talking about if I knew just what this difficulty is."
"Why, this silly 'engagement' of yours. Don't pretend to be so stupid."
"Ramon Alfarez heard that same report, and very courteously invited me
to wait a few minutes while he killed me. It's tremendously flattering
to be linked up with Miss Garavel, of course, but I haven't asked her
to marry me."
"But you've seen her; you have called at her house!"
"Sure! Twice; at the invitation of the old gentleman. All the little
Garavels were lined up like mourners."
"And you dined there last night. Is that all you have seen of her?"
"N-no! I've seen her at Las Savannas. That's why I went hunting so
often."
At this confession, which Kirk delivered with sheepish reluctance, Mrs.
Cortlandt drew herself up with an expression of anger.
"Then this has been going on for some time," she cried. "Why, Kirk, you
never told me!"
"Why should I?"
She flushed at this unconscious brutality, but after a moment ran on
bravely; "Oh, well, I suppose any man would enjoy that sort of an
adventure, particularly with such a pretty girl, but why did you let it
go so far? Why did you let them commit you?"
"Am I committed?"
Her look was half offended, half incredulous. "Are you trying to be
disagreeable, or is it possible you don't know the meaning of those
invitations to call, and to dine with the family, and all that? Why,
they expect you to MARRY her. It is all settled now, according to the
Spanish custom. The whole town is talking about it, I can't understand,
for the life of me, how you ever allowed yourself to go there the
second time and to DINE." Seeing the look in his face, she cried,
sharply, "You don't mean--that you're in earnest?" She was staring at
him as if disbelieving her eyes.
"Certainly, I'm in earnest."
Edith turned away abruptly.
"I hope you're not joking," said Kirk. "Jove! I--I'm knocked clear off
my pins." A tremendous wave of excitement surged over him. "So, that's
what Alfarez meant. That's what SHE meant last night when she told me
to look up--" He broke off suddenly, for Edith's face had gone
chalk-white.
"But, Kirk, what about me?" she asked, in a strained voice.
There was deathlike silence in the room.
"You can't LOVE her," said the woman. "Why, she's only a child, and
she's--Spanish."
They stood motionless, facing each other. At last Kirk said, gravely
and deliberately,
"Yes, I love her better than anything in the world and I want to marry
her. I could give up my country, my dad--anything for her."
Pressing her gloved fingers to her temples she turned her head blindly
from side to side, whispering as if to herself:
"What will become of me?"
"Don't," he cried, in a panic, and cast a hurried look over his
shoulders. "You'll be overheard--you'll be seen. You don't know what
you're saying. Where's Cortlandt?"
"At his club, I suppose. I don't know--I--I don't care." Then the
paralysis that had numbed her vanished, and she spoke with quivering
intensity. "You've been dishonest with me, Kirk."
"Don't act this way," he ordered, roughly. "I'm terribly fond of you,
but I never knew--"
"You MUST have known."
"I knew NOTHING. I chose not to think. What I saw I forgot. I supposed
you merely liked me as I liked you."
"That night at Taboga!" she flared up. "What about that? Couldn't you
tell then? I fought--fought--fought--but I had to give up. You haven't
forgotten--those wonderful hours we had together?" She began to sob,
but steadied herself with an effort. "You say you didn't know, then
what about that afternoon in the jungle? Oh, you're not blind; you must
have seen a thousand times. Every hour we've been alone together I've
told you, and you let me go on believing you cared. Do you think that
was right? Now you are shocked because I admit it," she mocked. "Well,
I have no pride. I am not ashamed. It's too late for shame now. Why,
even my husband knows."
With an exclamation he seized her by the arm. "You don't mean that!" he
cried, fiercely. But she wrenched herself away.
"Why, do you think, I made a man of you? Why did I force you up and up
and over the heads of others? Why are you in line for the best position
on the railroad? Did you think you had made good by your own efforts?"
She laughed harshly. "I took Runnels and Wade and Kimble and the others
that you liked and forced them up with you, so you'd have an
organization that couldn't be pulled down."
"Did--did you do all that?"
"I did more. I broke with Alfarez because of what his son did to you. I
juggled the politics of this country, I threw him over and took
Garavel--Garavel! My God! What a mockery! But I won't let you--I won't
let that girl spoil my work." Her voice trailed off in a kind of
rasping whisper. She struggled a moment for composure, then went on:
"It was I who promoted you to Runnels' position--he'll tell you that.
It was I who put ideas of advancement into his head. I fostered this
quarrel between Jolson and the Superintendent, and I've used Runnels to
break trail for you. Why? Ask yourself why! Oh, Kirk," she cried, "you
mustn't marry that girl! I'll make you a great man!"
"You seem to forget Cortlandt," he said, dully.
She gave a scornful laugh. "You needn't bring Stephen in. He doesn't
count. I doubt if he'd even care. Our marriage amounts to
nothing--nothing. You'd better consider ME, and the sacrifice I'm
willing to make."
"I'm not going to listen to you," he cried. "I suppose I've been a
fool, but this must end right here."
"You can't marry that girl," she reiterated, hysterically. She was half
sobbing again, but not with the weakness of a woman; her grief was more
like that of a despairing man.
"For Heaven's sake, pull yourself together," said Kirk. "You have
servants. I--I don't know what to say. I want to get out, I want to
think it over. I'm--dreadfully sorry. That's all I can seem to think
about now." He turned and went blindly to the door, leaving her without
a look behind.
When he had gone she drew off her riding-gloves, removed her hat, and
dropped them both upon the nearest chair, then crept wearily up the
stairs to her room.
A moment later the latticed wooden blinds at the end of the parlor
swung open, and through the front window stepped Stephen Cortlandt.
Behind him was a hammock swung in the coolest part of the balcony. The
pupils of his eyes, ordinarily so dead and expressionless, were
distended like those of a man under the influence of a drug or
suffering from a violent headache. He listened attentively for an
instant, his head on one side, then, hearing footsteps approaching from
the rear of the house, he strolled into the hall.
A maid appeared with a tray, a glass, and a bottle. "I could not find
the aspirin," she said, "but I brought you some absinthe. It will
deaden the pain, sir."
He thanked her and with shaking fingers poured the glass full, then
drank it off like so much water.
"You're not going out again in the heat, sir?"
"Yes. Tell Mrs. Cortlandt that I am dining at the University Club." He
went slowly down the steps and out through the flowering shrubs.
XXIII
A PLOT AND A SACRIFICE
Kirk never passed a more unpleasant night than the one which followed.
In the morning he went straight to Runnels with the statement that he
could take no part in the little testimonial they had intended to give
Cortlandt.
"But it's too late now to back out. I saw him at the University Club
last evening and fixed the date for Saturday night."
"Did you tell him I was in the affair?"
"Certainly. I said it was your idea. It affected him deeply, too. I
never saw a chap so moved over a little thing."
Kirk thought quickly. Perhaps Edith had spoken rashly in her
excitement, and her husband did not know her feelings after all.
Perhaps he only suspected. In that case it would never do to withdraw.
It would seem like a confession of guilt.
"If he has accepted, that ends it, I suppose," he said, finally.
"What has happened?" Runnels was watching him sharply.
"Nothing. I merely wish I hadn't entered into the arrangement, that's
all. I've ordered a watch for him, too, and it's being engraved. I
wanted to give him something to show my own personal gratitude for what
he and his wife have done for me. Lord! It took a month's salary. I
know it's a jay present, but there's nothing decent in these shops."
"Look here! I've wanted to say something to you for some time, though
it's deuced hard to speak of such things. Maybe I have more moral
scruples than some people, but--" Runnels stirred uncomfortably in his
chair. "Steve Cortlandt has put us where we are--you understand, when I
speak of him I include his wife, too. Well, I like him, Kirk, and I'd
hate to see him made unhappy. If a chap loves a married woman, he ought
to be man enough to forget it. Rotten way to express myself, of
course--"
Kirk looked the speaker squarely in the eyes as he answered: "I don't
understand what you're driving at. I haven't the least interest in any
married man's affairs--never have had, in fact. I'm in love with
Gertrudis Garavel, and I'm engaged to marry her."
"The devil!"
"It's a fact. I didn't know until last night that I'd been accepted."
"Then just forget what I said. I was going north on a south-bound
track--I ran ahead of orders. I really do congratulate you, old man;
Miss Garavel is--well, I won't try to do her justice--I had no idea.
Please pardon me."
"Certainly! Now that it's settled I'm not going to let any grass grow
under my feet."
"Why, say! Garavel is to be the next President! Jove! You ARE lucky!
Cortlandt told me last night that the old fellow's candidacy was to be
announced Saturday night at the big ball; that's how he came to accept
our invitation. He said his work would be over by then and he'd be glad
to join us after the dance. Well, well! Your future wife and
father-in-law are to be his guests that night, I suppose you know."
"Then they have patched up a truce with Alfarez? I'm glad to hear that."
"It's all settled, I believe. This dance is a big special event. The
American Minister and the various diplomatic gangs will be there,
besides the prominent Spanish people. It's precisely the moment to
launch the Garavel boom, and Cortlandt intends to do it. After it's
over, our little crowd will have supper and thank him for what he has
done for us. Oh, it will be a big night all around, won't it? Do you
realize the skyrockety nature of your progress, young man? Lord! You
take my breath."
"It does seem like a dream. I landed here with a button-hook for
baggage, and now--Say, Runnels, her eyes are just like two big black
pansies, and when she smiles you'll go off your trolley."
"Your promotion came just in time, didn't it? Talk about luck! We ought
to hear from Washington before Saturday and know that our jobs are
cinched. This uncertainty is fierce for me. You know I have a wife and
kid, and it means a lot. When you give Cortlandt that watch you'll have
to present him with a loving-cup from the rest of us. I think it's
coming to him, don't you?"
"I--I'd rather you presented it."
"Not much! I can run trains, but I can't engineer social functions.
You'll have to be spokesman. I suppose jobs and increased salaries and
preferments, and all that, don't count for much with a young fellow who
is engaged to the fabulous Miss Garavel, but with the Runnels family
it's different. Meanwhile, let's just hold our thumbs till our
promotions are ratified from headquarters. I need that position, and
I'm dying of uneasiness."
The night had been as hard for Edith Cortlandt as it had been for Kirk,
but during its sleepless hours she had reached a determination. She was
not naturally revengeful, but it was characteristic of her that she
could not endure failure. Action, not words or tears, was the natural
outlet of her feelings. There was just one possible way of winning Kirk
back, and if instead it ruined him she would be only undoing what she
had mistakenly done. As soon after breakfast as she knew definitely
that her husband had gone out, she telephoned to General Alfarez,
making an appointment to call on him at eleven.
It was the first time she had ever gone to see him, for she was in the
habit of bringing people to her, but this was no ordinary occasion, and
she knew the crafty old Spaniard would be awaiting her with eagerness.
Her interview with him was short, however, and when she emerged from
his house she ordered the coachman to drive directly to the Garavel
Bank. This time she stayed longer, closeted with the proprietor. What
she told him threw him into something like a panic. It seemed that
Anibal Alfarez was by no means so well reconciled to the death of his
political hopes as had been supposed. On the contrary, in spite of all
that had been done to prevent it, he had been working secretly and had
perfected the preliminaries of a coup which he intended to spring at
the eleventh hour. Through Ramon, he had brought about an alliance with
the outgoing Galleo, and intended to make the bitterest possible fight
against Garavel. Such joining of forces meant serious trouble, and
until the banker's position was materially strengthened it would be
most unwise to announce his candidacy as had been planned. The General
had worked with remarkable craftiness, according to Mrs. Cortlandt's
account, and Galleo's grip upon the National Assembly was so strong as
to threaten all their schemes. She did not go into minute
details--there was no need, for the banker's fears took fire at the
mere fact that Alfarez had revolted. He was dumfounded, appalled.
"But it was only last week that we were assured that all was well," he
cried in despair.
She shrugged her shoulders. "One is privileged to change his mind
overnight, I suppose. Politics is not a child's game."
"Oh, I am sorry I ever entertained the proposal. To be defeated now
would do me immeasurable harm, not only in my pride, but in my business
affairs. My affiliations with the government are of the closest--they
must be, for me to live. To be a candidate, to make the fight, and to
be beaten! What consideration will come to the firm of Garavel
Hermanos, think you?"
"Not much, but you are not so deeply committed that you cannot
withdraw."
This cool suggestion brought the expected outburst. "Rather than such a
disgrace," cried Garavel, "I would go to certain defeat. One's pride is
not for sale, madame. What has caused this so sudden change of
sentiment?"
"Ramon is partly to blame. He is just as proud as you or as his father.
When he heard of your daughter's engagement to our friend Anthony--"
"Ah! Now I see it all." His face darkened. "So, this is my reward for
heeding your advice in regard to Gertrudis. She should have wed Ramon,
as was intended, then I would have had a lever with which to lift his
father from my path. Very well, then, there is no engagement with this
Anthony. It may not be too late even yet to capture Ramon."
"The city is already talking about Gertrudis and Kirk."
"No word has been spoken, no promise given. There is not even an
understanding. It is merely an old custom that has caused this report.
He seemed a pleasant fellow, she had dreams, so--I yielded. But do you
suppose I would allow my great ambition to be thwarted by the whim of a
girl--to be upset by a stranger's smile? Bah! At their age I loved a
dozen. I could not survive without them." He snapped his fingers. "You
see now the truth of what I told you when we first spoke of my
daughter. It is the older heads that must govern, always. I should have
foreseen this effect, but Ramon was offended, and he said too little.
Now, I admire his spirit; he is desperate; he will fight; he is no
parrot to sit by and see his cage robbed. So much the better, since he
is the pivot upon which this great affair revolves. You see what must
be done?"
"Certainly."
"Come! We will see my friend Anibal at once."
But Mrs. Cortlandt checked him, saying, quietly:
"That is all right as far as it goes, but you forget the other young
man."
Garavel paused in his heavy strides across the room.
"Eh? How so? Gertrudis will not marry this Anthony."
"Perhaps she loves him."
"Love is a fancy, a something seen through a distant haze, an illusion
which vanishes with the sun. In a month, a year, she will have
forgotten; but with me it is different. This is my life's climax; there
will be no other. I am a Garavel; I have looked into the future and I
cannot turn back. I think also of Panama herself. There are great
issues at stake."
"But how will you handle Anthony?"
Garavel looked at her blankly. "He is in my way. He is ended! Is not
that all?"
"I am glad you are practical; so many of you Latin-Americans are
absurdly romantic."
"And why should I not be practical? I am a business man. I love but two
things, madame--no, three: my daughter, my success, and--my country. By
this course I will serve all three."
"Since you take this view of it, I am sure that with Ramon's help we
can dissuade Don Anibal from his course. The General is sensible, and
doesn't want a fight any more than you do. If your daughter will
consent--"
"My dear lady, give yourself no uneasiness. She does not know the
meaning of rebellion. If necessary--but there is not the slightest
question. It is done."
"Then let me look up Ramon. He and I will approach the General
together." She gave him her neatly gloved hand. "Things are never so
bad as they seem."
"And I thank you for your promptness, which alone, perhaps, has saved
our hopes and our ambitions." He escorted his caller to her carriage,
then hurriedly returned to his office.
That afternoon Kirk received a formal communication from the banker
which filled him with dismay. It ran:
MY DEAR MR. ANTHONY,--To my extreme distress, I hear a rumor that
Gertrudis is to become your wife. I assure you that neither she nor I
blame you in the least for this unfortunate report; but since busy
tongues will wag upon the slightest excuse, we feel it best that no
further occasion for gossip should be given, I am sure you will
co-operate with us.
Sincerely and respectfully, your friend, ANDRES GARAVEL.
A sense of betrayal crept over him as he read. What the letter
signified, beyond the fact that Mr. Garavel had changed his mind, he
could not make out, and he resolved to go at once and demand an
explanation. But at the bank he was told that the proprietor had gone
home, and he drove to the house only to learn that Senor Garavel and
his daughter had left for Las Savannas not half an hour before. So,
back through the city he urged his driver, across the bridge, and out
along the country road.
Darkness had settled when he returned, raging at the trickery that had
been practised upon him. If they thought to gain their point by sending
him on wildgoose chases like this, they were greatly mistaken. He
proposed to have Chiquita now, if he had to burst his way to her
through barred doors. Never in all his easy, careless life had anything
of moment been denied him, never had he felt such bitterness of
thwarted longing. Reared in a way to foster a disregard of all
restraint and a contempt for other people's rights, he was in a fitting
mood for any reckless project, and the mere thought that they should
undertake to coerce an Anthony filled him with grim amusement. He had
yielded to their left-handed customs out of courtesy; it was time now
to show his strength.
What folly he might have committed it is hard to tell, but he was
prevented from putting any extravagant plan into operation by a message
from the girl herself.
As he dismissed his coachman and turned toward his quarters, Stephanie
came to him out of the shadows.
"I have been waiting," she said.
"Where is Chiquita? Tell me quickly."
"She is at the house. She wants to see you."
"Of course she does. I knew this wasn't any of her doing. I've been
hunting everywhere for her."
"At nine o'clock she will be in the Plaza. You know the dark place
across from the church?"
"I'll be there."
"If we do not come, wait."
"Certainly. But, Stephanie, tell me what it is all about?"
The black woman shook her head. "She is sick," she said, in a harsh
voice, "that is all I know. I have never seen her act so." From her
expression Kirk fancied that she held him responsible for her
mistress's sufferings.
"Now, don't be angry with me," he made haste to say. "I'm sick, too,
and you're the only friend we have. You love her, don't you? Well, so
do I. and I'm going to make her happy in spite of her father and all
the rest. Run along now, I won't keep you waiting to-night."
Long before the appointed time he was at the place of meeting, but
scarcely had the city chimes rung out nine when he saw two women emerge
from the dark side-street next the Garavel mansion and come swiftly
toward him.
He refrained from rushing out to meet them, but when they were close to
his place of concealment he stepped forward, with Chiquita's name upon
his lips and his arms outstretched. She drew away.
"No, no, senor!" she cried. "I sent for you because there was no other
way--that is all. My father would not let you come to the house. You
will not think me bold?"
"Of course not."
"I could not let you go until you knew the truth. You do not--believe
it was my fault?"
"I don't know what to believe, because I don't know what has happened.
All I know is that I got a note from your father. But that won't make
me let you go."
She clung desperately to the Bajan woman as if afraid to trust herself
near him. "Wait--wait," she said, "until you have heard it all."
Never had she appeared so beautiful as now, with her face white, her
bosom heaving, as the half-light dimly revealed.
"No matter what it is, I'll never give you up," he declared, stubbornly.
"Ah! I feared you would say those very words; but you must do it, just
the same. It will be hard for us both, I know--but--" She choked and
shook her head as the words refused to come.
Stephanie laid a great copper hand soothingly upon her shoulder, and
growled at Kirk in a hoarse, accusing voice:
"You see?"
"Tell me first why I must give you up?"
"Because, in spite of all, I am to marry Ramon," Gertrudis said,
wretchedly.
"Who said so?"
"My father. He has forbidden me to think of you, and ordered that I
marry Ramon. Sick or well, living or dead, I must marry him."
"I'm hanged if you do!"
"It is those miserable politics again. If I do not obey, my father
cannot be President, do you see?" Pausing an instant to master her
agitation, she hurried on. "To be President means a great deal to him
and to our family; it is the greatest honor that has ever come to a
Garavel. Senor Alfarez is terribly angry that I refused to marry his
son, to whom since I was a little child I have been engaged. Ramon also
is furious; he threatened to kill himself. So, it comes to this then:
if I will not bind myself to the agreement, Senor Alfarez will contest
the election--I do not know how you say those things--but my father
will be defeated--perhaps he will be humbled. Many other terrible
things which I cannot understand will happen also. If I agree, then
there will be no opposition to his plans. He will be President, and I
will be a grand lady."
"I won't stand for it. They're making you a sacrifice, that's all. What
kind of a father is it who would sell his daughter--"
"No, no! You do not understand. He is proud, he cannot accept defeat,
he would rather give his life than be humiliated. Furthermore--he
wishes me to marry Ramon, and so that ends it." Her lips were trembling
as she peered up at him to see if he really understood.
"Let them rave, dear. What does it matter who is President? What does
anything matter to you and me?"
"He says I am too young to know my own mind, and--perhaps that is true,
Senor Antonio; perhaps I shall soon forget you and learn to love Ramon
as he loves me, I do not know--"
In spite of the pathetic quaver in her voice, Kirk cried with jealous
bitterness:
"You don't seem to object very strongly; you seem to care about as much
for Alfarez as you do for me. Is that it?"
"Yes, senor," she said, bravely.
"You are lying!" declared Stephanie, suddenly.