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The Dollar Library
PARLOUS TIMES
THE DOLLAR LIBRARY
OF AMERICAN FICTION
* * * * *
THE GIRL AT THE HALFWAY HOUSE.
By E. HOUGH.
PARLOUS TIMES.
By D. D. WELLS.
LORDS OF THE NORTH.
By A. C. LAUT.
THE CHRONIC LOAFER.
By NELSON LLOYD.
HER MOUNTAIN LOVER.
By HAMLIN GARLAND.
ETC. ETC. ETC.
* * * * *
LONDON: WM. HEINEMANN.
PARLOUS TIMES
* * * * *
A NOVEL OF MODERN DIPLOMACY
* * * * *
BY
DAVID DWIGHT WELLS
AUTHOR OF
"HER LADYSHIP'S ELEPHANT," "HIS LORDSHIP'S LEOPARD"
[Illustration]
* * * * *
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN. 1901
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Conspiracy 5
II. Wanted--a Chaperon 15
III. Parlous Times 29
IV. A Lady in Distress 41
V. A Gentleman in Distress 51
VI. Afternoon Tea 63
VII. An Irate Husband 75
VIII. Diplomatic Instructions 88
IX. A House-warming 95
X. Before Dinner 105
XI. After Dinner 117
XII. A Morning Call 129
XIII. The Serious Side of Miss Fitzgerald's Nature 141
XIV. The Serious Side of the Secretary's Nature 149
XV. The Secretary's Intentions 156
XVI. Man Proposes 169
XVII. Her Husband 179
XVIII. The Door with the Silver Nails 190
XIX. A Midnight Message 201
XX. The Wisdom of Age 209
XXI. The Resources of Diplomacy 219
XXII. A Little Commission 229
XXIII. Forty Thousand Pounds 240
XXIV. A Very Awkward Predicament 252
XXV. The Rustle of a Skirt 264
XXVI. Face to Face 274
XXVII. The Marriage Register 284
XXVIII. Two Questions 296
XXIX. In which Death is a Relief 309
XXX. Two Letters 322
XXXI. Miss Fitzgerald Burns her Boats 335
XXXII. The Top of the Tower 346
XXXIII. The Secret of the Door 356
XXXIV. Within the Tower 366
XXXV. The Short Way Out 374
XXXVI. The Day of Reckoning 384
XXXVII. The Price of Knowledge 397
XXXVIII. The Price of Love 406
XXXIX. The Price of Silence 422
XL. The Price of a Lie 433
CHAPTER I
THE CONSPIRACY
"Forty thousand pounds is a pretty sum of money."
"Bribery is not a pretty word."
"No--there should be a better name for private transactions when the
amount involved assumes proportions of such dignity." The speaker smiled
and glanced covertly at his companion.
"Darcy is our man without doubt. Can you land him? He may hold out for
the lion's share and then refuse on the ground of--honour."
"Darcy and honour! That is a far call."
"There is much unsuspected honesty going around."
"Perhaps--but not Darcy."
"But what if he refuse?"
"He cannot."
"Why not?"
"That's my secret. I force Darcy's hand for you, and in return I expect
fair recognition."
"You have our promise, but it must be to-night. There is no time to
lose. I'll go on to the house. Where will you see Darcy?"
"Leave that to me. Until morning--_adios_," and he vanished among the
deep shadows and dark shrubbery.
* * * * *
The sun had sunk red and fiery below the edge of the waving mesa, and a
full tropical moon shed its glory over the landscape, making dark and
mysterious the waving fields of cane, which surrounded the whitewashed
courts of the palatial hacienda. The building was brilliantly lighted
within, and from it came such sounds of discordant merriment as could be
produced only by a singularly inferior native orchestra. Through one of
the long French windows which gave on to the veranda of the house, there
stepped forth the figure of a man. He stood for a moment taking long
breaths of the heavy miasmatic air, as if it were grateful and
refreshing after the stifling atmosphere of the ballroom. Had he not
worn the uniform of a British officer he would still have been
unmistakably military in appearance, standing six feet or over, a fine
specimen of an animal, and handsome to look upon. But it was a weak face
for a soldier, in spite of its bronze and scars, a weakness which was
accentuated by the traces of a recent illness. To judge from his pallor
it had been severe. The man had a pair of shifty grey eyes, which never
by any chance looked you straight in the face, and now expressed
ill-concealed ennui and annoyance. Not the countenance of a joyful
bridegroom certainly, and yet, he had but that moment left the side of
his wife of a few hours, the most beautiful woman in that South American
State, and the only child and sole heiress of its most famous planter,
Senor De Costa.
Up to that day the progress of his suit and the many obstacles which
might intervene to prevent its successful consummation, had given a
certain zest to the game. Now that he had won, he was heartily sick and
tired of the whole affair. Seizing a moment when his wife was dancing
with one of her relations, he had stolen out on the broad veranda to be
alone, and to pull himself together in order that he might play out the
rest of what was, to him, a little comedy; and to the woman
within--well, time would show. The soft moonlight tempted him. His place
was in the ballroom, he knew, but he put one foot off the edge of the
piazza, and as it pressed the soft grass under his feet, he fell a
willing victim to the spell of the night, and strolled slowly off into
the darkness.
His meditations were not, however, destined to remain uninterrupted. He
had gone scarcely thirty yards when a lithe figure rose suddenly out of
a clump of bushes, and touching him softly on the arm, whispered in
perfect English, without the faintest touch of Spanish accent:--
"Hist, Senor Darcy. A word with you, and speak softly."
"Who the devil are you?" demanded Colonel Darcy, instinctively feeling
for his revolver, for in this remote and not over well-governed section,
a night encounter did not always have a pleasant termination.
"I mean you no harm," said the stranger, "only good."
"Then why couldn't you come to the house and see me there?" demanded the
officer brusquely.
"It was out of consideration for your Excellency," replied the stranger
quietly. "I had the honour to serve under your Excellency some years
ago, in England."
"Impossible!" said the Colonel. "You are Spanish, but----"
"Of Spanish parents, Senor, but English-born. I joined the regiment at
Blankhampton. My room-mate was Sergeant Tom Mannis."
Darcy drew in his breath sharply.
"Your Excellency may remember he died of fever."
"I never saw or heard of your friend!"
"Though he was your Excellency's body-servant," suggested the stranger.
Darcy bit his moustache.
"When he died," continued the speaker, "he bequeathed certain papers to
me, containing evidence of a ceremony performed over a certain officer
of his regiment, then stationed in Ireland, in the month of August three
years ago."
"Ah," said the Colonel, "I think I see the drift of your remarks, my
friend. You wish to have a little chat with me, eh?"
The man nodded.
"It is a pleasant night," continued Darcy, "suppose we stroll a trifle
farther from the house." He slipped his hand furtively behind him.
"With pleasure," acquiesced the other. "But," he added, as they took
their first step forward, "the Senor will find only blank cartridges in
his revolver. It is a matter that I attended to personally."
Darcy swore under his breath. Aloud he said, simply:--
"Say what you have to say, and be quick. I shall be missed from the
ballroom."
The man nodded again, and plunged abruptly into his narration.
"There is an island at the mouth of the X----River, off the coast of
this country, as you have probably heard. It contains large
manufactories for the sale of a staple article, which we produce. Owing
to an amiable arrangement between the heads of the firm in England and
our Government, a monopoly of this article is secured to them, in return
for which certain officials in this country receive thousands of pesetas
a year. As your Excellency may remember, a treaty is pending between
this country and Great Britain, looking to the secession of the island
to the latter. If the treaty succeeds, the monopoly, owing to your
accursed free-trade principles, will cease, and the island and its
products be thrown open to competition."
"It has been suggested by certain patriotically disposed personages,
with a desire for their country's good, that a prearranged disposition
of forty thousand pounds in gold among a majority of the members of the
Cabinet who are to pass upon the treaty some six months hence, might
result in its rejection."
"Well," said Darcy, shortly, "what of that?"
"The only difficulty that remains, is the transportation of the bullion
from England to our capital. Those interested in the matter have felt
that if an Englishman of undoubted integrity," there was just a
suspicion of sarcasm in the speaker's tones, "who is so highly connected
in this country that the usual customs formalities would be omitted on
his re-entry, I say, if this Englishman could see his way to bringing
over the gold, things might be satisfactorily arranged."
"A very interesting little plot," said the officer. "And what would the
philanthropic Englishman receive for his services?"
"He would receive at the hands of the president of the company a packet
of papers, formally the property of Sergeant Tom Mannis, of her
Britannic Majesty's --th Fusiliers, lately deceased."
"And what would prevent the philanthropic but muscular Englishman from
wringing the neck of the low-down sneak who has proposed this plan to
him, and taking the papers out of his inside pocket?"
"Because, Excellency, they are now in the safe of the manufacturing
company."
"And the president of that company?"
"Is a guest at your Excellency's wedding."
Darcy clenched his hands nervously. He was battling silently, skilfully,
not to betray the dread which was unnerving him. The music floated out
from the house--fitful and discordant.
"An Englishman," he said slowly, "never gives way to a threat, but of
course, if he could be brought to see the purely philanthropic side of
the argument, and receive--well, say, five per cent. of the bullion
carried, for his travelling expenses, he might see his way to sacrifice
his personal interests for the good of his adopted country."
"Good," said the stranger. "The president will meet you the day after
to-morrow, at three o'clock in the afternoon, at the capital in the San
Carlos Club."
"Very well," said Darcy. "Go. Someone's coming!"
The figure of the stranger faded into the darkness, and a moment later
the soft footsteps of a woman approached.
"Ah, _mia carrissima_," he said, taking her in his arms. "You have
missed me."
"Yes," she said, with a little sigh of satisfied relief, as she felt his
strong embrace about her. "But why did you leave me? I do not
understand."
"The air of the room oppressed me. I came out to breathe."
"I did not know," she said. "I was frightened." And as she raised her
face to him, he saw that she had been crying.
She might well have commanded any man's attention. Tall and slight,
lissome in every movement of her exquisitely shaped figure, barely
thirty, and very fair withal. Even the tears which sparkled on her long
lashes could not obscure the superb black eyes full of a passion which
betrayed Castilian parentage as surely as did those finely-chiselled
features, and that silky crown of hair which, unbound, must have
descended to her feet. Half Spanish, half Greek, she was a woman to be
looked upon and loved.
"But, Inez, surely you trusted me?" came the suave tones of
expostulation from her husband.
"Trusted you, my knight? Have I not trusted you this day with my soul,
with my whole life? You have been so near to death's door, and I have
been so near to losing you, that I fear now, every moment you are out of
my sight."
"Oh, I don't think there is any danger," he said, laughing. "I am strong
enough now, though I daresay I should never have pulled through without
such a plucky nurse."
"Ah, yes," she said. "I can shut my eyes and see you now, how
frightfully ill and worn you were, when you came to my father's house
that night, three months ago, invalided home from India."
"Yes," he said. "It was the greatest stroke of luck in my life that I
should have lost my way and have been obliged to beg your hospitality
for the night."
"And then the fever. The next morning you were delirious. For days you
knew nothing, understood nothing, yet you talked, talked, always."
Colonel Darcy shifted uneasily.
"One generally does that," he said. "The raving of delirium."
"You said things that meant nothing usually. But one name you were
always repeating, a strange English name of a woman."
"And it was?" he murmured, stroking her hair.
"Belle. La Belle, I think you meant. And the other name, I do not
remember. It sounded harsh, and I did not like it."
He laughed nervously.
"There is nothing for you to be jealous about, _cara mia_," he said. "It
was the name of a playmate of my childhood. I had not heard or thought
of it for years. But that is the way in fever. The forgotten things, the
things of no importance come uppermost in the mind."
"And then," she went on, "came that happy day when you knew us, and then
you grew stronger and better, and I realised that you would be going
away from us for ever."
"Did you think?" he asked softly, "that I could ever have forgotten my
nurse?"
"I had been unhappy and very lonely. I feared to hope for joy again,
till the day that you told me you loved me." And she hid her face on his
shoulder to hide her blushes.
"Come," he said. "We must think of the present. I have a little surprise
for you. I have been going over my affairs, and I do not think it will
be necessary to take you away from home for so long a time as I had
first thought. I hope that in six months we may be able to return."
"Oh!" she cried. "That is indeed good news! I dread your England. It is
so far away, and so strange."
"I shall try to teach you to love it. But we must be returning to the
house. Our guests will miss us."
"Oh, yes," she replied. "I meant to have told you. The president of some
great manufacturing company has arrived to pay his respects, and is
anxious to speak with you."