bestow any favors larger than a _peso_ upon my servants? They are
really very well paid, and do not expect it. Ten dollar
gold-pieces for any slight service are disorganizing and increase
the tension. I beg to be considered,
In a really mellowing friendship,
CELESTINO REY.
TWENTY-SEVENTH CHAPTER
THE ART OF MISS MALLORY
Bedient was not a student of disease. Perhaps he would have granted
that destructive principles are pregnant with human interest in the
abstract, but his intelligence certainly was not challenged by these
dark systems of activity. He saw that even if his mind were not held in
anguish, he lacked the equipment to cope with _Pleiad_ affairs. As it
was, his attention positively would not concentrate upon the rapid
undercurrents, where the real energy of the habitues seemed to operate.
It was all like a game of evil children, or rather of queer unfinished
beings, a whirring everywhere of the topsy-turvy and the perverse--sick
and insane to his weary brain.
It was clear that the Chinese had not carried the message to Framtree,
but had consulted the Spaniard instead. Had Bedient told Rey that he
had come to _The Pleiad_ to find Jenkins, or Jones, or Judd, he would
doubtless have been permitted to see Framtree at once.
None of the matters made the impression upon his mind as that one
glimpse of Jim Framtree at the far-end of the hall. It was not that he
was in the building, though this was of course important; but the
magnificent figure of the man in evening wear was the formidable
impression _The Pleiad_ furnished. This concerned his real life; the
rest was without vitality.
By this time, however, Bedient was willing to grant that _The Pleiad_,
and even Coral City, formed a nervous system of which Celestino Rey was
the brain.... He had given up hope of writing a note to Jim Framtree,
realizing it would have no more chance of getting past the Spaniard
than a clicking infernal-box.
Framtree was nowhere abroad when Bedient went below. The former moved
apparently in a forbidden penetralia of this house of mystery. But
surely he could not continue miraculously to disappear.... Bedient
strolled down into the city. He sadly faced the fact that the
_hacienda_ had no call for him; little more than _The Pleiad._ He
turned in _Calle Real_ to look back at the great dome of the Spaniard's
establishment. It was a gorgeous attraction of morning light.... A
Chinese slipped into a fruit-shop--one of the house-servants. Bedient
made his way to the water-front. The _Hatteras_ was out there in the
harbor, surrounded by lighters, preparing for the return voyage to New
York. This was the lure. It came with a pang that disordered all other
mental matters for a space.
Presently he found himself wandering along the water-front. With an
exoteric eye (for the deeps of the man were in communion) he regarded
the faces of all nations. Coral City held as complete a record of
crime, cruelty, and debauchery as one could find in the human indices
of any port. Many were closing their annals of error in decrepitude and
beggary; others were well-knit studies of evil, with health still
hanging on, more or less, and much deviltry to do. A blue blouse, or a
bit of khaki; British puttees and a flare of crimson; Russian boots and
a glimpse of sodden gray; or an American campaign-hat crowning a motley
of many services,--explained that the soldiers of the world found
Equatoria desirable in not a few cases for finishing enlistments. It
was quite as evident, too, that the criminal riff-raff of this world
and hour found lodging in the lower city, as did its aristocracy in
_The Pleiad_.
"A couple of hundred such as these," Bedient reflected, "led by some
cool devil of a humorist, could loot the Antilles and get away before
the intervention of the States. What an army of incorrigibles--an
industrious adventurer could recruit here!"
Then the truth came to his mind. These belonged to Señor Rey's army.
Only the Spaniard could command this part of the city to desperate
endeavor. His _pesos_ and influence, like alcohol, penetrated and
dominated the mass.... Signs vehemently proclaimed that American beer
was important among the imports of Equatoria; and in a certain street
he encountered pitiful smiles and furtive gestures from the upper
balconies.
"Strange," he thought, "wherever lawless men gather, their mates fly
after them from court and slum. It is not men alone who love to
venture--and venture to love!"
Bedient was ascending _Calle Real_ once more, when his cheek was
flicked by a tiny wad of paper which fell at his feet. A _carometa_ was
toiling up the slope from the water-front. He observed Miss Mallory's
profile in the seat. She had not deigned to look, but with the
dexterity of a school-boy the pellet had been snapped from her
direction. He pocketed the message and laughed at her innocent and
unconcerned expression. A little later he managed to read at a glance:
Meet the old military man you saw me with last evening. Perhaps
he'll introduce us.
How quick she had been to sense the profundities of the Spaniard's
establishment! Bedient was glad that she held nothing against him, and
a bit surprised again that he had forgotten all about her reversal of
form at his approach the night before.... He had little difficulty in
making the acquaintance of Colonel Rizzio during the day, and was
formally presented to Miss Mallory at dinner that evening.
"I have heard it's quite the mode here to have names as well as
costumes for the climate," she said. "My wardrobe is limited, and I am
Miss Mallory--as in New York."
It was an hour before they were alone together.
"My friend," she said, "you are looking ill--more than ever ill....
Isn't there anything I can do? Isn't there something you might tell
_me_?"
Bedient felt her real kindness. "You are good," he answered. "I'm all
right, hardly know what it means not to be fit.... And now tell me how
you find things."
They stood in the centre of the coffee-room, so no one could listen
without being observed. Yet their voices were inaudible five feet away.
"It was clear to me at once," she said, "that I had better not meet you
as a friend. They probably knew we both came down on the _Hatteras_,
but that's no reason for our being acquainted."
"And now we must be casual acquaintances--if your work would prosper,"
Bedient said.
"I suppose so."
"The more I think of it, the plainer it becomes that I've sort of
disorganized Rey and his intimates. It really is odd for me to be
here----"
Miss Mallory searched his face in her keen, swift way.
"When I came to understand at all," she said, "I didn't expect to see
you here.... It isn't about the war, is it?"
"No," he replied. Then it occurred to him that she might meet the man
he wished to see, and he added: "I have a message for a man named
Framtree. Señor Rey apparently thinks this man would not be safe in my
hands. At least, I'm not allowed to see him alone----"
"And he's here?"
"Yes, I'm sure of that."
"I haven't met anyone of that name."
"You couldn't mistake. In my opinion, Miss Mallory, he's easily the
best-looking man on the Island."
"I'm sure I haven't met him."... She hesitated, smiling-queerly. "But
if I should, is there any way I can help you?"
"Not by speaking to him about me. That would yoke you with my
fortunes."
"How, then?"
Her eagerness appealed to him. "If you could tell me at any time just
where I might find this Framtree--yes, that would help," he said, with
a laugh.
"I'd be proud to help you in any way.... It's the most fascinating
place I've ever been in," she added with an effort. "I haven't heard a
thing about war, but the whole establishment is buzzing with
conspiracies and mystery. There isn't any rest. Everyone is afraid of
his neighbor; no one trusts himself to fall asleep in peace, for fear
someone will pry his secret away--a terrible atmosphere--but what an
adventure if it breaks into war before my eyes.... And I've met the
Glow-worm----"
Her whole manner changed for an instant. Miss Mallory was now an
emancipated creature, living to the very rim of her being. She belonged
to the tropics, and was playing a game all spiced with enchantments....
Bedient remembered what Captain Carreras had said about the Glow-worm,
on the day of his first coming to Equatoria. The story attached was
that Celestino Rey had found this woman among the red lights of Buenos
Aires, and had forced her to come with him. Bedient was not
particularly interested, but Miss Mallory's study of the hidden-flamed
creature, Señora Rey, and what she told him, adjusted easily to what he
had already heard of the woman from South America.
"She's pure mother-earth and nothing besides," Miss Mallory went on.
"Olive skin, yellow eyes with languid lids, lazy gestures, and a regal
head of yellow hair. Something about her suggests that she might turn
into an explosive at certain contacts, but she's horribly afraid. It
really gives one a thrill to hear her speak of South America. She
fondles the syllables and points strangely over her shoulder, at every
mention of her land. She's dying the slow terrible death of
nostalgia----"
"But of what is she 'horribly afraid'?" Bedient asked.
"Of the Spaniard--her husband. Somehow he has managed to madden her
with fear. She trembles at his name or approach like a horse that has
been cruelly beaten."
Only for a moment had Miss Mallory revealed the depth of her interest
in the affairs of _The Pleiad_. An observer would have taken the pair
for the merest acquaintances. The coffee-room murmured with many
undertones. They arranged to meet at luncheon the following day and
quickly separated. Miss Mallory was now aware that her avenues of
action would be closed, if it were noted that she had more than a
casual interest in Andrew Bedient.
The latter saw nothing further of Señor Rey for two days, and did not
catch even a second glimpse of Jim Framtree. His hours of darkness and
daylight were given over to the old destructive monotony--the dark
drifting of his mind, all the constellations of love and labor and life
shut off by the black mass of nimbus. His identity became lost to all
order; the forces of his being seemed in some process of fermentation.
His hours alone were animate with psychic experiences, but he attached
no significance to them, because he believed them the direct result of
physical weakness. Again and again he turned upon himself fiercely,
discovering that an hour had passed, while he had been tranced in
strange attention for the recurrence of some voice in his brain.
Angrily, he would brush the whole phantasmagoria away, force himself
back into the world of Equatoria, stride out of his rooms, if it were
day, and down into the city; but the pressure of the deeper activities
of his mind would steal back and command him. His physical nature was
sunk into a great ennui, and the other forces were the mightier.
Bedient comprehended this descent; even wondered how far down a man
could go--and live. It was the first thing that ever mastered him. The
temptation to leave Framtree and to take even a flying trip to
India--since New York was not for him--this was tangible, and he
whipped it, though the conflict used up all his power. He had nothing
left to combat the vague psychic thrall that appeared to be destroying
his life. An understanding friend, as David Cairns had come to be,
would have perceived startling changes in Andrew Bedient, and forthwith
would have contended with the enemy for every inch of advance. Bedient
was a bit awed by his great weakness. His physical deterioration did
not trouble him, but his anchorage in the great work of his time had
given way. He had to stop and think hard, to recall the least and
simplest of his conceptions of service. His sense of shame was
consuming in that all the good within him was gone, because he was
destined to be denied a human mate.
As to his exterior fortunes, there was substance in the matters
pertaining to the Glow-worm, which Miss Mallory brought, but they
hardly held him past the moments of their telling. They had met for
luncheon. She was unable to speak for a moment. Bedient wondered if he
looked so badly as that. The woman summoned all her powers to compel
his mind with what was so absorbing to her. He was not a little
impressed by her exceeding kindness. They were seated opposite at a
small table in the very centre of the luncheon-room.
"It's all right," she said lightly. "Señor Rey knows I am to have
luncheon with you. We had a long talk this morning, and I think I left
him in excellent spirits.... Oh, yes, he's an artist with the probe. I
didn't give him a chance to talk about you, because I asked the first
questions."
Her resourcefulness was delightful. "A friend's fortunes are truly safe
in your hands," he said. "And now please tell me all about it."
TWENTY-EIGHTH CHAPTER
A FURTHER NOTE FROM REY
"I had a long mental work-out this morning in the room before
breakfast," she began. "I even thought about what brings you here, and
about my long talk with the Glow-worm last night, which I'll get to--if
you are a very interested listener. After breakfast, I walked for an
hour in the grounds. Have you been over to the Inlet, where Señor Rey's
beautiful sailing-yacht lies--the _Savonarola_?"
"I've seen it from the road," Bedient answered.
"A stairway goes down from the bluff under the road, a hundred steps or
more to the water of the cove. In fact, the tall spars of the
_Savonarola_ aren't nearly so high as the level of the bluff. I love a
sailing-ship, and on the way back I met Señor Rey in his wheel-chair,
and told him how the wonderful little harbor and his thorough-bred,
lying there, had appealed to me. He inclined his head benignly. His
yacht, I said, had the effective lines of her namesake's profile--and
that pleased him. Followed, a technical discussion of different
sailing-ships that once swept the waters of the world, I furnishing
enthusiasm and a text-book inquiry now and then. This brought not only
an invitation to sail within a few days, but also an invitation to a
private dinner this evening in the Flamingo Room, 'with Señora Rey and
a few most cherished guests.' And--I must not forget--the Señor
informed me that his wife was very fond of me....
"I observed that the 'Flamingo Room' had a most enticing sound. He
hoped I would find it so; said the idea was his own, and that, to him,
the tint of a flamingo feather was the fairest of all tints--save one,
to be found in the cheeks of an American girl. I answered that it was
very clear to me now whose sense of beauty had made _The Pleiad_ and
its gardens the rarest delight of my travels."
Miss Mallory regarded Bedient's amusement appreciatively for a moment,
and went on swiftly:
"Then I walked beside his wheel-chair through the shadowy, scented
paths, and presently I mentioned you and Colonel Rizzio among the
interesting people I had met. He declared you were a true
gentleman--spoke feelingly--a stranger at _The Pleiad_, though not to
the Island. I explained how you had kept aloof on the ship coming down,
how you seemed to be the prey of some devouring grief.... All that I
said, he regarded with that terribly bright attention of his. It made
me think of a pack of hounds tossing and tearing at a morsel, the way
his faculties caught my sentences, hounds playing a hare at the end of
a run. Oh, devious and winding are the ways of the Spaniard--and past
finding out! But I frankly confessed my interest in you, and that you
were absolutely self-contained; indeed, it was because of that I
appealed to him. I am sure he found that my sayings balanced in the
most sensitive scales of his mind; and decided I was too young to be
artistic with the fine tools of untruth.
"Finally, I asked about war, told him the New York papers predicted
another war in Equatoria, and that I had never seen one. The Señor
declared he was very sorry if my trip to Equatoria proved a
disappointment in any way, but he didn't see what there was to fight
about; that no one deplored so much as he the recent attempt upon the
life of Dictator Jaffier; and as for himself, he was identified with
all the interests of Equatoria, which were moving forward exceedingly
well.... Altogether it was an absorbing half-hour."
* * * * *
"And now I must tell you about Señora Key," Miss Mallory continued
hurriedly, since they could not be seen talking together long.... "She
asked me to come to her rooms, and I followed a servant. I couldn't
find the place now alone. A small room in orange lamplight! The
Glow-worm was lying upon a tiger-rug; very tall and silken she looked,
and her great yellow eyes settled upon me. It seemed to me that her
emotions had no outlet, but turned back to rend and devour each other.
I couldn't help thinking that first moment, that some one must pay a
big price for making her suffer. Queer, wasn't it? And pitiful--how she
seemed to need me. It is true, she trusted me from the beginning,
seemed dying to leap into some one's heart. And she told me her story
in whispered fragments--heart-hunger, hatred, and mystery--these
fragments. I've really been challenged to build a character out of her,
and since I thought about her half the night, I ought to be able to
make you see and feel her story. I wonder if I can? It came to me
something like this:
"There had been a night--ah, long ago--in which Señor Rey summoned her
from her companions. It was in a house in Buenos Aires. The Señor had
come to that house before. The Señor was always feared. He was always
obeyed. She, nor any of her companions, could _taste_ the wine he
bought for them. It did not make them laugh like other wine. Oh, yes,
they drank it, but they could not taste the flavor--with him in the
room!... On this night the Señor had bade her come with him. She could
not answer, but obey only. She remembered how hushed her companions
became when she went away with the Señor; how strangely they had looked
at her--what helpless sorrow was in their eyes.... Even now she could
see the faces of her companions gathered about; the Señor smiling at
the door; his carriage with black, restless ponies and shining lights;
the driver upon his seat, like to whom she quickly became--never
answering the Señor, and always obeying!... Ah, yes, there had been a
hush in her house as she left it, laughter in all the other houses
about; and away they had driven, past the last of the lights----
"Such was the tale, whispered, overlapped with repetitions, a
succession of touches like that, done lightly but with a passion--oh,
you should have been there to understand! The meaning of a wild, sad
life was in them. And her big yellow eyes were hungry upon me. I seemed
to see the vast South American town, as old as Europe in sin and as new
as Wyoming in heart."
"You make me see it all," Bedient said.
"Can you understand that the Glow-worm is expiring to get back to that
old mad life?" Miss Mallory asked.
"Yes, from what you tell me of her."
"It is true, only it must be so _he_ cannot follow.... It must be as it
was before he came--when she could taste and feel and see--as it was
before the chill settled down upon her senses, before the shuddering
began. That's how she expresses it.... She overpowered me a little at
first. I was slow to realize how one's intents and sensations could be
absolutely physical. I could pity, but there was something actually
creepy about her. I was inane enough to ask if she could not return for
a visit. She sank back and shut her eyes and clenched her hands,
saying:
"'When he is dead or when he is tired of me, I shall go back--not for a
visit, but to _stay_! He would not let me go for a visit, and I could
not--oh, I wouldn't dare to run from him! Always I'd think him after
me. There would be no sleep for me. I'd think him after me--you know
how it is in a dream, when you are like a ghost--all limp in the limbs,
but trying to run! It would be like that, if I fled from him--always
expecting him to clutch me from behind!... My God, if he would only
make me mad! But he won't--he won't!'
"'What do you mean?' I asked.
"'I mean,' the Glow-worm whispered, drawing my head down to hers, 'I
mean I would kill him. Oh, he's all but dead! I could kill him with my
hands, if he would fill me with rage, so I could forget his eyes. He is
all alive in his eyes!... But it shall never be. He will say--do this
and come and go and rest and rise, and do that--and I shall obey like
the Chinese.... Oh, tell me what you would do, if the Señor said to
you, looking right into your skull, 'Come with me to-night!'"
"I told her I should laugh at the Señor, and suggest possibly that he
had drunk too much wine. She seemed unable to comprehend, and repeated,
'If he should look right into your skull, could you say that?' I
assured her I could, and she tried to believe, but she concluded that I
only _thought_ I could be that strong.
"Then she told me it had been months since she talked to anyone without
being afraid; that she felt at once it would be safe to talk with me;
that so much she wanted to tell had been shut up like a swelling in her
throat--'ah, God, so long!'... 'And then you would say with a laugh--as
you tell me,' the Señora went on, as if memorizing my method. Her lips
mumbled and trailed the words, so deep was the effort of her mind. 'You
would say, "Señor Rey, you have drunk too much wine!" and he would
answer with a laugh, too, "It is true, no doubt, as you say. I am an
old and a very foolish man, my dear Señorita Mallory!" and you would
smile and think of it no more.' The Glow-worm laughed in a lost,
mirthless way, and held me tightly as she finished, 'But that very
night, just the same, you would find yourself with him! And he would
laugh at you then and say, coming closer, "Forgive an old and foolish
man."'
"I was startled at the way she said it," Miss Mallory concluded. "'You
mean he would have me anyway?' I said.... 'Yes,' the Glow-worm replied
wearily. 'My lord gets what he desires--all but his youth--he cannot
get that--and his fear of hell--he cannot get rid of that! And he is
afraid to die!' She spoke the last triumphantly, as if it were the only
happy thing she could think of.... That was last night--and that is
all.... To-morrow evening join me in the lobby a little before
eight.... Here comes the servant and we must talk about orchids--until
I finish this sherbet----"
The following evening Bedient met Miss Mallory in the main hall, and
exceeding cleverness was required to impart her information, as they
moved together among the crowd.
"The handsome man is here. I saw him last night," she said, without the
faintest trace of excitement. "I am beginning to share some of the
Glow-worm's fear of Señor Rey. It's all tremendously thrilling. The
place is a mine of terrors--all the worse for this beautiful setting
and the gardens.... The Sorensons are the horrible Russian pair. I met
them at dinner in the Flamingo Room, and after listening to the Señora,
the courtesies of the Spaniard were like so many cold shuddery waves of
dread. Again last night, after the dinner, the Glow-worm drew me into
her boudoir and poured into my ears months of accumulated toxins of
hate and fear----"
"I'm sorry they have frightened you," Bedient said. "Your kindness to
me----"
"Oh, I'm not really afraid," she said hastily. "It's all very
wonderful. The Señora repays me with a most devoted attention--services
of her own hand, and not a little sweet and endearing in their way....
Presently she asked me if I had met the imposing Señor Framtree. Of
course I had not. She said he had been here for many weeks, but she had
only met him a few times--always with the Señor.... 'He is the sort of
man I am not allowed to meet alone,' she said languidly, her eyelids
drawn against the yellow light. 'But I have no choice--no choice here,'
she went on, 'though I feel sorry for him.'