Part 5 (2/2)

From what I've heard about the country somebody else would probably lay hands on them again. Since the Frenchman has broken them in they'd be desirable property.”

”That's one of the things I'm worrying over,” said Ormsgill reflectively. ”I had thought of running them up the coast and turning them loose in British Nigeria. They'd be reasonably well treated, and get wages at the factories there. Still, I'd have some trouble in getting them out of the country, especially as I'm not greatly tempted to buy the boys. If I was it's quite likely that Domingo, who is not a friend of mine, wouldn't let me have them. You see, I'd have to get papers at the port, though there are plenty of lonely beaches where one could get a surf-boat off. I had a notion of trying to pick up a schooner at Sierra Leone or Lagos.”

Again Desmond said nothing for a few moments. Then he laughed. ”Well,”

he said, ”there's the _Palestrina_, and when we shake her up she can do her fourteen knots. You can have her for a shooting expedition at a pound a month. Now don't raise any--nonsensical objections. I'm about sick of loafing. The thing would be a relief to me.”

”There's your father,” said Ormsgill suggestively.

”Just so! There's also the whole estimable family, who have made up their minds I'm to go into Parliament whether I'm willing or not.

Well, it seems to me that if I'm to have a hand in governing my country it will be an education to see how they mismanage things in other ones.”

Then the scion of a political family who could talk like a fireman, and frequently did so, laughed again. ”If I get into trouble over it it will be a big advertis.e.m.e.nt. Besides, it's two years since I had a frolic of any kind. Been nursing the const.i.tuency, taking a benevolent interest in everything from women's rights to village cricket clubs, and I'm coming with you to rake up brimstone now. After all, though I've had no opportunity of displaying my abilities in that direction lately, it's one of the few things I really excel in.”

Ormsgill was far from sure that this was what he desired, but he knew his man, and that, for all his apparent inconsequence, he was one who when the pinch came could be relied upon. Then Desmond's effervescence usually vanished, and gave place to a cold determined quietness that had carried him through a good many difficulties. This was fortunate, since he was addicted to involving himself in them rather frequently.

”Well,” said Ormsgill, ”I'll be glad to have you, but it's rather a big thing. I think they're expecting you at the hotel. We'll talk of it again.”

He rose, and as they went back together Desmond said reflectively. ”I suppose you understand that it's scarcely likely your prospective mother-in-law will be pleased with you?”

”I wasn't aware that you knew her until you came across her here,”

said Ormsgill.

”I didn't. My cousins do. Perhaps you won't mind my saying that they seem a little sorry for you. From what they have said about Mrs.

Ratcliffe it seems to me that you may have trouble in convincing her of the disinterestedness of your intentions.”

Ormsgill felt that this was very probable, though he said nothing.

CHAPTER V

A DETERMINED MAN

It was the following afternoon when Ormsgill stood on the wide veranda outside Mrs. Ratcliffe's room. That lady sat somewhat stiffly facing him in a big basket chair, while her daughter lay close by in one of canvas with her eyes also fixed upon the man languidly. She was dressed in white, and looked very cool and dainty, though her face was almost expressionless. In fact, her att.i.tude was characterized by a certain well-bred serenity which is seldom without its effect when it is an essential part of the person who exhibits it, though a pa.s.sable imitation of it may be cultivated.

Then one sometimes wonders what may lie behind it, though an attempt to ascertain is not always advisable. In some cases there is nothing, and in others things which it is wiser to leave unseen.

Ormsgill had, as it happened, been busy that morning with an English lawyer whom he had met at the hotel, and had taken him over to the office of the Vice-Consul, who signed a doc.u.ment the lawyer drew out.

He had also made other preparations for a journey, but he had sent the priest no word that he was going back to Africa. This, he felt, was not necessary, since Father Tiebout would expect him. He leaned bareheaded against the rails, with the furrows showing plainly on his bronzed face, while the Trade breeze, which was fresh that afternoon, swept the cool veranda and piled the long Atlantic swell rumbling on the beach. He could see the spray fly high and white, and the dust whirl down the glaring road that led to the Spanish city, and once more he felt his blood stir in harmony with the throb of restless life in the frothing sea. Still, the task before him was difficult, and he set about it diffidently.

It was, as he realized, a very lame story and one open to serious misconception that fell from his lips. He could, of course, say nothing in favor of Lamartine's mode of life, though it was by no means an unusual one, and he had to mention it. The subject was a somewhat delicate one in itself, but it was not that alone which brought a faint flush to his face. Mrs. Ratcliffe's pose grew perceptibly primmer as he proceeded, and he recognized that any confidence she might have had in him was being severely shaken. Still, he had not expected her to understand, and he glanced at her daughter with a certain anxiety. The girl's languid indifference was less marked now, for there was a spot of color in her cheek, and her lips were set disdainfully. Ormsgill closed one lean hand a trifle, for these things had their significance, and he had expected that she, at least, would have found his a.s.surance sufficient.

”I think you will agree with me that I must go,” he said.

Mrs. Ratcliffe's tone was sharp and she looked at him steadily.

”I'm afraid I don't,” she said. ”The man was on your own showing an altogether depraved person.”

<script>