RIDEAU'S BARGAIN
Some time after Dane's departure, a smartly uniformed hammock train
approached Dom Pedro's factory. That worthy ceased his leisurely pacing
up and down the veranda, and watched the bearers wind out from the
steamy shadow with ill-concealed anxiety, hoping that he might be
mistaken. Then as they came on at a steady trot with the poles of the
lurching hammock upon their woolly crowns, he stamped on the flooring;
and even a sleepy Krooboy started at his vivid maledictions. There was
no longer room for doubt that he was about to be honored by a visit from
his former partner, Monsieur Victor Rideau, and it was very evident that
Dom Pedro was not pleased to see him. His sister, a portly lady, of
doubtful age, sat in a shady corner of the veranda, but she passed much
of her time in Africa in peaceful slumber, and was now asleep as
usual--or appeared so.
"It is too hot for anger, father," a voice said; and Dom Pedro, turning,
saw his daughter leaning languidly over the balustrade. She, too, was
watching the hammock with a curious expression.
"There is good cause!" Dom Pedro answered, cutting short his flow of
expletives. "This Rideau comes another time to torment me. Why is it
that when so many honest men die up yonder this one should always come
back safely?"
"He will not always do so. Some day he, too, will be lost in the
forest," said Bonita quietly; and the man glanced at her with hope in
his eyes, for several of his daughter's predictions had curiously been
fulfilled. This may have been due to coincidence, or a shrewd
calculation of probabilities; but Dom Pedro, having lived long in a land
where occult influences are believed in, was not free from superstition.
"I would send half, or at least a third, of all I have, to the hospital
in Lisboa if that were so," he declared. "Nina, you speak as though you
knew."
Bonita laughed a little, though there was anxiety in her face.
"Padre, one might doubt the efficacy of such a bribe. Perhaps I do. It
is money he wants, as usual?"
"Yes." There was a certain hesitation in the man's answer which did not
escape his daughter. "It is, of course, the silver, and I have not much
to give him. You have no regard for this Rideau, nina?"
Bonita's face was a study. Anger, loathing, and the faintest trace of
fear were stamped upon it.
"Regard! I have only hatred for _el perro_!"
The emphasis on the last word was significant: while it means simply
dog, and is used on occasion to designate a person jestingly, the
Castilian can, by change of inflection, make it imply a rabid cur of the
lowest degree; and Bonita used the epithet in that manner.
Dom Pedro raised his shoulders, and drew in his breath. He was slightly
afraid of his daughter; but, unfortunately for them both, he was more
afraid of Rideau, and he did not look at her when he spoke again.
"It is strange the Senor Dane did not return for the book he left,
since it shows the path through the forests of Shaillu's country, and he
cannot find his way without it."
Bonita smiled upon him pityingly.
"You do not know those men as I do. They plan all from the beginning and
leave nothing to chance. The Senor Maxwell is a man of system, and he
will have safe in his memory all the book could tell him."
"They are a curious people," observed Dom Pedro dryly. "One of those
two, however, was surely a trifle blind."
A faint trace of color crept into Bonita's face.
"It is time for you to receive your guest," she said.
Dom Pedro did so with the utmost cordiality, his hat in his hand, and
the two men--one of whom despised the other, who feared and hated
him--expressed their mutual delight at the meeting with great
effusiveness. Bonita Castro watched them meanwhile from a green latticed
window, and shivered a little, though the day was as hot as it usually
is at that season in West Africa. She slipped her fingers under the
laces at her breast, and her face was not attractive when they touched a
little piece of wrought silver. It was not a mere adornment, for there
was a slender blade of steel attached to it. Again she said, with an
intensity of detestation: "_El perro!_"
Dom Pedro played chess and discoursed upon the shortcomings of their
rulers with his guest all afternoon, and the five o'clock _comida_ had
been eaten before either hinted that Rideau could have any possible
motive for his visit beyond the pleasure of seeing his former partner.
Time has no great value to men of Latin extraction in the tropics; and
it is possible that one of them found pleasure in prolonging the
other's anxiety. At last, when they sat out on the veranda, the visitor,
lighting a maize husk cigarette, thrust his wineglass away.
"It is always a gratification to see my old friend Dom Pedro, and I have
traveled a long way to give myself that pleasure," he observed; and his
host, knowing how much this was worth, braced himself to meet what
should follow. "Being here, there is, however, a little affair we can
discuss together. I have an opportunity for a small investment to lay
before you."
"I am honored, but trade is very bad, and silver scanty," Dom Pedro said
hastily. "I have received no profits yet on the last venture."
Rideau spread out his palms deprecatingly.
"They are very dishonest men up yonder in the bush, as you, my friend,
should know, and have robbed me shamefully; while it was but an hour
since I rejoiced at your prosperity. I saw the cloth and gin sheds
empty--and they were full not long ago."
Dom Pedro groaned inwardly, but attempted a show of resolution.
"I repeat that trade is bad. It is, I fear, impossible to oblige even
you."
Rideau laughed a little, but his merriment was akin to mockery.
"I can only hope you are mistaken, and this time there will be a profit.
There is also another affair I would discuss with you. I am a man with a
conscience, and something we are concerned in up in the bush country
troubles me. It is told me that these troublesome English make protest
with the Administration that when the Emir invaded their dominions his
men carried good rifles which could only have been obtained from this
colony. The Captain Oger stated publicly that it is a stain on the
national honor, and there will be strict inquiry. I am a good friend of
Dom Pedro, but first of all patriotic Frenchman, me."
There was no need to speak more plainly, because Dom Pedro understood
him thoroughly, and inquired forthwith the lowest sum that would set his
visitor's uneasy conscience at rest. Rideau promptly named it; and the
Portuguese, being desirous of gaining time, shook his head.
"It is impossible. I also have considered about those rifles often," he
said. "Now I think it would be better for me, being an innocent man, to
explain to the Administration how the Emir robbed me."
Rideau was not in the least deceived, for he smiled sardonically.
"Is it not a little late, my friend, and the Commandant is a most
suspicious man. It is possible he might not believe you, and it is not
permitted to arm even one's carriers for protection with rifles; while
there is in existence a scroll signed by the Emir and another which
shows a voluntary sale. But you say what I ask is impossible. Well, I'll
consider, and to-morrow may make a more feasible offer. The last time I
came you entertained the sick comrade of the Englishman Maxwell. He has
not given you any information about Niven's mine?"
"He did not," said Dom Pedro, with so much earnestness that Rideau did
not believe him, and dismissing the subject, airily proposed another
game of chess.
The next morning, Dom Pedro, being perhaps anxious to postpone the evil
moment, set out for a bush village where he stated he had business; and
his guest, feeling sure of his own position, was not wholly sorry to
see him go. It would allow him to enjoy Miss Castro's society
undisturbed, and also, if circumstances permitted, to glance through the
books in her father's office, which he had long desired to do, with a
view to discovering how far the man might be taxed. Dom Pedro was not a
good bookkeeper, it is true, but his late partner understood his system,
or rather the lack of it.
An opportunity did not present itself until all the occupants of the
factory had apparently retired, as usual, to sleep in the coolest place
they could find during the heat which follows noon. Rideau slipped into
the iron-roofed room where Dom Pedro kept his accounts. As it happened,
however, Bonita was rather more wide-awake than usual, and shortly
afterward she also entered the office, to find her guest glancing into a
big folio with evident interest. He was in no way disconcerted, and
smiled upon her affably.
"There was a difference in the weight of the last gums I sent down," he
explained. "I would find the entry before I speak to Dom Pedro."
Bonita Castro was quick of wit.
"Then, as I help my father with the accounts, you will give me the
details," she said.
Rideau's inventive genius was apparently unequal to the task, for he
bowed ceremoniously.
"It is impossible to consider any question of business in the brightness
of the senorita's presence."
Miss Castro laughed.
"You have my full permission. Now, as regards this gum?"
Rideau seated himself languidly.
"I am a man of affairs, but I have also sensibility, and shall I trouble
the senorita about a bag of gum? To touch those dusty books is a
desecration to her fingers."
"Still, it is of business I wish to talk to you, and you will give me
your attention, senor," said the girl. "You have the power to cause my
father some anxiety."
Rideau leaned forward a little in his chair.
"It is true, but I am too devoted a servant of the senorita's to wish to
do so. It is for her sake I have concealed an indiscretion of Dom
Pedro's which would excite the anger of the Administration. As I have
said, I would do very much to win the senorita's approval."
"But this is very little, and Dom Pedro pays you well," returned the
girl. "The Commandant, who is not a friend of yours, might not credit
your story if you told it to him."
Rideau smiled significantly.
"It is very little for me to do if it pleases the senorita; but it is
much for Dom Pedro. You will know there is provided confiscation and
banishment, and even a worse penalty, for selling the Indigene modern
rifles, and I have therefore carefully hidden the Emir's agreement and
safe conduct made in the Arabic when he is at war with this colony. It
is misfortune that Dom Pedro has written his name to it."
Bonita Castro felt a chill run through her, though her face was calm.
The man had shown his power plainly, but the desire in his eyes, as he
watched her, caused her greater uneasiness. She could, she fancied, see
the African nature beneath the indifferent veneer of civilization, and
she trembled, knowing that under sufficient pressure her father might
be capable of selling more than forbidden rifles. Therefore, even if she
had no other motive, it was of the first necessity to lessen that power.
"Such generosity should not go unrewarded," she said. "You have long
desired the gold you think the Englishman Niven found, but, unless I
help you, you will never discover it. Even the man with the cross on his
forehead does not know where the river lies. What would you give for a
map showing Niven's road through the Leopards' country? It is so plain
that a child could understand it."
Rideau's eyes glistened, but he was cautious.
"There is only one man who can have such a book; and I know he would
never part with it."
Bonita laughed.
"Yes--the Senor Maxwell. You know he would not part with it? Then you
have tried and failed to obtain it from him? The Senor Maxwell is a very
clever man. Nevertheless, I have the map. Would you recognize that it
was genuine if I showed it to you?"
Rideau rose carelessly, and strolled toward the window. There was nobody
on that side of the veranda--the compound lay empty under the pitiless
heat below, and a slumbrous silence pervaded the factory. There was a
change in him when he turned toward the girl, who held out an unfolded
paper so that he could see a portion of it. The man was usually cunning,
but it was not without results that he had inherited a strain of native
blood, and now the instincts of the savage rose uppermost. Brute passion
and unreasoning avarice were stamped on his face. He had hitherto made
his admiration for the girl very plain, and had accepted her rebuffs
with the serenity of one strong enough to wait. Now, however, his
companion conceived it possible that he intended to retain his hold upon
Dom Pedro and secure the map as well. It was her person he desired, and
whether her good will accompanied it or not was probably immaterial.
"The sun has dazzled my eyes, and you will give it to me for near
examination," he said, and his voice was husky. When she made a gesture
of negation, he halted close in front of her with the veins on his
forehead swollen, and one big, dusky hand partly raised.
Bonita Castro had not studied the native character profitlessly, and she
knew that very little was required to cause those fingers--and they were
the fingers of a negro--to fasten upon her shoulders, or even about her
throat; but she had arranged accordingly. She clapped her hands sharply,
and Rideau let his arm drop to his side when a patter of bare feet drew
nearer along the veranda. A huge muscular Krooman in white uniform stood
in the doorway, and the girl smiled a little.
"Call Andres, Pobrecito. Tell him to bring the wine and the last of the
steamer ice; but stay there on the veranda yourself. I may want you. It
is so hot that you will not refuse if I offer you refreshment, senor?"
she said.
Rideau's lips twitched a little, and his face was greasy, but the look
of the African had faded from it, and he might have passed for a native
of southern France when he bowed.
"Who could refuse anything offered by the senorita?"
The wine was brought, and the man, who a few moments earlier might have
posed for a study of avarice and passion debased to ferocity, smiled as
he compared his companion's eyes to the sparkling ocean when he raised
his glass. Then, while the big negro squatted just outside the doorway,
Miss Castro read extracts from the notes on the back of the map.
"This would be very valuable to a bold man," she said. "What would you
give for it? It is no use offering a small thing."
"I would give"--the man hesitated--"I would even give the agreement in
Arabic signed by Dom Pedro and the Emir!"
"Then it is yours," said Bonita Castro. "Now it is too hot for further
business, even the underweighed gum. You may sit there and tell me of
your adventures in the bush country."
Rideau had a large share of vanity, inherited from both parents, and he
was in no wise reluctant; if Miss Castro failed to believe all he told
her she did not say so. Indeed, she made the man feel that she accepted
him as a hero, and fooled him so tactfully that he was several times on
the brink of making confidences which might have jeopardized his plans.
Fortunately for himself, however, he reflected in time, and did not do
so. When at last he withdrew, Miss Castro walked somewhat limply to her
room, and sank down into a basket chair in the manner of one who has
undergone a heavy nervous strain. Her aunt found her there presently,
and placed a hand caressingly on her shoulder as she bent over her.
"This Rideau is a bad man. He has terrified you?" she said
compassionately.
"No." The girl's voice trembled, though she smiled. "No, I hardly feared
the cur. I have sent him to his own destruction. It is my own sin I
fear. I have betrayed the man who trusted me; but still I do not think
he will suffer from my treachery."
The elder lady shook off her somnolent expression, and nodded
sagaciously.
"The big Englishman who was sick?--I comprehend," she said. "I do not
ask questions; but take comfort if it was for your father, nina. Also,
that Englishman is not clever, but he is very stubborn and strong, and I
do not think it will be well for Rideau if he interferes with him."
When Miss Castro found Dom Pedro alone in his sweltering office that
night she said to him: "Here is a present, father. I have drawn the
dog's teeth."
Dom Pedro's eyes glistened as he clutched at the scroll handed him,
then, though he first burned it over the lamp, his forehead grew
furrowed, and his jaw fell.
"The cur may have other teeth left, and is of the blood of the African,"
he said. "Twice I repulsed him when he spoke of marriage. Little one,
you have not sold yourself for this?"
The man positively quivered with impatience, but the girl laughed.
"No. I have sold him the blind Englishman. Rideau has the map that
belonged to the Senor Maxwell."
"Thanks be to heaven!" Dom Pedro exclaimed piously; but his sallow face
grew grave again. "It is a great deliverance, but it is not well to make
one's profit from the blood of white men. This Rideau, who is very
cunning, will follow and bring disaster upon the Englishmen up yonder.
Already, I have suffered many things because of the black men the Emir
stole from me."
Bonita's eyes shone.
"You do not see clearly, father, or know the manner of those other men.
What is it to me if these strangers do not find the gold--but I would
not have them die. I have been in their country, and if the cur dog
follows, plotting treachery, as I think he will, the Senor Maxwell will
surely kill him."
"_Ojala!_ Heaven send it so," murmured Dom Pedro, and would have
embraced his daughter, but that, shrinking from him, she slipped out
into the moonlit veranda. The little olive-faced gentleman stood staring
at the papers before him, and hoping that it might come about as she had
predicted.