Part 4 (1/2)
With his hands clinched behind him, and tossing his white beard from side to side, the Consul paced the room.
”So that is it!” he muttered. ”_That_ is why he left Paris. That explains the _Restaurador_. Of course,” he added indignantly as he pa.s.sed Roddy, throwing the words at him over his shoulder, ”_that_ is where the money came from!”
Roddy, now thoroughly exasperated, protested warmly: ”Look here,” he cried, ”if you aren't careful you'll tell me something you don't want me to know.”
The Consul came to an instant pause. From his great height he stood staring at his visitor, the placid depths of his blue eyes glowering with doubt and excitement.
”I give you my word,” continued Roddy sulkily, ”I don't know what you are talking about.”
”Do you mean to tell me,” demanded the old man truculently, ”that you are _not_ Mr. Forrester's son?”
”Certainly I am his son,” cried Roddy.
”Then,” returned the Consul, ”perhaps you will deny he is suing Alvarez for two million dollars gold, you will deny that he might get it if Alvarez were thrown out, you will deny that a--a certain person might ratify the concession, and pay your father for the harbor improvements he has already made? You see!” exclaimed the Consul triumphantly. ”And these missing boxes!” he cried as though following up an advantage, ”shall I tell you what is in them?” He lowered his voice. ”Cartridges and rifles! Do you deny it?”
Roddy found that at last he was on firm ground.
”Of course I deny it,” he answered, ”because there are no boxes.
They're only an invention of mine to get me to Curacao. Now, you let _me_ talk.”
The Consul retreated behind his desk, and as Roddy spoke regarded him sternly and with open suspicion. In concluding his story Roddy said: ”We have no other object in saving General Rojas than that he's an old man, that he's dying, and that Peter and I can't sleep of nights for thinking of him lying in a damp cell, not three hundred yards from us, coughing himself to death.”
At the words the eyes of the Consul closed quickly; he pressed his great, tanned, freckled fingers nervously against his lip. But instantly the stern look of the cross-examiner returned. ”Go on,” he commanded.
”If we have cut in on some one's private wire,” continued Roddy, ”it's an accident; and when you talk about father recovering two million dollars you are telling me things I don't know. Father is not a chatty person. He has often said to me that the only safe time to talk of what you are doing, or are going to do, is when you have done it. So, if the Venezuelan government owes the Forrester Construction Company two millions and father's making a fight for it, I am probably the last person in the world he would talk to about it. All I know is that he pays me twenty dollars a week to plant buoys. But out of working hours I can do as I please, and my friend and I please to get General Rojas out of prison.” Roddy rose, smiling pleasantly. ”So, if you won't introduce me to Senora Rojas,” he concluded, ”I guess I will have to introduce myself.”
With an angry gesture the Consul motioned him to be seated. From his manner it was evident that Captain Codman was uncertain whether Roddy was or was not to be believed, that, in his perplexity, he was fearful of saying too much or too little.
”Either,” the old man exclaimed angrily, ”you are a very clever young man, or you are extremely ignorant. Either,” he went on with increasing indignation, ”they have sent you here to test me, or you know nothing, and you are blundering in where other men are doing work. If you know nothing you are going to upset the plans of those men. In any case I will have nothing further to do with you. I wash my hands of you. Good-morning.”
Then, as though excusing himself, he added sharply, ”Besides, you talk too much.”
Roddy, deeply hurt, answered with equal asperity:
”That is what your parrot thinks. Maybe you are both wrong.”
When Roddy had reached the top of the stairs leading to the street, and was on the point of disappearing, the Consul called sharply to him and followed into the hall.
”Before you go,” the old man whispered earnestly, ”I want you clearly to understand my position toward the Rojas family. When I was Consul in Porto Cabello, General Rojas became the best friend I had. Since I have been stationed here it has been my privilege to be of service to his wife. His daughters treat me as kindly as though I were their own grandfather. No man on earth could wish General Rojas free as much as I wish it.” The voice of Captain Codman trembled. For an instant his face, as though swept with sudden pain, twisted in strange lines. ”No one,” he protested, ”could wish to serve him as I do, but I warn you if you go on with this you will land in prison yourself, and you will bring General Rojas to his death. Take my advice--and go back to Porto Cabello, and keep out of politics. Or, what is better--go home. You are too young to understand the Venezuelans, and, if you stay here, you are going to make trouble for many people. For your father, and for--for many people.”
As though with the hope of finally dissuading Roddy, he added ominously, ”And these Venezuelans have a nasty trick of sticking a knife----”
”Oh, you go to the devil!” retorted Roddy.
As he ran down the dark stairs and out into the glaring street he heard faintly the voice of the parrot pursuing him, with mocking and triumphant jeers.
The Consul returned slowly to his office, and, sinking into his chair, buried his face in his great, knotty hands and bent his head upon the table. A ray of suns.h.i.+ne, filtering through the heavy Venetian blinds, touched the white hair and turned it into silver.
For a short s.p.a.ce, save for the scratching of the parrot at the tin bars of his cage, and the steady drip, drip of the water-jar, there was no sound; then the voice of the sea-captain, as many times before it had been raised in thanksgiving in the meeting-house in Fairhaven, and from the deck of his s.h.i.+p as she drifted under the Southern Cross, was lifted in entreaty. The blue eyes, as the old man raised them, were wet; his bronzed fists fiercely interlocked.
”Oh, Thou,” he prayed, ”who walked beside me on the waters, make clear to me what I am to do. I am old, but I pray Thee to let me live to see Thine enemies perish, to see those who love Thee reunited once more, happy, at home. If, in Thy wisdom, even as Thou sent forth David against Goliath, Thou hast sent this child against Thine enemies, make that clear to me. His speech is foolish, but his heart seems filled with pity. What he would do, I would do. But the way is very dark. If I serve this boy, may I serve Thee? Teach me!”
Outside the Consulate, Roddy found his convoy, the guide, waiting for him, and, to allay the suspicion of that person, gave him a cable to put on the wire for McKildrick. It read: ”No trace of freight; it may come next steamer; will wait.”