THE hot day was over, and the light failing rapidly when Appleby, who
had just finished comida, sat by a window of the hacienda San Cristoval
with an English newspaper upon his knee. The room behind him, where
Harper lay in a cane chair, was already shadowy, but outside the saffron
sunset still flamed beyond the cane, and here and there a palm tuft cut
against it hard and sharp in ebony tracery. Inside the air was hot, and
heavy with the smell of garlic-tainted oil; but a faint cool draught
flowed in between the open lattices, and Appleby, who had been busy
since sunrise that day, sighed contentedly as he breathed it in. Beneath
him the long white sheds still glimmered faintly, and a troop of men
were plodding home along the little tram-line that wound through the
cane; while in the direction they came from the smoke of the crushing-
mill floated, a long, dingy smear, athwart the soft blueness, out of
which here and there a pale star was peeping.
Appleby was dressed in spotless duck, with a gray alpaca jacket over it,
and the thin garments showed his somewhat spare symmetry as he lay
relaxed in mind and body in his chair. He felt the peaceful stillness of
the evening after the strain of the day, for Harding had left him in
sole charge for some months now, and the handling of the men who worked
for him had taxed all his nerve and skill. By good-humored patience and
uncompromising grimness, when that appeared the more advisable, he had
convinced his swarthy subordinates that they would gain little by
trifling with him, though he had wondered once or twice when an open
dispute appeared imminent why it was that certain peons had so staunchly
supported him against their discontented comrades. It was not, however,
his difficulties with the workmen which caused him most concern, but the
task of keeping on good terms with an administration that regarded
aliens, and especially Americans, with a jealous eye, and appeasing the
rapacity of officials whose exactions would, if unduly yielded to, have
absorbed most of Harding's profits. To hit the happy medium was a
delicate business, but hitherto Appleby had accomplished it
successfully.
The cigar he held had gone out, but he had not noticed it for the paper
on his knee had awakened memories of the life he had left behind him. He
could look back upon it without regret, for its trammels had galled him,
and the wider scope of the new one appealed to him. In it the qualities
of foresight, quick decision, daring, and the power of command were
essential, and he had been conscious without vanity that he possessed
them. Also, though that counted for less, his salary and bonus on the
results of the crushing was liberal.
Still, he was thinking of England, for a paragraph in the paper had
seized his attention. There was nothing to show who had sent it him,
though two or three had reached him already, and he knew that Nettie
Harding was in England. He could scarcely see, but he held up the
journal to the fading light, and with difficulty once more deciphered
the lines:--
"The electrical manufacturing company have been very busy since the
consummation of their agreement with Mr. Anthony Palliser. Already their
factory at Dane Cop is in course of construction, and they have an army
of workmen laying the new tramway and excavating the dam. It is also
rumored that negotiations are in progress for the establishment of
subsidiary industries, and it is evident that Northrop will make a
stride towards prosperity under the enterprising gentleman who has
recently succeeded to the estate."
Appleby smiled curiously as he laid the paper down. Tony, it was
evident, would no longer be hampered by financial embarrassments, and
Appleby did not envy him the prosperity he had not hitherto been
accustomed to. Still, he wondered vaguely why Tony had never written to
the address in Texas, from which letters would have reached him,
especially since it appeared that Godfrey Palliser was dead. He was also
curious as to whether Tony was married yet, and would have liked to have
heard that he was. That, he felt, would have snapped the last tie that
bound him to the post, and made it easier to overcome the longing he was
sensible of when he remembered Violet Wayne. It would, he fancied, be
less difficult if he could think of her as Tony's wife. Then he brushed
away the fancies as Harper noisily moved his chair.
"Hallo!" he said. "Another of their blamed officers coming to worry us!"
Appleby heard a beat of hoofs, and looking down saw a man riding along
the tramway on a mule. It was too dark to see the stranger clearly, and
he sat still until there was a murmur of voices below, and a patter of
feet on the stairway.
"He is coming up," he said, with a trace of displeasure in his voice. "I
fancied I had made it plain that nobody was to be shown in until I knew
his business. Still, we can't turn him out now. Tell Pancho to bring in
the lights."
Harper rose, but as he did so the major-domo flung the door open, and
stood still with a lamp in his hand as a man walked into the room. He
made a little gesture of greeting, and Appleby checked a gasp of
astonishment. The major-domo set the lamp on the table, and then slipped
out softly, closing the door behind him.
"Don Maccario!" said Harper, staring at the stranger. "Now, I wonder
where he got those clothes."
Maccario smiled, and sat down uninvited. He was dressed in broadcloth
and very fine linen, and laid a costly Panama hat on the table. Then he
held out a little card towards Appleby.
"With permission!" he said. "Don Erminio Peralla, merchant in tobacco,
of Havana!"
Harper laughed when he had laid out a bottle and glasses, and the faint
rose-like bouquet of Canary moscatel stole into the room.
"That's a prescription you are fond of," he said. "The tobacco business
is evidently flourishing."
The last was in Castilian, and Maccario delicately rolled up the brim of
the hat and let it spring out again to show the beauty of the fabric,
while his dark eyes twinkled.
"It seems that one's efforts for the benefit of his countrymen are
appreciated now and then, but my business is the same," he said. "One
does not look for the patriot Maccario in the prosperous merchant of
tobacco, for those who would make mankind better and freer are usually
poor. That is all--but I am still a leader of the Sin Verguenza, and as
such I salute you, comrade."
He made Appleby a little inclination, which the latter understood, as he
drank off his wine. It implied that he, too, was still counted among the
Sin Verguenza.
"There is business on hand?" he said quietly, signing to Harper, who
moved towards the door.
Maccario, somewhat to his astonishment, checked Harper with a gesture.
"It is not necessary," he said. "There is nobody there. Morales is
sending his troops away, and by and by we seize the Barremeda district
for the Revolution."
"You want me?" asked Appleby very slowly.
A curious little smile crept into Maccario's eyes. "Where could one get
another teniente to equal you?"
Appleby sat very still. He had, he fancied, started on the way to
prosperity when he became Harding's manager, and while he sympathized
vaguely with the aspirations of the few disinterested Insurgents who
seemed to possess any he had seen sufficient of the Sin Verguenza. If he
could cling to the position it seemed not unlikely that a bright future
awaited him; and while free from avarice, he had his ambitions. On the
other hand, there were privations relieved only by the brief revelry
that followed a scene of rapine, weary marches, hungry bivouacs, and
anxious days spent hiding in foul morasses from the troops of Spain.
Still, he had already surmised that he would sooner or later have to
make the decision, and while he remembered the promise the ragged
outcasts had required of him a vague illogical longing for the stress of
the conflict awoke in him.
"Well," he said quietly, "when I am wanted I will be ready."
Maccario made him a very slight inclination, which was yet almost
stately and expressive, as only a Spaniard's gesture could be.
"It is as one expected, comrade; but perhaps we do not want you to carry
the rifle," he said. "It is the silver we have in the meanwhile the most
need of."
"What I have is my friends', to the half of my salary."
"We do not take so much from you. A little, yes, when the good will goes
with it; but there is more you can do for us."
"No!" and Appleby's voice, though quiet, had a little ring in it. "There
is nothing else."
Maccario lifted one hand. "It is arms we want most, my friend, and now
the patriotic committee are liberal we are getting them. There remains
the question of distribution and storage for the rifles as they some
from the coast, which is difficult. Still, I thing Morales would not
search one place, and that is the hacienda San Cristoval. It is evident
how you could help us."
"No," said Appleby grimly. "Not a single rifle shall be hidden here.
When the Sin Verguenza send for me I will join them, but in the
meanwhile I serve the Senor Harding. That implies a good deal, you
understand?"
Maccario appeared reflective. "A little hint sent Morales would, I
think, be effectual. Arrives a few files of cazadores with bayonets, and
the Senor Harding will want another manager."
"Oh yes," said Harper dryly as he sprang towards the door. "That's quite
simple, but the hint isn't sent yet. A word from me, and I guess the Sin
Verguenza would be left without a leader!"
Maccario looked round, and laughed softly as he saw the American
standing grim in face with his back to the door and a pistol glinting in
his hand.
"It is Don Bernardino I have the honor of talking with," he said.
"You have heard all I have to tell you," said Appleby. "I cannot embroil
the Senor Harding with Morales."
Maccario rose, and smiled at Harper. "It saves trouble when one has an
understanding; and now, my friends, I will show you something. The
major-domo had orders not to send up anybody without announcing him, but
he admitted me. Will you come out with me into the veranda?"
"Put your pistol up, Harper," said Appleby; but Maccario shook his head.
"Not yet, I think," he said. "Open that lattice so the light shines
through. Will you send for the men I mention, Don Bernardino?"
They did as he directed, and when they went out into the veranda Appleby
blew a whistle. It was answered by a patter of feet, and Appleby spoke
swiftly when a man appeared below.
"I have sent for the men. They are among the best we have, and supported
me when I had a difference with the rest," he said.