The Coast of Adventure Part 18

Grahame smiled carelessly.

"Inquisitiveness becomes a habit with fellows like Gomez, and I dare say it's needful. The cafes in these ports are full of political refugees and intriguers."

Seeing Macallister in the hall below, Grahame went down to him and told him what he had learned.

"Weel," said the engineer, dryly, "after that present o' _anisado_ to the men, I'm thinking it would no' be desirable that ye should meet Senor Gomez. For a' that, I would not have him disappointed, and I'll daunder along to the lounge."

"It would be almost as bad if he saw you."

Macallister chuckled.

"He'll have hard work to recognize me afterward. Come away to the hat-rack."

Grahame followed him, feeling puzzled but suspecting that his comrade had some ingenious plan. Seeing n.o.body about, Macallister borrowed one or two articles from the rack; but neither he nor Grahame noticed that Miss Cliffe watched the proceedings with interest from a shadowy pa.s.sage.

Shortly afterward, Gomez entered the lounge and saw only one person there, but this individual's appearance surprised him. As the light was not good, he strolled toward the drowsy gentleman who lay negligently in a big chair with a newspaper dangling from his hand. He wore a soft hat, pulled down upon his forehead as if to shade his eyes, and a loose dark cloak hung over his shoulder. He looked like a Cuban and although Gomez noticed that his nails were short and broken, this might be accounted for by his having something to do with sugar-making machinery.

"Perhaps you are not using the _diario_?" Gomez said.

The man did not look up, but held out the paper with a drowsy grunt.

Gomez was too clever to make a poor excuse for starting a conversation with a man who obviously did not wish to be disturbed, and, taking the paper, he moved away. After a few minutes he put it down and strolled out of the room. When he had gone, Macallister left by another door, and, replacing the things he had borrowed, rejoined Grahame in the _patio_.

"It worked," he said, chuckling. "If Senor Gomez was on our track, he's weel off it noo. But it's fortunate we sail the morn."

"He mustn't meet Don Martin," Grahame answered thoughtfully. "I'll go to his room and warn him."

He found that Sarmiento was out, and none of the hotel servants knew where he had gone. Grahame felt disturbed by this; but there was nothing he could do.

CHAPTER XIII

THE EMERALD RING

Grahame went in to dinner feeling anxious. Sarmiento had not returned, but he would probably come in before the meal was over, and Gomez was sitting by Cliffe near the head of the table. Blanca sat opposite Walthew, and Grahame found a place next to Evelyn, who had not joined Cliffe because she disliked Gomez. Though his manners were polished, there was something sinister about him, a hint of craft and cruelty, and she did not approve of his a.s.sociation with her father.

"Have you met the gentleman yonder?" she asked Grahame.

"Senor Gomez? I know who he is, but have not spoken to him."

"That's curious, because he has been looking at you as if he were interested."

This confirmed Grahame's suspicion, and he felt uneasy. He did not want Gomez to study him, and he would not have come in to dinner only that he must warn Sarmiento. If he and his friends were to succeed in their undertaking, their connection with Don Martin must remain unknown; for it would not be difficult to catch them landing arms should their object be suspected. He wondered where Macallister was, for the engineer could be trusted in an emergency, and presently he saw him coming in. There was no vacant place near Grahame, and Macallister sat down some distance off.

"You may have been mistaken, Miss Cliffe," Grahame suggested. "Somehow, I imagine that Gomez is not a favorite of yours."

"That's true, though I hardly know him," she answered with a smile. "One is now and then seized by a quick prejudice, and I think the reason I mentioned the man was because I wanted your opinion."

"Did you think it worth having?"

"I can't judge. Perhaps I really wanted to be agreed with. When you have no good ground for making up your mind about a thing, it's pleasant to find your conclusions confirmed."

"Well, I believe you can trust your feelings. Gomez can't be a nice man if all one hears is true. But what turned you against him--the dash of dark blood?"

"No, not altogether. I felt repelled, as one feels repelled by a snake or a toad."

Grahame made a sign of understanding. There was, he thought, something very refined in the girl's character; an instinctive fastidiousness. She walked in the light and shrank from all that lurked in the shadow. It was her inner self that had recoiled from the swarthy politician and reason had nothing to do with the matter.

"Your father seems to be on good terms with the fellow," he remarked.

"Yes; it puzzles me. However, I suppose he is forced to deal with all kinds of people----"

She paused, and Grahame changed the subject. He might have obtained some information by judicious questions, but he could not take advantage of the girl's frankness by leading her to reveal anything she knew about her father's affairs. This would taint their friendship, which he valued.

After a time, she looked at him with a twinkle of amus.e.m.e.nt.

"I watched a little comedy shortly before dinner."

"Did you?" said Grahame. "Comedies are not unusual when one knows how to look for them, but they don't catch everybody's eye."

"This one was rather obvious; I mean the transformation of a staid Scottish engineer into a Cuban sugar-planter of convivial habits."

"Mack isn't really staid. It looks as if you didn't quite understand the Scottish character. Under its surface sobriety one's apt to find a very reckless humor. I'm a Borderer, and rather proud of it, you know. But how did the beginning of the first act strike you?"

"It seized my interest. The plot was not unusual; confused ident.i.ty is a favorite theme, but I noticed some histrionic cleverness. The rake of the _sombrero_ and the hang of the big cloak were good. They carried a hint of mild dissipation; one recognizes artistic talent in these light touches."

Grahame laughed.

"I'm not sure it was all art; experience may have had something to do with it. Mack's not an ascetic."

"But how did the play go off?"

"It was a success, I think."

"In one act?"

"No," said Grahame thoughtfully. "I imagine it isn't played out yet, and the other acts may not be in so light a vein."

"As you didn't expect an audience, perhaps I'd better promise not to talk about your play. You may have felt some diffidence about asking that."

"Thank you," said Grahame quietly. "You're very quick."

Evelyn smiled. There was something about the man which appealed to her.

Perhaps it was the mystery that seemed to shroud him and the _Enchantress_. She noticed now that he was casting furtive glances about the dining-room.

As a matter of fact, Grahame was worried about Don Martin. The flowers, plates of fruit, and tall wine carafes obstructed his view, but he could see that Sarmiento had not come in. Gomez was talking to Cliffe, but his eyes wandered about the table. For a moment they rested on Blanca, and Grahame felt angry, as if the fellow's glance were an insult to the girl. Then it was fixed observantly upon himself, and he hid his antagonism.