Part 18 (1/2)

Dom Erminio made a little gesture which seemed to indicate that it was a matter of indifference to him, and Father Tiebout put a check on his impatience. He had, as it happened, been in the house at least a minute before any one had noticed him, and was anxious for reasons of his own to discover what was in the letter. He did not know what the messenger meant to do with it, but he was aware that those entrusted with authority in that country were frequently at variance and spied on one another. It was possible that the man who could not read the note might expect to sell it.

Still, the missionary was one who seldom spoiled anything by undue haste, and he reflected that while he had traveled in a hammock leisurely the man was probably worn by a long journey, since San Roque lay at some distance from the camp where the officer the Chefe had mentioned was stationed then. So he supplied his hosts with particulars concerning his complaint, and then talked of other matters for an hour or more, and it was not until the comida was laid out that he set out on his journey. This was a somewhat unusual course in the case of a guest who had a long march still in front of him, but although the messenger, who might also have been expected to spend the night there, had evinced the same desire to get on his way, it never occurred to Dom Erminio to put the two facts together. There are, however, other cunning men who now and then fail to see a very obvious thing.

Still, Father Tiebout did not go by the nearest way to San Thome, though he urged his hammock boys through the bush all night at their utmost speed. The path was smoothly trodden, and they had no great difficulty in following it through the drifting steam, while when the red sun leapt up and here and there a ray of brightness streamed down, they came upon a weary man who turned and stood still when he saw them. He made a little gesture of comprehension when the priest dropped from his hammock and looked at him.

Father Tiebout touched his shoulder and led him back a few paces into the bush. The man was big and muscular, as well as a pagan, but the priest had the letter when they came out again. He did not tell any one how he induced the messenger to part with it, but, as he now and then admitted, he was one who did not hesitate to use the means available. It was, in fact, a favorite expression of his, and, though he usually left the latter point an open question, in his case, at least, the results generally justified the means. He spoke a word or two sharply to the hammock boys, and they left the man sitting wearily beside the trail when they went on again.

It was three weeks later when the priest in charge of the San Thome Mission, who was a privileged person, sent on the letter to Dom Clemente Figuera by the hands of a Government messenger, but Father Tiebout, who requested him to do so, had made one or two other arrangements in connection with it in the meanwhile. Ormsgill, as he had once said, had a few good friends in Africa.

CHAPTER XV

NARES COUNTS THE COST

It was getting late and the night was very hot, but Nares was still busy in his palm-thatched hut. The creed he taught was not regarded with any great favor by the authorities, and, perhaps, was also by virtue of its very simplicity a little beyond the comprehension of the negro, who not unnaturally finds it a good deal easier to believe in a pantheon of mostly malevolent deities, but if his precepts produced no very visible result, there were, at least, many sick who flocked to him. It was significant that the door of his hut stood wide open, as it always did, though there were men in that forest who had little love for him. The priests of the heathen also practice the art of healing, and it is not in human nature to be very tolerant towards a rival who works without a fee.

He sat with the perspiration trickling down his worn face beside a little silver reading lamp, a gift from somebody in the land he came from. Now and then there was a faint stirring of the muggy air, and the light flickered a little, while the blue flame of a spirit lamp that burned beneath a test tube was deflected a trifle, but the weary man scarcely noticed it as he pored over a medical treatise. Nor did he notice the crackling that unseen creatures made in the thatch above his head, the steamy dampness that soaked his thin duck jacket, or the sickly smell of lilies that now and then flowed into the room.

He was too intent upon the symbols of certain equations, letters and figures, and crosses of materialistic significance, with the aid of which he could, at least, mitigate bodily suffering and fight disease.

They were always present, and it was a valiant fight he made in a land where the white man's courage melts and his faith grows dim.

At last there were voices and footsteps in the compound, which he heard but scarcely heeded, and he only looked up when a man stood in the doorway smiling at him.

”Ah,” he said, ”I scarcely expected to see you, Father. What has become of your hammock boys, and where have you sprung from?”

Father Tiebout waved his hand, and dropped into the nearest chair.

”The boys are already in the guest hut,” he said. ”I have come from San Roque, but not directly. In fact, I found it advisable to make a little detour.”

”In your case that is not a very unusual thing,” and Nares laughed.

”Still, you appear to get there, arrive, as you express it, at least as frequently as I do.”

The priest made a little gesture. ”When one finds a wall he can not get over across his path it is generally wiser to go round. Why should one waste his strength and bruise his hands endeavoring to tear it down? It may be a misfortune, but I think we were not all intended to be battering rams. The metaphor, however, is not a very excellent one, since it is in this case a lion that stands in the path of our friend Ormsgill. For a minute or two you will give me your attention.”

Nares listened with wrinkled forehead, leaning forward with both arms on the table, and then there was a faint twinkle in his eyes as he looked at his companion. It was, after all, not very astonis.h.i.+ng that he should smile, for he was accustomed to disconcerting news.

”I wonder if one could ask how you learned so much?” he said. ”It is scarcely likely that the Chefe or his Lieutenant would tell it you.”

”For one thing, I heard a few words that were not exactly meant for me; for another, I laid unauthorized hands upon a certain letter. One, as I have pointed out, must use the means available.”

”The results justify it--when he is successful, which is, no doubt, why you so seldom fail? Under the circ.u.mstances you can not afford to.

There may be something to say for that point of view, but our fathers were not so liberal in Geneva.”

Father Tiebout smiled good-humoredly. ”We will not discuss the point just now. The question is what must be done? We have a friend who will walk straight into the jaws of the lion unless--some one--warns him.”

”It is not impossible that he will do so then.”

The priest spread his hands out. ”Ah,” he said, ”how can one teach the men who delight in stone walls and lions a little sense? Still, perhaps, it would be a pity if one could. It is possible that folly was the greatest thing bestowed on them when they were sent into this world. That, however, is not quite the question.”

”It is--who shall go?” and Nares, who closed one hand, thrust his chair back noisily. ”There are you and I alone available, padre, and we know that the one of us who ventures to do this thing will be laid under the ban of Authority, openly proscribed or, at least, quietly thwarted here and there until he is driven from his work and out of the country. There are many ways in which those who hold power in these forests can trouble us.”