The Spanish Jade Part 9

Even, "Look here, you know, this won't do," failed to move him beyond a state of tension, like that of a cat in the act to pounce. He had found out that Manvers talked to himself, and was put about by interruptions; and if you realise how sure and certain he was that he knew much better than his master what was the very thing, or the last thing, he ought to do, you will see that he must have put considerable restraint upon himself.

But loyalty was his supreme virtue. From the moment Manvers had taken him on at two pesetas a day he became the perfect servant of a perfect master. He could have no doubt, naturally, of his ability to serve--his belief in himself never wavered; but he had none either in his gentleman's right to command. I believe if Manvers had desired him to cut off his right hand he would have complied with a smile. "Very good, master. You wanta my 'and? I do."

If he had a failing it was this: nothing on earth would induce him to talk his own language to his master. He was unmoved by encouragement, unconvinced by the fluency of Manvers' Castilian periods; he would have risked his place upon this one point of honour.

"Espanish no good, sir, for you an' me," he said once with an irresistible smile. "Too damsilly for you. Capitan Rodney, 'e teach, me Englisha speech. Now I know it too much. No, sir. You know what they say--them _filosofistas_?" he asked him on another encounter.

"They say, G.o.d Almighty 'e maka this world in Latin--ver' fine for thata big job. Whata come next? Adamo 'e love his lady in Espanish--esplendid for maka women love. That old Snaka 'e speak to 'er in French--that persuade 'er too much. Then Eva she esplain in Italian--ver' soft espeech. Adamo 'e say, That all righta. Then G.o.d Almighty ver' savage. 'E turn roun' on them two. 'E say, That be blowed, 'e say in English. They understan' 'im too much. Believe me--is the best for you an' me, sir. All people understan' that espeech."

Taken as a guide, he installed himself as body servant, silently, tactfully, but infallibly. Manvers caught him one morning putting boots by his door. "Hulloa, Gil Perez," he called out, "what are you doing with my boots?"

Gil's confidential manner was a thing to drink. "That _mozo_, master--'e fool. 'E no maka shine. I show him how Capitan Rodney lika 'is boots. See 'is a face in 'em." He smirked at his own as he spoke, and was so pleased that Manvers said no more.

The same night he stood behind his master's chair. Manvers contented himself by staring at him. Gil Perez smiled with his bright eyes and became exceedingly busy. Manvers continued to stare, and presently Gil Perez was observed to be sweating. The poor fellow was self-conscious for once in his life. Obliged to justify himself, he leaned to his master's ear.

"That _mozo_, sir, too much of a dam fool. Imposs' you estand 'im. I tell 'im, This gentleman no like garlic down his neck. I say, You breathe too 'ard, my fellow--too much garlic. This gentleman say, Crikey, what a stink! That no good."

There was no comparison between the new service and the old; and so it was throughout. Gil Perez drove out the chambermaid and made Manvers'

bed; he brushed his clothes as well as his boots, changed his linen for him, saw to the wash--in fine, he made himself indispensable. But when Manvers announced his coming departure, there was a short tussle, preceded by a pause for breath.

Gil Perez inquired of the sky, searched up the street, searched down.

A group of brown urchins hovered, as always, about the stranger, ready to risk any deadly sin for the chance of a maravedi or the stump of a cigar.

Gil s.n.a.t.c.hed at one by the bare shoulder and spoke him burning words.

"_Ca.n.a.lla_," he cried him, "horrible flea! Thou makest the air to reek--impossible to breathe. Fly, thou gnat of the midden, or I crack thee on my thumb."

The boys retired swearing, and Gil, with desperate calling-up of reserves, faced his ordeal. "Ver' good, master, we go when you like.

We see Escorial--fine place--see La Granja, come by Madrid thata way.

I get 'orses 'ow you please." Then he had an inspiration, and beamed all over his face. "Or mules! We 'ave mules. Mules cheap, 'orses dear too much in Segovia."

Manvers could see very well what he was driving at. "I think I'll take the _diligencia_, Gil Perez."

Gil shrugged. "'Ow you like, master. Fine air, thata way. Ver' cheap way to go. You take my advice, you go _coupe_. I go _redonda_ more cheap. Give me your pa.s.sport, master--I take our place."

"Yes, I know," said Manvers. "But I'm not sure that I need take you on with me. I travel without a servant mostly."

Gil grappled with his task. He dropped his air of a.s.sumption; his eyes glittered.

"I save you money, master. You find me good servant--make a difference, yes?"

"Oh, a great deal of difference," Manvers admitted. "I like you; you suit me excellently well, but----" He considered what he had to do in Madrid, and frowned over it. Manuela was there, and he wished to see Manuela. He had not calculated upon having a servant when he had promised himself another interview with her, and was not at all sure that he wanted one. On the other hand, Gil might be useful in a number of ways--and his discretion and tact were proved. While he hesitated, Gil Perez saw his opportunity and darted in.

"I know Madrid too much," he said. "All the ways, all the peoples I know. Imposs' you live 'appy in Madrid withouta me." He smiled all over his face--and when he did that he was irresistible. "You try," he concluded, just like a child.

Manvers, on an impulse, drew from his pocket the gold-set crucifix.

"Look at that, Gil Perez," he said, and put it in his hands.

Gil looked gravely at it, hack and front. He nodded his approval.

"Pretty thing----" and he decided off-hand. "In Valladolid they make."

"Open it," said Manvers; but it was opened, before he had spoken.

Gil's eyes widened, while the pupils of them contracted intensely. He read the inscription, pondered it; to the crucifix itself he gave but a momentary glance. Then he shut the case and handed it back to his master.

"I find 'er for you," he said soberly; and that settled it.

CHAPTER XII

A GLIMPSE OF MANUELA

Gil Perez had listened gravely to the tale which his master told him.

He nodded once or twice, and asked a few questions in the course of the narrative--questions of which Manvers could not immediately see the bearing. One was concerned with her appearance. Did she wear rings in her ears? He had to confess that he had not observed. Another was interjected when he described how she had grown stiff under his arm when Esteban drew alongside.

Gil had nodded rapidly, and became impatient as Manvers insisted on the fact. "Of course, of course!" he had said, and then he asked, Did she stiffen her arm and point the first and last fingers of it, keeping the middle pair clenched?

Manvers understood him, and replied that he had not noticed any such thing, but that he did not believe she feared the Evil Eye. He went on with his story uninterrupted until the climax. He had found the crucifix, he said, on his return from bathing, and had been pleased with her for leaving it. Then he related the discovery of the body and his talk with Fray Juan de la Cruz. Here came in Gil's third question.

"Did she return your handkerchief?" he asked--and sharply.

Manvers started. "By George, she never did!" he exclaimed. "And I don't wonder at it," he said on reflection. "If she had to knife that fellow, and confess to Fray Juan, and escape for her life, she had enough to do. Of course, she may have left it in the wood."

Gil Perez pressed his lips together. "She got it still," he said. "We find 'er--I know where to look for it."

If he did he kept his knowledge to himself, though he spoke freely enough of Manuela on the way to Madrid.

"This Manuela," he explained, "is a Valenciana--where you find fair women with black men. Valencianos like Moors--love too much white women. I think Manuela is not Gitanilla; she is what you call a Alfa.n.a.lf. Then she is like the Gitanas, as proud as a fire, but all the same a Christian--make free with herself. A Gitana never dare love Christian man--imposs' she do that. Sometimes all the same she do it.

I think Manuela made like that."

Committed to the statement, he presently saw a cheerful solution of it.

"Soon see!" he added, and considered other problems. "That dead man follow Manuela to kill 'er," he decided. "When 'e find 'er with you, master, 'e say, 'Now I know why you run, _hija de perra_. Now I kill two and get a 'orse.' You see?"

"Yes," said Manvers, "I see that. And you think that he told her what he meant to do?"

"Of course 'e tell," said Gil Perez with scorn. "Make it too bad for 'er. Make 'er feel sick."

"Brute!" cried Manvers; but Gil went blandly on.

"'E 'ate 'er so much that 'e feel 'ungry and thirsty. 'E eat before 'e kill. Must do it--too 'ungry. Then she go near 'im, twisting 'erself about--showing 'erself to please him. 'You kiss me, my 'eart,' she say; 'I love you all the same. Kiss me--then you kill.' 'E look at 'er--she very fine girl--give pleasure to see. 'E think, 'I love 'er first--strangle after'--and go on looking. She 'old 'im fast and drag down 'is 'ead--all the time she know where 'e keep _navaja_. She cling and kiss--then nip out _navaja_, and _click_! 'E dead man."

Enthusiasm burned in his black eyes, he stood cheering in his stirrups.

"Senor Don Dios! that very fine! I give twenty dollars to see 'er make 'im love."

Manvers for his part, grew the colder as his man waxed warm. He was clear, however, that he must find the girl and protect her from any trouble that might ensue. She had put herself within the law to save him from the knife; she must certainly be defended from the perils of the law.

From what he could learn of Spanish justice that meant money and influence. These she should have; but there should be no more pastorals. Her kisses had been sweet, the aftertaste was sour in the mouth. Gil Perez with his eloquence and dramatic fire had cured him of hankering after more of them. The girl was a rip, and there was an end of it.

He did not blame himself in the least for having kissed a rip--once.

There was nothing in that. But he had kissed her twice--and that second kiss had given significance to the first. To think of it made him sore all over; it implied a tender relation, it made him seem the girl's lover. Why, it almost justified that sick-faced, grinning rascal, whose staring eyes had shocked him out of his senses. And what a d.a.m.ned fool he had made of himself with the crucifix! He ground his teeth together as he cursed himself for a sentimental idiot.

For the rest of the way it was Gil Perez who cried up the quest--until he was curtly told by his master to talk about something else; and then Gil could have bitten his tongue off for saying a word too much.