Maraquita was lying in her silken hammock, swinging under the orange
trees, and thinking over the events of the last few days. They had
been important ones for her. The unexpected death of the Doctor had
frightened her beyond measure, and more than ever did she feel that
Henri de Courcelles owed it to her to make every exertion in his power
to remove the proof of her shame from San Diego. Until that was done,
she should have no rest. But she was very undecided about Sir Russell
Johnstone. She didn’t wish to marry him--all her heart (such as it
was) was set on Henri de Courcelles--but yet she wanted to be the wife
of the Governor of San Diego, and certain hints from her mother had
shown her it would be the best, and perhaps the only way, to get out
of the scrape she was in. And if she refused Sir Russell Johnstone, it
would be all the same; her parents would never consent to her marrying
Monsieur de Courcelles.
Maraquita tossed to and fro as she thought over these things, and
made the hammock swing as far as its cords would admit, till the
orange blossoms and their glossy leaves swept across her face, and old
Jessica, who was watching from below as usual, called out to her young
mistress to take care. Quita was trying to argue the matter out with
herself (as silly people will) so as to make the pieces of the puzzle
fit each other and please everybody all round, being too blind or too
selfish, meanwhile, to see that the only person she was really bent on
pleasing was herself. She believed that in a very few days she would be
called upon to decide the matter, for her mother had received a letter
from the Governor to ask if her daughter had returned to the White
House, but she was hardly prepared, as she lay there that morning, to
see Sir Russell’s barouche, with its pair of English horses, and its
outriders, dash up the drive, and stop before the portals of her home.
She flushed so rosy at the sight, that Jessica observed her emotion.
‘Dat only de Governor, missy, come to see Massa Courtney. De
Governor’s a fine gennelman, isn’t he, missy? Got beautiful coat and
trousers and waistcoat on, and fine whiskers, and nice red face. Dat
Government House a beautiful place, too, and dat carriage lovely. I’d
like to see my missy in a carriage like dat, wid fine English horses,
and coachman, and all.’
‘What nonsense you are talking, Jessica,’ said Quita querulously, as
she turned her head away. ‘Papa’s carriage is quite good enough for me,
and I don’t want any other.’
‘Ah, but some day my missy marry fine gennelman, and have everyting
dat’s nice and beautiful. Not one of dese island fellers--overseers and
such like,’ continued the negress contemptuously, ‘with half de blood
black in their veins, but a real English gennelman, with plenty money,
and all white blood.’
Maraquita reddened, and yawned, and turned pettishly away. She knew
well enough to whom old Jessica was alluding, and she resented the hint
as an impertinence.
Meanwhile Sir Russell Johnstone had rushed into the presence of Mr and
Mrs Courtney.
‘Fancy, my dear sir,’ he was exclaiming, ‘that yesterday the
police actually discovered a train of gunpowder laid right under
the banqueting-room of Government House! Had it not been for their
vigilance, at the next dinner-party I gave, we might all have been
blown up--I, you, your wife, even your lovely daughter. It is too
horrible a catastrophe to contemplate!’
‘Horrible indeed!’ echoed his host. ‘But are you sure that all is now
safe? Has a thorough search been made?’
‘They tell me so, and that I need have no further alarm. But it has
shaken my nerves, I can tell you that. And the delinquents are not
caught either, though the native police are on the alert.’
‘How is that?’
‘They have escaped to the Alligator Swamp; though why they can’t pursue
them there, beats me altogether.’
‘Ah, my dear Sir Russell,’ cried Mr Courtney, ‘you don’t know what the
Alligator Swamp is like, or you would not be surprised. Even a negro
will not venture to enter it, unless he is in fear of his life. It is
a regular morass of green slime. It is impossible to tell at each step
you take whether you will sink to the bottom of it or not; and it is
infested with alligators or caymen of the largest and most ferocious
breed. No living creatures but the caymen could breathe such an
atmosphere; for the green swamp raises poisonous fungi, the vapours
alone of which are almost certain death. These wretches who have
plotted against your life cannot possibly escape punishment. If they
do not fall into the hands of the police, they will certainly die, the
victims of the pestilential atmosphere of the Alligator Swamp.’
‘I am glad to hear it,’ replied the Governor, who was a short, stout
man of ordinary appearance, and with rather a round and rosy face, ‘for
I don’t consider my appointment worth the risk of being blown up. The
island seems to me to be in a regular state of rebellion, and I don’t
like it. If any more plots against my safety are discovered, I shall
resign, and return to England. Her Majesty would be the last person to
wish me to remain if there is the slightest fear of danger.’
‘Oh, there must not be--there _shall_ not be!’ exclaimed Mrs Courtney
pathetically, as the pictures of a retreating Governor and a lost
son-in-law floated before her mental vision. ‘These wretches must be
brought to judgment, and executed. I would have them all hanged, if I
were you, Sir Russell. The idea of their attempting such an outrage!
Hanging would be too good for them.’
‘I am not sure if I _can_ hang them; but, if so, you may be sure I
will,’ rejoined the Governor. ‘Why, it makes a man quite nervous of
going to his bed. It’s absurd--ridiculous--an insult to the British
Government!’
‘It must be stamped out at any cost,’ said Mr Courtney; ‘and until
it is--until things are more settled--if you would like to vacate
Government House for a little while, and would accept the hospitality
of Beauregard, Sir Russell, why, all I can say is, that everything I
possess (humble as it may be) is at your service.’
‘But wouldn’t they say I had run away?’ replied the Governor. ‘I should
like it above all things, but the papers have been rather spiteful
about me of late, and I am afraid they would declare I had shown the
white feather.’
‘But you must think of your own safety--_that_ is the first
consideration, surely!’ exclaimed Mrs Courtney. ‘And you must think of
others too, Sir Russell,--of those who care for you. My poor Maraquita
will be in a fever of anxiety as soon as she hears this news.’
She had begun to be afraid that his own peril had somewhat displaced
Maraquita from the Governor’s thoughts, and the idea that he might
even be frightened out of San Diego without fulfilling his promise,
filled her with alarm. She determined that if possible the engagement
should be ratified at once, and then, if anything further happened to
frighten Sir Russell back to England, he would be compelled to take his
wife with him. Her _ruse_ had the desired effect, and the mention of
her daughter turned the Governor’s thoughts in another direction.
‘Ah, the beautiful Miss Courtney. Pray don’t think that I have
forgotten her, in the exercise of my functions. To quell this native
rebellion is the first duty I owe to my Queen and country, but my heart
has been at the White House, my dear madam, all the time. How is your
sweet daughter? Have you told her of my proposal? Is it possible I may
have the great pleasure of seeing her?’
Mrs Courtney was not quite sure what to answer. She glanced at her
husband, but he was standing with his back to her, and would make no
sign, so she was thrown upon her own resources. Yet she was a woman,
and when it is a matter of _finesse_, when do a woman’s resources fail?
‘She is better, dear Sir Russell--much better, almost well, in fact,
but still weak, and unequal to any exertion. I _did_ try to approach
the subject of your most flattering proposal to her on her return home,
but her agitation became so great, I was forced to relinquish it. You
must not condemn her weakness. The prospect is a very dazzling one to a
simple and innocent girl like our Maraquita.’
‘Do you mean to tell me, then, that she is favourably disposed towards
me?’ inquired the Governor excitedly.
It is true that he was a Governor, and would perhaps have been somewhat
surprised at any woman in San Diego refusing his suit. But at the
same time he was fifty years of age, stout, bald, and past the age of
romance, and it was enough to make any such man excited, to hear that
a pure and lovely girl of eighteen was ready and eager to fly into his
arms. He was quite aware of the value of the position he had to offer
to the planter’s daughter, but he was conceited enough to be gulled
into the belief that she could actually fall in love with him, more
than with the advantages which a marriage with him would entail. His
rosy face became rubicund with expectant pleasure, and he already
saw himself with the most beautiful woman in San Diego folded in his
embrace.
‘_Favourably disposed!_’ echoed Mrs Courtney. ‘My dear Sir Russell,
that is not the word! Maraquita is overpowered by the preference you
have shown towards her, only too shy to offer you her timid girlish
love in return. She is so afraid she can give you nothing worth the
having in exchange for your noble proposal to make her your wife.’
‘If she will give me _herself_, it is all I ask,’ returned the
Governor. ‘And now, tell me, may I see her, and plead my cause in
person?’
‘Oh, Sir Russell, one moment!’ cried Mrs Courtney, hurriedly. ‘Let Mr
Courtney offer you some refreshment, whilst I prepare our sweet girl
for your visit. You do not know how shy and sensitive she is. The very
mention of marriage makes her blush. Let me go to my child, and when
she is calm enough to receive you, I will return and tell you so.’
‘As you please, my dear madam, but don’t try my patience too far. Mr
Courtney and I will have a cigar together, and talk over our plans
for the future, whilst you are gone.’ And with a courtly bow to his
hostess, Sir Russell let her leave the room.
Mrs Courtney hastened at once to Maraquita’s side. _Hastened_ is
not exactly the word for the ungraceful waddle which she used when
she wished to expedite her footsteps, but she walked as fast as her
unwieldy form would permit her, to the shady spot where Quita’s hammock
swung under the orange trees, and having dismissed Jessica to the
house, she entered at once upon her subject.
‘Quita, my darling, Sir Russell Johnstone has come for your answer to
his proposal.’
She was clever in her own way, this half-educated, half-bred Spanish
woman. She knew that if she gave Quita time to reflect, she would
probably think of a way out of the dilemma in which she found herself,
or consult her lover, and be persuaded perhaps to elope with him, and
ruin her prospects for ever. She had read enough of her daughter’s mind
on the first day she returned home, to see that all her inclinations
were opposed to marrying Sir Russell Johnstone, and if she were
persuaded to consent to it, it must be through _finesse_, or an appeal
to her ambition. What Mrs Courtney wanted now, was to hurry Maraquita
into accepting the Governor’s proposal, and make her so far commit
herself that she could not back out of it afterwards. And she had
good materials to work upon, for Maraquita was a youthful copy of her
mother, as vain, and selfish, and indolent, and heartless, and as fond
of luxuries and the good things of this life. But she was considerably
startled at hearing she had to make up her mind so soon, and her large
dark eyes--so like those of a deer--opened wide with consternation and
alarm.
‘Oh, mother! Surely I need not give him an answer to-day. It is so very
soon. I have had no time to think about it.’
‘_No time to think about it!_’ echoed Mrs Courtney; ‘why, the case
is plain enough. What thinking does it require? Sir Russell offers
to make you Lady Johnstone, and the mistress of Government House. He
has an income of many thousands a year, and your father will settle a
handsome dowry on you if you marry him. You will be the richest woman,
and the woman of highest rank, in San Diego, and every soul in the
island will exclaim at your good fortune. What more, in the name of
Heaven, do you want, Maraquita?’
‘I am so afraid I sha’n’t love him,’ sighed the girl, with a last
remnant of womanly feeling.
‘Very well,’ exclaimed Mrs Courtney, turning her back upon her
daughter, and professing to be about to leave her, ‘I will go and tell
Sir Russell, and at once! He is waiting your answer, and I can’t keep
a Governor on tenterhooks for hours. If you refuse him, he says he is
going back to England by the next steamer, and shall never return
here, as he is sick of San Diego, and will only stay on condition you
become his wife. But as you won’t try to love him, it is of no use.’
‘Stay, mother, stay!’ cried Quita hurriedly; ‘don’t go just yet. Wait
one moment, and speak to me. Is it _really_ true that Sir Russell will
leave San Diego if I don’t marry him?’
‘Didn’t I say so, Maraquita. He declares that nothing shall make him
stay; and if he returns, it will be with a Lady Johnstone to preside
over Government House for him. He will marry an English girl, and
you will have the mortification of seeing some woman, with half your
beauty, enjoying all the advantages you have been fool enough to
refuse. Quita, I have no patience with you.’
‘But, mamma--mamma, I haven’t refused him. I don’t _mean_ to refuse
him! If (as you say) I must make up my mind at once, I _have_ made it
up! I accept Sir Russell’s proposal, and you can go and tell him so.’
‘Oh, my darling girl!’ exclaimed Mrs Courtney effusively, ‘I was sure
you would see this grand prospect in its proper light at last. How
proud and delighted your father will be to hear your decision. But you
must give Sir Russell his answer in person, my love. You must let me
bring him here, and tell him yourself that you will be his wife.’
‘But I am not fit to see any one. I am so untidy!’ cried Quita, jumping
out of her hammock, and standing before her mother.
She was clothed in a long loose robe, of saffron colour, with hanging
sleeves, that showed her white arms, and a belt that spanned her
slender waist. Her dusky hair lay in a rippling mass upon her
shoulders, and her fair face was flushed with excitement, and perhaps
regret. She had never looked more lovely in her life, and Mrs Courtney
regarded her with pardonable pride and admiration.
‘You are charming, my dear! I will not have you wait to make a single
alteration in your dress; and Sir Russell is so impatient, that he
will readily pardon the negligence of your morning attire. He knows
you have been ill, and are disinclined for much exertion. Sit down in
this chair, Quita, and I will bring him to you in another minute. Oh,
my dear child,’ concluded Mrs Courtney, with a close embrace, ‘how
thankful I am that all is about to end so happily for you! You have
half killed me by your thoughtlessness and imprudence.’
There were genuine tears in her mother’s eyes as she pronounced the
words, and Quita felt for the first time, perhaps, what a terrible risk
she had run.
‘Never mind, mamma!’ she whispered, ‘it is over now, and _he_--he has
promised me that I shall never hear anything more about it. Let us try
and forget it ever occurred.’
‘Yes, my dearest girl, that is just what you must do. Blot out the
past, like a hideous dream. It has been a terrible experience for you,
and so long as you remained unmarried, I should always have trembled
for your safety. But now--as the wife of the Governor, my dear child’s
future is assured, and we will never mention the hateful subject
again--not even to each other.’
‘No! and, mamma, you told me the other day that (excepting for certain
reasons) you would have had some changes made on the plantation.
Couldn’t you manage to have those changes made now. Not too suddenly,
you know, so as to excite suspicion, but as if they were brought
about in the natural course of events. Can’t you persuade papa,’ said
Maraquita, hiding her face in her mother’s bosom, ‘to engage a--a--new
overseer? It would be better for all of us.’
‘You are quite right, my darling,’ whispered Mrs Courtney back again,
‘and I am glad you have so much sense. Trust me, dear, that you shall
not be annoyed in this matter. As soon as your marriage is settled, I
will take you up on the hill range for change of air, and before you
return we will have done what you suggest. I have a dozen good reasons
to give your father for engaging some one else in that person’s place.’
‘Don’t be harsh with him,’ faltered Maraquita; ‘remember that--that--’
But this was a dangerous topic, on which Mrs Courtney did not choose to
dilate.
‘I can remember nothing now, my dear, except that Sir Russell is
waiting for your answer, and that I must go and fetch him to you.
Now, be a woman, Maraquita! Think of all you owe to yourself, and the
brilliant future that lies before you! I really believe I should go out
of my mind with grief if anything happened to prevent it.’
Mrs Courtney walked back to the house as quickly as she was able, and
Maraquita lay in the bamboo chair, with her eyes closed, and the unshed
tears trembling like dewdrops on her long dark lashes. She had not to
wait long! In another minute her mother had returned, in company with
the Governor, and Quita had to disperse the vision of her handsome
Spanish lover, with his graceful form and romantic bearing, and open
her eyes upon a stout and pursy little Englishman, with a bald head and
uninteresting features, and legs too short for his body.
But there was no mistaking the expression of his beaming face, and the
girl saw at a glance that the matter had been concluded for her, and
she was already in his eyes the future Lady Johnstone.
‘My dear Miss Courtney--may I not say my dear Maraquita?’ he commenced,
‘I cannot tell you how flattered I feel by your kind acceptance of my
offer, nor how much I hope it will be the forerunner of our life-long
happiness.’
He raised the hand she extended, to his lips as he spoke, and she felt
compelled to reply, in a faltering voice,--
‘I hope it will--’
‘I won’t hear of any doubts about it,’ exclaimed Mrs Courtney
triumphantly. ‘I feel _sure_, Sir Russell, that my sweet child’s
happiness is safe in your hands; and as for yours--why, if the
affection and duty of a simple and innocent girl can secure it, it
will be as safe as her own. You must not forget, my dear sir, that you
have chosen to honour a very young girl--almost a child--with your
preference, and will, I know, make allowance for any faults that may
arise from ignorance of the world and of society.’
‘I know that I have chosen the loveliest and sweetest girl in San
Diego!’ cried the Governor enthusiastically, ‘and that it will be the
aim of my life to surround her with every luxury and pleasure that
I can afford; and as for her faults, I shall never see any to make
allowance for.’
‘Oh, Sir Russell,’ replied Mrs Courtney, in the same strain, ‘you must
not spoil my child! I know myself that her chief fault is that which
will mend every day; still she is _very_ young--there is no denying
that--and will often need a little kindly counsel as to how she should
act in her high position.’
‘She will only need to be herself, and to act on her own impulses, to
make the most charming hostess that ever presided at the Government
House. But we have not yet spoken of when the marriage is to take
place, Mrs Courtney,--and I hope you will persuade Maraquita not to
keep me waiting too long.’
‘You are very impatient,’ she replied, smiling, ‘but you must not
forget that my dear child has been ill, and is still very weak and
fragile. Still, if you make a point of it, I am sure neither Mr
Courtney nor myself will stand in the way of a speedy wedding.’
‘But what will Miss Maraquita say?’ demanded the Governor, bending over
her.
‘My mother can decide for me,’ she murmured faintly. ‘I have never
disobeyed you yet, mamma, have I?’
‘Never! my dear, never! You have been the best and most dutiful of
daughters, and deferred to your parents’ wishes in all things--’
But here the remembrance of certain late events put a sudden stop to
Mrs Courtney’s eloquence, and she watched the crimson blood that rose
to Quita’s cheek, in alarm. The girl was still weak: it was dangerous
to provoke an emotion which she might find it impossible to quell.
‘But I think we have discussed this exciting topic sufficiently for
to-day,’ she continued. ‘Maraquita is easily upset, and I should
be sorry to see her thrown back again. Will you settle the knotty
question of the wedding-day with me, Sir Russell, after you have
finished talking to my daughter? I don’t fancy you will find there are
many difficulties in the way--but we must think first of Maraquita’s
strength, and how we can restore it for the important occasion.’
‘Certainly! that is the chief consideration,’ replied Sir Russell;
‘what do you propose to do about it?’
‘I was thinking of taking her up to the hill range for a week, to
escape these enervating land breezes. I think a little change would do
her more good than anything else.’
‘The very thing!’ exclaimed Sir Russell, ‘and you can have the use of
the Government Bungalow, and all that is in it. When will you start?
To-morrow? If so, I will send word at once to have everything in
readiness for your reception. Don’t trouble yourself about taking your
carriage and horses, mine will be there, and at your entire disposal.
And I trust that after the rest of a day or two, Maraquita will permit
me to join your party, and accompany her on her excursions in search
of health. I have an Arab pony that carries a lady to perfection, and,
with your leave, I will send it up for her use. What does my _fiancée_
say? Does my proposal meet with her approval?’
‘She would be a very ungrateful girl, and very hard to please, if it
did not,’ said her mother, answering for her; and then perceiving that
Quita’s self-command was almost at an end, and that she was on the
point of breaking down, she added playfully,--
‘And now I am going to be hard-hearted and carry you off, Sir Russell,
for my poor child is overcome with all this excitement, and unable to
bear any more at present. Please be good, and return with me to the
White House; and if you will call upon us again this evening, I have
no doubt she will be calmer, and better able to thank you for all your
kind offers on her behalf.’
The Governor rose at once (for he was a gentleman, although he was ugly
and ill-formed), and took his leave. As he did so, he stooped down and
kissed Maraquita on the cheek. It was not an out-of-the-way thing for
a newly-accepted lover to do, but the salute, quietly as it was given,
seemed to sting her. She did not resent it whilst her mother and Sir
Russell Johnstone were in sight, but as soon as the doors of the White
House had closed upon them, she hid her face in her hands, and burst
into a flood of tears.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]