Part 20 (1/2)

Domingo had a good deal to say, and framed it cunningly, playing upon the dislike of the white men that was in those who heard him, but as Ormsgill noticed, it was the old man of lighter color he chiefly watched. The latter sat silent and motionless, regarding him with expressionless eyes, until he ceased, and Ormsgill realized that if it depended upon the opinion of the a.s.sembly Domingo had won his case.

Still, though he was by no means sure what he would do, he was, at least, determined it should not depend on that, and there was a trace of grimness in his smile when Nares turned to him.

”I'm afraid it has gone against us,” he said.

”Against me, you mean,” said Ormsgill dryly.

”No,” and Nares's gesture was expressive, ”what I said stands without the correction.”

Before Ormsgill could answer, the old man made a sign, and there was no mistaking his tone of authority.

”Bring the boys,” he said.

They were led in some minutes later, eight of them, and three or four ran towards Ormsgill with eager cries. He waved them back, and there was silence for a moment or two until the old man rose up slowly with a curious smile in his eyes.

”It seems that this man has not beaten them too often,” he said. ”You have seen that they would sooner be his men than Domingo's. Let one of them speak.”

One of them did so, and what he said bore out some, at least, of Ormsgill's a.s.sertions. Then the grave figure in the plain white robe raised a hand, and there was a sudden silence of attention.

”After all,” he said, ”this is my village, and it is by my permission your Headman rules here. Now, this stranger has told us a thing which appears impossible. We have not heard anything like it from a white man before, but when a man would deceive you he is careful to tell you what you can believe.”

There was a little murmur which suggested that the listeners grasped the point of this, and the old man went on.

”I know that Lamartine was an honest man, for I have bought trade goods from him. They were what I bought them for, and I got the weight and count in full. Lamartine was honest, and it is likely that this man is honest, too, or he would not have been his friend.”

He stopped a moment, and smiled a trifle dryly. ”Now, we know that Domingo is a thief, for he has often cheated you, and it is certain that he is a friend of the white men. I have told you at other times that you are fools to trade with him. If a man is in debt or has done some wrong you part with him for this trader's goods. The rum is drunk, the cloth wears out, but the man lives on, and every day's work he does on the white men's plantations makes them richer and stronger. As they grow richer they grow greedier, and by and by they will not be satisfied with a man or two from among you. You will have made them strong enough to take you all. That, however, is not the question in the meanwhile. I think it may have happened, as this stranger says, that Domingo stole these boys from Lamartine, but even in that case there is a difficulty. The boys are with him, and in this country what a man holds in his hand is his. Perhaps the white man will offer him goods for them. I do not think he would ask too much, at least, if he is wise.”

He looked at Ormsgill, who shook his head.

”Not a piece of cloth or a bottle of gin,” he said.

There was a little murmur of resentment from the a.s.sembly, but Ormsgill saw that his boldness had the effect he had expected upon the man whose suggestion he had disregarded, and he had not acted inadvisedly when he dismissed all idea of compromise. Domingo had influential friends in that village, while, save for the handful of carriers, he and his companion stood alone. He also knew that if misfortune befell them no troublesome questions would be asked by the authorities. The whole enterprise was in one sense a folly, and that being so it was only by a continuance of the rashness he could expect to carry it through. Half measures were, as he realized, generally useless, and often perilous, in an affair of the kind, for there are occasions when one must face disastrous failure or bid boldly for success. Nares also seemed to recognize that fact, for he smiled as he turned to his companion.

”I think you were right,” he said.

Then the Headman said something to his Suzerain who made a sign that the audience was over.

”It is a thing that must be talked over,” he announced. ”We shall, perhaps, know what must be done to-morrow.”

Ormsgill acknowledged his gesture, swinging off his shapeless hat, and then led his boys away to the hut one of the Headman's servants pointed out to him. It was old, and had apparently been built for a person of importance for, though this was more usual further east among the dusky Moslem, there was a tall mud wall about it, and a smaller building probably intended for the occupation of the women inside the latter. It was dusty and empty save for the rats and certain great spiders, and during the rest of the hot afternoon Ormsgill sat with Nares in the little enclosed s.p.a.ce under the lengthening shadow of the wall. The boys had curled themselves up amidst the dust and quietly gone to sleep.

There was nothing they could see but the ridge of forest beyond the huts, and though now and then a clamor of voices reached them from outside, it supplied them with no clue to what was going on. Ormsgill smoked his pipe out several times before he said anything, and then he glanced at the wall meditatively.

”It seems thick, and there's only one entrance,” he observed. ”I almost fancy we could hold the place, though I don't antic.i.p.ate the necessity. Still, Domingo, who does a good trade here, has a certain following, and it might be an advantage if I knew a little more about our friends' affair. Their Suzerain seems to have some notion of fair play. I wonder what he is doing here.”

”I have been asking myself the same question,” said Nares. ”It seems to me these folks have been a little slack in recognizing his authority, and he has been making them a visitation. In one respect they're somewhat unfortunately fixed. The Portuguese consider they belong to them though they have made no attempt to occupy the country, and it's a little rough on the Headman who has to keep the peace with both.”

Ormsgill made a little gesture of concurrence. ”No doubt you're correct. The question is who the Headman would sooner not offend, and it's rather an important one because we are somewhat awkwardly circ.u.mstanced if it's the Portuguese. Our friend from the Interior naturally doesn't like them, but it's uncertain how far we could count on him, and Dom Luiz will probably turn up to-morrow night or the next day, and then there would be fresh complications.”

”In that case we should never get the boys.”

The lines grew a trifle deeper in Ormsgill's forehead, but he smiled.