CHAPTER VIII.

JOHNNY CARR IS WILLFUL.

The next three days were on the whole the most uncomfortable I have

ever spent in my life. I got little sleep and no rest; I went about

with a revolver handy all day, and jumped every time I heard a sound.

I expended much change in buying every edition of all the papers; I

listened with dread to the distant cries of news-venders, fearing, as

the words gradually became distinguishable, to hear that our secret

was a secret no longer. I was bound to show myself, and yet shrank

from all gatherings of men. I transacted my business with an absent

mind and a face of such superhuman innocence that, had anyone been

watching me, he must at once have suspected something wrong. I was

incapable of adding up a row of figures, and Jones became most

solicitous about the state of my brain. In a word, my nerves were

quite shattered, and I registered a vow never to upset a Government

again as long I lived. In future, the established constitution would

have to be good enough for me. I invoked impartial curses on the

President, the colonel, the directors, and myself! and I verily

believe that only the thought of the signorina prevented me making a

moonlight flitting across the frontier with a whole skin at least, if

with an empty pocket, and leaving the rival patriots of Aureataland to

fight it out among themselves.

Happily, however, nothing occurred to justify my fears. The other side

seemed to be sunk in dull security. The President went often to the

Ministry of Finance, and was closeted for hours with Don Antonio; I

suppose they were perfecting their nefarious scheme. There were

no signs of excitement or activity at the barracks; the afternoon

gatherings on the Piazza were occupied with nothing more serious than

the prospects of lawn tennis and the grievous dearth of dances. The

official announcements relative to the debt had had a quieting effect;

and all classes seemed inclined to wait and see what the President's

new plan was.

So passed Wednesday and Thursday. On neither day had I heard anything

from my fellow-conspirators; our arrangements for writing had so far

proved unnecessary--or unsuccessful. The latter possibility sent a

shiver down my back, and my lively fancy pictured his Excellency's

smile as he perused the treasonable documents. If I heard nothing

on the morning of Friday, I was determined at all risks to see the

colonel. With the dawn of that eventful day, however, I was relieved

of this necessity. I was lying in bed about half-past nine (for I

never add to the woes of life by early rising) when my servant brought

in three letters.

"Sent on from the bank, sir," he said, "with Mr. Jones' compliments,

and are you going there this morning?"

"My compliments to Mr. Jones, and he may expect me in five minutes," I

replied.

The letters were all marked "Immediate"; one from the signorina, one

from the colonel, one from the barracks. I opened the last first and

read as follows:

"The officers of the Aureataland Army have the honor to remind Mr.

John Martin that they hope to have the pleasure of his company at

supper this evening at ten o'clock precisely. In the unavoidable

absence of his Excellency, the President, owing to the pressing cares

of state, and of the Hon. Colonel McGregor from indisposition, the

toast of the Army of Aureataland will be proposed by Major Alphonse

DeChair.

"P.S.--Cher Martin, speak long this night. The two great men do not

come, and the evening wants to be filled out. _Tout à vous_,

"ALPHONSE DECHAIR."

"It shall be long, my dear boy, and we will fill out your evening for

you," said I to myself, well pleased so far.

Then I opened the signorina's epistle.

"DEAR MR. MARTIN [it began]:

Will you be so kind as to send me in

the course of the day _twenty dollars in

small change_? I want to give the

school children a scramble. I inclose

check. I am so sorry you could not

dine with me to-night, but after all I

am glad, because I should have had to

put you off, for I am commanded

rather sudden to dine at the Golden

House. With kind regards, believe

me, yours sincerely,

"CHRISTINA NUGENT."

"Very good," said I. "I reckon the scramble will keep. And now for the

colonel."

The colonel's letter ran thus:

"DEAR MARTIN: I inclose check

for five hundred dollars. My man will

call for the cash to-morrow morning.

I give you notice because I want it all

in silver for wages. [Rather a poverty

of invention among us, I thought.]

Carr and I are here together, both

seedy. Poor Carr is on his back and

likely to remain there for a day or two--bad

attack of champagne. I'm

better, and though I've cut the affair at

barracks to-night, I fully expect to be

up and about this afternoon.

"Ever yours,

"GEO. MCGREGOR."

"Oh! so Carr is on his back and likely to remain there, is he? Very

likely, I expect; but I wonder what it means. I hope the colonel

hasn't been very drastic. However, everything seems right; in fact,

better than I hoped."

In this more cheerful frame of mind I arose, breakfasted at leisure,

and set out for the bank about eleven.

Of course, the first person I met in the street was one of the last I

wanted to meet, namely, Donna Antonia. She was on horseback, and her

horse looked as if he'd done some work. At the sight of me she reined

up, and I could not avoid stopping as I lifted my hat.

"Whence so early?" I asked.

"Early?" she said. "I don't call this early. I've been for a long

ride; in fact, I've ridden over to Mr. Carr's place, with a message

from papa; but he's not there. Do you know where he is, Mr. Martin?"

"Haven't an idea," said I.

"He hasn't been home for four nights," she continued, "and he hasn't

been to the Ministry either. It's very odd that he should disappear

like this, just when all the business is going on, too."

"What business, Donna Antonia?" I asked blandly.

She colored, recollecting, no doubt that the business was still a

secret.

"Oh, well! you know they're always busy at the Ministry of Finance at

this time. It's the time they pay everybody, isn't it?"

"It's the time they ought to pay everybody," I said.

"Well," she went on, without noticing my correction, "at any rate,

papa and the President are both very much vexed with him; so I offered

to make my ride in his direction."

"Where can he be?" I asked again.

"Well," she replied, "I believe he's at Colonel McGregor's, and after

lunch I shall go over there. I know he dined there on Monday, and I

dare say he stayed on."

"No," thought I, "you mustn't do that, it might be inconvenient." So I

said:

"I know he's not there; I heard from McGregor this morning, and he

says Carr left him on Tuesday. Why, how stupid I am! The colonel says

Carr told him he was going off for a couple of days' sail in his

yacht. I expect he's got contrary winds, and can't get back again."

"It's very bad of him to go," she said, "but no doubt that's it. Papa

will be angry, but he'll be glad to know no harm has come to him."

"Happy to have relieved your mind," said I, and bade her farewell,

thanking my stars for a lucky inspiration, and wondering whether Don

Antonio would find no harm had come to poor Johnny. I had my doubts.

I regretted having to tell Donna Antonia what I did not believe to

be true, but these things are incidental to revolutions--a point of

resemblance between them and commercial life.

When I arrived at the bank I dispatched brief answers to my budget of

letters; each of the answers was to the same purport, namely, that I

should be at the barracks at the appointed time. I need not trouble

the reader with the various wrappings in which this essential piece

of intelligence was involved. I then had a desperate encounter with

Jones; business was slack, and Jones was fired with the unholy desire

of seizing the opportunity thus offered to make an exhaustive inquiry

into the state of our reserve. He could not understand my sudden

punctiliousness as to times and seasons, and I was afraid I should

have to tell him plainly that only over my lifeless body should he

succeed in investing the contents of the safe. At last I effected

a diversion by persuading him to give Mrs. Jones a jaunt into the

country, and, thus left in peace, I spent my afternoon in making final

preparations. I burned many letters; I wrote a touching farewell to

my father, in which, under the guise of offering forgiveness, I took

occasion to point out to him how greatly his imprudent conduct had

contributed to increase the difficulties of his dutiful son. I was

only restrained from making a will by the obvious imprudence of

getting it witnessed. I spent a feverish hour in firing imaginary

shots from my revolver, to ascertain whether the instrument was in

working order. Finally I shut up the bank at five, went to the Piazza,

partook of a light repast, and smoked cigars with mad speed till it

was time to dress for the supper; and never was I more rejoiced than

when the moment for action at last came. As I was dressing, lingering

over each garment with a feeling that I might never put it on, or,

for that matter, take it off again, I received a second note from

the colonel. It was brought by a messenger, on a sweating horse, who

galoped up to my door. I knew the messenger well by sight; he was the

colonel's valet. My heart was in my mouth as I took the envelope from

his hands (for I ran down myself). The fellow was evidently in our

secret, for he grinned nervously at me as he handed it over, and said:

"I was to ride fast, and destroy the letter if anyone came near."

I nodded, and opened it. It said:

"C. escaped about six this evening.

Believed to have gone to his house.

He _suspects_. If you see him, shoot on

sight."

I turned to the man.

"Had Mr. Carr a horse?" I asked.

"No, sir; left on foot."

"But there are horses at his house."

"No, sir, the colonel has borrowed them all."

"Why do you think he's gone there?"

"Couldn't come along the road to Whittingham, sir, it's patrolled."

There was still a chance. It was ten miles across the country from the

colonel's to Johnny's and six miles on from Johnny's to Whittingham.

The man divined my thoughts.

"He can't go fast, sir, he's wounded in the leg. If he goes home

first, as he will, because he doesn't know his horses are gone, he

can't get here before eleven at the earliest."

"How was he wounded?" I asked. "Tell me what the colonel did to him,

and be short."

"Yes, sir. The colonel told us Mr. Carr was to be kept at the ranch

over night; wasn't to leave it alive, sir, he said. Well, up to

yesterday it was all right and pleasant. Mr. Carr wasn't very well,

and the doses the colonel gave him didn't seem to make him any

better--quite the contrary. But yesterday afternoon he got rampageous,

would go, anyhow, ill or well! So he got up and dressed. We'd taken

all his weapons from him, sir, and when he came down dressed, and

asked for his horse, we told him he couldn't go. Well, he just said,

'Get out of the light, I tell you,' and began walking toward the hall

door. I don't mind saying we were rather put about, sir. We didn't

care to shoot him as he stood, and it's my belief we'd have let him

pass; but just as he was going out, in comes the colonel. 'Hallo!

what's this, Johnny?' says he. 'You've got some damned scheme on,'

said Mr. Carr. 'I believe you've been drugging me. Out of the way,

McGregor, or I'll brain you.' 'Where are you going?' says the colonel.

'To Whittingham, to the President's,' said he. 'Not to-day,' says the

colonel. 'Come, be reasonable, Johnny. You'll be all right to-morrow.'

'Colonel McGregor,' says he, 'I'm unarmed, and you've got a revolver.

You can shoot me if you like, but unless you do, I'm going out. You've

been playing some dodge on me, and, by God! you shall pay for it.'

With that he rushed straight at the colonel. The colonel, he stepped

on one side and let him pass. Then he went after him to the door,

waited till he was about fifteen yards off, then up with his revolver,

as cool as you like, and shot him as clean as a sixpence in the right

leg. Down came Mr. Carr; he lay there a minute or two cursing, and

then he fainted. 'Pick him up, dress his wound, and put him to bed,'

says the colonel. Well, sir, it was only a flesh wound, so we soon got

him comfortable, and there he lay all night."

"How did he get away to-day?"

"We were all out, sir--went over to Mr. Carr's place to borrow his

horses. The colonel took a message, sir. [Here the fellow grinned

again.] I don't know what it was. Well, when we'd got the horses, we

rode round outside the town, and came into the road between here and

the colonel's. Ten horses we got, and we went there to give the ten

men who were patrolling the road the fresh horses. We heard from them

that no one had come along. When we got home, he'd been gone two

hours!"

"How did he manage it?"

"A woman, sir," said my warrior, with supreme disgust. "Gave her a

kiss and ten dollars to undo the front door, and then he was off! He

daren't go to the stables to get a horse, so he was forced to limp

away on his game leg. A plucky one he is, too," he concluded.

"Poor old Johnny!" said I. "You didn't go after him?"

"No time, sir. Couldn't tire the horses. Besides, when he'd once got

home, he's got a dozen men there, and they'd have kept us all night.

Well, sir, I must be off. Any answer for the colonel? He'll be outside

the Golden House by eleven, sir, and Mr. Carr won't get in if he comes

after that."

"Tell him to rely on me," I answered. But for all that I didn't mean

to shoot Johnny on sight. So, much perturbed in spirit, I set off to

the barracks, wondering when Johnny would get to Whittingham, and

whether he would fall into the colonel's hands outside the Golden

House. It struck me as unpleasantly probable that he might come

and spoil the harmony of my evening; if he came there first, the

conspiracy would probably lose my aid at an early moment! What would

happen to me I didn't know. But, as I took off my coat in the lobby,

I bent down as if to tie a shoestring, and had one more look at my

revolver.

A man of mark · 第 8 / 15 章