her to carry her head high. "I can find my way back to the other deck."
He saw her disappear down the first ladder, reappear up the other,
mingle with the passengers and vanish. He then went forward to the
prow and stared down at the water, wondering if it held rest or pain or
what.
XII
THE GAME OF GOSSIP
During the concluding days of the voyage Elsa had her meals served on
deck. She kept Martha with her continually, promenaded only early in
the morning and at night while the other passengers were at dinner.
This left a clear deck. She walked quickly, her arm in Martha's,
literally propelling her along, never spoke unless spoken to, and then
answered in monosyllables. Her thoughts flew to a thousand and one
things: home, her father, episodes from school-life; toward anything
and everywhere like a land-bird lost at sea, futilely and vainly in the
endeavor to shut out the portrait of the broken man. In the midst of
some imaginary journey to the Sabine Hills she would find herself
asking: What was he doing, of what was he thinking, where would he go
and what would he do? She hated night which, no longer offering sleep,
provided nothing in lieu of it, and compelled her to remain in the
stuffy cabin. She was afraid.
Early Wednesday morning she passed Craig and Mallow; but the two had
wit enough to step aside for her and to speak only with their eyes.
She filled Craig with unadulterated fear. Never had he met a woman
such as this one. He warned Mallow at the beginning, without
explaining in detail, that she was fearless and dangerous. And, of
course, Mallow laughed and dragged along the gambler whenever he found
a chance to see Elsa at close range.
"There's a woman. Gad! that beach-comber has taste."
"I tell you to look out for her," Craig warned again. "I know what I'm
talking about."
"What's she done; slapped your face?"
"That kind of woman doesn't slap. Damn it, Mallow, she rammed a
hat-pin into me, if you will know! Keep out of her way."
Mallow whistled. "Oho! You probably acted like a fool. Drinking?"
Craig nodded affirmatively.
"Thought so. Even a Yokohama bar-maid will fight shy of a boozer. I'm
going to meet her when we get to Singapore, or my name's not Mallow."
Craig laughed with malice. "I hope she sticks the pin into your
throat. It will take some of the brag out of you. Think because
you've got picturesque gray hair and are as strong as a bull, that all
the women are just pining for you. Say, let's go aft and hunt up the
chap. I understand he's taken up quarters in the second-cabin."
"Doesn't want to run into me. All right; come on. We'll stir him up a
little and have some fun."
They found Warrington up in the stern, sitting on the deck, surrounded
by squatting Lascars, some Chinamen and a solitary white man, the chief
engineer's assistant. The center of interest was Rajah, who was
performing his tricks. Among these was one that the bird rarely could
be made to perform, the threading of beads. He despised this act as it
entailed the putting of a blunt needle in his beak. He flung it aside
each time Warrington handed it to him. But ever his master patiently
returned it. At length, recognizing that the affair might be prolonged
indefinitely, Rajah put two beads on the thread and tossed it aside.
The Lascars jabbered, the Chinamen grinned, and the chief engineer's
assistant swore approvingly.
"How much'll you take for him?"
"He's not for sale," answered Warrington.
The parrot shrilled and waddled back to his cage.
"Fine business for a whole man!"
Warrington looked up to meet the cynical eyes of Mallow. He took out
his cutty and fired it. Otherwise he did not move nor let his gaze
swerve. Mallow, towering above him, could scarcely resist the
temptation to stir his enemy with the toe of his boot. His hatred for
Warrington was not wholly due to his brutal treatment of him. Mallow
always took pleasure in dominating those under him by fear. Warrington
had done his work well. He had always recognized Mallow as his
employer, but in no other capacity: he had never offered to smoke a
pipe with him, or to take a hand at cards, or split a bottle. It had
not been done offensively; but in this attitude Mallow had recognized
his manager's disapproval of him, an inner consciousness of superiority
in birth and education. He had with supreme satisfaction ordered him
off the plantation that memorable night. Weak as the man had been in
body, there had been no indication of weakness in spirit.
Occultly Warrington read the desire in the other's eyes. "I shouldn't
do it, Mallow," he said. "I shouldn't. Nothing would please me better
than to have a good excuse to chuck you over the rail. Upon a time you
had the best of me. I was a sick man then. I'm in tolerable good
health at present."
"You crow, I could break you like a pipe-stem."
Mallow rammed his hands into his coat pockets, scowling contemptuously.
He weighed fully twenty pounds more than Warrington.
Crow! Warrington shrugged. In the East crow is a rough synonym for
thief. "You're at liberty to return to your diggings forward with that
impression," he replied coolly. "When we get to Singapore," rising
slowly to his height until his eyes were level with Mallow's, "when we
get to Singapore, I'm going to ask you for that fifty pounds, earned in
honest labor."
"And if I decline to pay?" truculently.
"We'll talk that over when we reach port. Now," roughly, "get out.
There won't be any baiting done to-day, thank you."
The chief engineer's assistant, a stocky, muscular young Scot, stepped
forward. He knew Mallow. "If there is, Mr. Warrington, I'm willing to
have a try at losing my job."
"Cockalorem!" jeered Mallow. Craig touched his sleeve, but he threw
off the hand roughly. He was one of the best rough and tumble fighters
in the Straits Settlements. "You thieving beach-comber, I don't want
to mess up the deck with you, but I'll cut your comb for you when we
get to port."
Warrington laughed insolently and picked up the parrot-cage. "I'll
bring the comb. In fact, I always carry it." Not a word to Craig, not
a glance in his direction. Warrington stepped to the companionway and
went below.
The chief engineer's assistant, whistling _Bide Awee_, sauntered
forward.
Craig could not resist grinning at Mallow's discomfiture. "Wouldn't
break, eh?"
"Shut your mouth! The sneaking dock-walloper, I'll take the starch out
of him when we land! Always had that high and mighty air. Wants folks
to think he's a gentleman."
"He was once," said Craig. "No use giving you advice; but he's not a
healthy individual to bait. I'm no kitten when it comes to scrapping;
but I haven't any desire to mix things with him." The fury of the man
who had given him the ducking was still vivid. He had been handled as
a terrier handles a rat.
"Bah!"
"Bah as much as you please. I picked you out of the gutter one night
in Rangoon, after roughing it with half a dozen Chinamen, and saved
your wad. I've not your reach or height, but I can lay about some.
He'll kill you. And why not? He wouldn't be any worse off than he is."
"I tell you he's yellow. And with a hundred-thousand in his clothes,
he'll be yellower still."
A hundred thousand. Craig frowned and gazed out to sea. He had
forgotten all about the windfall. "Let's go and have a peg," he
suggested surlily.
Immediately upon obtaining her rooms at Raffles Hotel in Singapore (and
leaving Martha there to await the arrival of the luggage, an imposing
collection of trunks and boxes and kit-bags), Elsa went down to the
American Consulate, which had its offices in the rear of the hotel.
She walked through the outer office and stood silently at the
consul-general's elbow, waiting for him to look up. She was dressed in
white, and in the pugree of her helmet was the one touch of color,
Rajah's blue feather. With a smile she watched the stubby pen crawl
over some papers, ending at length with a flourish, dignified and
characteristic. The consul-general turned his head. His kindly face
had the settled expression of indulgent inquiry. The expression
changed swiftly into one of delight.
"Elsa Chetwood!" he cried, seizing her hands. "Well, well! I am glad
to see you. Missed you when you passed through to Ceylon. Good
gracious, what a beautiful woman you've turned out to be! Sit down,
sit down!" He pushed her into a chair. "Well, well! When I saw you
last you were nineteen."
"What a frightful memory you have! And I was going to my first ball.
You used the same adjective."
"Is there a better one? I'll use it if there is. You've arrived just
in time. I am giving a little dinner to the consuls and their wives
to-night, and you will add just the right touch; for we are all a
little gray at the temples and some of us are a trifle bald. You see,
I've an old friend from India in town to-day, and I've asked him, too.
Your appearance evens up matters."
"Oh; then I'm just a filler-in!"
"Heavens, no! You're the most important person of the lot, though
Colonel Knowlton . . ."
"Colonel Knowlton!" exclaimed Elsa.
"That's so, by George! Stupid of me. You came down on the same boat.
Fine! You know each other."
Elsa straightened her lips with some difficulty. She possessed the
enviable faculty of instantly forming in her mind pictures of coming
events. The little swelling veins in the colonel's nose were as plain
to her mind's eye as if he really stood before her. "Have him take me
in to dinner," she suggested.
"Just what I was thinking of," declared the unsuspecting man. "If any
one can draw out the colonel, it will be you."
"I'll do my best." Elsa's mind was full of rollicking malice.
Contemplatively he said: "So you've been doing the Orient alone? You
are like your father in that way. He was never afraid of anything.
Your mental make-up, too, I'll wager is like his. Finest man in the
world."
"Wasn't he? How I wish he could have always been with me! We were
such good comrades. They do say I am like father. But why is it,
every one seems appalled that I should travel over here without male
escort?"
"The answer lies in your mirror, Elsa. Your old nurse Martha is no
real protection."
"Are men so bad, then?"
"They are less restrained. The heat, the tremendous distances, the
lack of amusements, are perhaps responsible. The most difficult thing
in the world to amuse is man. By the way, here's a packet of letters
for you."
"Thanks." Elsa played with the packet, somberly eying the
superscriptions. The old disorder came back into her mind. Three of
the letters were from Arthur. She dreaded to open them.
"Now, I'll expect you to come to the apartments and have tea at five."
"Be glad to. Only, don't have any one else. I just want to visit and
talk as I used to."
"I promise not to invite anybody."
"I must be going, then. I'm not sure of my tickets to Hongkong."
"Go straight to the German Lloyd office. The next P. & O. boat is
booked full. Don't bother to go to Cook's. Everybody's on the way
home now. Go right to the office. I'll have my boy show you the way.
Chong!" he called. A bright-eyed young Chinese came in quickly and
silently from the other room. "Show lady German Lloyd office. All
same quick."
"All light. Lady come."
"Until tea."
In the outer office she paused for a moment or so to look at the
magazines and weeklies from home. The Chinese boy, grinning
pleasantly, peered curiously at Elsa's beautiful hands. She heard some
one enter, and quite naturally glanced up. The newcomer was Mallow.
He stared at her, smiled familiarly and lifted his helmet.
Elsa, with cold unflickering eyes, offered his greeting no recognition
whatever. The man felt that she was looking through him, inside of
him, searching out all the dark comers of his soul. He dropped his
gaze, confused. Then Elsa calmly turned to the boy.
"Come, Chong."
There was something in the manner of her exit that infinitely puzzled
him. It was the insolence of the well-bred, but he did not know it.
To offset his chagrin and confusion, he put on his helmet and passed
into the private office. She was out of his range of understanding.
Mallow was an American by birth but had grown up in the Orient,
hardily. In his youth he had been beaten and trampled upon, and now
that he had become rich in copra (the dried kernels of cocoanuts from
which oil is made), he in his turn beat and trampled. It was the only
law he knew. He was without refinement, never having come into contact
with that state of being long enough to fall under its influence. He
was a shrewd bargainer; and any who respected him did so for two
reasons, his strength and his wallet. Such flattery sufficed his
needs. He was unmarried; by inclination, perhaps, rather than by
failure to find an agreeable mate. There were many women in Penang and
Singapore who would have snapped him up, had the opportunity offered,
despite the fact that they knew his history tolerably well.
Ordinarily, when in Penang and Singapore, he behaved himself, drank
circumspectly and shunned promiscuous companions. But when he did
drink heartily, he was a man to beware of.
He hailed the consul-general cordially and offered him one of his
really choice cigars, which was accepted.
"I say, who was that young woman who just went out?"
The consul-general laid down the cigar. The question itself was
harmless enough; it was Mallow's way of clothing it he resented.
"Why?" he asked.
"She's a stunner. Just curious if you knew her, that's all. We came
down on the same boat. Hanged if I shouldn't like to meet her."
"You met her on board?"
"I can't say that. Rather uppish on the steamer. But, do you know
her?" eagerly.
"I do. More than that, I have always known her. She is the daughter
of the late General Chetwood, one of the greatest civil-engineers of
our time. When he died he left her several millions. She is a
remarkable young woman, a famous beauty, known favorably in European
courts, and I can't begin to tell you how many other accomplishments
she has."
"Well, stump me!" returned Mallow. "Is that all straight?"
"Every word of it," with a chilliness that did not escape a man even so
impervious as Mallow.
"Is she a free-thinker?"
"What the devil is that? What do you mean?"
"Only this, if she's all you say she is, why does she pick out an
absconder for a friend, a chap who dare not show his fiz in the States?
I heard the tale from a man once employed in his office back in New
York. A beach-comber, a dock-walloper, if there ever was one."
"Mallow, you'll have to explain that instantly."
"Hold your horses, my friend. What I'm telling you is on the level.
She's been hobnobbing with the fellow all the way down from the
Irrawaddy, so I'm told. Never spoke to any one else. Made him sit at
her side at table and jabbered Italian at him, as if she didn't want
others to know what she was talking about. I know the man. Fired him
from my plantation, when I found out what he was. Can't recall his
name just now, but he is known out here as Warrington; Parrot & Co."
The consul-general was genuinely shocked.
"You can't blame me for thinking things," went on Mallow. "What man
wouldn't? Ask her about Warrington. You'll find that I'm telling the
truth, all right."
"If you are, then she has made one of those mistakes women make when
they travel alone. I shall see her at tea and talk to her. But I do
not thank you, Mallow, for telling me this. A finer, loyaler-hearted
girl doesn't live. She might have been kind out of sympathy."
Mallow bit off the tip of his cigar. "He's a handsome beggar, if you
want to know."
"I resent that tone. Better drop the subject before I lose my temper.
I'll have your papers ready for you in the morning." The
consul-general caught up his pen savagely to indicate that the
interview was at an end.
"All right," said Mallow good-naturedly. "I meant no harm. Just
naturally curious. Can't blame me."
"I'm not blaming you. But it has disturbed me, and I wish to be alone
to think it over."
Mallow lounged out, rather pleased with himself. His greatest pleasure
in life was in making others uncomfortable.
The consul-general bit the wooden end of his pen and chewed the
splinters of cedar. He couldn't deny that it was like Elsa to pick up
some derelict for her benefactions. But to select a man who was
probably wanted by the American police was a frightful misfortune.
Women had no business to travel alone. It was all very well when they
toured in parties of eight or ten; but for a charming young woman like
Elsa, attended by a spinster companion who doubtless dared not offer
advice, it was decidedly wrong. And thereupon he determined that her
trip to Yokohama should find her well guarded.
"I beg your pardon," said a pleasant voice.
The consul-general had been so deeply occupied by his worry that he had
not noticed the entrance of the speaker. He turned impatiently. He
saw a tall blond man, bearded and tanned, with fine clear blue eyes
that met his with the equanimity of the fearless.
XIII
AFTER TEN YEARS
The consul-general had, figuratively, a complete assortment of masks,
such as any thorough play-actor might have, in more or less constant
demand, running the gamut from comedy to tragedy. Some of these masks
grew dusty between ships, but could quickly be made presentable.
Sometimes, when large touring parties came into port, he confused his
masks, being by habit rather an absent-minded man. But he possessed a
great fund of humor, and these mistakes gave him laughable
recollections for days.
He saw before him an exquisite, as the ancient phrase goes, backed by
no indifferent breed of manhood. Thus, he believed that here was a
brief respite (as between acts) in which the little plastic hypocrisies
could be laid aside. The pleasant smile on his high-bred face was all
his own.
"And what may I do for you, sir?" He expected to be presented with
letters of introduction, and to while away a half-hour in the agreeable
discussion of mutual acquaintance.
"I should like a few minutes' private talk with you," began the
well-dressed stranger. "May I close the door?" The consul-general,
with a sense of disappointment, nodded. The blond man returned and sat
down. "I don't know how to begin, but I want you to copy this
cablegram and send it under your own name. Here it is; read it."
So singular a request filled the consul-general with astonishment.
Rather mechanically he accepted the slip of paper, adjusted his
glasses, and read--
"The Andes Construction Company, New York: A former employee of yours
wishes to make a restitution of eight thousand dollars, with interest
to date. He dares not give his name to me, but he wishes to learn if
this belated restitution will lift the ban against his returning to
America and resuming his citizenship. Reply collect."
"This is an extraordinary request to make to me, sir."
"I know it."
"But why bring it to me?"
"Could I possibly offer that to the cable operator? Without name or
address? No; I could not do it without being subjected to a thousand
questions, none of which I should care to answer. So I came to you.
Passing through your hands, no one will question it. Will you do this
favor for a poor unfortunate devil?"
Oddly enough, the other could not get away from his original
impression. The clothes, the way the man wore them, the clarity of his
eyes, the abundant health that was expressed by the tone of the skin,
derided such a possibility as the cablegram made manifest.
He forced the smile back to his lips. "Are you sure you're not hoaxing
me?"
"No. I am the victim of the hoax," enigmatically. "If one may call
the quirks of fate by the name of hoax," the stranger added. "Will you
send it?"
The years he had spent in the consular service had never brought before
him a situation of this order. He did not know exactly what to do. He
looked out of the window, into the hotel-court, at the sky which
presently would become overcast with the daily rain-clouds. By and by
he remembered the man waiting patiently at his elbow.
"What is your name?"
"My real name, or the one by which I am known here?"
"Your real one."
"I'd rather not give that until I hear from New York."
"Well, that is reasonable."
"I am known out here by the name of Warrington."
Warrington. The puzzlement vanished from the older man's face, and his
eyes became alert, renewing from another angle their investigation of
the stranger. Warrington. So this was the man? He could understand
now. Who could blame a girl for making a mistake when he, a seasoned
veteran, had been beguiled by the outward appearance of the man?
Mallow was right. He was a handsome beggar.
"I promise to send this upon one condition."
"I accept without question," readily.
"It is that you must keep away from Elsa Chetwood, now and hereafter.
You made her acquaintance under false pretenses."
"I deny that. Not under false pretenses." How quickly things went
about! "Let me tell you how I met her."
The consul-general listened; he listened with wonder and interest, and
more, with conviction that the young man had been perfectly honest.
But the knowledge only added to his growing alarm. It would not be
difficult for such a man to win the regard of any young woman.
"And you told her what you had done?"
"Yes."
"Your first misstep?" touching the cablegram.
"My first and only misstep. I was a careless, happy-go-lucky young
fool." The sky outside also had attraction for Warrington. A thousand
times a fool!
"How long ago did this happen?"
"Ten years this coming April."
"And now, after all this time, you wish to go back?"
"I have wished to go back many times, but never had money enough. I
have plenty now. Oh, I made it honestly," smiling. "In oil, at Prome.
Here's a cutting from a Rangoon paper."
The other read it carefully. It was romance, romance such as he liked
to read in his books, but which was mighty bewildering to have at his
elbow in actuality. What a life the man must have led! And here he
was, with no more evidence of the conflict than might be discerned in
the manliness of his face and the breadth and depth of his shoulders.
He dropped the cutting, impatiently.
"Don't you believe it?"
"Believe it? Oh, this? Yes," answered the consul-general. "What I
can not believe is that I am awake. I can not quite make two and two
equal four."
"Which infers?"
"That I can not . . . Well, you do not look like a man who would rob
his employer of eight thousand dollars."
"Much obliged."
"Parrot & Co. It's odd, but I recollect that title. You were at
Udaipur during the plague."
Warrington brightened. "So that's got about? I happened to be there,
working on the prince's railway."
"I will send the cable at once. You will doubtless hear from New York
in the morning. But you must not see Miss Chetwood again."
"You will let me bid her good-by? I admire and respect her more than
any other woman. She does not know it, for as yet her soul is asleep;
but she is one of those few women God puts on earth for the courage and
comfort of man. Only to say good-by to her. Here in this office, if
you wish."
"I agree to that."
"Thank you again." Warrington rose.
"I am genuinely sorry for you. If they say no, what will you do?"
"Go back just the same. I have another debt to cancel."
"Call in the morning. I'll let you know what the charges are."
"I forgot. Here are twenty pounds. You can return the balance when I
call. I am very grateful."
"By the way, there is a man here by the name of Mallow," began the
consul-general.
"Yes," interrupted Warrington, with a smile which was grim and cruel.
"I expect to call upon him. He owes me something like fifty pounds,
and I am going to collect it." Then he went out.
The consul-general dropped Mallow's perfecto into the waste-basket and
lighted his pipe. Once more he read the cablegram. The Andes
Construction Company. What a twist, what an absurd kink in the skein!
Nearly all of Elsa's wealth lay bound up in this enormous business
which General Chetwood had founded thirty odd years before. And
neither of them knew!
"I am not a bad man at heart," he mused, "but I liked the young man's
expression when I mentioned that bully Mallow."
He joined his family at five. He waved aside tea, and called for a
lemon-squash.
"Elsa, I am going to give you a lecture."
"Didn't I tell you?" cried Elsa to the wife. "I felt in my bones that
he was going to say this very thing." She turned to her old-time
friend. "Go on; lecture me."
"In the first place, you are too kind-hearted."
"That will be news to my friends. They say I have a heart of ice."