CHAPTER XI.
DIVIDING THE SPOILS.
The habit of reading having penetrated, as we are told, to all classes
of the community, I am not without hope that some who peruse this
chronicle will be able, from personal experience, to understand
the feelings of a man when he first finds a reward offered for his
apprehension. It is true that our police are not in the habit of
imitating the President's naked brutality by expressly adding "Alive
or Dead," but I am informed that the law, in case of need, leaves
the alternative open to the servants of justice. I am not ashamed
to confess that my spirits were rather dashed by his Excellency's
Parthian shot, and I could see that the colonel himself was no less
perturbed. The escape of _Fleance_ seemed to _Macbeth_ to render his
whole position unsafe, and no one who knew General Whittingham will
doubt that he was a more dangerous opponent than _Fleance_. We both
felt, in fact, as soon as we saw the white sail of _The Songstress_
bearing our enemy out of our reach, that the revolution could not yet
be regarded as safely accomplished. But the uncertainty of our tenure
of power did not paralyze our energies; on the contrary, we determined
to make hay while the sun shone, and, if Aureataland was doomed to
succumb once more to tyranny, I, for one, was very clear that her
temporary emancipation might be turned to good account.
Accordingly, on arriving again at the Golden House, we lost no time in
instituting a thorough inquiry into the state of the public finances.
We ransacked the house from top to bottom and found nothing! Was it
possible that the President had carried off with him all the treasure
that had inspired our patriotic efforts? The thought was too horrible.
The drawers of his escritoire and the safe that stood in his library
revealed nothing to our eager eyes. A foraging party, dispatched to
the Ministry of Finance (where, by the way, they did not find Don
Antonio or his fair daughter), returned with the discouraging news
that nothing was visible but ledgers and bills (not negotiable
securities--the other sort). In deep dejection I threw myself into his
Excellency's chair and lit one of his praiseworthy cigars with the
doleful reflection that this pleasure seemed all I was likely to get
out of the business. The colonel stood moodily with his back to the
fireplace, looking at me as if I were responsible for the state of
things.
At this point in came the signorina. We greeted her gloomily, and she
was as startled as ourselves at the news of the President's escape;
at the same time I thought I detected an undercurrent of relief, not
unnatural if we recollect her personal relations with the deposed
ruler. When, however, we went on to break to her the nakedness of the
land, she stopped us at once.
"Oh, you stupid men! you haven't looked in the right place. I suppose
you expected to find it laid out for you on the dining-room table.
Come with me."
We followed her into the room where Carr lay. He was awake, and the
signorina went and asked him how he was. Then she continued:
"We shall have to disturb you for a few minutes, Mr. Carr. You don't
mind, do you?"
"Must I get out of bed?" asked Johnny.
"Certainly not while I'm here," said the signorina. "You've only got
to shut your eyes and lie still; but we're going to make a little
noise."
There was in the room, as perhaps might be expected, a washing-stand.
This article was of the description one often sees; above the level of
the stand itself there rose a wooden screen to the height of two feet
and a half, covered with pretty tiles, the presumable object being to
protect the wall paper. I never saw a more innocent-looking bit
of furniture; it might have stood in a lady's dressing-room. The
signorina went up to it and _slid_ it gently on one side; it moved in
a groove! Then she pressed a spot in the wall behind and a small piece
of it rolled aside, disclosing a keyhole.
"He's taken the key, of course," she said. "We must break it open.
Who's got a hammer?"
Tools were procured, and, working under the signorina's directions,
after a good deal of trouble, we laid bare a neat little safe embedded
in the wall. This safe was legibly inscribed on the outside "Burglar's
Puzzle." We however, were not afraid of making a noise, and it only
puzzled us for ten minutes.
When opened it revealed a Golconda! There lay in securities and cash
no less than five hundred thousand dollars!
We smiled at one another.
"A sad revelation!" I remarked.
"Hoary old fox!" said the colonel.
No wonder the harbor works were unremunerative in their early stages.
The President must have kept them at a very early stage.
"What are you people up to?" cried Carr.
"Rank burglary, my dear boy," I replied, and we retreated with our
spoil.
"Now," said I to the colonel, "what are you going to do?"
"Why, what do you think, Mr. Martin?" interposed the signorina. "He's
going to give you your money, and divide the rest with his sincere
friend Christina Nugent."
"Well, I suppose so," said the colonel. "But it strikes me you're
making a good thing of this, Martin."
"My dear colonel," said I, "a bargain is a bargain; and where would
you have been without my money?"
The colonel made no reply, but handed me the money, which I liked much
better. I took the three hundred and twenty thousand dollars and said:
"Now, I can face the world, an honest man."
The signorina laughed.
"_I_ am glad," she said, "chiefly for poor old Jones' sake. It'll take
a load off his mind."
The colonel proceeded to divide the remainder into two little heaps,
of which he pushed one over to the signorina. She took it gayly, and
said:
"Now I shall make curl papers of half my bonds, and I shall rely on
the--what do you call it?--the Provisional Government to pay the rest.
You remember about the house?"
"I'll see about that soon," said the colonel impatiently. "You two
seem to think there's nothing to do but take the money. You forget
we've got to make our position safe."
"Exactly. The colonel's government must be carried on," said I.
The signorina did not catch the allusion. She yawned, and said:
"Oh, then, I shall go. Rely on my loyalty, your Excellency."
She made him a courtesy and went to the door. As I opened it for
her she whispered, "Horrid old bear! Come and see me, Jack," and so
vanished, carrying off her dollars.
I returned and sat down opposite the colonel.
"I wonder how she knew about the washing-stand," I remarked.
"Because Whittingham was fool enough to tell her, I suppose," said the
colonel testily, as if he disliked the subject.
Then we settled to business. This unambitious tale does not profess to
be a complete history of Aureataland, and I will spare my readers the
recital of our discussion. We decided at last that matters were still
so critical, owing to the President's escape, that the ordinary forms
of law and constitutional government must be temporarily suspended.
The Chamber was not in session, which made this course easier. The
colonel was to be proclaimed President and to assume supreme power
under martial law for some weeks, while we looked about us. It was
thought better that my name should not appear officially, but I agreed
to take in hand, under his supervision, all matters relating to
finance.
"We can't pay the interest on the real debt," he said.
"No," I replied; "you must issue a notice, setting forth that, owing
to General Whittingham's malversations, payments must be temporarily
suspended. Promise it will be all right later on."
"Very good," said he; "and now I shall go and look up those officers.
I must keep them in good temper, and the men too. I shall give 'em
another ten thousand."
"Generous hero!" said I, "and I shall go and restore this cash to my
employers."
It was twelve o'clock when I left the Golden House and strolled
quietly down to Liberty Street. The larger part of the soldiers had
been drawn off, but a couple of companies still kept guard in the
_Piazza_. The usual occupations of life were going on amid a confused
stir of excitement, and I saw by the interest my appearance aroused
that some part at least of my share in the night's doing had leaked
out. The _Gazette_ had published a special edition, in which it hailed
the advent of freedom, and, while lauding McGregor to the skies,
bestowed a warm commendation on the "noble Englishman who, with a
native love of liberty, had taken on himself the burden of Aureataland
in her hour of travail." The metaphor struck me as inappropriate, but
the sentiment was most healthy; and when I finally beheld two officers
of police sitting on the head of a drunken man for toasting the fallen
_régime_, I could say to myself, as I turned into the bank, "Order
reigns in Warsaw."
General assent had proclaimed a suspension of commerce on this
auspicious day, and I found Jones sitting idle and ill at ease. I
explained to him the state of affairs, showing how the President's
dishonorable scheme had compelled me, in the interests of the bank, to
take a more or less active part in the revolution. It was pathetic to
hear him bewail the villainy of the man he had trusted, and when I
produced the money he blessed me fervently, and at once proposed
writing to the directors a full account of the matter.
"They are bound to vote you an honorarium, sir," he said.
"I don't know, Jones," I replied. "I am afraid there is a certain
prejudice against me at headquarters. But in any case I have resolved
to forego the personal advantage that might accrue to me from my
conduct. President McGregor has made a strong representation to me
that the schemes of General Whittingham, if publicly known, would,
however unjustly, prejudice the credit of Aureataland, and he appealed
to me not to give particulars to the world. In matters such as these,
Jones, we cannot be guided solely by selfish considerations."
"God forbid, sir!" said Jones, much moved.
"I have, therefore, consented to restrict myself to a confidential
communication to the directors; they must judge how far they will pass
it on to the shareholders. To the world at large I shall say nothing
of the second loan; and I know you will oblige me by treating this
money as the product of realizations in the ordinary course of
business. The recent disturbances will quite account for so large a
sum being called in."
"I don't quite see how I can arrange that."
"Ah, you are overdone," said I. "Leave it all to me, Jones."
And this I persuaded him to do. In fact, he was so relieved at seeing
the money back that he was easy to deal with; and if he suspected
anything, he was overawed by my present exalted position. He appeared
to forget what I could not, that the President, no doubt, still
possessed that fatal cable!
After lunch I remembered my engagement with the signorina, and,
putting on my hat, was bidding farewell to business, when Jones said:
"There's a note just come for you, sir. A little boy brought it while
you were out at lunch."
He gave it me--a little dirty envelope, with an illiterate scrawl. I
opened it carelessly, but as my eye fell on the President's hand, I
started in amazement. The note was dated "Saturday--From on board _The
Songstress_," and ran as follows:
"Dear Mr. Martin: I must confess
to having underrated your courage
and abilities. If you care to put them
at my disposal now, I will accept them.
In the other event, I must refer you to
my public announcement. In any case
it may be useful to you to know that
McGregor designs to marry Signorina
Nugent. I fear that on my return it
will be hardly consistent with my public
duties to spare your life (unless you
accept my present offer), but I shall
always look back to your acquaintance
with pleasure. I have, if you will allow
me to say so, seldom met a young man
with such natural gifts for finance and
politics. I shall anchor five miles out
from Whittingham to-night (for I know
you have no ships), and if you join me,
well and good. If not, I shall consider
your decision irrevocable.
"Believe me, dear Mr. Martin, faithfully
yours,
"MARCUS W. WHITTINGHAM,
"President of the Republic of Aureataland."
It is a pleasant thing, as has been remarked, _laudari a laudato
viro_, and the President's praise was grateful to me. But I did not
see my way to fall in with his views. He said nothing about the money,
but I knew well that its return would be a condition of any alliance
between us. Again, I was sure that he also "designed to marry the
signorina," and, if I must have a rival on the spot, I preferred
McGregor in that capacity. Lastly, I thought that, after all, there is
a decency in things, and I had better stick to my party. I did not,
however, tell McGregor about the letter, merely sending him a line to
say I had heard that _The Songstress_ was hovering a few miles off,
and he had better look out.
This done, I resumed my interrupted progress to the signorina's. When
I was shown in, she greeted me kindly.
"I have had a letter from the President," I said.
"Yes," said she, "he told me he had written to you."
"Why, have you heard from him?"
"Yes, just a little note. He is rather cross with me."
"I can quite understand that. Would you like to see my letter?"
"Oh, yes," she replied carelessly.
She read it through and asked:
"Well, are you going over to him--going to forsake me?"
"How can you ask me? Won't you show me your letter, Christina?"
"No, John," she answered, mimicking my impassioned tones. "I may steal
the President's savings, but I respect his confidence."
"You see what he says to me about McGregor."
"Yes," said the signorina. "It is not, you know, news to me. But,
curious to relate, the colonel has just been here himself and told
me the same thing. The colonel has not a nice way of making love,
Jack--not so nice as yours nearly."
Thus encouraged, I went and sat down by her. I believe I took her
hand.
"You don't love him?"
"Not at all," she replied.
I must beg to be excused recording the exact terms in which I placed
my hand and heart at the signorina's disposal. I was extremely
vehement and highly absurd, but she did not appear to be displeased.
"I like you very much, Jack," she said, "and it's very sweet of you to
have made a revolution for me. It was for me, Jack?"
"Of course it was, my darling," I promptly replied.
"But you know, Jack, I don't see how we're much better off. Indeed, in
a way it's worse. The President wouldn't let anybody else marry me,
but he wasn't so peremptory as the colonel. The colonel declares he
will marry me this day week!"
"We'll see about that," said I savagely.
"Another revolution, Jack?" asked the signorina.
"You needn't laugh at me," I said sulkily.
"Poor boy! What are we idyllic lovers to do?"
"I don't believe you're a bit in earnest."
"Yes, I am, Jack--now." Then she went on, with a sort of playful pity,
"Look at my savage, jealous, broken-hearted Jack."
I caught her in my arms and kissed her, whispering hotly:
"You will be true to me, sweet?"
"Let me go," she said. Then, leaning over me as I flung myself back in
a chair, "It's pleasant while it lasts; try not to be broken-hearted
if it doesn't last."
"If you love me, why don't you come with me out of this sink of
iniquity?"
"Run away with you?" she asked, with open amazement. "Do you think
that we're the sort of people, for a romantic elopement? I am very
earthy. And so are you, Jack, dear--nice earth, but earth, Jack."
There was a good deal of truth in this remark. We were not an ideal
pair for love in a cottage.
"Yes," I said. "I've got no money."
"I've got a little money, but not much. I've been paying debts," she
added proudly.
"I haven't been even doing that. And I'm not quite equal to purloining
that three hundred thousand dollars."
"We must wait, Jack. But this I will promise. I'll never marry the
colonel. If it comes to that or running away, we'll run away."
"And Whittingham?"
The signorina for once looked grave.
"You know him," she said. "Think what he made you do! and you're not a
weak man, or I shouldn't be fond of you. Jack, you must keep him away
from me."
She was quite agitated; and it was one more tribute to the President's
powers that he should exert so strange an influence over such a
nature. I was burning to ask her more about herself and the President,
but I could not while she was distressed. And when I had comforted
her, she resolutely declined to return to the subject.
"No, go away now," she said. "Think how we are to checkmate our two
Presidents. And, Jack! whatever happens, I got you back the money.
I've done you some good. So be kind to me. I'm not very much afraid of
your heart breaking. In fact, Jack, we are neither of us good young
people. No, no; be quiet and go away. You have plenty of useful things
to occupy your time."
At last I accepted my dismissal and walked off, my happiness
considerably damped by the awkward predicament in which we stood.
Clearly McGregor meant business; and at this moment McGregor was
all-powerful. If he kept the reins, I should lose my love. If the
President came back, a worse fate still threatened. Supposing it were
possible to carry off the signorina, which I doubted very much, where
were we to go to! And would she come?
On the whole, I did not think she would come.
