The Stowaway Girl Part 34

Carmela struck an att.i.tude.

"Wot, d'ye know 'im?" asked Watts.

"No, it is something--rather important. I must go back to my father.

Ah, I ought to explain. I am the Senhora De Sylva, Dom Corria's daughter."

"Are you really, mum,--miss?" exclaimed Watts, highly interested. "'Ow in the world did ye manage to come up from the coast? Accordin' to all accounts----"

"Yes, what were you going to say?" for the man hesitated.

"Well, some of our chaps will 'ave it that we're runnin' close-hauled on a lee sh.o.r.e."

Carmela knit her brows. The Watts idioms were not those of her governess.

"We had no great difficulty in pa.s.sing through Dom Barraca's lines, if that is what you mean," she said. "Mr. Verity and Mr. Bulmer had obtained special permits, but in my case----"

"Mr. 'oo, did you say, miss?" demanded Watts, whose lower jaw actually dropped from sheer amazement.

"Mr. Verity, the owner of the _Andromeda_. You are one of the crew, I suppose?"

"I'm the chief officer. Watts is my name, miss. But d'you mean to tell me that ole David Verity 'as come 'ere--to Brazil--to this rotten . . . Sorry, miss, but you gev' me a turn, you did. An' d.i.c.key Bulmer--is _'e_ 'ere too?"

"Yes, or he soon will be here. I rode on in advance of the others."

"Well--there--if that don't beat c.o.c.k-fightin'!" cried Watts. "Wot'll c.o.ke say? W'y, 'e'll 'ave a fit. An' Miss Iris! She's to marry ole d.i.c.key. Fancy 'im turnin' up! There'll be the deuce an' all to pay, now, wot between 'im an' Hozier an' the dashin' colonel."

The horse, trying to nibble some gra.s.s at Carmela's feet, suddenly threw his head up, for the cruel South American bit had tightened under a jerk of the reins.

"Who is Mr. Hozier?" asked the girl calmly.

"He is, or was, our second mate, but since the colonel an' 'e got to loggerheads 'e took an' raised a corps of scouts. Some of our fellows joined, but not me. Killin' other folks don't agree with me a little bit. I don't mind a shine in a snug or a friendly sc.r.a.p over an extry drink, but w'en it comes to them long knives----"

"And the colonel--what is _his_ name?" broke in Carmela, turning to loosen the surcingle. She could control her voice but not her eyes, and she did not wish to startle this open-mouthed gossip.

"San Benavides, miss. Captain 'e was on Fernando Noronha; 'e took a mighty quick jump after we kem ash.o.r.e. But I ax your pardon for ramblin' on in this silly way. Won't you go inside? There's a useful ole party there, name of Maria----"

"Ah, Maria--dear, good Maria--she at least will not have forgotten me,"

sobbed Carmela in her own tongue, and Watts afterwards informed c.o.ke that although the inhabitants of China were noted for their peculiar ways, when it came to a show-down in that qualification, the average woman could beat any c.h.i.n.ky ever born. Had he but known more, Watts was also in a position to state that he had squared accounts with the scornful President.

For the Senhora De Sylva might have been seized with mortal illness if judged solely by the manner in which she staggered into her father's house, threw her arms around the neck of an elderly woman whom she petrified by her appearance, and almost fainted--not quite, but on the verge, much nearer than such a strong-minded young lady would have thought possible an hour earlier.

Maria screamed loudly. Tongue-tied at first, she was badly scared when Carmela collapsed on her ample bosom. Restoratives and endearments followed. Carmela asked to be taken to a room where she might wash and shake the dust from her hair and clothes. Maria considered ways and means. Every room in the big house was crowded.

"Who is in my own apartment?" demanded Carmela.

Even before the answer was forthcoming she guessed the truth. The Senhora Ingleza, of course. Those fine eyes of hers flashed dangerously.

"What, then? Does this woman come here and take all?" she cried.

"Ah, _pequinina_, do not be angry," said Maria. "Who save the good G.o.d could tell that you would come from Paris to-day? And the Senhora Ingleza will be glad to give place to you. She is so kind, so unselfish. All the men adore her."

"So I hear," murmured Carmela, trying to still the pa.s.sion that throbbed in her heart, since she was aware that neither Maria nor any other among the old domestics at Las Flores knew of her engagement, and pride was now coming to her aid.

"She will have no word to say to any of them," gabbled Maria. "There is a young Englishman--well, it is no affair of mine, but I am told she loves him, yet is promised to another, an old man, too. _Santa Me_!

That would not suit me if I were her age!"

This home-coming of Carmela was quite an important event in its way.

At first sight it bore the semblance of a mere disillusionment such as any girl might experience under like circ.u.mstances. She had been taken from Las Flores to occupy a palace at Rio de Janeiro, and was driven from the palace to the hotel life of the Continent. During two years she had not seen either father or lover; and lovers of the San Benavides ilk are apt to console themselves during these prolonged intervals. Yet Carmela's shattered romance was the pivot on which rested the future of Brazil.

Had she gone straight to Iris on leaving her father, and made known the astounding tidings that Verity and Bulmer were riding up the Moxoto Valley barely three miles away, Iris would surely have devised some means of acquainting Philip Hozier with the fact. In that event, a.s.suming that he awaited their arrival, the first march of an extended reconnaissance which he thought desirable would necessarily be postponed. And then--well, the recent history of Brazil would have to be re-written, since there cannot be the slightest doubt that Dom Corria De Sylva would never have occupied the Presidential chair a second time.

It would be idle now to inquire too closely into the springs of Philip's resolve to take service under a foreign flag. Perhaps the irksome state of affairs at Las Flores, where there was no mean between loafing and soldiering, was intolerable to a spirited youngster.

Perhaps San Benavides, constantly riding in from the front, irritated him beyond endurance by his superior airs. Or it may be that a growing belief in Iris's determination to sacrifice herself by redeeming her bond made him careless as to what happened in the near future. The outcome of one or all of these influences was that he sought, and was readily given, a commission in the Army of Liberation. Like all sailors, he preferred the mounted arm, and De Sylva, having the highest opinion of his thoroughness, actually appointed him to command a branch of the Intelligence Department.

Philip, trained to pin his faith in maps and charts, came to the conclusion that Las Flores could be attacked from the rear, which lay to the northwest. The Brazilians laughed at the notion. Where were the troops to come from? Barraca must bring all his men by sea. There were none stationed in those wild mountains.

"Better go and make sure," quoth Philip.

He ascertained the President's intentions as to the next twenty-four hours, a.s.sembled his little body of scouts, saw to their forage and equipment, took leave of Iris, and hurried off.

When two stout and elderly fellow-countrymen of his climbed the last mile of the rough valley beneath the Las Flores slope, Philip and his troop were a league or more beyond the Moxoto's watershed.

Meanwhile, Carmela De Sylva proved that her resolute chin was not deceptive as a guide to temperament. The Dona Pondillo deemed her a spirit when she appeared on the veranda, but Carmela's impetuous kiss soon disabused the worthy dame of her error.

Iris, wondering why the lively chatter of her Brazilian friends was so suddenly stilled, to be succeeded by a hubbub of excited words as the older ladies present gathered around the new-comer, asked one of the Pondillo girls what had happened.

"It is Carmela, the President's daughter," giggled the other. "Mother says she is engaged to San Benavides. What fun! But where has she come from? When last I heard of her she was in Paris."

A month of close companionship with people who spoke Portuguese all day long, and often far into the night, had familiarized Iris with many of the common phrases. Thus, she gathered one fact as to Carmela, and more than suspected another. For a reason that every woman will understand, she felt a subtle thrill of fear. If San Benavides were really Carmela's accepted lover, then, indeed, Iris had good cause for foreboding. Though the Brazilian had never directly avowed his pa.s.sion, since he knew quite well that she would refuse to listen, she could not be blind to his infatuation. Only the threat of her dire displeasure had restrained Hozier from an open quarrel with him. Her position, difficult enough already, would become intolerable if De Sylva's daughter became jealous, and she had no doubt whatsoever that San Benavides would seek to propitiate the woman he loved by callously telling the woman he had promised to marry that his affections were bestowed elsewhere.

Her heart sank when she discovered this new maelstrom in her sea of troubles; but here was Carmela herself speaking to her, and in English:

"So you are Iris Yorke!" the girl was saying. "I have heard so much of you, yet you are so utterly different from what I imagined."

"You have heard of _me_?" repeated Iris, and surprise helped her to smile with something of her wonted self-possession.

"Yes, on board the steamer. We sailed from Southampton, and had little else to talk of during the voyage. But, of course, you cannot understand. Among my fellow-pa.s.sengers were your uncle and Mr. Bulmer."

Iris had long relinquished any hope of communicating with Bootle until the present deadlock in the operations of the two armies was a thing of the past. Completely mystified now by Carmela's glib reference to the two men whose names were so often in her thoughts though seldom on her lips, she could only gaze at the Senhora De Sylva in silent bewilderment.

Carmela, feeling that she was gaining ground rapidly, affected a note of polite regret.

"Please forgive me for being so abrupt. Perhaps I ought to have prepared you. But it is quite true. Mr. Verity and Mr. Bulmer came with me from Europe. We all reached Pernambuco the day before yesterday. Indeed, if it were not for them, and the a.s.sistance they gave me, I would not be here now. No one recognized me, fortunately, and--I hope you will not be vexed--I pa.s.sed as Mr. Verity's niece. In fact, I took your place for the time."

A notable feature of the De Sylva utterance was its clearness.

Carmela's concluding words could not possibly be mistaken for anything else. Their meaning, on the other hand, was capable of varying shades of significance; but Iris was far too amazed to seek depths beneath their literalness.

"If Mr. Verity and Mr. Bulmer are in Brazil----" she began tremulously, but Carmela broke in with a shrill laugh.