TWO CALLS FROM THE ENEMY
Deppingham was up and about quite early the next morning--that is, quite
early for him. He had his rolls and coffee and strolled out in the shady
park for a smoke. The Princess, whose sense of humiliation had not been
lessened by the fitful sleep of the night before, was walking in the
shade of the trees on the lower terrace, beyond the fountains and the
artificial lake. A great straw hat, borrowed from Lady Agnes, shaded her
face from the glare of the mid-morning sun. Farther up the slope, one of
the maids was playing with the dogs. She waved her hand gaily and paused
to wait for him.
"I was thinking of you," she said in greeting, as he came up.
"How nice you are," he said. "But, my dear, is it wise in you to be
thinking of us handsome devils? It's a most dangerous habit--thinking of
other men."
"But, Deppy, dear, the Prince isn't here," she said, falling into his
humour. "That makes quite a difference, doesn't it?"
"Your logic is splendid. Pray resume your thoughts of me--if they were
pleasant and agreeable. I'll not blow on you to Karl."
"I was just thinking what a lucky fellow you are to have such a darling
as Agnes for a wife."
"You might as well say that Agnes ought to feel set up because Pong has
a nice coat. By the way, I have a compliment for you--no, not one of
their beastly trade-lasts! Browne says your hair is more beautiful than
Pong's. That's quite a compliment, Titian never even dreamed of hair
like Pong's."
"You know, Deppy," she said with a pout, "I am very unhappy about my
hair. It is quite red. I don't see why I should have hair like that of a
red cocker. It seems so animalish."
"Rubbish! Why should you complain? Look at my hair. It's been likened
more than once to that of a jersey cow."
"Oh, how I adore jersey cows! Now, I wouldn't mind that a bit."
They were looking toward the lower gates while carrying on this
frivolous conversation. A man had just entered and was coming toward
them. Both recognised the tall figure in grey flannels. Deppingham's
emotion was that of undisguised amazement; Genevra's that of confusion
and embarrassment. She barely had recovered her lost composure when the
newcomer was close upon them.
There was nothing in the manner of Chase, however, to cause the
slightest feeling of uneasiness. He was frankness itself. His smile was
one of apology, almost of entreaty; his broad grass helmet was in his
hand and his bow was one of utmost deference.
"I trust I am not intruding," he said as he came up. His gaze was as
much for Deppingham as for the Princess, his remark quite impersonal.
"Not at all, not at all," said Deppingham quickly, his heart leaping to
the conclusion that the way to the American bar was likely to be opened
at last. "Charmed to have you here, Mr. Chase. You've been most
unneighbourly. Have you been presented to her Highness, the--Oh, to be
sure. Of course you have. Stupid of me."
"We met ages ago," she said with an ingenuous smile, which would have
disarmed Chase if he had been prepared for anything else. As a matter of
fact, he had approached her in the light of an adventurer who expects
nothing and grasps at straws.
"In the dark ages," said he so ruefully that her smile grew. He had
come, in truth, to ascertain why her husband had not come with her.
"But not the forgotten variety, I fancy," said Deppingham shrewdly.
"It would be impossible for the Princess to forget the greatest of all
fools," said Chase.
"He was no worse than other mortals," said she.
"Thank you," said Chase. Then he turned to Lord Deppingham. "My visit
requires some explanation, Lord Deppingham. You have said that I am
unneighbourly. No doubt you appreciate my reasons. One has to respect
appearances," with a dry smile. "When one is in doubt he must do as the
Moslems do, especially if the Moslems don't want him to do as he wants
to do."
"No doubt you're right, but it sounds a bit involved," murmured
Deppingham. "Now that you are here you must do as the Moslems don't.
That's our Golden Rule. We'll consider the visit explained, but not
curtailed. Lady Deppingham will be delighted to see you. Are you ready
to come in, Princess?"
They started toward the château, keeping well in the shade of the boxed
trees, the Princess between the two men.
"I say, Chase, do you mind relieving my fears a bit? With all due
respect to your estimable clients, it occurs to me that they are likely
to break over the traces at any moment, and raise the very old Harry at
somebody else's expense. I'd like to know if my head is really safe.
Since your experience the other night, I'm a bit apprehensive."
"I came to see you in regard to that very thing, Lord Deppingham. I
don't want to alarm you, but I do not like the appearance of things.
They don't trust me and they hate you--quite naturally. I'm rather sorry
that our British man-of-war is out of reach. Pray, don't be alarmed,
Princess. It is most improbable that anything evil will happen. And, in
any event, we can hold out against them until relief comes."
"We?" demanded Deppingham.
"Certainly. If it comes to an assault of any kind upon the château, I
trust that I may be considered as one of you. I won't serve assassins
and bandits--at least, not after they've got beyond my control. Besides,
if the worst should come, they won't discriminate in my favour."
"Why do you stay here, Mr. Chase?" asked the Princess. "You admit that
they do not like you or trust you. Why do you stay?"
"I came out here to escape certain consequences," said he candidly.
"I'll stay to enjoy the uncertain ones. I am not in the least alarmed on
my own account. The object of my visit, Lord Deppingham, is to ask you
to be on your guard up here. After the next steamer arrives, and they
learn that Sir John will not withdraw me in submission to Rasula's
demand, with the additional news that your solicitors have filed
injunctions and have begun a bitter contest that may tie up the estate
for years--then, I say, we may have trouble. It is best that you should
know what to expect. I am not a traitor to my cause, in telling you
this; it is no more than I would expect from you were the conditions
reversed. Moreover, I do not forget that you gave me the man-of-war
opportunity. That was rather good fun."
"It's mighty decent in you, Chase, to put us on our guard. Would you
mind talking it over with Browne and me after luncheon? You'll stay to
luncheon, of course?"
"Thank you. It may be my death sentence, but I'll stay."
In the wide east gallery they saw Lady Deppingham and Bobby Browne,
deeply engrossed in conversation. They were seated in the shade of the
wisteria, and the two were close upon them before they heard their
voices. Deppingham started and involuntarily allowed his hand to go to
his temple, as if to check the thought that flitted through his brain.
"Good Lord," he said to himself, "is it possible that they are
considering that demmed Saunders's proposition? Surely they can't be
thinking of that!"
As he led the way across the green, Browne's voice came to them
distinctly. He was saying earnestly:
"The mere fact that we have come out to this blessed isle is a point in
favour of the islanders. Chase won't overlook it and you may be sure Sir
John Brodney is making the most of it. Our coming is a guarantee that we
consider the will valid. It is an admission that we regard it as sound.
If not, why should we recognise its provisions, even in the slightest
detail? Britt is looking for hallucinations and all--"
"Sh!" came in a loud hiss from somewhere near at hand, and the two in
the gallery looked down with startled eyes upon the distressed face of
Lord Deppingham. They started to their feet at once, astonishment and
wonder in their faces. They could scarcely believe their eyes. The
Enemy!
He was smiling broadly as he lifted his helmet, smiling in spite of the
discomfort that showed so plainly in Deppingham's manner.
Chase was warmly welcomed by the two heirs. Lady Agnes was especially
cordial. Her eyes gleamed joyously as she lifted them to meet his
admiring gaze. She was amazingly pretty. The conviction that Chase had
mistaken her for Lady Agnes, the evening before, took a fresh grasp upon
the mind of the Princess Genevra. A shameless wave of relief surged
through her heart.
Chase was presented to Drusilla Browne, who appeared suddenly upon the
scene, coming from no one knew where. There was a certain strained look
in the Boston woman's face and a suspicious redness near the bridge of
her little nose. As she had not yet acquired the Boston habit of wearing
glasses, whether she needed them or not, the irritation could hardly be
attributed to tight _pince nez_. Genevra made up her mind on the instant
that Drusilla was making herself unhappy over her good-looking husband's
attentions to his co-legatee.
"It's very good of you," said the Enemy, after all of them had joined in
the invitation. There was a peculiar twinkle in his eye as he asked this
rather confounding question: "Why is it that I am more fortunate than
your own attorneys? I am but a humble lawyer, after all, no better than
they. Would you mind telling me why I am honoured by an invitation to
sit at the table with you?" The touch of easy sarcasm was softened by
the frank smile that went with it. Deppingham, having been the first to
offend, after a look of dismay at his wife, felt it his duty to explain.
"It's--it's--er--oh, yes, it's because you're a diplomat," he finally
remarked in triumph. It was a grand recovery, thought he. "Saunders is
an ass and Britt would be one if Browne could only admit it, as I do.
Rubbish! Don't let that trouble you. Eh, Browne?"
"Besides," said Bobby Browne breezily, "I haven't heard of your clients
inviting _you_ to lunch, Mr. Chase. The cases are parallel."
"I'm not so sure about his clients' wives," said Deppingham, with a vast
haw-haw! Chase looked extremely uncomfortable.
"I am told that some of them are very beautiful," said Genevra sedately.
"Other men's wives always are, I've discovered," said Chase gallantly.
The party had moved over to the great stone steps which led down into
the gardens. Chase was standing beside Lady Deppingham and both of them
were looking toward his distant bungalow. He turned to the Princess with
the remark:
"That is my home. Princess. It is the first time I have seen it from
your point of view, Lady Deppingham. I must say that it doesn't seem as
far from the château to the bungalow as it does from the bungalow to the
château. There have been times when the château seemed to be thousands
of miles away."
"When in reality it was at your very feet," she said with a bright look
into his eyes. For some unaccountable reason, Genevra resented that look
and speech. Perhaps it was because she felt the rift of an undercurrent.
"Is that really where you live?" she asked, so innocently that Chase had
difficulty in controlling his expression.
At that instant something struck sharply against the stone column above
Chase's head. At least three persons saw the little puff of smoke in the
hills far to the right. Every one heard the distant crack of a rifle.
The bullet had dropped at Chase's feet before the sound of the report
came floating to their ears. No one spoke as he stooped and picked up
the warm, deadly missile. Turning it over in his fingers, an ugly thing
to look at, he said coolly, although his cheek had gone white:
"With Von Blitz's compliments, ladies and gentlemen. He is calling on
me, by proxy."
"Good God, Chase," cried Browne, "they're trying to murder us. Get back,
every one! Inside the doors!"
The women, white-faced and silent for the moment, turned to follow the
speaker.
"I'm sorry to bring my troubles to your door," said Chase. "It was meant
for me, not for any of you. The man who fired that did not intend to
kill me. He was merely giving voice to his pain and regret at seeing me
in such bad company." He was smiling calmly and did not take a single
step to follow them to safety.
"Come in, Chase! Don't stand out there to be shot at."
"I'll stay here for a few minutes, Mr. Browne, if you don't mind, just
to convince you all that the shot was not intended to kill. They're not
ready to kill me yet. I'm sure Lord Deppingham will understand. He has
been shot at often enough since he came to the island."
"By Jove, I should rather say I have," blurted out Deppingham. "'Pon my
word, they had a shot at me every time I tried to pluck a flower at the
roadside. I've got so used to it that I resent it when they don't have a
try at me."
"Think it was Von Blitz?" asked Browne.
"No. He couldn't hit the château at two hundred yards. It is a native.
They shoot like fury." He lighted a cigarette and coolly leaned against
the column, his gaze bent on the spot where the smoke had been seen. The
others were grouped inside the doors, where they could see without being
seen. A certain sense of horror possessed all of the watchers. It was as
if they were waiting to see him fall with a bullet in his
breast--executed before their eyes. Several minutes passed.
"For heaven's sake, why does he stand there?" cried the Princess at
last. "I can endure it no longer. It may be as he says it is, but it is
foolhardy to stand there and taunt the pride of that marksman. I can't
stay here and wait for it to come. How can--"
"He's been there for ten minutes, Princess," said Browne. "Plenty of
time for another try."
"I am not afraid to stand beside him," said Lady Agnes suddenly. She had
conquered her dread and saw the chance for something theatrical. Her
husband grasped her arm as she started toward the Enemy.
"None of that, Aggie," he said sharply.
Before they were aware of her intention, the Princess left the shelter
and boldly walked across the open space to the side of the man. He
started and opened his lips to give vent to a sharp command.
"It is so easy to be a hero, Mr. Chase, when one is quite sure there is
no real danger," she said, with distinct irony in her tones. "One can
afford to be melodramatic if he knows his part so well as you know
yours."
Chase felt his face burn. It was a direct declaration that he had
planned the whole affair in advance. He flicked the ashes from his
cigarette and then tossed it away, hesitating long before replying.
"Nevertheless, I have the greatest respect for the courage which brings
you to my side. I daresay you are quite justified in your opinion of me.
It all must seem very theatrical to you. I had not thought of it in that
light. I shall now retire from the centre of the stage. It will be
perfectly safe for you to remain here--just as it was for me." He was
leaving her without another word or look. She repented.
"I am sorry for what I said," she said eagerly. "And--" she looked up at
the hills with a sudden widening of her eyes--"I think I shall not
remain."
He waited for her and they crossed to the entrance together.
Luncheon was quite well over before the spirits of the party reacted
from the depression due to the shooting. Chase made light of the
occurrence, but sought to impress upon the others the fact that it was
prophetic of more serious events in the future. In a perfectly
cold-blooded manner he told them that the islanders might rise against
them at any time, overstepping the bounds of England's law in a return
to the primeval law of might. He advised the occupants of the château to
exercise extreme caution at all times.
"The people are angry and they will become desperate. Their interests
are mine, of course. I am perfectly sincere in saying to you, Lady
Deppingham, and to you, Mr. Browne, that in time they will win out
against you in the courts. But they are impatient; they are not the kind
who can wait and be content. It is impossible for you to carry out the
provisions of the will, and they know it. That is why they resent the
delays that are impending."
Deppingham told him of the scheme proposed by Saunders, treating it as a
vast joke. Chase showed a momentary sign of uneasiness, but covered it
instantly by laughing with the others. Strange to say, he had been
instructed from London to look out for just such a coup on the part of
the heirs. Not that the marriage could be legally established, but that
it might create a complication worth avoiding.
He could not help looking from Lady Deppingham to Bobby Browne, a
calculating gleam in his grey eyes. How very dangerous she could be! He
was quite ready to feel very sorry for pretty Mrs. Browne. Browne, of
course, revealed no present symptom of surrender to the charms of his
co-legatee. Later on, he was to recall this bit of calculation and to
enlarge upon it from divers points of view.
Just now he was enjoying himself for the first time since his arrival in
Japat. He sat opposite to the Princess; his eyes were refreshing
themselves after months of fatigue; his blood was coursing through new
veins. And yet, his head was calling his heart a fool.