Strange to say, the populace of La Gloria did not appear to trouble
themselves very much, either one way or the other, concerning their
President's re-appearance. The officials, however, were, as behoved
them, considerably more demonstrative. They were well acquainted with
Fernandez' temper, and, like sagacious mortals, realized that it would
be wiser for them to allow him to suppose that, whatever their own
private opinions might be, they desired no better leader than himself.
With Hermanos, and his fellow-conspirators, he was not likely, as he
observed, to have very much trouble. They professed to have seen the
error of their ways, and were as enthusiastic in Fernandez' praise as
they had hitherto been in his detriment. As for my own part in this
singular business I allowed Fernandez to tell the story in his own
fashion. This he did, to such good purpose that in a very short time I
found myself the hero of La Gloria, an honour with which I could very
well have dispensed. Monsieur Maxime and his crew were most liberally
rewarded by the President, as were Matthews and his fellow-sailor.
They remained in Equinata for a short time, but what became of them
later I cannot say.
"My dear Trevelyan," said Fernandez to me one morning, "I really
intend that we should have a serious talk together. Now you know that
whenever I have broached the subject of a recompense to you for the
trouble you have taken, you have invariably put me off with some
excuse or another, but I will be denied no longer. Forgive me if I say
I am well acquainted with the state of your finances."
"It is not a fine prospect, is it?" I said, with a laugh.
"If you had stood by Silvestre and had left me to my fate, you would
have been a comparatively rich man. And even if you did turn the
tables upon Silvestre, why were you so quixotic as to hand him back
the money?"
"I think you can guess," I answered. "If you can't, I am afraid I must
leave you to work the problem out."
"And if you would not take _his_ money, why should you be equally
particular in my case? It is only fair that I should recompense you
for the inestimable service you have rendered me."
"I am afraid that it is impossible," I answered, for, as I have
already said, I had long since made up my mind upon this subject.
Fernandez endeavoured to press me, but I remained adamant. Nothing he
could do or say would induce me to change my mind. I knew that it was
only by adhering to my resolution that I could salve my conscience. I
had still sufficient money of my own left to pay for my passage to
England.
Important as the capital of Equinata may appear in the eyes of its
inhabitants, it is, nevertheless, scarcely so prominent in the
maritime world as certain other places I could mention on the South
American coast. It was true I could wait for the monthly mail-steamer
which would connect with a branch line at La Guayra, or I might take
one of the small trading-boats and proceed along the coast until I
could find a vessel bound for Europe. But having had sufficient of
trading schooners in _La Belle Josephine_ to last me a lifetime, I
eventually made up my mind to await the coming of the mail-boat,
which, if all went well, would put in an appearance in a fortnight's
time.
During that fortnight I was permitted a further opportunity of
studying the character of the Senorita under another aspect. Since her
return to La Gloria she seemed to have undergone a complete change.
Her temper was scarcely alike for two days at a time. She was
capricious, wilful, easily made angry; then she would veer round, and
be tender, repentant and so anxious to please, that it was impossible
to be vexed with her.
"The President will miss you very much when you leave us," she said to
me on the evening before my departure, as we stood together on the
marble terrace overlooking the palace gardens.
It was a lovely night, and the air was filled with the scent of the
orange blossom. I do not think my companion had ever looked more
beautiful than she did at that moment. Indeed her beauty seemed to me
to be almost unearthly.
"I fancy every one likes to feel that he or she will be missed," I
answered. "You may be sure I shall often think of Equinata. Perhaps
some day I may be able to return."
"Who knows where we shall be then?" she replied gloomily.
"What do you mean?" I asked in a tone of surprise. "You will, of
course, be here, leading the Social Life of Equinata as you do now!"
"I am afraid that even now you do not realize how quickly affairs
change in South America," she replied. "Some one else may manage to
catch the Public Fancy, there will be a Revolution and we shall go out
of power--perhaps to our graves!"
"I cannot believe that. In any case your uncle would take care your
safety is assured!"
She gave a little impatient tap with her foot upon the stones.
"Of course he would protect me if he could," she answered, "but he
might not be able to do anything. Had you not come to our rescue on
that island, what use would his protection have been to me? How do I
know that we may not be situated like that again? Oh, I am tired of
this life--tired--tired!"
Almost before I knew what had happened she was leaning on the
balustrading, sobbing as if her heart would break. I was so taken by
surprise, that for a moment I did not know what to say, or do, to
comfort her. Then I went forward and placed my hand gently upon her
shoulder.
"Senorita," I said, "is there anything I can do to help you?"
"No, no," she answered. "You can do nothing! Leave me to my misery.
Does it matter to you, or to any one, what becomes of me?"
"It must matter a good deal to your friends," I replied.
"Friends?" she cried, facing me once more and speaking with a scorn
impossible to describe. "I have no friends. The women hate and fear
me, the men cringe to me because of my influence with the President.
Even he may grow tired of me before long, and then----"
I allowed this speech to pass uncommented on. At the same time I
wished the President would make his appearance and put an end to what
was becoming a rather dangerous _tete-a-tete_. When she spoke again it
was in a fierce whisper.
"Do you remember that night when we stood together in the balcony of
the Opera House, and talked of ambition and of what a man might rise
to? Senor Trevelyan, I tell you this, if I loved a man I could help
him to rise to anything. Do you hear me? To anything!"
There was only one way to treat the matter, and before I answered her
I knew perfectly well what the result would be.
"Enviable man!" was all I said.
She drew herself up to her full height. Then, turning on her heel, she
made her way swiftly towards the house. My silly compliment had
succeeded where expostulation or reserve would have failed.
Next morning the mail-boat which was to carry me away from Equinata
made her appearance in the harbour. She was to sail at midday, and up
to eleven o'clock I had seen nothing of the Senorita. About ten
minutes before I left the palace, however, she made her appearance in
the President's study. Her face was somewhat paler than usual, and
though she endeavoured to lead me to suppose that she had forgotten
our conversation on the previous evening, I could see that the memory
of it still weighed heavily upon her. The President had declared his
intention of personally escorting me on board the steamer, and at the
last moment, not a little to my surprise, the Senorita decided to
accompany him. We accordingly set off, and in due course reached the
vessel, a miserable packet of some six hundred tons, whose captain, on
hearing of our arrival, hastened forward to receive his distinguished
guests. After he had paid his respects he offered to show the Senorita
the saloon, and thus gave me a few minutes alone with the President.
"It is needless for me to say how sorry I am that you are going," said
the latter. "I wish I could have persuaded you to stay with us. But I
suppose you know your own business best. Remember this, however!
Should you ever need a friend, there is one in La Gloria to whom you
can always turn!"
I thanked him and promised that I would not forget, and then the
Senorita rejoined us. We had only time to exchange a few words before
the whistle sounded for strangers to leave the ship.
"Good-bye," said the President, giving me his hand. "Think sometimes
of Equinata."
"You may be sure I shall do that," I answered, with a glance at the
white town ashore.
Then the Senorita in her turn held out her little hand. I took it, and
as I did so looked into her eyes.
"Good-bye," she said, and in a low voice added:--"May the Saints
protect you."
Then she followed the President to the gangway. A quarter of an hour
later we were steaming between the Heads, and in half-an-hour La
Gloria was out of sight.