The Double Four Part 28

Superior force must be obeyed."

"It is a matter, this," Sogrange said, "for discussion between my friend and me. I think you will find that we are neither of us unreasonable. In short, Prince, I see no insuperable reason why we should not come to terms."

"You encourage me," the Prince declared, in a gratified tone. "Do not believe, Marquis, that I am actuated in this matter wholly by motives of personal ambition. No, it is not so. A great desire has burned always in my heart, but it is not that alone which moves me. I a.s.sure you that of my certain knowledge Spain is honeycombed--is rotten with treason. A revolution is a certainty. How much better that that revolution should be conducted in a dignified manner; that I, with my reputation for democracy which I have carefully kept before the eyes of my people, should be elected President of the new Spanish Republic, even if it is the gold of the American who places me there. In a year or two's time, what may happen who can say? This craving for a republic is but a pa.s.sing dream. Spain, at heart, is monarchical. She will be led back to the light. It is but a short step from the President's chair to the throne."

Sogrange and his companion sat quite still. They avoided looking at each other.

"There is one thing more," the Prince continued, dropping his voice as if, even at that distance, he feared the man of whom he spoke. "I shall not inform the Count von Hern of our conversation. It is not necessary, and, between ourselves, the Count is jealous. He sends me message after message that I remain in my state-room, that I seek no interview with Sirdeller, that I watch only. He is too much of the spy--the Count von Hern. He does not understand that code of honour, relying upon which I open my heart to you."

"You have done your cause no harm," Sogrange a.s.sured him, with subtle sarcasm. "We come now to the d.u.c.h.esse."

The Prince leaned towards him. It was just at this moment that a steward entered with a marconigram, which he presented to the Prince. The latter tore it open, glanced it through, and gave vent to a little exclamation.

The fingers which held the missive, trembled. His eyes blazed with excitement. He was absolutely unable to control his feelings.

"My two friends," he cried, in a tone broken with emotion, "it is you first who shall hear the news! This message has just arrived. Sirdeller will have received its duplicate. The final report of the works in Havana Harbour will await us on our arrival in New York, but the substance of it is this. The _Maine_ was sunk by a torpedo, discharged at close quarters underneath her magazine. Gentlemen, the House of Asturias is ruined!"

There was a breathless silence.

"Your information is genuine?" Sogrange asked softly.

"Without a doubt," the Prince replied. "I have been expecting this message. I shall cable to von Hern. We are still in communication. He may not have heard."

"We were about to speak of the d.u.c.h.esse," Peter reminded him.

The Prince shook his head.

"Another time," he declared. "Another time."

He hurried away. It was already half-past ten and the saloon was almost empty. The steward came up to them.

"The saloon is being closed for the night, sir," he announced.

"Let us go on deck," Peter suggested.

They found their way up on to the windward side of the promenade, which was absolutely deserted. Far away in front of them now were the disappearing lights of the _Lusitania_. The wind roared by as the great steamer rose and fell on the black stretch of waters. Peter stood very near to his companion.

"Listen, Sogrange," he said, "the affair is clear now save for one thing."

"You mean Sirdeller's motives?"

"Not at all," Peter answered. "An hour ago I came across the explanation of these. The one thing I will tell you afterwards. Now listen.

Sirdeller came abroad last year for twelve months' travel. He took a great house in San Sebastian."

"Where did you hear this?" Sogrange asked.

"I read the story in the _New York Herald_," Peter continued. "It is grossly exaggerated, of course, but this is the substance of it.

Sirdeller and his suite were stopped upon the Spanish frontier and treated in an abominable fashion by the Customs officers. He was forced to pay a very large sum, unjustly, I should think. He paid under protest, appealed to the authorities, with no result. At San Sebastian he was robbed right and left, his privacy intruded upon. In short, he took a violent dislike and hatred to the country and everyone concerned in it. He moved with his entire suite to Nice, to the Golden Villa.

There he expressed himself freely concerning Spain and her Government.

Count von Hern heard of it and presented Marsine. The plot was, without doubt, Bernadine's. Can't you imagine how he would put it? 'A revolution,' he would tell Sirdeller, 'is imminent in Spain. Here is the new President of the Republic. Money is no more to you than water. You are a patriotic American. Have you forgotten that the finest warship your country ever built, with six hundred of her devoted citizens, was sent to the bottom by the treachery of one of this effete race? The war was an inefficient revenge. The country still flourishes. It is for you to avenge America. With money Marsine can establish a republic in Spain within twenty-four hours!' Sirdeller hesitates. He would point out that it had never been proved that the destruction of the _Maine_ was really due to Spanish treachery. It is the idea of a business man which followed. He, at his own expense, would raise the _Maine_. If it were true that the explosion occurred from outside, he would find the money.

You see, the message has arrived. After all these years, the sea has given up its secret. Marsine will return to Spain with an unlimited credit behind him. The House of Asturias will crumble up like a pack of cards."

Sogrange looked out into the darkness. Perhaps he saw in that great black gulf the pictures of these happenings, which his companion had prophesied. Perhaps, for a moment, he saw the panorama of a city in flames, the pa.s.sing of a great country under the thrall of these new ideas. At any rate, he turned abruptly away from the side of the vessel and, taking Peter's arm, walked slowly down the deck.

"You have solved the puzzle, Baron," he said, gravely. "Now tell me one thing. Your story seems to dovetail everywhere."

"The one thing," Peter said, "is connected with the d.u.c.h.esse. It was she, of her own will, who decided to come to America. I believe that but for her coming Bernadine and the Prince would have waited in their own country. Money can flash from America to England over the wires. It does not need to be fetched. They have still one fear. It is connected with the d.u.c.h.esse. Let me think."

They walked up and down the deck. The lights were extinguished one by one, except in the smoke-room. A strange breed of sailors from the lower deck came up, with mops and buckets. The wind changed its quarter and the great ship began to roll. Peter stopped abruptly.

"I find this motion most unpleasant," he said. "I am going to bed.

To-night I cannot think. To-morrow, I promise you, we will solve this.

Hush!"

He held out his hand and drew his companion back into the shadow of a lifeboat. A tall figure was approaching them along the deck. As he pa.s.sed the little ray of light thrown out from the smoking-room, the man's features were clearly visible. It was the Prince. He was walking like one absorbed in thought. His eyes were set like a sleep-walker's.

With one hand he gesticulated. The fingers of the other were twitching all the time. His head was lifted to the skies. There was something in his face which redeemed it from its disfiguring petulance.

"It is the man who dreams of power," Peter whispered. "It is one of the best moments, this. He forgets the vulgar means by which he intends to rise. He thinks only of himself, the dictator, king, perhaps emperor. He is of the breed of egoists."

Again and again the Prince pa.s.sed, manifestly unconscious even of his whereabouts. Peter and Sogrange crept away unseen to their state-rooms.

In many respects the room resembled a miniature court of justice. The princ.i.p.al sitting-room of the royal suite, which was the chief glory of the _Adriatic_, had been stripped of every superfluous article of furniture or embellishment. Curtains had been removed, all evidences of luxury disposed of. Temporarily the apartment had been transformed into a bare, cheerless place. Seated on a high chair, with his back to the wall, was Sirdeller. At his right hand was a small table, on which stood a gla.s.s of milk, a phial, a stethoscope. Behind, his doctor. At his left hand, a smooth-faced, silent young man--his secretary. Before him stood the d.u.c.h.esse, Peter and Sogrange. Guarding the door was one of the watchmen, who, from his great physique, might well have been a policeman out of livery. Sirdeller himself, in the clear light which streamed through the large window, seemed more aged and shrunken than ever. His eyes were deep-set. No tinge of colour was visible in his cheeks. His chin protruded, his s.h.a.ggy grey eyebrows gave him an unkempt appearance.

He wore a black velvet cap, a strangely cut black morning coat and trousers, felt slippers, and his hands were clasped upon a stout ash walking-stick. He eyed the new-comers keenly but without expression.

"The lady may sit," he said.

He spoke almost in an undertone, as though anxious to avoid the fatigue of words. The guardian of the door placed a chair, into which the d.u.c.h.esse subsided. Sirdeller held his right hand towards his doctor, who felt his pulse. All the time Sirdeller watched him, his lips a little parted, a world of hungry excitement in his eyes. The doctor closed his watch with a snap and whispered something in Sirdeller's ear, apparently rea.s.suring.

"I will hear this story," Sirdeller announced. "In two minutes every one must leave. If it takes longer it must remain unfinished."

Peter spoke up briskly.

"The story is this," he began. "You have promised to a.s.sist the Prince of Marsine to transform Spain into a republic, providing the salvage operations on the _Maine_ prove that that ship was destroyed from outside. The salvage operations have been conducted at your expense, and finished. It has been proved that the _Maine_ was destroyed by a mine or torpedo from the outside. Therefore, on the a.s.sumption that it was the treacherous deed of a Spaniard or Cuban imagining himself to be a patriot, you are prepared to carry out your undertaking and supply the Prince of Marsine with means to overthrow the kingdom of Spain."

Peter paused. The figure on the chair remained motionless. No flicker of intelligence or interest disturbed the calm of his features. It was a silence almost unnatural.

"I have brought the d.u.c.h.esse here," Peter continued, "to tell you the truth as to the _Maine_ disaster."

Not even then was there the slightest alteration in those ashen grey features.

The d.u.c.h.esse looked up. She had the air of one only too eager to speak and finish.

"In those days," she said, "I was the wife of a rich Cuban gentleman whose name I withhold. The American officers on board the _Maine_ used to visit at our house. My husband was jealous; perhaps he had cause."

The d.u.c.h.esse paused. Even though the light of tragedy and romance side by side seemed suddenly to creep into the room, Sirdeller listened as one come back from a dead world.

"One night," the d.u.c.h.esse went on, "my husband's suspicions were changed into knowledge. He came home unexpectedly. The American--the officer--I loved him--was there on the balcony with me. My husband said nothing.

The officer returned to his ship. That night my husband came into my room. He bent over my bed. 'It is not you,' he whispered, 'whom I shall destroy, for the pain of death is short. Anguish of mind may live.