ON THE VERANDA
It was a clear, moonlight night when Pancho Brown, Mrs. Hatherly, and
Erminio Oliviera, the _Estremedura_'s captain, sat in big cane chairs on
the veranda of the Hotel Catalina, Las Palmas. The Catalina is long and
low, and fronted with a broad veranda, a rather more sightly building
than tourist hotels usually are, and its row of windows blazed that
night. They were, most of them, wide open, and the seductive strains of
a soft Spanish waltz drifted out with the rhythmic patter of feet and
swish of light draperies, for the winter visitors had organised a
concert and informal dance. A similar entertainment was apparently going
on in the aggressively English Metropole, which cut, a huge, square
block of building, against the shining sea a little further up the
straight white road, while the artillery band was playing in the alameda
of the town, a mile or two away. The deep murmur of the Atlantic surf
broke through the music in a drowsy undertone.
Pancho Brown was essentially English, a little, portly gentleman with a
heavy, good-humoured face. He was precise in dress, a little slow in
speech, and nobody at first sight would have supposed him to be
brilliant, commercially or otherwise. Still, he had made money, which
is, perhaps, the most eloquent testimony to anybody's business ability.
He was then meditatively contemplating his daughter, who was strolling
in the garden with a young English officer from the big white warship
in the harbour. A broad blaze of silver stretched back across the sea
towards the hazy blueness in the east beyond which lay Africa, and it
was almost as light as day. Mrs. Hatherly followed his gaze.
"An only daughter must be a responsibility now and then," she said. "I
have never had one of my own, but for the last few months my niece has
been living with me, and I have had my moments of anxiety."
Pancho Brown, who fancied she was leading up to something, smiled in a
fashion which suggested good-humoured indifference, though he was quite
aware that his daughter was then talking very confidentially to the
young naval officer.
"I am afraid I do not deserve your sympathy," he said. "Jacinta's mother
died when she was eight years old, but ever since she came home from
school in England Jacinta has taken care of me. In fact, I almost think
it is Jacinta who feels the responsibility. I am getting a little old,
and now and then my business enterprises worry me."
"And does that young girl know anything about them?"
"Jacinta," said Brown, "knows a good deal about everything, and it
really doesn't seem to do her any harm. In fact, I sometimes feel that
she knows considerably more than I do. I make mistakes now and then, but
if Jacinta ever does I am not aware of them."
"Still, a girl with Miss Brown's appearance--and advantages--must
naturally attract a good deal of attention, and, of course, one has----"
Brown smiled at her indulgently. "When Jacinta chooses her husband I
shall, no doubt, approve of him. I am not sure," he added, with an air
of reflection, "that it would make any great difference if I didn't."
"You are to be envied," said his companion, with a little sigh. "I feel
the responsibility circumstances have placed on me is unpleasantly
heavy, and I am almost sorry I missed the Madeira boat two or three
weeks ago. If we had gone in her we should not, of course, have been in
Las Palmas now."
"It is almost as evident that I should have been left forlorn to-night,"
said Brown, with cumbrous gallantry.
Mrs. Hatherly appeared to reflect. "It is a curious thing that Miss
Brown assured me we should not catch the steamer that night, though we
had apparently half an hour to spare; but in one respect it was perhaps
fortunate, after all. If we had gone to Madeira I should not have
consulted Dr. Lane, who seems to understand my case so thoroughly; but,
on the other hand, we should have seen no more of Mr. Jefferson."
"It is not such a long way to Madeira, and there is a steamer every week
or so. From what I know of Mr. Jefferson, I think it is possible he
would have gone there, too."
"You are well acquainted with him?"
Brown glanced at her with a faint twinkle in his eyes. "I know a little
about everybody in these islands, madam. Mr. Jefferson is considered a
straight man, and I may mention that he meets with Jacinta's approval. I
almost think I could vouch for his character. I wonder," and he smiled
genially, "if it would be as much to the purpose if I said that he had
just been left eight thousand pounds?"
"Eight thousand pounds is not very much," and Mrs. Hatherly turned to
him as if for guidance. "Mr. Jefferson called on me this afternoon, and
it would be almost three weeks before I could get a letter from Muriel's
father, who trusted her to me. Of course, a good deal would depend upon
what I said about him; but, after all, Muriel has not a penny of her
own."
"The sum in question is apt to go a long way when the man who has it is
an American, and I really think you could leave him and Miss Gascoyne to
settle the affair between them." Brown stopped a moment, and then added,
as if by an afterthought: "It is, of course, quite possible that they
have done so already; and, in any case, I am not sure, my dear madam,
that Jefferson would be very greatly discouraged by your opposition. He
is--as has been said--an American."
The little, red-cheeked lady made a gesture of resignation, but just
then Captain Oliviera, who spoke a little English, and appeared to feel
himself neglected, broke in:
"You come here for your healt, seA+-ora?" he said. "Bueno! My sobrecargo
go by the step, and he is savvy much the medsin. Me, he cure,
frecuentemente, by the morning. Ola, I call him!"
"Otra vez," said Brown, restrainingly, and Mrs. Hatherly favoured the
captain, who was big and lean and bronzed, with a glance of interested
scrutiny.
"You are an invalid, too?" she said. "One would scarcely fancy it. In
fact, you seem very robust to me. What do you suffer from?"
Brown made this a trifle plainer, and Don Erminio smiled. He had no
great sense of fitness, and was slightly reckless in his conversation.
"Mi t'roat, and the head of me--by the morning," he said, and made a
curious gurgling to give point to the explanation. "El sobrecargo he
laugh and say, 'Aha, mi captain, you want a peek-a-up again.' It is of
mucho effecto. I go call him. He make some for you."
"Peek-a-up!" said Mrs. Hatherly, and Brown laid his hand restrainingly
upon the gallant skipper's arm.
"It is a preparation they find beneficial at sea, though I do not think
it would suit your case," he said, and Oliviera roused himself to a
further effort.
"Good man, mi sobrecargo. Much education. Also friend of me. I say him
often: 'Carramba! In Spain is no dollar. Why you stay here?' Aha, SeA+-or
Austin savvy. By and by he marry a rich English seA+-orita."
It occurred to Mrs. Hatherly that Brown's face lost a trifle of its
usual placidity as his eyes rested on his daughter, who was, however,
still apparently talking to the naval officer. The Catalina did not
possess a particularly attractive garden then, but there were a few
dusty palms in it, and any one strolling in their shadow that moonlight
night could see the filmy mists drifting athwart the great black
cordillera, and the wisp of lights that twinkled above the hissing surf
along the sweep of bay until they ended in a cluster where the
white-walled city rose above the tossing spray. There were several pairs
of young men and women who apparently found the prospect attractive, but
Brown did not notice Austin among them. He and Mrs. Hatherly sat in the
shadow, but Oliviera was in the moonlight, which was probably how it
happened that a man who appeared in the lighted doorway close by turned
towards him, evidently without noticing the others.
"That you, Don Erminio? Then come right along," he said. "I've got to
give somebody a good time, and you have so much human nature it's easy
pleasing you. Get up on your hind feet, and have some champagne--enough
to make your throat bad for a month, if you feel like it."
Oliviera rose with alacrity. "Aha!" he said. "I come."
He wasted no time in doing it, though he reluctantly spared a moment to
make his companions a little grave inclination, for Don Erminio was,
after all, a Castilian, and when he had gone the two who were left
looked at one another. The joyous satisfaction in the voice and
attitude of the man at the door had its significance for both of them.
Mrs. Hatherly looked troubled, but there was a faint twinkle in her
companion's eyes.
"I wonder if Mr. Jefferson often gives his friends invitations of that
kind?" she said.
Brown smiled reassuringly. "I almost think I could answer for his
general abstemiousness. Still, there are occasions upon which even the
most sedate of us are apt to relax a little, and wish to share our
satisfaction with our friends."
"Then," said Mrs. Hatherly, with evident anxiety, "you fancy----"
"I should almost fancy this is one of the occasions in question."
The little, red-cheeked lady rose with a sigh. "I have tried to do my
duty," she said. "Now, I think I must find Muriel, if you will excuse
me."
She left him, and when Brown also sauntered into the hotel the veranda
remained empty until Jacinta came up the broad stairway just as it
happened that Austin came out of the door. She was attired diaphanously
in pale-tinted draperies, and seemed to Austin, almost ethereal as she
stopped a moment at the head of the stairway with the moonlight upon
her. He was, however, quite aware that material things had their value
to Jacinta Brown, and that few young women had a more useful stock of
worldly wisdom. In another moment she saw him, and made him a little
sign with her fan. He drew forward a chair, and then leaned against the
balustrade, looking down on her, for it was evident that Jacinta had
something to say to him.
"As I haven't seen you since that night on board the _Estremedura_, I
naturally haven't had an opportunity of complimenting you," she said.
"May I ask upon what?" and Austin looked a trifle uneasy.
"Your discretion. It would, perhaps, have been a little cold for a
moonlight swim, and one's clothing would also be apt to suffer. After
all, there was, of course, no reason why it should afford you any
pleasure to display your gallantry."
Austin's face flushed. "There have been other occasions when it would
have pleased me to twist Macallister's neck," he said. "No doubt you
overheard what he said to me?"
"I did," said Jacinta, who looked at him quietly over her fan. "It is a
little astonishing that neither of you noticed me. Still, of course,
your attitude was, at least, sensible. What I do not understand is why
you saw fit to change it a minute or two later. I had, I may mention,
left the poop then."
"I'm not sure I understand."
Jacinta laughed musically. "Now," she said, "I really believe you do."
"Well," said Austin, with a doubtful smile, "if you think I went
overboard of my own will to win your approbation, you are mistaken. I
did not go at all. I was, in fact, thrown in. Macallister is, as you
know, a somewhat persistent person."
"Ah!" said Jacinta. "That explains a good deal. Well, I feel almost
tempted to be grateful to him for doing it, though you were, of course,
sensible. There was really no reason why you should wish me to credit
you with courage and humanity--especially when you didn't possess them."
Austin hoped she did not see that he winced, for although he had borne a
good deal of her badinage, he felt his face grow hot. He was quite aware
that this girl was not for him, and he had, he believed, succeeded in
preventing himself falling in love with her. It seemed quite fitting
that she should regard him as one of her servants, and since he could
look for nothing more, he was content with that. He had, however, a
spice of temper, and sometimes she drove him a trifle too hard.
"Still," he said, "if I ever did anything really worth while, I think I
should insist upon your recognising it, though it is scarcely likely
that I shall have the opportunity."
"No," said Jacinta, reflectively, "I scarcely think it is; but, after
all, I have a little to thank you for. You see, you did delay the
_Estremedura_. I suppose you have not seen Mr. Jefferson during the last
half hour?"
"No," said Austin, with a little start of interest. "Has he----"
"He has. Muriel, at least, has evidently arrived at an understanding
with him. I am not sure they saw me, but I came across them a little
while ago--and they looked supremely happy."
There was satisfaction in her voice, but it was with a mildly ironical
and yet faintly wistful expression she gazed at the shining sea. It
somewhat astonished Austin, though there was so much about Jacinta that
was incomprehensible to him.
"Well," he said, "I'm glad; but I should scarcely have fancied Miss
Gascoyne would have attracted Jefferson. After all, one would hardly
consider her a young woman who had very much in her. Indeed, I have
wondered why you were so fond of her."
Jacinta smiled curiously as she looked at him. "She is wonderful to
Jefferson. There is no grace or goodness that she is not endued with in
his estimation."
"But if she doesn't possess them?"
"Then," said Jacinta, decisively, "because he believes she does, she
will acquire them. There are women like that, you know, and I am not
sure that sensible people like you and I don't lose the best of life
occasionally. If a man believes a girl of Muriel's kind angelic she is
very apt to unfold shining wings, though nobody else ever fancied that
she had anything of the kind about her."
"Ah!" said Austin, who was a little stirred, though he would not admit
it. "No doubt you know. A good many men must have thought that of you."
Jacinta laughed again. "No, my friend," she said. "I have met men who
thought me amusing, and two or three who thought me clever--but that is
a very different thing--while it is possible that the others remembered
I was Pancho Brown's daughter. So, you see, my wings have not unfolded.
In fact, I sometimes think they are in danger of shrivelling away."
There was nothing that Austin could say, for he was the _Estremedura_'s
sobrecargo, and had never forgotten that Pancho Brown was reputed to be
making several thousand a year. Still, he found silence difficult, and
changed the subject.
"Well," he said, "you haven't told me yet why you are so fond of Miss
Gascoyne."
"She--is--good, and, after all, goodness really does appeal to some of
us. Besides, when I went to an English school, a stranger, more Spanish
than English in thought and sentiment, and most of the others held aloof
from me, she saw I was lonely, and came and made friends with me. I was
glad to cling to her then, and you see I haven't forgotten it."
There was a tone in the girl's voice which sent a little thrill through
the man. It was very clear that Jacinta did not forget a kindness, and
he had once or twice already had glimpses of her deeper nature. While he
stood silent, and, as it happened, in the shadow, Miss Gascoyne came
out of the door and approached Jacinta with the moonlight on her face.
Austin was almost startled as he glanced at her.
When he had last seen Muriel Gascoyne he had considered her a comely
English girl without imagination or sensibility. She had, in fact,
appeared to him narrow in her views, totally unemotional, and more than
a little dull, certainly not the kind of young woman to inspire or
reciprocate passionate admiration in any discerning man. Now, as she
came towards him with her eyes shining and the soft colour in her face,
which was very gentle, she seemed transfigured and almost radiant. She
stooped and kissed Jacinta impulsively.
"I am so happy, my dear," she said. "We owe ever so much to you."
Austin had the grace to wish himself somewhere else, though he did not
see how he could get away, but Jacinta, with her usual boldness, turned
in his direction.
"Well," she said, "I almost think you owe Mr. Austin a little, too. If
he hadn't stopped the _Estremedura_ you would probably have been in
Madeira now."
Again Muriel Gascoyne astonished Austin, for though it was evident she
had not been aware of his presence, she showed no embarrassment, and
smiled at him with a simplicity which, though he had not expected it
from her, had in it the essence of all womanly dignity.
"Yes," she said, "I realise that. Mr. Austin, Harry has been looking for
you everywhere."
Austin made her a little grave inclination, and then, because she seemed
to expect it, shook hands with her.
"I am glad that the man you have promised to marry is one of my
friends," he said. "There is not a better one in these islands."
He did not remember what Miss Gascoyne said, and perhaps it was not of
any particular consequence, but when she left them it happened that he
and Jacinta did not look at one another. There was, in fact, an almost
embarrassing silence, and through it they heard the rhythmic swing of a
soft Spanish waltz, and the deep-toned murmur of the sea. Then Jacinta
laughed.
"I wonder what you are thinking?" she said.
Austin smiled, somewhat drily. "I was endeavouring to remember that
there are a good many things the _Estremedura_'s sobrecargo must
dispense with. It is exceedingly unlikely that anybody will ever leave
me eight thousand pounds."
"I fancy there are a good many of us who would like to have a good deal
more than we will probably ever get," said Jacinta. "It can only be a
very few who ever hear the celestial music at all, and to them it comes
but once in their life."
Austin looked at her quietly. "A little while ago I should not have
considered Miss Gascoyne capable of hearing it; but now, and because I
know the man she has promised to marry, I almost think she will, at
least occasionally, be able to catch an echo of it. It must be difficult
to hear that orchestra once and forget it."
Jacinta turned to him with a curious little smile in her eyes. "You and
I are, of course, sensible people, and fancies of that kind have nothing
to do with us. In the meanwhile, it is really necessary that I should
appear in one or two of the dances."
Austin made a little gesture that might have expressed anything, and she
rose and left him standing on the veranda.