THE FIRST SHOT
Mr. Cuddlehead did not go far afield during the day following his
glimpse of the officers' dinner-table. Instead, he kept to his room
until evening, or at most took a furtive turn or two on the cobbles
before the inn door. After his lonely and not very palatable dinner
was over, he set out cautiously for the President's villa. He wanted
to have a talk with Miss Tetson alone. She, no doubt, could explain
matters to him, so that he might be able to decide on a course of
action. He walked slowly, keeping always a vigilant look-out for the
trim, dauntless figure of Herbert Hemming. At the great gateway the
brown boy on sentry-go saluted, and let him pass without question.
In return he treated the fellow to his blandest smile and a _milreis_
note. He did not keep long to the drive, but turned off into a
narrow path as soon as he felt that the soldier had ceased watching
him. He took his time, traversing winding paths between low tropical
shrubs and yellow-stemmed bamboo, but always drawing nearer to the
quiet mansion. Presently his ear caught a welcome sound,--the soft,
frivolous strumming of a banjo. He was aware that Hemming was not
musical; in fact, he remembered that his rendering of "Father
O'Flynn" had once been mistaken for the national anthem.
Cuddlehead found Miss Tetson on a stone seat, near her favourite
fountain. At sight of him, she stopped her idle playing, and
answered his salutation with the coldest of bows. Her lover's kisses
still burned on her lips, and words of his impulsive wooing still
rang sweetly in her ears. Even the little brown crane, that stood
there watching the sparkling water with eyes like yellow jewels,
reminded her of a certain evening when she had been unkind to
Valentine Hicks. The hour was not for Cuddlehead.
Undisturbed by the coolness of his reception, Mr. Cuddlehead seated
himself at the far end of the bench, and began to talk. He described
his journey from Pernambuco to Pernamba, and with so fine a wit that
Marion smiled. He told little anecdotes of his past, very clever,
and very vague as to dates and scenes. The girl almost forgot the
sinister aspect of his face in the charm of his conversation, and
when he mentioned Hemming, in terms of warmest respect, she confided
to him something of his trouble with the army.
"Perhaps I can be of some use; one Englishman should be good for ten
of those niggers," he said. He lifted the banjo from the seat, and
made it dance and sing through the newest Southern melody. His touch
was both dainty and brilliant. He replaced the instrument on the
seat between them. He saw that the girl was more favourably
impressed with him than she had been. For a little while they kept
silence, and her thoughts returned to Valentine Hicks. Suddenly they
heard Hemming's voice, pitched low and sharp, in anger. He was
hidden from them by shrubs of tangled growth.
"I have given my orders," he said. "Do you understand?"
The thick voice of the colonel made reply in spluttering oaths.
"No more of that," said Hemming, fiercely.
Marion heard the crunch of his heels on the path as he wheeled.
Cuddlehead held his breath, the better to hear, and a quotation about
a house divided against itself came imperfectly to his mind.
The heavy footsteps of the native officer were heard retreating.
Presently Hemming rounded the hedge of roses, and stood by the
fountain. By the faint starlight the watchers saw that he was
smiling. He lit a cigarette with deliberate care, and dropped the
match into the shallow basin of the fountain. He lit another match
and looked at his watch. He had the air of one keeping a tryst.
Santosa came out of the shadows beyond, booted and spurred. The two
men shook hands, and whispered together. Their backs were turned
square upon the occupants of the bench. Then Hemming produced a long
packet of papers and gave them to Santosa.
"Mr. Tetson has signed them all," he said, "and the major will see to
the business part of it. Impress the importance of the matter upon
him, and then hurry back, for I'm afraid these idiots intend making
this unpleasant for us. And now, old man, good luck and God bless
you. It is a fine night for a ride."
"A beautiful night," replied Santosa, "and on such a night I must
either make love to my friends or trouble for my enemies."
He turned on his heel and clanked away.
All this time Marion had sat as one spellbound. Now she looked
toward the other end of the stone seat. Cuddlehead had gone. She
called to Hemming. He started at the sound of her voice. "You
here?" he said.
"Yes, and so was Mr. Cuddlehead a moment ago. But he sneaked off,
the little cad."
"Did he see the papers?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm sure he did," she replied.
"You had better run into the house," he said. "I'll look for the
spy."
Marion hastened indoors, and told Hicks all she knew about the
trouble. The young man looked deeply concerned.
"I wish Hemming had come to us a year ago," he exclaimed.
"Could he have helped it?" she asked.
"I believe he would have opened our eyes, dear, before things got
into such an awful mess," replied her lover.
"But surely we are not in any danger," she urged. "Surely Mr.
Hemming and father can quiet them."
"Our lives are safe enough, but the little fools may break some
windows. You see, dear, the President and I have not watched them as
we should. We have let them rob us right and left, and now, when
Hemming tries to spoil their game, and force them to divvy up, they
evidently want to bully us. It's in their blood, you know,--this
revolution business." Having thus unbosomed himself, Hicks leaned
weakly back in his chair.
"Dearest," he said, presently, "will you bring me my Winchester--it's
in the boot closet--and that bag of cartridges on my writing-table."
The girl brought them, and Hicks oiled the breech of the rifle.
A few minutes later the President and Mrs. Tetson entered the
secretary's sitting-room. They found that gentleman sorting out
heaps of cartridges, while their daughter sat near him busily
scrubbing sections of a Colt's revolver with a toothbrush. The
President's face displayed shame and consternation.
"God help us! we are ruined," he said, looking from one to another
with bloodshot eyes.
He produced a yellow cigar from a shabby case, and seated himself
close to the window. Suddenly he stood up and looked out.
"Who's that?" he asked.
"Hemming," came the faint reply.
A rifle cracked, and the bullet splintered the slats of the shutter.
The President retired into the room and turned off the lights.
"Hemming was right. They mean to force me," he exclaimed.
Hicks tottered to the window, rifle in hand. The sounds of a violent
scuffle arose from the flowerbeds. Hicks could just make out a
rolling, twisting mass below.
"Hold your fire," gasped a voice which he recognized as Hemming's.
Presently the mass ceased its uneasy movements, and divided itself
into two equal parts, one of which continued to lie among the crushed
flowers, while the other staggered along the wall of the house and
entered the dining-room by a window. The President, carrying a
revolver awkwardly, hurried down-stairs. Presently he returned, he
and Smith leading Hemming between them. Hemming was limp, and his
pale face was streaked with dust and sweat. Blood dripped from his
left sleeve. His monocle was gone.
"Mrs. Tetson, if you'll tie up my arm,--I'll show you how,--I'll be
fit as a fiddle," he said, and sank into a chair.
"Gun?" queried Hicks, who knelt by the window, with his rifle on the
sill.
"Knife," replied Hemming.
Marion cut away the sleeve of his jacket. "Surely Mr. Cuddlehead did
not carry a knife," she said.
"I don't think so; I jumped on the wrong man. Heard some one
crawling through the bushes, and thought I had him. One of my own
troopers--he stuck me in the muscles,--bleeds a bit, that's all," he
replied.
"There's not a sound in the garden now," said Hicks.
"Who fired the shot?" asked Tetson.
"A corporal," said Hemming. "He was behind me when you spoke. I
didn't know--any one--was near. He'll never--fire another--shot."
Then the commander-in-chief fainted on Valentine's bed, and Smith
brought him around with cold water and brandy. Then Smith stole away
from the villa toward the barracks. It was close upon dawn when he
returned.
"They think they'll kidnap the President and the ladies, and take
them away up-country and hold them for a ransom; it is the stranger's
idea," he informed them.
The President turned a shade paler, and glanced apprehensively at his
wife and daughter. Hicks swore. Hemming sat up and slid his feet to
the floor.
"They are fools,--and Cuddlehead must be mad," he exclaimed. Tetson
went over to his wife.
"Can you forgive me, dear?" he asked, huskily. For answer she kissed
him.
The villa was left undisturbed all the following day. Again darkness
came. The gardens were deserted. Smith had crawled around the house
four times without hearing a sound or attracting a shot. The
troopers were crowded together on and about the verandas of the
officers' quarters, listening to the heated discussions of their
superiors, Cuddlehead was with the officers, he and the colonel
pouring their whiskey from the same decanter. A dark and silent
procession moved from the President's villa down to the river, where
the little steamer lay with her boilers hot. Mr. Tetson carried a
small bag filled with sovereigns and a basket of food. Marion and
Mrs. Tetson and two maids followed with wraps, baskets, and firearms.
Smith scouted ahead. Hemming and Hicks walked feebly behind, armed
and alert. The things were passed smartly aboard. The mooring-line
was cleared. Hicks steadied himself by Marion's arm.
"We will soon follow you," he said. "Then you will think better of
me than if I went now."
They were very close together, and the others were all busy crawling
under the dirty awnings, or saying good-bye.
"I am poor as Job's turkey," he said.
"And my father is ruined," she replied.
"When will you marry me?" he asked.
"As soon as you come for me,--in Pernambuco, or New York,
or--anywhere," she answered. Then she kissed him, and at the touch
of her tear-wet face his heart leaped as if it would leave its place
in his side to follow her.
The little steamer swung into the current, and drifted awhile without
sound. Presently a red crown of sparks sprang from the stack, and
like a thing alive it darted away down the sullen stream. Hemming,
Hicks, and Smith turned silently and stole back to the deserted
house. During their short absence, all the native servants had run
away.
Smith, who seemed devoid of fear, buried the dead trooper in the
flower-bed upon which he had fallen. Doctor Scott joined the
garrison toward morning, and was both relieved and surprised to find
that the Tetsons had decamped safely.
"They are not dangerous now, except to property," he said. "They may
do a little accidental shooting, of course, for the colonel is very
drunk, and down on you, Hemming, for spoiling his profitable game.
That new chap seems to be quite off his head. Never heard such fool
talk in all my life as he is spouting."
"Did Santosa get away?" asked Hemming.
"Two men went after him, and only one came back, and he is in the
hospital," replied the doctor.
"Who looked after him?" inquired Hemming.
"I stitched him up before I came away," replied Scott, casually.