Book: The Castle Of The Shadows

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"To my sorrow. I thought he was my friend. He was a traitor. I cared for
his sister. She loved and would have married me; but because I knew too
much about him and his evil ways, he did not want me in the family. He
told the girl and her parents lies. They believed them and sent me away.
He borrowed huge sums of money of me, and never paid--never meant to pay.
Always he was my secret enemy, yet when the world knew he was a murderer
I strained every nerve to save his life, for his sister's sake. I did
save it. But for every one concerned it was better that he should be
removed where he could no longer strike at society, and I could scarcely
regret his fate. Four years passed; I loved again, this time a beautiful
American girl, the most perfect creature I have ever seen, and a great
heiress. Madeleine Dalahaide had learned to detest me. She prejudiced
this girl against me, and, not satisfied with that, excited her romantic
nature to sympathy for the murderer, as a victim of injustice. The _Bella
Cuba_ is this girl's yacht--Miss Beverly's. She bought it in the hope of
rescuing Maxime Dalahaide, and if he can escape, there is little doubt
that she will put her hand in his, red though it is with a detestable
crime. She must be saved from so ghastly a fate. But if she learns that
she owes the failure of her plans to me, she will hate me to the death,
and I shall lose all hope of her; whereas, if my agency in this affair
could be hidden from her knowledge, the chances are that, if I could keep
my head, I might win back her heart, after it is healed from its first
disappointment. Help me to accomplish this, De Letz, for the sake of old
times, and there's nothing you can ask of me that I will not do. Italian
though I am, you know that my French cousins have powerful political
influence. They shall use it to the utmost for you, and get you what post
you please. I promise it--and I never break a promise to a friend."

"You fire me with your own enthusiasm!" cried De Letz. "We shall work the
thing between us. But if you, and you alone, can identify this man, how
will your part in the business be kept dark?"

"I will tell you how. I have brought several photographs of him, which I
have always kept within reach. These I will give to you, and you can use
them. If possible, I should, however, like to appear, not in the
character of an enemy, but that of a friend. You may think this a low way
of playing the game; but, you know, 'all is fair in love and war.' I want
Miss Beverly to think I am here at this time by chance; that I have tried
to soften your heart toward Dalahaide, and that I come with you, not as
your ally against her, but to offer her and her cause what help I can. Of
course, I shall fail in that effort, and you will win; but the little
comedy will have brought me the girl's gratitude, which is worth all the
world at this ticklish stage of the game. Will you aid me to play the
part on these lines?"

De Letz laughed. "So, I am to be the villain of the piece? Well, I do not
mind. We will stage the play realistically, and I----"

"And you will never regret your role in it," returned Loria.

* * * * *

Before the _Bella Cuba_ left Mentone all probable contingencies of the
mission had been foreseen, and as far as possible provided for, by Roger
Broom, George Trent, and Virginia Beverly, in council. They had talked
over what must be done in case of failure or success, and the only event
which Virginia had not felt able to discuss had been the death of one or
more of the three men concerned in the rescue. They knew that, if the
_Bella Cuba_ should be lucky enough to get away from New Caledonia with
Max Dalahaide on board, the news of the convict's escape would certainly
reach the next port at which they must touch, before they could arrive
there. Virginia's hope had been, after meeting the Countess de Mattos,
that the woman's confession would exculpate Maxime, and that the peace of
his future would be secured by the great _coup_ of "kidnapping" her. But
now this glimpse of brightness seemed likely to prove a mirage. Virginia
was as sure as ever that Manuela de Mattos was Liane Devereux; even Roger
Broom's contrary opinion had been somewhat shaken by the woman's
horrified shriek at sight of Max Dalahaide's white face and tragic eyes
in the moonlight. But the Countess had hardened once more into marble
self-control, and Maxime, after an hour or two on board the yacht, had
fallen into a state of fever and delirium. For the time being he could do
nothing to assist in proving her identity; indeed, even if he had kept
his senses, he might not have been able to swear that she was Liane
Devereux, so many were the differences of personality. Months might have
to pass before the truth of the strange conjecture could be proved--if it
could ever be proved--while the Countess de Mattos remained entrenched in
her strong position as a much injured and innocent lady.

They could not count upon her, and were forced to rely wholly upon the
plan formed before the beautiful Manuela had entered into their
calculations. On reaching Samoa it was to be, as George Trent expressed
it, a "game of bluff." One hope of saving Max lay in the fact that no
photograph of him could have arrived from New Caledonia; there were a
hundred chances to one that there would be no one at Samoa who had ever
seen him; he could not, therefore, be positively identified, and as the
_Bella Cuba_, owned by an American girl, flew the stars and stripes, it
was not likely that the authorities would care to invite trouble by
attempting to detain a yacht sailing under American colours. It was well
known to the initiated also, that successful "evasions" from the French
penal settlements were hushed up with nervous caution whenever possible
and that the news of even an attempted escape was seldom printed in
French papers. This was another advantage for the guilty _Bella Cuba_. It
might be considered better to let one convict go free, than precipitate
an international complication, a world-wide sensation, especially as
there was no one with a personal interest to serve in recovering this
particular prisoner.

They steamed boldly on toward Samoa. The morning that the island was
sighted, Dr. Grayle had pronounced Max Dalahaide better. The delirium had
passed. He was quiet, though still very weak.

"I suppose he wouldn't be able to confront that wicked woman and accuse
her to her face?" asked Virginia of the little brown man.

Dr. Grayle shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "Our motto must be
forward, but not too fast. He isn't fit yet for any strong excitement,
since we don't want to risk a relapse now that he's getting on so well. I
was rather afraid the sight of all those souvenirs of the past in his
cabin would upset him when he should be in a state of mind to recognize
them, but the effect has apparently been precisely opposite. At first,
before he entirely realized things, and remembered where he was and how
he had got there, he seemed to think that he was at home, and was
continually talking to his mother or sister, or calling for his father,
sometimes in English, sometimes in French. Now he knows all, and when he
heard how it was your thought and his sister's to have so many familiar
objects surrounding him, to give an atmosphere of home to the cabin
prepared in case of a rescue, the tears came to his eyes, and he turned
away his head on the pillow to hide them from me. He believes that, even
in his unconsciousness, these things must have made an impression upon
his mind, and by their soothing influence drawn his thought toward home,
otherwise he must have raved about the prison in his delirium, instead of
returning to old, happy days. So you see, Miss Beverly, he has one more
reason to thank you, this poor fellow who has suffered so much, and kept
so brave and strong through all."

Virginia had been pale of late, but she flushed at these words. "You
believe him innocent, Dr. Grayle!" she exclaimed. "You wouldn't speak of
him like that unless it were so."

"No one could have been with him as I have these past few days, and not
believe him innocent," said the little doctor in his quiet voice. "Sir
Roger thinks as I do, too, now. You will be glad to hear that."

"I am glad," Virginia answered. But Roger was not glad. Above all things
he was just--sometimes in spite of himself. He had helped to nurse Max
Dalahaide; he had changed his opinion of him, and felt bound to say so;
yet he was not glad to change. He would have preferred to go on believing
Dalahaide a guilty man.

Virginia had not the key to Roger's heart, however, and she did not know
that he had the key to hers--to one hidden place there into which she had
hardly dared to look. She would have kept it always locked, even from
herself, if she could; but because she knew that there was something
there to hide, she invited Roger to go with her when Max sent word
through Dr. Grayle, begging to see his hostess. She did not want Roger to
be present when she talked with Maxime Dalahaide for the first time since
his escape. She would have liked to be alone with him, if that had been
possible; but for the very reason that the wish was so strong in her
heart, she denied it. Her cousin Roger had risked his life to please her,
and she had a promise to keep. She meant to keep it; and he had a right
to be by her side when she went to the man whom he had so nobly helped to
save.

But Roger refused. "No, dear," he said. "Soon we shall be in the harbour
at Samoa. There is plenty to do. I want to be on hand with George to do
it. Let Dr. Grayle take you to Maxime. He will know how long and how
much it is best for him to talk."

"We will be in harbour so soon?" exclaimed Virginia. "The Countess! She
will try to get away, you know."

"She'll try in vain," responded Roger. "We won't give her a boat."

"But there'll be ships and boats in the harbour. She may call for help,
and make us trouble."

"I'll see to her," said Roger. "I don't think we shall get much good out
of detaining her; but we've gone so far now, we may as well go a little
further."

They were talking in the saloon, out of which the cabins opened, but they
had spoken in low voices, guarding against being overheard. Nor could
they have been overheard, unless by some one making a special effort to
listen. Such an effort the Countess de Mattos was making. She had kept to
her cabin since the eventful night of the escape from New Caledonia, and
had demanded her meals and other attentions with the air of an insulted
queen claiming her just rights. She always bent herself eagerly to
listen when she heard the murmur of voices in the saloon, especially if
they seemed to be suppressed. She did not now catch every word, but she
heard "the harbour of Samoa"; "soon in"; "the Countess--try to get away";
"call for help--make us trouble"; "I'll see to her"; and she pressed her
lips together in fierce anger, her delicate nostrils quivering.

From her porthole she had not seen the land in sight, and had had no
means of knowing that the time for her to act was so near at hand. Since
the night of her terrible shock, she had revolved many plans in her mind,
but the only one upon which she had definitely decided was to leave the
_Bella Cuba_ at all costs, and as soon as possible. Her nerves were not
in a state to stand an indefinite strain, and she realized that she could
not bear much more. Even with the chlorodyne and absinthe she hardly
slept now, and she scarcely cared to project her thoughts beyond the time
of escape from the hateful yacht.

Now, she had one thing for which to thank Virginia Beverly; the
suggestion that she should call for help when the _Bella Cuba_ had
steamed into the harbour of Samoa. At once her excitable brain seized the
picturesqueness of a dramatic situation. She saw herself, effectively
dressed, rushing to the rail and hailing any passing ship which might be
nearest. Sir Roger Broom, or her late friend George Trent, might try to
stop her, but their violence would be seen from some other ship, and her
cause against them would be strengthened.

Surely her appeals would not be ignored; men, of whatever class or
country, were never blind to the distress of a woman as beautiful as she.
Yes, she would be rescued. The story that she would tell must rouse
indignation against Virginia Beverly and her companions. She herself had
nothing to fear--nothing. And the man on whose advice she had spent years
of exile would admire her more than ever, when he knew what she had
endured, without breaking down. The end of her probation had come. The
reason for delay had disappeared now, after all these years. They would
marry, he and she, and he would help her to forget the past.

Manuela's reflections did not cause her to waste time. They were a mere
accompaniment to her rapid action. Virginia had said they would soon be
in the harbour. She must prepare herself to leave the yacht, and get
ready to carry with her such things as were indispensable. Hurriedly she
threw off the _robe de chambre_ of silk and lace which she had been
wearing, and put on a charming dress, suitable for travelling. The long
outstanding account for this _confection_ had been paid with Virginia
Beverly's money; but that was a detail.

When she was ready to go up on deck--which she would do as soon as the
yacht dropped anchor--she took her jewels from the large leather box
where they were kept, and wrapping everything in a soft silk scarf, she
stuffed the thick parcel into a handbag, which already held several
mysterious-looking bottles with the labels carefully taken off. This bag
was always locked, except when the Countess was at her toilet; then, for
a brief time, the bottles came out, and a few tiny boxes and brushes;
but she never forgot to put them back into the bag again, turn the key,
and slip the latter on to the gold key-ring which she wore on her
chatelaine.

The bag packed with jewels, as well as its legitimate contents, Manuela
turned her attention to the larger luggage. This she could not carry away
with her, if she were gallantly rescued from her sea-prison by a _coup
d'etat_; but it would be as well to have the things which she most valued
ready to go later. She had filled her cabin-box, and was in the act of
locking it, when the yacht's screw ceased to throb. The _Bella Cuba_ had
stopped. Orders were being shouted up above; and then came a grinding
sound as the anchor was slowly dropped. The Countess de Mattos knew that
they must be in the harbour of Samoa. She flung open the door of her
cabin and stepped out into the saloon. There sat George Trent, who, as
she appeared, looked up from a book which he was reading, or seemed to
read.

"Good morning, Countess," he said coolly, rising and flinging away his
book. "I'm glad you're better, but I don't think, now I see you in the
light, that you look well enough to be out."

"I was never ill," she answered haughtily--for Virginia Beverly's brother
could only be an enemy.

"It's mighty brave of you to try and keep up like this," said George,
"but that was a bad attack of yours the other night. I can see you're not
fit yet. You'd better go back and lie down while we coal. The blacks will
be flying around, you know, and you'll get them in your lungs."

"Let me pass," exclaimed the Countess, making a rush to push by him and
reach the companionway.

"I'd do a good deal for you, Countess, but I can't do that," retorted
George. "It's against the doctor's orders."

"How dare you!" she panted. "Oh, you shall suffer for this!"

"All I'm worried about now is that _you_ don't suffer. You really mustn't
excite yourself. It's not good, you know. It's as much as my place is
worth to let you upstairs. I expect it would be the best thing for your
health to go and lie down, but if you won't do that, why, I'll try and
entertain you here as well as I can."

The beautiful woman looked the tall young man full in the eyes, hers
dilated and burning with the impotent fury in her soul. She was wise
enough to see that he was not to be beguiled. If he, like other men, had
his price, nothing that she could offer would pay it. He did not mean to
let her go up on deck, and it would be as useless as undignified to
attempt carrying out her will with a high hand. If there were any hope,
it was in stratagem. Without breaking another lance against the
impenetrable armour of his obstinacy, she turned her back upon him, swept
into her cabin, and shut the door. Having done so--her little bag still
grasped in her hand--she flew to the porthole and peered out. If a boat
had been passing, or a ship at anchor visible near by, she would have
screamed for help; but nothing promising was to be seen for the moment.

Meanwhile, Virginia had spent the most heavenly half-hour of her life.
She had been so divinely happy that she had forgotten the danger ahead.
To sit beside Max Dalahaide, to meet his eyes, tragic no longer, but
bright with passionate gratitude; to know that he was out of danger, that
he would live, and owe his life to her and hers; to hear the thanks,
spoken stammeringly, but straight from his heart, filled her with an
ecstasy such as she had never known. It was akin to pain, and yet it was
worth dying for, just to have felt it once.

She was with him still when the yacht dropped anchor.

"This is Samoa?" he said, half rising on his elbow, and a quick flush
springing to his thin cheeks.

"Yes," Virginia answered. "But there is no danger. My cousin says they
will dare nothing. We shall have coaled in a couple of hours, and
then----"

At this moment a sound of voices came through the open porthole, which
was on the side of the yacht opposite to Manuela's.

Some one in a boat was calling to some one on the deck of the _Bella
Cuba_; and evidently the boat was near.

Virginia's sentence broke off. She forgot what she had been saying, and
sprang to her feet, her heart in her throat. It was the Marchese Loria's
voice that she had heard.

What could his presence here signify? Did it mean unexpected disaster?
Involuntarily her frightened glance went to Maxime's face. Their eyes
met. She saw in his that he, too, had recognized those once familiar
tones.

"I will go on deck," she said brokenly, trying to control her voice.
"I--when I can I will come back again. And--of course, Dr. Grayle, you
will stay here."

"You may trust me," said the little brown man, with meaning in his
words.




CHAPTER XIII

THE GAME OF BLUFF


Roger Broom had seen the boat coming from afar. Already the lighters were
alongside, and the process of coaling was about to begin. This would be
got through as soon as possible, and necessary provisions bought from the
boats plying from the town with fresh milk, butter, eggs, meat, fowls,
and green vegetables. But Roger knew well that, expedite their business
as they might, the _Bella Cuba_ would not steam out of the harbour
without a challenge from the law. The only shock of surprise he
experienced at sight of the official-looking little craft, making
straight for the yacht, was in recognizing the Marchese Loria, the last
man he had expected to see.

As he stood on deck beside the quartermaster near the rail, Loria hailed
him by name, while the boat came alongside, and the four rowers shipped
their dripping oars.

"Ah, Sir Roger, you are surprised to see me!" the Marchese cried. "But,
by our old friendship, I hope you will let me come on board. These
gentlemen in the boat with me are the United States Consul, Mr. Chandler;
the French Consul, Monsieur de Letz; and Herr Dr. Sauber, the medical
officer for the health of the port."

"Speaking for Miss Beverly as well as myself, we shall be very pleased to
see you," said Roger. "Herr Dr. Sauber's business with us it is easy to
guess, and he is prompt in carrying it out. Mr. Chandler and Monsieur de
Letz are, no doubt, your friends, Marchese, who have come with you to pay
us a friendly visit. We shall be delighted to entertain them on board as
well as we can during the dreary process of coaling."

"I can't let you receive us on false pretenses, sir," replied the United
States Consul. "My business and that of Monsieur de Letz is not wholly
friendly, unfortunately, although we are both particularly anxious it
should be carried out in a friendly spirit. It is in this hope that
certain formalities have been waived. It is, as you know, your duty to
receive Dr. Sauber on board, and as you fly the American colours it is
your duty to receive me as the representative of the authority of the
United States."

"Charmed, I'm sure, to see you in any capacity," said Roger, his tone
unchanged. "Though what the authority of the United States should have to
do in procuring us the pleasure, I----"

"The authority of the United States supports France, as it is bound to
do, in accordance with the extradition treaty, in demanding that you give
up the fugitive convict, 1280, who came on board your yacht at New
Caledonia."

"We have no convict with us," retorted Roger.

"In that case you cannot object to search being made," said Monsieur de
Letz.

"We do most certainly object to being insulted," Roger replied. "Mr.
Chandler, the owner of this yacht is an American lady, Miss Beverly. I
call upon you as her Consul to protect her interests, not to sacrifice
them."

"Sir Roger," Loria broke in, before Chandler could answer, "I beg once
more that you will let me come on board with the doctor as a friend. I
will explain why, when we can talk together. Though I am with these
gentlemen, their errand is not mine."

"The doctor I feel bound to receive," said Roger. "But Miss Beverly, it
seems to me, has as much right to choose who her guests shall be on board
her own yacht as in her own house. If she were here to speak for
herself----"

"She is here to speak for herself," said Virginia, at his shoulder.
"Marchese Loria, I invite you to come on board. I invite also the United
States Consul, whose protection I claim. But I do not choose to have
other guests."

"The health officer has a right to board us, you know, Virginia," said
Roger in a loud tone; then close to her ear: "Hang it all! we are more or
less at their mercy. We can't get away without coaling, and they know it.
Our poor little cannon are of no use to us here. We can't afford to defy
any of the powers interested; they've got too many gunboats in the
harbour. Bluff is our game, and we've got to play it for all it's worth.
But you're perfectly right about the Consul. Only, if you don't want
Loria, you needn't----"

"I do want him," Virginia hastily whispered--"for a special reason. And I
want to talk to him alone. But for heaven's sake keep the Frenchman off!
Who knows what _coup_ he may be planning?"

As if in answer, though he could not possibly have heard, De Letz
announced from the boat that he did not wish to insist upon boarding the
yacht. He would trust his business in Mr. Chandler's hands, since the
lady preferred it. This easy-going courtesy alarmed Virginia. She felt
instinctively that the enemy had a strong trump with which to confound
her unexpectedly. Still, if she did not quite see the enemy's game, at
least they could not see hers.

The gangway was let down. Loria, Chandler, and the medical officer of the
port came on board. Then the gangway was drawn up, though the French
Consul and the four oarsmen sat placidly in the boat.

The purser, who was busy receiving stores, was sent for, to be
interviewed by the doctor. Roger, standing by, gave half his attention to
the conversation between these two, and half to the United States Consul,
who plunged at once into the subject of the escaped convict.

Monsieur de Letz had informed him, he announced, that if the fugitive
were not given up to justice by the American yacht, it would be regarded
by France as a direct and deliberate affront. Meanwhile, the medical
officer bombarded the unfortunate purser with questions. What ports had
been visited? Where had the passengers been taken on? None since
Alexandria? Humph! Alexandria was considered an infected port at present.
Any one ill on board? No? Where, then, were the remaining members of the
party? In their cabins? The doctor must ask, as a mere matter of form, to
see them.

Roger Broom's lips were suddenly compressed. So this was the game. He saw
it all now. The doctor was in the plot. He meant to detain the yacht in
quarantine. If he succeeded in doing this, Maxime Dalahaide was lost.
Everything else they had thought of, but not this.

"May I speak with you alone, Miss Beverly?" Loria had begun to plead, the
instant he had set foot on deck. "Believe me, it is partly for your own
sake, partly for the sake of others whose welfare is dear to you, that I
ask it."

It was the thing for which Virginia had been wishing. "Come down with me
into the saloon," she said.

"Could we not speak here, at a little distance from the others?" urged
Loria, who knew that the doctor intended to visit the cabins.

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