police. He will get much of that free advertising which Americans love
so well."
"Why, Carlos, what do you mean?"
"I think you know what I mean," and there was a threat in his manner.
Just then the large detective thrust his red face into the door.
"It's all right, miss. We're going ashore now in the pilot boat. But
you should have told us that your nigger was a dummy!"
Here was the last chance for the Duke. He grasped it, hurrying toward
the door.
"One moment, gentlemen, one moment!" and he laughed in Maria's face,
confident of his success. "If this person is famous, these gentlemen
should know him.... Do you know Warren, the Ghost Breaker?"
"The what?" asked the detective.
"The Ghost Breaker!"
Both men now entered the room, grinning at each other.
"He's off his trolleys again, Jim," said the big fellow to the other.
Jarvis stepped in through the deck door.
"Is this man Warren, the famous Ghost Breaker? This man right here!"
"The guy's dippy all right, cull," remarked the nearest sleuth to
Jarvis, who nodded most seriously.
"Agree with anything he says. You know!" he muttered.
The Duke was beside himself with rage.
"Answer my question! Is this man Warren the Ghost Breaker?"
"Aw, Dook, old top, that's all right. Don't worry about it!... Sure
he's a ghost breaker, ain't he, Jim?"
"Best bet you know," replied obliging Jim. "He's the prince of all
ghost breakers!"
The Duke smote his breast furiously, while the detectives smiled
sympathetically into Jarvis' serious face.
"_Sacristi!_ Am I Carlos Hernando, Duke of Alva, to be mocked at by two
grinning bull-necked scullions?"
"Whatever you say goes, Dook!" amiably replied the first detective.
A ship's officer appeared on the promenade deck and called through the
open door at them.
"Hurry up, if you're going ashore with the pilot, officers."
The two men bowed with their best imitation of gallantry, to the
Princess Maria Theresa of Aragon. Nita, standing in the vestibule, sent
a melting glance at the faithful Jim, who stumbled over the treacherous
cabin threshold.
The superior of the two shook hands pompously with Jarvis, whose left
hand was still in his pocket.
"Be kind to the little rascal, Doc. He might not get such good
treatment from them Scotland Yard bulls, on the other side. They don't
understand human nature like us fellers--they ain't got no education
over there. Good-by, Doc! Don't let your foot slip!"
He turned toward the Duke, as he passed through the door.
"You're all right, Dook, old boy, if you do have fits! Ghost
Breaker--ha, ha!"
Carlos started toward the other door, with a bound.
"It's not too late. I'll see the captain."
Jarvis, sitting on the trunk, whistled with typical American lack of
reverence. As the nobleman turned about, he found himself looking into
the barrel of the revolver. A quizzical smile played about the firm
lines of the Kentuckian's mouth.
"Don't be in too big a hurry, your Excellency. The captain is apt to be
busy just now. And besides, he may not believe in ghosts!"
X
A WAGER WITH THE DUKE
What a curious sea voyage!
The Duke's attempt to warn the captain of the nature of this one
particular passenger never eventualized. When the _Mauretania_ had
finally left behind all sight of America, Jarvis relaxed his severity.
"You may enjoy yourself, Excellency," he said, as he put away the
revolver. "But I would like to speak to you alone. As the
representative of the Princess, on a most important mission, I am
compelled to look after her interests in a definite manner."
He faced the girl meaningly.
"Will you excuse us for a moment's interchange of pleasantries?"
She nodded, and retired to her bedroom with Nita.
"What do you want, you scoundrel? I know that you are an impostor--a
make-believe, and worse!"
"Take it easy, Duke. I'm really not too enthusiastic over you. But this
Colt revolver is not a make-believe. I am only going to bother your
aristocratic memory with this one little idea--that if there is any
reporting to the captain or ship's officers, to interfere with my
services as Ghost Breaker for the royal house of Aragon, there is going
to be a nice band concert in the public square of your native town--and
the special number on the programme will be the 'Dead March from Saul,'
with pretty black crepe on the ducal doorknob! Do you catch my
meaning?"
"You Yankee pig!"
"I'm not a Yankee--I'm a Johnny Reb, by birth and education. But both
Yankees and Rebels acquired a reputation for marksmanship about fifty
years ago." The jest died out of his voice. "One whimper from you, damn
you, and I'll shoot you as I would a mad dog!"
There was such a savage rasp in that mellow Southern voice that the
Duke instinctively dodged backward, as though expecting the first
volley.
"We shall see what we shall see!" were his final words. "And if I see
you about the cabin of my cousin again,--well, perhaps the officers of
this ship may take a hand."
Warren pursed his lips into an ironical grin.
"You know, a member of my profession doesn't take a solemn oath to wait
until the remains are resting in pieces: it might not be a difficult
task to take up an avocation as well as a vocation. I wonder if I
couldn't be a pretty good Ghost Maker? Think it over."
Jarvis, with a simple word of good-bye to the Princess, returned to his
own cabin, where he lost himself in slumber. The tortures of his trunk
trip were still with him, in aching muscles and strained ligaments.
The girl wondered what had become of him, for it was not until late in
the evening that he telephoned to her at the suite.
She was on the deck, listening to the orchestra concert. Nita responded
at the 'phone. Jarvis surprised the girl by a voluble discourse in
Spanish. He had mastered it in his tropical travels. It was to come in
as a life-saving accomplishment before the end of the adventure.
"Tell me, Nita. Have you good eyes?" he curiously inquired.
"Ah, senor, so I am told," was the ingenuous reply.
"Well, in that sense I have my doubts about their goodness ... but what
I want you to do, for the sake of your Princess and her brother, is to
keep those black eyes eternally watchful. I am expecting some curious
tricks from one we know. Let her know what you see--and she will tell
me. Remember--keep looking, listening all the time."
Nita promised, and Warren repaired to the lounge, where he observed the
Duke nursing his ill-humor over a lonesome absinthe _frappe_.
Warren did not seek companionship either, upon this journey. He knew
too many men in the ranks of the international traders, to dare risk
recognition. The great roadway between New York and the European ports
has now become a veritable promenade, thronged with travelers: it is no
longer a lonely passage.
The great steamship was crowded on this trip, Rusty being in good luck
to obtain a stateroom relinquished just before sailing time. With
nearly two thousand people on board, it was a floating town--and more
than once in the crowded decks and saloons he caught glimpses of men he
knew in club, college, or business. He would invariably beat a
precipitate retreat. His daily procedure was hermit-like. With the
exception of an early morning stroll, alone, on the promenade deck, he
took no more chances after that first morning. His meals were served in
his stateroom. From the splendid library of the ship he secured ample
reading material to while away the time.
At night he spent an hour in walking with the Princess--and they were
wonderful moments. Each evening he seemed to grow better acquainted
with this unusual woman--finding beneath the surface of courtly reserve
a depth of feeling, a breadth of humanity which would hardly have been
believable from her calm, almost indifferent manner.
Her education in an English school had internationalized her--her wide
knowledge of books, in all the literatures of Europe, her familiarity
with the best of art, poetry, the drama and music--had made of her a
delightful, ever surprising traveling companion.
The girl was interested in everything American. She plied him with
questions about the city, the country, the customs. Her brief stay in
New York had been all too limited--her curiosity was only whetted by
the brief survey of externals which is all that a stranger may get,
without the guidance of an initiate.
To her, America represented a great new universe, teeming with
vitality. Compared with the mediaevalism of her own country, the
modernity of the States was a wonderful poetic drama of ideals,
accomplishment, and goals worth while.
"What do you think of titles, Mr. Jarvis?" asked the girl, one evening.
"When you made your recessional into the Middle Ages by taking the
feudal oath to me, you were flippant, almost sarcastic: yet by my
standards, I could not feel that any man could defend my interests with
propriety unless he were of my own people--so, you were adopted with
more seriousness than you supposed."
Jarvis flicked a cigarette into the swirling waters far beneath them,
as he answered.
"Titles do not appeal to Americans, as a general thing. To the simpler
folk, they represent the yoke of the ancient Lion whose mane was
cropped in 1776. To the broader folk, they are no more than the marks
of family: although I must confess that your worthy cousin would create
much fluttering of hearts and waving of ivory fans around Newport and
Lennox,--where American hearts, of a sort, and American fortunes of
questionable worth are bartered for a tin-plated coronet. But that's
the revenge of the Great God of Misfits."
He turned toward her, resting his hand upon the rail.
"You are no different physically, mentally, socially from many of the
Southern, Northern, and Western girls I have met in my own country. You
are dependent upon the fashions, to bring your charms to the utmost
effectiveness." The Princess blushed in the dark. "But, differing from
many of them, you do succeed!" he added.
"You are just as human as the fine girls I have met back home--your
titled classes correspond with the fine old families of the United
States--and we have the advantage over you that by our own endeavor we
can change the titles, by our own efforts, without waiting for the
death of our loved ones."
His mind turned to his own mother, to whom his successes had been a
source of increasing happiness.
"I was only a little knight back home in Kentucky--when I was a tiny
chap. As I went into the world, and fought the battles, and won some
(after losing more), to my dad and the mother I became a prince.... And
the great thing about being a prince--to your family--in a republic, as
compared with being a prince in a monarchy, is that a chap must keep on
making good in the job, or he'll fail of election, just in the years
when he wants it most!
"To tell you the truth, your Highness, America is crowded with 'wealthy
families,' 'socially prominent,' 'old Colonial families,' two or three
million _Mayflower_ blossoms, and similar Philistines! There are
hundreds of clever people who make good annual incomes in our country
with their ingenuity in connecting the Joneses and the Browns and the
Smiths with Richard the Lion-Heart and Bill the Conqueror, by marriage.
In my native State, Kentucky, there are enough majors, colonels, and
generals to officer the armies of Europe--and as for judges!... There
are enough badges, fraternity pins, cockades, and association medals to
keep second-hand jewelers busy for their lifetimes! My countrymen are
the most passionate collectors of heraldic certificates and
genealogical maps in the world. The instinct for decoration is
prevalent--the more obscure the family, the more plentiful the framed
diplomas of aristocratic origin on the walls!"
The Princess was unable to follow the cynicism of the speech, but a
growing admiration for Jarvis' analytical powers led her to put
confidence in his opinions.
"And what harm does it do?" he concluded. "They are titles of universal
brotherhood, and peace breeds more American colonels and majors than an
international Armageddon. And it is all in the game!"
"And then, you do not have such a disgust for titles and the marks of
good family, after all?"
She was almost eager in her inquisition of the vassal.
"Your Serene Highness has no cause for worry: although you will
doubtless never need care for any American opinion" (and Warren studied
her face, as the fine silhouette was illumined by the nearby deck
light), "for in my country a princess is recognized whether she wear
ermine robes, or a calico shirtwaist and a ragged skirt. You see,--a
republic is at least well illuminated. We're not afraid of the
light!... However, I imagine that your title will be changed before
another year, and in that case you will have no cause for curiosity!"
The girl's eyes burned as she questioned him.
"What do you mean, Mr. Jarvis? For a vassal, you are decidedly
presumptuous. You need not come to court again until you are summoned.
Good-night."
And then she turned, as Jarvis maintained a discreet silence, walking
rapidly toward the promenade door of her suite. He bade her good-night,
without response.
Jarvis remembered an old verse of the greatest balladist of the century:
"_For Julia O'Grady and the Colonel's lady,
Were both the same, under the skin--
And I learned about women from 'er!_"
Maria Theresa was not in a mood to see Jarvis for two more days.
Instead of trying to win her forgiveness for a wrong--he had not
committed--he stuck the closer to his stateroom, where, with the
solicitous attention of Rusty, he lived a drone-like and peaceful
existence, poring over books. They were not fiction or philosophy--the
Kentuckian's interest was in Baedeker and other books on Spain. With
the same application which had carried him over the thin ice of college
examinations, he had grasped a valuable understanding of the customs
and peculiarities of Spain. He gave especial attention to the railroad
maps, for Warren was not trusting too implicitly to the permanent
humility of the Duke.
That worthy was passing a most disagreeable voyage.
He was naturally of an irascible, dictatorial temperament--accustomed
to flattery and adulation. On this return trip to the Continent, the
ship's list comprised Americans for the most part. They were in little
humor to cajole the swarthy, sarcastic, and unsociable Spaniard. Their
minds were too full of the pleasures of the months to come, of plans
and frolics in contemplation, to sacrifice their time to this dour
personage.
The Duke endeavored to mellow his own discomfiture at Maria Theresa's
coldness with numerous visits to the grill. The result was a morning
"grouch," an afternoon headache, and a twilight bitterness which kept
him permanently aloof from all companionship.
On two occasions he had observed Warren in earnest and apparently
friendly conversation with the captain and first officer. He was not
aware that it was intended for his own benefit--and that nothing more
intimate than the weather was under discussion. But it presaged a
prompt information to the "Ghost Breaker" in case he registered his
complaint. The Duke's methods of warfare were not of the
gallant-charge-against-intrenchments variety. He specialized in the
executive ability which directs the activities of other men; and so he
bided his time.
The fifth evening out from New York harbor--they were due some time the
following day in the Mersey, dependent largely upon the tide and
weather--he could stand no longer the evident growth of friendliness
between his cousin and her "employed" assistant.
Maria Theresa had forgiven the Kentuckian for his jest--without the
formality of an apology, because she was a woman. She had once more
yielded to her loneliness, and walked the wind-swept promenade deck to
discuss their common subjects.
As Jarvis bade her good-night and stepped into the shadow of the deck,
he observed the aristocrat knocking angrily upon the cabin door.
"Let me in, Maria," cried the Duke, in Castilian. "I must talk to you,
for your own good."
"I suppose that means my bad," muttered Jarvis. "I'll just smoke
another cigarette in the neighborhood, to see how things go."
The Duke was admitted--his conversation in the parlor of the suite
seemed to last for half an hour. At last the door opened, and he
reappeared. He was talking excitedly at the doorway.
"What I have said to you, I would say before him, were he not skulking
in his cabin, afraid of justice. He is a pig of a poltroon!" cried his
Excellency. "I wish he were here now, and I would tell it to his face."
The girl replied calmly--so quietly indeed that Jarvis could not
distinguish the words.
But he stepped forward, and laid a hand upon the nobleman's arm. Carlos
jumped nervously, as though bitten by a snake.
"Here I am, your Excellency. Let's hear what it is you have to say?"
The other swallowed his choler, speaking with difficulty.
"I ... I ... cannot speak on the deck of the ship!" he exclaimed.
"Then come into my cabin again," said the Princess with pardonable
asperity. "You may tell Mr. Jarvis your opinion of him now."
Jarvis gave the Duke an ungentle shove, with the result that the
troublesome door threshold again intercepted to demonstrate the laws of
gravity. The Duke sprawled most unromantically upon the deck inside. He
scrambled to his feet, muttering Spanish oaths.
"Dog! If you were my equal socially I would challenge you!" he
spluttered.
"If you were my equal physically I would punch your head," was the apt
reply of the American. "Now, let's hear this opinion which you were so
anxious to tell to my face."
There was a humorous twinkle in the dark eyes of the Princess, and
Warren observed, down the passageway to the private stateroom, the
smiling face of Nita, the maid.
"Well, Mr. Warren ... I ... merely ... said that I know you to be what
you Yankees call a humbug! For some purposes of your own--perhaps to
attempt a theft of this imaginary fortune, you are trying to get to
Seguro ... However," and at the quiet interest on the face of Jarvis he
was emboldened to make his statements more emphatic, "I have my doubts
about your honesty in the whole matter."
"And that means what, your Excellency?"
"I don't believe you even intend to risk the chances in Spain. You have
duped my cousin, a helpless, innocent girl--ignorant of the sharp ways
of American adventurers. You have secured a free passage on this ship,
and doubtless an advance payment, to engage you. I would wager anything
that you will never see Spain, in this case."
Jarvis smiled ingratiatingly.
"You are a clever student of character. Such men make good gamblers.
How much are you willing to wager on this little affair? How much will
you bet that I do not appear in Spain?"
The Duke of Alva bit his lip. He had lost too much in recent gamings to
afford greater risks just now. But he was a sportsman--particularly did
he wish to impress his kinswoman.
"I will wager a thousand pounds of English money,--five thousand
dollars in your American rags,--that you will not appear at Seguro in
time to help the Princess."
"That's a great deal of money, especially for a hard-working business
man like myself," answered Warren. "What are the exact stipulations of
this wager? I might borrow the money from the Princess, as an advance
payment for breaking the ghost?"
Carlos sneered exultantly.
"Yes, you might borrow it but there is not so much ready money around
Seguro. My terms, if you care to know them, are these: I wager the
thousand pounds that you will not be at Seguro three nights from
to-morrow--the time when we will arrive, according to the train
schedule. However, why should I waste talk, with a man, on a bet which
is not for tradesmen but for gentlemen?"
"Who would hold the stakes?"
The Duke smiled, and waved a gallant hand toward his cousin.
"Who better than my kinswoman, the Princess of Aragon?"
"Who better?" echoed Jarvis.
He was fumbling with his waistcoat, his back to the Princess and her
cousin. Suddenly with a jerk, he brought forth a leather money belt
which had been tightly bound about his body, diagonally over one and
under another shoulder. The Duke's eyes protruded. Jarvis dropped the
treasure "chest" upon the table, while even the Princess evidenced her
surprise. Opening the little pockets, which joined each other along its
entire length, he began to pile up gold pieces.
"I believe I have the amount handy, your Excellency!" he remarked
amiably. "May I trouble you to invite you to produce the money for your
own side of the bet? We have a vulgar custom among us in America, of
requesting the other man to either 'put up or shut up.'"
It happened that this cash had been carefully drawn from his resources
before the eventful last evening at the club. Jarvis had prepared
himself for all exigencies: he had not imagined that the first use
would be a reversal to the ancient custom of his ancestors in the Blue
Grass State,--a bet upon a race. But blood will tell, and here he was
in the time-honored custom of the family!
The Duke had not seen so much cash since his last ill-fated pilgrimage
to Monte Carlo. He was staggered. But the musical laugh of the Princess
brought back the haughty _savoir faire_ for which he was noted!
"Ah ... well ... I understand you, sir," he stammered, with improving
volubility. "Very good. As the Duke of Alva, it is not necessary for me
to produce the exact cash on the spot. The word of a Spanish nobleman
is as good as his bond. It is a wager, and the terms stand."
His black eyes studied the pile of gold coins with sparkling interest.
"Very good,--twice in the same place. The word of a Kentuckian is as
good as his bond. I agreed to let the Princess be the stakeholder--she
may hold your word, and my money-belt. Your Serene Highness--will you
do me the honor?"
And he turned toward the blushing girl, as he handed over the treasure.
The insult was not lost on the Duke. But, as Jarvis reached for his
hat, he could not resist a final slap!
"Good-night, your Highness. I advise you to be very careful with the
lock on the door. The ship lands to-morrow evening, and some villain
may break into your stateroom, rob you of the Duke's word of honor and
sell it to some enterprising Liverpool pawnbroker. Pleasant dreams! I
hope to welcome you to Seguro, your Excellency. Don't spend the five
thousand until you get there--remember, the home industries need
encouragement."
And he walked out to the promenade deck. The Duke looked at his cousin,
flushed a swarthy red at the cynical laugh on her pretty face. Then he,
too, hurried out--through the saloon passage. He was anxious to get to
his own stateroom to think things over.
XI
WHEN THE SHIP COMES IN
Back in his stateroom Warren was poring with renewed interest over the
time-tables between Liverpool, London, Paris, and Madrid. Seguro was on
the main line from the French capital to the principal one of Spain.
As he made various penciled memoranda upon a page of his leather
notebook, the telephone bell tinkled.
He answered and heard the voice of the Princess.
"Can you see me at once,--on the promenade deck, by my door?"
"Yes. Good-by."
In a few moments he was talking to her in the dark; all the lights of
her suite were out. The girl was very nervous.
"I have a paper which Nita found upon the floor--it was crumpled and
must have fallen from the pocket of my cousin when he fell. I want to
give you back that belt, Mr. Jarvis: for I have heard before of some of
the wager-debts of Carlos. It is safer with you. Let me know what you
think about this paper, and tell me to-morrow morning. We are due in
port late in the evening, you know."
"I will. There may be something in which I wish your help, as well,
your Highness. I have made up my mind to reach Seguro before the
Duke--for many reasons."
The girl caught his hand impetuously.
"You don't fear for your life before you get there, do you?" she asked
softly. "I want you to help me in my castle. That is our bargain--but I
know you better than I did when we met in New York. I don't want you to
run too big a risk for me until the great trial comes. Do be careful,
now."
A thrill sent the Kentuckian's head reeling for an instant at the
unexpected touch of those warm, electric fingers. Then he caught
himself.