Part 22 (1/2)

Nares made a little gesture, for that was a very bitter moment, but his face was tranquil.

”It's a thing I was prepared for. We'll push on,” he said.

They stayed an hour or two in the village, and then started once more on their long journey to the coast. It was clear that they could afford no delay in reaching it, but there was no road to the Bahia Santiago, and day by day they floundered through swamp and forest under an intolerable heat, with garments rent to tatters, worn out, gasping now and then, but always pus.h.i.+ng on. They drank putrid water, and when provisions commenced to run out lived on a few daily handfuls of equally divided food. Nature was also against them, and barred their path with fallen trees and th.o.r.n.y creepers, and the march they made was a test of what man could bear. Still, there was no discord, and no negro raised his voice in protest. The boys recognized that haste was advisable, and they had confidence in the white man with the quiet lined face who marched at the head of them.

CHAPTER XVIII

DOM CLEMENTE LOOKS ON

A little breeze blew in between the slender pillars delightfully fresh and cool, and Dom Clemente Figuera, who had taken off his heavy kepi, lay in a cane chair with a smile in his half-closed eyes. The ten o'clock breakfast had just been cleared away, but two cups of bitter black coffee still stood upon the table beside a bundle of cigars and a flask of light red wine. He was, as he now and then laughingly admitted, usually in an excellent humor after breakfast, and one could have fancied just then that he had not a care in the world. There were, however, men who said that in the case of Dom Clemente tranquillity was not always a favorable sign.

Opposite him sat the trader Herrero, who was not quite so much at ease as he desired to be. His manners were usually characterized by a certain truculence, which as a rule served him well in the bush, but he had sense enough to realize that it was not likely to have much effect upon his companion. There was something about the little smiling gentleman in the immaculate white uniform on the other side of the table which would have made it difficult for one to adopt an aggressive att.i.tude towards him, even if he had not been one who held authority. Herrero had therefore laid a somewhat unusual restraint upon himself while he expressed his views, and now sat watching his companion anxiously. Dom Clemente lighted a cigar before he answered him.

”This Englishman,” he said, ”is apparently a turbulent person. I have just received a letter concerning him from the Chefe at San Roque, as you are, no doubt, aware.”

There was a question in his glance which Herrero could not ignore, though he would have liked to do so. He felt it was unfortunate that he did not know exactly what was in the letter.

”I addressed my complaint to the Chefe in the first case,” he said.

”Since Ormsgill is believed to have traveled towards the coast it was to be expected that Dom Erminio should communicate with you.”

”Exactly!” and Dom Clemente smiled. ”The complaint, it seems, is a double one. The Englishman Ormsgill has, I am informed, abducted a native girl who was in your company, but one can not quite understand how he has offended in this, since it appears that she was content to go with him. In one case only you have a remedy. If you have any record of a marriage with this woman the affair shall be looked into.”

”I have none,” and Herrero made a little gesture. ”There are, you understand, certain customs in the bush.”

Dom Clemente reproachfully shook his head. ”They are,” he said, ”not recognized by the law, and that being so your grievance against the Englishman is a purely personal one. It is no doubt exasperating that the woman should prefer him, and she is probably unwise in this, but it is not a matter that concerns any one else.”

”It is not alleged that she preferred him,” and the trader's face flushed a trifle.

”Still,” said his companion, ”she went with him. Now you do not wish to tell me that you had laid any restraint upon her to keep her with you, or that there was anything to warrant you doing so. For instance, you do not wish me to believe that you had bought her?”

Herrero did not, at least, consider it prudent. The law, as he was aware, did not countenance such transactions, and while he sat silent his companion smiled at him.

”Then,” he said, ”I am afraid I can only offer you my sympathy, and we will proceed to the next complaint. This Englishman, it is alleged, has also stolen certain boys from Domingo. Now the law allows a native to bind himself to labor for a specified time, and while the engagement lasts he is in a sense the property of the man he makes it with. The engagement, of course, can only be made in due form on the coast, but the man who brings the boys down and feeds them on the strength of their promise may be considered to have some claim on them. It seems to me that person was Domingo. Why did he not make the complaint himself?”

”He is busy, and it would necessitate a long journey. Besides, I have a share in his business ventures.”

”That,” said Dom Clemente reflectively, ”is a sufficient reason. This Domingo seems to be an enterprising man. One wonders if he has many business a.s.sociates up yonder.”

Again Herrero did not answer. He did not like the little shrewd smile in his companion's eyes, for, as he was aware, the only white men in the forests Domingo frequented were missionaries and administrators, who were, at least, not supposed to partic.i.p.ate in purely commercial ventures. He could not understand Dom Clemente at all, for it was very natural that it should not occur to him that he was an honest man, as well as an astute one who had been entrusted with a difficult task. He would, in fact, have been startled had he known what was in his companion's mind. Seeing he did not speak, Dom Clemente waved his hand.

”It seems,” he said, ”that Ormsgill will make for the coast with the boys in question, and you have come to warn me, partly because it is to your interest, and partly from the sense of duty. Well, with this knowledge in my possession it should be difficult for him to get them away.”

He stopped a moment, but Herrero saw nothing significant in the fact that he glanced languidly towards the _Palestrina_. She lay gleaming white like ivory on the glittering stretch of water he could see across the roofs of the city, and, as it happened, he was going off that evening to a function which Desmond, who had brought her in the day before, had arranged.

”Steps will be taken to intercept him when we have news of his whereabouts, and in the meanwhile I have another question,” he said.

”There is discontent up yonder among the bushmen?”

His manner was indifferent, but Herrero was on his guard. ”A little,”