The Dust of Conflict Part 15

Appleby rose, and staggered as he placed his weight upon his injured foot, and then, while Harper laid a steadying hand on his shoulder, limped out into the carretera. It stretched away before them, white, and hot, and straight, with scarcely a flicker of shadow to relieve its blinding glare; and Appleby half closed his eyes, while the perspiration dripped from Harper's face.

"And it's quite often I've sworn I'd turn farmer and never go to sea again! Well, I guess there are more fools like me!"

Appleby had no observation to make, and they plodded on through a land of silence and intolerable heat. No Latin who can help it works at that hour of the afternoon, and peon and soldier alike lay where there was coolness and shadow wrapped in restful sleep. Only the two aliens crawled on with aching heads and dazzled eyes down the dusty road which rolled back interminably to their weary feet. The cane was no longer green to Appleby, but steeped in yellow glare, the dust gleamed incandescent white, and the sky seemed charged with an overwhelming radiancy.

Still, he limped on, dreaming, while each step cost him agony, of the brown woods at Northrop and the sheen of frost on the red brier leaves in the English lanes, for all that he had seen during that last eventful fortnight there flashed into his memory. He could recall the chill of the night air when he stood looking into the future from the face of the hill as he went to meet keeper Davidson; the sweep of velvet lawn, the song of the robin on the lime bough in the bracing cold of morning, and plainer than all the face of the woman he had made a promise to under the soft light in the conservatory. He did not know what that promise would cost him when he made it; but the woman had read his character, and was warranted in deciding that it would be kept.

No road, however, goes on interminably, and the white aldea of Arucas rose before them when the sun was low. They plodded into it, limping and stumbling over the slippery stones, and frightening the dark-eyed children with their grim faces; for there was a hum of life behind the lattices now, and a cooking of the comida in the patios and in front of the open doors. Harper sniffed hungrily-for the pungent odors of the dark green oil and garlic hung about the flat-topped houses-and finally halted before an archway leading into a shadowy patio. There was a legend above it.

"'The Golden Fleece'!" he said. "Well, they'll have some wine here, and I've got five pesetas."

They went in, and when they limped into the guest chamber a man dressed in unstarched linen stared at them aghast.

"Madre de Dios!" he said.

He would apparently have backed away in consternation had not Harper, who slipped between him and the door, stood with his back to it; while Appleby spoke two words softly in Castilian. They were without connection and apparently meaningless, but they carried weight with those who had any hand in the insurrection, and the landlord sat down, evidently irresolute.

"Would you ruin me? The Sin Verguenza are scattered, and Espada Morales is not far away," he said.

"Still," said Appleby dryly, "they are not dead, my friend, and it is only those who are buried that never come back again."

The innkeeper nodded, for the delicacy of the hint as well as the man's accent were thoroughly Castilian.

"Well," he said reflectively, "here one is ruined in any case, and what one gives to the friends of liberty Morales will not get. After all, it is but a handful of beans or an omelet, and it is golden onzas those others would have from me."

"If eggs are not too dear here we can pay," said Appleby, with a laugh, and turned to see that Harper was glancing at him reproachfully.

It was evident that the innkeeper saw him, too, for a little smile came into his eyes. "Then it is seldom so with the Sin Verguenza," he said.

"Doubtless your companion is one of them."

"Silver is scarce with the Sin Verguenza," said Appleby. "Still, there are debts they pay with lead."

The innkeeper set food before them-beans and oil, an omelet, and a bottle of thin red wine from the Canaries. He also somewhat reluctantly produced a few cigars of a most excellent tobacco; and Harper sighed with pure content when he dropped into a big raw-hide chair when the meal was over.

"Now I could 'most be happy if I knew when we would strike another place like this," he said. "Still, it's quite plain to me that we can't stay here. There are too many cazadores prowling up and down this carretera."

It was equally evident to Appleby, but, crippled as he was he could find no answer to the question how he was to drag himself any farther, and he lay still, considering the chances of their being given a hidden bed in a forage loft, until there was a great clatter on the stones outside.

Harper was on his feet in a moment, and sprang to the window grim in face, but once there he laughed.

"Only a carriage with a man and a woman in it," he said, "You let me do the talking if old yellow-face wants to turn us out of here. Anyway, if I go, what's left of the wine goes with me."

To make sure of this he slipped the bottle into his pocket, and turned discreetly when the landlord came in.

"By permission, gentlemen, I will show you another room," he said.

"This one will serve quite well," said Harper in Castilian.

The landlord concealed his impatience by a gesture of deprecation.

"Comes a rich American and a lady," he said. "These people are, it seems, fastidious, but they pay me well."

"An American," said Harper condescendingly. "Well, we are equal there in my country, and I do not object to his company. You can show him in."

It was too late for the innkeeper to expostulate, for a man in white duck and a girl in a long white dress came into the room, while Appleby set his lips when he recognized the latter. He was ragged, dirty, and unkempt, while one shoe was horribly crusted, and it was very much against his wishes to encounter Nettie Harding a second time in much the same condition. Harper, however, appeared in no way disconcerted, and stepped forward, a dilapidated scarecrow, with the bottle neck projecting suggestively from his pocket.

"Come right in, Mr. Harding," he said. "It's quite pleasant to meet a countryman in this forlorn land."

Harding smiled dryly, but his daughter turned to Appleby with a gleam of compa.s.sion in her eyes and held out her hand.

"We are very glad to meet you, Mr. Broughton," she said.

Appleby felt grateful for the tactful kindness which restrained any sign of astonishment, but Harding laughed.

"I never go back upon anything my daughter says, but I don't know that I'm sorry we shall not be honored with the company of any more of the Sin Verguenza," he said. "We have ordered comida, and should be pleased if you will sit down with us."

Appleby would have excused himself, but Harper broke in, "The Sin Verguenza have gone, and it's not going to worry me if they never come back again. As to the other question, I can generally find a use for a dinner, and if my company's any pleasure be glad to throw it in."

Appleby would have offered an explanation, but Harper silenced him by a gesture, and the landlord came in with the viands.

"Bring more plates. These gentlemen will eat with me," said Harding.

The landlord appeared astonished, and stared at Harper with bewildered incredulity, until Nettie Harding, who was quick-witted, laughed, and the bronze grew deeper in Appleby's cheeks. Harper, however, was by no means disconcerted.

"Well," he said naively, "out of compliment to your father I'll worry through another one. You see, it may be quite a long while before we get a meal again."

They sat down, and while Appleby said very little Harding talked tactfully of England and America, and made no allusion to anything that concerned Cuba. Harper seconded him ably, for there was, as usual with his countrymen, no diffidence in him; and Appleby wondered whether there was any reason for Miss Harding's curious little smile. Then when the fruit was removed Harding closed the door and took out his cigar case.

"Take a smoke. Miss Harding does not mind!" he said.

Appleby made excuses, but Harper laid the cigars the landlord had supplied them with on the table.

"You'll try one of these," he said. "I think they're good."

Harding lighted a cigar, and then it seemed to Appleby that a change came over his att.i.tude, though he also fancied that Miss Harding had expected it.

"They are," he said. "You got them cheap?"

There was no mistaking the significance of his tone, and Appleby straightened himself a trifle. Still, he felt he could not well rebuke the man whose dinner he had just eaten.

"Isn't that a little beyond the question, sir?" he asked quietly.

"I don't quite know that it is. I'm going to talk now, and it may save time and worry if I put it straight. What's the matter with the Sin Verguenza?"

"Busted!" said Harper. "Smashed up a company of cazadores, and lit out.

n.o.body's going to worry over them."

"Which is why you are here?"

"You've hit it right off," said Harper.