Part 16 (1/2)
”Yes--I think so. Why not? Did you ever in your experience hit up against a man more likely to charm a young woman?”
”Will he keep his word and not try to make the running for another six months?”
”You're as green about love as I am; but even I can answer that. Of course he'll make the running. He can't help it. It doesn't need words.”
”The idea of another husband would be abominable to Mrs. Pendean for many years; and no Englishman worthy of the name would dare to intrude upon her sacred grief.”
”I don't know anything about that. I only know that whatever the amount of grief she feels, she's devilish interested in Giuseppe--and he's not an Englishman.”
They talked for the best part of an hour and Mark perceived that the old sailor was something of a fatalist. He had already concluded that his niece would presently wed again and with the Italian. Nor did the prospect do more than annoy Bendigo from the point of view of his own comfort. Brendon observed that Mr. Redmayne felt no personal objection or distrust. Jenny's uncle did not apparently antic.i.p.ate that she would live to regret such a second husband; while Mark, from a standpoint quite independent, honestly felt that one so volatile and strangely handsome might sooner or later cloud the young woman's life with tribulation. He knew the quality of his own love, but perceived the hopelessness at present of showing it in any way. For at this juncture there appeared no possibility of serving her. He was, however, a patient man and now summoned hope that in the future it might yet fall within his reach to be of vital use, even though it should never lie in her power to reward his devotion.
He knew himself and he knew that this strange and novel emotion of love was, at least in his case, a deep, omnipotent thing, beyond and above any selfish and purely personal desire for happiness. Even Doria admitted that much probably, though whether, did the test arise, he would put the woman's prosperity before his own pa.s.sion, Brendon took leave to doubt.
He retreated presently as the hour of one approached, but before doing so, returned to the subject of Robert Redmayne. The elder spoke the last word and left Mark in grave doubt as to what the immediate future might bring.
”If,” said Bendigo, ”my brother has any just excuse for what he did, or can convince me, for instance, that he took Pendean's life in order to save his own, then I stick by him and don't give him up while I can fight on his side. You'll tell me that I'll be in reach of the law myself if I do any such thing; but that won't frighten me. Blood's thicker than water when you come down to a job like this.”
It was a new att.i.tude, but the detective said nothing, and as a clock in the hall below beat the hour of one he returned to the cupboard and drew the door behind him. Bendigo had just lighted another pipe when there came the sound of feet ascending the stair; but it was no doubtful or cautious footfall that they heard. The ascending man neither hesitated nor made any effort to approach without noise. He came swiftly and as the sailor stood up calm and collected, to meet his brother--not Robert Redmayne but Giuseppe Doria appeared.
He was very agitated and his eyes shone. He breathed hard and wiped the hair away from his forehead. He had evidently been out in the rain, for water glistened on his shoulders and face.
”Suffer me to drink,” he said. ”I have been frightened.”
Bendigo pushed the bottle and an empty tumbler across his table and the other sat down and helped himself.
”Be quick; what the devil's the matter? He'll be here in a minute--my brother.”
”No, he will not be here. I have seen and spoken with him--he's not coming to you.”
Doria helped himself very sparingly to some spirits; then he explained.
”I was going the rounds and just about to turn out the oil lamp over the front gate as usual when I remembered Mr. Redmayne. That is half an hour ago and I thought it would be better to leave the lamp, to guide him, for the night is dark and wild. I came down the ladder therefore; but I had already been seen. He was waiting under the shelter of the rocks on the other side of the road, where there is a pent roof of natural stone; and seeing me he remembered me and came and spoke a little. He was full of new fear and dread. He said that people had been hunting him and that even now men were hidden not far off to take him. I a.s.sured him it was not so and swore to him that you were alone and desired only to succour him. I used my best words and prayed him to come in swiftly and let me shut the outer gate and make it fast; but his suspicions grew; the fear of a hunted animal was in his eyes. He misunderstood me. Terror conquered him and what I had said, to make him feel safe, acted in the contrary way. He would not come within the gate but sent a message that you are to come to him instead, if you still will to save him. He is a very sick soul and will not last long. I saw death in his eyes under the lamplight.”
There was a pause while Bendigo slowly took in this change in the situation. Then he lifted his voice and spoke, not to Doria, but to the man in hiding.
”Come right out, Brendon,” he said. ”The game's up for to-night as you've heard. Doria has seen Bob, and he's frightened the poor beggar off apparently. Anyway he's not coming.”
Mark emerged and Giuseppe gazed in astonishment. His mind evidently ran backward and his face flushed with annoyance.
”Corpo di Bacco!” he swore. ”Then you heard my confidences. You are a sneak!”
”Stow that,” cried Bendigo. ”Brendon's here because I wished it for my brother's good. I wanted him to know what pa.s.sed--and your love affairs are neither here nor there. He'll not use anything he heard that don't concern his proper business. What did Robert say?”
But Doria was angry. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, looked first at Brendon and then at his master and breathed hard.
”Get on,” said Bendigo. ”Shall I go out to the man, or has he gone?”
”And as for me; don't think twice about it,” added Brendon. ”I'm here for one reason only, and that you know. You and your private hopes and ambitions have nothing to do with me.”
Upon this speech the Italian appeared to regain his composure.
”I am a servant for the moment and my duty is to Mr. Redmayne,” he answered. ”This is the message that I have been told to bring. The hunted man will not trust himself behind doors or under a roof, until he has seen his brother alone. He is hiding now near the place where Mrs. Pendean and I found him, in a cave beside the sea. It opens upon the water and it can be approached by boat. But there is a way also inside, that enables him to creep down into the cave from the cliffs behind it. He will be in this place until his brother comes, to-morrow night after twelve o'clock. But the way down from the land is hidden very carefully and he will not speak of that. You must go to him from the sea, my master. He thought it out while he spoke to me. He will light his lamp in the cave, and when the light is seen from the launch, you will put in and come to him. That is what he demands shall be done; and if anybody tries to land but only his brother, he will shoot them. So he swears, and he said also that when Bendigo Redmayne knows all, then he will forgive all and be on his side.”