CHAPTER VII
As soon as I realized the identity of the man before me, you may be sure I did my utmost to appear at my best to him. So much, I knew, depended on his first impression.
"I am exceedingly pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Trevelyan," said the President, in a voice that struck me as being distinctly pleasant. "I fancy I saw your yacht from a distance this afternoon. She is a handsome craft, and, if I am not mistaken, was built on the Clyde. Am I right in my conjecture?"
For a moment I felt inclined to ask myself how it was this man was able to discriminate between a boat built on the Thames and another built on the Clyde. I subdued the inclination, however, and fell back upon my Trevelyan manner.
"Quite right," I answered. "She hails from the Clyde, and, like most boats launched on that river, she is a credit to her builders. I don't know that I have ever met with a better. I hope I may be able to induce your Excellency to pay her a visit, in order that you may inspect her for yourself."
"It will give me great pleasure to do so," he answered, and when he had conversed with me for a few moments longer, he left me in order to pay his respects to a lady at the further end of the room. I was not sorry for this, as it gave me an opportunity of observing him a little more closely. He was certainly a remarkable-looking man, and each time I glanced at him the conclusion was more forcibly borne upon me that he was one with whom it would be better to be on friendly terms than anything else. Although there was an apparent kindliness in his manner, one could not help feeling that it was only the velvet glove masking the iron hand concealed below.
He remained in the room for upwards of half-an-hour and then took his departure, not, however, until he had crossed to me once more and had repeated his desire to visit the yacht, in order that he might inspect her more closely.
"As I said just now, I shall be delighted to show her to you," I hastened to reply, and thereupon suggested that he should breakfast with me on board the next day, and that with his permission I would include General Sagana and his family in the invitation.
"You are most hospitable, Señor Trevelyan," he answered, "and if you will allow me I will also bring my niece, the Señorita Dolores de Perera. I am sure she will be most pleased to make your acquaintance."
"I shall be more than honoured," I replied, in my best manner, feeling that at last I was making real headway. "Would eleven o'clock suit your Excellency's convenience?"
"Admirably," he returned. "Let us then say au revoir until eleven o'clock to-morrow."
I promised that a boat should meet them at the wharf, and then bowing to the ladies, and accompanied by General Sagana, he left the room. When the General returned he complimented me warmly upon the success I had made with the President.
"A most remarkable man, Señor Travillion," he continued, twirling his enormous moustaches, "the most remarkable man Equinata has yet produced. His career has, indeed, been an extraordinary one in every way."
"Indeed?" I answered, with an endeavour to conceal the interest I was taking in what he said. "May I ask whom he succeeded?"
For a moment the situation possessed a flavour of embarrassment. I was not aware that the General had been one of Silvestre's principal adherents, and that it was only when he discovered the fact that affairs were not as they should be with his master that he had transferred his allegiance to the stronger party.
"His predecessor was a certain Don Guzman de Silvestre," the old gentleman replied, but in a tone that suggested two things to me; first, that he was not aware of my connection with the man in question, and secondly, that the subject was a decidedly distasteful one to him. Realizing this I did not attempt to pursue it further.
Having formally invited my hostess and host and their daughters to my little déjeuner on the following day, I bade them farewell and took my departure. It was evident that my visit had been appreciated, and that some importance was attached to it, for I found the General's private carriage waiting outside to convey me back to the wharf. I was careful to thank him for the courtesy he had extended to me, and then drove off.
When I retired to rest that night, it was with the feeling that my day had not been altogether wasted. Behind it, however, was a decided impression that President Fernandez was by no means the sort of man to be caught napping, and that, if I wished to trap him, it would be necessary for me to have all my wits about me. Moreover, I fancied that when I did catch him, I should find him a somewhat difficult captive to tame. As is very often the case in such matters, one apparently inconsequent remark of his haunted me more than anything else that had fallen from his lips. Why had he declared the yacht to be a Clyde-built boat? Was it only a statement made haphazard, or had he some previous knowledge of the craft in question? The mere thought that he might know anything of her past made me anxious beyond measure. The possibilities were that he did not, but the fact that he might have an inkling of my intention was sufficient to prevent me from sleeping and to cause me to tumble and toss in my bed, hour after hour, endeavouring to find some satisfactory solution to the problem. "I have seen what he can do to those who offend him," Hermaños had said to me, "and I confess the picture did not please me." At the same time I could not believe that it was possible that the President had any idea of the real reason of my presence in Equinata. The secret had been so jealously guarded that it could not have leaked out. These thoughts, however, did not prevent me from looking forward with the greatest possible interest to the festivity of the morrow. Immediately on my arrival on board, I called Ferguson to a consultation. He forthwith interviewed the chief cook, and the result was the preparation of a repast that promised to equal anything ever seen in Equinata before.
As you may suppose, the following morning was a busy one with us. The arrangements were most elaborate. Flowers were procured from the shore, and with them the saloons were decorated. A string band was engaged to play on the bridge during the repast, and in the President's honour the yacht was hung with bunting.
Half-an-hour before my guests were due to arrive, I descended to my cabin and made my toilet. I had scarcely returned to the deck before I was informed by the chief mate, who was on the look-out, that the boats we expected were putting off from the shore. Ferguson stood beside me and watched them come alongside. Out of compliment to the President he had caused the flag of Equinata to be hoisted, and had drawn up a Guard of Honour from the crew on either side of the gangway. The first boat to come alongside contained the President, his aide-de-camp, and a lady, whom I argued must be none other than his niece, the Señorita Dolores de Perera. The President was the first to set foot upon the deck, and, as he did so, the band struck up the National Air of Equinata. His Excellency shook me warmly by the hand, and then, turning to the lady who accompanied him, presented me to her. I have met some very beautiful women in my time, but I am doubtful whether I have ever seen one who could compare with the lady I then had before me. She was slightly above the middle height, with raven hair and dark flashing eyes, and carried herself with the grace that is so characteristic of her nationality. Her manner towards me was distinctly cordial, and under its influence I began to think that our luncheon was not destined to be as dull an affair as I had feared it might be. I escorted them to a cool spot under the awning, and then prepared to receive my other guests. Upon their arrival, we proceeded to the saloon for lunch. That the President was impressed, I could plainly see. He paid me many compliments upon the beauty of the yacht, and vowed that, when times improved in Equinata, he would have just such another built for his own private use.
"How I envy you your lot, Señor Trevelyan!" remarked the Señorita Dolores, when we had seated ourselves at the table, and as she said it, she threw a beaming glance at me. "How beautiful it must be to skim over the seas like a bird, to be always seeing new countries, and receiving new impressions. Yours must be an ideal life, if ever there were one."
"I fear you have omitted to take into your calculations the existence of Custom House officials, the engagement of crews, and the fact that a yacht, however beautiful, needs coaling, in order to be able to properly perform her functions. There are also storms to mar one's pleasure, Port Dues, Harbour Regulations, Quarantine, and a thousand and one other little matters that, though not important in themselves, are, nevertheless, sufficient to play the part of crumpled rose-leaves in your bed of happiness."
"But in these seas you have all smooth sailing. You came here from – ?"
She asked the question so innocently that I felt sure it was without any sinister intention.
"From Havana to Key West, and thence to Jamaica, Barbadoes, and so to Equinata!"
"And your plans after leaving here?"
"I have scarcely formed any plans yet," I answered, and then I added with a fair amount of truth, "You see, Señorita, it all depends upon circumstances. I may go on to Rio, thence to Buenos Ayres, and perhaps round the Horn to the Pacific Islands, or I may return to England at once."
"While we remain on here leading our humdrum life," said the President, toying with his champagne glass as he spoke, "and ending the year almost as we began it, seeing few strangers and interested only in our own little mediocre affairs."
"I fear your Excellency must speak ironically," I said. "What grander or more interesting occupation can there be in the world, than the work of building up a new country, a country which may ultimately take its place among the greatest of the earth? While I am fluttering like a butterfly from place to place, you are guiding, helping, and benefiting your fellow-man, and through him the entire human race."
"You are an idealist, I perceive, Señor Trevelyan," the President returned, with one of his peculiar smiles. "Unfortunately for your theory, my fellow-man does not always wish to be benefited, as your words would lead one to suppose. To my thinking he is very like that noble animal, the horse, who, while being capable of great things, must first learn the principles of subjection. What say you, General Sagana?"
"I agree with your Excellency," replied the General with some little embarrassment, though why he should have felt it I could not at the time understand.
I turned to the Señorita Dolores.
"You are deeply interested in politics, of course, Señorita?" I said, as innocently as I knew how.
"No, I do not mind admitting that I take no sort of interest in politics," she answered. "I find it better for many reasons not to do so. So long as I am not publicly insulted in the streets, and the mob do not attempt to shoot my uncle, or to come to the palace and break our windows, I am content to let whichever party pleases hold the reins of power. But there, I feel sure, Señor Trevelyan, you did not come to Equinata to talk politics. We must discover a way of amusing you, and of making your time pass pleasantly while you are with us, without that!"
As she said this, she glanced down the table at the two daughters of General Sagana, who returned her smile with a look that said as plainly as any words could speak, that if they were given the opportunity, they would take care that my time was spent as pleasantly as possible.
All things taken into consideration, my little déjeuner was a decided success, and the affability of the President, when the ladies had withdrawn, helped to confirm me in this opinion. Nothing could have exceeded his geniality. He narrated several amusing incidents connected with his past life, and once even unbent so far as to comment on a certain act connected with the reign of his predecessor.
"Silvestre was a clever man; a very clever man," he said; "but, as events proved, entirely wanting in a proper appreciation of his position. Had he used his opportunities as he might have done, he would, in all probability, be occupying the position he held then and which I hold to-day."
"And may I ask what has become of him?" I inquired, not without some curiosity as to what his answer would be.
The President, however, shook his head.
"No one seems to have any idea where he is," he said. "After the last crisis he disappeared from Equinata, but where he went I cannot tell you. Very probably he is dead. Men of his calibre do not, as a rule, make old bones."
His manner was so open, his speech so frank, that my suspicions that he was aware of my errand in his capital were fast dying away.
Later on we left the saloon and joined the ladies on deck. A cool wind was blowing, and it was very pleasant under the awnings. After half-an-hour's conversation, followed by an inspection of the yacht, the President declared his intention of returning to the shore. The boats were accordingly ordered alongside, whereupon, having thanked me for my hospitality, the President and the Señorita, attended by their aide-de-camp, the latter a great lady-killer, took their departure. General Sagana and his party followed suit a little later, and then I was free to discuss the success of our entertainment with Ferguson.
"If all goes on as it is doing now," I said, lighting a fresh cigar, and handing my case to him, "it should not prove a very difficult matter to inveigle him on board to dinner some night, when we might settle the affair once and for all."
"Unfortunately, the chances are a hundred to one that, if he came, he would bring an aide with him, as he did to-day. What should we do then?"
"Take the aide to the island with us," I replied promptly. "One more prisoner would make little or no difference to Silvestre."
Next morning I was the recipient of an invitation from the President to dine at the palace on the Thursday following. Needless to say, I hastened to accept, and in due course presented myself at his Excellency's magnificent abode. I was met in the hall by the aide-de-camp who had breakfasted with us on board the yacht, and by him was conducted to the great drawing-room where the President and his niece were receiving their guests. Some thirty or forty people were present, among the number being General Sagana and Madame, and their two fair daughters, who welcomed me like old friends. The President took the General's wife in to dinner, while, for some reason best known to them, I was permitted the honour of escorting the Señorita.
"So you have not grown tired of Equinata yet, Señor Trevelyan?" said my fair companion, as we made our way in our turn along the stately hall in the direction of the dining-room.
"On the contrary, I grow more charmed with it every day," I replied. "Who could help liking it, when its citizens are so hospitable to strangers?"
"Before you praise us, remember that you set us a charming example," she continued. "It will be long before I forget the pleasant morning we spent on board your yacht. I can assure you that my uncle also looks back on it with the greatest pleasure."
"I trust it may not be the last time he will visit her," I answered, with more truth than is usually attachable to an idle compliment.
The room in which we dined was a magnificent apartment, furnished with a grandeur that gave it an almost regal dignity. The President's chef was evidently a treasure, for the dinner could scarcely have been excelled. During its progress the President addressed himself on several occasions to me, and invited me to accompany him on a visit to some celebrated copper mines in the neighbourhood, also to a review of the troops which was to take place in the Great Square in a week's time. As may be supposed, I was quick to accept both invitations.
"And at the end of the week there is to be a grand ball at the Opera House," the Señorita continued, when her uncle had finished speaking. "It is in aid of the convent of the Little Sisters of the Poor, and is one of our recognized gaieties of the year. I wonder if we shall be able to persuade you to be present?"
"I shall be more than delighted," I replied. "That is, of course, provided I am not compelled to leave Equinata in the meantime."
"You must not leave us too soon," she said, and then paused and examined her plate attentively. I was about to answer her, when her attention was attracted by her neighbour on her right, and I was accordingly left to my own thoughts.
I looked down the long table, glittering with glass and plate, and as I did so, I endeavoured to apprize the value of my extraordinary position. Who at that board could have guessed the errand in Equinata of the man whom, doubtless, so many of them envied for his wealth and for his magnificent floating home? I could not help wondering what my own feelings would have been had I known only three months or so before, when I was standing watch as a mail-boat officer, that in a few short weeks I should be the honoured guest of the President of the Republic of Equinata, and the presumptive owner of a yacht valued at upwards of a hundred thousand pounds.
I looked across the room and examined the pictures hanging upon the walls. That exactly opposite me riveted my attention. I felt that I could not be mistaken as to the likeness. It was the portrait of Don Guzman de Silvestre, and the artist had managed to depict him to the life. How it called me back to other days! As I looked at it, I seemed to be sitting in the old inn garden at Falstead, listening to his instructions for the campaign, and wondering how long Molly would be at the choir practice.
"You have suddenly become very silent, Señor Trevelyan," said the Señorita, rousing me from my reverie.
"I was thinking that I shall often look back with pleasure upon this evening," I replied.
The look she gave me would probably have encouraged many men to embark on a course of the maddest flirtation. I, however, was adamant.
"In reality," she said, "I suppose you are like all the other visitors we have, and, as soon as you are away from Equinata, you will forget us altogether."
"I assure you I shall never forget your beautiful city as long as I live," I answered, and with more truth than she imagined.
She threw a quick glance at me and then, looking down the dinner-table, gave the signal to the ladies to rise. I must confess here that the Señorita interested me very strangely. At first I had thought her merely a very beautiful woman, well fitted by nature to perform the difficult task asked of her; it was not long, however, before I came to have a somewhat better understanding of her real abilities. In what light I regard her now, you will be able to realize for yourself when you have read my story.
As had been arranged, three days after the dinner I have just described, I accompanied the President and a considerable party to the famous copper mines in the mountain range that began behind the city and extended well-nigh to the further limit of the Republic. We were only absent three days, yet in that short space of time I was permitted an opportunity of studying the real character and personality of Equinata's ruler more closely than I had yet done. At first I must confess I had been prepared to dislike him, but little by little, so gradually indeed that I scarcely noticed the change, I found that he was managing to overcome my prejudices. Under the influence of these new impressions I also began to see my own part of the business in a new light. From what Silvestre had said to me, I had up to that time regarded him as a traitor to his friends, and as a tyrant and enemy to his country. I now discovered that he was neither the one nor the other. He ruled according to his lights, and if he held his people in an iron grip, it was for the good and sufficient reason that he knew their character, and the sort of government they required. My own position, when I came to overhaul it properly, I discovered to be by no means edifying. I accepted his hospitality and his kindnesses, yet I was only waiting my chance to prove myself a traitor of the worst kind. I was posing as his friend, yet at the same time was preparing to prove myself his worst enemy. Such thoughts as these kept me company by day and night, and made me regard myself with a contempt such as I had never dreamed of before. And yet I knew that, at any hazard, I must go through with it. Had I not taken Silvestre's money and pledged myself to serve him? Therefore I could not draw back.
On our return to the city from the mountains, I was present at the review of the troops in the Great Square, and witnessed the redoubtable army of Equinata, headed by General Sagana, as you may suppose in the fullest of full uniforms, march by and salute its chief. That ceremony over, I returned to the yacht to while away the hours as best I could until it should be time to dress for the great ball that was to take place at the Opera House that evening.
Having rigged myself out for the occasion, I was rowed ashore, and, as I had plenty of time to spare, I determined to walk to the Great Square in preference to taking a cab. To do this it was necessary for me to pass a certain fashionable café, whose little tables decorated the broad pavement outside. At one of these tables two men were seated, playing dominoes as they sipped their coffee. One of them looked up at me as I passed. As my eyes fell on his face I gave a start, for I recognized him instantly as a well-known Rio merchant, who had made several voyages with me in the old Pernambuco, and with whom I had been on the most friendly terms. He stared at me as if he thought he ought to know my face, but, I suppose on account of the absence of my moustache, could not quite remember where he had seen it last.
I hurried on, with my heart in my mouth, as the saying has it, but I had not gone very far ere I heard some one bustling after me. A few seconds later a hand was laid upon my arm, and I turned to find the individual I had seen seated at the table standing before me.
"Ten t'ousand pardons, señor," he began in English, "but am I mistaken if I say your name is 'Elmsworth?"
I had to make up my mind.
"I'm afraid you're making some little mistake," I replied, and then added what was worse than a lie, that is to say, a half-truth, "I know no one of the name of 'Elmsworth."
"Den I must beg of you ten t'ousand more bardons," he continued. "I t'ought you vas one of mine old vriends dot I vas at sea mit. Forgive me dat I interrupt you in your valk."
I willingly forgave him and passed on.
The question that kept me company for the rest of the evening was – Had my assurance satisfied him? If not, what would he be likely to do?