Having described to you the failure of my attempt to find Max in Rio, I
will now continue the record of his adventures, as narrated by himself
in his diary, from the moment that he caught sight of me in the cab _en
route_ for Senor Montezma's office. Scarcely conscious of what he was
doing, he had gained the pavement once more, muttering, as he did so,
"Good heavens! Paul is searching for me. What am I to do?" A frantic
desire to hasten after me and speak to me, so his diary confesses, took
possession of him, but he put it away from him. He knew that to do so
would only be to re-open the old wound, and later on to draw him back to
the life he had made up his mind never to lead again. Consequently, he
walked, even faster than before, in the opposite direction to which he
had been proceeding when he caught sight of me. He scarcely knew what
action to take. To return to Senor Montezma's office was impossible. But
if he were going to give up his employment, what was he to do for a
living? One thing was quite certain--he could not remain in Rio, and he
could not starve. Then he remembered the offer Moreas had made him. If
the latter had returned from Buenos Ayres, here was the chance he
wanted. The thought was no sooner born in his brain than he searched his
pocket-book for the piece of notepaper on which the address was written,
and, having found it, set off to find the house. As he soon discovered,
it was at the further end of the city, a fact for which he was more than
grateful, when he remembered that I should scarcely be likely to venture
so far in search of him. At last, after half an hour's walk, he reached
the house. From the style Moreas had put on on board the steamer, he had
expected to find a comfortable, if not a luxurious residence. To his
great surprise, however, the house was situated in a back street, was
tall, narrow, and inexpressibly dirty. Every window of that dismal
thoroughfare was occupied by male and female heads, craned out in true
Rio fashion to scrutinise the passers-by. His reason for being in the
street at all, his personal appearance, even the very details of his
walk were discussed. He paid no attention, however, but when he had
located the house, entered it and made his way upstairs to the second
floor. Having ascertained from a woman whom he met on the landing that
he had selected the right door, he knocked. A voice within immediately
bade him enter, and he did so, to find himself in a large room, scantily
furnished, if indeed it could be said to have been furnished at all, and
as dirty as the street outside. Moreas, in a state of _deshabille_, was
reclining on a cane settee beside the window, and, as usual, he had a
cigar in his mouth. On seeing Max he sprang to his feet.
"Senor Mortimer, by all that's wonderful!" he cried, with an expression
of the liveliest satisfaction upon his face. "I was only thinking of you
a few moments ago, and now you turn up like the genii in the children's
fairy stories. I hope your appearance means that you have been thinking
over what I said to you some weeks back, and that you are prepared to
accept my offer?"
"It is for that purpose that I am here," Max answered. "If we can come
to a satisfactory arrangement together, I shall be glad to fall in with
your plans."
"My dear fellow," the other cried enthusiastically, "I am quite sure we
can agree on that and every other point. What is it you want to know?"
"Well, in the first instance, I want you to tell me when you intend
starting on this expedition?" asked Max. "It is most imperative."
"The deuce it is!" returned Moreas, "what is the reason of it
all--forgery, murder, or only petty larceny? I thought you had settled
down to a respectable business career, and that you were determined to
emulate the clinging propensities of the limpet?"
"My business career, as you call it, has suddenly come to a standstill,"
said Max gloomily, without thinking or caring very much what
construction the other might place upon his statement. "It is sufficient
that I must not be seen in Rio for some time to come, if ever."
"That is where the wind sits, is it?" retorted Moreas. "Well, it's no
business of mine, of course; but, without wishing to be rude, I must say
that I didn't think you had it in you. Hadn't you better make a clean
breast of it to me, and see what I can do to help you? I'm rather
resourceful in such matters."
"Good heavens! man," Max cried, "you don't surely suppose I'm wanting to
keep out of the way because I've done anything wrong, do you? If you
should----"
"My dear fellow," said Moreas with a deprecatory wave of his hand, "I
don't think anything of the kind. I never do. It only makes trouble. You
have overrun the constable, I suppose, and want to lie by until the
pursuit has ended. Most of us do that at some time or other in our
lives."
"I've done nothing of the kind," said Max with warmth. "I don't owe a
halfpenny in the world. What's more, I have a considerable sum of money
lying to my credit at my bank. No, the sole reason I have for wanting to
get away quickly is because to-day I saw somebody connected with my old
life. He's looking for me in Rio, and I want to make sure that he shall
not find me."
"That is very easily managed."
"How am I to do it, then?"
"Stay here," said Moreas. "They will never think of looking for you in
this quarter of the town. Until we leave, you will be as safe here as if
you were in the centre of Africa. You don't surely suppose I haven't
good and sufficient reasons for living in this hole? Of course I have,
and this is one of them. If you think you can make yourself comfortable
here, you are welcome to stay. What have you to say to my proposal?"
"That I shall be only too glad to accept your offer," Max replied. "The
arrangement will suit me admirably. And now tell me something of the
business in which you want my co-operation. You said, I think, that it
was connected with diamonds."
"It is very much connected with diamonds," the other answered. "Eight or
nine months ago I happened to be travelling in the diamond country, and
it so happened that on this particular field there was a half-witted old
lunatic who was everybody's butt. He was an extraordinary individual in
many ways, and was always spying about for diamonds, and never finding
them, in places where no sane man would dream of looking for them. He
had theories of his own, he used to say, though there was no evidence
that those theories ever turned up trumps. Every now and then he would
mouch off by himself into the wilds, be away for a month or six weeks,
and when he put in an appearance again, look as near starvation as a man
could well do and still live. But according to his own tale he had never
brought anything of value back with him. He had just returned from one
of these little expeditions when I tumbled across him. His friends in
the mining camp were making great game of him. I should say they got
more fun out of that poor old lunatic over that journey than they had
ever had from him before. He took it well, however.
"'You laugh at my diamonds,' he would cry, when they had gone a little
too far with him; 'well, never mind, Senors, mark my words, the time
will come when I shall find more diamonds than all the rest of you put
together.' Then he would take two or three old pebbles out of his pocket
and fall to polishing them as if he expected to improve their value. I
wouldn't have lived that old boy's life amongst those men for something.
The practical jokes they played upon him would have raised the temper of
a mummy.
"Somehow, I had got the notion in my head that there was more in the old
boy than met the eye. He seemed to be sharp enough when there was nobody
about. In consequence, I kept my weather eye upon him. As doubtless you
know, some of those daft chaps have curious instincts, and, as I have
said before, seem able to find things in places where men with better
brains would never think of looking for them. I shouldn't have been at
all surprised to hear that the old chap had got a _cache_ hidden away
somewhere. Having come to this conclusion, I made up my mind as to the
part I was going to play. I had plenty of time on my hands just then,
and if there was anything worth learning from the old boy I was going to
learn it. Accordingly the next time they thought of playing one of their
monkey tricks upon him, I determined to be present. Presently rumours
got abroad that they were preparing a new joke. It was to be a wonder, I
was given to understand. Then I found out what it was, and I tell you it
fairly made my blood boil. The first part of the programme I discovered
was to drug his liquor and to throw him into a deep sleep. 'Here,'
thought I to myself, 'is my chance. As soon as they get everything fixed
up and are ready to begin their performance, I'll step in and ring the
curtain down.' Things had been a little flat in the district for some
time, and a bit of amusement of this sort was just to their liking. The
remainder of the day was devoted to anticipating the fun. A couple of
hours before sundown, the old fellow looked in at the inn for his usual
glass of _cachaca_. In due course the doctored spirit was handed to him.
He was about to put his lips to it, when I crossed and took possession
of the glass.
"'Don't touch that,' I said, removing it to a safe distance. 'Some of
your friends here have been playing a trick upon you. I'll show you
directly what is the matter with it.'
"On hearing this an ominous murmur rose in the room. The crowd were not
going to be disappointed of their fun by my interference. Presently the
principal author of the joke, a Portuguese, and the bully of the
neighbourhood, advanced and began to threaten me. The old man looked
from one to the other of us, as if he did not know quite what to make of
it all. He had had many practical jokes played upon him, but never
before had a person come forward as his defender. The Portuguese by this
time was looking as dangerous as possible.
"'Be careful, my friend,' said I, as he flourished a pistol before my
face, and talked of what he intended doing if I did not leave the room.
'It is my will that this old man shall not drink the stuff you have
poured out for him. Surely that is sufficient.'
"'It is not sufficient,' he answered, his temper fairly getting the
better of him. 'You have intruded where you are not wanted, and I, for
one, am not content to tolerate your behaviour.'
"'Of course that is for you to decide,' I retorted. 'If you don't like
it, you can go outside. I don't intend to budge.'
"I could see that he was anxious for a row, and determined to give him a
little lesson in the proprieties. I had not been very popular for some
time, and was glad of the opportunity to show them what I was able to
accomplish if the occasion should arise. Accordingly, I took my revolver
from my pocket, and, bidding one of the bystanders toss a coin into the
air, clipped it first shot.
"'Now,' I said, turning to the individual who, a moment before, had been
so anxious to have my blood, 'you have seen what I can do with this
little instrument. I am even better when the target is a man. Perhaps
you are still dissatisfied with my behaviour.'
"'No, Senor,' he replied. 'Allow me to say that I am more than
satisfied.'
"'Very good,' I answered. 'In that case you will oblige me by drinking
with me.'
"Turning to the landlord, I ordered a glass of _Agoadente de Cana_, and
when it had been supplied to me once more addressed my antagonist.
"'Let us clink glasses together,' I said, holding mine out to him.
"'But I have no glass,' he replied, and thinking that I did not intend
to provide it, was about to order some refreshment for himself.
"'One moment,' I answered; 'there is a glass upon the table. Oblige me
by drinking what it contains.'
"This he absolutely refused to do, knowing, of course, that it was
drugged. I was firm, however. He had had an opportunity of playing his
game and had failed, and now I was going to try mine.
"'Pick it up,' I said, 'and drink what it contains without further
delay. If it is good enough for our friend here, it is surely good
enough for you.'
"Once more he refused to do as I ordered.
"'I am sorry for that,' I said. 'It seems a pity you should be so
anxious to quarrel with me. Let me say, once and for all, that you must
either drink, or show me your skill with that weapon in your belt. There
is no middle course.'
"On hearing this his swarthy skin turned a sort of sickly green. The man
was a coward right through. He did not want to fight after what he had
seen of my skill with the revolver, and it was equally certain he had no
desire to drink the mixture he had himself prepared. Eventually I gave
him three minutes to decide, and, at the expiration of the time, had the
happiness to persuade him to decide in favour of my proposal.
"'Your health, Senor,' I said, tossing off the contents of my own glass.
'Your health, and, if you will permit me to wish them to you, pleasant
dreams.'
"If he had had half an opportunity he would have upset the glass, but I
was on the watch for that. My right hand was in my pocket; the same in
which I had placed the revolver, and from the expression upon his face I
gathered that he was aware of the fact. At last, seeing that there was
nothing for it but to do as I desired, he lifted the glass and tossed
off the contents. I assured myself that he had left no heel-tap, and
then bade him be seated, returning myself to the game of cards which the
old man's entry had interrupted. The strength of the drug must have been
considerable, for we had not played more than a dozen hands before his
head had fallen forward on the table, and he was fast asleep. I
convinced myself that he was not shamming, and then turned to the old
man.
"'You see, my venerable friend,' I said, 'what your fate would have been
had you drunk what was in that glass. For the future were I in your
place, I should bestow my patronage elsewhere. This inn is not safe for
you. And now let me escort you to your dwelling. Our friends here are
none too amiably disposed towards you, and it is just possible they
might take their revenge as soon as my back was turned.' With that we
left the inn together and tramped along the track, till we reached the
miserable hovel in which he lived. During our walk the old fellow had
scarcely spoken. Now he became somewhat more communicative.
"'I am obliged to you, Senor, for what you have done for me,' he began.
'They hate me over there because they think I know more about diamonds
than they do.' He was silent again for a few moments. 'And it's quite
true,' he added solemnly to himself.
"At the time I regarded this as only another proof of the old boy's
idiocy. I had often seen him polishing his pebbles, and, like every one
else, had come to the conclusion that he believed them to be diamonds.
Now, however, I have the very best of reasons for knowing that it was
only another proof of his cleverness. It suited him to pose as a softy,
and the pebbles were only a means he had adopted for putting us off the
scent.
"'When you come to think of it, it was rather a good thing for you that
I visited the hospederia to-night,' I said, when I had seated myself on
a log that did duty for a chair, and had lit a cigar. For you see I
wanted him to understand plainly that I had rendered him a service, and
also that I expected him to be grateful for the same. 'If I hadn't been
at hand they'd have played a nice game on you.' I thereupon furnished
him with a brief outline of the intended amusement.
"As I proceeded I noticed the same look on his face that I had observed
on a previous occasion. Had the jokers seen it, I fancy they would have
treated him with more respect than they had hitherto done.
"'It was certainly good for me that you were there,' he replied, 'and I
am very grateful to you, Senor, for the service you have rendered me.'
"After that he went to a corner of his hut, and having fumbled about for
some time, produced a small leather bag. Taking his place once more on
the log beside me, he unlaced the bag, and tilted half a dozen
medium-sized stones into the palm of his hand. If the others he carried
about with him, and of which he appeared to be proud, were only
glittering pebbles, these were undoubtedly diamonds. Possibly they were
not as valuable as he supposed, but, at any rate, they were worth quite
enough to show me that what I had suspected was correct, namely, that
his supposed ignorance was only a blind to cover his real cleverness.
'If the Senor will honour me by accepting one of these stones, he will
add to the debt I already owe him,' he observed with a certain quiet
dignity. 'It may remind him, in days to come, of his kindness to an old
man who had no sort of claim upon him.'
"But I was not to be caught napping. The old fellow wanted me to believe
that these few stones were the collection of a lifetime, stored as a
provision against a rainy day. I knew better, however. My common sense
told me that he wouldn't have been so ready to give them away if they
had been the sole result of so much misery and toil. I accordingly
declined his generous offer, taking a high hand, and stating that I had
no desire to be paid for doing what was, after all, only a friendly act.
The old fellow pretended to be hurt by my decision, and stowed the
diamonds away once more in their hiding-place. Well, to make a long
story short, I kept in close touch with him for the next fortnight. The
practical jokers in the neighbourhood had had a lesson, and, seeing that
I had constituted myself his protector, they left him severely alone.
Presently I saw that he was contemplating some important step. A couple
of fresh mules had made their appearance in his _corral_, and there were
evident signs in the hut itself that he intended clearing out. I
wondered what this could mean, and, since he had said nothing to me on
the subject, I resolved to watch him the more closely. Knowing what I
did, and guessing the rest, I had no intention of allowing him to give
me the slip. For several days I watched him in this fashion. Then I
noticed that his visits to the village became less and less frequent,
and, when he did put in an appearance there, he invariably talked in
such a way as to lead people to suppose that he had quite settled down
in the neighbourhood, and had not the least intention of removing
elsewhere for many a long day to come. Being aware of his character,
this in itself was sufficient to put me on my guard.
"A night or two later, and fortunately when I was spending the evening
with him, the climax came. The old fellow had, or pretended to have,
taken a great fancy to me, and more than once he reiterated his desire
that I should accept the diamond he had first offered to me. I
steadfastly refused to do so, however, and could see that my decision
increased his good opinion of me. On this occasion it was nearly ten
o'clock before I left the hut. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and
so still that you could have heard a leaf drop a hundred yards away. It
was his own proposal that he should walk a portion of the way with me.
We therefore set out, and had proceeded about half the distance, when
there was a loud report of a rifle in the bushes close beside us, and a
second later he uttered a cry and fell into my arms. That the shot was
intended for myself, and that it was fired by one of my enemies in the
village, I had not the least doubt. Bending over the old fellow, I asked
him how he felt, but he did not answer. Then, carrying him as best I
could, I retraced my steps as quickly as possible. When I reached the
hut I laid him upon his bed, and, by the light of a lamp, endeavoured to
discover the nature of his wound. The bullet, it appeared, had
penetrated his right breast, and, from such knowledge of gun wounds as I
possessed, it was evident to me that it was a fatal one. He was
breathing heavily and with a considerable amount of difficulty, and must
have realised that it was all up with him, for, when he spoke, he said
as much.
"'Lay me down on the bed,' he said. 'They've got me this time, the
cowardly dogs! If only I had been able to get away from here safe and
sound, they'd have treated me a bit different when they next met me. In
three months' time, if all had gone well, I should have been one of the
richest men in the world. But I suppose it wasn't to be, so what's the
use of grumbling?'
"After this philosophical expression of his feelings he was silent for a
while. Once more I wiped the blood from his lips, and once more he
spoke.
"'Senor Moreas,' he said, 'you're the only friend I've had these many
years past. You wouldn't take what I offered you here, but I can give
you some information now that will make it up to you a dozen times over.
You may think I am not quite right in my head, but, right or not right,
I know of the whereabouts of a place in this country where the finest
diamonds in all Brazil are to be found.'
"From what he told me I gathered that he had learnt about the place from
an old Indian woman for whom he had in his turn done a kindness. Twice
he had made attempts to reach the place, but on each occasion he had
been unsuccessful. That it existed, however, he was quite convinced.
With his dying breath he gave me full particulars, informing me in what
direction I was to proceed, and how I should recognise the place when I
did come upon it. Then, having told me where to find several small bags
of stones in the hut, and which, I might add, I afterwards sold for
upwards of two thousand pounds in English money, he breathed his last in
my arms. As soon as I was sure that he was dead, I made a final
examination of the hut, took what I thought would be of service to me,
and then returned to the village.
"A fortnight later I was on my way to Europe, and when I met you on
board the _Diamintina_, I had found a market for the stones the old
fellow had given me. They proved to be more valuable than I had
supposed, and when I was convinced of this, I was anxious, as you may
believe, not to let the grass grow under my feet before I set out in
search of the place of which he had spoken to me. Circumstances,
however, combined to prevent my doing so at once. A year went by, and
still the opportunity did not arrive. If the truth must be told, the
money I had brought from England I had lost at cards, and until I could
find more, I knew it was impossible for me to embark upon such a costly
expedition. What was more, I discovered that I was being shadowed by
three men who were, to all intents and purposes, participators in my
secret. How they obtained their knowledge, unless they had got it from
the old man some time before, when he was drunk and talkative, I cannot
say; but that they knew I had it, and that they did not intend to let me
escape with it, soon became painfully apparent. Wherever I went those
three men followed me, until at last their leader, an Englishman, came
boldly up and placed a proposal before me. If I were prepared to allow
them to participate to a certain extent, they were willing to find a
proportion of the necessary money; they would also accompany me, and do
their best to find the place in question. If I would not consent, then
they would not allow me to go without them. I argued, threatened, and
even attempted to buy them off, but it was of no use. They stuck to
their point like bulldogs. Either they must be permitted to go with me,
or I should not go at all. At last, seeing that I could do nothing else,
I was perforce compelled to agree to their terms."
"And what do you intend doing now?" Max inquired.
"To-night we are going to meet here, and make the final arrangements;
after that we shall start away on our journey."
"And what part am I to play in the performance?"
"That's exactly what we have to arrange," Moreas replied. "As I have
already told you, these fellows are none too well disposed towards
myself. If it should come to fighting, as it may very well do, they
could act as they please with me. I should be powerless to resist them.
My idea, therefore, is to get hold of some good man, and import him into
the business, not as a friend of my own, but in the capacity of another
enemy. To all appearances he would be hand-in-glove with them, but in
reality he would be my ally, ready to step up and turn the tables,
should they make themselves objectionable. Do you understand?"
Max replied that he understood perfectly well, but he was not quite
certain that he altogether liked the idea. He was certainly not going to
act in the capacity of a spy, either for Moreas or for anyone else. He
said as much to the other, who laughed the matter off.
"My dear fellow, I don't want you to be a spy at all," he said. "What on
earth put that notion into your head? I should be the last to suggest
such a thing. No, all I want you to do is to prevent them from playing
me false. If you come with me as my friend, they'll turn you out again.
Don't you see? They're much too sharp to let me employ a bodyguard to
act against themselves. All you will have to do will be to stand between
us in the capacity of an umpire, and see that there is fair play on both
sides. Now, what have you to say?"
"Under those circumstances I have no objection to acting as you
propose."
"Very good; that settles it. Now we'd better arrange one or two other
little matters while we're about it, and then postpone the remainder
until they arrive."
It was not until nearly nine o'clock that evening that the three men,
whom Moreas had informed Max were so determined to share the chances of
the expedition with him, put in an appearance. It was part of the plan,
that Max and he had arranged together, that the former should not be in
the room when they arrived. He was to drop in half an hour or so later,
as if by chance, and then to appear annoyed at finding them there. When
he did so, Moreas greeted him with well-simulated surprise. The others
stared at the intruder, as if they scarcely knew what to make of him,
and then at Moreas, as if they were suspicious of his action in the
matter. On his part Max studied them with equal interest. The taller of
the trio was an Englishman, possibly thirty-five years of age, who
boasted a frank and extremely pleasing countenance. His name was
Bertram, and, as Max discovered later, he had occupied a good position
in the world, from which he had fallen, more by his own folly than on
account of any material wrong-doing. The other two were unmistakably
Spaniards. The name of one was Diego Pereira, that of the other Antonio
Rodriguez. Neither of them were particularly pleasant-looking fellows,
and Max wondered as he looked at them what it was that had made the
Englishman associate with them.
At the moment Max entered, the two Spaniards were talking vociferously.
From what he could catch of their conversation it appeared that they
were extremely dissatisfied with something Moreas had done, and desired
to make trouble out of it if only such a thing were possible. Their
grievance eventually proved to be his own importation into the affair,
of which Moreas had been telling them.
"But what can I do?" the latter asked snappishly. "He swears that he
will come with us, and how am I to prevent him?"
"As it appears that I am the subject of your conversation," said Max
coolly, seating himself on the table, "perhaps I may be permitted to say
a word. Let me inform you, therefore, once and for all, that it is not a
bit of use Moreas or anybody else trying to keep me out of the business.
I know all the ins and outs of it, and, I tell you plainly, our friend
here doesn't leave Rio without me. You can buy me off if you're willing
to pay my price, but, I give you fair warning, it will be a stiff one.
Otherwise, I go. Take your choice."
"What did I tell you?" said Moreas angrily to the others. "I wish to
goodness you were all at the bottom of the sea."
"That is very likely," returned Max. "But as we're not, you've got to
give yourself the pleasure of our society. Has anyone else any objection
to raise?"
He looked round at the assembled company. His coolness had evidently
impressed them.
"If you are determined to go, and Moreas is willing to give half of his
share to you, I don't know that anything more need be said," observed
the Englishman. "Personally, I think it's a pity to bring a fifth person
in; but, as he says, it is his affair, not ours. I'll give you one piece
of advice, however, if you are coming; don't try to play any tricks with
us."
"Or with me," put in Moreas sulkily. "If you do, you'll find yourself in
the wrong box. By the time I've paid all of you your shares there will
be nothing left for myself. I only hope nothing will go wrong."
"It had better not," answered Max. "At least, so far as you are
concerned. You know me, I think, and I know you."
Moreas instinctively thought of the game of cards they had played
together on the _Diamintina_, and of the pistol practice that had
followed it. Was Max's speech only a part of the game of bluff they were
both playing, or was it really intended as a warning to himself? A look
of real apprehension flashed across his face. The Englishman observed
it, and, if he had entertained suspicions before as to their complicity
in the affair, this effectually dispersed them. They thereupon proceeded
to make the final arrangements for the journey. A rendezvous was agreed
upon for the following morning, and, this done, Max rose to take his
leave.
"Adeos, Senors," he said, bowing to them with graceful insolence. "I
have the honour to bid you farewell until to-morrow."
Then he left the room and went downstairs. But he did not leave the
neighbourhood. According to the plan they had arranged, he took up his
position in a dark corner of the street until he had seen the others
depart. Then he returned to the house and rejoined Moreas.
"You played your part extremely well," said the latter patronisingly.
"It's a long time since I witnessed a prettier bit of acting than when
you told me I had better see that nothing went wrong while we were
away."
"Don't be too sure it was all acting," replied Max quietly. "You have
brought me into it to look after _your_ interests; but I fancy you'll
agree with me that a man's first duty, in affairs like this at any rate,
is to look after his own."
Moreas tried to laugh unconcernedly, but the result was a comparative
failure.