DON MIGUEL, DEL BORGITIS
Halfway up the road they noticed on the left a large clearing, in which
stood a group of thatched huts. Some women and children--all with dark
skins and poorly dressed--were lounging around the doorways. These
stood silently as the strangers passed by. A little farther along three
men, attired in exactly the same manner as the two who were escorting
them, were cultivating a garden patch. They gave no indication they
were aware of the presence of strangers.
There was something uncanny--wholly unnatural--about the manner of
their reception and even about the place itself, that caused some
of them to harbor forebodings that all was not right. Yet they had
experienced no opposition, so far--no unfriendliness whatsoever.
Up to the broad veranda they were led, and this, now viewed closely,
showed signs of considerable neglect. The house, built of rough boards,
needed whitewashing again; the elaborate stained-glass windows were
thick with dust; the furnishings of the wide veranda, which were
somewhat prodigal, seemed weather-stained and unkempt. On a small
wicker table was a dirty siphon bottle and some soiled glasses with
bugs and flies crawling over them. Beside these stood a tray of roughly
made cheroots.
The fat man at once disappeared through the open doorway of the
dwelling, but the tall man faced the strangers and, spreading out his
arms as if to forbid their entrance, pointed to the chairs and benches
scattered in profusion about the veranda.
"Invited to sit," interpreted Mr. Cumberford. "Interesting--very."
Suddenly a huge form filled the doorway, inspecting the newcomers with
a quick, comprehensive glance. The man was nearly as tall as Chesty
Todd, but not so well built. Instead of being athletic, he possessed
a superabundance of avoirdupois, evidently the result of high living.
He was clothed all in white flannel, but wore a blue linen shirt with
a soiled collar and a glaring red necktie in which glittered a big
diamond. Jewels were on his fingers, too, and even on his thumbs, and a
gold chain passed around his neck fell in folds across his breast and
finally ended in his watch-pocket. On his feet were red slippers and on
his head a sombrero such as the others had worn. A man of perhaps
thirty-five years of age, rather handsome with his large eyes and
carefully curled mustache, but so wholly unconventional as to excite
wonder rather than admiration.
[Illustration: Suddenly a huge form filled the doorway, inspecting the
newcomers with a quick, comprehensive glance.]
He had merely paused in the doorway for that one rapid glance.
Immediately he advanced with a brisk step, exclaiming:
"Welcome, señors and señoritas--Americaños all--most joyous welcome.
You the Spanish speak? No! It cannot matter, for I speak the English.
I am so pleasured that my humble home is now honored by your presence.
You make me glad--happy--in rapture. You do not know to where--to
whom--you have come? Imagine! I am Don Miguel del Borgitis, and
this"--extending his arms with a proud gesture--"my own Island of
Borgitis--a kingdom--of individual property, however small, for it owes
allegiance to no other nation on earth!"
This was spoken very impressively, while the shrewd eyes read their
faces to determine the degree of awe created.
"Yes," he went on, giving them no chance to reply, "I am really
King--King of Borgitis--but with modesty I call myself Don Miguel del
Borgitis. As such I welcome you. As such I take you to my arms in
friendship. Observe, then, all my kingdom is yours; you shall reign in
my place; you shall command me; for does not Don Miguel ever place his
friends above himself?"
This seemed cordial enough, certainly, but it was rather embarrassing
to find an answer to such effusiveness. Don Miguel, however, did not
seem to expect an answer. With merely an impressive pause, as if to
drive the words home, he continued: "May I, then, be honored by a
recital of your names and station?"
"To be sure," said Mr. Cumberford. "You--er--interest me, Don Miguel;
you do, really. Quite a relief, you see, to find a gentleman, a
civilized gentleman, in these wilds, and----"
"My island kingdom is very grand--very important--Señor Americaño,"
interrupted Don Miguel, evidently piqued at the use of the term
"wilds." "In effect have I reign over three islands--the one from
which you now come, the one to the west of here, and--the Grand Island
Borgitis! Three Islands and one owner--One King--with privilege to
decree life and death to his devoted subjects. But you have more to
say."
They were a bit startled to hear that he knew they came from the island
of the owls. But they reflected that some of his people might have
watched the progress of their launch.
Mr. Cumberford introduced his party to Don Miguel, one by one,
afterward briefly relating the aërial trip of the two girls, the search
for them by the yacht and the unfortunate beaching of the _Salvador_ on
the island during the recent storm, ending with the surprising reunion
of the party and their desire to secure help to get the launch into
deep water again, that they might return home.
To all this Don Miguel listened intently, his head a little to one
side, his eyes turning critically to each person mentioned during the
recital. Then said he, more soberly than before:
"How unfortunate that your ship is wreck!"
"Oh, it is not wrecked," returned Madeline. "It is merely stuck on
those rocks--'beached' is, I think, the proper word."
"Then, alas! it is wreck."
"It is not injured in the least, sir," declared Steve.
Don Miguel's face brightened at this statement, but he controlled his
elation and responded sadly:
"But it is no longer a ship, for you cannot get it off the land."
"Not without your kind assistance, I fear," said Miss Dentry.
"Make me obliged by resuming your seats," requested Don Miguel. Then he
clapped his hands, and the red-bearded man appeared. "Refreshments,
Pietro!" He offered the cheroots to the men, and when they refused
selected one for himself and lighted it. Then, leaning back in his
arm-chair, he regarded his guests musingly and said:
"It is laughable. Really, it amuses one! But under the Spanish Grant
by which I hold my islands--my kingdom--I am exclusively owner of all
wrecks on my shores. In fact, were you not my dear friends, I could
take your yacht, which I now own because it lies wreck on my coast."
"But it is _not_ wrecked!" asserted Steve, frowning, for he was
beginning to suspect Don Miguel.
"Perhaps not, since you tell me so; but I will see. I will see for
myself. Ah, the poor refreshments--the offering of hospitality to a
king's friends. Partake, is my earnest implore, and so honor your
humble host--Don Miguel del Borgitis."
The tall man and the short man brought wines, liquors and glasses, with
a fresh siphon of clear water. Following them came a sour-faced woman
of middle age and a pretty young girl of perhaps sixteen years--pretty
in the Spanish fashion, with plump cheeks, languid dark eyes and raven
hair. These last carried trays of fruits and cake, which they passed
to the company. The woman's face was expressionless; that of the girl
evinced eager curiosity and interest; but neither spoke nor seemed to
receive the notice of the royal Don Miguel.
When they had all positively refused to accept any of the strong drink,
the Don helped himself liberally to a milky liquor diluted with water,
which he called pulque. As he sipped this he said to them:
"The life here on Borgitis is grand--magnificent--entrancing--as you
will easily conceive. But it is also lonely. I have here no equals
with whom I may freely associate. So it delights me to receive you as
guests. May you long enjoy my hospitality--it is a toast which I drink
with fervency."
"We return to the yacht at once," said Steve, stiffly.
"My mansion is roomy and comforting," continued the other, as if he had
not heard, "and here are no owls to annoy one. Some day I will take
you to visit the third island of my kingdom. It is called Chica--after
my daughter, here." He glanced at the young girl, as he spoke, and she
cast down her eyes, seeming frightened.
Mr. Cumberford arose.
"Sir," said he, "we thank you for your hospitality, which we regret we
are unable to further accept. Let us come to the point of our errand.
We need your assistance and are willing to pay for it--liberally, if
need be. You have plenty of men here, I observe, and a large launch.
Send a crew with us to our island----"
"My island, señor, if you please."
"Very well. Send a crew of men to help us, and come along yourself, if
you like. But whatever you do, kindly do it at once, as we have no time
to waste."
He spoke positively, in a way that required an answer; but Don Miguel
merely took a cake from the tray, and as he munched it said casually in
Spanish, as if addressing the air: "Prepare my launch; have the men in
readiness; lock the little boat securely."
Without a glance at his master, the one-eyed man deliberately left
the veranda and walked down the path. Steve pricked up his ears. He
understood the carefully veiled command, and it nettled him.
"What little boat do you refer to, sir?" he pointedly asked.
Don Miguel gave a start, but tossed off the contents of his glass, and
rose.
"I shall prepare to go at once to visit your yacht, with my own men
and in my own launch," said he. "You will be good enough to amuse
yourselves here until I send you the word that I am ready to depart."
With this he lazily stretched his big body, yawned, and turned his back
on his "beloved guests," to leave the veranda and proceed leisurely
down the path to the inlet.