Carmen Ariza Part 192

Out in the sunlight once more, Hitt sought to remove the stains from his clothes, meanwhile bidding Don Jorge attend well to his words.

"You swim, eh?"

"Yes."

"Then do you come to the beach to-night to bathe, down across from the yacht. And, listen well: you would do much for the little Carmen, no?

And for your friend Jose? Very good. You will swim out to the yacht at seven to-night, with your clothes in a bundle on your head, eh? And, Don Jorge--but we will discuss that later. Now you go back to the city alone. I have much to do. And, note this, you have not seen me."

Meantime, to the group of politicians, soldiers, and clergy a.s.sembled in the long audience room of the departmental offices to debate the terms of the peace protocol, news of the arrival of the _Cossack_ was brought by a slow-moving messenger from the dock. At the abrupt announcement the acting-Bishop was seen to start from his chair. Was the master himself on board? _Quien sabe?_ And, if so--but, impossible! He would have advised his faithful co-laborer of his coming. And yet, what were those strange rumors which had trickled over the wires, and which, in his absorption in the local issues, and in the excitement attendant upon the restoration of peace and the settlement of the multifold claims of innumerable greedy politicians, he had all but forgotten? A thousand suggestions flashed through his mind, any one of which might account for the presence of the _Cossack_ in Cartagena's harbor that day. But extreme caution must be observed until he might ascertain its errand. He therefore despatched a message to the yacht, expressing his great surprise and pleasure, and bidding its master meet him at a convenient hour in his study in the Cathedral. This done, he bent anew to the work before him, yet with his thought harried by doubt, suspicion, and torturing curiosity.

Wenceslas soon received a reply to his message. The master was aboard, but unable to go ash.o.r.e. The acting-Bishop would therefore come to him at once.

Wenceslas hesitated, and his brow furrowed. He knew he was called upon to render his reckoning to the great financier who had furnished the sinews of war. But he must have time to consider thoroughly his own advantage, for well he understood that he was summoned to match his own keen wits with those of a master mind.

And then there flashed through his thought the reports which had circled the world but three short weeks before. The man of wealth had found his daughter; and she was the girl for whom the two Americans had outwitted him four years ago! And the girl--Simiti--and--ah, Rincon! Good! He laughed outright. He would meet the financier--but not until the morrow, at noon, for, he would allege, the unantic.i.p.ated arrival of Ames had found this day completely occupied. So he again despatched his wondering messenger to the _Cossack_. And that messenger was rowed out to the quiet yacht in the same boat with the tall American, whose clothes were torn and caked with mud, and in whose eyes there glowed a fierce determination.

That night the sky was overcast. The harbingers of the wet season had already arrived. At two in the morning the rain came, descending in a torrent. In the midst of it a light skiff, rocking dangerously on the swelling sea, rounded a corner of San Fernando and crept like a shadow along the dull gray wall. The sentry above had taken shelter from the driving rain. The ancient fort lay heavily shrouded in gloom.

At one of the narrow, grated windows which were set just above the water's surface the skiff hung, and a long form arose from its depths and grasped the iron bars. A moment later the gleam of an electric lantern flashed into the blackness within. It fell upon a rough bench, standing in foul, slime-covered water. Upon the bench sat the huddled form of a man.

Then another dark shape rose in the skiff. Another pair of hands laid hold on the iron bars. And behind those great, calloused hands stretched thick arms, with the strength of an ox. An iron lever was inserted between the bars. The heavy breathing and the low sounds of the straining were drowned by the tropic storm. The prisoner leaped from the bench and stood ankle-deep in the water, straining his eyes upward.

The light flashed again into his face. His heart pounded wildly. His throbbing ears caught the splash of a knotted rope falling into the water at his feet. Above the noise of the rain he thought he heard a groaning, creaking sound. Those rusted, storm-eaten bars in the blackness above must be slowly yielding to an awful pressure. He turned and dragged the slime-covered bench to the window, and stood upon it. Then he grasped the rope with a strength born anew of hope and excitement, and pulled himself upward. The hands from without seized him; and slowly, painfully, his emaciated body was crushed through the narrow s.p.a.ce between the bent bars.

Cartagena awoke to experience another thrill. And then the ripple of excitement gave place to anger. The rabble had lost one of its victims, and that one the chief. Moreover, the presence of that graceful yacht, sleeping so quietly out there in the sunlit harbor, could not but be a.s.sociated with that most daring deed of the preceding night, which had given liberty to the excommunicated priest and political malefactor, Jose de Rincon. Crowds of chattering, gesticulating citizens gathered along the harbor sh.o.r.es, and loudly voiced their disappointment and threats. But the boat lay like a thing asleep. Not even a wisp of smoke rose from its yellow funnels.

Then came the Alcalde, and the Departmental Governor, grave and sedate, with their aids and secretaries, their books and doc.u.ments, their mandates and red-sealed processes, and were rowed out to confront the master whom they believed to have dared to thwart the hand of justice and remain to taunt them with his egregious presence.

This should be made an international episode, whose ramifications would wind down through years to come, and embrace long, stupid congressional debates, apologies demanded, huge sums to salve a wounded nation, and the making and breaking of politicians too numerous to mention!

But the giant who received them, bound to his chair, in the splendid library of the palatial yacht, and with no attendant, save a single valet, flared out in a towering rage at the gross insult offered him and his great country in these black charges. He had come on a peaceful errand; partly, too, for reasons of health. And he was at that moment awaiting a visit from His Grace. What manner of reception was this, that Cartagena extended to an influential representative of the powerful States of the North!

"But," the discomfited Indignation Committee gasped, "what of the tall American who was seen to land the day before?"

The master laughed in their faces. He? Why, but a poor, obsessed archaeologist, now prowling around the ruins of San Felipe, doubtless mumbling childishly as he prods the dust and mold of centuries! Go, visit him, if they would be convinced!

And when these had gone, chagrined and mortified--though filled with wonder, for they had roamed the _Cossack_, and peered into its every nook and cranny, and stopped to look a second time at the fair-haired young boy who looked like a girl, and hovered close to the master--came His Grace, Wenceslas. He came alone, and with a sneer curling his imperious lips. And his calm, arrogant eyes held a meaning that boded no good to the man who sat in his wheel chair, alone, and could not rise to welcome him.

"A very pretty trick, my powerful friend," said the angered churchman in his perfect English. "And one that will cause your Government at Washington some--"

"Enough!" interrupted Ames in a steady voice. "I sent for you yesterday, intending to ask you to release the man. I had terms then which would have advantaged you greatly. You were afraid to see me until you had evolved your plans of opposition. Only a fixed and devilish hatred, nourished by you against a harmless priest who possessed your secrets, doomed him to die to-day. But we will pa.s.s that for the present. I have here my demands for the aid I have furnished you. You may look them over." He held out some typewritten sheets to Wenceslas.

The churchman glanced hastily over them; then handed them back with a smile.

"With certain modifications," he said smoothly. "The terms on which peace is concluded will scarcely admit of--"

"Very well," returned Ames quietly. "And now, La Libertad?"

Wenceslas laughed. "_En manos muertas_, my friend," he replied. "It was your own idea."

"And the emerald concession?"

"Impossible! A government monopoly, you know," said His Grace easily.

"You see, my friend, it is a costly matter to effect the escape of state prisoners. As things stand now, your little trick of last night quite protects me. For, first you instruct me, long ago, to place the weak little Jose in San Fernando; and I obey. Then you suffer a change of heart, and slip down here to release the man, who has become a state prisoner. That quite removes you from any claims upon us for a share of the spoils of war. I take it, you do not wish to risk exposure of your part in this four years' carnage?"

Ames drew a sigh. Then he pulled himself together. "Wenceslas," he said, "I am not the man with whom you dealt in these matters. He is dead. I have but one thing more to say, and that is that I renounce all claims upon you and your Government, excepting one. La Libertad mine was owned by the Rincon family. It was rediscovered by old Rosendo, and the t.i.tle transferred to his foster-daughter. Its possession must remain with her and her a.s.sociates. There is no record, so you have informed me, to the effect that the Church possesses this mine."

"But, my friend, there shall be such a record to-day," laughed Wenceslas. "And, in your present situation, you will hardly care to contest it."

Ames smiled. He now had the information which he had been seeking. The t.i.tle to the famous mine lay still with the Simiti company. He pressed the call-b.u.t.ton attached to his chair. The door opened, and Don Jorge entered, leading the erstwhile little newsboy, Jose de Rincon, by the hand.

Wenceslas gasped, and staggered back. He knew not the man; but the boy was a familiar figure.

Don Jorge advanced straight to him. Their faces almost touched.

"Your Grace, were you married to the woman by whom you had this son?"

Don Jorge's steady words fell upon the churchman's ears like a sentence of death.

"I ask," continued the dark-faced man, "because I learned last night that the lad's mother was my daughter, the little Maria."

"_Santa Virgen!_"

"Yes, Your Grace, a sainted virgin, despoiled by a devil! And the man who gave me this information--would you like to know? _Bien_, it was Padre Jose de Rincon, in whose arms she died, you lecherous dog!"

Wenceslas paled, and his brow grew moist. He stared at the boy, and then at the strong man whom he had so foully wronged.

"If you have concluded your talk with Senor Ames," continued Don Jorge, "we will go ash.o.r.e--you and the lad and I."

Wenceslas's face brightened. Ash.o.r.e! Yes, by all means!

The trio turned and quietly left the room. Gaining the deck, Wenceslas found a skiff awaiting them, and two strong sailors at the oars. Don Jorge urged him on, and together they descended the ladder and entered the boat. A few moments later they landed at the pier, and the skiff turned back to the yacht.

As to just what followed, accounts vary. There were some who remembered seeing His Grace pa.s.s through the narrow streets with a dark-skinned, powerful man, whose hand grasped that of the young newsboy. There were others who said that they saw the boy leave them at the Cathedral, and the two men turn and enter. Still others said they saw the heavy-set man come out alone. But there was only one who discovered the body of Wenceslas, crumpled up in a hideous heap upon the floor of his study, with a poignard driven clean through his heart. That man was the old s.e.xton, who fled screaming from the awful sight late that afternoon.

Again Cartagena shook with excitement, and seethed with mystery. Had the escaped prisoner, Rincon, returned to commit this awful deed?

There were those who said he had. For the dark-skinned man who had entered the Cathedral with His Grace was seen again on the streets and in the wine shops that afternoon, and had been marked by some mounting the broken incline of San Felipe.

Again the Governor and Alcalde and their numerous suite paid a visit to the master on board the _Cossack_. But they learned only that His Grace had gone ash.o.r.e long before he met his fearful death. And so the Governor returned to the city, and was driven to San Felipe. But his only reward was the sight of the obsessed archaeologist, mud-stained and absorbed, prying about the old ruins, and uttering little cries of delight at new discoveries of crumbling pa.s.sageways and caving rooms.

And so there was nothing for the disturbed town to do but settle down and ponder the strange case.

A week later smoke was seen again pouring out of the _Cossack's_ funnels. That same day the Governor and Alcalde and their suites were bidden to a farewell banquet on board the luxurious yacht. Far into the night they sat over their rare wines and rich food, drinking deep healths to the _entente cordial_ which existed between the little republic of the South and the great one of the North. And while they drank and sang and listened enraptured to the wonderful pipe-organ, a little boat put out from the dark, tangled shrubbery along the sh.o.r.e.

And when it rubbed against the yacht, a m.u.f.fled figure mounted the ladder which hung in the shadows, and hastened through the rear hatchway and down into the depths of the boat. Then, long after midnight, the last farewell being said by the dizzy officials, and the echoes of _Adios_, _adios_, _amigos_! lingering among its tall spars, the _Cossack_ slipped noiselessly out of the Boca Chica, and set its course for New York.

A few hours later, while the boat sped swiftly through the phosph.o.r.escent waves, the escaped prisoner, Jose de Rincon, who had lain for a week hidden in the bowels of old fort San Felipe, stood alone in the wonderful smoking room of the _Cossack_, and looked up at the sweet face pictured in the stained-gla.s.s window above. And then he turned quickly, for the door opened and a girl entered. A rush, a cry of joy, and his arms closed about the fair vision that had sat by his side constantly during the four long years of his imprisonment.

"Carmen!"

"My Jose!"