With Seyd and his cargo of reflections aboard, the train meanwhile
puffed steadily up the four-per-cent. grades which carry the railway
eleven thousand feet high to the shoulder of the old giant volcano,
Ajuasoa. While he stared out of the window the vivid panorama of the hot
country, the green seas of corn or cane which surged around white-walled
haciendas, the chocolate peons behind their wooden plows, and the pretty
brown girls at the stations gradually gave place to volcanic lava fields
and gloomy woods of pinon, and these again merged into the innumerable
hamlets which spread brown adobe skirts around Mexico City unseen by
him.
"She is coming back! She is coming back!" It ran all the while in his
mind, and formed the undertone of his conversation with Don Luis in the
patio of the Iturbide that evening. When the old man stated his
intention of taking the night train down to the Gulf it was only by a
powerful effort that Seyd avoided the lunacy of offering to accompany
him. All that night he burned in a flame of feeling, and as a
consequence he rose tired out and presented such a picture of meekness
when ushered into the office of the general manager, one so opposite to
the usual fiery mien of the wronged shipper, that the stony heart of the
official was melted within him.
"You certainly have a kick coming," he admitted. "A big one, at that.
I'll look into this myself, and if you'll please return at four I hope
to have news of your freight."
In their passage down through the departments, however, his inquiries
soon came to a stop. "So this is the fellow who has been bucking old
General Garcia in the Barranca de Guerrero?" he commented to his third
assistant; and his further remarks were equally enlightening. "Well,
politics are politics, but this has gone far enough. I like the boy's
looks, and this railroad isn't going to be used to fight the General's
battles any longer. After this, Mr. Chauvez, see that Mr. Seyd gets his
freight. Where is that last car?"
The third assistant's shoulders executed the Latin equivalent of "Search
me!" At last news, peon "brakies" on the Nacional had been using it as a
roller coaster on the mountain grades going down to Monterey. If
Providence had intervened before it ran off into the sea Mr. Chauvez
opined that it would most likely be found on that city's wharves. All of
which, after some clicking and humming of wires, culminated in the
manager's report to Seyd at four.
"It seems that your freight was switched by mistake over to Monterey.
If you leave it to us"--his stern eye loosed a twinkle--"you'll probably
get it sometime in the next six months. But if you'll take these passes
for the evening train and hunt it up yourself you can have it tagged
onto the train that leaves to-morrow night."
Though the vicissitudes of thirty years' railroading had almost
petrified his heart, the organ stirred faintly as Seyd returned hearty
thanks. Watching him go out, he even muttered: "It's a damned shame! But
I'll take care that he's bothered no more."
More grateful on his part than he had any legal right to be, Seyd would
have been better pleased had the passes read to Vera Cruz. Knowing that
Francesca must pass through Mexico City on her way home, he would have
preferred even to stay where he was. But the thought of Billy fretting
himself thin at the mine reinforced his naturally strong sense of duty,
and he took the train out that night. And his steadfastness made for his
good. During his three days' absence the flame of feeling which was
consuming his resolution and blinding his thought burned itself out. The
morning after he had seen his car billed through to his own station he
rose with his mind clear and a renewed purpose to do the right thing.
"At the first favorable opportunity I shall tell her," he told himself,
in the coach going down to the station. With the thought strong in his
mind he stepped on the train and--came face to face with Francesca
herself.
"Oh! it is _you_!"
"I--I--thought you were already gone!"
While he blushed and stammered confusedly his senses, nevertheless, took
cognizance of the fluttering rush of her hands, the happy eyes in the
midst of her flushes, other things that answered, without words, several
questions which had greatly perplexed him. Whatever the cause behind her
long silence, it was neither the resurrection of her racial pride nor,
as he had sometimes suspected, her discovery of his marriage. Indeed,
her very next words gave him an inkling.
"You must have wondered why I did not write? But I--could not help it."
She glanced at her mother, who, with eloquent hands, was telegraphing
him welcome from the other end of the car. "I will tell you later--all."
In his surprise and gladness his mind still clung to his resolve, and,
nearly as possible, he kept his pact with himself. "I also have
something to tell."
She looked up quickly. But his eyes indicated no diminution of the old
feeling. Satisfied, she asked, with a little sigh: "The mine? Something
gone wrong? You will tell us--now."
The senora, who had caught the last sentence, added her word. "_Si_, for
we, you know, are your friends." Making room for him by her side, she
punctuated his tale of the summer's mishaps with pitiful exclamations,
and comforted him at the end with maternal solicitude. "_Si_, at the
first glance I saw it, that you had suffered. But, courage, _amigo_, it
will make for your greater enjoyment in the end."
Francesca had taken the seat opposite, and, catching her eye just then,
Seyd saw, along with the sympathy and understanding, a gleam of
exultation. "You suffered, _si_, but I'm glad for--'twas for me." Her
glance said it plainly as words, and he ached to answer it; but, in
accordance with the honest course he had laid out for himself, he
refrained, and went on talking to her mother.
"Don Luis," she answered his question, "is in the front car with
Sebastien--in attendance on our dear friend, his mother."
He knew that he had no part in their grief, and, tentatively, he began,
"If I can be of any help--"
Divining his feeling from the pause, she answered at once: "You are very
kind. Francesca, poor _nina_, has been under a great strain. 'Twill be a
mercy if you will stay here and talk."
Now that her first blushes had died, he could see it for himself. Her
smile added the soft confession, "You did not suffer alone."
Under her look Seyd felt his resolution weaken; to save it he looked out
of the window, whereupon it gained strength from the thought of his
impending confession. But it relaxed again the next time their glances
met; and, as love is an anarchist who scoffs alike at law and death,
their communications proceeded with alternate thawings and freezings,
while, in reverse order, the black lava fields and gloomy pinon gave
place to the painted hamlets, pink churches, and villages of huts in
green seas of corn. Yet, if a little worse for wear, his resolution
held. Indeed, it found definite expression when the train stopped at
last at their station.
"I must see you soon!" he said, as they went out. "I have something very
serious to say."
Once more she looked up quickly. "We shall be at El Quiss, Sebastien's
place, for three days. After that you will find me at home. But do not
come alone!" The hasty addition threw more light on the causes behind
her sudden departure. "As you value your life--nay, you were always
careless of that--promise, for my sake, that you will not come alone?
When you go out anywhere take with you at least one man."
"Is it so serious as that?" But he stopped laughing when he saw she was
hurt. "There! I promise!"
She paid him, alighting, with a clasp of her hand that left its soft
clinging pressure tingling after she disappeared in the crowd of
rancheros and hacendados, Sebastien's retainers and friends, who filled
the station. His sharp gray eye had already singled out his car on a
side track, and while he waited for the agent Sebastien and Don Luis
passed, walking behind the coffin.
He was seen, moreover, by them, and after they had mounted and were
riding side by side at the head of the funeral procession Sebastien
spoke. "Your gringo was at the station."
Don Luis nodded. "_Si_, he came down on the train."
After a silence Sebastien spoke again. "It seems that he has been having
trouble with his freight."
Ignoring the subtle suggestion conveyed by the accent, Don Luis
laconically answered, "He is not the first."
"But will be the last. Ernestino Chauvez, my second cousin, is in the
department of freights. Yesterday he told me that, by special order,
there are to be no more miscarriages of this man's freight."
The heavy brown mask refused even a sign. "This had better happened a
year ago."
"Then he is near the end of his rope?" Sebastien leaped to the
conclusion.
"His first note of hand to me is due next month."
"And--"
Don Luis's massive shoulders rose. "How should I know, _amigo_, what
money he has?"
"But if he pay not?"
Again Don Luis shrugged. "Sebastien, how often am I to tell it--that no
gringo shall force in on my lands."
* * * * *
In happy ignorance as yet of the significance implied in their
conversation, Seyd at that moment was reading and rereading, with
incredulous joy, a newspaper clipping which had been forwarded by a
friend in Albuquerque.
MRS. ROBERT SEYD, WIFE OF PROMINENT MINING ENGINEER, GRANTED
DIVORCE
The content below ran as is usual when feminine enthusiasm over its
wrongs has been unchecked by fear of a reply, and in handing down his
decision the local Dogberry--who was unaware that the notice of the
plaintiff's remarriage would appear in the same issue with his
remarks--had pronounced it the most heartless case of desertion in all
his experience upon the bench. Reading a second clipping which set forth
the marriage, Seyd indulged in a grin. But this quickly faded. Pity and
sympathy colored his remark.
"Poor thing! I hope she'll be happy." Self reproach vibrated in the
addition, "She was not, never could have been, with me."
With that she passed out of his thought just as she had already gone
from his life. His mind leaped to review the consequences. Free! Free!
In the first flush of his joy he exulted over the fact that his
intended confession was now unnecessary. But later and more sober
reflections caused him to shake his head.
"No!" He laid down the law peremptorily for himself. "There's been
enough and to spare of shilly-shallying. You will go to her and tell
her--all! And if she refuses you there'll be no one to blame but
yourself."