Part 42 (1/2)

”Well?” he said laconically.

Aylmer was silent. His glance traveled over Landon's head to examine the war vessel as it pa.s.sed.

The captain grunted something in an undertone. Landon laughed, and held up the first and fourth fingers of his right hand horn-wise.

”The good Luigi advises me to avert the evil eye,” he explained. ”Does that glance of yours threaten us, my affectionate cousin, does it?”

Aylmer sat back upon the boom and looked at the other squarely. The child scrambled from his shoulder and went back along the deck to stand at Muhammed's knee. But the Moor, after a quick, welcoming smile, showed no further recognition of his presence. His glance, the glances, indeed, of all on board, centered in the meeting of the two who eyed each other across the slant of Signor Luigi's tiller.

Aylmer made a motion of his head towards Miller.

”You sent this man to bargain with me?” he said.

”No,” said Landon. ”I sent him to tell you my terms.”

He laughed; he looked Aylmer insolently in the face and laughed again.

”The thick-headedness of you is what amuses me,” he said. ”The cra.s.s incapability of understanding your own case. Order, respectability, good feeling, as you call it--these have been propping you all your life. You don't understand--how should you?--what it is to be in the hands of a man who gives not a jot for any one of them.” He snapped his fingers.

”Not that!” he added. ”For honor, standing, the esteem of my fellows I give nothing--nothing!”

”And yet chaffer to obtain them,” said Aylmer, drily.

”I don't chaffer; I take,” said Landon. ”I am requiring them as mere stage properties necessary to the carrying out of my other purposes.

Intrinsically they have no value for me.”

”Unfortunately for you, you have neither the weapons to win them nor the means to buy them,” said Aylmer.

”Haven't I?” said Landon, slowly. ”Haven't I?” He rose from his seat and came a pace or two nearer. ”Listen to me, you--you blazing fool!” he snarled. ”I have you here to break, as I will. See that you don't goad me into doing it, for the mere pleasure of seeing you squirm. You give me your promise to accept me, push me forward, vouch for me, in the rotten mob you call society, or, by G.o.d, you'll be sorry before I've done with you!”

Aylmer still stared relentlessly into the other's eyes.

”You haven't a thing that'll touch me--not a single thing!” he said. ”My life? Do you think that has a value for me above the hope of clearing you from a decent family's path--into the gutter!”

Landon went white with pa.s.sion. His fingers worked.

”By the Lord!” he said, and his eyes shot menacing lightnings towards Miller, not towards his cousin; ”by the Lord, am I to keep my hands off him--after that?”

There was a sort of appeal in the question. There was malignance, there was red anger, but there was entreaty, the cry of a slave to a master.

Claire recognized it; so did Aylmer, with amazement.

They both looked at the gray man.

Miller's gesture was all humility, all dejection.

”Don't exasperate him, Captain Aylmer,” he pleaded. ”He has weapons; he has, indeed!”

Landon laughed malevolently.