CHASE PERFORMS A MIRACLE
Hollingsworth Chase now felt that he was on neutral ground with the
Princess Genevra. He could hardly credit his senses. When he left
Rapp-Thorberg in disgrace some months before, his susceptibilities were
in a most thoroughly chastened condition; a cat might look at a king,
but he had forsworn peeping into the secret affairs of princesses.
His strange connection with the Skaggs will case is easily explained.
After leaving Thorberg he went directly to Paris; thence, after ten
days, to London, where he hoped to get on as a staff correspondent for
one of the big dailies. One day at the Savage Club, he listened to a
recital of the amazing conditions which attended the execution of
Skaggs's will. He had shot wild game in South Africa with Sir John
Brodney, chief counsellor for the islanders, and, as luck would have it,
was to lunch with him on the following day at the Savoy.
His soul hungered for excitement, novelty. The next day, when Sir John
suddenly proposed that he go out to Japat as the firm's representative,
he leaped at the chance. There would be no difficulty about certain
little irregularities, such as his nationality and the fact that he was
not a member of the London bar: Sir John stood sponsor for him, and the
islanders would take him on faith.
In truth, Rasula was more than glad to have the services of an American.
He had heard Wyckholme talk of the manner in which civil causes were
conducted and tried in the United States, and he felt that one Yankee on
the scene was worth ten Englishmen at home. Doubtless he got his
impressions of the genus Englishman by observation of the devoted
Bowles.
The good-looking Mr. Chase, writhing under the dread of exposure as an
international jackass, welcomed the opportunity to get as far away from
civilisation as possible. He knew that the Prince Karl story would not
lie dormant. It would be just as well for him if he were where the lash
of ridicule could not reach him, for he was thin-skinned.
We know how and when he came to the island and we have renewed our short
acquaintance with him under peculiar circumstances. It would be sadly
remiss, however, to suppress the information that he could not banish
the fair face of the Princess Genevra from his thoughts during the long
voyage; nor would it be stretching the point to say that his day dreams
were of her as he sat and smoked in his bungalow porch.
Before Chase left London, Sir John Brodney bluntly cautioned him against
the dangers that lurked in Lady Deppingham's eyes.
"She won't leave you a peg to stand on, Chase, if you seek an
encounter," he said. "She's pretty and she's clever, and she's made
fools of better men than you, my boy. I don't say she's a bad lot,
because she's too smart for that. But I will say that a dozen men are in
love with her to-day. I suppose you'll say that she can't help that. I'm
only warning you on the presumption that they don't seem to be able to
help it, either. Remember, my boy, you are going out there to offset,
not to beset, Lady Deppingham."
Chase learned more of the attractive Lady Agnes and her court before he
left England. Common report credited her with being dangerously pretty,
scandalously unwise, eminently virtuous, distractingly adventurous in
the search for pleasure, charmingly unscrupulous in her treatment of
men's hearts, but withal, sufficiently clever to dodge the consequences
of her widespread though gentle iniquities. He was quite prepared to
admire her, and yet equally resolved to avoid her. Something told him
that he was not of the age and valor of St. Anthony. He went out to
Japat with a stern resolution to lead himself not into temptation; to
steer clear of the highway of roses and stick close to the thorny paths
below. Besides, he felt that he deserved some sort of punishment for
looking so high in the Duchy of Rapp-Thorberg.
Not that he was in love with the proud Princess Genevra; he denied that
to himself a hundred times a day as he sat in his bungalow and smoked
the situation over.
He had proved to himself, quite beyond a doubt, that he was not in love,
when, like a bolt from a clear sky, she stepped out of the oblivion into
which he had cast her, to smile upon him without warning. It was most
unfair. Her smile had been one of the most difficult obstacles to
overcome in the effort to return a fair and final verdict.
As he sat in the shade of his bungalow porch on the afternoon of her
arrival, he lamented that every argument he had presented in the cause
of common sense had been knocked into a cocked hat by that electric
smile. Could anything be more miraculous than that she should come to
the unheard-of island of Japat--unless, possibly, that he should be
there when she came? She was there for him to look upon and love and
lose, just as he had dreamed all these months. It mattered little that
she was now the wife of Prince Karl of Brabetz; to him she was still the
Princess Genevra of Rapp-Thorberg.
If he had ever hoped that she might be more to him than an unattainable
divinity, he was not fool enough to imagine that such a hope could be
realised. She was a princess royal, he the slave who stood afar off and
worshipped beyond the barrier of her disdain. In his leather pocketbook
lay the ever-present reminder that she could be no more than a dream to
him. It was the clipping from a Paris newspaper, announcing that the
Princess Genevra was to wed Prince Karl during the Christmas holidays.
He had seen the Christmas holidays come and go with the certain
knowledge in his heart that they had given her to Brabetz as the most
glorious present that man had ever received. If he was tormented by this
thought at the happiest season of the year, his crustiness was
attributed by others to the loneliness of his life on the island. If he
grew leaner and more morose, no one knew that it was due to the passing
of a woman.
Now she was come to the island and, so far as he had been able to see,
there was no sign of the Prince of Brabetz in attendance. The absence of
the little musician set Chase to thinking, then to speculating and, in
the end, to rejoicing. Her uncle by marriage, an English nobleman of
high degree, in gathering his friends for the long cruise, evidently had
left the Prince out of his party, for what reason Chase could not
imagine. To say that the omission was gratifying to the tall American
would be too simple a statement. There is no telling to what heights his
thoughts might have carried him on that sultry afternoon if they had not
been harshly checked by the arrival of a messenger from the château. His
blood leaped with anticipation. Selim brought word that the messenger
was waiting to deliver a note. The Enemy, who shall be called by his
true name hereafter, steadied himself and commanded that the man be
brought forthwith.
Could it be possible--but no! _She_ would not be writing to him. What a
ridiculous thought! Lady Deppingham? Ah, there was the solution! She was
acting as the go-between, she was the intermediary! She and the Princess
had put their cunning heads together--but, alas! His hopes fell flat as
the note was put into his eager hand. It was from Britt.
Still he broke the seal with considerable eagerness. As he perused the
somewhat lengthy message, his disappointment gave way to a no uncertain
form of excitement; with its conclusion, he was on his feet, his eyes
gleaming with enthusiasm.
"By George!" he exclaimed. "What luck! Things are coming my way with a
vengeance. I'll do it this very night, thanks to Britt. And I must not
forget Browne. Ah, what a consolation it is to know that there are
Americans wherever one goes. Selim! Selim!" He was standing as straight
as a corporal and his eyes were glistening with the fire of battle when
Selim came up and forgot to salute, so great was his wonder at the
transformation. "Get word to the men that I want every mother's son of
'em to attend a meeting in the market-place to-night at nine. Very
important, tell 'em. Tell Von Blitz that he's _got_ to be there. I'm
going to show him and my picturesque friend, Rasula, that I am here to
stay. And, Selim, tell that messenger to wait. There's an answer."
Long before nine o'clock the men of Japat began to gather in the market
and trading place. It was evident that they expected and were prepared
for the crisis. Von Blitz and Rasula, who had played second fiddle until
he could stand it no longer, were surprised and somewhat staggered by
the peremptory tone of the call, but could see no chance for the
American to shift his troublesome burden. The subdued, sullen air of the
men who filled the torchlighted market-place brooded ill for any attempt
Chase might make to reconcile them to his peculiar views, no matter how
thoroughly they may have been misunderstood by the people. Explanations
were easy to make, but difficult to establish. Chase could convince
them, no doubt, that he was not guilty of double dealing, but it would
be next to impossible to extinguish the blaze of jealousy that was
consuming the reason of the head men of Japat, skilfully fed by the
tortured Von Blitz and blown upon ceaselessly by the breath of scandal.
Five hundred dark, sinister men were gathered in knots about the square.
They talked in subdued tones and looked from fiery eyes that belied
their outward calm.
Hollingsworth Chase, attended by Selim, came down from his mountain
retreat. He heard the sibilant hiss of the scorned Persians as he passed
among them on the outskirts of the crowd; he observed the threatening
attitude of the men who waited and watched; he saw the white, ugly face
of Von Blitz quivering with triumph; he felt the breath of disaster upon
his cheek. And yet he walked among them without fear, his head erect,
his eyes defiant. He knew that a crisis had come, but he smiled as he
walked up to meet it, with a confidence that was sublime.
The market-place was a large open tract in the extreme west end of the
town, some distance removed from the business street and the pier. On
two sides were the tents of the fruit peddlers and the vegetable
hucksters, negroes who came in from the country with their produce. The
other sides were taken up by the fabric and gewgaw venders, while in the
centre stood the platforms from which the auctioneers offered treasures
from the Occident. Through a break in the foothills, the château was
plainly discernible, the sea being obscured from view by the dense
forest that crowned the cliffs.
Chase made his way boldly to the nearest platform, exchanging bows with
the surprised Von Blitz and the saturnine Rasula, who stood quite near.
The men of Japat slowly drew close in as he mounted the platform, The
gleaming eyes that shone in the light of the torches did not create any
visible sign of uneasiness in the American, even though down in his
heart he trembled. He knew the double chance he was to take. From where
he stood looking out over those bronze faces, he could pick out the
scowling husbands who hated him because their wives hated them. He could
see Ben Ali, the master of two beauties from Teheran and the handsome
dancing girl from Cairo; there was Amriph, who basked erstwhile in the
sunshine of a bargain from Damascus and a seraph from Bagdad, but who
now groped about in the blackness of their contempt; and others, all of
whom felt in their bitter hearts that their misery was due to the
prowess of this gallant figure.
Afar off stood the group of women who had inspired this hatred and
distrust. Behind them, despised and uncountenanced by the Oriental
elect, were crowded the native women, who, down in their hearts, loathed
the usurpers. It was Chase's hope that the husbands of these simple
women would ultimately stand at his side in the fight for supremacy--and
they were vastly in the majority. If he could convince these men that
his dealings with them were honest, Von Blitz could "go hang."
He faced the crowd, knowing that all there were against him. "Von
Blitz!" he called suddenly. The German started and stepped back
involuntarily, as if he had been reprimanded.
"I've called this meeting in order to give you a chance to say to my
face some of the things you are saying behind my back. Thank God, all of
you men understand English. I want you to hear what Von Blitz has to say
in public, and then I want you to hear what I say to him. Incidentally,
you may have something to say for yourselves. In the first place, I want
you all to understand just how I stand in respect to my duties as your
legal representative. Von Blitz and Rasula and others, I hear, have
undertaken to discredit my motives as the agent of your London advisers.
Let me say, right here, that the man who says that I have played you
false in the slightest degree, is a liar--a _damned_ liar, if you prefer
it that way. You have been told that I am selling you out to the lawyers
for the opposition. That is lie number one. You have been led to believe
that I make false reports to your London solicitors. Lie number two. You
have been poisoned with the story that I covet certain women in this
town--too numerous to mention, I believe. That is lie number three. They
are all beautiful, my friends, but I wouldn't have one of 'em as a gift.
"For the past few nights my home has been watched. I want to announce to
you that if I see anybody hanging around the bungalow after to-day, I'm
going to put a bullet through him, just as I would through a dog. Please
bear that in mind. Now, to come down to Von Blitz. You can't drive me
out of this island, old man. You have lied about me ever since I beat
you up that night. You are sacrificing the best interests of these
people in order to gratify a personal spite, in order to wreak a
personal vengeance. Stop! You can talk when I have finished. You have
set spies upon my track. You have told these husbands that their wives
need watching. You have turned them against me and against their wives,
who are as pure and virtuous as the snow which you never see. (God,
forgive me!) All this, my friend, in order to get even with me. I don't
ask you to retract anything you've said. I only intend you to know that
I can crush you as I would a peanut, if you know what that is. You----"
Von Blitz, foaming with rage, broke in: "I suppose you vill call out der
warships! We are not fools! You can fool some of----"
"Now, see here, Von Blitz, I'll show whether I can call out a warship
whenever I need one. I have never intended to ask naval help except in
case of an attack by our enemies up at the château. You can't believe
that I seek to turn those big guns against my own clients--the clients I
came out here to serve with my life's blood if necessary. But, hear me,
you Dutch lobster! I can have a British man-of-war here in ten hours to
take you off this island and hang you from a yard arm on the charge of
conspiracy against the Crown."
Von Blitz and Rasula laughed scornfully and turned to the crowd. The
latter began to harangue his fellows. "This man is a--a--" he began.
"A bluff!" prompted Von Blitz, glaring at his tall accuser.
"A bluff," went on Rasula. "He can do none of these things. Nor can the
Americans at the château. I know that they are liars. They--"
"I'll make you pay for that, Rasula. Your time is short. Men of Japat, I
don't want to serve you unless you trust me--"
A dozen voices cried: "We don't trust you!" "Dog of a Christian! Son of
a snake!" Von Blitz glowed with satisfaction.
"One moment, please! Rasula knows that I came out here to represent Sir
John Brodney. He knows how I am regarded in London. He is jealous
because I have not listened to his chatter. I am not responsible for the
probable delay in settling the estate. If you are not very careful, you
will ruin every hope for success that you may have had in the beginning.
The Crown will take it out of your hands. You've got to show yourselves
worthy of handling the affairs of this company. You can't do it if you
listen to such carrion as Von Blitz and Rasula. Oh, I'm not afraid of
you! I know that you have written to Sir John, Rasula, asking that I be
recalled. He won't recall me, rest assured, unless he throws up the
case. I have his own letters to prove that he is satisfied with my work
out here. I am satisfied that there are enough fair-minded men in this
crowd to protect me. They will stand by me in the end. I call upon--"
But a howl of dissent from the throng brought him up sharply. His face
went white and for a moment he feared the malevolence that stared at him
from all sides. He looked frequently in the direction of the distant
château. An anxious gleam came into his eyes--was it of despair? A
hundred men were shouting, but no one seemed to have the courage to
break over the line that he had drawn. Knives slipped from many sashes;
Von Blitz was screaming with insane laughter, pointing his finger at the
discredited American. While they shouted and cursed, his gaze never left
the cleft in the hills. He did not attempt to cry them down; the effort
would have been in vain. Suddenly a wild, happy light came into his
anxious, searching eyes. He gave a mighty shout and raised his hands,
commanding silence.
Selim, clinging to his side, also had seen the sky-rocket which arose up
from the château and dropped almost instantly into the wall of trees.
There was something in the face and voice of the American that quelled
the riotous disorder.
"You fools!" he shouted, "take warning! I have told you that I would not
turn the guns of England and America against you unless you turned
against me. I am your friend--but, by the great Mohammed you'll pay for
my life with every one of your own if you resort to violence. Listen!
To-day I learned that my life was threatened. I sent a message in the
air to the nearest battleship. There is not an hour in the day or night
that I or the people in the château cannot call upon our governments for
help. My call to-day has been answered, as I knew it would be. There is
always a warship near at hand, my friends. It is for you to say whether
a storm of shot and shell--"
Von Blitz leaped upon a platform and shouted madly: "Fools! Don't
believe him! He cannot bring der ships here! He lies--he lies! He--"
At that moment, a shrill clamour of voices arose in the distance--the
cries of women and children. Chase's heart gave a great bound of joy. He
knew what it meant. The crowd turned to learn the cause of this sudden
disturbance. Across the square, coming from the town, raced the women
and children, gesticulating wildly and screaming with excitement.
Chase pointed his finger at Von Blitz and shouted:
"I can't, eh? There's a British warship standing off the harbour now,
and her guns are trained--"
But he did not complete the astounding, stupefying sentence. The women
were screaming:
"The warship! The warship! Fly! Fly!"
In a second, the entire assemblage was racing furiously, doubtingly, yet
fearfully toward the pier. Von Blitz and Rasula shouted in vain. They
were left with Chase, who smiled triumphantly upon their ghastly faces.
"Gentlemen, they are not deceived. There _is_ a warship out there. You
came near to showing your hand to-night. Now come along with me, and
I'll show my hand to you. Rasula, you'd better draw in your claws.
You're entitled to some consideration. But Von Blitz! Jacob, you are
standing on very thin ice. I can have you shot to-morrow morning."
Von Blitz sputtered and snarled. "It is all a lie! It is a trick!" He
would have drawn his revolver had not Rasula grasped his arm. The native
lawyer dragged him off toward the pier, half-doubting his own senses.
Just outside the harbour, plainly distinguishable in the moonlight, lay
a great cruiser, her searchlights whipping the sky and sea with long
white lashes.
The gaping, awe-struck crowd in the street parted to let Chase pass
through on his way to the bungalow. He was riding one of Wyckholme's
thoroughbreds, a fiery, beautiful grey. His manner was that of a
medieval conqueror. He looked neither to right nor to left, but kept his
eyes straight ahead, ignoring the islanders as completely as if they did
not exist.
"It's more like a Christian Endeavour meeting than it was ten minutes
ago," he was saying to himself, all the time wondering when some
reckless unbeliever would hurl a knife at his back. He gravely winked
his eye in the direction of the château. "Good old Britt!" he muttered
in his exultation.