THE END OF THE WORLD
They stayed a week in Cairo, and at the end of that time the Countess de
Mattos had accepted an invitation to go yachting; not for a day, but for
a vague period of "dawdling," as Virginia evasively expressed it. The
beautiful Portuguese woman had hesitated at first, and confided to the
American girl that, on account of the delay in receiving an expected sum
of money, she did not quite see how she could get away in time. But
Virginia had begged the Countess not to let such a small difficulty
trouble her for a moment. She really must accept a loan to tide over the
little annoyance; it would indeed be too hard to lose the pleasure of her
companionship for the sake of a few paltry dollars, so that would be no
favour at all, or rather, the favour would be the other way round.
The "few paltry dollars" necessary turned out to be three thousand; but
if they had been three times three thousand Virginia would have lent them
just as cheerfully without the prospect of, or even wish for, their
return. With the money obtained from Virginia's practically unlimited
letter of credit in her pocket, and a hint delicately expressed that more
would be at her service whenever she wished, "as it was such a nuisance
having to keep in touch with one's bankers and people like that on a long
yachting trip when nothing was less settled than one's plans," the
Countess thought herself very well off.
"Are you in a hurry to be anywhere in particular during the next few
weeks?" asked the girl of her new friend. "No? How nice! Then let us
throw all the responsibility of planning things upon the men. What fun
never to know where we are going, but to be surprised always when we
arrive anywhere."
And the Countess de Mattos agreed. She would have agreed with almost
anything that Virginia said that day. If the American girl believed that
Providence had directed her to cross the path of this beautiful woman,
the beautiful woman was equally sure that the god of luck had put this
infatuated young heiress in her way.
Roger would hardly have consented to the carrying out of Virginia's plan,
which he called "kidnapping," had George Trent not joined his arguments
to his sister's.
"It does seem a mad idea," he admitted, "but if the woman isn't Liane
Devereux, no harm will be done, except that she'll be taken a longer
journey than she expects. If she is--ah! I know what you think, old chap,
without your lifting your eyebrows up to your hair; but, by Jove!
Virgie's got an instinct that's like the needle of a compass. When she
says 'north,' I'd bet my bottom dollar it _was_ north, that's all. If I
don't object to Virgie's associating with the Countess, you needn't--yet,
anyhow. She isn't the kind of girl to be hurt by that sort of thing, and,
besides, she'll have the dickens of a tantrum if we try to thwart her now
she's set her heart on this trick. She'd be equal to slipping anchor with
the Countess on board and leaving us in the lurch. Let's see the little
girl through on her own lines, and if the snap doesn't come off, she
can't blame _us_. Anyway, it's rougher on me than on you, for Virgie's
put me up to do the agreeable to the Countess and keep her from getting
restless before we attempt to spring our mine. A while ago I wouldn't
have asked anything better than flirting all day with such a woman, who
is as pretty and as fascinating as they're made, but I'm not in the mood
for it now, somehow. Still, we're playing for big stakes--you for yours,
Roger, I for mine."
This was the only reference he made to his interest in Madeleine
Dalahaide; but Roger guessed what was in his mind.
Lady Gardiner floundered deeper than ever into the quicksands of mystery
when she heard that the Countess de Mattos was to be one of the party for
the rest of the voyage--wherever it was to take them. What could be
Virginia's object in picking up this woman? Was it really true that she
had taken the violent and sudden fancy to her that she feigned to feel,
or did that pretense cloak a hidden motive? Kate had no clue, unless the
fact that Virginia had asked her never to mention Madeleine Dalahaide or
the Château de la Roche before the Countess could be called a motive. She
would have disobeyed Virginia, by way of a curiosity-satisfying
experiment, if she had not feared that the result might be disastrous and
that she would be found out.
At least she would in a gentle, tactful way have suggested objections to
the Countess de Mattos's presence on the yacht, had she not been certain
that Virginia would have frankly advised her to stay behind if she did
not like the arrangements for the rest of the trip. Much as she loved
Cairo in the height of its gay season, much as she hated the sea at all
seasons, nevertheless she was doggedly determined to see this adventure
to the end (bitter though it might be), not only to earn her thousand
pounds, but to know the secret which actually kept her waking and
wondering at night.
It really was the strangest thing that Virginia should want this
adventuress on the yacht, Kate indignantly remarked to Mrs.
Maitland-Fox. The girl had refused to take a maid because there would
not be room, yet now she dragged this creature on board to flirt with
George Trent and perhaps inveigle him into a marriage under the
impression that he was as rich as he was handsome.
But with Virginia herself, after the first few moments of surprise, Lady
Gardiner had been circumspect. She had not even dared to ask the question
burning on her lips--whether the Countess would have the locked
stateroom, or what arrangement would be made for her accommodation?
Obliged to wait for this information until the hour of going on board
again, once the Countess de Mattos's presence was to be expected without
hope of change, Kate began to be impatient to start.
The party, counting quiet, keen-eyed little Dr. Grayle, was now increased
to six, an equal number of men and women, for the Countess had readily
given up her maid. They all travelled to Alexandria together one morning,
and, boarding the yacht, Kate eagerly watched for the new guest to be
taken to her stateroom. Would the locked door be opened? No; Virginia
led her past that mysterious, closed door, to the cabin formerly occupied
by George Trent, and Kate saw that the young man's belongings, just
brought back from Cairo, had been set down inside the stateroom once
sacred to the doctor alone. In this there were two berths, and evidently
George and the medical man would "chum" together for the rest of the
voyage. The discovery did not add to Lady Gardiner's love for the
Portuguese woman, for, half forgetting her uneasiness concerning
Madeleine Dalahaide, she was now jealous of the new beauty, and it was
gall and wormwood to Kate that George Trent, lost to her, should be
making gallant sacrifices of his personal comfort for another woman.
She had written to the Marchese Loria on the first night of their arrival
in Cairo, before the acquaintance with the Countess had begun, and, as
she could learn nothing of the future programme for the voyage, it had
not seemed worth while to write again. As for the invitation to the
Portuguese woman, Kate did not see that it could be of personal interest
to Loria, and she never wrote unless she had something to say which was
of importance to him; therefore the Italian remained in ignorance that
the Countess de Mattos was a member of the little party on the _Bella
Cuba_.
So far as the trip had gone, there was nothing to excite his anxiety save
that the girl he coveted for her beauty and her money was going farther
and farther from him. But one day a telegram came for him to the Cap
Martin Hotel, where he still remained. It was dated from Port Said.
"Bound for Australia," were the three words the message contained; and
they were words of heavy import to Loria.
Australia! There was no reason why Virginia Beverly should not visit
Australia. He had heard her say that she would not be satisfied until she
had seen all the world. But if she had thought of going to Australia
before she left Mentone, she had carefully refrained from saying so. It
was more the fact that she had concealed such an intention than that she
was now carrying it out, which seemed ominous to Loria. Sydney was the
nearest place of departure for New Caledonia. In a Messageries mail boat
it took ten days to reach Noumea from Sydney; it would perhaps take
longer in a yacht like the _Bella Cuba_. And the sensible question to ask
would be, Was it likely that a bright, erratic, butterfly being like
beautiful Virginia Beverly would go so far simply for the pleasure of
seeing the prison which contained a stranger, a convicted assassin for
whom she had conceived a girlishly romantic interest?
It was not as if she could hope to meet and talk with Maxime Dalahaide
himself, have the pleasure of carrying him messages from his sister, or
perhaps even bring Madeleine to him (for the Château de la Roche was
empty now, in the hands of workmen, and no one, not even Loria, had been
able to learn where Mademoiselle Dalahaide and her aunt had gone). The
Italian was not unlearned in such lore of the far-away French prison-land
as could be obtained, and he had read that, though strangers were allowed
to land at Noumea, and a few had been enabled through influence to
penetrate inside the prison walls, all personal intercourse with the
convicts was strictly interdicted. Since the one almost miraculous
escape, over thirty years ago, of Henri Rochefort and Humbert, watch and
ward had been more strictly kept than ever; besides, they had escaped
from Ducos, on the Isle of Pines, which in those days had been sacred to
political prisoners, and discipline there had been, even then, lax
compared to that of the Ile Nou, the very heart of prison-land, where
Maxime Dalahaide was dragging out the weary years of his lost life.
Yet what if Virginia should have formed the extraordinary resolve of
going to Noumea? What was it to him--Loria--since she could accomplish
nothing there? Suppose, even, that among other miserable convicts she saw
Maxime--pallid, thin, sullen and hopeless, his good looks and his
brilliant audacity crushed and gone--would not the romantic feeling she
had conceived for him be instantly turned into horror and disgust? When
such a chill had withered a girl's fancy for a man, there could be no
future blossoming, and her heart might be caught in the rebound. Once,
Loria had thought that Virginia had been on the point of caring for him.
Perhaps when they met she would turn to him again, remorseful for the
pain she had caused, grateful for his unwavering loyalty; and, telling
himself these things, he was almost persuaded that it would do him more
good than harm if Virginia did go to Noumea. But he was never wholly
persuaded. A strange fear knocked at his heart, a fear that had no name.
He never quite saw its face. Like a haunting ghost, it was always behind
him, and he could hear the swish of its garments, the stealthy sound of
its footfalls; but when he turned upon it the thing was gone, leaving
only the impression of a black shadow with a veiled face inexpressibly
awful.
Loria could not sleep by night, and by day he was restless. He began to
dread an illness, and was constantly troubled with headache, which gave
him an excuse for believing that the vague, nervous apprehension he
suffered was largely the result of physical causes.
What else, indeed, could it be? He had absolutely nothing to fear. Of
this he was still continually reminding himself, when another telegram
came from Lady Gardiner, dated Sydney. "Leaving here to-morrow," she
said. "Destination unknown."
* * * * *
The _Bella Cuba_ was ten days out from Sydney Heads. Her passengers rose
early, for in the morning it was good to be alive. Virginia, fresh from
her cold, salt bath, came on deck, and saw the Countess de Mattos there,
with George Trent. Far away lay a strip of land, turning slowly from
violet to emerald as the yacht steamed nearer. Virginia saw it and
flushed. She knew what it must be, and quickly she glanced at George,
with an eager question in her eyes.
It was tacitly understood that the task of informing the Countess de
Mattos what her destination was to be must be left to Virginia; she
coveted it, while the two men did not. Still, the Portuguese might have
guessed, on seeing that strip of violet; or George might inadvertently
have given her a clue, and she would be on her guard.
But George's blue eyes met his sister's; and with the faintest shake of
his head he contrived to convey to her the intelligence that the secret
still remained a secret.
Virginia's heart was beating fast as she joined her brother and the
Countess, and her hand was not quite steady as she offered her
field-glass to the beautiful Portuguese, who had long ago begged the two
ladies on board to call her "Manuela."
"What a large island!" exclaimed the Countess. "And we seem to be making
for it. What can it be? Mr. Trent says perhaps it is a mirage. But I
think that is his joke. He likes teasing."
"I think," replied Virginia calmly, though her eyes were on the face of
Manuela, "that we must be coming in sight of New Caledonia."
As she gave this answer, Roger Broom came up the companionway, and heard
the last words, which rang out, distinctly. Instantly he knew that the
moment for which Virginia had been waiting was at hand, and he, too,
watched the Countess.
She had taken Virginia's field-glass, and was gazing through it at the
far-off land which with each moment seemed to grow more distinct. Only
the delicate, aquiline profile could be seen by the eager eyes that
looked for a sign of weakness. She did not speak at first, but a visible
shiver ran through her body. The field-glass came down rather suddenly,
and her fingers gripped it tightly as they rested on the rail. But she
did not turn her face, and continued gazing landward as at last she
echoed the words, "New Caledonia!"
"Is not that a prison for the French _forçats_?" she slowly asked.
Tacitly, the two men left the answer to Virginia. "Yes," said the girl.
"Noumea is a penal settlement. They say it is very interesting to see. We
thought that we might stop for a day or two in the harbour there."
This time the Countess turned. "Oh, but that would be terrible!" she
exclaimed. "We--they might rob and murder us, these convicts. You did not
say that we were coming to Noumea."
"It was to be one of our surprises," replied Virginia. "I thought that
you would like it."
"No, no!" ejaculated Manuela. "I do not like it at all. I have a horror
of such places and such people. This is a pleasure trip, is it not? There
is no pleasure in visiting a prison-land. Dear Virginia, dear Mr. Trent
and Sir Roger, do let us turn our faces another way and go somewhere
else."
Virginia had not lost a single changing shade of expression on the
Countess de Mattos's darkly beautiful face; but if she had been
questioned, she would have had to confess that she was disappointed in
the great effect toward which she had so long been working up. She had
half expected to see this wicked woman who, in some deadly and mysterious
way, had plotted to destroy Maxime Dalahaide, turn livid under the brown
stain which she (Virginia) suspected, gasp, totter, and perhaps fall
fainting when she heard those fatal names--"New Caledonia, Noumea." But
Manuela gave none of these evidences of distress. If she paled, the dusky
stain in whose existence Virginia so tenaciously believed hid the sign
of her emotion. It allowed a deep flush to be seen; even Virginia could
not deny that, but pallor was difficult to trace where complexion and
even lips were tinted brown and red; and the slight quivering of the
body, the dropping of the hand with the field-glass, were not so marked
that they might not be due to an ordinary, disagreeable surprise.
"I'm sorry you feel so about the place," said Virginia. "That's the worst
of planning surprises, isn't it? One can't always be sure of bringing off
a success. Now, I'm afraid we must make the best of it, for as we
arranged to come here, our stores won't last long enough to avoid New
Caledonia and go farther. We must buy butter and milk and vegetables, and
chickens and lots of things, to say nothing of coaling. But you needn't
see anything of the prison and the prisoners unless you like. The harbour
is said to be glorious, and you can stop on board and read novels, while
the rest of us do our sight-seeing, which won't take us very long."
"Sight-seeing in a prison!" exclaimed the Countess. "You English and
Americans are strange. We Latins, we never give ourselves pain that can
be avoided. There is enough that is unpleasant in life without that. Ugh!
I would rather do without butter and milk than buy it of convicts, who
may poison us in sheer spite because we are more fortunate than they.
Could we not turn round, and get back to Sydney without starving?"
"No, it couldn't be managed," said Virginia.
Manuela turned pleading eyes upon Roger and George. They were men; they
knew more about such things than women; besides she could usually make
men do what she wished. But for once she found creatures of the opposite
sex who were not to be melted by her pleading. They agreed with Virginia
that it was impossible now to avoid New Caledonia.
"And how long shall we stay?" plaintively inquired the Countess, when she
had been obliged to resign herself to the inevitable, which, to her
credit, she did with a very pretty grace. "Shall we leave again to-night,
with our poisoned food?"
"Wait till you have seen the rocks in the harbour," answered George. "If
they're as bad as the book says, they must be something to see. Anyhow,
it's only possible to get in or out between sunrise and sunset. I'm
afraid, Countess, you'll have to put up with it till to-morrow."
"Oh!" Manuela sighed a long sigh. She asked no more questions, she made
no more protests. She turned her back upon New Caledonia, and appeared to
dismiss the land of lost souls from her mind.
"Well," said Roger, when he and Virginia had walked away, leaving the
Countess and George Trent to the flirtation which was so embittering the
daily life of Lady Gardiner. "Well, was I right or wrong about this
woman?"
"Wrong," firmly answered Virginia.
"You say that still, after the way she took your _grand coup_? But this
is only because you hate giving up, beaten."
"I'm not beaten yet," the girl returned doggedly. "I hoped for something
different--yes, I admit that. But her game means as much to her as ours
does to us. She's playing it for all it's worth. If she weren't such a
wretch, I should have admired her pluck. How she held her ground! Taken
by surprise as she was, almost her first thought was whether we had
purposely caught her in this trap, or whether she had only an avenging
fate to thank for such a terrible and startling coincidence. I saw that,
at least, in her eyes and her face, Roger, though I didn't see all I had
been looking for. Think what she must have been feeling! She helped to
send an innocent man who had loved and trusted her into this exile, worse
than death. She thought herself free from him forever, because he was at
the other end of the world, dead-alive, in the grave where she buried
him. Suddenly she finds herself looking at that grave, unable to escape.
At any moment it may open, and the dead appear to accuse her. What a
situation!"
"What an imagination!" exclaimed Roger. "Dear child, you have let it
carry you away as far from the truth as you've carried this woman from
her home--this woman whom you've so audaciously kidnapped."
"Wait," said Virginia, her voice trembling. "I haven't done with her.
This is only the first turn of the thumbscrew. She doesn't dream yet of
the ordeal she'll have to go through."
"May have to go through," quietly amended Roger Broom.
"You mean--oh, Roger, don't you think we'll succeed in what we've come
for so far, so very far?"
Virginia, with tears sparkling in uplifted eyes, was irresistible.
"I hope it, dear," the man who loved and wanted her said, gravely. "I
never thought it, you know. But the way hasn't seemed far to me, because
I have been with you and the time will not have been wasted for me if we
fail, because it has kept me by your side. I shall think, 'I have done
what I could, and it has pleased Virginia.'"
"It has made Virginia grateful for all her life long," said the girl
softly, "and whatever happens she will never forget. You have done so
much already! Disapproving my plan, still you loyally did all you could
to forward it. You used your influence to get us the one chance here,
without which we could hope to do nothing. You wrote to the French
Ambassador in London, the English Ambassador in France, and finally, when
our interests were so twisted up in masses of official red-tape that it
seemed they could never get disentangled, you ran on to Paris yourself to
call on the Minister of the Colonies. If it had not been for the permit
you got from him, we might as well have given up coming here, for all the
prison doors would have been shut to us. Now, through him, and through
you, they will be open, and our first step is clear. All this made me
feel hopeful, when we were far away; I felt sure that we should succeed.
But now that we have come these thousands of miles in our poor little
boat; now that we have arrived at the end of the world and our real work
is still before us, my heart suddenly sinks down--down. I'm
frightened--I'm almost ill: and your words and your face are so grave,
Roger! Your very tenderness and kindness make it worse, for somehow, it's
as if you thought there might be a good-bye. It makes me realize that,
after all, the greatest danger is to be run by you and George. You have
both come for my sake; and--you are going to risk your lives."
"Risk your lives!" repeated a voice; and turning quickly, Virginia and
her cousin saw Lady Gardiner, who had lately developed a rather stealthy
way of creeping noiselessly behind her friends.
Virginia's mood was not one to promote presence of mind. She was
speechless; but Roger stepped in to the breach.
"We were talking of a swim that George and I propose to have in these
pleasant waters," he remarked. "There are supposed to be a good many
sharks about, and Virginia is advising prudence."
"Oh!" breathed Lady Gardiner. "She is quite right. We will all join our
persuasions to hers. But the Countess tells me this island is actually
New Caledonia, the French penal settlement. Isn't that where your friend
Miss Dalahaide's brother is imprisoned?"
"I believe so," said Virginia.
"How exciting! And how well you've kept the secret of this expedition! Is
there any chance of our coming across the interesting murderer?"
"Don't call him that!" Virginia cried hotly. "How do you suppose that it
would be possible for us to come across him? Do tourists who go to
Portland 'come across' prisoners who have been convicted of
murder--whether innocent or not? Noumea isn't the only port we have
visited. It is on our way. We shall stop a day or two, and then--we shall
go on somewhere else."
"Quite so," drily returned Lady Gardiner.
It was noon when they slowly steamed into the beautiful harbour of
Noumea, and before them lay the crime-cursed land, fair with the fatal
fairness of deadly nightshade.
There, for nearly five years, Maxime Dalahaide had not lived, but
existed. To give him back to life, she had come thousands of miles and
spent more than twenty thousand pounds. What would they find that he had
become, if those precious documents which Roger had obtained proved as
potent as they hoped? Would his brain and heart have been strong enough
to bear the hopeless agony, the shame, the hideous associations of those
years which to him must have seemed a century of despair; or would he
have fallen under the burden?
Virginia shivered as if with cold, as she fancied a hard, official voice
announcing that Number So-and-So was dead.