As soon as I realized the identity of the man before me, you may be
sure I did my utmost to appear at my best to him. So much, I knew,
depended on his first impression.
"I am exceedingly pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Trevelyan,"
said the President, in a voice that struck me as being distinctly
pleasant. "I fancy I saw your yacht from a distance this afternoon.
She is a handsome craft, and, if I am not mistaken, was built on the
Clyde. Am I right in my conjecture?"
For a moment I felt inclined to ask myself how it was this man was
able to discriminate between a boat built on the Thames and another
built on the Clyde. I subdued the inclination, however, and fell back
upon my Trevelyan manner.
"Quite right," I answered. "She hails from the Clyde, and, like most
boats launched on that river, she is a credit to her builders. I don't
know that I have ever met with a better. I hope I may be able to
induce your Excellency to pay her a visit, in order that you may
inspect her for yourself."
"It will give me great pleasure to do so," he answered, and when he
had conversed with me for a few moments longer, he left me in order to
pay his respects to a lady at the further end of the room. I was not
sorry for this, as it gave me an opportunity of observing him a little
more closely. He was certainly a remarkable-looking man, and each time
I glanced at him the conclusion was more forcibly borne upon me that
he was one with whom it would be better to be on friendly terms than
anything else. Although there was an apparent kindliness in his
manner, one could not help feeling that it was only the velvet glove
masking the iron hand concealed below.
He remained in the room for upwards of half-an-hour and then took his
departure, not, however, until he had crossed to me once more and had
repeated his desire to visit the yacht, in order that he might inspect
her more closely.
"As I said just now, I shall be delighted to show her to you," I
hastened to reply, and thereupon suggested that he should breakfast
with me on board the next day, and that with his permission I would
include General Sagana and his family in the invitation.
"You are most hospitable, Senor Trevelyan," he answered, "and if you
will allow me I will also bring my niece, the Senorita Dolores de
Perera. I am sure she will be most pleased to make your acquaintance."
"I shall be more than honoured," I replied, in my best manner, feeling
that at last I was making real headway. "Would eleven o'clock suit
your Excellency's convenience?"
"Admirably," he returned. "Let us then say _au revoir_ until eleven
o'clock to-morrow."
I promised that a boat should meet them at the wharf, and then bowing
to the ladies, and accompanied by General Sagana, he left the room.
When the General returned he complimented me warmly upon the success I
had made with the President.
"A most remarkable man, Senor Travillion," he continued, twirling his
enormous moustaches, "the most remarkable man Equinata has yet
produced. His career has, indeed, been an extraordinary one in every
way."
"Indeed?" I answered, with an endeavour to conceal the interest I was
taking in what he said. "May I ask whom he succeeded?"
For a moment the situation possessed a flavour of embarrassment. I was
not aware that the General had been one of Silvestre's principal
adherents, and that it was only when he discovered the fact that
affairs were not as they should be with his master that he had
transferred his allegiance to the stronger party.
"His predecessor was a certain Don Guzman de Silvestre," the old
gentleman replied, but in a tone that suggested two things to me;
first, that he was not aware of my connection with the man in
question, and secondly, that the subject was a decidedly distasteful
one to him. Realizing this I did not attempt to pursue it further.
Having formally invited my hostess and host and their daughters to my
little _dejeuner_ on the following day, I bade them farewell and took
my departure. It was evident that my visit had been appreciated, and
that some importance was attached to it, for I found the General's
private carriage waiting outside to convey me back to the wharf. I was
careful to thank him for the courtesy he had extended to me, and then
drove off.
When I retired to rest that night, it was with the feeling that my day
had not been altogether wasted. Behind it, however, was a decided
impression that President Fernandez was by no means the sort of man to
be caught napping, and that, if I wished to trap him, it would be
necessary for me to have all my wits about me. Moreover, I fancied
that when I _did_ catch him, I should find him a somewhat difficult
captive to tame. As is very often the case in such matters, one
apparently inconsequent remark of his haunted me more than anything
else that had fallen from his lips. Why had he declared the yacht to
be a Clyde-built boat? Was it only a statement made haphazard, or had
he some previous knowledge of the craft in question? The mere thought
that he might know anything of her past made me anxious beyond
measure. The possibilities were that he did not, but the fact that he
might have an inkling of my intention was sufficient to prevent me
from sleeping and to cause me to tumble and toss in my bed, hour after
hour, endeavouring to find some satisfactory solution to the problem.
"I have seen what he can do to those who offend him," Hermanos had
said to me, "and I confess the picture did not please me." At the same
time I could not believe that it was possible that the President had
any idea of the real reason of my presence in Equinata. The secret had
been so jealously guarded that it could not have leaked out. These
thoughts, however, did not prevent me from looking forward with the
greatest possible interest to the festivity of the morrow. Immediately
on my arrival on board, I called Ferguson to a consultation. He
forthwith interviewed the chief cook, and the result was the
preparation of a repast that promised to equal anything ever seen in
Equinata before.
As you may suppose, the following morning was a busy one with us. The
arrangements were most elaborate. Flowers were procured from the
shore, and with them the saloons were decorated. A string band was
engaged to play on the bridge during the repast, and in the
President's honour the yacht was hung with bunting.
Half-an-hour before my guests were due to arrive, I descended to my
cabin and made my toilet. I had scarcely returned to the deck before I
was informed by the chief mate, who was on the look-out, that the
boats we expected were putting off from the shore. Ferguson stood
beside me and watched them come alongside. Out of compliment to the
President he had caused the flag of Equinata to be hoisted, and had
drawn up a Guard of Honour from the crew on either side of the
gangway. The first boat to come alongside contained the President, his
_aide-de-camp_, and a lady, whom I argued must be none other than his
niece, the Senorita Dolores de Perera. The President was the first to
set foot upon the deck, and, as he did so, the band struck up the
National Air of Equinata. His Excellency shook me warmly by the hand,
and then, turning to the lady who accompanied him, presented me to
her. I have met some very beautiful women in my time, but I am
doubtful whether I have ever seen one who could compare with the lady
I then had before me. She was slightly above the middle height, with
raven hair and dark flashing eyes, and carried herself with the grace
that is so characteristic of her nationality. Her manner towards me
was distinctly cordial, and under its influence I began to think that
our luncheon was not destined to be as dull an affair as I had feared
it might be. I escorted them to a cool spot under the awning, and then
prepared to receive my other guests. Upon their arrival, we proceeded
to the saloon for lunch. That the President was impressed, I could
plainly see. He paid me many compliments upon the beauty of the yacht,
and vowed that, when times improved in Equinata, he would have just
such another built for his own private use.
"How I envy you your lot, Senor Trevelyan!" remarked the Senorita
Dolores, when we had seated ourselves at the table, and as she said
it, she threw a beaming glance at me. "How beautiful it must be to
skim over the seas like a bird, to be always seeing new countries, and
receiving new impressions. Yours must be an ideal life, if ever there
were one."
"I fear you have omitted to take into your calculations the existence
of Custom House officials, the engagement of crews, and the fact that
a yacht, however beautiful, needs coaling, in order to be able to
properly perform her functions. There are also storms to mar one's
pleasure, Port Dues, Harbour Regulations, Quarantine, and a thousand
and one other little matters that, though not important in themselves,
are, nevertheless, sufficient to play the part of crumpled rose-leaves
in your bed of happiness."
"But in these seas you have all smooth sailing. You came here
from----?"
She asked the question so innocently that I felt sure it was without
any sinister intention.
"From Havana to Key West, and thence to Jamaica, Barbadoes, and so to
Equinata!"
"And your plans after leaving here?"
"I have scarcely formed any plans yet," I answered, and then I added
with a fair amount of truth, "You see, Senorita, it all depends upon
circumstances. I may go on to Rio, thence to Buenos Ayres, and perhaps
round the Horn to the Pacific Islands, or I may return to England at
once."
"While we remain on here leading our humdrum life," said the
President, toying with his champagne glass as he spoke, "and ending
the year almost as we began it, seeing few strangers and interested
only in our own little mediocre affairs."
"I fear your Excellency must speak ironically," I said. "What grander
or more interesting occupation can there be in the world, than the
work of building up a new country, a country which may ultimately take
its place among the greatest of the earth? While I am fluttering like
a butterfly from place to place, you are guiding, helping, and
benefiting your fellow-man, and through him the entire human race."
"You are an idealist, I perceive, Senor Trevelyan," the President
returned, with one of his peculiar smiles. "Unfortunately for your
theory, my fellow-man does not always wish to be benefited, as your
words would lead one to suppose. To my thinking he is very like that
noble animal, the horse, who, while being capable of great things,
must first learn the principles of subjection. What say you, General
Sagana?"
"I agree with your Excellency," replied the General with some little
embarrassment, though why he should have felt it I could not at the
time understand.
I turned to the Senorita Dolores.
"You are deeply interested in politics, of course, Senorita?" I said,
as innocently as I knew how.
"No, I do not mind admitting that I take no sort of interest in
politics," she answered. "I find it better for many reasons not to do
so. So long as I am not publicly insulted in the streets, and the mob
do not attempt to shoot my uncle, or to come to the palace and break
our windows, I am content to let whichever party pleases hold the
reins of power. But there, I feel sure, Senor Trevelyan, you did not
come to Equinata to talk politics. We must discover a way of amusing
you, and of making your time pass pleasantly while you are with us,
without that!"
As she said this, she glanced down the table at the two daughters of
General Sagana, who returned her smile with a look that said as
plainly as any words could speak, that if they were given the
opportunity, they would take care that my time was spent as pleasantly
as possible.
All things taken into consideration, my little _dejeuner_ was a
decided success, and the affability of the President, when the ladies
had withdrawn, helped to confirm me in this opinion. Nothing could
have exceeded his geniality. He narrated several amusing incidents
connected with his past life, and once even unbent so far as to
comment on a certain act connected with the reign of his predecessor.
"Silvestre was a clever man; a very clever man," he said; "but, as
events proved, entirely wanting in a proper appreciation of his
position. Had he used his opportunities as he might have done, he
would, in all probability, be occupying the position he held then and
which I hold to-day."
"And may I ask what has become of him?" I inquired, not without some
curiosity as to what his answer would be.
The President, however, shook his head.
"No one seems to have any idea where he is," he said. "After the last
crisis he disappeared from Equinata, but where he went I cannot tell
you. Very probably he is dead. Men of his calibre do not, as a rule,
make old bones."
His manner was so open, his speech so frank, that my suspicions that
he was aware of my errand in his capital were fast dying away.
Later on we left the saloon and joined the ladies on deck. A cool wind
was blowing, and it was very pleasant under the awnings. After
half-an-hour's conversation, followed by an inspection of the yacht,
the President declared his intention of returning to the shore. The
boats were accordingly ordered alongside, whereupon, having thanked me
for my hospitality, the President and the Senorita, attended by their
_aide-de-camp_, the latter a great lady-killer, took their departure.
General Sagana and his party followed suit a little later, and then I
was free to discuss the success of our entertainment with Ferguson.
"If all goes on as it is doing now," I said, lighting a fresh cigar,
and handing my case to him, "it should not prove a very difficult
matter to inveigle him on board to dinner some night, when we might
settle the affair once and for all."
"Unfortunately, the chances are a hundred to one that, if he came, he
would bring an _aide_ with him, as he did to-day. What should we do
then?"
"Take the _aide_ to the island with us," I replied promptly. "One more
prisoner would make little or no difference to Silvestre."
Next morning I was the recipient of an invitation from the President
to dine at the palace on the Thursday following. Needless to say, I
hastened to accept, and in due course presented myself at his
Excellency's magnificent abode. I was met in the hall by the
_aide-de-camp_ who had breakfasted with us on board the yacht, and by
him was conducted to the great drawing-room where the President and
his niece were receiving their guests. Some thirty or forty people
were present, among the number being General Sagana and Madame, and
their two fair daughters, who welcomed me like old friends. The
President took the General's wife in to dinner, while, for some reason
best known to them, I was permitted the honour of escorting the
Senorita.
"So you have not grown tired of Equinata yet, Senor Trevelyan?" said
my fair companion, as we made our way in our turn along the stately
hall in the direction of the dining-room.
"On the contrary, I grow more charmed with it every day," I replied.
"Who could help liking it, when its citizens are so hospitable to
strangers?"
"Before you praise us, remember that you set us a charming example,"
she continued. "It will be long before I forget the pleasant morning
we spent on board your yacht. I can assure you that my uncle also
looks back on it with the greatest pleasure."
"I trust it may not be the last time he will visit her," I answered,
with more truth than is usually attachable to an idle compliment.
The room in which we dined was a magnificent apartment, furnished with
a grandeur that gave it an almost regal dignity. The President's
_chef_ was evidently a treasure, for the dinner could scarcely have
been excelled. During its progress the President addressed himself on
several occasions to me, and invited me to accompany him on a visit to
some celebrated copper mines in the neighbourhood, also to a review of
the troops which was to take place in the Great Square in a week's
time. As may be supposed, I was quick to accept both invitations.
"And at the end of the week there is to be a grand ball at the Opera
House," the Senorita continued, when her uncle had finished speaking.
"It is in aid of the convent of the Little Sisters of the Poor, and is
one of our recognized gaieties of the year. I wonder if we shall be
able to persuade you to be present?"
"I shall be more than delighted," I replied. "That is, of course,
provided I am not compelled to leave Equinata in the meantime."
"You must not leave us too soon," she said, and then paused and
examined her plate attentively. I was about to answer her, when her
attention was attracted by her neighbour on her right, and I was
accordingly left to my own thoughts.
I looked down the long table, glittering with glass and plate, and as
I did so, I endeavoured to apprize the value of my extraordinary
position. Who at that board could have guessed the errand in Equinata
of the man whom, doubtless, so many of them envied for his wealth and
for his magnificent floating home? I could not help wondering what my
own feelings would have been had I known only three months or so
before, when I was standing watch as a mail-boat officer, that in a
few short weeks I should be the honoured guest of the President of the
Republic of Equinata, and the presumptive owner of a yacht valued at
upwards of a hundred thousand pounds.
I looked across the room and examined the pictures hanging upon the
walls. That exactly opposite me riveted my attention. I felt that I
could not be mistaken as to the likeness. It was the portrait of Don
Guzman de Silvestre, and the artist had managed to depict him to the
life. How it called me back to other days! As I looked at it, I seemed
to be sitting in the old inn garden at Falstead, listening to his
instructions for the campaign, and wondering how long Molly would be
at the choir practice.
"You have suddenly become very silent, Senor Trevelyan," said the
Senorita, rousing me from my reverie.
"I was thinking that I shall often look back with pleasure upon this
evening," I replied.
The look she gave me would probably have encouraged many men to embark
on a course of the maddest flirtation. I, however, was adamant.
"In reality," she said, "I suppose you are like all the other visitors
we have, and, as soon as you are away from Equinata, you will forget
us altogether."
"I assure you I shall never forget your beautiful city as long as I
live," I answered, and with more truth than she imagined.
She threw a quick glance at me and then, looking down the
dinner-table, gave the signal to the ladies to rise. I must confess
here that the Senorita interested me very strangely. At first I had
thought her merely a very beautiful woman, well fitted by nature to
perform the difficult task asked of her; it was not long, however,
before I came to have a somewhat better understanding of her real
abilities. In what light I regard her now, you will be able to realize
for yourself when you have read my story.
As had been arranged, three days after the dinner I have just
described, I accompanied the President and a considerable party to the
famous copper mines in the mountain range that began behind the city
and extended well-nigh to the further limit of the Republic. We were
only absent three days, yet in that short space of time I was
permitted an opportunity of studying the real character and
personality of Equinata's ruler more closely than I had yet done. At
first I must confess I had been prepared to dislike him, but little by
little, so gradually indeed that I scarcely noticed the change, I
found that he was managing to overcome my prejudices. Under the
influence of these new impressions I also began to see my own part of
the business in a new light. From what Silvestre had said to me, I had
up to that time regarded him as a traitor to his friends, and as a
tyrant and enemy to his country. I now discovered that he was neither
the one nor the other. He ruled according to his lights, and if he
held his people in an iron grip, it was for the good and sufficient
reason that he knew their character, and the sort of government they
required. My own position, when I came to overhaul it properly, I
discovered to be by no means edifying. I accepted his hospitality and
his kindnesses, yet I was only waiting my chance to prove myself a
traitor of the worst kind. I was posing as his friend, yet at the same
time was preparing to prove myself his worst enemy. Such thoughts as
these kept me company by day and night, and made me regard myself with
a contempt such as I had never dreamed of before. And yet I knew that,
at any hazard, I must go through with it. Had I not taken Silvestre's
money and pledged myself to serve him? Therefore I could not draw
back.
On our return to the city from the mountains, I was present at the
review of the troops in the Great Square, and witnessed the
redoubtable army of Equinata, headed by General Sagana, as you may
suppose in the fullest of full uniforms, march by and salute its
chief. That ceremony over, I returned to the yacht to while away the
hours as best I could until it should be time to dress for the great
ball that was to take place at the Opera House that evening.
Having rigged myself out for the occasion, I was rowed ashore, and, as
I had plenty of time to spare, I determined to walk to the Great
Square in preference to taking a cab. To do this it was necessary for
me to pass a certain fashionable _cafe_, whose little tables decorated
the broad pavement outside. At one of these tables two men were
seated, playing dominoes as they sipped their coffee. One of them
looked up at me as I passed. As my eyes fell on his face I gave a
start, for I recognized him instantly as a well-known Rio merchant,
who had made several voyages with me in the old _Pernambuco_, and with
whom I had been on the most friendly terms. He stared at me as if he
thought he ought to know my face, but, I suppose on account of the
absence of my moustache, could not quite remember where he had seen it
last.
I hurried on, with my heart in my mouth, as the saying has it, but I
had not gone very far ere I heard some one bustling after me. A few
seconds later a hand was laid upon my arm, and I turned to find the
individual I had seen seated at the table standing before me.
"Ten t'ousand pardons, senor," he began in English, "but am I mistaken
if I say your name is 'Elmsworth?"
I had to make up my mind.
"I'm afraid you're making some little mistake," I replied, and then
added what was worse than a lie, that is to say, a half-truth, "I know
no one of the name of 'Elmsworth."
"Den I must beg of you ten t'ousand more bardons," he continued. "I
t'ought you vas one of mine old vriends dot I vas at sea mit. Forgive
me dat I interrupt you in your valk."
I willingly forgave him and passed on.
The question that kept me company for the rest of the evening was--Had
my assurance satisfied him? If not, what would he be likely to do?