Part 15 (1/2)

”Captain Carroll,” said Prince, without moving, but drawing his lips tightly together and putting his head on one side, ”I don't propose to have another scene like the one we had at our last meeting. If you try on anything of that kind, I shall put the whole matter into a lawyer's hands. I don't say that you won't regret it; I don't say that I sha'nt be disappointed, too, for I have been managing this thing purely as a matter of business, with a view to profiting by it. It so happens that we can both work to the same end, even if our motives are not the same.

I don't call myself an officer and a gentleman, but I reckon I've run this affair about as delicately as the best of them, and with a d----d sight more horse sense. I want this thing hushed up and compromised, to get some control of the property again, and to prevent it depreciating, as it would, in litigation; you want it hushed up for the sake of the girl and your future mother-in-law. I don't know anything about your laws of honor, but I've laid my cards on the table for you to see, without asking what you've got in your hand. You can play the game or leave the board, as you choose.” He turned and walked to the window--not without leaving on Carroll's mind a certain sense of firmness, truthfulness, and sincerity which commanded his respect.

”I withdraw any remark that might have seemed to reflect on your business integrity, Mr. Prince,” said Carroll, quietly. ”I am willing to admit that you have managed this thing better than I could, and, if I join you in an act to suppress these revelations, I have no right to judge of your intentions. What do you propose to have me do?”

”To state the whole case to Mrs. Saltonstall, and to ask her to acknowledge the young man's legal claim without litigation.”

”But how do you know that she would not do this without--excuse me--without intimidation?”

”I only reckon that a woman clever enough to get hold of a million, would be clever enough to keep it--against others.”

”I hope to show you are mistaken. But where is this heir?”

”Here.”

”Here?”

”Yes. For the last six months he has been my private secretary. I know what you are thinking of, Captain Carroll. You would consider it indelicate--eh? Well, that's just where we differ. By this means I have kept everything in my own hands--prevented him from getting into the hands of outsiders--and I intend to dispose of just as much of the facts to him as may be necessary for him to prove his t.i.tle. What bargain I make with HIM--is my affair.”

”Does he suspect the murder?”

”No. I did not think it necessary for his good or mine. He can be an ugly devil if he likes, and although there wasn't much love lost between him and the old man, it wouldn't pay to have any revenge mixed up with business. He knows nothing of it. It was only by accident that, looking after his movements while he was here, I ran across the tracks of the murderer.”

”But what has kept him from making known his claim to the Saltonstalls?

Are you sure he has not?” said Carroll, with a sudden thought that it might account for Maruja's strangeness.

”Positive. He's too proud to make a claim unless he could thoroughly prove it, and only a month ago he made me promise to keep it dark.

He's too lazy to trouble himself about it much anyway--as far as I can see. D----d if I don't think his being a tramp has made him lose his taste for everything! Don't worry yourself about HIM. He isn't likely to make confidences with the Saltonstalls, for he don't like 'em, and never went there but once. Instinctively or not, the widow didn't cotton to him; and I fancy Miss Maruja has some old grudge against him for that fan business on the road. She isn't a girl to forgive or forget anything, as I happen to know,” he added, with an uneasy laugh.

Carroll was too preoccupied with the danger that seemed to threaten his friends from this surly pretender to resent Prince's tactless allusion.

He was thinking of Maruja's ominous agitation at his presence at Dr.

West's grave. ”Do they suspect him at all?”--he asked, hurriedly.

”How should they? He goes by the name of Guest--which was his father's real name until changed by an act of legislation when he first came here. n.o.body remembers it. We only found it out from his papers. It was quite legal, as all his property was acquired under the name of West.”

Carroll rose and b.u.t.toned his overcoat. ”I presume you are able to offer conclusive proofs of everything you have a.s.serted?”

”Perfectly.”

”I am going to the Mision Perdida now,” said Captain Carroll, quietly.

”To-morrow I will bring you the answer--Peace or War.” He walked to the door, lifted his hand to his cap, with a brief military salutation, and disappeared.

CHAPTER XI

As Captain Carroll urged his horse along the miry road to La Mision Perdida, he was struck with certain changes in the landscape before him other than those wrought by the winter rains. There were the usual deep gullies and trenches, half-filled with water, in the fields and along the road, but there were ominous embankments and ridges of freshly turned soil, and a scattered fringe of timbers following a cruel, undeviating furrow on the broad grazing lands of the Mision.

But it was not until he had crossed the arroyo that he felt the full extent of the late improvements. A quick rumbling in the distance, a light flash of steam above the willow copse, that drifted across the field on his right, and he knew that the railroad was already in operation. Captain Carroll reined in his frightened charger, and pa.s.sed his hand across his brow with a dazed sense of loss. He had been gone only four months--yet he already felt strange and forgotten.

It was with a feeling of relief that he at last turned from the high-road into the lane. Here everything was unchanged, except that the ditches were more thickly strewn with the sodden leaves of fringing oaks and sycamores. Giving his horse to a servant in the court-yard, he did not enter the patio, but, crossing the lawn, stepped upon the long veranda. The rain was dripping from its eaves and striking a minute spray from the vines that clung to its columns; his footfall awoke a hollow echo as he pa.s.sed, as if the outer sh.e.l.l of the house were deserted; the formal yews and hemlocks that in summer had relieved the dazzling glare of six months' suns.h.i.+ne had now taken gloomy possession of the garden, and the evening shadows, thickened by rain, seemed to lie in wait at every corner. The servant, who had, with old-fas.h.i.+oned courtesy, placed the keys and the ”disposition” of that wing of the house at his service, said that Dona Maria would wait upon him in the salon before dinner. Knowing the difficulty of breaking the usual rigid etiquette, and trusting to the happy intervention of Maruja--though here, again, custom debarred him from asking for her--he allowed the servant to remove his wet overcoat, and followed him to the stately and solemn chamber prepared for him. The silence and gloom of the great house, so grateful and impressive in the ardent summer, began to weigh upon him under this shadow of an overcast sky. He walked to the window and gazed out on the cloister-like veranda. A melancholy willow at an angle of the stables seemed to be wringing its hands in the rising wind. He turned for relief to the dim fire that flickered like a votive taper in the vault-like hearth, and drew a chair towards it. In spite of the impatience and preoccupation of a lover, he found himself again and again recurring to the story he had just heard, until the vengeful spirit of the murdered Doctor seemed to darken and possess the house. He was striving to shake off the feeling, when his attention was attracted to stealthy footsteps in the pa.s.sage. Could it be Maruja? He rose to his feet, with his eye upon the door. The footsteps ceased--it remained closed. But another door, which had escaped his attention in the darkened corner, slowly swung on its hinges, and, with a stealthy step, Pereo, the mayordomo, entered the room.