously the wooden rattle of oars in the rowlocks of a boat. A +boat, I say, but it was followed by another and another. The three +boats grounded on the sand as the carts reached the break in the +hill-side. There were few words spoken, and no light shown. I lay in +the bushes straining my ears to catch a familiar voice, my eyes on the +chance that a match might be struck and light up a familiar face." + +"Well?" said Miranda, breaking in upon his speech. She was strung to a +high pitch or excitement, and her face and voice betrayed it. + +"I was disappointed," replied Wilbraham, "but I saw something of the +cargo which the waggons brought over the hill and the boats carried on +board. Backwards and forwards between the _Tarifa_ and the shore they +were rowed with unremitting diligence and caution, carrying first +longish packing-cases of some weight, as I could gather from the +conduct of the men who stumbled with them down the incline. And after +the packing-cases, square boxes, yet more unwieldy than the long +cases, if one takes the proportion of size. The morning was breaking +before the last boat was hoisted on board, and the last waggon had +creaked out of hearing over the hill." + +"And what was the cargo?" asked Miranda. + +"That was the question which troubled me," replied Wilbraham. "I lay +on the hill-side in the chill of the morning as disheartened a man as +you can imagine. Through a break in the bushes I watched the _Tarifa_ +below me, her decks busy with the movement of her crew and from her +galley the comfortable smoke coiling up into the air. Breakfast! A +Gargantuan appetite suddenly pinched my stomach. Had Warriner gone on +board with the cargo? And what was the cargo? And into what harbour +would the _Tarifa_ carry it? I had found out nothing. Then on board +the brigantine men gathered at the windlass, a chain clinked musically +as the anchor was hove short, the gaff of her mainsail creaked up the +mast, and the festoons of her canvas were unfolded. The _Tarifa_ was +outward bound and I had discovered nothing. I was like a man tied hand +and foot and a treasure within his reach. I had had my fingers on the +treasure. Again the chain rattled on the windlass; she broke out her +foresail and her jib; I saw the water sparkle under her foot and +stream out a creaming pennant in her wake. I had lost. In the space of +a second I lived through every minute of my last fifteen years and +their dreary vicissitudes. I lived in anticipation through another +fifteen similar in every detail, and fairly shuddered to think there +might be another fifteen still to follow those. I stretched myself out +and ground my face in the sand and cursed God with all my heart for +the difference between man and man. And meanwhile the _Tarifa_, with a +hint of the sun upon her topsails, slipped out over the tide to sea." + +Wilbraham's face was quite convulsed by the violence of his +recollections; and with so vivid a sincerity, with a voice so mutable, +had he described the growth and extinction of his hopes, that Miranda +almost forgot their object, almost found herself sympathising with his +endeavours, almost regretted their failure--until she remembered that +after all he had not failed, or he would not have been sitting beside +her in the Alameda. + +"Well," she said in a hard voice, "you failed. What then?" + +"I crawled down to my launch, the cheapest man in the United Kingdom. +My engineer was muffled up in a pilot jacket and uncommon surly and +cheap too. I hadn't the pluck left in me to resent his impudence, and +we crept back to Falmouth. All the way I was pestered with that +question, 'What was the cargo I had seen shipped that night in Helford +river?' I couldn't get it out of my head. The propeller lashed it out +with a sort of vindictiveness. The little waves breaking ashore +whispered about it, as though they knew very well, but wouldn't peach. +When I had landed in Falmouth, I found that I was walking towards the +Free Library. The doors, however, were still closed. I breakfasted in +a fever of impatience and was back again at the doors before they were +opened. You may take it from me, Mrs. Warriner, I was the first +student inside the building that morning. I read over again every +scrap of news and comment about the inquest in Scilly which I could +pester the Librarian to unearth; and points which in my hurry I had +overlooked before, began to take an air of importance. The old man +Fournier, for instance; it seemed sort of queer that a taxidermist of +Tangier should come all the way to Scilly for a month's holiday. Eh, +what? What was old man Fournier doing at Scilly? Scilly's a likely +place for wrecks. Was old man Fournier a hanger-on upon chance, a +nautical Mr. Micawber waiting for a wreck to turn up which would suit +his purpose? Or had he stage-managed by some means or other the _coup +de theater_ on Rosevear? It seemed funny that the short-sighted man +should spot the wreck on Rosevear before the St. Agnes men, eh? +Suppose M. Fournier and Ralph Warriner were partners in that pretty +cargo! I walked straight out of that library, feeling quite certain +that I held the right end of the skein. I had made a mistake in +following up Warriner. I ought to have followed up the taxidermist. I +walked about Falmouth all that day puzzling the business out; and I +came to the conclusion that the sooner I crossed to the Scillies the +better. I was by this time fairly excited, and I think I should have +spent my last farthing in the hunt even if I had known that when I had +run the mystery to earth, it would not profit me at all. I took a +train that very evening, and pottered about from station to station +all night. In the morning I got to Penzance, and kicked my heels on +the wharf of the little dock there until nine o'clock, when the +_Lyonnesse_ started for St. Mary's. Three hours later I saw the +islands hump themselves up from the sea, and I stared and stared at +them till a genial being standing beside me said, 'I suppose you +haven't been home for a good many years.'--By the way, Mrs. Warriner," +he suddenly broke off, "I have heard that natural sherry is a drink in +some favour hereabouts. I can't say that it's a beverage I have ever +hankered after before, but what with the sun and the talk, the thought +of it is at the present moment most seductive. What if we rang down +the curtain for ten minutes and had an _entr'acte_, eh? Would you +mind?" And Wilbraham rose from his seat. + +"No," said Miranda. "Please finish what you have to say now." + +Wilbraham sighed, resumed his seat and at the same time his story. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + EXPLAINS THE MYSTERY OF THE "TARIFA'S" CARGO + + +"At St. Mary's," he continued, "I called at once upon the doctor. +'Ah,' said he, 'liver, I suppose.' + +"'Permanently enlarged by excessive indulgence in alcohol,' said I. 'I +had once a very dear friend in the same case called Ralph Warriner.'" + +Here Miranda interrupted with considerable indignation. "There is not +a word of truth in that." + +"There is not," Wilbraham agreed pleasantly; "but I had to introduce +the subject some way, and my way was successful. 'Ralph Warriner!' +exclaimed the doctor. 'And what was he dismissed the service for?' I +winked very slowly, with intense cunning; 'I understand,' said the +doctor, with a leer, though Heaven only knows what he did understand; +I fancy he thought his reputation as a man of the world was at stake. +After that the conversation went on swimmingly. + +"I was more than ever convinced that the discovery on Rosevear was a +put-up job. If so, old man Fournier must have been aware of that wreck +before he discovered it. He must have landed on the island and shoved +those papers into the dead man's pocket; and someone must have sailed +him out to the island. I determined to lay myself out to discover who +that someone was; but I went no farther than the determination. There +was not indeed any need that I should, for I sailed myself the next +day to Rosevear. I hired the _St. Agnes_ lugger, and Zebedee Isaacs, +as he sat at the tiller, gave me news of old man Fournier. Old man +Fournier was a desperate coward on the sea, yet he had put out to the +Bishop on a most unpleasing day. It was old man Fournier who insisted +that they should run through the Neck and examine Rosevear, and when +Zebedee Isaacs declined the risk, old man Fournier flung himself in a +passion on the tiller and nearly swamped the boat. All very queer, eh? +M. Fournier must have had some fairly strong motive to nerve him to +that pitch of audacity. And what that motive was I should discover +when I discovered the nature of the _Tarifa's_ cargo. I thought +perpetually about that cargo, all the way to Rosevear, and after I had +landed on that melancholy island. The truth came upon me in a moment +of inspiration. The ground I remember gave way under my foot. I had +trodden on a sea-bird's nest and stumbled forward on my knees, and +with the shock of the stumble came the inspiration. I remained on my +knees, with the gulls screaming overhead, and the grey wastes of ocean +moaning about the unkindly rocks. And I knew! The taxidermist from +Tangier, the longish packing-cases, the square boxes--Ralph Warriner +and old man Fournier were running guns and ammunition into Morocco!" + +Miranda could not repress an exclamation. She had no doubt that +Wilbraham was right; the theory fitted in with Ralph's adventurous +character. M. Fournier no doubt made the arrangements, and provided +the capital; Ralph worked the cargo across from England to Morocco. +And to make it safe for himself to venture upon English soil, he had +altered the rig of the _Tarifa_ in some unfrequented port, and somehow +arranged the deception concerning his death. + +"You think as I thought in Rosevear," said Wilbraham, looking shrewdly +into her face. "I only wish you could participate in the delight I +felt. I had my fingers on the secret now, and it was such a perfect, +profitable secret, for, quite apart from the other affair, gun-running +in Morocco is itself an offence against the law. I fairly hugged +myself. 'Ambrose,' said I, 'never in all your puff have you struck +anything like this. Fouché you shall trample under foot and Sherlock +Holmes shall be your washpot; you are the best in the world. The +faceless mariner was a fraud, a freak from Barnum's. Here at last is +Eldorado, and there's no fly anywhere upon the gilding.' Thus, Mrs. +Warriner, I soliloquised, and took the next boat back to Penzance; +from Penzance I travelled by train to Plymouth; from Plymouth I sailed +in an Orient boat to Gib, and from Gib I crossed to Tangier, where I +had a few minutes' conversation with one or two officers of the +custom-house. + +"Morocco as a social institution has many points of convenience which +it is useful for men like Warriner and myself to know. Here's a small +case in point. If you wish to smuggle forbidden goods into the +country, you hire the custom-house officials to unload your cargo for +you at night somewhere on the beach. Thus you avoid much trouble, all +chance of detection and you secure skilled workmen. I had no doubt +that Warriner had followed this course. So I hired the custom-house +officials to tell me the truth, and out it came. The _Tarifa_ had +landed its cargo in the bay a mile and a half from Tangier a couple of +days before I arrived, and M. Fournier had supervised the unloading, +and the captain of the _Tarifa_ was no longer the grizzled sea-dog, +Mr. Thomas Discipline, but a gentleman of a slight figure, blue eyes, +and fair hair. That middle-aged cherub, in a word, with whom you and I +are both familiar, and who now calls himself Mr. Jeremy Bentham. When +I had derived this information I walked into M. Fournier's shop and +bought a stuffed jackal. There was a tourist making purchases, so I +asked my question quietly as I leaned my elbows on the counter. + +"'How did you work the situation on Rosevear?' said I, 'and how's my +sweet friend, Ralph Warriner?' + +"The little Frenchman turned white and sick. He babbled expostulations +and denials. He demanded my name--" + +"You gave him your card, I hope," interrupted Miranda, biting her lip. +Wilbraham gazed at her with admiration. "Well, you have got some +spirit. I will say that for you, Mrs. Warriner." + +"I am not in need of testimonials," said Miranda. "What of M. +Fournier?" + +"He talked to me mysteries after that. 'You were in Tangier a month +ago,' said he. 'You shouted "Look out!" through the door; you startled +a friend of mine; you are a coward.' Would you believe it, the little +worm turned? He flew into a violent passion; I suppose it was in just +such a passion that he flung himself on Zebedee Isaacs at Scilly. A +plucky little man for all his cowardice! He called me a number of ill +names. However, I had got what I wanted. I crossed back to Gibraltar, +and here I am." + +Wilbraham crossed his legs, and with a polite "You will permit me?" +lighted a cigarette. + +"I see," said Miranda, with a contemptuous droop of her lips. "Having +failed to blackmail M. Fournier and my husband, you fall back upon +blackmailing a woman." + +Wilbraham's answer to the sneer was entirely unexpected, even by +Miranda, who was prepared for the unexpected in this man. He showed no +shame; he did not try to laugh away the slur; but removing his +cigarette from his mouth, he turned deliberately his full face to her +and in a deliberate voice said: "I do not take the conventional view +upon these matters. And, all other things being equal, had I to choose +between a man and a woman, I should spare the man and strike the +woman." + +He spoke without any bitterness, but in a hard, calm voice, as though +he had sounded the question to the bottom. Miranda gasped, the words +for a second took her breath away, and then the blood came warmly into +her cheeks, and her eyes softened and brightened and she smiled. A +sudden glory seemed to illuminate her face. Wilbraham wondered why. He +could not know that the brutal shock of his speech had sent her +thoughts winging back to a balcony overlooking St. James's Park, where +a man had held a torn glove in his hand and in a no less decided voice +than Wilbraham's had spoken quite other words. + +"I never intended to address either Fournier or your husband upon the +subject of--shall we call it compensation? At the best I should have +got a lump sum now and again from them, and as I say, I have learnt my +lesson. If I had a lump sum, it would be spent, and I should again be +penniless. I apply to you because I propose a regular sum per annum +paid quarterly in advance." + +Miranda was still uplifted by the contrast between her recollections +and Wilbraham's words. She had the glove at home locked up, an +evidence that succour was very near--a hundred miles only down the +winding valley which faced her--and she had not even to say a word in +order to command it. When she spoke again to Wilbraham she spoke +emboldened by this knowledge. + +"And what if I were to refuse you even a shilling for your dinner?" + +"I should be compelled to lay my information before the proper +authorities, that Ralph Warriner is alive and may at times be captured +in England." + +"Would you be surprised to hear that Mr. Warriner committed no crime +for which he could be captured?" + +"I should be surprised beyond words. Mr. Warriner sold the mechanism +of the Daventry gun to a foreign government." + +"Are you so sure of that?" + +"I was his agent." + +"You! Then you are also his accomplice." + +"True,--and I look forward to turning Queen's evidence." + +Miranda withdrew from the contest. The discussion was hardly more than +academic, for she knew both that her husband was alive and that this +particular crime he had committed. + +"What is your price?" she asked, and she sat down upon the bench. + +Wilbraham did not immediately reply. He took a pocket-book from his +coat and a letter from the pocket-book. + +"I should wish you fully to understand the strength of my position," +he said. "This letter you will see is in your husband's handwriting. +This passage," and he folded the letter to show Miranda a line or two, +"enjoins me to be very careful about the plans. The gun is not +mentioned by name, but the date of the letter and the context leave no +possible doubt." + +He fluttered the letter under Miranda's eyes and within reach of her +fingers. + +"It is my one piece of evidence, but a convincing piece." + +He made a pretence of dropping it at her feet and snatched it up +quickly. Then he replaced it in his pocket-book and shut up his +pocket-book with a snap. + +"Why didn't you snatch at it?" he exclaimed with irritation. + +"Why did you wish me to snatch at it?" she replied. + +"Because--because," he said angrily, "you have made me feel real mean, +as mean as a man in the commission of his first dishonourable act +towards a woman, and I wanted you to look mean at all events; it would +have made my business easier to handle. Well, let's have done with it. +I know Ralph Warriner is alive. I can give information which may lead +to his capture; and there's always the disgrace to publish." + +He blurted out the words, ashamed and indignant with her for the shame +he felt. Miranda, in spite of herself, was touched by Wilbraham's +manner, and she answered quite gently: "Very well. I will buy your +silence." + +"Coals of fire!" he replied with a sneer. Miranda understood that he +was defying her to make him feel ashamed. "Is that the ticket, Mrs. +Warriner? It won't lessen the amount of the per annum I can assure +you. What I propose is to live for the future in some more or less +quiet hole, where none of my acquaintances are likely to crop up. +Tarifa occurred to me; for one thing I can reach you from Tarifa; for +another I can do the royal act at Tarifa on a moderate income; for a +third it is a quiet place where I can have a shot at--well, at what I +want to do," and his voice suddenly became shy. She looked at him and +he coloured under her glance, and he shifted in his seat and laughed +awkwardly. + +Miranda was familiar with those signs and what they signified. +Wilbraham wanted her to ask him to confide in her. Many men at +Gibraltar had brought their troubles to her in just this way, with +just these marks of diffidence, this fear that the troubles would bore +her. She had been called upon to play the guardian-angel at times and +had not shrunk from the responsibility, though she had accepted it +with a saving modesty of humour at the notion of herself playing the +guardian-angel to any man. + +"What is it you want to do?" she asked, and Wilbraham confided in her. +The position was strange, no doubt. Here was a woman whom he had +bullied, whom he meant to rob, and on whom he meant to live until he +died, and he was confiding in her. But the words tumbled from his lips +and he did not think of the relationship in which he stood to her. He +was only aware that for fifteen years he had not shared a single one +of his intimate thoughts with either man or woman, and he was +surcharged with them. Here was a woman, frank, reliable, who asked for +his confidence, and he gave it, with a schoolboy's mixture of +eagerness and timidity. + +"Do you know," said he, "the Odes of Horace have never been well +translated into English verse by anyone? Some people have done an ode +or two very well, perhaps as well as it could be done--Hood for +instance tried his hand at it. But no one has done them all, with any +approach to success. And yet they ought to be capable of translation. +Perhaps they aren't--I don't know--perhaps they are too wonderfully +perfect. Probably I should make an awful hash of the job; but I think +I should like to have a shot. I began years and years ago when I was +an attaché at Paris, and--and I have always kept the book with me; but +one has had no time." As he spoke he drew from his side pocket a +little copy of Horace in an old light-brown cover of leather very much +frayed and scratched. "Look," said he, and half stretched it out to +her, as though doubtful whether he should put it into her hands or +refuse to let her take it at all. She held out her hand, and he made +up his mind and gave it into her keeping. + +The copy was dated 1767; the rough black type, in which all the s's +looked like f's, was margined by paper brown with age and sullied with +the rims of tumblers and the stains of tobacco; and this stained +margin was everywhere written over with ink in a small fine hand. + +"You see I have made a sort of ground-work," said Wilbraham, with a +deprecating laugh, as though he feared Miranda would ridicule his +efforts. The writing consisted of tags of verse, half-lines, here and +there complete lines, and sometimes, though rarely, a complete stanza. +"You must not judge by what you see there," he made haste to add. "All +I have written on the margin is purely tentative; probably it's no +good at all." Miranda turned over a page and came upon one ode +completely translated. "I did that," explained Wilbraham, "one season +when I shipped as a hand on a Yarmouth smack. We got bad weather on +the Dogger Bank, out in the North Sea at Christmas. We spent a good +deal of time hove to with the wheel lashed, and on night-watches I +used to make up the verses. Indeed, those night-watches seem the only +time I have had free during the last fifteen years. The rest of the +time--well, I have told you about it. I got through one complete ode +out in the North Sea, and did parts of others." + +Mrs. Warriner began to read the ode. "May I?" she asked. + +"Of course," said he, with a flush of pleasure, and he watched her +most earnestly for the involuntary signs of approval or censure. But +her face betrayed neither the one nor the other; and he was quick to +apologise for the ode's shortcomings. + +"You mustn't think that I had a great deal of time on those +night-watches. For one thing we did not get over-much sleep on the +voyage, and so one's brains no doubt were a trifle dull. Besides, +there were always seas combing up above the bows and roaring along the +deck. You had to keep your eyes open for them and scuttle down the +companion before they came on board. Otherwise, if the weight of the +water took you, it was a case of this way to the pit. The whole hull +of the smack disappears, and you just see the foresail sticking up +from the hungry, lashing tumble of green water. So, you see, it stands +to reason that ode is subject to revision." + +But Miranda was not thinking of the ode. She had a vision of the smack +labouring on a black night in the trough of a black sea flecked with +white, at Christmas time, and a man on the watch, who had been an +attaché at Paris, and was, even with the rude sailor-folk for his +companions, engaged in translating Horace; and the vision had an +exquisite pathos for her. + +"What was the beginning of it all?" she asked in a low voice, and +since Wilbraham was in the train of confidences, he told her that too. + +He told her perhaps more than he meant to tell. It was an old story, +the story of the faithless woman and the man who trusts her, and what +comes of it all. The story of Helen and Menelaus, but disfigured into +a caricature of its original by the paltriness of the characters and +the vulgarity of the incidents. The throb of primitive passion was +gone from the story, and therefore all dignity too. Subtle and +intricate trivialities of sentiment took the place of passion, and +made the episode infinitely mean. Menelaus was an attaché at Paris: +Helen lived at Knightsbridge, and the pair of them were engaged to be +married. Helen was faithless merely through a cheap vanity, and a +cheaper pose of wilfulness, and even so she was faithless merely in a +low and despicable way. It was an infidelity of innumerable +flirtations. She passed from arm to arm without intermission, and +almost allowed those who fondled her to overlap. Yet all the day she +talked of her pride, and was conscious of no inconsistency between the +vulgarity of her conduct and the high words upon her lips. She +practised all the small necessary deceits to conceal her various +meetings and appointments, and was unaware of the degradation they +involved; for still she talked loudly of her pride. And when Menelaus +lifted his hat and wished her good-morning, she only felt that she was +deeply aggrieved. + +Menelaus, however, was in no better case. He had not the strength to +thrust her from his mind, but let his thoughts play sensuously with +his recollections, until he declined upon a greater and a greater +weakness. + +"I went back to Paris," continued Wilbraham. "I had good prospects, +but they came to nothing. Even now men going in for Mods. have to get +up a book which I once wrote, and as for the service, if I were to +tell you my real name, it is just possible that you might have heard +it, for I was supposed to have done something quite decent at +Zanzibar. Well, I went back to Paris. It's a hard thing, you know, to +discover that the woman you have been working for, and in a way +succeeding for, isn't worth the nicotine at the bottom of your +pipe-bowl. At that time I reckon I would rather have been the wreck I +am now, and believed it was all my fault, for, you see, I might then +have imagined that if I had done all right, I should have won the +desirable woman.... Anyway, after I got back to Paris, a little while +after, there was trouble." Wilbraham examined his cane and drew +diagrams upon the ground. "The woman blabbed, in a moment of +confidence ... to her husband. There was a sort of a scandal.... I had +to go. I didn't blame the woman who blabbed; no, Mrs. Warriner, I +blamed the first woman, the woman in Knightsbridge. Was I right? I +came back to England. I was a second son, and my father slammed +the door in my face. Then, Mrs. Warriner, I blamed all women, +you--you--you amongst the others, even though I didn't know you." He +spoke in a gust of extraordinary violence, and so brought his +confidences to an end. "Now your income is--" he resumed, and fetched +out his pocket-book again. "I made a note about your estate when I was +doing business with Warriner," he said. "The note comes in usefully +now." + +He found the details of which he was in search, and made a neat little +sum at the corner of the leaf, to which Miranda paid no attention +whatsoever. The queer inclination towards pity which had moved her to +ask for his confidence, had been entirely and finally destroyed by the +confidence she had asked for. The story was so utterly sordid; the +characters in it so utterly puny. Before he told it he had acquired in +her eyes even a sort of dignity, the dignity of a man battered and +defeated in a battle wherein his wits were unequally matched against +the solid forces of order; but in the telling he had destroyed that +impression. Miranda had no feeling now but one of aversion for the +wreck of a man at her side. She looked at the Horace, which still lay +open on her lap, and the contrast between the fine scholar's +handwriting and the stains of the pothouse had no longer any power to +touch her. She set the book down on the bench, and stood up. + +Wilbraham stopped his calculations, and, with the stump of his pencil +in his mouth, looked at her alertly and furtively. She took a step or +two towards the parapet of the Alameda. Wilbraham instantly laid his +pocket-book on the seat with the pencil to mark the place, and without +any noise, stood up. Miranda reached the railings at the edge of the +gardens and leaned her arms upon it. The next moment she felt a firm +grip upon her elbow. She turned round and saw Wilbraham's face ablaze +with passion. "I suspected that," he said fiercely, "when first I saw +where you had brought me," and he shook her elbow. + +"Suspected what?" exclaimed Miranda, and she drew away to free herself +from his grasp. Wilbraham's next movement answered her question. For +he slipped between her and the railings with a glance at the precipice +below. + +"But you shall not do it," he continued. "I was robbed that way once +before; I'll take care the robbery is not repeated." He leaned his +back against the railings and shook his finger at her. + +"Besides, there's no sense in it," and he jerked his head backwards to +signify the abysm. "You are crying out before you are hurt. You don't +even know how much I want; I shan't ruin you. I made a mistake that +way once; I had the best secret conceivable, and ran my man down +across two continents. Then I was fool enough to put my hand too deep +in his sky, and I suppose he thought--well, he blew his brains out +that night, and then was I robbed." + +Mrs. Warriner stared at him with a growing horror in her eyes. "You +murdered him," she said slowly. + +"We won't quarrel over words," said Wilbraham, callously. + +Miranda walked back to the bench. She was not troubled to explain +Wilbraham's misconception of her movement. She was only anxious to be +rid of him. "What income do you want?" she asked. + +"You have three thousand a year," he returned. "Of that I take it +Warriner takes a largish slice." + +Miranda flushed. "My husband has never asked for a farthing since the +_Ten Brothers_ slipped out of Gibraltar. He has never received a +farthing," she said angrily. + +"An imprudent remark," said Wilbraham. "I might feel inclined to raise +my price." + +"At all events you shall not slander him." + +Wilbraham looked at her with his head cocked on one side. "You are +very loyal," said he, with genuine admiration. "I will not raise my +price." + +Miranda did not, by any gesture or word, acknowledge his compliment. +She stood over against him with a face just as hard and white as he +had shown to her. + +"I say seven hundred a year," he said briefly. "I will call for it +myself every quarter." + +"I will send it to you," she interrupted. + +"I prefer to call for it," said he; for so he concealed his own +address and kept her within his reach. "You will not leave Ronda even +for a week without giving me due notice of your destination. I will +take a quarter's payment to-day. You draw on a bank in Ronda, I +suppose, so a cheque will serve." + +"If you will wait here, I will bring you the cheque." + +Twenty minutes afterwards she returned with it to the Alameda, where +she found Wilbraham seated on the bench with his Horace in his hand. +He put down the book awkwardly, and rose. He had the grace to feel +some discomfort as he took the cheque, and that discomfort his manner +expressed. + +Miranda had no word, no look, for him. He stood perhaps for the space +of a minute fingering the cheque. Then he said suddenly: "I can't +imagine what a woman like you sees in Ralph Warriner to trouble about. +In your place I should have let him go his own way, without paying to +keep him out of prison." + +Miranda kept her reasons to herself, as she had done with the reason +of her return to Ronda. She waited for him to go, and he walked +sullenly away--for ten yards. Then he returned, for he had left his +copy of Horace lying upon the bench. He picked it up with a curious +and almost timorous glance of appeal towards Miranda. She did not move +but waited implacably for his departure. Wilbraham worked his +shoulders in discomfort. + +"My clothes don't fit and God hates me," he cried irritably. Then this +jack-in-the-box of fortune slunk out of her sight. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + SHOWS THE USE WHICH A BLIND MAN MAY MAKE + OF A DARK NIGHT A WEEK + + +A week after Wilbraham's departure from Ronda, the night fell very dark +at Tangier. In the Sôk outside the city gate, the solitary electric lamp +from its tall mast threw a pale light over a circle of the trampled +grass, but outside the circle all was black. There was no glimmer in +the tents of the shoemakers at the upper corner of the Sôk; nor was +there any stir or noise. For it was past midnight and the world was +asleep--except at one spot on the hill-side above the Sôk, and a +little distance to the right. + +There a small villa, standing by itself, shone gaudily in the heart of +the blackness. From its open windows a yellow flood of light streamed +out, and besides the light, the music of a single violin and the +rhythmical beat of feet. There were other noises too, such as the +popping of corks, and much laughter. + +Outside the villa, and beyond the range of its light, a man and a boy +sat patient and silent. The man for his sole clothing wore a sack, but +a dark cloak lay on the ground beside him. With his hands he +continually tested a cord twisted from palmetto fibres, as though +doubtful of its strength. At length the door of the villa opened. + +"Who comes out?" asked the man. + +"A man and a woman," answered the boy. + +"Describe the man to me." + +"Big, fat--" + +"That is enough." + +The man and the woman passed through the little garden of the villa, +and walked down across the Sôk towards the city gate. The door opened +again and again. There was a continual sound of leave-taking in +different languages, mostly German and French, and between the man and +the boy the same dialogue was repeated and repeated. Some wore evening +dress, others did not. Some walked across the Sôk, others rode. + +"They are all gone," said the boy. + +"Wait," commanded the man. + +"They are putting out the lights." + +"Are all the lights out?" + +"No, one light is burning." + +"Wait!" + +The door opened again, and two men in evening dress came out on to the +steps. + +"There are two men," said the boy, "but only one wears a hat." + +"Describe him to me." + +"He is not tall, he is thin, but I cannot see his face for his hat." + +"Look! look well!" + +"He goes back into the house. He takes off his hat. Wait! He is +smoking. He strikes a match and holds it to his mouth. I can see him +now." + +"Well! Of what colour is his hair?" + +"Very fair--yellow. His face is round, his eyes are light." + +The man in the sack ceased from his questions, but he gave no sign of +either approval or disappointment. He sat still in the darkness until +a voice from the little garden cried out with a French accent: "I +cannot think what has come to the beast. He has got loose. And he was +hobbled, Jeremy. You did hobble him, _hein?_" + +The boy began to laugh. "The little fat Christian is looking for the +mule in the garden," said he. "Hush!" whispered the man, laying his +hand upon the boy's mouth. "Listen! What does the other answer? Listen +for his voice." + +"He does not answer," returned the boy. "He leans against the door, +and smokes and waits, while the little fat Room searches for the +mule." + +"Help to find the mule!" + +The boy laughed again, rose from the ground, and disappeared into the +darkness. In a few minutes he returned, driving the mule in front of +him. He drove it through the wicket of the garden. A few words passed +between the little Frenchman and the boy. Then the boy came back to +the man seated patiently outside the rim of the villa's lights. + +"What did he say to thee?" said the man. + +"He asked me if I had stolen the hobbles." + +"And thou didst answer?" + +"That I knew nothing of the hobbles. I said that I had found the mule +loose in the Sôk, and seeing the lights, brought it to the house." + +"It is well. Now go, my son; go home and sleep, and forget the hours +we have waited in the darkness outside the villa of the Room. Forget, +so that in the morning they shall never have been. Go! God will reward +thee!" + +The boy turned upon his heel, and ran down towards the town. The man +was left alone. He remained squatting on the ground. He heard the +French voice exclaim: "Good-night, Jeremy." + +But no answering voice returned the wish. Jeremy indeed contented +himself with a careless nod of the head, mounted his mule, and passed +out of the wicket gate. Jeremy passed within ten yards of the man +seated upon the ground, who heard the padding of the mule's feet upon +the grass and smelt the cigar. + +He did not move, however. A road ran between this stretch of grass and +the Sôk beyond, and he waited until the mule's hooves rang upon it. +Then he picked up the dark cloak by his side and ran swiftly and +noiselessly down the grass, across the road, over the trampled Sôk. +Ahead of him he heard the leisurely amble of the mule. + +"Stop!" he cried out in the Moghrebbin dialect. "I have the hobbles of +the most noble one." + +He heard the mule stop, and ran lightly forward. + +"Who is it?" asked Jeremy, in the same tongue, as he bent round in his +saddle. + +"Hassan Akbar," cried the other, leaping at the point from which the +voice came. "Bentham, it is Hassan Akbar." + +The man addressed as Bentham turned quickly in his saddle with a cry +and gathered up the reins; but he was too late. Even the cry was +stifled upon his lips. For Hassan threw the cloak over his head, +gathered it in tight round his neck, and still holding him by the +neck, dragged him out of the saddle and flung him on to the ground. +Bentham, half-throttled, half-stunned, lay for a moment or two upon +his back, limp and unresisting. When he came to himself, it was no +longer within his power to resist, for Hassan knelt straddled across +his body, pinning him to the ground with the weight of his stature. +One bony knee pressed upon his chest insufferably. Bentham's ribs +cracked under it; he felt that his ribs were being driven into his +lungs. The other knee held down his thighs, and while he lay there +incapable of defence, Hassan bound his arms tightly together with the +cord of palmetto fibres. + +Bentham tried to shout, but the cloak was over his mouth: the knee was +grinding and boring into his chest, and his shout was an exiguous wail +which, when it had penetrated the cloak, was no more than a sigh. He +waited for the moment when the knee would be removed, and waited +motionless without a twitch of his muscles, so that Hassan might be +deceived into the belief that he had swooned, and remove his knee and +the cloak. + +Hassan removed his knees, bent down to Bentham, twined one arm about +his legs, thrust the other underneath his neck, and lifted him from +the ground as though he was a child. Bentham was now less able to +shout than before, for the hand of the arm which was about his neck +pressed the cloak close upon his mouth. + +Bentham struggled for his breath; Hassan's arms only tightened their +grip and held him like a coil of wire. An utter terror seized upon +Bentham. He remembered the darkness of the night, the lateness of the +hour, the silence of the Sôk, and from the manner of Hassan's walk, he +knew that he was being carried up the hill and away from Tangier. He +was helpless in the hands of a Moor whom he had irreparably wronged. +Death he knew he must expect; the question which troubled him was what +kind of death. + +Hassan's foot struck against a rope drawn tight across his path, and +in Bentham hope for a moment revived. The rope was the stay of a tent, +no doubt. What if Hassan had lost his way and stumbled among the tents +of the shoemakers? But Hassan loosened the grip of the arm which held +his legs, and Bentham heard him fumbling with his hand for the +door-flap of the tent. Plainly Hassan had not missed his way. + +Hassan dropt him on the ground, thrust him through the small opening, +and crawled in after him. Then he knelt beside Bentham, turned back +the cloak from his face, but tied it securely about his mouth. Bentham +could now see, and the flap of the tent was open. The tent was indeed +one of the low, tiny gunny-bag tents of the shoemakers, but it was set +far apart from that small cluster, as Bentham recognized in despair, +for through the aperture he could see a long way below him and a long +way to his right the electric light in the middle of the Sôk. + +Outside the tent there was a sound of something moving. Bentham sat up +and tore at his gag with his bound hands. + +"Why cry for help to a mule?" said Hassan, calmly. "Will a mule help +thee?" He leaned forward and tightened the knot which fastened the +cloak at the back of his head. Then he crawled out of the tent and +Bentham heard him tethering the mule to one of the tent-pegs. + +Bentham was thus left alone. He had a few seconds, and he had at once +to determine what use he would make of those seconds. There was not +enough time wherein to free his hands. It would have been sheer waste +of time to free his mouth from the cloak. For none was within earshot +of that tent who would be concerned to discover the reason of a cry, +and the cry would not be repeated, since Hassan outside the tent was +still within arm's reach. + +Instead, he hitched and worked his white waistcoat upwards from the +bottom, leaning forward the while, until his watch fell from the +pocket and dangled on the end of the chain; after his watch a metal +pencil-case rolled out and dropped between his knees. One of the two +things he meant to do was done. Hassan had bound his hands not palm +to palm, but wrist across wrist; and raising his hands he was able +with the tips of his right-hand fingers to feel in the left-hand +breast-pocket of his dress-coat. His fingers touched a small +pocket-book, opened it, and plucked out a leaf of paper. This leaf and +the pencil-case he secreted in the palm of his hand. + +Hassan crawled back into the tent and closed the flap. Bentham, with +his knees drawn up to his chin, crouched back against the wall of the +tent. Now that the flap was closed, it was pitch-dark; that, however, +made no difference to Hassan Akbar, who lived in darkness, and out of +the darkness his voice spoke. + +"The ways of God are very wonderful. You gave me this tent. With the +dollar you dropped on my knees at the gate of the cemetery, I bought +this tent and set it up here apart, to keep you safe for the little +time before you start upon your journey." + +Bentham took no comfort from the passionless voice, though his heart +leaped at the words. He was not then to be killed. He did not answer +Hassan, but remained crouched in his corner. + +"Now the dog of a Christian will speak," said Hassan, quietly. Bentham +made no movement. Hassan crawled towards him, felt his feet, his +up-drawn knees, and reaching his face untied the cloak from his mouth. +"Now the dog of a Christian will speak," he repeated softly, in a low +gentle voice, "so that I may know it is indeed Bentham, who took +shelter with me at Tangier, and ate of my _kouss-kouss_, and +thereafter betrayed me." + +Bentham did not reply. If Hassan had a doubt, then it was his part to +make the most of it to prolong the solution of the doubt, to defer it, +if it might be, till the morning came. This was summer--July--the +morning comes early in July, not so early as in June, but still early. +Would that this had happened one month back! + +Hassan kneeled upon his hams by Bentham's side. "Will not the dog of a +Christian speak?" he asked in a wheedling voice, which daunted and +chilled the man he spoke to. "Let us see!" And again his sinuous hands +lingered and stole over Bentham's face. The thumbs lingered about +Bentham's eyes. + +Bentham shivered; but still, though the desire to shout, to curse, to +relieve by some violence, if only of speech, the tension he was +suffering, was strong, he mastered himself, he held his tongue, for if +once he did speak he betrayed himself. His only chance lay in Hassan's +doubt, which lived upon his silence. Again Hassan's fingers returned +to his face. Bentham closed his eyes; the thumbs touched and retouched +them, now pressing gently upon the eyeballs, now working about the +corners of the sockets. Finally Hassan snatched his hands away. "If I +did that," he murmured, "they would not take him, for he would fetch +no price;" and Bentham understood the fate which was in store for +him--if he spoke. + +Hassan left his side, and was busy in a corner of the tent, at what +Bentham could not for the moment discover. He heard a cracking of +twigs; what was to follow? One instant he dreaded, the next he burned +to know, and all the while he shivered with terror. Hassan struck a +match and lit the twigs, and breathed upon the little blue flames, +until they warmed to yellow, and spirted up into a fire. + +Bentham watched Hassan's gaunt, disfigured, inexpressive face, as he +crouched over the twigs, and his terror increased. He saw that he held +something in each hand, something that flashed bright, like a disk of +iron. Hassan laid the disks upon the twigs; they were the hobbles +which Bentham had placed upon his mule early that evening. + +Bentham began to count the seconds; at any moment the morning might +begin to break, surely, surely. As he watched the hobbles growing hot +and the sparks dance upon the iron, he continued to count the seconds, +not knowing what he did, and at an incredible speed. + +Hassan picked up the hobbles, each with a cleft stick, and brought +them over to Bentham. "Now the dog of a Christian will speak," said +he. + +Bentham summoned all his courage, all his strength, and was silent. +Hassan reached out his hands, and drew his legs from under him, and +fitted the hobbles over his slippers, and fixed them round his ankles +like a pair of fetters. + +Bentham uttered a cry--it was almost a scream--as the iron burnt into +his flesh. He kicked, he struggled to free his legs, to free his +hands; but Hassan Akbar dragged him forward, thrust him down upon his +back, and pinned his shoulders to the ground. Bentham could do no more +than vainly writhe in convulsive movements of his limbs. The hot iron +rings clung to his ankles; the smoke from the wood fire choked him; +the smell of burning flesh was acrid in his nostrils. Agony redoubled +his strength, but even so, he was too crippled, and Hassan's grasp +upon his shoulders did not relax. + +In the end Hassan had his heart's desire, and Bentham spoke. He spoke +too in the low voice which Hassan enjoined, though he used it without +thought to obey,--low, voluble, earnest prayers for mercy, and then +again voluble curses, and again voluble appeals for pity, and at the +end of it a broken whimpering, as though his strength was gone, and +the convulsive jerks which a fish makes in a basket. + +All the while Hassan held him down, listening to the appeals, the +prayers, the curses, with an untouched gravity of face. "It is indeed +you; I have made no mistake," and he freed him from the burning +fetters, and opened the flap of the tent. Bentham rolled over on his +side with his face to the opening, and lay there shaking, moaning. +"Now I will tell you what I have planned for you," continued Hassan. +"I thought at first to kill you, but it is so small a thing. Then I +remembered words you once told me, that you had trouble with your own +people, and could not ask them for protection. So friends of mine from +Beni Hassan, who go upon their way to-night, will take you with them, +and sell you when they are far away. And for the rest of your days you +will carry loads upon your back up and down the inlands of Morocco, +and your masters will beat you, and if you faint and are tired, they +will do strange things to make you suffer, even as I did with the +hobbles. Lo, here my friends come!" + +The sound of steps came to their ears. A few moments later a hand +fumbled at the flap of the tent, opened it, and a head was thrust in. +"Is it you, Hassan Akbar?" + +"Yes," replied Hassan; "and here is the Room whom you promised to take +out of my path. He will fetch a price, and besides I give to you his +mule, which you will find tethered to the tent." + +"And the saddle too, Hassan, is it not so?" + +"It is." + +Meanwhile Hassan cut Bentham's clothes from him as he lay upon the +ground, and taking off his own sack, cast it for a garment over +Bentham's shoulders, and wrapped himself in the dark cloak. In the +place of that cloak he tied over Bentham's mouth a thick rag. Then he +thrust him out of the tent, and jerked him on to his feet. Bentham +made no longer any resistance; he let them do with him as they were +pleased; and he stood tottering and swaying. + +Five Arabs waited outside the tent. "He cannot walk, he shall ride the +mule this night," said the chief of them. "To-morrow he shall learn to +walk." + +They hoisted Bentham on to the back of the mule, and tied him there +with leathern thongs. Then they started on their long journey. + +The cool night air after the stifling tent revived the man who +perforce rode the mule. It did not give him strength to resist, or as +yet even the impulse to cry out; but it restored to him the power to +hear and to understand. What he heard was a distant clock below him in +Tangier striking an hour; what he understood was that the hour it +struck was only one o'clock. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + M. FOURNIER EXPOUNDS THE ADVANTAGES WHICH + EACH SEX HAS OVER THE OTHER + + +The long interview with Wilbraham in the Alameda of Ronda had +consequences for Miranda which she felt but did not trace to their +source. It was not merely that she sickened at the vulgar, futile +story of his ruin; that she saw in imagination the wretched victim he +had run to earth across two continents, closing the door and slipping +the pistol-barrel between his teeth; that she loathed the knowledge +that this man was henceforward her gaoler; but she took him and the +bitter years of her marriage together in her thoughts, and using them +as premisses began doubtfully to draw universal conclusions. + +These conclusions Miranda hazarded at times in the form of questions +to her companion Jane Holt, and sought answers from her as from one +who had great experience of the tortuous conduct of men. Were men +trustworthy at all? If so, were there any means by which a woman could +test their trustworthiness? These two questions were the most constant +upon Miranda's tongue, and Jane Holt answered them with assurance, and +in her own way. + +Wilbraham had not erred when he described her as a sentimentalist with +grievances. Sentimentalism was the shallows of her nature, and she had +no depths. Her conversation ran continually upon the "big things," as +she termed them, such as devotion, endurance, self-sacrifice, and the +rest, in which qualities men were singularly deficient. She meant, +however, only devotion to her, endurance of her, self-sacrifice for +her, of which it was not unnatural that men should tire, seeing who it +was that demanded them. Yet she had enjoyed her share, and more than +her share. For though incapable of passion herself, she had in her +youth possessed the trick of inspiring it, but without the power, +perhaps through her own incapacity, of keeping it alive, and no doubt +too because upon a moderate acquaintance she conveyed an impression of +inherent falsity. For, being a sentimentalist, she lived in a false +world, on the borders of a lie, never quite telling it perhaps, and +certainly never quite not telling it. She was by nature exigent, for +she was in her own eyes the pivot of her little world, and for the +wider world beyond, she had no eyes whatever. And her exigence took +amusing or irritating shapes according to the point of view of those +who suffered it. For instance, you must never praise her costumes, of +which she had many, and those worthy of praise, but the high qualities +of her mind, which were few and often of no taste whatever. It should +be added that she had always favoured an inferior before an equal. For +it pleased her above all things to condescend, since she secured thus +a double flattery, in the knowledge of her own condescension, and in +the grateful humility of those to whom she condescended. + +It can be foreseen, then, what answers this woman,--who was tall, and +still retained the elegance of her figure, and would have still +retained the good looks of her face, but that it was written upon by +many grievances--would give to Miranda's questions. + +"You can trust no men. You must bribe them with cajoleries; you must +play the coquette; you must enlist their vanity. They are all trivial, +and the big things do not appeal to them." + +Miranda listened. She was accustomed to Jane Holt, and had no longer a +reasoned conception of her character. Habit had dulled her +impressions. She remembered only that Jane Holt had had much +experience of men wherein she herself was wofully deficient. Jane Holt +embroidered her theme; a pretty display of petulance, the seemingly +accidental disclosure of an ankle, a voluntary involuntary pressure of +the arm, these things had power to persuade the male mind, such as it +is, and to enmesh that worthless thing the male heart. + +"One might have a man for a friend, perhaps," suggested Miranda, +hopefully. + +"My poor Miranda!" exclaimed Miss Holt. "No wonder your marriage was a +failure. Men pretend friendship for a woman at times, but they mean +something else." + +The moral was always that they were not to be trusted, and Miranda, +vividly recollecting Ralph Warriner and Wilbraham, listened and +wondered, listened and wondered, until she would rise of a sudden and +take refuge in her own parlour, of which the window looked out across +the valley to the hills, where she would sit with a throbbing forehead +pressed upon her palms, certain, certain, that the homily was not +true, and yet half distracted lest it should be true. + +On the morrow of one such conversation, and one such flight, Miss Holt +came into the little parlour--a cool, dark-panelled, low-roofed room +of which the door gave on to the patio--and found Miranda searching +the room. + +"Do you know what month this is?" Miss Holt asked severely. + +"October." + +"Quite so," and great emphasis was laid upon the words. + +"I know," replied Miranda, penitently, as she crossed over to a table +and lifted the books. "We have been here all the summer; it has been +very hot. I am sorry, but I was compelled to stay. I did not know what +might occur, and," she anxiously turned over the letters and papers on +her writing-table in the window, "it was some comfort, I admit, to +feel that one was near--" She stopped suddenly and resumed in +confusion, "I mean I did not know what might happen." + +Jane Holt looked at her with great displeasure, but said nothing +until Miranda began hurriedly to open and shut the drawers of her +writing-table. Then she said irritably: "What in the world are you +looking for?" + +Miranda stood up and looked round the room. "There was a glove," she +said absently. + +"Yes, I threw it away." + +"Threw it away!" Miranda stared at Jane Holt with a look of complete +dismay. "You don't mean that. Oh, you can't mean it!" + +"Indeed I do; it was torn across the palm." + +"I left it lying there, on my writing-desk, yesterday, after you and I +had been talking--" She left the sentence unfinished. + +"Yes, and I found it there. It was torn, so I had it thrown away." + +Miranda rang a hand-bell, and ordered search to be made for the glove. +It could not be found; it had been burnt with the answered letters. + +"Very well," said Miranda, and the servant retired. Miranda sat down, +and showed to Jane Holt a face of which the expression was almost +scared. + +"What does it matter?" exclaimed Jane. "The glove was torn; you could +never have used it." + +"No," answered Miranda, quickly, almost guiltily it seemed. "I should +never have used it; I never meant to use it. The glove was only a +symbol; it was no more than that, it represented a belief. I can +retain the belief, no doubt. No doubt, though, I have lost the +glove--" + +"What in the world are you talking about?" interrupted Jane Holt. + +"Nothing, nothing," answered Miranda, with a start. The loss of the +glove had so dismayed her that she had forgotten who it was she had +been speaking to, or indeed that she was speaking to anyone. She had +merely uttered her thoughts, for she had come to look upon that glove, +which, under no circumstances, would she use, as none the less a +safeguard, and of late, in particular, she had fallen into a habit of +taking it from the drawer in which it rested and setting it before her +eyes; of stating it, as it were, as a refutation of Jane Holt's ready +opinions. + +Jane Holt shook her head. "You have changed very much towards me, +Miranda. You are growing secret. I don't want to know. I would not +press anyone for their confidence; but I may think it strange, I +suppose?" She folded her arms across her breast and tapped with her +fingers upon her elbows. "I suppose I may think it strange; and if +anyone took the trouble to give me a thought, perhaps anyone might +believe that I had a right to feel hurt. But I don't! Please don't run +away with that idea! No, I cannot allow you, Miranda, to fancy for a +moment that I should feel hurt. But I do notice that you jump whenever +there is a knock at the door. There! What did I say?" + +The door of the parlour stood open to the patio; in the corner of the +opposite side of the patio there was the mouth of a passage which led +to the outer door; and upon that outer door just at this moment +someone rapped heavily, as though he came in haste. Miranda started +nervously, and to cover the movement, rose from her chair and closed +the door. + +"And as for the glove," resumed Jane Holt, who found it difficult to +leave any subject alone when it was evident that it was unwelcome, +"you could never have used it." + +"No," answered Miranda, thoughtfully. "Of course--of course, I could +never have used it;" and a servant entered the room and handed to her +a card on which was engraved M. Fournier's name and address. + +Miranda held the card beneath her eyes for some little while. Then she +walked out into the patio, where M. Fournier awaited her. He came +towards her at once, in an extreme agitation, but she signed to him to +be silent, and opening a second door on the same side of the patio as +the door of her parlour, but farther to the right, she led the way +into a tiny garden rich with deep colours. Jonquils, camellias, roses, +wild geraniums, and pinks, tended with a care which bespoke a mistress +from another country, made a gay blaze in the sun, and sweetened the +air with their delicate perfumes. + +The garden was an irregular nook with something or the shape of a +triangle, enclosed between the back wall of the house and a wing flung +out at a right angle. The base of the triangle was an old brick wall, +breast-high, which began at the end of the house wall and curved +outwards until it reached the wing. Over this wall the eye looked +through air to the olive-planted slope of a mountain. For the house +was built on the brink of the precipice, it was in a line with the +Alameda, though divided from it by the great chasm, and if one leaned +over the crumbling wall built long ago by the Moors, one had an +impression that one ought to see the waves churning at the foot of the +rock and to hear a faint moaning of the sea; so that the sight of the +level carpet of the plain continually surprised the eyes. + +Into this garden Miranda brought M. Fournier. No windows overlooked +it, for those which gave light to Miranda's parlour were in the end +and the other side of the wing, and so commanded the valley without +commanding this enclosure. A little flagged causeway opened a path +between the flowers to the nook between the wing of the house and the +old wall, where two lounge chairs invited use. + +Miranda seated herself in one of these chairs and with a gesture +offered the other to M. Fournier. M. Fournier, however, took no heed +of the invitation. He had eyes only for Miranda's face. He held his +hat in one hand, and with a coloured handkerchief continually mopped +his forehead, a dusty perspiring image of anxiety. + +"You come from my husband?" said Miranda. + +M. Fournier's face lightened. "Ah, then, you know--" + +"That he is alive? Yes. You come from him?" + +"From him, no; on his behalf, yes." + +Miranda smiled at the subtle distinction. "You need money, of course," +she said drily. "How much do you want? You have, no doubt, some +authority from my husband." + +The little Belgian's anxiety gave place to offended pride. "We do not +need money, neither he nor I; but as for authority, perhaps this will +serve." + +He drew from his pocket a soiled scrap of paper and handed it to +Miranda. The paper, as she could see from the blue lines, the shape, +and the jagged border, had been torn from a small pocketbook. It was +so crumpled and soiled that a few words scribbled with a pencil on the +outside in Arabic were barely visible. Miranda unfolded the paper +slowly, for the mere look of it was sinister. The words within were +written also in pencil, and her face altered as she read them. + +"What does J. B. mean?" she asked. + +"J. B. are the initials of the name he took." + +"You are sure this comes from my husband? I do not recognise his +hand." + +"Quite sure." + +"Here is bad news," said she, and she conned the words over again, and +could nowhere pick out the familiar characteristics of Ralph +Warriner's handwriting. The words themselves were startling. _Reward +the bearer well, and for God's sake do quickly what you can_. But more +startling, more significant, than the words was the agitation of the +writer's hand. Haste and terror had kept the hand wavering. Here the +pencil had paused, yet even when pausing, its point had trembled on +the paper, as the blurred dots showed. Miranda imagined that so it had +paused and trembled, while someone walked by the writer's back and had +but to glance over his shoulder to discover the business he was +engaged upon. Then again the pencil had raced on, running the words +one into the other, fevered to get the message done. A whole tragedy +was indicated in the formation of the letters. Or a malady? Miranda +turned eagerly to the letter. The writing wavered up and down. The +small letters were clear; the capitals and the long letters, the +"f's," the "q's," the "y's," weak, as though the fingers could not +control the pencil. Illness might account for the message, and Miranda +chose that supposition. + +"He is lying very ill somewhere," she said. + +M. Fournier shook his head. "No. I tried to believe that myself at +first; but I never did believe it, and I thought and thought and +thought--_Tenez_, look!" He drew a piece of blank paper from one +pocket, a pencil from another. The paper he spread upon his knee, the +pencil he took between his teeth; then he held out his wrists. + +"Now fasten them together." + +Miranda uttered a cry. Her face grew very white. "What with?" she +asked. + +"Your belt." + +She unclasped her belt from her waist and strapped Fournier's wrists +together. + +"Tighter," said he, "tighter. Now see!" + +With great difficulty and labour he copied out Warriner's message on +the blank paper; and while he wrote Miranda saw the sentence wavering +up and down, the small letters coming out clear and small, the long +strokes and tails straggling. She seized the copy almost before he had +finished, and held it side by side with the original. There was a +difference, of course, the difference which stamped one man's hand as +Warriner's and the other as Fournier's, the difference of fear, but +that was the only difference. The method in each case was identical; +the same difficulties had produced the same results. + +"There can be no doubt, _hein?_" asked Fournier, as Miranda unfastened +the belt. + +"How did this come to you?" she returned. + +"I tell you," said he, "from the beginning. Bentham--that is what M. +Warriner calls himself now, Bentham--Jeremy Bentham he calls himself, +because he says he's such an economist--well, he and I are partners in +a little business, and we have prospered. So when Bentham came back +from Bemin Sooar to Tangier a week ago, I give a dinner in my house to +a few friends and we dance afterwards. Perhaps ten or eleven of us and +Bentham. Bentham he came and danced and he was the last to go away. He +did not stay in my house--it was better for our little business that +we should not be thought more than mere friends. He had a lodging in +the town, while my house was outside up the hill. He rode away alone +on a mule, for he was in evening dress and one cannot walk across the +Sôk in dancing shoes, and he never reached his lodging. He +disappeared. I heard no word of him, until yesterday; yesterday about +mid-day, an Arab brought that scrap of paper to my shop." + +"But the Arab told you how and where he got it?" said Miranda. + +"Yes. He belonged to a douar, a tent village, you understand. The +village is three days from Tangier on the road to Mequinez. The Arab +was leading down his goats to the water a week ago, in the morning, +when six men passed him at a distance. They were going up into the +country; they had a mule with them. He watched them pass and noticed +that one of them would now and then loiter and fall a little behind, +whereupon the rest beat him with sticks and drove him again in front. +And he did not resist, Madame, I am afraid we know why he did not +resist." + +Miranda pressed her hands to her forehead. + +"Well," she said with an effort, and her voice had sunk to a whisper, +"finish, finish!" + +"It seemed to the Arab," continued Fournier, whose anxiety seemed in +some measure to diminish, and whose face grew hopeful as he watched +Miranda's increasing distress, "that this victim made a sign to him, +and when the party had gone by he noticed something white gleaming on +the brown soil in the line of their march. He went forward and picked +it up. It was this piece of paper. He read the writing on it, these +marks." M. Fournier turned over the sheet, and pointed to the +indecipherable Arabic. "They mean, 'Take this to Fournier at Tangier +and you will get money.' He opened it, he could not read the inside, +but seeing that it was written in one of the languages of the +Nazarenes, he thought there might be some truth in the promise. So he +brought the paper to Tangier yesterday and I have brought it to you." + +M. Fournier settled his glasses upon his nose and leaned forward for +his answer. Miranda sat with knitted brows, gazing out to the dark +mountains. Fournier would not interrupt her; he fancied she was +searching her wits for a device to bring help to Warriner; but, +indeed, she was not thinking at all. + +Miranda had a trick of seeing pictures. She was not given to arguments +and inferences; but a word, a sentence, would strike upon her hearing, +and at once a curtain was rolled up somewhere in her mind, and she saw +men moving to and fro and things happening as upon a lighted stage. +Such pictures made up her arguments, her conclusions, even her +motives; and it was because of their instant vividness that she was so +rapidly moved to sympathy and dislike. So now there was set before her +eyes the picture of a man riding down the hill of Tangier at night in +the civilisation of evening dress, and, as she looked, it melted into +another in which the same man, clad in vile rags, with his hands +bound, was flogged forwards under a burning sun into the barbaric +inlands of Morocco. She saw that brutal party, the five gaolers, the +one captive, straggle past the tent village. She guessed at Ralph's +despairing glance as though it was directed towards herself, she saw +the scrap of paper flutter white upon the dark soil. And as she +contemplated this vision, she heard M. Fournier speaking again to her; +but the sound of his voice had changed. He was no longer telling his +story; he was pleading with a tenderness which had something +grotesquely pathetic, when she considered who it was for whom he +pleaded. His foreign accent became more pronounced, and the voluble +words tumbled one over the other. + +"So M. Warriner does not ask you for money; that sees itself, is it +not? Nor even does he ask you for help. Be sure of that, Madame; read +the note again. He would not come to you for help; he is not so mean; +he has too much pride;" and as Mrs. Warriner smiled, with perhaps a +little bitterness, M. Fournier, noticing her smile, became yet more +astonishing and intricate in his apologies. "He take your money, oh +yes, I know very well, while he is with you; but then you get his +company in exchange. That make you both quits, eh? But once he has +gone away, he would not come back to you for money or help at all. He +has so much pride. Oh no! He just take it from the first person he +meet, me or anyone else. He has so much pride; besides, it would be +simpler. No! It is I who come to you. He often speak to me of you--oh, +but in the highest terms! And I say to myself: That dear Ralph, he is +difficult to live with. He is not a comfortable friend. We know that, +Mrs. Warriner and I, but we both love him very much--" + +"No!" + +The emphatic interruption fairly startled M. Fournier. Miranda had +risen from her seat and stood over him. He would not have believed +that so gentle a face could have taken on so vigorous an expression. +He stammered a protest. Miranda repeated her denial: "No, no, no!" she +cried. "Let us be frank!" + +She turned aside from him, and leaning her elbows upon the crumbling +parapet of the wall, looked across the valley and down the cliff's +side where one road was cut in steep zigzags, and winding down to the +plain as to the water's edge, helped to complete the illusion that the +sea should fitly be breaking at the base. + +M. Fournier's hopes dwindled in the face of this uncompromising +denial. He had come to enlist her help; he had counted upon her +affections, and had boldly counted, because Warriner had so surely +attracted his own. M. Fournier would have been at a loss to explain +his friendship for Warriner, to account for the causes or the +qualities which evoked it, but he felt its strength, and he now knew +that Mrs. Warriner had no lot or share in it. + +He was therefore the more surprised when she turned back to him with +eyes which were shining and moist, and said very gently: "But of +course I will help." Her conduct was not at all inconsistent, however +much it might appear so to M. Fournier. She was acting upon the same +motive which had induced her, the moment she was aware of Ralph +Warriner's existence, to return to Ronda, the one spot where Warriner +would be sure to look for her if he needed her, and which had +subsequently persuaded her to submit to the blackmail of Major +Wilbraham. "Of course I will help. What can I do?" + +M. Fournier's eyes narrowed, his manner became wary and cunning. "I +hoped that you might perhaps hit upon some plan," he suggested. + +"I?" Miranda thought for a moment, then she said: "We must appeal to +the English Minister at Tangier." + +M. Fournier sprang out of his chair. "No, that is the very last thing +we must do. For what should we say? That Mr. Ralph Warriner, who was +thought to be dead, has just been kidnapped in Morocco?" + +"No, but that Mr. Bentham has," she returned quickly. + +M. Fournier shrugged his shoulders. "Why am I here?" he exclaimed, +stamping his foot. "I ask you, why am I here? _Saperlipopette!_ Would +I have come to you if any so simple remedy had been possible? Suppose +we go politely to the English Minister and ask him to find Mr. Jeremy +Bentham! The Minister goes to the Sultan of Morocco, and after many +months, perhaps Mr. Bentham is found, perhaps he is not. Suppose that +he is found and brought down to Tangier,--what next, I beg you? There +will be talk about Mr. Bentham, there will be gentlemen everywhere, +behind bushes, under tables, everywhere, so that the great British +public may know the colours of the ties he wears, and at last be +happy. His name will be in the papers, and more, Mrs. Warriner, his +portrait too. His portrait; have you thought of that?" + +"But he might escape the photographers." + +"Suppose he do, by a miracle. Do you think there will be no inquiry as +to what is Mr. Bentham's business in Morocco? Do you think the English +Minister will not ask the inconvenient question? Do you think that you +can hide his business, once an inquiry is set on foot, in that +country? He might pass as a tourist, you think perhaps, _hein?_ And +any one man has only got to give a few dollars to some officer in the +custom-house, and he will know that Mr. Bentham is smuggling guns into +Morocco, and selling them to the Berbers of Bemin Sooar. What then? He +would be taken for trial to Gibraltar, where only two years ago he was +Captain Warriner." + +Miranda had already heard enough from Wilbraham to confirm M. +Fournier's statement about the custom-house. + +"No," continued Fournier, "the risk is too great. And I call it risk!" +He hunched his shoulders and spread out his hand. "It is a red-hot +cert, as he would say. His identity would be established, and he had +better, after all, be a captive in Morocco than a convict in England. +There is some chance of an escape in Morocco." + +"There is also in Morocco some chance of a--" Miranda's lips refused +to speak the word. M. Fournier supplied it. + +"Murder? I do not fear that. Had they intended murder, they would have +killed that night, then and there, in the Sôk of Tangier. There would +have been no letter dropped three days inland." + +Miranda eagerly welcomed the argument. "Yes, yes," she exclaimed, and +the colour came back to her lips. "He is held for ransom then, +surely?" + +M. Fournier shook his head. "Hardly. Had they captured him for ransom, +they would have got from him the names of his friends. They would have +used measures," said he, with some emphasis upon the word, at which +Miranda shivered; "sure measures to get the names, and Warriner would +have given mine. They would have come to me for the ransom, and I +should have given it--if it was everything I had--and Warriner would +be safe by now." + +Fournier was aware that Miranda looked curiously and even with a sort +of compunction towards him, though he did not understand the reason of +her look. To him it was the most natural, simple thing in the world +that he should care for Warriner. + +"No, it is not ransom," and he threw a cautious glance this way and +that, and then, even in that secret spot, continued in a whisper: +"Warriner has enemies, enemies of his own race. I do not wonder at +it," he explained impartially. "He treats me, yes, even me, who am his +one friend, as though--well, his own phrase is the best. He wipes the +floor with me. He has promised to do it many times, and many times he +has done it too. No doubt he has enemies, and they have arranged his +capture." + +"Why?" + +"Suppose they sell him for a slave, a long way off and a long way +inland. It would not be pleasant at all, and most of all unpleasant to +him, for he is particular. Of course you know that, Mrs. Warriner. He +likes his linen very clean and fine. He would not enjoy being a slave, +yet he could not appeal to his Government, even if he got the chance." + +"Oh, don't, please!" cried Miranda. That intimate detail about Ralph's +habits brought home to her most convincingly his present plight. "But +what enemies?" she asked in a moment or two. "Is it a guess of yours, +or do you know of any?" + +M. Fournier hitched his chair nearer. His voice became yet more +confidential. + +"Three months ago an Englishman came to my shop." + +"Three months ago?" interrupted Miranda. "He leaned over your counter +and he said, 'How did you work that little affair on Rosevear, and +how's my dear friend, Ralph Warriner?'" + +"Ah, you know him!" cried Fournier, springing up in excitement. + +"Yes, and he has nothing to do with Ralph's capture," replied Miranda. +"He only went that one time to Tangier." M. Fournier resumed his seat, +and she briefly explained to the Belgian the reason and the +consequence of Wilbraham's visit. Fournier's face fell as he listened. +He had hoped that the necessary clue had been discovered, and when +Miranda finished he sat silent in a glum despair. After a little his +face lightened. + +"Only once you say he came to Tangier, this man you speak of--only +once?" he asked eagerly, stretching out his hand. + +"Only the once." + +"He was not there earlier in the year? He was not there in May? Think +carefully. Be very sure!" + +Mrs. Warriner reflected for a second. "I am sure he was not," she +replied. "He travelled by train from Monte Carlo to Marseilles in May. +From Marseilles he came directly by boat to England." + +"Good," said M. Fournier. He sat forward in his chair and rubbed the +palms of his hands together. "Now listen! There was another Englishman +who came in May. He came to my shop, though the shutter was on the +window and the shop closed." + +"Who was he?" asked Mrs. Warriner. + +"I cannot guess." + +"Tell me what he was like." + +"Ah! there's the trouble. Neither of us saw him. Warriner heard his +voice, that is all. And a voice? There is no clue more deceptive. The +one thing Warriner is sure of is that he had never heard the voice +before." + +"But what was it that he heard?" + +"I tell you. Warriner came down to Tangier that very morning from the +country. He travelled as always in the dress of a Moor, for he speaks +their tongues, no Moor better, and our little business, you +understand, needs secrecy. I closed my shop, shuttered the window, +locked the door. Warriner told me he had arranged with the sheikhs of +the Berber tribes to deliver so many Winchesters, so much ammunition, +within a certain period. The period was short; Warriner's boat, the +_Ten Brothers_, was waiting at Tarifa. I leave him to change his dress +and shave his beard, while I go down to the harbour and hire a felucca +to put him over to Tarifa. But Warriner forgot to lock the door behind +me. In a minute or two he hear a hand scrape softly, oh so softly, up +the door towards the latch. For a second he stood, with the razor in +his hand like this," and the Belgian, in the absorption of his +narrative began to act the scene, "looking at the latch, waiting for +it to rise, and listening. Then he remembered that he had not locked +the door. He crept on tip-toe towards it; just as he reached it he +heard a loud English voice shout to him violently, 'Look out!' That +phrase is a menace, eh?" he stopped to ask. + +"It might be. It would more naturally be a warning," said Mrs. +Warriner. + +"In either case it means an enemy. As he shouted Warriner's hand was +already on the key. Warriner turn the lock, and immediately the +Englishman batter and knock at the door, but he could not get in, and +after a little he went away. Ah! how often we have wondered who that +man was, and why he shouted out his threat and tried to force the +door. To know that you have one enemy at your heels, but you cannot +pick him out because you have not seen his face! That frightens me, +Madame Warriner. I am a coward, and it is no wonder that it frightens +me." The perspiration broke out on Fournier's forehead as he made his +frank confession. "But it frightens Warriner too, who is no coward. +Often and often have I seen him lift up a finger, so," he suited the +action to the word, "when a new voice speak within his hearing, and +listen, listen, listen, to make sure whether that was the voice which +shouted through the door or no. But a voice! You cannot be certain you +recognise it, unless you can recognise also the face of the man to +whom it belongs. A singer's voice, yes! Perhaps you might know that +again though you heard it for the first time blindfold. But a voice +that merely speaks or shouts, no!" + +M. Fournier picked up his hat and rose from his chair. Miranda rose +too, and they stood face to face with one another under the awning. + +"So I ask you this. Will you help to recover your husband?" he asked, +with a simplicity of appeal which went home to Miranda all the more, +because it did not presume to claim her help. "Either a search must be +made privately through Morocco until he is found and bought, and such +a search seems hopeless; or the unknown man who shouted through the +door must be discovered. That is the simplest way. For this I do +believe"--and he expressed his belief with a great solemnity and +conviction which sank very memorably into Miranda's mind--"I believe +that if we lay our hands upon that man we shall lay our hands also +upon the means to rescue Warriner from his servitude." + +"But how can I help? I do not know the man who shouted through the +door." The words were flung at Fournier in a passion of impotence. +"You say you need no money. I cannot scour Morocco. How can a woman +help?" + +M. Fournier hesitated. He took off his glasses. He found it easier to +speak the matter of his thoughts when he saw her face dimly, and could +not take note of its expressions. + +"A woman very often has friends," he hinted. + +He saw her face grow rosy and then pale. + +"Yes, but I have lost the glove," she cried impulsively, and as she +turned towards the perplexed M. Fournier, the blood rushed back into +her cheeks. "I mean," she stammered, and broke off suddenly into a +question which was at once an accusation and a challenge. + +"And men, have they no friends?" + +Fournier did not affect to misunderstand her. + +"Here and there, perhaps a man has one friend who will deliberately +risk much, even life, for him, but in those cases he has only one such +friend. Warriner has one, but alas! that one friend is myself. +Already, it is true, I have risked my life for him at the Scillies, +and I would gladly lose it for him now, if I could only lose it +without foreknowledge. But what can I do? A little fat Belgian +bourgeois, of middle age, who speaks no language correctly but his +own, and has only a few poor words of Arabic, a man of no strength, +and, Madame, a coward,--what could I do inland in Morocco?" He made no +parade of humility as he described himself; he used the simple, +straightforward tone of one who advances cogent arguments. Miranda was +moved by an impulse to hold out her hand to him. + +"I beg your pardon," she said. + +M. Fournier was encouraged to continue his plea. + +"But to possess sufficient friends so that one may choose the adequate +instrument,--ah, that is the privilege of women!" He added timidly, +"Of women who have youth and beauty," but in a voice so low that the +words hardly reached Miranda's ears, and their significance was not +understood by her at all. + +"I have not many friends," she returned frankly, "but I have one who +would be adequate. I cannot tell whether I can bring myself to--I mean +I cannot tell whether he could go; he has duties. It is asking much to +ask any man to set out into Morocco on such an errand. However, I must +think of it; I could at all events send for him and tell him of my +husband--" + +M. Fournier interposed quickly: "He knows nothing of Ralph Warriner?" + +"He believes my husband dead." + +"Then why should he not continue to believe your husband dead?" asked +Fournier, with a sly cunning. "It is Mr. Jeremy Bentham he goes out to +find,--a friend of yours--a relation perhaps--is it not so? We can +keep Ralph Warriner dead for a while longer." + +The little man's intention was becoming obvious. + +"Why?" asked Miranda, sharply. + +"It would be more prudent." + +"I don't understand." + +Her voice was cold and dangerous. + +"A man has one friend, a woman many," explained M. Fournier; "but +there are compensations for the man in that his friend will serve him +for friendship's sake. But a man will not serve a woman for +friendship's sake. Not if he serve her well." + +M. Fournier was prepared for an outburst of indignation; he was not +prepared for the expression which came over Miranda's face, and he +could not understand it. She looked at him fixedly and, as it seemed, +in consternation. "That is not true," she said; "it is not true. +Surely, surely it cannot be true." + +M. Fournier made no answer. She turned away from him and walked along +the flagged pathway, turned at the end and came slowly back. "A man +will only serve a woman if he cares for her?" + +M. Fournier bowed. + +"And men can be made to care?" + +M. Fournier smiled. + +"But it needs time?" + +M. Fournier shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. + +"And it needs tricks?" + +M. Fournier made a pun. + +"Nature, Madame, has put the tricks in your hand." + +Miranda nodded her head once or twice, and made a remark which M. +Fournier was at a loss to apply. "The old question," said she, "and +the old answer;" and at once an irrational anger flamed up within her, +anger with M. Fournier for posing the question again, anger with +herself for her perplexity, anger even against Charnock, because he +did not magically appear in the garden and answer the question and +dissolve her perplexity. But M. Fournier alone was in the garden with +her, and the full force of her anger broke upon him. "I am to throw +out my net," she cried, "and catch my friend! I am to trick him, to +lie to him, and to earn with the lie the use of his life and his +brains and his time and his manhood. How dare you come to me with such +a thought? A coward's thought indeed!" + +"The thought of a man who loves his friend," said M. Fournier, +stubbornly; and he continued without any sarcasm: "Your sentiments, +Madame Warriner, are most correct; they do you honour, but I love my +friend." + +To his surprise Miranda suddenly smiled at him, and then laughed. "I +was never treated with such absolute disregard in all my life," she +said. "No, don't apologise, I like you for it." + +"Then you will do as I propose?" he exclaimed. + +Miranda grew serious. "I cannot. If I ask my friend to go upon this +errand, he must know before he goes who it is I ask him to bring back. +I must think what can be done. You will go back to Tangier; perhaps +you may find Ralph there when you return. I will write to you at +Tangier." + +M. Fournier had plainly no opinion of her plan; but he saw that he +could not dissuade her. He took the hand which she held out to him, +and returned sorrowfully through the patio to the street. + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + IN WHICH MIRANDA ADOPTS A NEW LINE OF CONDUCT AND THE MAJOR + EXPRESSES SOME DISCONTENT + + +Miranda was left with two convictions, of which she was very certain. +Somehow, somewhither, help must be sent to Ralph; and if Charnock +carried the help, he must know why and for whom before he went. + +She stood in the patio until the outer door closed behind M. Fournier. +A local newspaper lying upon a wicker chair caught her eye, and +harassed and unresolved as she was, she turned eagerly for rest to its +commonplaces. She read an anecdote about an unknown politician, and a +summary of Don Carlos's prospects, with extreme care and +concentration; for she knew that her perplexities lay in wait for her +behind the screen of the news sheet, and she was very tired. + +She turned over the sheet, and in spite of herself, began to feel at a +third idea. She applied herself consequently to the first paragraph +which met her eye, and read it over with great speed, perhaps ten +times. But the words she read were not the printed words. They were +these:-- + +"Send me the glove, and when I come up to Ronda, it will be understood +without a word why I have come. There will be no need for me to speak +at all, and you will only have to tell me the particular thing that +wants doing." + +And the idea became distinct. She could choose her own time for +telling Charnock the particular thing which wanted doing. He would ask +no questions; he had indeed hit upon that device of the glove to spare +her; she could send the glove, and she could tell him after he had +come in answer, but at her own discretion, why she had sent it. +Therefore she had time--she had time. + +She turned to her paragraph again, read it with comprehension, and +from the paragraph her trouble sprang at her and caught her by the +heart. For what she read was the account of the opening of the branch +line to Algeciras. Charnock's work was done, then; he would be leaving +Algeciras. Even at that moment her first feeling was one of +approaching loneliness, so closely had the man crept into her +thoughts. She took a step towards her parlour, stopped, stood for a +moment irresolute, ran up the winding iron staircase to the landing +half-way up the patio, and fetched a new long white kid glove from her +dressing-room. She moulded it upon her hand, soiled it by a ten +minutes' wearing, ripped it across the palm, and sealed it up in an +envelope. + +Jane Holt came into the patio while Miranda was still writing the +address. + +"What's that?" she asked. + +"A sham, Jane, a sham," said Miranda, in a queer, unsteady voice; "a +trick, the first of them." + +Jane Holt shook her head. "You are very strange, Miranda," but +Miranda picked up the envelope, and putting on her hat hurried to the +post-office. As she crossed the bridge over the Tajo a man barred her +way. She tried to pass him; he moved again in front of her, and she +saw that the man was Wilbraham. + +"I wish to speak to you." + +"In ten minutes," said she, "in the Alameda. I have a letter to post." + +"The letter can wait," said he. + +"If it did, it would never be posted," said she, and she hurried past +him. + +The Major followed her with inquisitive eyes; he felt a certain +admiration for her buoyant walk, her tall slight figure, which a white +muslin dress with a touch of colour at the waist so well set off, and +for the pose of her head under the wide straw hat. But business +instincts prevailed over his admiration. He lit a cigarette. + +"What is the large sealed letter which must be posted at once, or it +will never be posted at all?" he asked himself. "Why must it be posted +at once?" + +He strolled to the Alameda unable to find an answer. In the Alameda, +at the bench before the railings, Miranda was waiting for him. She +rose at once to meet him. + +"Why have you come?" she asked. "It is not quarter-day. We made our +bargain. I have kept my part of it." + +"Yes," said he. "But it was not a good bargain for me. I underrated my +necessities. I overrated my taste for a quiet life." + +"And the Horace?" she asked scornfully. "One of the few things worth +doing, was it not?" + +Wilbraham flushed angrily. + +"So it is," he said. "But I find it difficult to settle down. I need, +in fact,--do we not all need them?--intervals of relaxation." He spoke +uneasily; he looked even more worn and tired than when he first came +to Ronda. Miranda understood that here indeed was the real tragedy of +the man's life. + +"All these years, fifteen years," she said, "you have dreamed of doing +sooner or later this one thing. You have played with the dream. You +have kept your self-respect by means of it. It has set you apart from +your companions. And now, when the opportunity comes, you find that +you were only after all on the level of your companions, lower, +perhaps a trifle lower, by this trifle of delusion. For you cannot do +the work." + +Wilbraham did not resent the speech, which was uttered without +reproach or accusation, but in the tone of one who notes a fact which +should have been foreseen. + +"A topping fellow Horace, of course," Wilbraham began. + +"And I trusted you to do it," she said suddenly, and looked at him for +a moment full in the face, not angrily, but with a queer sort of +interest in the mistake she had made. Then she turned from him and +walked away. + +The Major followed quickly, but before he could come up with her she +turned round on him. + +"Follow me for one other step," she said, "and I call that guardia +twenty yards away." + +She meant to do it, too; this was unmistakable. She resumed her walk, +and the Major thought it prudent to remain where he was. He remained +in fact for some time on that spot, whistling softly to himself. +Wilbraham's menaces had sunk to a complete insignificance in Miranda's +mind, since she had been confronted with the actual positive disaster +which had befallen Ralph Warriner. Wilbraham, however, was not in a +position to trace Miranda's sudden audacity to its true source. He +fell therefore, and not unnaturally, into the error of imagining that +she drew her courage to refuse his demands from some new and external +support. His thoughts went back to the letter which must be posted at +once. Had that letter anything to do with that support? Had it +anything to do with her refusal? + +Wilbraham asked himself these questions with considerable uneasiness, +for after all the seven hundred per annum was not so absolutely +assured. He came to the conclusion that it would be wise to transfer +his quarters from Tarifa to Ronda. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + THE HERO, LIKE ALL HEROES, FINDS HIMSELF IN A FOG + + +At eight o'clock the next morning Charnock was crushing the remainder +of his clothes into a portmanteau. A couple of corded trunks stood +ready for the porters, while the manager of the line sat in the window +overlooking Algeciras Bay, and gave him gratuitous advice as to +totally different and very superior methods of packing. + +The manager suddenly rose to his feet. + +"Here's the P. and O. coming into the bay," he said. "Man, but you +have very little time. I'm thinking you'll miss it." + +Charnock raised a flushed face from his portmanteau, and so wasted a +few seconds. He made no effort to catch them up. + +"I'm thinking, too, you would not be very sorry to miss it," continued +the manager, sagely. "Though what charms you can discover in +Algeciras, it's beyond my powers to comprehend." + +Charnock did not controvert or explain the manager's supposition. He +continued to pack, but perhaps a trifle more slowly than before. + +"You have got my address, Macdonald?" he said. "You won't lose it, +will you?" + +He shut up the portmanteau and knelt upon it. + +"You will forward everything that comes--everything without fail?" he +insisted. + +"In all human probability," returned Macdonald, "I will forward +nothing at all. For I am thinking you will lose the boat." + +There was a knock on the door; Charnock's servant brought in a letter. +The letter lay upon its face, and the sealed back of the envelope had +an official look. + +"Open it, will you, Macdonald?" said Charnock, as he fastened the +straps. "Well, what's it about?" + +"I cannot tell. It's written in a dialect I do not understand," said +the manager, gravely, and Charnock, turning about, saw that he dangled +and deliberated upon a long white kid glove. + +Charnock jumped up and snatched it away. + +"It's a female's," said the manager, sagely. + +"It's a woman's," returned Charnock, with indignation. + +"You are very young," observed Macdonald. "And I'll point out to you +that you have torn your letter." + +Charnock was turning the glove over, and showed the palm at that +moment. He smiled, but made no answer. He folded the glove, wrapped it +in its envelope, took it out again, and smoothed its creases. Then he +folded it once more, held it for a little balanced on his hand, and +finally replaced it in the envelope and hid the envelope in his +pocket. + +"Man, but you are _very_ young," remarked Macdonald, "and I'm thinking +that you'll lose--" + +"There's a train to Ronda pretty soon?" interrupted Charnock. + +"There is," replied Macdonald, drily, "and I'll be particular to mind +your address, and forward everything that comes. Eh, but you have paid +your passage on the P. and O." + +Charnock, in spite of that argument, took his seat in the train for +Ronda, and travelled up through the forest of cork trees whose foliage +split the sunshine, making here a shade, there an alley of light. The +foresters were at work stripping the trunks of their bark, and +Charnock was in a mood to make parables of the world, so long as they +fitted in with and exemplified his own particular purposes and plans. +He himself was a forester, and the rough bark he was stripping was +Miranda's distress, so it is to be supposed that the bare tree-trunk +was Miranda herself; and, to be sure, what simile could be more +elegant? + +Charnock's dominant feeling, indeed, was one of elation. The message +of his mirror was being fulfilled. He had the glove in his pocket to +assure him of that, and the feel of the glove, of its delicate kid +between his strong fingers, pleased him beyond measure. For it seemed +appropriate and expressive of her, and he hoped that the strength of +his fingers was expressive of himself. But beyond that, it was a call, +a challenge to his chivalry, which up till now, through all his years, +had never once been called upon and challenged; and therein lay the +true cause of his elation. + +The train swept out of the cork forest, and the great grass slopes +stretched upwards at the side of the track, dotted with white +villages, seamed with rocks. Charnock fell to marvelling at the apt +moment of the summons. Just when his work was done, when his mind and +his body were free, the glove had come to him. If it had come by a +later post on that same day, he would have been on his way to England. +But it had not; it had come confederate with the hour of its coming. + +The train passed into the gorge of tunnels, climbing towards Ronda. He +was not forgetful that he was summoned to help Miranda out of a danger +perhaps, certainly out of a great misfortune. But he had never had a +doubt that the misfortune from some quarter, and at some time, would +fall. She had allowed him on the balcony in St. James's Park to +understand that she herself expected it. He knew, too, that it must be +some quite unusual misfortune. For had she not herself said, with a +complete comprehension of what she said, "If I have troubles I must +fight them through myself"? He had been prepared then for the +troubles, and he was rejoiced that after all they were of a kind +wherein his service could be of use. + +At the head of the gorge he caught his first view of Ronda, balanced +aloft upon its dark pinnacle of rock. It was mid-day, and the sun +tinged with gold the white Spanish houses and the old brown mansions +of the Moors; and over all was a blue arch of sky, brilliant and +cloudless. At that distance and in that clear light, Ronda seemed one +piece of ivory, exquisitely carved and tinted, and then exquisitely +mounted on a black pedestal. Charnock was not troubled with any of +Lady Donnisthorpe's perplexities as to why Miranda persisted in making +that town her home. To him it seemed the only place where she could +live, since it alone could fitly enshrine her. + +The train wound up the incline at the back of the town and steamed +into the station. Charnock drove thence to the hotel in the square +near the bull-ring, lunched, and asked his way to Mrs. Warriner's +house. He stood for a while looking at the blank yellow wall which +gave on to the street, and the heavy door of walnut wood. + +For the first time he began to ponder what was the nature of the peril +in which Miranda stood. His speculations were of no particular value, +but the fact that he speculated at this spot, opposite the house, +opposite the door, was. For, quite unconsciously, his eyes took an +impression of the geometrical arrangement of the copper nails with +which it was encrusted, or rather sought to take such an impression. +For the geometrical figures were so intricate in their involutions +that the eyes were continually baffled and continually provoked. +Charnock was thus absently searching for the key to their +inter-twistings when he walked across the road and knocked. He was +conducted through the patio. He was shown into the small dark-panelled +parlour which overlooked the valley. The door was closed upon him; the +room was empty. A book lay open upon the table before the window. +Charnock stood in front of this table looking out of the window across +to the sierras; so that the book was just beneath his nose. He had but +to drop his eyes and he would have read the title, and known the +subject-matter, of the book, and perhaps taken note or some pencil +lines scored in the margin against a passage here and there, for the +book had been much in Miranda's hands these last few days. But he did +not, for he heard a light step cross the patio outside and pause on +the threshold of the door. + +Charnock turned expectantly away from the table. The door, however, +did not open, nor on the other hand were the footsteps heard to +retreat. A woman then was standing, quite silent and quite motionless, +on the other side of that shut door; and that woman, no doubt, was +Miranda. Charnock was puzzled; he, too, stood silent and motionless, +looking towards the door and wondering why she paused there and in +what attitude she stood. For the seconds passed, and there must have +been a lapse of quite two minutes between the moment when the +footsteps ceased and the moment when the door was flung open. + +For the door was flung open, noisily, violently, and with a great +bustle of petticoats an unknown woman danced into the room humming a +tune. She stopped with all the signs of amazement when she saw +Charnock. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "why didn't they tell me?" She cast +backwards over her shoulder that glance of the startled fawn which +befits a solitary maid in the presence of a devouring man. Then she +advanced timidly, lowered her eyes, and said: "So you have come to +Ronda, then?" + +This unknown woman had paused outside the door, yet she had swung into +the room as though in a great hurry, and had been much surprised to +see her visitor. Charnock was perplexed. Moreover, the unknown woman +wore the semblance of Miranda. She was dressed in a white frock very +elaborate with lace, he noticed; there was a shimmer of satin at her +throat and waist, and to him who had not seen her for these months +past, and who had thought of her as of one draped in black,--since +thus only he had seen her,--she gleamed against the dark panels of the +room, silvered and wonderful. + +"So you have come to Ronda?" said she. + +"Of course." + +She held out her hand with a gingerly manner of timidity, and pressed +his fingers when they touched hers, as though she could not help +herself, and then hastily drew her hand away, as if she was ashamed +and alarmed at her forwardness. Charnock could not but remember a +frank, honest hand-clasp, with which she had bidden him goodbye in +London. + +"Is this your first visit to Ronda?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +"Sure?" She looked at him with her eyebrows raised and an arch glance +of provocation. "Sure you have not come up once or twice just to see +in what corner of the world I lived?" + +"No; I have been busy." + +Miranda shrugged her shoulders. + +"I had no right to expect you would." She pushed out a foot in a +polished shoe beyond the hem of her dress, contemplated it with great +interest, and suddenly withdrew it with much circumstance of modesty. +Then with an involuntary gesture of repugnance which Charnock did not +understand, she went over to the window and stood looking out from it. +From that position too she spoke. + +"You promised that night, if you have not forgotten, at Lady +Donnisthorpe's, on the balcony, to tell me about yourself, about those +years you spent in Westminster." And Charnock broke in upon her speech +in a voice of relief. + +"I understand," said he. + +"What?" + +"You," he replied simply. + +"Oh, I hope not," she returned; "for when a woman becomes intelligible +to a man, he loses all--liking for her," and she spoke the word +"liking" with extreme shyness as though there were a bolder word with +which he might replace it if he chose. "Is not that the creed?" + +"A false creed," said he, and her eyes fell upon the open book. She +uttered a startled exclamation, threw a quick glance at Charnock, +closed the book and covered it with a newspaper. + +"Let us go into the garden," said she; "and you shall talk to me of +those years in which I am most interested." + +"That I can understand," said he, and she glanced at him sharply, +suspiciously, but there was no sarcasm in his accent. He had hit upon +an explanation of the change in her. She stood in peril, she needed +help, and very likely help of a kind which implied resource, which +involved danger. She knew nothing of him, nothing of his capacity. It +was no more than natural that he should require to know and that she +should sound his years for the knowledge, before she laid him under +the obligation of doing her a service. + +He sat down on the chair in which M. Fournier had sat only yesterday. + +"It will sound very unfamiliar to you," he said with a laugh. "My +father was vicar of a moorland parish on the hills above Brighouse in +Yorkshire. There I lived until I was twelve, until my father died. He +had nothing but the living, which was poor--the village schoolmaster, +what with capitation grants, was a good deal better off--so that when +he died, he died penniless. I was adopted by a maiden aunt who took me +to her home, a little villa in the south suburbs of London of which +the shutters had never been taken down from the front windows since +she had come to live there three years before." + +"Why?" asked Miranda, in surprise. + +"She was eccentric," explained Charnock, with a smile, and he resumed. +"Nor had the front door ever been opened. My aunt was afraid that +visitors might call, and, as she truly said, the house was not yet in +order. The furniture, partly unpacked, with wisps of straw about the +legs of the chairs, was piled up in the uncarpeted rooms. For there +was only a carpet down in one room, the room in which we lived, and +since the room was in the front and the shutters were up, we lived in +a perpetual twilight." + +"But did the servants do nothing?" exclaimed Miranda. + +"There were no servants," returned Charnock. "My aunt said that they +hampered her independence. Consequently of course we made our meals of +tinned meat and bottled stout, which we ate standing up by the kitchen +table in the garden if it was fine. But wet or fine the kitchen table +always stood in the garden." + +Here Miranda began to laugh and Charnock joined with her. + +"It was a quaint sort of life," said he, "but rather ghostly to a boy +of twelve." + +"But you went to school?" + +"No, my schooldays were over. I just lived in the twilight of that +house, and through the chinks of the shutters watched people passing +in the street, and lay awake at night listening to the creak of the +bare boards. The house was in a terrace, and since we went to bed as +soon as it grew dark to save the gas, I could hear through the wall +the sounds of people laughing and talking, sometimes too the voices of +boys of my own age playing while I lay in bed. I used to like the +noise at times; it was companionable and told me fairy stories of +blazing firesides. At times, however, I hated it beyond words, and +hated the boys who laughed and shouted while I lay in the dark amongst +the ghostly piles of furniture." + +Miranda was now quite serious, and Charnock, as he watched her, +recognised in the woman who was listening, the woman he had talked +with on the balcony over St. James's Park, and not the woman he had +talked with five minutes since. + +"Only to think of it," she exclaimed. "I was living then amongst the +Suffolk meadows, and the great whispering elms of the Park, and I +never knew." She spoke almost in a tone of self-reproach as she +clasped her hands together on her knees. "I never knew!" + +"Oh, but we had our dissipations," returned Charnock. "We dug potatoes +in the garden, and sometimes we paid a visit to Marshall and +Snelgrove." + +"Marshall and Snelgrove!" + +"Yes, those were gala days. My aunt would buy the best ready-made +bodice in the shop, which she carried away with her. From Marshall and +Snelgrove's we used to go to Verrey's restaurant, where we dined +amongst mirrors and much gilding, and about nine o'clock we would +travel back to our suburb, creep into the dark house by the back door, +and go to bed without a light. Imagine that if you can, Mrs. Warriner. +The clatter, the noise, the flowers, the lights, of the restaurant, +men and women in evening dress, and just about the time when they were +driving up to their theatres, these people, in whose company we had +dined, we were creeping into the dark, close-shuttered villa of the +bare boards, and groping our way through the passage without a light. +I used to imagine that every room had a man hiding behind the door, +and all night long I heard men in my room breathing stealthily. It was +after one such night that I ran away." + +"You ran away?" + +"Yes, and hid myself in London. I picked up a living one way and +another. It doesn't cost much to live when you are put to it. I sold +newspapers. I ran errands--" + +"You didn't carry a sandwich-board?" exclaimed Miranda, eagerly. "Say +you didn't do that!" + +"I didn't," replied Charnock, with some surprise at her eagerness. +"They wouldn't have given a nipper like me a sandwich-board," and +Miranda drew an unaccountable breath of relief. "Finally I became an +office boy, and I was allowed by my employer to sleep in an empty +house in one of the small streets at the back of Westminster Abbey. +There weren't any carpets either in that house, but I was independent, +you see, and I saved my lodging. I wasn't unhappy during those three +years. I understood that very well, when I heard the big clock strike +twelve again on Lady Donnisthorpe's balcony. It was the first time I +had heard it since I lived in the empty house, and heard it every +night, and the sound of it was very pleasant and friendly." + +"Then you left London," said Miranda. + +"After three years. I was a clerk then; I was seventeen, and I had +ambitions which clerking didn't satisfy. I always had a hankering +after machinery, and I used to teach myself drawing. The lessons, +however, did not turn out very successful, when I put them to the +test." + +"What did you do?" asked Miranda. + +"I went up North to Leeds. There's a firm of railway contractors and +manufacturers of locomotives. Sir John Martin is the head partner, and +I had seen him once or twice at my father's house, for he took and +takes a great interest in the Yorkshire clergy." + +"I see. You went to him and told him who you were," said Miranda, +who inclined towards Charnock more and more from the interest which +she took in a youth so entirely strange, and apart from her own +up-bringing, just as he on his part had been from the first attracted +to her by the secure traditional life of which she was the flower, of +which he traced associations in her simplicity, and up to this day, at +all events, her lack of affectations. + +"No," replied Charnock, "it would have been wiser if I had done that; +but I didn't. I changed my name, and applied for a vacancy as +draughtsman. I obtained it, and held the post for three weeks. Why +they suffered me for three weeks is still a mystery, for of course I +couldn't draw at all. At the end of three weeks I was discharged. I +asked to be taken on as anything at thirteen shillings a week. I saw +Sir John Martin himself. He said I couldn't live on thirteen +shillings; I said I could, and he asked me how." Charnock began to +laugh at his own story. "I told him how," he said. "I lived +practically for nothing." + +"How?" said Miranda. "Quick, tell me!" Charnock laughed again. "I had +been three weeks at the works, you see, where hands were continually +changing. I lived in a sort of mechanics' boarding-house, and I lived +practically for nothing, on condition that I kept the house full, +which I was able to do, for I got on very well with the men at the +works. Sir John laughed when I told him, and took me into the office. +So there I was a clerk again, which I didn't want to be; however, I +was not a clerk for long. One Sunday Sir John Martin came down to the +boarding-house and asked for me. It was dinner time, and he was shown +straight into the dining-room, where I was sitting, if you please, at +the head of the table, in my shirtsleeves, carving for all I was +worth. He leaned against the door and shook with laughter. 'You are +certain to get on,' he said; 'but I would like a few minutes with you +alone.' I put on my coat, and went out with him into the street. 'Is +your name Charnock?' he asked, and I answered that it was. 'I thought +I knew your face,' said he, 'and that's why I took you into my office, +though I couldn't put a name to you. So if you are proud enough to +think that I took you on your own merits, you are wrong. You might as +well have told me your real name, and saved yourself some time. Look +at that!' and he gave me a newspaper, and pointed out an +advertisement. A firm of solicitors in London was advertising for me, +and the firm, I happened to know, looked after my aunt's affairs. I +went to London that night. My aunt had died sixteen months before, and +had left me six hundred a year. The rest was easy. I took Sir John's +advice. 'Railways,' he said, 'railways; they are the white man's +tentacles;' and Sir John gave me my first employment as an engineer." + +Miranda was silent for a long while after Charnock had ended his +story. Charnock himself had nothing further to say. It was for her to +speak, not for him to question. She had sent the glove. She knew why +he had come. Miranda, however, took a turn along the flagged pathway, +and leaned over the breast-high wall and pointed out a vulture above +the valley, and talked in inattentive, undecided tones upon any +impersonal topic. It was natural, Charnock thought, that she should +wish to con over what he had told her. So he rose from his chair. + +"Shall I come back to-morrow?" he asked, and she rallied herself to +answer him. + +"Will you?" she exclaimed. "I should be so glad," and checking the +ardour of her words, she explained, "I mean of course if you have +nothing better to do," and she examined a flower with intense +absorption, and then looked at him pathetically over her shoulder, as +he moved away. So again he lost sight of the Miranda of the balcony, +and carried away his first impression, that he had met that afternoon +with a stranger. + +His fervour of the morning changed to a chilling perplexity. He +wondered at the change in her. Something else, too, seized upon his +thoughts, and exercised his fancies. Why had she stood so long outside +the door before she hurried in with her simulated surprise? How had +she looked as she paused there, silent and motionless? That question +in particular haunted him, for he thought that if only he could have +seen her through the closed door he would have found a clue which +would lead him to comprehend and to justify her. + +Absorbed by these thoughts he sat through dinner unobservant of his +few neighbours at the long table. He was therefore surprised when, as +he stood in the stone hall, lighting his cigar, a friendly hand was +clapped down upon his shoulder, and an affable voice remarked:-- + +"Aha, dear friend! Finished the little job at Algeciras, I saw. What +are you doing at Ronda?" + +"What are you?" asked Charnock, as he faced the irrepressible Major +Wilbraham. + +"Trying to make seven hundred per annum into a thousand. You see I +have no secrets. Now confidence for confidence, eh, dear friend?" and +his eyes drew cunningly together behind the glowing end of his cigar. + +"I am afraid that I must leave you to guess." + +"Guessing's not very sociable work." + +"Perhaps that's why I am given to it," said Charnock, and he walked +between the stone columns and up the broad staircase. + +The Major looked after him without the slightest resentment. + +"Slipped up that time, Ambrose, my lad," he said to himself, and +sauntered cheerfully out of the hotel. + +Five minutes later Charnock passed through the square at a quick walk. +Wilbraham was meditating a translation of the Carmen Sæculare, but +business habits prevailed with him. He thrust the worn little Horace +into his breast-pocket and followed Charnock at a safe distance. By +means of a skill acquired by much practice, he walked very swiftly and +yet retained the indifferent air of a loiterer. There was another +picture of the tracker and the tracked to be seen that evening, but in +Ronda instead of Tangier, and Charnock was unable to compare it with +its companion picture, since, in this case, he was the tracked. The +two men passed down the hill to the bridge. Charnock stopped for a +little and stood looking over the parapet to the water two hundred and +fifty feet below, which was just visible through the gathering +darkness like a ridge of snow on black soil. Wilbraham halted at the +end of the bridge. It seemed that Charnock was merely taking a stroll. +He had himself, however, nothing better to do at the moment. He waited +and repeated a stanza of his translation to the rhythm of the torrent, +and was not displeased. Charnock moved on across the bridge, across +the Plaza on the farther side of the bridge, up a street until he came +to an old Moorish house that showed a blank yellow wall to the street +and a heavy walnut door encrusted with copper nails. + +Then he stopped again and looked steadily at the house and for a long +while. Wilbraham began pensively to whistle a slow tune under his +breath. Charnock walked on, stopped again, looked back to the house, +as though he searched for a glimpse of the lights. But there was no +chink or cranny in that blank wall. The house faced the street, blind, +dark, and repellent. + +Charnock suddenly retraced his steps. Wilbraham had just time to mount +the doorsteps of a house as though he was about to knock, before +Charnock passed him. Charnock had not noticed him. Wilbraham descended +the steps and followed Charnock back into the Plaza. + +Charnock was looking for a road which he had seen that afternoon from +Miranda's garden, a road which wound in zigzags down the cliff. The +road descended from the Plaza, Charnock discovered it, walked down it; +behind him at a little distance walked Wilbraham. It was now falling +dark, but the night was still, so that Wilbraham was compelled to drop +yet farther and farther behind, lest the sound of his footsteps upon +the hard, dry ground should betray his pursuit. He fell so far behind, +in fact, that he ceased to hear Charnock's footsteps at all. He +accordingly hurried; he did more than hurry, he ran; he turned an +angle of the road and immediately a man seated upon the bank by the +road-side said:-- + +"_Buenas noches_." + +The man was Charnock. + +Wilbraham had the presence of mind not to stop. + +"_Felices suenos_," he returned in a gruff voice and continued to run. +He ran on until another angle of the road hid him. Then he climbed on +to the top of the bank, which was high, and with great caution doubled +back along the ridge until Charnock was just beneath him. + +Charnock was gazing upwards; Wilbraham followed his example, and saw +that right above his head, on the rim of the precipice, an open window +glowed upon the night, a square of warm yellow light empanelled in the +purple gloom. + +The ceiling of the room was visible, and just below the ceiling a +gleam as of polished panels. At that height above them the window +seemed very small; its brightness exaggerated the darkness which +surrounded it; and both men looked into it as into a tiny theatre of +marionettes and expected the performance of a miniature play. + +All that they saw, however, was a shadow-pantomime thrown upon the +ceiling, and that merely of a tantalising kind--the shadow of a +woman's head and hair, growing and diminishing as the unseen woman +moved away or to the candles. A second shadow, and this too the shadow +of a woman, joined the first. But no woman showed herself at the +window, and Charnock, tiring of the entertainment, returned to his +hotel. + +Wilbraham remained to count the houses between that lighted window and +the chasm of the Tajo. He counted six. Then he returned, but not +immediately to the hotel. On reaching the Plaza he walked, indeed, +precisely in the opposite direction, away from the Tajo, and he +counted the houses which he passed and stopped before the seventh. + +The seventh was noticeable for its great doors of walnut-wood and the +geometrical figures which were traced upon it with copper nails. + +The Major cocked his hat on one side, and stepped out for the hotel +most jauntily. "These little accidents," said he, "a brigantine +sighted off Ushant; a man going out for a walk! If only one has +patience! Patience, there's the secret. A little more, and how much--a +great poet!" And he entered the hotel. + +Charnock rose from a bench in the hall, "Pleasant night for a stroll," +said he. + +"Business with me, dear old boy," replied the Major. "I fancy that +after all I have made that seven hundred per annum into a thou. I am +not sure, but I think so. Good-night, sleep well, be good!" With a +flourish of his hand over the balustrade of the stairs, the Major +disappeared. + +Charnock sat down again on the bench and reflected. + +"Wilbraham's at Ronda. I find him at Ronda when I am sent for to +Ronda. Wilbraham said good-night to me on the road. Wilbraham was +following me; Wilbraham's clothes were dusty: it was Wilbraham who +kicked his toes into the grass on the top of the bank while I sat at +the bottom. Have I to meet Wilbraham? What has his seven hundred per +annum to do with Mrs. Warriner? Well, I shall learn to-morrow," he +concluded, and so went to bed. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + WHEREIN THE HERO'S PERPLEXITIES INCREASE + + +Charnock, however, learned nothing the next morning, except perhaps a +lesson in patience. For the greater part of his visit was occupied in +extracting a thorn from one of Mrs. Warriner's fingers. They chanced +to be alone in the garden when the accident occurred, and Miranda +naturally came to him for assistance. She said no word about the +glove, nor did he; it was part of the compact that he should be +silent. He came the next day, and it seemed that there was something +amiss with Miranda's hairpins, for the coils of her hair were +continually threatening to tumble about her shoulders; at least, so +she said, complaining of the weight of her hair. But again there was +no mention of the glove. That afternoon Charnock was introduced to +Miss Holt, whom Miranda kept continually at her side, until Charnock +took his leave, when she accompanied him across the patio. + +"We never seem to get an opportunity of talking to each other," said +she, with the utmost innocence. "Will you ride with me to-morrow? Say +at two. We might ride as far as Ronda La Viega." + +Charnock, who within the last half-hour had begun to consider +whether it would not be wise for him to return to Algeciras, eagerly +accepted the invitation. To-morrow everything would be explained. They +would ride out together, alone, and she would tell him of the dragon +he was required to slay, and no doubt explain why, for these last two +days, she had been marketing her charms. That certainly needed +explanation--for even at this moment in the patio, she was engaged in +kissing a kitten with too elaborate a preparation of her lips to avoid +a suspicion that the pantomime was intended for a spectator. + +Charnock was punctual to the minute of his appointment, and in +Miranda's company rode through the town. As they passed the hotel, +Major Wilbraham came out of the doorway. He took off his hat. Charnock +nodded in reply and turned towards Miranda, remembering his suspicions +as to whether Wilbraham was concerned in the mysterious peril which he +was to combat. To his surprise Miranda instantly smiled at the Major +with extreme friendliness, and markedly returned his bow. + +"Clever, clever!" muttered the Major, as he bit his moustache and +commended her man[oe]uvre. "A little overdone, perhaps; the bow a +trifle too marked; still, it's clever! Ambrose, you will have that +thousand." + +Charnock was perplexed. "How long have you known Wilbraham?" he asked. + +Miranda stammered, bent her head, and smiled as it were in spite of +herself. + +"A long while," she answered, and then she sighed. "A long while," she +repeated softly. Charnock was exasperated to a pitch beyond his +control. + +"If you want to make me believe that you are in love with him," he +returned sharply, almost roughly, "you will fail, Mrs. Warriner. I +should find it hard to believe that he is even one of your friends." + +The words were hardly out of his lips before he regretted them. They +insulted her. She was hardly the woman to sit still under an insult; +but her manner again surprised him. He was almost prepared to be sent +curtly to the right about, whereas she made no answer whatever. She +coloured hotly, and rode forward ahead of him until they were well out +of the town and descending the hill into the bottom of the valley. +Then she fell back again by his side, and said: "Why is your face +always so--illegible?" + +"Is it?" he asked. + +"It's a lid--a shut lid," she said. "One never knows what you think, +how you are disposed." She spoke with some irritation perhaps, but +sincerely, and without any effort at provocation. + +"I was not aware," returned Charnock. "You must set it down to habit, +Mrs. Warriner. I was brought up in a hard school, and learned, no +doubt, intuitively the wisdom of reticence." + +"Is it always wisdom?" she asked doubtfully, and it seemed a strange +question to come from her whose business it was to speak, just as it +was his to listen. But very likely her doubt was in this instance +preferable to his wisdom. Some word of surprise at the change in her, +perhaps one simple gesture of impatience, would have broken down the +barrier between them. But he had taken the buffets of her provocations +and her advances with, as she truly said, an illegible face. + +"Is it always wisdom?" she asked, and she added: "You were not so +reticent when I first met you;" and just that inconsistency between +his bearing at Lady Donnisthorpe's ball, and his inexpressive +composure of these few last days, might have revealed to her at this +moment what he thought, and how he was disposed, had she brought a +cooler mind to consider it. For the man was not chary of expression +when the world went well with him; it was only in the presence of +disappointments, rebuffs, and aversions that his face became a lid. + +They left their horses at a farm-house, and climbed up the rough, +steep slope to the windy ridge on which the old Roman town was built. +They sat for a while upon the stones of the old wall, looking across +the great level plain of olive trees, and poplars, and white villages +gleaming in the sunlight. Here was a fitting moment for the story to +be told, Charnock thought, and expected its telling. But he only saw +that Miranda scrutinised his looks, and he only heard her gabbling of +this triviality and that with a feverish vivacity. And no doubt his +face betrayed less than ever what he thought and felt. + +"Shall I see you to-morrow?" she asked as they parted that afternoon +outside her door. + +"I will come round in the morning after lunch," he replied, and she +uttered a quick little sigh of pleasure, which made Charnock turn his +horse with a sharp, angry tug at the rein, and ride quickly away +across the bridge. + +That first impulse to leave Ronda had gone from him. He was engaged, +through his own wish and action, to serve Mrs. Warriner, and he was +resolved to keep the engagement to the letter. But he was beginning to +realise that he should be serving a woman whom in the bottom of his +heart he despised. The message of his mirror became a fable; he +recalled what Miranda herself had suggested, that the look of distress +which he had seen upon the face was due to his chance visit to +_Macbeth_; and certain words which a woman had spoken at Lady +Donnisthorpe's dance as she sat by the window recurred to him. +"There's a coquette" was one phrase which on this particular evening +recurred and recurred to his thoughts. + +However, he returned to the house upon the rim of the precipice the +next morning, and being led by a servant through the patio into the +garden, came upon Miranda unawares. She was busy amongst her flowers, +cutting the choicest and arranging them in a basket, and she did not +notice Charnock's appearance. Charnock was well content with her +inattention. For in the quiet grace of her movements, as she walked +amongst her flowers, he caught a glimpse of the Miranda whom he knew, +the Miranda of the balcony. The October sunlight was golden about +them, a light wind tempered its heat, and on the wind were borne +upwards to his ears the distant cries of peasants in the plain below. +He had a view now and then of her face, as she rose and stooped, and +he remarked a gentleness and a simplicity in its expression which had +been foreign to it since he had come to Ronda. + +But the expression changed when she saw Charnock standing in the +garden. + +"Who do you think I am cutting these flowers for?" she asked with an +intolerable playfulness. "You will never guess." + +Charnock stepped over to her side. + +"Mrs. Warriner," said he, "will you give me one?" + +She looked at him with a whimsical hesitation. + +"They are intended for Gibraltar," she said, as she caressed the bunch +which she held--but she spoke with a great repugnance, and the +playfulness had gone from her voice before she had ended the sentence. + +"For Gibraltar?" he exclaimed, remembering the gentle look upon her +face as she had culled them. "For whom in Gibraltar? For whom?" He +confronted her squarely; his voice commanded her to answer. + +She drew back from him; the colour went from her cheeks; her fingers +were interclasped convulsively; it seemed as though the words she +tried to speak were choking her. But her emotion lasted for no more +than a moment, though for that moment Charnock could not doubt that it +was real. He took a step forwards, and she was again mistress of +herself. + +"Yes, I will give you one," she said hurriedly. "I will even fix it in +your button-hole. Will you be grateful if I do? Will you be very +grateful?" Charnock neither answered nor moved. He stood in front of +her with a face singularly stolid. But Miranda's hands touched his +breast, and at the shock of her fingers he drew in his breath, and his +whole body vibrated. + +And how it came about neither of them knew, but in an instant the +flowers were on the ground between them, and her hands gripped his +shoulders as they stood face to face and tightened upon them in a +passionate appeal. He read the same passionate appeal in her eyes, +which now frankly looked up to his. + +"You don't know," she cried incoherently, "you don't know." + +"But I wish to know," he exclaimed, "tell me;" and his arms went about +her waist. She uttered a cry and violently tore and plucked his arms +from her. + +"No," she cried, "no, not now," and she heard the latch of the door +click. Charnock heard it too. + +"When?" said he, as he stood away, and the door opened and Major +Wilbraham with his hat upon his heart bowed, with great elegance, upon +the threshold. Miranda started. She looked from Charnock to Wilbraham, +from Wilbraham to Charnock. + +"So he is one of your friends," said Charnock. + +"Have you the right to choose my friends?" she asked, and she greeted +Wilbraham warmly. + +The Major seemed very much at his ease. It was the first occasion on +which he had had the effrontery to push his way into the house, but +from his manner one would have judged him a family friend. He waved a +hand to Charnock. + +"So you are there, dear old darling boy!" he cried. His endearments +increased with every meeting. "I saw you come in and thought I might +as well call at the same time, eh, Mrs. Warriner? So pleasant, I meet +Charnock everywhere. Destiny will have us friends. That dear Destiny!" +And as Charnock with an ill-concealed air of distaste turned from them +towards the valley, Wilbraham whispered to Miranda, "You need have no +fear. I shall not say a word--unless you force me to." + +Miranda drew back. She stood for a moment with her hands clenched, and +her eyelids closed, her face utterly weary and ashamed. Then with a +gesture of revolt she turned towards Charnock. + +Instantly the Major stepped in front of her. + +"May I beg one?" said he, pointing to the basket of flowers. It was +all very well for him to threaten Miranda that he would tell Charnock +of her husband; but it would not suit his purpose at all for her +actually to tell him on an impulse of revolt against the deception and +the hold he himself had upon her. So he fixed his eyes steadily upon +her face. + +"May I beg one?" and he bent towards the stool on which the basket was +set. + +"Not of those!" she cried, "not of those!" and she snatched up the +basket and held it close. + +"But you shall have one," she continued with a forced laugh, as over +Wilbraham's shoulder she saw Charnock watching them, and she snapped +off some flowers from their stems with her fingers until she held a +bunch. "There! Make your choice, Major. A flower sets off a man." + +"Just as a wife sets off a husband, eh, Mrs. Warriner?" returned +the Major, with a sly gallantry, as he fixed the flower in his +button-hole. "Eh, Charnock, did you hear?" + +He joined Charnock as he spoke, and Miss Holt coming from the house, +the talk became general. But Charnock noticed that at one moment +Miranda moved carelessly away from the group, and leaning carelessly +over the wall, carelessly dropped down the face of the cliff the whole +bunch of flowers from which Wilbraham had chosen one. As she lifted +her eyes, however, she saw Charnock watching her, and at once and for +the rest of the time during which her guests remained, she made her +court to Wilbraham with a feverish assiduity. She laughed immoderately +at his jokes, she was extremely confused by his compliments, she +displayed the completest deference to his opinions; so that even the +unobservant Miss Holt was surprised. + +Charnock was the first to break up the gathering. + +"I must be going," he said curtly to Miranda. + +"It would almost seem that you were displeased with us," she answered +defiantly. + +"I beg your pardon," said he, coldly. "I do not claim the privilege to +be displeased." + +"Jolly afternoon," murmured the Major, in a cheery desire to make the +peace, "good company, dear old friends"--and he saw that Miranda was +unmistakably bowing good-bye to himself. He took the hint at once. The +Major was in a very good humour that afternoon, and as the party +walked back to the house, he fell behind to Miranda, who had already +fallen behind. + +"Clever, clever," he remarked encouragingly, "to play me off against +the real man. A little overdone perhaps, but clever. I trust I did my +part. We'll make it a thousand per annum." + +Miranda quickened her pace and took her leave of her visitors at the +door of the garden. Wilbraham was in no particular hurry to settle his +business; he was quite satisfied for that afternoon, and he entered +genially into conversation with Miss Holt upon the subject of her +grievances. + +Thus Miss Holt and Wilbraham crossed the patio and entered the passage +to the outer door. Charnock followed a few steps behind them; and just +after Miss Holt with her companion had entered the passage, while he +yet stood in the patio, he heard a door slam behind him. + +He turned, and walked round the tiny group of tamarisks in the centre +of the patio. It was not the door into the garden which had slammed, +because that now stood wide open, whereas he remembered he had closed +it behind him; and the only other door in that side of the house was +the door of Miranda's parlour. He had left Miranda in the garden; it +was plainly she who had slammed the door, and had slammed it upon +herself. + +Charnock was alone in the empty patio. It was very quiet; the sunshine +was a steady golden glow upon the tiled floor, upon the tiled walls; +above in the square of blue there was no scarf of cloud. He stood in +the quiet empty patio, and the touch of her fingers tingled again upon +his breast. Again he saw her drop the flowers she had culled for +Wilbraham down the cliff. Amongst his doubts and perplexities those +two recollections shone. They were accurate, indisputable. Her +feverish vivacity, her coquetries, her friendliness to Wilbraham, her +silence towards himself, the basket of flowers for Gibraltar--these +things were puzzles. But twice that afternoon she had been true to +herself, and each time she had betrayed the reality of her trouble and +the reality of her need. + +It was very still in the patio. A bee droned amongst the tamarisks. It +seemed to Charnock that, after much sojourning in outlandish corners +of the earth, he who had foreseen his life as a struggle with the +brutality of inanimate things was, after all, here in the still +noonday, within these four walls, to undergo the crisis of his +destiny. He gently turned the handle of the door and entered the room. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + MIRANDA PROFESSES REGRET FOR A PRACTICAL JOKE + + +He closed the door behind him. Miranda had neither seen nor heard him +enter. She sat opposite to the door, on the other side of the round +oak table, her arms stretched out upon the table, her face buried in +her arms. She was not weeping, and Charnock might have believed from +the abandonment of her attitude that she lay in a swoon, but for one +movement that she made. Her outstretched hands were clasped together +and her fingers perpetually worked, twisting and intertwisting. There +was no sound whatever in the room beyond the ticking of a clock, and +Charnock leaned against the door and found the silence horrible. He +would have preferred it to have been broken if only by the sound of +her tears. All his doubts, all his accusations, were swept clean out +of his brain by the sight of her distress, and, tortured himself, he +stood witness of her torture. He advanced to the table, and leaning +over it took the woman's clasped hands into his. + +"Miranda!" he whispered, and again, "Miranda!" and there was just the +same tenderness in his voice, as when he had first pronounced the name +in the balcony over St. James's Park. + +Miranda did not lift her head, but her hands answered the clasp of +his. She did not in truth know at that moment who was speaking to her. +She was only sensible of the sympathy of his touch and the great +comfort of his voice. + +Charnock bent lower towards her. + +"I love you," he said, "you--Miranda." + +Then she raised her face and stared at him with uncomprehending eyes. + +"I love you," he repeated. + +She looked down towards her hands which he still held and suddenly she +shivered. + +"I love you," he said a third time. + +And she understood. She wrenched her hands away, she stretched out her +arms, she thrust him away from her, in her violence she struck him. + +"No, it's not true," she cried, "it's not true!" and so fell to +pleading volubly. "Say that it's not true, now, at once. Say there's +no truth in your words. Say that pity prompted them and only pity," +and her voice rose again in a great horror. Horror glittered too in +her eyes. "Say that you spoke more than you meant to speak!" + +"I can say that," he answered. "When I came into this room I had no +thought of speaking--as I did. But I saw you--I watched your hands," +and he caught his breath, "and they plucked the truth out from me. For +what I said is true." + +"No!" she cried. + +"Very true," he repeated quietly. + +Her protesting arms fell limply to her sides. She nodded her head, +submitted to his words, acknowledged their justice. + +"Yes," she said, "yes. I knew this afternoon. You told me in the +garden, and though I would not know, still I could not but know." + +Then she rose from her chair and walked to the window. Charnock did +not speak. He hung upon her answer, and yet dreaded to hear it, so +that when her lips moved, he would have had them still, and when they +ceased to move, he was conscious of a great relief. After a long while +she spoke, very slowly and without turning to face him, words which he +did not understand. + +"Love," she said, in a wondering murmur, "is it so easily got? And by +such poor means? Surely, then it's a slight thing itself, of no +account, surely not durable," and at once her calmness forsook her; +she was caught up in a whirl of passion. She raised a quivering face, +and cried aloud in despair: "It's the friend I wanted; I want no +lover!" + +"But you have both," returned Charnock. With a hand upon the table he +leaned over it towards her. "You have both." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Miranda. With extraordinary swiftness she swung round +and copied his movement. She leaned her hand upon the table, and bent +forward to him. "But to win the one I have had to create the other. To +possess the friend I have had to make the lover," and she suddenly +threw herself back and stood erect. "Well, then," and she spoke with a +thrill in her voice, as though she had this instant become aware of a +new and a true conviction, "I must use neither--I will use neither--I +want neither." + +She faced Charnock resolute, and in her own fancy inflexible to any +appeal. Only he made no appeal; he drew his hand across his forehead +and looked at her with an expression of simple worry and bewilderment. + +"My ways have lain amongst men, and men, and men," he said +regretfully. "I wish I understood more about women." + +The simplicity of his manner and words touched her as no protestations +would have done, and broke down her self-control. + +"My dear, my dear!" she cried, with a laugh which had more of tears in +it than amusement, "I am not so sure that we understand so very much +about ourselves;" and she dropped again into the chair and covered her +face with her hands. But she heard Charnock move round the table +towards her, and she dared not risk the touch of his hand, or so much +as the brushing of his coat against her dress. She drew her hands from +her face, held out her arms straight in front of her like bars, and +shrank back in the chair behind the protection of those bars. + +"I do not want you," she said deliberately, with a quiet harshness. +"That, at all events, I understand and know. Go! Go away! I do not +want you!" and the words, spoken this time without violence or haste, +struck Charnock like a blow. + +He stood dazed. He shook his head, as though it sang from the blow. +Miranda drew in a breath. "Go!" she repeated. + +"You do not want me?" he asked, and somehow, whether it was owing to +his tone or his look, Miranda understood from the few words of his +question how much he had built upon the belief that she needed him; +and consequently the reply she made now cost her more than all the +rest to make. "I do not," she managed to say firmly, and dared not +hazard another syllable. + +Charnock felt in his breast-pocket, took out an envelope, and from the +envelope a glove. "Yet this was sent to me." He laid the glove upon +the table. "It was sent by you." Miranda took it up. "It contradicts +your words." + +Miranda turned the glove over, and stretched it out upon her knees. +"Does it?" she asked, with a slow smile, "does it contradict my +words?" + +"You sent it to me?" + +"No doubt." + +"You summoned me by sending it." + +"Surely." + +"For some purpose, then?" + +"Ah, but for what purpose?" said she, leaning forwards in her chair. +The cold smile was still upon her face, and seemed to Charnock +unfriendly as even her violence had not been. It had some cruelty too, +and perhaps, too, some cunning. + +"For what purpose? You should know. It is for you to say," he answered +in a dull, tired voice. He had built more upon this unneeded service +than he himself had been aware. + +"I will tell you," continued Miranda. "You have talked to my companion +Miss Holt?" + +"Yes." + +"She has no very strong faith in men. Perhaps you noticed as much." + +"No." + +"I did not agree with her. I had the glove. It would be--amusing to +know whether she was right or whether I was. I sent it to you." + +"Just to prove whether I should keep my word or not?" + +"Yes," said Miranda. + +"Just for your amusement, in a word?" + +"Amusement was the word I chose." + +"I see, I see." His voice was lifeless, his face dull and stony. +Miranda moved uneasily as she watched him; but he did not notice her +movement or regard her with any suspicion. His thoughts and feelings +were muffled. He seemed to be standing somewhere a long way outside +himself and contemplating the two people here in the room with a deal +of curiosity, and with perhaps a little pity; of which pity the woman +had her share with the man. "I see," he continued. "It was all a +sham?" + +Miranda glanced at him, and from him to the glove. "Even the glove was +a sham," she said quickly. "Look at it." + +He bent down and lifted it from her knees. Then he drew up a chair to +the table, sat down, and examined the glove. Miranda hitched her chair +closer to the table, too, and propping her elbows there, supported her +chin upon her hands. + +"You see that the glove is fresh," she said. + +"It has been worn," answered Charnock. "The fingers have been shaped +by wearing." + +"It was worn by me for ten minutes in this room the day I posted it to +you." + +"But the tear?" he asked with a momentary quickening of speech. + +"I tore it." + +"I see." He laid the glove upon the table. "And the other glove--the +one you wore that night--the one I tore upon the balcony over St. +James's Park? It was you I met that night in London? Or wasn't it?" + +The question was put without any sarcasm, but with the same dull +curiosity which had marked his other questions, and on her side she +answered it simply as she had answered the others. "Yes, it was I whom +you met, and the glove you speak of was thrown away." + +It seemed that he had come to the end of his questions, for he sat for +a little, drumming with his fingers on the table. Once he looked up +and towards the window, as though his very eyes needed the relief of +the wide expanse of valley. + +"Now will you go? Please," said Miranda, gently, and the next moment +regretted that she had spoken. + +"Oh, yes, I will go," he answered. "I will go back to Algeciras, and +from Algeciras to England." He was not looking at her, and so noticed +nothing of the spasm of pain which for a second convulsed her face at +his literal acceptation of her prayer. "But before I go, tell me;" and +the questions began again. + +"You say you need no one?" + +"No one." + +"Then why did you cry out a minute ago, 'It's the friend I want, +not the lover'? You were not amusing yourself then. Why, too, did +you--this afternoon in the garden, perhaps you remember--when the +flowers fell on to the ground between us? Neither were you amusing +yourself then." + +Miranda drew the glove away from where it lay in front of him; +absently she began to slip it over her hand, and then becoming aware +of what she did, and of certain associations with that action at this +moment, she hurriedly stripped it off. + +"Perhaps I have no right to press you," he said; "but I should like to +know." + +Miranda spread the glove out on the table, and carefully divided and +spread out the fingers. "I will tell you," she said at length, with +something of a spirt in the quickness of her speech. "I am still +capable of remorse, though very likely you can hardly believe that. Do +you remember," she began to speak with greater ease, "when we rode out +to Ronda La Viega, I asked you why you never expressed what you felt? +I was then beginning to be afraid that you would take my--my trick too +much to heart--that you would really think I needed you. My fear +became certain this afternoon, when I--I was putting the flower in +your coat. I was sorry then, as you saw when you came into the room. I +was yet more sorry when you spoke to me as you did, for I thought that +if you hadn't cared, if you had never intended to be more than my +friend, the trick would not have mattered so much. And that was just +what I meant, when I said it was the friend I wanted, not the lover." + +Charnock listened to the explanation, accepted it and put it away in +his mind. + +"I see," he remarked, and her bosom rose and fell quickly. "All this +time you have been just playing with me as you played with Wilbraham +this afternoon." + +"Just in the same way," she returned without flinching. + +"Ah, but you dropped his flower down the cliff," he exclaimed +suddenly. + +"You forget that yours had already fallen on to the ground." + +"Yes, that's true," and the suspicion died out of his face. "And that +basket of flowers?" he asked. + +This time, and for the first time since the questions had begun, +Miranda did flinch. She had a great difficulty in answering, "It has +already been sent off." + +"To Gibraltar?" Miranda's difficulty increased. "To whom at Gibraltar? +A friend, a man?" + +Miranda's face grew very white; she tried to speak and failed; her +throat, her lips, refused the answer. "At all events," she managed to +whisper hoarsely, "not to a woman," and thereupon she laughed most +mirthlessly, till the strange, harsh, strangled noise of it penetrated +as something unfamiliar to Charnock's dazed mind. + +"I beg your pardon," he said; "I was forgetful. I had no right to ask +you," and he rose from his chair. She rose too. "I am glad," he +continued with a formal politeness, "that you do not after all stand +in need of anyone's help." + +"Oh, no," she replied carelessly, "no one's;" and almost before she +was aware, he was holding her wrists, one in each of his hands, and +with his eyes he was searching her face, silently interrogating her +for the truth. Once before, upon the balcony, he had bidden her in +just this way answer him, and now, as then, she found herself under a +growing compulsion to obey. + +"You hurt me," she had the wit to say, and instantly Charnock released +her wrists. + +"I beg your pardon," said he, and he walked to the door. At the door +he turned. "Tell me," he said abruptly, "you dropped your glove--not +that one on the table, but the other--just as you stepped out on to +the balcony?" + +"Yes," she answered, and wondered what was coming. + +"Was that an accident?" + +Miranda stepped back and lowered her head. + +"You remember everything," she murmured. + +"Was it an accident?" + +"You are unsparing." + +"Was it an accident?" + +"No." + +"It was a trick, a sham like all the rest?" + +"Just like all the rest," said Miranda, wearily. + +"I see," said Charnock. "Good-bye." + +He went out of the room and closed the door behind him. + +It was very quiet and still in the patio. In the square of blue sky +there was no cloud; the sunshine poured into the court, only in one +corner there was a shadow climbing the wall, where there had been no +shadow when he entered the room. He vaguely wondered what the time +was, and then someone laughed. Someone above him. He looked up. Jane +Holt was leaning over the railing of the balcony. + +He made some sort of remark; and he gathered from her reply that he +had been asking why she laughed. + +"Why did I laugh?" she said. "Do you believe in affinities?" + +"No," he rejoined. "Why?" + +She descended the stairs as she answered him. + +"I saw you standing in the doorway there with your hand on your +throat, breathing hard and quick, and altogether a very tragical +picture." + +Charnock was not aware whether the details were true or not. "Well?" +he asked. + +"Well," she replied. "Do you remember the afternoon you came here? I +was in that lounge chair. You were shown into the parlour. You did not +notice me. Neither did Miranda when she followed you. But she stopped +on the threshold." + +"Yes, I remarked it. She stopped for some while. Well?" + +"Well, she stood just as you were standing a minute ago, in that +precise attitude, with her hand to her throat, breathing hard and +quick, and with a face not less tragical." + +Charnock's face now at all events ceased to look tragical. Jane Holt +saw it brighten extraordinarily. Miranda, had she been there, would +not at this moment have complained of its lack of expression. + +"That's true?" he asked eagerly. "What you tell me is true? She stood +here, and in that attitude?" + +"Yes." + +"That's the one point unexplained. I forgot to ask. She did not refer +to it. She stood here breathing hard and quick, you say, before she +entered the room--with all that appearance of surprise--she stood +here! Mere remorse does not account for that, does not account for her +manner. On her own showing it cannot account, since the remorse was +only felt this afternoon. There _is_ something more." He was talking +enigmas to Miss Holt, who went into the parlour and left him in the +patio to talk to himself if he would. She was not greatly interested +in his relationship towards Miranda. However, Charnock was not the +only person to talk enigmas to her that afternoon. She found Miranda +standing just as Charnock had left her. Miranda remained standing, +with any absent answer to Jane Holt's remarks, until the big +outer-doors clanged to, and made the house tremble. + +Then she started violently. The sound of those doors shook her as no +word or look of Charnock's had done. Her ears magnified it. It seemed +to her that the doors swung to from the east and from the west, clean +across the world, shutting Charnock upon the one side, and herself +upon the other. It seemed to her too that as they clanged together, +her heart was caught and broken between them. + +"You were wrong, Jane," she said. "There are men who would be friends +if we would only let them. Possibly we always find it out too late; I +only found it out this afternoon." The clock struck the hour as she +was speaking. "Four o'clock; the train for Algeciras leaves at +six-fifteen," she said. + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + IN WHICH THE MAJOR LOSES HIS TEMPER AND RECOVERS IT + + +All that evening Miranda's imagination followed the 6.15 train from +Ronda to Algeciras. She looked at the clock at half-past ten. The +ferry would be crossing from Algeciras to Gibraltar, and no doubt +Charnock was crossing upon it. She felt a loneliness of which she had +never had experience. And when she woke up in the morning from a +troubled sleep, it was only to picture some stately mail steamer +marching out from Algeciras Bay. She was conscious to the full of the +irony of the situation. If she had only met this man years ago, seven +years ago--that regret was a continual cry at her heart, and not the +least part of her loneliness was made up from her clear remembrance of +the picture of herself which she had given him to carry away. + +She ordered her horse to be brought round early that morning, and rode +out past the hotel a few minutes before nine. Major Wilbraham saw her +pass. He was down betimes as a rule when he stayed in a hotel, since +it was his habit, as often as possible, to look over the letters which +came for the different visitors. The mere postmark he had known upon +occasion to give him quite valuable hints. There was only, however, a +telegram for Charnock, which he genially offered to deliver himself +and did deliver, running into Charnock's bedroom for that purpose. +Charnock thanked him and read the telegram. It seemed to raise his +spirits. + +"Good news, old friend?" asked the Major. + +"Well--interesting news," replied Charnock, as he lathered his face. + +"Well, you shall give me it another time," said the Major, as he saw +Charnock put the telegram in his pocket. "So long!" + +The Major went downstairs and kept an eye upon the road. At ten +o'clock he noticed Miranda returning slowly. He put on his hat and +followed her. When he reached the house the horse was still at the +door, but Miranda had gone in. He observed that Charnock was +hesitating upon the other side of the road. Charnock was in fact +debating his plan of action; the Major's was already prepared. The +door stood open. Wilbraham put ceremony upon one side, the more +readily since ceremony would very likely have barred the door in his +face. He walked straight into the patio where Miranda stood before a +little wicker table drawing off her gloves. + +"Had a pleasant ride?" said the Major. "Nice horse; I am partial to +roans myself--" + +"What do you want?" asked Miranda. + +"To so uncompromising a question, I must needs give an uncompromising +reply. I want one thousand jimmies per annum," and the Major bowed +gracefully. + +"No," said Miranda. + +"But excuse me, yes, very much yes. You see, there is my excellent +young friend, the locomotive-man." + +"Can't you keep his name out of the conversation?" she suggested, but +with a dangerous quietude of voice. + +"Indeed no," replied the Major, who was entirely at his ease. He +looked sympathetically at her face. "You look pale; you have not slept +well; you are tired, and so you do not follow me. Charnock is my God +of the machine, a blind unconscious God--shall we say a Cupid, but a +Cupid in the machine? Let me explain! May I be seated? No? So sorry! +On the first night of Charnock's stay at Ronda, I had the honour to +follow him while he took a stroll." + +"You followed him unseen, of course?" said Miranda, contemptuously, as +she tossed her gloves on to the wicker table. + +"You take me, you take me perfectly," returned the Major. "I followed +him unseen, a habit of mine, and at times a very profitable habit. +Charnock walked--whither? Can you guess? Can't you tell?" He hummed +with unabashed impertinence. "He walked down a certain road which +winds down the precipice under your windows. Ah!"--he uttered the +exclamation in a playful raillery, for Miranda's hand had gone to her +heart; "he walked down that road until he came to an angle from which +he could see your lighted window." + +"Show me," said Miranda, suddenly. She walked round the patio, threw +open the door of her parlour, and crossed to the window. The window +was open, and the Major looked out. The window was in the outer wall +of the wing, and was built on the very rim of the precipice. Wilbraham +looked straight down on to the road. + +"That was the angle, Mrs. Warriner," said he, pointing with his +finger. "By that heap of stones he sat him down." Mrs. Warriner leaned +out of the window with something of a smile parting her lips. "At the +bottom of the bank he sat and aspired. Little Ambrose reclined on the +top." + +Miranda turned from the window abruptly. "Let us go back." She +returned to the patio and took her former position by the wicker +table. Wilbraham, upon the other side of it, faced her. + +"We could only see the ceiling of the room," he continued, "and the +shadow of your head. But so little contents an amorous engineer. He +sighed, and what a sigh, and yet how typical! So hoarse it seemed the +whistle of an engine; so deep, it surely came from a cutting. He went +home singing beneath the stars. He did not tread the ground. How +should he? Love was his permanent way." + +Miranda had listened so far without interruption, though the Major, +had he been less pleased with his flowery description, might have +noticed something ominous in the still depths of her dark eyes. "Mr. +Wilbraham," she said, "there is a little wicker table between us." + +"I see it." + +"And on the table?" + +"A pair of gloves." + +"Not only a pair of gloves." + +"Ah true! A riding-whip." + +"I was sure that you had not noticed it before." + +The Major picked it up and examined the mounting of the handle. "It is +very pretty," he remarked with emphasis, and laid it down again. "As I +was about to say,"--he proceeded with his argument,--"I thus obtained +on the night of Charnock's arrival a very clear knowledge of his +sentiments towards you, while you, on the other hand, have been +obliging enough to favour me with some hint of your own towards him, +not merely this morning, when you asked me to point out the precise +point of the road from which he worshipped your window, but yesterday +when, in order to give an impetus to his bashfulness, you ingeniously +courted myself. If I were, then, at all disposed to make +unpleasantness, you see that all I have to do is to walk out of your +house and inform the trustful Charnock that Mrs. Warriner is carefully +concealing the existence of her husband from the man with whom she is +in love." + +Miranda took up the riding-whip. The Major did not give ground. If +anything, he leaned a little towards her. His eyebrows drew together +until they joined; his bird-like eyes narrowed. + +"Drop it! Drop that whip," he commanded sharply. "I warn you, Mrs. +Warriner. I have dealt with you gently, though you are a woman; be +prudent. What if I took the gloves off? Eh?" + +"You would place me in a better position," replied Miranda, who still +held the whip, "to point out to you that your hands are not clean." + +Wilbraham stepped back, stared at her, and burst into a laugh. "I will +never deny that you are possessed or an admirable spirit," said he. + +"I would rather have your threats than your compliments," said she. +"For your threats I can answer with threats; I cannot do the same with +your compliments." + +"Threat for threat, then," said the Major; "but there's a difference +in the threats. You cannot put yours into practice since I have my +eyes upon the whip, whereas I can mine." + +"Can you?" said Miranda, with a suspicion of triumph. + +"I can," returned the Major. "I can walk straight out of your house +and tell Luke Charnock," and he banged his hand upon the table and +leaned over it. "Now what do you say?" + +"I say that you cannot, for Mr. Charnock is at Gibraltar, if he is not +already on the sea." + +"Mr. Charnock is at Ronda, and contemplating the ornaments of your +door at this very moment," said the Major, triumphantly. + +But never did a man get less visible proofs of his triumph. Miranda, +it is true, was evidently startled; her bosom rose and fell quickly; +but she was pleasurably startled, as her face showed. For it cleared +of its weariness with a magical swiftness, the blood pulsed warmly in +her cheeks, her eyes sparkled and laughed, her contemptuous lips +parted in the happiest of smiles. + +Wilbraham construed her reception of his news in his own fashion. + +"You may smile, my lady," said he, brutally. "It's gratifying no doubt +to have your lover hanging about your doors, a wistful Lazarus for the +crumbs of your favour. It's pleasant no doubt to transform a man into +a tame whipped puppy-dog. There's not one of you, from Eve to a modern +factory-girl, but envies Circe her enchantments, and imitates them to +the best of her ability. Circes--Circes in laced petticoats and +open-worked stockings--to help you in the dainty work of making a man +a beast." The Major's vindictiveness had fairly got hold of him. "But +in the original story, if you remember, the men resumed their shape; +now what if I play Ulysses in our version of the story!--" There was a +knock upon the outer door. The Major paused, and continued hurriedly: +"Do you understand? That knock may have been Charnock's. Do you +understand? He may be entering the house at this moment." + +"He is," said Miranda, quietly. + +The Major listened. He distinctly heard Charnock's voice speaking to +the servant; he dropped his own to a whisper. "Then what if I told +him, your lover, now and here, the truth about Ralph Warriner?" + +"You shall," said Miranda. + +Major Wilbraham was completely taken aback. She had spoken in no gust +of passion, but slowly and calmly. Her face, equally calm, equally +resolute, showed him that she intended and understood what she had +said. The Major was in a predicament. The drawback to blackmailing as +a profession is that the blackmailer's secret is only of value so long +as he never tells it, his threats only of use so long as they are +never enforced; and here he was in imminent danger of being compelled +to tell his secret and execute his threat. If Charnock knew the truth, +he would certainly lose his extra three hundred per annum. Moreover, +since Charnock was a man, and not a woman, he would very likely lose +his original seven hundred into the bargain. These reflections flashed +simultaneously into the Major's mind; but already he heard Charnock's +step sounding in the passage. "I don't wish to push you too far," he +whispered. "Tomorrow, to-morrow." + +"No, to-day," said Miranda, quietly. "You shall tell my lover the +truth about Ralph Warriner, and to help you to tell it him +convincingly you shall tell it with this mark across your face." + +Charnock did not see the blow struck, but he heard Wilbraham's cry, +and as he entered the patio, he saw the wheal redden and ridge upon +his face. He stood still for a second in amazement. Wilbraham had +reeled back from the table against the wall, with his coat-sleeve +pressed upon his smarting cheeks. Miranda alone seemed composed. There +was indeed even an air of relief about her; for she was at last to be +lightened of the deception. + +"Major Wilbraham," she said as she dropped the whip upon the table and +walked away to a lounge chair, "Major Wilbraham,"--she seated herself +in the chair as though she was to be henceforward a spectator,--"Major +Wilbraham has a confidence to make to you," she said. + +"And by God I have!" snarled the Major as he started forward. It would +be told for a certain thing, either by Mrs. Warriner or himself, and +since the slash of the whip burned intolerably upon his face, he meant +to do the telling himself. + +"That woman's husband is alive." + +Charnock's face was a mask. He did not start; he did not even look at +Miranda; only he was silent for some seconds. Then he said, "Well?" +and said it in a quite commonplace, ordinary voice, as though he +wondered what there was to make any pother about. + +Miranda was startled, the Major utterly dumbfoundered. His blow had +seemingly failed to hurt, and his anger was thereby redoubled. + +"A small thing, eh?" he sneered. "A husband more or less don't matter +in these days of the sacred laws of passion? Well, very likely. But +this husband is a peculiar sort of a husband. He slipped out of +Gibraltar one fine night. Why? Because he had sold the plans of the +new Daventry gun to a foreign government, being stony." + +"Well?" said Charnock, again. + +"Well, I know where he is." + +"Well?" asked Charnock, for the third time, and with an unchanged +imperturbability. + +Wilbraham suddenly ceased from his accusations. He looked at Miranda, +who was herself looking on the ground, and gently beating it with her +foot. From Miranda he looked to Charnock. Then he uttered a long +whistle, as if some new idea had occurred to him. "So you are both in +the pretty secret, are you?" he said, and stopped to consider how that +supposition affected himself. His hopes immediately revived. "Why, +then, you are both equally interested in keeping it dark! I can't say +but what I am glad, for I can point out to you precisely what I have +pointed out to Mrs. Warriner. I have merely to present myself at +Scotland Yard, observe that Ralph Warriner is alive, and mention a +port in England where he may from time to time be found, and--do you +follow me?--there is Ralph Warriner laid by the heels in a place which +not even a triple-expansion locomotive, with the engineer from +Algeciras for the driver, will get him out of." + +"And how does that concern me?" asked Charnock. + +"The consequences concern you. It will be known, for instance, that +Mrs. Warriner has a real live husband." + +"I see," said Charnock. He looked at Wilbraham with a curious +interest. Then he spoke to Miranda, but without looking towards her at +all. "It is blackmail, I suppose?" + +"Yes," said she. + +"It is a claim for common gratitude," Wilbraham corrected. + +"What's the price of the claim?" asked Charnock, pleasantly. + +"One thousand jimmies per annum is the minimum figure," replied the +Major, whose jauntiness was quite restored. Since his affairs +progressed so swimmingly towards prosperity, he was prepared to +forgive, and, as soon as his looking-glass allowed, to forget that +hasty slash of the riding-whip. + +"And up till now how much have you received?" continued Charnock, in +the same pleasant business-like voice. + +"A beggarly two hundred and fifty." + +"Then if for form's sake you will give Mrs. Warriner an I O U for that +amount she can wish you good-day." + +Wilbraham smiled gaily, and with some condescension. "Is it bluff?" +said he. "Where's the use? My dear Charnock, I have a full hand, +and--" + +"My dear Major," replied Charnock, "I hold a royal straight flush." + +He produced a telegram from his pocket. The Major eyed it with +suspicion. "Is that the telegram I brought into your room this +morning?" + +"It is. To keep up your metaphor, you dealt me my hand. Do you call +it?" + +The Major cocked his head. Charnock's ease was so very natural; his +good temper so complete. Still, he might be merely playing the game; +besides, one never knew what there might be in a telegram. "I do," he +said. + +"Very well," said Charnock. He sat down upon a chair, and spread out +the telegram on his knee. "You talk very airily, Major, of dropping in +upon Scotland Yard. Would it surprise you to hear that Scotland Yard +would welcome you with open arms, for other reasons than a mere +gratitude for your information?" + +The Major was more than disappointed; he confessed to being grieved. +"I expected something more subtle, I did indeed. Really, my dear +Charnock, you are a novice! Sir, a novice." + +"But a novice with a royal straight flush. Major, why have you been +living for four months at an out-of-the-way and unentertaining place +like Tarifa?" + +"I will answer you with frankness. I wished to keep my fingers upon +Mrs. Warriner. An occasional tweak of the fingers, dear friend, is +very useful if only to show that you are awake." + +"Was that the only reason?" + +"No," interposed Miranda. "He wanted quiet; he is translating Horace." + +The Major actually blushed, for the first and last time that morning. +Accusations, even proofs of infamy, he could accept without a stir of +the muscles; but to be charged, perhaps to be ridiculed, with his one +honourable project--the Major was hurt. + +"A little mean!" he said gently to Miranda. "You will agree with me +when you think it over. A little mean!" + +"But there was a third reason beyond those two," resumed Charnock. +"When I saw you dining at the hotel on the night of my arrival, when I +remembered that you had been living for four months at Tarifa, where +from time to time I had the pleasure to come across you, I began, for +reasons which there's no need to explain, to wonder whether you were +causing any trouble to Mrs. Warriner. That night, too, if you +remember, when I went for a stroll"--here Charnock faltered for a +second, and Miranda looked quickly up--"you followed me, Major. When I +sat down at the foot of the bank, you crouched upon the top. You made +a mistake there, Major, for I at once thought it wise to learn what I +could of your history and character. I accordingly wrote a letter that +night to a friend of mine, who also happens to be an official at +Scotland Yard. His answer, you see, comes by telegraph, and you will +see that a reply is prepaid." + +He handed the telegram to the Major. The Major read it through and +glanced anxiously towards the door, taking up his hat from the table +at the same time. + +"I think so, too," said Charnock. + +"What does the telegram say?" asked Miranda. + +"Nothing definite, but every word of it is suggestive," answered +Charnock. "I asked my friend if he knew anything of Major Ambrose +Wilbraham. He wires me: 'Yes. Is he at Ronda?' and prepays the reply. +If there's a warrant already issued, Major, I don't think I should +waste time, but you of course are the best judge." + +"Did you answer it?" asked the Major. + +"I have not answered it yet. Do you think Scotland Yard will wait for +an answer? It does not interest me very much. The one point which does +interest me is this. You are hardly in a position to enter into +communication with Scotland Yard in order to revenge yourself on Mrs. +Warriner for not paying you blackmail." + +Major Wilbraham tugged at his moustache. His jauntiness had vanished, +and his face had grown very sombre and tired during the last few +minutes. + +"I get nothing, then?" + +"Not one depreciated Spanish dollar." + +There was a knock at the door. The Major started; he looked from +Charnock to Miranda, his mouth opened, his eyes widened, he became at +once a creature scared and hunted. The door was opened; the three +people in the patio held their breath; but it was merely the postman +with a letter for Miranda. + +"I must get out of here," said Wilbraham. "I must get out of Ronda. My +God, I have to begin it again, have I--the hunt for breakfast and +dinner?" + +He showed a dangerous face at that moment. His lips were drawn back +from his teeth, his eyes furtive and murderous. Miranda felt very glad +of Charnock's presence. + +However, the Major mastered himself. He might have taken some sort of +revenge by insulting Miranda, on account of her disposition towards +Charnock; but he did not, and it was not fear of Charnock which +restrained him. + +"I go back to the regiment, Mrs. Warriner," he said, "the regiment of +the soldiers of fortune. I have had my furlough--four months' +furlough. I cannot complain." He endeavoured to speak gaily and to bow +with grace. + +"Good-bye," said Charnock. + +Miranda was implacably silent. + +"And they call women the softer sex," said the Major. + +"One moment," exclaimed Miranda, taking no notice of his remark. "Mr. +Wilbraham has a letter from my husband about the Daventry gun." + +"It is mine," answered the Major; "it was written to me." + +"I will buy it," said Charnock. + +"For a thousand--?" + +"No; for permission to answer this prepaid telegram to Scotland Yard." + +"In your name?" + +"In my name." + +"You're not a bad fellow, Charnock," said the Major as he drew out his +pocket-book. He handed the letter to Charnock, looked at him +curiously, and then laughed softly, without malice. + + + "O lover of my life! O soldier-saint!" + + +he quoted. "A great poet, what? Do you know Ralph Warriner? Will you +play Caponsacchi to his Guido? You might; very likely you will." The +Major took the reply form and turned away. + +"It is not always a profitable habit, it seems," said Miranda, "that +habit of following." + +"A little mean!" said the Major, gently. "Perhaps, too, a little +overdone," and as he went out of the patio Miranda flushed and felt +ashamed. Then the flush faded from her cheeks and left her white, for +she was alone with Charnock and had to make her account with him. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + EXPLAINS WHY CHARNOCK SAW MIRANDA'S FACE IN HIS MIRROR + + +Miranda rose nervously from her chair. She made an effort to speak, +which failed, and then yielding to a peremptory impulse she ran away. +It was only, however, into her parlour that she ran, and thither +Charnock followed her. She stood up rather quickly in the farthest +corner of the room as soon as he entered, drew a pattern with her foot +upon the floor, and tried to appear entirely at her ease. She did not +look at Charnock, however; on the contrary she kept her eyes upon the +ground, and felt very much like a school-girl who is going to be +punished. + +"Your husband is alive." Charnock's voice was cold and stern. Miranda +resented it all the more because she knew she deserved nothing less +than sternness. "Did you," he continued, "learn that from Wilbraham +for the first time this morning?" + +"No," she answered, and since she had found her voice, she added +rebelliously, "No, teacher," and was at once aware that levity was not +in the best of taste. Charnock perhaps was not at that moment in a +mood for jocularities. + +"How long have you known that your husband was alive?" he asked. + +"Five months," she answered. + +"Who told you?" + +"You." + +There was a moment's pause. Miranda's foot described more figures on +the floor, and with great assiduity. + +"I beg your pardon," said Charnock. "It is very humorous, no doubt, +but--" + +"It is true," interrupted Miranda. "If I had wished to evade you, to +deceive you, I should have answered that Mr. Wilbraham brought me the +news this morning." + +"I should have disbelieved it." + +"You could not at all events have disproved it. You would have had not +a single word to say." She raised her eyes now and confronted him +defiantly. + +"Yes," said Charnock, "I admit that," and a great change came over +Miranda. She stepped out of her corner. She raised her arms above her +head like one waking from sleep. "But I have had my fill of +deceptions. I am surfeited. Ask what you will, I'll answer you, and +answer you the truth. And for one thing, this is true: you told me +Ralph Warriner was alive, that night, at Lady Donnisthorpe's." + +"I told you? On the balcony?" + +"No, before. In the ball-room. You described him to me. You quoted his +phrases. You had seen him that very morning. He was the stranger you +quarrelled with in the streets of Plymouth." + +"And you knew him from my description!" cried Charnock. All the anger +had gone from his face, all the coldness from his voice. "I remember. +Your face grew so white in the shadow of the alcove I should have +believed you had swooned but for the living trouble in your eyes. Your +face became through its pallor and distress the face which I had seen +in my mirror. Oh, that mirror and its message!" He broke into a harsh +bitter laugh, and seating himself at the table, beat upon his forehead +with his clenched fists. "A message of appeal! A call for help! Was +there ever such a fool in all the world? Here's one woman out of all +the millions who needs my help, I was vain enough to think, and the +first thing, the only thing that I did, was to tell her that her +outcast bully of a husband was still alive to bully her. A fine way to +help! But I guessed correctly even that night. Yes, even on that night +I was afraid that I had revealed to you some misfortune of which you +were unaware. Oh, why wasn't I struck dumb before I spoke? But you +could not have been sure from my description," he cried eagerly, +grasping in his remorse at so poor a straw as that subterfuge. "For +men are not all unlike, and they use the same phrases. You could not +have been certain. You must have had some other proof before you were +convinced." + +"Yes, that is true." + +"And that other proof you got from someone else?" he said, and his +voice implored her to assent. + +Miranda only shook her head. "I promised to speak nothing but the +truth. I got that other proof from you." + +"No, no," he exclaimed. "Let me think! No, I told you nothing else but +just my meeting with the man, my quarrel with him." + +"Yes," said Miranda. "You told me how you woke up from dreaming of +Ralph, and saw my face in your mirror. Don't you see? There is the +convincing proof that the man you described to me, the man you +quarrelled with, the man you dreamed of, was Ralph, for when you woke +with that dream vivid in your mind, you saw my face vivid in your +mirror. You yourself were at a loss to account for it, you had never +so much as thought of me during the seven years since--since our eyes +met at Monte Carlo. You could not imagine why on that particular +night, after you had dreamed of someone else, unassociated with me, my +face should have come back to you. But it was no mystery to me. The +man you dreamed of was not unassociated with me; it was my husband, +and the husband recalled to you the wife, by an unconscious trick of +memory." + +"But I did not know he was your husband," cried Charnock. "I had never +seen him with you; I had never seen him at all before that day I +quarrelled with him in the streets of Plymouth." + +"You had," answered Miranda, gently. "He was with me that night at +Monte Carlo seven years ago. We were on our honeymoon," she added, +with a queer melancholy smile. + +Charnock remembered the look of happiness upon her young face, and +compared it with the tired woman's face which he saw now. "He was with +you!" he exclaimed. + +"Yes. You forgot us both. You met him again; you did not remember that +you had ever seen him, but none the less, the memory was latent in +you, and recalled me to you too. You could not trace the association, +but it was very clear to me." + +"Wait, wait!" said Charnock. He sat with his elbows on the table and +the palms of his hands tightly pressed upon his eyes. "I can see you, +as clearly as I saw you then at Monte Carlo, as though you were +standing there, now, in the room and I in the room was watching you. +You were a little apart from the table, you were standing a few feet +behind the croupier at one end of the table. But Ralph Warriner! Was +he amongst the players? Wait! Let me think!" + +Charnock remained silent. Miranda did not interrupt him, and in a +little he began again, piecing together his memories, revivifying that +scene in the gambling-room seven years ago. "I can see the lamps with +their green shades, I can see the glow of light upon the green table +beneath the lamps. I can see the red diamond, the yellow lines upon +the cloth, the three columns of numbers in the middle, the crowd about +the table, some seated, others leaning over their chairs. But their +faces! Their faces!" and then he suddenly cried out, "Ah! He was +seated, in front of you, next to the croupier. You were behind him," +and in his excitement he reached out his arm towards her, and with +shaking fingers bade her speak. + +"Yes," said she, "I was behind him." + +"You moved to him. I understand now. His back was towards me at the +first--when I first saw you, when our eyes met. It was that vision of +you, the first, which I carried away, it was that only which I +remembered--you standing alone there. It was that which came back to +me when I saw your face in my mirror, just the picture of you as you +stood alone, distinct from the flowers in your hat to the tip of your +shoe, before you moved to the table, before you laid your hand on +Ralph Warriner's shoulder, before he turned to answer you and so +showed me his face. I remember, indeed. I saw his hand first of all. +It was reached out holding his stake. I can even remember that he laid +his stake on _impare_ and then he turned to you. Yes, yes, it's true," +and Charnock rose from the table in his agitation, and walked once or +twice across the room. "It was Ralph Warriner I met at Plymouth, and +because of that trivial, ridiculous quarrel, I told you that he +lived!" + +He stopped suddenly in front of the writing-table, and stood staring +out through the window, while his fingers idly played with a newspaper +which lay upon the desk. + +"But Major Wilbraham," said Miranda, thinking to lessen his remorse, +"Major Wilbraham told me too, and only a month later; he came to me in +the Cathedral at Ronda here, and told me. He would have told me in any +case." + +"Wilbraham!" said Charnock. "Yes, that's true. How did he find out? +Who told Wilbraham?" and he turned eagerly towards Miranda. + +Miranda stammered and faltered. She had not foreseen the question, and +she tried to evade it. "He found out. He used his wits. He saw there +was profit in the discovery if he could--" + +"If he could make the discovery. I understand that; but how did he +make the discovery?" + +"Why, what does it matter?" cried Miranda. "He followed up a clue." + +Charnock noticed her hesitation, her effort to evade his question. +"But who gave him the clue?" + +Miranda moved restlessly about the room. "He set his wits to work--he +found out," she repeated. She sat down in the same chair in which +Charnock had sat. "What does it matter?" she said, and even as +Charnock had done, she pressed her hands upon her face. + +"You promised me to answer truly whatever question I put to you," said +he, who, the more she hesitated, was the more resolved to know. "I ask +you this question. Who gave him the clue?" + +"Since you will have it then,"--Miranda drew her hands from her +face,--"my poor friend, you did," she answered gently. + +Charnock was more than startled. His face changed. There was something +even of horror in his eyes as he leaned across the table towards her. +"I?" he gasped. "I did?" + +"I would have spared you the knowledge of that," she said with a +smile, "if only you would have allowed me to; but you would not. You +pointed out to him a brigantine, which you passed off Ushant." + +"Yes, the _Tarifa_." + +"The _Tarifa_ was once the _Ten Brothers_, Ralph's yacht which was +supposed to have been wrecked on Rosevear." + +"But the _Ten Brothers_ was a schooner," urged Charnock. "I was told +only a few weeks ago at Gibraltar--one of the Salcombe--oh yes, that's +true too. I suggested to Wilbraham--to Wilbraham who said he was +familiar with the look of the boat--I suggested to him that the +_Tarifa_ was one of the Salcombe clippers." + +"Yes. Wilbraham had known Ralph at Gibraltar, had seen the _Ten +Brothers_, very likely had been aboard of her. That was why the look +of the _Tarifa_ was familiar to him. When you told him the _Tarifa_ +was a Salcombe boat he understood why it was familiar. It was the +merest clue; but he followed it up and found out." + +"And blackmailed you!" continued Charnock. + +He turned back to the writing-table and the window. Again his fingers +played idly with the newspaper. For a while he was silent; then he +said slowly, "Do you remember what you said to me on the balcony? That +no man could offer a woman help without doing her a hurt in some other +way." + +"I spoke idly," interrupted Miranda. + +"You spoke very truly, for here's the proof." + +"I spoke to elude you," said Miranda, stubbornly. "It was a mere idle +fancy which came into my head, and the next moment was forgotten." + +"But I remembered it," cried Charnock. "It was more true than you +thought." + +"It was no more true than"--she hesitated. However, Charnock was not +looking at her; she found it possible to proceed--"than another belief +which led me astray, as this one is leading you." + +"What other belief?" + +Miranda nerved herself to answer him. "That no man would serve a woman +well, except for--for the one reason." + +The nature of that reason was apparent to Charnock from the very +tone in which she spoke the word. "And you believed that?" he asked. +In a movement of surprise he had knocked the newspaper off the +writing-table. Underneath the newspaper was a book. + +"I did believe it," she replied, her face rosy with confusion, "for a +few mad miserable days," and she checked herself suddenly, for she saw +that Charnock had absently opened and was absently turning over the +leaves of the book. + +"Was the message of your mirror after all so false?" she whispered. He +turned towards her, with a face quite illumined. He did not, however, +leave the table, and he kept the pages of the book open with his +fingers. + +"Then after all you do need help?" he cried. + +"Need it?" she returned with a loud cry, and she stretched out hands +across the table towards him. "Indeed, indeed I need it, I desperately +need it! I sent the glove because I needed it." + +"Then the glove was no sham?" + +"It was not the glove that you tore; that was thrown away, but not by +me. I searched for it, it was not to be found. So I tore the other and +sent it as a substitute." + +"And when I came, waited to discover," he added, "whether the one +reason held me to your service. I understand." + +"You see," she agreed, "really, in my heart, all the time I trusted +you, for I knew you would keep your word. I knew you would say +nothing, but would just wait and wait until I told you what it was I +needed done." + +Charnock turned abruptly towards her, and as he turned the book +slipped off the table and fell to the ground. "But yesterday," he +exclaimed in perplexity, "yesterday, here in this room, I gave you the +assurance which you looked for. You believed a man would only help you +for the one reason. Well, I told you that the one reason held with me; +yet, at that moment, you rejected all help and service. You cried out, +'It's the friend I want, not the lover.'" + +"Because just at that moment I understood that my belief was wrong. I +understood the shame, the horror, of the tricks I had played on you." + +"Tricks?" said Charnock. "Oh!" and as he stooped down to pick up the +book he added in a voice of comprehension, "At last! You puzzled me +yesterday when you said, 'To possess the friend you had had to _make_ +the lover.'" + +"Yes," she said eagerly, "you understand? I want you to. I want you to +understand to the last letter, so that you may decide whether you will +help me or not, knowing what the woman is who asks your help. I sat +down to trick you into caring for me if by any means I could. I did it +deliberately, how deliberately you will see if you only open the book +you hold. And it wasn't until I had won that I realised that I had +cheated to win and could not profit by the gains. I won yesterday and +yesterday I sent you away. Perhaps God kept you here." + +Charnock made no answer. He sat down at the table opposite to Miranda +and turned over the leaves of the book, whilst Miranda watched him, +holding her breath. He was not angry yet, but she dreaded the moment +when he should understand the subject-matter of the book. + +The book was a collection of letters written by a great French lady at +the Court of Louis XV. to a young girl-relative in Provence, and the +letters were intended to serve as a guide to the girl's provincial +inexperience. There was much sage instruction as to the best methods +of handling men, "ces animaux effroyables, dont nous ne pouvons ni ne +voudrons nous débarrasser," as the great lady politely termed them. In +the margin of the book Miranda's pencil had scored lines against +passages here and there. Charnock read out one:-- + +"Et prends bien garde de tellement diriger la conversation qu'il parle +beaucoup de lui-même." + +"That accounts for the history of my life which I gave you in your +garden," said Charnock. He was not angry yet; he was even smiling. + +"Yes," said Miranda, seriously; "but there's worse! Go on!" + +"Soyez sage, ma mie," he read, turning over a page. "On ne possede +jamais un de ces animaux sans qu'on peut bien disposer d'un autre. +Celui que tu aimes, t'aimera aussi si tu fais la cour a un deuxième. +Ils ont bien tort qui disent qu'il ne faut que deux pour faire +l'amour. Il faut au moins trois." + +"That accounts for Wilbraham, and the basket of flowers for +Gibraltar." + +"For Wilbraham, yes," said Miranda. + +Charnock did not notice that she excluded the basket of flowers from +her assent. He read out other items, still without any appearance of +anger. A foot carelessly exhibited and carefully withdrawn, the young +lady in the country was informed, might kick a hole in any male heart, +so long as the foot was slim, and the shoe all that it should be. +Charnock closed the book and sat opposite to Miranda with a laughing +face, enjoying her intense earnestness. + +"So you won by cheating?" he said, "and this book taught you how to +cheat?" + +"Yes, but I don't think you have grasped it," she replied seriously, +"and I want you to. I want you to understand the horrible, hateful way +in which I made you care for me. I now know that I ought to have +relied upon your friendship when you first came to Ronda. But I chose +the worse part, and if you say that you will not help me, why, I must +abide by it, and Ralph must abide by it too. But there shall be +nothing but truth now between you and me. I was not content with +friendship, I had the time I knew to try to make you care for me in +the other way, and I did try hatefully, and hatefully I succeeded--" +and to Miranda's surprise Charnock leaned back in his chair, and +laughed loudly and heartily for a long while. The more perplexed +Miranda looked, the more he laughed. + +"Believe me, Mrs. Warriner," he said, and stopped to laugh again, "if +I had met you for the first time at Ronda, I should have taken the +first train back to Algeciras. Your tricks! I noticed them all, and +they drove me wild with indignation." + +"Do you mean that?" exclaimed Miranda, and her downcast face +brightened. + +"I do indeed," answered Charnock. "Oh, your tricks! I almost hated you +for them." He began to laugh again as he recollected them. + +"I am so glad," replied Miranda, in the prettiest confusion, and as +Charnock laughed, in a little her eyes began to dance and she laughed +too. + +"Shall I tell you what kept me at Ronda?" he said. "Because, in spite +of yourself, every now and then yourself broke through the tricks. +Because, however much you tried, you could not but reveal to me, now +and then, some fleeting glimpse of the woman who once stood beside me +in a balcony and looked out over the flashing carriage-lights to the +quiet of St. James's Park. It was in memory of that woman that I +stayed." + +He was speaking with all seriousness now, and Miranda uttered a long +trembling sigh of gratitude. "Thank you," she said, "thank you." + +"Now what can I do for you?" he asked, and Miranda made haste to +reply. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + SHOWS HOW A TOMBSTONE MAY CONVINCE WHEN ARGUMENTS FAIL + + +She showed him the scribbled note which M. Fournier had brought; she +told him M. Fournier's story; how that Ralph had run guns and +ammunition from England into Morocco on board the _Tarifa_; how that +he had been kidnapped between M. Fournier's villa and the town-gate; +how that he was not held to ransom, since no demand for ransom had +come to the little Belgian; and finally how that it was impossible to +apply for help to the Legation, since Ralph was already guilty of a +crime, and would only be rescued that way in order to suffer penal +servitude in England. + +"What a coil to unravel!" said Charnock. "I know some Arabic. I could +go to Morocco. I went there once, but only to Tangier. But Morocco? +How shall one search Morocco without a clue?" + +He rested his chin upon his hand, and stared gloomily at the wall. +Miranda was careful not to interrupt his reflections. If there was a +way out, she confidently relied upon this man to find it. Once she +shivered, and Charnock looked inquiringly towards her. She was gazing +at the soiled note which lay beneath her eyes upon the table, and saw +again the picture of Ralph being beaten inland under the sun. She +began to recall his acts and words, that she might make the best of +them; she fell to considering whether she had not herself been in a +measure to blame for the shipwreck of their marriage. And so, thinking +of such matters, she absently hummed over a tune, a soft plaintive +little melody from an _opéra-bouffe_. She ended it and hummed it over +again; until it came upon her that Charnock had been silent for a long +time, and she looked up from the note into his face. + +He was not thinking out any plan. He was watching her with a singular +intentness, his head thrust forward from his shoulders, his face very +strained. It seemed that every fibre of his body listened and was +still, so that it might hear the better. + +"Who taught you that tune?" he asked in a voice of suspense. + +"Ralph," said she, in some surprise at the question; "at least I +picked it up from him." + +And Charnock fell back in his chair; he huddled himself in it, he let +his chin drop upon his breast. He sat staring at her with eyes which +seemed suddenly deep-sunk in a face suddenly grown white. And slowly, +gradually, it broke in upon Miranda that he held the clue after all, +that that tune was the clue, that in a word Charnock knew how Ralph +had disappeared. + +"You know!" she cried in her elation. "You know! Oh, and I sent you +away yesterday! What if you had gone! Only to think of it! You know! +That tune has given you the clue? It was Ralph's favourite! You heard +it--when? Where? Tell me!" + +To her eager, joyous questions Charnock was silent. He did not move. +He still sat huddled in his chair, with his chin fallen on his breast, +and his eyes fixedly staring at her. Miranda's enthusiasm was chilled +by his silence; it was succeeded by fear. She became frightened; she +picked up the note and held it out to him and bade it speak for her. + +Charnock did not take the note or change his position. But he said:-- + +"Even on your honeymoon, you see, he left you to stand alone, while he +gambled at the tables." + +"But you mustn't think of that," she cried. "It's so small a thing." + +"But so typical," added Charnock, quietly. + +Miranda gave a moan and held her head between her hands. That Charnock +might refuse to help her, because with tears in her eyes she had +played the sedulous coquette, she had been prepared to acknowledge. +But that he would refuse to help, out of a mistaken belief that, by +refusing to help, he was helping best--that supposition had not so +much as occurred to her. + +"Read the note again," she implored him. "_Do quickly what you can!_ +And see, it is a week and more since M. Fournier was here. It is a +fortnight and more since Ralph was kidnapped in the Sôk. Quickly! And +nothing is done, and nothing will be done, unless you do it. Oh, think +of him--driven, his hands tied, beaten with sticks, sold for a slave +to trudge with loads upon his back, barefooted, through Morocco! You +will go," and her voice broke and was very tender as she appealed to +him. "Please! You will have pity on me, and on him." And she watched +Charnock's face for a sign of assent, her heart throbbing, her foot +beating the ground, and every now and then a queer tremulous moan +breaking from her dry lips. + +Charnock, however, did not soften at the imagined picture of Ralph's +misfortunes, and he hardened his heart against the visible picture of +her distress. + +"When I was at Algeciras, I asked many questions about Ralph Warriner. +I listened to many answers," he said curtly. + +"Exaggerated answers," she returned, and as Charnock opened his mouth +to reply, she hastened to continue: "Listen! Listen! Here's the +strange thing! Not that I should need help, not that you should help +me, not that I should come to you for help. Those three things--they +are most natural. But that coming to you, I should come to the one man +who can help, who already knows the way to help. Don't you understand? +It is very clear to me. You were _meant_ to help, to help me in this +one trouble, so you were shown the means whereby to help." And seeing +Charnock still impenetrable, she burst out: "Oh, he will not help! He +will not understand!" and she took to considering how it was that he +knew, how it was that he recognised the tune. + +"You were in Tangier once," she argued. "Yes. You told me that not +only to-day, but at Lady Donnisthorpe's. You crossed from Gibraltar?" + +"Yes, just before I came to England and met you." + +"Just before! Still you won't understand? You find out +somehow--somehow in Tangier you come across a tune, an incident, +something. Immediately after you meet a woman, at the first sight of +whom you offer her your succour, and the time comes when she needs it, +and that one incident you witnessed just before you met her gives you, +and you alone in all the world, the opportunity to help her. Don't you +remember, when you first were introduced at Lady Donnisthorpe's, what +was your first feeling--one of disappointment, because I did not seem +to stand in any need? Well, I do stand in need now--and now you turn +away. And for my sake too! Was there ever such a tangle! Such a +needless irony and tangle, and all because a man cannot put a woman +from his thoughts!" And then she laughed bitterly and harshly, and so +fell back again upon her guesses. + +"You were in Tangier--how long?" + +"For a day." + +"When? Never mind! I know. I met you in June. You were in Tangier for +a day in May. In May!" she repeated, and stopped. Then she uttered a +cry. "May, that was the month. M. Fournier said May. You were the +man," and leaning forward she laid a clutching hand upon Charnock's +arm, which lay quiet on the table. "You were the unknown man who cried +'Look out!' through the closed door of M. Fournier's shop." + +Charnock started. He was prepared to deny the challenge, if assent +threatened to disclose his clue. But it did not. M. Fournier knew +nothing of the blind beggar at the cemetery gate where Charnock had +first heard the comic opera tune and registered it in his memory. That +was evident, since in all M. Fournier's story, there was no mention +anywhere of Hassan Akbar. + +"Yes," he admitted. "It was I." + +"And you shouted it not as a menace--so M. Fournier thought and was +wrong--but as a warning to Ralph, my husband, whom you will not speak +a word to save. You spoke a word then, very likely you saved him then. +Well, do just as much now. I ask no more of you. Only speak the word! +Tell me the clue, I myself will follow it up. Oh, he will not speak!" +and in her agitation she rose up and paced the room. + +Charnock rose too. Miranda flew to the door and leaned her back +against it. + +"Just for a moment! Listen to what M. Fournier said! He said that if +once we could lay our hands upon the man who shouted through the door, +we should lay our hands upon the means to rescue Ralph. Think how +truly he spoke, in a truer sense than he intended. You know why he +disappeared. You know who captured him. And if you don't speak, I +shall have no peace until I die," and she sat herself again at the +table. + +"Do you still care for him?" asked Charnock, with some gentleness. + +Miranda, who was wrought almost to frenzy, drummed upon the table with +her clenched fists. + +"Must we debate that question while Ralph--" Then she mastered +herself. "I know you," she said. "If I were to tell you that I loved +him heart and soul, you would go upon this errand, straight as an +arrow, for my sake. But I promised there should be nothing but truth +between you and me. I do not love him. Now, will you go to Morocco? +Or, if you will not go, will you speak?" + +"No. Let him stay there! Where he cannot harm you. What if I was +_meant_ to keep you from rescuing him?" + +"You do not know," she replied. "You can do me no greater service than +by rescuing Ralph, by bringing him back to me. Will you believe that?" + +"No," said he, calmly, and she rose from her chair. + +"But if I proved it to you?" + +"You cannot." + +"I will." + +She looked at the clock. + +"It is four o'clock," she said. "Two hours and a quarter before the +train leaves for Algeciras. Will you meet me on the platform? I had +thought to spare myself--this. But you shall have the proof. I will +not tell you of it, but I will show it to you to-morrow at Gibraltar." + +She spoke now with great calmness. She had hit upon the means to +persuade. She was convinced that she had, and he was afraid that she +had. + +"Very well," said he. "The 6.15 for Algeciras." + +They travelled to Gibraltar that night. Miranda stayed at the Bristol, +Charnock at the Albion; they met the next morning, and walked through +the long main street. Here and there an officer looked at her with a +start of surprise and respectfully raised his hat, and perhaps took a +step or two towards her. But she did not stop to speak with anyone. It +was two years since she had set foot within the gates of Gibraltar, +and no doubt the stones upon which she walked had many memories +wherewith to bruise her. Charnock respected her silence, and kept pace +with her unobtrusively. They passed into the square with Government +House upon the one side and the mess-rooms upon the other. Charnock +sketched a picture of her in his fancies, the picture of a young girl +newly-come from the brown solitudes of Suffolk into this crowded and +picturesque fortress with the wonder of a new world in her eyes, and +contrasted it with the woman who walked beside him, and inferred the +increasing misery of her years. He was touched to greater depths of +sympathy than he had ever felt before even when she had lain with her +head upon her arms in an abandonment of distress; so that now the +uncomplaining uprightness of her figure made his heart ache, and the +sound of her footsteps was a pain. But of the most intolerable of all +her memories he had still to learn. She led him into the little +cemetery, guided him between the graves, and stopped before a +headstone on which Charnock read:-- + + + RUPERT WARRINER, + Aged 2 Years. + + +and the date of his birth and death. + +The headstone was of marble, and had been sculptured with a poetic +fancy; a boy, in whose face Charnock could trace a likeness to +Miranda, looked out and laughed between the open lattices of a window. + +They both watched the grave silently for a while. Then Miranda said +gently, "Now do you understand? When Rupert was born, it seemed to me +that here was a blossom on the thorn bush of the world. But you see +the blossom never flowered. He died of diphtheria. It was hard when he +died;" and Charnock suddenly started at her side. + +"Those flowers!" he said hoarsely. + +Upon the grave were scattered jonquils, geraniums, roses, pinks, +camellias--all the rich reds and yellows of Miranda's garden. + +"You were cutting them, packing them, that afternoon when Wilbraham +came?" + +Mrs. Warriner shrank from looking at Charnock. + +"Yes," she confessed in a whisper. + +"My God!" he exclaimed. Miranda glanced at him in fear. So it was +coming; he was remembering the use to which she had put those flowers. +Would he loathe her sufficiently to withdraw his help? + +"Do you know what I thought?" he continued. "No, you can't guess. You +could not imagine it. I actually believed that you were cutting those +flowers so that you might send them to--" and he broke off the +sentence. "But it's too odious to tell you." + +"But I meant you should believe just that," she cried. "I meant you to +believe it. Oh, how utterly hateful! How could I have done it? I +wanted to hide that from you, but it was right you should know. I must +have been mad," and she convulsively clasped and unclasped her hands. + +"I understand why you dropped that bunch from the cliff," said +Charnock, "after Wilbraham had picked a flower from it." + +"I wanted to bring you here," said Miranda, "so that you might know +why I ask this service of you. As I told you, I have no love left for +Ralph, but he was that boy's father, and the boy is dead. I cannot +leave Ralph in Morocco a slave. He was Rupert's father. Perhaps you +remember that after I met you at Lady Donnisthorpe's I came back at +once to Ronda. I had half determined not to return at all, and when +you first told me Ralph was alive, my first absorbing thought was, +where should I hide myself? But it occurred to me that he might be in +need, and he was Rupert's father. So I came back, and when Wilbraham +blackmailed me, I submitted to the blackmail again because he was +Rupert's father; and because he was Rupert's father, when I learned in +what sore need he stood, I sent that glove to you." + +"I understand," said Charnock, and they turned and walked from the +cemetery. + +"Now will you speak?" she asked. + +"No," he returned, "but I will go myself to Morocco." + +"It is your life I am asking you to risk," said Miranda, who now that +she had gained her end, began at once to realise the consequences it +would entail upon her friend. + +"I know that and take the risk," replied Charnock. + +They walked out towards Europa Point, and turned into the Alameda. + +"There is something else," said Miranda. "Your search will cost money. +Every farthing of that I must pay. You will promise me that?" + +"Yes." + +"I wrote to M. Fournier yesterday. He will supply you. There is one +thing more. This search will interrupt your career." + +"It will, no doubt," he assented readily, and sitting down upon a seat +he spoke to her words which she never forgot. "The quaint thing is +that I have always been afraid lest a woman should break my career. I +lived as a boy high up on the Yorkshire hills, two miles above a busy +town. All day that town whirred in the hollow below. I could see it +from my bedroom window, and all night the lights blazed in the +factories; and when I went down into its streets there were always +grimed men speeding upon their business. There was a certain grandeur +about it which impressed me,--the perpetual shuffle of the looms, the +loud, clear song of the wheels. That seemed to me the life to live. +And I made up my mind that no woman should interfere. A brake on the +wheel going up hill, a whip in the driver's hand going down,--that +was what I thought of woman until I met you." + +"And proved it true," cried Miranda. + +"And learned that there are better things than getting on," said +Charnock. + +Miranda turned to him with shining eyes, and in a voice which left him +in no doubt as to the significance of her words, she cried:-- + +"My dear, we are Love's derelicts, you and I," and so stopped and said +no more. + +They went back to the hotel and lunched together and came out again to +the geraniums and bellas sombras of the Alameda. But they talked no +more in this strain. They were just a man and a woman, and the flaming +sword kept their lips apart. But they knew it and were not aggrieved, +for being a man and a woman they knew not grievances. + +The evening came down upon Gibraltar, the riding lanterns glimmered +upon the masts in the bay; away to the left the lighthouse on Europa +Point shot out its yellow column of light; above, the Spanish sky grew +purple and rich with innumerable stars. + +"The boat leaves early," said Charnock. "I will say good-bye now." + +Miranda caught the hand which he held out to her and held it against +her breast. + +"But I shall see you again--once--please, once," she said, "when you +bring Ralph back to me;" and so they separated in the Alameda. + +Charnock walked away and left her standing there, nor looked back. +Stray lines and verses of ballads which he had heard sung by women in +drawing-rooms here and there about the world came back to him--ballads +of knights and cavaliers who had ridden away at their ladies' behests. +He had laughed at them then, but they came back to him now, and he +felt himself linked through them in a community of feeling with the +generations which had gone before. Men had gone out upon such errands +as he was now privileged to do, and would do so again when he was +dust, with just the same pride which he felt as he walked homewards on +this night through the streets of Gibraltar. He realised as he had +never realised before, through the fellowship of service, that in bone +and muscle and blood he was of the family of men, son of the men who +had gone before, father of the men who were to follow. The next +morning he crossed the straits to Tangier. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + IN WHICH THE TAXIDERMIST AND A BASHA + PREVAIL OVER A BLIND MAN + + +He went at once to the taxidermist's shop. M. Fournier expected him, +but not the story which he had to tell. + +"You wish to discover the man who shouted through your door six months +ago," said Charnock. "It was I." + +M. Fournier got together his account-books and laid them on the +counter of the shop. "I have much money. Where is my friend Mr. Jeremy +Bentham?" + +"It is Hassan Akbar whom we must ask," said Charnock, and he told +Fournier of what he had seen on the day of his previous visit to +Tangier. + +The two men walked up to the cemetery gate, where Hassan still sat in +the dust, and swung his body to and fro and reiterated his cry "Allah +Ben!" as on that day when, clothed as a Moor, Ralph Warriner had come +down the hill. It was the tune which that Moor had hummed, and which +Miranda had repeated, that had led Charnock to identify the victim and +the enemy. + +Charnock hummed over that tune again as he stood beside the Moor, and +the Moor stopped at once from his prayer. + +"Hassan Akbar, what hast them done with the Christian who hummed that +tune and dropped a silver dollar in thy lap at this gate?" + +Hassan made no answer, and as though his sole anxiety had been lest +Warriner should have escaped and returned, he recommenced his cry. + +"Hassan," continued Charnock, "was it that Christian who betrayed thy +wealth? Give him back to us and thou shalt be rich again." + +"Allah Beh!" cried Hassan. "Allah Beh!" + +"It is of no use for us to question him," said M. Fournier. "But the +Basha will ask him, and in time he will answer. To-morrow I will go to +the Basha." + +Charnock hardly gathered the purport of Fournier's proposal. He went +back into the town, and that evening M. Fournier related to him much +about Ralph Warriner which he did not know. + +The idea of running guns in Morocco had appealed to Warriner some time +before he put it into practice, and whilst he was still at Gibraltar. + +"I did not know him then," said Fournier. "He had relations with +others, very likely with Hassan Akbar, but nothing came of those +relations. When he ran from Gibraltar in the _Ten Brothers_, he landed +at Tangier, and lay hid somewhere in the town, while he sent the _Ten +Brothers_ over to South America and ordered the mate to sell her for +as much as she would fetch. But in a little while Ralph Warriner met +me and asked me to be his partner in his scheme. He had a little money +then, and indeed it was just about the time when Hassan's fortune was +discovered. It is very likely that our friend told the Basha of +Hassan's wealth. If he knew, he would certainly have told," said M. +Fournier, with a lenient smile, "for there was money in it. Anyway, he +had some money then, I had some, I could get more, and I like him very +much. I say yes. He tells me of his ship. We want a ship to carry over +the guns. I telegraph to the Argentine and stop the sale. Warriner +sent orders to change her rig, as he call it, and her name, and she +comes back to us as the _Tarifa_. The only trouble left was this. The +most profitable guns to introduce are the Winchester rifles. But for +that purpose one of us must go between England and Tangier, must sail +the _Tarifa_ between England and Tangier. I could not sail a toy-boat +in a pond without falling into the water. How then could I sail the +_Tarifa?_ So Warriner must do it. But Warriner, my poor dear friend, +he has made little errors. He must not go to England, not even as +Bentham. To make it safe for Jeremy Bentham to go to England, Ralph +Warriner must be dead. You see?" + +"Yes, I see. But why in the world did he call himself Jeremy Bentham?" +asked Charnock. + +"Because he was such an economist. Oh, but he was very witty and +clever, my poor friend, when he was not swearing at you. At all events +he decided that Ralph Warriner must die, and that there must be proofs +that he was dead. So he packed up a few letters--one from his wife +before he was married to her--that was clever, _hein?_ A love-letter +from his _fiancée_ which he has carried about next to his heart for +six years! So sweet! So convincing to the great British public, eh? He +found that letter by chance among his charts. He gives it to me and +some others in an oilskin case, and sends me with one of his sailors +to the Scilly Islands. And then Providence helped us. + +"All that we hoped to do was to hear of a wreck, in which many lives +were lost, to go out amongst the rocks, where the ship was wrecked, +and to pick up that little oilskin case. You understand? Oh, but we +were helped. There was a heavy storm for many days at Scilly, and +after the storm for many days a fog. On one day the sailor and I--we +go out in the fog to the Western Islands, to see if any ship had come +ashore. But it was dangerous! I can tell you it was very dangerous and +very wet. However, we come to Rosevear, and there was the remnant of a +ship, and no sailor anywhere. We landed on Rosevear, and just as I was +about to place the oilskin case among the rocks where it would be +naturally found, we came upon one dead sailor, lying near to the sea +just as if asleep. I slipped the oilskin case into his pocket, and +then with stones we broke in his face. Ah, but that was horrible! It +made me sick then and there. But we did it, until there was no face +left. Then for fear the waves might come up and wash him away, we +dragged him up the rocks and laid him amongst the grass, again as +though he was asleep. We made a little mistake there. We dragged him +too far from the sea. But the mistake did not matter." + +"I see," said Charnock. "And that day I shouted through the door +Warriner sailed for England?" + +"Yes," replied Fournier. "I hired that morning a felucca to sail +himself across to Tarifa." + +"I remember." + +"The boat lay at Tarifa. He set sail that night." + +"Yes," said Charnock. "I spent the night here. I waited two days for +the P. and O. at Gibraltar, we passed the _Tarifa_ off Ushant, and +three days later I met Warriner in Plymouth. Yes, the times fit." + +"It is very likely Ralph who told about Hassan," mused M. Fournier, +with a lenient smile. "If he knew, he would have been sure to have +told; for there was money in it. To-morrow I will see the Basha." + +M. Fournier went down to the Kasbah and found the Basha delivering +justice at the gates. The suitors were dismissed, and M. Fournier +opened his business. + +"We do not wish to trouble the Legation," said he. "The Legation would +make much noise, and his Shereefian Majesty, whom God preserve, would +never hear the end of it. Besides, we do not wish it." And upon that +money changed hands. "But if the Englishman told your nobility that +Hassan Akbar was hoarding his money in utter selfishness, then your +nobility will talk privately with Hassan and find out from him where +the Englishman is." + +The Basha stroked his white beard. + +"The Nazarene speaks wisely. We will not disturb the dignity of his +Majesty, whom Allah preserve, for such small things. I will talk to +Hassan Akbar and send for you again." + +That impenetrable man was fetched from the cemetery gates, and the +Basha addressed him. + +"Hassan, thou didst hide and conceal thy treasure, and truly the Room +told me of it; and since thy treasure was of no profit to thee, I took +it." + +"When I was blind and helpless," said Hassan. + +"So thou wast chastened the more thoroughly for thy profit in the next +world, and thy master and my master, the Sultan, was served in this," +said the Basha, with great dignity, and he reverently bowed his head +to the dust. "Now what hast thou done with the Room?" + +But Hassan answered never a word. + +"Thou stubborn man! May Allah burn thy great-great-grandfather!" said +the Basha, and chained his hands and his feet, and had him conveyed to +an inner room, where he talked to him with rods of various length and +thickness. At the end of the third day the Basha sent a message to M. +Fournier that Hassan's heart was softened by the goodness of God, and +that now he would speak. + +The Basha received Charnock and M. Fournier in a great cool domed room +of lattice-work and tiles. He sat upon cushions on a dais at the end +of the room; stools were brought forward for his visitors; and M. +Fournier and the Basha exchanged lofty compliments, and drank much +weak sweet tea. Then the Basha raised his hand; a door was thrown +open; and a blind, wavering, broken man crawled, dragging his fetters, +across the floor. + +"Good God!" whispered Charnock; "what have they done to him?" + +"They have made him speak, that is all," returned M. Fournier, +imperturbably. He kept all his pity for Ralph Warriner. + +M. Fournier translated afterwards to Charnock the story which Hassan +told as he grovelled on the ground, and it ran as follows:-- + +"When the son of the English first came into Morocco I showed him +great kindness and hospitality, and how he returned it you know. So +after I was blind I waited. More than once I heard his voice in the +Sôk, and in the streets of Tangier, and I knew that he had quarrelled +with his own people the Nazarenes, and dared not turn to them for +help. I sit by the gate of the cemetery, and many Arabs, and Moors, +and Negroes, and Jews come down the road from the country to the +market-place, and at last one morning I heard the steps of one whose +feet shuffled in his _babouches_; he could not walk in the loose +slippers as we who are born to the use of them. And it was not an old +man, whose feet are clogged by age, for his stride was long; that my +ears told me which are my eyes. It was an infidel in the dress of the +faithful. It may be that if I had seen with my eyes, I should never +have known; but my ears are sharpened, and I heard. When he passed me +he gave me greeting, and then I knew it was the Room. He dropped a +dollar into my hands and whistled a tune which he had often whistled +after he had eaten of my _kouss-kouss_, and so went on his way. I rose +up and followed him, thinking that my time had come. Across the Sôk I +followed him, hearing always the shuffle of the slippers amidst the +din of voices and the hurrying of many feet. He did not see me, for he +never turned or stopped, but went straight on under the gate of the +town, and then turned through the horse-market, and came to a house +which he entered. I heard the door barred behind him, and a shutter +fixed across the window, and I sat down beneath the shutter and +waited. I heard voices talking quickly and earnestly within the room, +and then someone rose and came out of the door and walked down the +street towards the port. But it was not the man for whom I waited. +This one walked with little jaunty, tripping steps, and I was glad +that he went away; for the bolt of the door was not shut behind him, +and the dog of a Nazarene was alone. I rose and walked to the door. A +son of the English stood in the way: I asked him for alms with the one +hand and felt for the latch with the other; but the son of the English +saw what I was doing and shouted through the door." + +"It was I," said Charnock. + +Hassan turned his sightless face towards Charnock and reflected. Then +he answered: "It was indeed you. And after you had spoken the bolt was +shot. Thereupon I went back to the Sôk, and asking here and there at +last fell in with some Arabs from Beni Hassan with whom in other days +I had traded. And for a long while I talked to them, showing that +there was no danger, for the Room was without friends amongst his own +people, and moreover that he would fetch a price, every okesa of which +was theirs. And at the last they agreed with me that I should deliver +him to them at night outside the walls of Tangier and they would take +him away and treat him ill, and sell him for a slave in their own +country. But the Room had gone from Tangier and the Arabs moved to +Tetuan and Omara and Sôk-et-Trun, but after a while they returned to +Tangier and the Room also returned; and the time I had waited for had +come." + +"What have you done with him?" said the Basha. "Speak." + +"I besought a lad who had been my servant to watch the Room Bentham, +and his goings and comings. With the dollar which he had given me I +bought a little old tent of palmetto and set it up in the corner of +the Sôk apart from the tents of the cobblers." + +"Well?" interrupted M. Fournier, "speak quickly." + +"One evening the lad came to me and said the Room had gone up to a +house on the hill above the Sôk, where there were many lights and much +noise of feasting. So I went down the Sôk to where the Arabs slept by +their camels and said to them, 'It will be to-night.' And as God +willed it the night was dark. The lad led me to the house and I sat +outside it till the noise grew less and many went away. At last the +Nazarene Bentham came to the door and his mule was brought for him and +he mounted. I asked the boy who guided me, 'Is it he?' and the boy +answered 'Yes.' So I dismissed him and followed the mule down the hill +to the Sôk, which was very quiet. Then I ran after him and called, and +he stopped his mule till I came up with him. 'What is it?' he asked, +and I threw a cloth over his head and dragged him from the mule. We +both fell to the ground, but I had one arm about his neck pressing the +cloth to his mouth so that he could not cry out. I pressed him into +the mud of the Sôk and put my knee upon his chest and bound his arms +together. Then I carried him to my tent and took the cloth from his +head, for I wished to hear him speak and be sure that it was Bentham. +But he understood my wish and would not speak. So I took his +mule-hobbles which I had stolen while he feasted, and made them hot in +a fire and tied them about his ankles and in a little while I made him +cry out and I was sure. Then I stripped him of his clothes and put +upon him my own rags. The Arabs came to the tent an hour later. I +gagged Bentham and gave him up to them bound, and in the dark they +took him away, with the mule. His clothes I buried in the ground under +my tent, and in the morning stamped the ground down and took the tent +away." + +"And the chief of these Arabs? Give me his name," said the Basha. + +"Mallam Juzeed," replied Hassan. + +The Basha waved his hand to the soldiers and Hassan was dragged away. + +"I will send a soldier with you, give you a letter to the Sheikh of +Beni Hassan, and he will discover the Room, if he is to be found in +those parts," said the Basha to M. Fournier. + +Charnock spent the greater part of a month in formalities. He took the +letter from the Basha and many other letters to Jews of importance in +the towns with which M. Fournier was able to provide him; he hired the +boy Hamet who had acted as his guide on his first visit, and getting +together an equipment as for a long journey in Morocco, rode out over +the Hill of the Two Seas into the inlands of that mysterious and +enchanted country. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + TELLS OF CHARNOCK'S WANDERINGS IN MOROCCO + AND OF A WALNUT-WOOD DOOR + + +In the course of time Charnock came to a village of huts enclosed +within an impenetrable rampart of cactus upon the flank of the hills +southward of Mequinez and there met the Sheikh. The Sheikh laid his +hands upon Mallam Juzeed and bade him speak, which he did with a wise +promptitude. It was true; they had taken the Christian from Tangier, +but they had sold him on the way. They had chanced to arrive at the +great houseless and treeless plain of Seguedla, a day's march from +Alkasar, on a Wednesday; and since every Wednesday an open market is +held upon two or three low hills which jut out from the plain, they +had sold Ralph Warriner there to a travelling merchant of the Mtoga. +Mallam supplied the merchant's name and the direction of his journey. +Charnock packed his tents upon his mules and disappeared into the +south. + +For two years he disappeared, or almost disappeared; almost, since +through the freemasonry of the Jews, that great telephone across +Barbary by which the Jew at Tangier shall hear the words which the Jew +speaks at Tafilet, M. Fournier was able to obtain now and again rare +news of Charnock, and, as it were, a rare glimpse of him at Saforo, at +Marakesch, at Tarudant, and to supply him with money. Then came a long +interval, until a Jew of the Waddoon stopped Fournier in the Sôk of +Tangier, handed him a letter, and told him that many months ago, as he +rode at nightfall down a desolate pass of the Upper Atlas mountains, +he came to an inhospitable wilderness of stones, where one in Moorish +dress and speaking the Moorish tongue was watching the antics of a +snake-charmer by the light of a scanty fire of brushwood. The Moor had +two servants with him but no escort, and no tent, and for safety's +sake the Jew stayed with him that night. In the morning the Moor had +given him the letter to M. Fournier and had bidden him say that he was +well. + +In that letter Charnock told in detail the history of his search. How +he had held to his clue, how he had missed it and retraced his steps, +how he had followed the merchant to Figuig on the borders of Algeria, +and back; how he had gone south into the country of Sus and was now +returning northwards to Mequinez. He had discarded the escort, because +if a protection to himself, it was a warning to the Arabs with whom he +fell in. They grew wary and shut their lips, distrusting him, +distrusting his business; and since he could speak Arabic before, he +had picked up sufficient of the Moghrebbin dialect, what with his dark +face and Hamet to come to his aid, to pass muster as a native. M. +Fournier sent the letter on to Mrs. Warriner at Ronda, who read it and +re-read it and blamed her selfishness in sending any man upon such an +errand, and wondered why she of all women in the world should have +found a man ready to do her this service. Many a time as she looked +from her window over the valley she speculated what his thoughts were +as he camped in the night-air on the plains and among the passes. Did +his thoughts turn to Ronda? Did he see her there obtruding a figure of +a monstrous impertinence and vanity? For she had asked of him what no +woman had a right to ask. + +His frank confession of how he had defined women came back to her with +a pitiless conviction; "A brake on the wheel going up hill, a whip in +the driver's hand going down." It was true! It was true! She was the +instance which proved it true. There were unhappy months for Miranda +of the balcony. + +At times Jane Holt would be wakened from her sleep by a great cry, and +getting from her bed she would walk round the landing half-way up the +patio, to Miranda's bedroom, only to find it empty. She would descend +the staircase, and coming into the little parlour, would discover +Miranda leaning out of the open window and looking down to a certain +angle of the winding road. + +She had dreamed, she had seen in her dream Charnock with his two +servants encamped upon a hill-side or on a plain, and hooded figures +in long robes crawling, creeping, towards them, crouching behind +boulders, or writhing their bodies across fields of flowers. She saw +him too in the narrow, dim alleys of ruined towns, lured through a +doorway behind impenetrable walls, and then robbed for his money and +tortured for his creed. + +At such times the sight of that road whence he had looked upwards to +her window was a consolation, almost a confutation of her dreams. +There at that visible corner of the road, underneath these same stars +and the same purple sky, Charnock had sat and gazed at this window +from which she leaned. He could not be dead! And carried away by a +feverish revulsion, she would at times come to fancy that he had +returned, that he was even now seated on the bank by the roadside, +that but for the gloom she would surely distinguish him, that in spite +of the gloom she could faintly distinguish him. And so her cousin +would speak to her, and with some commonplace excuse that the night +was hot, Miranda would get her back to her room. + +These were terrible months for Miranda of the balcony. And the months +lengthened, and again no news came. Miranda began to wonder whether +she had only sent Charnock out to meet Ralph's disaster, to become a +slave beaten and whipped and shackled, and driven this way and that +through the barbarous inlands. + +The months were piled one upon the other. The weight of their burden +could be measured by the changes in Miranda's bearing. Her cheeks grew +thin, her manner feverish. The mere slamming of a door would fling the +blood into her face like scarlet; an unexpected entrance set her heart +racing till it stifled her. + + + * * * * * + + +Meanwhile Charnock had long ceased to be troubled by the interruption +of his career. He moved now across wide prairies of iris and asphodel +under a blazing African sun, with perhaps a single palm tree standing +naked somewhere within view, or a cluster of dwarf olives; he halted +now for the night under a sinister sky on a dark plain, which +stretched to the horizon level as the sea; he would skirt a hill and +come unawares upon some white town of vast, gaunt, crumbling walls, +that ran out for no reason into the surrounding country, and for no +reason stopped. He passed beneath their ruined crenellations, under +the great gateways into the tortuous and dark streets where men +noiseless and sombre went their shrouded way. There were nights too +when he sat with a Mouser pistol in his hand, searching the darkness +until the dawn. + +The continent he had left behind seemed very far away; the echo of its +clamours diminished; the hurry of its conflicts became unreasonable +and strange. He was in a country where the moss upon the palace roofs +was itself of an immemorial antiquity; where neither the face of the +country nor the ways of those who lived on it had changed. He had +waited as he turned his back upon a town in the violet sunset, to see +the white flags break out upon the tops of the minarets, and the +Mueddins appear. He had waited for their cry, "Allah Akbar!" and for +the great plaintive moan of prayer which rose to answer it from the +terraces, the bazaars, from every corner of the town, and which +trembled away with infinite melancholy over infinite plains, "Allah +Akbar! Allah Akbar!" + +From those very minarets, during long successive centuries, a Mueddin +at just that hour had uttered just that cry; so that the Mueddin +became nothing, but the cry echoed down the years. And just that same +answer had risen and trembled out in just the same plaintive +mournfulness, so that those who prayed became of no account, and the +prayer repeated by the generations, the one thing which lived. + +Charnock used to halt upon his road, turn his face backwards to the +town, and picture to himself that from East to West the whole +continent of Africa was murmurous with that one prayer, that the +Atlantic carried away the sound of it upon its receding waves, and +that the Nile floated it down from village to village through the +Soudan. He ceased to wonder at the indifference, the passivity, the +fatalism, of these mysterious men amongst whom he lived; for he felt +something of that fatalism invading himself. + +He continued his search, northwards from the Atlas, escaping here a +band of robbers, there struggling in the whirl of a swollen stream, +listening at night to the cries of the jackals, and yielding to the +witchery of a monotonous Arab flute into which one servant blew a few +yards away, while Hamet, in a high strident voice, chanted a no less +monotonous song. He continued his search almost because "it was +written." + +Until on a dull afternoon he came to Mequinez, with its palaces of +dead kings, which rise up one behind the other, draped in golden +lichens, vast roofs stretching away into the distance, green and grey +with the whipping of rains, tower overtopping tower, crumbling +crenellations of wall, silent, oppressive. Each palace shut and barred +after its master was dead, and left so, to frown into decay and make a +habitation for the storks. + +To this city Charnock tracked the merchant, and taking up his abode in +the Mellah with a Jew to whom M. Fournier had recommended him, he +walked out through the streets beneath the walls of the palaces, +neither inquiring for the merchant nor scanning the faces of the +passers-by, but wrapped in his burnous, careless of any cry, +impenetrable, unobservant, until he came out of the darkness of a +bazaar, and saw, right before his eyes, a door. + +The door was set in a wall perhaps sixty feet high. Charnock could not +see the top for the narrowness of the street. Blank, and menacing in +the sinister light, the wall towered up before his eyes, and reached +out to the right and to the left. And at the foot of the wall was the +door--a door of walnut wood, studded with copper nails, and the nails +were intricately ordered in a geometrical figure, impossible for the +eye to unravel. + +That Charnock already knew; he had made trial before now to unravel +those geometrical figures, once, very long ago, and very far away in +the white sunlit street of a Spanish town. Charnock stood and stared +at the door, and the Spanish town loomed larger before his vision, +drew nearer, moved towards him, first slowly, then quickly, then in a +rush. Ronda! Ronda! The town, as it were, swept over him. He seemed to +wake; he seemed to stand again in the street. To his right was the +chasm of the Tajo, and the bridge, and the boiling torrent; behind +that door lived--and these two years slipped from him like a cloak. +With an unconscious movement of his hands he pushed the hood back from +his forehead, and stood bare-headed and alert. He was again one of the +hurrying, strenuous, curious folk who live beyond the Straits. + +He gazed at the door. Behind that door's fellow Miranda lived and +waited. Even as the thought burned through his mind, the door opened. +For a moment Charnock imagined that Miranda herself would step out; +but only a Moor came forth from an interview with the Basha, and a +ragged, decrepit greybeard of a servant attended on the Moor and made +his path. Charnock was in an instant aware of a grey light filtering +between the squalid roof-tops, of the filth of the streets, of the +tottering walls of Mulai Ismail. He was in Mequinez. + +And at Mequinez the long two years should end, and in ending bear +their fruit. That door, on which his eyes were set, augured as much, +nay promised it. "Not a sparrow shall fall...." Just for this reason, +centuries ago, a Moorish conqueror had taken these slabs of walnut +wood in Spain, and brought them back upon the shoulders of his slaves +and made his door from them and set it in his wall at Mequinez; just +that Charnock coming to this spot centuries afterwards might be +quickened in his service towards a woman, and gird himself about with +the memory of things which were growing dim, and be assured the +service should not fail! Charnock was uplifted to believe it. + +He drew the hood again about his head, and the voice of the Mueddin +called the world to prayer. Through the open doors of the mosques, +from the white walls glimmering in the dimness within those doors, +from the streets, from the houses, the high-pitched tremulous prayer +rose and declined in an arc of sound. + +Charnock felt his whole being throb exultantly. At Mequinez, yes, and +to-night, his search would end. Surely to-night! For the hour after +the evening prayer was the hour for the selling of slaves. + +Charnock walked to the market and sat himself down in the first +dim corner. He did not choose a place prominent and visible, +inviting whosoever had wares to sell; he took the first seat which +offered--certain that wherever he sat Ralph Warriner would be brought +to him. He sat down and looked about him. + +Some half a dozen men were grouped about the market talking; a young +negress from the Soudan, a white Moorish girl, a young negro from +Timbuctoo, were brought to them in turn. They examined their teeth, +their arms, their feet. The Moorish girl was bought; the others passed +on, each with the owner. They were followed by the Moor whom Charnock +had seen step from the Basha's door. He wished to sell his decrepit +greybeard, and was met with laughter wheresoever he turned. These were +all the slaves in the market. + +Charnock did not lose heart. At any moment within the next few minutes +the narrow entrance to the market might darken, and Ralph Warriner's +owner thrust Ralph Warriner in--at some moment that would happen. + +Did Warriner still shuffle in the Moorish slippers as he walked? +Charnock found himself asking the question with a curious +light-heartedness. The negress was offered to him, and then the negro; +he refused them with a gesture. He lent an ear to the rustling +whispering traffic of the streets outside. He listened patiently, +confidently, for the sound of a shuffling footstep to emerge, and grow +distinct and more distinct. The Moor brought his greybeard to +Charnock's corner. Charnock held his head aside and listened for the +loose slap-slap of the slipper upon the mud. The Moor spoke, was +importunate; Charnock waved him aside impatiently. + +But as he waved his arm he turned his head; and then he suddenly +reached out a hand, while his heart leaped in his throat. "Ten +dollars," he said. The Moor began to expatiate on the merits of his +slave; he was still strong; he could carry heavy loads, and for far +distances. Charnock was impatient to interrupt, to pay the price. When +he had turned his head, suddenly, for an instant, he had looked +straight into the greybeard's eyes--and they were the blue eyes which +had stared into his--once, how many centuries ago?--through the window +of a hansom cab in a noisy street of Plymouth. Charnock had no doubt. +Other Moors had blue eyes, and in no other feature of this wizened, +haggard creature but his eyes could he trace a resemblance to Ralph +Warriner; but he had no doubt. All the intuitions of the last +half-hour came to his aid. He remembered the door, the call to prayer. +This was Ralph Warriner, and he had almost let him pass! Had he not +turned by mere accident just at the one moment when the greybeard's +eyes were raised, he would have lost his chance now and forever. +Warriner would have perished in his servitude, would have dropped +somewhere on the plain under a load too heavy, and lain there until +nightfall brought the jackals. + +The thought took Charnock at the throat, left him struggling for his +breath. So near had he been to failing when he must not fail! He began +to fear at once that another purchaser might step in, while the Moor +was still exaggerating his goods. Yet he must not interrupt; he must +give no sign of anxiety lest he should awaken suspicion; he must +bargain with extreme indifference while a fever burnt in all his +blood. + +"Thirty dollars," the Moor proposed. + +Charnock shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. The Moor turned +away; the slave followed the master. Charnock clenched his hands +together under the folds of his sleeves to prevent them reaching out +and clasping the man. The merchant walked slowly for a few yards. At +the entrance of the market there was a sudden obscurity; a tall man +blocked the way, entered, and stopped before the merchant and his +slave. Charnock's heart died within him; but the man only laughed and +passed on. + +Charnock felt all his muscles relax, as his suspense ended. For now +surely the slave would be brought back. The merchant turned slowly; +Warriner turned obediently behind him, and the obedience went to +Charnock's heart. It spoke of a discipline too hideous. Slowly the +owner returned to Charnock; it seemed that he would never speak. + +"Twenty-five dollars," he said. + +With an effort Charnock mastered his face and controlled his body. +"Twenty," he returned, and spoke of the slave's age, and how little +need he had of him. He heard the newcomer across the market haggling +over the negro from Timbuctoo. And at last,--at last the word was +spoken, the man he had come to search for was his, and his +inalienably, so long as he remained in any corner of Morocco. + +Charnock paid the money; he did not so much as glance again at his +slave. He rose from his seat. "Follow me," he said to Warriner in +Moghrebbin; and one behind the other, Miranda's lover and Miranda's +husband, master and slave, passed out of the market and down the +street towards the gate of Mequinez. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + CHARNOCK, LIKE THE TAXIDERMIST, + FINDS WARRINER ANYTHING BUT A COMFORTABLE COMPANION + + +On the way Charnock stopped at the _fondak_ where Hamet slept, and +bade the lad saddle the mules and bring them out of the town. Hamet +looked surprised, for nightfall was an ill time to start upon a +journey near the country of the Lemur tribes, but he was accustomed to +obey. Charnock's new slave did not even show surprise. Leaving Hamet +to follow him, Charnock passed through the gate. He dreaded to remain +in the town lest by some misfortune he might lose his slave; and, +besides, a nausea for its smells and its dirt began to gain upon him. +He walked down the slope of the hill to the olive trees and the mossy +turf. Lepers, of an unimaginable aspect, dragged by the side of the +beaten track and begged; robbers, who for their crimes had had their +eyes burnt out, kept pace with him, their eyelids closed upon red and +empty sockets; dead horses, mules, and camels were scattered by the +way, their carcases half devoured; everywhere were ruins, and things +decaying and things decayed; and over all was a sky of unbroken cloud, +and a chill lugubrious light. + +Charnock observed his surroundings with newly-opened eyes and hurried +on till he reached the olives. Then he stopped and turned to watch for +Hamet's coming. He turned a trifle suddenly and his slave +instinctively shrank away and stood submissive and mute, stilled by a +long companionship with despair. And this was a captain of Her +Majesty's Artillery, who had sailed his yacht in and out of Gibraltar +Bay! + +"My God, how you must have suffered!" cried Charnock, and he spoke in +the English tongue. + +Warriner raised a dazed, half-witted face. "Say that again," he said +slowly, and he spoke in Arabic. + +"My God, how you must have suffered!" + +Warriner listened with one forefinger uplifted; he moved his finger +backwards and forwards sawing the air. "Yes," he answered, and this +time in English; but his mouth was awkward and the English came +rustily from his tongue. "Yes, it has been a hell of a time." + +He spoke in a quite expressionless voice. But whether it was that the +forgotten sound of the tongue he used awoke in his dim mind faint +associations and a glimmer of memories, of a sudden he dropped upon +the turf amidst the olive trees and, burying his face in the moss, +sobbed violently like a child. + +Charnock let him lie there until he saw Hamet leading the mules down +the beaten way from the town-gates. Then he bent down and touched +Warriner on the shoulder. "Here is my servant--do you understand?--my +servant." + +The white man's pride answered the summons. Warriner got quickly to +his feet and drew a ragged sleeve across his face. Then he looked +round between the withered olives at that grey cruel ruin of a city +looming through the falling desolate light, and shivered. His eyes +lighted upon Hamet, and suddenly opened wide. "Those mules," he said +almost fiercely. "They are yours?" + +"Yes!" + +"Let us ride! O dear God, let us ride!" And until Hamet reached them, +his head darted this way and that, while his eyes searched the trees. +"Mind, you bought me," he said. "I belong to you; to no one else. How +far from here to the sea?" + +"Nine days." + +"Nine days," and he counted them over on his fingers. + +Hamet brought up the mules. Charnock unrolled a burnous and a turban. +Warriner plucked off his rags and put on the dress. Then the three men +rode out between the olive trees, past the outer rampart of breached +walls, into the open plain. + +"Shall we camp?" said Charnock. + +Warriner cast a look across his shoulder. Mequinez was still visible, +a greyer blot upon the grey hillside. "No," said he. + +They rode forward over carpets of flowers, between the hills. The +light fell; the marigolds paled beneath their mules' feet; the +gentians became any flower of a light hue. At last a toothed savage +screen of rock moved across Mequinez. + +"Here," said Warriner. He tumbled rather than dismounted from his +mule, stretched his limbs out upon the grass, and in a moment was +asleep. Hamet gathered a bundle of leaves from a dwarf palm tree and a +few sticks, lit a fire, and cooked their supper. Charnock woke +Warriner, who ate his meal and slept again; and all that night, with a +Mouser pistol in his hand, Charnock sat by his side and guarded him. + +The next morning they started betimes; they passed a caravan, farther +on a tent-village, and towards evening, from the shoulder of a hill +they looked down upon the vast plain of the Sebou. Level as a sea it +stretched away until the distinct colours of its flower-patches merged +into one soft blue. + +"Eight days," said Warriner; and that night, as last night, he asked +no questions of Charnock, but ate his supper and so slept; and that +night again Charnock sat by his side and guarded him. + +But the next morning Warriner for the first time began to evince some +curiosity as to his rescue and the man who had rescued him. The two +men had just bathed in a little stream which ran tinkling through the +grass beside their camp. Warriner was kneeling upon the bank of the +stream and contemplating himself in the clear mirror of its water, +when he said to Charnock: "How in the world did you know me?" + +"By your eyes." + +"We are not strangers, eh?" + +"I hailed you from a hansom cab once outside Lloyd's bank in Plymouth. +You expressed an amiable wish that I should sit in that cab and rot +away in my boots. Lucky for you I didn't!" + +"You were the man who jammed his finger? I remember; I thought you had +got a warrant in your pocket. By the way," and he lifted his head +quickly, "you never, I suppose, came across a man called Wilbraham?" + +"Ambrose?" + +"Yes, yes; when did you come across him?" + +"He was blackmailing your wife." + +"Oh, my wife," said Warriner, suddenly, as though it had only just +occurred to him that he had a wife. He turned his head and looked +curiously to Charnock, who was scrubbing himself dry some yards behind +him. "So you know my wife?" + +"Yes." + +"Ah!" Warriner again examined his face in the stream. "I think I might +walk straight up from the Ragged Staff," said he, wagging his grey +beard, "and shake hands with the Governor of Gibraltar and no one be a +penny the wiser." Then he paused. "So you know Wilbraham," he said +slowly, and paused again. "So you know my wife too;" and the pair went +to their breakfast. + +Warriner walked in front of Charnock, and the latter could not but +notice how within these two days his companion had changed. His back +was losing its timid differential curve; there was less of a slink in +his walk; he no longer shrank when a loud word was addressed to him. +Moreover, his curiosity increased, and while they were at breakfast he +asked "How did you find me?" + +And that morning as they rode forwards over the marigolds and irises, +Charnock told him of his first visit to Tangier and of Hassan Akbar. +"So when I came again," he said with perhaps a little awkwardness and +after a pause, "I had a clue, a slight one, but still a clue, and I +followed it." + +"It was you who shouted through Fournier's shop-door, was it?" said +Warriner. "That's the second time a cry of yours has fairly scared me. +So you know Wilbraham," he added in a moment; "so you know my wife +too." + +They halted at noon under a hedge of cactus, and Charnock, tired with +his long vigils, covered his head and slept. Through the long +afternoon, over pink and violet flowers, under a burning sun, they +journeyed drowsily, with no conversation and no sound at all but the +humming of the insects in the air and the whistle of birds and the +brushing of their mules' feet through the grass. That evening they +crossed the Sebou and camped a few yards from the river's bank in a +most lucid air. + +It was after supper. Charnock was lying upon his back, his head +resting upon his arms, and his eyes upturned to the throbbing stars +and the rich violet sky. Warriner squatted cross-legged beside a dying +fire, and now and then, as a flame spirted up, he cast a curious +glance towards Charnock. + +"How long have you been searching?" he asked. + +"Two years," replied Charnock. + +"Why?" + +The question was shot at him, in a sharp challenging voice. Charnock +did not move from his position; he lay resting on that vast plain +under the fresh night sky and the kindly stars; but he was some little +while silent before he answered, "Your wife asked me to come." + +Warriner nodded his head thoughtfully, but said no more. That night +Charnock did not keep watch, for they were across the Sebou and out of +the perilous country. The next morning they rode on towards Alkasar +with few words between them. Only Charnock noticed that Warriner was +continually glancing at him with a certain furtiveness, and it seemed +with a certain ill-will. Charnock grew restless under this +surveillance: he resented it; it made him vaguely uneasy. + +They rode with no shadows to console them until the afternoon brought +the clouds over the top of the Atlas. Towards evening they saw far +ahead of them the town of Alkasar amongst its gardens of orange trees +and olives. + +"We shall not reach it to-night," said Charnock, looking up at the +sky. + +"No, thank God," answered Warriner, fervently. "No towns for me! What +if it does rain?" + +So again they camped in the open, under a solitary wild fig tree, and +the rain held off. They talked indifferently upon this subject and +that, speculated upon news of Europe, and Charnock heard something of +Warriner's comings and goings, his sufferings and adventures. But the +talk was forced, and though now and again Wilbraham's name, and now +and again Miranda's, recurred, it died altogether away. + +Warriner broke it suddenly. "You are in love with my wife," he said. + +Charnock started up on his elbow. "What the devil has that got to do +with you?" he asked fiercely. + +The two men eyed one another across the leaping flames of the fire. +"Well, you have a right to put it that way, no doubt," said Warriner. + +Charnock sank down again. He felt resentment throbbing hot within him. +He was very glad that there were only five more days during which he +and Warriner must travel together alone, and during which he must keep +ward over the man he had rescued. + +But the next day was one of peace. The mere proximity of a Moorish +town had terrors for Warriner. His eyes turned ever towards it, scared +and frightened. His very body shrank and took on a servile air. +Besides, it rained. + +"We might sleep in Alkasar. There is a Jew I stayed with coming up; +you will be safe there," said Charnock. + +"I would sooner shiver to death here," replied Warriner, and they +skirted the town. + +But a little distance from the gates Charnock called a halt, and +taking Hamet and a mule he went up into the town. He sought out his +Jew, and bought a tent, which he packed upon the mule, and so returned +to where Warriner crouched and hid amongst the orange trees. Beyond +Alkasar they passed through a long stretch of stubble, whence acres of +wheat had been garnered, and at night the two men sat in the opening +of their tent, while the lad Hamet drew weird melancholy from his +pipe. + +Warriner was silent; he was evidently turning over some thought in his +mind, and his mind, rusted by his servitude, worked very slowly. A man +of great vindictiveness and jealousy, he was not grateful for his +rescue; but he was brooding over the motives which had induced +Charnock to come in search of him, and which had persuaded Miranda to +send him in search. Warriner had never cared for his wife, but his +wife had never till now given him any cause for jealousy, and out of +his present jealousy there sprang and grew in his half-crazy and +disordered mind a quite fictitious passion. + +He revealed something of it the next morning to Charnock. For after he +had waked up and yawned, after he had watched for a moment the busy +shadow of Hamet upon the tent-wall and heard the light crackle of the +breakfast fire, he roused Charnock with a shake of the shoulder and +resumed the conversation at the point where it had been broken off +when they sat by the camp-fire. + +"But I'll tell you a question which has to do with me, Charnock," he +said. "Is my wife in love with you?" + +"You damned blackguard!" cried Charnock. + +"Thanks!" said Warriner, with a chuckle. "That's answer enough." + +"It's no answer at all!" exclaimed Charnock, hotly, and he sat up +amongst his blankets and took refuge in subterfuges. "If what you say +were true, is it likely that your wife would have asked me to find you +out and bring you back?" + +"That's the very point I have been considering," returned Warriner; +"and I think it uncommon likely. Women have all sorts of underground +scruples which it's difficult for a man to get upside with, and I can +imagine a woman would send off her fancy man on this particular +business as a kind of set-off and compensation. See?" + +Charnock dared not trust himself to answer. He got up and walked to +the door of the tent, unfastened the flap, and let the sunlight in. + +"Funny thing!" continued Warriner, "I never took much account of my +wife. She was a bit too stately for me. It was just as though someone +played symphonies to you all day when you hankered after music of the +music-hall type. But somehow,--I suppose it's seeing you doing the +heroic and all for her, don't you know?--somehow I am getting very +fond of her." + +Charnock seemed to have heard not a single word. He stood at the door +of the tent, looking indifferently this way and that. His silence +spurred Warriner to continue. "I tell you what, Charnock," he said, +"you had better run straight with me. You'll find out your mistake if +you don't. I'll tell you something more: you had better let me find +when I get back to Ronda that you have run straight with me." He saw +Charnock suddenly look round the angle of the tent and then shade his +eyes with his hand. It seemed impossible to provoke him in any way. +"Mind, I don't say that I shall take it much to heart, if the affair +has stopped where you say it has." Charnock had said not a word about +the matter, as Warriner was well aware. "No," he continued, "on the +contrary; for no harm's actually done, you say, and my wife steps down +from her pedestal on to my level. Understand, sonny?--What are you up +to? Here, I say." + +Charnock had stridden back into the tent. He stooped over Warriner and +roughly plucked him up from the ground. "Stand up, will you!" he +cried. + +"Here, I say," protested Warriner, rather feebly; "you might be +speaking to a dog." + +"I wish I was." + +At that Warriner turned. The two men's faces were convulsed with +passion; hatred looked out from Warriner's eyes and saw its image in +Charnock's. + +"Get out of the tent," said Charnock, and taking Warriner by the +shoulder, he threw rather than pushed him out. + +"Now, what's that?" and he pointed an arm towards the east. + +"That's a caravan." + +"Quite so, a caravan. Perhaps you have forgotten what you said to me +outside the walls of Mequinez. You belong to me, you remember. You're +mine; I bought you, and I can sell you if I choose." + +"By God, you wouldn't do that!" cried Warriner. His years of slavery +rushed back on him. He saw himself again tramping, under the sun, with +a load upon his back through the sand towards Algiers, over the hills +to the Sus country; he heard again the whistle of a stick through the +air, heard its thud as it fell upon his body, and felt the blow. "My +God, you couldn't do that!" And seeing Charnock towering above him, +his face hard, his eyes gloomy, he clung to his arm. "Charnock, old +man! You wouldn't, would you?" + +"You'll fetch half a dozen copper _flouss_" said Charnock. + +"Look here, Charnock, I apologise. See, old man, see? I am sorry; you +hear that, don't you? Yes, I'm sorry. It's my cursed tongue." + +Charnock shook him off. "We left your rags behind, I believe, so you +can keep those clothes. The caravan will pass us in an hour." Then +Warriner fell to prayers, and flamed up in anger and curses and died +down again to whimpering. All the while Charnock stood over him silent +and contemptuous. There was no doubt possible he meant to carry out +his threat. Warriner burst out in a flood of imprecations, and Moorish +imprecations, for they came most readily to his tongue. He called on +God to burn Charnock's great-grandmother, and then in an instant he +became very cunning and calm. + +"And what sort of a face will you show to Miranda," he said smoothly, +"when you get back to Ronda? You have forgotten that." + +Charnock had forgotten it; in his sudden access of passion he had +clean forgotten it. Warriner wiped the sweat from his face; he did not +need to look at Charnock to be assured that at this moment he was the +master. He stuck his legs apart and rested his hands upon his hips. +"You weren't quite playing the game, eh, Charnock?" he said easily. +"Do you think you were quite playing the game?" + +From that moment Warriner was master, and he was not inclined to leave +Charnock ignorant upon that point. Jealousy burnt within him. His mind +was unstable. A quite fictitious passion for his wife, for whom he had +never cared, and of whom he certainly would very quickly tire, was +kindled by his jealousy; and he left no word unspoken which could +possibly wound his deliverer. Charnock bitterly realised the false +position into which he had allowed passion to lead him; and for the +future he held his peace. + +"Only one more day," he said with relief, as they saw the hills behind +Tangier. + +"And what then, Charnock?" said Warriner. "What then?" + +What then, indeed? Charnock debated that question during the long +night, the last night he was to spend under canvas in company with +Ralph Warriner. Sometime to-morrow they would see the minarets of +Tangier--to-morrow evening they would ride down across the Sôk and +sleep within the town. What then? Passion was raw in these two men. It +was a clear night; an African moon sailed the sky, and the interior of +the tent was bright. Warriner lay motionless, a foot or two away, +wrapped in his dark coverings, and Charnock was conscious of a fierce +thrill of joy when he remembered Miranda's confession that she had no +love left for her husband. He did not attempt to repress it; he hugged +the recollection to his heart. All at once Warriner began softly to +whistle a tune; it was the tune which he had whistled that morning at +the gates of Tangier cemetery, it was the tune which Miranda had +hummed over absently in the little parlour at Ronda, and which had +given Charnock the clue--and because of the clue Warriner was again +whistling the tune in the same tent with himself--a day's march from +Tangier. + +Charnock began hotly to regret that he had ever heard it, that he had +charged Hamet to repeat it, and that so he had fixed it in his mind. +He kicked over on his rugs, and he heard Warriner speak. + +"You are awake, are you? I say, Charnock," he asked smoothly, "did +Miranda show you the graveyard in Gib? That was my youngster, +understand?--mine and Miranda's." + +Charnock clenched his teeth, clenched his hand, and straightened his +muscles out through all his body, that he might give no sign of what +he felt. + +"Bone of my bone," continued Warriner, in a silky, drawling voice, +"flesh of my flesh,--and Miranda's." Perhaps some deep breath drawn +with a hiss through the teeth assured Warriner that his speech was not +spoken in vain; for he laughed softly and hatefully to himself. + +Charnock lay quite still, but every vein in his body was throbbing. He +had one thought only to relieve him. Warriner had said the last +uttermost word of provocation; he had fashioned it out of the dust of +his child, when but for that child he would still be a slave; and out +of the wifehood of Miranda, when but for Miranda Charnock would never +have come in search of him. _Rupert Warriner, aged two_. The +gravestone, the boy looking out between the lattices, was very visible +to Charnock at that moment. He was in the mind to give Warriner an +account of how and why he was brought to see it; but he held his +peace, sure that whatever gibes or stings Warriner might dispense in +the future, they would be trifling and inconsiderable compared with +this monumental provocation. + +He was wrong; Warriner's malice had yet another resource. Seeing that +Charnock neither answered him nor moved, he got up from his couch. +Charnock saw him rummaging amongst the baggage, hopping about the +tent in the pale moonlight; the shadow of his beard wagged upon the +tent-wall, and all the while he chuckled and whispered to himself. +Charnock watched his fantastic movements and took them together with +the man's fantastic words, and it occurred to him then for the first +time to ask whether Warriner's mind had suffered with his body. He had +come to this point of his reflections when Warriner, stooping over a +bundle, found whatever it was for which he searched. Charnock heard a +light snick, like the cocking of a pistol, only not so loud. Then +Warriner hopped back to Charnock's side, knelt down and thrust +something into the palm of Charnock's hand. Charnock's fingers closed +on it instinctively and gripped it hard; for this something was the +handle of a knife and the blade was open. + +"There!" said Warriner. "You have to protect me. This is the last +night, so I give you the knife to protect me with." + +He hopped back to his rugs, twittering with pleasure; and turning his +face once more towards Charnock, while Charnock lay with the open +knife in his hand, he resumed, "My boy, Charnock--mine and +Miranda's--mine and Miranda's." + +The next evening they rode over the cobblestones of Tangier and halted +at M. Fournier's shop. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + COMPLETES THE JOURNEYINGS OF THIS + INCONGRUOUS COUPLE + + +M. Fournier received the wanderers with an exuberant welcome. He fell +upon Warriner's neck, patted him, and wept over him for joy at his +return and for grief at his aged and altered looks. Then he grasped +Charnock with both hands. "The deliverer," he cried, "the friend so +noble!" + +"Yes," said Warriner, pleasantly; "_ce bon_ Charnock, he loves my +wife." + +Within half-an-hour the two travellers were shaved and clothed in +European dress. + +"Would anyone know me?" asked Warriner. + +"My poor friend, I am afraid not," answered Fournier, and Warriner +seemed very well pleased with the answer. + +"Then we will go and dine, really and properly dine, at a hotel on +champagne wine," said he. + +They dined at a window which looked out across the Straits, and all +through that dinner Warriner's face darkened and darkened and his gaze +was sombrely fixed towards Gibraltar. + +"What are your plans?" asked Fournier. + +"The first thing I propose to do is to walk up to the cemetery and +astonish my friend Hassan Akbar." + +"You will not find him. The Basha thought it wise to keep him safe in +prison until you were found." + +"He has been there two years then?" said Warriner. "He had no friends. +Then he is dead?" For the Moorish authorities do not feed the +prisoners in the Kasbah. + +M. Fournier blushed. "No, he is not dead. He would have starved, +but,--you will forgive it, my friend? After all he had no great reason +to like you,--I sent him food myself every day,--not very much, but +enough," stammered M. Fournier, anxiously. + +Warriner waved his hand. "It is a small thing; yes, I forgive you." + +"And he may go free?" + +"Why not? He will not catch me again." + +M. Fournier's face brightened with admiration. + +"Ah, but you are great, truly great," he exclaimed; "my friend, you +are _magnanime!_ Now tell me what you will do." + +M. Fournier's magnanimous friend replied. "The boat crosses to +Algeciras to-morrow. I shall go up to Ronda. And you?" he asked, +turning to Charnock. + +"I shall go with you," said Charnock. + +"_Ce bon_ Charnock," said Warriner, with a smile. "He loves my wife." + +"But afterwards?" Fournier hurried to interpose. "Will you stay at +Ronda?" + +"No." + +Warriner's eyes strained out across the water to where the topmost +ridge of Gibraltar rose against the evening sky. Since his rescue two +thoughts had divided and made a conflict in his mind; one was his +jealousy of Charnock, his unreal hot-house affection for Miranda; the +other had been represented by his vague questions and statements about +Wilbraham. He was now to speak more clearly, for as he looked over to +the Rock, Wilbraham was uppermost in his mind. + +"You did not know Wilbraham," he resumed. "Charnock did, _ce bon_ +Charnock. I have a little account to settle with Wilbraham, a little +account of some standing, and now there's a new item to the bill. The +scullion! Imagine it, Fournier. He blackmailed my wife; blackmailed +Miranda! Do you understand?" he cried feverishly. "Miranda! You know +her, Charnock. Fournier, how often have I spoken of her to you? +Miranda!" And words failed him, so inconceivable was the thought that +any man should bring himself to do any wrong to his Miranda. + +M. Fournier stared. As he had once told Mrs. Warriner, Ralph had +spoken to him of Miranda; but it had not been with the startling +enthusiasm which at present he evinced. + +"I shall settle my accounts with Wilbraham first," continued Warriner, +"after I have seen Miranda. Did you know it was Wilbraham who sold the +plans of the Daventry gun?" + +"Was it?" exclaimed Charnock. + +"It was," and the three men drew their chairs closer together. +"Wilbraham was a moneylender's tout at Gib. I had borrowed money and +renewed; I borrowed again, and again renewed. You see," he argued in +excuse, "I would not touch a penny of my wife's estate; that of course +was sacred. It was Miranda's--" + +"And settled upon Miranda," Charnock could not refrain from +interposing. + +"Don't you call my wife by her christian name, else you and I will +quarrel," exclaimed Warriner, banging his fist violently upon the +table, and M. Fournier anxiously signed to Charnock to be silent. + +"It was a slip," said Fournier, and soothingly he patted Warriner on +the shoulder. "Here! have one or two fine champagne, eh? Now go on; we +are all of us good friends. You borrowed twice from Wilbraham and did +not pay; you would not, of course. Well?" + +"I tried to borrow a third time," continued Warriner; "but Wilbraham +refused unless I could offer him good security. He himself suggested +the plans of the Daventry gun. He swore most solemnly that he would +not use them; he would keep them as a security for three weeks, and I +wanted his money. I had debts to pay, debts to my brother officers, +and I agreed. He lent me the money; I gave him the plans, and he went +off to Paris and sold them. I received a hint one afternoon that the +mechanism of the gun was known, and I ran out of Gibraltar that +evening. So, you see, I have an account with him; and it grows and +grows and grows upon me each time that I see that." He pointed a +shaking finger to where the sharp ridge of Gibraltar cut the evening +sky. "Now that I can go where I will and no one will know me, I will +get the account paid, and cut a receipt in full with a knife right +across Wilbraham's face." + +His voice rose and quavered with a feverish excitement, his eyes shone +and glittered; it seemed to Charnock there was madness in them. M. +Fournier's eyes met his and they exchanged glances, so M. Fournier, +who was engaged in assiduously soothing Warriner, shared the +conjecture. Indeed, as M. Fournier took his leave, he said privately +to Charnock: "My poor friend! what will be the end of it for him? His +wife does not like him and he will follow this Wilbraham, and he is +not himself." + +Charnock was lighting his candle at the hall-table. + +"Yes," said he, slowly. "There is his wife, there is Wilbraham, there +is himself; what is to be the end of it all?" + +He went up the stairs to his room. His room communicated with +Warriner's, and taking the key from the door, he left the door +unlocked. More than once as he tossed upon his bed vainly reiterating +the question, what was to be the end, he heard the latch of the door +click, he saw the door open slowly, he saw a head come cautiously +through the opening; and then, as he lay still, Warriner came hopping +across the room to his bed. Warriner came to assure himself that +Charnock had not stolen a march upon him during the night; he was +possessed by a crazy fear lest Charnock should see Miranda before +himself. + +On the following afternoon they crossed together to Algeciras, through +a rough sea in a strong wind. + +"It's the Levanter," said Warriner; "there'll be three days of it." He +looked earnestly at Gibraltar as the boat turned into the bay. +"Wilbraham, Wilbraham," he muttered in a voice of anticipation. Then +he turned to Charnock. "Mind, we go up to Ronda together! We shall +have to stay the night at Algeciras. Mind, you are not to charter a +special and go up ahead while I am asleep." + +Charnock was sorely tempted to secure an engine, as he could have +done, but Miranda had asked to see him "once when he brought Ralph +back," and so the next morning they travelled together. + +At noon Charnock saw again the walnut door encrusted with the copper +nails, and Warriner was already hammering upon it with his stick. The +moment it was opened he rushed through without a word, thrusting the +servant aside. + +Charnock followed him, but though he followed he had the advantage, +for while Warriner gazed about the patio into which for the first time +he entered, Charnock ran across to the little room in which Miranda +was wont to sit. He opened the door. + +"Empty," said Warriner, from behind his shoulder, and he pushed past +Charnock into the room. From the balcony above them Jane Holt spoke. +She spoke to Charnock as she ran down the stair. + +"It's you at last! Miranda is at Gibraltar. She expected to hear of +you, and thought she would hear more quickly there. She has been ill, +besides; she needed doctors." + +"Ill?" exclaimed Charnock. + +"Who is that?" asked Miss Holt, glancing across Charnock's shoulder. + +"Ralph." + +"Ralph!" cried out Miss Holt. "But he's--" + +"Hush!" + +They followed Warriner into the room, and Charnock closed the door. + +"Didn't you know?" he asked. "I went to find him." + +"No," she replied, utterly bewildered. "It seems strange; but Miranda +is very secret. A little unkind, perhaps," and then her voice went up +almost in a scream as Warriner turned towards her. "Ralph! Is that +Ralph?" + +"Yes, yes, it's Ralph," said Warriner, and all the time he spoke, he +trotted and hopped and danced about the room. "Ralph Warriner, to be +sure; a little bit aged, eh, Jane Holt? Little bit musty? Been lyin' +too long in the churchyard at Scilly--bound to alter your looks +that,--what?" He skipped over to the writing table and began with a +seeming aimlessness to pull out the drawers. "Where's Miranda? Does +she know her lovin' husband's here? Why don't she come? Tell me that, +Jane Holt!" He made a quick, and to Charnock an unintelligible, +movement at the writing table, shut up a drawer with a bang, and the +next moment he had a hand tight upon Jane Holt's wrist. "Where's +Miranda? Quick!" and he shook her arm fiercely, but with a sly look +towards Charnock; his other hand he thrust into his pocket. Charnock +just got a glimpse of a sheet of paper clenched in the fist. Warriner +withdrew his hand from his pocket empty. He had stolen something from +the writing drawer. But what it was Charnock could not guess, nor did +he think it wise, in view of Warriner's excitement, to ask. + +"Miranda's at Gibraltar," said Miss Holt, quite alarmed by the man's +extravagance. "I told you, she is ill." + +Warriner waited to hear no more. He dropped her arm. "At Gibraltar," +he said, and ran out of the room across the patio. Charnock followed +him immediately. "He must not go alone," he cried over his shoulder to +Miss Holt, but the excuse was only half of his motive. Passion, +resentment, jealousy,--these too ordered him and he obeyed. + +Charnock came up with Warriner at the railway station. The train did +not leave Ronda until three, as Charnock might have known and so +behaved with dignity before Miss Holt; but he was beyond the power of +argument or reflection. He hurried after Warriner and caught him up, +and during the two hours of waiting, the two men kept watch and ward +upon each other. Together they walked to the hotel, they lunched at +the same table, they returned side by side to the station, and seated +themselves side by side in the same carriage of the train. The train +which takes four hours to climb to Ronda runs down that long slope of +a hundred miles in two hours. Charnock and Warriner took their seats +in a _coupé_ at the end of the last carriage; they rushed suddenly +into the dark straight tunnels, and saw the mouths by which they had +entered as round O's of light which contracted and contracted until a +mere pin's-point of sunshine was visible far away, and then suddenly +they were out again in the daylight. + +There were certain landmarks with which Charnock was familiar,--a +precipitous gorge upon the right, an underground river which flooded +out from a hillside upon the left, a white town far away upon a green +slope like a flock of sheep herded together, and finally the glades of +the cork forest with the gleam of its stripped tree-trunks. The train +drew up at Algeciras a few minutes after five. + +Charnock and Warriner were met with the statement that the Levanter +of yesterday had increased in force, and by the order of the +harbour-master the port of Algeciras was closed. It was impossible to +make the passage to Gibraltar--and Miranda was ill. She had needed +doctors, Jane Holt had said. Charnock's fears exaggerated the malady; +she might be dying; she might die while he and Warriner waited at +Algeciras for the sea to subside. "We must reach Gibraltar to-night," +he cried. + +"And before gunfire," added Warriner. "But how?" + +Charnock went straight to the office of the manager of the line. The +manager greeted him with warmth. "But, man, where have you been these +two years?" he exclaimed. + +"There's a station at San Roque half-way round the bay," said +Charnock. "I must get into Gibraltar to-night. If I can have a special +to San Roque, I might drive the last nine miles." + +Gibraltar is before everything a fortress, and the gates of that +fortress are closed for the night at gunfire, and opened again for the +day at gunfire in the morning. + +"You will never do it," said the manager. "The gun goes off at seven." + +"What's the month?" cried Warriner. + +"July," answered the manager, in surprise. + +"And the day of July?" + +"The fifth." + +"Good," cried Warriner. "You are wrong; on the fifth of July the gun +goes off at eight--from the fifth of July to the thirty-first of +August." + +The manager uncoupled one carriage and the engine, coupled them +together and switched them on to the up-line. Meanwhile Charnock +telegraphed to the station-master at San Roque, to have a carriage in +readiness; but time was occupied, and it was six o'clock before the +engine steamed into San Roque. + +San Roque is a wayside station; the village lies a mile away, hidden +behind a hill. Charnock and Warriner alighted amongst fields and +thickets of trees, but nowhere was there a house visible, and worst of +all, there was no carriage in the lane outside the station. The +station-master had ordered one, and no doubt one would arrive. He +counselled patience. + +For half-an-hour the incongruous companions, united by a common +passion and a mutual hate, kicked their heels upon the lonely platform +of San Roque. Then at last a crazy, battered, creaking diligence, +drawn by six broken-kneed, sore-backed mules, cantered up to the +station with a driver and a boy upon the box, whooping exhortations to +the mules with the full power of their lungs. + +Charnock and Warriner sprang up into the hooded seat behind the box, +the driver turned his mules, and the diligence went off at a canter, +along an unmade track across the fields. + +It was now close upon a quarter to seven, and nine miles lay between +San Roque and the gates of Gibraltar. Moreover, there was no road for +the first part of the journey, merely this unmade track across the +fields. The two men urged on the driver with open-handed promises; the +driver screamed and shouted at his mules: "Hi! mules, here's a bull +after you!" He counterfeited the barking of dogs; but the mules were +accustomed to his threats and exhortations; they knew there were no +dogs at their heels, and they kept to their regular canter. + +Charnock longed for the fields to end and for the road to begin; and +when the road did begin, he longed again for the fields. The road +consisted of long lines of ruts, ruts which were almost trenches, ruts +which had been baked hard by the summer suns. The mules stumbled +amongst them, the diligence tossed and pitched and rolled like a boat +in a heavy sea; Charnock and Warriner clung to their seats, while the +driver continually looked round to see whether a wheel had slipped off +from its axle. At times the boy would jump down from the box, and +running forward with the whip in his hand, would beat the mules with +the butt-end; the lash had long ceased to influence their movements. + +"The road's infernal," cried Warriner. + +"It will be when we get to the sea," replied the driver, and Charnock +groaned in his distress. There was worse to come, and Miranda was ill. + +The diligence lurched between two clumps of juniper trees, swung round +a wall, and instantly the wheels sank into soft sand. The huge, sheer +landward face of Gibraltar Rock towered up before them as they looked +across the mile of neutral ground, that flat neck of land between the +Mediterranean and the Bay. They saw the Spanish frontier town of +Linea; but to Linea the sand stretched in a broad golden curve, soft +and dry, and through that curve of sand the wheels of the diligence +had to plough. The mules were beaten onwards, but the Levanter blew +dead in their teeth. The driver turned the diligence towards the sea, +and drove with the water splashing over the wheels; there the sand +bound, and the pace was faster. + +It was still, however, too slow; Gibraltar seemed still as far away. +The travellers paid the driver, leaped from their seats, and ran over +the soft clogging sand to Linea. They reached Linea. They passed the +sentinel and the iron gates, they stood upon the neutral ground. They +had but one more mile to traverse. + +A cab stood without the iron gates. They jumped into it and drove at a +gallop across the level; but the gun was fired from the Rock, while +they were still half-a-mile from the gate, and the cabman brought his +horses to a standstill. + +"What now?" said Warriner. + +"We might get in," said Charnock. + +"The keys are taken to the Governor. There would be trouble; there +always is. I know there would be questions asked; it would not be +safe. I might slip in when the gates are open, but now it would not be +safe. And mind, Charnock, when you go in I go in too." + +There was no doubt that Warriner meant what he said, every word of it. +For Miranda's sake Charnock could not risk Warriner's detection. They +must remain outside Gibraltar for that night, even though during the +night Miranda should die. + +"Can we sleep at Linea?" said Charnock. + +"No, Linea is a collection of workmen's houses and workmen's +pot-houses." The two men made their supper at one of these latter, and +for the rest of the night paced the neutral ground before Gibraltar. + +A scud of clouds darkened the sky, and one pile of cloud, darker than +the rest, lowered stationary upon the summit of the Rock. All night +the Levanter blew pitilessly cold across that unprotected neck of land +between sea and sea. With their numbed hands in their pockets, and +their coats buttoned to the throat, Charnock and Warriner, accustomed +to the blaze of a Morocco sun, waited from nightfall until midnight, +and from midnight through the biting, dreary hours till dawn. + +The gates were opened at three o'clock in the morning. Together the +two men went through; they had still hours to wait before they could +return to the hotel. They breakfasted together, and they let the time +go by, for now that they were within reach of, almost within sight of, +Miranda Warriner, they both began to hesitate. What was to be the end? +They looked at one another across the table with that question +speaking from their eyes. They walked down to the hotel and faced each +other at the door, and the question was still repeated and still +unanswered. They turned away together and strolled a few yards, and +turned and came back again. This time Charnock entered the hotel. "Is +Mrs. Warriner in?" he asked. + +The waiter replied, "Yes." + +Charnock drew a long breath. Surely if much had been amiss with her +the waiter would have told them; but he said nothing, he merely led +the way upstairs. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + IN WHICH CHARNOCK ASTONISHES RALPH + WARRINER + + +The waiter threw open the door, the two men entered, and Warriner shut +the door. Miranda rose from a chair and stood looking from Charnock to +Warriner and back again from Warriner to Charnock; and as yet no word +was spoken by anyone of them. Charnock had time to note, and grieve +for, the pallor of her face and the purple hollows about her eyes. +Then she moved forward for a step or two quite steadily; she murmured +a name and the name was not Ralph; and then suddenly, without any +warning, she fell to the ground between Charnock and her husband, and +lay still and lifeless. + +"My God, she's dead!" whispered Warriner. "We should have sent word of +our coming. We have killed her," and then he stopped. For Charnock was +standing by the side of Miranda and talking down to her as she lay, in +a low, soft, chiding voice. + +"Come," he was saying, "it's what you wished. You will be glad when +you have time to think over it and understand. There is no reason why +you should--" + +This intimate talking with the lifeless woman came upon Warriner as +something horrible. "Man, can't you see?" he whispered hoarsely. +"She's dead, Miranda is. We have killed her, you and I." + +Charnock slowly turned his head towards Warriner and looked at him +steadily with his eyebrows drawn down over his eyes. Somehow Warriner +was frightened by that glance; he felt a chill creep down his spine; +he was more frightened than even on that morning when Charnock +threatened to sell him outside Alkasar. "She's dead, I tell you," he +babbled, and so was silent. + +Charnock looked back to Miranda, sank upon one knee by her side, and +bending his head down began to whisper to her exhortations, gentle +reproaches at her lack of courage, and between his words he smiled at +her as at a wayward child. + +"There is no reason to fear," the uncanny talk went on; "and it hurts +us! You don't know how much. You might as well speak, not be like +this--pretending." He reached over her and took her hand, cherished it +in his own, and entwined his fingers with her fingers and then +laughed, as though her fingers had responded to his own. "You are +rather cruel, you know." + +Warriner moved uneasily. "Charnock, I tell you Miranda's--" + +Charnock flung his other arm across her body and crouched over it, +glaring at Warriner like a beast about to spring. + +"And I tell you she's not, she's not, she's not!" he hissed out. +"Dead!" and suddenly he lifted up Miranda's head, held it in the +hollow of his arm and kissed the face upon the forehead and the lips. +"Dead?" and he broke out into a laugh. "Is she? I'll show you. Come! +Come!" He forced his disengaged arm underneath her waist, and putting +all his strength into the swing lifted himself on to his feet, and +lifted Miranda with him. "Now don't you see?" Warriner was standing, +his mouth open, his eyes contracted; there was more than horror +expressed in them, there was terror besides. + +"Don't you see?" cried Charnock, in a wild triumph. "Perhaps you are +blind. Are you blind, Ralph Warriner?" + +He held Miranda supported against his shoulder, and swung her up and +tried to set her dangling feet firm-planted on the ground; but her +limbs gave, her head rolled upon his shoulder. He hitched her up +again, her head fell back exposing the white column of her throat. The +heavy masses of her hair broke from their fastenings, unrolled about +her shoulders, and tumbled about his. He tried again to set her on her +feet, and her head fell forward upon his breast, and her hair swept +across his lips. "There, man," he cried, "she can stand.... Can a dead +woman stand? Tell me that!" He held her so that she had the posture, +the semblance, of one who stands, though all her weight was upon his +arm. His laughter rose without any gradation to the pitch of a scream, +sank without gradation to a hoarse cry. "Why, she can walk! Can a dead +woman walk? See! See!" And suddenly he dropped his arm from her waist, +and stood aside from her, holding her hand in his. Instantly her +figure curved and broke. She swung round towards him upon the pivot of +his hand, and as she swung she stumbled and fell. Charnock caught her +before she reached the ground, lifted her up, strained her to his +breast, and held her so. One deep sob broke from him, shook him, and +left him trembling. He carried Miranda to a couch, and there gently +laid her down. Gently he divided her hair back from her temples and +her face; he crossed her hands upon her breast, watched her for a +second as she lay, her dress soiled with the dust of his journeyings; +and then he dropped on his knees by the couch, and with a set white +face, with his eyelids shut tight upon his eyes, in a low, even voice +he steadily blasphemed. + +Some time later a hand was laid upon his shoulder and a strange voice +bade him rise. He stood up and looked at the stranger with a dazed +expression like one who comes out of the dark into a lighted room. +Warriner also was in the room. Charnock caught a word here and there; +the stranger was speaking to him; Charnock gathered that the stranger +was a doctor, and that Warriner had fetched him. + +"But she's dead," said Charnock, resentfully. "Why trouble her? she's +dead." And looking down to Miranda, he saw that there was a faint +flush of pink upon her cheeks, where all had been white before. "But +you said she was dead," he said stupidly to Warriner, and as the +doctor bent over her, it broke in upon him that she was in truth +alive, that she had but swooned, and the shame of what he had done +came home to him. "I was mad," he said, "I was mad." + +"Go," said the doctor, "both of you." + +"I can stay," said Warriner. "This is Mrs. Warriner; I am her husband, +Ralph Warriner." The doctor looked up sharply. Warriner simply nodded +his head. "Yes, yes," he said; "and this is Charnock. _Ce bon_ +Charnock. You see, he loves my wife." + +Warriner spoke slowly and in an inexpressive voice, as though he too +was hardly aware of what he said. The conviction that Miranda was dead +had come with equal force to both of these two men, and the knowledge +that she was not brought an equal stupefaction. Warriner remained in +the room; Charnock went outside and down the stairs. + +He came to his senses in the streets of Gibraltar, and looking +backwards, seemed to himself to have lost them weeks ago somewhere +between Mequinez and Alkasar, in a profitless rivalry for a woman who +could not belong to him. In the present revulsion of his feelings he +was conscious that he had lost all his enmity towards Warriner. He +walked down to the landing-stage at the Mole. The Levanter had spent +its force during the night; the sea had gone down; a steamer was +dropping its anchor in the bay. Charnock was in two minds whether or +no to cross the harbour to Algeciras, where Warriner and himself had +left their traps the day before, gather together his belongings, and +sail for England in that steamer. He had done all that he had been +enjoined to do; he had brought Warriner back; he had even, as he had +promised, paid the one last visit to Miranda. But,--but, he might be +wanted, he pleaded to himself, and so undecided he wandered about the +streets, and in the afternoon came back to the hotel. + +The waiter was watching for his return. Mrs. Warriner wished to speak +with him. There was no sign of Warriner. Charnock mounted the stairs. +There was no sign of Warriner within the sitting-room. Miranda was +alone, and from the frank unembarrassed way with which she held out +her hand, Charnock understood that she knew nothing of what had passed +in the morning. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + RELATES A SECOND MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK + AND MIRANDA + + +"I Was afraid you had gone without my thanks," she said; "and thanks +are the only coin I have to pay you with." + +"Surely there needs no payment." + +"I should have thanked you this morning; but your return overcame me, +I had hoped and prayed so much for it." + +The scream of the P. and O.'s steam-whistle sounded through the room. +They both turned instinctively to the window, they saw the last late +boat-load reach the ship's side, and in a moment or so they heard the +rattle of the anchor-chain. + +"And Ralph?" asked Charnock. + +Miranda pointed to the steamer. Already the white fan of water +streamed away from its stern. + +"He has sailed?" + +"Yes. He could not stay here. His--" she paused for a second and then +spoke the word boldly, "his crime was hushed up, but it is of course +known here to a few, and all know that there is something. He told his +name to the doctor. It was not safe for him to stay over this +morning." + +"He has gone to England?" + +"Yes, but he will leave England immediately. He promised to write to +me, so that I may know where he is." + +More of Warriner's interview with his wife, neither Charnock nor +anyone ever knew. Whether he asked her to come with him and she +refused, or whether, once he saw her and had speech with her, his +fictitious passion died as quickly as it had grown--these are matters +which Miranda kept locked within her secret memories. At this time +indeed such questions did not at all occur to Charnock. As he watched +the great steamer heading out of the bay, and understood that he must +be taking the same path, he was filled with a great pity for the +lonely woman at his side. The thought of her home up there in the +Spanish hills and of her solitary, discontented companion came to him +with a new and poignant sadness. Ronda was no longer a fitting shrine +for her as his first fancies had styled it, but simply a strange place +in a strange country. + +"Why don't you go home to your own place, to your own people?" he +suggested rather than asked. + +Miranda was silent for a while. "I have thought of it," she said at +length; "I think too that I shall. At first, there was the disgrace, +there was the pity--I could not have endured it; besides, there was +Rupert. But--but--I think I shall." + +"I should," said Charnock, decidedly. "I should be glad, too, to know +that you had made up your mind to that. I should be very glad to think +that you were back at your own home." + +"Why?" she asked, a little surprised at his earnestness. + +"Of course, I wasn't born to it," he replied disconnectedly; "but now +and then I have stayed at manor-houses in the country; and such visits +have always left an impression on me. I would have liked myself to +have been born of the soil on which I lived, to have lived where my +fathers and grandfathers lived and walked and laughed and suffered, in +the same rooms, under the same trees, enjoying the associations which +they made. Do you know, I don't think that that is a privilege lightly +to be foregone." And for a while again they both were silent. + +Then Miranda turned suddenly and frankly towards him: "I should like +so much to show you my home." She had said much the same on that first +evening of their meeting in Lady Donnisthorpe's balcony, as they both +surely remembered. + +"I should like much to see it," returned Charnock, gently; "but I am a +busy man." Miranda coloured at the conventional excuse, as Charnock +saw. "But it was kind of you to say that. I was glad to hear it," he +added. + +It was not to the addition she replied, but to his first excuse. "As +it is, you have lost two years. I have made you lose them." + +"Please!" he exclaimed. "You won't let that trouble you. Promise me! I +am a young man; it would be a strange thing if I could not give two +years to you. Believe me, Mrs. Warriner, when my time comes, and I +turn my face to the wall, whatever may happen between now and then, I +shall count those two years as the years for which I have most reason +to be thankful." + +Miranda turned abruptly away from him and looked out of the window +with intense curiosity at nothing whatever. Then she said in a low +voice: "I hope that's true; I hope you mean it; I believe you do. I +have been much troubled by an old theory of yours, that a woman was a +brake on the wheel going up hill, and a whip in the driver's hand +going down." + +"I will give you a new theory to replace the old," he answered. "There +are always things to do, you know. Suppose that a man has cared for a +woman, has set her always within his vision, has always worked for +her, for a long while, and has at last come surely, against his will, +to know that she was ... despicable, why then, perhaps he might have +reason to be disheartened. But otherwise--well, he has things to do +and memories to quicken him in the doing of them." + +"Thank you," she said simply. "I think what you say is true. I once +met a man who found a woman to be despicable, and the world went very +ill with him." + +It was of Major Wilbraham she was thinking, who had more than once +written to Miranda during these two years, and whose last letter she +imagined to be lying then in a drawer of her writing-table at Ronda. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + A MIST IN THE CHANNEL ENDS, AS IT BEGAN, + THE BOOK + + +But that letter was in Ralph Warriner's pocket, as he walked the deck +of the P. and O. It was dated from a hotel at Dartmouth, whence, said +the Major, he was starting on a little cruise westwards in the company +of a young gentleman from Oxford who owned a competence and a yacht. +The Major would be back at Dartmouth in some six weeks' time and +hoped, for Mrs. Warriner's sake, that he would find a registered +letter awaiting him. The Major was still upon his cruise, as Ralph +Warriner was assured from the recent date of the letter. + +Warriner disembarked at Plymouth and took train to Dartmouth, where he +learned the name of the yacht by merely asking at the hotel. He tried +to hire a steam launch, for sooner or later in one of the harbours he +would be sure to come up with Wilbraham, if he only kept a sharp eye; +but steam launches are difficult to hire at this season of the year, +and in the end he had to content himself with chartering a ten-ton +cutter. He engaged one hand, by whose testimony the history of Ralph's +pursuit came to be known, and sailed out of Dartmouth to the west. He +sailed out in the morning, and coming to Salcombe ran over the bar on +the tail of the flood, but did not find his quarry there, and so beat +out again on the first of the ebb and reached past Bolt Head and Bolt +Tail, across Bigbury Bay with its low red rocks, to Plymouth. +Wilbraham had anchored in the Cattwater only two days before; the +yacht was a yawl, named the _Monitor_; and was making for the +Scillies. Warriner laughed when he picked up word about the +destination of the yacht, and thought it would be very appropriate if +he could overhaul the _Monitor_ somewhere off Rosevear. As to what +course he intended to pursue when he caught Wilbraham, he had no +settled plan; but on the other hand he had a new revolver in his +berth. + +He put out from Plymouth under a light breeze, which failed him +altogether when he was abreast of Rame Head. Through the rest of the +day he drifted with the tide betwixt Rame Head and Plymouth. The night +came upon him jewelled with stars, and a light mist upon the surface +of the water; all that night he swung up and down some four miles out +to sea within view of Plymouth lights, but towards morning, a fitful +wind sprang up, drove the cutter as far as Polperro, and left it +becalmed on a sea of glass, in front of the little white village in +the wooded cliff-hollow, while the sun rose. Warriner opened the +narrow line of blue water which marks the mouth of the Fowey river at +eleven o'clock of the morning, and anchored in Fowey harbour about +twelve. It was a Sunday, and though the _Monitor_ was not at Fowey, +Warriner determined to stay at his anchorage till the morrow. + +The Brixham fisherman who served him upon this cruise relates that +Warriner displayed no impatience or anxiety at any time. Of the +febrile instability which had set his thoughts flying this way and +that during the days of his companionship with Charnock, there was no +longer any trace in his demeanour. Perhaps it was that he was so +certain of attaining his desires; perhaps the long lesson of endurance +which he had been painfully taught in Morocco now bore its fruit; +perhaps too he had acquired something of the passive fatalism of the +Moorish race. During this Sunday afternoon, his last Sunday as it +proved, he quietly sculled the dinghy of his cutter, when the tide was +low, through the mud flats of the Fowey river to Lostwithiel; and +coming down again when the river was full, lay for a long time upon +his oars opposite a certain church that lifts above a clump of trees +on the river-bank. There he remained listening to the roll of the +organ and the sweet voices of the singers as they floated out through +the painted windows into the quiet of the summer evening; when the +service was over he bent to his sculls again and rowed back between +the steep and narrowing coppices, but it was dark before he turned the +last shoulder of hill and saw the long lines of riding-lights +trembling upon the water. + +Warriner raised his anchor early on the Monday morning, and having the +wind on his quarter, made Falmouth betimes. At Falmouth he learned +that the _Monitor_ had put out past St. Anthony's light only the day +before and had sailed westwards to Penzance. + +Warriner followed without delay, and when he was just past the Manacle +rocks, the wind dropped. With the help of the tide and an occasional +flaw of wind, he worked his cutter round the Lizard Point and laid her +head for Penzance across the bay; and it was then that the fog took +him. It crept out of the sea at about four of the afternoon, a thin +grey mist, and it thickened into a dense umber fog. + +The fog hung upon the Channel for thirty hours. The cutter swung into +the bay with the tide. The Brixham fisherman could hear all along, to +his right hand, the muffled roar as the groundswell broke upon the +Lizard rocks, and the sucking withdrawal which told that those rocks +were very near. The Lizard fog-horn, which sounded a minute ago +abreast of them, sounded now quite faintly astern. The boat swung with +the tide and would not steer; yet Warriner betrayed no alarm and no +impatience at the check. He sat on the deck with a lantern by his side +and drew, said the fisherman, a little flute or pipe from his pocket, +on which he played tunes that were no tunes, and from which he drew a +weird shrill music of an infinite melancholy and of infinite +suggestions. Once the Brixham man crouched suddenly by the gunwale and +peered intently over the boat's side. At a little distance off, +something black loomed through the fog about the height of the mast's +yard,--something black which rapidly approached. + +"It's not a squall," said Warriner, quietly interrupting his music. +"It's a rock. I know this coast well. We had better get the dinghy out +and row her head off." + +When that was done, he squatted again upon the deck by the side of the +lantern, and played shrilly upon his pipe while the light threw a +grotesque reflection of his figure upon the fog. + +After a while they heard the Lizard-horn abreast of them again. + +"The tide has turned," said Warriner, and the Brixham man dived +hurriedly into the well for the poor fog-horn which the boat carried. +The cutter drifted out stern-foremost past the Lizard rocks, and in a +little, from this side and from that, ahead of them, astern, they +heard the throb of engines and the hoarse steam-whistles of the +Atlantic cargo-boats and liners. They had drifted across the track of +the ocean-going steamers. The Brixham man blew upon his horn till his +lungs cracked. He relates that nothing happened until three o'clock in +the morning, as he knows, since Warriner just at three o'clock took +his watch from his pocket and looked at the dial by the lantern-light. +He mentions too, as a detail which struck him at the time, that the +door of the lantern was open, and so still was the heavy air that the +candle burnt steadily as in a room. At three o'clock in the morning he +suddenly saw a glimmering flash of white upon the cutter's beam. For a +fraction of a second he was dazed. Then he lifted the horn to his +mouth, and he was still lifting it--so small an interval was there of +time--when a huge sharp wedge cut through the fog and towered above +the cutter out of sight. The wedge was the bows of an Atlantic liner. +No one on that liner heard the despairing, interrupted moan of the +tiny fog-horn beneath the ship's forefoot; no one felt the shock. The +Brixham man was hurled clear of the steamer, and after swimming for +the best part of an hour was picked up by a smack which he came upon +by chance. Warriner's body was washed up three days later upon the +Lizard rocks. + +This history did not reach Charnock's ears for a full year afterwards; +for within a week of his arrival in London, where his unexplained +disappearance had puzzled very few, since he was known for a man of +many disappearances, he had started off to Asia Minor, there to survey +the line of a projected railway. The railway was never more than +projected, and after a year the survey was abandoned. Charnock +returned to London and heard the story of Warriner's death from Lady +Donnisthorpe's lips at her last reception at the end of the season. +Lady Donnisthorpe was irritated at the impassive face with which he +listened. She was yet more irritated when he said casually, without +any reference whatever to a word of her narrative, "Who is that girl? +I think I have seen her before." + +Lady Donnisthorpe followed the direction of his eyes, and saw a young +girl with very pale gold hair. Lady Donnisthorpe rose from her chair. +"Perhaps you would like me to introduce you," she said with sarcastic +asperity. + +"I should," replied Charnock. + +Lady Donnisthorpe waved her hands helplessly and brushed away all +mankind. She led Charnock across the room, introduced him, and left +him with a manner of extreme coldness, to which Charnock at this +moment was quite impervious. + +"I think I have seen you here before," said Charnock. + +"Yes," said the girl, "I remember. It was some while since. Why have +you quarrelled?" + +The meaning of that question dawned upon Charnock gradually. The girl +with the gold hair smiled at his perplexity, and laughed pleasantly at +his comprehension. + +Charnock looked round the room. + +"No," said she. + +He looked towards the window, and the window was open. + +"Yes," said the girl. + +Charnock found Miranda upon the balcony. + + + + THE END. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miranda of the Balcony, by +A. E. W. 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A Story.</title> +<meta name="Author" content="A. E. W. 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E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley) Mason + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Miranda of the Balcony + A Story + +Author: A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley) Mason + +Release Date: January 26, 2012 [EBook #38679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br> + +1. Page scan source:<br> +http://www.archive.org/details/mirandabalconya00masogoog</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY</h2> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>MIRANDA</h1> +<br> + +<h2>OF THE BALCONY</h2> +<br> + +<h3><i>A STORY</i></h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h5>BY</h5> +<br> +<h2>A. E. W. MASON</h2> + +<h5>AUTHOR OF "THE COURTSHIP OF MORRICE BUCKLER," ETC.</h5> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>New York<br> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br> +<span class="sc2">LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., <span class="sc2">Ltd.</span></span><br> +1899</h3> +<h5><i>All rights reserved</i></h5> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4><span class="sc2">Copyright, 1899</span>,<br> +By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</h4> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h5><i>Norwood Press</i><br> +<i>J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith</i><br> +<i>Norwood, Mass., U.S.A</i>.</h5> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_01" href="#div1_01">IN WHICH A SHORT-SIGHTED TAXIDERMIST FROM TANGIER MAKES A DISCOVERY +UPON ROSEVEAR.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_02" href="#div1_02">PRESENTS THE HERO IN THE UNHEROIC ATTITUDE OF A SPECTATOR.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER III</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_03" href="#div1_03">TREATS OF A GENTLEMAN WITH AN AGREEABLE COUNTENANCE AND OF A WOMAN'S +FACE IN A MIRROR.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER IV</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_04" href="#div1_04">TREATS OF THE FIRST MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER V</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_05" href="#div1_05">WHEREIN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA IMPROVE THEIR ACQUAINTANCESHIP IN A +BALCONY.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER VI</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_06" href="#div1_06">WHILE CHARNOCK BUILDS CASTLES IN SPAIN, MIRANDA RETURNS THERE.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER VII</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_07" href="#div1_07">IN WHICH MAJOR WILBRAHAM DESCRIBES THE STEPS BY WHICH HE ATTAINED HIS +MAJORITY AND GIVES MIRANDA SOME PARTICULAR INFORMATION.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER VIII</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_08" href="#div1_08">EXPLAINS THE MYSTERY OF THE "TARIFA'S" CARGO.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER IX</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_09" href="#div1_09">SHOWS THE USE WHICH A BLIND MAN MAY MAKE OF A DARK NIGHT.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER X</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_10" href="#div1_10">M. FOURNIER EXPOUNDS THE ADVANTAGES WHICH EACH SEX HAS OVER THE OTHER.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XI</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_11" href="#div1_11">IN WHICH MIRANDA ADOPTS A NEW LINE OF CONDUCT AND THE MAJOR EXPRESSES +SOME DISCONTENT.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XII</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_12" href="#div1_12">THE HERO, LIKE ALL HEROES, FINDS HIMSELF IN A FOG.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XIII</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_13" href="#div1_13">WHEREIN THE HERO'S PERPLEXITIES INCREASE.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XIV</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_14" href="#div1_14">MIRANDA PROFESSES REGRET FOR A PRACTICAL JOKE.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XV</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_15" href="#div1_15">IN WHICH THE MAJOR LOSES HIS TEMPER AND RECOVERS IT.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XVI</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_16" href="#div1_16">EXPLAINS WHY CHARNOCK SAW MIRANDA'S FACE IN HIS MIRROR.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XVII</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_17" href="#div1_17">SHOWS HOW A TOMBSTONE MAY CONVINCE WHEN ARGUMENTS FAIL.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XVIII</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_18" href="#div1_18">IN WHICH THE TAXIDERMIST AND A BASHA PREVAIL OVER A BLIND MAN.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XIX</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_19" href="#div1_19">TELLS OF CHARNOCK'S WANDERINGS IN MOROCCO AND OF A WALNUT-WOOD DOOR.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XX</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_20" href="#div1_20">CHARNOCK, LIKE THE TAXIDERMIST, FINDS WARRINER ANYTHING BUT A +COMFORTABLE COMPANION.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XXI</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_21" href="#div1_21">COMPLETES THE JOURNEYINGS OF THIS INCONGRUOUS COUPLE.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XXII</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_22" href="#div1_22">IN WHICH CHARNOCK ASTONISHES RALPH WARRINER.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XXIII</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_23" href="#div1_23">RELATES A SECOND MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA.</a></p> +<br> + +<h3>CHAPTER XXIV</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div1Ref_24" href="#div1_24">A MIST IN THE CHANNEL ENDS, AS IT BEGAN, THE BOOK.</a></P> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY</H1> +<br> + + + +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_01" href="#div1Ref_01">IN WHICH A SHORT-SIGHTED TAXIDERMIST FROM TANGIER MAKES A DISCOVERY +UPON ROSEVEAR</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">The discovery made a great stir amongst the islands, and particularly +at St. Mary's. In the square space before the Customs' House, on the +little stone jetty, among the paths through the gorse of the Garrison, +it became the staple subject of gossip, until another ship came ashore +and other lives were lost. For quit2e apart from its odd circumstances, +a certain mystery lent importance to Ralph Warriner. It transpired +that nearly two years before, when on service at Gibraltar, Captain +Warriner of the Artillery had slipped out of harbour one dark night in +his yacht, and had straightway disappeared; it was proved that +subsequently he had been dismissed from the service; and the coroner +of St. Mary's in a moment of indiscretion let slip the information +that the Home Office had requested him to furnish it with a detailed +history of the facts. The facts occurred in this sequence.</p> + +<p class="normal">At seven o'clock of a morning in the last week of July, the St. Agnes +lugger which carries the relief men to and fro between the Trinity +House barracks upon St. Mary's and the Bishop Lighthouse in the +Atlantic, ran alongside of St. Mary's pier. There were waiting upon +the steps, the two lighthouse men, and a third, a small rotund Belgian +of a dark, shiny countenance which seemed always on the point of +perspiring. He was swathed in a borrowed suit of oilskins much too +large for him, and would have cut a comical figure had he not on that +raw morning looked supremely unhappy and pathetic. M. Claude Fournier +was a taxidermist by profession and resided at Tangier; he was never +backward in declaring that the evidences of his skill decorated many +entrance-halls throughout Europe; and some three weeks before he had +come holiday-making alone to the islands of Scilly.</p> + +<p class="normal">He now stood upon the steps of the pier nervously polishing his +glasses as the lugger swung upwards and downwards on the swell. He +watched the relief men choose their time and spring on board, and just +as Zebedee Isaacs, the master of the boat, was about to push off with +his boat-hook, he nerved himself to speak.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I go with you to the Bishop, is it not?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Isaacs looked up in surprise. He had been wondering what had brought +the little man out in this dress and on this morning.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There'll be a head-wind all the way," he said discouragingly, "and +wi' that and a heavy ground sea we'll be brave an' wet before we reach +the Bishop, brave an' wet."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do not mind," replied M. Fournier. "For the sea, I am <i>dévot</i>;" but +his voice was tremulous and belied him.</p> + +<p class="normal">Isaacs shook his head.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's not only the sea. Look!" And he stretched out his arm. A +variable fog rolled and tumbled upon a tumbling wilderness of sea. +"I'ld sooner have two gales lashed together than sail amongst these +islands in a fog. I'ld never go to-day at all, but the boat's more'n +three weeks overdue."</p> + +<p class="normal">Indeed, as M. Fournier looked seawards, there was no glimpse of land +visible. A fortnight of heavy weather had been followed by a week of +fog which enveloped the islands like a drenched blanket. Only to-day +had it shown any signs of breaking, and the St. Agnes lugger was the +first boat, so far as was known, to run the hazard of the sea. It is +true that two days before one man had run in to the bar of +Tregarthen's Hotel and told how he had stood upon the top of the +Garrison and had looked suddenly down a lane between two perpendicular +walls of mist, and had seen the water breaking white upon Great Smith +Rock, and in the near distance an open boat under a mizzen and a jib, +beating out through the heavy swell towards the west. But his story +was in no wise believed.</p> + +<p class="normal">To all of Isaacs's objections M. Fournier was impervious, and he was +at last allowed to embark.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now!" cried Zebedee Isaacs, as the lugger rose. M. Fournier gave a +pathetic look backwards to the land, shut his eyes and jumped. Isaacs +caught and set him upon the floor of the boat, where he stood +clutching the runners. He saw the landing-steps dizzily rush past him +up to the sky like a Jacob's ladder, and then as dizzily shut +downwards below him like a telescope.</p> + +<p class="normal">The boat was pushed off. It rounded the pier-head and beat out on its +first tack, across the Road. M. Fournier crouched down under the +shelter of the weather bulwark.</p> + +<p class="normal">"As for the sea I am <i>dévot</i>," he murmured, with a watery smile.</p> + +<p class="normal">In a little the boat was put about. From Sour Milk Ledge it was sailed +on the port tack towards Great Minalto, and felt the wind and felt the +sea. It climbed up waves till the red lug-sail swung over M. +Fournier's head like a canopy; and on the downward slope the heavy +bows took the water with a thud. M. Fournier knelt up and clung to the +stays. At all costs he must see. He stared into the shifting fog at +the rollers which came hopping and leaping towards him; and he was +very silent and very still, as though the fascination of terror +enchained him.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the third tack, however, he began to resume his courage. He even +smiled over his shoulder towards Zebedee Isaacs at the tiller.</p> + +<p class="normal">"As for the sea," he began to say, "I am--" But the statement, which +he was not to verify on this day, ended in a shriek. For at that +moment a great green wave hopped exultingly over the bows, and +thenceforward all the way to the Bishop the lugger shipped much water.</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier's behaviour became deplorable. As Isaacs bluntly and +angrily summarised it, "he lay upon the thwarts and screeched like a +rook;" and in his appeals to his mother he was quite conventionally +French.</p> + +<p class="normal">He made no attempt to land upon the Lighthouse. The relief men were +hoisted up in the sling, the head-keeper and one of his assistants +were lowered, and the lugger started upon its homeward run before the +wind. The fog thickened and lightened about them as they threaded the +intricate channels of the western islands. Now it was a thin grey +mist, parting here and there in long corridors, driven this way and +that, twirling in spires of smoke, shepherded by the winds; now again +it hung close about them an impenetrable umber, while the crew in +short quick tones and gestures of the arms mapped out the rocks and +passages. About them they could hear the roar of the breaking waves +and the rush of water up slabs and over ledges, and then the "glumph +glumph" as the wave sucked away. At times, too, the fog lifted from +the surface and hung very low, massed above their heads, so that the +black hillocks of the islets stood out in the sinister light like +headstones of a cemetery of the sea, and at the feet of them the water +was white like a flash of hungry teeth.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was at one such moment, when the boat had just passed through +Crebawethan Neck, that M. Fournier, who had been staring persistently +over the starboard bulwark, suddenly startled the crew.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's a ship on shore. <i>Tenez</i>--look!" he cried. "There, there!" +And as he spoke the mist drove between his eyes and what he declared +that he saw.</p> + +<p class="normal">Zebedee Isaacs looked in the direction.</p> + +<p class="normal">"On Jacky's Rock?" he asked, nodding towards a menacing column of +black rock which was faintly visible.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, no--beyond!--There!" And M. Fournier excitedly gesticulated. He +seemed at that moment to have lost all his terror of the sea.</p> + +<p class="normal">"On Rosevear, then," said the keeper of the lighthouse, and he +strained towards Rosevear.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see nothing," he said, "and--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's nothing to see," replied Isaacs, who did not alter his +course.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But it's true," exclaimed the little Belgian. "I see it no more +myself. But I have seen it, I tell you. I have seen the mast above the +island--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You!" interrupted Isaacs, with a blunt contempt; "you are blind!" And +M. Fournier, before anyone could guess his intention, flung himself +upon Isaacs and jammed the tiller hard over to port. The boat came +broadside to the wind, heeled over, and in a second the water was +pouring in over the gunwale. Zebedee wrenched the main sheet off the +pin, and let the big sail fly; another loosed the jib. The promptitude +of these two men saved the boat. It ran its head up into the wind, +righted itself upon its keel, and lay with flapping sails and +shivered.</p> + +<p class="normal">Isaacs without a word caught hold of M. Fournier and shook him like a +rat; and every man of the crew in violent tones expounded to the +Belgian the enormity of his crime. Fournier was himself well-nigh +frantic with excitement. He was undaunted by any threats of violence; +neither the boat, nor the sea, nor the crew had any terrors for him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is a ship!" he screamed. "The fog was vanished--just for a +second it was vanished, and I have seen it. There may be men alive on +that rock--starving, perishing, men of the sea like you. You will not +leave them. But you shall not!" And clinging to the mast he stamped +his feet. "But you shall not!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"And by the Lord he's right," said the lighthouse-keeper, gravely--so +gravely that complete silence at once fell upon the crew. One man +stood up in the bows, a second knelt upon the thwarts, a third craned +his body out beyond the stern, and all with one accord stared towards +Rosevear. The screen of haze was drawn aside, and quite clear to the +view over a low rock, rose the mast and tangled cordage of a wreck.</p> + +<p class="normal">The sheets were made fast without a word. Without a word, Zebedee +Isaacs put the boat about and steered it into the Neck between +Rosevear and Rosevean. As they passed along that narrow channel, no +noise was heard but the bustle of the tide. For at the western end +they saw the bows of a ship unsteadily poised upon a ledge. There was +a breach amidships, the stern was under water, only the foremast +stood; and nowhere was there any sign of life.</p> + +<p class="normal">Isaacs brought the boat to in a tiny creek, some distance from the +wreck.</p> + +<p class="normal">"We can land here," he said, and the lighthouse-keeper and Fournier +stepped ashore.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the instant that quiet, silent islet whirred into life and noise. +So startling was the change that M. Fournier jumped backwards while +his heart jerked within him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's that?" he cried, and then laughed as he understood. For a +cloud of puffins, gulls, kittiwakes and shearwaters whirled upwards +from that nursery of sea-birds and circled above his head, their cries +sounding with infinite melancholy, their wings flickering like silver +in that grey and desolate light.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's so like your Robinson Crusoe," said M. Fournier.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is more like our islands of Scilly," said the lighthouse-keeper, +as he looked towards the wreck.</p> + +<p class="normal">They climbed over the low rocks and walked along the crown of the +island towards the wreck. There was no tree or shrub upon the +barren soil, only here a stretch of sandy grass, there a patch of +mallows--mallows of a rusty green and whitened with salt of the sea. +In the midst of one such patch they came upon the body of a man. He +was dressed in a pilot coat, sea boots and thick stockings drawn over +his trousers to the hips, and he lay face downwards with his head +resting upon his arms in a natural posture of sleep.</p> + +<p class="normal">Fournier stood still. The lighthouse-keeper walked forward and tapped +the sleeper upon the shoulder. But the sleeper did not wake. The +lighthouse man knelt down and gently turned the man over upon his +back; as he did so, or rather just before he did so, Fournier turned +sharply away with a shudder. When the sailor was lying upon his back, +the keeper of the lighthouse started with something of a shudder too. +For the sailor had no face.</p> + +<p class="normal">The lighthouse man drew his handkerchief from his pocket and gently +covered the head. It seemed almost as if Fournier had been waiting, +had been watching, for this action. For he turned about immediately +and stood by the lighthouse-keeper's side. Above the lonely islet the +sea-birds circled and called; on the sea the mist was now no more than +a gauze, and through it the glow of the sun was faintly diffused.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Strange that, isn't it?" said the lighthouse-keeper, in a hushed +voice. "The sea dashed him upon the rocks and drew him down again and +threw him up again until it got tired of the sport, and so tossed him +here to lie quietly face downwards amongst the mallows like a man +asleep."</p> + +<p class="normal">Then he sat back upon his heels and measured the distance between the +mallows and the sea with some perplexity upon his forehead--and the +perplexity grew.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a long way for the sea to have thrown him," he said, and as +Fournier shifted restlessly at his side, he looked up into his face. +"Good God, man, but you look white," he said.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The sight is terrible," replied Fournier, as he wiped his forehead.</p> + +<p class="normal">The lighthouse-keeper nodded assent.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, it's a terrible place, the sea about these western islands," he +said. "Did you ever hear tell that there are sunken cities all the way +between here and Land's End, the sunken cities of Lyonnesse? Terrible +sights those cities must see. I often think of the many ships which +have plunged down among their chimneys and roof-tops--perhaps here a +great Spanish galleon with its keel along the middle of a paved square +and its poop overhanging the gables, and the fishes swimming in and +out of the cabins through the broken windows; perhaps there a big +three-decker like Sir Cloudesley Shovel's, showing the muzzles of +her silent guns; or a little steam-tramp of our own times, its iron +sides brown with rust, and God knows what tragedy hidden in its tiny +engine-room. A terrible place--these islands of Scilly, dwelling +amongst the seas, as the old books say--dwelling amongst the seas."</p> + +<p class="normal">He bent forward and unfastened the dead sailor's pilot jacket. Then he +felt in his pocket and drew out an oilskin case. This he opened, and +Fournier knelt beside him.</p> + +<p class="normal">There were a few letters in the case, which the two men read through. +They were of no particular importance beyond that they were headed +"Yacht The Ten Brothers," and they were signed "Ralph Warriner," all +of them except one. This one was a love-letter of a date six years +back. It was addressed to "Ralph," and was signed "Miranda."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Six years old," said the lighthouse-keeper. "For six years he has +carried that about with him, and now it will be read out in court to +make a sorry fun for people whom he never knew. That's hard on him, +eh? But harder on the woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">At the words, spoken in a low voice, M. Fournier moved uneasily and +seemed to wince. The lighthouse-keeper held the letter in his hands +and thoughtfully turned over its pages.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have a mind to tear it up, but I suppose I must not." He returned +the papers to the oilskin case, and going back to the boat called for +two of the crew to carry the body down. "Meanwhile," said he to +Fournier, "we might have a look at 'The Ten Brothers.'"</p> + +<p class="normal">They could not approach the bows of the ship, but overlooked them from +a pinnacle of rock. There was, however, little to be remarked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"She is an old boat, and she has seen some weather from the look of +her," said the lighthouse-keeper. That, indeed, was only to be +expected, for "The Ten Brothers" had been a trader before Ralph +Warriner bought her, and two years had elapsed between the night when +he slipped from Gibraltar Harbour, and the day when this boat came to +its last moorings upon Rosevear.</p> + +<p class="normal">The mist cleared altogether towards sunset. The sun shone out from the +edge of the horizon a ball of red fire, and the lugger ferried the +dead body back to St. Mary's over a sea which had the colour of +claret, and through foam ripples which sparkled like gold.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Miranda who wrote the love-letter was Miranda Warriner, Ralph +Warriner's wife. Miranda Bedlow she had been at the date which headed +the letter. She was living now at Ronda in the Andalusian hills, a +hundred miles from Algeciras and Gibraltar, and had lived there since +her husband's disappearance. To Ronda the oilskin case was sent. She +heard the news of her Ralph's death with a natural sense of solemnity, +but she was too sincere a woman to assume a grief which she could not +feel. For her married life had been one of extraordinary unhappiness.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_02" href="#div1Ref_02">PRESENTS THE HERO IN THE UNHEROIC ATTITUDE OF A SPECTATOR</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">It was Lady Donnisthorpe who two years later introduced Luke Charnock +to Mrs. Warriner. Lady Donnisthorpe was an outspoken woman with an +untameable passion for match-making, which she indulged with the +ardour and, indeed, the results of an amateur chemist. Her life was +spent in mingling incompatible elements and producing explosions to +which her enthusiasm kept her deaf, even when they made a quite +astonishing noise. For no experience of reverses could stale her +satisfaction when she beheld an eligible bachelor or maid walk for the +first time into her parlour.</p> + +<p class="normal">She had made Charnock's acquaintance originally in Barbados. He sat +next her at a dinner given by the Governor of the Island, and took her +fancy with the pleasing inconsistency of a boyish appearance and a +wealth of experiences. He was a man of a sunburnt aquiline face, which +was lean but not haggard, grey and very steady eyes, and a lithe, tall +figure, and though he conveyed an impression of activity, he was still +a restful companion. Lady Donnisthorpe remarked in him a modern +appreciation of the poetry of machinery, and after dinner made +inquiries of the Governor.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He is on his way homewards from Peru," answered the latter. "He has +been surveying for a railway line there during the last two years. +What do you think of him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I want to know what you think."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I like him. He is modest without diffidence, successful without +notoriety."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What are his people?" asked Lady Donnisthorpe.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't believe he has any. But I believe his father was a clergyman +in Yorkshire."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It would sound improper for a girl without visible relations to say +that she was the daughter of a clergyman in Yorkshire, wouldn't it?" +said her ladyship, reflectively. "But I suppose it's no objection in a +man;" and in her memories she made a mark against Charnock's name. She +heard of him again once or twice in unexpected quarters from the lips +of the men who from East to West are responsible for the work that is +done; and once or twice she met him, for she was a determined +traveller. Finally, at Cairo, she sat next to Sir John Martin, the +head partner of a great Leeds firm of railway contractors.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did you ever come across a Mr. Charnock?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">The head partner laughed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I did; I knew his father."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a strange thing about Mr. Charnock," said she, "but one never +hears anything of what he was doing before the last few years."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why not ask him?" said the North-countryman, bluntly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It might sound inquisitive," replied Lady Donnisthorpe, "and perhaps +there's no need to, if you know."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, I know," returned Sir John, with a great deal of provoking +amusement, "and, believe me, Lady Donnisthorpe, it's not at all to his +discredit."</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe began thereafter to select and reject possible wives +for Charnock, and while still undecided, she chanced to pass one +December through Nice. The first person whom she saw in the vestibule +of the hotel was Luke Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What in the world are you doing here?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Taking a week's holiday, Lady Donnisthorpe. I have been in Spain for +the last two years, and shall be for the next nine months."</p> + +<p class="normal">"In Spain?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am making a new line between Cadiz and Algeciras."</p> + +<p class="normal">"God bless the man, and I never thought of it!" exclaimed Lady +Donnisthorpe. "I think you will do," she added, looking him over, and +nodding her head.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hope so," replied Charnock, cheerfully. "It's a big lift for me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"In a way, no doubt," agreed her ladyship. "Though, mind you, the land +isn't what it was."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The railway will improve it," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">They happened to be talking of different subjects. Lady Donnisthorpe +pursued her own.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you won't be in England for a year?" she said regretfully.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The company building the line is an English one," replied Charnock. +"I shall have to see the directors in June. I shall be in London +then."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you must come and see me. Write before you leave Spain. +Promise!" said Lady Donnisthorpe, who was now elated.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock promised, and that day Lady Donnisthorpe wrote to her cousin, +Miranda Warriner, at Ronda, who was now at the end of the first year +of her widowhood, and of the third year of her ridiculous seclusion at +that little hill-town of Spain. Miranda was entreated, implored, and +commanded to come to London in May. There was the season, there was +Miranda's estate in Suffolk, which needed her attention. Miranda +reluctantly consented, and so Lady Donnisthorpe was the instrument by +which Charnock and Mrs. Warriner became acquainted. But the +foundations of that acquaintanceship were laid without her ladyship's +agency, and indeed without the knowledge of either Charnock or +Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">A trifling defect in the machinery of a P. and O. boat began it. The +P. and O. stayed for four days at Aden to make repairs, and so +Charnock had four days to wait at Gibraltar before he could embark for +England. He did not, however, spend more than two of those four days +at Gibraltar, but picking up a yellow handbill in the lounge of the +hotel, he obeyed its advice, and crossing the sunlit straits early the +next morning saw the jealous hills about Tangier unfold and that +cardboard city glitter down to the sea.</p> + +<p class="normal">He was rowed ashore to the usual accompaniment of shouts and yells by +a villainous boat's crew of Arabs. A mob of Barbary Jews screamed at +him on the landing-stage, and then a Moorish boy with a brown roguish +face who was dressed in a saffron jellabia, pushed his way forwards +and in a conversational voice said, "You English? God damn you, give +me a penny!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock hired that boy, and under his guidance sauntered through +Tangier where the East and the West rub shoulders, where the camel +snarls in the Sôk with an electric arc-lamp for a night-light, and all +the races and all the centuries jostle together in many colours down +the cobbles of its narrow streets. Charnock was shown the incidentals +of the Tangier variety entertainment: the Basha administering more or +less justice for less or more money at his Palace gate; the wooden +peep-hole of the prison where the prisoners' hands come through and +clutch for alms; a dancing-room where a Moorish woman closely veiled +leaned her back against a Tottenham Court Road chest of drawers under +a portrait of Mrs. Langtry, and beat upon a drum while another stamped +an ungainly dance by the light of a paraffin lamp; and coming out +again into the sunlight, Charnock cried out, "Hamet, take me somewhere +where it's clean, and there's no din, and there are no smells."</p> + +<p class="normal">Hamet led the way up the hills, and every now and then, as he passed a +man better dressed than his fellows he would say in a voice of awe:</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's a rich." He invariably added, "He's a Juice."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Look here, Hamet," said Charnock, at length, "can't you show me a +rich who isn't a Jew?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"These are the loryers," observed Hamet, after the fashion of the +March Hare when posed with an inconvenient question. He pointed to a +number of venerable gentlemen in black robes who sat in wooden hutches +open to the street. "I will show you," he continued, "a Moor who was +the richest man in all Tangier."</p> + +<p class="normal">The pair walked up out of the town towards the Mazan, and came to a +lane shadowed by cedars and bordered with prickly pears. Here the +resounding din of the streets below was subdued to a murmurous +confusion of voices, from which occasionally a sharp cry would spirt +up clear into the air like a jet of water. Only one voice was definite +and incessant, and that voice came down to them from the trees higher +up the lane--a voice very thin, but on that hot, still afternoon very +distinct--a voice which perpetually quavered and bleated one +monotonous invocation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hassan Akbar," said Hamet.</p> + +<p class="normal">The invocation became articulate as they ascended. "Allah Beh!" the +voice cried, and again "Allah Beh!" and again, until the windless air +seemed to vibrate with its recurrence.</p> + +<p class="normal">They came upon the Moor who uttered this cry at the gate of the +Moorish cemetery. A white, stubbly beard grew upon his chin and lips, +but his strength was not diminished by his years, and with every +movement of his body the muscles beneath the tough skin of his bare +legs worked like live things. He sat cross-legged in the dust with a +filthy sack for his only garment; he was blind, and his eyes stared +from their red sockets covered with a bluish film as though the +colours of the eyeballs had run.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Allah Beh!" he cried, swaying his body backwards and forwards with +the regularity of an automaton and an inimitable quickness. He paid no +heed whatever to Charnock and the boy as they halted beside him. +"Allah Beh!" he cried, and his chest touched the cradle of his knees. +He marked the seconds with the pendulum of his body; he struck them +with his strident invocation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He was the richest man in Tangier," said Hamet, and he told Hassan +Akbar's story as though it was an affair of every day. Hassan had not +secured the protection of any of the European Legations. He had hoped +to hide his wealth by living poorly, and though he owned a house worth +three thousand dollars in Tangier, he did not dwell in it. But no +concealments had availed him. Someone of his familiars had told, and +no doubt had made his profit from the telling. The Basha had waited +his opportunity. It came when blindness left Hassan defenceless. Then +the Basha laid hands upon him, forced him to give up the gains of a +lifetime's trade, and so cast him out penniless to beg for copper +flouss at the gate of the cemetery.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And Europe's no more than seven miles away," cried Charnock. Even +where he stood he could see the laughing water of the Straits, and +beyond that, the summit of Gibraltar. "Who was it that told?" he +asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That is not known."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock dropped some money into the blind man's lap, but Hassan did +not cease from his prayer to thank him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He is very strong," said Hamet, who saw nothing strange in the story +he had told. "He swings like this all day from seven in the morning to +five at night. He never stops." And at that moment, upon the heels of +Hamet's words, as though intentionally to belie them, Hassan Akbar +suddenly arrested the motion of his body and suddenly ceased from his +pitiable cry.</p> + +<p class="normal">His silence and immobility came with so much abruptness that Charnock +was fairly startled. Then Hamet held up a finger, and they both +listened. Maybe the blind man was listening too, but Charnock could +not be certain. His face was as blind as his eyes, and there was no +expression in the rigid attitude of his body.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock heard a faint sound higher up the lane. The sound became +louder and defined itself. It was the slap-slap of a pair of Moorish +slippers. Charnock drew Hamet back by the trunk of a tree, which +sheltered them both from the view of anyone who came down the hill. He +left the lane free, and into the open space there came a man who wore +the dress of a Moor of wealth, serwal, chamir, farajia, and haik, +spotless and complete. In figure he was slight and perhaps a trifle +under the middle height, and the haik was drawn close over his +forehead to shield him from the sun.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan was seated in the dust with the sun beating full upon his head. +In front of him the newcomer stopped. "Peace be with you," he said, as +Charnock, who had some knowledge of Arabic, understood. But the beggar +made no answer, nor gave any sign that he heard. He sat motionless, +impassive, a secret figure of stone.</p> + +<p class="normal">The newcomer laughed lightly to himself, and the laughter, within view +of the rags and misery of the once rich man, sounded unpleasant and +callous. Hamet shifted a foot at Charnock's side, and Charnock, whose +interest in this picturesque encounter was steadily growing, pressed a +hand upon the boy's shoulder to restrain him.</p> + +<p class="normal">The stranger, however, had noticed neither of the two spectators. He +was still laughing softly to himself as he watched the beggar, and in +a little he began to hum between his teeth a tune--a queer, elusive +tune of a sweet but rather mournful melody; and it seemed to Charnock +by some indefinable hint of movement that Hassan Akbar was straining +his ears to catch and register that tune.</p> + +<p class="normal">The stranger advanced to Hassan and dropped a coin in his lap. The +coin was not copper, for it sparkled in the air as it fell. Then with +another easy laugh he turned to go down into Tangier. But as he turned +he saw Charnock watching him. On the instant his hand went to his hood +and drew it close about his cheeks, but not before Charnock had seen a +scared face flashed at him for a moment, and immediately withdrawn. +The Moor went down the lane.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps it was he who told?" said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hamet disagreed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He would not know. His beard was fair, so he comes from Fez." +Charnock, too, had remarked that the man was fair-haired. But +nevertheless this encounter of the rich Moor and the beggar remained +in his thoughts, and he allowed his imagination lazily to fix a +picture of it in his mind. Thus occupied, he walked through the +cemetery, taking in that way a short cut to the Sôk. But he was not +half-way across the cemetery when he turned sharply towards Hamet.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you remember the tune the Moor hummed?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock's ear was slow to retain the memory of music. Hamet, however, +promptly whistled the melody from beginning to end, while Charnock +stood and took count of it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I shall have forgotten it to-morrow," said Hamet.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think now that I shall recollect it tomorrow," said Charnock, and +he walked on.</p> + +<p class="normal">But in a moment or two he stopped again as though some new perplexity +was present to his mind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hamet," he said, "before the Moor appeared at all, while his +footsteps were still faint, certainly before he spoke, Hassan Akbar +stopped his prayer, which you say he never stops. He knew then who was +coming. At all events he suspected. How did he know? How did he +suspect?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is the Sôk," replied Hamet.</p> + +<p class="normal">They had passed round the bend of the hill up which the cemetery +slopes, and were come within view of the market-place. Charnock was +puzzled by his unanswered question, and the question was forced to his +notice again that afternoon, and with yet greater force.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was market-day. Charnock beheld stretched out beneath him a great +field, or rather a great plain, (for the grass was long since trampled +into mud,) which curved down to the yellow sun-baked wall of the city, +and whereon an innumerable throng, Negroes from Timbuctoo, Arabs, +Jews, and Moors, in all manner of raiment, from rags to coloured +robes, jostled and seethed, bawled and sweated, under a hot sun and in +a brilliant air. Here an old hag screamed aloud the virtues of her +merchandise, a few skinny onions and vegetables; there two men forced +a passage with blows of their sticks, and behind them a stately train +of camels brought in from the uplands their loads of dates. A Riffian +sauntered by with an indifferent air, his silver-mounted gun upon his +back, a pair of pistols in his belt, and a great coarse tail of hair +swinging between his shoulders. He needed no couriers to prepare his +way. At one spot a serpent-charmer thrust out his tongue, from which a +snake was hanging by the fangs; at another a story-teller, vivid in +narration, and of an extraordinary aptness in his gestures, held an +audience enchained. From every side the din of human voices rose into +the air, and to the din was added the snarling of camels, the braying +of donkeys, the bleating of sheep, the lowing of oxen, and all manner +of squeals and grunts, so that it seemed the whole brute creation had +combined to make one discordant orchestra.</p> + +<p class="normal">Into this Babel Charnock descended.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Those are the shoemakers," said Hamet. He pointed to a cluster of +tiny grimed gunny-bag tents in a corner of the highest part of the +Sôk. In the doorways of the tents a few men sat cobbling; one or two +wood fires crackled in the intervals between the tents; and in close +proximity a dead mule took its last unsavoury sleep.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hassan Akbar sleeps in the mud near to the tents," continued Hamet. +"Every evening he comes down to the Sôk, buys milk and bread from the +shoemakers, and sleeps--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Near to that mule!" interrupted Charnock. "And he was the richest man +in all Tangier."</p> + +<p class="normal">A moment later there was shown to him the second picture which he was +to carry away from Tangier. Down the Sôk, through the crowd, came the +Moor, in his spotless robes, and a few yards behind him, striding +swiftly and noiselessly, the blind gaunt beggar of the cemetery gate +followed upon his trail. In and out amongst the shifting groups he +threaded and wound, and never erred in his pursuit. The man in whose +track he kept never spoke when all were shouting, yet Hassan never +faltered. The sound of his footsteps was lost in a multitude of the +like sounds, yet Hassan was somehow sensible of it, somehow to his +ears it emerged distinct.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was amazed; in a way too he was chilled. It seemed uncanny +that this sightless creature of the impassive face should be able to +follow, follow, follow relentlessly, unswervingly, one silent man +amongst the noisy hundreds. Charnock walked for a few yards by Hassan +Akbar's side, keeping pace with him. Even with his eyes fixed upon the +Moor in front, even though he saw his feet tread the ground, he could +not distinguish his footfalls. How then could Hassan?</p> + +<p class="normal">Tracker and Tracked passed from the Sôk under the archway of the gate, +and Charnock dismissing Hamet walked down towards his hotel near the +waterside. However, he missed his road. He turned through the horse +market, descended the steep street, past the great Mosque, and walked +along a narrow, crooked alley between blank and yellow walls, which +ended in a tunnel beneath over-arching houses. Almost within the mouth +of this tunnel there was a shop, or so it seemed, for a stuffed jackal +swung above the door as a sign. Before this shop Charnock halted with +a thrill of excitement. The door of the shop was shut, the unglazed +window was shuttered. It was not on that account that Charnock +stopped; but underneath the shuttered window, his head almost touching +the sill, Hassan squatted on the cobbles fingering now and then a +silver dollar.</p> + +<p class="normal">Inside the door a bolt grated, the door opened, and a stout, +undersized European appeared in the entrance, polished a pair of +glasses, set them upon his nose, glanced up and down the street, +closed the door behind him, and taking no heed whatever of the blind +man under his window, walked briskly into the tunnel. He walked with a +short, tripping, and jaunty step.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock waited while the echo of it diminished and ceased, and the +moment it had ceased he saw Hassan, without any hurry, without any +sign of expectation or excitement, rise slowly to his feet and move +along the house wall towards the door. His right elbow scraped the +plaster; then his elbow touched nothing. He had come to the recess of +the door, and he stopped.</p> + +<p class="normal">It flashed upon Charnock that he had not heard the bolt again grate +into its socket. The door was then only latched and--was Hassan's +quarry behind its panels?</p> + +<p class="normal">The affair had ceased to be a toy with which Charnock's imagination +could idly play. He strode across the alley and planted himself face +to face with Hassan. Hassan quietly and immediately murmured a request +for alms and stretched out his left hand, a supple, corded hand, with +long sinuous fingers, a hand of great strength. But as he spoke he +drew within the recess of the door, and Charnock noticed his right +hand steal up the panels feeling for the latch.</p> + +<p class="normal">Made by this seemingly passionless and apathetic man, the secret +movement shocked Charnock. It seemed to him at that moment so +cold-blooded as to be almost inhuman.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Look out!" he shouted through the door and in broad English, +forgetting that the man for whom his warning was intended was a Moor. +But the warning had its effect. There was a heavy blow upon the door, +as though a man's shoulder lurched against it, and then the bolt +grated into the socket. Hassan Akbar walked on repeating his prayer +for alms, as if his hand had never for an instant stolen up the panel +and felt for the latch.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock, to make his warning the more complete, rapped on the door +for admission, once, twice, thrice. But he got no answer. He leaned +his ear to the panel. He could detect not so much as a foot stirring. +Absolute silence reigned in that dark and shuttered room.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock walked back to his hotel. On the way he passed the end of the +pier, where he saw the little Frenchman bargaining with the owner of a +felucca. His excitement gradually died down. It occurred to him that +there might have been no grounds at all for any excitement. Hassan +Akbar might have been following through the Sôk by mere accident. He +might have tried the door in pursuit of nothing more than alms; and in +a little the whole incident ceased to trouble his speculations. He +crossed the Straits to Gibraltar the next morning, and waited there +for two days until the P. and O. came in. It was on the P. and O. that +he first fell in with Major Wilbraham.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_03" href="#div1Ref_03">TREATS OF A GENTLEMAN WITH AN AGREEABLE COUNTENANCE, AND OF A +WOMAN'S FACE IN A MIRROR</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">Major Ambrose Wilbraham had embarked at Marseilles, and before the +boat reached Gibraltar he had made the acquaintance of everyone on +board, and had managed to exchange cards with a good many. The steamer +was still within sight of Gibraltar when he introduced himself to +Charnock with a manner of effusive jocularity to which Charnock did +not respond. The Major was tall and about forty years of age. A thin +crop of black hair was plastered upon his head; he wore a moustache +which was turning grey; his eyebrows were so faultlessly regular that +they seemed to have been stencilled on his forehead, and underneath +them a pair of cold beady eyes counterfeited friendliness. Charnock +could not call to mind that he had ever met a man on whom geniality +sat with so ill a grace, or one whose acquaintance he less desired to +improve.</p> + +<p class="normal">Major Wilbraham, however, was not easily rebuffed, and he walked the +deck by Charnock's side, talkative and unabashed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Off the coast of Portugal the boat made bad weather, and she laboured +through the cross-seas of the Bay under a strong south-westerly wind. +Off Ushant she picked up a brigantine which Charnock watched from the +hurricane deck without premonition, and indeed without more than a +passing curiosity.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Fine lines, eh, Charnock old fellow!" said a voice at his elbow.</p> + +<p class="normal">The brigantine dipped her head into a roller, lifted it, and shook the +water off her decks in a cascade of snow.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have seen none finer," answered Charnock, "except on a racing-yacht +or a destroyer."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She's almost familiar to me," speculated the Major.</p> + +<p class="normal">"She reminds me of some boats I saw once at the West Indies," returned +Charnock, "built for the fruit-trade, and so built for speed. Only +they were schooners--from Salcombe, I believe. The Salcombe clippers +they were called."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said the Major, with a sharp interest, and he leaned forward +over the rail. "Now I wonder what her name is."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock held a pair of binoculars in his hand. He gave them to the +Major. Wilbraham raised them to his eyes while the P. and O. closed +upon the sailing-boat. The brigantine slid down the slope of a wave +and hoisted her stern.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The 'Tarifa,'" said the Major, and he shut up the binoculars. "What +is her tonnage, do you think?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"About three hundred, I should say."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My notion precisely. Would it be of any advantage to alter her rig, +supposing that she was one of the Salcombe schooners?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should hardly think so," replied Charnock. "I rather understood +that the schooners were noted boats."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah, that's interesting," said Wilbraham, and he returned the +binoculars. The steamer was now abreast of the brigantine, and in a +little it drew ahead.</p> + +<p class="normal">"By the way, Charnock, I shall hope to see more of you," resumed Major +Wilbraham. "I haven't given you a card, have I?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He produced a well-worn card-case.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's very kind of you," said Charnock, as he twirled the card between +his forefinger and his thumb. "Don't you," he added, "find cards +rather a heavy item in your expenses?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Major Wilbraham laughed noisily.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I take you, dear friend," he exclaimed, "I take you. But a friend in +this world, sir, is a golden thread in a very dusty cobweb."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But the friendship is rather a one-sided arrangement," rejoined +Charnock. "For instance, the cards you give, Major Wilbraham, bear no +address, the cards you receive, do." And while showing the card to his +companion, he inadvertently dropped it into the sea.</p> + +<p class="normal">Major Wilbraham blamed the negligence of a rascally printer, and made +his way to the smoking-room.</p> + +<p class="normal">The P. and O. boat touched at Plymouth the next morning, and landed +both Major Wilbraham and Charnock. The latter remained in Plymouth for +two days, and on the morning of the third day hired a hansom cab, and +so met with the last of those incidents which were to link him in such +close, strange ties with the fortunes of men and women who even in +name were then utterly unknown to him.</p> + +<p class="normal">A yellow handbill had led Charnock across the Straits to Tangier, and +now it was nothing more serious than a draft upon Lloyd's bank which +took him in a hansom cab through the streets of Plymouth. Spring was +in the air; Charnock felt exceedingly light-hearted and cheerful. On +the way he unconsciously worked his little finger into the eye of the +brass bracket which juts inwards on each side of the front window at +the level of the shoulder; and when the cab stopped in front of the +bank he discovered that his finger was securely jammed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Across the road he noticed a chemist's shop, and descending the steps +of the bank a fair-haired gentleman of an agreeable countenance, who, +quite appropriately in that town of sailors, had something of a +nautical aspect.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Sir," began Charnock, politely, as he leaned out of the window, "I +shall be much obliged--"</p> + +<p class="normal">To Charnock's surprise the good-natured gentleman precipitately sprang +down the steps and began to walk rapidly away. Charnock was +sufficiently human and therefore sufficiently perverse to become at +once convinced that although there were others passing, this reluctant +man was the only person in the world who could and must help him from +his predicament.</p> + +<p class="normal">So he leaned yet farther out of the cab.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hi, you sir!" he shouted, "you who are running away!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The words had an electrical effect. The man of the agreeable +countenance stopped suddenly, and so stood with his back towards +Charnock while gently and thoughtfully he nodded his head. It seemed +to Charnock that he might perhaps be counting over the voices with +which he was familiar.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well," cried Charnock, who was becoming exasperated, "my dear sir, am +I to wait for you all day?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The street was populous with the morning traffic of a business +quarter. Curious people stopped and attracted others. In a very few +moments a small crowd would have formed. The stranger thereupon came +slowly back to the hansom, showing a face which was no longer +agreeable. He set a foot upon the step of the cab, and fixed a blue +and watchful eye upon Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am afraid," said the latter, with severity, "that my first +impression of you was wrong."</p> + +<p class="normal">An indescribable relief was expressed by the other, but he spoke with +surliness.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You mistook me for someone else?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I mistook your disposition for something else," Charnock affably +corrected. "I expected to find you a person of great good-nature."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You hardly made such a point of summoning a perfect stranger," and +here the blue eyes became very wary, "for no other reason than to tell +him that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Certainly not," returned Charnock; "I would not trespass upon your +time, which seems to be extremely valuable, without a better reason. +But my finger is fixed, as you can see, in this brass ring, and I +cannot withdraw it. So if you would kindly cross over to the chemist +and buy me a pennyworth of vaseline, I shall be more than obliged." +And with the hand which was free he felt in his pocket for a penny and +held it out.</p> + +<p class="normal">A look of utter incredulity showed upon the listener's face.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you mean to tell me--" he blurted out.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That I ask you to be my good Samaritan? Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">The stranger's face became suddenly vindictive. "Vaseline!" he cried.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A pennyworth," said Charnock, again offering the penny.</p> + +<p class="normal">The man of the agreeable countenance struck Charnock's hand violently +aside, and the penny flew into a gutter. He stood up on the step and +thrust his face, which was now inflamed with fury, into the cab.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I tell you what," he cried, "you are a fair red-hotter, you are. Buy +you vaseline! I hope your finger will petrify. I hope you'll just sit +in that cab and rot away in your boots, until you have to ante up in +kingdom come." He added expletives to his anathema.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Really," said Charnock, "if I was a lady I don't think that I should +like to listen to you any longer."</p> + +<p class="normal">But before Charnock had finished the sentence, the good Samaritan, who +was no Samaritan at all, had flung himself from the cab and was +striding up the street.</p> + +<p class="normal">"After all," thought Charnock, "I might just as well have driven +across to the chemist, if I had only thought of it."</p> + +<p class="normal">This he now did, got his finger free, cashed his draft, and took the +train to London.</p> + +<p class="normal">During this journey the discourteous stranger occupied some part of +his thoughts. Between Charnock's eyes and the newspaper, against the +red cliffs of Teignmouth, on the green of the home counties, his face +obtruded, and for a particular reason. The marks of fear are +unmistakable. The man whom he had called, had been scared by the call, +nor had his fear quite left him when he had come face to face with +Charnock. Set features which strove to conceal, and a brightness of +the eye which betrayed emotion, these things Charnock remembered very +clearly.</p> + +<p class="normal">In London he dined alone at his hotel, and over against him the +stranger's face bore him company. He went out afterwards into the +street, and amidst the myriad ringing feet, was seized with an utter +sense of loneliness, more poignant, more complete, than he had ever +experienced in the waste places of the world. The lights of a theatre +attracted him. He paid his money, took a seat in the stalls, and was +at once very worried and perplexed. He turned to his neighbour, who +was boisterously laughing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Would you mind telling me what this play is?" he asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, it's a musical comedy."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see. But what is it about?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock's neighbour scratched his head thoughtfully.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I ought to remember," he said, "for I saw the piece early in the +run."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock went out, crossed a street, and came to another theatre, +where he saw a good half of the tragedy of <i>Macbeth</i>. Thence he +returned to his hotel and went to bed.</p> + +<p class="normal">The hotel was one of many balconies, situated upon the Embankment. +From the single window or his bedroom Charnock looked across the river +to where the name of a brewery perpetually wrote itself in red +brilliant letters which perpetually vanished. It was his habit to +sleep not merely with his window open, but with the blinds drawn up +and the curtains looped back, and these arrangements he made as usual +before he got into bed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now, the looking-glass stood upon a dressing-table in the window, with +its back towards the window-panes; and since the night was moonless +and dark, this mirror, it should be remembered, reflected nothing of +the room or its furniture, but presented only to the view of Charnock, +as he lay in bed, a surface of a black sheen.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock recurred to his adventure of the morning, and thus the +abusive stranger was in his thoughts when he fell asleep. He figured +also in his dreams.</p> + +<p class="normal">For, after he had fallen asleep, a curtain was raised upon a fantastic +<i>revue</i> of the past week. Hassan Akbar strode quickly and noiselessly +behind his quarry, tracking him by some inappreciable faculty, not +through the muddy Sôk, but across the polished floor of the ball-room +in the musical comedy. Again Charnock shouted "Look out!" and the Moor +with one bound leapt from the ball-room, which was now become a +landing-stage, into a felucca. The crew of the felucca, it now +appeared, was made up of Charnock, Lady Macbeth, and Hassan Akbar, and +by casting lots with counters made of vaseline, Charnock was appointed +to hold the tiller. This duty compelled extraordinary care, for the +felucca would keep changing its rig and the bulk of its hull swelled +and dwindled. At last, to Charnock's intense relief, the boat settled +into a Salcombe clipper with the rig of a P. and O., but with +immeasurably greater speed, so that within a very few seconds they +sailed over a limitless ocean and anchored at Tangier. At once the +crew entirely vanished. Charnock was not distressed, because he saw a +hansom cab waiting for him at the Customs, though how the hansom was +to pass up those narrow cobbled streets he could not think. That +however was the driver's business.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hope your horse is good," said Charnock, springing into the cab.</p> + +<p class="normal">"She comes of the great Red-hotter stock," replied the cabman, and +lifting the trap in the roof he showered packets of visiting cards, +which fell about Charnock like flakes of snow.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock had not previously noticed that the cabman was Major +Wilbraham.</p> + +<p class="normal">The cab shot up the hill through the tunnel, past the closed shop. A +figure sprang from the ground and thrust a face through the window of +the cab. The man was in Moorish dress, but the face was the face of +the abusive stranger of Plymouth--and all at once Charnock started up +on his elbow, and in the smallest fraction of a second was intensely +and vividly awake. There was no sound at all within the room. But in +the black sheen of the mirror he saw a woman's face.</p> + +<p class="normal">He saw it quite clearly for perhaps five seconds, the face rising +white from the white column of the throat, the dark and weighty +coronal of the hair, the curved lips which alone had any colour, the +eyes, deep and troubled, which seemed to hint a prayer for help which +they disdained to make--for five seconds perhaps the illusion +remained, for five seconds the face looked out at him from the black +mirror, lit palely, as it seemed, by its own pallor, and so vanished.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock remained propped upon his elbow. A faint twilight from the +stars crept timidly through the open window as though deprecating its +intrusion. Charnock looked into the dark corners of the room, but +nowhere did the darkness move. Nor could he hear any sound. Not even a +board of the floor cracked, and outside the door there was no noise of +a footstep on the stairs. Then from a great distance the jingle of a +cab came through the open window to his ears with a light +companionable lilt. Gradually the sound ceased, and again the silence +breathed about him. Charnock struck a match and looked at his watch. +It was a few minutes after three.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock lay back in his bed wondering. For he had seen that face +once, he had once exchanged glances with those eyes, once only, six +years ago, and thereafter had entirely forgotten the incident--until +this moment. He had stopped for a night at Monte Carlo and had +seen--the girl--yes, the <i>girl</i>, though it was a woman's face which +had gleamed in the depths of his mirror--standing under the green +shaded lamps in the big gambling-room. His attention, he now +remembered, had been seized by the contrast between her amused +indifference and the feverish haste of the gamblers about the table; +between her fresh, clear looks and their heated complexions,--even +between her frock of lilac silk and their more elaborate toilettes. +The girl was entirely happy then, the red lips smiled, the violet eyes +laughed. Why should her face appear to him now, after these years, and +paled by this distress?</p> + +<p class="normal">A queer fancy slipped into his mind--a fancy at the extravagance of +which he knew very well he should laugh in the sane light of the +morning, though he indulged it now--that somehow, somewhere, this +woman needed help, and that it was thus vouchsafed to her, a stranger, +to make her appeal to him in this way, which spared her the +humiliation of making any appeal at all. Charnock fell asleep +convinced that somehow, somewhere, he was destined to meet and know +her. As he had foreseen, he laughed at his fancies in the morning, but +nevertheless, he did meet her. It had, in fact, already been arranged +that he should. For the face which he saw in the mirror was the face +of Miranda Warriner.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_04" href="#div1Ref_04">TREATS OF THE FIRST MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe, with a sigh of relief, retired from her position at +the head of the stairs, and catching Charnock in the interval between +two dances:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"You kept some dances free," she said, "didn't you? I want to +introduce you to a cousin of mine, Miranda Warriner, because she lives +at Ronda."</p> + +<p class="normal">"At Ronda. Indeed?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes." Her ladyship added with a magnificent air of indifference, "She +is a widow," and she led Charnock across the ball-room.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda saw them approaching, noticed an indefinable air of +expectation in Lady Donnisthorpe's manner, and smiled. A few +excessively casual remarks concerning one Mr. Charnock, which Lady +Donnisthorpe had dropped during the last few days, had not escaped the +notice of Miranda, who was aware of her cousin's particular weakness. +This was undoubtedly Mr. Charnock. She raised her eyes towards him, +and had her ladyship been less fluttered, she might have remarked that +Miranda's eyes lit up with a momentary sparkle of recognition.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Warriner--Mr. Charnock."</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe effected the momentous introduction and felt +immediately damped. She had not indeed expected that her two newest +victims would at once and publicly embrace. But at all events she had +decked out her ball-room as the sacrificial altar, and had taken care +that a fitting company and cheerful music should do credit to the +immolation. This tame indifference was less than she deserved.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda, to whom Lady Donnisthorpe was looking, made the perfunctory +dip of the head and smiled the perfunctory smile, and Charnock--why in +the world did he not move or speak? Lady Donnisthorpe turned her eyes +from Miranda to this awkward cavalier, and was restored to a radiant +good-humour. "Dazzled," she said to herself, "absolutely dazzled!" For +Charnock stood rooted to the ground and tongue-tied with amazement.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was fortunate for Lady Donnisthorpe that at this point she thought +it wise to withdraw. Otherwise she would surely have remarked an +unmistakable look of disappointment which grew within Charnock's eyes +and spread out over his face. Then the disappointment vanished, and as +he compared programmes with Miranda, he recovered his speech.</p> + +<p class="normal">Four dances must intervene before he could claim her, and Charnock was +glad of the interval to get the better of his bewilderment. Here was +the woman whom his mirror had shown to him! After all, his nocturnal +fancy was fulfilled, or rather part of it, only part or it. He had met +her, he was to dance with her. Some miracle had brought them together. +From the corner by the doorway he watched Miranda, he remarked an +unaffected friendliness in her manner towards her partners. Candour +was written upon her broad white forehead and looked out from her +clear eyes. He had no doubt it was fragrant too in her hair. There +were heavy masses of that hair, as he knew very well from his mirror, +but now the masses were piled and woven about her head with a cunning +art, which to be sure they deserved. There was a ripple in her hair, +too, which caught the light--a most taking ripple. Here was a woman +divested of a girl's wiles and vanities. Charnock, without a scruple, +aspersed all girls up to the age of say twenty-four, that he might +give her greater praise.</p> + +<p class="normal">He fell to wondering, not how it was that her face had appeared to +him, nor by what miracle he was now enabled to have knowledge of her, +but rather by what miracle of forgetfulness he had allowed her face, +after he had seen it that one time six years ago, ever to slip from +his thoughts, or her eyes after that one time he had exchanged a +glance with them.</p> + +<p class="normal">The whirl of the dance carried her by his corner. She swung past him +with the lightest imaginable step, and he was suddenly struck through +and through with a chilling apprehension that by some unconscionable +maladroitness he would surely tread upon her toes.</p> + +<p class="normal">At once he proceeded to count over the dances in which he had borne +himself with credit. He had danced with Spanish women, he assured +himself, and they had not objected. He was thus consoling himself when +the time came for him to lead her out. And the touch of her hand in +his, he remembers, turned him into a babbling idiot.</p> + +<p class="normal">He recollects that they danced with great celerity; that they passed +Lady Donnisthorpe, who smiled at him with great encouragement, and +that he was dolefully humorous concerning Major Wilbraham and his +exchanges of cards, though why Major Wilbraham should have thrust his +bald head into the conversation, he was ever at a loss to discover. +And then Miranda said, "Shall we stop?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, I didn't, did I?" exclaimed the horror-stricken Charnock, as he +looked downwards at her toes.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, you didn't," Miranda assured him with a laugh. "Do you usually?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," he declared vehemently, "believe me, no! Never, upon my word! I +have danced with Spanish women,--not at all,--no--no--no--no."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite so," said Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">And they laughed suddenly each to the other, and in a moment they were +friends. Conversation came easily to their tongues, and underneath the +surface of their light talk, the deeps of character called steadily +like to like.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have seen you once before, Mrs. Warriner," said Charnock, as they +seated themselves in an alcove of the room.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," she returned promptly, "at Monte Carlo, six years ago," and her +face lost its look of enjoyment and darkened with some shadow from her +memories. The change was, however, unremarked by Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It seems strange," he said in an absent voice, "that we should meet +first of all in a gambling-room, and the next time at a ball."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The question could not be answered. Charnock had a real but +inexplicable feeling that Miranda and he should have met somewhere +amidst the grandeur of open spaces, in the centre of the Sahara, and +for the moment he forgot to calculate the effect of the sand upon +Miranda's eyes. This feeling, however, he could hardly express at the +present point of their acquaintanceship; and, indeed, he immediately +ceased to be aware of it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you actually remember our meeting in that way six years ago?" he +exclaimed. "How wonderful of you!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why?" again asked Mrs. Warriner. "Why is it wonderful, since you +remember it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah, but I didn't remember it until"--he paused for a second or +two--"until I saw your face in a looking-glass."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda glanced at him in considerable perplexity. Then she said with +a demure smile, "I have at times seen it there myself."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No doubt," he replied with a glance at the cunning arrangement of her +hair.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My maid does that," said she, biting her lip.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No doubt, but you sit in front of the glass at the time. You're in +the room," he continued hastily; "but when I saw your face in my +mirror, you couldn't be. I was in bed,--I mean,--let me tell you!" He +stopped, overwhelmed with embarrassment. Miranda, with an air of +complete unconsciousness, carefully buttoned her glove; only the glove +was already buttoned, and her mouth twitched slightly at the corners.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was just a week ago to-day," Charnock began again. "I got home to +my hotel late."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah!" murmured Mrs. Warriner, as though the whole mystery was now +explained to her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I assure you," he retorted with emphasis, "that I dined in the train +and drank nothing more serious than railway claret."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I made no accusation whatever," Miranda blandly remarked, and seemed +very well pleased.</p> + +<p class="normal">"After I had fallen asleep, I began to dream, but not about you, Mrs. +Warriner; that's the strange feature of the business. It wasn't that I +had been thinking of you that evening, or indeed, that I had ever been +at all in the habit of thinking--" Again Charnock was utterly +confused. "I don't seem to be telling the story with the best taste in +the world, do I?" he said ruefully.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Never mind," she said in a soothing voice.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course, I could have turned it into a compliment," he continued. +"Only I take it you have no taste for compliments, and I lack the +experience to put them tactfully."</p> + +<p class="normal">"For a novice," said she, "you seem to be doing very well." Charnock +resumed his story. "I dreamt solely of people I had seen, and +incidents I had witnessed during the last week, at Tangier and at +Plymouth. I dreamed particularly of a man I quarrelled with at +Plymouth, and I suddenly woke up and saw your face in the mirror."</p> + +<p class="normal">"As you fancied."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was no fancy. It was no dream-face that I saw--dream-faces are +always elusive. It was no dream-face, it was yours."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Or one like mine."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There cannot be two."</p> + +<p class="normal">"For a novice," repeated Miranda, with a smile, "you <i>are</i> doing very +well."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock had watched her carefully while he told his story, on the +chance that her looks, if not her lips, might give him some clue to +the comprehension of his mysterious vision. But she had expressed +merely an unconcerned curiosity and some amusement.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall I explain your vision?" said she. "You must have seen me in +London during the day: the recollection that you had seen me must have +lain latent, so that when you woke up you saw me in your mirror and +did not remember that you had seen me during the day."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Were you at any theatre this day week?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," said Miranda, after counting over the days.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You did not see <i>Macbeth</i> that night?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then it is impossible I should have seen you. For I came up from +Plymouth only that afternoon. I drove from Paddington to my hotel; +from the hotel I went to the theatre; from the theatre I walked back +to the hotel. It is impossible."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is very strange," said Miranda, whose interest was increasing, and +whose sense of amusement had vanished; for she saw that her companion +was moved by something more than curiosity. It was evident to her from +his urgent tones, from the eagerness of his face, that he had some +hidden reason for his desire to fathom the mystery. It seemed to her +that he nourished some intention, some purpose in the back of his +mind, which depended for fulfilment upon whether or no there was any +feasible solution.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Tell me your dream," she said.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was the oddest jumble,--it had neither sense nor continuity. Moors +figured in it, ships, Lady Macbeth, the Major with his card-case, and +the stranger who swore at me through the cab-window at Plymouth. The +phrases that man used came into it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What phrases?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I couldn't repeat to you the most eloquent. There were milder ones, +however. He called me a fair red-hotter amongst other things," said +Charnock, laughing at his recollections, "and expressed a wish that I +might--well, sit in that cab until I ante'd up in kingdom come."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda leaned back in her seat and opened and shut her fan. "He was a +stranger to you, you say?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are sure?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You had never seen him anywhere--anywhere? Think!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock deliberated for a few seconds. "Never anywhere," he replied.</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a moment's silence. Mrs. Warriner gently fanned herself as +she leaned back in the shadow of the alcove. "Describe him to me," she +said quietly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A man of a slight figure, a little under the middle height, fair +hair, bright blue eyes, an open, good-natured face, and I should say a +year or so under forty. I took him to be a sailor."</p> + +<p class="normal">The fan stopped. Miranda let it fall upon her lap. That was the only +movement which she made, and from the shadow of the recess, she said: +"There is no explanation."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock drew a breath and leaned forward, his hands clasped, his +elbows on his knees. It seemed he had been waiting for just that one +sentence. As he sat now his face was in the light, and Miranda +remarked a certain timidity upon it, as though now that he had heard +the expected words, he dared not after all reply to them. He did not +look towards her. He stared at the dancers, but with vacant eyes. He +saw nothing of their jewels, or their coloured robes, or the flash of +their silver feet, and the noise of their chatter sounded very dimly +in his ears. He was quite occupied, indeed, with the hardihood of what +he had it on his tongue's tip to say--when he had gained sufficient +courage.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda moved restlessly, unbuttoned a glove, drew it off her wrist +unconsciously, and then was still as Charnock began to speak.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is there no explanation?" he asked. "I imagined one. You know how +fancies come to one in the dark. That night I imagined one. I laughed +at it the next morning, but now, since I have talked with you, I have +been wondering whether by any miracle, it might be true. And if +there's an infinitesimal chance that it's true, I think that I ought +to tell you it, even though it may seem merely ridiculous, even though +it may offend you. But I have lived for the most part of my time, +since I was a man, in the waste places of the earth, and what may well +be an impertinence--for we are only these few minutes acquainted--you +will perhaps pardon on that account."</p> + +<p class="normal">He received no encouragement to continue; on the other hand he +received no warning to stop, for Miranda neither spoke nor moved. He +did not look at her face lest he should read the warning there; but +from the tail of his eye, he could see the fan, the white glove lying +idle upon the black satin of her dress. The skirt hung from her knee +to her foot without a stir in its folds, nor did her foot stir where +it showed beneath the hem. She remained in a pose of most enigmatical +quietude.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The face which my mirror showed to me," he went on, "was your face, +as I said; but in expression it was not your face as I see it +to-night. It was very troubled, it was very pale; the eyes haunted me +because of the pain in them, and because of--something else beside. It +was a tortured face I saw, and the eyes seemed to ask--but to ask +proudly--for help. Is it plain, the explanation which occurred to me?" +His voice sank; he went on, slowly choosing every word with care, and +speaking it with hesitation. "I imagined that out of all the millions +of women in the world, here was one who needed help--my help, who was +allowed to appeal to me for it, without, if you understand, making any +appeal at all, and the explanation was not ... unpleasant ... to a man +who lives much alone. In fact it has been so pleasant, and has become +so familiar during this last week, that when I saw you to-night +without a care, just as I saw you that night at Monte Carlo," and +indeed it seemed to Charnock that the black dress she wore alone +marked the passage of those six years,--"I am ashamed to say that I +was disappointed."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said Miranda. "I noticed the disappointment, but there's a +simpler explanation of the troubled face than yours. You had been to +<i>Macbeth</i> that evening; Lady Macbeth played a part in your dreams. +What if Lady Macbeth lent her pallor and her distress to the face +which you saw in your mirror?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock swung abruptly round towards her. It was not the explanation +which surprised him, but the altered voice she used. And if her voice +surprised him, he was shocked and startled by her looks. She was still +leaning back in the shadow of the alcove, and her head rested against +the dark wood-panels. She did not move when he looked towards her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My God," he said in a hushed and trembling whisper, and she gave no +sign that she heard. She might have fainted, but that her eyes +glittered out of the shadow straight and steadily into his. She might +be dead from the whiteness of her face against the panels, but that +her bosom rose and fell.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What can I do?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hush!" she replied, and rose to her feet. "Here is Lady +Donnisthorpe." She walked abruptly past him across the room to the +open window. Charnock remained nailed to the ground, following her +with his eyes. For in that alcove, leaning against the dark panels, he +had seen not merely the features, but the expression on the features, +he had seen exact in every detail the face which he had seen in the +polished darkness of his mirror. The sheen of the dark polished panels +helped the illusion. His fancy had come true, was transmuted into +fact. Somewhere, somehow, he was to meet that woman. He had met her +here and in this way, and her eyes and her face uttered her distress +as with a piercing cry. Her eyes! The resemblance was perfect to the +last detail. For Charnock ventured to surmise in them the same +involuntary appeal which he had seen in the eyes that had looked out +from his mirror. What then if the rest were true? What if his +explanation was as true as the true facts which it explained? What if +it was given to him and to her to stand apart from their fellows in +this mysterious relation?...</p> + +<p class="normal">He saw that Miranda was already near the window, that Lady +Donnisthorpe was approaching him. He followed instantly in Miranda's +steps, and Lady Donnisthorpe, perceiving his attention, had the +complaisance to turn aside. For the window opened on to a balcony +wherein discreet palms sheltered off a nook. There was one of Lady +Donnisthorpe's guests who did not share her ladyship's complacency. A +censorious dowager sitting near to the window had kept an alert eye +upon the couple in the recess during the last three dances; and each +time that her daughter--a pretty girl with hair of the palest possible +gold, and light blue eyes that were dancing with a child's delight at +all the wonders of a first season--returned to the shelter of her +portly frame, the dowager drew moral lessons for her benefit from the +text of the oblivious couple. She remarked with pain upon their +increasing infatuation for each other; she pointed out to her daughter +a hapless youth who tiptoed backwards and forwards before Mrs. +Warriner, with a dance-card in his hand, too timorous to interrupt the +intimate conversation; and when Mrs. Warriner dropped a glove as she +stepped over the window-sill on to the balcony, the dowager nudged her +daughter with an elbow.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now, Mabel, there's a coquette," she said.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was close behind, and overheard the triumphant remark.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon," he said politely, "it was the purest accident."</p> + +<p class="normal">The dowager bridled; her face grew red; she raised her tortoiseshell +glasses and annihilated Charnock with a single stare. Charnock had the +audacity to smile. He stooped and picked up the glove. Mrs. Warriner +had indeed dropped the glove by accident; but since it fell in +Charnock's way and since he picked it up, it was to prove, like the +handbill at Gibraltar and the draft on Lloyd's bank, a thing trivial +in itself, but the opportunity of strange events.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_05" href="#div1Ref_05">WHEREIN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA IMPROVE +THEIR ACQUAINTANCESHIP IN A BALCONY</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe's house stood in Queen Anne's Gate, and the balcony +overlooked St. James's Park. There Charnock found Miranda; he leaned +his elbows upon the iron balustrade, and for a while neither of them +spoke. It was a clear night of early June, odorous with messages of +hedgerows along country lanes and uplands of young grass, and of bells +ringing over meadows. In front of them the dark trees of the Park +rippled and whispered to the stray breaths of wind; between the trees +one line of colourless lamps marked the footpath across the bridge to +the Mall; and the carriages on the outer roadway ringed that enclosure +of thickets and lawns with flitting sparks of fire.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was still holding the glove which he had picked up on the +window-sill.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's mine," said Miranda; "thank you," and she stretched out her +hand for it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said Charnock, absently, and he drew the glove through his +fingers. It was a delicate trifle of white kid; he smoothed it, and +his hand had the light touch of a caress. "Miranda," he said softly +but distinctly, and lingered on the word as though the sound pleased +him.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda started and then sank back again in her chair with a quiet +smile. Very likely she blushed at this familiar utterance of her name, +and at the caressing movement of his hand which accompanied and +perhaps interpreted the utterance, or perhaps it was only at a certain +throb of her own heart that she blushed. At all events, the darkness +concealed the blush, and Charnock was not looking in her direction.</p> + +<p class="normal">The freshness of the night air had restored her, but she was very +willing to sit there in silence so long as no questions were asked of +her, and Charnock had rather the air of one who works out a private +problem for himself than one who seeks the answer from another.</p> + +<p class="normal">The clock upon Westminster tower boomed the hour of twelve. Miranda +noticed that Charnock raised his head and listened to the twelve heavy +strokes with a smile. His manner was that of a man who comes +unexpectedly upon some memento of an almost forgotten time.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That is a familiar sound to you," said Mrs. Warriner, and she was +suddenly sensible of a great interest in all of the past life of this +man who was standing beside her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said Charnock, turning round to her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You lived in Westminster, then? At one time I used to stay here a +good deal. Where did you live?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock laughed. "You would probably be no wiser if I named the +street; it is not of those which you and your friends go up and down," +he replied simply. "Yes, I lived in Westminster for three hard, +curious years."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's not only the years that are curious," said Miranda, but the hint +was lost, for Charnock had turned back to the balustrade. She was +still, however, inclined to persist. The details which Lady +Donnisthorpe had sown in her mind, now bore their crop. Interested in +the man, now that she knew him, she was also interested in his career, +in his hurried migratory life, in the mystery which enveloped his +youth, and all the more because of the contrast between her youth and +his. He had lived for three years in some small back street of +Westminster; very likely she had more than once rubbed shoulders +with him in the streets on the occasions when she had come up from her +home in Suffolk. That home became instantly very distinct in her +memories--an old manor-house guarded by a moat of dark silent water, a +house or broad red-brick chimneys whereon she had known the roses to +bloom on a Christmas-day, and of leaded windows upon which the boughs +of trees continually tapped.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should like to show you my home," she said with a sudden impulse, +and did not check herself before the words were spoken. "Perhaps some +day," she continued hurriedly, "you will tell me of those three years +you spent in Westminster." And she hoped that he had not heard the +first sentence of the two.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will make an exchange," said Charnock. "I will exchange some day, +if you will, the history of my three years for the history of your +trouble." He turned eagerly towards her, but she held up her hand.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Please, please!" she said in a low, shaking voice, for her distress +had come back upon her. She had begun, if not to forget it, at all +events to dull the remembrance of it since she had come out upon the +balcony. She had, in a word, sought and found a compensation in the +new friendship of this man, and a relief in his very <i>naïveté</i>. But he +had brought her anxieties back to her, as he clearly understood, for +he said: "That is the second time this evening. I am sorry."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The second time?" said Miranda, quickly. "Why do you say that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Am I wrong?" he asked. "Am I wrong in fearing that I myself have +brought on you the trouble which I fancied I was to avert? I should be +glad to know that I was wrong, for since I have stood here on this +balcony, that fear has been growing. Your face so changed at the story +I told you. At what point of it I do not know. I was not looking. Did +I show you some misfortune you were unaware of, and might still be +unaware of, if I had only held my tongue? In offering to shield you, +did I only strike at you? I do not know, I am in the dark." He spoke +in a voice of intense remorse, pleading for a proof that his fear was +groundless, and Miranda did not answer him at all. "I do not ask you +to speak freely now," he continued; "but sometime perhaps you will. +You see, we shall be neighbours."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Neighbours!" exclaimed Miranda, and her lips parted in a smile.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You live at Ronda, Lady Donnisthorpe tells me; my headquarters now +are at Algeciras;" and he told her briefly of his business there.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My cousin did not tell me that," said Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe, in the wisdom of her heart, had, in fact, carefully +concealed Charnock's place of abode, thinking it best that Miranda +should learn it from Charnock's lips, and be pleasantly surprised +thereby. That Miranda was pleasantly surprised might perhaps have been +inferred by a more experienced man, from the extreme chilliness of her +reply.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ronda is at the top," she said, "Algeciras at the bottom, and there +are a hundred miles of hillside and cork-forest between."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There are also," retorted Charnock, "a hundred miles of railway."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall we go back into the room?" suggested Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you wish. Only there is something else I am trying to say to you," +said Charnock, and at that Miranda laughed, and laughed with a fresh +bright trill of amusement. It broke suddenly and spontaneously from +her lips and surprised Charnock, who was at a loss to reconcile it +with the signs of her distress. He turned towards her. "What is it?" +he asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nothing," she said hastily, "nothing at all."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You wished to go in?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not now,--not for the world."</p> + +<p class="normal">She was genuinely amused. Her eyes laughed at him in the starlight. +Charnock was very content at the change in her, though he did not at +all understand it. It made what he meant to say easier, if he could +only find the means to say it. He held the means unwittingly in his +hand, for he held Miranda's glove. It was that glove which provoked +her amusement. Charnock, with a pertinacity which was only equalled by +his absence of mind, was trying to force his hand into Mrs. Warriner's +glove. He had already succeeded in slipping the long sleeve of it over +his palm; he was now engaged in the more strenuous task of fitting his +fingers into its slender fingers, as he leaned upon the balcony.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are laughing, no doubt, at my pertinacity, and it is true that +our acquaintanceship is very slight," said he.</p> + +<p class="normal">"In a moment you will irretrievably destroy it," said she, looking at +the glove.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hope you don't mean that," he answered sadly, as he smoothed +the finger-tip of the forefinger down upon his own, and at once +proceeded to the other fingers. The little finger in particular needed +a deal of strenuous coaxing, and caused him to break up his words with +intervals of physical effort. "Because--as I say--we shall be +neighbours--there!"--The exclamation "there" meant that he was +satisfied with the third finger.--"A hundred miles of hill-side--in a +foreign country--on a map a thumb will cover it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will it cover a thumb, though?" asked Miranda, who took a feminine +interest in the durability of her glove. She leaned forward in a +delighted suspense, as Charnock proceeded to answer her question by +experiment.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's the railway too," said he, as he struggled with the thumb of +the glove, "and as I say, a foreign country. Very likely, we shall be +nearer neighbours, though you are at Ronda and I am at Algeciras, than +if you lived in this house and I at the house next door. Because after +all there's one advantage in trouble of any kind. Trouble is the short +foot-path to friendship, don't you think? Like that line of lamps +across the Park."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda forgot the glove. She was touched by the deep sincerity of his +voice, by the modesty of his manner. She rose from her chair and stood +by his side at the balustrade. "Yes," she answered, looking at the +circling lights on the outer rim of the Park. "I think that is true. +It spares one the long carriage-road of ceremonial acquaintanceship. +But," she said thoughtfully, "I do not know whether after all I shall +soon return to Ronda."</p> + +<p class="normal">She heard a little sound of something tearing, and there was Charnock +contemplating in amazement upon his left hand a white kid glove of +which the kid was ripped across the palm. He felt in his pocket with +his right hand and drew out both of his own gloves, which he had taken +off while he was talking in the alcove. Then he looked at Miranda and +his amazement became remorse.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's yours!" he said. "Of course, I picked it up. I had forgotten +even that I was holding it. I had no notion that I was putting it on."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I gave you fair warning," said Miranda, with a frank laugh, "but you +would not pay any attention."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock looked at her with absolute incredulity. "You mean to say +that you don't mind? You are wonderful!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It seems almost too late to mind," said she, looking at the tattered +glove.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Or to mend," said he, ruefully, drawing it off with extreme care, and +as a new thought struck him. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "suppose it had +belonged to anyone else, the dowager in the window, for instance." He +dangled the glove in the air. "Now that's a lesson!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps it's a parable," said Miranda, as she took the glove from +him.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock saw that she had grown quite serious. "If so," said he, "I +cannot expound it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall I?" The smile had faded from her lips, her eyes shone upon his, +with no longer a sparkle of merriment, but very still, very grave.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, then," she said slowly, "shall I say that no man can offer a +woman his friendship or help without doing her a hurt in some other +way?"</p> + +<p class="normal">His eyes as steadily answered back to hers. "Do you believe that?" he +said. He spoke quite simply without raising his voice in any way, but +none the less Mrs. Warriner was certain that she had but to say "yes," +and there would be an end, now and forever, of his questions, of his +help, of his friendship, of everything between them beyond the merest +acquaintanceship. Perhaps some day they might cross the harbour +together in the same ferry from Algeciras to Gibraltar, and bow and +exchange a careless word, but that would be all--and only that until +his work was finished there.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you believe that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She was half tempted to say "yes"; but she had an instinct, a +premonition, that whatever answer she made would stretch out to +unknown and incalculable consequences. She seemed to herself to be +drawing the lots which one way or another would decide and limit all +her years to come. Upon the tiny "yes" or "no" between which she had +to make her choice, her whole life was destined to pivot. Accordingly, +she made up her mind to say neither, but to turn the matter into a +jest. "Here's the proof," said she, as lightly as she could, and she +flourished the glove.</p> + +<p class="normal">But the man steadily held her to his question, with his eyes, with his +voice, with his very attitude. "Do you believe that?" he repeated.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't know whether I believe it," she murmured resentfully. "I +don't see why I should be asked to mean what I say, or whether I mean +what I say.... But it might be so, I think.... I don't know.... I +don't know."</p> + +<p class="normal">To her relief Charnock moved. If he had stood like that, demanding an +answer with every line of his body, for another instant, she knew she +would have been compelled to answer one way or another; and she felt +certain, too, that whatever answer she gave it would have been the one +she would have wished afterwards to take back. "Now if you are +satisfied," she added with a touch of petulance, "we will go in."</p> + +<p class="normal">He moved aside for her to pass, but before she had time to step +forward, he moved back again and barred the way. "No, please," he said +quickly, and his voice thrilled as though he had hit upon an +inspiration.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Lady Donnisthorpe told me you were rather unconventional," she +remarked with a sigh, which was only half of it a jest; and she drew +back as though she did not wish to hear what he had to say, as though +she almost feared to hear it.</p> + +<p class="normal">But Charnock barely even remarked her reluctance. "That glove," he +said, and pointed to it. Miranda imagined that he was reaching out a +hand for it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have <i>heaps</i> of pairs," she exclaimed, whipping it behind her back; +"there is no need to trouble about it at all."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do not ask for it; I had no thought of that. On the contrary, I +would ask you to keep it if you will. There is something else which I +was trying to say, if you remember."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dear, dear!" said Miranda, ruefully, "I could wish after all that you +had trodden on my toes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon," said Charnock, and instantly he drew aside. He +left the way clear for her. She passed him, and went towards the +window, from which the lights and the music streamed out into the +night. Had he followed, she would have stepped into the room, amongst +the dancers; she would have been claimed by a partner, and she would +have seen no more of Charnock, and the only consequences of this +interview upon the balcony would have been a memory in her thoughts, a +curiosity in her speculations.</p> + +<p class="normal">But Charnock did not follow her. He remained where she left him, and +her feet loitered more with every step she took. At the edge of the +window she stopped. For the second time that evening she became aware +that one way or other she must do the irrevocable thing. It was a mere +step to make across the sill of the window, from the stone of the +balcony to the parquet of the ball-room floor,--a thing insignificant +in itself and in its consequences most momentous. She stood for a +second undecided. The sight of her partner looking about the room +decided her. She came back to where Charnock stood in a soldierly +rigidity.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You might have come half-way to meet me," she said in a whimsical +complaint, and then very gently: "I will hear what you wish to say, if +you will still say it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What I mean is this," he replied; "it is what I was trying to say. +The hardest thing, if one ever wants help, is--don't you think?--the +asking for it. I could not say that to you until I had hit upon a +means by which the asking, should it ever be necessary, might be +dispensed with. And it seemed to me that there was something +providential in my tearing that glove; for that torn glove can be the +means, if ever you see fit to use it. You live at Ronda; for the next +year I am to be found at Algeciras; you will only have to send that +torn glove to me in an envelope. I shall know without a word from you; +and when I answer it by coming up to you at Ronda, it will be +understood by both of us, again without a word, why I have come. I +shall not need to speak at all; you will only need to say the precise +particular thing which needs to be done."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda stood with her eyelids closed, and her ungloved hand pressed +over her heart. The blood darkened her cheeks. Charnock saw her whole +face soften and sweeten. "I understand," she said in a low voice. "I +might appeal and be spared the humiliation of appealing, like the face +in your mirror."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I believe," said he, "that my mirror sent me a message on that night. +I have tried to deliver it."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda slowly raised her eyes and they glistened with something other +than the starlight. "Thank you," she said; "for the delicacy of the +thought I am most grateful. What woman would not be? But I do not +think that I shall ever send you the glove: not because I would not be +glad to owe gratitude to you, but just for the same reason which has +kept me from telling you anything of my troubles. Such as they are I +must fight them through by myself."</p> + +<p class="normal">This time she passed over the sill into the ballroom; but she was +holding the glove tight against her breast, and she had a feeling that +Charnock very surely knew that at some time she would send it to him.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_06" href="#div1Ref_06">WHILE CHARNOCK BUILDS CASTLES IN SPAIN, +MIRANDA RETURNS THERE</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">The anxious dowager, who was preparing to depart with her daughter, +had just risen from her seat by the window as Miranda stepped over the +sill into the ball-room. She sat down again, however, for she had a +word or two to say concerning Miranda's appearance.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Muriel," she observed, "take a good look at that woman, and remember +that if ever you sit out with one man for half-an-hour on a cool +balcony you can make no greater mistake than to return with a flushed +face."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thank you, mother," said Muriel, who was growing restive under this +instructional use of an evening party. "I will take the first +opportunity of practising your advice."</p> + +<p class="normal">At this moment Charnock stepped over the sill. He stepped up to Mrs. +Warriner's side and spoke to her. Mrs. Warriner stopped within a +couple of yards of the dowager and gave her hand, and with her hand +her eyes, to her companion.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Muriel, look!" said the censorious one. "How vulgar!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall I listen too?" asked Muriel, innocently.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do, my child, do!" said the dowager, who was impervious to sarcasm.</p> + +<p class="normal">What was said, however, did not reach the dowager's ears. It was, +indeed, no more than an interchange of "good-nights," but the dowager +bridled, perhaps out of disappointment that she had not heard.</p> + +<p class="normal">"An intriguing woman I have no doubt," said she, as through her +glasses she followed Miranda's retreat.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Surely she has too much dignity," objected the daughter.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dignity, indeed! My child, when you know more of the world, you will +understand that the one astonishing thing about such women is not +their capacity for playing tricks but their incredible power of +retaining their self-respect while they are playing them. Now we will +go."</p> + +<p class="normal">The dowager's voice was a high one. It carried her words clearly to +Charnock, who had not as yet moved. He laughed at them then with +entire incredulity, but he retained them unwittingly in his memory. +The next moment the dowager swept past him. The daughter Muriel +followed, and as she passed Charnock she looked at him with an +inquisitive friendliness. But her eyes happened to meet his, and with +a spontaneous fellow-feeling the girl and the man smiled to each other +and at the dowager, before they realised that they were totally +unacquainted.</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe was lying in wait for Charnock. She asked him to +take her to the buffet. Charnock secured for her a chair and an ice, +and stood by her side, conversational but incommunicative. She was +consequently compelled herself to broach the subject which was at that +moment nearest to her heart.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How did you get on with my cousin?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock smiled foolishly at nothing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, say something!" cried Lady Donnisthorpe, and tapped with her +spoon upon the glass plate.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Tell me about her," said Charnock, drawing up another chair.</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe lowered her voice and said with great pathos: "She +is most unhappy."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock gravely nodded his head. "Why?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe settled herself comfortably with the full intention +of wringing Charnock's heart if by any means she could.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Miranda comes of an old Catholic Suffolk family. She was eighteen +when she married, and that's six years ago. No, six years and a half. +Ralph Warriner was a Lieutenant in the Artillery, and made her +acquaintance when he was staying in the neighbourhood of the Pollards, +that's Miranda's house in Suffolk. Ralph listened to Allan Bedlow's +antediluvian stories. Allan was Miranda's father, her mother died long +ago. Ralph captured the father; finally he captured the daughter. +Ralph, you see, had many graces but no qualities; he was a bad stone +in a handsome setting and Miranda was no expert. How could she be? She +lived at Glenham with only her father and a discontented relation, +called Jane Holt, for her companions. Consequently she married Ralph +Warriner, who got his step the day after the marriage, and the pair +went immediately to Gibraltar. Ralph had overestimated Miranda's +fortune, and it came out that he was already handsomely dipped; so +that their married life began with more than the usual disadvantages. +It lasted for three years, and for that time only because of Miranda's +patience and endurance. She is very silent about those three years, +but we know enough," and Lady Donnisthorpe was for a moment carried +away. "It must have been intolerable," she exclaimed. "Ralph Warriner +never had cared a snap of his fingers for her. His tastes were +despicable, his disposition utterly mean. Cards were in his blood; I +verily believe that his heart was an ace of spades. Add to that that +he was naturally cantankerous and jealous. To his brother officers he +was civil for he owed them money, but he made up for his civility by +becoming a bully once he had closed his own front door."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, yes," interrupted Charnock, hurriedly, as though he had no heart +to hear more; "I understand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You can understand then that when the crash came we were glad. Two +years after the marriage old Allan Bedlow sickened. Miranda came home +to nurse him and Ralph--he bought a schooner-yacht. Allan Bedlow died; +Miranda inherited, and the estate was settled upon her. Ralph could +not touch a farthing of the capital, and he was aggrieved. Miranda +returned to Gibraltar, and matters went from worse to worse. The crash +came a year later. The nature of it is neither here nor there, but +Ralph had to go, and had to go pretty sharp. His schooner-yacht was +luckily lying in Gibraltar Bay; he slipped on board before gunfire, +and put to sea as soon as it was dark; and he was not an instant too +soon. From that moment he disappeared, and the next news we had of him +was the discovery of his body upon Rosevear two years afterwards."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock hunted through the jungle of Lady Donnisthorpe's words for a +clue to the distress which Miranda had betrayed that evening, but he +did not discover one. Another question forced itself into his mind. +"Why does Mrs. Warriner live at Ronda?" he asked. "I have never been +there, but there are no English residents, I should think."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That was one of her reasons," replied Lady Donnisthorpe. "At least I +think so, but upon that too she is silent, and when she will not speak +no one can make her. You see what Ralph did was hushed up,--it was one +of those cases which are hushed up,--particularly since he had +disappeared and was out of reach. But everyone knew that disgrace +attached to it. His name was removed from the Army List. Miranda +perhaps shrank from the disgrace. She shrank too, I think, from the +cheap pity of which she would have had so much. At all events she did +not return home, she sent for Jane Holt, her former companion, and +settled at Ronda." Lady Donnisthorpe looked doubtfully at Charnock. +"Perhaps there were other reasons too, sacred reasons." But she had +not made up her mind whether it would be wise to explain those other +reasons before her guests began to take their leave of her; and so the +opportunity was lost.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock walked back to his hotel that night in a frame of mind +entirely strange to him. He was inclined to rhapsodise; he invented +and rejected various definitions of woman; he laughed at the worldly +ignorance of the dowager. "A woman, madam "--he imagined himself to be +lecturing her--"is the great gift to man to keep him clean and bright +like a favourite sword." He composed other and no less irreproachable +phrases, and in the midst of this exhilarating exercise was struck +suddenly aghast at the temerity of his own conduct that night, at the +remembrance of his persistency. However, he was not in a mood to be +disheartened. The dawn took the sky by surprise while he was still +upon his way. The birds bustled among the leaves in the gardens, and a +thrush tried his throat, and finding it clear gave full voice to his +song. The blackbirds called one to the other, and a rosy light struck +down the streets. It was morning, and he stopped to wonder whether +Miranda was yet asleep. He hoped so, intensely, for the sake of her +invaluable health.</p> + +<p class="normal">But Miranda was seated by her open window, listening to the birds +calling in the Park, and drawing some quiet from the quiet of the +lawns and trees; and every now and then she glanced across her +shoulder to where a torn white glove lay upon the table, as though she +was afraid it would vanish by some enchantment.</p> + +<p class="normal">But the next day Miranda packed her boxes, and when Charnock called +upon Lady Donnisthorpe, he was informed that she had returned in haste +to Ronda. Charnock was surprised, for he remembered that Mrs. Warriner +had expressed a doubt whether she would ever return to Ronda, and +wondered what had occurred to change her mind. But the surprise and +bewilderment were soon swallowed up in a satisfaction which sprang +from the assurance that Miranda and he were after all to be +neighbours.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_07" href="#div1Ref_07">IN WHICH MAJOR WILBRAHAM DESCRIBES THE STEPS BY WHICH HE ATTAINED +HIS MAJORITY, AND GIVES MIRANDA SOME PARTICULAR INFORMATION</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">A month later at Ronda, and a little after midday. In the cool +darkness of the Cathedral, under the great stone dome behind the +choir, Miranda was kneeling before a lighted altar. That altar she had +erected, as an inscription showed, to the memory of Ralph Warriner, +and since her return from England she had passed more than an ordinary +proportion of her time in front of it.</p> + +<p class="normal">This morning, however, an unaccountable uneasiness crept over her. She +tried to shake the sensation off by an increased devoutness, but +though her knees were bent, there was no prayer in her mind or upon +her lips. Her uneasiness increased, and after a while it defined +itself. Someone was watching her from behind.</p> + +<p class="normal">She ceased even from the pretence of prayer. Her heart fluttered up +into her throat. She did not look round, she did not move, but she +knelt there with a sinking expectation, in the light of the altar +candles, and felt intensely helpless because their yellow warmth +streamed full upon her face and person, and must disclose her to the +watching eyes behind.</p> + +<p class="normal">She knelt waiting for a familiar voice and a familiar step. She heard +only the grating of a chair upon the stone flags beyond the choir, and +a priest droning a litany very far away. Here all was quiet--quiet as +the eyes watching her out of the gloom.</p> + +<p class="normal">At last, resenting her cowardice, she rose to her feet and turned. At +once a man stepped forward, and her heart gave a great throb of +relief, as she saw the man was a stranger.</p> + +<p class="normal">He bowed, and with an excuse for his intrusion, he handed her a card. +She did not look at it, for immediately the stranger continued to +speak, in a cool, polite voice, and it seemed to her that all her +blood stood still.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I knew Captain Warriner at Gibraltar," he said. "In fact I may say +that I know him, for he is alive."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda was dimly aware that he waited for an answer, and then excused +her silence with an accent of sarcasm.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Such good news must overwhelm you, no doubt. I have used all despatch +to inform you of it, for I was only certain of the truth yesterday."</p> + +<p class="normal">And to her amazement Miranda heard herself reply:</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then I discovered it a month before you did."</p> + +<p class="normal">The next thing of which she was conscious was a thick golden mist +before her eyes. The golden mist was the clear sunlight in the square +before the Cathedral. Miranda was leaning against the stone parapet, +though how she was there she could not have told. She had expected the +news. She had even thought that the man standing behind her was her +husband, come to tell her it in person; but nevertheless the mere +telling of it, the putting of it in words, to quote the stranger's +phrase, had overwhelmed her. Memories of afternoons during which she +had walked out with her misery to Europa Point, of evenings when she +had sat with her misery upon the flat house-top watching the riding +lights in Algeciras Bay, and listening to the jingle of tambourines +from the houses on the hillside below--all the sordid unnecessary +wretchedness of those three years spent at Gibraltar came crushing +her. She savoured again the disgrace which attended upon Ralph's +flight. Her first instinct, when she learned Ralph was alive, had +urged her to hide, and at this moment she regretted that she had not +obeyed it. She regretted that she had returned to Ronda, where Ralph +or any emissary of his at once could find her.</p> + +<p class="normal">But that was only for a moment. She had returned to Ronda with a full +appreciation of the consequences of her return, and for reasons which +she was afterwards to explain, and of which, even while she stood in +that square, she resumed courage to approve.</p> + +<p class="normal">The stranger came from the door of the Cathedral and crossed to her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your matter-of-fact acceptance of my news was clever, Mrs. Warriner," +he said with a noticeable sharpness. "Believe me, I do homage to +cleverness. I frankly own that I expected a scene of sorts. I was +quite taken aback--a compliment, I assure you, upon my puff," and he +bowed with his hand on his breast. "You were out of the Cathedral door +before I realised that all this time you had been the Captain's--would +you mind if I said accomplice?"</p> + +<p class="normal">That her matter-of-fact acceptance of the news was entirely due to the +fact that the news dazed her, Miranda did not trouble to explain.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The altar," continued the stranger, in a voice of genuine admiration, +"was a master-stroke. To erect an altar to the memory of a husband +who is still alive, to pray devoutly before it, is highly ingenious +and--may I say?--brave. Religion is a trump-card, Mrs. Warriner, in +most of the games where you sit with law and order for your opponents; +but not many women have the bravery to play it for its value."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda coloured at his words. There had been some insincerity in her +daily prayers before the altar, though the self-satisfied man who +spoke to her had not his finger upon the particular flaw,--enough +insincerity to cause Miranda some shame, now that she probed it, and +yet in the insincerity there had been also something sincere. The +truth is, Miranda could bring herself to wish neither that her husband +was dead if he was alive, nor that he should come to life again if he +was dead; she made a compromise--she daily prayed with great fervour +for his soul's salvation before the altar she had erected to his +memory. But this again was not a point upon which she troubled to +enlighten her companion. She was more concerned to discover who the +man was, and on what business he had come.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You knew my husband at Gibraltar," she said, "and yet--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is true," replied the man, in answer to her suspicion. "You need +not be afraid, Mrs. Warriner. I have not come from Scotland Yard. I +have had, I admit, relations with the police, but they have always +been of an involuntary kind."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You assume," said she, with some pride, "that I have reason to fear +Scotland Yard, whereas nothing was further from my thoughts. Only you +say that you knew my husband at Gibraltar. You pretend to come from +him--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"By no means. We are at cross-purposes, I fancy. I do not come from +him, though most certainly I did know him at Gibraltar. But I admit +that he never invited me to his house."</p> + +<p class="normal">"In that case," said Miranda, with a cold bow, "I can do no more than +thank you for the news you give me and wish you a good day."</p> + +<p class="normal">She walked by him. He turned and imperturbably fell into step by her +side. "Clever," said he, "clever!" Miranda stopped. "Who are you? What +is your business?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"As to who I am, you hold my card in your hand."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Warriner had carried it from the Cathedral, unaware that she held +it. She now raised it to her eyes and read, <i>Major Ambrose Wilbraham</i>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham noted, though he did not understand, the rapid, perplexed +glance which she shot at him. Charnock had spoken to her of a Major +Wilbraham, had described him, and undoubtedly this was the man. "As to +my business," he continued, "I give you the news that your husband is +alive, but I have also something to sell."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Obviously my silence. It might be awkward if it was known in certain +quarters that Captain Warriner, who sold the mechanism of the new +Daventry quick-firing gun to a foreign power; who slipped out of +Gibraltar just a night before his arrest was determined on, and who +was wrecked a year ago in the Scillies, is not only alive, but in the +habit of paying periodical visits to England."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Warriner again read the name upon the card. "Major Ambrose +Wilbraham," she said, with an incredulous emphasis on the <i>Major</i>.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Captains," he retorted airily, "have at times deviated from the +narrow path, so that a Major may well be forgiven a peccadillo. But I +will not deceive you, Mrs. Warriner. The rank was thrust upon me by a +barman in Shaftesbury Avenue, and I suffered it, because the title +after all gives me the entrance to the chambers of many young men who +have, or most often have not, just taken their degrees. So Major I am, +but my mess is any bar within a mile of Piccadilly Circus. Shall we +say that I hold brevet rank, and am seconded for service in the noble +regiment of the soldiers of fortune?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"And the enemies you fight with," said Miranda, with a contemptuous +droop of the lips, "are women like myself."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pardon me," retorted Wilbraham, with unabashed good humour. "Women +like yourself, Mrs. Warriner, are the <i>vivandières</i> whom we +regretfully impress to supply our needs upon the march. Our enemies +are the rozzers--again I beg your pardon--the gentlemen in blue who +lurk at the street corners, by whom from time to time we are worsted +and interned."</p> + +<p class="normal">They walked across the square along a narrow street down towards the +Tajo, that deep chasm which bisects the town. The heat was intense, +the road scorched under foot, and they walked slowly. They made a +strange pair in the old, quaint streets, the woman walking with a +royal carriage, delicate in her beauty and her dress; the man defiant, +battered and worn, with an eye which from sheer habit scouted in front +and aside for the chance which might toss his day's rations in his +way.</p> + +<p class="normal">Their talk was stranger still, for by an unexpressed consent, the +subject of the bargain to be struck was deferred, and as they walked +Wilbraham illustrated to Miranda the career of a man who lives by his +wits, and dwelt even with humour upon its alternations of prosperity +and starvation. "I have been a manager of theatrical companies in 'the +smalls,'" he said, "a billiard-marker at Trieste, a racing tipster, a +vender of--photographs, and I once carried a sandwich-board down Bond +Street, and saw the women I had danced with not so long before draw +their delicate skirts from the defilement of my rags. However, I +rose to a better position. It is funny, you know, to go right under, +and then find there are social degrees in the depths. I have had +good times too, mind you. Every now and then I have struck an A1 +copper-bottomed gold mine, and then there were dress suits and meals +running into one another, and ormolu rooms on the first floor."</p> + +<p class="normal">Dark sayings, unintelligible shibboleths, came and went among his +words and obscured their meaning; accents and phrases from many +countries betrayed the vicissitudes of his life; but he spoke with the +accent of a gentleman, and with something of a gentleman's good +humour; so that Miranda, moved partly by his recital and perhaps +partly because her own misfortunes had touched her to an universal +sympathy, began to be interested in the man who had experienced so +much that was strange to her, and they both slipped into a tolerance +of each other and a momentary forgetfulness of their relationship as +blackmailer and blackmailed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I could give you a modern edition of Don Guzman," he said. "I was a +money-lender's tout at Gibraltar at one time. It's to that I owed my +acquaintance with Warriner. It's to that I owe my present acquaintance +with you." He came to a dead stop in the full swing of narration. He +halted in his steps and banged the point of his stick down into the +road. "But I have done with it," he cried, and drawing a great breath, +he showed to Miranda a face suddenly illuminated. "The garrets and the +first floors, the stale billiard rooms, the desperate scouting for +food like a damned sea-gull--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Warriner. Upon my +word, I do! But imagine a poor beggar of a bankrupt painter who, after +fifteen years, suddenly finds himself with a meal upon the table and +his bills paid! I am that man. Fifteen years of what I have described +to you! It might have been less, no doubt, but I hadn't learnt my +lesson. Fifteen years, and from first to last not one thing done of +the few things worth doing; fifteen years of a murderous hunt for +breakfast and dinner! And I've done with it, thanks to you, Mrs. +Warriner." And his face hardened at once and gleamed at her, very +cruel and menacing. "Yes, thanks to you! We'll not forget that." And +as he resumed his walk the astounding creature began gaily to quote +poetry:</p> +<div class="poem2"> +<p class="t16" style="margin-left:30%">"I resume</p> +<p class="t0">Life after death; for 'tis no less than life<br> +<p class="t0">After such long, unlovely labouring days.</p> +</div> + +<p class="continue">A great poet, Mrs. Warriner. What do you think?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No doubt," said Miranda, absently. That one cruel glance had chilled +the sympathy in her; Major Wilbraham would not spare either Ralph or +herself with the memory of those fifteen years to harden him.</p> + +<p class="normal">They came to the Ciudad, the old intricate Moorish town of tortuous +lanes in the centre of Ronda. Before a pair of heavy walnut doors +curiously encrusted with bright copper nails Wilbraham came to a stop. +"Your house, I think, Mrs. Warriner," and he took off his hat and +wiped his forehead.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should prefer," said she, "to hear what you have to say in the +Alameda."</p> + +<p class="normal">"As you will. I am bound to say that I could have done with a soda and +I'm so frisky, but I recognise that I have no right to trespass upon +your hospitality."</p> + +<p class="normal">They went on, crossed a small plaza, and so came down to the Tajo. A +bridge spans the ravine in a single arch; in the centre of the bridge +Miranda stopped, leaned over the parapet and looked downwards. +Wilbraham followed her example. For three hundred feet the walls of +the gorge fell sheer, at the bottom the turbulence of a torrent foamed +and roared, at the top was the span of the bridge. In the brickwork of +the arch a tiny window looked out on air.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you see that window?" said Miranda, drily. "The prison is +underfoot in the arch of the bridge."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Indeed, how picturesque," returned Wilbraham, easily, who was quite +untouched by any menace which Miranda's words might suggest. Miranda +looked across the road towards a guardia. Wilbraham lazily followed +the direction of her glance; for all the emotion which he showed +blackmail might have been held in Spain an honourable means of +livelihood. Miranda turned back. "That window," she said, "is the +window of the prison."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The view," remarked Wilbraham, "would compensate in some measure for +the restriction."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Chains might add to the restriction."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Chains <i>are</i> unpleasant," Wilbraham heartily agreed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda realised that she had tempted defeat in this little encounter. +She accepted it and walked on.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You were wise to come off that barrow, Mrs. Warriner," Wilbraham +remarked in approval.</p> + +<p class="normal">They crossed the bridge and entered the Mercadillo, the new Spanish +quarter of the town, ascended the hill, and came to the bull ring. +Before that Wilbraham stopped. "Why do we go to the Alameda?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"We can talk there on neutral ground."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It seems a long way."</p> + +<p class="normal">"On the other hand," replied Miranda, "the Alameda is close to the +railway station. By the bye, how did you know where I lived?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There was no difficulty in discovering that. I learnt at Gibraltar +that you lived at Ronda, and the station-master here told me where. +When I saw your house I did not wonder at your choice. You were wise +to take a Moorish house, I fancy--the patio with the tamarisks in the +middle and the fountain and the red and green tiles--very pleasant, I +should think. A door or two stood open. The rooms seemed charming, low +in roof, with dark panels, of a grateful coolness, and so far as I +could judge, with fine views."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You went into the house, then?" exclaimed Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, I asked for you, and was told that Miss Holt was at home. I +thought it wise to go in--one never knows. So I introduced myself, but +not my business, to Miss Holt--your cousin, is she not? A profound +sentimentalist, I should fancy; I noticed she was reading <i>Henrietta +Temple</i>. She complained of being much alone; she nurses grievances, no +doubt. Sentimentalists have that habit--what do you say?" Miranda +could have laughed at the shrewdness of the man's perceptions, had she +not been aware that the shrewdness was a weapon directed against her +own breast.</p> + +<p class="normal">They reached the Alameda. Miranda led the way to a bench which faced +the railings. Wilbraham looked quickly and suspiciously at her, and +then walked to the railings and looked over. The Alameda is laid out +upon the very edge of the Ronda plateau, and Wilbraham looked straight +down a sheer rock precipice of a thousand feet. He remained in that +posture for some seconds. From the foot of that precipice the plain of +the Vega stretched out level as a South-sea lagoon. The gardens of a +few cottages were marked out upon the green like the squares of a +chess-board; upon the hedges there was here and there the flutter of +white linen. Orchards of apples, cherries, peaches, and pears, +enriched the plain with their subdued colours, and the Guadiaro, freed +from the confinement of its chasm, wound through it with the glitter +and the curve of a steel spring. A few white Moorish mills upon the +banks of the stream were at work, and the sound of them came droning +through the still heat up to Wilbraham's ears.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham, however, was not occupied with the scenery, for when he +turned back to Miranda his face was dark and angry.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why did you bring me to the Alameda?" he asked sternly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because I will not listen to you in my own, house," she answered with +spirit.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham did not resent the reason, but he watched her warily, as +though he doubted it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now," said Miranda, as she stood before him. "You tell me that my +husband is living. I have your bare word for it, and out of your lips +you have proved to me that your bare word has very little worth."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The buttons are off the foils," said he; "very well. In the Cathedral +you corroborated my word. You know that he lives; I know it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How do you know it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"By adding two and two and making five, as any man with any savvy +always can," replied Wilbraham. "Indeed, by adding two and two, one +can even at times make a decent per annum."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Warriner sat down upon the bench, and Wilbraham, standing at her +side, presented the following testimonial to his "savvy." First of +all, he drew from one pocket four pounds of English gold, and from the +other a handful of dollars and pesetas. "This is what is left of two +hundred and thirty pounds, which I won at Monte Carlo in the beginning +of May. There's a chance for philosophy, Mrs. Warriner. If I hadn't +won that money I shouldn't be standing here now with my livelihood +assured. For I shouldn't have been able to embark on the P. and O. +mail steamer <i>India</i> at Marseilles, and so I shouldn't have fallen in +with my dear young friend Charnock."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda fairly started at the mention of Charnock's name in connection +with Wilbraham's discovery. Instantly Wilbraham paused. Miranda made +an effort to look entirely unconcerned, but Wilbraham's eye was upon +her, and she felt the blood colouring her cheeks.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oho!" said Wilbraham, cocking his head. Then he whistled softly to +himself while he looked her over from head to foot. Miranda kept +silence, and he resumed his story, though every time he mentioned +Charnock's name he looked to surprise her in some movement.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Off Ushant we came up with a brigantine, and I couldn't help fancying +that her lines were familiar to me. Charnock lent me his binoculars--a +dear good fellow, Charnock!--and I made out her name, the <i>Tarifa</i>. I +should not have given the boat another thought but for Charnock. +Charnock said she had the lines of a Salcombe clipper. Did you happen +to know that the <i>Ten Brothers</i> was a Salcombe clipper? I did, and the +moment Charnock had spoken I understood why the look of her hull was +familiar; I had seen her or her own legitimate sister swinging at +Warriner's moorings in Algeciras Bay. I did not set any great store +upon that small point, however, until Charnock kindly informed me that +her owner could have gained no possible advantage by altering her rig +from a schooner's into a brigantine's. Then my interest began to rise, +for he had altered the rig. Why, if the change was to his +disadvantage? I can't say that I had any answer ready; I can't say +that I expected to find an answer. But since I landed at Plymouth, +from which Salcombe is a bare twenty miles, I thought that I might as +well run over. One never knows--such small accidents mean everything +for us--and, as a matter of fact, I spent a very pleasant half-hour in +the back parlour of the Commercial Inn, watching the yachts at anchor +and the little sailing boats spinning about the river, and listening +to an old skipper, who deplored the times when the town rang with the +din of hammers in shipbuilding yards, and twelve--observe, Mrs. +Warriner, twelve--schooners brought to it the prosperity of their +trade. The schooners had been sold off, but the skipper had their +destinies at his fingers' ends as a man follows the fortunes of his +children. Two had been cast away, three were in the Newfoundland +trade, one was now a steam-yacht, and the others still carried fruit +from the West Indies. He accounted for eleven of them, and the +twelfth, of course, was the <i>Ten Brothers</i> wrecked upon Rosevear. I +eliminated the <i>Ten Brothers</i>, the two which had been cast away, and +the steam-yacht. Eight were left."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes?" said Mrs. Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I went back to Plymouth and verified the skipper's information. He +had given me the owners' names and the names of the vessels. I looked +them up in the sailing-lists and I proved beyond a shadow of doubt, +from their dates of sailing and arrival at various ports, that not one +of those eight schooners could have been the brigantine we passed off +Ushant. There remained, then, the four which I had eliminated, or +rather the three, for the steam-yacht was out of the question. Do you +follow?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda made a sign of assent.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Those three boats had been cast away. Two of them belonged to +respectable firms, the third to Ralph Warriner. It would of course be +very convenient for Ralph Warriner, under the circumstances, to be +reputed dead and yet to be alive with a boat in hand, so to speak. On +the other side, would it profit either of the two respectable firms to +spread a false report that one of their boats had been cast away? +Hardly; besides, it would of course be to Warriner's advantage, from +the point of view of concealment, to change the rig and the name of +his boat. It was all inference and guess-work, no doubt. Charnock, for +instance, might have been entirely wrong; the <i>Tarifa</i> might never +have been anything but the <i>Tarifa</i> and a brigantine; but the +inference and the guess-work all pointed the one way, and I own that +my interest was rapidly changing to excitement. My suspicions were +strengthened by the behaviour of the <i>Tarifa</i> herself. No news of her +approach was recorded in the papers. She didn't make any unnecessary +noise about the port she was bound for, nor had she the manners to +pass the time of day with any of Lloyd's signal-stations. The +<i>Tarifa's</i> business began to provoke my curiosity. Here was (shall we +say?) a needless lack of ceremony to begin with. It didn't seem as if +the <i>Tarifa</i> had many anxious friends awaiting her arrival. Besides +that, supposing that my suspicions were right, that the <i>Tarifa</i> was +the <i>Ten Brothers</i> masquerading under another name, and that perhaps +Ralph Warriner was on board, it stood to reason Ralph Warriner would +not risk his skin in an English port, without a better reason than a +cargo of trade. Comprenny, Mrs. Warriner? I was guessing, +conjecturing, inferring; I had no knowledge. So I thought the cargo of +the <i>Tarifa</i> was the right end of the stick to hang on to. If I could +know the truth about that, I should be in a better position to guess +whether it had anything to do with Ralph Warriner. Is that clear?"</p> + +<p class="normal">It was clear enough to Miranda, who already felt herself enmeshed in +the net of this man's ingenious deductions. "Yes," she said.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very well. From the brigantine's course, she was evidently making for +one of the western harbours. I lay low in Plymouth for a couple of +days, and read the shipping news. That wasn't all I did during those +two days, though. I went to the Free Library besides, overhauled the +file of the <i>Western Morning News</i> and assimilated information about +the inquest at St. Mary's. The faceless mariner chucked up on Rosevear +struck one as interesting. I noticed too that there had been a good +many wrecks in the Channel during the heavy weather and the fog just +about that time. But before I had come to any conclusion, I opened my +newspaper on the third morning and read that the <i>Tarifa</i> had dropped +her anchor at Falmouth. I took the first train out of Plymouth, and +sure enough I picked the <i>Tarifa</i> up in Falmouth docks. Then I made +friends with the port-officers, but I got never a glimpse of Ralph +Warriner."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda's hopes revived. She knew very well that Ralph Warriner was +not at that time in Falmouth. For the moment, however, she let +Wilbraham run on.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I frankly admit that my hopes sank a little," he continued. "Of +course Warriner might have been put ashore; but it seemed to me +impossible to obtain sufficient certainty of my suspicions unless I +actually clapped eyes on him."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda agreed, and her prospects of escaping from this man's clutches +showed brighter; for she was not in a mood of sufficient calmness to +enable her to realise that Wilbraham would hardly have been so frank, +if he had not by now at all events acquired absolute certainty.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My hopes were to sink yet more," Wilbraham continued. "The brigantine +passed for a tramp out from Tarifa with a cargo of fruit. I saw that +cargo unloaded. There was no pretence about it; it was a full cargo of +fruit. The boat was sailing back to Tarifa with a cargo of alkali, and +I saw that cargo stowed away in her hold. Mrs. Warriner, my spirits +began to revive. That cargo of alkali was most uncommon small; the +profit on it wouldn't have paid the decky's wages. Again I inferred. I +inferred that the alkali was a blind, and that the <i>Tarifa</i> meant to +pick up a cargo of another sort somewhere along the coast, though what +the cargo would be I could not for the life of me imagine."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But it is all guess-work," said Miranda, with an indifference which +she was far from feeling.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I learned one piece of solid cheering information from my friends the +port-officers," retorted Wilbraham. "The <i>Tarifa's</i> papers were all +quite recent, and yet she was an old boat. She was supposed to be +owned by her master."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And no doubt was," added Miranda, with an assumption of weariness.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It appeared that her saloon had caught fire; the saloon had been +gutted and the <i>Tarifa's</i> papers destroyed a year before," Wilbraham +resumed, untroubled by Mrs. Warriner's objections. "A pretty careless +captain that, eh? A most uncommon careless captain, Mrs. Warriner? For +a boat to lose her papers--well, its pretty much the same as when a +girl loses her marriage lines in the melodramas. A most uncommon +careless captain! Or a most astute one, you say. What? Well, I'll not +deny but what you may be right. For that brigantine caught fire and +burned her papers just about the date when the <i>Ten Brothers</i> went +ashore on Rosevear. How's that for the long arm?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"But you did not see my husband," said Miranda, stubbornly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And why?" asked Wilbraham, and answered his question. "Because your +husband wasn't onboard."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then the whole story falls to the ground," exclaimed Miranda, as she +rose from her seat.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wait a bit, Mrs. Warriner," said Wilbraham, and he sat down on the +seat and nursed his leg. "The <i>Tarifa</i> was supposed to belong to her +master, who went by the name of John Wilson. Now here's a funny thing. +I never saw John Wilson, though I prowled about the docks enough. The +port-officers described him to me, a grizzled seafaring man of fifty; +but he was always snug in his cabin, and a mate did the show business +with the cargo. I grew curious about John Wilson; I wanted to see John +Wilson. Accordingly I located the chart-room from the wharf, then I +put on a black thumb tie and a dirty collar so as to look like a +clerk, and I walked boldly down the gangway and stepped across the +deck. I chose my time, you understand. I knocked at the chart-room +door. 'Come in,' said a voice, and in I walked. Mrs. Warriner, you +could have knocked me down with that dainty parasol of yours if you +had been present when I first saw John Wilson.</p> + +<p class="normal">"'What do you want?' says he, short and sharp.</p> + +<p class="normal">"'Will you take a load of cotton to Valencia?' says I, and I quoted an +insignificant price.</p> + +<p class="normal">"'I am not such a fool as you look,' said he, and out I went and shook +hands with myself on the quay. For John Wilson--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was not my husband," exclaimed Miranda, with almost a despairing +violence. "He was not! He was not!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are right, Mrs. Warriner, he was not. But he was a man whom you +and I knew as Thomas Discipline, first mate of the schooner-yacht the +<i>Ten Brothers</i>, of which Captain Ralph Warriner was the certificated +master. And observe, please, the whole crew of the <i>Ten Brothers</i> was +reported lost upon Rosevear."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thomas Discipline might have left the <i>Ten Brothers</i> before," argued +Miranda. "His presence on the <i>Tarifa</i> does not connect my husband +with that boat."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's precisely the objection which occurred to me," said Wilbraham, +coolly. "But here was at last a fact which fitted in with my +guess-work, and I own to being uplifted. That evening I got the ticket +that the <i>Tarifa</i> was to put to sea the next day, and sure enough in +the morning she swung out into the fairway and waited for the evening +ebb. I passed that day in an altogether unenviable state of anxiety, +Mrs. Warriner; for if by any chance I was wrong, if she did not mean +to take up another cargo of a more profitable kind by dark, if she +were to sail clean away for Ushant on the evening ebb, why, the boat +might be the <i>Ten Brothers</i> or it might not, and the master might be +the late Captain Warriner or he might not. Any way the bottom fell +clean out of my little business. But she did not; she got her anchors +in about eight o'clock and reached out towards the Lizard in the dusk +with a light wind from the land on her beam."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The story so far," Miranda interrupted, "seems nautical, but hardly +to the point."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Think so?" said Wilbraham, indifferently. "Did I mention that at the +mouth of the harbour the <i>Tarifa</i> passed a steam launch pottering +around the St. Anthony Light? Between you and me, Mrs. Warriner, I was +holding the tiller of that steam launch."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just poor little me," said he, smiling politely, "with a few paltry +thick-uns in my pocket to speculate in the hire of a steam launch. I +gave the <i>Tarifa</i> a start and followed, keeping well away on her lee +with her red light just in view. That first half-hour or so was a +wearing time for me, Mrs. Warriner, I assure you," and he took off his +hat and wiped his forehead, as though the anxiety came back upon him +now. He laboured his breath and broke up his sentences with short +nervous laughter. He seemed entirely to forget his companion, and the +sun, and the Andalusian sierras across the plain; he was desperately +hunting the <i>Tarifa</i> along the Spit to the Lizard point.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I was certain of one thing: that no Captain Warriner had come aboard +at Falmouth. So if the <i>Tarifa</i> kept out to sea, why, there was no +Captain Warriner to come aboard, and here was I spending my last +pounds in running down a will-o'-the-wisp, and the world to face again +to-morrow in the grim old way, without a penny to my purse. On the +other hand, if there was a Captain Warriner, he would come aboard with +the cargo somewhere that night, and I fancied I could lay my finger on +that somewhere. I had another cause for anxiety. Grant my guess-work +correct, and the last thing the <i>Tarifa</i> was likely to hanker after +would be a wasp of a steam launch buzzing in her wake. The evening was +hazy, by a stroke of luck, but the wind was light and the sea smooth, +and my propeller throbbed out over the water until I thought it must +reverberate across the world, and the Esquimaux on Franz Josef Land +and the Kanaka in the Pacific would hear it plain as the pulsing of a +battleship. However, I slowed the launch down to less than half-speed, +and the crew of the <i>Tarifa</i> made no account of me. The brigantine was +doing only a leisurely five knots--she was waiting for the dark, I +conjectured. Conjectured? I came near to praying it. And as if in +answer to my prayer--it sounds pretty much like blasphemy now, doesn't +it?--but at that moment I believed it--all at once her red light +vanished and my heart went jumping in the inside of me as though it +had slipped its moorings. For the <i>Tarifa</i> had changed her course; she +was pointing closer to the wind and the wind came offshore; she was +showing me her stern instead of her port beam; on the course she was +lying now she couldn't clear the Manacles--not by any manner of means. +She was heading for the anchorage I hoped she would; she was standing +in towards Helford river. In a little she went about, and seeing her +green light, I slowed down again. I could afford to take it easy."</p> + +<p class="normal">He drew a breath of relief and lolled back upon his seat. Miranda no +longer put questions; there was a look of discouragement upon her +face; she began bitterly to feel herself helpless in this man's hands, +as clay under the potter's thumb.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you know the creek?" he asked, and did not wait for an answer. "I +hadn't anchored there for twenty years, but I had a chart of it in my +memories." His voice softened, with perhaps some recollection of a +yachting trip in the days before his life had grown sour. "Steep hills +on each side, and on each side woods. The trees run down and thrust +their knees into the water like animals at their watering places of an +evening. A mile or so up, a little rose and honeysuckle village +nestles as pretty as a poem. There's a noise of birds all day, and all +night and day the trees talk. Given a westerly wind, and the summer, I +don't know many places which come up to Helford river," and his voice +ceased, and he sat in a muse. A movement at his side recalled him. +"But that's not business, you say," he resumed briskly. "I left the +<i>Tarifa</i> at the mouth of the creek. The little village a mile or more +up is on the southward side; opposite to it, on the Falmouth side, is +the coast-guard station; nearer to the mouth, and still on the +Falmouth side, a tiny dingle shelters a school-house and half-a-dozen +cottages, and still nearer, the road from Falmouth comes over the brow +of the hill and dips down along the hill-side. At one point the steep +hill-side is broken, there's an easy incline of sand and bushes and +soil between the water and the road. The incline is out of sight of +the coast-guard. Besides, it is only just round the point and close to +the sea. And for that reason I was in no particular hurry to follow +the <i>Tarifa</i>. I edged the launch close in under the point, waded +ashore, and scrambled along in the dark until I reached the break in +the hill-side. Then I lay down among the bushes and waited. All lights +were out on the <i>Tarifa</i>, but I could see her hull dimly, a blot of +solid black against the night's unsubstantial blackness. I waited for +centuries and æons. There was neither moon nor any star. At last I +heard a creaking sound that came from the other end of the world. It +was repeated, it grew louder, it became many sounds, the sounds or +cart wheels on the dry road. I looked at my watch; the glimmer of its +white face made it possible for me to tell the hour. It was five +minutes to eleven. For five minutes the sounds drew infinitesimally +nearer. Higher up the creek six bells were struck upon a yacht, and +then over the waters from the direction of the <i>Tarifa</i> came +cautiously the wooden rattle of oars in the rowlocks of a boat. A +boat, I say, but it was followed by another and another. The three +boats grounded on the sand as the carts reached the break in the +hill-side. There were few words spoken, and no light shown. I lay in +the bushes straining my ears to catch a familiar voice, my eyes on the +chance that a match might be struck and light up a familiar face."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well?" said Miranda, breaking in upon his speech. She was strung to a +high pitch or excitement, and her face and voice betrayed it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I was disappointed," replied Wilbraham, "but I saw something of the +cargo which the waggons brought over the hill and the boats carried on +board. Backwards and forwards between the <i>Tarifa</i> and the shore they +were rowed with unremitting diligence and caution, carrying first +longish packing-cases of some weight, as I could gather from the +conduct of the men who stumbled with them down the incline. And after +the packing-cases, square boxes, yet more unwieldy than the long +cases, if one takes the proportion of size. The morning was breaking +before the last boat was hoisted on board, and the last waggon had +creaked out of hearing over the hill."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And what was the cargo?" asked Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That was the question which troubled me," replied Wilbraham. "I lay +on the hill-side in the chill of the morning as disheartened a man as +you can imagine. Through a break in the bushes I watched the <i>Tarifa</i> +below me, her decks busy with the movement of her crew and from her +galley the comfortable smoke coiling up into the air. Breakfast! A +Gargantuan appetite suddenly pinched my stomach. Had Warriner gone on +board with the cargo? And what was the cargo? And into what harbour +would the <i>Tarifa</i> carry it? I had found out nothing. Then on board +the brigantine men gathered at the windlass, a chain clinked musically +as the anchor was hove short, the gaff of her mainsail creaked up the +mast, and the festoons of her canvas were unfolded. The <i>Tarifa</i> was +outward bound and I had discovered nothing. I was like a man tied hand +and foot and a treasure within his reach. I had had my fingers on the +treasure. Again the chain rattled on the windlass; she broke out her +foresail and her jib; I saw the water sparkle under her foot and +stream out a creaming pennant in her wake. I had lost. In the space of +a second I lived through every minute of my last fifteen years and +their dreary vicissitudes. I lived in anticipation through another +fifteen similar in every detail, and fairly shuddered to think there +might be another fifteen still to follow those. I stretched myself out +and ground my face in the sand and cursed God with all my heart for +the difference between man and man. And meanwhile the <i>Tarifa</i>, with a +hint of the sun upon her topsails, slipped out over the tide to sea."</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham's face was quite convulsed by the violence of his +recollections; and with so vivid a sincerity, with a voice so mutable, +had he described the growth and extinction of his hopes, that Miranda +almost forgot their object, almost found herself sympathising with his +endeavours, almost regretted their failure--until she remembered that +after all he had not failed, or he would not have been sitting beside +her in the Alameda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well," she said in a hard voice, "you failed. What then?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I crawled down to my launch, the cheapest man in the United Kingdom. +My engineer was muffled up in a pilot jacket and uncommon surly and +cheap too. I hadn't the pluck left in me to resent his impudence, and +we crept back to Falmouth. All the way I was pestered with that +question, 'What was the cargo I had seen shipped that night in Helford +river?' I couldn't get it out of my head. The propeller lashed it out +with a sort of vindictiveness. The little waves breaking ashore +whispered about it, as though they knew very well, but wouldn't peach. +When I had landed in Falmouth, I found that I was walking towards the +Free Library. The doors, however, were still closed. I breakfasted in +a fever of impatience and was back again at the doors before they were +opened. You may take it from me, Mrs. Warriner, I was the first +student inside the building that morning. I read over again every +scrap of news and comment about the inquest in Scilly which I could +pester the Librarian to unearth; and points which in my hurry I had +overlooked before, began to take an air of importance. The old man +Fournier, for instance; it seemed sort of queer that a taxidermist of +Tangier should come all the way to Scilly for a month's holiday. Eh, +what? What was old man Fournier doing at Scilly? Scilly's a likely +place for wrecks. Was old man Fournier a hanger-on upon chance, a +nautical Mr. Micawber waiting for a wreck to turn up which would suit +his purpose? Or had he stage-managed by some means or other the <i>coup +de theater</i> on Rosevear? It seemed funny that the short-sighted man +should spot the wreck on Rosevear before the St. Agnes men, eh? +Suppose M. Fournier and Ralph Warriner were partners in that pretty +cargo! I walked straight out of that library, feeling quite certain +that I held the right end of the skein. I had made a mistake in +following up Warriner. I ought to have followed up the taxidermist. I +walked about Falmouth all that day puzzling the business out; and I +came to the conclusion that the sooner I crossed to the Scillies the +better. I was by this time fairly excited, and I think I should have +spent my last farthing in the hunt even if I had known that when I had +run the mystery to earth, it would not profit me at all. I took a +train that very evening, and pottered about from station to station +all night. In the morning I got to Penzance, and kicked my heels on +the wharf of the little dock there until nine o'clock, when the +<i>Lyonnesse</i> started for St. Mary's. Three hours later I saw the +islands hump themselves up from the sea, and I stared and stared at +them till a genial being standing beside me said, 'I suppose you +haven't been home for a good many years.'--By the way, Mrs. Warriner," +he suddenly broke off, "I have heard that natural sherry is a drink in +some favour hereabouts. I can't say that it's a beverage I have ever +hankered after before, but what with the sun and the talk, the thought +of it is at the present moment most seductive. What if we rang down +the curtain for ten minutes and had an <i>entr'acte</i>, eh? Would you +mind?" And Wilbraham rose from his seat.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," said Miranda. "Please finish what you have to say now."</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham sighed, resumed his seat and at the same time his story.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_08" href="#div1Ref_08">EXPLAINS THE MYSTERY OF THE "TARIFA'S" CARGO</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">"At St. Mary's," he continued, "I called at once upon the doctor. +'Ah,' said he, 'liver, I suppose.'</p> + +<p class="normal">"'Permanently enlarged by excessive indulgence in alcohol,' said I. 'I +had once a very dear friend in the same case called Ralph Warriner.'"</p> + +<p class="normal">Here Miranda interrupted with considerable indignation. "There is not +a word of truth in that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is not," Wilbraham agreed pleasantly; "but I had to introduce +the subject some way, and my way was successful. 'Ralph Warriner!' +exclaimed the doctor. 'And what was he dismissed the service for?' I +winked very slowly, with intense cunning; 'I understand,' said the +doctor, with a leer, though Heaven only knows what he did understand; +I fancy he thought his reputation as a man of the world was at stake. +After that the conversation went on swimmingly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I was more than ever convinced that the discovery on Rosevear was a +put-up job. If so, old man Fournier must have been aware of that wreck +before he discovered it. He must have landed on the island and shoved +those papers into the dead man's pocket; and someone must have sailed +him out to the island. I determined to lay myself out to discover who +that someone was; but I went no farther than the determination. There +was not indeed any need that I should, for I sailed myself the next +day to Rosevear. I hired the <i>St. Agnes</i> lugger, and Zebedee Isaacs, +as he sat at the tiller, gave me news of old man Fournier. Old man +Fournier was a desperate coward on the sea, yet he had put out to the +Bishop on a most unpleasing day. It was old man Fournier who insisted +that they should run through the Neck and examine Rosevear, and when +Zebedee Isaacs declined the risk, old man Fournier flung himself in a +passion on the tiller and nearly swamped the boat. All very queer, eh? +M. Fournier must have had some fairly strong motive to nerve him to +that pitch of audacity. And what that motive was I should discover +when I discovered the nature of the <i>Tarifa's</i> cargo. I thought +perpetually about that cargo, all the way to Rosevear, and after I had +landed on that melancholy island. The truth came upon me in a moment +of inspiration. The ground I remember gave way under my foot. I had +trodden on a sea-bird's nest and stumbled forward on my knees, and +with the shock of the stumble came the inspiration. I remained on my +knees, with the gulls screaming overhead, and the grey wastes of ocean +moaning about the unkindly rocks. And I knew! The taxidermist from +Tangier, the longish packing-cases, the square boxes--Ralph Warriner +and old man Fournier were running guns and ammunition into Morocco!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda could not repress an exclamation. She had no doubt that +Wilbraham was right; the theory fitted in with Ralph's adventurous +character. M. Fournier no doubt made the arrangements, and provided +the capital; Ralph worked the cargo across from England to Morocco. +And to make it safe for himself to venture upon English soil, he had +altered the rig of the <i>Tarifa</i> in some unfrequented port, and somehow +arranged the deception concerning his death.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You think as I thought in Rosevear," said Wilbraham, looking shrewdly +into her face. "I only wish you could participate in the delight I +felt. I had my fingers on the secret now, and it was such a perfect, +profitable secret, for, quite apart from the other affair, gun-running +in Morocco is itself an offence against the law. I fairly hugged +myself. 'Ambrose,' said I, 'never in all your puff have you struck +anything like this. Fouché you shall trample under foot and Sherlock +Holmes shall be your washpot; you are the best in the world. The +faceless mariner was a fraud, a freak from Barnum's. Here at last is +Eldorado, and there's no fly anywhere upon the gilding.' Thus, Mrs. +Warriner, I soliloquised, and took the next boat back to Penzance; +from Penzance I travelled by train to Plymouth; from Plymouth I sailed +in an Orient boat to Gib, and from Gib I crossed to Tangier, where I +had a few minutes' conversation with one or two officers of the +custom-house.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Morocco as a social institution has many points of convenience which +it is useful for men like Warriner and myself to know. Here's a small +case in point. If you wish to smuggle forbidden goods into the +country, you hire the custom-house officials to unload your cargo for +you at night somewhere on the beach. Thus you avoid much trouble, all +chance of detection and you secure skilled workmen. I had no doubt +that Warriner had followed this course. So I hired the custom-house +officials to tell me the truth, and out it came. The <i>Tarifa</i> had +landed its cargo in the bay a mile and a half from Tangier a couple of +days before I arrived, and M. Fournier had supervised the unloading, +and the captain of the <i>Tarifa</i> was no longer the grizzled sea-dog, +Mr. Thomas Discipline, but a gentleman of a slight figure, blue eyes, +and fair hair. That middle-aged cherub, in a word, with whom you and I +are both familiar, and who now calls himself Mr. Jeremy Bentham. When +I had derived this information I walked into M. Fournier's shop and +bought a stuffed jackal. There was a tourist making purchases, so I +asked my question quietly as I leaned my elbows on the counter.</p> + +<p class="normal">"'How did you work the situation on Rosevear?' said I, 'and how's my +sweet friend, Ralph Warriner?'</p> + +<p class="normal">"The little Frenchman turned white and sick. He babbled expostulations +and denials. He demanded my name--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You gave him your card, I hope," interrupted Miranda, biting her lip. +Wilbraham gazed at her with admiration. "Well, you have got some +spirit. I will say that for you, Mrs. Warriner."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am not in need of testimonials," said Miranda. "What of M. +Fournier?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He talked to me mysteries after that. 'You were in Tangier a month +ago,' said he. 'You shouted "Look out!" through the door; you startled +a friend of mine; you are a coward.' Would you believe it, the little +worm turned? He flew into a violent passion; I suppose it was in just +such a passion that he flung himself on Zebedee Isaacs at Scilly. A +plucky little man for all his cowardice! He called me a number of ill +names. However, I had got what I wanted. I crossed back to Gibraltar, +and here I am."</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham crossed his legs, and with a polite "You will permit me?" +lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see," said Miranda, with a contemptuous droop of her lips. "Having +failed to blackmail M. Fournier and my husband, you fall back upon +blackmailing a woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham's answer to the sneer was entirely unexpected, even by +Miranda, who was prepared for the unexpected in this man. He showed no +shame; he did not try to laugh away the slur; but removing his +cigarette from his mouth, he turned deliberately his full face to her +and in a deliberate voice said: "I do not take the conventional view +upon these matters. And, all other things being equal, had I to choose +between a man and a woman, I should spare the man and strike the +woman."</p> + +<p class="normal">He spoke without any bitterness, but in a hard, calm voice, as though +he had sounded the question to the bottom. Miranda gasped, the words +for a second took her breath away, and then the blood came warmly into +her cheeks, and her eyes softened and brightened and she smiled. A +sudden glory seemed to illuminate her face. Wilbraham wondered why. He +could not know that the brutal shock of his speech had sent her +thoughts winging back to a balcony overlooking St. James's Park, where +a man had held a torn glove in his hand and in a no less decided voice +than Wilbraham's had spoken quite other words.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I never intended to address either Fournier or your husband upon the +subject of--shall we call it compensation? At the best I should have +got a lump sum now and again from them, and as I say, I have learnt my +lesson. If I had a lump sum, it would be spent, and I should again be +penniless. I apply to you because I propose a regular sum per annum +paid quarterly in advance."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda was still uplifted by the contrast between her recollections +and Wilbraham's words. She had the glove at home locked up, an +evidence that succour was very near--a hundred miles only down the +winding valley which faced her--and she had not even to say a word in +order to command it. When she spoke again to Wilbraham she spoke +emboldened by this knowledge.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And what if I were to refuse you even a shilling for your dinner?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should be compelled to lay my information before the proper +authorities, that Ralph Warriner is alive and may at times be captured +in England."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Would you be surprised to hear that Mr. Warriner committed no crime +for which he could be captured?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should be surprised beyond words. Mr. Warriner sold the mechanism +of the Daventry gun to a foreign government."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you so sure of that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I was his agent."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You! Then you are also his accomplice."</p> + +<p class="normal">"True,--and I look forward to turning Queen's evidence."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda withdrew from the contest. The discussion was hardly more than +academic, for she knew both that her husband was alive and that this +particular crime he had committed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What is your price?" she asked, and she sat down upon the bench.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham did not immediately reply. He took a pocket-book from his +coat and a letter from the pocket-book.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should wish you fully to understand the strength of my position," +he said. "This letter you will see is in your husband's handwriting. +This passage," and he folded the letter to show Miranda a line or two, +"enjoins me to be very careful about the plans. The gun is not +mentioned by name, but the date of the letter and the context leave no +possible doubt."</p> + +<p class="normal">He fluttered the letter under Miranda's eyes and within reach of her +fingers.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is my one piece of evidence, but a convincing piece."</p> + +<p class="normal">He made a pretence of dropping it at her feet and snatched it up +quickly. Then he replaced it in his pocket-book and shut up his +pocket-book with a snap.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why didn't you snatch at it?" he exclaimed with irritation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why did you wish me to snatch at it?" she replied.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because--because," he said angrily, "you have made me feel real mean, +as mean as a man in the commission of his first dishonourable act +towards a woman, and I wanted you to look mean at all events; it would +have made my business easier to handle. Well, let's have done with it. +I know Ralph Warriner is alive. I can give information which may lead +to his capture; and there's always the disgrace to publish."</p> + +<p class="normal">He blurted out the words, ashamed and indignant with her for the shame +he felt. Miranda, in spite of herself, was touched by Wilbraham's +manner, and she answered quite gently: "Very well. I will buy your +silence."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Coals of fire!" he replied with a sneer. Miranda understood that he +was defying her to make him feel ashamed. "Is that the ticket, Mrs. +Warriner? It won't lessen the amount of the per annum I can assure +you. What I propose is to live for the future in some more or less +quiet hole, where none of my acquaintances are likely to crop up. +Tarifa occurred to me; for one thing I can reach you from Tarifa; for +another I can do the royal act at Tarifa on a moderate income; for a +third it is a quiet place where I can have a shot at--well, at what I +want to do," and his voice suddenly became shy. She looked at him and +he coloured under her glance, and he shifted in his seat and laughed +awkwardly.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda was familiar with those signs and what they signified. +Wilbraham wanted her to ask him to confide in her. Many men at +Gibraltar had brought their troubles to her in just this way, with +just these marks of diffidence, this fear that the troubles would bore +her. She had been called upon to play the guardian-angel at times and +had not shrunk from the responsibility, though she had accepted it +with a saving modesty of humour at the notion of herself playing the +guardian-angel to any man.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What is it you want to do?" she asked, and Wilbraham confided in her. +The position was strange, no doubt. Here was a woman whom he had +bullied, whom he meant to rob, and on whom he meant to live until he +died, and he was confiding in her. But the words tumbled from his lips +and he did not think of the relationship in which he stood to her. He +was only aware that for fifteen years he had not shared a single one +of his intimate thoughts with either man or woman, and he was +surcharged with them. Here was a woman, frank, reliable, who asked for +his confidence, and he gave it, with a schoolboy's mixture of +eagerness and timidity.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you know," said he, "the Odes of Horace have never been well +translated into English verse by anyone? Some people have done an ode +or two very well, perhaps as well as it could be done--Hood for +instance tried his hand at it. But no one has done them all, with any +approach to success. And yet they ought to be capable of translation. +Perhaps they aren't--I don't know--perhaps they are too wonderfully +perfect. Probably I should make an awful hash of the job; but I think +I should like to have a shot. I began years and years ago when I was +an attaché at Paris, and--and I have always kept the book with me; but +one has had no time." As he spoke he drew from his side pocket a +little copy of Horace in an old light-brown cover of leather very much +frayed and scratched. "Look," said he, and half stretched it out to +her, as though doubtful whether he should put it into her hands or +refuse to let her take it at all. She held out her hand, and he made +up his mind and gave it into her keeping.</p> + +<p class="normal">The copy was dated 1767; the rough black type, in which all the s's +looked like f's, was margined by paper brown with age and sullied with +the rims of tumblers and the stains of tobacco; and this stained +margin was everywhere written over with ink in a small fine hand.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You see I have made a sort of ground-work," said Wilbraham, with a +deprecating laugh, as though he feared Miranda would ridicule his +efforts. The writing consisted of tags of verse, half-lines, here and +there complete lines, and sometimes, though rarely, a complete stanza. +"You must not judge by what you see there," he made haste to add. "All +I have written on the margin is purely tentative; probably it's no +good at all." Miranda turned over a page and came upon one ode +completely translated. "I did that," explained Wilbraham, "one season +when I shipped as a hand on a Yarmouth smack. We got bad weather on +the Dogger Bank, out in the North Sea at Christmas. We spent a good +deal of time hove to with the wheel lashed, and on night-watches I +used to make up the verses. Indeed, those night-watches seem the only +time I have had free during the last fifteen years. The rest of the +time--well, I have told you about it. I got through one complete ode +out in the North Sea, and did parts of others."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Warriner began to read the ode. "May I?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course," said he, with a flush of pleasure, and he watched her +most earnestly for the involuntary signs of approval or censure. But +her face betrayed neither the one nor the other; and he was quick to +apologise for the ode's shortcomings.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You mustn't think that I had a great deal of time on those +night-watches. For one thing we did not get over-much sleep on the +voyage, and so one's brains no doubt were a trifle dull. Besides, +there were always seas combing up above the bows and roaring along the +deck. You had to keep your eyes open for them and scuttle down the +companion before they came on board. Otherwise, if the weight of the +water took you, it was a case of this way to the pit. The whole hull +of the smack disappears, and you just see the foresail sticking up +from the hungry, lashing tumble of green water. So, you see, it stands +to reason that ode is subject to revision."</p> + +<p class="normal">But Miranda was not thinking of the ode. She had a vision of the smack +labouring on a black night in the trough of a black sea flecked with +white, at Christmas time, and a man on the watch, who had been an +attaché at Paris, and was, even with the rude sailor-folk for his +companions, engaged in translating Horace; and the vision had an +exquisite pathos for her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What was the beginning of it all?" she asked in a low voice, and +since Wilbraham was in the train of confidences, he told her that too.</p> + +<p class="normal">He told her perhaps more than he meant to tell. It was an old story, +the story of the faithless woman and the man who trusts her, and what +comes of it all. The story of Helen and Menelaus, but disfigured into +a caricature of its original by the paltriness of the characters and +the vulgarity of the incidents. The throb of primitive passion was +gone from the story, and therefore all dignity too. Subtle and +intricate trivialities of sentiment took the place of passion, and +made the episode infinitely mean. Menelaus was an attaché at Paris: +Helen lived at Knightsbridge, and the pair of them were engaged to be +married. Helen was faithless merely through a cheap vanity, and a +cheaper pose of wilfulness, and even so she was faithless merely in a +low and despicable way. It was an infidelity of innumerable +flirtations. She passed from arm to arm without intermission, and +almost allowed those who fondled her to overlap. Yet all the day she +talked of her pride, and was conscious of no inconsistency between the +vulgarity of her conduct and the high words upon her lips. She +practised all the small necessary deceits to conceal her various +meetings and appointments, and was unaware of the degradation they +involved; for still she talked loudly of her pride. And when Menelaus +lifted his hat and wished her good-morning, she only felt that she was +deeply aggrieved.</p> + +<p class="normal">Menelaus, however, was in no better case. He had not the strength to +thrust her from his mind, but let his thoughts play sensuously with +his recollections, until he declined upon a greater and a greater +weakness.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I went back to Paris," continued Wilbraham. "I had good prospects, +but they came to nothing. Even now men going in for Mods. have to get +up a book which I once wrote, and as for the service, if I were to +tell you my real name, it is just possible that you might have heard +it, for I was supposed to have done something quite decent at +Zanzibar. Well, I went back to Paris. It's a hard thing, you know, to +discover that the woman you have been working for, and in a way +succeeding for, isn't worth the nicotine at the bottom of your +pipe-bowl. At that time I reckon I would rather have been the wreck I +am now, and believed it was all my fault, for, you see, I might then +have imagined that if I had done all right, I should have won the +desirable woman.... Anyway, after I got back to Paris, a little while +after, there was trouble." Wilbraham examined his cane and drew +diagrams upon the ground. "The woman blabbed, in a moment of +confidence ... to her husband. There was a sort of a scandal.... I had +to go. I didn't blame the woman who blabbed; no, Mrs. Warriner, I +blamed the first woman, the woman in Knightsbridge. Was I right? I +came back to England. I was a second son, and my father slammed +the door in my face. Then, Mrs. Warriner, I blamed all women, +you--you--you amongst the others, even though I didn't know you." He +spoke in a gust of extraordinary violence, and so brought his +confidences to an end. "Now your income is--" he resumed, and fetched +out his pocket-book again. "I made a note about your estate when I was +doing business with Warriner," he said. "The note comes in usefully +now."</p> + +<p class="normal">He found the details of which he was in search, and made a neat little +sum at the corner of the leaf, to which Miranda paid no attention +whatsoever. The queer inclination towards pity which had moved her to +ask for his confidence, had been entirely and finally destroyed by the +confidence she had asked for. The story was so utterly sordid; the +characters in it so utterly puny. Before he told it he had acquired in +her eyes even a sort of dignity, the dignity of a man battered and +defeated in a battle wherein his wits were unequally matched against +the solid forces of order; but in the telling he had destroyed that +impression. Miranda had no feeling now but one of aversion for the +wreck of a man at her side. She looked at the Horace, which still lay +open on her lap, and the contrast between the fine scholar's +handwriting and the stains of the pothouse had no longer any power to +touch her. She set the book down on the bench, and stood up.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham stopped his calculations, and, with the stump of his pencil +in his mouth, looked at her alertly and furtively. She took a step or +two towards the parapet of the Alameda. Wilbraham instantly laid his +pocket-book on the seat with the pencil to mark the place, and without +any noise, stood up. Miranda reached the railings at the edge of the +gardens and leaned her arms upon it. The next moment she felt a firm +grip upon her elbow. She turned round and saw Wilbraham's face ablaze +with passion. "I suspected that," he said fiercely, "when first I saw +where you had brought me," and he shook her elbow.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Suspected what?" exclaimed Miranda, and she drew away to free herself +from his grasp. Wilbraham's next movement answered her question. For +he slipped between her and the railings with a glance at the precipice +below.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But you shall not do it," he continued. "I was robbed that way once +before; I'll take care the robbery is not repeated." He leaned his +back against the railings and shook his finger at her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Besides, there's no sense in it," and he jerked his head backwards to +signify the abysm. "You are crying out before you are hurt. You don't +even know how much I want; I shan't ruin you. I made a mistake that +way once; I had the best secret conceivable, and ran my man down +across two continents. Then I was fool enough to put my hand too deep +in his sky, and I suppose he thought--well, he blew his brains out +that night, and then was I robbed."</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Warriner stared at him with a growing horror in her eyes. "You +murdered him," she said slowly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"We won't quarrel over words," said Wilbraham, callously.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda walked back to the bench. She was not troubled to explain +Wilbraham's misconception of her movement. She was only anxious to be +rid of him. "What income do you want?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You have three thousand a year," he returned. "Of that I take it +Warriner takes a largish slice."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda flushed. "My husband has never asked for a farthing since the +<i>Ten Brothers</i> slipped out of Gibraltar. He has never received a +farthing," she said angrily.</p> + +<p class="normal">"An imprudent remark," said Wilbraham. "I might feel inclined to raise +my price."</p> + +<p class="normal">"At all events you shall not slander him."</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham looked at her with his head cocked on one side. "You are +very loyal," said he, with genuine admiration. "I will not raise my +price."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda did not, by any gesture or word, acknowledge his compliment. +She stood over against him with a face just as hard and white as he +had shown to her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I say seven hundred a year," he said briefly. "I will call for it +myself every quarter."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will send it to you," she interrupted.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I prefer to call for it," said he; for so he concealed his own +address and kept her within his reach. "You will not leave Ronda even +for a week without giving me due notice of your destination. I will +take a quarter's payment to-day. You draw on a bank in Ronda, I +suppose, so a cheque will serve."</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you will wait here, I will bring you the cheque."</p> + +<p class="normal">Twenty minutes afterwards she returned with it to the Alameda, where +she found Wilbraham seated on the bench with his Horace in his hand. +He put down the book awkwardly, and rose. He had the grace to feel +some discomfort as he took the cheque, and that discomfort his manner +expressed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda had no word, no look, for him. He stood perhaps for the space +of a minute fingering the cheque. Then he said suddenly: "I can't +imagine what a woman like you sees in Ralph Warriner to trouble about. +In your place I should have let him go his own way, without paying to +keep him out of prison."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda kept her reasons to herself, as she had done with the reason +of her return to Ronda. She waited for him to go, and he walked +sullenly away--for ten yards. Then he returned, for he had left his +copy of Horace lying upon the bench. He picked it up with a curious +and almost timorous glance of appeal towards Miranda. She did not move +but waited implacably for his departure. Wilbraham worked his +shoulders in discomfort.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My clothes don't fit and God hates me," he cried irritably. Then this +jack-in-the-box of fortune slunk out of her sight.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_09" href="#div1Ref_09">SHOWS THE USE WHICH A BLIND MAN MAY MAKE +OF A DARK NIGHT A WEEK</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">A week after Wilbraham's departure from Ronda, the night fell very dark +at Tangier. In the Sôk outside the city gate, the solitary electric lamp +from its tall mast threw a pale light over a circle of the trampled +grass, but outside the circle all was black. There was no glimmer in +the tents of the shoemakers at the upper corner of the Sôk; nor was +there any stir or noise. For it was past midnight and the world was +asleep--except at one spot on the hill-side above the Sôk, and a +little distance to the right.</p> + +<p class="normal">There a small villa, standing by itself, shone gaudily in the heart of +the blackness. From its open windows a yellow flood of light streamed +out, and besides the light, the music of a single violin and the +rhythmical beat of feet. There were other noises too, such as the +popping of corks, and much laughter.</p> + +<p class="normal">Outside the villa, and beyond the range of its light, a man and a boy +sat patient and silent. The man for his sole clothing wore a sack, but +a dark cloak lay on the ground beside him. With his hands he +continually tested a cord twisted from palmetto fibres, as though +doubtful of its strength. At length the door of the villa opened.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who comes out?" asked the man.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A man and a woman," answered the boy.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Describe the man to me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Big, fat--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That is enough."</p> + +<p class="normal">The man and the woman passed through the little garden of the villa, +and walked down across the Sôk towards the city gate. The door opened +again and again. There was a continual sound of leave-taking in +different languages, mostly German and French, and between the man and +the boy the same dialogue was repeated and repeated. Some wore evening +dress, others did not. Some walked across the Sôk, others rode.</p> + +<p class="normal">"They are all gone," said the boy.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wait," commanded the man.</p> + +<p class="normal">"They are putting out the lights."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are all the lights out?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, one light is burning."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wait!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The door opened again, and two men in evening dress came out on to the +steps.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There are two men," said the boy, "but only one wears a hat."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Describe him to me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He is not tall, he is thin, but I cannot see his face for his hat."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Look! look well!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He goes back into the house. He takes off his hat. Wait! He is +smoking. He strikes a match and holds it to his mouth. I can see him +now."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well! Of what colour is his hair?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very fair--yellow. His face is round, his eyes are light."</p> + +<p class="normal">The man in the sack ceased from his questions, but he gave no sign of +either approval or disappointment. He sat still in the darkness until +a voice from the little garden cried out with a French accent: "I +cannot think what has come to the beast. He has got loose. And he was +hobbled, Jeremy. You did hobble him, <i>hein?</i>"</p> + +<p class="normal">The boy began to laugh. "The little fat Christian is looking for the +mule in the garden," said he. "Hush!" whispered the man, laying his +hand upon the boy's mouth. "Listen! What does the other answer? Listen +for his voice."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He does not answer," returned the boy. "He leans against the door, +and smokes and waits, while the little fat Room searches for the +mule."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Help to find the mule!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The boy laughed again, rose from the ground, and disappeared into the +darkness. In a few minutes he returned, driving the mule in front of +him. He drove it through the wicket of the garden. A few words passed +between the little Frenchman and the boy. Then the boy came back to +the man seated patiently outside the rim of the villa's lights.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What did he say to thee?" said the man.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He asked me if I had stolen the hobbles."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And thou didst answer?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That I knew nothing of the hobbles. I said that I had found the mule +loose in the Sôk, and seeing the lights, brought it to the house."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is well. Now go, my son; go home and sleep, and forget the hours +we have waited in the darkness outside the villa of the Room. Forget, +so that in the morning they shall never have been. Go! God will reward +thee!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The boy turned upon his heel, and ran down towards the town. The man +was left alone. He remained squatting on the ground. He heard the +French voice exclaim: "Good-night, Jeremy."</p> + +<p class="normal">But no answering voice returned the wish. Jeremy indeed contented +himself with a careless nod of the head, mounted his mule, and passed +out of the wicket gate. Jeremy passed within ten yards of the man +seated upon the ground, who heard the padding of the mule's feet upon +the grass and smelt the cigar.</p> + +<p class="normal">He did not move, however. A road ran between this stretch of grass and +the Sôk beyond, and he waited until the mule's hooves rang upon it. +Then he picked up the dark cloak by his side and ran swiftly and +noiselessly down the grass, across the road, over the trampled Sôk. +Ahead of him he heard the leisurely amble of the mule.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Stop!" he cried out in the Moghrebbin dialect. "I have the hobbles of +the most noble one."</p> + +<p class="normal">He heard the mule stop, and ran lightly forward.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who is it?" asked Jeremy, in the same tongue, as he bent round in his +saddle.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hassan Akbar," cried the other, leaping at the point from which the +voice came. "Bentham, it is Hassan Akbar."</p> + +<p class="normal">The man addressed as Bentham turned quickly in his saddle with a cry +and gathered up the reins; but he was too late. Even the cry was +stifled upon his lips. For Hassan threw the cloak over his head, +gathered it in tight round his neck, and still holding him by the +neck, dragged him out of the saddle and flung him on to the ground. +Bentham, half-throttled, half-stunned, lay for a moment or two upon +his back, limp and unresisting. When he came to himself, it was no +longer within his power to resist, for Hassan knelt straddled across +his body, pinning him to the ground with the weight of his stature. +One bony knee pressed upon his chest insufferably. Bentham's ribs +cracked under it; he felt that his ribs were being driven into his +lungs. The other knee held down his thighs, and while he lay there +incapable of defence, Hassan bound his arms tightly together with the +cord of palmetto fibres.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham tried to shout, but the cloak was over his mouth: the knee was +grinding and boring into his chest, and his shout was an exiguous wail +which, when it had penetrated the cloak, was no more than a sigh. He +waited for the moment when the knee would be removed, and waited +motionless without a twitch of his muscles, so that Hassan might be +deceived into the belief that he had swooned, and remove his knee and +the cloak.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan removed his knees, bent down to Bentham, twined one arm about +his legs, thrust the other underneath his neck, and lifted him from +the ground as though he was a child. Bentham was now less able to +shout than before, for the hand of the arm which was about his neck +pressed the cloak close upon his mouth.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham struggled for his breath; Hassan's arms only tightened their +grip and held him like a coil of wire. An utter terror seized upon +Bentham. He remembered the darkness of the night, the lateness of the +hour, the silence of the Sôk, and from the manner of Hassan's walk, he +knew that he was being carried up the hill and away from Tangier. He +was helpless in the hands of a Moor whom he had irreparably wronged. +Death he knew he must expect; the question which troubled him was what +kind of death.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan's foot struck against a rope drawn tight across his path, and +in Bentham hope for a moment revived. The rope was the stay of a tent, +no doubt. What if Hassan had lost his way and stumbled among the tents +of the shoemakers? But Hassan loosened the grip of the arm which held +his legs, and Bentham heard him fumbling with his hand for the +door-flap of the tent. Plainly Hassan had not missed his way.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan dropt him on the ground, thrust him through the small opening, +and crawled in after him. Then he knelt beside Bentham, turned back +the cloak from his face, but tied it securely about his mouth. Bentham +could now see, and the flap of the tent was open. The tent was indeed +one of the low, tiny gunny-bag tents of the shoemakers, but it was set +far apart from that small cluster, as Bentham recognized in despair, +for through the aperture he could see a long way below him and a long +way to his right the electric light in the middle of the Sôk.</p> + +<p class="normal">Outside the tent there was a sound of something moving. Bentham sat up +and tore at his gag with his bound hands.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why cry for help to a mule?" said Hassan, calmly. "Will a mule help +thee?" He leaned forward and tightened the knot which fastened the +cloak at the back of his head. Then he crawled out of the tent and +Bentham heard him tethering the mule to one of the tent-pegs.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham was thus left alone. He had a few seconds, and he had at once +to determine what use he would make of those seconds. There was not +enough time wherein to free his hands. It would have been sheer waste +of time to free his mouth from the cloak. For none was within earshot +of that tent who would be concerned to discover the reason of a cry, +and the cry would not be repeated, since Hassan outside the tent was +still within arm's reach.</p> + +<p class="normal">Instead, he hitched and worked his white waistcoat upwards from the +bottom, leaning forward the while, until his watch fell from the +pocket and dangled on the end of the chain; after his watch a metal +pencil-case rolled out and dropped between his knees. One of the two +things he meant to do was done. Hassan had bound his hands not palm +to palm, but wrist across wrist; and raising his hands he was able +with the tips of his right-hand fingers to feel in the left-hand +breast-pocket of his dress-coat. His fingers touched a small +pocket-book, opened it, and plucked out a leaf of paper. This leaf and +the pencil-case he secreted in the palm of his hand.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan crawled back into the tent and closed the flap. Bentham, with +his knees drawn up to his chin, crouched back against the wall of the +tent. Now that the flap was closed, it was pitch-dark; that, however, +made no difference to Hassan Akbar, who lived in darkness, and out of +the darkness his voice spoke.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The ways of God are very wonderful. You gave me this tent. With the +dollar you dropped on my knees at the gate of the cemetery, I bought +this tent and set it up here apart, to keep you safe for the little +time before you start upon your journey."</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham took no comfort from the passionless voice, though his heart +leaped at the words. He was not then to be killed. He did not answer +Hassan, but remained crouched in his corner.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now the dog of a Christian will speak," said Hassan, quietly. Bentham +made no movement. Hassan crawled towards him, felt his feet, his +up-drawn knees, and reaching his face untied the cloak from his mouth. +"Now the dog of a Christian will speak," he repeated softly, in a low +gentle voice, "so that I may know it is indeed Bentham, who took +shelter with me at Tangier, and ate of my <i>kouss-kouss</i>, and +thereafter betrayed me."</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham did not reply. If Hassan had a doubt, then it was his part to +make the most of it to prolong the solution of the doubt, to defer it, +if it might be, till the morning came. This was summer--July--the +morning comes early in July, not so early as in June, but still early. +Would that this had happened one month back!</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan kneeled upon his hams by Bentham's side. "Will not the dog of a +Christian speak?" he asked in a wheedling voice, which daunted and +chilled the man he spoke to. "Let us see!" And again his sinuous hands +lingered and stole over Bentham's face. The thumbs lingered about +Bentham's eyes.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham shivered; but still, though the desire to shout, to curse, to +relieve by some violence, if only of speech, the tension he was +suffering, was strong, he mastered himself, he held his tongue, for if +once he did speak he betrayed himself. His only chance lay in Hassan's +doubt, which lived upon his silence. Again Hassan's fingers returned +to his face. Bentham closed his eyes; the thumbs touched and retouched +them, now pressing gently upon the eyeballs, now working about the +corners of the sockets. Finally Hassan snatched his hands away. "If I +did that," he murmured, "they would not take him, for he would fetch +no price;" and Bentham understood the fate which was in store for +him--if he spoke.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan left his side, and was busy in a corner of the tent, at what +Bentham could not for the moment discover. He heard a cracking of +twigs; what was to follow? One instant he dreaded, the next he burned +to know, and all the while he shivered with terror. Hassan struck a +match and lit the twigs, and breathed upon the little blue flames, +until they warmed to yellow, and spirted up into a fire.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham watched Hassan's gaunt, disfigured, inexpressive face, as he +crouched over the twigs, and his terror increased. He saw that he held +something in each hand, something that flashed bright, like a disk of +iron. Hassan laid the disks upon the twigs; they were the hobbles +which Bentham had placed upon his mule early that evening.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham began to count the seconds; at any moment the morning might +begin to break, surely, surely. As he watched the hobbles growing hot +and the sparks dance upon the iron, he continued to count the seconds, +not knowing what he did, and at an incredible speed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan picked up the hobbles, each with a cleft stick, and brought +them over to Bentham. "Now the dog of a Christian will speak," said +he.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham summoned all his courage, all his strength, and was silent. +Hassan reached out his hands, and drew his legs from under him, and +fitted the hobbles over his slippers, and fixed them round his ankles +like a pair of fetters.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bentham uttered a cry--it was almost a scream--as the iron burnt into +his flesh. He kicked, he struggled to free his legs, to free his +hands; but Hassan Akbar dragged him forward, thrust him down upon his +back, and pinned his shoulders to the ground. Bentham could do no more +than vainly writhe in convulsive movements of his limbs. The hot iron +rings clung to his ankles; the smoke from the wood fire choked him; +the smell of burning flesh was acrid in his nostrils. Agony redoubled +his strength, but even so, he was too crippled, and Hassan's grasp +upon his shoulders did not relax.</p> + +<p class="normal">In the end Hassan had his heart's desire, and Bentham spoke. He spoke +too in the low voice which Hassan enjoined, though he used it without +thought to obey,--low, voluble, earnest prayers for mercy, and then +again voluble curses, and again voluble appeals for pity, and at the +end of it a broken whimpering, as though his strength was gone, and +the convulsive jerks which a fish makes in a basket.</p> + +<p class="normal">All the while Hassan held him down, listening to the appeals, the +prayers, the curses, with an untouched gravity of face. "It is indeed +you; I have made no mistake," and he freed him from the burning +fetters, and opened the flap of the tent. Bentham rolled over on his +side with his face to the opening, and lay there shaking, moaning. +"Now I will tell you what I have planned for you," continued Hassan. +"I thought at first to kill you, but it is so small a thing. Then I +remembered words you once told me, that you had trouble with your own +people, and could not ask them for protection. So friends of mine from +Beni Hassan, who go upon their way to-night, will take you with them, +and sell you when they are far away. And for the rest of your days you +will carry loads upon your back up and down the inlands of Morocco, +and your masters will beat you, and if you faint and are tired, they +will do strange things to make you suffer, even as I did with the +hobbles. Lo, here my friends come!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The sound of steps came to their ears. A few moments later a hand +fumbled at the flap of the tent, opened it, and a head was thrust in. +"Is it you, Hassan Akbar?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," replied Hassan; "and here is the Room whom you promised to take +out of my path. He will fetch a price, and besides I give to you his +mule, which you will find tethered to the tent."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And the saddle too, Hassan, is it not so?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is."</p> + +<p class="normal">Meanwhile Hassan cut Bentham's clothes from him as he lay upon the +ground, and taking off his own sack, cast it for a garment over +Bentham's shoulders, and wrapped himself in the dark cloak. In the +place of that cloak he tied over Bentham's mouth a thick rag. Then he +thrust him out of the tent, and jerked him on to his feet. Bentham +made no longer any resistance; he let them do with him as they were +pleased; and he stood tottering and swaying.</p> + +<p class="normal">Five Arabs waited outside the tent. "He cannot walk, he shall ride the +mule this night," said the chief of them. "To-morrow he shall learn to +walk."</p> + +<p class="normal">They hoisted Bentham on to the back of the mule, and tied him there +with leathern thongs. Then they started on their long journey.</p> + +<p class="normal">The cool night air after the stifling tent revived the man who +perforce rode the mule. It did not give him strength to resist, or as +yet even the impulse to cry out; but it restored to him the power to +hear and to understand. What he heard was a distant clock below him in +Tangier striking an hour; what he understood was that the hour it +struck was only one o'clock.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_10" href="#div1Ref_10">M. FOURNIER EXPOUNDS THE ADVANTAGES WHICH +EACH SEX HAS OVER THE OTHER</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">The long interview with Wilbraham in the Alameda of Ronda had +consequences for Miranda which she felt but did not trace to their +source. It was not merely that she sickened at the vulgar, futile +story of his ruin; that she saw in imagination the wretched victim he +had run to earth across two continents, closing the door and slipping +the pistol-barrel between his teeth; that she loathed the knowledge +that this man was henceforward her gaoler; but she took him and the +bitter years of her marriage together in her thoughts, and using them +as premisses began doubtfully to draw universal conclusions.</p> + +<p class="normal">These conclusions Miranda hazarded at times in the form of questions +to her companion Jane Holt, and sought answers from her as from one +who had great experience of the tortuous conduct of men. Were men +trustworthy at all? If so, were there any means by which a woman could +test their trustworthiness? These two questions were the most constant +upon Miranda's tongue, and Jane Holt answered them with assurance, and +in her own way.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham had not erred when he described her as a sentimentalist with +grievances. Sentimentalism was the shallows of her nature, and she had +no depths. Her conversation ran continually upon the "big things," as +she termed them, such as devotion, endurance, self-sacrifice, and the +rest, in which qualities men were singularly deficient. She meant, +however, only devotion to her, endurance of her, self-sacrifice for +her, of which it was not unnatural that men should tire, seeing who it +was that demanded them. Yet she had enjoyed her share, and more than +her share. For though incapable of passion herself, she had in her +youth possessed the trick of inspiring it, but without the power, +perhaps through her own incapacity, of keeping it alive, and no doubt +too because upon a moderate acquaintance she conveyed an impression of +inherent falsity. For, being a sentimentalist, she lived in a false +world, on the borders of a lie, never quite telling it perhaps, and +certainly never quite not telling it. She was by nature exigent, for +she was in her own eyes the pivot of her little world, and for the +wider world beyond, she had no eyes whatever. And her exigence took +amusing or irritating shapes according to the point of view of those +who suffered it. For instance, you must never praise her costumes, of +which she had many, and those worthy of praise, but the high qualities +of her mind, which were few and often of no taste whatever. It should +be added that she had always favoured an inferior before an equal. For +it pleased her above all things to condescend, since she secured thus +a double flattery, in the knowledge of her own condescension, and in +the grateful humility of those to whom she condescended.</p> + +<p class="normal">It can be foreseen, then, what answers this woman,--who was tall, and +still retained the elegance of her figure, and would have still +retained the good looks of her face, but that it was written upon by +many grievances--would give to Miranda's questions.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You can trust no men. You must bribe them with cajoleries; you must +play the coquette; you must enlist their vanity. They are all trivial, +and the big things do not appeal to them."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda listened. She was accustomed to Jane Holt, and had no longer a +reasoned conception of her character. Habit had dulled her +impressions. She remembered only that Jane Holt had had much +experience of men wherein she herself was wofully deficient. Jane Holt +embroidered her theme; a pretty display of petulance, the seemingly +accidental disclosure of an ankle, a voluntary involuntary pressure of +the arm, these things had power to persuade the male mind, such as it +is, and to enmesh that worthless thing the male heart.</p> + +<p class="normal">"One might have a man for a friend, perhaps," suggested Miranda, +hopefully.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My poor Miranda!" exclaimed Miss Holt. "No wonder your marriage was a +failure. Men pretend friendship for a woman at times, but they mean +something else."</p> + +<p class="normal">The moral was always that they were not to be trusted, and Miranda, +vividly recollecting Ralph Warriner and Wilbraham, listened and +wondered, listened and wondered, until she would rise of a sudden and +take refuge in her own parlour, of which the window looked out across +the valley to the hills, where she would sit with a throbbing forehead +pressed upon her palms, certain, certain, that the homily was not +true, and yet half distracted lest it should be true.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the morrow of one such conversation, and one such flight, Miss Holt +came into the little parlour--a cool, dark-panelled, low-roofed room +of which the door gave on to the patio--and found Miranda searching +the room.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you know what month this is?" Miss Holt asked severely.</p> + +<p class="normal">"October."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite so," and great emphasis was laid upon the words.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know," replied Miranda, penitently, as she crossed over to a table +and lifted the books. "We have been here all the summer; it has been +very hot. I am sorry, but I was compelled to stay. I did not know what +might occur, and," she anxiously turned over the letters and papers on +her writing-table in the window, "it was some comfort, I admit, to +feel that one was near--" She stopped suddenly and resumed in +confusion, "I mean I did not know what might happen."</p> + +<p class="normal">Jane Holt looked at her with great displeasure, but said nothing +until Miranda began hurriedly to open and shut the drawers of her +writing-table. Then she said irritably: "What in the world are you +looking for?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda stood up and looked round the room. "There was a glove," she +said absently.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, I threw it away."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Threw it away!" Miranda stared at Jane Holt with a look of complete +dismay. "You don't mean that. Oh, you can't mean it!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Indeed I do; it was torn across the palm."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I left it lying there, on my writing-desk, yesterday, after you and I +had been talking--" She left the sentence unfinished.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, and I found it there. It was torn, so I had it thrown away."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda rang a hand-bell, and ordered search to be made for the glove. +It could not be found; it had been burnt with the answered letters.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very well," said Miranda, and the servant retired. Miranda sat down, +and showed to Jane Holt a face of which the expression was almost +scared.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What does it matter?" exclaimed Jane. "The glove was torn; you could +never have used it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," answered Miranda, quickly, almost guiltily it seemed. "I should +never have used it; I never meant to use it. The glove was only a +symbol; it was no more than that, it represented a belief. I can +retain the belief, no doubt. No doubt, though, I have lost the +glove--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What in the world are you talking about?" interrupted Jane Holt.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nothing, nothing," answered Miranda, with a start. The loss of the +glove had so dismayed her that she had forgotten who it was she had +been speaking to, or indeed that she was speaking to anyone. She had +merely uttered her thoughts, for she had come to look upon that glove, +which, under no circumstances, would she use, as none the less a +safeguard, and of late, in particular, she had fallen into a habit of +taking it from the drawer in which it rested and setting it before her +eyes; of stating it, as it were, as a refutation of Jane Holt's ready +opinions.</p> + +<p class="normal">Jane Holt shook her head. "You have changed very much towards me, +Miranda. You are growing secret. I don't want to know. I would not +press anyone for their confidence; but I may think it strange, I +suppose?" She folded her arms across her breast and tapped with her +fingers upon her elbows. "I suppose I may think it strange; and if +anyone took the trouble to give me a thought, perhaps anyone might +believe that I had a right to feel hurt. But I don't! Please don't run +away with that idea! No, I cannot allow you, Miranda, to fancy for a +moment that I should feel hurt. But I do notice that you jump whenever +there is a knock at the door. There! What did I say?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The door of the parlour stood open to the patio; in the corner of the +opposite side of the patio there was the mouth of a passage which led +to the outer door; and upon that outer door just at this moment +someone rapped heavily, as though he came in haste. Miranda started +nervously, and to cover the movement, rose from her chair and closed +the door.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And as for the glove," resumed Jane Holt, who found it difficult to +leave any subject alone when it was evident that it was unwelcome, +"you could never have used it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," answered Miranda, thoughtfully. "Of course--of course, I could +never have used it;" and a servant entered the room and handed to her +a card on which was engraved M. Fournier's name and address.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda held the card beneath her eyes for some little while. Then she +walked out into the patio, where M. Fournier awaited her. He came +towards her at once, in an extreme agitation, but she signed to him to +be silent, and opening a second door on the same side of the patio as +the door of her parlour, but farther to the right, she led the way +into a tiny garden rich with deep colours. Jonquils, camellias, roses, +wild geraniums, and pinks, tended with a care which bespoke a mistress +from another country, made a gay blaze in the sun, and sweetened the +air with their delicate perfumes.</p> + +<p class="normal">The garden was an irregular nook with something or the shape of a +triangle, enclosed between the back wall of the house and a wing flung +out at a right angle. The base of the triangle was an old brick wall, +breast-high, which began at the end of the house wall and curved +outwards until it reached the wing. Over this wall the eye looked +through air to the olive-planted slope of a mountain. For the house +was built on the brink of the precipice, it was in a line with the +Alameda, though divided from it by the great chasm, and if one leaned +over the crumbling wall built long ago by the Moors, one had an +impression that one ought to see the waves churning at the foot of the +rock and to hear a faint moaning of the sea; so that the sight of the +level carpet of the plain continually surprised the eyes.</p> + +<p class="normal">Into this garden Miranda brought M. Fournier. No windows overlooked +it, for those which gave light to Miranda's parlour were in the end +and the other side of the wing, and so commanded the valley without +commanding this enclosure. A little flagged causeway opened a path +between the flowers to the nook between the wing of the house and the +old wall, where two lounge chairs invited use.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda seated herself in one of these chairs and with a gesture +offered the other to M. Fournier. M. Fournier, however, took no heed +of the invitation. He had eyes only for Miranda's face. He held his +hat in one hand, and with a coloured handkerchief continually mopped +his forehead, a dusty perspiring image of anxiety.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You come from my husband?" said Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier's face lightened. "Ah, then, you know--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That he is alive? Yes. You come from him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"From him, no; on his behalf, yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda smiled at the subtle distinction. "You need money, of course," +she said drily. "How much do you want? You have, no doubt, some +authority from my husband."</p> + +<p class="normal">The little Belgian's anxiety gave place to offended pride. "We do not +need money, neither he nor I; but as for authority, perhaps this will +serve."</p> + +<p class="normal">He drew from his pocket a soiled scrap of paper and handed it to +Miranda. The paper, as she could see from the blue lines, the shape, +and the jagged border, had been torn from a small pocketbook. It was +so crumpled and soiled that a few words scribbled with a pencil on the +outside in Arabic were barely visible. Miranda unfolded the paper +slowly, for the mere look of it was sinister. The words within were +written also in pencil, and her face altered as she read them.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What does J. B. mean?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"J. B. are the initials of the name he took."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are sure this comes from my husband? I do not recognise his +hand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite sure."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here is bad news," said she, and she conned the words over again, and +could nowhere pick out the familiar characteristics of Ralph +Warriner's handwriting. The words themselves were startling. <i>Reward +the bearer well, and for God's sake do quickly what you can</i>. But more +startling, more significant, than the words was the agitation of the +writer's hand. Haste and terror had kept the hand wavering. Here the +pencil had paused, yet even when pausing, its point had trembled on +the paper, as the blurred dots showed. Miranda imagined that so it had +paused and trembled, while someone walked by the writer's back and had +but to glance over his shoulder to discover the business he was +engaged upon. Then again the pencil had raced on, running the words +one into the other, fevered to get the message done. A whole tragedy +was indicated in the formation of the letters. Or a malady? Miranda +turned eagerly to the letter. The writing wavered up and down. The +small letters were clear; the capitals and the long letters, the +"f's," the "q's," the "y's," weak, as though the fingers could not +control the pencil. Illness might account for the message, and Miranda +chose that supposition.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He is lying very ill somewhere," she said.</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier shook his head. "No. I tried to believe that myself at +first; but I never did believe it, and I thought and thought and +thought--<i>Tenez</i>, look!" He drew a piece of blank paper from one +pocket, a pencil from another. The paper he spread upon his knee, the +pencil he took between his teeth; then he held out his wrists.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now fasten them together."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda uttered a cry. Her face grew very white. "What with?" she +asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your belt."</p> + +<p class="normal">She unclasped her belt from her waist and strapped Fournier's wrists +together.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Tighter," said he, "tighter. Now see!"</p> + +<p class="normal">With great difficulty and labour he copied out Warriner's message on +the blank paper; and while he wrote Miranda saw the sentence wavering +up and down, the small letters coming out clear and small, the long +strokes and tails straggling. She seized the copy almost before he had +finished, and held it side by side with the original. There was a +difference, of course, the difference which stamped one man's hand as +Warriner's and the other as Fournier's, the difference of fear, but +that was the only difference. The method in each case was identical; +the same difficulties had produced the same results.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There can be no doubt, <i>hein?</i>" asked Fournier, as Miranda unfastened +the belt.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How did this come to you?" she returned.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I tell you," said he, "from the beginning. Bentham--that is what M. +Warriner calls himself now, Bentham--Jeremy Bentham he calls himself, +because he says he's such an economist--well, he and I are partners in +a little business, and we have prospered. So when Bentham came back +from Bemin Sooar to Tangier a week ago, I give a dinner in my house to +a few friends and we dance afterwards. Perhaps ten or eleven of us and +Bentham. Bentham he came and danced and he was the last to go away. He +did not stay in my house--it was better for our little business that +we should not be thought more than mere friends. He had a lodging in +the town, while my house was outside up the hill. He rode away alone +on a mule, for he was in evening dress and one cannot walk across the +Sôk in dancing shoes, and he never reached his lodging. He +disappeared. I heard no word of him, until yesterday; yesterday about +mid-day, an Arab brought that scrap of paper to my shop."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But the Arab told you how and where he got it?" said Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes. He belonged to a douar, a tent village, you understand. The +village is three days from Tangier on the road to Mequinez. The Arab +was leading down his goats to the water a week ago, in the morning, +when six men passed him at a distance. They were going up into the +country; they had a mule with them. He watched them pass and noticed +that one of them would now and then loiter and fall a little behind, +whereupon the rest beat him with sticks and drove him again in front. +And he did not resist, Madame, I am afraid we know why he did not +resist."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda pressed her hands to her forehead.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well," she said with an effort, and her voice had sunk to a whisper, +"finish, finish!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It seemed to the Arab," continued Fournier, whose anxiety seemed in +some measure to diminish, and whose face grew hopeful as he watched +Miranda's increasing distress, "that this victim made a sign to him, +and when the party had gone by he noticed something white gleaming on +the brown soil in the line of their march. He went forward and picked +it up. It was this piece of paper. He read the writing on it, these +marks." M. Fournier turned over the sheet, and pointed to the +indecipherable Arabic. "They mean, 'Take this to Fournier at Tangier +and you will get money.' He opened it, he could not read the inside, +but seeing that it was written in one of the languages of the +Nazarenes, he thought there might be some truth in the promise. So he +brought the paper to Tangier yesterday and I have brought it to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier settled his glasses upon his nose and leaned forward for +his answer. Miranda sat with knitted brows, gazing out to the dark +mountains. Fournier would not interrupt her; he fancied she was +searching her wits for a device to bring help to Warriner; but, +indeed, she was not thinking at all.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda had a trick of seeing pictures. She was not given to arguments +and inferences; but a word, a sentence, would strike upon her hearing, +and at once a curtain was rolled up somewhere in her mind, and she saw +men moving to and fro and things happening as upon a lighted stage. +Such pictures made up her arguments, her conclusions, even her +motives; and it was because of their instant vividness that she was so +rapidly moved to sympathy and dislike. So now there was set before her +eyes the picture of a man riding down the hill of Tangier at night in +the civilisation of evening dress, and, as she looked, it melted into +another in which the same man, clad in vile rags, with his hands +bound, was flogged forwards under a burning sun into the barbaric +inlands of Morocco. She saw that brutal party, the five gaolers, the +one captive, straggle past the tent village. She guessed at Ralph's +despairing glance as though it was directed towards herself, she saw +the scrap of paper flutter white upon the dark soil. And as she +contemplated this vision, she heard M. Fournier speaking again to her; +but the sound of his voice had changed. He was no longer telling his +story; he was pleading with a tenderness which had something +grotesquely pathetic, when she considered who it was for whom he +pleaded. His foreign accent became more pronounced, and the voluble +words tumbled one over the other.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So M. Warriner does not ask you for money; that sees itself, is it +not? Nor even does he ask you for help. Be sure of that, Madame; read +the note again. He would not come to you for help; he is not so mean; +he has too much pride;" and as Mrs. Warriner smiled, with perhaps a +little bitterness, M. Fournier, noticing her smile, became yet more +astonishing and intricate in his apologies. "He take your money, oh +yes, I know very well, while he is with you; but then you get his +company in exchange. That make you both quits, eh? But once he has +gone away, he would not come back to you for money or help at all. He +has so much pride. Oh no! He just take it from the first person he +meet, me or anyone else. He has so much pride; besides, it would be +simpler. No! It is I who come to you. He often speak to me of you--oh, +but in the highest terms! And I say to myself: That dear Ralph, he is +difficult to live with. He is not a comfortable friend. We know that, +Mrs. Warriner and I, but we both love him very much--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The emphatic interruption fairly startled M. Fournier. Miranda had +risen from her seat and stood over him. He would not have believed +that so gentle a face could have taken on so vigorous an expression. +He stammered a protest. Miranda repeated her denial: "No, no, no!" she +cried. "Let us be frank!"</p> + +<p class="normal">She turned aside from him, and leaning her elbows upon the crumbling +parapet of the wall, looked across the valley and down the cliff's +side where one road was cut in steep zigzags, and winding down to the +plain as to the water's edge, helped to complete the illusion that the +sea should fitly be breaking at the base.</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier's hopes dwindled in the face of this uncompromising +denial. He had come to enlist her help; he had counted upon her +affections, and had boldly counted, because Warriner had so surely +attracted his own. M. Fournier would have been at a loss to explain +his friendship for Warriner, to account for the causes or the +qualities which evoked it, but he felt its strength, and he now knew +that Mrs. Warriner had no lot or share in it.</p> + +<p class="normal">He was therefore the more surprised when she turned back to him with +eyes which were shining and moist, and said very gently: "But of +course I will help." Her conduct was not at all inconsistent, however +much it might appear so to M. Fournier. She was acting upon the same +motive which had induced her, the moment she was aware of Ralph +Warriner's existence, to return to Ronda, the one spot where Warriner +would be sure to look for her if he needed her, and which had +subsequently persuaded her to submit to the blackmail of Major +Wilbraham. "Of course I will help. What can I do?"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier's eyes narrowed, his manner became wary and cunning. "I +hoped that you might perhaps hit upon some plan," he suggested.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I?" Miranda thought for a moment, then she said: "We must appeal to +the English Minister at Tangier."</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier sprang out of his chair. "No, that is the very last thing +we must do. For what should we say? That Mr. Ralph Warriner, who was +thought to be dead, has just been kidnapped in Morocco?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, but that Mr. Bentham has," she returned quickly.</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier shrugged his shoulders. "Why am I here?" he exclaimed, +stamping his foot. "I ask you, why am I here? <i>Saperlipopette!</i> Would +I have come to you if any so simple remedy had been possible? Suppose +we go politely to the English Minister and ask him to find Mr. Jeremy +Bentham! The Minister goes to the Sultan of Morocco, and after many +months, perhaps Mr. Bentham is found, perhaps he is not. Suppose that +he is found and brought down to Tangier,--what next, I beg you? There +will be talk about Mr. Bentham, there will be gentlemen everywhere, +behind bushes, under tables, everywhere, so that the great British +public may know the colours of the ties he wears, and at last be +happy. His name will be in the papers, and more, Mrs. Warriner, his +portrait too. His portrait; have you thought of that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"But he might escape the photographers."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Suppose he do, by a miracle. Do you think there will be no inquiry as +to what is Mr. Bentham's business in Morocco? Do you think the English +Minister will not ask the inconvenient question? Do you think that you +can hide his business, once an inquiry is set on foot, in that +country? He might pass as a tourist, you think perhaps, <i>hein?</i> And +any one man has only got to give a few dollars to some officer in the +custom-house, and he will know that Mr. Bentham is smuggling guns into +Morocco, and selling them to the Berbers of Bemin Sooar. What then? He +would be taken for trial to Gibraltar, where only two years ago he was +Captain Warriner."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda had already heard enough from Wilbraham to confirm M. +Fournier's statement about the custom-house.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," continued Fournier, "the risk is too great. And I call it risk!" +He hunched his shoulders and spread out his hand. "It is a red-hot +cert, as he would say. His identity would be established, and he had +better, after all, be a captive in Morocco than a convict in England. +There is some chance of an escape in Morocco."</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is also in Morocco some chance of a--" Miranda's lips refused +to speak the word. M. Fournier supplied it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Murder? I do not fear that. Had they intended murder, they would have +killed that night, then and there, in the Sôk of Tangier. There would +have been no letter dropped three days inland."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda eagerly welcomed the argument. "Yes, yes," she exclaimed, and +the colour came back to her lips. "He is held for ransom then, +surely?"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier shook his head. "Hardly. Had they captured him for ransom, +they would have got from him the names of his friends. They would have +used measures," said he, with some emphasis upon the word, at which +Miranda shivered; "sure measures to get the names, and Warriner would +have given mine. They would have come to me for the ransom, and I +should have given it--if it was everything I had--and Warriner would +be safe by now."</p> + +<p class="normal">Fournier was aware that Miranda looked curiously and even with a sort +of compunction towards him, though he did not understand the reason of +her look. To him it was the most natural, simple thing in the world +that he should care for Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, it is not ransom," and he threw a cautious glance this way and +that, and then, even in that secret spot, continued in a whisper: +"Warriner has enemies, enemies of his own race. I do not wonder at +it," he explained impartially. "He treats me, yes, even me, who am his +one friend, as though--well, his own phrase is the best. He wipes the +floor with me. He has promised to do it many times, and many times he +has done it too. No doubt he has enemies, and they have arranged his +capture."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Suppose they sell him for a slave, a long way off and a long way +inland. It would not be pleasant at all, and most of all unpleasant to +him, for he is particular. Of course you know that, Mrs. Warriner. He +likes his linen very clean and fine. He would not enjoy being a slave, +yet he could not appeal to his Government, even if he got the chance."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, don't, please!" cried Miranda. That intimate detail about Ralph's +habits brought home to her most convincingly his present plight. "But +what enemies?" she asked in a moment or two. "Is it a guess of yours, +or do you know of any?"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier hitched his chair nearer. His voice became yet more +confidential.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Three months ago an Englishman came to my shop."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Three months ago?" interrupted Miranda. "He leaned over your counter +and he said, 'How did you work that little affair on Rosevear, and +how's my dear friend, Ralph Warriner?'"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah, you know him!" cried Fournier, springing up in excitement.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, and he has nothing to do with Ralph's capture," replied Miranda. +"He only went that one time to Tangier." M. Fournier resumed his seat, +and she briefly explained to the Belgian the reason and the +consequence of Wilbraham's visit. Fournier's face fell as he listened. +He had hoped that the necessary clue had been discovered, and when +Miranda finished he sat silent in a glum despair. After a little his +face lightened.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Only once you say he came to Tangier, this man you speak of--only +once?" he asked eagerly, stretching out his hand.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Only the once."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He was not there earlier in the year? He was not there in May? Think +carefully. Be very sure!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Warriner reflected for a second. "I am sure he was not," she +replied. "He travelled by train from Monte Carlo to Marseilles in May. +From Marseilles he came directly by boat to England."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Good," said M. Fournier. He sat forward in his chair and rubbed the +palms of his hands together. "Now listen! There was another Englishman +who came in May. He came to my shop, though the shutter was on the +window and the shop closed."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who was he?" asked Mrs. Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I cannot guess."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Tell me what he was like."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah! there's the trouble. Neither of us saw him. Warriner heard his +voice, that is all. And a voice? There is no clue more deceptive. The +one thing Warriner is sure of is that he had never heard the voice +before."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But what was it that he heard?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I tell you. Warriner came down to Tangier that very morning from the +country. He travelled as always in the dress of a Moor, for he speaks +their tongues, no Moor better, and our little business, you +understand, needs secrecy. I closed my shop, shuttered the window, +locked the door. Warriner told me he had arranged with the sheikhs of +the Berber tribes to deliver so many Winchesters, so much ammunition, +within a certain period. The period was short; Warriner's boat, the +<i>Ten Brothers</i>, was waiting at Tarifa. I leave him to change his dress +and shave his beard, while I go down to the harbour and hire a felucca +to put him over to Tarifa. But Warriner forgot to lock the door behind +me. In a minute or two he hear a hand scrape softly, oh so softly, up +the door towards the latch. For a second he stood, with the razor in +his hand like this," and the Belgian, in the absorption of his +narrative began to act the scene, "looking at the latch, waiting for +it to rise, and listening. Then he remembered that he had not locked +the door. He crept on tip-toe towards it; just as he reached it he +heard a loud English voice shout to him violently, 'Look out!' That +phrase is a menace, eh?" he stopped to ask.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It might be. It would more naturally be a warning," said Mrs. +Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">"In either case it means an enemy. As he shouted Warriner's hand was +already on the key. Warriner turn the lock, and immediately the +Englishman batter and knock at the door, but he could not get in, and +after a little he went away. Ah! how often we have wondered who that +man was, and why he shouted out his threat and tried to force the +door. To know that you have one enemy at your heels, but you cannot +pick him out because you have not seen his face! That frightens me, +Madame Warriner. I am a coward, and it is no wonder that it frightens +me." The perspiration broke out on Fournier's forehead as he made his +frank confession. "But it frightens Warriner too, who is no coward. +Often and often have I seen him lift up a finger, so," he suited the +action to the word, "when a new voice speak within his hearing, and +listen, listen, listen, to make sure whether that was the voice which +shouted through the door or no. But a voice! You cannot be certain you +recognise it, unless you can recognise also the face of the man to +whom it belongs. A singer's voice, yes! Perhaps you might know that +again though you heard it for the first time blindfold. But a voice +that merely speaks or shouts, no!"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier picked up his hat and rose from his chair. Miranda rose +too, and they stood face to face with one another under the awning.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So I ask you this. Will you help to recover your husband?" he asked, +with a simplicity of appeal which went home to Miranda all the more, +because it did not presume to claim her help. "Either a search must be +made privately through Morocco until he is found and bought, and such +a search seems hopeless; or the unknown man who shouted through the +door must be discovered. That is the simplest way. For this I do +believe"--and he expressed his belief with a great solemnity and +conviction which sank very memorably into Miranda's mind--"I believe +that if we lay our hands upon that man we shall lay our hands also +upon the means to rescue Warriner from his servitude."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But how can I help? I do not know the man who shouted through the +door." The words were flung at Fournier in a passion of impotence. +"You say you need no money. I cannot scour Morocco. How can a woman +help?"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier hesitated. He took off his glasses. He found it easier to +speak the matter of his thoughts when he saw her face dimly, and could +not take note of its expressions.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A woman very often has friends," he hinted.</p> + +<p class="normal">He saw her face grow rosy and then pale.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, but I have lost the glove," she cried impulsively, and as she +turned towards the perplexed M. Fournier, the blood rushed back into +her cheeks. "I mean," she stammered, and broke off suddenly into a +question which was at once an accusation and a challenge.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And men, have they no friends?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Fournier did not affect to misunderstand her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here and there, perhaps a man has one friend who will deliberately +risk much, even life, for him, but in those cases he has only one such +friend. Warriner has one, but alas! that one friend is myself. +Already, it is true, I have risked my life for him at the Scillies, +and I would gladly lose it for him now, if I could only lose it +without foreknowledge. But what can I do? A little fat Belgian +bourgeois, of middle age, who speaks no language correctly but his +own, and has only a few poor words of Arabic, a man of no strength, +and, Madame, a coward,--what could I do inland in Morocco?" He made no +parade of humility as he described himself; he used the simple, +straightforward tone of one who advances cogent arguments. Miranda was +moved by an impulse to hold out her hand to him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon," she said.</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier was encouraged to continue his plea.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But to possess sufficient friends so that one may choose the adequate +instrument,--ah, that is the privilege of women!" He added timidly, +"Of women who have youth and beauty," but in a voice so low that the +words hardly reached Miranda's ears, and their significance was not +understood by her at all.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have not many friends," she returned frankly, "but I have one who +would be adequate. I cannot tell whether I can bring myself to--I mean +I cannot tell whether he could go; he has duties. It is asking much to +ask any man to set out into Morocco on such an errand. However, I must +think of it; I could at all events send for him and tell him of my +husband--"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier interposed quickly: "He knows nothing of Ralph Warriner?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He believes my husband dead."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then why should he not continue to believe your husband dead?" asked +Fournier, with a sly cunning. "It is Mr. Jeremy Bentham he goes out to +find,--a friend of yours--a relation perhaps--is it not so? We can +keep Ralph Warriner dead for a while longer."</p> + +<p class="normal">The little man's intention was becoming obvious.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why?" asked Miranda, sharply.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It would be more prudent."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't understand."</p> + +<p class="normal">Her voice was cold and dangerous.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A man has one friend, a woman many," explained M. Fournier; "but +there are compensations for the man in that his friend will serve him +for friendship's sake. But a man will not serve a woman for +friendship's sake. Not if he serve her well."</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier was prepared for an outburst of indignation; he was not +prepared for the expression which came over Miranda's face, and he +could not understand it. She looked at him fixedly and, as it seemed, +in consternation. "That is not true," she said; "it is not true. +Surely, surely it cannot be true."</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier made no answer. She turned away from him and walked along +the flagged pathway, turned at the end and came slowly back. "A man +will only serve a woman if he cares for her?"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier bowed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And men can be made to care?"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier smiled.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But it needs time?"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And it needs tricks?"</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier made a pun.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nature, Madame, has put the tricks in your hand."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda nodded her head once or twice, and made a remark which M. +Fournier was at a loss to apply. "The old question," said she, "and +the old answer;" and at once an irrational anger flamed up within her, +anger with M. Fournier for posing the question again, anger with +herself for her perplexity, anger even against Charnock, because he +did not magically appear in the garden and answer the question and +dissolve her perplexity. But M. Fournier alone was in the garden with +her, and the full force of her anger broke upon him. "I am to throw +out my net," she cried, "and catch my friend! I am to trick him, to +lie to him, and to earn with the lie the use of his life and his +brains and his time and his manhood. How dare you come to me with such +a thought? A coward's thought indeed!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The thought of a man who loves his friend," said M. Fournier, +stubbornly; and he continued without any sarcasm: "Your sentiments, +Madame Warriner, are most correct; they do you honour, but I love my +friend."</p> + +<p class="normal">To his surprise Miranda suddenly smiled at him, and then laughed. "I +was never treated with such absolute disregard in all my life," she +said. "No, don't apologise, I like you for it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you will do as I propose?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda grew serious. "I cannot. If I ask my friend to go upon this +errand, he must know before he goes who it is I ask him to bring back. +I must think what can be done. You will go back to Tangier; perhaps +you may find Ralph there when you return. I will write to you at +Tangier."</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier had plainly no opinion of her plan; but he saw that he +could not dissuade her. He took the hand which she held out to him, +and returned sorrowfully through the patio to the street.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_11" href="#div1Ref_11">IN WHICH MIRANDA ADOPTS A NEW LINE OF CONDUCT AND THE MAJOR +EXPRESSES SOME DISCONTENT</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">Miranda was left with two convictions, of which she was very certain. +Somehow, somewhither, help must be sent to Ralph; and if Charnock +carried the help, he must know why and for whom before he went.</p> + +<p class="normal">She stood in the patio until the outer door closed behind M. Fournier. +A local newspaper lying upon a wicker chair caught her eye, and +harassed and unresolved as she was, she turned eagerly for rest to its +commonplaces. She read an anecdote about an unknown politician, and a +summary of Don Carlos's prospects, with extreme care and +concentration; for she knew that her perplexities lay in wait for her +behind the screen of the news sheet, and she was very tired.</p> + +<p class="normal">She turned over the sheet, and in spite of herself, began to feel at a +third idea. She applied herself consequently to the first paragraph +which met her eye, and read it over with great speed, perhaps ten +times. But the words she read were not the printed words. They were +these:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Send me the glove, and when I come up to Ronda, it will be understood +without a word why I have come. There will be no need for me to speak +at all, and you will only have to tell me the particular thing that +wants doing."</p> + +<p class="normal">And the idea became distinct. She could choose her own time for +telling Charnock the particular thing which wanted doing. He would ask +no questions; he had indeed hit upon that device of the glove to spare +her; she could send the glove, and she could tell him after he had +come in answer, but at her own discretion, why she had sent it. +Therefore she had time--she had time.</p> + +<p class="normal">She turned to her paragraph again, read it with comprehension, and +from the paragraph her trouble sprang at her and caught her by the +heart. For what she read was the account of the opening of the branch +line to Algeciras. Charnock's work was done, then; he would be leaving +Algeciras. Even at that moment her first feeling was one of +approaching loneliness, so closely had the man crept into her +thoughts. She took a step towards her parlour, stopped, stood for a +moment irresolute, ran up the winding iron staircase to the landing +half-way up the patio, and fetched a new long white kid glove from her +dressing-room. She moulded it upon her hand, soiled it by a ten +minutes' wearing, ripped it across the palm, and sealed it up in an +envelope.</p> + +<p class="normal">Jane Holt came into the patio while Miranda was still writing the +address.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's that?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A sham, Jane, a sham," said Miranda, in a queer, unsteady voice; "a +trick, the first of them."</p> + +<p class="normal">Jane Holt shook her head. "You are very strange, Miranda," but +Miranda picked up the envelope, and putting on her hat hurried to the +post-office. As she crossed the bridge over the Tajo a man barred her +way. She tried to pass him; he moved again in front of her, and she +saw that the man was Wilbraham.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wish to speak to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"In ten minutes," said she, "in the Alameda. I have a letter to post."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The letter can wait," said he.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If it did, it would never be posted," said she, and she hurried past +him.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major followed her with inquisitive eyes; he felt a certain +admiration for her buoyant walk, her tall slight figure, which a white +muslin dress with a touch of colour at the waist so well set off, and +for the pose of her head under the wide straw hat. But business +instincts prevailed over his admiration. He lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What is the large sealed letter which must be posted at once, or it +will never be posted at all?" he asked himself. "Why must it be posted +at once?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He strolled to the Alameda unable to find an answer. In the Alameda, +at the bench before the railings, Miranda was waiting for him. She +rose at once to meet him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why have you come?" she asked. "It is not quarter-day. We made our +bargain. I have kept my part of it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said he. "But it was not a good bargain for me. I underrated my +necessities. I overrated my taste for a quiet life."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And the Horace?" she asked scornfully. "One of the few things worth +doing, was it not?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham flushed angrily.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So it is," he said. "But I find it difficult to settle down. I need, +in fact,--do we not all need them?--intervals of relaxation." He spoke +uneasily; he looked even more worn and tired than when he first came +to Ronda. Miranda understood that here indeed was the real tragedy of +the man's life.</p> + +<p class="normal">"All these years, fifteen years," she said, "you have dreamed of doing +sooner or later this one thing. You have played with the dream. You +have kept your self-respect by means of it. It has set you apart from +your companions. And now, when the opportunity comes, you find that +you were only after all on the level of your companions, lower, +perhaps a trifle lower, by this trifle of delusion. For you cannot do +the work."</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham did not resent the speech, which was uttered without +reproach or accusation, but in the tone of one who notes a fact which +should have been foreseen.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A topping fellow Horace, of course," Wilbraham began.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And I trusted you to do it," she said suddenly, and looked at him for +a moment full in the face, not angrily, but with a queer sort of +interest in the mistake she had made. Then she turned from him and +walked away.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major followed quickly, but before he could come up with her she +turned round on him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Follow me for one other step," she said, "and I call that guardia +twenty yards away."</p> + +<p class="normal">She meant to do it, too; this was unmistakable. She resumed her walk, +and the Major thought it prudent to remain where he was. He remained +in fact for some time on that spot, whistling softly to himself. +Wilbraham's menaces had sunk to a complete insignificance in Miranda's +mind, since she had been confronted with the actual positive disaster +which had befallen Ralph Warriner. Wilbraham, however, was not in a +position to trace Miranda's sudden audacity to its true source. He +fell therefore, and not unnaturally, into the error of imagining that +she drew her courage to refuse his demands from some new and external +support. His thoughts went back to the letter which must be posted at +once. Had that letter anything to do with that support? Had it +anything to do with her refusal?</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham asked himself these questions with considerable uneasiness, +for after all the seven hundred per annum was not so absolutely +assured. He came to the conclusion that it would be wise to transfer +his quarters from Tarifa to Ronda.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_12" href="#div1Ref_12">THE HERO, LIKE ALL HEROES, FINDS HIMSELF IN A FOG</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">At eight o'clock the next morning Charnock was crushing the remainder +of his clothes into a portmanteau. A couple of corded trunks stood +ready for the porters, while the manager of the line sat in the window +overlooking Algeciras Bay, and gave him gratuitous advice as to +totally different and very superior methods of packing.</p> + +<p class="normal">The manager suddenly rose to his feet.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here's the P. and O. coming into the bay," he said. "Man, but you +have very little time. I'm thinking you'll miss it."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock raised a flushed face from his portmanteau, and so wasted a +few seconds. He made no effort to catch them up.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I'm thinking, too, you would not be very sorry to miss it," continued +the manager, sagely. "Though what charms you can discover in +Algeciras, it's beyond my powers to comprehend."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock did not controvert or explain the manager's supposition. He +continued to pack, but perhaps a trifle more slowly than before.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You have got my address, Macdonald?" he said. "You won't lose it, +will you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He shut up the portmanteau and knelt upon it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You will forward everything that comes--everything without fail?" he +insisted.</p> + +<p class="normal">"In all human probability," returned Macdonald, "I will forward +nothing at all. For I am thinking you will lose the boat."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a knock on the door; Charnock's servant brought in a letter. +The letter lay upon its face, and the sealed back of the envelope had +an official look.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Open it, will you, Macdonald?" said Charnock, as he fastened the +straps. "Well, what's it about?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I cannot tell. It's written in a dialect I do not understand," said +the manager, gravely, and Charnock, turning about, saw that he dangled +and deliberated upon a long white kid glove.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock jumped up and snatched it away.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a female's," said the manager, sagely.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a woman's," returned Charnock, with indignation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are very young," observed Macdonald. "And I'll point out to you +that you have torn your letter."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was turning the glove over, and showed the palm at that +moment. He smiled, but made no answer. He folded the glove, wrapped it +in its envelope, took it out again, and smoothed its creases. Then he +folded it once more, held it for a little balanced on his hand, and +finally replaced it in the envelope and hid the envelope in his +pocket.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Man, but you are <i>very</i> young," remarked Macdonald, "and I'm thinking +that you'll lose--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's a train to Ronda pretty soon?" interrupted Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is," replied Macdonald, drily, "and I'll be particular to mind +your address, and forward everything that comes. Eh, but you have paid +your passage on the P. and O."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock, in spite of that argument, took his seat in the train for +Ronda, and travelled up through the forest of cork trees whose foliage +split the sunshine, making here a shade, there an alley of light. The +foresters were at work stripping the trunks of their bark, and +Charnock was in a mood to make parables of the world, so long as they +fitted in with and exemplified his own particular purposes and plans. +He himself was a forester, and the rough bark he was stripping was +Miranda's distress, so it is to be supposed that the bare tree-trunk +was Miranda herself; and, to be sure, what simile could be more +elegant?</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock's dominant feeling, indeed, was one of elation. The message +of his mirror was being fulfilled. He had the glove in his pocket to +assure him of that, and the feel of the glove, of its delicate kid +between his strong fingers, pleased him beyond measure. For it seemed +appropriate and expressive of her, and he hoped that the strength of +his fingers was expressive of himself. But beyond that, it was a call, +a challenge to his chivalry, which up till now, through all his years, +had never once been called upon and challenged; and therein lay the +true cause of his elation.</p> + +<p class="normal">The train swept out of the cork forest, and the great grass slopes +stretched upwards at the side of the track, dotted with white +villages, seamed with rocks. Charnock fell to marvelling at the apt +moment of the summons. Just when his work was done, when his mind and +his body were free, the glove had come to him. If it had come by a +later post on that same day, he would have been on his way to England. +But it had not; it had come confederate with the hour of its coming.</p> + +<p class="normal">The train passed into the gorge of tunnels, climbing towards Ronda. He +was not forgetful that he was summoned to help Miranda out of a danger +perhaps, certainly out of a great misfortune. But he had never had a +doubt that the misfortune from some quarter, and at some time, would +fall. She had allowed him on the balcony in St. James's Park to +understand that she herself expected it. He knew, too, that it must be +some quite unusual misfortune. For had she not herself said, with a +complete comprehension of what she said, "If I have troubles I must +fight them through myself"? He had been prepared then for the +troubles, and he was rejoiced that after all they were of a kind +wherein his service could be of use.</p> + +<p class="normal">At the head of the gorge he caught his first view of Ronda, balanced +aloft upon its dark pinnacle of rock. It was mid-day, and the sun +tinged with gold the white Spanish houses and the old brown mansions +of the Moors; and over all was a blue arch of sky, brilliant and +cloudless. At that distance and in that clear light, Ronda seemed one +piece of ivory, exquisitely carved and tinted, and then exquisitely +mounted on a black pedestal. Charnock was not troubled with any of +Lady Donnisthorpe's perplexities as to why Miranda persisted in making +that town her home. To him it seemed the only place where she could +live, since it alone could fitly enshrine her.</p> + +<p class="normal">The train wound up the incline at the back of the town and steamed +into the station. Charnock drove thence to the hotel in the square +near the bull-ring, lunched, and asked his way to Mrs. Warriner's +house. He stood for a while looking at the blank yellow wall which +gave on to the street, and the heavy door of walnut wood.</p> + +<p class="normal">For the first time he began to ponder what was the nature of the peril +in which Miranda stood. His speculations were of no particular value, +but the fact that he speculated at this spot, opposite the house, +opposite the door, was. For, quite unconsciously, his eyes took an +impression of the geometrical arrangement of the copper nails with +which it was encrusted, or rather sought to take such an impression. +For the geometrical figures were so intricate in their involutions +that the eyes were continually baffled and continually provoked. +Charnock was thus absently searching for the key to their +inter-twistings when he walked across the road and knocked. He was +conducted through the patio. He was shown into the small dark-panelled +parlour which overlooked the valley. The door was closed upon him; the +room was empty. A book lay open upon the table before the window. +Charnock stood in front of this table looking out of the window across +to the sierras; so that the book was just beneath his nose. He had but +to drop his eyes and he would have read the title, and known the +subject-matter, of the book, and perhaps taken note or some pencil +lines scored in the margin against a passage here and there, for the +book had been much in Miranda's hands these last few days. But he did +not, for he heard a light step cross the patio outside and pause on +the threshold of the door.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock turned expectantly away from the table. The door, however, +did not open, nor on the other hand were the footsteps heard to +retreat. A woman then was standing, quite silent and quite motionless, +on the other side of that shut door; and that woman, no doubt, was +Miranda. Charnock was puzzled; he, too, stood silent and motionless, +looking towards the door and wondering why she paused there and in +what attitude she stood. For the seconds passed, and there must have +been a lapse of quite two minutes between the moment when the +footsteps ceased and the moment when the door was flung open.</p> + +<p class="normal">For the door was flung open, noisily, violently, and with a great +bustle of petticoats an unknown woman danced into the room humming a +tune. She stopped with all the signs of amazement when she saw +Charnock. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "why didn't they tell me?" She cast +backwards over her shoulder that glance of the startled fawn which +befits a solitary maid in the presence of a devouring man. Then she +advanced timidly, lowered her eyes, and said: "So you have come to +Ronda, then?"</p> + +<p class="normal">This unknown woman had paused outside the door, yet she had swung into +the room as though in a great hurry, and had been much surprised to +see her visitor. Charnock was perplexed. Moreover, the unknown woman +wore the semblance of Miranda. She was dressed in a white frock very +elaborate with lace, he noticed; there was a shimmer of satin at her +throat and waist, and to him who had not seen her for these months +past, and who had thought of her as of one draped in black,--since +thus only he had seen her,--she gleamed against the dark panels of the +room, silvered and wonderful.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So you have come to Ronda?" said she.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course."</p> + +<p class="normal">She held out her hand with a gingerly manner of timidity, and pressed +his fingers when they touched hers, as though she could not help +herself, and then hastily drew her hand away, as if she was ashamed +and alarmed at her forwardness. Charnock could not but remember a +frank, honest hand-clasp, with which she had bidden him goodbye in +London.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is this your first visit to Ronda?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Sure?" She looked at him with her eyebrows raised and an arch glance +of provocation. "Sure you have not come up once or twice just to see +in what corner of the world I lived?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No; I have been busy."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I had no right to expect you would." She pushed out a foot in a +polished shoe beyond the hem of her dress, contemplated it with great +interest, and suddenly withdrew it with much circumstance of modesty. +Then with an involuntary gesture of repugnance which Charnock did not +understand, she went over to the window and stood looking out from it. +From that position too she spoke.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You promised that night, if you have not forgotten, at Lady +Donnisthorpe's, on the balcony, to tell me about yourself, about those +years you spent in Westminster." And Charnock broke in upon her speech +in a voice of relief.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I understand," said he.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You," he replied simply.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, I hope not," she returned; "for when a woman becomes intelligible +to a man, he loses all--liking for her," and she spoke the word +"liking" with extreme shyness as though there were a bolder word with +which he might replace it if he chose. "Is not that the creed?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"A false creed," said he, and her eyes fell upon the open book. She +uttered a startled exclamation, threw a quick glance at Charnock, +closed the book and covered it with a newspaper.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let us go into the garden," said she; "and you shall talk to me of +those years in which I am most interested."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That I can understand," said he, and she glanced at him sharply, +suspiciously, but there was no sarcasm in his accent. He had hit upon +an explanation of the change in her. She stood in peril, she needed +help, and very likely help of a kind which implied resource, which +involved danger. She knew nothing of him, nothing of his capacity. It +was no more than natural that he should require to know and that she +should sound his years for the knowledge, before she laid him under +the obligation of doing her a service.</p> + +<p class="normal">He sat down on the chair in which M. Fournier had sat only yesterday.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It will sound very unfamiliar to you," he said with a laugh. "My +father was vicar of a moorland parish on the hills above Brighouse in +Yorkshire. There I lived until I was twelve, until my father died. He +had nothing but the living, which was poor--the village schoolmaster, +what with capitation grants, was a good deal better off--so that when +he died, he died penniless. I was adopted by a maiden aunt who took me +to her home, a little villa in the south suburbs of London of which +the shutters had never been taken down from the front windows since +she had come to live there three years before."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why?" asked Miranda, in surprise.</p> + +<p class="normal">"She was eccentric," explained Charnock, with a smile, and he resumed. +"Nor had the front door ever been opened. My aunt was afraid that +visitors might call, and, as she truly said, the house was not yet in +order. The furniture, partly unpacked, with wisps of straw about the +legs of the chairs, was piled up in the uncarpeted rooms. For there +was only a carpet down in one room, the room in which we lived, and +since the room was in the front and the shutters were up, we lived in +a perpetual twilight."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But did the servants do nothing?" exclaimed Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There were no servants," returned Charnock. "My aunt said that they +hampered her independence. Consequently of course we made our meals of +tinned meat and bottled stout, which we ate standing up by the kitchen +table in the garden if it was fine. But wet or fine the kitchen table +always stood in the garden."</p> + +<p class="normal">Here Miranda began to laugh and Charnock joined with her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was a quaint sort of life," said he, "but rather ghostly to a boy +of twelve."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But you went to school?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, my schooldays were over. I just lived in the twilight of that +house, and through the chinks of the shutters watched people passing +in the street, and lay awake at night listening to the creak of the +bare boards. The house was in a terrace, and since we went to bed as +soon as it grew dark to save the gas, I could hear through the wall +the sounds of people laughing and talking, sometimes too the voices of +boys of my own age playing while I lay in bed. I used to like the +noise at times; it was companionable and told me fairy stories of +blazing firesides. At times, however, I hated it beyond words, and +hated the boys who laughed and shouted while I lay in the dark amongst +the ghostly piles of furniture."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda was now quite serious, and Charnock, as he watched her, +recognised in the woman who was listening, the woman he had talked +with on the balcony over St. James's Park, and not the woman he had +talked with five minutes since.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Only to think of it," she exclaimed. "I was living then amongst the +Suffolk meadows, and the great whispering elms of the Park, and I +never knew." She spoke almost in a tone of self-reproach as she +clasped her hands together on her knees. "I never knew!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, but we had our dissipations," returned Charnock. "We dug potatoes +in the garden, and sometimes we paid a visit to Marshall and +Snelgrove."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Marshall and Snelgrove!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, those were gala days. My aunt would buy the best ready-made +bodice in the shop, which she carried away with her. From Marshall and +Snelgrove's we used to go to Verrey's restaurant, where we dined +amongst mirrors and much gilding, and about nine o'clock we would +travel back to our suburb, creep into the dark house by the back door, +and go to bed without a light. Imagine that if you can, Mrs. Warriner. +The clatter, the noise, the flowers, the lights, of the restaurant, +men and women in evening dress, and just about the time when they were +driving up to their theatres, these people, in whose company we had +dined, we were creeping into the dark, close-shuttered villa of the +bare boards, and groping our way through the passage without a light. +I used to imagine that every room had a man hiding behind the door, +and all night long I heard men in my room breathing stealthily. It was +after one such night that I ran away."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You ran away?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, and hid myself in London. I picked up a living one way and +another. It doesn't cost much to live when you are put to it. I sold +newspapers. I ran errands--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You didn't carry a sandwich-board?" exclaimed Miranda, eagerly. "Say +you didn't do that!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I didn't," replied Charnock, with some surprise at her eagerness. +"They wouldn't have given a nipper like me a sandwich-board," and +Miranda drew an unaccountable breath of relief. "Finally I became an +office boy, and I was allowed by my employer to sleep in an empty +house in one of the small streets at the back of Westminster Abbey. +There weren't any carpets either in that house, but I was independent, +you see, and I saved my lodging. I wasn't unhappy during those three +years. I understood that very well, when I heard the big clock strike +twelve again on Lady Donnisthorpe's balcony. It was the first time I +had heard it since I lived in the empty house, and heard it every +night, and the sound of it was very pleasant and friendly."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then you left London," said Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"After three years. I was a clerk then; I was seventeen, and I had +ambitions which clerking didn't satisfy. I always had a hankering +after machinery, and I used to teach myself drawing. The lessons, +however, did not turn out very successful, when I put them to the +test."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What did you do?" asked Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I went up North to Leeds. There's a firm of railway contractors and +manufacturers of locomotives. Sir John Martin is the head partner, and +I had seen him once or twice at my father's house, for he took and +takes a great interest in the Yorkshire clergy."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see. You went to him and told him who you were," said Miranda, +who inclined towards Charnock more and more from the interest which +she took in a youth so entirely strange, and apart from her own +up-bringing, just as he on his part had been from the first attracted +to her by the secure traditional life of which she was the flower, of +which he traced associations in her simplicity, and up to this day, at +all events, her lack of affectations.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," replied Charnock, "it would have been wiser if I had done that; +but I didn't. I changed my name, and applied for a vacancy as +draughtsman. I obtained it, and held the post for three weeks. Why +they suffered me for three weeks is still a mystery, for of course I +couldn't draw at all. At the end of three weeks I was discharged. I +asked to be taken on as anything at thirteen shillings a week. I saw +Sir John Martin himself. He said I couldn't live on thirteen +shillings; I said I could, and he asked me how." Charnock began to +laugh at his own story. "I told him how," he said. "I lived +practically for nothing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How?" said Miranda. "Quick, tell me!" Charnock laughed again. "I had +been three weeks at the works, you see, where hands were continually +changing. I lived in a sort of mechanics' boarding-house, and I lived +practically for nothing, on condition that I kept the house full, +which I was able to do, for I got on very well with the men at the +works. Sir John laughed when I told him, and took me into the office. +So there I was a clerk again, which I didn't want to be; however, I +was not a clerk for long. One Sunday Sir John Martin came down to the +boarding-house and asked for me. It was dinner time, and he was shown +straight into the dining-room, where I was sitting, if you please, at +the head of the table, in my shirtsleeves, carving for all I was +worth. He leaned against the door and shook with laughter. 'You are +certain to get on,' he said; 'but I would like a few minutes with you +alone.' I put on my coat, and went out with him into the street. 'Is +your name Charnock?' he asked, and I answered that it was. 'I thought +I knew your face,' said he, 'and that's why I took you into my office, +though I couldn't put a name to you. So if you are proud enough to +think that I took you on your own merits, you are wrong. You might as +well have told me your real name, and saved yourself some time. Look +at that!' and he gave me a newspaper, and pointed out an +advertisement. A firm of solicitors in London was advertising for me, +and the firm, I happened to know, looked after my aunt's affairs. I +went to London that night. My aunt had died sixteen months before, and +had left me six hundred a year. The rest was easy. I took Sir John's +advice. 'Railways,' he said, 'railways; they are the white man's +tentacles;' and Sir John gave me my first employment as an engineer."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda was silent for a long while after Charnock had ended his +story. Charnock himself had nothing further to say. It was for her to +speak, not for him to question. She had sent the glove. She knew why +he had come. Miranda, however, took a turn along the flagged pathway, +and leaned over the breast-high wall and pointed out a vulture above +the valley, and talked in inattentive, undecided tones upon any +impersonal topic. It was natural, Charnock thought, that she should +wish to con over what he had told her. So he rose from his chair.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall I come back to-morrow?" he asked, and she rallied herself to +answer him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will you?" she exclaimed. "I should be so glad," and checking the +ardour of her words, she explained, "I mean of course if you have +nothing better to do," and she examined a flower with intense +absorption, and then looked at him pathetically over her shoulder, as +he moved away. So again he lost sight of the Miranda of the balcony, +and carried away his first impression, that he had met that afternoon +with a stranger.</p> + +<p class="normal">His fervour of the morning changed to a chilling perplexity. He +wondered at the change in her. Something else, too, seized upon his +thoughts, and exercised his fancies. Why had she stood so long outside +the door before she hurried in with her simulated surprise? How had +she looked as she paused there, silent and motionless? That question +in particular haunted him, for he thought that if only he could have +seen her through the closed door he would have found a clue which +would lead him to comprehend and to justify her.</p> + +<p class="normal">Absorbed by these thoughts he sat through dinner unobservant of his +few neighbours at the long table. He was therefore surprised when, as +he stood in the stone hall, lighting his cigar, a friendly hand was +clapped down upon his shoulder, and an affable voice remarked:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Aha, dear friend! Finished the little job at Algeciras, I saw. What +are you doing at Ronda?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What are you?" asked Charnock, as he faced the irrepressible Major +Wilbraham.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Trying to make seven hundred per annum into a thousand. You see I +have no secrets. Now confidence for confidence, eh, dear friend?" and +his eyes drew cunningly together behind the glowing end of his cigar.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am afraid that I must leave you to guess."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Guessing's not very sociable work."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps that's why I am given to it," said Charnock, and he walked +between the stone columns and up the broad staircase.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major looked after him without the slightest resentment.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Slipped up that time, Ambrose, my lad," he said to himself, and +sauntered cheerfully out of the hotel.</p> + +<p class="normal">Five minutes later Charnock passed through the square at a quick walk. +Wilbraham was meditating a translation of the Carmen Sæculare, but +business habits prevailed with him. He thrust the worn little Horace +into his breast-pocket and followed Charnock at a safe distance. By +means of a skill acquired by much practice, he walked very swiftly and +yet retained the indifferent air of a loiterer. There was another +picture of the tracker and the tracked to be seen that evening, but in +Ronda instead of Tangier, and Charnock was unable to compare it with +its companion picture, since, in this case, he was the tracked. The +two men passed down the hill to the bridge. Charnock stopped for a +little and stood looking over the parapet to the water two hundred and +fifty feet below, which was just visible through the gathering +darkness like a ridge of snow on black soil. Wilbraham halted at the +end of the bridge. It seemed that Charnock was merely taking a stroll. +He had himself, however, nothing better to do at the moment. He waited +and repeated a stanza of his translation to the rhythm of the torrent, +and was not displeased. Charnock moved on across the bridge, across +the Plaza on the farther side of the bridge, up a street until he came +to an old Moorish house that showed a blank yellow wall to the street +and a heavy walnut door encrusted with copper nails.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then he stopped again and looked steadily at the house and for a long +while. Wilbraham began pensively to whistle a slow tune under his +breath. Charnock walked on, stopped again, looked back to the house, +as though he searched for a glimpse of the lights. But there was no +chink or cranny in that blank wall. The house faced the street, blind, +dark, and repellent.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock suddenly retraced his steps. Wilbraham had just time to mount +the doorsteps of a house as though he was about to knock, before +Charnock passed him. Charnock had not noticed him. Wilbraham descended +the steps and followed Charnock back into the Plaza.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was looking for a road which he had seen that afternoon from +Miranda's garden, a road which wound in zigzags down the cliff. The +road descended from the Plaza, Charnock discovered it, walked down it; +behind him at a little distance walked Wilbraham. It was now falling +dark, but the night was still, so that Wilbraham was compelled to drop +yet farther and farther behind, lest the sound of his footsteps upon +the hard, dry ground should betray his pursuit. He fell so far behind, +in fact, that he ceased to hear Charnock's footsteps at all. He +accordingly hurried; he did more than hurry, he ran; he turned an +angle of the road and immediately a man seated upon the bank by the +road-side said:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"<i>Buenas noches</i>."</p> + +<p class="normal">The man was Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham had the presence of mind not to stop.</p> + +<p class="normal">"<i>Felices suenos</i>," he returned in a gruff voice and continued to run. +He ran on until another angle of the road hid him. Then he climbed on +to the top of the bank, which was high, and with great caution doubled +back along the ridge until Charnock was just beneath him.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was gazing upwards; Wilbraham followed his example, and saw +that right above his head, on the rim of the precipice, an open window +glowed upon the night, a square of warm yellow light empanelled in the +purple gloom.</p> + +<p class="normal">The ceiling of the room was visible, and just below the ceiling a +gleam as of polished panels. At that height above them the window +seemed very small; its brightness exaggerated the darkness which +surrounded it; and both men looked into it as into a tiny theatre of +marionettes and expected the performance of a miniature play.</p> + +<p class="normal">All that they saw, however, was a shadow-pantomime thrown upon the +ceiling, and that merely of a tantalising kind--the shadow of a +woman's head and hair, growing and diminishing as the unseen woman +moved away or to the candles. A second shadow, and this too the shadow +of a woman, joined the first. But no woman showed herself at the +window, and Charnock, tiring of the entertainment, returned to his +hotel.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham remained to count the houses between that lighted window and +the chasm of the Tajo. He counted six. Then he returned, but not +immediately to the hotel. On reaching the Plaza he walked, indeed, +precisely in the opposite direction, away from the Tajo, and he +counted the houses which he passed and stopped before the seventh.</p> + +<p class="normal">The seventh was noticeable for its great doors of walnut-wood and the +geometrical figures which were traced upon it with copper nails.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major cocked his hat on one side, and stepped out for the hotel +most jauntily. "These little accidents," said he, "a brigantine +sighted off Ushant; a man going out for a walk! If only one has +patience! Patience, there's the secret. A little more, and how much--a +great poet!" And he entered the hotel.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock rose from a bench in the hall, "Pleasant night for a stroll," +said he.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Business with me, dear old boy," replied the Major. "I fancy that +after all I have made that seven hundred per annum into a thou. I am +not sure, but I think so. Good-night, sleep well, be good!" With a +flourish of his hand over the balustrade of the stairs, the Major +disappeared.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock sat down again on the bench and reflected.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wilbraham's at Ronda. I find him at Ronda when I am sent for to +Ronda. Wilbraham said good-night to me on the road. Wilbraham was +following me; Wilbraham's clothes were dusty: it was Wilbraham who +kicked his toes into the grass on the top of the bank while I sat at +the bottom. Have I to meet Wilbraham? What has his seven hundred per +annum to do with Mrs. Warriner? Well, I shall learn to-morrow," he +concluded, and so went to bed.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_13" href="#div1Ref_13">WHEREIN THE HERO'S PERPLEXITIES INCREASE</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">Charnock, however, learned nothing the next morning, except perhaps a +lesson in patience. For the greater part of his visit was occupied in +extracting a thorn from one of Mrs. Warriner's fingers. They chanced +to be alone in the garden when the accident occurred, and Miranda +naturally came to him for assistance. She said no word about the +glove, nor did he; it was part of the compact that he should be +silent. He came the next day, and it seemed that there was something +amiss with Miranda's hairpins, for the coils of her hair were +continually threatening to tumble about her shoulders; at least, so +she said, complaining of the weight of her hair. But again there was +no mention of the glove. That afternoon Charnock was introduced to +Miss Holt, whom Miranda kept continually at her side, until Charnock +took his leave, when she accompanied him across the patio.</p> + +<p class="normal">"We never seem to get an opportunity of talking to each other," said +she, with the utmost innocence. "Will you ride with me to-morrow? Say +at two. We might ride as far as Ronda La Viega."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock, who within the last half-hour had begun to consider +whether it would not be wise for him to return to Algeciras, eagerly +accepted the invitation. To-morrow everything would be explained. They +would ride out together, alone, and she would tell him of the dragon +he was required to slay, and no doubt explain why, for these last two +days, she had been marketing her charms. That certainly needed +explanation--for even at this moment in the patio, she was engaged in +kissing a kitten with too elaborate a preparation of her lips to avoid +a suspicion that the pantomime was intended for a spectator.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was punctual to the minute of his appointment, and in +Miranda's company rode through the town. As they passed the hotel, +Major Wilbraham came out of the doorway. He took off his hat. Charnock +nodded in reply and turned towards Miranda, remembering his suspicions +as to whether Wilbraham was concerned in the mysterious peril which he +was to combat. To his surprise Miranda instantly smiled at the Major +with extreme friendliness, and markedly returned his bow.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Clever, clever!" muttered the Major, as he bit his moustache and +commended her manœuvre. "A little overdone, perhaps; the bow a +trifle too marked; still, it's clever! Ambrose, you will have that +thousand."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was perplexed. "How long have you known Wilbraham?" he asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda stammered, bent her head, and smiled as it were in spite of +herself.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A long while," she answered, and then she sighed. "A long while," she +repeated softly. Charnock was exasperated to a pitch beyond his +control.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If you want to make me believe that you are in love with him," he +returned sharply, almost roughly, "you will fail, Mrs. Warriner. I +should find it hard to believe that he is even one of your friends."</p> + +<p class="normal">The words were hardly out of his lips before he regretted them. They +insulted her. She was hardly the woman to sit still under an insult; +but her manner again surprised him. He was almost prepared to be sent +curtly to the right about, whereas she made no answer whatever. She +coloured hotly, and rode forward ahead of him until they were well out +of the town and descending the hill into the bottom of the valley. +Then she fell back again by his side, and said: "Why is your face +always so--illegible?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it?" he asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's a lid--a shut lid," she said. "One never knows what you think, +how you are disposed." She spoke with some irritation perhaps, but +sincerely, and without any effort at provocation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I was not aware," returned Charnock. "You must set it down to habit, +Mrs. Warriner. I was brought up in a hard school, and learned, no +doubt, intuitively the wisdom of reticence."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it always wisdom?" she asked doubtfully, and it seemed a strange +question to come from her whose business it was to speak, just as it +was his to listen. But very likely her doubt was in this instance +preferable to his wisdom. Some word of surprise at the change in her, +perhaps one simple gesture of impatience, would have broken down the +barrier between them. But he had taken the buffets of her provocations +and her advances with, as she truly said, an illegible face.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Is it always wisdom?" she asked, and she added: "You were not so +reticent when I first met you;" and just that inconsistency between +his bearing at Lady Donnisthorpe's ball, and his inexpressive +composure of these few last days, might have revealed to her at this +moment what he thought, and how he was disposed, had she brought a +cooler mind to consider it. For the man was not chary of expression +when the world went well with him; it was only in the presence of +disappointments, rebuffs, and aversions that his face became a lid.</p> + +<p class="normal">They left their horses at a farm-house, and climbed up the rough, +steep slope to the windy ridge on which the old Roman town was built. +They sat for a while upon the stones of the old wall, looking across +the great level plain of olive trees, and poplars, and white villages +gleaming in the sunlight. Here was a fitting moment for the story to +be told, Charnock thought, and expected its telling. But he only saw +that Miranda scrutinised his looks, and he only heard her gabbling of +this triviality and that with a feverish vivacity. And no doubt his +face betrayed less than ever what he thought and felt.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall I see you to-morrow?" she asked as they parted that afternoon +outside her door.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will come round in the morning after lunch," he replied, and she +uttered a quick little sigh of pleasure, which made Charnock turn his +horse with a sharp, angry tug at the rein, and ride quickly away +across the bridge.</p> + +<p class="normal">That first impulse to leave Ronda had gone from him. He was engaged, +through his own wish and action, to serve Mrs. Warriner, and he was +resolved to keep the engagement to the letter. But he was beginning to +realise that he should be serving a woman whom in the bottom of his +heart he despised. The message of his mirror became a fable; he +recalled what Miranda herself had suggested, that the look of distress +which he had seen upon the face was due to his chance visit to +<i>Macbeth</i>; and certain words which a woman had spoken at Lady +Donnisthorpe's dance as she sat by the window recurred to him. +"There's a coquette" was one phrase which on this particular evening +recurred and recurred to his thoughts.</p> + +<p class="normal">However, he returned to the house upon the rim of the precipice the +next morning, and being led by a servant through the patio into the +garden, came upon Miranda unawares. She was busy amongst her flowers, +cutting the choicest and arranging them in a basket, and she did not +notice Charnock's appearance. Charnock was well content with her +inattention. For in the quiet grace of her movements, as she walked +amongst her flowers, he caught a glimpse of the Miranda whom he knew, +the Miranda of the balcony. The October sunlight was golden about +them, a light wind tempered its heat, and on the wind were borne +upwards to his ears the distant cries of peasants in the plain below. +He had a view now and then of her face, as she rose and stooped, and +he remarked a gentleness and a simplicity in its expression which had +been foreign to it since he had come to Ronda.</p> + +<p class="normal">But the expression changed when she saw Charnock standing in the +garden.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who do you think I am cutting these flowers for?" she asked with an +intolerable playfulness. "You will never guess."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock stepped over to her side.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mrs. Warriner," said he, "will you give me one?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She looked at him with a whimsical hesitation.</p> + +<p class="normal">"They are intended for Gibraltar," she said, as she caressed the bunch +which she held--but she spoke with a great repugnance, and the +playfulness had gone from her voice before she had ended the sentence.</p> + +<p class="normal">"For Gibraltar?" he exclaimed, remembering the gentle look upon her +face as she had culled them. "For whom in Gibraltar? For whom?" He +confronted her squarely; his voice commanded her to answer.</p> + +<p class="normal">She drew back from him; the colour went from her cheeks; her fingers +were interclasped convulsively; it seemed as though the words she +tried to speak were choking her. But her emotion lasted for no more +than a moment, though for that moment Charnock could not doubt that it +was real. He took a step forwards, and she was again mistress of +herself.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, I will give you one," she said hurriedly. "I will even fix it in +your button-hole. Will you be grateful if I do? Will you be very +grateful?" Charnock neither answered nor moved. He stood in front of +her with a face singularly stolid. But Miranda's hands touched his +breast, and at the shock of her fingers he drew in his breath, and his +whole body vibrated.</p> + +<p class="normal">And how it came about neither of them knew, but in an instant the +flowers were on the ground between them, and her hands gripped his +shoulders as they stood face to face and tightened upon them in a +passionate appeal. He read the same passionate appeal in her eyes, +which now frankly looked up to his.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You don't know," she cried incoherently, "you don't know."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I wish to know," he exclaimed, "tell me;" and his arms went about +her waist. She uttered a cry and violently tore and plucked his arms +from her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," she cried, "no, not now," and she heard the latch of the door +click. Charnock heard it too.</p> + +<p class="normal">"When?" said he, as he stood away, and the door opened and Major +Wilbraham with his hat upon his heart bowed, with great elegance, upon +the threshold. Miranda started. She looked from Charnock to Wilbraham, +from Wilbraham to Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So he is one of your friends," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Have you the right to choose my friends?" she asked, and she greeted +Wilbraham warmly.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major seemed very much at his ease. It was the first occasion on +which he had had the effrontery to push his way into the house, but +from his manner one would have judged him a family friend. He waved a +hand to Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So you are there, dear old darling boy!" he cried. His endearments +increased with every meeting. "I saw you come in and thought I might +as well call at the same time, eh, Mrs. Warriner? So pleasant, I meet +Charnock everywhere. Destiny will have us friends. That dear Destiny!" +And as Charnock with an ill-concealed air of distaste turned from them +towards the valley, Wilbraham whispered to Miranda, "You need have no +fear. I shall not say a word--unless you force me to."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda drew back. She stood for a moment with her hands clenched, and +her eyelids closed, her face utterly weary and ashamed. Then with a +gesture of revolt she turned towards Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">Instantly the Major stepped in front of her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"May I beg one?" said he, pointing to the basket of flowers. It was +all very well for him to threaten Miranda that he would tell Charnock +of her husband; but it would not suit his purpose at all for her +actually to tell him on an impulse of revolt against the deception and +the hold he himself had upon her. So he fixed his eyes steadily upon +her face.</p> + +<p class="normal">"May I beg one?" and he bent towards the stool on which the basket was +set.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not of those!" she cried, "not of those!" and she snatched up the +basket and held it close.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But you shall have one," she continued with a forced laugh, as over +Wilbraham's shoulder she saw Charnock watching them, and she snapped +off some flowers from their stems with her fingers until she held a +bunch. "There! Make your choice, Major. A flower sets off a man."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just as a wife sets off a husband, eh, Mrs. Warriner?" returned +the Major, with a sly gallantry, as he fixed the flower in his +button-hole. "Eh, Charnock, did you hear?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He joined Charnock as he spoke, and Miss Holt coming from the house, +the talk became general. But Charnock noticed that at one moment +Miranda moved carelessly away from the group, and leaning carelessly +over the wall, carelessly dropped down the face of the cliff the whole +bunch of flowers from which Wilbraham had chosen one. As she lifted +her eyes, however, she saw Charnock watching her, and at once and for +the rest of the time during which her guests remained, she made her +court to Wilbraham with a feverish assiduity. She laughed immoderately +at his jokes, she was extremely confused by his compliments, she +displayed the completest deference to his opinions; so that even the +unobservant Miss Holt was surprised.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was the first to break up the gathering.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I must be going," he said curtly to Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It would almost seem that you were displeased with us," she answered +defiantly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon," said he, coldly. "I do not claim the privilege to +be displeased."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Jolly afternoon," murmured the Major, in a cheery desire to make the +peace, "good company, dear old friends"--and he saw that Miranda was +unmistakably bowing good-bye to himself. He took the hint at once. The +Major was in a very good humour that afternoon, and as the party +walked back to the house, he fell behind to Miranda, who had already +fallen behind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Clever, clever," he remarked encouragingly, "to play me off against +the real man. A little overdone perhaps, but clever. I trust I did my +part. We'll make it a thousand per annum."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda quickened her pace and took her leave of her visitors at the +door of the garden. Wilbraham was in no particular hurry to settle his +business; he was quite satisfied for that afternoon, and he entered +genially into conversation with Miss Holt upon the subject of her +grievances.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thus Miss Holt and Wilbraham crossed the patio and entered the passage +to the outer door. Charnock followed a few steps behind them; and just +after Miss Holt with her companion had entered the passage, while he +yet stood in the patio, he heard a door slam behind him.</p> + +<p class="normal">He turned, and walked round the tiny group of tamarisks in the centre +of the patio. It was not the door into the garden which had slammed, +because that now stood wide open, whereas he remembered he had closed +it behind him; and the only other door in that side of the house was +the door of Miranda's parlour. He had left Miranda in the garden; it +was plainly she who had slammed the door, and had slammed it upon +herself.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was alone in the empty patio. It was very quiet; the sunshine +was a steady golden glow upon the tiled floor, upon the tiled walls; +above in the square of blue there was no scarf of cloud. He stood in +the quiet empty patio, and the touch of her fingers tingled again upon +his breast. Again he saw her drop the flowers she had culled for +Wilbraham down the cliff. Amongst his doubts and perplexities those +two recollections shone. They were accurate, indisputable. Her +feverish vivacity, her coquetries, her friendliness to Wilbraham, her +silence towards himself, the basket of flowers for Gibraltar--these +things were puzzles. But twice that afternoon she had been true to +herself, and each time she had betrayed the reality of her trouble and +the reality of her need.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was very still in the patio. A bee droned amongst the tamarisks. It +seemed to Charnock that, after much sojourning in outlandish corners +of the earth, he who had foreseen his life as a struggle with the +brutality of inanimate things was, after all, here in the still +noonday, within these four walls, to undergo the crisis of his +destiny. He gently turned the handle of the door and entered the room.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_14" href="#div1Ref_14">MIRANDA PROFESSES REGRET FOR A PRACTICAL JOKE</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">He closed the door behind him. Miranda had neither seen nor heard him +enter. She sat opposite to the door, on the other side of the round +oak table, her arms stretched out upon the table, her face buried in +her arms. She was not weeping, and Charnock might have believed from +the abandonment of her attitude that she lay in a swoon, but for one +movement that she made. Her outstretched hands were clasped together +and her fingers perpetually worked, twisting and intertwisting. There +was no sound whatever in the room beyond the ticking of a clock, and +Charnock leaned against the door and found the silence horrible. He +would have preferred it to have been broken if only by the sound of +her tears. All his doubts, all his accusations, were swept clean out +of his brain by the sight of her distress, and, tortured himself, he +stood witness of her torture. He advanced to the table, and leaning +over it took the woman's clasped hands into his.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Miranda!" he whispered, and again, "Miranda!" and there was just the +same tenderness in his voice, as when he had first pronounced the name +in the balcony over St. James's Park.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda did not lift her head, but her hands answered the clasp of +his. She did not in truth know at that moment who was speaking to her. +She was only sensible of the sympathy of his touch and the great +comfort of his voice.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock bent lower towards her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I love you," he said, "you--Miranda."</p> + +<p class="normal">Then she raised her face and stared at him with uncomprehending eyes.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I love you," he repeated.</p> + +<p class="normal">She looked down towards her hands which he still held and suddenly she +shivered.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I love you," he said a third time.</p> + +<p class="normal">And she understood. She wrenched her hands away, she stretched out her +arms, she thrust him away from her, in her violence she struck him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, it's not true," she cried, "it's not true!" and so fell to +pleading volubly. "Say that it's not true, now, at once. Say there's +no truth in your words. Say that pity prompted them and only pity," +and her voice rose again in a great horror. Horror glittered too in +her eyes. "Say that you spoke more than you meant to speak!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can say that," he answered. "When I came into this room I had no +thought of speaking--as I did. But I saw you--I watched your hands," +and he caught his breath, "and they plucked the truth out from me. For +what I said is true."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No!" she cried.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very true," he repeated quietly.</p> + +<p class="normal">Her protesting arms fell limply to her sides. She nodded her head, +submitted to his words, acknowledged their justice.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," she said, "yes. I knew this afternoon. You told me in the +garden, and though I would not know, still I could not but know."</p> + +<p class="normal">Then she rose from her chair and walked to the window. Charnock did +not speak. He hung upon her answer, and yet dreaded to hear it, so +that when her lips moved, he would have had them still, and when they +ceased to move, he was conscious of a great relief. After a long while +she spoke, very slowly and without turning to face him, words which he +did not understand.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Love," she said, in a wondering murmur, "is it so easily got? And by +such poor means? Surely, then it's a slight thing itself, of no +account, surely not durable," and at once her calmness forsook her; +she was caught up in a whirl of passion. She raised a quivering face, +and cried aloud in despair: "It's the friend I wanted; I want no +lover!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"But you have both," returned Charnock. With a hand upon the table he +leaned over it towards her. "You have both."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah!" exclaimed Miranda. With extraordinary swiftness she swung round +and copied his movement. She leaned her hand upon the table, and bent +forward to him. "But to win the one I have had to create the other. To +possess the friend I have had to make the lover," and she suddenly +threw herself back and stood erect. "Well, then," and she spoke with a +thrill in her voice, as though she had this instant become aware of a +new and a true conviction, "I must use neither--I will use neither--I +want neither."</p> + +<p class="normal">She faced Charnock resolute, and in her own fancy inflexible to any +appeal. Only he made no appeal; he drew his hand across his forehead +and looked at her with an expression of simple worry and bewilderment.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My ways have lain amongst men, and men, and men," he said +regretfully. "I wish I understood more about women."</p> + +<p class="normal">The simplicity of his manner and words touched her as no protestations +would have done, and broke down her self-control.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear, my dear!" she cried, with a laugh which had more of tears in +it than amusement, "I am not so sure that we understand so very much +about ourselves;" and she dropped again into the chair and covered her +face with her hands. But she heard Charnock move round the table +towards her, and she dared not risk the touch of his hand, or so much +as the brushing of his coat against her dress. She drew her hands from +her face, held out her arms straight in front of her like bars, and +shrank back in the chair behind the protection of those bars.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do not want you," she said deliberately, with a quiet harshness. +"That, at all events, I understand and know. Go! Go away! I do not +want you!" and the words, spoken this time without violence or haste, +struck Charnock like a blow.</p> + +<p class="normal">He stood dazed. He shook his head, as though it sang from the blow. +Miranda drew in a breath. "Go!" she repeated.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You do not want me?" he asked, and somehow, whether it was owing to +his tone or his look, Miranda understood from the few words of his +question how much he had built upon the belief that she needed him; +and consequently the reply she made now cost her more than all the +rest to make. "I do not," she managed to say firmly, and dared not +hazard another syllable.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock felt in his breast-pocket, took out an envelope, and from the +envelope a glove. "Yet this was sent to me." He laid the glove upon +the table. "It was sent by you." Miranda took it up. "It contradicts +your words."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda turned the glove over, and stretched it out upon her knees. +"Does it?" she asked, with a slow smile, "does it contradict my +words?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You sent it to me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No doubt."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You summoned me by sending it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Surely."</p> + +<p class="normal">"For some purpose, then?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah, but for what purpose?" said she, leaning forwards in her chair. +The cold smile was still upon her face, and seemed to Charnock +unfriendly as even her violence had not been. It had some cruelty too, +and perhaps, too, some cunning.</p> + +<p class="normal">"For what purpose? You should know. It is for you to say," he answered +in a dull, tired voice. He had built more upon this unneeded service +than he himself had been aware.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will tell you," continued Miranda. "You have talked to my companion +Miss Holt?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"She has no very strong faith in men. Perhaps you noticed as much."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I did not agree with her. I had the glove. It would be--amusing to +know whether she was right or whether I was. I sent it to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just to prove whether I should keep my word or not?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just for your amusement, in a word?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Amusement was the word I chose."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see, I see." His voice was lifeless, his face dull and stony. +Miranda moved uneasily as she watched him; but he did not notice her +movement or regard her with any suspicion. His thoughts and feelings +were muffled. He seemed to be standing somewhere a long way outside +himself and contemplating the two people here in the room with a deal +of curiosity, and with perhaps a little pity; of which pity the woman +had her share with the man. "I see," he continued. "It was all a +sham?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda glanced at him, and from him to the glove. "Even the glove was +a sham," she said quickly. "Look at it."</p> + +<p class="normal">He bent down and lifted it from her knees. Then he drew up a chair to +the table, sat down, and examined the glove. Miranda hitched her chair +closer to the table, too, and propping her elbows there, supported her +chin upon her hands.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You see that the glove is fresh," she said.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It has been worn," answered Charnock. "The fingers have been shaped +by wearing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was worn by me for ten minutes in this room the day I posted it to +you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But the tear?" he asked with a momentary quickening of speech.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I tore it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see." He laid the glove upon the table. "And the other glove--the +one you wore that night--the one I tore upon the balcony over St. +James's Park? It was you I met that night in London? Or wasn't it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The question was put without any sarcasm, but with the same dull +curiosity which had marked his other questions, and on her side she +answered it simply as she had answered the others. "Yes, it was I whom +you met, and the glove you speak of was thrown away."</p> + +<p class="normal">It seemed that he had come to the end of his questions, for he sat for +a little, drumming with his fingers on the table. Once he looked up +and towards the window, as though his very eyes needed the relief of +the wide expanse of valley.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now will you go? Please," said Miranda, gently, and the next moment +regretted that she had spoken.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, yes, I will go," he answered. "I will go back to Algeciras, and +from Algeciras to England." He was not looking at her, and so noticed +nothing of the spasm of pain which for a second convulsed her face at +his literal acceptation of her prayer. "But before I go, tell me;" and +the questions began again.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You say you need no one?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No one."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then why did you cry out a minute ago, 'It's the friend I want, +not the lover'? You were not amusing yourself then. Why, too, did +you--this afternoon in the garden, perhaps you remember--when the +flowers fell on to the ground between us? Neither were you amusing +yourself then."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda drew the glove away from where it lay in front of him; +absently she began to slip it over her hand, and then becoming aware +of what she did, and of certain associations with that action at this +moment, she hurriedly stripped it off.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Perhaps I have no right to press you," he said; "but I should like to +know."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda spread the glove out on the table, and carefully divided and +spread out the fingers. "I will tell you," she said at length, with +something of a spirt in the quickness of her speech. "I am still +capable of remorse, though very likely you can hardly believe that. Do +you remember," she began to speak with greater ease, "when we rode out +to Ronda La Viega, I asked you why you never expressed what you felt? +I was then beginning to be afraid that you would take my--my trick too +much to heart--that you would really think I needed you. My fear +became certain this afternoon, when I--I was putting the flower in +your coat. I was sorry then, as you saw when you came into the room. I +was yet more sorry when you spoke to me as you did, for I thought that +if you hadn't cared, if you had never intended to be more than my +friend, the trick would not have mattered so much. And that was just +what I meant, when I said it was the friend I wanted, not the lover."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock listened to the explanation, accepted it and put it away in +his mind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see," he remarked, and her bosom rose and fell quickly. "All this +time you have been just playing with me as you played with Wilbraham +this afternoon."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just in the same way," she returned without flinching.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah, but you dropped his flower down the cliff," he exclaimed +suddenly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You forget that yours had already fallen on to the ground."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, that's true," and the suspicion died out of his face. "And that +basket of flowers?" he asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">This time, and for the first time since the questions had begun, +Miranda did flinch. She had a great difficulty in answering, "It has +already been sent off."</p> + +<p class="normal">"To Gibraltar?" Miranda's difficulty increased. "To whom at Gibraltar? +A friend, a man?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda's face grew very white; she tried to speak and failed; her +throat, her lips, refused the answer. "At all events," she managed to +whisper hoarsely, "not to a woman," and thereupon she laughed most +mirthlessly, till the strange, harsh, strangled noise of it penetrated +as something unfamiliar to Charnock's dazed mind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon," he said; "I was forgetful. I had no right to ask +you," and he rose from his chair. She rose too. "I am glad," he +continued with a formal politeness, "that you do not after all stand +in need of anyone's help."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, no," she replied carelessly, "no one's;" and almost before she +was aware, he was holding her wrists, one in each of his hands, and +with his eyes he was searching her face, silently interrogating her +for the truth. Once before, upon the balcony, he had bidden her in +just this way answer him, and now, as then, she found herself under a +growing compulsion to obey.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You hurt me," she had the wit to say, and instantly Charnock released +her wrists.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon," said he, and he walked to the door. At the door +he turned. "Tell me," he said abruptly, "you dropped your glove--not +that one on the table, but the other--just as you stepped out on to +the balcony?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," she answered, and wondered what was coming.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was that an accident?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda stepped back and lowered her head.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You remember everything," she murmured.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was it an accident?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are unsparing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was it an accident?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was a trick, a sham like all the rest?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just like all the rest," said Miranda, wearily.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see," said Charnock. "Good-bye."</p> + +<p class="normal">He went out of the room and closed the door behind him.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was very quiet and still in the patio. In the square of blue sky +there was no cloud; the sunshine poured into the court, only in one +corner there was a shadow climbing the wall, where there had been no +shadow when he entered the room. He vaguely wondered what the time +was, and then someone laughed. Someone above him. He looked up. Jane +Holt was leaning over the railing of the balcony.</p> + +<p class="normal">He made some sort of remark; and he gathered from her reply that he +had been asking why she laughed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why did I laugh?" she said. "Do you believe in affinities?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," he rejoined. "Why?"</p> + +<p class="normal">She descended the stairs as she answered him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I saw you standing in the doorway there with your hand on your +throat, breathing hard and quick, and altogether a very tragical +picture."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was not aware whether the details were true or not. "Well?" +he asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well," she replied. "Do you remember the afternoon you came here? I +was in that lounge chair. You were shown into the parlour. You did not +notice me. Neither did Miranda when she followed you. But she stopped +on the threshold."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, I remarked it. She stopped for some while. Well?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, she stood just as you were standing a minute ago, in that +precise attitude, with her hand to her throat, breathing hard and +quick, and with a face not less tragical."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock's face now at all events ceased to look tragical. Jane Holt +saw it brighten extraordinarily. Miranda, had she been there, would +not at this moment have complained of its lack of expression.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's true?" he asked eagerly. "What you tell me is true? She stood +here, and in that attitude?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's the one point unexplained. I forgot to ask. She did not refer +to it. She stood here breathing hard and quick, you say, before she +entered the room--with all that appearance of surprise--she stood +here! Mere remorse does not account for that, does not account for her +manner. On her own showing it cannot account, since the remorse was +only felt this afternoon. There <i>is</i> something more." He was talking +enigmas to Miss Holt, who went into the parlour and left him in the +patio to talk to himself if he would. She was not greatly interested +in his relationship towards Miranda. However, Charnock was not the +only person to talk enigmas to her that afternoon. She found Miranda +standing just as Charnock had left her. Miranda remained standing, +with any absent answer to Jane Holt's remarks, until the big +outer-doors clanged to, and made the house tremble.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then she started violently. The sound of those doors shook her as no +word or look of Charnock's had done. Her ears magnified it. It seemed +to her that the doors swung to from the east and from the west, clean +across the world, shutting Charnock upon the one side, and herself +upon the other. It seemed to her too that as they clanged together, +her heart was caught and broken between them.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You were wrong, Jane," she said. "There are men who would be friends +if we would only let them. Possibly we always find it out too late; I +only found it out this afternoon." The clock struck the hour as she +was speaking. "Four o'clock; the train for Algeciras leaves at +six-fifteen," she said.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_15" href="#div1Ref_15">IN WHICH THE MAJOR LOSES HIS TEMPER AND RECOVERS IT</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">All that evening Miranda's imagination followed the 6.15 train from +Ronda to Algeciras. She looked at the clock at half-past ten. The +ferry would be crossing from Algeciras to Gibraltar, and no doubt +Charnock was crossing upon it. She felt a loneliness of which she had +never had experience. And when she woke up in the morning from a +troubled sleep, it was only to picture some stately mail steamer +marching out from Algeciras Bay. She was conscious to the full of the +irony of the situation. If she had only met this man years ago, seven +years ago--that regret was a continual cry at her heart, and not the +least part of her loneliness was made up from her clear remembrance of +the picture of herself which she had given him to carry away.</p> + +<p class="normal">She ordered her horse to be brought round early that morning, and rode +out past the hotel a few minutes before nine. Major Wilbraham saw her +pass. He was down betimes as a rule when he stayed in a hotel, since +it was his habit, as often as possible, to look over the letters which +came for the different visitors. The mere postmark he had known upon +occasion to give him quite valuable hints. There was only, however, a +telegram for Charnock, which he genially offered to deliver himself +and did deliver, running into Charnock's bedroom for that purpose. +Charnock thanked him and read the telegram. It seemed to raise his +spirits.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Good news, old friend?" asked the Major.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well--interesting news," replied Charnock, as he lathered his face.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, you shall give me it another time," said the Major, as he saw +Charnock put the telegram in his pocket. "So long!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major went downstairs and kept an eye upon the road. At ten +o'clock he noticed Miranda returning slowly. He put on his hat and +followed her. When he reached the house the horse was still at the +door, but Miranda had gone in. He observed that Charnock was +hesitating upon the other side of the road. Charnock was in fact +debating his plan of action; the Major's was already prepared. The +door stood open. Wilbraham put ceremony upon one side, the more +readily since ceremony would very likely have barred the door in his +face. He walked straight into the patio where Miranda stood before a +little wicker table drawing off her gloves.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Had a pleasant ride?" said the Major. "Nice horse; I am partial to +roans myself--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you want?" asked Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"To so uncompromising a question, I must needs give an uncompromising +reply. I want one thousand jimmies per annum," and the Major bowed +gracefully.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," said Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But excuse me, yes, very much yes. You see, there is my excellent +young friend, the locomotive-man."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can't you keep his name out of the conversation?" she suggested, but +with a dangerous quietude of voice.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Indeed no," replied the Major, who was entirely at his ease. He +looked sympathetically at her face. "You look pale; you have not slept +well; you are tired, and so you do not follow me. Charnock is my God +of the machine, a blind unconscious God--shall we say a Cupid, but a +Cupid in the machine? Let me explain! May I be seated? No? So sorry! +On the first night of Charnock's stay at Ronda, I had the honour to +follow him while he took a stroll."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You followed him unseen, of course?" said Miranda, contemptuously, as +she tossed her gloves on to the wicker table.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You take me, you take me perfectly," returned the Major. "I followed +him unseen, a habit of mine, and at times a very profitable habit. +Charnock walked--whither? Can you guess? Can't you tell?" He hummed +with unabashed impertinence. "He walked down a certain road which +winds down the precipice under your windows. Ah!"--he uttered the +exclamation in a playful raillery, for Miranda's hand had gone to her +heart; "he walked down that road until he came to an angle from which +he could see your lighted window."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Show me," said Miranda, suddenly. She walked round the patio, threw +open the door of her parlour, and crossed to the window. The window +was open, and the Major looked out. The window was in the outer wall +of the wing, and was built on the very rim of the precipice. Wilbraham +looked straight down on to the road.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That was the angle, Mrs. Warriner," said he, pointing with his +finger. "By that heap of stones he sat him down." Mrs. Warriner leaned +out of the window with something of a smile parting her lips. "At the +bottom of the bank he sat and aspired. Little Ambrose reclined on the +top."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda turned from the window abruptly. "Let us go back." She +returned to the patio and took her former position by the wicker +table. Wilbraham, upon the other side of it, faced her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"We could only see the ceiling of the room," he continued, "and the +shadow of your head. But so little contents an amorous engineer. He +sighed, and what a sigh, and yet how typical! So hoarse it seemed the +whistle of an engine; so deep, it surely came from a cutting. He went +home singing beneath the stars. He did not tread the ground. How +should he? Love was his permanent way."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda had listened so far without interruption, though the Major, +had he been less pleased with his flowery description, might have +noticed something ominous in the still depths of her dark eyes. "Mr. +Wilbraham," she said, "there is a little wicker table between us."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And on the table?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"A pair of gloves."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not only a pair of gloves."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah true! A riding-whip."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I was sure that you had not noticed it before."</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major picked it up and examined the mounting of the handle. "It is +very pretty," he remarked with emphasis, and laid it down again. "As I +was about to say,"--he proceeded with his argument,--"I thus obtained +on the night of Charnock's arrival a very clear knowledge of his +sentiments towards you, while you, on the other hand, have been +obliging enough to favour me with some hint of your own towards him, +not merely this morning, when you asked me to point out the precise +point of the road from which he worshipped your window, but yesterday +when, in order to give an impetus to his bashfulness, you ingeniously +courted myself. If I were, then, at all disposed to make +unpleasantness, you see that all I have to do is to walk out of your +house and inform the trustful Charnock that Mrs. Warriner is carefully +concealing the existence of her husband from the man with whom she is +in love."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda took up the riding-whip. The Major did not give ground. If +anything, he leaned a little towards her. His eyebrows drew together +until they joined; his bird-like eyes narrowed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Drop it! Drop that whip," he commanded sharply. "I warn you, Mrs. +Warriner. I have dealt with you gently, though you are a woman; be +prudent. What if I took the gloves off? Eh?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You would place me in a better position," replied Miranda, who still +held the whip, "to point out to you that your hands are not clean."</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham stepped back, stared at her, and burst into a laugh. "I will +never deny that you are possessed or an admirable spirit," said he.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I would rather have your threats than your compliments," said she. +"For your threats I can answer with threats; I cannot do the same with +your compliments."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Threat for threat, then," said the Major; "but there's a difference +in the threats. You cannot put yours into practice since I have my +eyes upon the whip, whereas I can mine."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can you?" said Miranda, with a suspicion of triumph.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can," returned the Major. "I can walk straight out of your house +and tell Luke Charnock," and he banged his hand upon the table and +leaned over it. "Now what do you say?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I say that you cannot, for Mr. Charnock is at Gibraltar, if he is not +already on the sea."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mr. Charnock is at Ronda, and contemplating the ornaments of your +door at this very moment," said the Major, triumphantly.</p> + +<p class="normal">But never did a man get less visible proofs of his triumph. Miranda, +it is true, was evidently startled; her bosom rose and fell quickly; +but she was pleasurably startled, as her face showed. For it cleared +of its weariness with a magical swiftness, the blood pulsed warmly in +her cheeks, her eyes sparkled and laughed, her contemptuous lips +parted in the happiest of smiles.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham construed her reception of his news in his own fashion.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You may smile, my lady," said he, brutally. "It's gratifying no doubt +to have your lover hanging about your doors, a wistful Lazarus for the +crumbs of your favour. It's pleasant no doubt to transform a man into +a tame whipped puppy-dog. There's not one of you, from Eve to a modern +factory-girl, but envies Circe her enchantments, and imitates them to +the best of her ability. Circes--Circes in laced petticoats and +open-worked stockings--to help you in the dainty work of making a man +a beast." The Major's vindictiveness had fairly got hold of him. "But +in the original story, if you remember, the men resumed their shape; +now what if I play Ulysses in our version of the story!--" There was a +knock upon the outer door. The Major paused, and continued hurriedly: +"Do you understand? That knock may have been Charnock's. Do you +understand? He may be entering the house at this moment."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He is," said Miranda, quietly.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major listened. He distinctly heard Charnock's voice speaking to +the servant; he dropped his own to a whisper. "Then what if I told +him, your lover, now and here, the truth about Ralph Warriner?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You shall," said Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">Major Wilbraham was completely taken aback. She had spoken in no gust +of passion, but slowly and calmly. Her face, equally calm, equally +resolute, showed him that she intended and understood what she had +said. The Major was in a predicament. The drawback to blackmailing as +a profession is that the blackmailer's secret is only of value so long +as he never tells it, his threats only of use so long as they are +never enforced; and here he was in imminent danger of being compelled +to tell his secret and execute his threat. If Charnock knew the truth, +he would certainly lose his extra three hundred per annum. Moreover, +since Charnock was a man, and not a woman, he would very likely lose +his original seven hundred into the bargain. These reflections flashed +simultaneously into the Major's mind; but already he heard Charnock's +step sounding in the passage. "I don't wish to push you too far," he +whispered. "Tomorrow, to-morrow."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, to-day," said Miranda, quietly. "You shall tell my lover the +truth about Ralph Warriner, and to help you to tell it him +convincingly you shall tell it with this mark across your face."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock did not see the blow struck, but he heard Wilbraham's cry, +and as he entered the patio, he saw the wheal redden and ridge upon +his face. He stood still for a second in amazement. Wilbraham had +reeled back from the table against the wall, with his coat-sleeve +pressed upon his smarting cheeks. Miranda alone seemed composed. There +was indeed even an air of relief about her; for she was at last to be +lightened of the deception.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Major Wilbraham," she said as she dropped the whip upon the table and +walked away to a lounge chair, "Major Wilbraham,"--she seated herself +in the chair as though she was to be henceforward a spectator,--"Major +Wilbraham has a confidence to make to you," she said.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And by God I have!" snarled the Major as he started forward. It would +be told for a certain thing, either by Mrs. Warriner or himself, and +since the slash of the whip burned intolerably upon his face, he meant +to do the telling himself.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That woman's husband is alive."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock's face was a mask. He did not start; he did not even look at +Miranda; only he was silent for some seconds. Then he said, "Well?" +and said it in a quite commonplace, ordinary voice, as though he +wondered what there was to make any pother about.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda was startled, the Major utterly dumbfoundered. His blow had +seemingly failed to hurt, and his anger was thereby redoubled.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A small thing, eh?" he sneered. "A husband more or less don't matter +in these days of the sacred laws of passion? Well, very likely. But +this husband is a peculiar sort of a husband. He slipped out of +Gibraltar one fine night. Why? Because he had sold the plans of the +new Daventry gun to a foreign government, being stony."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well?" said Charnock, again.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, I know where he is."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well?" asked Charnock, for the third time, and with an unchanged +imperturbability.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham suddenly ceased from his accusations. He looked at Miranda, +who was herself looking on the ground, and gently beating it with her +foot. From Miranda he looked to Charnock. Then he uttered a long +whistle, as if some new idea had occurred to him. "So you are both in +the pretty secret, are you?" he said, and stopped to consider how that +supposition affected himself. His hopes immediately revived. "Why, +then, you are both equally interested in keeping it dark! I can't say +but what I am glad, for I can point out to you precisely what I have +pointed out to Mrs. Warriner. I have merely to present myself at +Scotland Yard, observe that Ralph Warriner is alive, and mention a +port in England where he may from time to time be found, and--do you +follow me?--there is Ralph Warriner laid by the heels in a place which +not even a triple-expansion locomotive, with the engineer from +Algeciras for the driver, will get him out of."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And how does that concern me?" asked Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The consequences concern you. It will be known, for instance, that +Mrs. Warriner has a real live husband."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see," said Charnock. He looked at Wilbraham with a curious +interest. Then he spoke to Miranda, but without looking towards her at +all. "It is blackmail, I suppose?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said she.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is a claim for common gratitude," Wilbraham corrected.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's the price of the claim?" asked Charnock, pleasantly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"One thousand jimmies per annum is the minimum figure," replied the +Major, whose jauntiness was quite restored. Since his affairs +progressed so swimmingly towards prosperity, he was prepared to +forgive, and, as soon as his looking-glass allowed, to forget that +hasty slash of the riding-whip.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And up till now how much have you received?" continued Charnock, in +the same pleasant business-like voice.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A beggarly two hundred and fifty."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then if for form's sake you will give Mrs. Warriner an I O U for that +amount she can wish you good-day."</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilbraham smiled gaily, and with some condescension. "Is it bluff?" +said he. "Where's the use? My dear Charnock, I have a full hand, +and--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear Major," replied Charnock, "I hold a royal straight flush."</p> + +<p class="normal">He produced a telegram from his pocket. The Major eyed it with +suspicion. "Is that the telegram I brought into your room this +morning?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is. To keep up your metaphor, you dealt me my hand. Do you call +it?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major cocked his head. Charnock's ease was so very natural; his +good temper so complete. Still, he might be merely playing the game; +besides, one never knew what there might be in a telegram. "I do," he +said.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very well," said Charnock. He sat down upon a chair, and spread out +the telegram on his knee. "You talk very airily, Major, of dropping in +upon Scotland Yard. Would it surprise you to hear that Scotland Yard +would welcome you with open arms, for other reasons than a mere +gratitude for your information?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major was more than disappointed; he confessed to being grieved. +"I expected something more subtle, I did indeed. Really, my dear +Charnock, you are a novice! Sir, a novice."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But a novice with a royal straight flush. Major, why have you been +living for four months at an out-of-the-way and unentertaining place +like Tarifa?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will answer you with frankness. I wished to keep my fingers upon +Mrs. Warriner. An occasional tweak of the fingers, dear friend, is +very useful if only to show that you are awake."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was that the only reason?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," interposed Miranda. "He wanted quiet; he is translating Horace."</p> + +<p class="normal">The Major actually blushed, for the first and last time that morning. +Accusations, even proofs of infamy, he could accept without a stir of +the muscles; but to be charged, perhaps to be ridiculed, with his one +honourable project--the Major was hurt.</p> + +<p class="normal">"A little mean!" he said gently to Miranda. "You will agree with me +when you think it over. A little mean!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"But there was a third reason beyond those two," resumed Charnock. +"When I saw you dining at the hotel on the night of my arrival, when I +remembered that you had been living for four months at Tarifa, where +from time to time I had the pleasure to come across you, I began, for +reasons which there's no need to explain, to wonder whether you were +causing any trouble to Mrs. Warriner. That night, too, if you +remember, when I went for a stroll"--here Charnock faltered for a +second, and Miranda looked quickly up--"you followed me, Major. When I +sat down at the foot of the bank, you crouched upon the top. You made +a mistake there, Major, for I at once thought it wise to learn what I +could of your history and character. I accordingly wrote a letter that +night to a friend of mine, who also happens to be an official at +Scotland Yard. His answer, you see, comes by telegraph, and you will +see that a reply is prepaid."</p> + +<p class="normal">He handed the telegram to the Major. The Major read it through and +glanced anxiously towards the door, taking up his hat from the table +at the same time.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think so, too," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What does the telegram say?" asked Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nothing definite, but every word of it is suggestive," answered +Charnock. "I asked my friend if he knew anything of Major Ambrose +Wilbraham. He wires me: 'Yes. Is he at Ronda?' and prepays the reply. +If there's a warrant already issued, Major, I don't think I should +waste time, but you of course are the best judge."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did you answer it?" asked the Major.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have not answered it yet. Do you think Scotland Yard will wait for +an answer? It does not interest me very much. The one point which does +interest me is this. You are hardly in a position to enter into +communication with Scotland Yard in order to revenge yourself on Mrs. +Warriner for not paying you blackmail."</p> + +<p class="normal">Major Wilbraham tugged at his moustache. His jauntiness had vanished, +and his face had grown very sombre and tired during the last few +minutes.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I get nothing, then?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Not one depreciated Spanish dollar."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a knock at the door. The Major started; he looked from +Charnock to Miranda, his mouth opened, his eyes widened, he became at +once a creature scared and hunted. The door was opened; the three +people in the patio held their breath; but it was merely the postman +with a letter for Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I must get out of here," said Wilbraham. "I must get out of Ronda. My +God, I have to begin it again, have I--the hunt for breakfast and +dinner?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He showed a dangerous face at that moment. His lips were drawn back +from his teeth, his eyes furtive and murderous. Miranda felt very glad +of Charnock's presence.</p> + +<p class="normal">However, the Major mastered himself. He might have taken some sort of +revenge by insulting Miranda, on account of her disposition towards +Charnock; but he did not, and it was not fear of Charnock which +restrained him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I go back to the regiment, Mrs. Warriner," he said, "the regiment of +the soldiers of fortune. I have had my furlough--four months' +furlough. I cannot complain." He endeavoured to speak gaily and to bow +with grace.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Good-bye," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda was implacably silent.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And they call women the softer sex," said the Major.</p> + +<p class="normal">"One moment," exclaimed Miranda, taking no notice of his remark. "Mr. +Wilbraham has a letter from my husband about the Daventry gun."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is mine," answered the Major; "it was written to me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will buy it," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"For a thousand--?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No; for permission to answer this prepaid telegram to Scotland Yard."</p> + +<p class="normal">"In your name?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"In my name."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You're not a bad fellow, Charnock," said the Major as he drew out his +pocket-book. He handed the letter to Charnock, looked at him +curiously, and then laughed softly, without malice.</p> + + +<p class="center">"O lover of my life! O soldier-saint!"</p> + + +<p class="continue">he quoted. "A great poet, what? Do you know Ralph Warriner? Will you +play Caponsacchi to his Guido? You might; very likely you will." The +Major took the reply form and turned away.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is not always a profitable habit, it seems," said Miranda, "that +habit of following."</p> + +<p class="normal">"A little mean!" said the Major, gently. "Perhaps, too, a little +overdone," and as he went out of the patio Miranda flushed and felt +ashamed. Then the flush faded from her cheeks and left her white, for +she was alone with Charnock and had to make her account with him.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_16" href="#div1Ref_16">EXPLAINS WHY CHARNOCK SAW MIRANDA'S FACE IN HIS MIRROR</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">Miranda rose nervously from her chair. She made an effort to speak, +which failed, and then yielding to a peremptory impulse she ran away. +It was only, however, into her parlour that she ran, and thither +Charnock followed her. She stood up rather quickly in the farthest +corner of the room as soon as he entered, drew a pattern with her foot +upon the floor, and tried to appear entirely at her ease. She did not +look at Charnock, however; on the contrary she kept her eyes upon the +ground, and felt very much like a school-girl who is going to be +punished.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your husband is alive." Charnock's voice was cold and stern. Miranda +resented it all the more because she knew she deserved nothing less +than sternness. "Did you," he continued, "learn that from Wilbraham +for the first time this morning?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," she answered, and since she had found her voice, she added +rebelliously, "No, teacher," and was at once aware that levity was not +in the best of taste. Charnock perhaps was not at that moment in a +mood for jocularities.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How long have you known that your husband was alive?" he asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Five months," she answered.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who told you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was a moment's pause. Miranda's foot described more figures on +the floor, and with great assiduity.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon," said Charnock. "It is very humorous, no doubt, +but--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is true," interrupted Miranda. "If I had wished to evade you, to +deceive you, I should have answered that Mr. Wilbraham brought me the +news this morning."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should have disbelieved it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You could not at all events have disproved it. You would have had not +a single word to say." She raised her eyes now and confronted him +defiantly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said Charnock, "I admit that," and a great change came over +Miranda. She stepped out of her corner. She raised her arms above her +head like one waking from sleep. "But I have had my fill of +deceptions. I am surfeited. Ask what you will, I'll answer you, and +answer you the truth. And for one thing, this is true: you told me +Ralph Warriner was alive, that night, at Lady Donnisthorpe's."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I told you? On the balcony?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, before. In the ball-room. You described him to me. You quoted his +phrases. You had seen him that very morning. He was the stranger you +quarrelled with in the streets of Plymouth."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And you knew him from my description!" cried Charnock. All the anger +had gone from his face, all the coldness from his voice. "I remember. +Your face grew so white in the shadow of the alcove I should have +believed you had swooned but for the living trouble in your eyes. Your +face became through its pallor and distress the face which I had seen +in my mirror. Oh, that mirror and its message!" He broke into a harsh +bitter laugh, and seating himself at the table, beat upon his forehead +with his clenched fists. "A message of appeal! A call for help! Was +there ever such a fool in all the world? Here's one woman out of all +the millions who needs my help, I was vain enough to think, and the +first thing, the only thing that I did, was to tell her that her +outcast bully of a husband was still alive to bully her. A fine way to +help! But I guessed correctly even that night. Yes, even on that night +I was afraid that I had revealed to you some misfortune of which you +were unaware. Oh, why wasn't I struck dumb before I spoke? But you +could not have been sure from my description," he cried eagerly, +grasping in his remorse at so poor a straw as that subterfuge. "For +men are not all unlike, and they use the same phrases. You could not +have been certain. You must have had some other proof before you were +convinced."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, that is true."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And that other proof you got from someone else?" he said, and his +voice implored her to assent.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda only shook her head. "I promised to speak nothing but the +truth. I got that other proof from you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, no," he exclaimed. "Let me think! No, I told you nothing else but +just my meeting with the man, my quarrel with him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said Miranda. "You told me how you woke up from dreaming of +Ralph, and saw my face in your mirror. Don't you see? There is the +convincing proof that the man you described to me, the man you +quarrelled with, the man you dreamed of, was Ralph, for when you woke +with that dream vivid in your mind, you saw my face vivid in your +mirror. You yourself were at a loss to account for it, you had never +so much as thought of me during the seven years since--since our eyes +met at Monte Carlo. You could not imagine why on that particular +night, after you had dreamed of someone else, unassociated with me, my +face should have come back to you. But it was no mystery to me. The +man you dreamed of was not unassociated with me; it was my husband, +and the husband recalled to you the wife, by an unconscious trick of +memory."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I did not know he was your husband," cried Charnock. "I had never +seen him with you; I had never seen him at all before that day I +quarrelled with him in the streets of Plymouth."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You had," answered Miranda, gently. "He was with me that night at +Monte Carlo seven years ago. We were on our honeymoon," she added, +with a queer melancholy smile.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock remembered the look of happiness upon her young face, and +compared it with the tired woman's face which he saw now. "He was with +you!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes. You forgot us both. You met him again; you did not remember that +you had ever seen him, but none the less, the memory was latent in +you, and recalled me to you too. You could not trace the association, +but it was very clear to me."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wait, wait!" said Charnock. He sat with his elbows on the table and +the palms of his hands tightly pressed upon his eyes. "I can see you, +as clearly as I saw you then at Monte Carlo, as though you were +standing there, now, in the room and I in the room was watching you. +You were a little apart from the table, you were standing a few feet +behind the croupier at one end of the table. But Ralph Warriner! Was +he amongst the players? Wait! Let me think!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock remained silent. Miranda did not interrupt him, and in a +little he began again, piecing together his memories, revivifying that +scene in the gambling-room seven years ago. "I can see the lamps with +their green shades, I can see the glow of light upon the green table +beneath the lamps. I can see the red diamond, the yellow lines upon +the cloth, the three columns of numbers in the middle, the crowd about +the table, some seated, others leaning over their chairs. But their +faces! Their faces!" and then he suddenly cried out, "Ah! He was +seated, in front of you, next to the croupier. You were behind him," +and in his excitement he reached out his arm towards her, and with +shaking fingers bade her speak.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said she, "I was behind him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You moved to him. I understand now. His back was towards me at the +first--when I first saw you, when our eyes met. It was that vision of +you, the first, which I carried away, it was that only which I +remembered--you standing alone there. It was that which came back to +me when I saw your face in my mirror, just the picture of you as you +stood alone, distinct from the flowers in your hat to the tip of your +shoe, before you moved to the table, before you laid your hand on +Ralph Warriner's shoulder, before he turned to answer you and so +showed me his face. I remember, indeed. I saw his hand first of all. +It was reached out holding his stake. I can even remember that he laid +his stake on <i>impare</i> and then he turned to you. Yes, yes, it's true," +and Charnock rose from the table in his agitation, and walked once or +twice across the room. "It was Ralph Warriner I met at Plymouth, and +because of that trivial, ridiculous quarrel, I told you that he +lived!"</p> + +<p class="normal">He stopped suddenly in front of the writing-table, and stood staring +out through the window, while his fingers idly played with a newspaper +which lay upon the desk.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But Major Wilbraham," said Miranda, thinking to lessen his remorse, +"Major Wilbraham told me too, and only a month later; he came to me in +the Cathedral at Ronda here, and told me. He would have told me in any +case."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Wilbraham!" said Charnock. "Yes, that's true. How did he find out? +Who told Wilbraham?" and he turned eagerly towards Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda stammered and faltered. She had not foreseen the question, and +she tried to evade it. "He found out. He used his wits. He saw there +was profit in the discovery if he could--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"If he could make the discovery. I understand that; but how did he +make the discovery?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why, what does it matter?" cried Miranda. "He followed up a clue."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock noticed her hesitation, her effort to evade his question. +"But who gave him the clue?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda moved restlessly about the room. "He set his wits to work--he +found out," she repeated. She sat down in the same chair in which +Charnock had sat. "What does it matter?" she said, and even as +Charnock had done, she pressed her hands upon her face.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You promised me to answer truly whatever question I put to you," said +he, who, the more she hesitated, was the more resolved to know. "I ask +you this question. Who gave him the clue?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Since you will have it then,"--Miranda drew her hands from her +face,--"my poor friend, you did," she answered gently.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was more than startled. His face changed. There was something +even of horror in his eyes as he leaned across the table towards her. +"I?" he gasped. "I did?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I would have spared you the knowledge of that," she said with a +smile, "if only you would have allowed me to; but you would not. You +pointed out to him a brigantine, which you passed off Ushant."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, the <i>Tarifa</i>."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The <i>Tarifa</i> was once the <i>Ten Brothers</i>, Ralph's yacht which was +supposed to have been wrecked on Rosevear."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But the <i>Ten Brothers</i> was a schooner," urged Charnock. "I was told +only a few weeks ago at Gibraltar--one of the Salcombe--oh yes, that's +true too. I suggested to Wilbraham--to Wilbraham who said he was +familiar with the look of the boat--I suggested to him that the +<i>Tarifa</i> was one of the Salcombe clippers."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes. Wilbraham had known Ralph at Gibraltar, had seen the <i>Ten +Brothers</i>, very likely had been aboard of her. That was why the look +of the <i>Tarifa</i> was familiar to him. When you told him the <i>Tarifa</i> +was a Salcombe boat he understood why it was familiar. It was the +merest clue; but he followed it up and found out."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And blackmailed you!" continued Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">He turned back to the writing-table and the window. Again his fingers +played idly with the newspaper. For a while he was silent; then he +said slowly, "Do you remember what you said to me on the balcony? That +no man could offer a woman help without doing her a hurt in some other +way."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I spoke idly," interrupted Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You spoke very truly, for here's the proof."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I spoke to elude you," said Miranda, stubbornly. "It was a mere idle +fancy which came into my head, and the next moment was forgotten."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I remembered it," cried Charnock. "It was more true than you +thought."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was no more true than"--she hesitated. However, Charnock was not +looking at her; she found it possible to proceed--"than another belief +which led me astray, as this one is leading you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What other belief?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda nerved herself to answer him. "That no man would serve a woman +well, except for--for the one reason."</p> + +<p class="normal">The nature of that reason was apparent to Charnock from the very +tone in which she spoke the word. "And you believed that?" he asked. +In a movement of surprise he had knocked the newspaper off the +writing-table. Underneath the newspaper was a book.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I did believe it," she replied, her face rosy with confusion, "for a +few mad miserable days," and she checked herself suddenly, for she saw +that Charnock had absently opened and was absently turning over the +leaves of the book.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was the message of your mirror after all so false?" she whispered. He +turned towards her, with a face quite illumined. He did not, however, +leave the table, and he kept the pages of the book open with his +fingers.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then after all you do need help?" he cried.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Need it?" she returned with a loud cry, and she stretched out hands +across the table towards him. "Indeed, indeed I need it, I desperately +need it! I sent the glove because I needed it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then the glove was no sham?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was not the glove that you tore; that was thrown away, but not by +me. I searched for it, it was not to be found. So I tore the other and +sent it as a substitute."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And when I came, waited to discover," he added, "whether the one +reason held me to your service. I understand."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You see," she agreed, "really, in my heart, all the time I trusted +you, for I knew you would keep your word. I knew you would say +nothing, but would just wait and wait until I told you what it was I +needed done."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock turned abruptly towards her, and as he turned the book +slipped off the table and fell to the ground. "But yesterday," he +exclaimed in perplexity, "yesterday, here in this room, I gave you the +assurance which you looked for. You believed a man would only help you +for the one reason. Well, I told you that the one reason held with me; +yet, at that moment, you rejected all help and service. You cried out, +'It's the friend I want, not the lover.'"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because just at that moment I understood that my belief was wrong. I +understood the shame, the horror, of the tricks I had played on you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Tricks?" said Charnock. "Oh!" and as he stooped down to pick up the +book he added in a voice of comprehension, "At last! You puzzled me +yesterday when you said, 'To possess the friend you had had to <i>make</i> +the lover.'"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," she said eagerly, "you understand? I want you to. I want you to +understand to the last letter, so that you may decide whether you will +help me or not, knowing what the woman is who asks your help. I sat +down to trick you into caring for me if by any means I could. I did it +deliberately, how deliberately you will see if you only open the book +you hold. And it wasn't until I had won that I realised that I had +cheated to win and could not profit by the gains. I won yesterday and +yesterday I sent you away. Perhaps God kept you here."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock made no answer. He sat down at the table opposite to Miranda +and turned over the leaves of the book, whilst Miranda watched him, +holding her breath. He was not angry yet, but she dreaded the moment +when he should understand the subject-matter of the book.</p> + +<p class="normal">The book was a collection of letters written by a great French lady at +the Court of Louis XV. to a young girl-relative in Provence, and the +letters were intended to serve as a guide to the girl's provincial +inexperience. There was much sage instruction as to the best methods +of handling men, "ces animaux effroyables, dont nous ne pouvons ni ne +voudrons nous débarrasser," as the great lady politely termed them. In +the margin of the book Miranda's pencil had scored lines against +passages here and there. Charnock read out one:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Et prends bien garde de tellement diriger la conversation qu'il parle +beaucoup de lui-même."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That accounts for the history of my life which I gave you in your +garden," said Charnock. He was not angry yet; he was even smiling.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said Miranda, seriously; "but there's worse! Go on!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Soyez sage, ma mie," he read, turning over a page. "On ne possede +jamais un de ces animaux sans qu'on peut bien disposer d'un autre. +Celui que tu aimes, t'aimera aussi si tu fais la cour a un deuxième. +Ils ont bien tort qui disent qu'il ne faut que deux pour faire +l'amour. Il faut au moins trois."</p> + +<p class="normal">"That accounts for Wilbraham, and the basket of flowers for +Gibraltar."</p> + +<p class="normal">"For Wilbraham, yes," said Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock did not notice that she excluded the basket of flowers from +her assent. He read out other items, still without any appearance of +anger. A foot carelessly exhibited and carefully withdrawn, the young +lady in the country was informed, might kick a hole in any male heart, +so long as the foot was slim, and the shoe all that it should be. +Charnock closed the book and sat opposite to Miranda with a laughing +face, enjoying her intense earnestness.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So you won by cheating?" he said, "and this book taught you how to +cheat?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, but I don't think you have grasped it," she replied seriously, +"and I want you to. I want you to understand the horrible, hateful way +in which I made you care for me. I now know that I ought to have +relied upon your friendship when you first came to Ronda. But I chose +the worse part, and if you say that you will not help me, why, I must +abide by it, and Ralph must abide by it too. But there shall be +nothing but truth now between you and me. I was not content with +friendship, I had the time I knew to try to make you care for me in +the other way, and I did try hatefully, and hatefully I succeeded--" +and to Miranda's surprise Charnock leaned back in his chair, and +laughed loudly and heartily for a long while. The more perplexed +Miranda looked, the more he laughed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Believe me, Mrs. Warriner," he said, and stopped to laugh again, "if +I had met you for the first time at Ronda, I should have taken the +first train back to Algeciras. Your tricks! I noticed them all, and +they drove me wild with indignation."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you mean that?" exclaimed Miranda, and her downcast face +brightened.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do indeed," answered Charnock. "Oh, your tricks! I almost hated you +for them." He began to laugh again as he recollected them.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am so glad," replied Miranda, in the prettiest confusion, and as +Charnock laughed, in a little her eyes began to dance and she laughed +too.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall I tell you what kept me at Ronda?" he said. "Because, in spite +of yourself, every now and then yourself broke through the tricks. +Because, however much you tried, you could not but reveal to me, now +and then, some fleeting glimpse of the woman who once stood beside me +in a balcony and looked out over the flashing carriage-lights to the +quiet of St. James's Park. It was in memory of that woman that I +stayed."</p> + +<p class="normal">He was speaking with all seriousness now, and Miranda uttered a long +trembling sigh of gratitude. "Thank you," she said, "thank you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now what can I do for you?" he asked, and Miranda made haste to +reply.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_17" href="#div1Ref_17">SHOWS HOW A TOMBSTONE MAY CONVINCE WHEN ARGUMENTS FAIL</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">She showed him the scribbled note which M. Fournier had brought; she +told him M. Fournier's story; how that Ralph had run guns and +ammunition from England into Morocco on board the <i>Tarifa</i>; how that +he had been kidnapped between M. Fournier's villa and the town-gate; +how that he was not held to ransom, since no demand for ransom had +come to the little Belgian; and finally how that it was impossible to +apply for help to the Legation, since Ralph was already guilty of a +crime, and would only be rescued that way in order to suffer penal +servitude in England.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What a coil to unravel!" said Charnock. "I know some Arabic. I could +go to Morocco. I went there once, but only to Tangier. But Morocco? +How shall one search Morocco without a clue?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He rested his chin upon his hand, and stared gloomily at the wall. +Miranda was careful not to interrupt his reflections. If there was a +way out, she confidently relied upon this man to find it. Once she +shivered, and Charnock looked inquiringly towards her. She was gazing +at the soiled note which lay beneath her eyes upon the table, and saw +again the picture of Ralph being beaten inland under the sun. She +began to recall his acts and words, that she might make the best of +them; she fell to considering whether she had not herself been in a +measure to blame for the shipwreck of their marriage. And so, thinking +of such matters, she absently hummed over a tune, a soft plaintive +little melody from an <i>opéra-bouffe</i>. She ended it and hummed it over +again; until it came upon her that Charnock had been silent for a long +time, and she looked up from the note into his face.</p> + +<p class="normal">He was not thinking out any plan. He was watching her with a singular +intentness, his head thrust forward from his shoulders, his face very +strained. It seemed that every fibre of his body listened and was +still, so that it might hear the better.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who taught you that tune?" he asked in a voice of suspense.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ralph," said she, in some surprise at the question; "at least I +picked it up from him."</p> + +<p class="normal">And Charnock fell back in his chair; he huddled himself in it, he let +his chin drop upon his breast. He sat staring at her with eyes which +seemed suddenly deep-sunk in a face suddenly grown white. And slowly, +gradually, it broke in upon Miranda that he held the clue after all, +that that tune was the clue, that in a word Charnock knew how Ralph +had disappeared.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You know!" she cried in her elation. "You know! Oh, and I sent you +away yesterday! What if you had gone! Only to think of it! You know! +That tune has given you the clue? It was Ralph's favourite! You heard +it--when? Where? Tell me!"</p> + +<p class="normal">To her eager, joyous questions Charnock was silent. He did not move. +He still sat huddled in his chair, with his chin fallen on his breast, +and his eyes fixedly staring at her. Miranda's enthusiasm was chilled +by his silence; it was succeeded by fear. She became frightened; she +picked up the note and held it out to him and bade it speak for her.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock did not take the note or change his position. But he said:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"Even on your honeymoon, you see, he left you to stand alone, while he +gambled at the tables."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But you mustn't think of that," she cried. "It's so small a thing."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But so typical," added Charnock, quietly.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda gave a moan and held her head between her hands. That Charnock +might refuse to help her, because with tears in her eyes she had +played the sedulous coquette, she had been prepared to acknowledge. +But that he would refuse to help, out of a mistaken belief that, by +refusing to help, he was helping best--that supposition had not so +much as occurred to her.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Read the note again," she implored him. "<i>Do quickly what you can!</i> +And see, it is a week and more since M. Fournier was here. It is a +fortnight and more since Ralph was kidnapped in the Sôk. Quickly! And +nothing is done, and nothing will be done, unless you do it. Oh, think +of him--driven, his hands tied, beaten with sticks, sold for a slave +to trudge with loads upon his back, barefooted, through Morocco! You +will go," and her voice broke and was very tender as she appealed to +him. "Please! You will have pity on me, and on him." And she watched +Charnock's face for a sign of assent, her heart throbbing, her foot +beating the ground, and every now and then a queer tremulous moan +breaking from her dry lips.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock, however, did not soften at the imagined picture of Ralph's +misfortunes, and he hardened his heart against the visible picture of +her distress.</p> + +<p class="normal">"When I was at Algeciras, I asked many questions about Ralph Warriner. +I listened to many answers," he said curtly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Exaggerated answers," she returned, and as Charnock opened his mouth +to reply, she hastened to continue: "Listen! Listen! Here's the +strange thing! Not that I should need help, not that you should help +me, not that I should come to you for help. Those three things--they +are most natural. But that coming to you, I should come to the one man +who can help, who already knows the way to help. Don't you understand? +It is very clear to me. You were <i>meant</i> to help, to help me in this +one trouble, so you were shown the means whereby to help." And seeing +Charnock still impenetrable, she burst out: "Oh, he will not help! He +will not understand!" and she took to considering how it was that he +knew, how it was that he recognised the tune.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You were in Tangier once," she argued. "Yes. You told me that not +only to-day, but at Lady Donnisthorpe's. You crossed from Gibraltar?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, just before I came to England and met you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just before! Still you won't understand? You find out +somehow--somehow in Tangier you come across a tune, an incident, +something. Immediately after you meet a woman, at the first sight of +whom you offer her your succour, and the time comes when she needs it, +and that one incident you witnessed just before you met her gives you, +and you alone in all the world, the opportunity to help her. Don't you +remember, when you first were introduced at Lady Donnisthorpe's, what +was your first feeling--one of disappointment, because I did not seem +to stand in any need? Well, I do stand in need now--and now you turn +away. And for my sake too! Was there ever such a tangle! Such a +needless irony and tangle, and all because a man cannot put a woman +from his thoughts!" And then she laughed bitterly and harshly, and so +fell back again upon her guesses.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You were in Tangier--how long?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"For a day."</p> + +<p class="normal">"When? Never mind! I know. I met you in June. You were in Tangier for +a day in May. In May!" she repeated, and stopped. Then she uttered a +cry. "May, that was the month. M. Fournier said May. You were the +man," and leaning forward she laid a clutching hand upon Charnock's +arm, which lay quiet on the table. "You were the unknown man who cried +'Look out!' through the closed door of M. Fournier's shop."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock started. He was prepared to deny the challenge, if assent +threatened to disclose his clue. But it did not. M. Fournier knew +nothing of the blind beggar at the cemetery gate where Charnock had +first heard the comic opera tune and registered it in his memory. That +was evident, since in all M. Fournier's story, there was no mention +anywhere of Hassan Akbar.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," he admitted. "It was I."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And you shouted it not as a menace--so M. Fournier thought and was +wrong--but as a warning to Ralph, my husband, whom you will not speak +a word to save. You spoke a word then, very likely you saved him then. +Well, do just as much now. I ask no more of you. Only speak the word! +Tell me the clue, I myself will follow it up. Oh, he will not speak!" +and in her agitation she rose up and paced the room.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock rose too. Miranda flew to the door and leaned her back +against it.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just for a moment! Listen to what M. Fournier said! He said that if +once we could lay our hands upon the man who shouted through the door, +we should lay our hands upon the means to rescue Ralph. Think how +truly he spoke, in a truer sense than he intended. You know why he +disappeared. You know who captured him. And if you don't speak, I +shall have no peace until I die," and she sat herself again at the +table.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you still care for him?" asked Charnock, with some gentleness.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda, who was wrought almost to frenzy, drummed upon the table with +her clenched fists.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Must we debate that question while Ralph--" Then she mastered +herself. "I know you," she said. "If I were to tell you that I loved +him heart and soul, you would go upon this errand, straight as an +arrow, for my sake. But I promised there should be nothing but truth +between you and me. I do not love him. Now, will you go to Morocco? +Or, if you will not go, will you speak?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No. Let him stay there! Where he cannot harm you. What if I was +<i>meant</i> to keep you from rescuing him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You do not know," she replied. "You can do me no greater service than +by rescuing Ralph, by bringing him back to me. Will you believe that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," said he, calmly, and she rose from her chair.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But if I proved it to you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You cannot."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will."</p> + +<p class="normal">She looked at the clock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is four o'clock," she said. "Two hours and a quarter before the +train leaves for Algeciras. Will you meet me on the platform? I had +thought to spare myself--this. But you shall have the proof. I will +not tell you of it, but I will show it to you to-morrow at Gibraltar."</p> + +<p class="normal">She spoke now with great calmness. She had hit upon the means to +persuade. She was convinced that she had, and he was afraid that she +had.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very well," said he. "The 6.15 for Algeciras."</p> + +<p class="normal">They travelled to Gibraltar that night. Miranda stayed at the Bristol, +Charnock at the Albion; they met the next morning, and walked through +the long main street. Here and there an officer looked at her with a +start of surprise and respectfully raised his hat, and perhaps took a +step or two towards her. But she did not stop to speak with anyone. It +was two years since she had set foot within the gates of Gibraltar, +and no doubt the stones upon which she walked had many memories +wherewith to bruise her. Charnock respected her silence, and kept pace +with her unobtrusively. They passed into the square with Government +House upon the one side and the mess-rooms upon the other. Charnock +sketched a picture of her in his fancies, the picture of a young girl +newly-come from the brown solitudes of Suffolk into this crowded and +picturesque fortress with the wonder of a new world in her eyes, and +contrasted it with the woman who walked beside him, and inferred the +increasing misery of her years. He was touched to greater depths of +sympathy than he had ever felt before even when she had lain with her +head upon her arms in an abandonment of distress; so that now the +uncomplaining uprightness of her figure made his heart ache, and the +sound of her footsteps was a pain. But of the most intolerable of all +her memories he had still to learn. She led him into the little +cemetery, guided him between the graves, and stopped before a +headstone on which Charnock read:--</p> + + +<p class="center"><b>RUPERT WARRINER,</b><br> +Aged 2 Years.</p> + + +<p class="continue">and the date of his birth and death.</p> + +<p class="normal">The headstone was of marble, and had been sculptured with a poetic +fancy; a boy, in whose face Charnock could trace a likeness to +Miranda, looked out and laughed between the open lattices of a window.</p> + +<p class="normal">They both watched the grave silently for a while. Then Miranda said +gently, "Now do you understand? When Rupert was born, it seemed to me +that here was a blossom on the thorn bush of the world. But you see +the blossom never flowered. He died of diphtheria. It was hard when he +died;" and Charnock suddenly started at her side.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Those flowers!" he said hoarsely.</p> + +<p class="normal">Upon the grave were scattered jonquils, geraniums, roses, pinks, +camellias--all the rich reds and yellows of Miranda's garden.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You were cutting them, packing them, that afternoon when Wilbraham +came?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Mrs. Warriner shrank from looking at Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," she confessed in a whisper.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My God!" he exclaimed. Miranda glanced at him in fear. So it was +coming; he was remembering the use to which she had put those flowers. +Would he loathe her sufficiently to withdraw his help?</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you know what I thought?" he continued. "No, you can't guess. You +could not imagine it. I actually believed that you were cutting those +flowers so that you might send them to--" and he broke off the +sentence. "But it's too odious to tell you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I meant you should believe just that," she cried. "I meant you to +believe it. Oh, how utterly hateful! How could I have done it? I +wanted to hide that from you, but it was right you should know. I must +have been mad," and she convulsively clasped and unclasped her hands.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I understand why you dropped that bunch from the cliff," said +Charnock, "after Wilbraham had picked a flower from it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wanted to bring you here," said Miranda, "so that you might know +why I ask this service of you. As I told you, I have no love left for +Ralph, but he was that boy's father, and the boy is dead. I cannot +leave Ralph in Morocco a slave. He was Rupert's father. Perhaps you +remember that after I met you at Lady Donnisthorpe's I came back at +once to Ronda. I had half determined not to return at all, and when +you first told me Ralph was alive, my first absorbing thought was, +where should I hide myself? But it occurred to me that he might be in +need, and he was Rupert's father. So I came back, and when Wilbraham +blackmailed me, I submitted to the blackmail again because he was +Rupert's father; and because he was Rupert's father, when I learned in +what sore need he stood, I sent that glove to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I understand," said Charnock, and they turned and walked from the +cemetery.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now will you speak?" she asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," he returned, "but I will go myself to Morocco."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is your life I am asking you to risk," said Miranda, who now that +she had gained her end, began at once to realise the consequences it +would entail upon her friend.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know that and take the risk," replied Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">They walked out towards Europa Point, and turned into the Alameda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is something else," said Miranda. "Your search will cost money. +Every farthing of that I must pay. You will promise me that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wrote to M. Fournier yesterday. He will supply you. There is one +thing more. This search will interrupt your career."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It will, no doubt," he assented readily, and sitting down upon a seat +he spoke to her words which she never forgot. "The quaint thing is +that I have always been afraid lest a woman should break my career. I +lived as a boy high up on the Yorkshire hills, two miles above a busy +town. All day that town whirred in the hollow below. I could see it +from my bedroom window, and all night the lights blazed in the +factories; and when I went down into its streets there were always +grimed men speeding upon their business. There was a certain grandeur +about it which impressed me,--the perpetual shuffle of the looms, the +loud, clear song of the wheels. That seemed to me the life to live. +And I made up my mind that no woman should interfere. A brake on the +wheel going up hill, a whip in the driver's hand going down,--that +was what I thought of woman until I met you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And proved it true," cried Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And learned that there are better things than getting on," said +Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda turned to him with shining eyes, and in a voice which left him +in no doubt as to the significance of her words, she cried:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear, we are Love's derelicts, you and I," and so stopped and said +no more.</p> + +<p class="normal">They went back to the hotel and lunched together and came out again to +the geraniums and bellas sombras of the Alameda. But they talked no +more in this strain. They were just a man and a woman, and the flaming +sword kept their lips apart. But they knew it and were not aggrieved, +for being a man and a woman they knew not grievances.</p> + +<p class="normal">The evening came down upon Gibraltar, the riding lanterns glimmered +upon the masts in the bay; away to the left the lighthouse on Europa +Point shot out its yellow column of light; above, the Spanish sky grew +purple and rich with innumerable stars.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The boat leaves early," said Charnock. "I will say good-bye now."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda caught the hand which he held out to her and held it against +her breast.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I shall see you again--once--please, once," she said, "when you +bring Ralph back to me;" and so they separated in the Alameda.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock walked away and left her standing there, nor looked back. +Stray lines and verses of ballads which he had heard sung by women in +drawing-rooms here and there about the world came back to him--ballads +of knights and cavaliers who had ridden away at their ladies' behests. +He had laughed at them then, but they came back to him now, and he +felt himself linked through them in a community of feeling with the +generations which had gone before. Men had gone out upon such errands +as he was now privileged to do, and would do so again when he was +dust, with just the same pride which he felt as he walked homewards on +this night through the streets of Gibraltar. He realised as he had +never realised before, through the fellowship of service, that in bone +and muscle and blood he was of the family of men, son of the men who +had gone before, father of the men who were to follow. The next +morning he crossed the straits to Tangier.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_18" href="#div1Ref_18">IN WHICH THE TAXIDERMIST AND A BASHA +PREVAIL OVER A BLIND MAN</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">He went at once to the taxidermist's shop. M. Fournier expected him, +but not the story which he had to tell.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You wish to discover the man who shouted through your door six months +ago," said Charnock. "It was I."</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier got together his account-books and laid them on the +counter of the shop. "I have much money. Where is my friend Mr. Jeremy +Bentham?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is Hassan Akbar whom we must ask," said Charnock, and he told +Fournier of what he had seen on the day of his previous visit to +Tangier.</p> + +<p class="normal">The two men walked up to the cemetery gate, where Hassan still sat in +the dust, and swung his body to and fro and reiterated his cry "Allah +Ben!" as on that day when, clothed as a Moor, Ralph Warriner had come +down the hill. It was the tune which that Moor had hummed, and which +Miranda had repeated, that had led Charnock to identify the victim and +the enemy.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock hummed over that tune again as he stood beside the Moor, and +the Moor stopped at once from his prayer.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hassan Akbar, what hast them done with the Christian who hummed that +tune and dropped a silver dollar in thy lap at this gate?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan made no answer, and as though his sole anxiety had been lest +Warriner should have escaped and returned, he recommenced his cry.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hassan," continued Charnock, "was it that Christian who betrayed thy +wealth? Give him back to us and thou shalt be rich again."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Allah Beh!" cried Hassan. "Allah Beh!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is of no use for us to question him," said M. Fournier. "But the +Basha will ask him, and in time he will answer. To-morrow I will go to +the Basha."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock hardly gathered the purport of Fournier's proposal. He went +back into the town, and that evening M. Fournier related to him much +about Ralph Warriner which he did not know.</p> + +<p class="normal">The idea of running guns in Morocco had appealed to Warriner some time +before he put it into practice, and whilst he was still at Gibraltar.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I did not know him then," said Fournier. "He had relations with +others, very likely with Hassan Akbar, but nothing came of those +relations. When he ran from Gibraltar in the <i>Ten Brothers</i>, he landed +at Tangier, and lay hid somewhere in the town, while he sent the <i>Ten +Brothers</i> over to South America and ordered the mate to sell her for +as much as she would fetch. But in a little while Ralph Warriner met +me and asked me to be his partner in his scheme. He had a little money +then, and indeed it was just about the time when Hassan's fortune was +discovered. It is very likely that our friend told the Basha of +Hassan's wealth. If he knew, he would certainly have told," said M. +Fournier, with a lenient smile, "for there was money in it. Anyway, he +had some money then, I had some, I could get more, and I like him very +much. I say yes. He tells me of his ship. We want a ship to carry over +the guns. I telegraph to the Argentine and stop the sale. Warriner +sent orders to change her rig, as he call it, and her name, and she +comes back to us as the <i>Tarifa</i>. The only trouble left was this. The +most profitable guns to introduce are the Winchester rifles. But for +that purpose one of us must go between England and Tangier, must sail +the <i>Tarifa</i> between England and Tangier. I could not sail a toy-boat +in a pond without falling into the water. How then could I sail the +<i>Tarifa?</i> So Warriner must do it. But Warriner, my poor dear friend, +he has made little errors. He must not go to England, not even as +Bentham. To make it safe for Jeremy Bentham to go to England, Ralph +Warriner must be dead. You see?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, I see. But why in the world did he call himself Jeremy Bentham?" +asked Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Because he was such an economist. Oh, but he was very witty and +clever, my poor friend, when he was not swearing at you. At all events +he decided that Ralph Warriner must die, and that there must be proofs +that he was dead. So he packed up a few letters--one from his wife +before he was married to her--that was clever, <i>hein?</i> A love-letter +from his <i>fiancée</i> which he has carried about next to his heart for +six years! So sweet! So convincing to the great British public, eh? He +found that letter by chance among his charts. He gives it to me and +some others in an oilskin case, and sends me with one of his sailors +to the Scilly Islands. And then Providence helped us.</p> + +<p class="normal">"All that we hoped to do was to hear of a wreck, in which many lives +were lost, to go out amongst the rocks, where the ship was wrecked, +and to pick up that little oilskin case. You understand? Oh, but we +were helped. There was a heavy storm for many days at Scilly, and +after the storm for many days a fog. On one day the sailor and I--we +go out in the fog to the Western Islands, to see if any ship had come +ashore. But it was dangerous! I can tell you it was very dangerous and +very wet. However, we come to Rosevear, and there was the remnant of a +ship, and no sailor anywhere. We landed on Rosevear, and just as I was +about to place the oilskin case among the rocks where it would be +naturally found, we came upon one dead sailor, lying near to the sea +just as if asleep. I slipped the oilskin case into his pocket, and +then with stones we broke in his face. Ah, but that was horrible! It +made me sick then and there. But we did it, until there was no face +left. Then for fear the waves might come up and wash him away, we +dragged him up the rocks and laid him amongst the grass, again as +though he was asleep. We made a little mistake there. We dragged him +too far from the sea. But the mistake did not matter."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see," said Charnock. "And that day I shouted through the door +Warriner sailed for England?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," replied Fournier. "I hired that morning a felucca to sail +himself across to Tarifa."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I remember."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The boat lay at Tarifa. He set sail that night."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said Charnock. "I spent the night here. I waited two days for +the P. and O. at Gibraltar, we passed the <i>Tarifa</i> off Ushant, and +three days later I met Warriner in Plymouth. Yes, the times fit."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It is very likely Ralph who told about Hassan," mused M. Fournier, +with a lenient smile. "If he knew, he would have been sure to have +told; for there was money in it. To-morrow I will see the Basha."</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier went down to the Kasbah and found the Basha delivering +justice at the gates. The suitors were dismissed, and M. Fournier +opened his business.</p> + +<p class="normal">"We do not wish to trouble the Legation," said he. "The Legation would +make much noise, and his Shereefian Majesty, whom God preserve, would +never hear the end of it. Besides, we do not wish it." And upon that +money changed hands. "But if the Englishman told your nobility that +Hassan Akbar was hoarding his money in utter selfishness, then your +nobility will talk privately with Hassan and find out from him where +the Englishman is."</p> + +<p class="normal">The Basha stroked his white beard.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The Nazarene speaks wisely. We will not disturb the dignity of his +Majesty, whom Allah preserve, for such small things. I will talk to +Hassan Akbar and send for you again."</p> + +<p class="normal">That impenetrable man was fetched from the cemetery gates, and the +Basha addressed him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hassan, thou didst hide and conceal thy treasure, and truly the Room +told me of it; and since thy treasure was of no profit to thee, I took +it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"When I was blind and helpless," said Hassan.</p> + +<p class="normal">"So thou wast chastened the more thoroughly for thy profit in the next +world, and thy master and my master, the Sultan, was served in this," +said the Basha, with great dignity, and he reverently bowed his head +to the dust. "Now what hast thou done with the Room?"</p> + +<p class="normal">But Hassan answered never a word.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thou stubborn man! May Allah burn thy great-great-grandfather!" said +the Basha, and chained his hands and his feet, and had him conveyed to +an inner room, where he talked to him with rods of various length and +thickness. At the end of the third day the Basha sent a message to M. +Fournier that Hassan's heart was softened by the goodness of God, and +that now he would speak.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Basha received Charnock and M. Fournier in a great cool domed room +of lattice-work and tiles. He sat upon cushions on a dais at the end +of the room; stools were brought forward for his visitors; and M. +Fournier and the Basha exchanged lofty compliments, and drank much +weak sweet tea. Then the Basha raised his hand; a door was thrown +open; and a blind, wavering, broken man crawled, dragging his fetters, +across the floor.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Good God!" whispered Charnock; "what have they done to him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"They have made him speak, that is all," returned M. Fournier, +imperturbably. He kept all his pity for Ralph Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier translated afterwards to Charnock the story which Hassan +told as he grovelled on the ground, and it ran as follows:--</p> + +<p class="normal">"When the son of the English first came into Morocco I showed him +great kindness and hospitality, and how he returned it you know. So +after I was blind I waited. More than once I heard his voice in the +Sôk, and in the streets of Tangier, and I knew that he had quarrelled +with his own people the Nazarenes, and dared not turn to them for +help. I sit by the gate of the cemetery, and many Arabs, and Moors, +and Negroes, and Jews come down the road from the country to the +market-place, and at last one morning I heard the steps of one whose +feet shuffled in his <i>babouches</i>; he could not walk in the loose +slippers as we who are born to the use of them. And it was not an old +man, whose feet are clogged by age, for his stride was long; that my +ears told me which are my eyes. It was an infidel in the dress of the +faithful. It may be that if I had seen with my eyes, I should never +have known; but my ears are sharpened, and I heard. When he passed me +he gave me greeting, and then I knew it was the Room. He dropped a +dollar into my hands and whistled a tune which he had often whistled +after he had eaten of my <i>kouss-kouss</i>, and so went on his way. I rose +up and followed him, thinking that my time had come. Across the Sôk I +followed him, hearing always the shuffle of the slippers amidst the +din of voices and the hurrying of many feet. He did not see me, for he +never turned or stopped, but went straight on under the gate of the +town, and then turned through the horse-market, and came to a house +which he entered. I heard the door barred behind him, and a shutter +fixed across the window, and I sat down beneath the shutter and +waited. I heard voices talking quickly and earnestly within the room, +and then someone rose and came out of the door and walked down the +street towards the port. But it was not the man for whom I waited. +This one walked with little jaunty, tripping steps, and I was glad +that he went away; for the bolt of the door was not shut behind him, +and the dog of a Nazarene was alone. I rose and walked to the door. A +son of the English stood in the way: I asked him for alms with the one +hand and felt for the latch with the other; but the son of the English +saw what I was doing and shouted through the door."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was I," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hassan turned his sightless face towards Charnock and reflected. Then +he answered: "It was indeed you. And after you had spoken the bolt was +shot. Thereupon I went back to the Sôk, and asking here and there at +last fell in with some Arabs from Beni Hassan with whom in other days +I had traded. And for a long while I talked to them, showing that +there was no danger, for the Room was without friends amongst his own +people, and moreover that he would fetch a price, every okesa of which +was theirs. And at the last they agreed with me that I should deliver +him to them at night outside the walls of Tangier and they would take +him away and treat him ill, and sell him for a slave in their own +country. But the Room had gone from Tangier and the Arabs moved to +Tetuan and Omara and Sôk-et-Trun, but after a while they returned to +Tangier and the Room also returned; and the time I had waited for had +come."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What have you done with him?" said the Basha. "Speak."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I besought a lad who had been my servant to watch the Room Bentham, +and his goings and comings. With the dollar which he had given me I +bought a little old tent of palmetto and set it up in the corner of +the Sôk apart from the tents of the cobblers."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well?" interrupted M. Fournier, "speak quickly."</p> + +<p class="normal">"One evening the lad came to me and said the Room had gone up to a +house on the hill above the Sôk, where there were many lights and much +noise of feasting. So I went down the Sôk to where the Arabs slept by +their camels and said to them, 'It will be to-night.' And as God +willed it the night was dark. The lad led me to the house and I sat +outside it till the noise grew less and many went away. At last the +Nazarene Bentham came to the door and his mule was brought for him and +he mounted. I asked the boy who guided me, 'Is it he?' and the boy +answered 'Yes.' So I dismissed him and followed the mule down the hill +to the Sôk, which was very quiet. Then I ran after him and called, and +he stopped his mule till I came up with him. 'What is it?' he asked, +and I threw a cloth over his head and dragged him from the mule. We +both fell to the ground, but I had one arm about his neck pressing the +cloth to his mouth so that he could not cry out. I pressed him into +the mud of the Sôk and put my knee upon his chest and bound his arms +together. Then I carried him to my tent and took the cloth from his +head, for I wished to hear him speak and be sure that it was Bentham. +But he understood my wish and would not speak. So I took his +mule-hobbles which I had stolen while he feasted, and made them hot in +a fire and tied them about his ankles and in a little while I made him +cry out and I was sure. Then I stripped him of his clothes and put +upon him my own rags. The Arabs came to the tent an hour later. I +gagged Bentham and gave him up to them bound, and in the dark they +took him away, with the mule. His clothes I buried in the ground under +my tent, and in the morning stamped the ground down and took the tent +away."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And the chief of these Arabs? Give me his name," said the Basha.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Mallam Juzeed," replied Hassan.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Basha waved his hand to the soldiers and Hassan was dragged away.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will send a soldier with you, give you a letter to the Sheikh of +Beni Hassan, and he will discover the Room, if he is to be found in +those parts," said the Basha to M. Fournier.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock spent the greater part of a month in formalities. He took the +letter from the Basha and many other letters to Jews of importance in +the towns with which M. Fournier was able to provide him; he hired the +boy Hamet who had acted as his guide on his first visit, and getting +together an equipment as for a long journey in Morocco, rode out over +the Hill of the Two Seas into the inlands of that mysterious and +enchanted country.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_19" href="#div1Ref_19">TELLS OF CHARNOCK'S WANDERINGS IN MOROCCO +AND OF A WALNUT-WOOD DOOR</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">In the course of time Charnock came to a village of huts enclosed +within an impenetrable rampart of cactus upon the flank of the hills +southward of Mequinez and there met the Sheikh. The Sheikh laid his +hands upon Mallam Juzeed and bade him speak, which he did with a wise +promptitude. It was true; they had taken the Christian from Tangier, +but they had sold him on the way. They had chanced to arrive at the +great houseless and treeless plain of Seguedla, a day's march from +Alkasar, on a Wednesday; and since every Wednesday an open market is +held upon two or three low hills which jut out from the plain, they +had sold Ralph Warriner there to a travelling merchant of the Mtoga. +Mallam supplied the merchant's name and the direction of his journey. +Charnock packed his tents upon his mules and disappeared into the +south.</p> + +<p class="normal">For two years he disappeared, or almost disappeared; almost, since +through the freemasonry of the Jews, that great telephone across +Barbary by which the Jew at Tangier shall hear the words which the Jew +speaks at Tafilet, M. Fournier was able to obtain now and again rare +news of Charnock, and, as it were, a rare glimpse of him at Saforo, at +Marakesch, at Tarudant, and to supply him with money. Then came a long +interval, until a Jew of the Waddoon stopped Fournier in the Sôk of +Tangier, handed him a letter, and told him that many months ago, as he +rode at nightfall down a desolate pass of the Upper Atlas mountains, +he came to an inhospitable wilderness of stones, where one in Moorish +dress and speaking the Moorish tongue was watching the antics of a +snake-charmer by the light of a scanty fire of brushwood. The Moor had +two servants with him but no escort, and no tent, and for safety's +sake the Jew stayed with him that night. In the morning the Moor had +given him the letter to M. Fournier and had bidden him say that he was +well.</p> + +<p class="normal">In that letter Charnock told in detail the history of his search. How +he had held to his clue, how he had missed it and retraced his steps, +how he had followed the merchant to Figuig on the borders of Algeria, +and back; how he had gone south into the country of Sus and was now +returning northwards to Mequinez. He had discarded the escort, because +if a protection to himself, it was a warning to the Arabs with whom he +fell in. They grew wary and shut their lips, distrusting him, +distrusting his business; and since he could speak Arabic before, he +had picked up sufficient of the Moghrebbin dialect, what with his dark +face and Hamet to come to his aid, to pass muster as a native. M. +Fournier sent the letter on to Mrs. Warriner at Ronda, who read it and +re-read it and blamed her selfishness in sending any man upon such an +errand, and wondered why she of all women in the world should have +found a man ready to do her this service. Many a time as she looked +from her window over the valley she speculated what his thoughts were +as he camped in the night-air on the plains and among the passes. Did +his thoughts turn to Ronda? Did he see her there obtruding a figure of +a monstrous impertinence and vanity? For she had asked of him what no +woman had a right to ask.</p> + +<p class="normal">His frank confession of how he had defined women came back to her with +a pitiless conviction; "A brake on the wheel going up hill, a whip in +the driver's hand going down." It was true! It was true! She was the +instance which proved it true. There were unhappy months for Miranda +of the balcony.</p> + +<p class="normal">At times Jane Holt would be wakened from her sleep by a great cry, and +getting from her bed she would walk round the landing half-way up the +patio, to Miranda's bedroom, only to find it empty. She would descend +the staircase, and coming into the little parlour, would discover +Miranda leaning out of the open window and looking down to a certain +angle of the winding road.</p> + +<p class="normal">She had dreamed, she had seen in her dream Charnock with his two +servants encamped upon a hill-side or on a plain, and hooded figures +in long robes crawling, creeping, towards them, crouching behind +boulders, or writhing their bodies across fields of flowers. She saw +him too in the narrow, dim alleys of ruined towns, lured through a +doorway behind impenetrable walls, and then robbed for his money and +tortured for his creed.</p> + +<p class="normal">At such times the sight of that road whence he had looked upwards to +her window was a consolation, almost a confutation of her dreams. +There at that visible corner of the road, underneath these same stars +and the same purple sky, Charnock had sat and gazed at this window +from which she leaned. He could not be dead! And carried away by a +feverish revulsion, she would at times come to fancy that he had +returned, that he was even now seated on the bank by the roadside, +that but for the gloom she would surely distinguish him, that in spite +of the gloom she could faintly distinguish him. And so her cousin +would speak to her, and with some commonplace excuse that the night +was hot, Miranda would get her back to her room.</p> + +<p class="normal">These were terrible months for Miranda of the balcony. And the months +lengthened, and again no news came. Miranda began to wonder whether +she had only sent Charnock out to meet Ralph's disaster, to become a +slave beaten and whipped and shackled, and driven this way and that +through the barbarous inlands.</p> + +<p class="normal">The months were piled one upon the other. The weight of their burden +could be measured by the changes in Miranda's bearing. Her cheeks grew +thin, her manner feverish. The mere slamming of a door would fling the +blood into her face like scarlet; an unexpected entrance set her heart +racing till it stifled her.</p> + + +<p class="center" style="letter-spacing:20px">* * * * *</p> + + +<p class="normal">Meanwhile Charnock had long ceased to be troubled by the interruption +of his career. He moved now across wide prairies of iris and asphodel +under a blazing African sun, with perhaps a single palm tree standing +naked somewhere within view, or a cluster of dwarf olives; he halted +now for the night under a sinister sky on a dark plain, which +stretched to the horizon level as the sea; he would skirt a hill and +come unawares upon some white town of vast, gaunt, crumbling walls, +that ran out for no reason into the surrounding country, and for no +reason stopped. He passed beneath their ruined crenellations, under +the great gateways into the tortuous and dark streets where men +noiseless and sombre went their shrouded way. There were nights too +when he sat with a Mouser pistol in his hand, searching the darkness +until the dawn.</p> + +<p class="normal">The continent he had left behind seemed very far away; the echo of its +clamours diminished; the hurry of its conflicts became unreasonable +and strange. He was in a country where the moss upon the palace roofs +was itself of an immemorial antiquity; where neither the face of the +country nor the ways of those who lived on it had changed. He had +waited as he turned his back upon a town in the violet sunset, to see +the white flags break out upon the tops of the minarets, and the +Mueddins appear. He had waited for their cry, "Allah Akbar!" and for +the great plaintive moan of prayer which rose to answer it from the +terraces, the bazaars, from every corner of the town, and which +trembled away with infinite melancholy over infinite plains, "Allah +Akbar! Allah Akbar!"</p> + +<p class="normal">From those very minarets, during long successive centuries, a Mueddin +at just that hour had uttered just that cry; so that the Mueddin +became nothing, but the cry echoed down the years. And just that same +answer had risen and trembled out in just the same plaintive +mournfulness, so that those who prayed became of no account, and the +prayer repeated by the generations, the one thing which lived.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock used to halt upon his road, turn his face backwards to the +town, and picture to himself that from East to West the whole +continent of Africa was murmurous with that one prayer, that the +Atlantic carried away the sound of it upon its receding waves, and +that the Nile floated it down from village to village through the +Soudan. He ceased to wonder at the indifference, the passivity, the +fatalism, of these mysterious men amongst whom he lived; for he felt +something of that fatalism invading himself.</p> + +<p class="normal">He continued his search, northwards from the Atlas, escaping here a +band of robbers, there struggling in the whirl of a swollen stream, +listening at night to the cries of the jackals, and yielding to the +witchery of a monotonous Arab flute into which one servant blew a few +yards away, while Hamet, in a high strident voice, chanted a no less +monotonous song. He continued his search almost because "it was +written."</p> + +<p class="normal">Until on a dull afternoon he came to Mequinez, with its palaces of +dead kings, which rise up one behind the other, draped in golden +lichens, vast roofs stretching away into the distance, green and grey +with the whipping of rains, tower overtopping tower, crumbling +crenellations of wall, silent, oppressive. Each palace shut and barred +after its master was dead, and left so, to frown into decay and make a +habitation for the storks.</p> + +<p class="normal">To this city Charnock tracked the merchant, and taking up his abode in +the Mellah with a Jew to whom M. Fournier had recommended him, he +walked out through the streets beneath the walls of the palaces, +neither inquiring for the merchant nor scanning the faces of the +passers-by, but wrapped in his burnous, careless of any cry, +impenetrable, unobservant, until he came out of the darkness of a +bazaar, and saw, right before his eyes, a door.</p> + +<p class="normal">The door was set in a wall perhaps sixty feet high. Charnock could not +see the top for the narrowness of the street. Blank, and menacing in +the sinister light, the wall towered up before his eyes, and reached +out to the right and to the left. And at the foot of the wall was the +door--a door of walnut wood, studded with copper nails, and the nails +were intricately ordered in a geometrical figure, impossible for the +eye to unravel.</p> + +<p class="normal">That Charnock already knew; he had made trial before now to unravel +those geometrical figures, once, very long ago, and very far away in +the white sunlit street of a Spanish town. Charnock stood and stared +at the door, and the Spanish town loomed larger before his vision, +drew nearer, moved towards him, first slowly, then quickly, then in a +rush. Ronda! Ronda! The town, as it were, swept over him. He seemed to +wake; he seemed to stand again in the street. To his right was the +chasm of the Tajo, and the bridge, and the boiling torrent; behind +that door lived--and these two years slipped from him like a cloak. +With an unconscious movement of his hands he pushed the hood back from +his forehead, and stood bare-headed and alert. He was again one of the +hurrying, strenuous, curious folk who live beyond the Straits.</p> + +<p class="normal">He gazed at the door. Behind that door's fellow Miranda lived and +waited. Even as the thought burned through his mind, the door opened. +For a moment Charnock imagined that Miranda herself would step out; +but only a Moor came forth from an interview with the Basha, and a +ragged, decrepit greybeard of a servant attended on the Moor and made +his path. Charnock was in an instant aware of a grey light filtering +between the squalid roof-tops, of the filth of the streets, of the +tottering walls of Mulai Ismail. He was in Mequinez.</p> + +<p class="normal">And at Mequinez the long two years should end, and in ending bear +their fruit. That door, on which his eyes were set, augured as much, +nay promised it. "Not a sparrow shall fall...." Just for this reason, +centuries ago, a Moorish conqueror had taken these slabs of walnut +wood in Spain, and brought them back upon the shoulders of his slaves +and made his door from them and set it in his wall at Mequinez; just +that Charnock coming to this spot centuries afterwards might be +quickened in his service towards a woman, and gird himself about with +the memory of things which were growing dim, and be assured the +service should not fail! Charnock was uplifted to believe it.</p> + +<p class="normal">He drew the hood again about his head, and the voice of the Mueddin +called the world to prayer. Through the open doors of the mosques, +from the white walls glimmering in the dimness within those doors, +from the streets, from the houses, the high-pitched tremulous prayer +rose and declined in an arc of sound.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock felt his whole being throb exultantly. At Mequinez, yes, and +to-night, his search would end. Surely to-night! For the hour after +the evening prayer was the hour for the selling of slaves.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock walked to the market and sat himself down in the first +dim corner. He did not choose a place prominent and visible, +inviting whosoever had wares to sell; he took the first seat which +offered--certain that wherever he sat Ralph Warriner would be brought +to him. He sat down and looked about him.</p> + +<p class="normal">Some half a dozen men were grouped about the market talking; a young +negress from the Soudan, a white Moorish girl, a young negro from +Timbuctoo, were brought to them in turn. They examined their teeth, +their arms, their feet. The Moorish girl was bought; the others passed +on, each with the owner. They were followed by the Moor whom Charnock +had seen step from the Basha's door. He wished to sell his decrepit +greybeard, and was met with laughter wheresoever he turned. These were +all the slaves in the market.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock did not lose heart. At any moment within the next few minutes +the narrow entrance to the market might darken, and Ralph Warriner's +owner thrust Ralph Warriner in--at some moment that would happen.</p> + +<p class="normal">Did Warriner still shuffle in the Moorish slippers as he walked? +Charnock found himself asking the question with a curious +light-heartedness. The negress was offered to him, and then the negro; +he refused them with a gesture. He lent an ear to the rustling +whispering traffic of the streets outside. He listened patiently, +confidently, for the sound of a shuffling footstep to emerge, and grow +distinct and more distinct. The Moor brought his greybeard to +Charnock's corner. Charnock held his head aside and listened for the +loose slap-slap of the slipper upon the mud. The Moor spoke, was +importunate; Charnock waved him aside impatiently.</p> + +<p class="normal">But as he waved his arm he turned his head; and then he suddenly +reached out a hand, while his heart leaped in his throat. "Ten +dollars," he said. The Moor began to expatiate on the merits of his +slave; he was still strong; he could carry heavy loads, and for far +distances. Charnock was impatient to interrupt, to pay the price. When +he had turned his head, suddenly, for an instant, he had looked +straight into the greybeard's eyes--and they were the blue eyes which +had stared into his--once, how many centuries ago?--through the window +of a hansom cab in a noisy street of Plymouth. Charnock had no doubt. +Other Moors had blue eyes, and in no other feature of this wizened, +haggard creature but his eyes could he trace a resemblance to Ralph +Warriner; but he had no doubt. All the intuitions of the last +half-hour came to his aid. He remembered the door, the call to prayer. +This was Ralph Warriner, and he had almost let him pass! Had he not +turned by mere accident just at the one moment when the greybeard's +eyes were raised, he would have lost his chance now and forever. +Warriner would have perished in his servitude, would have dropped +somewhere on the plain under a load too heavy, and lain there until +nightfall brought the jackals.</p> + +<p class="normal">The thought took Charnock at the throat, left him struggling for his +breath. So near had he been to failing when he must not fail! He began +to fear at once that another purchaser might step in, while the Moor +was still exaggerating his goods. Yet he must not interrupt; he must +give no sign of anxiety lest he should awaken suspicion; he must +bargain with extreme indifference while a fever burnt in all his +blood.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thirty dollars," the Moor proposed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. The Moor turned +away; the slave followed the master. Charnock clenched his hands +together under the folds of his sleeves to prevent them reaching out +and clasping the man. The merchant walked slowly for a few yards. At +the entrance of the market there was a sudden obscurity; a tall man +blocked the way, entered, and stopped before the merchant and his +slave. Charnock's heart died within him; but the man only laughed and +passed on.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock felt all his muscles relax, as his suspense ended. For now +surely the slave would be brought back. The merchant turned slowly; +Warriner turned obediently behind him, and the obedience went to +Charnock's heart. It spoke of a discipline too hideous. Slowly the +owner returned to Charnock; it seemed that he would never speak.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Twenty-five dollars," he said.</p> + +<p class="normal">With an effort Charnock mastered his face and controlled his body. +"Twenty," he returned, and spoke of the slave's age, and how little +need he had of him. He heard the newcomer across the market haggling +over the negro from Timbuctoo. And at last,--at last the word was +spoken, the man he had come to search for was his, and his +inalienably, so long as he remained in any corner of Morocco.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock paid the money; he did not so much as glance again at his +slave. He rose from his seat. "Follow me," he said to Warriner in +Moghrebbin; and one behind the other, Miranda's lover and Miranda's +husband, master and slave, passed out of the market and down the +street towards the gate of Mequinez.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_20" href="#div1Ref_20">CHARNOCK, LIKE THE TAXIDERMIST, +FINDS WARRINER ANYTHING BUT A COMFORTABLE COMPANION</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">On the way Charnock stopped at the <i>fondak</i> where Hamet slept, and +bade the lad saddle the mules and bring them out of the town. Hamet +looked surprised, for nightfall was an ill time to start upon a +journey near the country of the Lemur tribes, but he was accustomed to +obey. Charnock's new slave did not even show surprise. Leaving Hamet +to follow him, Charnock passed through the gate. He dreaded to remain +in the town lest by some misfortune he might lose his slave; and, +besides, a nausea for its smells and its dirt began to gain upon him. +He walked down the slope of the hill to the olive trees and the mossy +turf. Lepers, of an unimaginable aspect, dragged by the side of the +beaten track and begged; robbers, who for their crimes had had their +eyes burnt out, kept pace with him, their eyelids closed upon red and +empty sockets; dead horses, mules, and camels were scattered by the +way, their carcases half devoured; everywhere were ruins, and things +decaying and things decayed; and over all was a sky of unbroken cloud, +and a chill lugubrious light.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock observed his surroundings with newly-opened eyes and hurried +on till he reached the olives. Then he stopped and turned to watch for +Hamet's coming. He turned a trifle suddenly and his slave +instinctively shrank away and stood submissive and mute, stilled by a +long companionship with despair. And this was a captain of Her +Majesty's Artillery, who had sailed his yacht in and out of Gibraltar +Bay!</p> + +<p class="normal">"My God, how you must have suffered!" cried Charnock, and he spoke in +the English tongue.</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner raised a dazed, half-witted face. "Say that again," he said +slowly, and he spoke in Arabic.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My God, how you must have suffered!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner listened with one forefinger uplifted; he moved his finger +backwards and forwards sawing the air. "Yes," he answered, and this +time in English; but his mouth was awkward and the English came +rustily from his tongue. "Yes, it has been a hell of a time."</p> + +<p class="normal">He spoke in a quite expressionless voice. But whether it was that the +forgotten sound of the tongue he used awoke in his dim mind faint +associations and a glimmer of memories, of a sudden he dropped upon +the turf amidst the olive trees and, burying his face in the moss, +sobbed violently like a child.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock let him lie there until he saw Hamet leading the mules down +the beaten way from the town-gates. Then he bent down and touched +Warriner on the shoulder. "Here is my servant--do you understand?--my +servant."</p> + +<p class="normal">The white man's pride answered the summons. Warriner got quickly to +his feet and drew a ragged sleeve across his face. Then he looked +round between the withered olives at that grey cruel ruin of a city +looming through the falling desolate light, and shivered. His eyes +lighted upon Hamet, and suddenly opened wide. "Those mules," he said +almost fiercely. "They are yours?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Let us ride! O dear God, let us ride!" And until Hamet reached them, +his head darted this way and that, while his eyes searched the trees. +"Mind, you bought me," he said. "I belong to you; to no one else. How +far from here to the sea?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nine days."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nine days," and he counted them over on his fingers.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hamet brought up the mules. Charnock unrolled a burnous and a turban. +Warriner plucked off his rags and put on the dress. Then the three men +rode out between the olive trees, past the outer rampart of breached +walls, into the open plain.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall we camp?" said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner cast a look across his shoulder. Mequinez was still visible, +a greyer blot upon the grey hillside. "No," said he.</p> + +<p class="normal">They rode forward over carpets of flowers, between the hills. The +light fell; the marigolds paled beneath their mules' feet; the +gentians became any flower of a light hue. At last a toothed savage +screen of rock moved across Mequinez.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here," said Warriner. He tumbled rather than dismounted from his +mule, stretched his limbs out upon the grass, and in a moment was +asleep. Hamet gathered a bundle of leaves from a dwarf palm tree and a +few sticks, lit a fire, and cooked their supper. Charnock woke +Warriner, who ate his meal and slept again; and all that night, with a +Mouser pistol in his hand, Charnock sat by his side and guarded him.</p> + +<p class="normal">The next morning they started betimes; they passed a caravan, farther +on a tent-village, and towards evening, from the shoulder of a hill +they looked down upon the vast plain of the Sebou. Level as a sea it +stretched away until the distinct colours of its flower-patches merged +into one soft blue.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Eight days," said Warriner; and that night, as last night, he asked +no questions of Charnock, but ate his supper and so slept; and that +night again Charnock sat by his side and guarded him.</p> + +<p class="normal">But the next morning Warriner for the first time began to evince some +curiosity as to his rescue and the man who had rescued him. The two +men had just bathed in a little stream which ran tinkling through the +grass beside their camp. Warriner was kneeling upon the bank of the +stream and contemplating himself in the clear mirror of its water, +when he said to Charnock: "How in the world did you know me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"By your eyes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"We are not strangers, eh?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I hailed you from a hansom cab once outside Lloyd's bank in Plymouth. +You expressed an amiable wish that I should sit in that cab and rot +away in my boots. Lucky for you I didn't!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You were the man who jammed his finger? I remember; I thought you had +got a warrant in your pocket. By the way," and he lifted his head +quickly, "you never, I suppose, came across a man called Wilbraham?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ambrose?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, yes; when did you come across him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He was blackmailing your wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, my wife," said Warriner, suddenly, as though it had only just +occurred to him that he had a wife. He turned his head and looked +curiously to Charnock, who was scrubbing himself dry some yards behind +him. "So you know my wife?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah!" Warriner again examined his face in the stream. "I think I might +walk straight up from the Ragged Staff," said he, wagging his grey +beard, "and shake hands with the Governor of Gibraltar and no one be a +penny the wiser." Then he paused. "So you know Wilbraham," he said +slowly, and paused again. "So you know my wife too;" and the pair went +to their breakfast.</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner walked in front of Charnock, and the latter could not but +notice how within these two days his companion had changed. His back +was losing its timid differential curve; there was less of a slink in +his walk; he no longer shrank when a loud word was addressed to him. +Moreover, his curiosity increased, and while they were at breakfast he +asked "How did you find me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">And that morning as they rode forwards over the marigolds and irises, +Charnock told him of his first visit to Tangier and of Hassan Akbar. +"So when I came again," he said with perhaps a little awkwardness and +after a pause, "I had a clue, a slight one, but still a clue, and I +followed it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was you who shouted through Fournier's shop-door, was it?" said +Warriner. "That's the second time a cry of yours has fairly scared me. +So you know Wilbraham," he added in a moment; "so you know my wife +too."</p> + +<p class="normal">They halted at noon under a hedge of cactus, and Charnock, tired with +his long vigils, covered his head and slept. Through the long +afternoon, over pink and violet flowers, under a burning sun, they +journeyed drowsily, with no conversation and no sound at all but the +humming of the insects in the air and the whistle of birds and the +brushing of their mules' feet through the grass. That evening they +crossed the Sebou and camped a few yards from the river's bank in a +most lucid air.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was after supper. Charnock was lying upon his back, his head +resting upon his arms, and his eyes upturned to the throbbing stars +and the rich violet sky. Warriner squatted cross-legged beside a dying +fire, and now and then, as a flame spirted up, he cast a curious +glance towards Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How long have you been searching?" he asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Two years," replied Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The question was shot at him, in a sharp challenging voice. Charnock +did not move from his position; he lay resting on that vast plain +under the fresh night sky and the kindly stars; but he was some little +while silent before he answered, "Your wife asked me to come."</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner nodded his head thoughtfully, but said no more. That night +Charnock did not keep watch, for they were across the Sebou and out of +the perilous country. The next morning they rode on towards Alkasar +with few words between them. Only Charnock noticed that Warriner was +continually glancing at him with a certain furtiveness, and it seemed +with a certain ill-will. Charnock grew restless under this +surveillance: he resented it; it made him vaguely uneasy.</p> + +<p class="normal">They rode with no shadows to console them until the afternoon brought +the clouds over the top of the Atlas. Towards evening they saw far +ahead of them the town of Alkasar amongst its gardens of orange trees +and olives.</p> + +<p class="normal">"We shall not reach it to-night," said Charnock, looking up at the +sky.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, thank God," answered Warriner, fervently. "No towns for me! What +if it does rain?"</p> + +<p class="normal">So again they camped in the open, under a solitary wild fig tree, and +the rain held off. They talked indifferently upon this subject and +that, speculated upon news of Europe, and Charnock heard something of +Warriner's comings and goings, his sufferings and adventures. But the +talk was forced, and though now and again Wilbraham's name, and now +and again Miranda's, recurred, it died altogether away.</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner broke it suddenly. "You are in love with my wife," he said.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock started up on his elbow. "What the devil has that got to do +with you?" he asked fiercely.</p> + +<p class="normal">The two men eyed one another across the leaping flames of the fire. +"Well, you have a right to put it that way, no doubt," said Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock sank down again. He felt resentment throbbing hot within him. +He was very glad that there were only five more days during which he +and Warriner must travel together alone, and during which he must keep +ward over the man he had rescued.</p> + +<p class="normal">But the next day was one of peace. The mere proximity of a Moorish +town had terrors for Warriner. His eyes turned ever towards it, scared +and frightened. His very body shrank and took on a servile air. +Besides, it rained.</p> + +<p class="normal">"We might sleep in Alkasar. There is a Jew I stayed with coming up; +you will be safe there," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I would sooner shiver to death here," replied Warriner, and they +skirted the town.</p> + +<p class="normal">But a little distance from the gates Charnock called a halt, and +taking Hamet and a mule he went up into the town. He sought out his +Jew, and bought a tent, which he packed upon the mule, and so returned +to where Warriner crouched and hid amongst the orange trees. Beyond +Alkasar they passed through a long stretch of stubble, whence acres of +wheat had been garnered, and at night the two men sat in the opening +of their tent, while the lad Hamet drew weird melancholy from his +pipe.</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner was silent; he was evidently turning over some thought in his +mind, and his mind, rusted by his servitude, worked very slowly. A man +of great vindictiveness and jealousy, he was not grateful for his +rescue; but he was brooding over the motives which had induced +Charnock to come in search of him, and which had persuaded Miranda to +send him in search. Warriner had never cared for his wife, but his +wife had never till now given him any cause for jealousy, and out of +his present jealousy there sprang and grew in his half-crazy and +disordered mind a quite fictitious passion.</p> + +<p class="normal">He revealed something of it the next morning to Charnock. For after he +had waked up and yawned, after he had watched for a moment the busy +shadow of Hamet upon the tent-wall and heard the light crackle of the +breakfast fire, he roused Charnock with a shake of the shoulder and +resumed the conversation at the point where it had been broken off +when they sat by the camp-fire.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But I'll tell you a question which has to do with me, Charnock," he +said. "Is my wife in love with you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You damned blackguard!" cried Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thanks!" said Warriner, with a chuckle. "That's answer enough."</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's no answer at all!" exclaimed Charnock, hotly, and he sat up +amongst his blankets and took refuge in subterfuges. "If what you say +were true, is it likely that your wife would have asked me to find you +out and bring you back?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's the very point I have been considering," returned Warriner; +"and I think it uncommon likely. Women have all sorts of underground +scruples which it's difficult for a man to get upside with, and I can +imagine a woman would send off her fancy man on this particular +business as a kind of set-off and compensation. See?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock dared not trust himself to answer. He got up and walked to +the door of the tent, unfastened the flap, and let the sunlight in.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Funny thing!" continued Warriner, "I never took much account of my +wife. She was a bit too stately for me. It was just as though someone +played symphonies to you all day when you hankered after music of the +music-hall type. But somehow,--I suppose it's seeing you doing the +heroic and all for her, don't you know?--somehow I am getting very +fond of her."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock seemed to have heard not a single word. He stood at the door +of the tent, looking indifferently this way and that. His silence +spurred Warriner to continue. "I tell you what, Charnock," he said, +"you had better run straight with me. You'll find out your mistake if +you don't. I'll tell you something more: you had better let me find +when I get back to Ronda that you have run straight with me." He saw +Charnock suddenly look round the angle of the tent and then shade his +eyes with his hand. It seemed impossible to provoke him in any way. +"Mind, I don't say that I shall take it much to heart, if the affair +has stopped where you say it has." Charnock had said not a word about +the matter, as Warriner was well aware. "No," he continued, "on the +contrary; for no harm's actually done, you say, and my wife steps down +from her pedestal on to my level. Understand, sonny?--What are you up +to? Here, I say."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock had stridden back into the tent. He stooped over Warriner and +roughly plucked him up from the ground. "Stand up, will you!" he +cried.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here, I say," protested Warriner, rather feebly; "you might be +speaking to a dog."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I wish I was."</p> + +<p class="normal">At that Warriner turned. The two men's faces were convulsed with +passion; hatred looked out from Warriner's eyes and saw its image in +Charnock's.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Get out of the tent," said Charnock, and taking Warriner by the +shoulder, he threw rather than pushed him out.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Now, what's that?" and he pointed an arm towards the east.</p> + +<p class="normal">"That's a caravan."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Quite so, a caravan. Perhaps you have forgotten what you said to me +outside the walls of Mequinez. You belong to me, you remember. You're +mine; I bought you, and I can sell you if I choose."</p> + +<p class="normal">"By God, you wouldn't do that!" cried Warriner. His years of slavery +rushed back on him. He saw himself again tramping, under the sun, with +a load upon his back through the sand towards Algiers, over the hills +to the Sus country; he heard again the whistle of a stick through the +air, heard its thud as it fell upon his body, and felt the blow. "My +God, you couldn't do that!" And seeing Charnock towering above him, +his face hard, his eyes gloomy, he clung to his arm. "Charnock, old +man! You wouldn't, would you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You'll fetch half a dozen copper <i>flouss</i>" said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Look here, Charnock, I apologise. See, old man, see? I am sorry; you +hear that, don't you? Yes, I'm sorry. It's my cursed tongue."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock shook him off. "We left your rags behind, I believe, so you +can keep those clothes. The caravan will pass us in an hour." Then +Warriner fell to prayers, and flamed up in anger and curses and died +down again to whimpering. All the while Charnock stood over him silent +and contemptuous. There was no doubt possible he meant to carry out +his threat. Warriner burst out in a flood of imprecations, and Moorish +imprecations, for they came most readily to his tongue. He called on +God to burn Charnock's great-grandmother, and then in an instant he +became very cunning and calm.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And what sort of a face will you show to Miranda," he said smoothly, +"when you get back to Ronda? You have forgotten that."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock had forgotten it; in his sudden access of passion he had +clean forgotten it. Warriner wiped the sweat from his face; he did not +need to look at Charnock to be assured that at this moment he was the +master. He stuck his legs apart and rested his hands upon his hips. +"You weren't quite playing the game, eh, Charnock?" he said easily. +"Do you think you were quite playing the game?"</p> + +<p class="normal">From that moment Warriner was master, and he was not inclined to leave +Charnock ignorant upon that point. Jealousy burnt within him. His mind +was unstable. A quite fictitious passion for his wife, for whom he had +never cared, and of whom he certainly would very quickly tire, was +kindled by his jealousy; and he left no word unspoken which could +possibly wound his deliverer. Charnock bitterly realised the false +position into which he had allowed passion to lead him; and for the +future he held his peace.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Only one more day," he said with relief, as they saw the hills behind +Tangier.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And what then, Charnock?" said Warriner. "What then?"</p> + +<p class="normal">What then, indeed? Charnock debated that question during the long +night, the last night he was to spend under canvas in company with +Ralph Warriner. Sometime to-morrow they would see the minarets of +Tangier--to-morrow evening they would ride down across the Sôk and +sleep within the town. What then? Passion was raw in these two men. It +was a clear night; an African moon sailed the sky, and the interior of +the tent was bright. Warriner lay motionless, a foot or two away, +wrapped in his dark coverings, and Charnock was conscious of a fierce +thrill of joy when he remembered Miranda's confession that she had no +love left for her husband. He did not attempt to repress it; he hugged +the recollection to his heart. All at once Warriner began softly to +whistle a tune; it was the tune which he had whistled that morning at +the gates of Tangier cemetery, it was the tune which Miranda had +hummed over absently in the little parlour at Ronda, and which had +given Charnock the clue--and because of the clue Warriner was again +whistling the tune in the same tent with himself--a day's march from +Tangier.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock began hotly to regret that he had ever heard it, that he had +charged Hamet to repeat it, and that so he had fixed it in his mind. +He kicked over on his rugs, and he heard Warriner speak.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You are awake, are you? I say, Charnock," he asked smoothly, "did +Miranda show you the graveyard in Gib? That was my youngster, +understand?--mine and Miranda's."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock clenched his teeth, clenched his hand, and straightened his +muscles out through all his body, that he might give no sign of what +he felt.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Bone of my bone," continued Warriner, in a silky, drawling voice, +"flesh of my flesh,--and Miranda's." Perhaps some deep breath drawn +with a hiss through the teeth assured Warriner that his speech was not +spoken in vain; for he laughed softly and hatefully to himself.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock lay quite still, but every vein in his body was throbbing. He +had one thought only to relieve him. Warriner had said the last +uttermost word of provocation; he had fashioned it out of the dust of +his child, when but for that child he would still be a slave; and out +of the wifehood of Miranda, when but for Miranda Charnock would never +have come in search of him. <i>Rupert Warriner, aged two</i>. The +gravestone, the boy looking out between the lattices, was very visible +to Charnock at that moment. He was in the mind to give Warriner an +account of how and why he was brought to see it; but he held his +peace, sure that whatever gibes or stings Warriner might dispense in +the future, they would be trifling and inconsiderable compared with +this monumental provocation.</p> + +<p class="normal">He was wrong; Warriner's malice had yet another resource. Seeing that +Charnock neither answered him nor moved, he got up from his couch. +Charnock saw him rummaging amongst the baggage, hopping about the +tent in the pale moonlight; the shadow of his beard wagged upon the +tent-wall, and all the while he chuckled and whispered to himself. +Charnock watched his fantastic movements and took them together with +the man's fantastic words, and it occurred to him then for the first +time to ask whether Warriner's mind had suffered with his body. He had +come to this point of his reflections when Warriner, stooping over a +bundle, found whatever it was for which he searched. Charnock heard a +light snick, like the cocking of a pistol, only not so loud. Then +Warriner hopped back to Charnock's side, knelt down and thrust +something into the palm of Charnock's hand. Charnock's fingers closed +on it instinctively and gripped it hard; for this something was the +handle of a knife and the blade was open.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There!" said Warriner. "You have to protect me. This is the last +night, so I give you the knife to protect me with."</p> + +<p class="normal">He hopped back to his rugs, twittering with pleasure; and turning his +face once more towards Charnock, while Charnock lay with the open +knife in his hand, he resumed, "My boy, Charnock--mine and +Miranda's--mine and Miranda's."</p> + +<p class="normal">The next evening they rode over the cobblestones of Tangier and halted +at M. Fournier's shop.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_21" href="#div1Ref_21">COMPLETES THE JOURNEYINGS OF THIS +INCONGRUOUS COUPLE</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier received the wanderers with an exuberant welcome. He fell +upon Warriner's neck, patted him, and wept over him for joy at his +return and for grief at his aged and altered looks. Then he grasped +Charnock with both hands. "The deliverer," he cried, "the friend so +noble!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said Warriner, pleasantly; "<i>ce bon</i> Charnock, he loves my +wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">Within half-an-hour the two travellers were shaved and clothed in +European dress.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Would anyone know me?" asked Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My poor friend, I am afraid not," answered Fournier, and Warriner +seemed very well pleased with the answer.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then we will go and dine, really and properly dine, at a hotel on +champagne wine," said he.</p> + +<p class="normal">They dined at a window which looked out across the Straits, and all +through that dinner Warriner's face darkened and darkened and his gaze +was sombrely fixed towards Gibraltar.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What are your plans?" asked Fournier.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The first thing I propose to do is to walk up to the cemetery and +astonish my friend Hassan Akbar."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You will not find him. The Basha thought it wise to keep him safe in +prison until you were found."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He has been there two years then?" said Warriner. "He had no friends. +Then he is dead?" For the Moorish authorities do not feed the +prisoners in the Kasbah.</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier blushed. "No, he is not dead. He would have starved, +but,--you will forgive it, my friend? After all he had no great reason +to like you,--I sent him food myself every day,--not very much, but +enough," stammered M. Fournier, anxiously.</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner waved his hand. "It is a small thing; yes, I forgive you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"And he may go free?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why not? He will not catch me again."</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier's face brightened with admiration.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ah, but you are great, truly great," he exclaimed; "my friend, you +are <i>magnanime!</i> Now tell me what you will do."</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier's magnanimous friend replied. "The boat crosses to +Algeciras to-morrow. I shall go up to Ronda. And you?" he asked, +turning to Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I shall go with you," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"<i>Ce bon</i> Charnock," said Warriner, with a smile. "He loves my wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But afterwards?" Fournier hurried to interpose. "Will you stay at +Ronda?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No."</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner's eyes strained out across the water to where the topmost +ridge of Gibraltar rose against the evening sky. Since his rescue two +thoughts had divided and made a conflict in his mind; one was his +jealousy of Charnock, his unreal hot-house affection for Miranda; the +other had been represented by his vague questions and statements about +Wilbraham. He was now to speak more clearly, for as he looked over to +the Rock, Wilbraham was uppermost in his mind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You did not know Wilbraham," he resumed. "Charnock did, <i>ce bon</i> +Charnock. I have a little account to settle with Wilbraham, a little +account of some standing, and now there's a new item to the bill. The +scullion! Imagine it, Fournier. He blackmailed my wife; blackmailed +Miranda! Do you understand?" he cried feverishly. "Miranda! You know +her, Charnock. Fournier, how often have I spoken of her to you? +Miranda!" And words failed him, so inconceivable was the thought that +any man should bring himself to do any wrong to his Miranda.</p> + +<p class="normal">M. Fournier stared. As he had once told Mrs. Warriner, Ralph had +spoken to him of Miranda; but it had not been with the startling +enthusiasm which at present he evinced.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I shall settle my accounts with Wilbraham first," continued Warriner, +"after I have seen Miranda. Did you know it was Wilbraham who sold the +plans of the Daventry gun?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Was it?" exclaimed Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was," and the three men drew their chairs closer together. +"Wilbraham was a moneylender's tout at Gib. I had borrowed money and +renewed; I borrowed again, and again renewed. You see," he argued in +excuse, "I would not touch a penny of my wife's estate; that of course +was sacred. It was Miranda's--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"And settled upon Miranda," Charnock could not refrain from +interposing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you call my wife by her christian name, else you and I will +quarrel," exclaimed Warriner, banging his fist violently upon the +table, and M. Fournier anxiously signed to Charnock to be silent.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It was a slip," said Fournier, and soothingly he patted Warriner on +the shoulder. "Here! have one or two fine champagne, eh? Now go on; we +are all of us good friends. You borrowed twice from Wilbraham and did +not pay; you would not, of course. Well?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I tried to borrow a third time," continued Warriner; "but Wilbraham +refused unless I could offer him good security. He himself suggested +the plans of the Daventry gun. He swore most solemnly that he would +not use them; he would keep them as a security for three weeks, and I +wanted his money. I had debts to pay, debts to my brother officers, +and I agreed. He lent me the money; I gave him the plans, and he went +off to Paris and sold them. I received a hint one afternoon that the +mechanism of the gun was known, and I ran out of Gibraltar that +evening. So, you see, I have an account with him; and it grows and +grows and grows upon me each time that I see that." He pointed a +shaking finger to where the sharp ridge of Gibraltar cut the evening +sky. "Now that I can go where I will and no one will know me, I will +get the account paid, and cut a receipt in full with a knife right +across Wilbraham's face."</p> + +<p class="normal">His voice rose and quavered with a feverish excitement, his eyes shone +and glittered; it seemed to Charnock there was madness in them. M. +Fournier's eyes met his and they exchanged glances, so M. Fournier, +who was engaged in assiduously soothing Warriner, shared the +conjecture. Indeed, as M. Fournier took his leave, he said privately +to Charnock: "My poor friend! what will be the end of it for him? His +wife does not like him and he will follow this Wilbraham, and he is +not himself."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was lighting his candle at the hall-table.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said he, slowly. "There is his wife, there is Wilbraham, there +is himself; what is to be the end of it all?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He went up the stairs to his room. His room communicated with +Warriner's, and taking the key from the door, he left the door +unlocked. More than once as he tossed upon his bed vainly reiterating +the question, what was to be the end, he heard the latch of the door +click, he saw the door open slowly, he saw a head come cautiously +through the opening; and then, as he lay still, Warriner came hopping +across the room to his bed. Warriner came to assure himself that +Charnock had not stolen a march upon him during the night; he was +possessed by a crazy fear lest Charnock should see Miranda before +himself.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the following afternoon they crossed together to Algeciras, through +a rough sea in a strong wind.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's the Levanter," said Warriner; "there'll be three days of it." He +looked earnestly at Gibraltar as the boat turned into the bay. +"Wilbraham, Wilbraham," he muttered in a voice of anticipation. Then +he turned to Charnock. "Mind, we go up to Ronda together! We shall +have to stay the night at Algeciras. Mind, you are not to charter a +special and go up ahead while I am asleep."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock was sorely tempted to secure an engine, as he could have +done, but Miranda had asked to see him "once when he brought Ralph +back," and so the next morning they travelled together.</p> + +<p class="normal">At noon Charnock saw again the walnut door encrusted with the copper +nails, and Warriner was already hammering upon it with his stick. The +moment it was opened he rushed through without a word, thrusting the +servant aside.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock followed him, but though he followed he had the advantage, +for while Warriner gazed about the patio into which for the first time +he entered, Charnock ran across to the little room in which Miranda +was wont to sit. He opened the door.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Empty," said Warriner, from behind his shoulder, and he pushed past +Charnock into the room. From the balcony above them Jane Holt spoke. +She spoke to Charnock as she ran down the stair.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's you at last! Miranda is at Gibraltar. She expected to hear of +you, and thought she would hear more quickly there. She has been ill, +besides; she needed doctors."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ill?" exclaimed Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who is that?" asked Miss Holt, glancing across Charnock's shoulder.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ralph."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ralph!" cried out Miss Holt. "But he's--"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hush!"</p> + +<p class="normal">They followed Warriner into the room, and Charnock closed the door.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Didn't you know?" he asked. "I went to find him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," she replied, utterly bewildered. "It seems strange; but Miranda +is very secret. A little unkind, perhaps," and then her voice went up +almost in a scream as Warriner turned towards her. "Ralph! Is that +Ralph?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, yes, it's Ralph," said Warriner, and all the time he spoke, he +trotted and hopped and danced about the room. "Ralph Warriner, to be +sure; a little bit aged, eh, Jane Holt? Little bit musty? Been lyin' +too long in the churchyard at Scilly--bound to alter your looks +that,--what?" He skipped over to the writing table and began with a +seeming aimlessness to pull out the drawers. "Where's Miranda? Does +she know her lovin' husband's here? Why don't she come? Tell me that, +Jane Holt!" He made a quick, and to Charnock an unintelligible, +movement at the writing table, shut up a drawer with a bang, and the +next moment he had a hand tight upon Jane Holt's wrist. "Where's +Miranda? Quick!" and he shook her arm fiercely, but with a sly look +towards Charnock; his other hand he thrust into his pocket. Charnock +just got a glimpse of a sheet of paper clenched in the fist. Warriner +withdrew his hand from his pocket empty. He had stolen something from +the writing drawer. But what it was Charnock could not guess, nor did +he think it wise, in view of Warriner's excitement, to ask.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Miranda's at Gibraltar," said Miss Holt, quite alarmed by the man's +extravagance. "I told you, she is ill."</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner waited to hear no more. He dropped her arm. "At Gibraltar," +he said, and ran out of the room across the patio. Charnock followed +him immediately. "He must not go alone," he cried over his shoulder to +Miss Holt, but the excuse was only half of his motive. Passion, +resentment, jealousy,--these too ordered him and he obeyed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock came up with Warriner at the railway station. The train did +not leave Ronda until three, as Charnock might have known and so +behaved with dignity before Miss Holt; but he was beyond the power of +argument or reflection. He hurried after Warriner and caught him up, +and during the two hours of waiting, the two men kept watch and ward +upon each other. Together they walked to the hotel, they lunched at +the same table, they returned side by side to the station, and seated +themselves side by side in the same carriage of the train. The train +which takes four hours to climb to Ronda runs down that long slope of +a hundred miles in two hours. Charnock and Warriner took their seats +in a <i>coupé</i> at the end of the last carriage; they rushed suddenly +into the dark straight tunnels, and saw the mouths by which they had +entered as round O's of light which contracted and contracted until a +mere pin's-point of sunshine was visible far away, and then suddenly +they were out again in the daylight.</p> + +<p class="normal">There were certain landmarks with which Charnock was familiar,--a +precipitous gorge upon the right, an underground river which flooded +out from a hillside upon the left, a white town far away upon a green +slope like a flock of sheep herded together, and finally the glades of +the cork forest with the gleam of its stripped tree-trunks. The train +drew up at Algeciras a few minutes after five.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock and Warriner were met with the statement that the Levanter +of yesterday had increased in force, and by the order of the +harbour-master the port of Algeciras was closed. It was impossible to +make the passage to Gibraltar--and Miranda was ill. She had needed +doctors, Jane Holt had said. Charnock's fears exaggerated the malady; +she might be dying; she might die while he and Warriner waited at +Algeciras for the sea to subside. "We must reach Gibraltar to-night," +he cried.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And before gunfire," added Warriner. "But how?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock went straight to the office of the manager of the line. The +manager greeted him with warmth. "But, man, where have you been these +two years?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There's a station at San Roque half-way round the bay," said +Charnock. "I must get into Gibraltar to-night. If I can have a special +to San Roque, I might drive the last nine miles."</p> + +<p class="normal">Gibraltar is before everything a fortress, and the gates of that +fortress are closed for the night at gunfire, and opened again for the +day at gunfire in the morning.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You will never do it," said the manager. "The gun goes off at seven."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's the month?" cried Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">"July," answered the manager, in surprise.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And the day of July?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The fifth."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Good," cried Warriner. "You are wrong; on the fifth of July the gun +goes off at eight--from the fifth of July to the thirty-first of +August."</p> + +<p class="normal">The manager uncoupled one carriage and the engine, coupled them +together and switched them on to the up-line. Meanwhile Charnock +telegraphed to the station-master at San Roque, to have a carriage in +readiness; but time was occupied, and it was six o'clock before the +engine steamed into San Roque.</p> + +<p class="normal">San Roque is a wayside station; the village lies a mile away, hidden +behind a hill. Charnock and Warriner alighted amongst fields and +thickets of trees, but nowhere was there a house visible, and worst of +all, there was no carriage in the lane outside the station. The +station-master had ordered one, and no doubt one would arrive. He +counselled patience.</p> + +<p class="normal">For half-an-hour the incongruous companions, united by a common +passion and a mutual hate, kicked their heels upon the lonely platform +of San Roque. Then at last a crazy, battered, creaking diligence, +drawn by six broken-kneed, sore-backed mules, cantered up to the +station with a driver and a boy upon the box, whooping exhortations to +the mules with the full power of their lungs.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock and Warriner sprang up into the hooded seat behind the box, +the driver turned his mules, and the diligence went off at a canter, +along an unmade track across the fields.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was now close upon a quarter to seven, and nine miles lay between +San Roque and the gates of Gibraltar. Moreover, there was no road for +the first part of the journey, merely this unmade track across the +fields. The two men urged on the driver with open-handed promises; the +driver screamed and shouted at his mules: "Hi! mules, here's a bull +after you!" He counterfeited the barking of dogs; but the mules were +accustomed to his threats and exhortations; they knew there were no +dogs at their heels, and they kept to their regular canter.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock longed for the fields to end and for the road to begin; and +when the road did begin, he longed again for the fields. The road +consisted of long lines of ruts, ruts which were almost trenches, ruts +which had been baked hard by the summer suns. The mules stumbled +amongst them, the diligence tossed and pitched and rolled like a boat +in a heavy sea; Charnock and Warriner clung to their seats, while the +driver continually looked round to see whether a wheel had slipped off +from its axle. At times the boy would jump down from the box, and +running forward with the whip in his hand, would beat the mules with +the butt-end; the lash had long ceased to influence their movements.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The road's infernal," cried Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It will be when we get to the sea," replied the driver, and Charnock +groaned in his distress. There was worse to come, and Miranda was ill.</p> + +<p class="normal">The diligence lurched between two clumps of juniper trees, swung round +a wall, and instantly the wheels sank into soft sand. The huge, sheer +landward face of Gibraltar Rock towered up before them as they looked +across the mile of neutral ground, that flat neck of land between the +Mediterranean and the Bay. They saw the Spanish frontier town of +Linea; but to Linea the sand stretched in a broad golden curve, soft +and dry, and through that curve of sand the wheels of the diligence +had to plough. The mules were beaten onwards, but the Levanter blew +dead in their teeth. The driver turned the diligence towards the sea, +and drove with the water splashing over the wheels; there the sand +bound, and the pace was faster.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was still, however, too slow; Gibraltar seemed still as far away. +The travellers paid the driver, leaped from their seats, and ran over +the soft clogging sand to Linea. They reached Linea. They passed the +sentinel and the iron gates, they stood upon the neutral ground. They +had but one more mile to traverse.</p> + +<p class="normal">A cab stood without the iron gates. They jumped into it and drove at a +gallop across the level; but the gun was fired from the Rock, while +they were still half-a-mile from the gate, and the cabman brought his +horses to a standstill.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What now?" said Warriner.</p> + +<p class="normal">"We might get in," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The keys are taken to the Governor. There would be trouble; there +always is. I know there would be questions asked; it would not be +safe. I might slip in when the gates are open, but now it would not be +safe. And mind, Charnock, when you go in I go in too."</p> + +<p class="normal">There was no doubt that Warriner meant what he said, every word of it. +For Miranda's sake Charnock could not risk Warriner's detection. They +must remain outside Gibraltar for that night, even though during the +night Miranda should die.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Can we sleep at Linea?" said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, Linea is a collection of workmen's houses and workmen's +pot-houses." The two men made their supper at one of these latter, and +for the rest of the night paced the neutral ground before Gibraltar.</p> + +<p class="normal">A scud of clouds darkened the sky, and one pile of cloud, darker than +the rest, lowered stationary upon the summit of the Rock. All night +the Levanter blew pitilessly cold across that unprotected neck of land +between sea and sea. With their numbed hands in their pockets, and +their coats buttoned to the throat, Charnock and Warriner, accustomed +to the blaze of a Morocco sun, waited from nightfall until midnight, +and from midnight through the biting, dreary hours till dawn.</p> + +<p class="normal">The gates were opened at three o'clock in the morning. Together the +two men went through; they had still hours to wait before they could +return to the hotel. They breakfasted together, and they let the time +go by, for now that they were within reach of, almost within sight of, +Miranda Warriner, they both began to hesitate. What was to be the end? +They looked at one another across the table with that question +speaking from their eyes. They walked down to the hotel and faced each +other at the door, and the question was still repeated and still +unanswered. They turned away together and strolled a few yards, and +turned and came back again. This time Charnock entered the hotel. "Is +Mrs. Warriner in?" he asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">The waiter replied, "Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock drew a long breath. Surely if much had been amiss with her +the waiter would have told them; but he said nothing, he merely led +the way upstairs.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_22" href="#div1Ref_22">IN WHICH CHARNOCK ASTONISHES RALPH +WARRINER</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">The waiter threw open the door, the two men entered, and Warriner shut +the door. Miranda rose from a chair and stood looking from Charnock to +Warriner and back again from Warriner to Charnock; and as yet no word +was spoken by anyone of them. Charnock had time to note, and grieve +for, the pallor of her face and the purple hollows about her eyes. +Then she moved forward for a step or two quite steadily; she murmured +a name and the name was not Ralph; and then suddenly, without any +warning, she fell to the ground between Charnock and her husband, and +lay still and lifeless.</p> + +<p class="normal">"My God, she's dead!" whispered Warriner. "We should have sent word of +our coming. We have killed her," and then he stopped. For Charnock was +standing by the side of Miranda and talking down to her as she lay, in +a low, soft, chiding voice.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Come," he was saying, "it's what you wished. You will be glad when +you have time to think over it and understand. There is no reason why +you should--"</p> + +<p class="normal">This intimate talking with the lifeless woman came upon Warriner as +something horrible. "Man, can't you see?" he whispered hoarsely. +"She's dead, Miranda is. We have killed her, you and I."</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock slowly turned his head towards Warriner and looked at him +steadily with his eyebrows drawn down over his eyes. Somehow Warriner +was frightened by that glance; he felt a chill creep down his spine; +he was more frightened than even on that morning when Charnock +threatened to sell him outside Alkasar. "She's dead, I tell you," he +babbled, and so was silent.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock looked back to Miranda, sank upon one knee by her side, and +bending his head down began to whisper to her exhortations, gentle +reproaches at her lack of courage, and between his words he smiled at +her as at a wayward child.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There is no reason to fear," the uncanny talk went on; "and it hurts +us! You don't know how much. You might as well speak, not be like +this--pretending." He reached over her and took her hand, cherished it +in his own, and entwined his fingers with her fingers and then +laughed, as though her fingers had responded to his own. "You are +rather cruel, you know."</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner moved uneasily. "Charnock, I tell you Miranda's--"</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock flung his other arm across her body and crouched over it, +glaring at Warriner like a beast about to spring.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And I tell you she's not, she's not, she's not!" he hissed out. +"Dead!" and suddenly he lifted up Miranda's head, held it in the +hollow of his arm and kissed the face upon the forehead and the lips. +"Dead?" and he broke out into a laugh. "Is she? I'll show you. Come! +Come!" He forced his disengaged arm underneath her waist, and putting +all his strength into the swing lifted himself on to his feet, and +lifted Miranda with him. "Now don't you see?" Warriner was standing, +his mouth open, his eyes contracted; there was more than horror +expressed in them, there was terror besides.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't you see?" cried Charnock, in a wild triumph. "Perhaps you are +blind. Are you blind, Ralph Warriner?"</p> + +<p class="normal">He held Miranda supported against his shoulder, and swung her up and +tried to set her dangling feet firm-planted on the ground; but her +limbs gave, her head rolled upon his shoulder. He hitched her up +again, her head fell back exposing the white column of her throat. The +heavy masses of her hair broke from their fastenings, unrolled about +her shoulders, and tumbled about his. He tried again to set her on her +feet, and her head fell forward upon his breast, and her hair swept +across his lips. "There, man," he cried, "she can stand.... Can a dead +woman stand? Tell me that!" He held her so that she had the posture, +the semblance, of one who stands, though all her weight was upon his +arm. His laughter rose without any gradation to the pitch of a scream, +sank without gradation to a hoarse cry. "Why, she can walk! Can a dead +woman walk? See! See!" And suddenly he dropped his arm from her waist, +and stood aside from her, holding her hand in his. Instantly her +figure curved and broke. She swung round towards him upon the pivot of +his hand, and as she swung she stumbled and fell. Charnock caught her +before she reached the ground, lifted her up, strained her to his +breast, and held her so. One deep sob broke from him, shook him, and +left him trembling. He carried Miranda to a couch, and there gently +laid her down. Gently he divided her hair back from her temples and +her face; he crossed her hands upon her breast, watched her for a +second as she lay, her dress soiled with the dust of his journeyings; +and then he dropped on his knees by the couch, and with a set white +face, with his eyelids shut tight upon his eyes, in a low, even voice +he steadily blasphemed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Some time later a hand was laid upon his shoulder and a strange voice +bade him rise. He stood up and looked at the stranger with a dazed +expression like one who comes out of the dark into a lighted room. +Warriner also was in the room. Charnock caught a word here and there; +the stranger was speaking to him; Charnock gathered that the stranger +was a doctor, and that Warriner had fetched him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But she's dead," said Charnock, resentfully. "Why trouble her? she's +dead." And looking down to Miranda, he saw that there was a faint +flush of pink upon her cheeks, where all had been white before. "But +you said she was dead," he said stupidly to Warriner, and as the +doctor bent over her, it broke in upon him that she was in truth +alive, that she had but swooned, and the shame of what he had done +came home to him. "I was mad," he said, "I was mad."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Go," said the doctor, "both of you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I can stay," said Warriner. "This is Mrs. Warriner; I am her husband, +Ralph Warriner." The doctor looked up sharply. Warriner simply nodded +his head. "Yes, yes," he said; "and this is Charnock. <i>Ce bon</i> +Charnock. You see, he loves my wife."</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner spoke slowly and in an inexpressive voice, as though he too +was hardly aware of what he said. The conviction that Miranda was dead +had come with equal force to both of these two men, and the knowledge +that she was not brought an equal stupefaction. Warriner remained in +the room; Charnock went outside and down the stairs.</p> + +<p class="normal">He came to his senses in the streets of Gibraltar, and looking +backwards, seemed to himself to have lost them weeks ago somewhere +between Mequinez and Alkasar, in a profitless rivalry for a woman who +could not belong to him. In the present revulsion of his feelings he +was conscious that he had lost all his enmity towards Warriner. He +walked down to the landing-stage at the Mole. The Levanter had spent +its force during the night; the sea had gone down; a steamer was +dropping its anchor in the bay. Charnock was in two minds whether or +no to cross the harbour to Algeciras, where Warriner and himself had +left their traps the day before, gather together his belongings, and +sail for England in that steamer. He had done all that he had been +enjoined to do; he had brought Warriner back; he had even, as he had +promised, paid the one last visit to Miranda. But,--but, he might be +wanted, he pleaded to himself, and so undecided he wandered about the +streets, and in the afternoon came back to the hotel.</p> + +<p class="normal">The waiter was watching for his return. Mrs. Warriner wished to speak +with him. There was no sign of Warriner. Charnock mounted the stairs. +There was no sign of Warriner within the sitting-room. Miranda was +alone, and from the frank unembarrassed way with which she held out +her hand, Charnock understood that she knew nothing of what had passed +in the morning.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_23" href="#div1Ref_23">RELATES A SECOND MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK +AND MIRANDA</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">"I Was afraid you had gone without my thanks," she said; "and thanks +are the only coin I have to pay you with."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Surely there needs no payment."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should have thanked you this morning; but your return overcame me, +I had hoped and prayed so much for it."</p> + +<p class="normal">The scream of the P. and O.'s steam-whistle sounded through the room. +They both turned instinctively to the window, they saw the last late +boat-load reach the ship's side, and in a moment or so they heard the +rattle of the anchor-chain.</p> + +<p class="normal">"And Ralph?" asked Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda pointed to the steamer. Already the white fan of water +streamed away from its stern.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He has sailed?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes. He could not stay here. His--" she paused for a second and then +spoke the word boldly, "his crime was hushed up, but it is of course +known here to a few, and all know that there is something. He told his +name to the doctor. It was not safe for him to stay over this +morning."</p> + +<p class="normal">"He has gone to England?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, but he will leave England immediately. He promised to write to +me, so that I may know where he is."</p> + +<p class="normal">More of Warriner's interview with his wife, neither Charnock nor +anyone ever knew. Whether he asked her to come with him and she +refused, or whether, once he saw her and had speech with her, his +fictitious passion died as quickly as it had grown--these are matters +which Miranda kept locked within her secret memories. At this time +indeed such questions did not at all occur to Charnock. As he watched +the great steamer heading out of the bay, and understood that he must +be taking the same path, he was filled with a great pity for the +lonely woman at his side. The thought of her home up there in the +Spanish hills and of her solitary, discontented companion came to him +with a new and poignant sadness. Ronda was no longer a fitting shrine +for her as his first fancies had styled it, but simply a strange place +in a strange country.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why don't you go home to your own place, to your own people?" he +suggested rather than asked.</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda was silent for a while. "I have thought of it," she said at +length; "I think too that I shall. At first, there was the disgrace, +there was the pity--I could not have endured it; besides, there was +Rupert. But--but--I think I shall."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should," said Charnock, decidedly. "I should be glad, too, to know +that you had made up your mind to that. I should be very glad to think +that you were back at your own home."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why?" she asked, a little surprised at his earnestness.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Of course, I wasn't born to it," he replied disconnectedly; "but now +and then I have stayed at manor-houses in the country; and such visits +have always left an impression on me. I would have liked myself to +have been born of the soil on which I lived, to have lived where my +fathers and grandfathers lived and walked and laughed and suffered, in +the same rooms, under the same trees, enjoying the associations which +they made. Do you know, I don't think that that is a privilege lightly +to be foregone." And for a while again they both were silent.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then Miranda turned suddenly and frankly towards him: "I should like +so much to show you my home." She had said much the same on that first +evening of their meeting in Lady Donnisthorpe's balcony, as they both +surely remembered.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should like much to see it," returned Charnock, gently; "but I am a +busy man." Miranda coloured at the conventional excuse, as Charnock +saw. "But it was kind of you to say that. I was glad to hear it," he +added.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was not to the addition she replied, but to his first excuse. "As +it is, you have lost two years. I have made you lose them."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Please!" he exclaimed. "You won't let that trouble you. Promise me! I +am a young man; it would be a strange thing if I could not give two +years to you. Believe me, Mrs. Warriner, when my time comes, and I +turn my face to the wall, whatever may happen between now and then, I +shall count those two years as the years for which I have most reason +to be thankful."</p> + +<p class="normal">Miranda turned abruptly away from him and looked out of the window +with intense curiosity at nothing whatever. Then she said in a low +voice: "I hope that's true; I hope you mean it; I believe you do. I +have been much troubled by an old theory of yours, that a woman was a +brake on the wheel going up hill, and a whip in the driver's hand +going down."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will give you a new theory to replace the old," he answered. "There +are always things to do, you know. Suppose that a man has cared for a +woman, has set her always within his vision, has always worked for +her, for a long while, and has at last come surely, against his will, +to know that she was ... despicable, why then, perhaps he might have +reason to be disheartened. But otherwise--well, he has things to do +and memories to quicken him in the doing of them."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Thank you," she said simply. "I think what you say is true. I once +met a man who found a woman to be despicable, and the world went very +ill with him."</p> + +<p class="normal">It was of Major Wilbraham she was thinking, who had more than once +written to Miranda during these two years, and whose last letter she +imagined to be lying then in a drawer of her writing-table at Ronda.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3><a name="div1_24" href="#div1Ref_24">A MIST IN THE CHANNEL ENDS, AS IT BEGAN, +THE BOOK</a></h3> +<br> + +<p class="normal">But that letter was in Ralph Warriner's pocket, as he walked the deck +of the P. and O. It was dated from a hotel at Dartmouth, whence, said +the Major, he was starting on a little cruise westwards in the company +of a young gentleman from Oxford who owned a competence and a yacht. +The Major would be back at Dartmouth in some six weeks' time and +hoped, for Mrs. Warriner's sake, that he would find a registered +letter awaiting him. The Major was still upon his cruise, as Ralph +Warriner was assured from the recent date of the letter.</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner disembarked at Plymouth and took train to Dartmouth, where he +learned the name of the yacht by merely asking at the hotel. He tried +to hire a steam launch, for sooner or later in one of the harbours he +would be sure to come up with Wilbraham, if he only kept a sharp eye; +but steam launches are difficult to hire at this season of the year, +and in the end he had to content himself with chartering a ten-ton +cutter. He engaged one hand, by whose testimony the history of Ralph's +pursuit came to be known, and sailed out of Dartmouth to the west. He +sailed out in the morning, and coming to Salcombe ran over the bar on +the tail of the flood, but did not find his quarry there, and so beat +out again on the first of the ebb and reached past Bolt Head and Bolt +Tail, across Bigbury Bay with its low red rocks, to Plymouth. +Wilbraham had anchored in the Cattwater only two days before; the +yacht was a yawl, named the <i>Monitor</i>; and was making for the +Scillies. Warriner laughed when he picked up word about the +destination of the yacht, and thought it would be very appropriate if +he could overhaul the <i>Monitor</i> somewhere off Rosevear. As to what +course he intended to pursue when he caught Wilbraham, he had no +settled plan; but on the other hand he had a new revolver in his +berth.</p> + +<p class="normal">He put out from Plymouth under a light breeze, which failed him +altogether when he was abreast of Rame Head. Through the rest of the +day he drifted with the tide betwixt Rame Head and Plymouth. The night +came upon him jewelled with stars, and a light mist upon the surface +of the water; all that night he swung up and down some four miles out +to sea within view of Plymouth lights, but towards morning, a fitful +wind sprang up, drove the cutter as far as Polperro, and left it +becalmed on a sea of glass, in front of the little white village in +the wooded cliff-hollow, while the sun rose. Warriner opened the +narrow line of blue water which marks the mouth of the Fowey river at +eleven o'clock of the morning, and anchored in Fowey harbour about +twelve. It was a Sunday, and though the <i>Monitor</i> was not at Fowey, +Warriner determined to stay at his anchorage till the morrow.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Brixham fisherman who served him upon this cruise relates that +Warriner displayed no impatience or anxiety at any time. Of the +febrile instability which had set his thoughts flying this way and +that during the days of his companionship with Charnock, there was no +longer any trace in his demeanour. Perhaps it was that he was so +certain of attaining his desires; perhaps the long lesson of endurance +which he had been painfully taught in Morocco now bore its fruit; +perhaps too he had acquired something of the passive fatalism of the +Moorish race. During this Sunday afternoon, his last Sunday as it +proved, he quietly sculled the dinghy of his cutter, when the tide was +low, through the mud flats of the Fowey river to Lostwithiel; and +coming down again when the river was full, lay for a long time upon +his oars opposite a certain church that lifts above a clump of trees +on the river-bank. There he remained listening to the roll of the +organ and the sweet voices of the singers as they floated out through +the painted windows into the quiet of the summer evening; when the +service was over he bent to his sculls again and rowed back between +the steep and narrowing coppices, but it was dark before he turned the +last shoulder of hill and saw the long lines of riding-lights +trembling upon the water.</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner raised his anchor early on the Monday morning, and having the +wind on his quarter, made Falmouth betimes. At Falmouth he learned +that the <i>Monitor</i> had put out past St. Anthony's light only the day +before and had sailed westwards to Penzance.</p> + +<p class="normal">Warriner followed without delay, and when he was just past the Manacle +rocks, the wind dropped. With the help of the tide and an occasional +flaw of wind, he worked his cutter round the Lizard Point and laid her +head for Penzance across the bay; and it was then that the fog took +him. It crept out of the sea at about four of the afternoon, a thin +grey mist, and it thickened into a dense umber fog.</p> + +<p class="normal">The fog hung upon the Channel for thirty hours. The cutter swung into +the bay with the tide. The Brixham fisherman could hear all along, to +his right hand, the muffled roar as the groundswell broke upon the +Lizard rocks, and the sucking withdrawal which told that those rocks +were very near. The Lizard fog-horn, which sounded a minute ago +abreast of them, sounded now quite faintly astern. The boat swung with +the tide and would not steer; yet Warriner betrayed no alarm and no +impatience at the check. He sat on the deck with a lantern by his side +and drew, said the fisherman, a little flute or pipe from his pocket, +on which he played tunes that were no tunes, and from which he drew a +weird shrill music of an infinite melancholy and of infinite +suggestions. Once the Brixham man crouched suddenly by the gunwale and +peered intently over the boat's side. At a little distance off, +something black loomed through the fog about the height of the mast's +yard,--something black which rapidly approached.</p> + +<p class="normal">"It's not a squall," said Warriner, quietly interrupting his music. +"It's a rock. I know this coast well. We had better get the dinghy out +and row her head off."</p> + +<p class="normal">When that was done, he squatted again upon the deck by the side of the +lantern, and played shrilly upon his pipe while the light threw a +grotesque reflection of his figure upon the fog.</p> + +<p class="normal">After a while they heard the Lizard-horn abreast of them again.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The tide has turned," said Warriner, and the Brixham man dived +hurriedly into the well for the poor fog-horn which the boat carried. +The cutter drifted out stern-foremost past the Lizard rocks, and in a +little, from this side and from that, ahead of them, astern, they +heard the throb of engines and the hoarse steam-whistles of the +Atlantic cargo-boats and liners. They had drifted across the track of +the ocean-going steamers. The Brixham man blew upon his horn till his +lungs cracked. He relates that nothing happened until three o'clock in +the morning, as he knows, since Warriner just at three o'clock took +his watch from his pocket and looked at the dial by the lantern-light. +He mentions too, as a detail which struck him at the time, that the +door of the lantern was open, and so still was the heavy air that the +candle burnt steadily as in a room. At three o'clock in the morning he +suddenly saw a glimmering flash of white upon the cutter's beam. For a +fraction of a second he was dazed. Then he lifted the horn to his +mouth, and he was still lifting it--so small an interval was there of +time--when a huge sharp wedge cut through the fog and towered above +the cutter out of sight. The wedge was the bows of an Atlantic liner. +No one on that liner heard the despairing, interrupted moan of the +tiny fog-horn beneath the ship's forefoot; no one felt the shock. The +Brixham man was hurled clear of the steamer, and after swimming for +the best part of an hour was picked up by a smack which he came upon +by chance. Warriner's body was washed up three days later upon the +Lizard rocks.</p> + +<p class="normal">This history did not reach Charnock's ears for a full year afterwards; +for within a week of his arrival in London, where his unexplained +disappearance had puzzled very few, since he was known for a man of +many disappearances, he had started off to Asia Minor, there to survey +the line of a projected railway. The railway was never more than +projected, and after a year the survey was abandoned. Charnock +returned to London and heard the story of Warriner's death from Lady +Donnisthorpe's lips at her last reception at the end of the season. +Lady Donnisthorpe was irritated at the impassive face with which he +listened. She was yet more irritated when he said casually, without +any reference whatever to a word of her narrative, "Who is that girl? +I think I have seen her before."</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe followed the direction of his eyes, and saw a young +girl with very pale gold hair. Lady Donnisthorpe rose from her chair. +"Perhaps you would like me to introduce you," she said with sarcastic +asperity.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I should," replied Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">Lady Donnisthorpe waved her hands helplessly and brushed away all +mankind. She led Charnock across the room, introduced him, and left +him with a manner of extreme coldness, to which Charnock at this +moment was quite impervious.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think I have seen you here before," said Charnock.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said the girl, "I remember. It was some while since. Why have +you quarrelled?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The meaning of that question dawned upon Charnock gradually. The girl +with the gold hair smiled at his perplexity, and laughed pleasantly at +his comprehension.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock looked round the room.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," said she.</p> + +<p class="normal">He looked towards the window, and the window was open.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," said the girl.</p> + +<p class="normal">Charnock found Miranda upon the balcony.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>THE END.</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miranda of the Balcony, by +A. E. W. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Miranda of the Balcony + A Story + +Author: A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley) Mason + +Release Date: January 26, 2012 [EBook #38679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive + + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + + 1. Page scan source: + http://www.archive.org/details/mirandabalconya00masogoog + + 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. + + + + + + MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY + + + + + + + MIRANDA + + OF THE BALCONY + + + + _A STORY_ + + + + + BY + + A. E. W. MASON + + AUTHOR OF "THE COURTSHIP OF MORRICE BUCKLER," ETC. + + + + + New York + THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. + 1899 + _All rights reserved_ + + + + + + + Copyright, 1899, + By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + + + + + _Norwood Press_ + _J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith_ + _Norwood, Mass., U.S.A_. + + + + + + CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER I + +IN WHICH A SHORT-SIGHTED TAXIDERMIST FROM TANGIER MAKES A DISCOVERY +UPON ROSEVEAR. + + + CHAPTER II + +PRESENTS THE HERO IN THE UNHEROIC ATTITUDE OF A SPECTATOR. + + + CHAPTER III + +TREATS OF A GENTLEMAN WITH AN AGREEABLE COUNTENANCE AND OF A WOMAN'S +FACE IN A MIRROR. + + + CHAPTER IV + +TREATS OF THE FIRST MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA. + + + CHAPTER V + +WHEREIN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA IMPROVE THEIR ACQUAINTANCESHIP IN A +BALCONY. + + + CHAPTER VI + +WHILE CHARNOCK BUILDS CASTLES IN SPAIN, MIRANDA RETURNS THERE. + + + CHAPTER VII + +IN WHICH MAJOR WILBRAHAM DESCRIBES THE STEPS BY WHICH HE ATTAINED HIS +MAJORITY AND GIVES MIRANDA SOME PARTICULAR INFORMATION. + + + CHAPTER VIII + +EXPLAINS THE MYSTERY OF THE "TARIFA'S" CARGO. + + + CHAPTER IX + +SHOWS THE USE WHICH A BLIND MAN MAY MAKE OF A DARK NIGHT. + + + CHAPTER X + +M. FOURNIER EXPOUNDS THE ADVANTAGES WHICH EACH SEX HAS OVER THE OTHER. + + + CHAPTER XI + +IN WHICH MIRANDA ADOPTS A NEW LINE OF CONDUCT AND THE MAJOR EXPRESSES +SOME DISCONTENT. + + + CHAPTER XII + +THE HERO, LIKE ALL HEROES, FINDS HIMSELF IN A FOG. + + + CHAPTER XIII + +WHEREIN THE HERO'S PERPLEXITIES INCREASE. + + + CHAPTER XIV + +MIRANDA PROFESSES REGRET FOR A PRACTICAL JOKE. + + + CHAPTER XV + +IN WHICH THE MAJOR LOSES HIS TEMPER AND RECOVERS IT. + + + CHAPTER XVI + +EXPLAINS WHY CHARNOCK SAW MIRANDA'S FACE IN HIS MIRROR. + + + CHAPTER XVII + +SHOWS HOW A TOMBSTONE MAY CONVINCE WHEN ARGUMENTS FAIL. + + + CHAPTER XVIII + +IN WHICH THE TAXIDERMIST AND A BASHA PREVAIL OVER A BLIND MAN. + + + CHAPTER XIX + +TELLS OF CHARNOCK'S WANDERINGS IN MOROCCO AND OF A WALNUT-WOOD DOOR. + + + CHAPTER XX + +CHARNOCK, LIKE THE TAXIDERMIST, FINDS WARRINER ANYTHING BUT A +COMFORTABLE COMPANION. + + + CHAPTER XXI + +COMPLETES THE JOURNEYINGS OF THIS INCONGRUOUS COUPLE. + + + CHAPTER XXII + +IN WHICH CHARNOCK ASTONISHES RALPH WARRINER. + + + CHAPTER XXIII + +RELATES A SECOND MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA. + + + CHAPTER XXIV + +A MIST IN THE CHANNEL ENDS, AS IT BEGAN, THE BOOK. + + + + + + MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY + + + + + CHAPTER I + + IN WHICH A SHORT-SIGHTED TAXIDERMIST FROM TANGIER MAKES A DISCOVERY + UPON ROSEVEAR + + +The discovery made a great stir amongst the islands, and particularly +at St. Mary's. In the square space before the Customs' House, on the +little stone jetty, among the paths through the gorse of the Garrison, +it became the staple subject of gossip, until another ship came ashore +and other lives were lost. For quite apart from its odd circumstances, +a certain mystery lent importance to Ralph Warriner. It transpired +that nearly two years before, when on service at Gibraltar, Captain +Warriner of the Artillery had slipped out of harbour one dark night in +his yacht, and had straightway disappeared; it was proved that +subsequently he had been dismissed from the service; and the coroner +of St. Mary's in a moment of indiscretion let slip the information +that the Home Office had requested him to furnish it with a detailed +history of the facts. The facts occurred in this sequence. + +At seven o'clock of a morning in the last week of July, the St. Agnes +lugger which carries the relief men to and fro between the Trinity +House barracks upon St. Mary's and the Bishop Lighthouse in the +Atlantic, ran alongside of St. Mary's pier. There were waiting upon +the steps, the two lighthouse men, and a third, a small rotund Belgian +of a dark, shiny countenance which seemed always on the point of +perspiring. He was swathed in a borrowed suit of oilskins much too +large for him, and would have cut a comical figure had he not on that +raw morning looked supremely unhappy and pathetic. M. Claude Fournier +was a taxidermist by profession and resided at Tangier; he was never +backward in declaring that the evidences of his skill decorated many +entrance-halls throughout Europe; and some three weeks before he had +come holiday-making alone to the islands of Scilly. + +He now stood upon the steps of the pier nervously polishing his +glasses as the lugger swung upwards and downwards on the swell. He +watched the relief men choose their time and spring on board, and just +as Zebedee Isaacs, the master of the boat, was about to push off with +his boat-hook, he nerved himself to speak. + +"I go with you to the Bishop, is it not?" + +Isaacs looked up in surprise. He had been wondering what had brought +the little man out in this dress and on this morning. + +"There'll be a head-wind all the way," he said discouragingly, "and +wi' that and a heavy ground sea we'll be brave an' wet before we reach +the Bishop, brave an' wet." + +"I do not mind," replied M. Fournier. "For the sea, I am _devot_;" but +his voice was tremulous and belied him. + +Isaacs shook his head. + +"It's not only the sea. Look!" And he stretched out his arm. A +variable fog rolled and tumbled upon a tumbling wilderness of sea. +"I'ld sooner have two gales lashed together than sail amongst these +islands in a fog. I'ld never go to-day at all, but the boat's more'n +three weeks overdue." + +Indeed, as M. Fournier looked seawards, there was no glimpse of land +visible. A fortnight of heavy weather had been followed by a week of +fog which enveloped the islands like a drenched blanket. Only to-day +had it shown any signs of breaking, and the St. Agnes lugger was the +first boat, so far as was known, to run the hazard of the sea. It is +true that two days before one man had run in to the bar of +Tregarthen's Hotel and told how he had stood upon the top of the +Garrison and had looked suddenly down a lane between two perpendicular +walls of mist, and had seen the water breaking white upon Great Smith +Rock, and in the near distance an open boat under a mizzen and a jib, +beating out through the heavy swell towards the west. But his story +was in no wise believed. + +To all of Isaacs's objections M. Fournier was impervious, and he was +at last allowed to embark. + +"Now!" cried Zebedee Isaacs, as the lugger rose. M. Fournier gave a +pathetic look backwards to the land, shut his eyes and jumped. Isaacs +caught and set him upon the floor of the boat, where he stood +clutching the runners. He saw the landing-steps dizzily rush past him +up to the sky like a Jacob's ladder, and then as dizzily shut +downwards below him like a telescope. + +The boat was pushed off. It rounded the pier-head and beat out on its +first tack, across the Road. M. Fournier crouched down under the +shelter of the weather bulwark. + +"As for the sea I am _devot_," he murmured, with a watery smile. + +In a little the boat was put about. From Sour Milk Ledge it was sailed +on the port tack towards Great Minalto, and felt the wind and felt the +sea. It climbed up waves till the red lug-sail swung over M. +Fournier's head like a canopy; and on the downward slope the heavy +bows took the water with a thud. M. Fournier knelt up and clung to the +stays. At all costs he must see. He stared into the shifting fog at +the rollers which came hopping and leaping towards him; and he was +very silent and very still, as though the fascination of terror +enchained him. + +On the third tack, however, he began to resume his courage. He even +smiled over his shoulder towards Zebedee Isaacs at the tiller. + +"As for the sea," he began to say, "I am--" But the statement, which +he was not to verify on this day, ended in a shriek. For at that +moment a great green wave hopped exultingly over the bows, and +thenceforward all the way to the Bishop the lugger shipped much water. + +M. Fournier's behaviour became deplorable. As Isaacs bluntly and +angrily summarised it, "he lay upon the thwarts and screeched like a +rook;" and in his appeals to his mother he was quite conventionally +French. + +He made no attempt to land upon the Lighthouse. The relief men were +hoisted up in the sling, the head-keeper and one of his assistants +were lowered, and the lugger started upon its homeward run before the +wind. The fog thickened and lightened about them as they threaded the +intricate channels of the western islands. Now it was a thin grey +mist, parting here and there in long corridors, driven this way and +that, twirling in spires of smoke, shepherded by the winds; now again +it hung close about them an impenetrable umber, while the crew in +short quick tones and gestures of the arms mapped out the rocks and +passages. About them they could hear the roar of the breaking waves +and the rush of water up slabs and over ledges, and then the "glumph +glumph" as the wave sucked away. At times, too, the fog lifted from +the surface and hung very low, massed above their heads, so that the +black hillocks of the islets stood out in the sinister light like +headstones of a cemetery of the sea, and at the feet of them the water +was white like a flash of hungry teeth. + +It was at one such moment, when the boat had just passed through +Crebawethan Neck, that M. Fournier, who had been staring persistently +over the starboard bulwark, suddenly startled the crew. + +"There's a ship on shore. _Tenez_--look!" he cried. "There, there!" +And as he spoke the mist drove between his eyes and what he declared +that he saw. + +Zebedee Isaacs looked in the direction. + +"On Jacky's Rock?" he asked, nodding towards a menacing column of +black rock which was faintly visible. + +"No, no--beyond!--There!" And M. Fournier excitedly gesticulated. He +seemed at that moment to have lost all his terror of the sea. + +"On Rosevear, then," said the keeper of the lighthouse, and he +strained towards Rosevear. + +"I see nothing," he said, "and--" + +"There's nothing to see," replied Isaacs, who did not alter his +course. + +"But it's true," exclaimed the little Belgian. "I see it no more +myself. But I have seen it, I tell you. I have seen the mast above the +island--" + +"You!" interrupted Isaacs, with a blunt contempt; "you are blind!" And +M. Fournier, before anyone could guess his intention, flung himself +upon Isaacs and jammed the tiller hard over to port. The boat came +broadside to the wind, heeled over, and in a second the water was +pouring in over the gunwale. Zebedee wrenched the main sheet off the +pin, and let the big sail fly; another loosed the jib. The promptitude +of these two men saved the boat. It ran its head up into the wind, +righted itself upon its keel, and lay with flapping sails and +shivered. + +Isaacs without a word caught hold of M. Fournier and shook him like a +rat; and every man of the crew in violent tones expounded to the +Belgian the enormity of his crime. Fournier was himself well-nigh +frantic with excitement. He was undaunted by any threats of violence; +neither the boat, nor the sea, nor the crew had any terrors for him. + +"There is a ship!" he screamed. "The fog was vanished--just for a +second it was vanished, and I have seen it. There may be men alive on +that rock--starving, perishing, men of the sea like you. You will not +leave them. But you shall not!" And clinging to the mast he stamped +his feet. "But you shall not!" + +"And by the Lord he's right," said the lighthouse-keeper, gravely--so +gravely that complete silence at once fell upon the crew. One man +stood up in the bows, a second knelt upon the thwarts, a third craned +his body out beyond the stern, and all with one accord stared towards +Rosevear. The screen of haze was drawn aside, and quite clear to the +view over a low rock, rose the mast and tangled cordage of a wreck. + +The sheets were made fast without a word. Without a word, Zebedee +Isaacs put the boat about and steered it into the Neck between +Rosevear and Rosevean. As they passed along that narrow channel, no +noise was heard but the bustle of the tide. For at the western end +they saw the bows of a ship unsteadily poised upon a ledge. There was +a breach amidships, the stern was under water, only the foremast +stood; and nowhere was there any sign of life. + +Isaacs brought the boat to in a tiny creek, some distance from the +wreck. + +"We can land here," he said, and the lighthouse-keeper and Fournier +stepped ashore. + +On the instant that quiet, silent islet whirred into life and noise. +So startling was the change that M. Fournier jumped backwards while +his heart jerked within him. + +"What's that?" he cried, and then laughed as he understood. For a +cloud of puffins, gulls, kittiwakes and shearwaters whirled upwards +from that nursery of sea-birds and circled above his head, their cries +sounding with infinite melancholy, their wings flickering like silver +in that grey and desolate light. + +"It's so like your Robinson Crusoe," said M. Fournier. + +"It is more like our islands of Scilly," said the lighthouse-keeper, +as he looked towards the wreck. + +They climbed over the low rocks and walked along the crown of the +island towards the wreck. There was no tree or shrub upon the +barren soil, only here a stretch of sandy grass, there a patch of +mallows--mallows of a rusty green and whitened with salt of the sea. +In the midst of one such patch they came upon the body of a man. He +was dressed in a pilot coat, sea boots and thick stockings drawn over +his trousers to the hips, and he lay face downwards with his head +resting upon his arms in a natural posture of sleep. + +Fournier stood still. The lighthouse-keeper walked forward and tapped +the sleeper upon the shoulder. But the sleeper did not wake. The +lighthouse man knelt down and gently turned the man over upon his +back; as he did so, or rather just before he did so, Fournier turned +sharply away with a shudder. When the sailor was lying upon his back, +the keeper of the lighthouse started with something of a shudder too. +For the sailor had no face. + +The lighthouse man drew his handkerchief from his pocket and gently +covered the head. It seemed almost as if Fournier had been waiting, +had been watching, for this action. For he turned about immediately +and stood by the lighthouse-keeper's side. Above the lonely islet the +sea-birds circled and called; on the sea the mist was now no more than +a gauze, and through it the glow of the sun was faintly diffused. + +"Strange that, isn't it?" said the lighthouse-keeper, in a hushed +voice. "The sea dashed him upon the rocks and drew him down again and +threw him up again until it got tired of the sport, and so tossed him +here to lie quietly face downwards amongst the mallows like a man +asleep." + +Then he sat back upon his heels and measured the distance between the +mallows and the sea with some perplexity upon his forehead--and the +perplexity grew. + +"It's a long way for the sea to have thrown him," he said, and as +Fournier shifted restlessly at his side, he looked up into his face. +"Good God, man, but you look white," he said. + +"The sight is terrible," replied Fournier, as he wiped his forehead. + +The lighthouse-keeper nodded assent. + +"Yes, it's a terrible place, the sea about these western islands," he +said. "Did you ever hear tell that there are sunken cities all the way +between here and Land's End, the sunken cities of Lyonnesse? Terrible +sights those cities must see. I often think of the many ships which +have plunged down among their chimneys and roof-tops--perhaps here a +great Spanish galleon with its keel along the middle of a paved square +and its poop overhanging the gables, and the fishes swimming in and +out of the cabins through the broken windows; perhaps there a big +three-decker like Sir Cloudesley Shovel's, showing the muzzles of +her silent guns; or a little steam-tramp of our own times, its iron +sides brown with rust, and God knows what tragedy hidden in its tiny +engine-room. A terrible place--these islands of Scilly, dwelling +amongst the seas, as the old books say--dwelling amongst the seas." + +He bent forward and unfastened the dead sailor's pilot jacket. Then he +felt in his pocket and drew out an oilskin case. This he opened, and +Fournier knelt beside him. + +There were a few letters in the case, which the two men read through. +They were of no particular importance beyond that they were headed +"Yacht The Ten Brothers," and they were signed "Ralph Warriner," all +of them except one. This one was a love-letter of a date six years +back. It was addressed to "Ralph," and was signed "Miranda." + +"Six years old," said the lighthouse-keeper. "For six years he has +carried that about with him, and now it will be read out in court to +make a sorry fun for people whom he never knew. That's hard on him, +eh? But harder on the woman." + +At the words, spoken in a low voice, M. Fournier moved uneasily and +seemed to wince. The lighthouse-keeper held the letter in his hands +and thoughtfully turned over its pages. + +"I have a mind to tear it up, but I suppose I must not." He returned +the papers to the oilskin case, and going back to the boat called for +two of the crew to carry the body down. "Meanwhile," said he to +Fournier, "we might have a look at 'The Ten Brothers.'" + +They could not approach the bows of the ship, but overlooked them from +a pinnacle of rock. There was, however, little to be remarked. + +"She is an old boat, and she has seen some weather from the look of +her," said the lighthouse-keeper. That, indeed, was only to be +expected, for "The Ten Brothers" had been a trader before Ralph +Warriner bought her, and two years had elapsed between the night when +he slipped from Gibraltar Harbour, and the day when this boat came to +its last moorings upon Rosevear. + +The mist cleared altogether towards sunset. The sun shone out from the +edge of the horizon a ball of red fire, and the lugger ferried the +dead body back to St. Mary's over a sea which had the colour of +claret, and through foam ripples which sparkled like gold. + +The Miranda who wrote the love-letter was Miranda Warriner, Ralph +Warriner's wife. Miranda Bedlow she had been at the date which headed +the letter. She was living now at Ronda in the Andalusian hills, a +hundred miles from Algeciras and Gibraltar, and had lived there since +her husband's disappearance. To Ronda the oilskin case was sent. She +heard the news of her Ralph's death with a natural sense of solemnity, +but she was too sincere a woman to assume a grief which she could not +feel. For her married life had been one of extraordinary unhappiness. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + PRESENTS THE HERO IN THE UNHEROIC ATTITUDE OF A SPECTATOR + + +It was Lady Donnisthorpe who two years later introduced Luke Charnock +to Mrs. Warriner. Lady Donnisthorpe was an outspoken woman with an +untameable passion for match-making, which she indulged with the +ardour and, indeed, the results of an amateur chemist. Her life was +spent in mingling incompatible elements and producing explosions to +which her enthusiasm kept her deaf, even when they made a quite +astonishing noise. For no experience of reverses could stale her +satisfaction when she beheld an eligible bachelor or maid walk for the +first time into her parlour. + +She had made Charnock's acquaintance originally in Barbados. He sat +next her at a dinner given by the Governor of the Island, and took her +fancy with the pleasing inconsistency of a boyish appearance and a +wealth of experiences. He was a man of a sunburnt aquiline face, which +was lean but not haggard, grey and very steady eyes, and a lithe, tall +figure, and though he conveyed an impression of activity, he was still +a restful companion. Lady Donnisthorpe remarked in him a modern +appreciation of the poetry of machinery, and after dinner made +inquiries of the Governor. + +"He is on his way homewards from Peru," answered the latter. "He has +been surveying for a railway line there during the last two years. +What do you think of him?" + +"I want to know what you think." + +"I like him. He is modest without diffidence, successful without +notoriety." + +"What are his people?" asked Lady Donnisthorpe. + +"I don't believe he has any. But I believe his father was a clergyman +in Yorkshire." + +"It would sound improper for a girl without visible relations to say +that she was the daughter of a clergyman in Yorkshire, wouldn't it?" +said her ladyship, reflectively. "But I suppose it's no objection in a +man;" and in her memories she made a mark against Charnock's name. She +heard of him again once or twice in unexpected quarters from the lips +of the men who from East to West are responsible for the work that is +done; and once or twice she met him, for she was a determined +traveller. Finally, at Cairo, she sat next to Sir John Martin, the +head partner of a great Leeds firm of railway contractors. + +"Did you ever come across a Mr. Charnock?" she asked. + +The head partner laughed. + +"I did; I knew his father." + +"It's a strange thing about Mr. Charnock," said she, "but one never +hears anything of what he was doing before the last few years." + +"Why not ask him?" said the North-countryman, bluntly. + +"It might sound inquisitive," replied Lady Donnisthorpe, "and perhaps +there's no need to, if you know." + +"Yes, I know," returned Sir John, with a great deal of provoking +amusement, "and, believe me, Lady Donnisthorpe, it's not at all to his +discredit." + +Lady Donnisthorpe began thereafter to select and reject possible wives +for Charnock, and while still undecided, she chanced to pass one +December through Nice. The first person whom she saw in the vestibule +of the hotel was Luke Charnock. + +"What in the world are you doing here?" she asked. + +"Taking a week's holiday, Lady Donnisthorpe. I have been in Spain for +the last two years, and shall be for the next nine months." + +"In Spain?" + +"I am making a new line between Cadiz and Algeciras." + +"God bless the man, and I never thought of it!" exclaimed Lady +Donnisthorpe. "I think you will do," she added, looking him over, and +nodding her head. + +"I hope so," replied Charnock, cheerfully. "It's a big lift for me." + +"In a way, no doubt," agreed her ladyship. "Though, mind you, the land +isn't what it was." + +"The railway will improve it," said Charnock. + +They happened to be talking of different subjects. Lady Donnisthorpe +pursued her own. + +"Then you won't be in England for a year?" she said regretfully. + +"The company building the line is an English one," replied Charnock. +"I shall have to see the directors in June. I shall be in London +then." + +"Then you must come and see me. Write before you leave Spain. +Promise!" said Lady Donnisthorpe, who was now elated. + +Charnock promised, and that day Lady Donnisthorpe wrote to her cousin, +Miranda Warriner, at Ronda, who was now at the end of the first year +of her widowhood, and of the third year of her ridiculous seclusion at +that little hill-town of Spain. Miranda was entreated, implored, and +commanded to come to London in May. There was the season, there was +Miranda's estate in Suffolk, which needed her attention. Miranda +reluctantly consented, and so Lady Donnisthorpe was the instrument by +which Charnock and Mrs. Warriner became acquainted. But the +foundations of that acquaintanceship were laid without her ladyship's +agency, and indeed without the knowledge of either Charnock or +Miranda. + +A trifling defect in the machinery of a P. and O. boat began it. The +P. and O. stayed for four days at Aden to make repairs, and so +Charnock had four days to wait at Gibraltar before he could embark for +England. He did not, however, spend more than two of those four days +at Gibraltar, but picking up a yellow handbill in the lounge of the +hotel, he obeyed its advice, and crossing the sunlit straits early the +next morning saw the jealous hills about Tangier unfold and that +cardboard city glitter down to the sea. + +He was rowed ashore to the usual accompaniment of shouts and yells by +a villainous boat's crew of Arabs. A mob of Barbary Jews screamed at +him on the landing-stage, and then a Moorish boy with a brown roguish +face who was dressed in a saffron jellabia, pushed his way forwards +and in a conversational voice said, "You English? God damn you, give +me a penny!" + +Charnock hired that boy, and under his guidance sauntered through +Tangier where the East and the West rub shoulders, where the camel +snarls in the Sok with an electric arc-lamp for a night-light, and all +the races and all the centuries jostle together in many colours down +the cobbles of its narrow streets. Charnock was shown the incidentals +of the Tangier variety entertainment: the Basha administering more or +less justice for less or more money at his Palace gate; the wooden +peep-hole of the prison where the prisoners' hands come through and +clutch for alms; a dancing-room where a Moorish woman closely veiled +leaned her back against a Tottenham Court Road chest of drawers under +a portrait of Mrs. Langtry, and beat upon a drum while another stamped +an ungainly dance by the light of a paraffin lamp; and coming out +again into the sunlight, Charnock cried out, "Hamet, take me somewhere +where it's clean, and there's no din, and there are no smells." + +Hamet led the way up the hills, and every now and then, as he passed a +man better dressed than his fellows he would say in a voice of awe: + +"That's a rich." He invariably added, "He's a Juice." + +"Look here, Hamet," said Charnock, at length, "can't you show me a +rich who isn't a Jew?" + +"These are the loryers," observed Hamet, after the fashion of the +March Hare when posed with an inconvenient question. He pointed to a +number of venerable gentlemen in black robes who sat in wooden hutches +open to the street. "I will show you," he continued, "a Moor who was +the richest man in all Tangier." + +The pair walked up out of the town towards the Mazan, and came to a +lane shadowed by cedars and bordered with prickly pears. Here the +resounding din of the streets below was subdued to a murmurous +confusion of voices, from which occasionally a sharp cry would spirt +up clear into the air like a jet of water. Only one voice was definite +and incessant, and that voice came down to them from the trees higher +up the lane--a voice very thin, but on that hot, still afternoon very +distinct--a voice which perpetually quavered and bleated one +monotonous invocation. + +"Hassan Akbar," said Hamet. + +The invocation became articulate as they ascended. "Allah Beh!" the +voice cried, and again "Allah Beh!" and again, until the windless air +seemed to vibrate with its recurrence. + +They came upon the Moor who uttered this cry at the gate of the +Moorish cemetery. A white, stubbly beard grew upon his chin and lips, +but his strength was not diminished by his years, and with every +movement of his body the muscles beneath the tough skin of his bare +legs worked like live things. He sat cross-legged in the dust with a +filthy sack for his only garment; he was blind, and his eyes stared +from their red sockets covered with a bluish film as though the +colours of the eyeballs had run. + +"Allah Beh!" he cried, swaying his body backwards and forwards with +the regularity of an automaton and an inimitable quickness. He paid no +heed whatever to Charnock and the boy as they halted beside him. +"Allah Beh!" he cried, and his chest touched the cradle of his knees. +He marked the seconds with the pendulum of his body; he struck them +with his strident invocation. + +"He was the richest man in Tangier," said Hamet, and he told Hassan +Akbar's story as though it was an affair of every day. Hassan had not +secured the protection of any of the European Legations. He had hoped +to hide his wealth by living poorly, and though he owned a house worth +three thousand dollars in Tangier, he did not dwell in it. But no +concealments had availed him. Someone of his familiars had told, and +no doubt had made his profit from the telling. The Basha had waited +his opportunity. It came when blindness left Hassan defenceless. Then +the Basha laid hands upon him, forced him to give up the gains of a +lifetime's trade, and so cast him out penniless to beg for copper +flouss at the gate of the cemetery. + +"And Europe's no more than seven miles away," cried Charnock. Even +where he stood he could see the laughing water of the Straits, and +beyond that, the summit of Gibraltar. "Who was it that told?" he +asked. + +"That is not known." + +Charnock dropped some money into the blind man's lap, but Hassan did +not cease from his prayer to thank him. + +"He is very strong," said Hamet, who saw nothing strange in the story +he had told. "He swings like this all day from seven in the morning to +five at night. He never stops." And at that moment, upon the heels of +Hamet's words, as though intentionally to belie them, Hassan Akbar +suddenly arrested the motion of his body and suddenly ceased from his +pitiable cry. + +His silence and immobility came with so much abruptness that Charnock +was fairly startled. Then Hamet held up a finger, and they both +listened. Maybe the blind man was listening too, but Charnock could +not be certain. His face was as blind as his eyes, and there was no +expression in the rigid attitude of his body. + +Charnock heard a faint sound higher up the lane. The sound became +louder and defined itself. It was the slap-slap of a pair of Moorish +slippers. Charnock drew Hamet back by the trunk of a tree, which +sheltered them both from the view of anyone who came down the hill. He +left the lane free, and into the open space there came a man who wore +the dress of a Moor of wealth, serwal, chamir, farajia, and haik, +spotless and complete. In figure he was slight and perhaps a trifle +under the middle height, and the haik was drawn close over his +forehead to shield him from the sun. + +Hassan was seated in the dust with the sun beating full upon his head. +In front of him the newcomer stopped. "Peace be with you," he said, as +Charnock, who had some knowledge of Arabic, understood. But the beggar +made no answer, nor gave any sign that he heard. He sat motionless, +impassive, a secret figure of stone. + +The newcomer laughed lightly to himself, and the laughter, within view +of the rags and misery of the once rich man, sounded unpleasant and +callous. Hamet shifted a foot at Charnock's side, and Charnock, whose +interest in this picturesque encounter was steadily growing, pressed a +hand upon the boy's shoulder to restrain him. + +The stranger, however, had noticed neither of the two spectators. He +was still laughing softly to himself as he watched the beggar, and in +a little he began to hum between his teeth a tune--a queer, elusive +tune of a sweet but rather mournful melody; and it seemed to Charnock +by some indefinable hint of movement that Hassan Akbar was straining +his ears to catch and register that tune. + +The stranger advanced to Hassan and dropped a coin in his lap. The +coin was not copper, for it sparkled in the air as it fell. Then with +another easy laugh he turned to go down into Tangier. But as he turned +he saw Charnock watching him. On the instant his hand went to his hood +and drew it close about his cheeks, but not before Charnock had seen a +scared face flashed at him for a moment, and immediately withdrawn. +The Moor went down the lane. + +"Perhaps it was he who told?" said Charnock. + +Hamet disagreed. + +"He would not know. His beard was fair, so he comes from Fez." +Charnock, too, had remarked that the man was fair-haired. But +nevertheless this encounter of the rich Moor and the beggar remained +in his thoughts, and he allowed his imagination lazily to fix a +picture of it in his mind. Thus occupied, he walked through the +cemetery, taking in that way a short cut to the Sok. But he was not +half-way across the cemetery when he turned sharply towards Hamet. + +"Do you remember the tune the Moor hummed?" + +Charnock's ear was slow to retain the memory of music. Hamet, however, +promptly whistled the melody from beginning to end, while Charnock +stood and took count of it. + +"I shall have forgotten it to-morrow," said Hamet. + +"I think now that I shall recollect it tomorrow," said Charnock, and +he walked on. + +But in a moment or two he stopped again as though some new perplexity +was present to his mind. + +"Hamet," he said, "before the Moor appeared at all, while his +footsteps were still faint, certainly before he spoke, Hassan Akbar +stopped his prayer, which you say he never stops. He knew then who was +coming. At all events he suspected. How did he know? How did he +suspect?" + +"There is the Sok," replied Hamet. + +They had passed round the bend of the hill up which the cemetery +slopes, and were come within view of the market-place. Charnock was +puzzled by his unanswered question, and the question was forced to his +notice again that afternoon, and with yet greater force. + +It was market-day. Charnock beheld stretched out beneath him a great +field, or rather a great plain, (for the grass was long since trampled +into mud,) which curved down to the yellow sun-baked wall of the city, +and whereon an innumerable throng, Negroes from Timbuctoo, Arabs, +Jews, and Moors, in all manner of raiment, from rags to coloured +robes, jostled and seethed, bawled and sweated, under a hot sun and in +a brilliant air. Here an old hag screamed aloud the virtues of her +merchandise, a few skinny onions and vegetables; there two men forced +a passage with blows of their sticks, and behind them a stately train +of camels brought in from the uplands their loads of dates. A Riffian +sauntered by with an indifferent air, his silver-mounted gun upon his +back, a pair of pistols in his belt, and a great coarse tail of hair +swinging between his shoulders. He needed no couriers to prepare his +way. At one spot a serpent-charmer thrust out his tongue, from which a +snake was hanging by the fangs; at another a story-teller, vivid in +narration, and of an extraordinary aptness in his gestures, held an +audience enchained. From every side the din of human voices rose into +the air, and to the din was added the snarling of camels, the braying +of donkeys, the bleating of sheep, the lowing of oxen, and all manner +of squeals and grunts, so that it seemed the whole brute creation had +combined to make one discordant orchestra. + +Into this Babel Charnock descended. + +"Those are the shoemakers," said Hamet. He pointed to a cluster of +tiny grimed gunny-bag tents in a corner of the highest part of the +Sok. In the doorways of the tents a few men sat cobbling; one or two +wood fires crackled in the intervals between the tents; and in close +proximity a dead mule took its last unsavoury sleep. + +"Hassan Akbar sleeps in the mud near to the tents," continued Hamet. +"Every evening he comes down to the Sok, buys milk and bread from the +shoemakers, and sleeps--" + +"Near to that mule!" interrupted Charnock. "And he was the richest man +in all Tangier." + +A moment later there was shown to him the second picture which he was +to carry away from Tangier. Down the Sok, through the crowd, came the +Moor, in his spotless robes, and a few yards behind him, striding +swiftly and noiselessly, the blind gaunt beggar of the cemetery gate +followed upon his trail. In and out amongst the shifting groups he +threaded and wound, and never erred in his pursuit. The man in whose +track he kept never spoke when all were shouting, yet Hassan never +faltered. The sound of his footsteps was lost in a multitude of the +like sounds, yet Hassan was somehow sensible of it, somehow to his +ears it emerged distinct. + +Charnock was amazed; in a way too he was chilled. It seemed uncanny +that this sightless creature of the impassive face should be able to +follow, follow, follow relentlessly, unswervingly, one silent man +amongst the noisy hundreds. Charnock walked for a few yards by Hassan +Akbar's side, keeping pace with him. Even with his eyes fixed upon the +Moor in front, even though he saw his feet tread the ground, he could +not distinguish his footfalls. How then could Hassan? + +Tracker and Tracked passed from the Sok under the archway of the gate, +and Charnock dismissing Hamet walked down towards his hotel near the +waterside. However, he missed his road. He turned through the horse +market, descended the steep street, past the great Mosque, and walked +along a narrow, crooked alley between blank and yellow walls, which +ended in a tunnel beneath over-arching houses. Almost within the mouth +of this tunnel there was a shop, or so it seemed, for a stuffed jackal +swung above the door as a sign. Before this shop Charnock halted with +a thrill of excitement. The door of the shop was shut, the unglazed +window was shuttered. It was not on that account that Charnock +stopped; but underneath the shuttered window, his head almost touching +the sill, Hassan squatted on the cobbles fingering now and then a +silver dollar. + +Inside the door a bolt grated, the door opened, and a stout, +undersized European appeared in the entrance, polished a pair of +glasses, set them upon his nose, glanced up and down the street, +closed the door behind him, and taking no heed whatever of the blind +man under his window, walked briskly into the tunnel. He walked with a +short, tripping, and jaunty step. + +Charnock waited while the echo of it diminished and ceased, and the +moment it had ceased he saw Hassan, without any hurry, without any +sign of expectation or excitement, rise slowly to his feet and move +along the house wall towards the door. His right elbow scraped the +plaster; then his elbow touched nothing. He had come to the recess of +the door, and he stopped. + +It flashed upon Charnock that he had not heard the bolt again grate +into its socket. The door was then only latched and--was Hassan's +quarry behind its panels? + +The affair had ceased to be a toy with which Charnock's imagination +could idly play. He strode across the alley and planted himself face +to face with Hassan. Hassan quietly and immediately murmured a request +for alms and stretched out his left hand, a supple, corded hand, with +long sinuous fingers, a hand of great strength. But as he spoke he +drew within the recess of the door, and Charnock noticed his right +hand steal up the panels feeling for the latch. + +Made by this seemingly passionless and apathetic man, the secret +movement shocked Charnock. It seemed to him at that moment so +cold-blooded as to be almost inhuman. + +"Look out!" he shouted through the door and in broad English, +forgetting that the man for whom his warning was intended was a Moor. +But the warning had its effect. There was a heavy blow upon the door, +as though a man's shoulder lurched against it, and then the bolt +grated into the socket. Hassan Akbar walked on repeating his prayer +for alms, as if his hand had never for an instant stolen up the panel +and felt for the latch. + +Charnock, to make his warning the more complete, rapped on the door +for admission, once, twice, thrice. But he got no answer. He leaned +his ear to the panel. He could detect not so much as a foot stirring. +Absolute silence reigned in that dark and shuttered room. + +Charnock walked back to his hotel. On the way he passed the end of the +pier, where he saw the little Frenchman bargaining with the owner of a +felucca. His excitement gradually died down. It occurred to him that +there might have been no grounds at all for any excitement. Hassan +Akbar might have been following through the Sok by mere accident. He +might have tried the door in pursuit of nothing more than alms; and in +a little the whole incident ceased to trouble his speculations. He +crossed the Straits to Gibraltar the next morning, and waited there +for two days until the P. and O. came in. It was on the P. and O. that +he first fell in with Major Wilbraham. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + TREATS OF A GENTLEMAN WITH AN AGREEABLE COUNTENANCE, AND OF A + WOMAN'S FACE IN A MIRROR + + +Major Ambrose Wilbraham had embarked at Marseilles, and before the +boat reached Gibraltar he had made the acquaintance of everyone on +board, and had managed to exchange cards with a good many. The steamer +was still within sight of Gibraltar when he introduced himself to +Charnock with a manner of effusive jocularity to which Charnock did +not respond. The Major was tall and about forty years of age. A thin +crop of black hair was plastered upon his head; he wore a moustache +which was turning grey; his eyebrows were so faultlessly regular that +they seemed to have been stencilled on his forehead, and underneath +them a pair of cold beady eyes counterfeited friendliness. Charnock +could not call to mind that he had ever met a man on whom geniality +sat with so ill a grace, or one whose acquaintance he less desired to +improve. + +Major Wilbraham, however, was not easily rebuffed, and he walked the +deck by Charnock's side, talkative and unabashed. + +Off the coast of Portugal the boat made bad weather, and she laboured +through the cross-seas of the Bay under a strong south-westerly wind. +Off Ushant she picked up a brigantine which Charnock watched from the +hurricane deck without premonition, and indeed without more than a +passing curiosity. + +"Fine lines, eh, Charnock old fellow!" said a voice at his elbow. + +The brigantine dipped her head into a roller, lifted it, and shook the +water off her decks in a cascade of snow. + +"I have seen none finer," answered Charnock, "except on a racing-yacht +or a destroyer." + +"She's almost familiar to me," speculated the Major. + +"She reminds me of some boats I saw once at the West Indies," returned +Charnock, "built for the fruit-trade, and so built for speed. Only +they were schooners--from Salcombe, I believe. The Salcombe clippers +they were called." + +"Indeed!" said the Major, with a sharp interest, and he leaned forward +over the rail. "Now I wonder what her name is." + +Charnock held a pair of binoculars in his hand. He gave them to the +Major. Wilbraham raised them to his eyes while the P. and O. closed +upon the sailing-boat. The brigantine slid down the slope of a wave +and hoisted her stern. + +"The 'Tarifa,'" said the Major, and he shut up the binoculars. "What +is her tonnage, do you think?" + +"About three hundred, I should say." + +"My notion precisely. Would it be of any advantage to alter her rig, +supposing that she was one of the Salcombe schooners?" + +"I should hardly think so," replied Charnock. "I rather understood +that the schooners were noted boats." + +"Ah, that's interesting," said Wilbraham, and he returned the +binoculars. The steamer was now abreast of the brigantine, and in a +little it drew ahead. + +"By the way, Charnock, I shall hope to see more of you," resumed Major +Wilbraham. "I haven't given you a card, have I?" + +He produced a well-worn card-case. + +"It's very kind of you," said Charnock, as he twirled the card between +his forefinger and his thumb. "Don't you," he added, "find cards +rather a heavy item in your expenses?" + +Major Wilbraham laughed noisily. + +"I take you, dear friend," he exclaimed, "I take you. But a friend in +this world, sir, is a golden thread in a very dusty cobweb." + +"But the friendship is rather a one-sided arrangement," rejoined +Charnock. "For instance, the cards you give, Major Wilbraham, bear no +address, the cards you receive, do." And while showing the card to his +companion, he inadvertently dropped it into the sea. + +Major Wilbraham blamed the negligence of a rascally printer, and made +his way to the smoking-room. + +The P. and O. boat touched at Plymouth the next morning, and landed +both Major Wilbraham and Charnock. The latter remained in Plymouth for +two days, and on the morning of the third day hired a hansom cab, and +so met with the last of those incidents which were to link him in such +close, strange ties with the fortunes of men and women who even in +name were then utterly unknown to him. + +A yellow handbill had led Charnock across the Straits to Tangier, and +now it was nothing more serious than a draft upon Lloyd's bank which +took him in a hansom cab through the streets of Plymouth. Spring was +in the air; Charnock felt exceedingly light-hearted and cheerful. On +the way he unconsciously worked his little finger into the eye of the +brass bracket which juts inwards on each side of the front window at +the level of the shoulder; and when the cab stopped in front of the +bank he discovered that his finger was securely jammed. + +Across the road he noticed a chemist's shop, and descending the steps +of the bank a fair-haired gentleman of an agreeable countenance, who, +quite appropriately in that town of sailors, had something of a +nautical aspect. + +"Sir," began Charnock, politely, as he leaned out of the window, "I +shall be much obliged--" + +To Charnock's surprise the good-natured gentleman precipitately sprang +down the steps and began to walk rapidly away. Charnock was +sufficiently human and therefore sufficiently perverse to become at +once convinced that although there were others passing, this reluctant +man was the only person in the world who could and must help him from +his predicament. + +So he leaned yet farther out of the cab. + +"Hi, you sir!" he shouted, "you who are running away!" + +The words had an electrical effect. The man of the agreeable +countenance stopped suddenly, and so stood with his back towards +Charnock while gently and thoughtfully he nodded his head. It seemed +to Charnock that he might perhaps be counting over the voices with +which he was familiar. + +"Well," cried Charnock, who was becoming exasperated, "my dear sir, am +I to wait for you all day?" + +The street was populous with the morning traffic of a business +quarter. Curious people stopped and attracted others. In a very few +moments a small crowd would have formed. The stranger thereupon came +slowly back to the hansom, showing a face which was no longer +agreeable. He set a foot upon the step of the cab, and fixed a blue +and watchful eye upon Charnock. + +"I am afraid," said the latter, with severity, "that my first +impression of you was wrong." + +An indescribable relief was expressed by the other, but he spoke with +surliness. + +"You mistook me for someone else?" + +"I mistook your disposition for something else," Charnock affably +corrected. "I expected to find you a person of great good-nature." + +"You hardly made such a point of summoning a perfect stranger," and +here the blue eyes became very wary, "for no other reason than to tell +him that." + +"Certainly not," returned Charnock; "I would not trespass upon your +time, which seems to be extremely valuable, without a better reason. +But my finger is fixed, as you can see, in this brass ring, and I +cannot withdraw it. So if you would kindly cross over to the chemist +and buy me a pennyworth of vaseline, I shall be more than obliged." +And with the hand which was free he felt in his pocket for a penny and +held it out. + +A look of utter incredulity showed upon the listener's face. + +"Do you mean to tell me--" he blurted out. + +"That I ask you to be my good Samaritan? Yes." + +The stranger's face became suddenly vindictive. "Vaseline!" he cried. + +"A pennyworth," said Charnock, again offering the penny. + +The man of the agreeable countenance struck Charnock's hand violently +aside, and the penny flew into a gutter. He stood up on the step and +thrust his face, which was now inflamed with fury, into the cab. + +"I tell you what," he cried, "you are a fair red-hotter, you are. Buy +you vaseline! I hope your finger will petrify. I hope you'll just sit +in that cab and rot away in your boots, until you have to ante up in +kingdom come." He added expletives to his anathema. + +"Really," said Charnock, "if I was a lady I don't think that I should +like to listen to you any longer." + +But before Charnock had finished the sentence, the good Samaritan, who +was no Samaritan at all, had flung himself from the cab and was +striding up the street. + +"After all," thought Charnock, "I might just as well have driven +across to the chemist, if I had only thought of it." + +This he now did, got his finger free, cashed his draft, and took the +train to London. + +During this journey the discourteous stranger occupied some part of +his thoughts. Between Charnock's eyes and the newspaper, against the +red cliffs of Teignmouth, on the green of the home counties, his face +obtruded, and for a particular reason. The marks of fear are +unmistakable. The man whom he had called, had been scared by the call, +nor had his fear quite left him when he had come face to face with +Charnock. Set features which strove to conceal, and a brightness of +the eye which betrayed emotion, these things Charnock remembered very +clearly. + +In London he dined alone at his hotel, and over against him the +stranger's face bore him company. He went out afterwards into the +street, and amidst the myriad ringing feet, was seized with an utter +sense of loneliness, more poignant, more complete, than he had ever +experienced in the waste places of the world. The lights of a theatre +attracted him. He paid his money, took a seat in the stalls, and was +at once very worried and perplexed. He turned to his neighbour, who +was boisterously laughing. + +"Would you mind telling me what this play is?" he asked. + +"Oh, it's a musical comedy." + +"I see. But what is it about?" + +Charnock's neighbour scratched his head thoughtfully. + +"I ought to remember," he said, "for I saw the piece early in the +run." + +Charnock went out, crossed a street, and came to another theatre, +where he saw a good half of the tragedy of _Macbeth_. Thence he +returned to his hotel and went to bed. + +The hotel was one of many balconies, situated upon the Embankment. +From the single window or his bedroom Charnock looked across the river +to where the name of a brewery perpetually wrote itself in red +brilliant letters which perpetually vanished. It was his habit to +sleep not merely with his window open, but with the blinds drawn up +and the curtains looped back, and these arrangements he made as usual +before he got into bed. + +Now, the looking-glass stood upon a dressing-table in the window, with +its back towards the window-panes; and since the night was moonless +and dark, this mirror, it should be remembered, reflected nothing of +the room or its furniture, but presented only to the view of Charnock, +as he lay in bed, a surface of a black sheen. + +Charnock recurred to his adventure of the morning, and thus the +abusive stranger was in his thoughts when he fell asleep. He figured +also in his dreams. + +For, after he had fallen asleep, a curtain was raised upon a fantastic +_revue_ of the past week. Hassan Akbar strode quickly and noiselessly +behind his quarry, tracking him by some inappreciable faculty, not +through the muddy Sok, but across the polished floor of the ball-room +in the musical comedy. Again Charnock shouted "Look out!" and the Moor +with one bound leapt from the ball-room, which was now become a +landing-stage, into a felucca. The crew of the felucca, it now +appeared, was made up of Charnock, Lady Macbeth, and Hassan Akbar, and +by casting lots with counters made of vaseline, Charnock was appointed +to hold the tiller. This duty compelled extraordinary care, for the +felucca would keep changing its rig and the bulk of its hull swelled +and dwindled. At last, to Charnock's intense relief, the boat settled +into a Salcombe clipper with the rig of a P. and O., but with +immeasurably greater speed, so that within a very few seconds they +sailed over a limitless ocean and anchored at Tangier. At once the +crew entirely vanished. Charnock was not distressed, because he saw a +hansom cab waiting for him at the Customs, though how the hansom was +to pass up those narrow cobbled streets he could not think. That +however was the driver's business. + +"I hope your horse is good," said Charnock, springing into the cab. + +"She comes of the great Red-hotter stock," replied the cabman, and +lifting the trap in the roof he showered packets of visiting cards, +which fell about Charnock like flakes of snow. + +Charnock had not previously noticed that the cabman was Major +Wilbraham. + +The cab shot up the hill through the tunnel, past the closed shop. A +figure sprang from the ground and thrust a face through the window of +the cab. The man was in Moorish dress, but the face was the face of +the abusive stranger of Plymouth--and all at once Charnock started up +on his elbow, and in the smallest fraction of a second was intensely +and vividly awake. There was no sound at all within the room. But in +the black sheen of the mirror he saw a woman's face. + +He saw it quite clearly for perhaps five seconds, the face rising +white from the white column of the throat, the dark and weighty +coronal of the hair, the curved lips which alone had any colour, the +eyes, deep and troubled, which seemed to hint a prayer for help which +they disdained to make--for five seconds perhaps the illusion +remained, for five seconds the face looked out at him from the black +mirror, lit palely, as it seemed, by its own pallor, and so vanished. + +Charnock remained propped upon his elbow. A faint twilight from the +stars crept timidly through the open window as though deprecating its +intrusion. Charnock looked into the dark corners of the room, but +nowhere did the darkness move. Nor could he hear any sound. Not even a +board of the floor cracked, and outside the door there was no noise of +a footstep on the stairs. Then from a great distance the jingle of a +cab came through the open window to his ears with a light +companionable lilt. Gradually the sound ceased, and again the silence +breathed about him. Charnock struck a match and looked at his watch. +It was a few minutes after three. + +Charnock lay back in his bed wondering. For he had seen that face +once, he had once exchanged glances with those eyes, once only, six +years ago, and thereafter had entirely forgotten the incident--until +this moment. He had stopped for a night at Monte Carlo and had +seen--the girl--yes, the _girl_, though it was a woman's face which +had gleamed in the depths of his mirror--standing under the green +shaded lamps in the big gambling-room. His attention, he now +remembered, had been seized by the contrast between her amused +indifference and the feverish haste of the gamblers about the table; +between her fresh, clear looks and their heated complexions,--even +between her frock of lilac silk and their more elaborate toilettes. +The girl was entirely happy then, the red lips smiled, the violet eyes +laughed. Why should her face appear to him now, after these years, and +paled by this distress? + +A queer fancy slipped into his mind--a fancy at the extravagance of +which he knew very well he should laugh in the sane light of the +morning, though he indulged it now--that somehow, somewhere, this +woman needed help, and that it was thus vouchsafed to her, a stranger, +to make her appeal to him in this way, which spared her the +humiliation of making any appeal at all. Charnock fell asleep +convinced that somehow, somewhere, he was destined to meet and know +her. As he had foreseen, he laughed at his fancies in the morning, but +nevertheless, he did meet her. It had, in fact, already been arranged +that he should. For the face which he saw in the mirror was the face +of Miranda Warriner. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + TREATS OF THE FIRST MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA + + +Lady Donnisthorpe, with a sigh of relief, retired from her position at +the head of the stairs, and catching Charnock in the interval between +two dances:-- + +"You kept some dances free," she said, "didn't you? I want to +introduce you to a cousin of mine, Miranda Warriner, because she lives +at Ronda." + +"At Ronda. Indeed?" + +"Yes." Her ladyship added with a magnificent air of indifference, "She +is a widow," and she led Charnock across the ball-room. + +Miranda saw them approaching, noticed an indefinable air of +expectation in Lady Donnisthorpe's manner, and smiled. A few +excessively casual remarks concerning one Mr. Charnock, which Lady +Donnisthorpe had dropped during the last few days, had not escaped the +notice of Miranda, who was aware of her cousin's particular weakness. +This was undoubtedly Mr. Charnock. She raised her eyes towards him, +and had her ladyship been less fluttered, she might have remarked that +Miranda's eyes lit up with a momentary sparkle of recognition. + +"Mrs. Warriner--Mr. Charnock." + +Lady Donnisthorpe effected the momentous introduction and felt +immediately damped. She had not indeed expected that her two newest +victims would at once and publicly embrace. But at all events she had +decked out her ball-room as the sacrificial altar, and had taken care +that a fitting company and cheerful music should do credit to the +immolation. This tame indifference was less than she deserved. + +Miranda, to whom Lady Donnisthorpe was looking, made the perfunctory +dip of the head and smiled the perfunctory smile, and Charnock--why in +the world did he not move or speak? Lady Donnisthorpe turned her eyes +from Miranda to this awkward cavalier, and was restored to a radiant +good-humour. "Dazzled," she said to herself, "absolutely dazzled!" For +Charnock stood rooted to the ground and tongue-tied with amazement. + +It was fortunate for Lady Donnisthorpe that at this point she thought +it wise to withdraw. Otherwise she would surely have remarked an +unmistakable look of disappointment which grew within Charnock's eyes +and spread out over his face. Then the disappointment vanished, and as +he compared programmes with Miranda, he recovered his speech. + +Four dances must intervene before he could claim her, and Charnock was +glad of the interval to get the better of his bewilderment. Here was +the woman whom his mirror had shown to him! After all, his nocturnal +fancy was fulfilled, or rather part of it, only part or it. He had met +her, he was to dance with her. Some miracle had brought them together. +From the corner by the doorway he watched Miranda, he remarked an +unaffected friendliness in her manner towards her partners. Candour +was written upon her broad white forehead and looked out from her +clear eyes. He had no doubt it was fragrant too in her hair. There +were heavy masses of that hair, as he knew very well from his mirror, +but now the masses were piled and woven about her head with a cunning +art, which to be sure they deserved. There was a ripple in her hair, +too, which caught the light--a most taking ripple. Here was a woman +divested of a girl's wiles and vanities. Charnock, without a scruple, +aspersed all girls up to the age of say twenty-four, that he might +give her greater praise. + +He fell to wondering, not how it was that her face had appeared to +him, nor by what miracle he was now enabled to have knowledge of her, +but rather by what miracle of forgetfulness he had allowed her face, +after he had seen it that one time six years ago, ever to slip from +his thoughts, or her eyes after that one time he had exchanged a +glance with them. + +The whirl of the dance carried her by his corner. She swung past him +with the lightest imaginable step, and he was suddenly struck through +and through with a chilling apprehension that by some unconscionable +maladroitness he would surely tread upon her toes. + +At once he proceeded to count over the dances in which he had borne +himself with credit. He had danced with Spanish women, he assured +himself, and they had not objected. He was thus consoling himself when +the time came for him to lead her out. And the touch of her hand in +his, he remembers, turned him into a babbling idiot. + +He recollects that they danced with great celerity; that they passed +Lady Donnisthorpe, who smiled at him with great encouragement, and +that he was dolefully humorous concerning Major Wilbraham and his +exchanges of cards, though why Major Wilbraham should have thrust his +bald head into the conversation, he was ever at a loss to discover. +And then Miranda said, "Shall we stop?" + +"Oh, I didn't, did I?" exclaimed the horror-stricken Charnock, as he +looked downwards at her toes. + +"No, you didn't," Miranda assured him with a laugh. "Do you usually?" + +"No," he declared vehemently, "believe me, no! Never, upon my word! I +have danced with Spanish women,--not at all,--no--no--no--no." + +"Quite so," said Miranda. + +And they laughed suddenly each to the other, and in a moment they were +friends. Conversation came easily to their tongues, and underneath the +surface of their light talk, the deeps of character called steadily +like to like. + +"I have seen you once before, Mrs. Warriner," said Charnock, as they +seated themselves in an alcove of the room. + +"Yes," she returned promptly, "at Monte Carlo, six years ago," and her +face lost its look of enjoyment and darkened with some shadow from her +memories. The change was, however, unremarked by Charnock. + +"It seems strange," he said in an absent voice, "that we should meet +first of all in a gambling-room, and the next time at a ball." + +"Why?" + +The question could not be answered. Charnock had a real but +inexplicable feeling that Miranda and he should have met somewhere +amidst the grandeur of open spaces, in the centre of the Sahara, and +for the moment he forgot to calculate the effect of the sand upon +Miranda's eyes. This feeling, however, he could hardly express at the +present point of their acquaintanceship; and, indeed, he immediately +ceased to be aware of it. + +"Do you actually remember our meeting in that way six years ago?" he +exclaimed. "How wonderful of you!" + +"Why?" again asked Mrs. Warriner. "Why is it wonderful, since you +remember it?" + +"Ah, but I didn't remember it until"--he paused for a second or +two--"until I saw your face in a looking-glass." + +Miranda glanced at him in considerable perplexity. Then she said with +a demure smile, "I have at times seen it there myself." + +"No doubt," he replied with a glance at the cunning arrangement of her +hair. + +"My maid does that," said she, biting her lip. + +"No doubt, but you sit in front of the glass at the time. You're in +the room," he continued hastily; "but when I saw your face in my +mirror, you couldn't be. I was in bed,--I mean,--let me tell you!" He +stopped, overwhelmed with embarrassment. Miranda, with an air of +complete unconsciousness, carefully buttoned her glove; only the glove +was already buttoned, and her mouth twitched slightly at the corners. + +"It was just a week ago to-day," Charnock began again. "I got home to +my hotel late." + +"Ah!" murmured Mrs. Warriner, as though the whole mystery was now +explained to her. + +"I assure you," he retorted with emphasis, "that I dined in the train +and drank nothing more serious than railway claret." + +"I made no accusation whatever," Miranda blandly remarked, and seemed +very well pleased. + +"After I had fallen asleep, I began to dream, but not about you, Mrs. +Warriner; that's the strange feature of the business. It wasn't that I +had been thinking of you that evening, or indeed, that I had ever been +at all in the habit of thinking--" Again Charnock was utterly +confused. "I don't seem to be telling the story with the best taste in +the world, do I?" he said ruefully. + +"Never mind," she said in a soothing voice. + +"Of course, I could have turned it into a compliment," he continued. +"Only I take it you have no taste for compliments, and I lack the +experience to put them tactfully." + +"For a novice," said she, "you seem to be doing very well." Charnock +resumed his story. "I dreamt solely of people I had seen, and +incidents I had witnessed during the last week, at Tangier and at +Plymouth. I dreamed particularly of a man I quarrelled with at +Plymouth, and I suddenly woke up and saw your face in the mirror." + +"As you fancied." + +"It was no fancy. It was no dream-face that I saw--dream-faces are +always elusive. It was no dream-face, it was yours." + +"Or one like mine." + +"There cannot be two." + +"For a novice," repeated Miranda, with a smile, "you _are_ doing very +well." + +Charnock had watched her carefully while he told his story, on the +chance that her looks, if not her lips, might give him some clue to +the comprehension of his mysterious vision. But she had expressed +merely an unconcerned curiosity and some amusement. + +"Shall I explain your vision?" said she. "You must have seen me in +London during the day: the recollection that you had seen me must have +lain latent, so that when you woke up you saw me in your mirror and +did not remember that you had seen me during the day." + +"Were you at any theatre this day week?" + +"No," said Miranda, after counting over the days. + +"You did not see _Macbeth_ that night?" + +"No." + +"Then it is impossible I should have seen you. For I came up from +Plymouth only that afternoon. I drove from Paddington to my hotel; +from the hotel I went to the theatre; from the theatre I walked back +to the hotel. It is impossible." + +"It is very strange," said Miranda, whose interest was increasing, and +whose sense of amusement had vanished; for she saw that her companion +was moved by something more than curiosity. It was evident to her from +his urgent tones, from the eagerness of his face, that he had some +hidden reason for his desire to fathom the mystery. It seemed to her +that he nourished some intention, some purpose in the back of his +mind, which depended for fulfilment upon whether or no there was any +feasible solution. + +"Tell me your dream," she said. + +"It was the oddest jumble,--it had neither sense nor continuity. Moors +figured in it, ships, Lady Macbeth, the Major with his card-case, and +the stranger who swore at me through the cab-window at Plymouth. The +phrases that man used came into it." + +"What phrases?" + +"I couldn't repeat to you the most eloquent. There were milder ones, +however. He called me a fair red-hotter amongst other things," said +Charnock, laughing at his recollections, "and expressed a wish that I +might--well, sit in that cab until I ante'd up in kingdom come." + +Miranda leaned back in her seat and opened and shut her fan. "He was a +stranger to you, you say?" + +"Quite." + +"You are sure?" + +"Quite." + +"You had never seen him anywhere--anywhere? Think!" + +Charnock deliberated for a few seconds. "Never anywhere," he replied. + +There was a moment's silence. Mrs. Warriner gently fanned herself as +she leaned back in the shadow of the alcove. "Describe him to me," she +said quietly. + +"A man of a slight figure, a little under the middle height, fair +hair, bright blue eyes, an open, good-natured face, and I should say a +year or so under forty. I took him to be a sailor." + +The fan stopped. Miranda let it fall upon her lap. That was the only +movement which she made, and from the shadow of the recess, she said: +"There is no explanation." + +Charnock drew a breath and leaned forward, his hands clasped, his +elbows on his knees. It seemed he had been waiting for just that one +sentence. As he sat now his face was in the light, and Miranda +remarked a certain timidity upon it, as though now that he had heard +the expected words, he dared not after all reply to them. He did not +look towards her. He stared at the dancers, but with vacant eyes. He +saw nothing of their jewels, or their coloured robes, or the flash of +their silver feet, and the noise of their chatter sounded very dimly +in his ears. He was quite occupied, indeed, with the hardihood of what +he had it on his tongue's tip to say--when he had gained sufficient +courage. + +Miranda moved restlessly, unbuttoned a glove, drew it off her wrist +unconsciously, and then was still as Charnock began to speak. + +"Is there no explanation?" he asked. "I imagined one. You know how +fancies come to one in the dark. That night I imagined one. I laughed +at it the next morning, but now, since I have talked with you, I have +been wondering whether by any miracle, it might be true. And if +there's an infinitesimal chance that it's true, I think that I ought +to tell you it, even though it may seem merely ridiculous, even though +it may offend you. But I have lived for the most part of my time, +since I was a man, in the waste places of the earth, and what may well +be an impertinence--for we are only these few minutes acquainted--you +will perhaps pardon on that account." + +He received no encouragement to continue; on the other hand he +received no warning to stop, for Miranda neither spoke nor moved. He +did not look at her face lest he should read the warning there; but +from the tail of his eye, he could see the fan, the white glove lying +idle upon the black satin of her dress. The skirt hung from her knee +to her foot without a stir in its folds, nor did her foot stir where +it showed beneath the hem. She remained in a pose of most enigmatical +quietude. + +"The face which my mirror showed to me," he went on, "was your face, +as I said; but in expression it was not your face as I see it +to-night. It was very troubled, it was very pale; the eyes haunted me +because of the pain in them, and because of--something else beside. It +was a tortured face I saw, and the eyes seemed to ask--but to ask +proudly--for help. Is it plain, the explanation which occurred to me?" +His voice sank; he went on, slowly choosing every word with care, and +speaking it with hesitation. "I imagined that out of all the millions +of women in the world, here was one who needed help--my help, who was +allowed to appeal to me for it, without, if you understand, making any +appeal at all, and the explanation was not ... unpleasant ... to a man +who lives much alone. In fact it has been so pleasant, and has become +so familiar during this last week, that when I saw you to-night +without a care, just as I saw you that night at Monte Carlo," and +indeed it seemed to Charnock that the black dress she wore alone +marked the passage of those six years,--"I am ashamed to say that I +was disappointed." + +"Yes," said Miranda. "I noticed the disappointment, but there's a +simpler explanation of the troubled face than yours. You had been to +_Macbeth_ that evening; Lady Macbeth played a part in your dreams. +What if Lady Macbeth lent her pallor and her distress to the face +which you saw in your mirror?" + +Charnock swung abruptly round towards her. It was not the explanation +which surprised him, but the altered voice she used. And if her voice +surprised him, he was shocked and startled by her looks. She was still +leaning back in the shadow of the alcove, and her head rested against +the dark wood-panels. She did not move when he looked towards her. + +"My God," he said in a hushed and trembling whisper, and she gave no +sign that she heard. She might have fainted, but that her eyes +glittered out of the shadow straight and steadily into his. She might +be dead from the whiteness of her face against the panels, but that +her bosom rose and fell. + +"What can I do?" he exclaimed. + +"Hush!" she replied, and rose to her feet. "Here is Lady +Donnisthorpe." She walked abruptly past him across the room to the +open window. Charnock remained nailed to the ground, following her +with his eyes. For in that alcove, leaning against the dark panels, he +had seen not merely the features, but the expression on the features, +he had seen exact in every detail the face which he had seen in the +polished darkness of his mirror. The sheen of the dark polished panels +helped the illusion. His fancy had come true, was transmuted into +fact. Somewhere, somehow, he was to meet that woman. He had met her +here and in this way, and her eyes and her face uttered her distress +as with a piercing cry. Her eyes! The resemblance was perfect to the +last detail. For Charnock ventured to surmise in them the same +involuntary appeal which he had seen in the eyes that had looked out +from his mirror. What then if the rest were true? What if his +explanation was as true as the true facts which it explained? What if +it was given to him and to her to stand apart from their fellows in +this mysterious relation?... + +He saw that Miranda was already near the window, that Lady +Donnisthorpe was approaching him. He followed instantly in Miranda's +steps, and Lady Donnisthorpe, perceiving his attention, had the +complaisance to turn aside. For the window opened on to a balcony +wherein discreet palms sheltered off a nook. There was one of Lady +Donnisthorpe's guests who did not share her ladyship's complacency. A +censorious dowager sitting near to the window had kept an alert eye +upon the couple in the recess during the last three dances; and each +time that her daughter--a pretty girl with hair of the palest possible +gold, and light blue eyes that were dancing with a child's delight at +all the wonders of a first season--returned to the shelter of her +portly frame, the dowager drew moral lessons for her benefit from the +text of the oblivious couple. She remarked with pain upon their +increasing infatuation for each other; she pointed out to her daughter +a hapless youth who tiptoed backwards and forwards before Mrs. +Warriner, with a dance-card in his hand, too timorous to interrupt the +intimate conversation; and when Mrs. Warriner dropped a glove as she +stepped over the window-sill on to the balcony, the dowager nudged her +daughter with an elbow. + +"Now, Mabel, there's a coquette," she said. + +Charnock was close behind, and overheard the triumphant remark. + +"I beg your pardon," he said politely, "it was the purest accident." + +The dowager bridled; her face grew red; she raised her tortoiseshell +glasses and annihilated Charnock with a single stare. Charnock had the +audacity to smile. He stooped and picked up the glove. Mrs. Warriner +had indeed dropped the glove by accident; but since it fell in +Charnock's way and since he picked it up, it was to prove, like the +handbill at Gibraltar and the draft on Lloyd's bank, a thing trivial +in itself, but the opportunity of strange events. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + WHEREIN CHARNOCK AND MIRANDA IMPROVE + THEIR ACQUAINTANCESHIP IN A BALCONY + + +Lady Donnisthorpe's house stood in Queen Anne's Gate, and the balcony +overlooked St. James's Park. There Charnock found Miranda; he leaned +his elbows upon the iron balustrade, and for a while neither of them +spoke. It was a clear night of early June, odorous with messages of +hedgerows along country lanes and uplands of young grass, and of bells +ringing over meadows. In front of them the dark trees of the Park +rippled and whispered to the stray breaths of wind; between the trees +one line of colourless lamps marked the footpath across the bridge to +the Mall; and the carriages on the outer roadway ringed that enclosure +of thickets and lawns with flitting sparks of fire. + +Charnock was still holding the glove which he had picked up on the +window-sill. + +"That's mine," said Miranda; "thank you," and she stretched out her +hand for it. + +"Yes," said Charnock, absently, and he drew the glove through his +fingers. It was a delicate trifle of white kid; he smoothed it, and +his hand had the light touch of a caress. "Miranda," he said softly +but distinctly, and lingered on the word as though the sound pleased +him. + +Miranda started and then sank back again in her chair with a quiet +smile. Very likely she blushed at this familiar utterance of her name, +and at the caressing movement of his hand which accompanied and +perhaps interpreted the utterance, or perhaps it was only at a certain +throb of her own heart that she blushed. At all events, the darkness +concealed the blush, and Charnock was not looking in her direction. + +The freshness of the night air had restored her, but she was very +willing to sit there in silence so long as no questions were asked of +her, and Charnock had rather the air of one who works out a private +problem for himself than one who seeks the answer from another. + +The clock upon Westminster tower boomed the hour of twelve. Miranda +noticed that Charnock raised his head and listened to the twelve heavy +strokes with a smile. His manner was that of a man who comes +unexpectedly upon some memento of an almost forgotten time. + +"That is a familiar sound to you," said Mrs. Warriner, and she was +suddenly sensible of a great interest in all of the past life of this +man who was standing beside her. + +"Yes," said Charnock, turning round to her. + +"You lived in Westminster, then? At one time I used to stay here a +good deal. Where did you live?" + +Charnock laughed. "You would probably be no wiser if I named the +street; it is not of those which you and your friends go up and down," +he replied simply. "Yes, I lived in Westminster for three hard, +curious years." + +"It's not only the years that are curious," said Miranda, but the hint +was lost, for Charnock had turned back to the balustrade. She was +still, however, inclined to persist. The details which Lady +Donnisthorpe had sown in her mind, now bore their crop. Interested in +the man, now that she knew him, she was also interested in his career, +in his hurried migratory life, in the mystery which enveloped his +youth, and all the more because of the contrast between her youth and +his. He had lived for three years in some small back street of +Westminster; very likely she had more than once rubbed shoulders +with him in the streets on the occasions when she had come up from her +home in Suffolk. That home became instantly very distinct in her +memories--an old manor-house guarded by a moat of dark silent water, a +house or broad red-brick chimneys whereon she had known the roses to +bloom on a Christmas-day, and of leaded windows upon which the boughs +of trees continually tapped. + +"I should like to show you my home," she said with a sudden impulse, +and did not check herself before the words were spoken. "Perhaps some +day," she continued hurriedly, "you will tell me of those three years +you spent in Westminster." And she hoped that he had not heard the +first sentence of the two. + +"I will make an exchange," said Charnock. "I will exchange some day, +if you will, the history of my three years for the history of your +trouble." He turned eagerly towards her, but she held up her hand. + +"Please, please!" she said in a low, shaking voice, for her distress +had come back upon her. She had begun, if not to forget it, at all +events to dull the remembrance of it since she had come out upon the +balcony. She had, in a word, sought and found a compensation in the +new friendship of this man, and a relief in his very _naivete_. But he +had brought her anxieties back to her, as he clearly understood, for +he said: "That is the second time this evening. I am sorry." + +"The second time?" said Miranda, quickly. "Why do you say that?" + +"Am I wrong?" he asked. "Am I wrong in fearing that I myself have +brought on you the trouble which I fancied I was to avert? I should be +glad to know that I was wrong, for since I have stood here on this +balcony, that fear has been growing. Your face so changed at the story +I told you. At what point of it I do not know. I was not looking. Did +I show you some misfortune you were unaware of, and might still be +unaware of, if I had only held my tongue? In offering to shield you, +did I only strike at you? I do not know, I am in the dark." He spoke +in a voice of intense remorse, pleading for a proof that his fear was +groundless, and Miranda did not answer him at all. "I do not ask you +to speak freely now," he continued; "but sometime perhaps you will. +You see, we shall be neighbours." + +"Neighbours!" exclaimed Miranda, and her lips parted in a smile. + +"You live at Ronda, Lady Donnisthorpe tells me; my headquarters now +are at Algeciras;" and he told her briefly of his business there. + +"My cousin did not tell me that," said Miranda. + +Lady Donnisthorpe, in the wisdom of her heart, had, in fact, carefully +concealed Charnock's place of abode, thinking it best that Miranda +should learn it from Charnock's lips, and be pleasantly surprised +thereby. That Miranda was pleasantly surprised might perhaps have been +inferred by a more experienced man, from the extreme chilliness of her +reply. + +"Ronda is at the top," she said, "Algeciras at the bottom, and there +are a hundred miles of hillside and cork-forest between." + +"There are also," retorted Charnock, "a hundred miles of railway." + +"Shall we go back into the room?" suggested Miranda. + +"If you wish. Only there is something else I am trying to say to you," +said Charnock, and at that Miranda laughed, and laughed with a fresh +bright trill of amusement. It broke suddenly and spontaneously from +her lips and surprised Charnock, who was at a loss to reconcile it +with the signs of her distress. He turned towards her. "What is it?" +he asked. + +"Nothing," she said hastily, "nothing at all." + +"You wished to go in?" + +"Not now,--not for the world." + +She was genuinely amused. Her eyes laughed at him in the starlight. +Charnock was very content at the change in her, though he did not at +all understand it. It made what he meant to say easier, if he could +only find the means to say it. He held the means unwittingly in his +hand, for he held Miranda's glove. It was that glove which provoked +her amusement. Charnock, with a pertinacity which was only equalled by +his absence of mind, was trying to force his hand into Mrs. Warriner's +glove. He had already succeeded in slipping the long sleeve of it over +his palm; he was now engaged in the more strenuous task of fitting his +fingers into its slender fingers, as he leaned upon the balcony. + +"You are laughing, no doubt, at my pertinacity, and it is true that +our acquaintanceship is very slight," said he. + +"In a moment you will irretrievably destroy it," said she, looking at +the glove. + +"I hope you don't mean that," he answered sadly, as he smoothed +the finger-tip of the forefinger down upon his own, and at once +proceeded to the other fingers. The little finger in particular needed +a deal of strenuous coaxing, and caused him to break up his words with +intervals of physical effort. "Because--as I say--we shall be +neighbours--there!"--The exclamation "there" meant that he was +satisfied with the third finger.--"A hundred miles of hill-side--in a +foreign country--on a map a thumb will cover it." + +"Will it cover a thumb, though?" asked Miranda, who took a feminine +interest in the durability of her glove. She leaned forward in a +delighted suspense, as Charnock proceeded to answer her question by +experiment. + +"There's the railway too," said he, as he struggled with the thumb of +the glove, "and as I say, a foreign country. Very likely, we shall be +nearer neighbours, though you are at Ronda and I am at Algeciras, than +if you lived in this house and I at the house next door. Because after +all there's one advantage in trouble of any kind. Trouble is the short +foot-path to friendship, don't you think? Like that line of lamps +across the Park." + +Miranda forgot the glove. She was touched by the deep sincerity of his +voice, by the modesty of his manner. She rose from her chair and stood +by his side at the balustrade. "Yes," she answered, looking at the +circling lights on the outer rim of the Park. "I think that is true. +It spares one the long carriage-road of ceremonial acquaintanceship. +But," she said thoughtfully, "I do not know whether after all I shall +soon return to Ronda." + +She heard a little sound of something tearing, and there was Charnock +contemplating in amazement upon his left hand a white kid glove of +which the kid was ripped across the palm. He felt in his pocket with +his right hand and drew out both of his own gloves, which he had taken +off while he was talking in the alcove. Then he looked at Miranda and +his amazement became remorse. + +"It's yours!" he said. "Of course, I picked it up. I had forgotten +even that I was holding it. I had no notion that I was putting it on." + +"I gave you fair warning," said Miranda, with a frank laugh, "but you +would not pay any attention." + +Charnock looked at her with absolute incredulity. "You mean to say +that you don't mind? You are wonderful!" + +"It seems almost too late to mind," said she, looking at the tattered +glove. + +"Or to mend," said he, ruefully, drawing it off with extreme care, and +as a new thought struck him. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "suppose it had +belonged to anyone else, the dowager in the window, for instance." He +dangled the glove in the air. "Now that's a lesson!" + +"Perhaps it's a parable," said Miranda, as she took the glove from +him. + +Charnock saw that she had grown quite serious. "If so," said he, "I +cannot expound it." + +"Shall I?" The smile had faded from her lips, her eyes shone upon his, +with no longer a sparkle of merriment, but very still, very grave. + +"Yes." + +"Well, then," she said slowly, "shall I say that no man can offer a +woman his friendship or help without doing her a hurt in some other +way?" + +His eyes as steadily answered back to hers. "Do you believe that?" he +said. He spoke quite simply without raising his voice in any way, but +none the less Mrs. Warriner was certain that she had but to say "yes," +and there would be an end, now and forever, of his questions, of his +help, of his friendship, of everything between them beyond the merest +acquaintanceship. Perhaps some day they might cross the harbour +together in the same ferry from Algeciras to Gibraltar, and bow and +exchange a careless word, but that would be all--and only that until +his work was finished there. + +"Do you believe that?" + +She was half tempted to say "yes"; but she had an instinct, a +premonition, that whatever answer she made would stretch out to +unknown and incalculable consequences. She seemed to herself to be +drawing the lots which one way or another would decide and limit all +her years to come. Upon the tiny "yes" or "no" between which she had +to make her choice, her whole life was destined to pivot. Accordingly, +she made up her mind to say neither, but to turn the matter into a +jest. "Here's the proof," said she, as lightly as she could, and she +flourished the glove. + +But the man steadily held her to his question, with his eyes, with his +voice, with his very attitude. "Do you believe that?" he repeated. + +"I don't know whether I believe it," she murmured resentfully. "I +don't see why I should be asked to mean what I say, or whether I mean +what I say.... But it might be so, I think.... I don't know.... I +don't know." + +To her relief Charnock moved. If he had stood like that, demanding an +answer with every line of his body, for another instant, she knew she +would have been compelled to answer one way or another; and she felt +certain, too, that whatever answer she gave it would have been the one +she would have wished afterwards to take back. "Now if you are +satisfied," she added with a touch of petulance, "we will go in." + +He moved aside for her to pass, but before she had time to step +forward, he moved back again and barred the way. "No, please," he said +quickly, and his voice thrilled as though he had hit upon an +inspiration. + +"Lady Donnisthorpe told me you were rather unconventional," she +remarked with a sigh, which was only half of it a jest; and she drew +back as though she did not wish to hear what he had to say, as though +she almost feared to hear it. + +But Charnock barely even remarked her reluctance. "That glove," he +said, and pointed to it. Miranda imagined that he was reaching out a +hand for it. + +"I have _heaps_ of pairs," she exclaimed, whipping it behind her back; +"there is no need to trouble about it at all." + +"I do not ask for it; I had no thought of that. On the contrary, I +would ask you to keep it if you will. There is something else which I +was trying to say, if you remember." + +"Dear, dear!" said Miranda, ruefully, "I could wish after all that you +had trodden on my toes." + +"I beg your pardon," said Charnock, and instantly he drew aside. He +left the way clear for her. She passed him, and went towards the +window, from which the lights and the music streamed out into the +night. Had he followed, she would have stepped into the room, amongst +the dancers; she would have been claimed by a partner, and she would +have seen no more of Charnock, and the only consequences of this +interview upon the balcony would have been a memory in her thoughts, a +curiosity in her speculations. + +But Charnock did not follow her. He remained where she left him, and +her feet loitered more with every step she took. At the edge of the +window she stopped. For the second time that evening she became aware +that one way or other she must do the irrevocable thing. It was a mere +step to make across the sill of the window, from the stone of the +balcony to the parquet of the ball-room floor,--a thing insignificant +in itself and in its consequences most momentous. She stood for a +second undecided. The sight of her partner looking about the room +decided her. She came back to where Charnock stood in a soldierly +rigidity. + +"You might have come half-way to meet me," she said in a whimsical +complaint, and then very gently: "I will hear what you wish to say, if +you will still say it." + +"What I mean is this," he replied; "it is what I was trying to say. +The hardest thing, if one ever wants help, is--don't you think?--the +asking for it. I could not say that to you until I had hit upon a +means by which the asking, should it ever be necessary, might be +dispensed with. And it seemed to me that there was something +providential in my tearing that glove; for that torn glove can be the +means, if ever you see fit to use it. You live at Ronda; for the next +year I am to be found at Algeciras; you will only have to send that +torn glove to me in an envelope. I shall know without a word from you; +and when I answer it by coming up to you at Ronda, it will be +understood by both of us, again without a word, why I have come. I +shall not need to speak at all; you will only need to say the precise +particular thing which needs to be done." + +Miranda stood with her eyelids closed, and her ungloved hand pressed +over her heart. The blood darkened her cheeks. Charnock saw her whole +face soften and sweeten. "I understand," she said in a low voice. "I +might appeal and be spared the humiliation of appealing, like the face +in your mirror." + +"I believe," said he, "that my mirror sent me a message on that night. +I have tried to deliver it." + +Miranda slowly raised her eyes and they glistened with something other +than the starlight. "Thank you," she said; "for the delicacy of the +thought I am most grateful. What woman would not be? But I do not +think that I shall ever send you the glove: not because I would not be +glad to owe gratitude to you, but just for the same reason which has +kept me from telling you anything of my troubles. Such as they are I +must fight them through by myself." + +This time she passed over the sill into the ballroom; but she was +holding the glove tight against her breast, and she had a feeling that +Charnock very surely knew that at some time she would send it to him. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + WHILE CHARNOCK BUILDS CASTLES IN SPAIN, + MIRANDA RETURNS THERE + + +The anxious dowager, who was preparing to depart with her daughter, +had just risen from her seat by the window as Miranda stepped over the +sill into the ball-room. She sat down again, however, for she had a +word or two to say concerning Miranda's appearance. + +"Muriel," she observed, "take a good look at that woman, and remember +that if ever you sit out with one man for half-an-hour on a cool +balcony you can make no greater mistake than to return with a flushed +face." + +"Thank you, mother," said Muriel, who was growing restive under this +instructional use of an evening party. "I will take the first +opportunity of practising your advice." + +At this moment Charnock stepped over the sill. He stepped up to Mrs. +Warriner's side and spoke to her. Mrs. Warriner stopped within a +couple of yards of the dowager and gave her hand, and with her hand +her eyes, to her companion. + +"Muriel, look!" said the censorious one. "How vulgar!" + +"Shall I listen too?" asked Muriel, innocently. + +"Do, my child, do!" said the dowager, who was impervious to sarcasm. + +What was said, however, did not reach the dowager's ears. It was, +indeed, no more than an interchange of "good-nights," but the dowager +bridled, perhaps out of disappointment that she had not heard. + +"An intriguing woman I have no doubt," said she, as through her +glasses she followed Miranda's retreat. + +"Surely she has too much dignity," objected the daughter. + +"Dignity, indeed! My child, when you know more of the world, you will +understand that the one astonishing thing about such women is not +their capacity for playing tricks but their incredible power of +retaining their self-respect while they are playing them. Now we will +go." + +The dowager's voice was a high one. It carried her words clearly to +Charnock, who had not as yet moved. He laughed at them then with +entire incredulity, but he retained them unwittingly in his memory. +The next moment the dowager swept past him. The daughter Muriel +followed, and as she passed Charnock she looked at him with an +inquisitive friendliness. But her eyes happened to meet his, and with +a spontaneous fellow-feeling the girl and the man smiled to each other +and at the dowager, before they realised that they were totally +unacquainted. + +Lady Donnisthorpe was lying in wait for Charnock. She asked him to +take her to the buffet. Charnock secured for her a chair and an ice, +and stood by her side, conversational but incommunicative. She was +consequently compelled herself to broach the subject which was at that +moment nearest to her heart. + +"How did you get on with my cousin?" she asked. + +Charnock smiled foolishly at nothing. + +"Oh, say something!" cried Lady Donnisthorpe, and tapped with her +spoon upon the glass plate. + +"Tell me about her," said Charnock, drawing up another chair. + +Lady Donnisthorpe lowered her voice and said with great pathos: "She +is most unhappy." + +Charnock gravely nodded his head. "Why?" + +Lady Donnisthorpe settled herself comfortably with the full intention +of wringing Charnock's heart if by any means she could. + +"Miranda comes of an old Catholic Suffolk family. She was eighteen +when she married, and that's six years ago. No, six years and a half. +Ralph Warriner was a Lieutenant in the Artillery, and made her +acquaintance when he was staying in the neighbourhood of the Pollards, +that's Miranda's house in Suffolk. Ralph listened to Allan Bedlow's +antediluvian stories. Allan was Miranda's father, her mother died long +ago. Ralph captured the father; finally he captured the daughter. +Ralph, you see, had many graces but no qualities; he was a bad stone +in a handsome setting and Miranda was no expert. How could she be? She +lived at Glenham with only her father and a discontented relation, +called Jane Holt, for her companions. Consequently she married Ralph +Warriner, who got his step the day after the marriage, and the pair +went immediately to Gibraltar. Ralph had overestimated Miranda's +fortune, and it came out that he was already handsomely dipped; so +that their married life began with more than the usual disadvantages. +It lasted for three years, and for that time only because of Miranda's +patience and endurance. She is very silent about those three years, +but we know enough," and Lady Donnisthorpe was for a moment carried +away. "It must have been intolerable," she exclaimed. "Ralph Warriner +never had cared a snap of his fingers for her. His tastes were +despicable, his disposition utterly mean. Cards were in his blood; I +verily believe that his heart was an ace of spades. Add to that that +he was naturally cantankerous and jealous. To his brother officers he +was civil for he owed them money, but he made up for his civility by +becoming a bully once he had closed his own front door." + +"Yes, yes," interrupted Charnock, hurriedly, as though he had no heart +to hear more; "I understand." + +"You can understand then that when the crash came we were glad. Two +years after the marriage old Allan Bedlow sickened. Miranda came home +to nurse him and Ralph--he bought a schooner-yacht. Allan Bedlow died; +Miranda inherited, and the estate was settled upon her. Ralph could +not touch a farthing of the capital, and he was aggrieved. Miranda +returned to Gibraltar, and matters went from worse to worse. The crash +came a year later. The nature of it is neither here nor there, but +Ralph had to go, and had to go pretty sharp. His schooner-yacht was +luckily lying in Gibraltar Bay; he slipped on board before gunfire, +and put to sea as soon as it was dark; and he was not an instant too +soon. From that moment he disappeared, and the next news we had of him +was the discovery of his body upon Rosevear two years afterwards." + +Charnock hunted through the jungle of Lady Donnisthorpe's words for a +clue to the distress which Miranda had betrayed that evening, but he +did not discover one. Another question forced itself into his mind. +"Why does Mrs. Warriner live at Ronda?" he asked. "I have never been +there, but there are no English residents, I should think." + +"That was one of her reasons," replied Lady Donnisthorpe. "At least I +think so, but upon that too she is silent, and when she will not speak +no one can make her. You see what Ralph did was hushed up,--it was one +of those cases which are hushed up,--particularly since he had +disappeared and was out of reach. But everyone knew that disgrace +attached to it. His name was removed from the Army List. Miranda +perhaps shrank from the disgrace. She shrank too, I think, from the +cheap pity of which she would have had so much. At all events she did +not return home, she sent for Jane Holt, her former companion, and +settled at Ronda." Lady Donnisthorpe looked doubtfully at Charnock. +"Perhaps there were other reasons too, sacred reasons." But she had +not made up her mind whether it would be wise to explain those other +reasons before her guests began to take their leave of her; and so the +opportunity was lost. + +Charnock walked back to his hotel that night in a frame of mind +entirely strange to him. He was inclined to rhapsodise; he invented +and rejected various definitions of woman; he laughed at the worldly +ignorance of the dowager. "A woman, madam "--he imagined himself to be +lecturing her--"is the great gift to man to keep him clean and bright +like a favourite sword." He composed other and no less irreproachable +phrases, and in the midst of this exhilarating exercise was struck +suddenly aghast at the temerity of his own conduct that night, at the +remembrance of his persistency. However, he was not in a mood to be +disheartened. The dawn took the sky by surprise while he was still +upon his way. The birds bustled among the leaves in the gardens, and a +thrush tried his throat, and finding it clear gave full voice to his +song. The blackbirds called one to the other, and a rosy light struck +down the streets. It was morning, and he stopped to wonder whether +Miranda was yet asleep. He hoped so, intensely, for the sake of her +invaluable health. + +But Miranda was seated by her open window, listening to the birds +calling in the Park, and drawing some quiet from the quiet of the +lawns and trees; and every now and then she glanced across her +shoulder to where a torn white glove lay upon the table, as though she +was afraid it would vanish by some enchantment. + +But the next day Miranda packed her boxes, and when Charnock called +upon Lady Donnisthorpe, he was informed that she had returned in haste +to Ronda. Charnock was surprised, for he remembered that Mrs. Warriner +had expressed a doubt whether she would ever return to Ronda, and +wondered what had occurred to change her mind. But the surprise and +bewilderment were soon swallowed up in a satisfaction which sprang +from the assurance that Miranda and he were after all to be +neighbours. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + IN WHICH MAJOR WILBRAHAM DESCRIBES THE STEPS BY WHICH HE ATTAINED + HIS MAJORITY, AND GIVES MIRANDA SOME PARTICULAR INFORMATION + + +A month later at Ronda, and a little after midday. In the cool +darkness of the Cathedral, under the great stone dome behind the +choir, Miranda was kneeling before a lighted altar. That altar she had +erected, as an inscription showed, to the memory of Ralph Warriner, +and since her return from England she had passed more than an ordinary +proportion of her time in front of it. + +This morning, however, an unaccountable uneasiness crept over her. She +tried to shake the sensation off by an increased devoutness, but +though her knees were bent, there was no prayer in her mind or upon +her lips. Her uneasiness increased, and after a while it defined +itself. Someone was watching her from behind. + +She ceased even from the pretence of prayer. Her heart fluttered up +into her throat. She did not look round, she did not move, but she +knelt there with a sinking expectation, in the light of the altar +candles, and felt intensely helpless because their yellow warmth +streamed full upon her face and person, and must disclose her to the +watching eyes behind. + +She knelt waiting for a familiar voice and a familiar step. She heard +only the grating of a chair upon the stone flags beyond the choir, and +a priest droning a litany very far away. Here all was quiet--quiet as +the eyes watching her out of the gloom. + +At last, resenting her cowardice, she rose to her feet and turned. At +once a man stepped forward, and her heart gave a great throb of +relief, as she saw the man was a stranger. + +He bowed, and with an excuse for his intrusion, he handed her a card. +She did not look at it, for immediately the stranger continued to +speak, in a cool, polite voice, and it seemed to her that all her +blood stood still. + +"I knew Captain Warriner at Gibraltar," he said. "In fact I may say +that I know him, for he is alive." + +Miranda was dimly aware that he waited for an answer, and then excused +her silence with an accent of sarcasm. + +"Such good news must overwhelm you, no doubt. I have used all despatch +to inform you of it, for I was only certain of the truth yesterday." + +And to her amazement Miranda heard herself reply: + +"Then I discovered it a month before you did." + +The next thing of which she was conscious was a thick golden mist +before her eyes. The golden mist was the clear sunlight in the square +before the Cathedral. Miranda was leaning against the stone parapet, +though how she was there she could not have told. She had expected the +news. She had even thought that the man standing behind her was her +husband, come to tell her it in person; but nevertheless the mere +telling of it, the putting of it in words, to quote the stranger's +phrase, had overwhelmed her. Memories of afternoons during which she +had walked out with her misery to Europa Point, of evenings when she +had sat with her misery upon the flat house-top watching the riding +lights in Algeciras Bay, and listening to the jingle of tambourines +from the houses on the hillside below--all the sordid unnecessary +wretchedness of those three years spent at Gibraltar came crushing +her. She savoured again the disgrace which attended upon Ralph's +flight. Her first instinct, when she learned Ralph was alive, had +urged her to hide, and at this moment she regretted that she had not +obeyed it. She regretted that she had returned to Ronda, where Ralph +or any emissary of his at once could find her. + +But that was only for a moment. She had returned to Ronda with a full +appreciation of the consequences of her return, and for reasons which +she was afterwards to explain, and of which, even while she stood in +that square, she resumed courage to approve. + +The stranger came from the door of the Cathedral and crossed to her. + +"Your matter-of-fact acceptance of my news was clever, Mrs. Warriner," +he said with a noticeable sharpness. "Believe me, I do homage to +cleverness. I frankly own that I expected a scene of sorts. I was +quite taken aback--a compliment, I assure you, upon my puff," and he +bowed with his hand on his breast. "You were out of the Cathedral door +before I realised that all this time you had been the Captain's--would +you mind if I said accomplice?" + +That her matter-of-fact acceptance of the news was entirely due to the +fact that the news dazed her, Miranda did not trouble to explain. + +"The altar," continued the stranger, in a voice of genuine admiration, +"was a master-stroke. To erect an altar to the memory of a husband +who is still alive, to pray devoutly before it, is highly ingenious +and--may I say?--brave. Religion is a trump-card, Mrs. Warriner, in +most of the games where you sit with law and order for your opponents; +but not many women have the bravery to play it for its value." + +Miranda coloured at his words. There had been some insincerity in her +daily prayers before the altar, though the self-satisfied man who +spoke to her had not his finger upon the particular flaw,--enough +insincerity to cause Miranda some shame, now that she probed it, and +yet in the insincerity there had been also something sincere. The +truth is, Miranda could bring herself to wish neither that her husband +was dead if he was alive, nor that he should come to life again if he +was dead; she made a compromise--she daily prayed with great fervour +for his soul's salvation before the altar she had erected to his +memory. But this again was not a point upon which she troubled to +enlighten her companion. She was more concerned to discover who the +man was, and on what business he had come. + +"You knew my husband at Gibraltar," she said, "and yet--" + +"It is true," replied the man, in answer to her suspicion. "You need +not be afraid, Mrs. Warriner. I have not come from Scotland Yard. I +have had, I admit, relations with the police, but they have always +been of an involuntary kind." + +"You assume," said she, with some pride, "that I have reason to fear +Scotland Yard, whereas nothing was further from my thoughts. Only you +say that you knew my husband at Gibraltar. You pretend to come from +him--" + +"By no means. We are at cross-purposes, I fancy. I do not come from +him, though most certainly I did know him at Gibraltar. But I admit +that he never invited me to his house." + +"In that case," said Miranda, with a cold bow, "I can do no more than +thank you for the news you give me and wish you a good day." + +She walked by him. He turned and imperturbably fell into step by her +side. "Clever," said he, "clever!" Miranda stopped. "Who are you? What +is your business?" she asked. + +"As to who I am, you hold my card in your hand." + +Mrs. Warriner had carried it from the Cathedral, unaware that she held +it. She now raised it to her eyes and read, _Major Ambrose Wilbraham_. + +Wilbraham noted, though he did not understand, the rapid, perplexed +glance which she shot at him. Charnock had spoken to her of a Major +Wilbraham, had described him, and undoubtedly this was the man. "As to +my business," he continued, "I give you the news that your husband is +alive, but I have also something to sell." + +"What?" + +"Obviously my silence. It might be awkward if it was known in certain +quarters that Captain Warriner, who sold the mechanism of the new +Daventry quick-firing gun to a foreign power; who slipped out of +Gibraltar just a night before his arrest was determined on, and who +was wrecked a year ago in the Scillies, is not only alive, but in the +habit of paying periodical visits to England." + +Mrs. Warriner again read the name upon the card. "Major Ambrose +Wilbraham," she said, with an incredulous emphasis on the _Major_. + +"Captains," he retorted airily, "have at times deviated from the +narrow path, so that a Major may well be forgiven a peccadillo. But I +will not deceive you, Mrs. Warriner. The rank was thrust upon me by a +barman in Shaftesbury Avenue, and I suffered it, because the title +after all gives me the entrance to the chambers of many young men who +have, or most often have not, just taken their degrees. So Major I am, +but my mess is any bar within a mile of Piccadilly Circus. Shall we +say that I hold brevet rank, and am seconded for service in the noble +regiment of the soldiers of fortune?" + +"And the enemies you fight with," said Miranda, with a contemptuous +droop of the lips, "are women like myself." + +"Pardon me," retorted Wilbraham, with unabashed good humour. "Women +like yourself, Mrs. Warriner, are the _vivandieres_ whom we +regretfully impress to supply our needs upon the march. Our enemies +are the rozzers--again I beg your pardon--the gentlemen in blue who +lurk at the street corners, by whom from time to time we are worsted +and interned." + +They walked across the square along a narrow street down towards the +Tajo, that deep chasm which bisects the town. The heat was intense, +the road scorched under foot, and they walked slowly. They made a +strange pair in the old, quaint streets, the woman walking with a +royal carriage, delicate in her beauty and her dress; the man defiant, +battered and worn, with an eye which from sheer habit scouted in front +and aside for the chance which might toss his day's rations in his +way. + +Their talk was stranger still, for by an unexpressed consent, the +subject of the bargain to be struck was deferred, and as they walked +Wilbraham illustrated to Miranda the career of a man who lives by his +wits, and dwelt even with humour upon its alternations of prosperity +and starvation. "I have been a manager of theatrical companies in 'the +smalls,'" he said, "a billiard-marker at Trieste, a racing tipster, a +vender of--photographs, and I once carried a sandwich-board down Bond +Street, and saw the women I had danced with not so long before draw +their delicate skirts from the defilement of my rags. However, I +rose to a better position. It is funny, you know, to go right under, +and then find there are social degrees in the depths. I have had +good times too, mind you. Every now and then I have struck an A1 +copper-bottomed gold mine, and then there were dress suits and meals +running into one another, and ormolu rooms on the first floor." + +Dark sayings, unintelligible shibboleths, came and went among his +words and obscured their meaning; accents and phrases from many +countries betrayed the vicissitudes of his life; but he spoke with the +accent of a gentleman, and with something of a gentleman's good +humour; so that Miranda, moved partly by his recital and perhaps +partly because her own misfortunes had touched her to an universal +sympathy, began to be interested in the man who had experienced so +much that was strange to her, and they both slipped into a tolerance +of each other and a momentary forgetfulness of their relationship as +blackmailer and blackmailed. + +"I could give you a modern edition of Don Guzman," he said. "I was a +money-lender's tout at Gibraltar at one time. It's to that I owed my +acquaintance with Warriner. It's to that I owe my present acquaintance +with you." He came to a dead stop in the full swing of narration. He +halted in his steps and banged the point of his stick down into the +road. "But I have done with it," he cried, and drawing a great breath, +he showed to Miranda a face suddenly illuminated. "The garrets and the +first floors, the stale billiard rooms, the desperate scouting for +food like a damned sea-gull--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Warriner. Upon my +word, I do! But imagine a poor beggar of a bankrupt painter who, after +fifteen years, suddenly finds himself with a meal upon the table and +his bills paid! I am that man. Fifteen years of what I have described +to you! It might have been less, no doubt, but I hadn't learnt my +lesson. Fifteen years, and from first to last not one thing done of +the few things worth doing; fifteen years of a murderous hunt for +breakfast and dinner! And I've done with it, thanks to you, Mrs. +Warriner." And his face hardened at once and gleamed at her, very +cruel and menacing. "Yes, thanks to you! We'll not forget that." And +as he resumed his walk the astounding creature began gaily to quote +poetry: + + + "I resume + Life after death; for 'tis no less than life + After such long, unlovely labouring days. + + +A great poet, Mrs. Warriner. What do you think?" + +"No doubt," said Miranda, absently. That one cruel glance had chilled +the sympathy in her; Major Wilbraham would not spare either Ralph or +herself with the memory of those fifteen years to harden him. + +They came to the Ciudad, the old intricate Moorish town of tortuous +lanes in the centre of Ronda. Before a pair of heavy walnut doors +curiously encrusted with bright copper nails Wilbraham came to a stop. +"Your house, I think, Mrs. Warriner," and he took off his hat and +wiped his forehead. + +"I should prefer," said she, "to hear what you have to say in the +Alameda." + +"As you will. I am bound to say that I could have done with a soda and +I'm so frisky, but I recognise that I have no right to trespass upon +your hospitality." + +They went on, crossed a small plaza, and so came down to the Tajo. A +bridge spans the ravine in a single arch; in the centre of the bridge +Miranda stopped, leaned over the parapet and looked downwards. +Wilbraham followed her example. For three hundred feet the walls of +the gorge fell sheer, at the bottom the turbulence of a torrent foamed +and roared, at the top was the span of the bridge. In the brickwork of +the arch a tiny window looked out on air. + +"Do you see that window?" said Miranda, drily. "The prison is +underfoot in the arch of the bridge." + +"Indeed, how picturesque," returned Wilbraham, easily, who was quite +untouched by any menace which Miranda's words might suggest. Miranda +looked across the road towards a guardia. Wilbraham lazily followed +the direction of her glance; for all the emotion which he showed +blackmail might have been held in Spain an honourable means of +livelihood. Miranda turned back. "That window," she said, "is the +window of the prison." + +"The view," remarked Wilbraham, "would compensate in some measure for +the restriction." + +"Chains might add to the restriction." + +"Chains _are_ unpleasant," Wilbraham heartily agreed. + +Miranda realised that she had tempted defeat in this little encounter. +She accepted it and walked on. + +"You were wise to come off that barrow, Mrs. Warriner," Wilbraham +remarked in approval. + +They crossed the bridge and entered the Mercadillo, the new Spanish +quarter of the town, ascended the hill, and came to the bull ring. +Before that Wilbraham stopped. "Why do we go to the Alameda?" + +"We can talk there on neutral ground." + +"It seems a long way." + +"On the other hand," replied Miranda, "the Alameda is close to the +railway station. By the bye, how did you know where I lived?" + +"There was no difficulty in discovering that. I learnt at Gibraltar +that you lived at Ronda, and the station-master here told me where. +When I saw your house I did not wonder at your choice. You were wise +to take a Moorish house, I fancy--the patio with the tamarisks in the +middle and the fountain and the red and green tiles--very pleasant, I +should think. A door or two stood open. The rooms seemed charming, low +in roof, with dark panels, of a grateful coolness, and so far as I +could judge, with fine views." + +"You went into the house, then?" exclaimed Miranda. + +"Yes, I asked for you, and was told that Miss Holt was at home. I +thought it wise to go in--one never knows. So I introduced myself, but +not my business, to Miss Holt--your cousin, is she not? A profound +sentimentalist, I should fancy; I noticed she was reading _Henrietta +Temple_. She complained of being much alone; she nurses grievances, no +doubt. Sentimentalists have that habit--what do you say?" Miranda +could have laughed at the shrewdness of the man's perceptions, had she +not been aware that the shrewdness was a weapon directed against her +own breast. + +They reached the Alameda. Miranda led the way to a bench which faced +the railings. Wilbraham looked quickly and suspiciously at her, and +then walked to the railings and looked over. The Alameda is laid out +upon the very edge of the Ronda plateau, and Wilbraham looked straight +down a sheer rock precipice of a thousand feet. He remained in that +posture for some seconds. From the foot of that precipice the plain of +the Vega stretched out level as a South-sea lagoon. The gardens of a +few cottages were marked out upon the green like the squares of a +chess-board; upon the hedges there was here and there the flutter of +white linen. Orchards of apples, cherries, peaches, and pears, +enriched the plain with their subdued colours, and the Guadiaro, freed +from the confinement of its chasm, wound through it with the glitter +and the curve of a steel spring. A few white Moorish mills upon the +banks of the stream were at work, and the sound of them came droning +through the still heat up to Wilbraham's ears. + +Wilbraham, however, was not occupied with the scenery, for when he +turned back to Miranda his face was dark and angry. + +"Why did you bring me to the Alameda?" he asked sternly. + +"Because I will not listen to you in my own, house," she answered with +spirit. + +Wilbraham did not resent the reason, but he watched her warily, as +though he doubted it. + +"Now," said Miranda, as she stood before him. "You tell me that my +husband is living. I have your bare word for it, and out of your lips +you have proved to me that your bare word has very little worth." + +"The buttons are off the foils," said he; "very well. In the Cathedral +you corroborated my word. You know that he lives; I know it." + +"How do you know it?" + +"By adding two and two and making five, as any man with any savvy +always can," replied Wilbraham. "Indeed, by adding two and two, one +can even at times make a decent per annum." + +Mrs. Warriner sat down upon the bench, and Wilbraham, standing at her +side, presented the following testimonial to his "savvy." First of +all, he drew from one pocket four pounds of English gold, and from the +other a handful of dollars and pesetas. "This is what is left of two +hundred and thirty pounds, which I won at Monte Carlo in the beginning +of May. There's a chance for philosophy, Mrs. Warriner. If I hadn't +won that money I shouldn't be standing here now with my livelihood +assured. For I shouldn't have been able to embark on the P. and O. +mail steamer _India_ at Marseilles, and so I shouldn't have fallen in +with my dear young friend Charnock." + +Miranda fairly started at the mention of Charnock's name in connection +with Wilbraham's discovery. Instantly Wilbraham paused. Miranda made +an effort to look entirely unconcerned, but Wilbraham's eye was upon +her, and she felt the blood colouring her cheeks. + +"Oho!" said Wilbraham, cocking his head. Then he whistled softly to +himself while he looked her over from head to foot. Miranda kept +silence, and he resumed his story, though every time he mentioned +Charnock's name he looked to surprise her in some movement. + +"Off Ushant we came up with a brigantine, and I couldn't help fancying +that her lines were familiar to me. Charnock lent me his binoculars--a +dear good fellow, Charnock!--and I made out her name, the _Tarifa_. I +should not have given the boat another thought but for Charnock. +Charnock said she had the lines of a Salcombe clipper. Did you happen +to know that the _Ten Brothers_ was a Salcombe clipper? I did, and the +moment Charnock had spoken I understood why the look of her hull was +familiar; I had seen her or her own legitimate sister swinging at +Warriner's moorings in Algeciras Bay. I did not set any great store +upon that small point, however, until Charnock kindly informed me that +her owner could have gained no possible advantage by altering her rig +from a schooner's into a brigantine's. Then my interest began to rise, +for he had altered the rig. Why, if the change was to his +disadvantage? I can't say that I had any answer ready; I can't say +that I expected to find an answer. But since I landed at Plymouth, +from which Salcombe is a bare twenty miles, I thought that I might as +well run over. One never knows--such small accidents mean everything +for us--and, as a matter of fact, I spent a very pleasant half-hour in +the back parlour of the Commercial Inn, watching the yachts at anchor +and the little sailing boats spinning about the river, and listening +to an old skipper, who deplored the times when the town rang with the +din of hammers in shipbuilding yards, and twelve--observe, Mrs. +Warriner, twelve--schooners brought to it the prosperity of their +trade. The schooners had been sold off, but the skipper had their +destinies at his fingers' ends as a man follows the fortunes of his +children. Two had been cast away, three were in the Newfoundland +trade, one was now a steam-yacht, and the others still carried fruit +from the West Indies. He accounted for eleven of them, and the +twelfth, of course, was the _Ten Brothers_ wrecked upon Rosevear. I +eliminated the _Ten Brothers_, the two which had been cast away, and +the steam-yacht. Eight were left." + +"Yes?" said Mrs. Warriner. + +"I went back to Plymouth and verified the skipper's information. He +had given me the owners' names and the names of the vessels. I looked +them up in the sailing-lists and I proved beyond a shadow of doubt, +from their dates of sailing and arrival at various ports, that not one +of those eight schooners could have been the brigantine we passed off +Ushant. There remained, then, the four which I had eliminated, or +rather the three, for the steam-yacht was out of the question. Do you +follow?" + +Miranda made a sign of assent. + +"Those three boats had been cast away. Two of them belonged to +respectable firms, the third to Ralph Warriner. It would of course be +very convenient for Ralph Warriner, under the circumstances, to be +reputed dead and yet to be alive with a boat in hand, so to speak. On +the other side, would it profit either of the two respectable firms to +spread a false report that one of their boats had been cast away? +Hardly; besides, it would of course be to Warriner's advantage, from +the point of view of concealment, to change the rig and the name of +his boat. It was all inference and guess-work, no doubt. Charnock, for +instance, might have been entirely wrong; the _Tarifa_ might never +have been anything but the _Tarifa_ and a brigantine; but the +inference and the guess-work all pointed the one way, and I own that +my interest was rapidly changing to excitement. My suspicions were +strengthened by the behaviour of the _Tarifa_ herself. No news of her +approach was recorded in the papers. She didn't make any unnecessary +noise about the port she was bound for, nor had she the manners to +pass the time of day with any of Lloyd's signal-stations. The +_Tarifa's_ business began to provoke my curiosity. Here was (shall we +say?) a needless lack of ceremony to begin with. It didn't seem as if +the _Tarifa_ had many anxious friends awaiting her arrival. Besides +that, supposing that my suspicions were right, that the _Tarifa_ was +the _Ten Brothers_ masquerading under another name, and that perhaps +Ralph Warriner was on board, it stood to reason Ralph Warriner would +not risk his skin in an English port, without a better reason than a +cargo of trade. Comprenny, Mrs. Warriner? I was guessing, +conjecturing, inferring; I had no knowledge. So I thought the cargo of +the _Tarifa_ was the right end of the stick to hang on to. If I could +know the truth about that, I should be in a better position to guess +whether it had anything to do with Ralph Warriner. Is that clear?" + +It was clear enough to Miranda, who already felt herself enmeshed in +the net of this man's ingenious deductions. "Yes," she said. + +"Very well. From the brigantine's course, she was evidently making for +one of the western harbours. I lay low in Plymouth for a couple of +days, and read the shipping news. That wasn't all I did during those +two days, though. I went to the Free Library besides, overhauled the +file of the _Western Morning News_ and assimilated information about +the inquest at St. Mary's. The faceless mariner chucked up on Rosevear +struck one as interesting. I noticed too that there had been a good +many wrecks in the Channel during the heavy weather and the fog just +about that time. But before I had come to any conclusion, I opened my +newspaper on the third morning and read that the _Tarifa_ had dropped +her anchor at Falmouth. I took the first train out of Plymouth, and +sure enough I picked the _Tarifa_ up in Falmouth docks. Then I made +friends with the port-officers, but I got never a glimpse of Ralph +Warriner." + +Miranda's hopes revived. She knew very well that Ralph Warriner was +not at that time in Falmouth. For the moment, however, she let +Wilbraham run on. + +"I frankly admit that my hopes sank a little," he continued. "Of +course Warriner might have been put ashore; but it seemed to me +impossible to obtain sufficient certainty of my suspicions unless I +actually clapped eyes on him." + +Miranda agreed, and her prospects of escaping from this man's clutches +showed brighter; for she was not in a mood of sufficient calmness to +enable her to realise that Wilbraham would hardly have been so frank, +if he had not by now at all events acquired absolute certainty. + +"My hopes were to sink yet more," Wilbraham continued. "The brigantine +passed for a tramp out from Tarifa with a cargo of fruit. I saw that +cargo unloaded. There was no pretence about it; it was a full cargo of +fruit. The boat was sailing back to Tarifa with a cargo of alkali, and +I saw that cargo stowed away in her hold. Mrs. Warriner, my spirits +began to revive. That cargo of alkali was most uncommon small; the +profit on it wouldn't have paid the decky's wages. Again I inferred. I +inferred that the alkali was a blind, and that the _Tarifa_ meant to +pick up a cargo of another sort somewhere along the coast, though what +the cargo would be I could not for the life of me imagine." + +"But it is all guess-work," said Miranda, with an indifference which +she was far from feeling. + +"I learned one piece of solid cheering information from my friends the +port-officers," retorted Wilbraham. "The _Tarifa's_ papers were all +quite recent, and yet she was an old boat. She was supposed to be +owned by her master." + +"And no doubt was," added Miranda, with an assumption of weariness. + +"It appeared that her saloon had caught fire; the saloon had been +gutted and the _Tarifa's_ papers destroyed a year before," Wilbraham +resumed, untroubled by Mrs. Warriner's objections. "A pretty careless +captain that, eh? A most uncommon careless captain, Mrs. Warriner? For +a boat to lose her papers--well, its pretty much the same as when a +girl loses her marriage lines in the melodramas. A most uncommon +careless captain! Or a most astute one, you say. What? Well, I'll not +deny but what you may be right. For that brigantine caught fire and +burned her papers just about the date when the _Ten Brothers_ went +ashore on Rosevear. How's that for the long arm?" + +"But you did not see my husband," said Miranda, stubbornly. + +"And why?" asked Wilbraham, and answered his question. "Because your +husband wasn't onboard." + +"Then the whole story falls to the ground," exclaimed Miranda, as she +rose from her seat. + +"Wait a bit, Mrs. Warriner," said Wilbraham, and he sat down on the +seat and nursed his leg. "The _Tarifa_ was supposed to belong to her +master, who went by the name of John Wilson. Now here's a funny thing. +I never saw John Wilson, though I prowled about the docks enough. The +port-officers described him to me, a grizzled seafaring man of fifty; +but he was always snug in his cabin, and a mate did the show business +with the cargo. I grew curious about John Wilson; I wanted to see John +Wilson. Accordingly I located the chart-room from the wharf, then I +put on a black thumb tie and a dirty collar so as to look like a +clerk, and I walked boldly down the gangway and stepped across the +deck. I chose my time, you understand. I knocked at the chart-room +door. 'Come in,' said a voice, and in I walked. Mrs. Warriner, you +could have knocked me down with that dainty parasol of yours if you +had been present when I first saw John Wilson. + +"'What do you want?' says he, short and sharp. + +"'Will you take a load of cotton to Valencia?' says I, and I quoted an +insignificant price. + +"'I am not such a fool as you look,' said he, and out I went and shook +hands with myself on the quay. For John Wilson--" + +"Was not my husband," exclaimed Miranda, with almost a despairing +violence. "He was not! He was not!" + +"You are right, Mrs. Warriner, he was not. But he was a man whom you +and I knew as Thomas Discipline, first mate of the schooner-yacht the +_Ten Brothers_, of which Captain Ralph Warriner was the certificated +master. And observe, please, the whole crew of the _Ten Brothers_ was +reported lost upon Rosevear." + +"Thomas Discipline might have left the _Ten Brothers_ before," argued +Miranda. "His presence on the _Tarifa_ does not connect my husband +with that boat." + +"That's precisely the objection which occurred to me," said Wilbraham, +coolly. "But here was at last a fact which fitted in with my +guess-work, and I own to being uplifted. That evening I got the ticket +that the _Tarifa_ was to put to sea the next day, and sure enough in +the morning she swung out into the fairway and waited for the evening +ebb. I passed that day in an altogether unenviable state of anxiety, +Mrs. Warriner; for if by any chance I was wrong, if she did not mean +to take up another cargo of a more profitable kind by dark, if she +were to sail clean away for Ushant on the evening ebb, why, the boat +might be the _Ten Brothers_ or it might not, and the master might be +the late Captain Warriner or he might not. Any way the bottom fell +clean out of my little business. But she did not; she got her anchors +in about eight o'clock and reached out towards the Lizard in the dusk +with a light wind from the land on her beam." + +"The story so far," Miranda interrupted, "seems nautical, but hardly +to the point." + +"Think so?" said Wilbraham, indifferently. "Did I mention that at the +mouth of the harbour the _Tarifa_ passed a steam launch pottering +around the St. Anthony Light? Between you and me, Mrs. Warriner, I was +holding the tiller of that steam launch." + +"You!" she exclaimed. + +"Just poor little me," said he, smiling politely, "with a few paltry +thick-uns in my pocket to speculate in the hire of a steam launch. I +gave the _Tarifa_ a start and followed, keeping well away on her lee +with her red light just in view. That first half-hour or so was a +wearing time for me, Mrs. Warriner, I assure you," and he took off his +hat and wiped his forehead, as though the anxiety came back upon him +now. He laboured his breath and broke up his sentences with short +nervous laughter. He seemed entirely to forget his companion, and the +sun, and the Andalusian sierras across the plain; he was desperately +hunting the _Tarifa_ along the Spit to the Lizard point. + +"I was certain of one thing: that no Captain Warriner had come aboard +at Falmouth. So if the _Tarifa_ kept out to sea, why, there was no +Captain Warriner to come aboard, and here was I spending my last +pounds in running down a will-o'-the-wisp, and the world to face again +to-morrow in the grim old way, without a penny to my purse. On the +other hand, if there was a Captain Warriner, he would come aboard with +the cargo somewhere that night, and I fancied I could lay my finger on +that somewhere. I had another cause for anxiety. Grant my guess-work +correct, and the last thing the _Tarifa_ was likely to hanker after +would be a wasp of a steam launch buzzing in her wake. The evening was +hazy, by a stroke of luck, but the wind was light and the sea smooth, +and my propeller throbbed out over the water until I thought it must +reverberate across the world, and the Esquimaux on Franz Josef Land +and the Kanaka in the Pacific would hear it plain as the pulsing of a +battleship. However, I slowed the launch down to less than half-speed, +and the crew of the _Tarifa_ made no account of me. The brigantine was +doing only a leisurely five knots--she was waiting for the dark, I +conjectured. Conjectured? I came near to praying it. And as if in +answer to my prayer--it sounds pretty much like blasphemy now, doesn't +it?--but at that moment I believed it--all at once her red light +vanished and my heart went jumping in the inside of me as though it +had slipped its moorings. For the _Tarifa_ had changed her course; she +was pointing closer to the wind and the wind came offshore; she was +showing me her stern instead of her port beam; on the course she was +lying now she couldn't clear the Manacles--not by any manner of means. +She was heading for the anchorage I hoped she would; she was standing +in towards Helford river. In a little she went about, and seeing her +green light, I slowed down again. I could afford to take it easy." + +He drew a breath of relief and lolled back upon his seat. Miranda no +longer put questions; there was a look of discouragement upon her +face; she began bitterly to feel herself helpless in this man's hands, +as clay under the potter's thumb. + +"Do you know the creek?" he asked, and did not wait for an answer. "I +hadn't anchored there for twenty years, but I had a chart of it in my +memories." His voice softened, with perhaps some recollection of a +yachting trip in the days before his life had grown sour. "Steep hills +on each side, and on each side woods. The trees run down and thrust +their knees into the water like animals at their watering places of an +evening. A mile or so up, a little rose and honeysuckle village +nestles as pretty as a poem. There's a noise of birds all day, and all +night and day the trees talk. Given a westerly wind, and the summer, I +don't know many places which come up to Helford river," and his voice +ceased, and he sat in a muse. A movement at his side recalled him. +"But that's not business, you say," he resumed briskly. "I left the +_Tarifa_ at the mouth of the creek. The little village a mile or more +up is on the southward side; opposite to it, on the Falmouth side, is +the coast-guard station; nearer to the mouth, and still on the +Falmouth side, a tiny dingle shelters a school-house and half-a-dozen +cottages, and still nearer, the road from Falmouth comes over the brow +of the hill and dips down along the hill-side. At one point the steep +hill-side is broken, there's an easy incline of sand and bushes and +soil between the water and the road. The incline is out of sight of +the coast-guard. Besides, it is only just round the point and close to +the sea. And for that reason I was in no particular hurry to follow +the _Tarifa_. I edged the launch close in under the point, waded +ashore, and scrambled along in the dark until I reached the break in +the hill-side. Then I lay down among the bushes and waited. All lights +were out on the _Tarifa_, but I could see her hull dimly, a blot of +solid black against the night's unsubstantial blackness. I waited for +centuries and aeons. There was neither moon nor any star. At last I +heard a creaking sound that came from the other end of the world. It +was repeated, it grew louder, it became many sounds, the sounds or +cart wheels on the dry road. I looked at my watch; the glimmer of its +white face made it possible for me to tell the hour. It was five +minutes to eleven. For five minutes the sounds drew infinitesimally +nearer. Higher up the creek six bells were struck upon a yacht, and +then over the waters from the direction of the _Tarifa_ came +cautiously the wooden rattle of oars in the rowlocks of a boat. A +boat, I say, but it was followed by another and another. The three +boats grounded on the sand as the carts reached the break in the +hill-side. There were few words spoken, and no light shown. I lay in +the bushes straining my ears to catch a familiar voice, my eyes on the +chance that a match might be struck and light up a familiar face." + +"Well?" said Miranda, breaking in upon his speech. She was strung to a +high pitch or excitement, and her face and voice betrayed it. + +"I was disappointed," replied Wilbraham, "but I saw something of the +cargo which the waggons brought over the hill and the boats carried on +board. Backwards and forwards between the _Tarifa_ and the shore they +were rowed with unremitting diligence and caution, carrying first +longish packing-cases of some weight, as I could gather from the +conduct of the men who stumbled with them down the incline. And after +the packing-cases, square boxes, yet more unwieldy than the long +cases, if one takes the proportion of size. The morning was breaking +before the last boat was hoisted on board, and the last waggon had +creaked out of hearing over the hill." + +"And what was the cargo?" asked Miranda. + +"That was the question which troubled me," replied Wilbraham. "I lay +on the hill-side in the chill of the morning as disheartened a man as +you can imagine. Through a break in the bushes I watched the _Tarifa_ +below me, her decks busy with the movement of her crew and from her +galley the comfortable smoke coiling up into the air. Breakfast! A +Gargantuan appetite suddenly pinched my stomach. Had Warriner gone on +board with the cargo? And what was the cargo? And into what harbour +would the _Tarifa_ carry it? I had found out nothing. Then on board +the brigantine men gathered at the windlass, a chain clinked musically +as the anchor was hove short, the gaff of her mainsail creaked up the +mast, and the festoons of her canvas were unfolded. The _Tarifa_ was +outward bound and I had discovered nothing. I was like a man tied hand +and foot and a treasure within his reach. I had had my fingers on the +treasure. Again the chain rattled on the windlass; she broke out her +foresail and her jib; I saw the water sparkle under her foot and +stream out a creaming pennant in her wake. I had lost. In the space of +a second I lived through every minute of my last fifteen years and +their dreary vicissitudes. I lived in anticipation through another +fifteen similar in every detail, and fairly shuddered to think there +might be another fifteen still to follow those. I stretched myself out +and ground my face in the sand and cursed God with all my heart for +the difference between man and man. And meanwhile the _Tarifa_, with a +hint of the sun upon her topsails, slipped out over the tide to sea." + +Wilbraham's face was quite convulsed by the violence of his +recollections; and with so vivid a sincerity, with a voice so mutable, +had he described the growth and extinction of his hopes, that Miranda +almost forgot their object, almost found herself sympathising with his +endeavours, almost regretted their failure--until she remembered that +after all he had not failed, or he would not have been sitting beside +her in the Alameda. + +"Well," she said in a hard voice, "you failed. What then?" + +"I crawled down to my launch, the cheapest man in the United Kingdom. +My engineer was muffled up in a pilot jacket and uncommon surly and +cheap too. I hadn't the pluck left in me to resent his impudence, and +we crept back to Falmouth. All the way I was pestered with that +question, 'What was the cargo I had seen shipped that night in Helford +river?' I couldn't get it out of my head. The propeller lashed it out +with a sort of vindictiveness. The little waves breaking ashore +whispered about it, as though they knew very well, but wouldn't peach. +When I had landed in Falmouth, I found that I was walking towards the +Free Library. The doors, however, were still closed. I breakfasted in +a fever of impatience and was back again at the doors before they were +opened. You may take it from me, Mrs. Warriner, I was the first +student inside the building that morning. I read over again every +scrap of news and comment about the inquest in Scilly which I could +pester the Librarian to unearth; and points which in my hurry I had +overlooked before, began to take an air of importance. The old man +Fournier, for instance; it seemed sort of queer that a taxidermist of +Tangier should come all the way to Scilly for a month's holiday. Eh, +what? What was old man Fournier doing at Scilly? Scilly's a likely +place for wrecks. Was old man Fournier a hanger-on upon chance, a +nautical Mr. Micawber waiting for a wreck to turn up which would suit +his purpose? Or had he stage-managed by some means or other the _coup +de theater_ on Rosevear? It seemed funny that the short-sighted man +should spot the wreck on Rosevear before the St. Agnes men, eh? +Suppose M. Fournier and Ralph Warriner were partners in that pretty +cargo! I walked straight out of that library, feeling quite certain +that I held the right end of the skein. I had made a mistake in +following up Warriner. I ought to have followed up the taxidermist. I +walked about Falmouth all that day puzzling the business out; and I +came to the conclusion that the sooner I crossed to the Scillies the +better. I was by this time fairly excited, and I think I should have +spent my last farthing in the hunt even if I had known that when I had +run the mystery to earth, it would not profit me at all. I took a +train that very evening, and pottered about from station to station +all night. In the morning I got to Penzance, and kicked my heels on +the wharf of the little dock there until nine o'clock, when the +_Lyonnesse_ started for St. Mary's. Three hours later I saw the +islands hump themselves up from the sea, and I stared and stared at +them till a genial being standing beside me said, 'I suppose you +haven't been home for a good many years.'--By the way, Mrs. Warriner," +he suddenly broke off, "I have heard that natural sherry is a drink in +some favour hereabouts. I can't say that it's a beverage I have ever +hankered after before, but what with the sun and the talk, the thought +of it is at the present moment most seductive. What if we rang down +the curtain for ten minutes and had an _entr'acte_, eh? Would you +mind?" And Wilbraham rose from his seat. + +"No," said Miranda. "Please finish what you have to say now." + +Wilbraham sighed, resumed his seat and at the same time his story. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + EXPLAINS THE MYSTERY OF THE "TARIFA'S" CARGO + + +"At St. Mary's," he continued, "I called at once upon the doctor. +'Ah,' said he, 'liver, I suppose.' + +"'Permanently enlarged by excessive indulgence in alcohol,' said I. 'I +had once a very dear friend in the same case called Ralph Warriner.'" + +Here Miranda interrupted with considerable indignation. "There is not +a word of truth in that." + +"There is not," Wilbraham agreed pleasantly; "but I had to introduce +the subject some way, and my way was successful. 'Ralph Warriner!' +exclaimed the doctor. 'And what was he dismissed the service for?' I +winked very slowly, with intense cunning; 'I understand,' said the +doctor, with a leer, though Heaven only knows what he did understand; +I fancy he thought his reputation as a man of the world was at stake. +After that the conversation went on swimmingly. + +"I was more than ever convinced that the discovery on Rosevear was a +put-up job. If so, old man Fournier must have been aware of that wreck +before he discovered it. He must have landed on the island and shoved +those papers into the dead man's pocket; and someone must have sailed +him out to the island. I determined to lay myself out to discover who +that someone was; but I went no farther than the determination. There +was not indeed any need that I should, for I sailed myself the next +day to Rosevear. I hired the _St. Agnes_ lugger, and Zebedee Isaacs, +as he sat at the tiller, gave me news of old man Fournier. Old man +Fournier was a desperate coward on the sea, yet he had put out to the +Bishop on a most unpleasing day. It was old man Fournier who insisted +that they should run through the Neck and examine Rosevear, and when +Zebedee Isaacs declined the risk, old man Fournier flung himself in a +passion on the tiller and nearly swamped the boat. All very queer, eh? +M. Fournier must have had some fairly strong motive to nerve him to +that pitch of audacity. And what that motive was I should discover +when I discovered the nature of the _Tarifa's_ cargo. I thought +perpetually about that cargo, all the way to Rosevear, and after I had +landed on that melancholy island. The truth came upon me in a moment +of inspiration. The ground I remember gave way under my foot. I had +trodden on a sea-bird's nest and stumbled forward on my knees, and +with the shock of the stumble came the inspiration. I remained on my +knees, with the gulls screaming overhead, and the grey wastes of ocean +moaning about the unkindly rocks. And I knew! The taxidermist from +Tangier, the longish packing-cases, the square boxes--Ralph Warriner +and old man Fournier were running guns and ammunition into Morocco!" + +Miranda could not repress an exclamation. She had no doubt that +Wilbraham was right; the theory fitted in with Ralph's adventurous +character. M. Fournier no doubt made the arrangements, and provided +the capital; Ralph worked the cargo across from England to Morocco. +And to make it safe for himself to venture upon English soil, he had +altered the rig of the _Tarifa_ in some unfrequented port, and somehow +arranged the deception concerning his death. + +"You think as I thought in Rosevear," said Wilbraham, looking shrewdly +into her face. "I only wish you could participate in the delight I +felt. I had my fingers on the secret now, and it was such a perfect, +profitable secret, for, quite apart from the other affair, gun-running +in Morocco is itself an offence against the law. I fairly hugged +myself. 'Ambrose,' said I, 'never in all your puff have you struck +anything like this. Fouche you shall trample under foot and Sherlock +Holmes shall be your washpot; you are the best in the world. The +faceless mariner was a fraud, a freak from Barnum's. Here at last is +Eldorado, and there's no fly anywhere upon the gilding.' Thus, Mrs. +Warriner, I soliloquised, and took the next boat back to Penzance; +from Penzance I travelled by train to Plymouth; from Plymouth I sailed +in an Orient boat to Gib, and from Gib I crossed to Tangier, where I +had a few minutes' conversation with one or two officers of the +custom-house. + +"Morocco as a social institution has many points of convenience which +it is useful for men like Warriner and myself to know. Here's a small +case in point. If you wish to smuggle forbidden goods into the +country, you hire the custom-house officials to unload your cargo for +you at night somewhere on the beach. Thus you avoid much trouble, all +chance of detection and you secure skilled workmen. I had no doubt +that Warriner had followed this course. So I hired the custom-house +officials to tell me the truth, and out it came. The _Tarifa_ had +landed its cargo in the bay a mile and a half from Tangier a couple of +days before I arrived, and M. Fournier had supervised the unloading, +and the captain of the _Tarifa_ was no longer the grizzled sea-dog, +Mr. Thomas Discipline, but a gentleman of a slight figure, blue eyes, +and fair hair. That middle-aged cherub, in a word, with whom you and I +are both familiar, and who now calls himself Mr. Jeremy Bentham. When +I had derived this information I walked into M. Fournier's shop and +bought a stuffed jackal. There was a tourist making purchases, so I +asked my question quietly as I leaned my elbows on the counter. + +"'How did you work the situation on Rosevear?' said I, 'and how's my +sweet friend, Ralph Warriner?' + +"The little Frenchman turned white and sick. He babbled expostulations +and denials. He demanded my name--" + +"You gave him your card, I hope," interrupted Miranda, biting her lip. +Wilbraham gazed at her with admiration. "Well, you have got some +spirit. I will say that for you, Mrs. Warriner." + +"I am not in need of testimonials," said Miranda. "What of M. +Fournier?" + +"He talked to me mysteries after that. 'You were in Tangier a month +ago,' said he. 'You shouted "Look out!" through the door; you startled +a friend of mine; you are a coward.' Would you believe it, the little +worm turned? He flew into a violent passion; I suppose it was in just +such a passion that he flung himself on Zebedee Isaacs at Scilly. A +plucky little man for all his cowardice! He called me a number of ill +names. However, I had got what I wanted. I crossed back to Gibraltar, +and here I am." + +Wilbraham crossed his legs, and with a polite "You will permit me?" +lighted a cigarette. + +"I see," said Miranda, with a contemptuous droop of her lips. "Having +failed to blackmail M. Fournier and my husband, you fall back upon +blackmailing a woman." + +Wilbraham's answer to the sneer was entirely unexpected, even by +Miranda, who was prepared for the unexpected in this man. He showed no +shame; he did not try to laugh away the slur; but removing his +cigarette from his mouth, he turned deliberately his full face to her +and in a deliberate voice said: "I do not take the conventional view +upon these matters. And, all other things being equal, had I to choose +between a man and a woman, I should spare the man and strike the +woman." + +He spoke without any bitterness, but in a hard, calm voice, as though +he had sounded the question to the bottom. Miranda gasped, the words +for a second took her breath away, and then the blood came warmly into +her cheeks, and her eyes softened and brightened and she smiled. A +sudden glory seemed to illuminate her face. Wilbraham wondered why. He +could not know that the brutal shock of his speech had sent her +thoughts winging back to a balcony overlooking St. James's Park, where +a man had held a torn glove in his hand and in a no less decided voice +than Wilbraham's had spoken quite other words. + +"I never intended to address either Fournier or your husband upon the +subject of--shall we call it compensation? At the best I should have +got a lump sum now and again from them, and as I say, I have learnt my +lesson. If I had a lump sum, it would be spent, and I should again be +penniless. I apply to you because I propose a regular sum per annum +paid quarterly in advance." + +Miranda was still uplifted by the contrast between her recollections +and Wilbraham's words. She had the glove at home locked up, an +evidence that succour was very near--a hundred miles only down the +winding valley which faced her--and she had not even to say a word in +order to command it. When she spoke again to Wilbraham she spoke +emboldened by this knowledge. + +"And what if I were to refuse you even a shilling for your dinner?" + +"I should be compelled to lay my information before the proper +authorities, that Ralph Warriner is alive and may at times be captured +in England." + +"Would you be surprised to hear that Mr. Warriner committed no crime +for which he could be captured?" + +"I should be surprised beyond words. Mr. Warriner sold the mechanism +of the Daventry gun to a foreign government." + +"Are you so sure of that?" + +"I was his agent." + +"You! Then you are also his accomplice." + +"True,--and I look forward to turning Queen's evidence." + +Miranda withdrew from the contest. The discussion was hardly more than +academic, for she knew both that her husband was alive and that this +particular crime he had committed. + +"What is your price?" she asked, and she sat down upon the bench. + +Wilbraham did not immediately reply. He took a pocket-book from his +coat and a letter from the pocket-book. + +"I should wish you fully to understand the strength of my position," +he said. "This letter you will see is in your husband's handwriting. +This passage," and he folded the letter to show Miranda a line or two, +"enjoins me to be very careful about the plans. The gun is not +mentioned by name, but the date of the letter and the context leave no +possible doubt." + +He fluttered the letter under Miranda's eyes and within reach of her +fingers. + +"It is my one piece of evidence, but a convincing piece." + +He made a pretence of dropping it at her feet and snatched it up +quickly. Then he replaced it in his pocket-book and shut up his +pocket-book with a snap. + +"Why didn't you snatch at it?" he exclaimed with irritation. + +"Why did you wish me to snatch at it?" she replied. + +"Because--because," he said angrily, "you have made me feel real mean, +as mean as a man in the commission of his first dishonourable act +towards a woman, and I wanted you to look mean at all events; it would +have made my business easier to handle. Well, let's have done with it. +I know Ralph Warriner is alive. I can give information which may lead +to his capture; and there's always the disgrace to publish." + +He blurted out the words, ashamed and indignant with her for the shame +he felt. Miranda, in spite of herself, was touched by Wilbraham's +manner, and she answered quite gently: "Very well. I will buy your +silence." + +"Coals of fire!" he replied with a sneer. Miranda understood that he +was defying her to make him feel ashamed. "Is that the ticket, Mrs. +Warriner? It won't lessen the amount of the per annum I can assure +you. What I propose is to live for the future in some more or less +quiet hole, where none of my acquaintances are likely to crop up. +Tarifa occurred to me; for one thing I can reach you from Tarifa; for +another I can do the royal act at Tarifa on a moderate income; for a +third it is a quiet place where I can have a shot at--well, at what I +want to do," and his voice suddenly became shy. She looked at him and +he coloured under her glance, and he shifted in his seat and laughed +awkwardly. + +Miranda was familiar with those signs and what they signified. +Wilbraham wanted her to ask him to confide in her. Many men at +Gibraltar had brought their troubles to her in just this way, with +just these marks of diffidence, this fear that the troubles would bore +her. She had been called upon to play the guardian-angel at times and +had not shrunk from the responsibility, though she had accepted it +with a saving modesty of humour at the notion of herself playing the +guardian-angel to any man. + +"What is it you want to do?" she asked, and Wilbraham confided in her. +The position was strange, no doubt. Here was a woman whom he had +bullied, whom he meant to rob, and on whom he meant to live until he +died, and he was confiding in her. But the words tumbled from his lips +and he did not think of the relationship in which he stood to her. He +was only aware that for fifteen years he had not shared a single one +of his intimate thoughts with either man or woman, and he was +surcharged with them. Here was a woman, frank, reliable, who asked for +his confidence, and he gave it, with a schoolboy's mixture of +eagerness and timidity. + +"Do you know," said he, "the Odes of Horace have never been well +translated into English verse by anyone? Some people have done an ode +or two very well, perhaps as well as it could be done--Hood for +instance tried his hand at it. But no one has done them all, with any +approach to success. And yet they ought to be capable of translation. +Perhaps they aren't--I don't know--perhaps they are too wonderfully +perfect. Probably I should make an awful hash of the job; but I think +I should like to have a shot. I began years and years ago when I was +an attache at Paris, and--and I have always kept the book with me; but +one has had no time." As he spoke he drew from his side pocket a +little copy of Horace in an old light-brown cover of leather very much +frayed and scratched. "Look," said he, and half stretched it out to +her, as though doubtful whether he should put it into her hands or +refuse to let her take it at all. She held out her hand, and he made +up his mind and gave it into her keeping. + +The copy was dated 1767; the rough black type, in which all the s's +looked like f's, was margined by paper brown with age and sullied with +the rims of tumblers and the stains of tobacco; and this stained +margin was everywhere written over with ink in a small fine hand. + +"You see I have made a sort of ground-work," said Wilbraham, with a +deprecating laugh, as though he feared Miranda would ridicule his +efforts. The writing consisted of tags of verse, half-lines, here and +there complete lines, and sometimes, though rarely, a complete stanza. +"You must not judge by what you see there," he made haste to add. "All +I have written on the margin is purely tentative; probably it's no +good at all." Miranda turned over a page and came upon one ode +completely translated. "I did that," explained Wilbraham, "one season +when I shipped as a hand on a Yarmouth smack. We got bad weather on +the Dogger Bank, out in the North Sea at Christmas. We spent a good +deal of time hove to with the wheel lashed, and on night-watches I +used to make up the verses. Indeed, those night-watches seem the only +time I have had free during the last fifteen years. The rest of the +time--well, I have told you about it. I got through one complete ode +out in the North Sea, and did parts of others." + +Mrs. Warriner began to read the ode. "May I?" she asked. + +"Of course," said he, with a flush of pleasure, and he watched her +most earnestly for the involuntary signs of approval or censure. But +her face betrayed neither the one nor the other; and he was quick to +apologise for the ode's shortcomings. + +"You mustn't think that I had a great deal of time on those +night-watches. For one thing we did not get over-much sleep on the +voyage, and so one's brains no doubt were a trifle dull. Besides, +there were always seas combing up above the bows and roaring along the +deck. You had to keep your eyes open for them and scuttle down the +companion before they came on board. Otherwise, if the weight of the +water took you, it was a case of this way to the pit. The whole hull +of the smack disappears, and you just see the foresail sticking up +from the hungry, lashing tumble of green water. So, you see, it stands +to reason that ode is subject to revision." + +But Miranda was not thinking of the ode. She had a vision of the smack +labouring on a black night in the trough of a black sea flecked with +white, at Christmas time, and a man on the watch, who had been an +attache at Paris, and was, even with the rude sailor-folk for his +companions, engaged in translating Horace; and the vision had an +exquisite pathos for her. + +"What was the beginning of it all?" she asked in a low voice, and +since Wilbraham was in the train of confidences, he told her that too. + +He told her perhaps more than he meant to tell. It was an old story, +the story of the faithless woman and the man who trusts her, and what +comes of it all. The story of Helen and Menelaus, but disfigured into +a caricature of its original by the paltriness of the characters and +the vulgarity of the incidents. The throb of primitive passion was +gone from the story, and therefore all dignity too. Subtle and +intricate trivialities of sentiment took the place of passion, and +made the episode infinitely mean. Menelaus was an attache at Paris: +Helen lived at Knightsbridge, and the pair of them were engaged to be +married. Helen was faithless merely through a cheap vanity, and a +cheaper pose of wilfulness, and even so she was faithless merely in a +low and despicable way. It was an infidelity of innumerable +flirtations. She passed from arm to arm without intermission, and +almost allowed those who fondled her to overlap. Yet all the day she +talked of her pride, and was conscious of no inconsistency between the +vulgarity of her conduct and the high words upon her lips. She +practised all the small necessary deceits to conceal her various +meetings and appointments, and was unaware of the degradation they +involved; for still she talked loudly of her pride. And when Menelaus +lifted his hat and wished her good-morning, she only felt that she was +deeply aggrieved. + +Menelaus, however, was in no better case. He had not the strength to +thrust her from his mind, but let his thoughts play sensuously with +his recollections, until he declined upon a greater and a greater +weakness. + +"I went back to Paris," continued Wilbraham. "I had good prospects, +but they came to nothing. Even now men going in for Mods. have to get +up a book which I once wrote, and as for the service, if I were to +tell you my real name, it is just possible that you might have heard +it, for I was supposed to have done something quite decent at +Zanzibar. Well, I went back to Paris. It's a hard thing, you know, to +discover that the woman you have been working for, and in a way +succeeding for, isn't worth the nicotine at the bottom of your +pipe-bowl. At that time I reckon I would rather have been the wreck I +am now, and believed it was all my fault, for, you see, I might then +have imagined that if I had done all right, I should have won the +desirable woman.... Anyway, after I got back to Paris, a little while +after, there was trouble." Wilbraham examined his cane and drew +diagrams upon the ground. "The woman blabbed, in a moment of +confidence ... to her husband. There was a sort of a scandal.... I had +to go. I didn't blame the woman who blabbed; no, Mrs. Warriner, I +blamed the first woman, the woman in Knightsbridge. Was I right? I +came back to England. I was a second son, and my father slammed +the door in my face. Then, Mrs. Warriner, I blamed all women, +you--you--you amongst the others, even though I didn't know you." He +spoke in a gust of extraordinary violence, and so brought his +confidences to an end. "Now your income is--" he resumed, and fetched +out his pocket-book again. "I made a note about your estate when I was +doing business with Warriner," he said. "The note comes in usefully +now." + +He found the details of which he was in search, and made a neat little +sum at the corner of the leaf, to which Miranda paid no attention +whatsoever. The queer inclination towards pity which had moved her to +ask for his confidence, had been entirely and finally destroyed by the +confidence she had asked for. The story was so utterly sordid; the +characters in it so utterly puny. Before he told it he had acquired in +her eyes even a sort of dignity, the dignity of a man battered and +defeated in a battle wherein his wits were unequally matched against +the solid forces of order; but in the telling he had destroyed that +impression. Miranda had no feeling now but one of aversion for the +wreck of a man at her side. She looked at the Horace, which still lay +open on her lap, and the contrast between the fine scholar's +handwriting and the stains of the pothouse had no longer any power to +touch her. She set the book down on the bench, and stood up. + +Wilbraham stopped his calculations, and, with the stump of his pencil +in his mouth, looked at her alertly and furtively. She took a step or +two towards the parapet of the Alameda. Wilbraham instantly laid his +pocket-book on the seat with the pencil to mark the place, and without +any noise, stood up. Miranda reached the railings at the edge of the +gardens and leaned her arms upon it. The next moment she felt a firm +grip upon her elbow. She turned round and saw Wilbraham's face ablaze +with passion. "I suspected that," he said fiercely, "when first I saw +where you had brought me," and he shook her elbow. + +"Suspected what?" exclaimed Miranda, and she drew away to free herself +from his grasp. Wilbraham's next movement answered her question. For +he slipped between her and the railings with a glance at the precipice +below. + +"But you shall not do it," he continued. "I was robbed that way once +before; I'll take care the robbery is not repeated." He leaned his +back against the railings and shook his finger at her. + +"Besides, there's no sense in it," and he jerked his head backwards to +signify the abysm. "You are crying out before you are hurt. You don't +even know how much I want; I shan't ruin you. I made a mistake that +way once; I had the best secret conceivable, and ran my man down +across two continents. Then I was fool enough to put my hand too deep +in his sky, and I suppose he thought--well, he blew his brains out +that night, and then was I robbed." + +Mrs. Warriner stared at him with a growing horror in her eyes. "You +murdered him," she said slowly. + +"We won't quarrel over words," said Wilbraham, callously. + +Miranda walked back to the bench. She was not troubled to explain +Wilbraham's misconception of her movement. She was only anxious to be +rid of him. "What income do you want?" she asked. + +"You have three thousand a year," he returned. "Of that I take it +Warriner takes a largish slice." + +Miranda flushed. "My husband has never asked for a farthing since the +_Ten Brothers_ slipped out of Gibraltar. He has never received a +farthing," she said angrily. + +"An imprudent remark," said Wilbraham. "I might feel inclined to raise +my price." + +"At all events you shall not slander him." + +Wilbraham looked at her with his head cocked on one side. "You are +very loyal," said he, with genuine admiration. "I will not raise my +price." + +Miranda did not, by any gesture or word, acknowledge his compliment. +She stood over against him with a face just as hard and white as he +had shown to her. + +"I say seven hundred a year," he said briefly. "I will call for it +myself every quarter." + +"I will send it to you," she interrupted. + +"I prefer to call for it," said he; for so he concealed his own +address and kept her within his reach. "You will not leave Ronda even +for a week without giving me due notice of your destination. I will +take a quarter's payment to-day. You draw on a bank in Ronda, I +suppose, so a cheque will serve." + +"If you will wait here, I will bring you the cheque." + +Twenty minutes afterwards she returned with it to the Alameda, where +she found Wilbraham seated on the bench with his Horace in his hand. +He put down the book awkwardly, and rose. He had the grace to feel +some discomfort as he took the cheque, and that discomfort his manner +expressed. + +Miranda had no word, no look, for him. He stood perhaps for the space +of a minute fingering the cheque. Then he said suddenly: "I can't +imagine what a woman like you sees in Ralph Warriner to trouble about. +In your place I should have let him go his own way, without paying to +keep him out of prison." + +Miranda kept her reasons to herself, as she had done with the reason +of her return to Ronda. She waited for him to go, and he walked +sullenly away--for ten yards. Then he returned, for he had left his +copy of Horace lying upon the bench. He picked it up with a curious +and almost timorous glance of appeal towards Miranda. She did not move +but waited implacably for his departure. Wilbraham worked his +shoulders in discomfort. + +"My clothes don't fit and God hates me," he cried irritably. Then this +jack-in-the-box of fortune slunk out of her sight. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + SHOWS THE USE WHICH A BLIND MAN MAY MAKE + OF A DARK NIGHT A WEEK + + +A week after Wilbraham's departure from Ronda, the night fell very dark +at Tangier. In the Sok outside the city gate, the solitary electric lamp +from its tall mast threw a pale light over a circle of the trampled +grass, but outside the circle all was black. There was no glimmer in +the tents of the shoemakers at the upper corner of the Sok; nor was +there any stir or noise. For it was past midnight and the world was +asleep--except at one spot on the hill-side above the Sok, and a +little distance to the right. + +There a small villa, standing by itself, shone gaudily in the heart of +the blackness. From its open windows a yellow flood of light streamed +out, and besides the light, the music of a single violin and the +rhythmical beat of feet. There were other noises too, such as the +popping of corks, and much laughter. + +Outside the villa, and beyond the range of its light, a man and a boy +sat patient and silent. The man for his sole clothing wore a sack, but +a dark cloak lay on the ground beside him. With his hands he +continually tested a cord twisted from palmetto fibres, as though +doubtful of its strength. At length the door of the villa opened. + +"Who comes out?" asked the man. + +"A man and a woman," answered the boy. + +"Describe the man to me." + +"Big, fat--" + +"That is enough." + +The man and the woman passed through the little garden of the villa, +and walked down across the Sok towards the city gate. The door opened +again and again. There was a continual sound of leave-taking in +different languages, mostly German and French, and between the man and +the boy the same dialogue was repeated and repeated. Some wore evening +dress, others did not. Some walked across the Sok, others rode. + +"They are all gone," said the boy. + +"Wait," commanded the man. + +"They are putting out the lights." + +"Are all the lights out?" + +"No, one light is burning." + +"Wait!" + +The door opened again, and two men in evening dress came out on to the +steps. + +"There are two men," said the boy, "but only one wears a hat." + +"Describe him to me." + +"He is not tall, he is thin, but I cannot see his face for his hat." + +"Look! look well!" + +"He goes back into the house. He takes off his hat. Wait! He is +smoking. He strikes a match and holds it to his mouth. I can see him +now." + +"Well! Of what colour is his hair?" + +"Very fair--yellow. His face is round, his eyes are light." + +The man in the sack ceased from his questions, but he gave no sign of +either approval or disappointment. He sat still in the darkness until +a voice from the little garden cried out with a French accent: "I +cannot think what has come to the beast. He has got loose. And he was +hobbled, Jeremy. You did hobble him, _hein?_" + +The boy began to laugh. "The little fat Christian is looking for the +mule in the garden," said he. "Hush!" whispered the man, laying his +hand upon the boy's mouth. "Listen! What does the other answer? Listen +for his voice." + +"He does not answer," returned the boy. "He leans against the door, +and smokes and waits, while the little fat Room searches for the +mule." + +"Help to find the mule!" + +The boy laughed again, rose from the ground, and disappeared into the +darkness. In a few minutes he returned, driving the mule in front of +him. He drove it through the wicket of the garden. A few words passed +between the little Frenchman and the boy. Then the boy came back to +the man seated patiently outside the rim of the villa's lights. + +"What did he say to thee?" said the man. + +"He asked me if I had stolen the hobbles." + +"And thou didst answer?" + +"That I knew nothing of the hobbles. I said that I had found the mule +loose in the Sok, and seeing the lights, brought it to the house." + +"It is well. Now go, my son; go home and sleep, and forget the hours +we have waited in the darkness outside the villa of the Room. Forget, +so that in the morning they shall never have been. Go! God will reward +thee!" + +The boy turned upon his heel, and ran down towards the town. The man +was left alone. He remained squatting on the ground. He heard the +French voice exclaim: "Good-night, Jeremy." + +But no answering voice returned the wish. Jeremy indeed contented +himself with a careless nod of the head, mounted his mule, and passed +out of the wicket gate. Jeremy passed within ten yards of the man +seated upon the ground, who heard the padding of the mule's feet upon +the grass and smelt the cigar. + +He did not move, however. A road ran between this stretch of grass and +the Sok beyond, and he waited until the mule's hooves rang upon it. +Then he picked up the dark cloak by his side and ran swiftly and +noiselessly down the grass, across the road, over the trampled Sok. +Ahead of him he heard the leisurely amble of the mule. + +"Stop!" he cried out in the Moghrebbin dialect. "I have the hobbles of +the most noble one." + +He heard the mule stop, and ran lightly forward. + +"Who is it?" asked Jeremy, in the same tongue, as he bent round in his +saddle. + +"Hassan Akbar," cried the other, leaping at the point from which the +voice came. "Bentham, it is Hassan Akbar." + +The man addressed as Bentham turned quickly in his saddle with a cry +and gathered up the reins; but he was too late. Even the cry was +stifled upon his lips. For Hassan threw the cloak over his head, +gathered it in tight round his neck, and still holding him by the +neck, dragged him out of the saddle and flung him on to the ground. +Bentham, half-throttled, half-stunned, lay for a moment or two upon +his back, limp and unresisting. When he came to himself, it was no +longer within his power to resist, for Hassan knelt straddled across +his body, pinning him to the ground with the weight of his stature. +One bony knee pressed upon his chest insufferably. Bentham's ribs +cracked under it; he felt that his ribs were being driven into his +lungs. The other knee held down his thighs, and while he lay there +incapable of defence, Hassan bound his arms tightly together with the +cord of palmetto fibres. + +Bentham tried to shout, but the cloak was over his mouth: the knee was +grinding and boring into his chest, and his shout was an exiguous wail +which, when it had penetrated the cloak, was no more than a sigh. He +waited for the moment when the knee would be removed, and waited +motionless without a twitch of his muscles, so that Hassan might be +deceived into the belief that he had swooned, and remove his knee and +the cloak. + +Hassan removed his knees, bent down to Bentham, twined one arm about +his legs, thrust the other underneath his neck, and lifted him from +the ground as though he was a child. Bentham was now less able to +shout than before, for the hand of the arm which was about his neck +pressed the cloak close upon his mouth. + +Bentham struggled for his breath; Hassan's arms only tightened their +grip and held him like a coil of wire. An utter terror seized upon +Bentham. He remembered the darkness of the night, the lateness of the +hour, the silence of the Sok, and from the manner of Hassan's walk, he +knew that he was being carried up the hill and away from Tangier. He +was helpless in the hands of a Moor whom he had irreparably wronged. +Death he knew he must expect; the question which troubled him was what +kind of death. + +Hassan's foot struck against a rope drawn tight across his path, and +in Bentham hope for a moment revived. The rope was the stay of a tent, +no doubt. What if Hassan had lost his way and stumbled among the tents +of the shoemakers? But Hassan loosened the grip of the arm which held +his legs, and Bentham heard him fumbling with his hand for the +door-flap of the tent. Plainly Hassan had not missed his way. + +Hassan dropt him on the ground, thrust him through the small opening, +and crawled in after him. Then he knelt beside Bentham, turned back +the cloak from his face, but tied it securely about his mouth. Bentham +could now see, and the flap of the tent was open. The tent was indeed +one of the low, tiny gunny-bag tents of the shoemakers, but it was set +far apart from that small cluster, as Bentham recognized in despair, +for through the aperture he could see a long way below him and a long +way to his right the electric light in the middle of the Sok. + +Outside the tent there was a sound of something moving. Bentham sat up +and tore at his gag with his bound hands. + +"Why cry for help to a mule?" said Hassan, calmly. "Will a mule help +thee?" He leaned forward and tightened the knot which fastened the +cloak at the back of his head. Then he crawled out of the tent and +Bentham heard him tethering the mule to one of the tent-pegs. + +Bentham was thus left alone. He had a few seconds, and he had at once +to determine what use he would make of those seconds. There was not +enough time wherein to free his hands. It would have been sheer waste +of time to free his mouth from the cloak. For none was within earshot +of that tent who would be concerned to discover the reason of a cry, +and the cry would not be repeated, since Hassan outside the tent was +still within arm's reach. + +Instead, he hitched and worked his white waistcoat upwards from the +bottom, leaning forward the while, until his watch fell from the +pocket and dangled on the end of the chain; after his watch a metal +pencil-case rolled out and dropped between his knees. One of the two +things he meant to do was done. Hassan had bound his hands not palm +to palm, but wrist across wrist; and raising his hands he was able +with the tips of his right-hand fingers to feel in the left-hand +breast-pocket of his dress-coat. His fingers touched a small +pocket-book, opened it, and plucked out a leaf of paper. This leaf and +the pencil-case he secreted in the palm of his hand. + +Hassan crawled back into the tent and closed the flap. Bentham, with +his knees drawn up to his chin, crouched back against the wall of the +tent. Now that the flap was closed, it was pitch-dark; that, however, +made no difference to Hassan Akbar, who lived in darkness, and out of +the darkness his voice spoke. + +"The ways of God are very wonderful. You gave me this tent. With the +dollar you dropped on my knees at the gate of the cemetery, I bought +this tent and set it up here apart, to keep you safe for the little +time before you start upon your journey." + +Bentham took no comfort from the passionless voice, though his heart +leaped at the words. He was not then to be killed. He did not answer +Hassan, but remained crouched in his corner. + +"Now the dog of a Christian will speak," said Hassan, quietly. Bentham +made no movement. Hassan crawled towards him, felt his feet, his +up-drawn knees, and reaching his face untied the cloak from his mouth. +"Now the dog of a Christian will speak," he repeated softly, in a low +gentle voice, "so that I may know it is indeed Bentham, who took +shelter with me at Tangier, and ate of my _kouss-kouss_, and +thereafter betrayed me." + +Bentham did not reply. If Hassan had a doubt, then it was his part to +make the most of it to prolong the solution of the doubt, to defer it, +if it might be, till the morning came. This was summer--July--the +morning comes early in July, not so early as in June, but still early. +Would that this had happened one month back! + +Hassan kneeled upon his hams by Bentham's side. "Will not the dog of a +Christian speak?" he asked in a wheedling voice, which daunted and +chilled the man he spoke to. "Let us see!" And again his sinuous hands +lingered and stole over Bentham's face. The thumbs lingered about +Bentham's eyes. + +Bentham shivered; but still, though the desire to shout, to curse, to +relieve by some violence, if only of speech, the tension he was +suffering, was strong, he mastered himself, he held his tongue, for if +once he did speak he betrayed himself. His only chance lay in Hassan's +doubt, which lived upon his silence. Again Hassan's fingers returned +to his face. Bentham closed his eyes; the thumbs touched and retouched +them, now pressing gently upon the eyeballs, now working about the +corners of the sockets. Finally Hassan snatched his hands away. "If I +did that," he murmured, "they would not take him, for he would fetch +no price;" and Bentham understood the fate which was in store for +him--if he spoke. + +Hassan left his side, and was busy in a corner of the tent, at what +Bentham could not for the moment discover. He heard a cracking of +twigs; what was to follow? One instant he dreaded, the next he burned +to know, and all the while he shivered with terror. Hassan struck a +match and lit the twigs, and breathed upon the little blue flames, +until they warmed to yellow, and spirted up into a fire. + +Bentham watched Hassan's gaunt, disfigured, inexpressive face, as he +crouched over the twigs, and his terror increased. He saw that he held +something in each hand, something that flashed bright, like a disk of +iron. Hassan laid the disks upon the twigs; they were the hobbles +which Bentham had placed upon his mule early that evening. + +Bentham began to count the seconds; at any moment the morning might +begin to break, surely, surely. As he watched the hobbles growing hot +and the sparks dance upon the iron, he continued to count the seconds, +not knowing what he did, and at an incredible speed. + +Hassan picked up the hobbles, each with a cleft stick, and brought +them over to Bentham. "Now the dog of a Christian will speak," said +he. + +Bentham summoned all his courage, all his strength, and was silent. +Hassan reached out his hands, and drew his legs from under him, and +fitted the hobbles over his slippers, and fixed them round his ankles +like a pair of fetters. + +Bentham uttered a cry--it was almost a scream--as the iron burnt into +his flesh. He kicked, he struggled to free his legs, to free his +hands; but Hassan Akbar dragged him forward, thrust him down upon his +back, and pinned his shoulders to the ground. Bentham could do no more +than vainly writhe in convulsive movements of his limbs. The hot iron +rings clung to his ankles; the smoke from the wood fire choked him; +the smell of burning flesh was acrid in his nostrils. Agony redoubled +his strength, but even so, he was too crippled, and Hassan's grasp +upon his shoulders did not relax. + +In the end Hassan had his heart's desire, and Bentham spoke. He spoke +too in the low voice which Hassan enjoined, though he used it without +thought to obey,--low, voluble, earnest prayers for mercy, and then +again voluble curses, and again voluble appeals for pity, and at the +end of it a broken whimpering, as though his strength was gone, and +the convulsive jerks which a fish makes in a basket. + +All the while Hassan held him down, listening to the appeals, the +prayers, the curses, with an untouched gravity of face. "It is indeed +you; I have made no mistake," and he freed him from the burning +fetters, and opened the flap of the tent. Bentham rolled over on his +side with his face to the opening, and lay there shaking, moaning. +"Now I will tell you what I have planned for you," continued Hassan. +"I thought at first to kill you, but it is so small a thing. Then I +remembered words you once told me, that you had trouble with your own +people, and could not ask them for protection. So friends of mine from +Beni Hassan, who go upon their way to-night, will take you with them, +and sell you when they are far away. And for the rest of your days you +will carry loads upon your back up and down the inlands of Morocco, +and your masters will beat you, and if you faint and are tired, they +will do strange things to make you suffer, even as I did with the +hobbles. Lo, here my friends come!" + +The sound of steps came to their ears. A few moments later a hand +fumbled at the flap of the tent, opened it, and a head was thrust in. +"Is it you, Hassan Akbar?" + +"Yes," replied Hassan; "and here is the Room whom you promised to take +out of my path. He will fetch a price, and besides I give to you his +mule, which you will find tethered to the tent." + +"And the saddle too, Hassan, is it not so?" + +"It is." + +Meanwhile Hassan cut Bentham's clothes from him as he lay upon the +ground, and taking off his own sack, cast it for a garment over +Bentham's shoulders, and wrapped himself in the dark cloak. In the +place of that cloak he tied over Bentham's mouth a thick rag. Then he +thrust him out of the tent, and jerked him on to his feet. Bentham +made no longer any resistance; he let them do with him as they were +pleased; and he stood tottering and swaying. + +Five Arabs waited outside the tent. "He cannot walk, he shall ride the +mule this night," said the chief of them. "To-morrow he shall learn to +walk." + +They hoisted Bentham on to the back of the mule, and tied him there +with leathern thongs. Then they started on their long journey. + +The cool night air after the stifling tent revived the man who +perforce rode the mule. It did not give him strength to resist, or as +yet even the impulse to cry out; but it restored to him the power to +hear and to understand. What he heard was a distant clock below him in +Tangier striking an hour; what he understood was that the hour it +struck was only one o'clock. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + M. FOURNIER EXPOUNDS THE ADVANTAGES WHICH + EACH SEX HAS OVER THE OTHER + + +The long interview with Wilbraham in the Alameda of Ronda had +consequences for Miranda which she felt but did not trace to their +source. It was not merely that she sickened at the vulgar, futile +story of his ruin; that she saw in imagination the wretched victim he +had run to earth across two continents, closing the door and slipping +the pistol-barrel between his teeth; that she loathed the knowledge +that this man was henceforward her gaoler; but she took him and the +bitter years of her marriage together in her thoughts, and using them +as premisses began doubtfully to draw universal conclusions. + +These conclusions Miranda hazarded at times in the form of questions +to her companion Jane Holt, and sought answers from her as from one +who had great experience of the tortuous conduct of men. Were men +trustworthy at all? If so, were there any means by which a woman could +test their trustworthiness? These two questions were the most constant +upon Miranda's tongue, and Jane Holt answered them with assurance, and +in her own way. + +Wilbraham had not erred when he described her as a sentimentalist with +grievances. Sentimentalism was the shallows of her nature, and she had +no depths. Her conversation ran continually upon the "big things," as +she termed them, such as devotion, endurance, self-sacrifice, and the +rest, in which qualities men were singularly deficient. She meant, +however, only devotion to her, endurance of her, self-sacrifice for +her, of which it was not unnatural that men should tire, seeing who it +was that demanded them. Yet she had enjoyed her share, and more than +her share. For though incapable of passion herself, she had in her +youth possessed the trick of inspiring it, but without the power, +perhaps through her own incapacity, of keeping it alive, and no doubt +too because upon a moderate acquaintance she conveyed an impression of +inherent falsity. For, being a sentimentalist, she lived in a false +world, on the borders of a lie, never quite telling it perhaps, and +certainly never quite not telling it. She was by nature exigent, for +she was in her own eyes the pivot of her little world, and for the +wider world beyond, she had no eyes whatever. And her exigence took +amusing or irritating shapes according to the point of view of those +who suffered it. For instance, you must never praise her costumes, of +which she had many, and those worthy of praise, but the high qualities +of her mind, which were few and often of no taste whatever. It should +be added that she had always favoured an inferior before an equal. For +it pleased her above all things to condescend, since she secured thus +a double flattery, in the knowledge of her own condescension, and in +the grateful humility of those to whom she condescended. + +It can be foreseen, then, what answers this woman,--who was tall, and +still retained the elegance of her figure, and would have still +retained the good looks of her face, but that it was written upon by +many grievances--would give to Miranda's questions. + +"You can trust no men. You must bribe them with cajoleries; you must +play the coquette; you must enlist their vanity. They are all trivial, +and the big things do not appeal to them." + +Miranda listened. She was accustomed to Jane Holt, and had no longer a +reasoned conception of her character. Habit had dulled her +impressions. She remembered only that Jane Holt had had much +experience of men wherein she herself was wofully deficient. Jane Holt +embroidered her theme; a pretty display of petulance, the seemingly +accidental disclosure of an ankle, a voluntary involuntary pressure of +the arm, these things had power to persuade the male mind, such as it +is, and to enmesh that worthless thing the male heart. + +"One might have a man for a friend, perhaps," suggested Miranda, +hopefully. + +"My poor Miranda!" exclaimed Miss Holt. "No wonder your marriage was a +failure. Men pretend friendship for a woman at times, but they mean +something else." + +The moral was always that they were not to be trusted, and Miranda, +vividly recollecting Ralph Warriner and Wilbraham, listened and +wondered, listened and wondered, until she would rise of a sudden and +take refuge in her own parlour, of which the window looked out across +the valley to the hills, where she would sit with a throbbing forehead +pressed upon her palms, certain, certain, that the homily was not +true, and yet half distracted lest it should be true. + +On the morrow of one such conversation, and one such flight, Miss Holt +came into the little parlour--a cool, dark-panelled, low-roofed room +of which the door gave on to the patio--and found Miranda searching +the room. + +"Do you know what month this is?" Miss Holt asked severely. + +"October." + +"Quite so," and great emphasis was laid upon the words. + +"I know," replied Miranda, penitently, as she crossed over to a table +and lifted the books. "We have been here all the summer; it has been +very hot. I am sorry, but I was compelled to stay. I did not know what +might occur, and," she anxiously turned over the letters and papers on +her writing-table in the window, "it was some comfort, I admit, to +feel that one was near--" She stopped suddenly and resumed in +confusion, "I mean I did not know what might happen." + +Jane Holt looked at her with great displeasure, but said nothing +until Miranda began hurriedly to open and shut the drawers of her +writing-table. Then she said irritably: "What in the world are you +looking for?" + +Miranda stood up and looked round the room. "There was a glove," she +said absently. + +"Yes, I threw it away." + +"Threw it away!" Miranda stared at Jane Holt with a look of complete +dismay. "You don't mean that. Oh, you can't mean it!" + +"Indeed I do; it was torn across the palm." + +"I left it lying there, on my writing-desk, yesterday, after you and I +had been talking--" She left the sentence unfinished. + +"Yes, and I found it there. It was torn, so I had it thrown away." + +Miranda rang a hand-bell, and ordered search to be made for the glove. +It could not be found; it had been burnt with the answered letters. + +"Very well," said Miranda, and the servant retired. Miranda sat down, +and showed to Jane Holt a face of which the expression was almost +scared. + +"What does it matter?" exclaimed Jane. "The glove was torn; you could +never have used it." + +"No," answered Miranda, quickly, almost guiltily it seemed. "I should +never have used it; I never meant to use it. The glove was only a +symbol; it was no more than that, it represented a belief. I can +retain the belief, no doubt. No doubt, though, I have lost the +glove--" + +"What in the world are you talking about?" interrupted Jane Holt. + +"Nothing, nothing," answered Miranda, with a start. The loss of the +glove had so dismayed her that she had forgotten who it was she had +been speaking to, or indeed that she was speaking to anyone. She had +merely uttered her thoughts, for she had come to look upon that glove, +which, under no circumstances, would she use, as none the less a +safeguard, and of late, in particular, she had fallen into a habit of +taking it from the drawer in which it rested and setting it before her +eyes; of stating it, as it were, as a refutation of Jane Holt's ready +opinions. + +Jane Holt shook her head. "You have changed very much towards me, +Miranda. You are growing secret. I don't want to know. I would not +press anyone for their confidence; but I may think it strange, I +suppose?" She folded her arms across her breast and tapped with her +fingers upon her elbows. "I suppose I may think it strange; and if +anyone took the trouble to give me a thought, perhaps anyone might +believe that I had a right to feel hurt. But I don't! Please don't run +away with that idea! No, I cannot allow you, Miranda, to fancy for a +moment that I should feel hurt. But I do notice that you jump whenever +there is a knock at the door. There! What did I say?" + +The door of the parlour stood open to the patio; in the corner of the +opposite side of the patio there was the mouth of a passage which led +to the outer door; and upon that outer door just at this moment +someone rapped heavily, as though he came in haste. Miranda started +nervously, and to cover the movement, rose from her chair and closed +the door. + +"And as for the glove," resumed Jane Holt, who found it difficult to +leave any subject alone when it was evident that it was unwelcome, +"you could never have used it." + +"No," answered Miranda, thoughtfully. "Of course--of course, I could +never have used it;" and a servant entered the room and handed to her +a card on which was engraved M. Fournier's name and address. + +Miranda held the card beneath her eyes for some little while. Then she +walked out into the patio, where M. Fournier awaited her. He came +towards her at once, in an extreme agitation, but she signed to him to +be silent, and opening a second door on the same side of the patio as +the door of her parlour, but farther to the right, she led the way +into a tiny garden rich with deep colours. Jonquils, camellias, roses, +wild geraniums, and pinks, tended with a care which bespoke a mistress +from another country, made a gay blaze in the sun, and sweetened the +air with their delicate perfumes. + +The garden was an irregular nook with something or the shape of a +triangle, enclosed between the back wall of the house and a wing flung +out at a right angle. The base of the triangle was an old brick wall, +breast-high, which began at the end of the house wall and curved +outwards until it reached the wing. Over this wall the eye looked +through air to the olive-planted slope of a mountain. For the house +was built on the brink of the precipice, it was in a line with the +Alameda, though divided from it by the great chasm, and if one leaned +over the crumbling wall built long ago by the Moors, one had an +impression that one ought to see the waves churning at the foot of the +rock and to hear a faint moaning of the sea; so that the sight of the +level carpet of the plain continually surprised the eyes. + +Into this garden Miranda brought M. Fournier. No windows overlooked +it, for those which gave light to Miranda's parlour were in the end +and the other side of the wing, and so commanded the valley without +commanding this enclosure. A little flagged causeway opened a path +between the flowers to the nook between the wing of the house and the +old wall, where two lounge chairs invited use. + +Miranda seated herself in one of these chairs and with a gesture +offered the other to M. Fournier. M. Fournier, however, took no heed +of the invitation. He had eyes only for Miranda's face. He held his +hat in one hand, and with a coloured handkerchief continually mopped +his forehead, a dusty perspiring image of anxiety. + +"You come from my husband?" said Miranda. + +M. Fournier's face lightened. "Ah, then, you know--" + +"That he is alive? Yes. You come from him?" + +"From him, no; on his behalf, yes." + +Miranda smiled at the subtle distinction. "You need money, of course," +she said drily. "How much do you want? You have, no doubt, some +authority from my husband." + +The little Belgian's anxiety gave place to offended pride. "We do not +need money, neither he nor I; but as for authority, perhaps this will +serve." + +He drew from his pocket a soiled scrap of paper and handed it to +Miranda. The paper, as she could see from the blue lines, the shape, +and the jagged border, had been torn from a small pocketbook. It was +so crumpled and soiled that a few words scribbled with a pencil on the +outside in Arabic were barely visible. Miranda unfolded the paper +slowly, for the mere look of it was sinister. The words within were +written also in pencil, and her face altered as she read them. + +"What does J. B. mean?" she asked. + +"J. B. are the initials of the name he took." + +"You are sure this comes from my husband? I do not recognise his +hand." + +"Quite sure." + +"Here is bad news," said she, and she conned the words over again, and +could nowhere pick out the familiar characteristics of Ralph +Warriner's handwriting. The words themselves were startling. _Reward +the bearer well, and for God's sake do quickly what you can_. But more +startling, more significant, than the words was the agitation of the +writer's hand. Haste and terror had kept the hand wavering. Here the +pencil had paused, yet even when pausing, its point had trembled on +the paper, as the blurred dots showed. Miranda imagined that so it had +paused and trembled, while someone walked by the writer's back and had +but to glance over his shoulder to discover the business he was +engaged upon. Then again the pencil had raced on, running the words +one into the other, fevered to get the message done. A whole tragedy +was indicated in the formation of the letters. Or a malady? Miranda +turned eagerly to the letter. The writing wavered up and down. The +small letters were clear; the capitals and the long letters, the +"f's," the "q's," the "y's," weak, as though the fingers could not +control the pencil. Illness might account for the message, and Miranda +chose that supposition. + +"He is lying very ill somewhere," she said. + +M. Fournier shook his head. "No. I tried to believe that myself at +first; but I never did believe it, and I thought and thought and +thought--_Tenez_, look!" He drew a piece of blank paper from one +pocket, a pencil from another. The paper he spread upon his knee, the +pencil he took between his teeth; then he held out his wrists. + +"Now fasten them together." + +Miranda uttered a cry. Her face grew very white. "What with?" she +asked. + +"Your belt." + +She unclasped her belt from her waist and strapped Fournier's wrists +together. + +"Tighter," said he, "tighter. Now see!" + +With great difficulty and labour he copied out Warriner's message on +the blank paper; and while he wrote Miranda saw the sentence wavering +up and down, the small letters coming out clear and small, the long +strokes and tails straggling. She seized the copy almost before he had +finished, and held it side by side with the original. There was a +difference, of course, the difference which stamped one man's hand as +Warriner's and the other as Fournier's, the difference of fear, but +that was the only difference. The method in each case was identical; +the same difficulties had produced the same results. + +"There can be no doubt, _hein?_" asked Fournier, as Miranda unfastened +the belt. + +"How did this come to you?" she returned. + +"I tell you," said he, "from the beginning. Bentham--that is what M. +Warriner calls himself now, Bentham--Jeremy Bentham he calls himself, +because he says he's such an economist--well, he and I are partners in +a little business, and we have prospered. So when Bentham came back +from Bemin Sooar to Tangier a week ago, I give a dinner in my house to +a few friends and we dance afterwards. Perhaps ten or eleven of us and +Bentham. Bentham he came and danced and he was the last to go away. He +did not stay in my house--it was better for our little business that +we should not be thought more than mere friends. He had a lodging in +the town, while my house was outside up the hill. He rode away alone +on a mule, for he was in evening dress and one cannot walk across the +Sok in dancing shoes, and he never reached his lodging. He +disappeared. I heard no word of him, until yesterday; yesterday about +mid-day, an Arab brought that scrap of paper to my shop." + +"But the Arab told you how and where he got it?" said Miranda. + +"Yes. He belonged to a douar, a tent village, you understand. The +village is three days from Tangier on the road to Mequinez. The Arab +was leading down his goats to the water a week ago, in the morning, +when six men passed him at a distance. They were going up into the +country; they had a mule with them. He watched them pass and noticed +that one of them would now and then loiter and fall a little behind, +whereupon the rest beat him with sticks and drove him again in front. +And he did not resist, Madame, I am afraid we know why he did not +resist." + +Miranda pressed her hands to her forehead. + +"Well," she said with an effort, and her voice had sunk to a whisper, +"finish, finish!" + +"It seemed to the Arab," continued Fournier, whose anxiety seemed in +some measure to diminish, and whose face grew hopeful as he watched +Miranda's increasing distress, "that this victim made a sign to him, +and when the party had gone by he noticed something white gleaming on +the brown soil in the line of their march. He went forward and picked +it up. It was this piece of paper. He read the writing on it, these +marks." M. Fournier turned over the sheet, and pointed to the +indecipherable Arabic. "They mean, 'Take this to Fournier at Tangier +and you will get money.' He opened it, he could not read the inside, +but seeing that it was written in one of the languages of the +Nazarenes, he thought there might be some truth in the promise. So he +brought the paper to Tangier yesterday and I have brought it to you." + +M. Fournier settled his glasses upon his nose and leaned forward for +his answer. Miranda sat with knitted brows, gazing out to the dark +mountains. Fournier would not interrupt her; he fancied she was +searching her wits for a device to bring help to Warriner; but, +indeed, she was not thinking at all. + +Miranda had a trick of seeing pictures. She was not given to arguments +and inferences; but a word, a sentence, would strike upon her hearing, +and at once a curtain was rolled up somewhere in her mind, and she saw +men moving to and fro and things happening as upon a lighted stage. +Such pictures made up her arguments, her conclusions, even her +motives; and it was because of their instant vividness that she was so +rapidly moved to sympathy and dislike. So now there was set before her +eyes the picture of a man riding down the hill of Tangier at night in +the civilisation of evening dress, and, as she looked, it melted into +another in which the same man, clad in vile rags, with his hands +bound, was flogged forwards under a burning sun into the barbaric +inlands of Morocco. She saw that brutal party, the five gaolers, the +one captive, straggle past the tent village. She guessed at Ralph's +despairing glance as though it was directed towards herself, she saw +the scrap of paper flutter white upon the dark soil. And as she +contemplated this vision, she heard M. Fournier speaking again to her; +but the sound of his voice had changed. He was no longer telling his +story; he was pleading with a tenderness which had something +grotesquely pathetic, when she considered who it was for whom he +pleaded. His foreign accent became more pronounced, and the voluble +words tumbled one over the other. + +"So M. Warriner does not ask you for money; that sees itself, is it +not? Nor even does he ask you for help. Be sure of that, Madame; read +the note again. He would not come to you for help; he is not so mean; +he has too much pride;" and as Mrs. Warriner smiled, with perhaps a +little bitterness, M. Fournier, noticing her smile, became yet more +astonishing and intricate in his apologies. "He take your money, oh +yes, I know very well, while he is with you; but then you get his +company in exchange. That make you both quits, eh? But once he has +gone away, he would not come back to you for money or help at all. He +has so much pride. Oh no! He just take it from the first person he +meet, me or anyone else. He has so much pride; besides, it would be +simpler. No! It is I who come to you. He often speak to me of you--oh, +but in the highest terms! And I say to myself: That dear Ralph, he is +difficult to live with. He is not a comfortable friend. We know that, +Mrs. Warriner and I, but we both love him very much--" + +"No!" + +The emphatic interruption fairly startled M. Fournier. Miranda had +risen from her seat and stood over him. He would not have believed +that so gentle a face could have taken on so vigorous an expression. +He stammered a protest. Miranda repeated her denial: "No, no, no!" she +cried. "Let us be frank!" + +She turned aside from him, and leaning her elbows upon the crumbling +parapet of the wall, looked across the valley and down the cliff's +side where one road was cut in steep zigzags, and winding down to the +plain as to the water's edge, helped to complete the illusion that the +sea should fitly be breaking at the base. + +M. Fournier's hopes dwindled in the face of this uncompromising +denial. He had come to enlist her help; he had counted upon her +affections, and had boldly counted, because Warriner had so surely +attracted his own. M. Fournier would have been at a loss to explain +his friendship for Warriner, to account for the causes or the +qualities which evoked it, but he felt its strength, and he now knew +that Mrs. Warriner had no lot or share in it. + +He was therefore the more surprised when she turned back to him with +eyes which were shining and moist, and said very gently: "But of +course I will help." Her conduct was not at all inconsistent, however +much it might appear so to M. Fournier. She was acting upon the same +motive which had induced her, the moment she was aware of Ralph +Warriner's existence, to return to Ronda, the one spot where Warriner +would be sure to look for her if he needed her, and which had +subsequently persuaded her to submit to the blackmail of Major +Wilbraham. "Of course I will help. What can I do?" + +M. Fournier's eyes narrowed, his manner became wary and cunning. "I +hoped that you might perhaps hit upon some plan," he suggested. + +"I?" Miranda thought for a moment, then she said: "We must appeal to +the English Minister at Tangier." + +M. Fournier sprang out of his chair. "No, that is the very last thing +we must do. For what should we say? That Mr. Ralph Warriner, who was +thought to be dead, has just been kidnapped in Morocco?" + +"No, but that Mr. Bentham has," she returned quickly. + +M. Fournier shrugged his shoulders. "Why am I here?" he exclaimed, +stamping his foot. "I ask you, why am I here? _Saperlipopette!_ Would +I have come to you if any so simple remedy had been possible? Suppose +we go politely to the English Minister and ask him to find Mr. Jeremy +Bentham! The Minister goes to the Sultan of Morocco, and after many +months, perhaps Mr. Bentham is found, perhaps he is not. Suppose that +he is found and brought down to Tangier,--what next, I beg you? There +will be talk about Mr. Bentham, there will be gentlemen everywhere, +behind bushes, under tables, everywhere, so that the great British +public may know the colours of the ties he wears, and at last be +happy. His name will be in the papers, and more, Mrs. Warriner, his +portrait too. His portrait; have you thought of that?" + +"But he might escape the photographers." + +"Suppose he do, by a miracle. Do you think there will be no inquiry as +to what is Mr. Bentham's business in Morocco? Do you think the English +Minister will not ask the inconvenient question? Do you think that you +can hide his business, once an inquiry is set on foot, in that +country? He might pass as a tourist, you think perhaps, _hein?_ And +any one man has only got to give a few dollars to some officer in the +custom-house, and he will know that Mr. Bentham is smuggling guns into +Morocco, and selling them to the Berbers of Bemin Sooar. What then? He +would be taken for trial to Gibraltar, where only two years ago he was +Captain Warriner." + +Miranda had already heard enough from Wilbraham to confirm M. +Fournier's statement about the custom-house. + +"No," continued Fournier, "the risk is too great. And I call it risk!" +He hunched his shoulders and spread out his hand. "It is a red-hot +cert, as he would say. His identity would be established, and he had +better, after all, be a captive in Morocco than a convict in England. +There is some chance of an escape in Morocco." + +"There is also in Morocco some chance of a--" Miranda's lips refused +to speak the word. M. Fournier supplied it. + +"Murder? I do not fear that. Had they intended murder, they would have +killed that night, then and there, in the Sok of Tangier. There would +have been no letter dropped three days inland." + +Miranda eagerly welcomed the argument. "Yes, yes," she exclaimed, and +the colour came back to her lips. "He is held for ransom then, +surely?" + +M. Fournier shook his head. "Hardly. Had they captured him for ransom, +they would have got from him the names of his friends. They would have +used measures," said he, with some emphasis upon the word, at which +Miranda shivered; "sure measures to get the names, and Warriner would +have given mine. They would have come to me for the ransom, and I +should have given it--if it was everything I had--and Warriner would +be safe by now." + +Fournier was aware that Miranda looked curiously and even with a sort +of compunction towards him, though he did not understand the reason of +her look. To him it was the most natural, simple thing in the world +that he should care for Warriner. + +"No, it is not ransom," and he threw a cautious glance this way and +that, and then, even in that secret spot, continued in a whisper: +"Warriner has enemies, enemies of his own race. I do not wonder at +it," he explained impartially. "He treats me, yes, even me, who am his +one friend, as though--well, his own phrase is the best. He wipes the +floor with me. He has promised to do it many times, and many times he +has done it too. No doubt he has enemies, and they have arranged his +capture." + +"Why?" + +"Suppose they sell him for a slave, a long way off and a long way +inland. It would not be pleasant at all, and most of all unpleasant to +him, for he is particular. Of course you know that, Mrs. Warriner. He +likes his linen very clean and fine. He would not enjoy being a slave, +yet he could not appeal to his Government, even if he got the chance." + +"Oh, don't, please!" cried Miranda. That intimate detail about Ralph's +habits brought home to her most convincingly his present plight. "But +what enemies?" she asked in a moment or two. "Is it a guess of yours, +or do you know of any?" + +M. Fournier hitched his chair nearer. His voice became yet more +confidential. + +"Three months ago an Englishman came to my shop." + +"Three months ago?" interrupted Miranda. "He leaned over your counter +and he said, 'How did you work that little affair on Rosevear, and +how's my dear friend, Ralph Warriner?'" + +"Ah, you know him!" cried Fournier, springing up in excitement. + +"Yes, and he has nothing to do with Ralph's capture," replied Miranda. +"He only went that one time to Tangier." M. Fournier resumed his seat, +and she briefly explained to the Belgian the reason and the +consequence of Wilbraham's visit. Fournier's face fell as he listened. +He had hoped that the necessary clue had been discovered, and when +Miranda finished he sat silent in a glum despair. After a little his +face lightened. + +"Only once you say he came to Tangier, this man you speak of--only +once?" he asked eagerly, stretching out his hand. + +"Only the once." + +"He was not there earlier in the year? He was not there in May? Think +carefully. Be very sure!" + +Mrs. Warriner reflected for a second. "I am sure he was not," she +replied. "He travelled by train from Monte Carlo to Marseilles in May. +From Marseilles he came directly by boat to England." + +"Good," said M. Fournier. He sat forward in his chair and rubbed the +palms of his hands together. "Now listen! There was another Englishman +who came in May. He came to my shop, though the shutter was on the +window and the shop closed." + +"Who was he?" asked Mrs. Warriner. + +"I cannot guess." + +"Tell me what he was like." + +"Ah! there's the trouble. Neither of us saw him. Warriner heard his +voice, that is all. And a voice? There is no clue more deceptive. The +one thing Warriner is sure of is that he had never heard the voice +before." + +"But what was it that he heard?" + +"I tell you. Warriner came down to Tangier that very morning from the +country. He travelled as always in the dress of a Moor, for he speaks +their tongues, no Moor better, and our little business, you +understand, needs secrecy. I closed my shop, shuttered the window, +locked the door. Warriner told me he had arranged with the sheikhs of +the Berber tribes to deliver so many Winchesters, so much ammunition, +within a certain period. The period was short; Warriner's boat, the +_Ten Brothers_, was waiting at Tarifa. I leave him to change his dress +and shave his beard, while I go down to the harbour and hire a felucca +to put him over to Tarifa. But Warriner forgot to lock the door behind +me. In a minute or two he hear a hand scrape softly, oh so softly, up +the door towards the latch. For a second he stood, with the razor in +his hand like this," and the Belgian, in the absorption of his +narrative began to act the scene, "looking at the latch, waiting for +it to rise, and listening. Then he remembered that he had not locked +the door. He crept on tip-toe towards it; just as he reached it he +heard a loud English voice shout to him violently, 'Look out!' That +phrase is a menace, eh?" he stopped to ask. + +"It might be. It would more naturally be a warning," said Mrs. +Warriner. + +"In either case it means an enemy. As he shouted Warriner's hand was +already on the key. Warriner turn the lock, and immediately the +Englishman batter and knock at the door, but he could not get in, and +after a little he went away. Ah! how often we have wondered who that +man was, and why he shouted out his threat and tried to force the +door. To know that you have one enemy at your heels, but you cannot +pick him out because you have not seen his face! That frightens me, +Madame Warriner. I am a coward, and it is no wonder that it frightens +me." The perspiration broke out on Fournier's forehead as he made his +frank confession. "But it frightens Warriner too, who is no coward. +Often and often have I seen him lift up a finger, so," he suited the +action to the word, "when a new voice speak within his hearing, and +listen, listen, listen, to make sure whether that was the voice which +shouted through the door or no. But a voice! You cannot be certain you +recognise it, unless you can recognise also the face of the man to +whom it belongs. A singer's voice, yes! Perhaps you might know that +again though you heard it for the first time blindfold. But a voice +that merely speaks or shouts, no!" + +M. Fournier picked up his hat and rose from his chair. Miranda rose +too, and they stood face to face with one another under the awning. + +"So I ask you this. Will you help to recover your husband?" he asked, +with a simplicity of appeal which went home to Miranda all the more, +because it did not presume to claim her help. "Either a search must be +made privately through Morocco until he is found and bought, and such +a search seems hopeless; or the unknown man who shouted through the +door must be discovered. That is the simplest way. For this I do +believe"--and he expressed his belief with a great solemnity and +conviction which sank very memorably into Miranda's mind--"I believe +that if we lay our hands upon that man we shall lay our hands also +upon the means to rescue Warriner from his servitude." + +"But how can I help? I do not know the man who shouted through the +door." The words were flung at Fournier in a passion of impotence. +"You say you need no money. I cannot scour Morocco. How can a woman +help?" + +M. Fournier hesitated. He took off his glasses. He found it easier to +speak the matter of his thoughts when he saw her face dimly, and could +not take note of its expressions. + +"A woman very often has friends," he hinted. + +He saw her face grow rosy and then pale. + +"Yes, but I have lost the glove," she cried impulsively, and as she +turned towards the perplexed M. Fournier, the blood rushed back into +her cheeks. "I mean," she stammered, and broke off suddenly into a +question which was at once an accusation and a challenge. + +"And men, have they no friends?" + +Fournier did not affect to misunderstand her. + +"Here and there, perhaps a man has one friend who will deliberately +risk much, even life, for him, but in those cases he has only one such +friend. Warriner has one, but alas! that one friend is myself. +Already, it is true, I have risked my life for him at the Scillies, +and I would gladly lose it for him now, if I could only lose it +without foreknowledge. But what can I do? A little fat Belgian +bourgeois, of middle age, who speaks no language correctly but his +own, and has only a few poor words of Arabic, a man of no strength, +and, Madame, a coward,--what could I do inland in Morocco?" He made no +parade of humility as he described himself; he used the simple, +straightforward tone of one who advances cogent arguments. Miranda was +moved by an impulse to hold out her hand to him. + +"I beg your pardon," she said. + +M. Fournier was encouraged to continue his plea. + +"But to possess sufficient friends so that one may choose the adequate +instrument,--ah, that is the privilege of women!" He added timidly, +"Of women who have youth and beauty," but in a voice so low that the +words hardly reached Miranda's ears, and their significance was not +understood by her at all. + +"I have not many friends," she returned frankly, "but I have one who +would be adequate. I cannot tell whether I can bring myself to--I mean +I cannot tell whether he could go; he has duties. It is asking much to +ask any man to set out into Morocco on such an errand. However, I must +think of it; I could at all events send for him and tell him of my +husband--" + +M. Fournier interposed quickly: "He knows nothing of Ralph Warriner?" + +"He believes my husband dead." + +"Then why should he not continue to believe your husband dead?" asked +Fournier, with a sly cunning. "It is Mr. Jeremy Bentham he goes out to +find,--a friend of yours--a relation perhaps--is it not so? We can +keep Ralph Warriner dead for a while longer." + +The little man's intention was becoming obvious. + +"Why?" asked Miranda, sharply. + +"It would be more prudent." + +"I don't understand." + +Her voice was cold and dangerous. + +"A man has one friend, a woman many," explained M. Fournier; "but +there are compensations for the man in that his friend will serve him +for friendship's sake. But a man will not serve a woman for +friendship's sake. Not if he serve her well." + +M. Fournier was prepared for an outburst of indignation; he was not +prepared for the expression which came over Miranda's face, and he +could not understand it. She looked at him fixedly and, as it seemed, +in consternation. "That is not true," she said; "it is not true. +Surely, surely it cannot be true." + +M. Fournier made no answer. She turned away from him and walked along +the flagged pathway, turned at the end and came slowly back. "A man +will only serve a woman if he cares for her?" + +M. Fournier bowed. + +"And men can be made to care?" + +M. Fournier smiled. + +"But it needs time?" + +M. Fournier shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. + +"And it needs tricks?" + +M. Fournier made a pun. + +"Nature, Madame, has put the tricks in your hand." + +Miranda nodded her head once or twice, and made a remark which M. +Fournier was at a loss to apply. "The old question," said she, "and +the old answer;" and at once an irrational anger flamed up within her, +anger with M. Fournier for posing the question again, anger with +herself for her perplexity, anger even against Charnock, because he +did not magically appear in the garden and answer the question and +dissolve her perplexity. But M. Fournier alone was in the garden with +her, and the full force of her anger broke upon him. "I am to throw +out my net," she cried, "and catch my friend! I am to trick him, to +lie to him, and to earn with the lie the use of his life and his +brains and his time and his manhood. How dare you come to me with such +a thought? A coward's thought indeed!" + +"The thought of a man who loves his friend," said M. Fournier, +stubbornly; and he continued without any sarcasm: "Your sentiments, +Madame Warriner, are most correct; they do you honour, but I love my +friend." + +To his surprise Miranda suddenly smiled at him, and then laughed. "I +was never treated with such absolute disregard in all my life," she +said. "No, don't apologise, I like you for it." + +"Then you will do as I propose?" he exclaimed. + +Miranda grew serious. "I cannot. If I ask my friend to go upon this +errand, he must know before he goes who it is I ask him to bring back. +I must think what can be done. You will go back to Tangier; perhaps +you may find Ralph there when you return. I will write to you at +Tangier." + +M. Fournier had plainly no opinion of her plan; but he saw that he +could not dissuade her. He took the hand which she held out to him, +and returned sorrowfully through the patio to the street. + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + IN WHICH MIRANDA ADOPTS A NEW LINE OF CONDUCT AND THE MAJOR + EXPRESSES SOME DISCONTENT + + +Miranda was left with two convictions, of which she was very certain. +Somehow, somewhither, help must be sent to Ralph; and if Charnock +carried the help, he must know why and for whom before he went. + +She stood in the patio until the outer door closed behind M. Fournier. +A local newspaper lying upon a wicker chair caught her eye, and +harassed and unresolved as she was, she turned eagerly for rest to its +commonplaces. She read an anecdote about an unknown politician, and a +summary of Don Carlos's prospects, with extreme care and +concentration; for she knew that her perplexities lay in wait for her +behind the screen of the news sheet, and she was very tired. + +She turned over the sheet, and in spite of herself, began to feel at a +third idea. She applied herself consequently to the first paragraph +which met her eye, and read it over with great speed, perhaps ten +times. But the words she read were not the printed words. They were +these:-- + +"Send me the glove, and when I come up to Ronda, it will be understood +without a word why I have come. There will be no need for me to speak +at all, and you will only have to tell me the particular thing that +wants doing." + +And the idea became distinct. She could choose her own time for +telling Charnock the particular thing which wanted doing. He would ask +no questions; he had indeed hit upon that device of the glove to spare +her; she could send the glove, and she could tell him after he had +come in answer, but at her own discretion, why she had sent it. +Therefore she had time--she had time. + +She turned to her paragraph again, read it with comprehension, and +from the paragraph her trouble sprang at her and caught her by the +heart. For what she read was the account of the opening of the branch +line to Algeciras. Charnock's work was done, then; he would be leaving +Algeciras. Even at that moment her first feeling was one of +approaching loneliness, so closely had the man crept into her +thoughts. She took a step towards her parlour, stopped, stood for a +moment irresolute, ran up the winding iron staircase to the landing +half-way up the patio, and fetched a new long white kid glove from her +dressing-room. She moulded it upon her hand, soiled it by a ten +minutes' wearing, ripped it across the palm, and sealed it up in an +envelope. + +Jane Holt came into the patio while Miranda was still writing the +address. + +"What's that?" she asked. + +"A sham, Jane, a sham," said Miranda, in a queer, unsteady voice; "a +trick, the first of them." + +Jane Holt shook her head. "You are very strange, Miranda," but +Miranda picked up the envelope, and putting on her hat hurried to the +post-office. As she crossed the bridge over the Tajo a man barred her +way. She tried to pass him; he moved again in front of her, and she +saw that the man was Wilbraham. + +"I wish to speak to you." + +"In ten minutes," said she, "in the Alameda. I have a letter to post." + +"The letter can wait," said he. + +"If it did, it would never be posted," said she, and she hurried past +him. + +The Major followed her with inquisitive eyes; he felt a certain +admiration for her buoyant walk, her tall slight figure, which a white +muslin dress with a touch of colour at the waist so well set off, and +for the pose of her head under the wide straw hat. But business +instincts prevailed over his admiration. He lit a cigarette. + +"What is the large sealed letter which must be posted at once, or it +will never be posted at all?" he asked himself. "Why must it be posted +at once?" + +He strolled to the Alameda unable to find an answer. In the Alameda, +at the bench before the railings, Miranda was waiting for him. She +rose at once to meet him. + +"Why have you come?" she asked. "It is not quarter-day. We made our +bargain. I have kept my part of it." + +"Yes," said he. "But it was not a good bargain for me. I underrated my +necessities. I overrated my taste for a quiet life." + +"And the Horace?" she asked scornfully. "One of the few things worth +doing, was it not?" + +Wilbraham flushed angrily. + +"So it is," he said. "But I find it difficult to settle down. I need, +in fact,--do we not all need them?--intervals of relaxation." He spoke +uneasily; he looked even more worn and tired than when he first came +to Ronda. Miranda understood that here indeed was the real tragedy of +the man's life. + +"All these years, fifteen years," she said, "you have dreamed of doing +sooner or later this one thing. You have played with the dream. You +have kept your self-respect by means of it. It has set you apart from +your companions. And now, when the opportunity comes, you find that +you were only after all on the level of your companions, lower, +perhaps a trifle lower, by this trifle of delusion. For you cannot do +the work." + +Wilbraham did not resent the speech, which was uttered without +reproach or accusation, but in the tone of one who notes a fact which +should have been foreseen. + +"A topping fellow Horace, of course," Wilbraham began. + +"And I trusted you to do it," she said suddenly, and looked at him for +a moment full in the face, not angrily, but with a queer sort of +interest in the mistake she had made. Then she turned from him and +walked away. + +The Major followed quickly, but before he could come up with her she +turned round on him. + +"Follow me for one other step," she said, "and I call that guardia +twenty yards away." + +She meant to do it, too; this was unmistakable. She resumed her walk, +and the Major thought it prudent to remain where he was. He remained +in fact for some time on that spot, whistling softly to himself. +Wilbraham's menaces had sunk to a complete insignificance in Miranda's +mind, since she had been confronted with the actual positive disaster +which had befallen Ralph Warriner. Wilbraham, however, was not in a +position to trace Miranda's sudden audacity to its true source. He +fell therefore, and not unnaturally, into the error of imagining that +she drew her courage to refuse his demands from some new and external +support. His thoughts went back to the letter which must be posted at +once. Had that letter anything to do with that support? Had it +anything to do with her refusal? + +Wilbraham asked himself these questions with considerable uneasiness, +for after all the seven hundred per annum was not so absolutely +assured. He came to the conclusion that it would be wise to transfer +his quarters from Tarifa to Ronda. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + THE HERO, LIKE ALL HEROES, FINDS HIMSELF IN A FOG + + +At eight o'clock the next morning Charnock was crushing the remainder +of his clothes into a portmanteau. A couple of corded trunks stood +ready for the porters, while the manager of the line sat in the window +overlooking Algeciras Bay, and gave him gratuitous advice as to +totally different and very superior methods of packing. + +The manager suddenly rose to his feet. + +"Here's the P. and O. coming into the bay," he said. "Man, but you +have very little time. I'm thinking you'll miss it." + +Charnock raised a flushed face from his portmanteau, and so wasted a +few seconds. He made no effort to catch them up. + +"I'm thinking, too, you would not be very sorry to miss it," continued +the manager, sagely. "Though what charms you can discover in +Algeciras, it's beyond my powers to comprehend." + +Charnock did not controvert or explain the manager's supposition. He +continued to pack, but perhaps a trifle more slowly than before. + +"You have got my address, Macdonald?" he said. "You won't lose it, +will you?" + +He shut up the portmanteau and knelt upon it. + +"You will forward everything that comes--everything without fail?" he +insisted. + +"In all human probability," returned Macdonald, "I will forward +nothing at all. For I am thinking you will lose the boat." + +There was a knock on the door; Charnock's servant brought in a letter. +The letter lay upon its face, and the sealed back of the envelope had +an official look. + +"Open it, will you, Macdonald?" said Charnock, as he fastened the +straps. "Well, what's it about?" + +"I cannot tell. It's written in a dialect I do not understand," said +the manager, gravely, and Charnock, turning about, saw that he dangled +and deliberated upon a long white kid glove. + +Charnock jumped up and snatched it away. + +"It's a female's," said the manager, sagely. + +"It's a woman's," returned Charnock, with indignation. + +"You are very young," observed Macdonald. "And I'll point out to you +that you have torn your letter." + +Charnock was turning the glove over, and showed the palm at that +moment. He smiled, but made no answer. He folded the glove, wrapped it +in its envelope, took it out again, and smoothed its creases. Then he +folded it once more, held it for a little balanced on his hand, and +finally replaced it in the envelope and hid the envelope in his +pocket. + +"Man, but you are _very_ young," remarked Macdonald, "and I'm thinking +that you'll lose--" + +"There's a train to Ronda pretty soon?" interrupted Charnock. + +"There is," replied Macdonald, drily, "and I'll be particular to mind +your address, and forward everything that comes. Eh, but you have paid +your passage on the P. and O." + +Charnock, in spite of that argument, took his seat in the train for +Ronda, and travelled up through the forest of cork trees whose foliage +split the sunshine, making here a shade, there an alley of light. The +foresters were at work stripping the trunks of their bark, and +Charnock was in a mood to make parables of the world, so long as they +fitted in with and exemplified his own particular purposes and plans. +He himself was a forester, and the rough bark he was stripping was +Miranda's distress, so it is to be supposed that the bare tree-trunk +was Miranda herself; and, to be sure, what simile could be more +elegant? + +Charnock's dominant feeling, indeed, was one of elation. The message +of his mirror was being fulfilled. He had the glove in his pocket to +assure him of that, and the feel of the glove, of its delicate kid +between his strong fingers, pleased him beyond measure. For it seemed +appropriate and expressive of her, and he hoped that the strength of +his fingers was expressive of himself. But beyond that, it was a call, +a challenge to his chivalry, which up till now, through all his years, +had never once been called upon and challenged; and therein lay the +true cause of his elation. + +The train swept out of the cork forest, and the great grass slopes +stretched upwards at the side of the track, dotted with white +villages, seamed with rocks. Charnock fell to marvelling at the apt +moment of the summons. Just when his work was done, when his mind and +his body were free, the glove had come to him. If it had come by a +later post on that same day, he would have been on his way to England. +But it had not; it had come confederate with the hour of its coming. + +The train passed into the gorge of tunnels, climbing towards Ronda. He +was not forgetful that he was summoned to help Miranda out of a danger +perhaps, certainly out of a great misfortune. But he had never had a +doubt that the misfortune from some quarter, and at some time, would +fall. She had allowed him on the balcony in St. James's Park to +understand that she herself expected it. He knew, too, that it must be +some quite unusual misfortune. For had she not herself said, with a +complete comprehension of what she said, "If I have troubles I must +fight them through myself"? He had been prepared then for the +troubles, and he was rejoiced that after all they were of a kind +wherein his service could be of use. + +At the head of the gorge he caught his first view of Ronda, balanced +aloft upon its dark pinnacle of rock. It was mid-day, and the sun +tinged with gold the white Spanish houses and the old brown mansions +of the Moors; and over all was a blue arch of sky, brilliant and +cloudless. At that distance and in that clear light, Ronda seemed one +piece of ivory, exquisitely carved and tinted, and then exquisitely +mounted on a black pedestal. Charnock was not troubled with any of +Lady Donnisthorpe's perplexities as to why Miranda persisted in making +that town her home. To him it seemed the only place where she could +live, since it alone could fitly enshrine her. + +The train wound up the incline at the back of the town and steamed +into the station. Charnock drove thence to the hotel in the square +near the bull-ring, lunched, and asked his way to Mrs. Warriner's +house. He stood for a while looking at the blank yellow wall which +gave on to the street, and the heavy door of walnut wood. + +For the first time he began to ponder what was the nature of the peril +in which Miranda stood. His speculations were of no particular value, +but the fact that he speculated at this spot, opposite the house, +opposite the door, was. For, quite unconsciously, his eyes took an +impression of the geometrical arrangement of the copper nails with +which it was encrusted, or rather sought to take such an impression. +For the geometrical figures were so intricate in their involutions +that the eyes were continually baffled and continually provoked. +Charnock was thus absently searching for the key to their +inter-twistings when he walked across the road and knocked. He was +conducted through the patio. He was shown into the small dark-panelled +parlour which overlooked the valley. The door was closed upon him; the +room was empty. A book lay open upon the table before the window. +Charnock stood in front of this table looking out of the window across +to the sierras; so that the book was just beneath his nose. He had but +to drop his eyes and he would have read the title, and known the +subject-matter, of the book, and perhaps taken note or some pencil +lines scored in the margin against a passage here and there, for the +book had been much in Miranda's hands these last few days. But he did +not, for he heard a light step cross the patio outside and pause on +the threshold of the door. + +Charnock turned expectantly away from the table. The door, however, +did not open, nor on the other hand were the footsteps heard to +retreat. A woman then was standing, quite silent and quite motionless, +on the other side of that shut door; and that woman, no doubt, was +Miranda. Charnock was puzzled; he, too, stood silent and motionless, +looking towards the door and wondering why she paused there and in +what attitude she stood. For the seconds passed, and there must have +been a lapse of quite two minutes between the moment when the +footsteps ceased and the moment when the door was flung open. + +For the door was flung open, noisily, violently, and with a great +bustle of petticoats an unknown woman danced into the room humming a +tune. She stopped with all the signs of amazement when she saw +Charnock. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "why didn't they tell me?" She cast +backwards over her shoulder that glance of the startled fawn which +befits a solitary maid in the presence of a devouring man. Then she +advanced timidly, lowered her eyes, and said: "So you have come to +Ronda, then?" + +This unknown woman had paused outside the door, yet she had swung into +the room as though in a great hurry, and had been much surprised to +see her visitor. Charnock was perplexed. Moreover, the unknown woman +wore the semblance of Miranda. She was dressed in a white frock very +elaborate with lace, he noticed; there was a shimmer of satin at her +throat and waist, and to him who had not seen her for these months +past, and who had thought of her as of one draped in black,--since +thus only he had seen her,--she gleamed against the dark panels of the +room, silvered and wonderful. + +"So you have come to Ronda?" said she. + +"Of course." + +She held out her hand with a gingerly manner of timidity, and pressed +his fingers when they touched hers, as though she could not help +herself, and then hastily drew her hand away, as if she was ashamed +and alarmed at her forwardness. Charnock could not but remember a +frank, honest hand-clasp, with which she had bidden him goodbye in +London. + +"Is this your first visit to Ronda?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +"Sure?" She looked at him with her eyebrows raised and an arch glance +of provocation. "Sure you have not come up once or twice just to see +in what corner of the world I lived?" + +"No; I have been busy." + +Miranda shrugged her shoulders. + +"I had no right to expect you would." She pushed out a foot in a +polished shoe beyond the hem of her dress, contemplated it with great +interest, and suddenly withdrew it with much circumstance of modesty. +Then with an involuntary gesture of repugnance which Charnock did not +understand, she went over to the window and stood looking out from it. +From that position too she spoke. + +"You promised that night, if you have not forgotten, at Lady +Donnisthorpe's, on the balcony, to tell me about yourself, about those +years you spent in Westminster." And Charnock broke in upon her speech +in a voice of relief. + +"I understand," said he. + +"What?" + +"You," he replied simply. + +"Oh, I hope not," she returned; "for when a woman becomes intelligible +to a man, he loses all--liking for her," and she spoke the word +"liking" with extreme shyness as though there were a bolder word with +which he might replace it if he chose. "Is not that the creed?" + +"A false creed," said he, and her eyes fell upon the open book. She +uttered a startled exclamation, threw a quick glance at Charnock, +closed the book and covered it with a newspaper. + +"Let us go into the garden," said she; "and you shall talk to me of +those years in which I am most interested." + +"That I can understand," said he, and she glanced at him sharply, +suspiciously, but there was no sarcasm in his accent. He had hit upon +an explanation of the change in her. She stood in peril, she needed +help, and very likely help of a kind which implied resource, which +involved danger. She knew nothing of him, nothing of his capacity. It +was no more than natural that he should require to know and that she +should sound his years for the knowledge, before she laid him under +the obligation of doing her a service. + +He sat down on the chair in which M. Fournier had sat only yesterday. + +"It will sound very unfamiliar to you," he said with a laugh. "My +father was vicar of a moorland parish on the hills above Brighouse in +Yorkshire. There I lived until I was twelve, until my father died. He +had nothing but the living, which was poor--the village schoolmaster, +what with capitation grants, was a good deal better off--so that when +he died, he died penniless. I was adopted by a maiden aunt who took me +to her home, a little villa in the south suburbs of London of which +the shutters had never been taken down from the front windows since +she had come to live there three years before." + +"Why?" asked Miranda, in surprise. + +"She was eccentric," explained Charnock, with a smile, and he resumed. +"Nor had the front door ever been opened. My aunt was afraid that +visitors might call, and, as she truly said, the house was not yet in +order. The furniture, partly unpacked, with wisps of straw about the +legs of the chairs, was piled up in the uncarpeted rooms. For there +was only a carpet down in one room, the room in which we lived, and +since the room was in the front and the shutters were up, we lived in +a perpetual twilight." + +"But did the servants do nothing?" exclaimed Miranda. + +"There were no servants," returned Charnock. "My aunt said that they +hampered her independence. Consequently of course we made our meals of +tinned meat and bottled stout, which we ate standing up by the kitchen +table in the garden if it was fine. But wet or fine the kitchen table +always stood in the garden." + +Here Miranda began to laugh and Charnock joined with her. + +"It was a quaint sort of life," said he, "but rather ghostly to a boy +of twelve." + +"But you went to school?" + +"No, my schooldays were over. I just lived in the twilight of that +house, and through the chinks of the shutters watched people passing +in the street, and lay awake at night listening to the creak of the +bare boards. The house was in a terrace, and since we went to bed as +soon as it grew dark to save the gas, I could hear through the wall +the sounds of people laughing and talking, sometimes too the voices of +boys of my own age playing while I lay in bed. I used to like the +noise at times; it was companionable and told me fairy stories of +blazing firesides. At times, however, I hated it beyond words, and +hated the boys who laughed and shouted while I lay in the dark amongst +the ghostly piles of furniture." + +Miranda was now quite serious, and Charnock, as he watched her, +recognised in the woman who was listening, the woman he had talked +with on the balcony over St. James's Park, and not the woman he had +talked with five minutes since. + +"Only to think of it," she exclaimed. "I was living then amongst the +Suffolk meadows, and the great whispering elms of the Park, and I +never knew." She spoke almost in a tone of self-reproach as she +clasped her hands together on her knees. "I never knew!" + +"Oh, but we had our dissipations," returned Charnock. "We dug potatoes +in the garden, and sometimes we paid a visit to Marshall and +Snelgrove." + +"Marshall and Snelgrove!" + +"Yes, those were gala days. My aunt would buy the best ready-made +bodice in the shop, which she carried away with her. From Marshall and +Snelgrove's we used to go to Verrey's restaurant, where we dined +amongst mirrors and much gilding, and about nine o'clock we would +travel back to our suburb, creep into the dark house by the back door, +and go to bed without a light. Imagine that if you can, Mrs. Warriner. +The clatter, the noise, the flowers, the lights, of the restaurant, +men and women in evening dress, and just about the time when they were +driving up to their theatres, these people, in whose company we had +dined, we were creeping into the dark, close-shuttered villa of the +bare boards, and groping our way through the passage without a light. +I used to imagine that every room had a man hiding behind the door, +and all night long I heard men in my room breathing stealthily. It was +after one such night that I ran away." + +"You ran away?" + +"Yes, and hid myself in London. I picked up a living one way and +another. It doesn't cost much to live when you are put to it. I sold +newspapers. I ran errands--" + +"You didn't carry a sandwich-board?" exclaimed Miranda, eagerly. "Say +you didn't do that!" + +"I didn't," replied Charnock, with some surprise at her eagerness. +"They wouldn't have given a nipper like me a sandwich-board," and +Miranda drew an unaccountable breath of relief. "Finally I became an +office boy, and I was allowed by my employer to sleep in an empty +house in one of the small streets at the back of Westminster Abbey. +There weren't any carpets either in that house, but I was independent, +you see, and I saved my lodging. I wasn't unhappy during those three +years. I understood that very well, when I heard the big clock strike +twelve again on Lady Donnisthorpe's balcony. It was the first time I +had heard it since I lived in the empty house, and heard it every +night, and the sound of it was very pleasant and friendly." + +"Then you left London," said Miranda. + +"After three years. I was a clerk then; I was seventeen, and I had +ambitions which clerking didn't satisfy. I always had a hankering +after machinery, and I used to teach myself drawing. The lessons, +however, did not turn out very successful, when I put them to the +test." + +"What did you do?" asked Miranda. + +"I went up North to Leeds. There's a firm of railway contractors and +manufacturers of locomotives. Sir John Martin is the head partner, and +I had seen him once or twice at my father's house, for he took and +takes a great interest in the Yorkshire clergy." + +"I see. You went to him and told him who you were," said Miranda, +who inclined towards Charnock more and more from the interest which +she took in a youth so entirely strange, and apart from her own +up-bringing, just as he on his part had been from the first attracted +to her by the secure traditional life of which she was the flower, of +which he traced associations in her simplicity, and up to this day, at +all events, her lack of affectations. + +"No," replied Charnock, "it would have been wiser if I had done that; +but I didn't. I changed my name, and applied for a vacancy as +draughtsman. I obtained it, and held the post for three weeks. Why +they suffered me for three weeks is still a mystery, for of course I +couldn't draw at all. At the end of three weeks I was discharged. I +asked to be taken on as anything at thirteen shillings a week. I saw +Sir John Martin himself. He said I couldn't live on thirteen +shillings; I said I could, and he asked me how." Charnock began to +laugh at his own story. "I told him how," he said. "I lived +practically for nothing." + +"How?" said Miranda. "Quick, tell me!" Charnock laughed again. "I had +been three weeks at the works, you see, where hands were continually +changing. I lived in a sort of mechanics' boarding-house, and I lived +practically for nothing, on condition that I kept the house full, +which I was able to do, for I got on very well with the men at the +works. Sir John laughed when I told him, and took me into the office. +So there I was a clerk again, which I didn't want to be; however, I +was not a clerk for long. One Sunday Sir John Martin came down to the +boarding-house and asked for me. It was dinner time, and he was shown +straight into the dining-room, where I was sitting, if you please, at +the head of the table, in my shirtsleeves, carving for all I was +worth. He leaned against the door and shook with laughter. 'You are +certain to get on,' he said; 'but I would like a few minutes with you +alone.' I put on my coat, and went out with him into the street. 'Is +your name Charnock?' he asked, and I answered that it was. 'I thought +I knew your face,' said he, 'and that's why I took you into my office, +though I couldn't put a name to you. So if you are proud enough to +think that I took you on your own merits, you are wrong. You might as +well have told me your real name, and saved yourself some time. Look +at that!' and he gave me a newspaper, and pointed out an +advertisement. A firm of solicitors in London was advertising for me, +and the firm, I happened to know, looked after my aunt's affairs. I +went to London that night. My aunt had died sixteen months before, and +had left me six hundred a year. The rest was easy. I took Sir John's +advice. 'Railways,' he said, 'railways; they are the white man's +tentacles;' and Sir John gave me my first employment as an engineer." + +Miranda was silent for a long while after Charnock had ended his +story. Charnock himself had nothing further to say. It was for her to +speak, not for him to question. She had sent the glove. She knew why +he had come. Miranda, however, took a turn along the flagged pathway, +and leaned over the breast-high wall and pointed out a vulture above +the valley, and talked in inattentive, undecided tones upon any +impersonal topic. It was natural, Charnock thought, that she should +wish to con over what he had told her. So he rose from his chair. + +"Shall I come back to-morrow?" he asked, and she rallied herself to +answer him. + +"Will you?" she exclaimed. "I should be so glad," and checking the +ardour of her words, she explained, "I mean of course if you have +nothing better to do," and she examined a flower with intense +absorption, and then looked at him pathetically over her shoulder, as +he moved away. So again he lost sight of the Miranda of the balcony, +and carried away his first impression, that he had met that afternoon +with a stranger. + +His fervour of the morning changed to a chilling perplexity. He +wondered at the change in her. Something else, too, seized upon his +thoughts, and exercised his fancies. Why had she stood so long outside +the door before she hurried in with her simulated surprise? How had +she looked as she paused there, silent and motionless? That question +in particular haunted him, for he thought that if only he could have +seen her through the closed door he would have found a clue which +would lead him to comprehend and to justify her. + +Absorbed by these thoughts he sat through dinner unobservant of his +few neighbours at the long table. He was therefore surprised when, as +he stood in the stone hall, lighting his cigar, a friendly hand was +clapped down upon his shoulder, and an affable voice remarked:-- + +"Aha, dear friend! Finished the little job at Algeciras, I saw. What +are you doing at Ronda?" + +"What are you?" asked Charnock, as he faced the irrepressible Major +Wilbraham. + +"Trying to make seven hundred per annum into a thousand. You see I +have no secrets. Now confidence for confidence, eh, dear friend?" and +his eyes drew cunningly together behind the glowing end of his cigar. + +"I am afraid that I must leave you to guess." + +"Guessing's not very sociable work." + +"Perhaps that's why I am given to it," said Charnock, and he walked +between the stone columns and up the broad staircase. + +The Major looked after him without the slightest resentment. + +"Slipped up that time, Ambrose, my lad," he said to himself, and +sauntered cheerfully out of the hotel. + +Five minutes later Charnock passed through the square at a quick walk. +Wilbraham was meditating a translation of the Carmen Saeculare, but +business habits prevailed with him. He thrust the worn little Horace +into his breast-pocket and followed Charnock at a safe distance. By +means of a skill acquired by much practice, he walked very swiftly and +yet retained the indifferent air of a loiterer. There was another +picture of the tracker and the tracked to be seen that evening, but in +Ronda instead of Tangier, and Charnock was unable to compare it with +its companion picture, since, in this case, he was the tracked. The +two men passed down the hill to the bridge. Charnock stopped for a +little and stood looking over the parapet to the water two hundred and +fifty feet below, which was just visible through the gathering +darkness like a ridge of snow on black soil. Wilbraham halted at the +end of the bridge. It seemed that Charnock was merely taking a stroll. +He had himself, however, nothing better to do at the moment. He waited +and repeated a stanza of his translation to the rhythm of the torrent, +and was not displeased. Charnock moved on across the bridge, across +the Plaza on the farther side of the bridge, up a street until he came +to an old Moorish house that showed a blank yellow wall to the street +and a heavy walnut door encrusted with copper nails. + +Then he stopped again and looked steadily at the house and for a long +while. Wilbraham began pensively to whistle a slow tune under his +breath. Charnock walked on, stopped again, looked back to the house, +as though he searched for a glimpse of the lights. But there was no +chink or cranny in that blank wall. The house faced the street, blind, +dark, and repellent. + +Charnock suddenly retraced his steps. Wilbraham had just time to mount +the doorsteps of a house as though he was about to knock, before +Charnock passed him. Charnock had not noticed him. Wilbraham descended +the steps and followed Charnock back into the Plaza. + +Charnock was looking for a road which he had seen that afternoon from +Miranda's garden, a road which wound in zigzags down the cliff. The +road descended from the Plaza, Charnock discovered it, walked down it; +behind him at a little distance walked Wilbraham. It was now falling +dark, but the night was still, so that Wilbraham was compelled to drop +yet farther and farther behind, lest the sound of his footsteps upon +the hard, dry ground should betray his pursuit. He fell so far behind, +in fact, that he ceased to hear Charnock's footsteps at all. He +accordingly hurried; he did more than hurry, he ran; he turned an +angle of the road and immediately a man seated upon the bank by the +road-side said:-- + +"_Buenas noches_." + +The man was Charnock. + +Wilbraham had the presence of mind not to stop. + +"_Felices suenos_," he returned in a gruff voice and continued to run. +He ran on until another angle of the road hid him. Then he climbed on +to the top of the bank, which was high, and with great caution doubled +back along the ridge until Charnock was just beneath him. + +Charnock was gazing upwards; Wilbraham followed his example, and saw +that right above his head, on the rim of the precipice, an open window +glowed upon the night, a square of warm yellow light empanelled in the +purple gloom. + +The ceiling of the room was visible, and just below the ceiling a +gleam as of polished panels. At that height above them the window +seemed very small; its brightness exaggerated the darkness which +surrounded it; and both men looked into it as into a tiny theatre of +marionettes and expected the performance of a miniature play. + +All that they saw, however, was a shadow-pantomime thrown upon the +ceiling, and that merely of a tantalising kind--the shadow of a +woman's head and hair, growing and diminishing as the unseen woman +moved away or to the candles. A second shadow, and this too the shadow +of a woman, joined the first. But no woman showed herself at the +window, and Charnock, tiring of the entertainment, returned to his +hotel. + +Wilbraham remained to count the houses between that lighted window and +the chasm of the Tajo. He counted six. Then he returned, but not +immediately to the hotel. On reaching the Plaza he walked, indeed, +precisely in the opposite direction, away from the Tajo, and he +counted the houses which he passed and stopped before the seventh. + +The seventh was noticeable for its great doors of walnut-wood and the +geometrical figures which were traced upon it with copper nails. + +The Major cocked his hat on one side, and stepped out for the hotel +most jauntily. "These little accidents," said he, "a brigantine +sighted off Ushant; a man going out for a walk! If only one has +patience! Patience, there's the secret. A little more, and how much--a +great poet!" And he entered the hotel. + +Charnock rose from a bench in the hall, "Pleasant night for a stroll," +said he. + +"Business with me, dear old boy," replied the Major. "I fancy that +after all I have made that seven hundred per annum into a thou. I am +not sure, but I think so. Good-night, sleep well, be good!" With a +flourish of his hand over the balustrade of the stairs, the Major +disappeared. + +Charnock sat down again on the bench and reflected. + +"Wilbraham's at Ronda. I find him at Ronda when I am sent for to +Ronda. Wilbraham said good-night to me on the road. Wilbraham was +following me; Wilbraham's clothes were dusty: it was Wilbraham who +kicked his toes into the grass on the top of the bank while I sat at +the bottom. Have I to meet Wilbraham? What has his seven hundred per +annum to do with Mrs. Warriner? Well, I shall learn to-morrow," he +concluded, and so went to bed. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + WHEREIN THE HERO'S PERPLEXITIES INCREASE + + +Charnock, however, learned nothing the next morning, except perhaps a +lesson in patience. For the greater part of his visit was occupied in +extracting a thorn from one of Mrs. Warriner's fingers. They chanced +to be alone in the garden when the accident occurred, and Miranda +naturally came to him for assistance. She said no word about the +glove, nor did he; it was part of the compact that he should be +silent. He came the next day, and it seemed that there was something +amiss with Miranda's hairpins, for the coils of her hair were +continually threatening to tumble about her shoulders; at least, so +she said, complaining of the weight of her hair. But again there was +no mention of the glove. That afternoon Charnock was introduced to +Miss Holt, whom Miranda kept continually at her side, until Charnock +took his leave, when she accompanied him across the patio. + +"We never seem to get an opportunity of talking to each other," said +she, with the utmost innocence. "Will you ride with me to-morrow? Say +at two. We might ride as far as Ronda La Viega." + +Charnock, who within the last half-hour had begun to consider +whether it would not be wise for him to return to Algeciras, eagerly +accepted the invitation. To-morrow everything would be explained. They +would ride out together, alone, and she would tell him of the dragon +he was required to slay, and no doubt explain why, for these last two +days, she had been marketing her charms. That certainly needed +explanation--for even at this moment in the patio, she was engaged in +kissing a kitten with too elaborate a preparation of her lips to avoid +a suspicion that the pantomime was intended for a spectator. + +Charnock was punctual to the minute of his appointment, and in +Miranda's company rode through the town. As they passed the hotel, +Major Wilbraham came out of the doorway. He took off his hat. Charnock +nodded in reply and turned towards Miranda, remembering his suspicions +as to whether Wilbraham was concerned in the mysterious peril which he +was to combat. To his surprise Miranda instantly smiled at the Major +with extreme friendliness, and markedly returned his bow. + +"Clever, clever!" muttered the Major, as he bit his moustache and +commended her man[oe]uvre. "A little overdone, perhaps; the bow a +trifle too marked; still, it's clever! Ambrose, you will have that +thousand." + +Charnock was perplexed. "How long have you known Wilbraham?" he asked. + +Miranda stammered, bent her head, and smiled as it were in spite of +herself. + +"A long while," she answered, and then she sighed. "A long while," she +repeated softly. Charnock was exasperated to a pitch beyond his +control. + +"If you want to make me believe that you are in love with him," he +returned sharply, almost roughly, "you will fail, Mrs. Warriner. I +should find it hard to believe that he is even one of your friends." + +The words were hardly out of his lips before he regretted them. They +insulted her. She was hardly the woman to sit still under an insult; +but her manner again surprised him. He was almost prepared to be sent +curtly to the right about, whereas she made no answer whatever. She +coloured hotly, and rode forward ahead of him until they were well out +of the town and descending the hill into the bottom of the valley. +Then she fell back again by his side, and said: "Why is your face +always so--illegible?" + +"Is it?" he asked. + +"It's a lid--a shut lid," she said. "One never knows what you think, +how you are disposed." She spoke with some irritation perhaps, but +sincerely, and without any effort at provocation. + +"I was not aware," returned Charnock. "You must set it down to habit, +Mrs. Warriner. I was brought up in a hard school, and learned, no +doubt, intuitively the wisdom of reticence." + +"Is it always wisdom?" she asked doubtfully, and it seemed a strange +question to come from her whose business it was to speak, just as it +was his to listen. But very likely her doubt was in this instance +preferable to his wisdom. Some word of surprise at the change in her, +perhaps one simple gesture of impatience, would have broken down the +barrier between them. But he had taken the buffets of her provocations +and her advances with, as she truly said, an illegible face. + +"Is it always wisdom?" she asked, and she added: "You were not so +reticent when I first met you;" and just that inconsistency between +his bearing at Lady Donnisthorpe's ball, and his inexpressive +composure of these few last days, might have revealed to her at this +moment what he thought, and how he was disposed, had she brought a +cooler mind to consider it. For the man was not chary of expression +when the world went well with him; it was only in the presence of +disappointments, rebuffs, and aversions that his face became a lid. + +They left their horses at a farm-house, and climbed up the rough, +steep slope to the windy ridge on which the old Roman town was built. +They sat for a while upon the stones of the old wall, looking across +the great level plain of olive trees, and poplars, and white villages +gleaming in the sunlight. Here was a fitting moment for the story to +be told, Charnock thought, and expected its telling. But he only saw +that Miranda scrutinised his looks, and he only heard her gabbling of +this triviality and that with a feverish vivacity. And no doubt his +face betrayed less than ever what he thought and felt. + +"Shall I see you to-morrow?" she asked as they parted that afternoon +outside her door. + +"I will come round in the morning after lunch," he replied, and she +uttered a quick little sigh of pleasure, which made Charnock turn his +horse with a sharp, angry tug at the rein, and ride quickly away +across the bridge. + +That first impulse to leave Ronda had gone from him. He was engaged, +through his own wish and action, to serve Mrs. Warriner, and he was +resolved to keep the engagement to the letter. But he was beginning to +realise that he should be serving a woman whom in the bottom of his +heart he despised. The message of his mirror became a fable; he +recalled what Miranda herself had suggested, that the look of distress +which he had seen upon the face was due to his chance visit to +_Macbeth_; and certain words which a woman had spoken at Lady +Donnisthorpe's dance as she sat by the window recurred to him. +"There's a coquette" was one phrase which on this particular evening +recurred and recurred to his thoughts. + +However, he returned to the house upon the rim of the precipice the +next morning, and being led by a servant through the patio into the +garden, came upon Miranda unawares. She was busy amongst her flowers, +cutting the choicest and arranging them in a basket, and she did not +notice Charnock's appearance. Charnock was well content with her +inattention. For in the quiet grace of her movements, as she walked +amongst her flowers, he caught a glimpse of the Miranda whom he knew, +the Miranda of the balcony. The October sunlight was golden about +them, a light wind tempered its heat, and on the wind were borne +upwards to his ears the distant cries of peasants in the plain below. +He had a view now and then of her face, as she rose and stooped, and +he remarked a gentleness and a simplicity in its expression which had +been foreign to it since he had come to Ronda. + +But the expression changed when she saw Charnock standing in the +garden. + +"Who do you think I am cutting these flowers for?" she asked with an +intolerable playfulness. "You will never guess." + +Charnock stepped over to her side. + +"Mrs. Warriner," said he, "will you give me one?" + +She looked at him with a whimsical hesitation. + +"They are intended for Gibraltar," she said, as she caressed the bunch +which she held--but she spoke with a great repugnance, and the +playfulness had gone from her voice before she had ended the sentence. + +"For Gibraltar?" he exclaimed, remembering the gentle look upon her +face as she had culled them. "For whom in Gibraltar? For whom?" He +confronted her squarely; his voice commanded her to answer. + +She drew back from him; the colour went from her cheeks; her fingers +were interclasped convulsively; it seemed as though the words she +tried to speak were choking her. But her emotion lasted for no more +than a moment, though for that moment Charnock could not doubt that it +was real. He took a step forwards, and she was again mistress of +herself. + +"Yes, I will give you one," she said hurriedly. "I will even fix it in +your button-hole. Will you be grateful if I do? Will you be very +grateful?" Charnock neither answered nor moved. He stood in front of +her with a face singularly stolid. But Miranda's hands touched his +breast, and at the shock of her fingers he drew in his breath, and his +whole body vibrated. + +And how it came about neither of them knew, but in an instant the +flowers were on the ground between them, and her hands gripped his +shoulders as they stood face to face and tightened upon them in a +passionate appeal. He read the same passionate appeal in her eyes, +which now frankly looked up to his. + +"You don't know," she cried incoherently, "you don't know." + +"But I wish to know," he exclaimed, "tell me;" and his arms went about +her waist. She uttered a cry and violently tore and plucked his arms +from her. + +"No," she cried, "no, not now," and she heard the latch of the door +click. Charnock heard it too. + +"When?" said he, as he stood away, and the door opened and Major +Wilbraham with his hat upon his heart bowed, with great elegance, upon +the threshold. Miranda started. She looked from Charnock to Wilbraham, +from Wilbraham to Charnock. + +"So he is one of your friends," said Charnock. + +"Have you the right to choose my friends?" she asked, and she greeted +Wilbraham warmly. + +The Major seemed very much at his ease. It was the first occasion on +which he had had the effrontery to push his way into the house, but +from his manner one would have judged him a family friend. He waved a +hand to Charnock. + +"So you are there, dear old darling boy!" he cried. His endearments +increased with every meeting. "I saw you come in and thought I might +as well call at the same time, eh, Mrs. Warriner? So pleasant, I meet +Charnock everywhere. Destiny will have us friends. That dear Destiny!" +And as Charnock with an ill-concealed air of distaste turned from them +towards the valley, Wilbraham whispered to Miranda, "You need have no +fear. I shall not say a word--unless you force me to." + +Miranda drew back. She stood for a moment with her hands clenched, and +her eyelids closed, her face utterly weary and ashamed. Then with a +gesture of revolt she turned towards Charnock. + +Instantly the Major stepped in front of her. + +"May I beg one?" said he, pointing to the basket of flowers. It was +all very well for him to threaten Miranda that he would tell Charnock +of her husband; but it would not suit his purpose at all for her +actually to tell him on an impulse of revolt against the deception and +the hold he himself had upon her. So he fixed his eyes steadily upon +her face. + +"May I beg one?" and he bent towards the stool on which the basket was +set. + +"Not of those!" she cried, "not of those!" and she snatched up the +basket and held it close. + +"But you shall have one," she continued with a forced laugh, as over +Wilbraham's shoulder she saw Charnock watching them, and she snapped +off some flowers from their stems with her fingers until she held a +bunch. "There! Make your choice, Major. A flower sets off a man." + +"Just as a wife sets off a husband, eh, Mrs. Warriner?" returned +the Major, with a sly gallantry, as he fixed the flower in his +button-hole. "Eh, Charnock, did you hear?" + +He joined Charnock as he spoke, and Miss Holt coming from the house, +the talk became general. But Charnock noticed that at one moment +Miranda moved carelessly away from the group, and leaning carelessly +over the wall, carelessly dropped down the face of the cliff the whole +bunch of flowers from which Wilbraham had chosen one. As she lifted +her eyes, however, she saw Charnock watching her, and at once and for +the rest of the time during which her guests remained, she made her +court to Wilbraham with a feverish assiduity. She laughed immoderately +at his jokes, she was extremely confused by his compliments, she +displayed the completest deference to his opinions; so that even the +unobservant Miss Holt was surprised. + +Charnock was the first to break up the gathering. + +"I must be going," he said curtly to Miranda. + +"It would almost seem that you were displeased with us," she answered +defiantly. + +"I beg your pardon," said he, coldly. "I do not claim the privilege to +be displeased." + +"Jolly afternoon," murmured the Major, in a cheery desire to make the +peace, "good company, dear old friends"--and he saw that Miranda was +unmistakably bowing good-bye to himself. He took the hint at once. The +Major was in a very good humour that afternoon, and as the party +walked back to the house, he fell behind to Miranda, who had already +fallen behind. + +"Clever, clever," he remarked encouragingly, "to play me off against +the real man. A little overdone perhaps, but clever. I trust I did my +part. We'll make it a thousand per annum." + +Miranda quickened her pace and took her leave of her visitors at the +door of the garden. Wilbraham was in no particular hurry to settle his +business; he was quite satisfied for that afternoon, and he entered +genially into conversation with Miss Holt upon the subject of her +grievances. + +Thus Miss Holt and Wilbraham crossed the patio and entered the passage +to the outer door. Charnock followed a few steps behind them; and just +after Miss Holt with her companion had entered the passage, while he +yet stood in the patio, he heard a door slam behind him. + +He turned, and walked round the tiny group of tamarisks in the centre +of the patio. It was not the door into the garden which had slammed, +because that now stood wide open, whereas he remembered he had closed +it behind him; and the only other door in that side of the house was +the door of Miranda's parlour. He had left Miranda in the garden; it +was plainly she who had slammed the door, and had slammed it upon +herself. + +Charnock was alone in the empty patio. It was very quiet; the sunshine +was a steady golden glow upon the tiled floor, upon the tiled walls; +above in the square of blue there was no scarf of cloud. He stood in +the quiet empty patio, and the touch of her fingers tingled again upon +his breast. Again he saw her drop the flowers she had culled for +Wilbraham down the cliff. Amongst his doubts and perplexities those +two recollections shone. They were accurate, indisputable. Her +feverish vivacity, her coquetries, her friendliness to Wilbraham, her +silence towards himself, the basket of flowers for Gibraltar--these +things were puzzles. But twice that afternoon she had been true to +herself, and each time she had betrayed the reality of her trouble and +the reality of her need. + +It was very still in the patio. A bee droned amongst the tamarisks. It +seemed to Charnock that, after much sojourning in outlandish corners +of the earth, he who had foreseen his life as a struggle with the +brutality of inanimate things was, after all, here in the still +noonday, within these four walls, to undergo the crisis of his +destiny. He gently turned the handle of the door and entered the room. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + MIRANDA PROFESSES REGRET FOR A PRACTICAL JOKE + + +He closed the door behind him. Miranda had neither seen nor heard him +enter. She sat opposite to the door, on the other side of the round +oak table, her arms stretched out upon the table, her face buried in +her arms. She was not weeping, and Charnock might have believed from +the abandonment of her attitude that she lay in a swoon, but for one +movement that she made. Her outstretched hands were clasped together +and her fingers perpetually worked, twisting and intertwisting. There +was no sound whatever in the room beyond the ticking of a clock, and +Charnock leaned against the door and found the silence horrible. He +would have preferred it to have been broken if only by the sound of +her tears. All his doubts, all his accusations, were swept clean out +of his brain by the sight of her distress, and, tortured himself, he +stood witness of her torture. He advanced to the table, and leaning +over it took the woman's clasped hands into his. + +"Miranda!" he whispered, and again, "Miranda!" and there was just the +same tenderness in his voice, as when he had first pronounced the name +in the balcony over St. James's Park. + +Miranda did not lift her head, but her hands answered the clasp of +his. She did not in truth know at that moment who was speaking to her. +She was only sensible of the sympathy of his touch and the great +comfort of his voice. + +Charnock bent lower towards her. + +"I love you," he said, "you--Miranda." + +Then she raised her face and stared at him with uncomprehending eyes. + +"I love you," he repeated. + +She looked down towards her hands which he still held and suddenly she +shivered. + +"I love you," he said a third time. + +And she understood. She wrenched her hands away, she stretched out her +arms, she thrust him away from her, in her violence she struck him. + +"No, it's not true," she cried, "it's not true!" and so fell to +pleading volubly. "Say that it's not true, now, at once. Say there's +no truth in your words. Say that pity prompted them and only pity," +and her voice rose again in a great horror. Horror glittered too in +her eyes. "Say that you spoke more than you meant to speak!" + +"I can say that," he answered. "When I came into this room I had no +thought of speaking--as I did. But I saw you--I watched your hands," +and he caught his breath, "and they plucked the truth out from me. For +what I said is true." + +"No!" she cried. + +"Very true," he repeated quietly. + +Her protesting arms fell limply to her sides. She nodded her head, +submitted to his words, acknowledged their justice. + +"Yes," she said, "yes. I knew this afternoon. You told me in the +garden, and though I would not know, still I could not but know." + +Then she rose from her chair and walked to the window. Charnock did +not speak. He hung upon her answer, and yet dreaded to hear it, so +that when her lips moved, he would have had them still, and when they +ceased to move, he was conscious of a great relief. After a long while +she spoke, very slowly and without turning to face him, words which he +did not understand. + +"Love," she said, in a wondering murmur, "is it so easily got? And by +such poor means? Surely, then it's a slight thing itself, of no +account, surely not durable," and at once her calmness forsook her; +she was caught up in a whirl of passion. She raised a quivering face, +and cried aloud in despair: "It's the friend I wanted; I want no +lover!" + +"But you have both," returned Charnock. With a hand upon the table he +leaned over it towards her. "You have both." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Miranda. With extraordinary swiftness she swung round +and copied his movement. She leaned her hand upon the table, and bent +forward to him. "But to win the one I have had to create the other. To +possess the friend I have had to make the lover," and she suddenly +threw herself back and stood erect. "Well, then," and she spoke with a +thrill in her voice, as though she had this instant become aware of a +new and a true conviction, "I must use neither--I will use neither--I +want neither." + +She faced Charnock resolute, and in her own fancy inflexible to any +appeal. Only he made no appeal; he drew his hand across his forehead +and looked at her with an expression of simple worry and bewilderment. + +"My ways have lain amongst men, and men, and men," he said +regretfully. "I wish I understood more about women." + +The simplicity of his manner and words touched her as no protestations +would have done, and broke down her self-control. + +"My dear, my dear!" she cried, with a laugh which had more of tears in +it than amusement, "I am not so sure that we understand so very much +about ourselves;" and she dropped again into the chair and covered her +face with her hands. But she heard Charnock move round the table +towards her, and she dared not risk the touch of his hand, or so much +as the brushing of his coat against her dress. She drew her hands from +her face, held out her arms straight in front of her like bars, and +shrank back in the chair behind the protection of those bars. + +"I do not want you," she said deliberately, with a quiet harshness. +"That, at all events, I understand and know. Go! Go away! I do not +want you!" and the words, spoken this time without violence or haste, +struck Charnock like a blow. + +He stood dazed. He shook his head, as though it sang from the blow. +Miranda drew in a breath. "Go!" she repeated. + +"You do not want me?" he asked, and somehow, whether it was owing to +his tone or his look, Miranda understood from the few words of his +question how much he had built upon the belief that she needed him; +and consequently the reply she made now cost her more than all the +rest to make. "I do not," she managed to say firmly, and dared not +hazard another syllable. + +Charnock felt in his breast-pocket, took out an envelope, and from the +envelope a glove. "Yet this was sent to me." He laid the glove upon +the table. "It was sent by you." Miranda took it up. "It contradicts +your words." + +Miranda turned the glove over, and stretched it out upon her knees. +"Does it?" she asked, with a slow smile, "does it contradict my +words?" + +"You sent it to me?" + +"No doubt." + +"You summoned me by sending it." + +"Surely." + +"For some purpose, then?" + +"Ah, but for what purpose?" said she, leaning forwards in her chair. +The cold smile was still upon her face, and seemed to Charnock +unfriendly as even her violence had not been. It had some cruelty too, +and perhaps, too, some cunning. + +"For what purpose? You should know. It is for you to say," he answered +in a dull, tired voice. He had built more upon this unneeded service +than he himself had been aware. + +"I will tell you," continued Miranda. "You have talked to my companion +Miss Holt?" + +"Yes." + +"She has no very strong faith in men. Perhaps you noticed as much." + +"No." + +"I did not agree with her. I had the glove. It would be--amusing to +know whether she was right or whether I was. I sent it to you." + +"Just to prove whether I should keep my word or not?" + +"Yes," said Miranda. + +"Just for your amusement, in a word?" + +"Amusement was the word I chose." + +"I see, I see." His voice was lifeless, his face dull and stony. +Miranda moved uneasily as she watched him; but he did not notice her +movement or regard her with any suspicion. His thoughts and feelings +were muffled. He seemed to be standing somewhere a long way outside +himself and contemplating the two people here in the room with a deal +of curiosity, and with perhaps a little pity; of which pity the woman +had her share with the man. "I see," he continued. "It was all a +sham?" + +Miranda glanced at him, and from him to the glove. "Even the glove was +a sham," she said quickly. "Look at it." + +He bent down and lifted it from her knees. Then he drew up a chair to +the table, sat down, and examined the glove. Miranda hitched her chair +closer to the table, too, and propping her elbows there, supported her +chin upon her hands. + +"You see that the glove is fresh," she said. + +"It has been worn," answered Charnock. "The fingers have been shaped +by wearing." + +"It was worn by me for ten minutes in this room the day I posted it to +you." + +"But the tear?" he asked with a momentary quickening of speech. + +"I tore it." + +"I see." He laid the glove upon the table. "And the other glove--the +one you wore that night--the one I tore upon the balcony over St. +James's Park? It was you I met that night in London? Or wasn't it?" + +The question was put without any sarcasm, but with the same dull +curiosity which had marked his other questions, and on her side she +answered it simply as she had answered the others. "Yes, it was I whom +you met, and the glove you speak of was thrown away." + +It seemed that he had come to the end of his questions, for he sat for +a little, drumming with his fingers on the table. Once he looked up +and towards the window, as though his very eyes needed the relief of +the wide expanse of valley. + +"Now will you go? Please," said Miranda, gently, and the next moment +regretted that she had spoken. + +"Oh, yes, I will go," he answered. "I will go back to Algeciras, and +from Algeciras to England." He was not looking at her, and so noticed +nothing of the spasm of pain which for a second convulsed her face at +his literal acceptation of her prayer. "But before I go, tell me;" and +the questions began again. + +"You say you need no one?" + +"No one." + +"Then why did you cry out a minute ago, 'It's the friend I want, +not the lover'? You were not amusing yourself then. Why, too, did +you--this afternoon in the garden, perhaps you remember--when the +flowers fell on to the ground between us? Neither were you amusing +yourself then." + +Miranda drew the glove away from where it lay in front of him; +absently she began to slip it over her hand, and then becoming aware +of what she did, and of certain associations with that action at this +moment, she hurriedly stripped it off. + +"Perhaps I have no right to press you," he said; "but I should like to +know." + +Miranda spread the glove out on the table, and carefully divided and +spread out the fingers. "I will tell you," she said at length, with +something of a spirt in the quickness of her speech. "I am still +capable of remorse, though very likely you can hardly believe that. Do +you remember," she began to speak with greater ease, "when we rode out +to Ronda La Viega, I asked you why you never expressed what you felt? +I was then beginning to be afraid that you would take my--my trick too +much to heart--that you would really think I needed you. My fear +became certain this afternoon, when I--I was putting the flower in +your coat. I was sorry then, as you saw when you came into the room. I +was yet more sorry when you spoke to me as you did, for I thought that +if you hadn't cared, if you had never intended to be more than my +friend, the trick would not have mattered so much. And that was just +what I meant, when I said it was the friend I wanted, not the lover." + +Charnock listened to the explanation, accepted it and put it away in +his mind. + +"I see," he remarked, and her bosom rose and fell quickly. "All this +time you have been just playing with me as you played with Wilbraham +this afternoon." + +"Just in the same way," she returned without flinching. + +"Ah, but you dropped his flower down the cliff," he exclaimed +suddenly. + +"You forget that yours had already fallen on to the ground." + +"Yes, that's true," and the suspicion died out of his face. "And that +basket of flowers?" he asked. + +This time, and for the first time since the questions had begun, +Miranda did flinch. She had a great difficulty in answering, "It has +already been sent off." + +"To Gibraltar?" Miranda's difficulty increased. "To whom at Gibraltar? +A friend, a man?" + +Miranda's face grew very white; she tried to speak and failed; her +throat, her lips, refused the answer. "At all events," she managed to +whisper hoarsely, "not to a woman," and thereupon she laughed most +mirthlessly, till the strange, harsh, strangled noise of it penetrated +as something unfamiliar to Charnock's dazed mind. + +"I beg your pardon," he said; "I was forgetful. I had no right to ask +you," and he rose from his chair. She rose too. "I am glad," he +continued with a formal politeness, "that you do not after all stand +in need of anyone's help." + +"Oh, no," she replied carelessly, "no one's;" and almost before she +was aware, he was holding her wrists, one in each of his hands, and +with his eyes he was searching her face, silently interrogating her +for the truth. Once before, upon the balcony, he had bidden her in +just this way answer him, and now, as then, she found herself under a +growing compulsion to obey. + +"You hurt me," she had the wit to say, and instantly Charnock released +her wrists. + +"I beg your pardon," said he, and he walked to the door. At the door +he turned. "Tell me," he said abruptly, "you dropped your glove--not +that one on the table, but the other--just as you stepped out on to +the balcony?" + +"Yes," she answered, and wondered what was coming. + +"Was that an accident?" + +Miranda stepped back and lowered her head. + +"You remember everything," she murmured. + +"Was it an accident?" + +"You are unsparing." + +"Was it an accident?" + +"No." + +"It was a trick, a sham like all the rest?" + +"Just like all the rest," said Miranda, wearily. + +"I see," said Charnock. "Good-bye." + +He went out of the room and closed the door behind him. + +It was very quiet and still in the patio. In the square of blue sky +there was no cloud; the sunshine poured into the court, only in one +corner there was a shadow climbing the wall, where there had been no +shadow when he entered the room. He vaguely wondered what the time +was, and then someone laughed. Someone above him. He looked up. Jane +Holt was leaning over the railing of the balcony. + +He made some sort of remark; and he gathered from her reply that he +had been asking why she laughed. + +"Why did I laugh?" she said. "Do you believe in affinities?" + +"No," he rejoined. "Why?" + +She descended the stairs as she answered him. + +"I saw you standing in the doorway there with your hand on your +throat, breathing hard and quick, and altogether a very tragical +picture." + +Charnock was not aware whether the details were true or not. "Well?" +he asked. + +"Well," she replied. "Do you remember the afternoon you came here? I +was in that lounge chair. You were shown into the parlour. You did not +notice me. Neither did Miranda when she followed you. But she stopped +on the threshold." + +"Yes, I remarked it. She stopped for some while. Well?" + +"Well, she stood just as you were standing a minute ago, in that +precise attitude, with her hand to her throat, breathing hard and +quick, and with a face not less tragical." + +Charnock's face now at all events ceased to look tragical. Jane Holt +saw it brighten extraordinarily. Miranda, had she been there, would +not at this moment have complained of its lack of expression. + +"That's true?" he asked eagerly. "What you tell me is true? She stood +here, and in that attitude?" + +"Yes." + +"That's the one point unexplained. I forgot to ask. She did not refer +to it. She stood here breathing hard and quick, you say, before she +entered the room--with all that appearance of surprise--she stood +here! Mere remorse does not account for that, does not account for her +manner. On her own showing it cannot account, since the remorse was +only felt this afternoon. There _is_ something more." He was talking +enigmas to Miss Holt, who went into the parlour and left him in the +patio to talk to himself if he would. She was not greatly interested +in his relationship towards Miranda. However, Charnock was not the +only person to talk enigmas to her that afternoon. She found Miranda +standing just as Charnock had left her. Miranda remained standing, +with any absent answer to Jane Holt's remarks, until the big +outer-doors clanged to, and made the house tremble. + +Then she started violently. The sound of those doors shook her as no +word or look of Charnock's had done. Her ears magnified it. It seemed +to her that the doors swung to from the east and from the west, clean +across the world, shutting Charnock upon the one side, and herself +upon the other. It seemed to her too that as they clanged together, +her heart was caught and broken between them. + +"You were wrong, Jane," she said. "There are men who would be friends +if we would only let them. Possibly we always find it out too late; I +only found it out this afternoon." The clock struck the hour as she +was speaking. "Four o'clock; the train for Algeciras leaves at +six-fifteen," she said. + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + IN WHICH THE MAJOR LOSES HIS TEMPER AND RECOVERS IT + + +All that evening Miranda's imagination followed the 6.15 train from +Ronda to Algeciras. She looked at the clock at half-past ten. The +ferry would be crossing from Algeciras to Gibraltar, and no doubt +Charnock was crossing upon it. She felt a loneliness of which she had +never had experience. And when she woke up in the morning from a +troubled sleep, it was only to picture some stately mail steamer +marching out from Algeciras Bay. She was conscious to the full of the +irony of the situation. If she had only met this man years ago, seven +years ago--that regret was a continual cry at her heart, and not the +least part of her loneliness was made up from her clear remembrance of +the picture of herself which she had given him to carry away. + +She ordered her horse to be brought round early that morning, and rode +out past the hotel a few minutes before nine. Major Wilbraham saw her +pass. He was down betimes as a rule when he stayed in a hotel, since +it was his habit, as often as possible, to look over the letters which +came for the different visitors. The mere postmark he had known upon +occasion to give him quite valuable hints. There was only, however, a +telegram for Charnock, which he genially offered to deliver himself +and did deliver, running into Charnock's bedroom for that purpose. +Charnock thanked him and read the telegram. It seemed to raise his +spirits. + +"Good news, old friend?" asked the Major. + +"Well--interesting news," replied Charnock, as he lathered his face. + +"Well, you shall give me it another time," said the Major, as he saw +Charnock put the telegram in his pocket. "So long!" + +The Major went downstairs and kept an eye upon the road. At ten +o'clock he noticed Miranda returning slowly. He put on his hat and +followed her. When he reached the house the horse was still at the +door, but Miranda had gone in. He observed that Charnock was +hesitating upon the other side of the road. Charnock was in fact +debating his plan of action; the Major's was already prepared. The +door stood open. Wilbraham put ceremony upon one side, the more +readily since ceremony would very likely have barred the door in his +face. He walked straight into the patio where Miranda stood before a +little wicker table drawing off her gloves. + +"Had a pleasant ride?" said the Major. "Nice horse; I am partial to +roans myself--" + +"What do you want?" asked Miranda. + +"To so uncompromising a question, I must needs give an uncompromising +reply. I want one thousand jimmies per annum," and the Major bowed +gracefully. + +"No," said Miranda. + +"But excuse me, yes, very much yes. You see, there is my excellent +young friend, the locomotive-man." + +"Can't you keep his name out of the conversation?" she suggested, but +with a dangerous quietude of voice. + +"Indeed no," replied the Major, who was entirely at his ease. He +looked sympathetically at her face. "You look pale; you have not slept +well; you are tired, and so you do not follow me. Charnock is my God +of the machine, a blind unconscious God--shall we say a Cupid, but a +Cupid in the machine? Let me explain! May I be seated? No? So sorry! +On the first night of Charnock's stay at Ronda, I had the honour to +follow him while he took a stroll." + +"You followed him unseen, of course?" said Miranda, contemptuously, as +she tossed her gloves on to the wicker table. + +"You take me, you take me perfectly," returned the Major. "I followed +him unseen, a habit of mine, and at times a very profitable habit. +Charnock walked--whither? Can you guess? Can't you tell?" He hummed +with unabashed impertinence. "He walked down a certain road which +winds down the precipice under your windows. Ah!"--he uttered the +exclamation in a playful raillery, for Miranda's hand had gone to her +heart; "he walked down that road until he came to an angle from which +he could see your lighted window." + +"Show me," said Miranda, suddenly. She walked round the patio, threw +open the door of her parlour, and crossed to the window. The window +was open, and the Major looked out. The window was in the outer wall +of the wing, and was built on the very rim of the precipice. Wilbraham +looked straight down on to the road. + +"That was the angle, Mrs. Warriner," said he, pointing with his +finger. "By that heap of stones he sat him down." Mrs. Warriner leaned +out of the window with something of a smile parting her lips. "At the +bottom of the bank he sat and aspired. Little Ambrose reclined on the +top." + +Miranda turned from the window abruptly. "Let us go back." She +returned to the patio and took her former position by the wicker +table. Wilbraham, upon the other side of it, faced her. + +"We could only see the ceiling of the room," he continued, "and the +shadow of your head. But so little contents an amorous engineer. He +sighed, and what a sigh, and yet how typical! So hoarse it seemed the +whistle of an engine; so deep, it surely came from a cutting. He went +home singing beneath the stars. He did not tread the ground. How +should he? Love was his permanent way." + +Miranda had listened so far without interruption, though the Major, +had he been less pleased with his flowery description, might have +noticed something ominous in the still depths of her dark eyes. "Mr. +Wilbraham," she said, "there is a little wicker table between us." + +"I see it." + +"And on the table?" + +"A pair of gloves." + +"Not only a pair of gloves." + +"Ah true! A riding-whip." + +"I was sure that you had not noticed it before." + +The Major picked it up and examined the mounting of the handle. "It is +very pretty," he remarked with emphasis, and laid it down again. "As I +was about to say,"--he proceeded with his argument,--"I thus obtained +on the night of Charnock's arrival a very clear knowledge of his +sentiments towards you, while you, on the other hand, have been +obliging enough to favour me with some hint of your own towards him, +not merely this morning, when you asked me to point out the precise +point of the road from which he worshipped your window, but yesterday +when, in order to give an impetus to his bashfulness, you ingeniously +courted myself. If I were, then, at all disposed to make +unpleasantness, you see that all I have to do is to walk out of your +house and inform the trustful Charnock that Mrs. Warriner is carefully +concealing the existence of her husband from the man with whom she is +in love." + +Miranda took up the riding-whip. The Major did not give ground. If +anything, he leaned a little towards her. His eyebrows drew together +until they joined; his bird-like eyes narrowed. + +"Drop it! Drop that whip," he commanded sharply. "I warn you, Mrs. +Warriner. I have dealt with you gently, though you are a woman; be +prudent. What if I took the gloves off? Eh?" + +"You would place me in a better position," replied Miranda, who still +held the whip, "to point out to you that your hands are not clean." + +Wilbraham stepped back, stared at her, and burst into a laugh. "I will +never deny that you are possessed or an admirable spirit," said he. + +"I would rather have your threats than your compliments," said she. +"For your threats I can answer with threats; I cannot do the same with +your compliments." + +"Threat for threat, then," said the Major; "but there's a difference +in the threats. You cannot put yours into practice since I have my +eyes upon the whip, whereas I can mine." + +"Can you?" said Miranda, with a suspicion of triumph. + +"I can," returned the Major. "I can walk straight out of your house +and tell Luke Charnock," and he banged his hand upon the table and +leaned over it. "Now what do you say?" + +"I say that you cannot, for Mr. Charnock is at Gibraltar, if he is not +already on the sea." + +"Mr. Charnock is at Ronda, and contemplating the ornaments of your +door at this very moment," said the Major, triumphantly. + +But never did a man get less visible proofs of his triumph. Miranda, +it is true, was evidently startled; her bosom rose and fell quickly; +but she was pleasurably startled, as her face showed. For it cleared +of its weariness with a magical swiftness, the blood pulsed warmly in +her cheeks, her eyes sparkled and laughed, her contemptuous lips +parted in the happiest of smiles. + +Wilbraham construed her reception of his news in his own fashion. + +"You may smile, my lady," said he, brutally. "It's gratifying no doubt +to have your lover hanging about your doors, a wistful Lazarus for the +crumbs of your favour. It's pleasant no doubt to transform a man into +a tame whipped puppy-dog. There's not one of you, from Eve to a modern +factory-girl, but envies Circe her enchantments, and imitates them to +the best of her ability. Circes--Circes in laced petticoats and +open-worked stockings--to help you in the dainty work of making a man +a beast." The Major's vindictiveness had fairly got hold of him. "But +in the original story, if you remember, the men resumed their shape; +now what if I play Ulysses in our version of the story!--" There was a +knock upon the outer door. The Major paused, and continued hurriedly: +"Do you understand? That knock may have been Charnock's. Do you +understand? He may be entering the house at this moment." + +"He is," said Miranda, quietly. + +The Major listened. He distinctly heard Charnock's voice speaking to +the servant; he dropped his own to a whisper. "Then what if I told +him, your lover, now and here, the truth about Ralph Warriner?" + +"You shall," said Miranda. + +Major Wilbraham was completely taken aback. She had spoken in no gust +of passion, but slowly and calmly. Her face, equally calm, equally +resolute, showed him that she intended and understood what she had +said. The Major was in a predicament. The drawback to blackmailing as +a profession is that the blackmailer's secret is only of value so long +as he never tells it, his threats only of use so long as they are +never enforced; and here he was in imminent danger of being compelled +to tell his secret and execute his threat. If Charnock knew the truth, +he would certainly lose his extra three hundred per annum. Moreover, +since Charnock was a man, and not a woman, he would very likely lose +his original seven hundred into the bargain. These reflections flashed +simultaneously into the Major's mind; but already he heard Charnock's +step sounding in the passage. "I don't wish to push you too far," he +whispered. "Tomorrow, to-morrow." + +"No, to-day," said Miranda, quietly. "You shall tell my lover the +truth about Ralph Warriner, and to help you to tell it him +convincingly you shall tell it with this mark across your face." + +Charnock did not see the blow struck, but he heard Wilbraham's cry, +and as he entered the patio, he saw the wheal redden and ridge upon +his face. He stood still for a second in amazement. Wilbraham had +reeled back from the table against the wall, with his coat-sleeve +pressed upon his smarting cheeks. Miranda alone seemed composed. There +was indeed even an air of relief about her; for she was at last to be +lightened of the deception. + +"Major Wilbraham," she said as she dropped the whip upon the table and +walked away to a lounge chair, "Major Wilbraham,"--she seated herself +in the chair as though she was to be henceforward a spectator,--"Major +Wilbraham has a confidence to make to you," she said. + +"And by God I have!" snarled the Major as he started forward. It would +be told for a certain thing, either by Mrs. Warriner or himself, and +since the slash of the whip burned intolerably upon his face, he meant +to do the telling himself. + +"That woman's husband is alive." + +Charnock's face was a mask. He did not start; he did not even look at +Miranda; only he was silent for some seconds. Then he said, "Well?" +and said it in a quite commonplace, ordinary voice, as though he +wondered what there was to make any pother about. + +Miranda was startled, the Major utterly dumbfoundered. His blow had +seemingly failed to hurt, and his anger was thereby redoubled. + +"A small thing, eh?" he sneered. "A husband more or less don't matter +in these days of the sacred laws of passion? Well, very likely. But +this husband is a peculiar sort of a husband. He slipped out of +Gibraltar one fine night. Why? Because he had sold the plans of the +new Daventry gun to a foreign government, being stony." + +"Well?" said Charnock, again. + +"Well, I know where he is." + +"Well?" asked Charnock, for the third time, and with an unchanged +imperturbability. + +Wilbraham suddenly ceased from his accusations. He looked at Miranda, +who was herself looking on the ground, and gently beating it with her +foot. From Miranda he looked to Charnock. Then he uttered a long +whistle, as if some new idea had occurred to him. "So you are both in +the pretty secret, are you?" he said, and stopped to consider how that +supposition affected himself. His hopes immediately revived. "Why, +then, you are both equally interested in keeping it dark! I can't say +but what I am glad, for I can point out to you precisely what I have +pointed out to Mrs. Warriner. I have merely to present myself at +Scotland Yard, observe that Ralph Warriner is alive, and mention a +port in England where he may from time to time be found, and--do you +follow me?--there is Ralph Warriner laid by the heels in a place which +not even a triple-expansion locomotive, with the engineer from +Algeciras for the driver, will get him out of." + +"And how does that concern me?" asked Charnock. + +"The consequences concern you. It will be known, for instance, that +Mrs. Warriner has a real live husband." + +"I see," said Charnock. He looked at Wilbraham with a curious +interest. Then he spoke to Miranda, but without looking towards her at +all. "It is blackmail, I suppose?" + +"Yes," said she. + +"It is a claim for common gratitude," Wilbraham corrected. + +"What's the price of the claim?" asked Charnock, pleasantly. + +"One thousand jimmies per annum is the minimum figure," replied the +Major, whose jauntiness was quite restored. Since his affairs +progressed so swimmingly towards prosperity, he was prepared to +forgive, and, as soon as his looking-glass allowed, to forget that +hasty slash of the riding-whip. + +"And up till now how much have you received?" continued Charnock, in +the same pleasant business-like voice. + +"A beggarly two hundred and fifty." + +"Then if for form's sake you will give Mrs. Warriner an I O U for that +amount she can wish you good-day." + +Wilbraham smiled gaily, and with some condescension. "Is it bluff?" +said he. "Where's the use? My dear Charnock, I have a full hand, +and--" + +"My dear Major," replied Charnock, "I hold a royal straight flush." + +He produced a telegram from his pocket. The Major eyed it with +suspicion. "Is that the telegram I brought into your room this +morning?" + +"It is. To keep up your metaphor, you dealt me my hand. Do you call +it?" + +The Major cocked his head. Charnock's ease was so very natural; his +good temper so complete. Still, he might be merely playing the game; +besides, one never knew what there might be in a telegram. "I do," he +said. + +"Very well," said Charnock. He sat down upon a chair, and spread out +the telegram on his knee. "You talk very airily, Major, of dropping in +upon Scotland Yard. Would it surprise you to hear that Scotland Yard +would welcome you with open arms, for other reasons than a mere +gratitude for your information?" + +The Major was more than disappointed; he confessed to being grieved. +"I expected something more subtle, I did indeed. Really, my dear +Charnock, you are a novice! Sir, a novice." + +"But a novice with a royal straight flush. Major, why have you been +living for four months at an out-of-the-way and unentertaining place +like Tarifa?" + +"I will answer you with frankness. I wished to keep my fingers upon +Mrs. Warriner. An occasional tweak of the fingers, dear friend, is +very useful if only to show that you are awake." + +"Was that the only reason?" + +"No," interposed Miranda. "He wanted quiet; he is translating Horace." + +The Major actually blushed, for the first and last time that morning. +Accusations, even proofs of infamy, he could accept without a stir of +the muscles; but to be charged, perhaps to be ridiculed, with his one +honourable project--the Major was hurt. + +"A little mean!" he said gently to Miranda. "You will agree with me +when you think it over. A little mean!" + +"But there was a third reason beyond those two," resumed Charnock. +"When I saw you dining at the hotel on the night of my arrival, when I +remembered that you had been living for four months at Tarifa, where +from time to time I had the pleasure to come across you, I began, for +reasons which there's no need to explain, to wonder whether you were +causing any trouble to Mrs. Warriner. That night, too, if you +remember, when I went for a stroll"--here Charnock faltered for a +second, and Miranda looked quickly up--"you followed me, Major. When I +sat down at the foot of the bank, you crouched upon the top. You made +a mistake there, Major, for I at once thought it wise to learn what I +could of your history and character. I accordingly wrote a letter that +night to a friend of mine, who also happens to be an official at +Scotland Yard. His answer, you see, comes by telegraph, and you will +see that a reply is prepaid." + +He handed the telegram to the Major. The Major read it through and +glanced anxiously towards the door, taking up his hat from the table +at the same time. + +"I think so, too," said Charnock. + +"What does the telegram say?" asked Miranda. + +"Nothing definite, but every word of it is suggestive," answered +Charnock. "I asked my friend if he knew anything of Major Ambrose +Wilbraham. He wires me: 'Yes. Is he at Ronda?' and prepays the reply. +If there's a warrant already issued, Major, I don't think I should +waste time, but you of course are the best judge." + +"Did you answer it?" asked the Major. + +"I have not answered it yet. Do you think Scotland Yard will wait for +an answer? It does not interest me very much. The one point which does +interest me is this. You are hardly in a position to enter into +communication with Scotland Yard in order to revenge yourself on Mrs. +Warriner for not paying you blackmail." + +Major Wilbraham tugged at his moustache. His jauntiness had vanished, +and his face had grown very sombre and tired during the last few +minutes. + +"I get nothing, then?" + +"Not one depreciated Spanish dollar." + +There was a knock at the door. The Major started; he looked from +Charnock to Miranda, his mouth opened, his eyes widened, he became at +once a creature scared and hunted. The door was opened; the three +people in the patio held their breath; but it was merely the postman +with a letter for Miranda. + +"I must get out of here," said Wilbraham. "I must get out of Ronda. My +God, I have to begin it again, have I--the hunt for breakfast and +dinner?" + +He showed a dangerous face at that moment. His lips were drawn back +from his teeth, his eyes furtive and murderous. Miranda felt very glad +of Charnock's presence. + +However, the Major mastered himself. He might have taken some sort of +revenge by insulting Miranda, on account of her disposition towards +Charnock; but he did not, and it was not fear of Charnock which +restrained him. + +"I go back to the regiment, Mrs. Warriner," he said, "the regiment of +the soldiers of fortune. I have had my furlough--four months' +furlough. I cannot complain." He endeavoured to speak gaily and to bow +with grace. + +"Good-bye," said Charnock. + +Miranda was implacably silent. + +"And they call women the softer sex," said the Major. + +"One moment," exclaimed Miranda, taking no notice of his remark. "Mr. +Wilbraham has a letter from my husband about the Daventry gun." + +"It is mine," answered the Major; "it was written to me." + +"I will buy it," said Charnock. + +"For a thousand--?" + +"No; for permission to answer this prepaid telegram to Scotland Yard." + +"In your name?" + +"In my name." + +"You're not a bad fellow, Charnock," said the Major as he drew out his +pocket-book. He handed the letter to Charnock, looked at him +curiously, and then laughed softly, without malice. + + + "O lover of my life! O soldier-saint!" + + +he quoted. "A great poet, what? Do you know Ralph Warriner? Will you +play Caponsacchi to his Guido? You might; very likely you will." The +Major took the reply form and turned away. + +"It is not always a profitable habit, it seems," said Miranda, "that +habit of following." + +"A little mean!" said the Major, gently. "Perhaps, too, a little +overdone," and as he went out of the patio Miranda flushed and felt +ashamed. Then the flush faded from her cheeks and left her white, for +she was alone with Charnock and had to make her account with him. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + EXPLAINS WHY CHARNOCK SAW MIRANDA'S FACE IN HIS MIRROR + + +Miranda rose nervously from her chair. She made an effort to speak, +which failed, and then yielding to a peremptory impulse she ran away. +It was only, however, into her parlour that she ran, and thither +Charnock followed her. She stood up rather quickly in the farthest +corner of the room as soon as he entered, drew a pattern with her foot +upon the floor, and tried to appear entirely at her ease. She did not +look at Charnock, however; on the contrary she kept her eyes upon the +ground, and felt very much like a school-girl who is going to be +punished. + +"Your husband is alive." Charnock's voice was cold and stern. Miranda +resented it all the more because she knew she deserved nothing less +than sternness. "Did you," he continued, "learn that from Wilbraham +for the first time this morning?" + +"No," she answered, and since she had found her voice, she added +rebelliously, "No, teacher," and was at once aware that levity was not +in the best of taste. Charnock perhaps was not at that moment in a +mood for jocularities. + +"How long have you known that your husband was alive?" he asked. + +"Five months," she answered. + +"Who told you?" + +"You." + +There was a moment's pause. Miranda's foot described more figures on +the floor, and with great assiduity. + +"I beg your pardon," said Charnock. "It is very humorous, no doubt, +but--" + +"It is true," interrupted Miranda. "If I had wished to evade you, to +deceive you, I should have answered that Mr. Wilbraham brought me the +news this morning." + +"I should have disbelieved it." + +"You could not at all events have disproved it. You would have had not +a single word to say." She raised her eyes now and confronted him +defiantly. + +"Yes," said Charnock, "I admit that," and a great change came over +Miranda. She stepped out of her corner. She raised her arms above her +head like one waking from sleep. "But I have had my fill of +deceptions. I am surfeited. Ask what you will, I'll answer you, and +answer you the truth. And for one thing, this is true: you told me +Ralph Warriner was alive, that night, at Lady Donnisthorpe's." + +"I told you? On the balcony?" + +"No, before. In the ball-room. You described him to me. You quoted his +phrases. You had seen him that very morning. He was the stranger you +quarrelled with in the streets of Plymouth." + +"And you knew him from my description!" cried Charnock. All the anger +had gone from his face, all the coldness from his voice. "I remember. +Your face grew so white in the shadow of the alcove I should have +believed you had swooned but for the living trouble in your eyes. Your +face became through its pallor and distress the face which I had seen +in my mirror. Oh, that mirror and its message!" He broke into a harsh +bitter laugh, and seating himself at the table, beat upon his forehead +with his clenched fists. "A message of appeal! A call for help! Was +there ever such a fool in all the world? Here's one woman out of all +the millions who needs my help, I was vain enough to think, and the +first thing, the only thing that I did, was to tell her that her +outcast bully of a husband was still alive to bully her. A fine way to +help! But I guessed correctly even that night. Yes, even on that night +I was afraid that I had revealed to you some misfortune of which you +were unaware. Oh, why wasn't I struck dumb before I spoke? But you +could not have been sure from my description," he cried eagerly, +grasping in his remorse at so poor a straw as that subterfuge. "For +men are not all unlike, and they use the same phrases. You could not +have been certain. You must have had some other proof before you were +convinced." + +"Yes, that is true." + +"And that other proof you got from someone else?" he said, and his +voice implored her to assent. + +Miranda only shook her head. "I promised to speak nothing but the +truth. I got that other proof from you." + +"No, no," he exclaimed. "Let me think! No, I told you nothing else but +just my meeting with the man, my quarrel with him." + +"Yes," said Miranda. "You told me how you woke up from dreaming of +Ralph, and saw my face in your mirror. Don't you see? There is the +convincing proof that the man you described to me, the man you +quarrelled with, the man you dreamed of, was Ralph, for when you woke +with that dream vivid in your mind, you saw my face vivid in your +mirror. You yourself were at a loss to account for it, you had never +so much as thought of me during the seven years since--since our eyes +met at Monte Carlo. You could not imagine why on that particular +night, after you had dreamed of someone else, unassociated with me, my +face should have come back to you. But it was no mystery to me. The +man you dreamed of was not unassociated with me; it was my husband, +and the husband recalled to you the wife, by an unconscious trick of +memory." + +"But I did not know he was your husband," cried Charnock. "I had never +seen him with you; I had never seen him at all before that day I +quarrelled with him in the streets of Plymouth." + +"You had," answered Miranda, gently. "He was with me that night at +Monte Carlo seven years ago. We were on our honeymoon," she added, +with a queer melancholy smile. + +Charnock remembered the look of happiness upon her young face, and +compared it with the tired woman's face which he saw now. "He was with +you!" he exclaimed. + +"Yes. You forgot us both. You met him again; you did not remember that +you had ever seen him, but none the less, the memory was latent in +you, and recalled me to you too. You could not trace the association, +but it was very clear to me." + +"Wait, wait!" said Charnock. He sat with his elbows on the table and +the palms of his hands tightly pressed upon his eyes. "I can see you, +as clearly as I saw you then at Monte Carlo, as though you were +standing there, now, in the room and I in the room was watching you. +You were a little apart from the table, you were standing a few feet +behind the croupier at one end of the table. But Ralph Warriner! Was +he amongst the players? Wait! Let me think!" + +Charnock remained silent. Miranda did not interrupt him, and in a +little he began again, piecing together his memories, revivifying that +scene in the gambling-room seven years ago. "I can see the lamps with +their green shades, I can see the glow of light upon the green table +beneath the lamps. I can see the red diamond, the yellow lines upon +the cloth, the three columns of numbers in the middle, the crowd about +the table, some seated, others leaning over their chairs. But their +faces! Their faces!" and then he suddenly cried out, "Ah! He was +seated, in front of you, next to the croupier. You were behind him," +and in his excitement he reached out his arm towards her, and with +shaking fingers bade her speak. + +"Yes," said she, "I was behind him." + +"You moved to him. I understand now. His back was towards me at the +first--when I first saw you, when our eyes met. It was that vision of +you, the first, which I carried away, it was that only which I +remembered--you standing alone there. It was that which came back to +me when I saw your face in my mirror, just the picture of you as you +stood alone, distinct from the flowers in your hat to the tip of your +shoe, before you moved to the table, before you laid your hand on +Ralph Warriner's shoulder, before he turned to answer you and so +showed me his face. I remember, indeed. I saw his hand first of all. +It was reached out holding his stake. I can even remember that he laid +his stake on _impare_ and then he turned to you. Yes, yes, it's true," +and Charnock rose from the table in his agitation, and walked once or +twice across the room. "It was Ralph Warriner I met at Plymouth, and +because of that trivial, ridiculous quarrel, I told you that he +lived!" + +He stopped suddenly in front of the writing-table, and stood staring +out through the window, while his fingers idly played with a newspaper +which lay upon the desk. + +"But Major Wilbraham," said Miranda, thinking to lessen his remorse, +"Major Wilbraham told me too, and only a month later; he came to me in +the Cathedral at Ronda here, and told me. He would have told me in any +case." + +"Wilbraham!" said Charnock. "Yes, that's true. How did he find out? +Who told Wilbraham?" and he turned eagerly towards Miranda. + +Miranda stammered and faltered. She had not foreseen the question, and +she tried to evade it. "He found out. He used his wits. He saw there +was profit in the discovery if he could--" + +"If he could make the discovery. I understand that; but how did he +make the discovery?" + +"Why, what does it matter?" cried Miranda. "He followed up a clue." + +Charnock noticed her hesitation, her effort to evade his question. +"But who gave him the clue?" + +Miranda moved restlessly about the room. "He set his wits to work--he +found out," she repeated. She sat down in the same chair in which +Charnock had sat. "What does it matter?" she said, and even as +Charnock had done, she pressed her hands upon her face. + +"You promised me to answer truly whatever question I put to you," said +he, who, the more she hesitated, was the more resolved to know. "I ask +you this question. Who gave him the clue?" + +"Since you will have it then,"--Miranda drew her hands from her +face,--"my poor friend, you did," she answered gently. + +Charnock was more than startled. His face changed. There was something +even of horror in his eyes as he leaned across the table towards her. +"I?" he gasped. "I did?" + +"I would have spared you the knowledge of that," she said with a +smile, "if only you would have allowed me to; but you would not. You +pointed out to him a brigantine, which you passed off Ushant." + +"Yes, the _Tarifa_." + +"The _Tarifa_ was once the _Ten Brothers_, Ralph's yacht which was +supposed to have been wrecked on Rosevear." + +"But the _Ten Brothers_ was a schooner," urged Charnock. "I was told +only a few weeks ago at Gibraltar--one of the Salcombe--oh yes, that's +true too. I suggested to Wilbraham--to Wilbraham who said he was +familiar with the look of the boat--I suggested to him that the +_Tarifa_ was one of the Salcombe clippers." + +"Yes. Wilbraham had known Ralph at Gibraltar, had seen the _Ten +Brothers_, very likely had been aboard of her. That was why the look +of the _Tarifa_ was familiar to him. When you told him the _Tarifa_ +was a Salcombe boat he understood why it was familiar. It was the +merest clue; but he followed it up and found out." + +"And blackmailed you!" continued Charnock. + +He turned back to the writing-table and the window. Again his fingers +played idly with the newspaper. For a while he was silent; then he +said slowly, "Do you remember what you said to me on the balcony? That +no man could offer a woman help without doing her a hurt in some other +way." + +"I spoke idly," interrupted Miranda. + +"You spoke very truly, for here's the proof." + +"I spoke to elude you," said Miranda, stubbornly. "It was a mere idle +fancy which came into my head, and the next moment was forgotten." + +"But I remembered it," cried Charnock. "It was more true than you +thought." + +"It was no more true than"--she hesitated. However, Charnock was not +looking at her; she found it possible to proceed--"than another belief +which led me astray, as this one is leading you." + +"What other belief?" + +Miranda nerved herself to answer him. "That no man would serve a woman +well, except for--for the one reason." + +The nature of that reason was apparent to Charnock from the very +tone in which she spoke the word. "And you believed that?" he asked. +In a movement of surprise he had knocked the newspaper off the +writing-table. Underneath the newspaper was a book. + +"I did believe it," she replied, her face rosy with confusion, "for a +few mad miserable days," and she checked herself suddenly, for she saw +that Charnock had absently opened and was absently turning over the +leaves of the book. + +"Was the message of your mirror after all so false?" she whispered. He +turned towards her, with a face quite illumined. He did not, however, +leave the table, and he kept the pages of the book open with his +fingers. + +"Then after all you do need help?" he cried. + +"Need it?" she returned with a loud cry, and she stretched out hands +across the table towards him. "Indeed, indeed I need it, I desperately +need it! I sent the glove because I needed it." + +"Then the glove was no sham?" + +"It was not the glove that you tore; that was thrown away, but not by +me. I searched for it, it was not to be found. So I tore the other and +sent it as a substitute." + +"And when I came, waited to discover," he added, "whether the one +reason held me to your service. I understand." + +"You see," she agreed, "really, in my heart, all the time I trusted +you, for I knew you would keep your word. I knew you would say +nothing, but would just wait and wait until I told you what it was I +needed done." + +Charnock turned abruptly towards her, and as he turned the book +slipped off the table and fell to the ground. "But yesterday," he +exclaimed in perplexity, "yesterday, here in this room, I gave you the +assurance which you looked for. You believed a man would only help you +for the one reason. Well, I told you that the one reason held with me; +yet, at that moment, you rejected all help and service. You cried out, +'It's the friend I want, not the lover.'" + +"Because just at that moment I understood that my belief was wrong. I +understood the shame, the horror, of the tricks I had played on you." + +"Tricks?" said Charnock. "Oh!" and as he stooped down to pick up the +book he added in a voice of comprehension, "At last! You puzzled me +yesterday when you said, 'To possess the friend you had had to _make_ +the lover.'" + +"Yes," she said eagerly, "you understand? I want you to. I want you to +understand to the last letter, so that you may decide whether you will +help me or not, knowing what the woman is who asks your help. I sat +down to trick you into caring for me if by any means I could. I did it +deliberately, how deliberately you will see if you only open the book +you hold. And it wasn't until I had won that I realised that I had +cheated to win and could not profit by the gains. I won yesterday and +yesterday I sent you away. Perhaps God kept you here." + +Charnock made no answer. He sat down at the table opposite to Miranda +and turned over the leaves of the book, whilst Miranda watched him, +holding her breath. He was not angry yet, but she dreaded the moment +when he should understand the subject-matter of the book. + +The book was a collection of letters written by a great French lady at +the Court of Louis XV. to a young girl-relative in Provence, and the +letters were intended to serve as a guide to the girl's provincial +inexperience. There was much sage instruction as to the best methods +of handling men, "ces animaux effroyables, dont nous ne pouvons ni ne +voudrons nous debarrasser," as the great lady politely termed them. In +the margin of the book Miranda's pencil had scored lines against +passages here and there. Charnock read out one:-- + +"Et prends bien garde de tellement diriger la conversation qu'il parle +beaucoup de lui-meme." + +"That accounts for the history of my life which I gave you in your +garden," said Charnock. He was not angry yet; he was even smiling. + +"Yes," said Miranda, seriously; "but there's worse! Go on!" + +"Soyez sage, ma mie," he read, turning over a page. "On ne possede +jamais un de ces animaux sans qu'on peut bien disposer d'un autre. +Celui que tu aimes, t'aimera aussi si tu fais la cour a un deuxieme. +Ils ont bien tort qui disent qu'il ne faut que deux pour faire +l'amour. Il faut au moins trois." + +"That accounts for Wilbraham, and the basket of flowers for +Gibraltar." + +"For Wilbraham, yes," said Miranda. + +Charnock did not notice that she excluded the basket of flowers from +her assent. He read out other items, still without any appearance of +anger. A foot carelessly exhibited and carefully withdrawn, the young +lady in the country was informed, might kick a hole in any male heart, +so long as the foot was slim, and the shoe all that it should be. +Charnock closed the book and sat opposite to Miranda with a laughing +face, enjoying her intense earnestness. + +"So you won by cheating?" he said, "and this book taught you how to +cheat?" + +"Yes, but I don't think you have grasped it," she replied seriously, +"and I want you to. I want you to understand the horrible, hateful way +in which I made you care for me. I now know that I ought to have +relied upon your friendship when you first came to Ronda. But I chose +the worse part, and if you say that you will not help me, why, I must +abide by it, and Ralph must abide by it too. But there shall be +nothing but truth now between you and me. I was not content with +friendship, I had the time I knew to try to make you care for me in +the other way, and I did try hatefully, and hatefully I succeeded--" +and to Miranda's surprise Charnock leaned back in his chair, and +laughed loudly and heartily for a long while. The more perplexed +Miranda looked, the more he laughed. + +"Believe me, Mrs. Warriner," he said, and stopped to laugh again, "if +I had met you for the first time at Ronda, I should have taken the +first train back to Algeciras. Your tricks! I noticed them all, and +they drove me wild with indignation." + +"Do you mean that?" exclaimed Miranda, and her downcast face +brightened. + +"I do indeed," answered Charnock. "Oh, your tricks! I almost hated you +for them." He began to laugh again as he recollected them. + +"I am so glad," replied Miranda, in the prettiest confusion, and as +Charnock laughed, in a little her eyes began to dance and she laughed +too. + +"Shall I tell you what kept me at Ronda?" he said. "Because, in spite +of yourself, every now and then yourself broke through the tricks. +Because, however much you tried, you could not but reveal to me, now +and then, some fleeting glimpse of the woman who once stood beside me +in a balcony and looked out over the flashing carriage-lights to the +quiet of St. James's Park. It was in memory of that woman that I +stayed." + +He was speaking with all seriousness now, and Miranda uttered a long +trembling sigh of gratitude. "Thank you," she said, "thank you." + +"Now what can I do for you?" he asked, and Miranda made haste to +reply. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + SHOWS HOW A TOMBSTONE MAY CONVINCE WHEN ARGUMENTS FAIL + + +She showed him the scribbled note which M. Fournier had brought; she +told him M. Fournier's story; how that Ralph had run guns and +ammunition from England into Morocco on board the _Tarifa_; how that +he had been kidnapped between M. Fournier's villa and the town-gate; +how that he was not held to ransom, since no demand for ransom had +come to the little Belgian; and finally how that it was impossible to +apply for help to the Legation, since Ralph was already guilty of a +crime, and would only be rescued that way in order to suffer penal +servitude in England. + +"What a coil to unravel!" said Charnock. "I know some Arabic. I could +go to Morocco. I went there once, but only to Tangier. But Morocco? +How shall one search Morocco without a clue?" + +He rested his chin upon his hand, and stared gloomily at the wall. +Miranda was careful not to interrupt his reflections. If there was a +way out, she confidently relied upon this man to find it. Once she +shivered, and Charnock looked inquiringly towards her. She was gazing +at the soiled note which lay beneath her eyes upon the table, and saw +again the picture of Ralph being beaten inland under the sun. She +began to recall his acts and words, that she might make the best of +them; she fell to considering whether she had not herself been in a +measure to blame for the shipwreck of their marriage. And so, thinking +of such matters, she absently hummed over a tune, a soft plaintive +little melody from an _opera-bouffe_. She ended it and hummed it over +again; until it came upon her that Charnock had been silent for a long +time, and she looked up from the note into his face. + +He was not thinking out any plan. He was watching her with a singular +intentness, his head thrust forward from his shoulders, his face very +strained. It seemed that every fibre of his body listened and was +still, so that it might hear the better. + +"Who taught you that tune?" he asked in a voice of suspense. + +"Ralph," said she, in some surprise at the question; "at least I +picked it up from him." + +And Charnock fell back in his chair; he huddled himself in it, he let +his chin drop upon his breast. He sat staring at her with eyes which +seemed suddenly deep-sunk in a face suddenly grown white. And slowly, +gradually, it broke in upon Miranda that he held the clue after all, +that that tune was the clue, that in a word Charnock knew how Ralph +had disappeared. + +"You know!" she cried in her elation. "You know! Oh, and I sent you +away yesterday! What if you had gone! Only to think of it! You know! +That tune has given you the clue? It was Ralph's favourite! You heard +it--when? Where? Tell me!" + +To her eager, joyous questions Charnock was silent. He did not move. +He still sat huddled in his chair, with his chin fallen on his breast, +and his eyes fixedly staring at her. Miranda's enthusiasm was chilled +by his silence; it was succeeded by fear. She became frightened; she +picked up the note and held it out to him and bade it speak for her. + +Charnock did not take the note or change his position. But he said:-- + +"Even on your honeymoon, you see, he left you to stand alone, while he +gambled at the tables." + +"But you mustn't think of that," she cried. "It's so small a thing." + +"But so typical," added Charnock, quietly. + +Miranda gave a moan and held her head between her hands. That Charnock +might refuse to help her, because with tears in her eyes she had +played the sedulous coquette, she had been prepared to acknowledge. +But that he would refuse to help, out of a mistaken belief that, by +refusing to help, he was helping best--that supposition had not so +much as occurred to her. + +"Read the note again," she implored him. "_Do quickly what you can!_ +And see, it is a week and more since M. Fournier was here. It is a +fortnight and more since Ralph was kidnapped in the Sok. Quickly! And +nothing is done, and nothing will be done, unless you do it. Oh, think +of him--driven, his hands tied, beaten with sticks, sold for a slave +to trudge with loads upon his back, barefooted, through Morocco! You +will go," and her voice broke and was very tender as she appealed to +him. "Please! You will have pity on me, and on him." And she watched +Charnock's face for a sign of assent, her heart throbbing, her foot +beating the ground, and every now and then a queer tremulous moan +breaking from her dry lips. + +Charnock, however, did not soften at the imagined picture of Ralph's +misfortunes, and he hardened his heart against the visible picture of +her distress. + +"When I was at Algeciras, I asked many questions about Ralph Warriner. +I listened to many answers," he said curtly. + +"Exaggerated answers," she returned, and as Charnock opened his mouth +to reply, she hastened to continue: "Listen! Listen! Here's the +strange thing! Not that I should need help, not that you should help +me, not that I should come to you for help. Those three things--they +are most natural. But that coming to you, I should come to the one man +who can help, who already knows the way to help. Don't you understand? +It is very clear to me. You were _meant_ to help, to help me in this +one trouble, so you were shown the means whereby to help." And seeing +Charnock still impenetrable, she burst out: "Oh, he will not help! He +will not understand!" and she took to considering how it was that he +knew, how it was that he recognised the tune. + +"You were in Tangier once," she argued. "Yes. You told me that not +only to-day, but at Lady Donnisthorpe's. You crossed from Gibraltar?" + +"Yes, just before I came to England and met you." + +"Just before! Still you won't understand? You find out +somehow--somehow in Tangier you come across a tune, an incident, +something. Immediately after you meet a woman, at the first sight of +whom you offer her your succour, and the time comes when she needs it, +and that one incident you witnessed just before you met her gives you, +and you alone in all the world, the opportunity to help her. Don't you +remember, when you first were introduced at Lady Donnisthorpe's, what +was your first feeling--one of disappointment, because I did not seem +to stand in any need? Well, I do stand in need now--and now you turn +away. And for my sake too! Was there ever such a tangle! Such a +needless irony and tangle, and all because a man cannot put a woman +from his thoughts!" And then she laughed bitterly and harshly, and so +fell back again upon her guesses. + +"You were in Tangier--how long?" + +"For a day." + +"When? Never mind! I know. I met you in June. You were in Tangier for +a day in May. In May!" she repeated, and stopped. Then she uttered a +cry. "May, that was the month. M. Fournier said May. You were the +man," and leaning forward she laid a clutching hand upon Charnock's +arm, which lay quiet on the table. "You were the unknown man who cried +'Look out!' through the closed door of M. Fournier's shop." + +Charnock started. He was prepared to deny the challenge, if assent +threatened to disclose his clue. But it did not. M. Fournier knew +nothing of the blind beggar at the cemetery gate where Charnock had +first heard the comic opera tune and registered it in his memory. That +was evident, since in all M. Fournier's story, there was no mention +anywhere of Hassan Akbar. + +"Yes," he admitted. "It was I." + +"And you shouted it not as a menace--so M. Fournier thought and was +wrong--but as a warning to Ralph, my husband, whom you will not speak +a word to save. You spoke a word then, very likely you saved him then. +Well, do just as much now. I ask no more of you. Only speak the word! +Tell me the clue, I myself will follow it up. Oh, he will not speak!" +and in her agitation she rose up and paced the room. + +Charnock rose too. Miranda flew to the door and leaned her back +against it. + +"Just for a moment! Listen to what M. Fournier said! He said that if +once we could lay our hands upon the man who shouted through the door, +we should lay our hands upon the means to rescue Ralph. Think how +truly he spoke, in a truer sense than he intended. You know why he +disappeared. You know who captured him. And if you don't speak, I +shall have no peace until I die," and she sat herself again at the +table. + +"Do you still care for him?" asked Charnock, with some gentleness. + +Miranda, who was wrought almost to frenzy, drummed upon the table with +her clenched fists. + +"Must we debate that question while Ralph--" Then she mastered +herself. "I know you," she said. "If I were to tell you that I loved +him heart and soul, you would go upon this errand, straight as an +arrow, for my sake. But I promised there should be nothing but truth +between you and me. I do not love him. Now, will you go to Morocco? +Or, if you will not go, will you speak?" + +"No. Let him stay there! Where he cannot harm you. What if I was +_meant_ to keep you from rescuing him?" + +"You do not know," she replied. "You can do me no greater service than +by rescuing Ralph, by bringing him back to me. Will you believe that?" + +"No," said he, calmly, and she rose from her chair. + +"But if I proved it to you?" + +"You cannot." + +"I will." + +She looked at the clock. + +"It is four o'clock," she said. "Two hours and a quarter before the +train leaves for Algeciras. Will you meet me on the platform? I had +thought to spare myself--this. But you shall have the proof. I will +not tell you of it, but I will show it to you to-morrow at Gibraltar." + +She spoke now with great calmness. She had hit upon the means to +persuade. She was convinced that she had, and he was afraid that she +had. + +"Very well," said he. "The 6.15 for Algeciras." + +They travelled to Gibraltar that night. Miranda stayed at the Bristol, +Charnock at the Albion; they met the next morning, and walked through +the long main street. Here and there an officer looked at her with a +start of surprise and respectfully raised his hat, and perhaps took a +step or two towards her. But she did not stop to speak with anyone. It +was two years since she had set foot within the gates of Gibraltar, +and no doubt the stones upon which she walked had many memories +wherewith to bruise her. Charnock respected her silence, and kept pace +with her unobtrusively. They passed into the square with Government +House upon the one side and the mess-rooms upon the other. Charnock +sketched a picture of her in his fancies, the picture of a young girl +newly-come from the brown solitudes of Suffolk into this crowded and +picturesque fortress with the wonder of a new world in her eyes, and +contrasted it with the woman who walked beside him, and inferred the +increasing misery of her years. He was touched to greater depths of +sympathy than he had ever felt before even when she had lain with her +head upon her arms in an abandonment of distress; so that now the +uncomplaining uprightness of her figure made his heart ache, and the +sound of her footsteps was a pain. But of the most intolerable of all +her memories he had still to learn. She led him into the little +cemetery, guided him between the graves, and stopped before a +headstone on which Charnock read:-- + + + RUPERT WARRINER, + Aged 2 Years. + + +and the date of his birth and death. + +The headstone was of marble, and had been sculptured with a poetic +fancy; a boy, in whose face Charnock could trace a likeness to +Miranda, looked out and laughed between the open lattices of a window. + +They both watched the grave silently for a while. Then Miranda said +gently, "Now do you understand? When Rupert was born, it seemed to me +that here was a blossom on the thorn bush of the world. But you see +the blossom never flowered. He died of diphtheria. It was hard when he +died;" and Charnock suddenly started at her side. + +"Those flowers!" he said hoarsely. + +Upon the grave were scattered jonquils, geraniums, roses, pinks, +camellias--all the rich reds and yellows of Miranda's garden. + +"You were cutting them, packing them, that afternoon when Wilbraham +came?" + +Mrs. Warriner shrank from looking at Charnock. + +"Yes," she confessed in a whisper. + +"My God!" he exclaimed. Miranda glanced at him in fear. So it was +coming; he was remembering the use to which she had put those flowers. +Would he loathe her sufficiently to withdraw his help? + +"Do you know what I thought?" he continued. "No, you can't guess. You +could not imagine it. I actually believed that you were cutting those +flowers so that you might send them to--" and he broke off the +sentence. "But it's too odious to tell you." + +"But I meant you should believe just that," she cried. "I meant you to +believe it. Oh, how utterly hateful! How could I have done it? I +wanted to hide that from you, but it was right you should know. I must +have been mad," and she convulsively clasped and unclasped her hands. + +"I understand why you dropped that bunch from the cliff," said +Charnock, "after Wilbraham had picked a flower from it." + +"I wanted to bring you here," said Miranda, "so that you might know +why I ask this service of you. As I told you, I have no love left for +Ralph, but he was that boy's father, and the boy is dead. I cannot +leave Ralph in Morocco a slave. He was Rupert's father. Perhaps you +remember that after I met you at Lady Donnisthorpe's I came back at +once to Ronda. I had half determined not to return at all, and when +you first told me Ralph was alive, my first absorbing thought was, +where should I hide myself? But it occurred to me that he might be in +need, and he was Rupert's father. So I came back, and when Wilbraham +blackmailed me, I submitted to the blackmail again because he was +Rupert's father; and because he was Rupert's father, when I learned in +what sore need he stood, I sent that glove to you." + +"I understand," said Charnock, and they turned and walked from the +cemetery. + +"Now will you speak?" she asked. + +"No," he returned, "but I will go myself to Morocco." + +"It is your life I am asking you to risk," said Miranda, who now that +she had gained her end, began at once to realise the consequences it +would entail upon her friend. + +"I know that and take the risk," replied Charnock. + +They walked out towards Europa Point, and turned into the Alameda. + +"There is something else," said Miranda. "Your search will cost money. +Every farthing of that I must pay. You will promise me that?" + +"Yes." + +"I wrote to M. Fournier yesterday. He will supply you. There is one +thing more. This search will interrupt your career." + +"It will, no doubt," he assented readily, and sitting down upon a seat +he spoke to her words which she never forgot. "The quaint thing is +that I have always been afraid lest a woman should break my career. I +lived as a boy high up on the Yorkshire hills, two miles above a busy +town. All day that town whirred in the hollow below. I could see it +from my bedroom window, and all night the lights blazed in the +factories; and when I went down into its streets there were always +grimed men speeding upon their business. There was a certain grandeur +about it which impressed me,--the perpetual shuffle of the looms, the +loud, clear song of the wheels. That seemed to me the life to live. +And I made up my mind that no woman should interfere. A brake on the +wheel going up hill, a whip in the driver's hand going down,--that +was what I thought of woman until I met you." + +"And proved it true," cried Miranda. + +"And learned that there are better things than getting on," said +Charnock. + +Miranda turned to him with shining eyes, and in a voice which left him +in no doubt as to the significance of her words, she cried:-- + +"My dear, we are Love's derelicts, you and I," and so stopped and said +no more. + +They went back to the hotel and lunched together and came out again to +the geraniums and bellas sombras of the Alameda. But they talked no +more in this strain. They were just a man and a woman, and the flaming +sword kept their lips apart. But they knew it and were not aggrieved, +for being a man and a woman they knew not grievances. + +The evening came down upon Gibraltar, the riding lanterns glimmered +upon the masts in the bay; away to the left the lighthouse on Europa +Point shot out its yellow column of light; above, the Spanish sky grew +purple and rich with innumerable stars. + +"The boat leaves early," said Charnock. "I will say good-bye now." + +Miranda caught the hand which he held out to her and held it against +her breast. + +"But I shall see you again--once--please, once," she said, "when you +bring Ralph back to me;" and so they separated in the Alameda. + +Charnock walked away and left her standing there, nor looked back. +Stray lines and verses of ballads which he had heard sung by women in +drawing-rooms here and there about the world came back to him--ballads +of knights and cavaliers who had ridden away at their ladies' behests. +He had laughed at them then, but they came back to him now, and he +felt himself linked through them in a community of feeling with the +generations which had gone before. Men had gone out upon such errands +as he was now privileged to do, and would do so again when he was +dust, with just the same pride which he felt as he walked homewards on +this night through the streets of Gibraltar. He realised as he had +never realised before, through the fellowship of service, that in bone +and muscle and blood he was of the family of men, son of the men who +had gone before, father of the men who were to follow. The next +morning he crossed the straits to Tangier. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + IN WHICH THE TAXIDERMIST AND A BASHA + PREVAIL OVER A BLIND MAN + + +He went at once to the taxidermist's shop. M. Fournier expected him, +but not the story which he had to tell. + +"You wish to discover the man who shouted through your door six months +ago," said Charnock. "It was I." + +M. Fournier got together his account-books and laid them on the +counter of the shop. "I have much money. Where is my friend Mr. Jeremy +Bentham?" + +"It is Hassan Akbar whom we must ask," said Charnock, and he told +Fournier of what he had seen on the day of his previous visit to +Tangier. + +The two men walked up to the cemetery gate, where Hassan still sat in +the dust, and swung his body to and fro and reiterated his cry "Allah +Ben!" as on that day when, clothed as a Moor, Ralph Warriner had come +down the hill. It was the tune which that Moor had hummed, and which +Miranda had repeated, that had led Charnock to identify the victim and +the enemy. + +Charnock hummed over that tune again as he stood beside the Moor, and +the Moor stopped at once from his prayer. + +"Hassan Akbar, what hast them done with the Christian who hummed that +tune and dropped a silver dollar in thy lap at this gate?" + +Hassan made no answer, and as though his sole anxiety had been lest +Warriner should have escaped and returned, he recommenced his cry. + +"Hassan," continued Charnock, "was it that Christian who betrayed thy +wealth? Give him back to us and thou shalt be rich again." + +"Allah Beh!" cried Hassan. "Allah Beh!" + +"It is of no use for us to question him," said M. Fournier. "But the +Basha will ask him, and in time he will answer. To-morrow I will go to +the Basha." + +Charnock hardly gathered the purport of Fournier's proposal. He went +back into the town, and that evening M. Fournier related to him much +about Ralph Warriner which he did not know. + +The idea of running guns in Morocco had appealed to Warriner some time +before he put it into practice, and whilst he was still at Gibraltar. + +"I did not know him then," said Fournier. "He had relations with +others, very likely with Hassan Akbar, but nothing came of those +relations. When he ran from Gibraltar in the _Ten Brothers_, he landed +at Tangier, and lay hid somewhere in the town, while he sent the _Ten +Brothers_ over to South America and ordered the mate to sell her for +as much as she would fetch. But in a little while Ralph Warriner met +me and asked me to be his partner in his scheme. He had a little money +then, and indeed it was just about the time when Hassan's fortune was +discovered. It is very likely that our friend told the Basha of +Hassan's wealth. If he knew, he would certainly have told," said M. +Fournier, with a lenient smile, "for there was money in it. Anyway, he +had some money then, I had some, I could get more, and I like him very +much. I say yes. He tells me of his ship. We want a ship to carry over +the guns. I telegraph to the Argentine and stop the sale. Warriner +sent orders to change her rig, as he call it, and her name, and she +comes back to us as the _Tarifa_. The only trouble left was this. The +most profitable guns to introduce are the Winchester rifles. But for +that purpose one of us must go between England and Tangier, must sail +the _Tarifa_ between England and Tangier. I could not sail a toy-boat +in a pond without falling into the water. How then could I sail the +_Tarifa?_ So Warriner must do it. But Warriner, my poor dear friend, +he has made little errors. He must not go to England, not even as +Bentham. To make it safe for Jeremy Bentham to go to England, Ralph +Warriner must be dead. You see?" + +"Yes, I see. But why in the world did he call himself Jeremy Bentham?" +asked Charnock. + +"Because he was such an economist. Oh, but he was very witty and +clever, my poor friend, when he was not swearing at you. At all events +he decided that Ralph Warriner must die, and that there must be proofs +that he was dead. So he packed up a few letters--one from his wife +before he was married to her--that was clever, _hein?_ A love-letter +from his _fiancee_ which he has carried about next to his heart for +six years! So sweet! So convincing to the great British public, eh? He +found that letter by chance among his charts. He gives it to me and +some others in an oilskin case, and sends me with one of his sailors +to the Scilly Islands. And then Providence helped us. + +"All that we hoped to do was to hear of a wreck, in which many lives +were lost, to go out amongst the rocks, where the ship was wrecked, +and to pick up that little oilskin case. You understand? Oh, but we +were helped. There was a heavy storm for many days at Scilly, and +after the storm for many days a fog. On one day the sailor and I--we +go out in the fog to the Western Islands, to see if any ship had come +ashore. But it was dangerous! I can tell you it was very dangerous and +very wet. However, we come to Rosevear, and there was the remnant of a +ship, and no sailor anywhere. We landed on Rosevear, and just as I was +about to place the oilskin case among the rocks where it would be +naturally found, we came upon one dead sailor, lying near to the sea +just as if asleep. I slipped the oilskin case into his pocket, and +then with stones we broke in his face. Ah, but that was horrible! It +made me sick then and there. But we did it, until there was no face +left. Then for fear the waves might come up and wash him away, we +dragged him up the rocks and laid him amongst the grass, again as +though he was asleep. We made a little mistake there. We dragged him +too far from the sea. But the mistake did not matter." + +"I see," said Charnock. "And that day I shouted through the door +Warriner sailed for England?" + +"Yes," replied Fournier. "I hired that morning a felucca to sail +himself across to Tarifa." + +"I remember." + +"The boat lay at Tarifa. He set sail that night." + +"Yes," said Charnock. "I spent the night here. I waited two days for +the P. and O. at Gibraltar, we passed the _Tarifa_ off Ushant, and +three days later I met Warriner in Plymouth. Yes, the times fit." + +"It is very likely Ralph who told about Hassan," mused M. Fournier, +with a lenient smile. "If he knew, he would have been sure to have +told; for there was money in it. To-morrow I will see the Basha." + +M. Fournier went down to the Kasbah and found the Basha delivering +justice at the gates. The suitors were dismissed, and M. Fournier +opened his business. + +"We do not wish to trouble the Legation," said he. "The Legation would +make much noise, and his Shereefian Majesty, whom God preserve, would +never hear the end of it. Besides, we do not wish it." And upon that +money changed hands. "But if the Englishman told your nobility that +Hassan Akbar was hoarding his money in utter selfishness, then your +nobility will talk privately with Hassan and find out from him where +the Englishman is." + +The Basha stroked his white beard. + +"The Nazarene speaks wisely. We will not disturb the dignity of his +Majesty, whom Allah preserve, for such small things. I will talk to +Hassan Akbar and send for you again." + +That impenetrable man was fetched from the cemetery gates, and the +Basha addressed him. + +"Hassan, thou didst hide and conceal thy treasure, and truly the Room +told me of it; and since thy treasure was of no profit to thee, I took +it." + +"When I was blind and helpless," said Hassan. + +"So thou wast chastened the more thoroughly for thy profit in the next +world, and thy master and my master, the Sultan, was served in this," +said the Basha, with great dignity, and he reverently bowed his head +to the dust. "Now what hast thou done with the Room?" + +But Hassan answered never a word. + +"Thou stubborn man! May Allah burn thy great-great-grandfather!" said +the Basha, and chained his hands and his feet, and had him conveyed to +an inner room, where he talked to him with rods of various length and +thickness. At the end of the third day the Basha sent a message to M. +Fournier that Hassan's heart was softened by the goodness of God, and +that now he would speak. + +The Basha received Charnock and M. Fournier in a great cool domed room +of lattice-work and tiles. He sat upon cushions on a dais at the end +of the room; stools were brought forward for his visitors; and M. +Fournier and the Basha exchanged lofty compliments, and drank much +weak sweet tea. Then the Basha raised his hand; a door was thrown +open; and a blind, wavering, broken man crawled, dragging his fetters, +across the floor. + +"Good God!" whispered Charnock; "what have they done to him?" + +"They have made him speak, that is all," returned M. Fournier, +imperturbably. He kept all his pity for Ralph Warriner. + +M. Fournier translated afterwards to Charnock the story which Hassan +told as he grovelled on the ground, and it ran as follows:-- + +"When the son of the English first came into Morocco I showed him +great kindness and hospitality, and how he returned it you know. So +after I was blind I waited. More than once I heard his voice in the +Sok, and in the streets of Tangier, and I knew that he had quarrelled +with his own people the Nazarenes, and dared not turn to them for +help. I sit by the gate of the cemetery, and many Arabs, and Moors, +and Negroes, and Jews come down the road from the country to the +market-place, and at last one morning I heard the steps of one whose +feet shuffled in his _babouches_; he could not walk in the loose +slippers as we who are born to the use of them. And it was not an old +man, whose feet are clogged by age, for his stride was long; that my +ears told me which are my eyes. It was an infidel in the dress of the +faithful. It may be that if I had seen with my eyes, I should never +have known; but my ears are sharpened, and I heard. When he passed me +he gave me greeting, and then I knew it was the Room. He dropped a +dollar into my hands and whistled a tune which he had often whistled +after he had eaten of my _kouss-kouss_, and so went on his way. I rose +up and followed him, thinking that my time had come. Across the Sok I +followed him, hearing always the shuffle of the slippers amidst the +din of voices and the hurrying of many feet. He did not see me, for he +never turned or stopped, but went straight on under the gate of the +town, and then turned through the horse-market, and came to a house +which he entered. I heard the door barred behind him, and a shutter +fixed across the window, and I sat down beneath the shutter and +waited. I heard voices talking quickly and earnestly within the room, +and then someone rose and came out of the door and walked down the +street towards the port. But it was not the man for whom I waited. +This one walked with little jaunty, tripping steps, and I was glad +that he went away; for the bolt of the door was not shut behind him, +and the dog of a Nazarene was alone. I rose and walked to the door. A +son of the English stood in the way: I asked him for alms with the one +hand and felt for the latch with the other; but the son of the English +saw what I was doing and shouted through the door." + +"It was I," said Charnock. + +Hassan turned his sightless face towards Charnock and reflected. Then +he answered: "It was indeed you. And after you had spoken the bolt was +shot. Thereupon I went back to the Sok, and asking here and there at +last fell in with some Arabs from Beni Hassan with whom in other days +I had traded. And for a long while I talked to them, showing that +there was no danger, for the Room was without friends amongst his own +people, and moreover that he would fetch a price, every okesa of which +was theirs. And at the last they agreed with me that I should deliver +him to them at night outside the walls of Tangier and they would take +him away and treat him ill, and sell him for a slave in their own +country. But the Room had gone from Tangier and the Arabs moved to +Tetuan and Omara and Sok-et-Trun, but after a while they returned to +Tangier and the Room also returned; and the time I had waited for had +come." + +"What have you done with him?" said the Basha. "Speak." + +"I besought a lad who had been my servant to watch the Room Bentham, +and his goings and comings. With the dollar which he had given me I +bought a little old tent of palmetto and set it up in the corner of +the Sok apart from the tents of the cobblers." + +"Well?" interrupted M. Fournier, "speak quickly." + +"One evening the lad came to me and said the Room had gone up to a +house on the hill above the Sok, where there were many lights and much +noise of feasting. So I went down the Sok to where the Arabs slept by +their camels and said to them, 'It will be to-night.' And as God +willed it the night was dark. The lad led me to the house and I sat +outside it till the noise grew less and many went away. At last the +Nazarene Bentham came to the door and his mule was brought for him and +he mounted. I asked the boy who guided me, 'Is it he?' and the boy +answered 'Yes.' So I dismissed him and followed the mule down the hill +to the Sok, which was very quiet. Then I ran after him and called, and +he stopped his mule till I came up with him. 'What is it?' he asked, +and I threw a cloth over his head and dragged him from the mule. We +both fell to the ground, but I had one arm about his neck pressing the +cloth to his mouth so that he could not cry out. I pressed him into +the mud of the Sok and put my knee upon his chest and bound his arms +together. Then I carried him to my tent and took the cloth from his +head, for I wished to hear him speak and be sure that it was Bentham. +But he understood my wish and would not speak. So I took his +mule-hobbles which I had stolen while he feasted, and made them hot in +a fire and tied them about his ankles and in a little while I made him +cry out and I was sure. Then I stripped him of his clothes and put +upon him my own rags. The Arabs came to the tent an hour later. I +gagged Bentham and gave him up to them bound, and in the dark they +took him away, with the mule. His clothes I buried in the ground under +my tent, and in the morning stamped the ground down and took the tent +away." + +"And the chief of these Arabs? Give me his name," said the Basha. + +"Mallam Juzeed," replied Hassan. + +The Basha waved his hand to the soldiers and Hassan was dragged away. + +"I will send a soldier with you, give you a letter to the Sheikh of +Beni Hassan, and he will discover the Room, if he is to be found in +those parts," said the Basha to M. Fournier. + +Charnock spent the greater part of a month in formalities. He took the +letter from the Basha and many other letters to Jews of importance in +the towns with which M. Fournier was able to provide him; he hired the +boy Hamet who had acted as his guide on his first visit, and getting +together an equipment as for a long journey in Morocco, rode out over +the Hill of the Two Seas into the inlands of that mysterious and +enchanted country. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + TELLS OF CHARNOCK'S WANDERINGS IN MOROCCO + AND OF A WALNUT-WOOD DOOR + + +In the course of time Charnock came to a village of huts enclosed +within an impenetrable rampart of cactus upon the flank of the hills +southward of Mequinez and there met the Sheikh. The Sheikh laid his +hands upon Mallam Juzeed and bade him speak, which he did with a wise +promptitude. It was true; they had taken the Christian from Tangier, +but they had sold him on the way. They had chanced to arrive at the +great houseless and treeless plain of Seguedla, a day's march from +Alkasar, on a Wednesday; and since every Wednesday an open market is +held upon two or three low hills which jut out from the plain, they +had sold Ralph Warriner there to a travelling merchant of the Mtoga. +Mallam supplied the merchant's name and the direction of his journey. +Charnock packed his tents upon his mules and disappeared into the +south. + +For two years he disappeared, or almost disappeared; almost, since +through the freemasonry of the Jews, that great telephone across +Barbary by which the Jew at Tangier shall hear the words which the Jew +speaks at Tafilet, M. Fournier was able to obtain now and again rare +news of Charnock, and, as it were, a rare glimpse of him at Saforo, at +Marakesch, at Tarudant, and to supply him with money. Then came a long +interval, until a Jew of the Waddoon stopped Fournier in the Sok of +Tangier, handed him a letter, and told him that many months ago, as he +rode at nightfall down a desolate pass of the Upper Atlas mountains, +he came to an inhospitable wilderness of stones, where one in Moorish +dress and speaking the Moorish tongue was watching the antics of a +snake-charmer by the light of a scanty fire of brushwood. The Moor had +two servants with him but no escort, and no tent, and for safety's +sake the Jew stayed with him that night. In the morning the Moor had +given him the letter to M. Fournier and had bidden him say that he was +well. + +In that letter Charnock told in detail the history of his search. How +he had held to his clue, how he had missed it and retraced his steps, +how he had followed the merchant to Figuig on the borders of Algeria, +and back; how he had gone south into the country of Sus and was now +returning northwards to Mequinez. He had discarded the escort, because +if a protection to himself, it was a warning to the Arabs with whom he +fell in. They grew wary and shut their lips, distrusting him, +distrusting his business; and since he could speak Arabic before, he +had picked up sufficient of the Moghrebbin dialect, what with his dark +face and Hamet to come to his aid, to pass muster as a native. M. +Fournier sent the letter on to Mrs. Warriner at Ronda, who read it and +re-read it and blamed her selfishness in sending any man upon such an +errand, and wondered why she of all women in the world should have +found a man ready to do her this service. Many a time as she looked +from her window over the valley she speculated what his thoughts were +as he camped in the night-air on the plains and among the passes. Did +his thoughts turn to Ronda? Did he see her there obtruding a figure of +a monstrous impertinence and vanity? For she had asked of him what no +woman had a right to ask. + +His frank confession of how he had defined women came back to her with +a pitiless conviction; "A brake on the wheel going up hill, a whip in +the driver's hand going down." It was true! It was true! She was the +instance which proved it true. There were unhappy months for Miranda +of the balcony. + +At times Jane Holt would be wakened from her sleep by a great cry, and +getting from her bed she would walk round the landing half-way up the +patio, to Miranda's bedroom, only to find it empty. She would descend +the staircase, and coming into the little parlour, would discover +Miranda leaning out of the open window and looking down to a certain +angle of the winding road. + +She had dreamed, she had seen in her dream Charnock with his two +servants encamped upon a hill-side or on a plain, and hooded figures +in long robes crawling, creeping, towards them, crouching behind +boulders, or writhing their bodies across fields of flowers. She saw +him too in the narrow, dim alleys of ruined towns, lured through a +doorway behind impenetrable walls, and then robbed for his money and +tortured for his creed. + +At such times the sight of that road whence he had looked upwards to +her window was a consolation, almost a confutation of her dreams. +There at that visible corner of the road, underneath these same stars +and the same purple sky, Charnock had sat and gazed at this window +from which she leaned. He could not be dead! And carried away by a +feverish revulsion, she would at times come to fancy that he had +returned, that he was even now seated on the bank by the roadside, +that but for the gloom she would surely distinguish him, that in spite +of the gloom she could faintly distinguish him. And so her cousin +would speak to her, and with some commonplace excuse that the night +was hot, Miranda would get her back to her room. + +These were terrible months for Miranda of the balcony. And the months +lengthened, and again no news came. Miranda began to wonder whether +she had only sent Charnock out to meet Ralph's disaster, to become a +slave beaten and whipped and shackled, and driven this way and that +through the barbarous inlands. + +The months were piled one upon the other. The weight of their burden +could be measured by the changes in Miranda's bearing. Her cheeks grew +thin, her manner feverish. The mere slamming of a door would fling the +blood into her face like scarlet; an unexpected entrance set her heart +racing till it stifled her. + + + * * * * * + + +Meanwhile Charnock had long ceased to be troubled by the interruption +of his career. He moved now across wide prairies of iris and asphodel +under a blazing African sun, with perhaps a single palm tree standing +naked somewhere within view, or a cluster of dwarf olives; he halted +now for the night under a sinister sky on a dark plain, which +stretched to the horizon level as the sea; he would skirt a hill and +come unawares upon some white town of vast, gaunt, crumbling walls, +that ran out for no reason into the surrounding country, and for no +reason stopped. He passed beneath their ruined crenellations, under +the great gateways into the tortuous and dark streets where men +noiseless and sombre went their shrouded way. There were nights too +when he sat with a Mouser pistol in his hand, searching the darkness +until the dawn. + +The continent he had left behind seemed very far away; the echo of its +clamours diminished; the hurry of its conflicts became unreasonable +and strange. He was in a country where the moss upon the palace roofs +was itself of an immemorial antiquity; where neither the face of the +country nor the ways of those who lived on it had changed. He had +waited as he turned his back upon a town in the violet sunset, to see +the white flags break out upon the tops of the minarets, and the +Mueddins appear. He had waited for their cry, "Allah Akbar!" and for +the great plaintive moan of prayer which rose to answer it from the +terraces, the bazaars, from every corner of the town, and which +trembled away with infinite melancholy over infinite plains, "Allah +Akbar! Allah Akbar!" + +From those very minarets, during long successive centuries, a Mueddin +at just that hour had uttered just that cry; so that the Mueddin +became nothing, but the cry echoed down the years. And just that same +answer had risen and trembled out in just the same plaintive +mournfulness, so that those who prayed became of no account, and the +prayer repeated by the generations, the one thing which lived. + +Charnock used to halt upon his road, turn his face backwards to the +town, and picture to himself that from East to West the whole +continent of Africa was murmurous with that one prayer, that the +Atlantic carried away the sound of it upon its receding waves, and +that the Nile floated it down from village to village through the +Soudan. He ceased to wonder at the indifference, the passivity, the +fatalism, of these mysterious men amongst whom he lived; for he felt +something of that fatalism invading himself. + +He continued his search, northwards from the Atlas, escaping here a +band of robbers, there struggling in the whirl of a swollen stream, +listening at night to the cries of the jackals, and yielding to the +witchery of a monotonous Arab flute into which one servant blew a few +yards away, while Hamet, in a high strident voice, chanted a no less +monotonous song. He continued his search almost because "it was +written." + +Until on a dull afternoon he came to Mequinez, with its palaces of +dead kings, which rise up one behind the other, draped in golden +lichens, vast roofs stretching away into the distance, green and grey +with the whipping of rains, tower overtopping tower, crumbling +crenellations of wall, silent, oppressive. Each palace shut and barred +after its master was dead, and left so, to frown into decay and make a +habitation for the storks. + +To this city Charnock tracked the merchant, and taking up his abode in +the Mellah with a Jew to whom M. Fournier had recommended him, he +walked out through the streets beneath the walls of the palaces, +neither inquiring for the merchant nor scanning the faces of the +passers-by, but wrapped in his burnous, careless of any cry, +impenetrable, unobservant, until he came out of the darkness of a +bazaar, and saw, right before his eyes, a door. + +The door was set in a wall perhaps sixty feet high. Charnock could not +see the top for the narrowness of the street. Blank, and menacing in +the sinister light, the wall towered up before his eyes, and reached +out to the right and to the left. And at the foot of the wall was the +door--a door of walnut wood, studded with copper nails, and the nails +were intricately ordered in a geometrical figure, impossible for the +eye to unravel. + +That Charnock already knew; he had made trial before now to unravel +those geometrical figures, once, very long ago, and very far away in +the white sunlit street of a Spanish town. Charnock stood and stared +at the door, and the Spanish town loomed larger before his vision, +drew nearer, moved towards him, first slowly, then quickly, then in a +rush. Ronda! Ronda! The town, as it were, swept over him. He seemed to +wake; he seemed to stand again in the street. To his right was the +chasm of the Tajo, and the bridge, and the boiling torrent; behind +that door lived--and these two years slipped from him like a cloak. +With an unconscious movement of his hands he pushed the hood back from +his forehead, and stood bare-headed and alert. He was again one of the +hurrying, strenuous, curious folk who live beyond the Straits. + +He gazed at the door. Behind that door's fellow Miranda lived and +waited. Even as the thought burned through his mind, the door opened. +For a moment Charnock imagined that Miranda herself would step out; +but only a Moor came forth from an interview with the Basha, and a +ragged, decrepit greybeard of a servant attended on the Moor and made +his path. Charnock was in an instant aware of a grey light filtering +between the squalid roof-tops, of the filth of the streets, of the +tottering walls of Mulai Ismail. He was in Mequinez. + +And at Mequinez the long two years should end, and in ending bear +their fruit. That door, on which his eyes were set, augured as much, +nay promised it. "Not a sparrow shall fall...." Just for this reason, +centuries ago, a Moorish conqueror had taken these slabs of walnut +wood in Spain, and brought them back upon the shoulders of his slaves +and made his door from them and set it in his wall at Mequinez; just +that Charnock coming to this spot centuries afterwards might be +quickened in his service towards a woman, and gird himself about with +the memory of things which were growing dim, and be assured the +service should not fail! Charnock was uplifted to believe it. + +He drew the hood again about his head, and the voice of the Mueddin +called the world to prayer. Through the open doors of the mosques, +from the white walls glimmering in the dimness within those doors, +from the streets, from the houses, the high-pitched tremulous prayer +rose and declined in an arc of sound. + +Charnock felt his whole being throb exultantly. At Mequinez, yes, and +to-night, his search would end. Surely to-night! For the hour after +the evening prayer was the hour for the selling of slaves. + +Charnock walked to the market and sat himself down in the first +dim corner. He did not choose a place prominent and visible, +inviting whosoever had wares to sell; he took the first seat which +offered--certain that wherever he sat Ralph Warriner would be brought +to him. He sat down and looked about him. + +Some half a dozen men were grouped about the market talking; a young +negress from the Soudan, a white Moorish girl, a young negro from +Timbuctoo, were brought to them in turn. They examined their teeth, +their arms, their feet. The Moorish girl was bought; the others passed +on, each with the owner. They were followed by the Moor whom Charnock +had seen step from the Basha's door. He wished to sell his decrepit +greybeard, and was met with laughter wheresoever he turned. These were +all the slaves in the market. + +Charnock did not lose heart. At any moment within the next few minutes +the narrow entrance to the market might darken, and Ralph Warriner's +owner thrust Ralph Warriner in--at some moment that would happen. + +Did Warriner still shuffle in the Moorish slippers as he walked? +Charnock found himself asking the question with a curious +light-heartedness. The negress was offered to him, and then the negro; +he refused them with a gesture. He lent an ear to the rustling +whispering traffic of the streets outside. He listened patiently, +confidently, for the sound of a shuffling footstep to emerge, and grow +distinct and more distinct. The Moor brought his greybeard to +Charnock's corner. Charnock held his head aside and listened for the +loose slap-slap of the slipper upon the mud. The Moor spoke, was +importunate; Charnock waved him aside impatiently. + +But as he waved his arm he turned his head; and then he suddenly +reached out a hand, while his heart leaped in his throat. "Ten +dollars," he said. The Moor began to expatiate on the merits of his +slave; he was still strong; he could carry heavy loads, and for far +distances. Charnock was impatient to interrupt, to pay the price. When +he had turned his head, suddenly, for an instant, he had looked +straight into the greybeard's eyes--and they were the blue eyes which +had stared into his--once, how many centuries ago?--through the window +of a hansom cab in a noisy street of Plymouth. Charnock had no doubt. +Other Moors had blue eyes, and in no other feature of this wizened, +haggard creature but his eyes could he trace a resemblance to Ralph +Warriner; but he had no doubt. All the intuitions of the last +half-hour came to his aid. He remembered the door, the call to prayer. +This was Ralph Warriner, and he had almost let him pass! Had he not +turned by mere accident just at the one moment when the greybeard's +eyes were raised, he would have lost his chance now and forever. +Warriner would have perished in his servitude, would have dropped +somewhere on the plain under a load too heavy, and lain there until +nightfall brought the jackals. + +The thought took Charnock at the throat, left him struggling for his +breath. So near had he been to failing when he must not fail! He began +to fear at once that another purchaser might step in, while the Moor +was still exaggerating his goods. Yet he must not interrupt; he must +give no sign of anxiety lest he should awaken suspicion; he must +bargain with extreme indifference while a fever burnt in all his +blood. + +"Thirty dollars," the Moor proposed. + +Charnock shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. The Moor turned +away; the slave followed the master. Charnock clenched his hands +together under the folds of his sleeves to prevent them reaching out +and clasping the man. The merchant walked slowly for a few yards. At +the entrance of the market there was a sudden obscurity; a tall man +blocked the way, entered, and stopped before the merchant and his +slave. Charnock's heart died within him; but the man only laughed and +passed on. + +Charnock felt all his muscles relax, as his suspense ended. For now +surely the slave would be brought back. The merchant turned slowly; +Warriner turned obediently behind him, and the obedience went to +Charnock's heart. It spoke of a discipline too hideous. Slowly the +owner returned to Charnock; it seemed that he would never speak. + +"Twenty-five dollars," he said. + +With an effort Charnock mastered his face and controlled his body. +"Twenty," he returned, and spoke of the slave's age, and how little +need he had of him. He heard the newcomer across the market haggling +over the negro from Timbuctoo. And at last,--at last the word was +spoken, the man he had come to search for was his, and his +inalienably, so long as he remained in any corner of Morocco. + +Charnock paid the money; he did not so much as glance again at his +slave. He rose from his seat. "Follow me," he said to Warriner in +Moghrebbin; and one behind the other, Miranda's lover and Miranda's +husband, master and slave, passed out of the market and down the +street towards the gate of Mequinez. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + CHARNOCK, LIKE THE TAXIDERMIST, + FINDS WARRINER ANYTHING BUT A COMFORTABLE COMPANION + + +On the way Charnock stopped at the _fondak_ where Hamet slept, and +bade the lad saddle the mules and bring them out of the town. Hamet +looked surprised, for nightfall was an ill time to start upon a +journey near the country of the Lemur tribes, but he was accustomed to +obey. Charnock's new slave did not even show surprise. Leaving Hamet +to follow him, Charnock passed through the gate. He dreaded to remain +in the town lest by some misfortune he might lose his slave; and, +besides, a nausea for its smells and its dirt began to gain upon him. +He walked down the slope of the hill to the olive trees and the mossy +turf. Lepers, of an unimaginable aspect, dragged by the side of the +beaten track and begged; robbers, who for their crimes had had their +eyes burnt out, kept pace with him, their eyelids closed upon red and +empty sockets; dead horses, mules, and camels were scattered by the +way, their carcases half devoured; everywhere were ruins, and things +decaying and things decayed; and over all was a sky of unbroken cloud, +and a chill lugubrious light. + +Charnock observed his surroundings with newly-opened eyes and hurried +on till he reached the olives. Then he stopped and turned to watch for +Hamet's coming. He turned a trifle suddenly and his slave +instinctively shrank away and stood submissive and mute, stilled by a +long companionship with despair. And this was a captain of Her +Majesty's Artillery, who had sailed his yacht in and out of Gibraltar +Bay! + +"My God, how you must have suffered!" cried Charnock, and he spoke in +the English tongue. + +Warriner raised a dazed, half-witted face. "Say that again," he said +slowly, and he spoke in Arabic. + +"My God, how you must have suffered!" + +Warriner listened with one forefinger uplifted; he moved his finger +backwards and forwards sawing the air. "Yes," he answered, and this +time in English; but his mouth was awkward and the English came +rustily from his tongue. "Yes, it has been a hell of a time." + +He spoke in a quite expressionless voice. But whether it was that the +forgotten sound of the tongue he used awoke in his dim mind faint +associations and a glimmer of memories, of a sudden he dropped upon +the turf amidst the olive trees and, burying his face in the moss, +sobbed violently like a child. + +Charnock let him lie there until he saw Hamet leading the mules down +the beaten way from the town-gates. Then he bent down and touched +Warriner on the shoulder. "Here is my servant--do you understand?--my +servant." + +The white man's pride answered the summons. Warriner got quickly to +his feet and drew a ragged sleeve across his face. Then he looked +round between the withered olives at that grey cruel ruin of a city +looming through the falling desolate light, and shivered. His eyes +lighted upon Hamet, and suddenly opened wide. "Those mules," he said +almost fiercely. "They are yours?" + +"Yes!" + +"Let us ride! O dear God, let us ride!" And until Hamet reached them, +his head darted this way and that, while his eyes searched the trees. +"Mind, you bought me," he said. "I belong to you; to no one else. How +far from here to the sea?" + +"Nine days." + +"Nine days," and he counted them over on his fingers. + +Hamet brought up the mules. Charnock unrolled a burnous and a turban. +Warriner plucked off his rags and put on the dress. Then the three men +rode out between the olive trees, past the outer rampart of breached +walls, into the open plain. + +"Shall we camp?" said Charnock. + +Warriner cast a look across his shoulder. Mequinez was still visible, +a greyer blot upon the grey hillside. "No," said he. + +They rode forward over carpets of flowers, between the hills. The +light fell; the marigolds paled beneath their mules' feet; the +gentians became any flower of a light hue. At last a toothed savage +screen of rock moved across Mequinez. + +"Here," said Warriner. He tumbled rather than dismounted from his +mule, stretched his limbs out upon the grass, and in a moment was +asleep. Hamet gathered a bundle of leaves from a dwarf palm tree and a +few sticks, lit a fire, and cooked their supper. Charnock woke +Warriner, who ate his meal and slept again; and all that night, with a +Mouser pistol in his hand, Charnock sat by his side and guarded him. + +The next morning they started betimes; they passed a caravan, farther +on a tent-village, and towards evening, from the shoulder of a hill +they looked down upon the vast plain of the Sebou. Level as a sea it +stretched away until the distinct colours of its flower-patches merged +into one soft blue. + +"Eight days," said Warriner; and that night, as last night, he asked +no questions of Charnock, but ate his supper and so slept; and that +night again Charnock sat by his side and guarded him. + +But the next morning Warriner for the first time began to evince some +curiosity as to his rescue and the man who had rescued him. The two +men had just bathed in a little stream which ran tinkling through the +grass beside their camp. Warriner was kneeling upon the bank of the +stream and contemplating himself in the clear mirror of its water, +when he said to Charnock: "How in the world did you know me?" + +"By your eyes." + +"We are not strangers, eh?" + +"I hailed you from a hansom cab once outside Lloyd's bank in Plymouth. +You expressed an amiable wish that I should sit in that cab and rot +away in my boots. Lucky for you I didn't!" + +"You were the man who jammed his finger? I remember; I thought you had +got a warrant in your pocket. By the way," and he lifted his head +quickly, "you never, I suppose, came across a man called Wilbraham?" + +"Ambrose?" + +"Yes, yes; when did you come across him?" + +"He was blackmailing your wife." + +"Oh, my wife," said Warriner, suddenly, as though it had only just +occurred to him that he had a wife. He turned his head and looked +curiously to Charnock, who was scrubbing himself dry some yards behind +him. "So you know my wife?" + +"Yes." + +"Ah!" Warriner again examined his face in the stream. "I think I might +walk straight up from the Ragged Staff," said he, wagging his grey +beard, "and shake hands with the Governor of Gibraltar and no one be a +penny the wiser." Then he paused. "So you know Wilbraham," he said +slowly, and paused again. "So you know my wife too;" and the pair went +to their breakfast. + +Warriner walked in front of Charnock, and the latter could not but +notice how within these two days his companion had changed. His back +was losing its timid differential curve; there was less of a slink in +his walk; he no longer shrank when a loud word was addressed to him. +Moreover, his curiosity increased, and while they were at breakfast he +asked "How did you find me?" + +And that morning as they rode forwards over the marigolds and irises, +Charnock told him of his first visit to Tangier and of Hassan Akbar. +"So when I came again," he said with perhaps a little awkwardness and +after a pause, "I had a clue, a slight one, but still a clue, and I +followed it." + +"It was you who shouted through Fournier's shop-door, was it?" said +Warriner. "That's the second time a cry of yours has fairly scared me. +So you know Wilbraham," he added in a moment; "so you know my wife +too." + +They halted at noon under a hedge of cactus, and Charnock, tired with +his long vigils, covered his head and slept. Through the long +afternoon, over pink and violet flowers, under a burning sun, they +journeyed drowsily, with no conversation and no sound at all but the +humming of the insects in the air and the whistle of birds and the +brushing of their mules' feet through the grass. That evening they +crossed the Sebou and camped a few yards from the river's bank in a +most lucid air. + +It was after supper. Charnock was lying upon his back, his head +resting upon his arms, and his eyes upturned to the throbbing stars +and the rich violet sky. Warriner squatted cross-legged beside a dying +fire, and now and then, as a flame spirted up, he cast a curious +glance towards Charnock. + +"How long have you been searching?" he asked. + +"Two years," replied Charnock. + +"Why?" + +The question was shot at him, in a sharp challenging voice. Charnock +did not move from his position; he lay resting on that vast plain +under the fresh night sky and the kindly stars; but he was some little +while silent before he answered, "Your wife asked me to come." + +Warriner nodded his head thoughtfully, but said no more. That night +Charnock did not keep watch, for they were across the Sebou and out of +the perilous country. The next morning they rode on towards Alkasar +with few words between them. Only Charnock noticed that Warriner was +continually glancing at him with a certain furtiveness, and it seemed +with a certain ill-will. Charnock grew restless under this +surveillance: he resented it; it made him vaguely uneasy. + +They rode with no shadows to console them until the afternoon brought +the clouds over the top of the Atlas. Towards evening they saw far +ahead of them the town of Alkasar amongst its gardens of orange trees +and olives. + +"We shall not reach it to-night," said Charnock, looking up at the +sky. + +"No, thank God," answered Warriner, fervently. "No towns for me! What +if it does rain?" + +So again they camped in the open, under a solitary wild fig tree, and +the rain held off. They talked indifferently upon this subject and +that, speculated upon news of Europe, and Charnock heard something of +Warriner's comings and goings, his sufferings and adventures. But the +talk was forced, and though now and again Wilbraham's name, and now +and again Miranda's, recurred, it died altogether away. + +Warriner broke it suddenly. "You are in love with my wife," he said. + +Charnock started up on his elbow. "What the devil has that got to do +with you?" he asked fiercely. + +The two men eyed one another across the leaping flames of the fire. +"Well, you have a right to put it that way, no doubt," said Warriner. + +Charnock sank down again. He felt resentment throbbing hot within him. +He was very glad that there were only five more days during which he +and Warriner must travel together alone, and during which he must keep +ward over the man he had rescued. + +But the next day was one of peace. The mere proximity of a Moorish +town had terrors for Warriner. His eyes turned ever towards it, scared +and frightened. His very body shrank and took on a servile air. +Besides, it rained. + +"We might sleep in Alkasar. There is a Jew I stayed with coming up; +you will be safe there," said Charnock. + +"I would sooner shiver to death here," replied Warriner, and they +skirted the town. + +But a little distance from the gates Charnock called a halt, and +taking Hamet and a mule he went up into the town. He sought out his +Jew, and bought a tent, which he packed upon the mule, and so returned +to where Warriner crouched and hid amongst the orange trees. Beyond +Alkasar they passed through a long stretch of stubble, whence acres of +wheat had been garnered, and at night the two men sat in the opening +of their tent, while the lad Hamet drew weird melancholy from his +pipe. + +Warriner was silent; he was evidently turning over some thought in his +mind, and his mind, rusted by his servitude, worked very slowly. A man +of great vindictiveness and jealousy, he was not grateful for his +rescue; but he was brooding over the motives which had induced +Charnock to come in search of him, and which had persuaded Miranda to +send him in search. Warriner had never cared for his wife, but his +wife had never till now given him any cause for jealousy, and out of +his present jealousy there sprang and grew in his half-crazy and +disordered mind a quite fictitious passion. + +He revealed something of it the next morning to Charnock. For after he +had waked up and yawned, after he had watched for a moment the busy +shadow of Hamet upon the tent-wall and heard the light crackle of the +breakfast fire, he roused Charnock with a shake of the shoulder and +resumed the conversation at the point where it had been broken off +when they sat by the camp-fire. + +"But I'll tell you a question which has to do with me, Charnock," he +said. "Is my wife in love with you?" + +"You damned blackguard!" cried Charnock. + +"Thanks!" said Warriner, with a chuckle. "That's answer enough." + +"It's no answer at all!" exclaimed Charnock, hotly, and he sat up +amongst his blankets and took refuge in subterfuges. "If what you say +were true, is it likely that your wife would have asked me to find you +out and bring you back?" + +"That's the very point I have been considering," returned Warriner; +"and I think it uncommon likely. Women have all sorts of underground +scruples which it's difficult for a man to get upside with, and I can +imagine a woman would send off her fancy man on this particular +business as a kind of set-off and compensation. See?" + +Charnock dared not trust himself to answer. He got up and walked to +the door of the tent, unfastened the flap, and let the sunlight in. + +"Funny thing!" continued Warriner, "I never took much account of my +wife. She was a bit too stately for me. It was just as though someone +played symphonies to you all day when you hankered after music of the +music-hall type. But somehow,--I suppose it's seeing you doing the +heroic and all for her, don't you know?--somehow I am getting very +fond of her." + +Charnock seemed to have heard not a single word. He stood at the door +of the tent, looking indifferently this way and that. His silence +spurred Warriner to continue. "I tell you what, Charnock," he said, +"you had better run straight with me. You'll find out your mistake if +you don't. I'll tell you something more: you had better let me find +when I get back to Ronda that you have run straight with me." He saw +Charnock suddenly look round the angle of the tent and then shade his +eyes with his hand. It seemed impossible to provoke him in any way. +"Mind, I don't say that I shall take it much to heart, if the affair +has stopped where you say it has." Charnock had said not a word about +the matter, as Warriner was well aware. "No," he continued, "on the +contrary; for no harm's actually done, you say, and my wife steps down +from her pedestal on to my level. Understand, sonny?--What are you up +to? Here, I say." + +Charnock had stridden back into the tent. He stooped over Warriner and +roughly plucked him up from the ground. "Stand up, will you!" he +cried. + +"Here, I say," protested Warriner, rather feebly; "you might be +speaking to a dog." + +"I wish I was." + +At that Warriner turned. The two men's faces were convulsed with +passion; hatred looked out from Warriner's eyes and saw its image in +Charnock's. + +"Get out of the tent," said Charnock, and taking Warriner by the +shoulder, he threw rather than pushed him out. + +"Now, what's that?" and he pointed an arm towards the east. + +"That's a caravan." + +"Quite so, a caravan. Perhaps you have forgotten what you said to me +outside the walls of Mequinez. You belong to me, you remember. You're +mine; I bought you, and I can sell you if I choose." + +"By God, you wouldn't do that!" cried Warriner. His years of slavery +rushed back on him. He saw himself again tramping, under the sun, with +a load upon his back through the sand towards Algiers, over the hills +to the Sus country; he heard again the whistle of a stick through the +air, heard its thud as it fell upon his body, and felt the blow. "My +God, you couldn't do that!" And seeing Charnock towering above him, +his face hard, his eyes gloomy, he clung to his arm. "Charnock, old +man! You wouldn't, would you?" + +"You'll fetch half a dozen copper _flouss_" said Charnock. + +"Look here, Charnock, I apologise. See, old man, see? I am sorry; you +hear that, don't you? Yes, I'm sorry. It's my cursed tongue." + +Charnock shook him off. "We left your rags behind, I believe, so you +can keep those clothes. The caravan will pass us in an hour." Then +Warriner fell to prayers, and flamed up in anger and curses and died +down again to whimpering. All the while Charnock stood over him silent +and contemptuous. There was no doubt possible he meant to carry out +his threat. Warriner burst out in a flood of imprecations, and Moorish +imprecations, for they came most readily to his tongue. He called on +God to burn Charnock's great-grandmother, and then in an instant he +became very cunning and calm. + +"And what sort of a face will you show to Miranda," he said smoothly, +"when you get back to Ronda? You have forgotten that." + +Charnock had forgotten it; in his sudden access of passion he had +clean forgotten it. Warriner wiped the sweat from his face; he did not +need to look at Charnock to be assured that at this moment he was the +master. He stuck his legs apart and rested his hands upon his hips. +"You weren't quite playing the game, eh, Charnock?" he said easily. +"Do you think you were quite playing the game?" + +From that moment Warriner was master, and he was not inclined to leave +Charnock ignorant upon that point. Jealousy burnt within him. His mind +was unstable. A quite fictitious passion for his wife, for whom he had +never cared, and of whom he certainly would very quickly tire, was +kindled by his jealousy; and he left no word unspoken which could +possibly wound his deliverer. Charnock bitterly realised the false +position into which he had allowed passion to lead him; and for the +future he held his peace. + +"Only one more day," he said with relief, as they saw the hills behind +Tangier. + +"And what then, Charnock?" said Warriner. "What then?" + +What then, indeed? Charnock debated that question during the long +night, the last night he was to spend under canvas in company with +Ralph Warriner. Sometime to-morrow they would see the minarets of +Tangier--to-morrow evening they would ride down across the Sok and +sleep within the town. What then? Passion was raw in these two men. It +was a clear night; an African moon sailed the sky, and the interior of +the tent was bright. Warriner lay motionless, a foot or two away, +wrapped in his dark coverings, and Charnock was conscious of a fierce +thrill of joy when he remembered Miranda's confession that she had no +love left for her husband. He did not attempt to repress it; he hugged +the recollection to his heart. All at once Warriner began softly to +whistle a tune; it was the tune which he had whistled that morning at +the gates of Tangier cemetery, it was the tune which Miranda had +hummed over absently in the little parlour at Ronda, and which had +given Charnock the clue--and because of the clue Warriner was again +whistling the tune in the same tent with himself--a day's march from +Tangier. + +Charnock began hotly to regret that he had ever heard it, that he had +charged Hamet to repeat it, and that so he had fixed it in his mind. +He kicked over on his rugs, and he heard Warriner speak. + +"You are awake, are you? I say, Charnock," he asked smoothly, "did +Miranda show you the graveyard in Gib? That was my youngster, +understand?--mine and Miranda's." + +Charnock clenched his teeth, clenched his hand, and straightened his +muscles out through all his body, that he might give no sign of what +he felt. + +"Bone of my bone," continued Warriner, in a silky, drawling voice, +"flesh of my flesh,--and Miranda's." Perhaps some deep breath drawn +with a hiss through the teeth assured Warriner that his speech was not +spoken in vain; for he laughed softly and hatefully to himself. + +Charnock lay quite still, but every vein in his body was throbbing. He +had one thought only to relieve him. Warriner had said the last +uttermost word of provocation; he had fashioned it out of the dust of +his child, when but for that child he would still be a slave; and out +of the wifehood of Miranda, when but for Miranda Charnock would never +have come in search of him. _Rupert Warriner, aged two_. The +gravestone, the boy looking out between the lattices, was very visible +to Charnock at that moment. He was in the mind to give Warriner an +account of how and why he was brought to see it; but he held his +peace, sure that whatever gibes or stings Warriner might dispense in +the future, they would be trifling and inconsiderable compared with +this monumental provocation. + +He was wrong; Warriner's malice had yet another resource. Seeing that +Charnock neither answered him nor moved, he got up from his couch. +Charnock saw him rummaging amongst the baggage, hopping about the +tent in the pale moonlight; the shadow of his beard wagged upon the +tent-wall, and all the while he chuckled and whispered to himself. +Charnock watched his fantastic movements and took them together with +the man's fantastic words, and it occurred to him then for the first +time to ask whether Warriner's mind had suffered with his body. He had +come to this point of his reflections when Warriner, stooping over a +bundle, found whatever it was for which he searched. Charnock heard a +light snick, like the cocking of a pistol, only not so loud. Then +Warriner hopped back to Charnock's side, knelt down and thrust +something into the palm of Charnock's hand. Charnock's fingers closed +on it instinctively and gripped it hard; for this something was the +handle of a knife and the blade was open. + +"There!" said Warriner. "You have to protect me. This is the last +night, so I give you the knife to protect me with." + +He hopped back to his rugs, twittering with pleasure; and turning his +face once more towards Charnock, while Charnock lay with the open +knife in his hand, he resumed, "My boy, Charnock--mine and +Miranda's--mine and Miranda's." + +The next evening they rode over the cobblestones of Tangier and halted +at M. Fournier's shop. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + COMPLETES THE JOURNEYINGS OF THIS + INCONGRUOUS COUPLE + + +M. Fournier received the wanderers with an exuberant welcome. He fell +upon Warriner's neck, patted him, and wept over him for joy at his +return and for grief at his aged and altered looks. Then he grasped +Charnock with both hands. "The deliverer," he cried, "the friend so +noble!" + +"Yes," said Warriner, pleasantly; "_ce bon_ Charnock, he loves my +wife." + +Within half-an-hour the two travellers were shaved and clothed in +European dress. + +"Would anyone know me?" asked Warriner. + +"My poor friend, I am afraid not," answered Fournier, and Warriner +seemed very well pleased with the answer. + +"Then we will go and dine, really and properly dine, at a hotel on +champagne wine," said he. + +They dined at a window which looked out across the Straits, and all +through that dinner Warriner's face darkened and darkened and his gaze +was sombrely fixed towards Gibraltar. + +"What are your plans?" asked Fournier. + +"The first thing I propose to do is to walk up to the cemetery and +astonish my friend Hassan Akbar." + +"You will not find him. The Basha thought it wise to keep him safe in +prison until you were found." + +"He has been there two years then?" said Warriner. "He had no friends. +Then he is dead?" For the Moorish authorities do not feed the +prisoners in the Kasbah. + +M. Fournier blushed. "No, he is not dead. He would have starved, +but,--you will forgive it, my friend? After all he had no great reason +to like you,--I sent him food myself every day,--not very much, but +enough," stammered M. Fournier, anxiously. + +Warriner waved his hand. "It is a small thing; yes, I forgive you." + +"And he may go free?" + +"Why not? He will not catch me again." + +M. Fournier's face brightened with admiration. + +"Ah, but you are great, truly great," he exclaimed; "my friend, you +are _magnanime!_ Now tell me what you will do." + +M. Fournier's magnanimous friend replied. "The boat crosses to +Algeciras to-morrow. I shall go up to Ronda. And you?" he asked, +turning to Charnock. + +"I shall go with you," said Charnock. + +"_Ce bon_ Charnock," said Warriner, with a smile. "He loves my wife." + +"But afterwards?" Fournier hurried to interpose. "Will you stay at +Ronda?" + +"No." + +Warriner's eyes strained out across the water to where the topmost +ridge of Gibraltar rose against the evening sky. Since his rescue two +thoughts had divided and made a conflict in his mind; one was his +jealousy of Charnock, his unreal hot-house affection for Miranda; the +other had been represented by his vague questions and statements about +Wilbraham. He was now to speak more clearly, for as he looked over to +the Rock, Wilbraham was uppermost in his mind. + +"You did not know Wilbraham," he resumed. "Charnock did, _ce bon_ +Charnock. I have a little account to settle with Wilbraham, a little +account of some standing, and now there's a new item to the bill. The +scullion! Imagine it, Fournier. He blackmailed my wife; blackmailed +Miranda! Do you understand?" he cried feverishly. "Miranda! You know +her, Charnock. Fournier, how often have I spoken of her to you? +Miranda!" And words failed him, so inconceivable was the thought that +any man should bring himself to do any wrong to his Miranda. + +M. Fournier stared. As he had once told Mrs. Warriner, Ralph had +spoken to him of Miranda; but it had not been with the startling +enthusiasm which at present he evinced. + +"I shall settle my accounts with Wilbraham first," continued Warriner, +"after I have seen Miranda. Did you know it was Wilbraham who sold the +plans of the Daventry gun?" + +"Was it?" exclaimed Charnock. + +"It was," and the three men drew their chairs closer together. +"Wilbraham was a moneylender's tout at Gib. I had borrowed money and +renewed; I borrowed again, and again renewed. You see," he argued in +excuse, "I would not touch a penny of my wife's estate; that of course +was sacred. It was Miranda's--" + +"And settled upon Miranda," Charnock could not refrain from +interposing. + +"Don't you call my wife by her christian name, else you and I will +quarrel," exclaimed Warriner, banging his fist violently upon the +table, and M. Fournier anxiously signed to Charnock to be silent. + +"It was a slip," said Fournier, and soothingly he patted Warriner on +the shoulder. "Here! have one or two fine champagne, eh? Now go on; we +are all of us good friends. You borrowed twice from Wilbraham and did +not pay; you would not, of course. Well?" + +"I tried to borrow a third time," continued Warriner; "but Wilbraham +refused unless I could offer him good security. He himself suggested +the plans of the Daventry gun. He swore most solemnly that he would +not use them; he would keep them as a security for three weeks, and I +wanted his money. I had debts to pay, debts to my brother officers, +and I agreed. He lent me the money; I gave him the plans, and he went +off to Paris and sold them. I received a hint one afternoon that the +mechanism of the gun was known, and I ran out of Gibraltar that +evening. So, you see, I have an account with him; and it grows and +grows and grows upon me each time that I see that." He pointed a +shaking finger to where the sharp ridge of Gibraltar cut the evening +sky. "Now that I can go where I will and no one will know me, I will +get the account paid, and cut a receipt in full with a knife right +across Wilbraham's face." + +His voice rose and quavered with a feverish excitement, his eyes shone +and glittered; it seemed to Charnock there was madness in them. M. +Fournier's eyes met his and they exchanged glances, so M. Fournier, +who was engaged in assiduously soothing Warriner, shared the +conjecture. Indeed, as M. Fournier took his leave, he said privately +to Charnock: "My poor friend! what will be the end of it for him? His +wife does not like him and he will follow this Wilbraham, and he is +not himself." + +Charnock was lighting his candle at the hall-table. + +"Yes," said he, slowly. "There is his wife, there is Wilbraham, there +is himself; what is to be the end of it all?" + +He went up the stairs to his room. His room communicated with +Warriner's, and taking the key from the door, he left the door +unlocked. More than once as he tossed upon his bed vainly reiterating +the question, what was to be the end, he heard the latch of the door +click, he saw the door open slowly, he saw a head come cautiously +through the opening; and then, as he lay still, Warriner came hopping +across the room to his bed. Warriner came to assure himself that +Charnock had not stolen a march upon him during the night; he was +possessed by a crazy fear lest Charnock should see Miranda before +himself. + +On the following afternoon they crossed together to Algeciras, through +a rough sea in a strong wind. + +"It's the Levanter," said Warriner; "there'll be three days of it." He +looked earnestly at Gibraltar as the boat turned into the bay. +"Wilbraham, Wilbraham," he muttered in a voice of anticipation. Then +he turned to Charnock. "Mind, we go up to Ronda together! We shall +have to stay the night at Algeciras. Mind, you are not to charter a +special and go up ahead while I am asleep." + +Charnock was sorely tempted to secure an engine, as he could have +done, but Miranda had asked to see him "once when he brought Ralph +back," and so the next morning they travelled together. + +At noon Charnock saw again the walnut door encrusted with the copper +nails, and Warriner was already hammering upon it with his stick. The +moment it was opened he rushed through without a word, thrusting the +servant aside. + +Charnock followed him, but though he followed he had the advantage, +for while Warriner gazed about the patio into which for the first time +he entered, Charnock ran across to the little room in which Miranda +was wont to sit. He opened the door. + +"Empty," said Warriner, from behind his shoulder, and he pushed past +Charnock into the room. From the balcony above them Jane Holt spoke. +She spoke to Charnock as she ran down the stair. + +"It's you at last! Miranda is at Gibraltar. She expected to hear of +you, and thought she would hear more quickly there. She has been ill, +besides; she needed doctors." + +"Ill?" exclaimed Charnock. + +"Who is that?" asked Miss Holt, glancing across Charnock's shoulder. + +"Ralph." + +"Ralph!" cried out Miss Holt. "But he's--" + +"Hush!" + +They followed Warriner into the room, and Charnock closed the door. + +"Didn't you know?" he asked. "I went to find him." + +"No," she replied, utterly bewildered. "It seems strange; but Miranda +is very secret. A little unkind, perhaps," and then her voice went up +almost in a scream as Warriner turned towards her. "Ralph! Is that +Ralph?" + +"Yes, yes, it's Ralph," said Warriner, and all the time he spoke, he +trotted and hopped and danced about the room. "Ralph Warriner, to be +sure; a little bit aged, eh, Jane Holt? Little bit musty? Been lyin' +too long in the churchyard at Scilly--bound to alter your looks +that,--what?" He skipped over to the writing table and began with a +seeming aimlessness to pull out the drawers. "Where's Miranda? Does +she know her lovin' husband's here? Why don't she come? Tell me that, +Jane Holt!" He made a quick, and to Charnock an unintelligible, +movement at the writing table, shut up a drawer with a bang, and the +next moment he had a hand tight upon Jane Holt's wrist. "Where's +Miranda? Quick!" and he shook her arm fiercely, but with a sly look +towards Charnock; his other hand he thrust into his pocket. Charnock +just got a glimpse of a sheet of paper clenched in the fist. Warriner +withdrew his hand from his pocket empty. He had stolen something from +the writing drawer. But what it was Charnock could not guess, nor did +he think it wise, in view of Warriner's excitement, to ask. + +"Miranda's at Gibraltar," said Miss Holt, quite alarmed by the man's +extravagance. "I told you, she is ill." + +Warriner waited to hear no more. He dropped her arm. "At Gibraltar," +he said, and ran out of the room across the patio. Charnock followed +him immediately. "He must not go alone," he cried over his shoulder to +Miss Holt, but the excuse was only half of his motive. Passion, +resentment, jealousy,--these too ordered him and he obeyed. + +Charnock came up with Warriner at the railway station. The train did +not leave Ronda until three, as Charnock might have known and so +behaved with dignity before Miss Holt; but he was beyond the power of +argument or reflection. He hurried after Warriner and caught him up, +and during the two hours of waiting, the two men kept watch and ward +upon each other. Together they walked to the hotel, they lunched at +the same table, they returned side by side to the station, and seated +themselves side by side in the same carriage of the train. The train +which takes four hours to climb to Ronda runs down that long slope of +a hundred miles in two hours. Charnock and Warriner took their seats +in a _coupe_ at the end of the last carriage; they rushed suddenly +into the dark straight tunnels, and saw the mouths by which they had +entered as round O's of light which contracted and contracted until a +mere pin's-point of sunshine was visible far away, and then suddenly +they were out again in the daylight. + +There were certain landmarks with which Charnock was familiar,--a +precipitous gorge upon the right, an underground river which flooded +out from a hillside upon the left, a white town far away upon a green +slope like a flock of sheep herded together, and finally the glades of +the cork forest with the gleam of its stripped tree-trunks. The train +drew up at Algeciras a few minutes after five. + +Charnock and Warriner were met with the statement that the Levanter +of yesterday had increased in force, and by the order of the +harbour-master the port of Algeciras was closed. It was impossible to +make the passage to Gibraltar--and Miranda was ill. She had needed +doctors, Jane Holt had said. Charnock's fears exaggerated the malady; +she might be dying; she might die while he and Warriner waited at +Algeciras for the sea to subside. "We must reach Gibraltar to-night," +he cried. + +"And before gunfire," added Warriner. "But how?" + +Charnock went straight to the office of the manager of the line. The +manager greeted him with warmth. "But, man, where have you been these +two years?" he exclaimed. + +"There's a station at San Roque half-way round the bay," said +Charnock. "I must get into Gibraltar to-night. If I can have a special +to San Roque, I might drive the last nine miles." + +Gibraltar is before everything a fortress, and the gates of that +fortress are closed for the night at gunfire, and opened again for the +day at gunfire in the morning. + +"You will never do it," said the manager. "The gun goes off at seven." + +"What's the month?" cried Warriner. + +"July," answered the manager, in surprise. + +"And the day of July?" + +"The fifth." + +"Good," cried Warriner. "You are wrong; on the fifth of July the gun +goes off at eight--from the fifth of July to the thirty-first of +August." + +The manager uncoupled one carriage and the engine, coupled them +together and switched them on to the up-line. Meanwhile Charnock +telegraphed to the station-master at San Roque, to have a carriage in +readiness; but time was occupied, and it was six o'clock before the +engine steamed into San Roque. + +San Roque is a wayside station; the village lies a mile away, hidden +behind a hill. Charnock and Warriner alighted amongst fields and +thickets of trees, but nowhere was there a house visible, and worst of +all, there was no carriage in the lane outside the station. The +station-master had ordered one, and no doubt one would arrive. He +counselled patience. + +For half-an-hour the incongruous companions, united by a common +passion and a mutual hate, kicked their heels upon the lonely platform +of San Roque. Then at last a crazy, battered, creaking diligence, +drawn by six broken-kneed, sore-backed mules, cantered up to the +station with a driver and a boy upon the box, whooping exhortations to +the mules with the full power of their lungs. + +Charnock and Warriner sprang up into the hooded seat behind the box, +the driver turned his mules, and the diligence went off at a canter, +along an unmade track across the fields. + +It was now close upon a quarter to seven, and nine miles lay between +San Roque and the gates of Gibraltar. Moreover, there was no road for +the first part of the journey, merely this unmade track across the +fields. The two men urged on the driver with open-handed promises; the +driver screamed and shouted at his mules: "Hi! mules, here's a bull +after you!" He counterfeited the barking of dogs; but the mules were +accustomed to his threats and exhortations; they knew there were no +dogs at their heels, and they kept to their regular canter. + +Charnock longed for the fields to end and for the road to begin; and +when the road did begin, he longed again for the fields. The road +consisted of long lines of ruts, ruts which were almost trenches, ruts +which had been baked hard by the summer suns. The mules stumbled +amongst them, the diligence tossed and pitched and rolled like a boat +in a heavy sea; Charnock and Warriner clung to their seats, while the +driver continually looked round to see whether a wheel had slipped off +from its axle. At times the boy would jump down from the box, and +running forward with the whip in his hand, would beat the mules with +the butt-end; the lash had long ceased to influence their movements. + +"The road's infernal," cried Warriner. + +"It will be when we get to the sea," replied the driver, and Charnock +groaned in his distress. There was worse to come, and Miranda was ill. + +The diligence lurched between two clumps of juniper trees, swung round +a wall, and instantly the wheels sank into soft sand. The huge, sheer +landward face of Gibraltar Rock towered up before them as they looked +across the mile of neutral ground, that flat neck of land between the +Mediterranean and the Bay. They saw the Spanish frontier town of +Linea; but to Linea the sand stretched in a broad golden curve, soft +and dry, and through that curve of sand the wheels of the diligence +had to plough. The mules were beaten onwards, but the Levanter blew +dead in their teeth. The driver turned the diligence towards the sea, +and drove with the water splashing over the wheels; there the sand +bound, and the pace was faster. + +It was still, however, too slow; Gibraltar seemed still as far away. +The travellers paid the driver, leaped from their seats, and ran over +the soft clogging sand to Linea. They reached Linea. They passed the +sentinel and the iron gates, they stood upon the neutral ground. They +had but one more mile to traverse. + +A cab stood without the iron gates. They jumped into it and drove at a +gallop across the level; but the gun was fired from the Rock, while +they were still half-a-mile from the gate, and the cabman brought his +horses to a standstill. + +"What now?" said Warriner. + +"We might get in," said Charnock. + +"The keys are taken to the Governor. There would be trouble; there +always is. I know there would be questions asked; it would not be +safe. I might slip in when the gates are open, but now it would not be +safe. And mind, Charnock, when you go in I go in too." + +There was no doubt that Warriner meant what he said, every word of it. +For Miranda's sake Charnock could not risk Warriner's detection. They +must remain outside Gibraltar for that night, even though during the +night Miranda should die. + +"Can we sleep at Linea?" said Charnock. + +"No, Linea is a collection of workmen's houses and workmen's +pot-houses." The two men made their supper at one of these latter, and +for the rest of the night paced the neutral ground before Gibraltar. + +A scud of clouds darkened the sky, and one pile of cloud, darker than +the rest, lowered stationary upon the summit of the Rock. All night +the Levanter blew pitilessly cold across that unprotected neck of land +between sea and sea. With their numbed hands in their pockets, and +their coats buttoned to the throat, Charnock and Warriner, accustomed +to the blaze of a Morocco sun, waited from nightfall until midnight, +and from midnight through the biting, dreary hours till dawn. + +The gates were opened at three o'clock in the morning. Together the +two men went through; they had still hours to wait before they could +return to the hotel. They breakfasted together, and they let the time +go by, for now that they were within reach of, almost within sight of, +Miranda Warriner, they both began to hesitate. What was to be the end? +They looked at one another across the table with that question +speaking from their eyes. They walked down to the hotel and faced each +other at the door, and the question was still repeated and still +unanswered. They turned away together and strolled a few yards, and +turned and came back again. This time Charnock entered the hotel. "Is +Mrs. Warriner in?" he asked. + +The waiter replied, "Yes." + +Charnock drew a long breath. Surely if much had been amiss with her +the waiter would have told them; but he said nothing, he merely led +the way upstairs. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + IN WHICH CHARNOCK ASTONISHES RALPH + WARRINER + + +The waiter threw open the door, the two men entered, and Warriner shut +the door. Miranda rose from a chair and stood looking from Charnock to +Warriner and back again from Warriner to Charnock; and as yet no word +was spoken by anyone of them. Charnock had time to note, and grieve +for, the pallor of her face and the purple hollows about her eyes. +Then she moved forward for a step or two quite steadily; she murmured +a name and the name was not Ralph; and then suddenly, without any +warning, she fell to the ground between Charnock and her husband, and +lay still and lifeless. + +"My God, she's dead!" whispered Warriner. "We should have sent word of +our coming. We have killed her," and then he stopped. For Charnock was +standing by the side of Miranda and talking down to her as she lay, in +a low, soft, chiding voice. + +"Come," he was saying, "it's what you wished. You will be glad when +you have time to think over it and understand. There is no reason why +you should--" + +This intimate talking with the lifeless woman came upon Warriner as +something horrible. "Man, can't you see?" he whispered hoarsely. +"She's dead, Miranda is. We have killed her, you and I." + +Charnock slowly turned his head towards Warriner and looked at him +steadily with his eyebrows drawn down over his eyes. Somehow Warriner +was frightened by that glance; he felt a chill creep down his spine; +he was more frightened than even on that morning when Charnock +threatened to sell him outside Alkasar. "She's dead, I tell you," he +babbled, and so was silent. + +Charnock looked back to Miranda, sank upon one knee by her side, and +bending his head down began to whisper to her exhortations, gentle +reproaches at her lack of courage, and between his words he smiled at +her as at a wayward child. + +"There is no reason to fear," the uncanny talk went on; "and it hurts +us! You don't know how much. You might as well speak, not be like +this--pretending." He reached over her and took her hand, cherished it +in his own, and entwined his fingers with her fingers and then +laughed, as though her fingers had responded to his own. "You are +rather cruel, you know." + +Warriner moved uneasily. "Charnock, I tell you Miranda's--" + +Charnock flung his other arm across her body and crouched over it, +glaring at Warriner like a beast about to spring. + +"And I tell you she's not, she's not, she's not!" he hissed out. +"Dead!" and suddenly he lifted up Miranda's head, held it in the +hollow of his arm and kissed the face upon the forehead and the lips. +"Dead?" and he broke out into a laugh. "Is she? I'll show you. Come! +Come!" He forced his disengaged arm underneath her waist, and putting +all his strength into the swing lifted himself on to his feet, and +lifted Miranda with him. "Now don't you see?" Warriner was standing, +his mouth open, his eyes contracted; there was more than horror +expressed in them, there was terror besides. + +"Don't you see?" cried Charnock, in a wild triumph. "Perhaps you are +blind. Are you blind, Ralph Warriner?" + +He held Miranda supported against his shoulder, and swung her up and +tried to set her dangling feet firm-planted on the ground; but her +limbs gave, her head rolled upon his shoulder. He hitched her up +again, her head fell back exposing the white column of her throat. The +heavy masses of her hair broke from their fastenings, unrolled about +her shoulders, and tumbled about his. He tried again to set her on her +feet, and her head fell forward upon his breast, and her hair swept +across his lips. "There, man," he cried, "she can stand.... Can a dead +woman stand? Tell me that!" He held her so that she had the posture, +the semblance, of one who stands, though all her weight was upon his +arm. His laughter rose without any gradation to the pitch of a scream, +sank without gradation to a hoarse cry. "Why, she can walk! Can a dead +woman walk? See! See!" And suddenly he dropped his arm from her waist, +and stood aside from her, holding her hand in his. Instantly her +figure curved and broke. She swung round towards him upon the pivot of +his hand, and as she swung she stumbled and fell. Charnock caught her +before she reached the ground, lifted her up, strained her to his +breast, and held her so. One deep sob broke from him, shook him, and +left him trembling. He carried Miranda to a couch, and there gently +laid her down. Gently he divided her hair back from her temples and +her face; he crossed her hands upon her breast, watched her for a +second as she lay, her dress soiled with the dust of his journeyings; +and then he dropped on his knees by the couch, and with a set white +face, with his eyelids shut tight upon his eyes, in a low, even voice +he steadily blasphemed. + +Some time later a hand was laid upon his shoulder and a strange voice +bade him rise. He stood up and looked at the stranger with a dazed +expression like one who comes out of the dark into a lighted room. +Warriner also was in the room. Charnock caught a word here and there; +the stranger was speaking to him; Charnock gathered that the stranger +was a doctor, and that Warriner had fetched him. + +"But she's dead," said Charnock, resentfully. "Why trouble her? she's +dead." And looking down to Miranda, he saw that there was a faint +flush of pink upon her cheeks, where all had been white before. "But +you said she was dead," he said stupidly to Warriner, and as the +doctor bent over her, it broke in upon him that she was in truth +alive, that she had but swooned, and the shame of what he had done +came home to him. "I was mad," he said, "I was mad." + +"Go," said the doctor, "both of you." + +"I can stay," said Warriner. "This is Mrs. Warriner; I am her husband, +Ralph Warriner." The doctor looked up sharply. Warriner simply nodded +his head. "Yes, yes," he said; "and this is Charnock. _Ce bon_ +Charnock. You see, he loves my wife." + +Warriner spoke slowly and in an inexpressive voice, as though he too +was hardly aware of what he said. The conviction that Miranda was dead +had come with equal force to both of these two men, and the knowledge +that she was not brought an equal stupefaction. Warriner remained in +the room; Charnock went outside and down the stairs. + +He came to his senses in the streets of Gibraltar, and looking +backwards, seemed to himself to have lost them weeks ago somewhere +between Mequinez and Alkasar, in a profitless rivalry for a woman who +could not belong to him. In the present revulsion of his feelings he +was conscious that he had lost all his enmity towards Warriner. He +walked down to the landing-stage at the Mole. The Levanter had spent +its force during the night; the sea had gone down; a steamer was +dropping its anchor in the bay. Charnock was in two minds whether or +no to cross the harbour to Algeciras, where Warriner and himself had +left their traps the day before, gather together his belongings, and +sail for England in that steamer. He had done all that he had been +enjoined to do; he had brought Warriner back; he had even, as he had +promised, paid the one last visit to Miranda. But,--but, he might be +wanted, he pleaded to himself, and so undecided he wandered about the +streets, and in the afternoon came back to the hotel. + +The waiter was watching for his return. Mrs. Warriner wished to speak +with him. There was no sign of Warriner. Charnock mounted the stairs. +There was no sign of Warriner within the sitting-room. Miranda was +alone, and from the frank unembarrassed way with which she held out +her hand, Charnock understood that she knew nothing of what had passed +in the morning. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + RELATES A SECOND MEETING BETWEEN CHARNOCK + AND MIRANDA + + +"I Was afraid you had gone without my thanks," she said; "and thanks +are the only coin I have to pay you with." + +"Surely there needs no payment." + +"I should have thanked you this morning; but your return overcame me, +I had hoped and prayed so much for it." + +The scream of the P. and O.'s steam-whistle sounded through the room. +They both turned instinctively to the window, they saw the last late +boat-load reach the ship's side, and in a moment or so they heard the +rattle of the anchor-chain. + +"And Ralph?" asked Charnock. + +Miranda pointed to the steamer. Already the white fan of water +streamed away from its stern. + +"He has sailed?" + +"Yes. He could not stay here. His--" she paused for a second and then +spoke the word boldly, "his crime was hushed up, but it is of course +known here to a few, and all know that there is something. He told his +name to the doctor. It was not safe for him to stay over this +morning." + +"He has gone to England?" + +"Yes, but he will leave England immediately. He promised to write to +me, so that I may know where he is." + +More of Warriner's interview with his wife, neither Charnock nor +anyone ever knew. Whether he asked her to come with him and she +refused, or whether, once he saw her and had speech with her, his +fictitious passion died as quickly as it had grown--these are matters +which Miranda kept locked within her secret memories. At this time +indeed such questions did not at all occur to Charnock. As he watched +the great steamer heading out of the bay, and understood that he must +be taking the same path, he was filled with a great pity for the +lonely woman at his side. The thought of her home up there in the +Spanish hills and of her solitary, discontented companion came to him +with a new and poignant sadness. Ronda was no longer a fitting shrine +for her as his first fancies had styled it, but simply a strange place +in a strange country. + +"Why don't you go home to your own place, to your own people?" he +suggested rather than asked. + +Miranda was silent for a while. "I have thought of it," she said at +length; "I think too that I shall. At first, there was the disgrace, +there was the pity--I could not have endured it; besides, there was +Rupert. But--but--I think I shall." + +"I should," said Charnock, decidedly. "I should be glad, too, to know +that you had made up your mind to that. I should be very glad to think +that you were back at your own home." + +"Why?" she asked, a little surprised at his earnestness. + +"Of course, I wasn't born to it," he replied disconnectedly; "but now +and then I have stayed at manor-houses in the country; and such visits +have always left an impression on me. I would have liked myself to +have been born of the soil on which I lived, to have lived where my +fathers and grandfathers lived and walked and laughed and suffered, in +the same rooms, under the same trees, enjoying the associations which +they made. Do you know, I don't think that that is a privilege lightly +to be foregone." And for a while again they both were silent. + +Then Miranda turned suddenly and frankly towards him: "I should like +so much to show you my home." She had said much the same on that first +evening of their meeting in Lady Donnisthorpe's balcony, as they both +surely remembered. + +"I should like much to see it," returned Charnock, gently; "but I am a +busy man." Miranda coloured at the conventional excuse, as Charnock +saw. "But it was kind of you to say that. I was glad to hear it," he +added. + +It was not to the addition she replied, but to his first excuse. "As +it is, you have lost two years. I have made you lose them." + +"Please!" he exclaimed. "You won't let that trouble you. Promise me! I +am a young man; it would be a strange thing if I could not give two +years to you. Believe me, Mrs. Warriner, when my time comes, and I +turn my face to the wall, whatever may happen between now and then, I +shall count those two years as the years for which I have most reason +to be thankful." + +Miranda turned abruptly away from him and looked out of the window +with intense curiosity at nothing whatever. Then she said in a low +voice: "I hope that's true; I hope you mean it; I believe you do. I +have been much troubled by an old theory of yours, that a woman was a +brake on the wheel going up hill, and a whip in the driver's hand +going down." + +"I will give you a new theory to replace the old," he answered. "There +are always things to do, you know. Suppose that a man has cared for a +woman, has set her always within his vision, has always worked for +her, for a long while, and has at last come surely, against his will, +to know that she was ... despicable, why then, perhaps he might have +reason to be disheartened. But otherwise--well, he has things to do +and memories to quicken him in the doing of them." + +"Thank you," she said simply. "I think what you say is true. I once +met a man who found a woman to be despicable, and the world went very +ill with him." + +It was of Major Wilbraham she was thinking, who had more than once +written to Miranda during these two years, and whose last letter she +imagined to be lying then in a drawer of her writing-table at Ronda. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + A MIST IN THE CHANNEL ENDS, AS IT BEGAN, + THE BOOK + + +But that letter was in Ralph Warriner's pocket, as he walked the deck +of the P. and O. It was dated from a hotel at Dartmouth, whence, said +the Major, he was starting on a little cruise westwards in the company +of a young gentleman from Oxford who owned a competence and a yacht. +The Major would be back at Dartmouth in some six weeks' time and +hoped, for Mrs. Warriner's sake, that he would find a registered +letter awaiting him. The Major was still upon his cruise, as Ralph +Warriner was assured from the recent date of the letter. + +Warriner disembarked at Plymouth and took train to Dartmouth, where he +learned the name of the yacht by merely asking at the hotel. He tried +to hire a steam launch, for sooner or later in one of the harbours he +would be sure to come up with Wilbraham, if he only kept a sharp eye; +but steam launches are difficult to hire at this season of the year, +and in the end he had to content himself with chartering a ten-ton +cutter. He engaged one hand, by whose testimony the history of Ralph's +pursuit came to be known, and sailed out of Dartmouth to the west. He +sailed out in the morning, and coming to Salcombe ran over the bar on +the tail of the flood, but did not find his quarry there, and so beat +out again on the first of the ebb and reached past Bolt Head and Bolt +Tail, across Bigbury Bay with its low red rocks, to Plymouth. +Wilbraham had anchored in the Cattwater only two days before; the +yacht was a yawl, named the _Monitor_; and was making for the +Scillies. Warriner laughed when he picked up word about the +destination of the yacht, and thought it would be very appropriate if +he could overhaul the _Monitor_ somewhere off Rosevear. As to what +course he intended to pursue when he caught Wilbraham, he had no +settled plan; but on the other hand he had a new revolver in his +berth. + +He put out from Plymouth under a light breeze, which failed him +altogether when he was abreast of Rame Head. Through the rest of the +day he drifted with the tide betwixt Rame Head and Plymouth. The night +came upon him jewelled with stars, and a light mist upon the surface +of the water; all that night he swung up and down some four miles out +to sea within view of Plymouth lights, but towards morning, a fitful +wind sprang up, drove the cutter as far as Polperro, and left it +becalmed on a sea of glass, in front of the little white village in +the wooded cliff-hollow, while the sun rose. Warriner opened the +narrow line of blue water which marks the mouth of the Fowey river at +eleven o'clock of the morning, and anchored in Fowey harbour about +twelve. It was a Sunday, and though the _Monitor_ was not at Fowey, +Warriner determined to stay at his anchorage till the morrow. + +The Brixham fisherman who served him upon this cruise relates that +Warriner displayed no impatience or anxiety at any time. Of the +febrile instability which had set his thoughts flying this way and +that during the days of his companionship with Charnock, there was no +longer any trace in his demeanour. Perhaps it was that he was so +certain of attaining his desires; perhaps the long lesson of endurance +which he had been painfully taught in Morocco now bore its fruit; +perhaps too he had acquired something of the passive fatalism of the +Moorish race. During this Sunday afternoon, his last Sunday as it +proved, he quietly sculled the dinghy of his cutter, when the tide was +low, through the mud flats of the Fowey river to Lostwithiel; and +coming down again when the river was full, lay for a long time upon +his oars opposite a certain church that lifts above a clump of trees +on the river-bank. There he remained listening to the roll of the +organ and the sweet voices of the singers as they floated out through +the painted windows into the quiet of the summer evening; when the +service was over he bent to his sculls again and rowed back between +the steep and narrowing coppices, but it was dark before he turned the +last shoulder of hill and saw the long lines of riding-lights +trembling upon the water. + +Warriner raised his anchor early on the Monday morning, and having the +wind on his quarter, made Falmouth betimes. At Falmouth he learned +that the _Monitor_ had put out past St. Anthony's light only the day +before and had sailed westwards to Penzance. + +Warriner followed without delay, and when he was just past the Manacle +rocks, the wind dropped. With the help of the tide and an occasional +flaw of wind, he worked his cutter round the Lizard Point and laid her +head for Penzance across the bay; and it was then that the fog took +him. It crept out of the sea at about four of the afternoon, a thin +grey mist, and it thickened into a dense umber fog. + +The fog hung upon the Channel for thirty hours. The cutter swung into +the bay with the tide. The Brixham fisherman could hear all along, to +his right hand, the muffled roar as the groundswell broke upon the +Lizard rocks, and the sucking withdrawal which told that those rocks +were very near. The Lizard fog-horn, which sounded a minute ago +abreast of them, sounded now quite faintly astern. The boat swung with +the tide and would not steer; yet Warriner betrayed no alarm and no +impatience at the check. He sat on the deck with a lantern by his side +and drew, said the fisherman, a little flute or pipe from his pocket, +on which he played tunes that were no tunes, and from which he drew a +weird shrill music of an infinite melancholy and of infinite +suggestions. Once the Brixham man crouched suddenly by the gunwale and +peered intently over the boat's side. At a little distance off, +something black loomed through the fog about the height of the mast's +yard,--something black which rapidly approached. + +"It's not a squall," said Warriner, quietly interrupting his music. +"It's a rock. I know this coast well. We had better get the dinghy out +and row her head off." + +When that was done, he squatted again upon the deck by the side of the +lantern, and played shrilly upon his pipe while the light threw a +grotesque reflection of his figure upon the fog. + +After a while they heard the Lizard-horn abreast of them again. + +"The tide has turned," said Warriner, and the Brixham man dived +hurriedly into the well for the poor fog-horn which the boat carried. +The cutter drifted out stern-foremost past the Lizard rocks, and in a +little, from this side and from that, ahead of them, astern, they +heard the throb of engines and the hoarse steam-whistles of the +Atlantic cargo-boats and liners. They had drifted across the track of +the ocean-going steamers. The Brixham man blew upon his horn till his +lungs cracked. He relates that nothing happened until three o'clock in +the morning, as he knows, since Warriner just at three o'clock took +his watch from his pocket and looked at the dial by the lantern-light. +He mentions too, as a detail which struck him at the time, that the +door of the lantern was open, and so still was the heavy air that the +candle burnt steadily as in a room. At three o'clock in the morning he +suddenly saw a glimmering flash of white upon the cutter's beam. For a +fraction of a second he was dazed. Then he lifted the horn to his +mouth, and he was still lifting it--so small an interval was there of +time--when a huge sharp wedge cut through the fog and towered above +the cutter out of sight. The wedge was the bows of an Atlantic liner. +No one on that liner heard the despairing, interrupted moan of the +tiny fog-horn beneath the ship's forefoot; no one felt the shock. The +Brixham man was hurled clear of the steamer, and after swimming for +the best part of an hour was picked up by a smack which he came upon +by chance. Warriner's body was washed up three days later upon the +Lizard rocks. + +This history did not reach Charnock's ears for a full year afterwards; +for within a week of his arrival in London, where his unexplained +disappearance had puzzled very few, since he was known for a man of +many disappearances, he had started off to Asia Minor, there to survey +the line of a projected railway. The railway was never more than +projected, and after a year the survey was abandoned. Charnock +returned to London and heard the story of Warriner's death from Lady +Donnisthorpe's lips at her last reception at the end of the season. +Lady Donnisthorpe was irritated at the impassive face with which he +listened. She was yet more irritated when he said casually, without +any reference whatever to a word of her narrative, "Who is that girl? +I think I have seen her before." + +Lady Donnisthorpe followed the direction of his eyes, and saw a young +girl with very pale gold hair. Lady Donnisthorpe rose from her chair. +"Perhaps you would like me to introduce you," she said with sarcastic +asperity. + +"I should," replied Charnock. + +Lady Donnisthorpe waved her hands helplessly and brushed away all +mankind. She led Charnock across the room, introduced him, and left +him with a manner of extreme coldness, to which Charnock at this +moment was quite impervious. + +"I think I have seen you here before," said Charnock. + +"Yes," said the girl, "I remember. It was some while since. Why have +you quarrelled?" + +The meaning of that question dawned upon Charnock gradually. The girl +with the gold hair smiled at his perplexity, and laughed pleasantly at +his comprehension. + +Charnock looked round the room. + +"No," said she. + +He looked towards the window, and the window was open. + +"Yes," said the girl. + +Charnock found Miranda upon the balcony. + + + + THE END. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miranda of the Balcony, by +A. E. W. 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