WHAT THIS STORY IS ABOUT:
ADVENTURE
The ancient quarrel between the two Central American republics, Barata and Bioli was ripe for renewed eruption. For political reasons, however, the signal for it had to be well chosen. Assassination was the ideal pretext. Señor Serati of Barata made his preparations with machiavellian skill, and Dr. Enrico Dalston was sent as Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Pleni-potentiary to the Republic of Bioli.
President Gomez of Bioli became suspicious; his beautiful daughter, Juliana, loved the handsome Englishman with passionate abandon, and the explosion of the assassin's bomb brought about results as unforeseen as they were violent.
This exciting and realistic romance, set in the highly inflammable atmosphere of Central America, is equal to any that has come from Fowler Wright's pen.
CONTENTS
| PRELUDE | |
| I. | THE QUESTION OF WHERE THEY SIT |
| II. | COMPANION FOR JULIANA |
| III. | "THE SPACE THAT MAKES ATTRACTION FELT" |
| IV. | APPROACH ON A SUMMER SEA |
| V. | BIOLI INTENDS WAR? |
| VI. | THE CURTAIN RISES ON THE EVENT |
| VII. | ENRICO DALSTON IS REASONABLY SURPRISED |
| VIII. | MAGNANIMITY OF PRESIDENT CORTEZ |
| IX. | BREAKFAST TABLE AT SAN SEBASTIAN |
| X. | ATTITUDE OF PRESIDENT GOMEZ |
| XI. | JULIANA ENTERS THE FIELD |
| XII. | STAGE FOR ASSASSINATION |
| XIII. | ETHICS OF ASSASSINATION |
| XIV. | TOO MANY LIES |
| XV. | CONVERSATION OF MANY CONSEQUENCES |
| XVI. | OBSERVATION OF COMING STORM |
| XVII. | OF MARRIAGE; AND ASSASSINATION DEFERRED |
| XVIII. | RETICENCE OF PRESIDENT GOMEZ |
| XIX. | "FOR ONE NIGHT, OR THE OTHER NIGHT - - " |
| XX. | BREAKFAST; AND CONVERSATIONS THEREAT |
| XXI. | RETICENCE OF ANOTHER PRESIDENT |
| XXII. | CONRADI WILL USE HIS BOMB |
| XXIII. | DEATH COMES IN THE GARDEN OF MANY PLANTS |
| XXIV. | EFFECTS OF A GOOD BOMB |
| XXV. | CAPTAIN PEREZ MAKES A MISTAKE |
| XXVI. | TELEPHONE CONVERSATION OF THE TWO PRESIDENTS |
| XXVII. | CONRADI KNOWS NOTHING OF BOMBS |
| XXVIII. | PRESIDENT CORTES IS NOT PLEASED |
| XXIX. | INSTRUCTIONS FROM PRESIDENT CORTEZ |
| XXX. | INTERLUDE BETWEEN KISSES |
| XXXI. | BIOLI WAITS FOR THE STORM |
| XXXII. | PRESIDENT CORTEZ AGREES HIS PRICE |
| XXXIII. | A PALACE IS BOUGHT AND SOLD |
All the characters in this book are purely imaginary and have no relation whatsoever to any living persons.
ORDEAL OF BARATA
PRELUDE
BARATA,* as we all know, is a small Central American republic on the north-eastern sea-board of that mysterious continent, and no ordinary newspaper reader can be ignorant of the acute trouble which broke out in the early part of last year between it and Bioli, its northern neighbour.
* Pronounced Baratã, with the stress on the last syllable.
It is common knowledge also that the immediate occasion, if not the originating cause, of that demonstration of hostility was the public assassination of an official representative of Barata in the public gardens of Bioli's capital city; but the circumstances of this tragic and momentous crime were, from their nature, a secret closely kept, and strenuously denied. It is only now, after the discord has died away, and the United States has ceased to consider the necessity of landing marines to persuade the two yapping members of its troublesome Central American kennel to a sulky peace, that the whole tale can be frankly told, without fear of contradiction or consequence, especially as His Excellency Señor Serati, in whose fertile amoral mind the scheme which consigned Dr. Enrico Dalston to so dramatic an end had its inception, is no longer living.
ORDEAL OF BARATA
CHAPTER I
THE QUESTION OF WHERE THEY SIT
THE head steward of a modern liner has no more delicate duty than the allocation of the passengers' seats in the dining-saloon. This is true of the ocean liners of every nationality and all parts of the world, but most particularly so of those which serve the jealous and excitable citizens of Latin America.
The operation is somewhat facilitated by the custom of inviting the passengers to seat themselves in informal promiscuity for the first meal, giving time for the head steward to study the passenger-lists, and for some casual acquaintances to be made, before they file into the saloon, and are invited, one by one, to inspect the plan of the tables, and express any preferences which they may have already formed.
Those who are seated together for fifty or a hundred consecutive meals will either develop a friendly intimacy which blooms into most sudden flower, as plants may do in the shorter summer of the moon (and which will fade with an equal suddenness when the short voyage is done), or be roused to antipathy, or reduced to resentful boredom, if they be associated with those who are uncongenial or discordant in opinions, or age, or habits, so that the harmony of the voyage is very largely dependent upon the discretion with which these allocations are made.
Apart from that, there are questions of social precedence, often difficult to resolve, and concerning which it is of the first importance that no serious mistake should be made.
To the envious glance of a steerage passenger, the empty first-class dining-saloon might appear to be indistinguishable in desirability, and its scattered tables, alike in their shining appointments, to be of an equal glory. But that is far from the fact. There is the captain's table. There is that of the chief engineer. There is the one over which the ship's doctor presides. There are small tables for one or two only which accommodate those who are not inclined for sociability, and also - and of more importance - those who regard themselves as of an eminence with which the head steward does not agree, though he is shrewd enough to know what they will expect. The seats at the captain's table are already filled. To place them with less prominent companions may be to lose a good tip at the end of the voyage. It may mean that they will transfer their patronage to a rival line. He offers them a table á deux, which, though with no gratitude, they must accept. They understand that they are not graded, but placed apart.
The head steward of the Abasco (just out of Southampton, for San Luiz, San Collona, Rio, Buenos Aires, and other South American ports) thought he saw a way through his greatest difficulty, if he would omit his usual precaution. There were seven available seats at the captain's table. His practice was to allot six, and keep one in reserve, to which he could transfer a passenger whose importance had been overlooked if a later need should arise. It was a habit private to his own mind, and those of his immediate staff, for the dinning-tables are rarely filled on the first day out, even though the sea may be as smooth as an inland lake on a windless day.
But this time there were, at the least, seven whom he could not place elsewhere without almost certain offence. . . . There was Dr. Enrico Dalston approaching him now.
There was no doubt where he must sit. Up to a few months ago his father had been Chairman of the Line. The death of Sir Miles Dalston had shown him to have amassed one of the largest fortunes that the shipping industry had ever provided for a private pocket. He had not been a mere owner of ships, but a "magnate" in the financial columns of the daily Press. His son had inherited a seat on the board of the S.A.A. Line. More than that, he had been left an actual majority of the Company's shares. In ultimate, if unexercised, power, he controlled the Line.
But rumour said that he was less interested in shipping than in the profession in which he had taken his degree shortly before his father died; and having inherited such wealth, and the freedom which it gives, it was not surprising that he had booked a passage to Barata, for it was his mother's land, and he had himself been born in the adjoining republic of Bioli, though they were countries which, since infancy, he had never seen. His father had never liked them. His mother, exiled at the call of love, had talked of them ceaselessly to her only child, when her husband had not been within hearing. To the boy's imagination they had become a paradise of celestial beauty, the real home to which, with his mother's infective yearning, he longed to go. And so, having taken his diploma, and with no ties in the Old World which it would not be easy to break, he had decided to go.
The head steward saw a young man approach who was lean and tall, and with more beauty of face and form than is usual to the men of his father's race, but that race was unmistakably shown in the direct gaze and friendly frankness of the grey eyes, and in a perfection of English speech natural to one who had heard it spoken around him from his third year. It was equally natural that he should be proficient in the language which he had learnt from his mother's lips, and in which she had been accustomed, until her death three years before, to talk always to him when they were alone together.
The head steward pointed to the chart. "Number two, sir, if you please," he said deferentially.
The first seat on the right of the captain's chair had a name entered against it already: Señorita J. Gomez. The next beyond it was to be Dr. Dalston's. The head steward did not suppose that he would object to that. His watchful assistant was already making out the card. In another moment, Dr. Dalston's name would have been entered on the chart.
But he said pleasantly: "If there's room at the doctor's table - - ?" And the head steward, concealing a momentary surprise, gave him the seat which he preferred. He thought, with satisfaction, that he might be able to reserve the allocated seat, as his habit was, which it had seemed that he would be unable to do.
CHAPTER II
COMPANION FOR JULIANA
DR. DALSTON had been moved by no impulse of humility. He had no desire or expectation of hearing Captain Spotley's voice say: "Friend, come up higher," as the parable foretells to be the fate of those who seat themselves on too low a bench.
He had chosen the doctor's table because he was keen to discuss a subject on which a ship's doctor, travelling regularly between English and South American ports, would be likely to be well informed. He had already given some special study to the wonders of the South American flora, which have provided so many new (and perilous) drugs for European pharmaceutical use. Where so many had been found already, might there not be others of equal potency to be discovered by one who had studied botany, had command of great wealth, and might find ways to the confidence even of the pure Indian tribes, as a man of wholly European ancestry would be unable to do?
So he dreamed. But it is given to few to map the course of their lives accurately for future years, except they be content to walk in much-trodden paths. There will be so many obstacles to be overcome, so many lures to call them aside. The strongest will may need the alliance of happy chance if it is to arrive at its distant goal.
Even in his choice of the doctor's table Enrico Dalston found that he had nursed a most sterile hope. His medical colleague knew so little of South American flora, or the origin of the drugs which he dispensed for sickness upon the voyage, that it would have been difficult, if not impossible, for him to have cared less. Nor were opportunities of conversation at the dinner-table such that his ignorance need be indecently bared.
Dr. Robey was a good-humoured, ease-loving man, who had disposed of an outlying country practice because he objected to turning out during the night. He had used a relative's influence to get him the appointment he now held, because, though he might still be liable to be called during the night hours, such occasions would be few, and it was certain that he would not have to go far.
He enjoyed presiding at his table, for which he had a stock of stories and jests which might not be very extensive, but was sufficient for the few weeks during which a single audience would remain to hear them. After that, they could be recommenced with the pleasant certainty that they would be greeted with the same laughter as before.
The head steward knew Dr. Robey's stories. He knew the kind of people who would appreciate them, who were also the kind that the doctor liked to see seated around him. With the insight of long experience he glanced at each passenger as he appeared, and selected those who would find the doctor's conversation congenial. They might not thank him for putting them at that table, but at the end of the voyage they would be content that they had had a good time, and it is the final verdict that counts. But if they took a second voyage on the Abasco they would be seated elsewhere, lest the doctor should be silenced, or they bored by hearing his stories a second time.
Now, Dr. Robey knew who Dr. Dalston was, and would have been willing, though scarcely anxious, to please one of his importance for was he not practically his employer? - though he took life too easily to disturb himself much, even for that. But he saw only a pleasant-mannered colleague, much younger than himself, who showed a ready disposition to become silent, and let the light-hearted chatter go its own way, which tended to ribaldry before the dessert appeared.
The other occupants of the table were middle-aged people of the hard-drinking, broad-joking types, with which Dr. Robey was most at ease. The head steward understood that single ladies were not to be sent to his board, unless they were such as would be unlikely to ask for a jest to be explained, which it was not always seemly to do. Listening, watching, smiling, answering readily any remark addressed to himself as good companionship required, Enrico saw that he had made a mistake. But it was not one which he had thought of disturbing until he saw Juliana at the captain's table next morning, and learned what he had missed.
At that time he was alone at his table, and she at hers. There was nothing surprising in that. Lunch and dinner on the Abasco were at set hours, for which a bugle was sounded about the ship. But breakfast was a meal to which each passenger would come (if at all) at his own time. On the first day out, with a fresh wind abeam giving the liner a slight but perceptible roll, there were many who would not come. Only the young and vigorous, such of them as were not vexed by the tossing waves, would appear at 8.30 a.m. when the saloon was opened. But Enrico, entering at five minutes after the hour, saw nothing surprising in the fact that Juliana was already there. She was five years younger than he, and of a vitality which would be unlikely to miss a meal for any presumption of heaving sea.
They faced each other for that meal over a bare space, though they were three tables apart. They had opportunities of studying one another which they did not miss. Enrico's breakfast took longer in consequence, though he ate less. Juliana's took longer still, for she ate more.
But he sat on until she rose and left, and after that he sought the purser, and enquired who she was.
That was easily told. She was a young lady of Bioli who had been educated in England, and was now on the way back to her native land. She was travelling alone.
Five years before, she had come to England on the Abasco, being then in the charge of an older woman. The purser said that she was little changed. He shared a memory of a vital, vivid, impulsive girl, with some length of leg, which had been more freely shown than it was now. It was evident that she was a young lady of whom he approved.
But it was not because he approved of black hair with a natural curl and a natural gloss, or of eyes that were equally bright and dark, or the pale Spanish beauty of an oval face, or the joyous vitality which was more than any of these, that he had seated her at Captain Spotley's right hand. He knew better than that.
It was because she was the daughter - actually the only child - of President Gomez, who ruled Bioli more absolutely than most twentieth-century kings would attempt to do.
In Central and South America, presidents come and go, and before they come they are mostly of small account, and of still less when they are gone. But while they remain in power they, and their only daughters, have a status which must not be lightly ignored. The head steward had placed her where he considered she had a right to be, and no less readily because he saw that neither Captain Spotley nor Dr. Dalston would be likely to complain of the selection which he had made.
The purser asked, would Dr. Dalston like an introduction to be arranged? Dr. Dalston thought not. He had discretion to prefer the less formal approach. But he considered how he could recover the position at her side which he had so ignorantly thrown away. It was a point on which he would not be easily foiled, but which yet seemed a formidable difficulty, for, though he might have the power to secure his will, it was that which he would be reluctant to use. Certainly not in a way which would require rudeness to another passenger.
When next he saw the head steward hurrying past, he stopped a deferential man, and approached the subject tentatively with a remark that he supposed that few of the dining-tables were full. That was no more than to state the obvious, the ship carrying about half her full complement of first-class passengers.
But the head steward had had a hint from the purser, and came to the point at once. "There's still your seat at the captain's table waiting for you, if you'd like to have it."
"Seat number two, was it not?"
"Yes, sir. Between Señorita Gomez and Madame I Marthe."
"Very well. You can transfer me to that."
Enrico strolled away, thanking Fate, as he had some reason to do, though perhaps not overmuch. It could afford to give him a free pass in the courts of love, having prepared for him a peril of another kind. With no foresight of this he took the good that came with a glad hand. He had already resolved that Juliana was the most desirable prize that the world held, but that realisation made him the more cautious in his approach. He had three weeks ahead. If he sought her now she might avoid, even resent, a too-obvious pursuit. He would wait till lunch-time, when acquaintance might be naturally made.
He did wisely in that, for though he had been more b Juliana's thoughts than she would have been likely to own, she would have been more wary for that, having in mind the letter which she had had from her father a week before, in which he had warned her against the facile shipboard friendships which so seldom come to a lasting fruit, but which may entangle a girl in ways which are easier to regret than to cast aside. To that letter she had sent a gaily confident reply, and she was in no mood now to lose sleep for the first stranger who looked at her with admiring eyes. Everyone looked at her, and they were few indeed who were content with a single glance. She would have been saint, or pure fool, if she had not been conscious of that.
But when she came to lunch and found Dr. Dalston already occupying the next seat, she was not greatly annoyed.
CHAPTER III
"THE SPACE THAT MAKES ATTRACTION FELT"
THE minutes passed, and they were still the sole occupants of the table, a circumstance which seemed singular in itself, and gave to their position an intimacy, if not a significance, which it would not otherwise have held.
"I hope," he said, "that my coming here hasn't frightened everyone else away."
"It does look rather like it," she agreed, and then, fearing a note of rudeness in that assent, added: "It hasn't frightened me."
"Perhaps," he countered lightly, "you didn't know I should be here."
She was audacious in her reply, guessing what she did: "I hadn't any idea. Why did you come?"
"As a matter of fact, it is the seat that was allotted to me, but I tried the doctor's table. I came because I like the best society I can get."
"Then it's a shame that they're not here."
"Do I look very depressed?"
"No, I can't say you do."
"Perhaps I know when I'm well off."
She hesitated on a retort which must have brought an even more direct compliment to herself, and changed to: "I'm told the captain doesn't often come down to lunch."
"That doesn't account for all the seats being empty while the other tables are filling up."
"No. I suppose one or two more will be turning up before long."
"Do you know who the others are?"
"I've heard their names. There are Señor Serati, the Barata Minister of Health, and his secretary for two. "
"Señor Serati is a gentleman I shall be happy to meet. "
"Yes?" she said dubiously. "You know him?"
"No. But I shall be glad to have the opportunity."
She laughed lightly, repeating the tentative "Yes?" and adding: "I don't think many are."
"I am a doctor myself, and am on the way to Barata."
"Doctor? . . . Oh, I see. You mean because he's Minister of Health! It's the health of President Cortez he looks after. I don't think he's much good for anyone's health besides his.
It was a remark from which Enrico concluded, naturally enough, that Señor Serati acted as private medical adviser to his country's ruler. It was a narrow interpretation of the duties of a Minister of Health, but he knew that there is a difference between the political customs of Europe and Central America, which he must be prepared to accept without unfriendly comment if he were to establish himself in his mother's land.
None too soon, Señorita Gomez had reminded herself that she was no longer an irresponsible girl, but the daughter of Bioli's president, and that careless words may be repeated in inflammable ways. She added: "But you won't see either of them. Señor Serati, or so I am told, always prefers to take his meals in his own suite, though there have to be places kept empty here, in case he alters his mind; and his man Pedro never leaves him for more than a few yards. . . . There's a Madame Marthe at your other side. She's the mother of someone important in Argentine. She's not up yet. And the other three are a Chilian envoy to somewhere in Europe, with his wife and a lady cousin. He's returning to Chili on six months' leave. I suppose they'll fly over the Andes. Now you see what a dull lot we are. I should think you'll go back to the doctor's table, and give them another chance there."
Her voice had sunk on the declaration of the dullness of her table companions with the realisation that the three Chilians had entered the room, and were not more than a couple of yards away.
Mutual introduction of some formality followed, and the conversation became general. Before the meal concluded, the Chilian envoy, a brisk, rather consequential man, more concerned to boast the vigour of his receding youth than his diplomatic capacities, had challenged Enrico and Juliana to a deck-tennis contest, with his cousin, a rather bony spinster, as his own partner. His wife. a broadly built, lethargic woman, accepted this arrangement with satisfaction. She went to sleep after lunch herself, which she said was the only sensible thing to do.
The game was new to Juliana, and, at first, experience turned the scale. The Chilians won. But at the end of an hour of keen, good-tempered contest, on a deck which sometimes rolled disconcertingly to a lifting sea, the tide of success turned. The defeated pair, retiring in some exhaustion on the excuse of the tea that the deck-steward was handing round, while their opponents were still fresh in the effrontery of youthful vigour, issued a challenge to a return match. Enrico accepted it for his partner and himself with informal alacrity. Such a partnership may not lead to another of greater permanency, but it is a step on the longer road.
From that time, during the weeks which passed before the Abasco cast anchor outside San Luiz harbour, they became a recognised pair who played together at the deck-sports which were pursued with a more general avidity as the ship steamed under warmer skies, and they were not easy to match. Those who watched assumed that their companionship must come to more than, to Enrico at least, it seemed sure that it would. There would have been little surprise had an engagement been announced. But Enrico found, in spite of all the joyous friendship she gave in a comradeship which was sometimes almost continual from dawn to dusk, that there was a barrier he could not peaceably pass, and he feared to venture the violent assault which must have broken it down, or repulsed him to the loss of all he already had.
He found that he must continue a quiet siege, or risk more than he would be willing to lose.
It may have been a prudence he need not have used. It is certain that Juliana was not indifferent to him. If he did not fill her dreams, it may have been because no recollected dreaming survived from her healthy sleep. That she was gaily baffling to any sentimental approach may have arisen from an instinctive fear that, if she should allow the outer barrier to be broken through, the inner would be too quick to fall. So the days passed.
Although Juliana's instinctive reaction to this sea-voyage friendship was to maintain her own integrity from abrupt surrender, perhaps influenced in this more than she was aware by the warning with which her father had fortified her (for who would wish to do that which has been foretold as a youthful folly into which all young girls who adventure unchaperoned travel will be certain to fall?), another instinct, more fundamental, though perhaps no more conscious in its operation, watched that she should not lose that which she was unready to take.
When Enrico mentioned the long-cherished purpose he had to make his home in his mother's land, where he hoped to find scope for medical practice and research, she was probingly sceptical of the strength of this boyhood's dream. "You will not be long there," she said, "at a good guess. You are too English for that. You will find the people of Barata will not be easy to understand."
But seeing that his purpose was not to be lightly turned, she praised Bioli, as an even fairer, more desirable land.
He was not concerned to deny that. He mentioned that he had actually been born in Bioli, though his mother's country was Barata.
"Well," she said, "you should see both. I suppose you have booked a passage to San Collona?"
"Yes. But that is no matter, if you can tell me a better way."
"There is no shorter way to San Cristoval, if you mean that. But some people leave the ship at San Luiz, and see Bioli first. They go to San Cristoval overland. The railway is good enough. I would not say more. But I have not seen it for five years. It may have improved. It goes up to the mines, and then down on the other side of the river through Barata. . . . It is the way the mountains can best be seen, and the forest, which is still wild. The railway goes inland to the mines, through a forest where there are no roads."
"It is at San Luiz that you will land?"
"Well, of course! But that is no reason for you. I am telling you how the country can best be seen."
"I think it will be an excellent plan."
"I must tell you that you will have to make a short stay in San Sebastian. It may be for no more than a few hours, or it may be for as much as two days or three. It will depend upon when the train starts for the hills. But the palazzo is large. My father will welcome so distinguished a guest. I tell you that because when you land at San Luiz you will be pestered by touts, and might be persuaded to book an hotel from there, which it would be needless to do."
"It is very kind of you to say that. It is an invitation I shall not be likely to refuse or forget."
He spoke with the satisfaction of one who sees a step farther ahead on a doubtful road, but he was still uncertain how much or little this friendly invitation might mean. It might be no more than the hospitality which is often given in a strange land to those who come with well-accredited names. Perhaps, by the customs of Bioli, the only significance would have been in such a word having been left unspoken!
But there was no doubt that he would prefer to approach San Cristoval from Bioli, which had not been his previous intention.
Juliana also was well content. She seemed to have dismissed the subject casually from her mind as she rose hastily from the lunch-table where the conversation had taken place. "If we are quick," she said, "we shall get the quoits before those wretched Alvanzos finish their cigarettes."
CHAPTER IV
APPROACH ON A SUMMER SEA
THE sea was as smooth as glass: the sky was brilliant with tropic stars.
The passengers of the Abasco, after three weeks of segregation from their customary routines and occupations, were beginning to stir restlessly in anticipation of the approaching shore.
Emotional and inexperienced travellers exchanged addresses with those to whom they would not have spoken under conditions other than this enforced propinquity: experienced ones recommended or damned hotels. The sports deck had become neglected, even during the comparatively cool, early morning hours. Those passengers who were disembarking had lined the rails watching for land. Their talk had been of customs' duties, of language difficulties, of stewards' tips. They had exchanged hints regarding cosmetics: they had told fearful legends of insect pests.
Midnight neared as Enrico sat on the upper deck beside two men who, with stretched legs, and glasses beside their hands, engaged in such tentative conversation as affinity of situation, rather than a less superficial congeniality, will allow.
They had, in fact, seen about as little of each other during the past three weeks as had been possible to those who travelled in the same class, Señor Serati and his secretary having remained, even for meals, in the seclusion of his private suite, as he considered necessary to the dignity of a member of the Government of Barata, emerging only in the cool of the evening hours for the air and exercise which even important Ministers of Health of Central American republics are required by Nature to take, during which hours, as most others, Enrico had a companionship more attractive than that of Señor Serati would be likely to prove.
Even at this last opportunity, though having a purpose in what he did, it is unlikely that he would have been seated there had not Juliana retired early to her cabin with an emphatic refusal to reappear till the next day. Could he not understand how much packing she would have to do?
It is pleasant to have a father who will provide sufficient funds for the purchase of twenty frocks before you leave Regent Street indefinitely behind (most of which you don't intend to unpack till you get home, but about which you alter your mind on the way), but it does mean that your packing, even with the help of a willing stewardess, will be a greater nuisance than is that of less fortunate passengers. . . .
"Señor," Enrico asked after a time, having introduced himself an hour before for the sole purpose of this question, "could you tell me whether there would be good prospects for a doctor, with satisfactory English credentials, who should settle in Bioli or Barata?"
The dusk of the tropic night hid the stare of perhaps natural astonishment with which this question was received.
"Señor, do you ask this for yourself, or for a friend whom you may be desirous to help?"
"Oh, for myself! I am hoping to make it my settled home."
For the first time, Señor Serati regarded the young English doctor in a personal manner. He saw it to be a natural question to be addressed to himself, he holding the office of Minister of Health in the country where Dr. Dalston was proposing to practise; though he may have had as little medical knowledge as any man among the Abasco's passengers, his actual duties being those of a Chief of Police, for which office President Cortez, who had a sense of humour, had said: "I have given you the title that you should have, for you can safeguard my health in no better way."
In this ministerial capacity he had become exactly aware of the number of British citizens who had seen reason to settle in Barata. There were three of these, of whom one was the British Consul, and the other two were fugitives from justice, who would not be extradited so long as they had money to spend for his own and his country's good. But why should any English doctor - and especially this one - be anxious to settle there?
The duties of his position might not have familiarised Señor Serati with the details of medical practice, but they had trained him to be alert and accurate in his observations of those about him. This young doctor, of whose wealth he was well aware - for there was little of the ship's gossip which had not been brought by his own body-guard to his private suite - was certainly not a fugitive from indignant law. He had a buoyant manner, not suggestive of one who fled from the scene of a hopeless love. He had a given name which is not commonly heard in the British Isles. He spoke Spanish - a corrupt form of which is the language of Barata - with noticeable fluency and idiom. There was something here of mystery into which a Minister of Health, as President Cortez interpreted the duties of that office, should not omit to enquire, and on which he had, in fact, become fully informed. He avoided direct reply to ask: "It is your first visit to the New World?"
"No. I was born in Bioli. But as I was under three when I was taken to England, you will understand that my recollections are not very useful now."
"Bioli is not Barata."
"Yes. I understand that! I am told that you are neighbours between whom there is little love. But my own preference is for Barata."
"Yet it is in Bioli that you were born, and it is there that you are electing to land?"
"I thought that I would see something of that country first, before travelling inland to San Cristoval."
"But if you like that which you see first, you may change your mind?"
"Oh, no! I shall come. You see, Barata was my mother's land. It is where I have always longed to be, and where I am most likely to settle down. That is, if I find a sufficient welcome for a doctor who is half English, and has been trained in the English schools."
"But - pardon me, Doctor, if I am wrong - to practise your profession is not - how do you say? - is not needful to you?"
"I am not exactly a poor man, if you mean that. But I adopted my profession from choice. It is the first interest that I have. And next to that, it is my wish to make my home in the land that my mother loved, and to which she always hoped to return."
"Well, if you remain of that mind, I daresay you will find practice enough."
Dr. Dalston replied modestly that he hoped he might, but he recognised that the diseases of tropic lands must differ from those of which he had had most experience. He would have developed the conversation from that point, thinking that a Minister of Health should be able to tell him much more that it would be useful to know, but he found Señor Serati to be so vague, or else so startling in his replies, that he concluded, beyond the fact, that he was proposing to enter a land in which the practice of medicine was in a very primitive stage.
He changed the subject slightly to talk of the great debt that European pharmacy owes to the South American continent for a score of its most potent drugs. He suggested that, for one discovered secret of its bewildering flora, there must be a hundred unguessed that the forests hold.
He mentioned a plant of which his mother had told him the name, to which strange virtues were ascribed by Amazonian tribes. He hoped to investigate that.
"Then you must go a thousand miles farther south," Señor Serati replied. "You will find that plant to be as rare as a woman's virtue in Bioli or Barata."
Enrico Dalston was surprised at this disparaging simile, and, being a young and chivalrous man, felt some inclination to resent so general a reflection upon the women both of his mother's land and of that in which Juliana was born. But he considered that Barata was the speaker's own country also, and he did not suppose the comparison to be very seriously intended.
"I suppose," he replied, "you go beyond what you would have me believe when you say that?"
"As to the virtue of the women of Barata? Oh, it is no more than a jesting proverb we have! But I would not say it is widely wrong."
"Perhaps you have been unfortunate in the ladies whose acquaintance you have had the honour to have."
Señor Serati stared for a second time, and the expression of his face was hidden once more by the friendly night. He felt vaguely that he was rebuked, which was an experience he did not lightly endure, and he was genuinely puzzled by a remark which sounded absurd. Surely, if the ladies he had known had been of surrendering moods, unfortunate was not the word, but rather its opposite, which should be applied to his resultant experiences!
"If you would settle in Barata," he said, "you should not omit to call on President Cortez when you arrive. I will recommend you to him. "These words were well enough, but they were spoken abruptly, closing the conversation in a curt manner. Having said them, he addressed his companion: "Come, Pedro. The air chills." Without waiting for Dr. Dalston's reply, he got up. He had decided that he was a young man whom he would not like.
Enrico watched his rather paunchy figure disappear, with the taller Pedro keeping at his side, and yet slightly in the rear, as respect required. He felt that he had spoken foolishly, making a point of that which an Englishman would have passed in silence, or not noticed at all. It was, he supposed, a defect of his mother's blood. Yet defect, in that connection, was a word of which he should not think I And particularly not so at this moment, when he was coming to the longed-for home of his childhood's dreams. Was it not rather the English side of his nature which he must be alert to criticise or subdue? It was a difficult decision, for on the one side was a love that was half a dream, and on the other a more rational pride.
But he was sure of one thing. This Minister of Health, who was so singularly ignorant of the elements of medical science, was a man with whom he had no inclination for more intimate acquaintance. Yet, at the moment, his example was good. He rose, with the lithe, almost panther-like lightness which was a legacy of his mixed blood, and curiously variant from the level steadiness of his voice, and the direct gaze of his English eyes, and went down to his cabin.
CHAPTER V
BIOLI INTENDS WAR?
AS the dawn came, the Abasco lay-to at the entrance of the harbour of San Luiz, which is the best that Bioli has, but yet not deep enough to be entered by a ship of 19,000 tons, nor to give safe anchorage against the force of a north-east gale. Those who landed here must be taken off by a smaller vessel which had bustled out when the lights of the Abasco had been seen far off in the dusk of dawn.
They proceeded inland to San Sebastian, the capital city, by a railway of a wider gauge than that which went from there inland to the mines, and down the Barata side of the estuary to San Cristoval, and on to San Collona, the best port for three hundred miles, either north or south.
Being situated at the mouth of the river which divided the two republics, its possession enabled Barata to levy customs duties upon the metal ore which was the main export of Bioli, even though the undisputed Biolian territory on the northern side of the river was not more than a quarter of a mile away. Yet what, beyond curses, could it be profitable to say? The inhabitants of Bioli were about 300,000 of sundry sorts. Those of Barata were two-thirds of a million. Barata possessed an old destroyer, one more or less airworthy bomber, and two batteries of quick-firing guns. Against these formidable exhibits, Bioli's arsenal was discreetly veiled.
Enrico, being entertained by President Gomez with the hospitality which Juliana had promised, soon had evidence of the bitter feeling which divided the two republics. He had been warmly welcomed for his English nationality, for his birth-claim to Bioli, and perhaps not least for himself. But when he had mentioned his mother's nationality, and his intention of proceeding to Barata, he was met by a reserve, a coldness, or at best an effort to dissuade him which seemed to go beyond the etiquette of hospitality.
Unreluctantly, he accepted a warmly pressed invitation from the President himself that he should at least prolong his visit sufficiently to see what Bioli could offer for his admiration, either of natural beauty or human art. He did this without assurance of how far Juliana might have inspired the invitation, or even approve his extended stay, for since his arrival in San Sebastian she had withdrawn herself from more than the friendly impersonal contacts which she must maintain with any guest in her father's palace.
She may have done this with no further object than to demonstrate to her father's eyes that she had no lively interest in the casual traveller to whom she had shown a courtesy due from the President's daughter to a distinguished stranger who visited Bioli, and who had travelled from England on the same ship as herself. She may have felt that she had her prey so securely hooked that she could afford to slacken the line. She may have been observing no more than the reserve which is considered an obligation of modesty in the tropic countries of the New World. She may have thought that the time had come when Enrico should approach her father rather than herself, if he were serious in the advances which he had already made. He saw that her conduct could be interpreted in many ways, all of which were not unfavourable to him. But he was unsure, and his English training inclined him to arrive at a direct understanding with her before he should ask what he supposed would be no more than the formality of her father's consent.
If she fenced, the strain that was in him from his English blood inclined him to meet her with her own weapons, showing himself as independent as she. It was a position he might not have sustained long, but it led him to accept the fact that her time was filled by many social functions, and that she had come home to find many friends, without showing a resentment which must have brought them closer together at once, or made what might have proved to be a permanent breach.
Watchful of its effect, he mentioned at breakfast-time, which gave the surest opportunity of personal intercourse, it being often taken by her father and herself together with him as the only guest, that the time had come when he must go on to San Cristoval. Already, a forty-eight hours' invitation had been prolonged to three weeks. President Gomez was polite in his regret, and as urgent that he should prolong his visit as the customs of his country's hospitalities required, but not more than that. Juliana was silent. Enrico, who had been irresolute as to whether he should mention his intention of returning to Bioli, decided that silence was best. He had a reward which he might otherwise have missed when Juliana lingered after her father had left the room, and proposed that he should accompany her next morning, when she would ride into the hills, as she often did before the day came to its full heat.
He had asked for this privilege before, and been lightly rebuffed with the suggestion that the conventions of Bioli forbade.
"Yes," he said, "of course I will come. It is what I have asked before."
She did not affect not to understand the meaning of that.
"As you are leaving tomorrow, it can have no significance, even if it be observed at all."
He thought the logic of that remark (if any) to be of the kind which women proverbially prefer. "It may have no significance," he said, "or else much. It will be as you wish."
There was no displeasure in her eyes as she heard this, and as his own met them he may have had his first moment of confidence that the game was won; but she said no more than to arrange the hour, and dismissed him in the casual manner which she had learnt from her years of English life, rather than from the land of her birth; but they were both, though in different degrees, of the Old World rather than the New, from which the incidence of these first contacts came.
Enrico left with a light heart, being conscious of youth and love and a world of sun. Fate, which was to make him the pawn of a grimmer game, allowed him these days of joy, either as an irrelevance with which it would have been paltry to interfere, or as a contributory factor to the event, shaping him into a readier tool for the use of men whose thoughts were on different things.
He hired a good horse, being fortunately a practised rider at a time when many, even of those with means and leisure, prefer the steering-wheel's inferior joys, and was waiting for Juliana at the appointed hour at the cross-roads beyond the city limits where her prudence, real or assumed, had appointed that they should meet.
She led him by ways she knew, far up into the hills, where there was not always space to ride abreast on a narrow path, and they must look first to their horses' feet. There were places which a timid rider would have thought it best to avoid, but they were childhood's custom to her, and there may have been purpose in what she did. They gained wide views of what he could not deny to be a fair land, with San Sebastian a jewel amidst the forest green that flashed white in the sun. He would find that the capital of Barata, on lower ground nearer the sea, would compare poorly with what he saw.
Conversation on such paths must be intermittent, giving time for thought, and it may be no less pregnant for that.
They thought most of themselves, as youth is likely to do, but Enrico had in mind to question her about some words, not meant for him, which he had overheard the evening before, without knowing that her own thoughts were on the same subject, with the urge of a more definite fear.
The words, if he had caught them correctly, which was not easy to doubt, had been spoken between two members of Bioli's government, and they had implied that war between the two countries was very near, and by the choice of the smaller country, rather than as being thrust upon her.
Well, he had thought, such talk will often die down, as he hoped it might, having no wish to find himself in an atmosphere of machine-gun bullets or bursting bombs. He knew this to be true in all parts of the world, and most particularly so, he supposed, of Central America's excitable semi-Latin populations. Bioli was the weaker state, which should alone be sufficient reason for it to avoid beginning a war which it would be unlikely to win; and, in any case, if it were in earnest, why should it defer the opening of hostilities? He had tried to put the question aside, as a matter of uncertain and probably small significance. He hoped - and indeed expected - that he should find Barata good-humouredly oblivious of that which its superior strength could safely contemn. It had the coveted harbour, the men, the aeroplane, the guns. Let Bioli talk of what it would do on another day, if it could find satisfaction in that!
Yet he remembered the hostility to Barata which was latent in every reference he heard, and, perhaps most significant of all, the attitude toward himself which any allusion to his own ties with that land, or intention of settling there, would provoke. He considered what his position toward Juliana would be if war should break out after he had gone. He felt that there was something more than imagination behind his fear, which it might be vital for him to learn.
But, if that were true, he thought that Juliana would know. He had already observed evidences that President Gomez had a great reliance upon his daughter's loyalty and discretion. Young as she was, inexperienced, and having been absent from Bioli during the last five years, it was improbable that he would consult her as one having valuable counsel to give; but she had the confidences of a lonely man.
And he felt sure that there could be no movement of any political importance of which President Gomez would not be aware. Politically, he was Bioli, ruling with an ill-defined, but almost absolute power. He was said to be of an established popularity, and to control his tiny state with an integrity which, if it would not be conspicuous in a more stable world, was above the standard that Latin-American presidents usually observe.
Enrico knew nothing of the ceaseless vigilance, the skilful opportunism, the sometimes ruthlessness by which, for fifteen uneasy years, President Gomez had maintained that unconstitutional temporary throne. But he was right in concluding that, apart from his decision, Bioli could have no plan or purpose of war.
"I heard," he said, as they drew abreast on a level ridge which gave a wide view on the one hand of close-forested hills that fell away to the distant sea, and on the other to yet more distant mountains which, even in that tropic land, were whitened with year-long snow, "something rather startling last night. I heard someone talk as though war between Bioli and Barata were certain to come."
"There can be few views in the whole world equal to this," she answered, as though she had not heard his remark, which he knew she had, as the next moment showed. He thought there had been a conscious effort at self-control, or the need to decide how she should foil his curiosity, before she replied with the monosyllabic query: "Who?"
"You mean who said it? I don't know that I ought to tell that. I may not have overheard correctly, and, in any case, the words were not meant for me."
She looked more offended than she may have felt as she answered: "You hear words of such a nature as that, and you will not tell me by whom they were said! Are you for Bioli or Barata?"
He answered with the bluntness of irritation, and the certainty that he had stumbled upon a political secret of some importance: "But, pardon me, that is absurd! Cannot I be friendly with both? Or will you tell me that they are already at war?"
She looked at him, longing to say that which she did not dare. She had meant to warn him, or to persuade him not to go to San Cristoval, and he had made this easy to do, showing that he had heard something of that which she had rightly supposed that he had not guessed, and now the desire to hold her lover warred against loyalty to her father and to her land.
"Have you thought," she said, "that we are far weaker than Barata? That if they should hear a tale that we are thinking of war, it might be excuse to attack us in the next hour?"
"I don't see why they should attack you at all. What grievance can they have?"
"They have none. The grievance is ours. President Cortez grows rich on the customs he levies upon our ore. It is what will - " she checked herself, and altered to "would not last for a week if our strength were equal to theirs."
"So that they might easily be led to suppose that you plan a sudden attempt?"
"I did not say that. They have always regarded us as too weak to be a menace to them. But I meant that you might do more harm than you would expect if you should repeat such talk as that when you are in Barata. You might start something you could not stop."
"You can be sure I shall not do that. When I am there I shall say nothing of what I have heard or seen while I have been your guest, for it is plain that you are not friends."
At this point of the conversation, Juliana turned her horse to a downhill path, intending to ride home by another way than that by which they had come. It was a narrow, precipitous descent, where he must follow with care, yet trusting his horse's judgment more than his own, it being familiar with that which was strange to him.
Conversation paused, leaving neither content. Juliana had his assurance that the indiscretion he had overheard would not be repeated in Barata. From her point of view, there was much in that for her country, but not for herself.
To him, her anxiety for that assurance had brought a puzzled conviction that he had heard no more than the truth, and that Bioli was planning war. Yet the idea had a fantastic sound. He knew enough of the relative strength of the two republics for it to appear a desperate resort. He had heard of no dispute between them beyond this standing grievance, which they had found it possible to endure for several previous years. Most puzzling of all, he had seen no warlike preparations of any kind, and though his observation had not been alert for so improbable a development, he did not think it possible that much could have occurred without his knowledge while he had been the President's guest. He knew that Bioli's regular army, if it could be dignified by that name, was of a nominal strength of 800 men. It was no more than a gaily uniformed presidential guard. Besides that, there was an armed police force, the strength of which was not publicly known. But it was scattered over the country, and its total could not be great. Considering these facts, the whole idea seemed absurd.
He remembered having seen the President and Señor Philipo, the envoy of Barata, in what had appeared to be a friendly, even jocular conversation, only two days before. He knew enough of diplomatic usage to attach no great importance to that. But the fact remained that he could observe nothing to justify the idea either that Bioli was about to make an attack upon her more powerful neighbour, or that it would be an act of sanity to attempt. He considered that Juliana's youthful inexperience might dispose her to take seriously that which a sounder judgment would discredit, but even this explanation did not satisfy him, perhaps because he understood her too well to believe that she would be so lightly influenced. And if hostilities should be actually about to begin, in which country would he wish to be? He was not doubtful of his answer to that.
As though she had read his mind, Juliana said, as he came to her side again on a level path: "If you believed this silly talk you have heard, would it make no difference to you? Would you still be going to Barata?"
The question was put so lightly, so teasingly, that he could not tell whether it were seriously meant, or she were using the talk of war as a counter in the game of love which he was more than willing that she should play. He answered in the same vein: "I should not go, if you were to ask me to stay."
"It is nice of you to say that! But you have not answered what I asked."
"No? I thought I had. Perhaps I may make no more than a short visit to Barata."
"How long do you mean by that?"
"Perhaps a week. Perhaps two."
"It would not be more?"
There was an earnestness in this question which seemed excessive for what it asked, but it showed an interest in his movements which he was not likely to mind. "It need not be more. Do you ask me to promise that?"
"I have no right. Shall you come back here, or return to England direct?"
"You know I am not intending to return to Europe at all. I will come back here, if I am asked."
She looked at him with laughing eyes. "What can I answer to that? I must ask you now, or be rude to a friend, and my father's guest! We shall be most glad to see you again."
"Then you can be sure that I shall be here."
"In two weeks from now?"
"In not more than that."
"And you will forget the silly talk that you overheard, or perhaps misunderstood?"
"I shall not repeat it, if you mean that."
"I am sure you will not."
She turned the conversation next moment in other ways, as one having a carefree mind, nor was there any further allusion to the subject of war with Barata before he left on the San Cristoval train. He remained in doubt as to what the truth might be, but he felt that she had attached an importance to the limit of his visit to Barata which suggested a fear, if not a certain knowledge, that there would be trouble between the two countries at a near date. Could she really know that there would be an outbreak of war in the coming month? Or that it would certainly not be within fourteen days? Or had she merely made excuse of what he thought he had overheard to lead the conversation in such a direction that she could obtain his assurance that he would be returning to Bioli?
It was hard to guess. But it was clear, on whatever explanation, that she took an interest in his movements, and would welcome his return to Bioli; and that mattered even more to the egotism of youth than whether the two countries were on the threshold of war.
CHAPTER VI
THE CURTAIN RISES ON THE EVENT
IT was on the day of Enrico's arrival at San Cristoval, the capital city of Barata, which is ten miles inland from the port of San Collona, that a conversation took place in President Cortez's private room, which he would have been interested to hear, though he would have been unlikely to guess how personal its issues would ultimately become.
It was a conversation which had proceeded to a restrained and courteous acrimony among three agitated and angry men.
Señor Philipo, a diplomat small and neat, suave of manner, exact of speech, who held the office of Barata's envoy at San Sebastian, had left his post two days before, to make personal report to his President of that which he would not trust to the written word, and it was not pleasant to hear.
Three months earlier, he had obtained secret information that Bioli had dispatched a mission to the British Government, soliciting a licence for the export of munitions of war sufficient to enable it to feel secure from the armaments of its more powerful neighbour; and, on learning this, President Cortez had sent his own Minister of Health in the same direction, with instructions to oppose the granting of such a licence, or alternatively, to solicit for his own country the privilege of making similar purchases to an equal value.
From this mission Señor Serati had returned with no better report than that the rebuff he had received had been impartially administered to Bioli also, the British Government saying, with what had appeared to be a polite finality, that it was against its considered policy to supply the means of mutual destruction to the bellicose republics of the New World.
But now it appeared that the issue was worse than that. After Señor Serati had left, the prolonged importunity of Bioli's representative, by whatever argument, had prevailed. It was at least a fact that the moving eloquence with which he had portrayed the defenceless and precarious existence of Bioli beside its better-armed and more populous southern neighbour, had resulted in the issue of a permit to purchase munitions of war to a sufficient amount to place the two republics on an equality of military power.
And the sequel appeared to be even more ominous of approaching trouble. Partly, perhaps, because Bioli's unscrupulous representative may have described the armaments of Barata as being more considerable than they actually were, and partly because the value of guns of the newest patterns could not easily be assessed against those which had been second-hand when they had been purchased eight years before, the weapons of destruction, which were even now being loaded upon the cargo-boat, Billy Winch, at a London dock, would be sufficient to give the army of Bioli what might be no less than a decisive advantage upon the field of battle, and would certainly give its President confidence to commence hostilities.
Indeed, Señor Philipo's information was that an ultimatum requiring the cession of San Collona, and a drastic revision of the customs dues levied upon Bioli's mineral wealth for its use of the only available railway, had already been prepared for presentation, as soon as the expected cargo should have arrived.
"We must not wait for that," President Cortez said. "We must find a pretext for instant war."
"So we should," Señor Philipo agreed. "But it may not be easy to do."
"Especially," Señor Serati added, "as they will be most careful neither to give nor resent offence till the arms will have arrived."
They gazed at one another in silent consideration of a difficulty not easily to be overcome. They had no grievance against their weaker neighbour. The disputed harbour was in their possession. Should they attack at once with no better excuse than the assertion that they had learned that Bioli had a similar intention at a more opportune time? It would be hard to prove. It might not be believed! And they knew that, in whatever they might do, they must save their face to the world.
This was a matter of special importance to a small maritime Central American republic intending war, for they had always to regard the possible overwhelming intervention of the United States.
Against such interference being capriciously exercised, their only protection, apart from the declared policy of that country itself, lay in the common jealousy of the other republics of Central and South America. But if the fact should appear to be that they were making unprovoked attack against a weaker neighbour, they might find themselves without even diplomatic support against such an eventuality. But they would be in a very different position if Bioli should have acted in a manner provoking war.
"And the time," Señor Serati reflected, "is very short."
"It is not a matter," the President said, "which can be left to chance, or allowed delay. They must commit an outrage upon us during the next week."
"Perhaps," Señor Philipo suggested, "they might sink one of our ships."
The suggestion had a good sound, for the United States, with its own history in mind, could not possibly regard such an incident as an insufficient occasion for war. But President Cortez frowned. The navy of Barata was not so numerous that he could contemplate a reduction without regret. A man - even one of his own ministers - could be more cheerfully spared.
"No," he said, "it would be hard to fix it on them. It would tax belief. Have they a submarine? Or even a torpedo-boat that could put to sea? Or a bomber to take the air? . . . It is assassination that it must be."
Señor Serati asked: "How would you charge that to them? They would deny it vehemently. And it would appear an unlikely thing for them to have done. They would demand that an enquiry be held. Would it be a good cause that we should commence war on the next day?"
"That," the President replied, "would depend upon the circumstances surrounding the crime. It must occur in their own land. It must be - - " Here he paused, looking at Señor Philipo, and his paunch shook with an inward mirth. "It must be our envoy in San Sebastian. There could be no provocation greater than that!"
Señor Philipo controlled himself to a slight smile.
"Your Excellency," he said, "will always jest."
"Señor Philipo," the President replied, with sobriety in his voice, "it is a sacrifice for your country which it would be to your honour to make."
"It is a sacrifice we should regret," Señor Serati added politely, "but the project is sound - unless, of course, you can think of a better plan."
The diplomat listened to these arguments with an expressionless face. "It might be even better," he suggested, "that it should be one of your more excellent and important selves."
"It is a sacrifice," the Minister of Health somewhat sourly replied, "which I should not refuse to make. But I can see that it would be vain. I am hated by too many criminals here. No one would believe that I had not been assassinated by the malcontent of our own land."
"The crime," President Cortez decided, avoiding more direct condemnation of the treasonous suggestion that Señor Philipo had made, "must be committed in San Sebastian. There is nothing plainer than that."
"You could visit there."
"The visits of Presidents are not so casually made. It would take time to arrange - and that is what we have not got."
"You could create a precedent of informality."
"And it would be said that I had brought it upon myself: that their police had had no reasonable opportunity to arrange for safeguarding my life, as they would have been active to do."
Señor Philipo could not dispute that. "It is soundly argued," he said, showing his usual diplomatic adroitness in this reply, "and you are also one we could not afford to lose. Beyond that, I can now see that you are right both as to where the crime must occur, and that it must be the envoy of Barata who shall perish, to give the event the importance which we require.
"It is therefore a sacrifice I should not decline, but that I should inflict on my country too great a loss. For, if we go to war, I have a knowledge of Bioli which will be of great value to you. So I will sacrifice myself in a better way. I will resign, so that the appointment may be given to one who will be a smaller loss to Barata and less trouble to you." And, as he heard this, Señor Serati had an idea.
CHAPTER VII
ENRICO DALSTON IS REASONABLY SURPRISED
ENRICO arrived at San Cristoval with a divided mind. It was a fair, white-stoned city, green-cinctured by tropic woods, looking down upon the disputed port, ten miles away, itself a flashing seaside jewel of sand and sun. It was his mother's dream that, with the coming of years of freedom, he would make his home.
But Bioli also had been a fair land, and San to be preferred, even by one whose mother had come of a tropic blood. He had been disposed to remember in the last three weeks, as he had not done previously, that it was there, and not in Barata, that he had been born.
He recalled the jesting words in which Juliana had described the actual functions of Barata's Minister of Health, with some advice as to his own procedure in establishing himself professionally, when he had first told her of the object with which he was going to Barata. "He is not a man." she had said. "who will do anything for you unless he be paid. If you should need his aid in earnest, you would do well to talk to his man, Pedro, who walks behind. He will tell you what Serati will do, and will name the price. At least, that is the talk I have heard. . . . But, at the last, it is President Cortez who will decide.
"If Cortez says you can practise in Barata, you will hear nothing of any law of a contrary kind. You can be sure that there will be none that anyone will be gauche enough to recall. And if he says that he would like you better if you were farther away, all the laws of Barata will be no protection to you."
He had no longer the same intention, or, at least, not immediately, of establishing himself professionally in Barata, but he decided that, after spending the remainder of his first day in a leisurely inspection of San Cristoval, he would call upon President Cortez early on the following morning. It was as the sun was low that he came back to the Hotel of the Seven Saints, and was surprised to find a police-officer seated in his private room, who informed him, not without some display of Latin politeness, that he must consider himself under arrest, on a charge that he was a foreign spy.
The accusation sounded so grotesque in its utter baselessness that he found it difficult to regard it seriously. "That," he said, "is absurd."
"I only arrived this morning," he added inconsequently, "from San Sebastian."
"Yes, from Bioli," the police-officer agreed, with a sinister look in his yellow eyes.
Enrico saw that he had said the wrong thing. But what right thing could there be to say in refutation of that which had no substance at all?"
I am a British subject," he tried again, " - a doctor, travelling on pleasure. I have no connection with your politics. None at all."
"I cannot discuss that. I know only that I have a warrant for your arrest."
The man rose as he spoke. It seemed that his politeness was wearing thin.
"I suppose I can ring up the British envoy?"
"That would be for the President to decide. In the first place, you must come with me."
"Should I bring my luggage?"
"I have no instructions on that. I should say you must leave it here."
"Then where is it that you want me to come?"
"It is to the Presidency that I have to take you. I cannot say beyond that."
That was the first good word he had heard. He had seen the jail, and its odour had been more than sufficient from the outside. But if he were to be taken immediately before someone of sufficient authority - and presumably of intelligence - to deal with whatever accusation had been made against him, it was likely that this exasperating annoyance might soon be over.
"Well," he said, "under protest, I will come with you; but it is an outrage which it will be hard to explain away."
The police-officer said nothing to that. He led the way from the room, and down to the entrance-hall, where two carbined policemen fell in behind, and they all entered a waiting car, the panels of which bore the two snakes which form Barata's not inappropriate crest.
Puzzling, while they drove to the Presidency, over this astonishing interference with his personal liberty, he came to the conclusion that it was a blackmailing plot that he would most probably have to meet, and he resolved to resist it with the stubbornness which he had inherited from his father's blood. He recalled his conversation with Barata's "Minister of Health" three weeks before, and the allusion which Señor Serati had made on that occasion to his reputation for wealth, and he concluded that he had to thank that gentleman's unscrupulous ingenuity for his present experience. It was a surmise which neither did any injustice to the Minister of Health, nor erred widely in regard to the nature of his arrest, but the purpose for which he was required was more subtle than any from which a cheque-book could bring him free.
CHAPTER VIII
MAGNANIMITY OF PRESIDENT CORTEZ
DR. DALSTON was conducted to a room that was high and cool. It opened upon a balcony which looked down upon the city, with some more distant view of the river and the disputed shore. It was not a setting which suggested judicial severities, being, in fact, the President's private lounge.
He saw three men there, of whom he knew two. There was Señor Serati, with whom he had parted on the Abasco's deck: Señor Philipo, with whom he had talked at a presidential reception in San Sebastian only three days before: and President Cortez, with whose newspaper photographs he was sufficiently familiar to make a correct guess at his identity.
The President, rolling his bulk in a padded chair, looked at the prisoner who had been brought before him with a good-humoured curiosity, rather than the hostility which would be natural in regarding a foreign spy. He asked: "You are Doctor Enrico Dalston?"
"Yes. I must protest - - "
"Pardon, Señor!" The President's voice was sharp and authoritative in interruption. "In a moment, I will listen to what you may have to say. But first you will answer me. . . . You are not armed?"
"No. "
"I accept your word." The President's gesture was gracious. "Captain Manuel, you will retire, but remain at call."
On this order, the little escort withdrew. The President waved his hand to a chair. "There is no reason you should not sit."
Enrico took the indicated chair. He looked at three men who seemed in less haste to talk than he was himself, and the idea that he had been brought there to be blackmailed hardened to a conviction. He said firmly: "I should have waited upon your Excellency tomorrow morning, as Señor Serati here had recommended that I should do, but I did not expect that I should be brought here in this outrageous manner."
The President's eyes narrowed. "You were brought here," he said, "on my order, and with all consideration that the occasion allowed. You came here from Bioli, I understand?"
"Yes. There is surely no crime in that."
"You are a' native of that country?"
"Only so far that I was born there."
"And Bioli is talking of war with us?"
"If it be so, it is no matter of mine. I am English, that being my father's race."
"And you learned our language from him?"
"My mother was of this country."
"It is among those of such mixed ancestry that spies are most commonly found."
"I told Señor Serati that it was to this country that I intended to come, and to settle here. He will bear witness to that."
He said this less because he regarded it as a point of importance than to test whether the Minister of Health would give a straightforward reply, which he did not expect to hear. But Señor Serati was frank and ready in his response. "That was how I understood it to be."
"Then is it likely I should come here to play the spy? I am a stranger to both countries. I would be friendly to both. I come to practise my own profession." He had almost added: "I am a wealthy man. What could tempt me to such folly?" But he considered that it might be his wealth that they sought to share, and it might be an assertion it would be wiser to avoid. He considered also that, so far, there had not been even a pretence of accusation against him. Nothing more than the suggestion that it was among such as he that spies were found, which amounted to nothing at all. But President Cortez appeared to be satisfied with his reply.
"Listen to me, Doctor Dalston," he said, with the grave dignity which he had cultivated for such occasions. "Señor Philipo has come here bringing report that you visited San Sebastian, and were taken into the immediate confidence of President Gomez, in a very singular manner. And after visiting him you I come here. We know that Bioli is plotting war, and that they have England's help. You admit that you were born in Bioli, and that you are half English yourself. Can we doubt what has brought you here?"
Listening to this ingenious construction of circumstances with some of which he was familiar, and of which others had a more doubtful sound, Dr. Dalston had his first doubt of whether there might not really be a suspicion against himself, and he was fair enough to recognise that the reason he had given for coming to Barata, true though it was, might not have a very plausible sound to a sceptical ear. He answered seriously: "I cannot say what Bioli's intentions may be. I was entertained socially, with more kindness than I have met here, but I was not concerned with their politics, of which I heard no more than the most casual talk. But when you say that England is helping them to make war upon you, I am quite sure you are wrong."
"You will say, perhaps, that you have not heard of a cargo-boat named the Billy Winch?"
"No, I shouldn't say that. "He had almost added a further word which might have changed subsequent events in a radical manner, and perhaps saved the lives of more than one who sat there, but a natural caution held him silent, and the President's questions went on.
"You mean that you know the boat?"
"Yes."
"As one flying the English flag?"
"Yes."
"And that it has just left the port of London with a cargo of munitions of war?"
"No. I know nothing of that."
The President did not challenge this denial. He accepted it with a silent gravity. After a pause which appeared to be pregnant with judgment, he said:
"Doctor Dalston, I am disposed to accept your word, and if I do that, I must allow that we have done you an indignity for which reparation must be generously made.
"I do not often own I am wrong, but, when I do, it is to compensate with an open hand. I cannot insult you with gold, which you do not need. I will make a proposition which may surprise you at first, but I will ask you not to reject it until it has been fully discussed."
"I will promise that."
"You have said that you would be friendly both with Bioli and Barata?"
"Yes. That is how I feel."
"You would avert war, if you could?"
"Yes, I certainly would. "
"So would we. We have much to lose. We have nothing to gain. Would you be our envoy at San Sebastian in place of Señor Philipo, whose health will not allow of the prompt return that the occasion requires?"
Enrico would have said that he was prepared for any possible development after the way in which he had been brought to that room and the conversation which had taken place. He looked upon the three whose eyes were fixed so intently upon himself as no more than powerful and unscrupulous rogues, in which he may not have been widely wrong; and he had not expected to leave that room without learning the method by which they proposed that his wealth should be exploited by them. He had been prepared for almost anything - except what he heard. For a moment, his surprise was beyond control. Then he ordered his thoughts for a reply: "It is an honour for which I must thank you, whether I feel able to accept it or not. And I will not forget that I have promised not to refuse it until it has been discussed. But do you think that I, a stranger, can be fitted for such a post, and at such a time? Or can you trust me so far, having doubted me as you have?"
President Cortez waved a hand that dismissed doubt. He became somewhat grandiloquent in his reply, though there was more reason in his final words than the Englishman had expected to hear.
"But you must understand that I do not doubt you at all! Had I done so, you would have been shot in the next hour. But I have a judgment that I can trust. Now I think to right a wrong into which I have been led by a lying tale. . . . But, if you think, you will see that all I risk is not much. For if you return to San Sebastian it is certain that you cannot betray us, for you will have had no opportunity of learning anything which it would be useful to Gomez to know. And even if you should be friendly to him, you may have the more potent voice to persuade him to peace, which is what we seek.
"But should you fail, or should you even make no such attempt, we shall have lost nothing at all, for it is a matter in which it is sure that Señor Philipo would not succeed. He would have less chance than one who comes from a neutral land, and can say that he is friendly to all. . . . And I do not doubt that you are sincere, and will do all you can, which may be of great service to us."
Enrico listened to this, which had a plausible sound. He was not sure that he was not being shown the bait of a cunning trap, but he could not see what it could be, and it occurred to him that if these were men whom he should not trust, he could hardly do better than accept an offer which would enable him to return to Bioli, where he could stay if he would, and resign the office when he should be out of reach of the policemen of Barata.
"It is," he said, "a great surprise that I should have the offer of such a post, and I am far from confident of what I can do. But it is a matter that you should judge better than I, and if you ask me seriously I will not decline."
"Then you will be doing, "the President answered with gravity, "a great favour to us, and a great service to Barata."
CHAPTER IX
BREAKFAST TABLE AT SAN SEBASTIAN
JULIANA was late for breakfast, having taken an hour's ride in the hills as the dawn rose, and President Gomez was earlier than his custom, having had an anxious and wakeful night, so that, when she entered, his meal was almost done.
"You look more worried than ever," she said, as she kissed her father affectionately, "and I can't see why you should. You've got everything moving just as you planned, and I should have thought that you might look just a bit pleased."
"I've been President of Bioli for fifteen years, and I'm not dead yet. The longest time that any previous president lived was four years and a day. If I hadn't worried, do you suppose I should be sitting here now?"
"Yes. I expect you would. You're the best President Bioli has ever had, and they've got the sense to know when they're well off."
"It hasn't been quite as simple as that. . . . It's been partly because they've had something else to hate. There's been the quarrel with Barata. I haven't ever let them forget that. But it has got beyond control in the end. I had to make a move, which I wasn't anxious to do."
"Well, you've got the arms, anyhow. You've won the first trick."
"They're not landed yet."
"But they're on the way in a good boat. That's much the same thing. You don't think Barata'd try sinking an English ship, even if it knew howl"
"Probably not. Though I've not overlooked that. I've no doubt Cortez would try it on if he dared. But you mayn't be far wrong when you say if they knew how. I don't suppose they've got a torpedo that's less than six years old, or a man who's fired one since rather longer than that. . . . But I have to watch everything. And especially what I don't understand.
"I knew it meant trouble when Philipo slipped away; and I had some very queer news from San Cristoval last night. Very puzzling indeed."
Having said this, President Gomez paused, as though a fresh idea had suddenly come to his mind, so that it obstructed the current of what he had been meaning to say. He added, with apparent inconsequence: "I've thought you looked rather worried at times yourself during the last few days."
"Worried? I?" Juliana's large dark eyes opened in genuine surprise. "I wouldn't say I've got a care in the world, apart from anything troubling you. "
"Well, say you've had something - or someone - more or less on your mind. Enrico Dalston for a first guess."
There was a faint carmine tinge on Juliana's olive cheek as she replied with apparent frankness: "Oh, you meant him? He wasn't bad. He'll be here again soon, more likely than not. I'm not losing weight for him, if you mean that."
"He'll be here tomorrow."
"Tomorrow! Then he's soon finished with Barata! But you're surely not worrying over that?"
The girl looked some surprise but no displeasure at this information, and then her brows drew to a puzzled frown. Had her father reason to think that she was the attraction which was bringing him so suddenly back? And, if so, why should he be worried? Had he not always said that she should make her own choice, without interference from him? And, even for a President's daughter, Dr. Dalston, wealthy, cultured, young, handsome as he was, and half of their Latin blood, could hardly be regarded as an unsuitable selection for her to make.
But the doubt was lost in a surprise of greater magnitude at her father's next words: "He is coming back as Barata's accredited envoy to us."
"But I thought that Señor Philipo - - !"
"He has resigned, and Doctor Dalston is appointed to take his place."
"And that must all have been arranged while he was here!"
It certainly did have that appearance. It seemed impossible that it could have been arranged, without previous discussion, in the few hours that had followed his arrival in Barata. Señor Philipo must surely have left his post in anticipation that Doctor Dalston would relieve him of it. It gave an aspect almost of duplicity to the promise that he had made, that he would see her again at no distant day.
Or - after all, there had been his duty to Barata, if it had been a secret that he must not speak! Would it not be fairer to say that he had shown diplomatic reticence of a high order, giving her no hint of the truth, and yet allowing her to anticipate that she might soon see him again? But, even so, everything he had said must be recalled and reconsidered in the light of this startling - and inexplicable - development.
Inexplicable - that was the correct, and, to President Gomez, the disquieting word. For he had found that the inexplicable were usually the dangerous things, and that was especially so when they originated in Barata.
It was true that the fact was not in itself of a sinister complexion, but there was little comfort in that. A sinister move that could be recognised for what it was might be met and foiled on its own ground. But if you could not understand - - !
Meanwhile Juliana had recalled some parting words which appeared far from ingenuous on the lips of a man who had expected to return in such a capacity in a few days' time. Suppose he had been making a jest - even a tool - of her? Small sharp teeth showed at the thought on a bitten lip. But her tone was cheerful as she echoed her father's words: "Yes, we must see what he has to say."
CHAPTER X
ATTITUDE OF PRESIDENT GOMEZ
DR. ENRICO DALSTON, Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to the Republic of Bioli, travelled in state. The smaller American republics are jealous of a dignity which, if they should fail in self-assertion, might not be observed by others. He travelled, in fact, in the President's private train, which consisted of a luxurious suite for the use of President Cortez and his immediate attendants, and another carriage for the armed guard which his safety, as well as his pomp, required. A pilot engine went ahead, which had proved to be a useful precaution on a previous occasion.
There was a separate reason for the use of the presidential train in the fact that it had free running rights over a railway which was owned by a foreign syndicate, which had its head offices in New Orleans. Its use effected a saving of about 15,000 pesos to a treasury which was seldom full.
The railway did not enter at once into Bioli's territory. It did not strike directly for San Sebastian. It commenced its course up the southern bank of the dividing river. For this river, as it neared the sea, opened to a breadth which would have discouraged any project of bridging it, even had the relations of the two republics been more cordial, and their exchanges more considerable.
But farther inland the character of the Aver changed. It flowed between narrow cliffs, in a swift torrent, from a mountainous land. Here it was bridged, and the railway entered Bioli, but still struck upward into the hills, for its goal was less Bioli's capital than Bioli's mines, and its most remunerative traffic was the ore which was brought down to be shipped, for its German owners, from San Collona, the sea-port of Barata.
Thirty miles within Bioli's territory, there was a junction where a line branched backward for San Sebastian, but even had the latter port been suitable for shipment of the ore, it would have been impossible to arrange, for the railway had been built under a binding contract that the traffic of the mines should be carried to San Collona.
Enrico Dalston considered these matters in a mind that was pleasantly distracted at times by the outer wonders of what he saw. For the rail, as it left the coast, entered an untamed land, wildly magnificent in its scenery, and clothed in virgin forests which, in some places, must be continually hacked away to maintain a clear track for the trains. He concluded that the position was not one which Bioli was likely to accept for a longer time than it might feel under compulsion to do. Possibly President Cortez might be making no more than a statesmanlike anticipation of the inevitable, with a wisdom which those in the seats of power too seldom possess.
For the fact was that he had given his new envoy a most generous freedom of negotiation - indeed, so generous that an older and more cynical diplomat might have found it more difficult to believe that it could be genuinely meant. He was to bid for peace, and for Bioli's goodwill, and, to gain that, he might offer reduction of the present customs duties, even to 50 per cent., at which figure it could be argued that it would be actually more profitable to use San Collona than Bioli's far inferior port.
Was it surprising that Enrico Dalston, come to this amazing eminence, this splendid opportunity, in a single week, did not dwell upon the disastrous possibilities which are the continual shadow of human fate, or the precarious tenure of life, particularly in Latin lands, but saw himself as the destined saviour and reconciler of the two sister republics from which his own existence derived?
Certainly - as President Cortez might not have failed to reflect - if he should meet with misadventure in a land to which he came on so magnanimous a mission, it would be a crime of ingratitude to appeal to the whole civilised world. And when the victim would be an English citizen, young, generous, inexperienced, what hope of tolerant sympathy would Bioli have? If Barata should be swift to chastise her as she would deserve, who would be hardy to intervene? What but further proof of Bioli's nefarious plotting would it be thought, when it should be disclosed that she had a deadly cargo already upon the seas?
Oblivious of such considerations as these, Enrico imagined facile conversations with Bioli's President in which he would offer, in a spirit of conciliation, all or more than might be won by the doubtful hazard of war.
Vaguely, he looked ahead to a time when he might himself be the accepted ruler of Barata - with the daughter of President Gomez at his side to unite the sympathies of the once-hostile lands. Might he not at last unite them in fact, to a greater strength, a higher destiny, than either could hope to attain alone?
Might he not even go on to further missions of reconciliation and federation, until the whole of South and Central America should become of one single impregnable strength, to which even the United States must defer, as would be pleasant to see?
It did not appear beyond reasonable expectation after what had happened already, that he, with his father's stability of character and capacity for organisation, and his mother's blood, might be the destined protagonist of so great a task.
Bioli and Barata might be inconsiderable now, both in population and wealth, but their undeveloped resources were quite a different matter, and here again he could be powerful to intervene. The fortune that he had inherited from his father was not less than £1,200,000, even after the huge portion claimed by the English Treasury had been lopped away.
Dreaming thus, he saw the gleaming, sun-drenched roofs of San Sebastian, which he had left reluctantly so few days before. He drove in the luxurious car which had been Señor Philipo's and had become his, to the Legation of which he was now the head, and after a night's rest (for it had been evening when he arrived) he set out to pay the formal call upon President Gomez which the occasion required. . . .
President Gomez received the new envoy of Barata alone, and with an absence of formality which might be taken in divers ways. Subtle though he was, he did not suspect the plot which was intended to lead to the destruction of Bioli and his own incidental ruin (not that he would have accepted incidental as an appropriate word). His mind went no further on the track of the truth than to perceive that there was something here which he could not guess, and concerning which he must therefore be alert both to discover and to avoid.
It was not his policy of the moment to seek occasion of quarrel either with Dr. Dalston or Barata, yet Enrico, even in the first exchanges of mutual civility, was sensible of a different atmosphere from that which had prevailed so pleasantly during his earlier visit.
It was not that he was able to observe an inferior courtesy. Rather, if possible, he was met with a greater scrupulosity of politeness. Nor was there any failure in cordiality. President Gomez had a charm of manner which was lacking in the ruler of Barata, and this he did not fail to exhibit to one who was both the wealthy Englishman whom his daughter approved, and the accredited envoy of the neighbour republic. But there was an undertone of formality, a reduction of spontaneity, a watchfulness which no technique of courtesy, however practised, could entirely hide. Enrico felt uncomfortably that every word he now said would be measured and weighed, perhaps held to contain significances which he had not meant. How was he, utterly inexperienced in diplomatic exchanges, to acquit himself in this unfamiliar duel?
Wisely, he decided to disclaim a weapon he was untrained to use, and to speak with the simple sincerity which was consonant equally with the impulses of his own nature and the generosity of the instructions he had received.
Endeavouring to lead the conversation to a more real interest than the health of the bulky President of 8arata, he said abruptly: "I hope that the Señorita is well?"
"I am happy to assure you that she is in excellent health."
"I may hope to have the great pleasure of paying my respects to her before I leave?"
"I regret that she is out riding this morning. She will be desolated that it has so unfortunately occurred."
Enrico felt vaguely rebuffed. And he did not fail to observe that Juliana must have known that he had returned to Bioli, and at least anticipated his present call. But he went on to disclose the purpose with which he came, and to use the frankness his instinct urged.
"Excellency," he said, "may I speak to you without reserve, as my inexperience in this office which I have been so unexpectedly asked to accept renders it easiest for me to do?"
I understand that there has been unfriendly feeling between these two countries to which I am almost equally bound by ties either of birth or blood; and I was most surprisingly asked to undertake this appointment, to negotiate a new era of friendship, such as must be advantageous to both. Should I find myself useless for that, I have already resolved that I will resign that which it is probable that I should have been wiser not to accept.
"I will say at once that I am empowered to recognise that there are grievances which must be faced, and to concede much, if it will be accepted with the goodwill which I bring to you."
President Gomez heard this with an expression of smiling courtesy which did not change, and, though his mind became busy with many thoughts, there was no sign of hesitation in his reply.
"You speak," he said, "with a goodwill which I do not doubt, and your words are such as I gladly hear. But will you tell me, with the same frankness as you have already shown, whether you are assured in your own mind that there is such sincerity or goodwill in the hearts of those whose instructions you have received? For you will see that very much will depend on that."
Faced by this question, Enrico had opportunity to observe how dangerous the path of frankness may become, if it be followed too far. He would have liked to reply: "If I know anything of my fellow-men, I had my instructions from three of the most unscrupulous rogues that I ever met. "He used sufficient, though reduced truth when he said: "You will not ask me to give opinions upon those whom you have known much longer than I. You will consider that I was in San Cristoval for no more than a few hours. But I am empowered to offer you something more substantial than words. Could there be any object in authorising me to negotiate terms which President Cortez would decline to ratify?"
President Gomez considered this, and the argument had undeniable force. It was Bioli, not Barata, which had much to gain by three weeks' delay. It was possible that this advance was dictated by prudent fear. Equally possible that it was intended to gain no more time than would enable Barata to reinforce its own arsenal, so that its fear would cease. Well, he could watch that.
With the subtlety which had kept him for fifteen years in his precarious eminence, he reflected that the fact of Barata making proposals of any kind might assist him in finding a fair-sounding pretext for sudden war. It would be simple to reject proposals as inadequate, and the mere fact of their being made was admission of an existing wrong. Barata was assisting him to lead up to a crisis which he had supposed he must be single to engineer.
He considered, in the next second, that a peaceful settlement, if it were sufficiently generous, would be far better than war, which he had never desired, and with which it was too great a probability that the United States would interfere. But a genuine settlement would deprive Bioli of its main political interest, apart from himself. He was glad that nine-tenths of his very considerable fortune was in an English bank!
Even in the event of war, there would be the risk that the United States might insist on changes of presidency after it had knocked the heads of the two republics together, and mopped up the mess. . . . He saw that he walked, as he was wont to do, on a narrow plank. . . . But could Barata be genuine in making any offer which could be acceptable to him? It was hard to think.
But he also saw that, until he had unloaded that cargo which approached him across the seas, there could be nothing but gain for him in peaceful negotiation, even though there should be little sincerity on either side.
"I shall be most happy," he said, "to know what you propose."
With this encouragement, the envoy of Barata became specific in statement of the concessions which President Cortez would be willing to make, if he could be assured that an era of friendship would follow. President Gomez listened, and had seldom found the mask of diplomacy so hard to wear.
It was an incredible offer. It was, indeed, incredible to his mind that President Cortez should offer anything to anybody except through fear, or in the hope of a larger gain, but there was an open-handed bounty here which would have been puzzling had it come from a more generous source. Coming from a stronger to a weaker state it had a miraculous sound, and President Gomez's belief in miracles was not great. Yet if, in fact, it were unbelievably true? And there was some force in Dr. Dalston's argument that there could be no point in his offering that which President Cortez would decline to ratify! For one bewildered moment he considered the possibility of disposing of that cargo of arms to a bellicose sister republic too far distant to be of any menace to him, and on terms which would improve his personal banking account more substantially than the Bioli treasury. He considered the possibility that President Cortez might be suffering from some form of dementia, such as will reverse the patient's previous disposition. He had a fear that he himself might be undergoing an attack of delusional insanity. . . . He said that while there would naturally be points of detail which it would be necessary to discuss, and while the matter was too important for him to decide without consulting his responsible ministers, Dr. Dalston could accept his assurance - his speech became florid with expressions of regard for the neighbouring republic, and for the President and Envoy of Barata.
Enrico said that he would telephone President Cortez immediately on his return to his own residence, conveying these expressions of high esteem, and indicating that the offer which he had brought had been favourably received.
CHAPTER XI
JULIANA ENTERS THE FIELD
JULIANA, having ridden until a later hour of the morning than her custom was, must return as the sun gained power in a brazen sky. She met her father as he was retiring for the midday siesta which is the universal custom both of Bioli and Barata. She was the one person on earth to whom he would speak in a free way, having confidence both in her loyalty and discretion, such as he could not feel for any of the ministers of Bioli, and more respect for her wits than he was himself aware.
"The question is," he said, "is he sincere, or has he come here to dupe us with lying words? If you can tell me that, I shall find it simpler to deal with this offer in the right way."
Juliana had persuaded herself that she was in some doubt of Enrico's good faith on other grounds, but she found that she disliked the suggestion when it came from her father's lips.
"He is sincere," she said. "He would not lend himself to Barata's tricks. I should have thought you could see that."
"So he may be. But are they?"
"Can you not judge that by whether the negotiations are dallied or hurried on?"
"We may judge that, if they lag, they are not honestly meant. But, if they are hurried on, how can we tell that what is given now will not be taken back at a better time? They may make us dance to another tune when they have armed themselves to be stronger than they are now."
"Well, I will find out what I can."
"I should be glad if you lose no time."
Juliana stood in a frowning doubt, swinging the broad-brimmed hat which her complexion required when she rode in Bioli's sun. She bit her lip, as she had done when they had talked of Dr. Dalston before. But after that a smile dimpled an olive cheek.
"Did he ask for me?"
"He seemed annoyed that you were not here."
"So he was intended to be. . . . Well, I will see what I can do."
She spoke now in a confident tone, and, as she walked away to her own room, the smile did not leave her lips. It might be judged that she took some pleasure in her own thoughts, though with less certainty that Enrico Dalston would find that they portended pleasure for him.
However, he was pleased enough when he heard her voice on the telephone as the afternoon cooled, inviting him, with the freedom of her English education rather than in accordance with the custom of Bioli, to come over to the Presidency for informal renewal of the acquaintance which had been interrupted so few days before. Tomorrow, she said, there would be a formal reception in his honour, as the new envoy of Barata; but tonight it would be a quieter opportunity for her to hear the exciting experiences he must have had.
Her tone as she said this was light, casual, and yet with a tone of intimacy and even eagerness to learn of the events which had brought him to so unexpected an official position. But it was on a basis of friendly feminine interest, such as will make trivialities its concern, rather than as touching on more important issues. Naturally, he said he would come.
He found himself received with a friendliness more in accordance with the expectations he had formed from their previous parting than her own plans of an earlier hour. He dined with her father and herself, and sustained without embarrassment his part in a conversation which both host and hostess directed to European rather than South American topics, political or social, avoiding absolutely the differences between the two republics, or the embassage which he had undertaken.
But at a later hour, when her father, pleading the cares of office, had withdrawn, she turned the conversation, with swift directness, from idle comparison of the South American mate with the tea of the Eastern Hemisphere, to ask: "How on earth did it happen? It must have been all settled in about ten minutes after you got out of the train. I didn't know that you had anything to do with Barata's politics, or that you knew anyone in the Government there."
"Practically, I didn't. Except for meeting Señor Serati on the boat coming out."
"Yes, of course, that was it!" Her face clouded as she recalled the events of the voyage. How secretly must those negotiations have been conducted, while he had seemed to be idling his time with her! Had he really had political aims, perhaps intrigues, which had been kept in a diplomatic reserve, even while he had appeared to talk in a confidential manner?
Realising something, though not all, of this doubt, in the mind of one with whom he was most anxious to establish a very different feeling, he answered: "Oh, but it can scarcely have had much to do with that. I hardly spoke to him till the last night, and he was rather rude then." He related, in detail, what that conversation had been.
"All the same," she persisted, "it was that meeting which must have put the idea into their heads. You can't guess what a man like Serati's thinking by what he says. I suppose President Cortez sent for you as soon as you arrived?"
"Yes, he did in a way. I was arrested at the hotel."
"You were what?"
Enrico, having gone so far on the path of confidence, saw no objection to, and certainly felt no reluctance in continuing upon it. He told all that had happened without reserve, adding his hope that he might really be the means of establishing friendship between Bioli and Barata. His eyes, as he said it, gave a personal application to this very proper sentiment, as though the closer union of the two republics might be typified in that of a President's daughter of Bioli and an envoy of Barata. But Juliana's wits were at work too busily now to be turned aside for a game which might be played in an idler hour.
"You didn't give them any money?" she asked. "They didn't arrest you for that?"
"No. Nothing of the kind was even mentioned. And as it appears that they knew that I am a fairly rich man, I think we must exonerate them from a suspicion which, I must confess, had been at one time in my mind."
"Yes," she agreed dubiously. "If exonerate's the right word to use. They were just playing a different game."
"You don't seem to have a very high opinion of the Government of Barata."
"And I shouldn't say it to you?"
"I don't mind what you say to me."
She became briefly silent, a slender, snake-skin shoe drawing patterns upon the polished floor. She looked at him with a straight gaze of eyes which he thought the most beautiful in the world, and which cooler judgment would have found it easy to praise. "Are we talking as friends, or are you the envoy of Barata?"
"I hope the two may not be incompatible words."
"I wish I could be equally sure."
"It is to make that certain that I am here."
"All the same, you have not answered my question."
"We are talking as friends, which I am sure we shall always be."
Juliana became silent again. If she had had an impulse to express her opinion of President Cortez or his colleagues, she may have seen that she could give the warning at which she aimed in a more impersonal way.
"You have come to a world," she said, "which you think you know."
"It is strange, of course. But I have always thought of it as my mother's land."
"So it may be. And so, for that matter, it is mine. But I have lived here much more than you."
"And you think my ignorance may lead me into snares which your feet would miss?"
"Did you think that I meant that? You must have thought me a conceited girl! But it is never a disadvantage to know."
"If you tell me, I shall."
"It is a very beautiful land. So you will have seen. So are snakes. They have a beauty which I am fascinated to watch. I think I would much rather be crushed by a snake than torn by a puma's claws. . . . I do not mean that our people are snakes, but they have different outlooks - different ideals - from those which Europe allows. They think different thoughts. I don't feel the same, but I suppose I am sufficiently near them to understand.
"If I were sufficiently roused, I dare say it would come out in surprising ways. I never felt inclined to stick a knife into anyone, but my grandmother did that to a woman who tried to take her husband from her, and if I were sufficiently jealous I dare say I should think as little of it as an Englishman does of killing a pig. It's in things like that that race tells, whatever education may do."
"If you loved anyone," Enrico replied, with admirable adroitness, to this candid confession, "and he hadn't the sense to know when he was well off, I should say he couldn't get more than he deserved for being such an absolute fool."
"Well," she said, her eyes shining with pleasure at the evident sincerity of this compliment, when she might have heard a more dubious reply, "you couldn't have said anything much nicer than that! But don't you see that you've just proved what I say? You couldn't have said it just as you did if your mother hadn't been one of us. And you're a hundred times more English than I."
"I don't want you to be different from what you are."
"That's very kind of you again, but I wasn't really trying to lead the conversation that way. I was saying how different our people are from what you've been used to in what I expect you still call 'at home,' when you're not reminding yourself that you mean it to be here in future.
"I like our people, with all their faults, because I understand, even if I don't always share them. But there are bad and good, of all characters, in England as well as here, and our bad men are different from anything you've been taught to expect.
"They might shoot at you twice a year, and if they miss - which they're most likely to do - they'll be as good friends as ever between times and expect you to be the same. Perhaps it is that they think courtesy's more important, and life less so, than an Englishman does."
He answered easily in reply to this description of the volatile populations of Bioli and Barata: "If they can't aim straight, I don't see that it makes much difference whether they fire at you or not - or, at least, not to the one they're trying to hit. It may be rather more serious for someone else twenty yards away, but perhaps that's equally unimportant to them."
"Everything's unimportant when they get excited, except the one thing about which they happen to lose their heads. It's a matter of what they call brainstorm when they're trying to get a European criminal clear of the law. And when it's over, they just cool down and mop up the blood. "
"Well, I don't see why they should have any reason to mop up mine."
He still answered with a good humour he did not entirely feel. He understood that he was being lectured for his own good, and warned of dangers which his ignorance might otherwise fail to see. He was already too much aware of his inexperience not to realise that there was probable cause for a warning which could not be meant in other than a friendly way. But it shook a confidence in himself which was already insecurely based rather upon the sanguine spirit of youth and health than a rational foundation. He saw, in the very ambiguity of her warning, that she did not regard him as having returned to Bioli in a position of added dignity and importance, as he would have liked her to do, but rather as one, perhaps tool or victim, who was exploited by more astute and less scrupulous men.
There was too much probability in this supposition for him to regard it with ease of mind, and it is to the credit of what he actually was that he took her warning in the right way, and was yet able to maintain the integrity of his official position, as, to hold it, his own honour required him to do.
"You think," he asked, giving her words an implication at once wider and more exact than they literally held, "that I am being made the cat's-paw of cleverer men who will get rid of me without difficulty when my use is done?"
"I didn't say that, and I don't know. We should like to think you have brought a genuine proposal for settling the quarrel between Barata and ourselves; but, speaking as private friends, as we have agreed to do, it's very hard to believe. Nor can we understand why they should have asked you to undertake the negotiation."
"May they not have thought that you would have more confidence in me, as, in a sense, an outsider, than in one of themselves?"
"They may have thought anything. I can't even guess. But they must have known that questions such as tariff revision could be dealt with more readily by those already familiar with the details involved."
"I am quite aware of my inadequacy on the technical side, but so evidently is President Cortez also, for - as I would have mentioned to your father at dinner had I not thought the occasion unsuitable - when I reported to him by telephone this morning that my proposals were likely to be favourably received, he replied that a deputation for my assistance would leave at once, which will, I understood, arrive within the next forty-eight hours."
Juliana confessed surprise at this information, It certainly looked as though, from whatever motive, President Cortez was genuinely anxious to find a basis of peaceful settlement before the Billy Winch should arrive. Was it possible that he was animated by no subtler or more sinister motive than a prudent fear of what Bioli might do when it had those deadly munitions in its hands? If so, they would have served their purpose without the risk and wastage involved in putting them to their purposed use! It was rather with the object of obtaining as much detailed information as possible to report to her father, than from any more lively interest, that she went on to ask: "Did he say who the deputation will be?"
"I understood that Señor Serati is likely to come, with the late envoy, Señor Philipo, and a Señor Conradi, of whom you may know more than I."
"I'm afraid I don't, though I expect my father will. But weren't you appointed because Señor Philipo had fallen ill? He seems to have made a very speedy recovery!"
"I understood that while his condition of health renders him unequal to undertaking the full duties of the legation, he is anxious to be of any assistance he can in an advisory capacity, at a moment of such auspicious importance."
"He must be quite a patriot! I hadn't observed that his previous duties were particularly exhausting. But you'll be able to judge of that. . . . Perhaps I've said more than enough about matters I don't properly understand, and a lot more than I should if I hadn't felt that you belong as much to us as to Barata; but I'll just add this to finish, that you can trust my father, if President Cortez really means to give us a fair deal, that he'll be ready to do the same."
It was an assertion which some of those who had done business with Bioli's President might have hesitated to support, but it may still have been true, and Enrico, saying he believed it fully, spoke no more than he meant. His trouble was nearer home. As may often happen on such occasions, the conversation had influenced both their minds in contrary directions. Juliana, though still profoundly distrustful of anything which President Cortez might say or do, and regarding the appointment of Dr. Dalston to his present office as a puzzle beyond solution, had yet come to recognise the possibility, however slight, that the overtures he brought might be honestly meant; while he, from bright vague dreams of becoming the benefactor of a continent brought to federated friendship by his own skilful diplomacy, had come to an apprehension, more immediate, though equally vague, that he was no more than the simple pawn of a drama he was neither desired nor expected to understand.
"It is a queer business," he thought, as he drove home through broad white streets black-shadowed beneath the light of the tropic moon, "and I should have been wiser to decline an office which could hardly have been thrust upon me without more reason than I can see." He resolved to be very watchful, very wary in all he did. Yet what was there to fear? He had undertaken a mission of peace, which, at the worst, could deserve no blame. Should he fail, things would be no worse than before.
And, after all, need they fail? He thought, with some renewal of confidence, of the wealth which was his in another world. With sufficient cause, he might tip the scale with a golden weight, and he was well aware of how potent is the argument of gold in these Latin lands.
Besides, could he be impatient of that w