A MtN- OF MARK

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A MAN OF .MARK

BY •

ANTHONY HOPE

‘ A wise man will make more opportunities than he finds,'

Francis Bacon

A NEW EDITION

METHUEN & CO.

36 ESSEX STREET, W.C.
LONDON

1895

Coleagat library

A MAN OF MARK

CHAPTER I
*

THE MOVEMENT AI ft) THE MAN

I N the year 1884 the Republic of
Aureataland was certainly not in a
flourishing condition. Although ..most
happily situated (it lies on the coast of
South America, rather *to the north — I
mustn’t be more definite), and gifted with
an extensive territory, nearly * as*, big as
Yorkshire, it had yet failed to make that,
material progress which had been hoped
by its. founders. It is true that thq State
was still* in its iqfancy, being’ an .offshoot
* A

a

A MAN OF MARK

f

from another 2nd larger realm, and hav-
ing obtained the boon of freedom and
self-government only as recently as 1871,
after a series of political convulsions of a
violent character, Which may be studied
with advantage in the well-known history
of The Making of ureataland , by a
learned professor of the Jeremiah P.,
Jecks University in the United States
of America. This profound ^historian is,
beyond all question, accurate in attribut-
ing the chief share in the national
movement to the energy and ability of
the first President of Aureataland, His
Excellency President Marcus W. Whitt-
ingham, a native of Virginia. Having
enjoyed a personal friendship (not, un-
happily, extended Jo public affairs) with
that talefibed man, as will subsequently
appear, I have great pleasure in publicly
endorsing the professor’s dujpgium. Not
only did the President bring ’Aureataland
into being, ..but • he moulded her whole

CONTENTS

CHATTER I

l‘AOK

• THE MOVEMENT AND THE MAN, I

CHAPTER IJ

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT, . 11

CHAPTER III

AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY, . 30

CHAPTER IV

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION, 40

CHAPTER V

I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION, 63 *

CHAPTER VI

MOURONS POUR LA PA^RIE ! 82

^CHAPTER VII

THE MINE IS JSAID,

102

CONTENTS

viii

CHAPTER VIII

* PAOB

JOHNNY CARR IS WILFUL, . . Il6

CHAPTER

A SUPPER PARTY, . . • . . 1 33

CHAPTER X

TWO SURPRISES, 141

CHAPTER XI

DIVIDlNtflHE SPOILS, 1 66

CHAPTER XII*

BETWEEN TWO FIRES, 1S7

CHAPTER XIII

1 WORK UPON HUlftAN NATURE, 21 1

CHAPTER XIV

FAREWELL TO AUREATA LAN1», 228

CHAPTER XV

-A DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENT, 25 1

THE MOVEMENT AND THE MAN • 3

a

constitution. ‘ It was his genius’ (as the
professor observes with propriety) * which
was fired with ^he idea of creating a* truly
modern state, instinct with the progressive
spirit of the Anglo-Saxon race. It w&s
his genius which cast aside the worn-
out traditions of European dominion, and
taught his fellow-citizens that they were,
if not all by birth, yet one and all by
adoption, the sons of freedom.' Any mis-
takes in the execution 0/ this fine con-
ception must be set down to the fact that
the President's great powers were rather
the happy gift of nature than the result of
culture. To this truth he was himself in
no way blind, sand he wag accustomed to
attribute his want of a liberal education to
the social ruin brought tipon his family by
the American Civil War, and to the dis-
location thereby^ produced in his studies.
As the President was, when I had the
honour of .making his acquaintance in the
year 1889, fifty years old if h6* was a day,

4 *

A MAN OF MARK

this explanation hardly agrees with dates,
ynless it is to be. supposed that the Presi-
dent -was still pursuing his Education when
the war began, being then 'of the age of
thirty-five, or thereabouts.

Starting under the auspices of such a
gifted leader, and imbued with so noble
a zeal for progress, Aureataland was, at
the beginning of her history as a nation,
the object of many fond and proud hopes.
But in spite of the blaze of glory in which
her sun had risen (to be seen duly reflected
in the professor’s work) her prosperity, as
I have said, was not maintained. The
country was well suited for agriculture and
grazing, but the population — a very queer

mixture of races — was indolent, and more

» *

given to keeping “ holidays and festivals
than to nonest labour. Most of them
were unintelligent; thos^ who were in-
telligent made their living* put of those
who * weren’t, ,a method of spbsistence
satisfactory*' to the individual, but adding

THE MOVEMENT AND THE MAN # 5

little to the aggregate of national wealth.
Only two 'classes made fortunes of any
size — Government officials and bar-keeper?
— and even fn their case the wealth was
not great, looked at *by an English or
American standard. Production was slack,
invention at a standstill, and taxation
heavy. I suppose the President’s talents
were more adapted to founding a State in
the shock and turmoil of war, than to the
dull details of administration ; and although
he was nominally assisted by a Cabinet of
three Ministers, and an Assembly com-
prising twenty-five members, it was on
his shoulders that the real work of Govern-
ment fell. On him, therefore, the moral
responsibility must also rest — a burden
the President bore with a cheerfulness
and equanimity almost amounting to un-
consciousness.

I first set foot in Aureataland in March
1880, when I was landed on the beach

I •

by a boat from thte steamer at*- the' capital

6

A MAN OF MARK

town of Whittingham. I was a young
man, entering on my twenty-sixth year,
and full of pride at finding myself at so
early an age sent out to fill the respon-
sible position of manager at our Aureata-
land: branch. The Directors of the Bank
were then pursuing what may without un-
fairness &e called an adventurous policy,
and, in response to the urgent entreaties
and glowing exhortations of the President,
they had decided on establishing a branch
at Whittingham. I commanded a certain
amount of interest on the Board, inasmuch
as the Chairman owed my father a sum of
money, too small to mention but too large
to pay,*elnd when, led by the youthful itch
for novelty, I applied for the post, I suc-
ceeded in obtaining my wish at a salary
of a hundred dollars a month. I am
sorry to say that in the course of a later
business dealing the balance of obligation
shifted from the Chairman to my father,
an unhappj event which deprived me of

THE MOVEMENT AND THE MAN 7

•

my hold on the Company and seriously in-
fluenced my conduct in later days. When
I arrived in Aureataland the bank had
been open shme six months, under the
guidance of Mr Thonfas Jones, a steady-
going old clerk, who was in future to
act as chief (and indeed only) cashier
under my orders. *

I found Whittingham a pleasant little
city of about five thousand inhabitants,
picturesquely situated on* a fine bay, at
the spot where the river Marcus de-
bouched into the ocean. The town was
largely composed of Government buildings
and hotels, but there was a street of shops
of no mean order, and a handsome- square,
called the ‘ Piazza 1871, ’‘embellished with
an equestrian statue, of the President.
Round about this national monument were
a large number of seats, and, hard by, a
cafe and bandstand. Here, I soon found,
was the centre of life in the aftefnoons
and evenings. Going along a fine avenue

8

A MAN OF MARK

of trees for half a mile or so you came
to the ‘Golden House,’ the President’s
official residence, an imposing villa of
white stone with a gilt statu*e of Aureata-
lajid, a female figure sitting on a plough-
share, and holding a sword in the right
hand, and a cornucopia in the left By
her feet lay what was apparently a badly-
planed cannon ball ; this, I learnt, was a
nugget, and from its preseftce and the
name of the palace, I gathered that the
President had once hoped to base the
prosperity of his young republic on the
solid foundation of mineral wealth. This
hope had been long abandoned.

I have always hated hotels, so I lost
no time in looking round for lodgings
suitable to my means, and was fortunate
enough to obtain a couple of rooms in
.the house occupied by a Catholic priest,
Father Jacques Bonchrdtidn., He was a
very good fellow, and, though we did not
become. intifjaatef, I could always* rely on

THE MOVEMENT AND THE MAN ' 9

his courtesy and friendly services. Here
I lived in great comfort at an expense
of fifty dollars & month, and I soon found
that my spard fifty made me a well-to-do
man in Whittingham. * Accordingly I h^d
the entrie of all the best houses, 'inelud-
ing the Golden House, and a very pleas-
ant little society we had ; Occasional
dances, frequent dinners, and pfenty of
lawn tennis ‘and billiards prevented me
feeling the tedium I had somewhat feared,
and the young ladies of Whittingham did
their best to solace my exile. As for
business, I found the bank doing a small
business but a tolerably satisfactory one,
and if we made some bad debts, we got
high interest on the good ones, so that,
one way or another, l managed to send
home pretty satisfactory reports, «tnd time
passed on quietly enough in spite of cer-
tain manifestatibns of discontent among
the population. These disturbing, phe-
nomena Vlrere first brought prpjminently to

IO

A MAN OF MARK

my notice at the time when I became
involved in the fortunes of the Aureata-
land national debt, and a« all my story
turns on this incident, it perhaps is a fit
sijbject for a new Chapter.

CHAPTER I I

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT

W HEN* our branch was established
at Whittingham* there had been
an arrangement made between ourselves
and the Government, by the terms of
which we were to have the Government
business, and to occupy, in fact, much that
quasi-official position enjoyed by- the Bank
of England at home. As a quid pro quo y
the bank was to lend to the Republic the
sum of 500,000 dollars, at six *per cent.
The President was at the time floating a
loan of one ipillion dollars for the purpose
of works at the harbour of Whitting-
ham. This astute ruler* had, it .seemed,

II

12

A MAN OF MARK

hit on the plan of instituting public
works on a large scale as a corrective
t'o popular discontent, hoping thereby
not only to develop trade,* but also to
give employment to many persons who,
if unoccupied, became centres of agita-
tion. Such at least was the official
account Of his policy ; whether it was
the true one I saw reason to doubt later
on. As regards this loan, my office
was purely ministerial. The arrange-
ments were duly made, the proper
guarantees given, and in June 1880,
I had the pleasure of handing over to
the President the 500,000 dollars. I
learnt from him on that occasion that,
to his great gratification, the balance of
the loan had been .taken up.

‘We shall make a start at once, sir,
said the President, in his usual confident
but quiet way. * In twcf years Whitt-
Lnghaiji harbour will walk - over the
world. . Don't * .be afraid about your

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT 13

interest. Your Directors never made
a better investment.’

I thanked hfis Excellency, accepted a
cigar, and withdrew with a peaceful
mind. I had no responsibility in the
matter, and cared nothing whether 'the
Directors got their interest or not. I
was however somewhat curious *to know

ft

who had taken up the rest of the loan,
a curiosity iVhich was not destined to
be satisfied for some time.

The works were begun and the interest
was paid, but I cannot say that the
harbour progressed rapidly ; in fact, I
doubt if more than 100,000 dollars ever
found their way into the pockets of con-
tractors or workmen over the job. The
President had some holes dug and some
walls built; having reached that point,
about two yeare after the interview above
recorded, he. suddenly drew off the few
labourers still employed, and matters
came to a dead stop. •* ... .•

14

A MAN OF MARK

It was shortly after this occurrence
that I was honoured with an invitation
to dine at the Golden House. It was
in the month of July 1882. Needless
to say, I accepted the invitation, not
only because it was in the nature o§ a
command, but also because the President
gave uncommonly good dinners, and,
although a bachelor (in Aureataland at
all events), had as well ordered a house-
hold as I have ever known. My grati-
fication was greatly increased when, on
my arrival, I found myself the only
guest, and realised that the President con-
sidered my society in itself enough for
an evening’s entertainment. It did cross
my mind that this might mean business,
and I thought it. none the worse for
. that. •

We dined in the famous verandah,
the scene of so many brilliant Whitting-
ham /unctions. The dinner was beyond
reproach, .the • .wines .perfection. The

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT 19

And, moreover, I believe he stands well
with the Signorina. The situation, in
fact, is desperate. I must have money,
Mr Martin. 'Will your Directors make
me a new loan ? ’ *

I knew very well the fate that would
attend any such application. The Di-
rectors were already decidedly uneasy
about their first loan ; shareholders had
asked awkward questions, and the Chair-
man had found no small difficulty in
showing that the investment was likely
to prove either safe or remunerative.
Again, only a fortnight before, the
Government had made a formal appli-
cation to me on the same subject. I
cabled the Directors, and received a
prompt reply in the single word * Toot-
sums,’ which in our code meant ‘ Must .
absolutely and finally- decline to entertain
any application^.’ I communicated the
contents of the cable to Seftor .Don
Antonio <de la Casabianca, the Minister
Httarpara Taikrfs&na ftibHc'Ubgtff? ’

Jift Qd Lif * OS-

20 A MAN OF MARK

c

of Finance, who had, of course, com-
municated them in turn to the Presi-
dent. 1

I ventured to remind his 'Excellency of
these facts. He 'heard me with silent
attention.

‘ I fear,’ I concluded, ‘ therefore, that
it is impossible for me to be of any assist-
ance to' your Excellency.’

He nodded, and gave a 1 slight sigh.
Then, with an air of closing the subject,
he said,

‘ I suppose the Directors are past reason.
Help yourself to a brandy and soda.’

‘Allow me to mix one for you, sir,’ I
answered.

While I was preparing our beverages
he remained silent. When I had sat
down again he said,

* You occupy a very responsible posi-
tion here for so young a hiaji, Mr Martin
— not beyond your merits, I am sure.’

I bojved.

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT

i

‘They leave you a pretty free hand,
don’t they?’

I replied that as far as routine business
went I did much as geemed good in my
own eyes.

‘ Routine business ? including invest-
ments, for instance?’ he asked.

* Yes,’ said I ; * investments . in the

ordinary course of business— discounting
bills and putting money out on loan and
mortgage over here. I jJlace the money,
and merely notify the people at home of
what I have done.’

‘ A most proper confidence to repose in
you,’ the President was good enough to
say. ‘ Confidence is the life of business ;
you must trust a man. It would be absurd
to make you send home the bills, and.
deeds, and certificates, and what* not. Of
course they wouldn’t do that.’

Though this was a statement, somehow
it also sounded like a auestion. *so I
answered*,

32r

A MAN OF MARK

‘ As a rule they do me the compliment
of taking my word. The fact is, they are,
as your Excellency says, obliged to trust
somebody.’ ,

‘ Exactly as I thought. And you some-
times have large sums to place ? ’

At this point, notwithstanding my respect
for the President, I began to smell a rat.

*Oh no, sir,’ I replied, ‘usually very
small. Our business is not so extensive
as we could wish.’

* Whatever,’ said the President, looking
me straight in the face, ‘ whatever may be
usual, at this moment you have a large
sum — a very respectable sum — of money
in your safe at the bank, waiting for
investment.’

‘ How the devil' do you know that ? ’
1 cried. *

* Mr Martin ! It is no floubt my fault ;
I am too prone to ignore etiquette; but
you forget yourself.’

I hastened to apologise, although I

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT a 3

was pretty certain the President was con-
templating a queer transaction, if not flat
burglary. * #

‘Ten thousand pardons, your Excel-
lency, for my most unbecoming tone, but
may I ask how you became possessed of
this information ? ’ *

‘Jones told me,' he said, simply.

As it would not have been polite to ex-
press the sufprise I felt at Jones’s sim-
plicity in choosing such, a confidant, I
held my peace.

‘Yes,’ continued the President, ‘owing
to the recent sales of your real property in
this country (sales due, I fear, to a want
of confidence in my administration), you
have at this moment a sum of 300,000
dollars in the bank safe. Now (don’t in-
terrupt me, please) the experience of a
busy life teaches me that commercial re-
putation and. pVobity depend on results,
not on methods. Your Directors have a
prejudice* against me and my Government.

A MAN OF MARK

24

' r

That prejudice you, with your superior
opportunities for judgment, cannot share.
You will serve your erhployers best by
doing for them what they haven’t the
sense and courage' to do for themselves.
I 'propose that you should assume
the responsibility of lending me this
money. < The transaction will redound
to the‘ profit of the bank. It shall
also,’ he added slowly, ‘redound to your
profit.’ ,

I began to see my way. But there
were difficulties.

‘What am I to tell the Directors?’ I
asked.

‘ You will make the usual return of fii-
vestments and debts outstanding — mort-
gages — loans on approved security — but
you kno^r better than I do.’

‘ False returns, your Excellency means?’

‘They will no doubt tfe formally inac-
curate,’ the President admitted.

‘What if they ask for. proofs? ’.said I.

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT tj

‘ Sufficient unto the day/ said the Pre-
sident.

‘You have rather surprised me, sij,’ f
said, ‘ but I am most anxious to oblige
you, and to forward the welfare of
Aureataland. There are, however, two
points which occur to m*e. First, how
am I to be insured against not getting
my interest? That I must have.’

‘Quite so,' he interrupted. ‘And the
second point I can anticipate. It is, what
token of my gratitude for your timely
assistance can I prevail on you to
accept ? ’

^Your Excellency’s knowledge of human
nature is surprising.’

4 Kindly give me your attention, Mr
Martin, and I will t*y to satisfy both
your very reasonable requirements. You
have 300,000 dollars ; those you will hand
over to me, receiving in return Govern-
ment 6 per cent bonds for that amount. I
' will then hand back to you 65,000 dollars.

A MAN OF MARK

45.000 you will retain as security for your
interest ; in the event of any failure on
the. part of Aureataland*to meet her ob-
ligations honourably, you will pay the
interest on the whole 300,000 out of that
sum. That secures you for more than
two years against absolute failure of
interest,* which in reality you need not
fear. Till the money is wanted, you
will have the use of it. The remaining

20.000 I shall* beg of you to accept as
your commission, or rather as a token of
my esteem. 20,000 absolutely — 45,000
as long as Aureataland pays interest!
You must admit 1 deal with you as |pe
gentleman with another, Mr Martin. In
the result, your Directors get their
interest, I get irty loan, you get your
bonus. *We are all benefited, no one is
hurt! All this is effected at the cost
of a harmless stratagem.’ *

I 'was. full of admiration. The scheme
was vfery neat, and, as far as the* President '

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT a 7.

and myself were concerned, he had been
no more than just in pointing out its .
advantages. As *for the Directors, they
would probably get thgir interest ; any-
how, they would get- it for two years.
There was risk, of course ; a demand for
evidence of my alleged investments or a
sudden order to realise a heavy* sum at
short notice would bring the house about
my ears. Bu{ I did not anticipate this
contretemps , and at the worst I had my
20,000 dollars, and could make myself
scarce therewith. These calculations were
quite correct at the moment, but I upset
thqpi afterwards by spending the dollars
and by contracting a tie which made flight
from Aureataland a distasteful alternative.

‘Well, Mr Martin,’ said the President,
do you agree ? '

1 still hesitated. Was it a moral
scruple? Probably not, unless, indeed,
prudence and morality are the same
’thing.

,28 A MAN OF MARK

The President rose and put his hand
on my shoulder.

* Better say yes. I might take it, you
know, and caus$ you to disappear — be-
lieve me, with reluctance, Mr Martin.
It* is true I shouldn’t like this course. It
would perhaps make my position here
untenable. But not having the money
would certainly make it untenable.’

I saw the force of this argument, and,
gulping down my brandy and soda, I
said,

‘ I can refuse your Excellency nothing.’

‘Then take your hat and come along
to the bank,’ said he.

This was sharp work.

‘Your Excellency does not mean to
take the money* now — to-night?’ I ex-
claimed.

‘Not to take, Mr Martin — to receive
it from you. We have made our bargain.
What is the objection to carrying it out
pronlptly?”-

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT

29

‘ But I must have the bonds. They
must be prepared, sir.’

* They are hefe,’ he said, taking # a
bundle from the* drawer of a writing-table.
4 300,000 dollars 6 per cent, stock, signed
by myself, and countersigned by Don An-
tonio. Take your hat and ct>me along.’

I did as I was bid.

CHAPTER III

AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY

•

I T was a t beautiful moonlight night,
and Whittingham was looking her
best as we made our way along the
avenue leading to the Piazza 1871.
The President walked briskly, silent
but serene ; I followed, the trouble in
my mind reflected in a somewhat hang-
dog air, and I yas not much comforted
when the President broke the stillness
of the night by saying,

* You have set your foot on the first
rung °f the ladder that leads to fame
and wealtji, Mr Martjn.

3 ®

AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY

31

I was rather afraid I had set it on the
first rung of the ladder that leads to the
gallbws. But thfire the foot was; what*
the ladder turned out jto be was in the
hands of the gods ; so I threw off care,
and as we entered the Piazza I pointed
to the statue, and said, *

‘ Behold my inspiring example, your
Excellency ! ’

‘ By Jove, yes,’ he replied, ‘ I make the
most of my opportunities.’ ,

I knew he regarded me as one of his
opportunities, and was making the most of
me. This is not a pleasant point of view
to regard one’s self from, so I changed the
subject, and said,

‘ Shall we call for Don Antonio ? ’
‘Why?’

‘Well, as he’s Minister of Finance, I
thought perhaps his presence would make
the matter more regular.’

‘ If the presence of the President,’ said
that officiaj, * can’t make a .matter regular,

A MAN OF MARK

3 *

I don’t know what can. Let him sleep on.
Isn’t his signature on the bonds enough ? ’

What could I do? 1 made one more
weak objection :

‘ What shall we tell Jones ? ’

H What shall we tell Jones?’ he echoed.

‘ Really, Mr Martin, you must use your
discretion as to what you tell your employis.
You can hardly expect me to tell Jones
anything, beyond that it’s a‘fine morning.’

We had now reached the bank, which
stood in Liberty Street, a turning out of
the Piazza. I took out my key, unlocked
the door, and we entered together. We
passed into my inner sanctum, where the
safe stood.

‘ What’s it in ? ’ asked the President.

‘ United States* bonds, and bills on New
York and London,’ I replied.

‘ Good,’ said he. * Let me look.’

I unlocked the safe, and took out the
securities. He examined them carefully,
placing each after due scrutiny, in a small*

AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY

33

handbag, in which he had brought down
the bonds I was to receive. I stood by,
holding a shaded candle. At this moment
a voice cried from the door,

1 If you move you’re dead men ! ’

I started and looked up. The President
looked up without starting. There was
dear old Jones, descended from his upper
chamber, where he and Mrs Jones resided.
He was clad ’only in his night-shirt, and
was levelling a formidable gun full at the
august head of his Excellency.

‘Ah, Mr Jones,’ said the latter, ‘it’s a
fine morning.’

‘Good heavens, the President!’ cried
Jones; ‘and Mr Martin! Why, what on
earth, gentlemen — ? ’

The President gently "waved one hand
towards me, as if to say, * Mr Martin will
explain,’ and went on placing his securities
in the bag.

In face of this .crisis my hesitation left
me.

2 4

A MAN OF MARK

‘ I have received a cable from Europe,
Jones,’ said I, ‘instructing me to advance
a sum of money to his Excellency ; I am
engaged in carrying out these instructions.’

‘ Cable ? ’ said Jones. * Where is it ? ’

*‘In my pocket,’ said I, feeling for it.
‘No! Why, 1 must have left it at the
Golden *House.’

The President came to my assistance.

* I saw it on the table Just before we
started. Though I presume Mr Jones
has no right — ? ’

‘None at all,’ I said briskly.

‘Yet, as a matter of concession, Mr
Martin will no doubt show it to him to-
morrow ? ’

' Strictly as a matter of concession per-
haps I will, though I am bound to say that
I am surprised at your manner, Mr Jones.’

Jones looked sadly puzzled.

‘ It’s all irregular, sir,’ said he.

* Hardly more so than your costume ! ’
said* the President, pleasantly-

AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY

35 .

Jones was a modest man, and being
thus made aware of the havoc the draught
was playing with his airy covering, he
hastily closed the door,, and said to me
appealingly,

‘ It’s all right, sir, I suppose? ’

‘ Perfectly right,’ said I.

‘ But highly confidential,’ added # the
President. ‘And you will put me under
a personal obligation, Mr Jones, and at
the same time fulfil your duty to your
employers, if you preserve silence till the
transaction is officially announced. A
man who serves me does not regret it.’

Here he was making the most of
another opportunity — Jones this time.

‘ Enough of this,’ I said. ‘ I will go
over the matter in the morning, an<J mean-
while hadn’t you better go back to— *

' Mrs Jones,’ interjected his Excellency.
‘ And mind, silence, Mr Jones ! ’

He walked up to Jones as he said this,
and looked hard at him.

A MAN OF MARK

. 36

* Silent men prosper best, and live
longest, Mr Jones.’

.Jones looked into h*is steely eyes, and
suddenly fell all, of a tremble.

The President was satisfied. He
abruptly pushed him out of the room,
and we heard his shambling steps going
up the' staircase.

His Excellency turned to me, and said
with apparent annoyance,'

‘You leave a great deal to me, Mr
Martin.’

He had certainly done more than tell
Jones it was a fine morning. But I was
too much troubled to thank him ; I was
thinking of the cable. The President
divined my thoughts, and said,

‘ You must prepare that cable.’

‘Yes,’ I replied; ‘that would reassure
him. But 1 haven’t had much practice in
that sort of thing, and I don’t quite know — ’
•The President scribbled a fe’w words on
a bit of papef, and said,

AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY

37 *

‘Take that to the Post Office, and
they’ll give you the proper form; you
can fill it up.’ *

Certainly some thing* go easily if the
head of the State is your fellow criminal.

‘And now, Mr Martin, it grows late..
I have my securities ; you have your bonds.
We have won over Jones. All goes .well.
Aureataland is saved. You have made
your fortune, for there lie your 65,000
dollars. And, in fine, I am much obliged
to you. I will not trouble you to attend
me on my return. Good-night, Mr
Martin.'

He went out, and I threw myself down
in my office chair, and sat gazing at the
bonds he had left me. I wondered
whether he had merely made a tool of me ;
whether I could trust him ; whether* I had
done well to sacrifice my honesty, relying
on his promises! And yet there lay my
reward ; and, as purely moral considera-
tions did noft trouble me, I soon arose, ‘put

,38 A MAN OF MARK

the Government bonds and the 65,000
dollars in securities in e the safe, locked up
everything, and went home to my lodgings.
As I went in it* was broad daylight, for
the clock had gone five, and I met Father
Jacques sallying forth. He had already
breakfasted, and was on his way to ad-
minister early consolation to the flower-
women in the Piazza. He stopped me
with a grieved look, and said,

‘Ah, my friend, these are untimely
hours.’

I saw I was labouring under an unjust
suspicion — a most revolting thing.

‘I have only just come from the bank,’
I said. ‘ I had to dine at the Golden
House and afterwards returned to finish
up a bit of wofk.’

* AH ! that is well,’ he cried. ' It is then
the industrious and not the idle apprentice
I meet?’ referring to a series of famous
points with which my room was decorated
a gift from my fathei* op my departure.

AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY

39 .

I nodded and passed on, saying to my-
self: ‘ Deuced industrious, indeed. Not
many men havQ done such a night’s work
as I have.* «

And that was how my fortunes became
bound up with those of the Aureataland
National Debt.

CHAPTER IV

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION

r

A FTER the incidents above recorded,
things went on quietly enough for
some months. I had a serious talk with
Jones, reproaching him gravely for his
outrageous demeanour. He capitulated
abjectly on being shown the cable, which-
was procured in the manner kindly indi-
cated by the President. The latter had
perhaps been in too great a hurry with
his heavy guns, for his hint of violence
had rather stirred than allayed Jones’s
apprehensions. If there were nothing to
conceal, why should his Excellency not
stick at murder to hide it? ’ However
I explained- to* 'him the considerations of

40

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 4^

high policy, dictating inviolable secrecy,
and justifying a somewhat arbitrary way
of dealing with a trusted official ; and- the
marked graciousness witjji which Jones was
received when he met the President at
the Ministry of Finance on current busi-
ness went far to obliterate* his unpleasant
recollections. I further bound hilh to my
fortunes by obtaining for him a rfse of
salary from the Directors, * in consequence
of the favourable report of his conduct
received from Mr Martin.’ '

Peaceful as matters seemed, I was not
altogether at ease. To begin with, the
new loan did not apparently at all im-
prove the financial position of Aureata-
land. Desolation still reigned on the

scene of the harbour works; there was

»

the usual difficulty in paying salaries and
meeting current expenditure. The Presi-
dent did not yivite my confidence as to
the disposal of his funds; indeed before
long I was .alarmed to see a*growing cold-

A MAN OF MARK

ness in his manner, which I considered at
once ungrateful and menacing ; and when
the half-year came rouncl he firmly refused
to disburse more than half the amount of
interest due on the second loan, thus forc-
ing me to make an -inroad on my reserve
of 45,000 dollars. He gave me many
good reasons for this course of conduct,
dwelling chiefly op the necessary unpro-
ductiveness of public works* in their early
stages, and confidently promising full pay-
ment with arrears next time. Neverthe-
less I began to see that I must face the
possibility of a continual drain on resources
that I had fondly hoped would be available
for my own purposes for a considerable
time at least. Thus one thing and another
contributed to open a breach between his
Excellency and myself, and, although I
never ceased to feel his charm as a private
companion, my distrust of Jiim as a ruler,
and, I may add, as a fellow-conspirator,
steadily deepened.

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 44

Other influences were at this time — for
we have now reached the beginning of
’83 — at work in the same direction. Rich
in the possession of Ay ‘ bonus,’ I had
plunged even more freely than before into
the gaieties of Whittingham, and whfere
I was- welcome before, I was, now a doubly-
honoured guest. I had also taken to play
on a somewhat high scale, and it was my
reputation as* a daring gambler that pro-
cured me the honour of an acquaintance
with the Signorina, the lady to whom the
President had referred during his inter-
view with me ; and my acquaintance with
the Signorina was very rich in results
This lady was, after the President, per-
haps the best known person in Aureata-
land — best known, thaf is, by, name and
face and fame; for her antecedents and
circumstances were wrapped in impene-
trable mystery. When I arrived in the
country the Signorina Christina Nugent
* had been *settled there about a year/ She

A MAN OF MARK

44

r

had appeared originally as a member of
an Operatic Company, which had paid a
visit to our ‘National 'fheatre ’ from the
United States. The Company passed on
its not very brilliant way, but the Sig-
norina remained behind. It was said she
had taken a fancy to Whittingham, and,
being independent of her profession, had
determined to make a sojourn there.- At
any rate, there she was ; whether she took
a fancy to Whittingham, or whether some-
one in Whittingham took a fancy to her,
remained in doubt. She established her-
self in a pretty villa closely adjoining the
Golden House ; it stood opposite the pre-
sidential grounds, commanding a view of
that stately enclosure ; and here she dwelt,
under the care of* a lady whom she called
* Aunt/ ‘known to the rest of the world
as Mrs Carrington. The title ‘ Signoriiia ’
was purely professional ; for all I know
the-name * Nugent ’ was equally a creature
of choice; but; anyhow, the lady herself’

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 45

never professed to be anything but
English, and openly stated that she
retained her title simply because it was
more musical than that of * Miss.’ The
old lady and the young one lived together
in great apparent amity, and certainly in
the utmost material comfort ; for they pro-
bably got through more money thai\ any
one in the town, and there always seemed
to be plenty more where that came from.
Where it did come from was, I need
hardly say, a subject of keen curiosity in
social circles; and when I state that the
Signorina was now about twenty-three
years of age, and of remarkably pre-
possessing appearance, it will be allowed
that we in Whittingham were no worse
than other people if we 'entertained some
uncharitable suspicions. The Signorina,
however, did not make the work of de-
tection at all teasy. She became almost
at once a leading figure in society; her
* salon ' wa£ the n\ee£ing'-place of all parties

A*

A MAN OF MARK

and most sets ; she received many gracious
attentions from the Golden House, but
none on which slander could definitely
settle. She was also frequently the hostess
of members of the Opposition, and of no
onfe more often than their leader, Colonel
George McGregor, a gentleman of Scotch
extractidn, but not pronouncedly national
characteristics, who had attained a high
position in the land of his* adoption ; for
not only did he lead the Opposition in
politics, but he was also second in command
of the Army. He entered the Chamber
as one of the President’s nominees (for the
latter had reserved to himself power -to
nominate five members), but at the time
of which I write the Colonel had deserted
his former chief, «and, secure in his popu-
larity with the forces, defied the man by
whose help he had risen. Naturally the
President- disliked him, a feeling I cordially
shared. But his Excellency’s disapproval
did not prevght the Signorina receiving

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 47

McGregor \9Rfc*great cordiality, though
here again with no more empressement
than his position seemed to demand.

I have as much curiosity as my neigh-
bours, and I was proportionately gratified
when the doors of ‘ Mon Repos,’ as the
Signorina called her residence, were opened
to me. My curiosity, I must confess, was
not unmixed with other feelings ; for I* was
a young man set heart though events had
thrown sobering responsibilities upon me,
and the sight of the Signorina in her daily
drives was enough to inspire a thrill even
in the soul of a bank manager. She was
certainly very beautiful — a tall fair girl,
with straight features and laughing eyes. I
shall not attempt more description, because
all such descriptions sound commonplace,
and the Signorina was, even by the admis-
sion of her enemies, at least very far from
commonplace. , It must suffice to say that,
like Father O’Flynn, she ‘ had such a way
with her ’ that all of us men in Aur eat aland,

4 8

A MAN OF MARK

old and young, rich and poor, were at her
feet, or ready to be there on the least en-
couragement. She was, to my thinking,
the very geniul of health, beauty and
gaiety ; and she put the crowning touch
to her charms by very openly and frankly
soliciting and valuing the admiration she
received. For, after all, it’s only excep-
tiorihl men who are attracted by difficile
beauty ; to most of us a gracious recep-
tion of our timid advances is the most
subtle temptation of the Devil.

It may be supposed, then, that I
thought my money very well invested
when it procured me an invitation to ‘ Mon
Repos,' where the lady of the house was in
the habit of allowing a genteel amount of
gambling among her male friends. She
never played herself, but stood and looked
on. with much interest. On occasion she
would tempt fortune by the hand of a
chosen deputy, and nothing could be
prettier or move artistic than her behaviour*.

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 49

She was just eager enough for a girl unused
to the excitement and fond of triumph,
just indifferent enough to^' show that her
play was merely a pastime, and the gain
of the money or its loss a matter- of
no moment Ah, Signorina, t you were a’
great artist !

At ‘ Mon Repos ’ I soon became
habitual, and, I was fain to think, a wel-
come guest. Mrs Carrington, who en-
tertained a deep distrust of the manners
and excesses of Aureataland, was good
enough to consider me eminently respect-
able, while the Signorina was gracious-
ness itself. I was even admitted to tire
select circle at the dinner party which, as
a rule, preceded her Wednesday evening
reception, and I was a cbnstant figure
round the little roulette board, whicfi, of
all forms of gaming, was our hostess’s
favourite delectation. The Colonel was,
not to my pleasure, an equally invariable'
, guest, and the President himself would

D

A MAN OF MARK

So

often honour the party with his presence,
an honour we found rather expensive,
for his luck '^t all games of skill or
chance was extraordinary.

‘ I have always trusted Fortune,’ he
would say, ‘.and to me she is not fickle.’

‘Who would be fickle if your Excel-
lency were pleased to trust her?’ the
Signorina would respond, with a glance
of almost fond admiration.

This sort of thing did not please
McGregor. He made no concealment
of the fact that he claimed the foremost
place among the Signorina’s admirers,
utterly declining to make way even for
the President. The latter took his boor-
ishness very quietly ; and I could not

avoid the conclusion that the President

€

held, or thought he held, the trumps.
I was, naturally, intensely jealous of both
' these great men, and, although 1 had no
cause to complain of my treatment, I
could not stifle some resentment at the

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 51 *

idea that I was, after all, an outsider and
not allowed a part in the real drama that
was going on. »My happ/ness was further
damped by the fact that luck ran steadily
against me, and I saw my bonus dwindl-
ing very rapidly. I supp9se I may as
well be frank, and confess that my bonus,
to speak strictly, vanished within >six
months after I first set foot in ‘Mon
Repos,’ and I found it necessary to make
that. temporary use of the ‘interest-fund’
which the President had indicated as
open to me under the terms of our
bargain. However my uneasiness on
this score was lightened when the next
instalment of interest was punctually paid,
and, with youthful confidence, I made
little doubt that luck would turn before
long.

Thus time passed on, and the begin-
ning of 1884 <found us all leading an
apparently merry and untroubled .life. In
public affairs the .temper was very* dif-

* 5 *

A MAN OF MARK

ferent. The scarcity of money was
intense, and serious* murmuring had
arisen when the| President ‘squandered'
his ready money in paying interest,
leaving his civil servants and soldiers
unpaid. This was the topic of much
discussion in the Press at the time when
I went up one March evening to the
Signorina’s. I had been detained at the
bank, and found the play in full swing
when I came in. The Signorina was
taking no part in it, but sat by herself
on a low lounge by the verandah window.
I went up to her and made my bow.

‘You spare us but little of your time,
Mr Martin,’ she said.

' Ah, but you have all my thoughts,’ I
replied, for she was looking charming.

‘ I don’t care so much about your
thoughts,’ she said. Then, after a pause,
she went on, ' It’s very 'hot here, come
intq the conservatory.’

It *almost ; looked as though she had

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 53 #

been waiting for me, and I followed in
high delight into jhe long narrow glass
house running, parallel /to the ‘salon/
High green plants hid us from the view
of those inside, and we only heard -dis-
tinctly his Excellency’s voice, saying with
much geniality to the Colonel, ‘ Well,
you must be lucky in love, Colonfel,’ from
which I concluded that the Colonel was
not in the vein at cards.

The Signorina smiled slightly as she
heard; then she plucked a white rose,
turned round, and stood facing me,
slightly flushed as though with some
inner excitement

‘I am afraid those two gentlemen do
not love one another/ she said.

* Hardly,’ I assented.

‘ And you, do you love them — or ’either
of them?’

‘ I love only one person in Aureataland/

I replied, as ardently as I dared.

* The Signorina bit her rose, glancing

54

A MAN OF MARK

up at me with unfeigned amusement and
pleasure. I think I hjtve mentioned that
she didn't objecl to honest admiration.

' Is it possible you mean me ? ’ she said,
making me a little curtsey. ‘ I only think
si) because most of the Whittingham
ladies would not satisfy your fastidious
taste.’ *

«T*o lady in the world could satisfy
me except one,’ I answered, thinking she
took it a little too lightly.

‘Ah, so you say,’ she said. 'And yet
I don’t suppose you would do anything
for me, Mr Martin ? ’

‘It would be my greatest happiness,’
I cried.

She said nothing, but stood there, biting
the rose.

‘Grve it me,’ I said; ‘it shall be my
badge of service.’

‘You will serve me, then?’ said she.

• ‘For what reward?’

‘•Why, the* rose!’

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 5s #

* I should like the owner too,’ I ven-
tured to remark. .

‘ The rose is t prettier man the owner,’
she said ; * and, at anyrate, one thing at
a time, Mr Martin! Do you pay your
servants all their wages in advance?’ •

My practice was so much the contrary
that I really couldn’t deny the force of
her reasoning. She held out the fose.

I seized it and pressed it close to my lips,
thereby squashing it considerably.

‘ Dear me,’ said the Signorina, ‘ I wonder
if I had given you the other thing whether
you would have treated it so roughly.’

* I’ll show you in a moment,’ said I.

* Thank you, no, not just now,’ she said,
showing no alarm, for she knew she was
safe with me. Then she said abruptly,

‘Are you a Constitutionalist . or a
Liberal, Mr Martin?’

I must explain that, in the usual race
for the former title, the President's party
had been first at. the post,' and. the

A MAN OF MARK

5 «-

Colonel’s gang (as I privately termed it)
had to put up with the alternative desig-
nation. Neither name bpre any relation
to facts.

* Are we going to talk politics ? ’ said I,
reproachfully.

‘Yes, a little; you see we got to an
impasse on the other topic. Tell me.’
“Which are you, Signorina?’ I asked.
I really wanted to know*; so did a great
many people.

She thought for a moment, and then
said,

‘ I have a great regard for the President.
He has been most kind to me. He has
shown me real affection.’

'The devil he has!’ I muttered.

'I beg your pardon?’ said she.

' I gnly said “ Of course he has.” The
President has the usual complement of
eyes.’

\ The Signorina smiled again, but went
on if I hadn’t spoken.

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION S7 #

‘On the other hand, I cannot disguise
from myself that f some ,,of his measures
are not wise.’ ,

I said 1 had never been able to disguise
it from myself.

‘ The Colonel, of course, is of the same
opinion,’ she continued. 1 About the debt,
for instance. I believe your bank is in-
terested in it ? '

This was n© secret, so 1 said,

‘Oh, yes, to a considerable extent.’

‘ And you ? ’ she asked, softly.

‘Oh, I am not a capitalist; no money
of mine has gone into the debt.’

‘No money of yours, no. But aren't
you interested in it?’ she persisted.

This wasTather odd. Could she know
anything ?

She drew nearer to me, and, laying a
hand lightly on my arm, said reproach-
fully,

‘ Do you love people, and yet not trust
them, Mr Martin ? ’

.58

A MAN OF MARK

This was exactly my state of feeling
towards the Sigqorina, ^but I could not say
so. I was wondering how, far I should be
wise to trust her, and that depended largely
on how far his Excellency had seen fit to
trust her with my secrets. I said finally,

‘ Without disclosing other people’s
secrets,* Signorina, I may admit that if
anything went wrong with the debt
my employers’ opinion of* my discretion
would be severely shaken.’

‘ Of your discretion ,’ she said, laughing.
* Thank you, Mr Martin. And you would
wish that not to happen ? ’

* I would take a good deal of pains to
prevent its happening.’

' Not less willingly if your interest and
mine coincided ? ’

I was about to make a passionate reply
when we heard the President's voice
saying,

. ‘And where is our hostess? I should
liko to thank her before I go.’

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 59 ,

‘ Hush/ whispered the Signorina. ‘ We
must go back. Yqu will* be true to me,
Mr Martin ? ’ <

* Call me Jack,’ said I, idiotically.

‘ Then you will be true, O Jack ? ’ she
said, stifling a laugh.

‘ Till death/ said I, hoping it would not
be necessary. *

She gave me her hand, which I kissed
with fervour, arfd we returned to the ‘salon/
to find all the players risen from the
table and standing about in groups, wait-
ing to make their bows till the President
had gone through that ceremony. I was
curious to hear if anything passed between
him and the Signorina, but I was pounced
upon by Donna Antonia, the daughter of
the Minister of Finance, who h a PP ene d
to be present, notwithstanding the late
hour, as a guest of the Signorina’s for the
night. She wa£ a handsome young lady,
a Spanish brunette of the approved
pattern, but with manners* formed at a

6o

A MAN OF MARK

New York boarding-school, where she had
undergone a tKainingv that had tempered
without destroying her mative gentility.
She had distinguished me very favourably,
and I was vain enough to suppose she
honoured me by some jealousy of my
penchant for the Signorina.

‘ I hfope you have enjoyed yourself in
the conservatory/ she said maliciously.

‘ We were talking business, Donna
Antonia/ I replied.

‘Ah, business! I hear of nothing but
business. There is papa gone down to
the country, and burying himself alive to
work out some great scheme of business ! ’

I pricked up my ears.

‘ Ah, what scheme is that ? ’ I asked.

* Oh ! I don’t know. Something about
that horrid debt. But I was told not to
say anything about it!'

The debt was becoming a bore. The
.whole air was full of it. I hastily paid
Donna Antonia a few incoherent compK-

OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION 61

ments, and took my leave. As I was
putting on my coat Colonel McGregor
joined me and, with more friendliness than
he usually showed me, accompanied me
down the avenue towards the Piazza.
After some indifferent remarks he begaif,

‘ Martin, you and I have separate
interests in some matters, but t think
we have the same in others.’

I knew at orfce what he meant : it was
that debt over again !

I remained silent, and he continued,

‘ About the debt, for instance. You are
interested in the debt ? ’

‘ Somewhat,’ said I. ‘A banker gener-
ally is interested in a debt.’

‘ I thought so,’ said the Colonel. * A
time may come when we can act jtogether.
Meanwhile, keep your eye on the 'debt
Good-night.’

We parted a; the door of his chambers
in the Piaz.za, and I went on to my lodg-
ings.

62

A MAN OF MARK

As I got into bed, rather puzzled and
very uneasy, I* damned the debt. Then,
remembering that the debt was, as it
seemed, for some reason a common
interest to the Signorina and myself, I
apologized to it, and fell asleep.

CHAPTER’ V

I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION

T HE flight of time brought no allevia-
tion to the troubles of Aureataland.
If an individual hard-up is a pathetic
sight, a nation hard-up is an alarming
spectacle ; and Aureataland was very
hard-up. I suppose somebody had some
money. But the Government had none ;
in consequence the Government employes
had none, the officials had . none, the
President had none, and finally,* I had
none. The bank had a little — of other
people’s, of (purse — but I was quite pre-
pared for a ‘ run ’ on us any day, and had
•cabled to t the Directors to implore* re-

64

A MAN OF MARK

mittance in cash, for our notes were at
a discount humiliating to contemplate*
Political strife ran high. I dropped into
the House of Assembly one afternoon
towards the end of May, and, looking
down from the gallery, saw the Colonel
in the full tide of wrathful declamation.
He was demanding of the miserable Don
Antonio when the army was to be paid.
The latter sat cowering under his scorn,
and would, I verily believe, have bolted
out of the House had he not been nailed
to his seat by the cold eye of the
President, who was looking on from his
box. The Minister on rising had nothing
to urge but vague promises of speedy
payment; but he utterly lacked the con-
fident effrontery of his chief, and nobody
was deceived by his weak protestations.

1 left the House in a considerable uproar,
and strolled on to the house of a friend
of* mine, one Madame Devarges, the
widow of a French gentleman , who had*

I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION 6s .

found his way to Whittingham from New
Caledonia. Politeness 'demanded the
assumption that he had found his way
to New Caledonia owing to political
troubles, but the usual cloud hung over
the precise date and circumstances of
his patriotic sacrifice. Madame some-
times considered it necessary to bore
herself and others with denunciations of
the various tyrants or would-be tyrants
of France; but, apart from this pious
offering on the shrine of her husband’s
reputation, she was a bright and pleasant
little woman. I found assembled round
her tea-table a merry party, including
Donna Antonia, unmindful of her father’s
agonies, and one Johnny Carr, who de-
serves mention as being the only* honest
man in Aureataland. I speak, of course,
of the place as I found it. He was a
young Englishman, what they call a
‘ cadet,’ of a good family, shipped off*
with a couple of .thousand pounds* to

66

A MAN OF MARK

make his fortune. Land was cheap
among us, and Johnny had bought an
estate and settled down *as a landowner.
Recently he had blossomed forth as a
keen Constitutionalist and a devoted
admirer of the President’s, arid held a
seat in the Assembly in that interest.
Johnny was not a clever man nor a
wise one, but he was merry, and, as I
have thought it necessafy to mention,
honest

‘ Hullo, Johnny ! Why not at the
House?’ said I to him. ‘You’ll want
every vote to-night Be off and help
the Ministry, and take Donna Antonia
with you. They’re eating up the Minister
of Finance.’

‘All right! I’m going as soon as I’ve
had Another muffin/ said Johnny. ‘ But
what’s the row about ? ’

• ‘ Well, they want their money,’ I re-
plied ; ‘ and Don Antonio won’t give it
them. Hence bad feeling.’

I APPRECI ATE THE SITUATION 67

‘ Tell you what it is/ said Johnny ; ‘ he
hasn't got a — '

Here Donna 'Antonia struck in, rather
suddenly, I thought.

‘ Do stop the gentlemen talking politics,
Madame Devarges. TheyUl spoil our
tea-party.’

‘ Your word is law,’ I said ; ‘ l ut

should like to know what Don Antonio
hasn’t got/

‘Now do be quiet,’ she rejoined; ‘isn't
it quite enough that he has got — a charm-'
ing daughter?’

‘And a most valuable one,’ I replied
with a bow, for I saw that for some
reason 'or other Donna Antonia did not
mean to let me pump Johnny Carr, and
I wanted to pump him.

' Don’t say another word, Mr Carr,*’ she
said, with a laugh. ‘ You know you don’t
know anything, do you ? ’

‘ Good Lord, no ! ’ said Johnny.

Meanwhilq Madam 6 Devarges was gfv-

68

A MAN OF MARK

ing me a cup of tea. As she handed it
to me, she saicl in a* low voice, •

‘ If I were his friend I 'should take care
Johnny didn’t know anything, Mr Martin.’

* If I were his friend I should take care
he told mo what he knew, Madame
Devarges,’ I replied.

‘ Perhaps that’s what the Colonel thinks,’
she said. ‘Johnny has just been telling
us how very attentive he has become.
And the Signorina too, I hear.’

‘You don’t mean that?’ I exclaimed.

‘ But, after all, pure kindness, no doubt ! ’

‘You have received many attentions
from those quarters,’ she said. ‘ No
doubt you are a good judge of the
motives.'

‘ Don’t, now don’t be disagreeable,’ said
I. * I came here for peace.’

‘ Poor young man ! Have you lost all
your money? Is it possible that you, like
Don Aijtonio, haven’t got a — ? ’

* ‘ What is ’going ’to happen ? ' I ask'ed,

I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION 69

for Madame Devarges often had informa-
tion.

‘ I don’t know,’ she said. ' But if I
owned National Bonds, I should sell.’

‘ Pardon me, madame ; you would offer
to sell.’

She laughed, saying,

* Ah, I see my advice comes too 4ate ! ’

I did not see any need to enlighten
her farther. So I passed on to Donna
Antonia, who had sat somewhat sulkily
since her outburst. I sat down by her
and said,

‘ Surely I haven’t offended you ? ’

‘You know you wouldn’t care if you had,’
she said, with a reproachful but not unkind
glance. ‘ Now, if it were the Signorina — ’
I never object to bowing dowq in the
temple of Rimmon, so I said,

‘ Hang the Signorina ! ’

‘If I thought you meant that,’ said
Donna' Antonia, ‘ I might be able to help
you.’

7o

A MAN OF MARK

‘ Do I want help ? ’ I asked.

‘ Yes,’ said she.

‘ Then suppose I do mean it ? ’

Donna Antonia refused to be frivolous.
With a look of genuine distress she
said,

‘ You will not let your real friends save
you, Mr Martin. You know you want
help. Why don’t you consider the state
of your affairs ? ’ *

‘ In that, at least, my friends in Whitt-
ingham are very ready to help me,’ I
answered, with some annoyance.

‘ If you take it in that way,’ she replied
sadly, ‘ I can do nothing.’

I was rather touched. Clearly she
wished to be of some use to me, and for
a moment I thought I might do better to
tear myself free from my chains, and turn
to the refuge opened to me. But I could
not do this ; and, thinking it would be
^rather mean to take advantage of her
interest in me. only to use it for my own

I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION 71

purposes, I yielded to conscience and
said,

‘Donna Antonia, I will be straight-
forward with you. You can only help
me if I accept your guidance ? I can’t do
that I am too deep in.’ . .

'Yes, you are deep in, and eager to
be deeper,’ she said. ‘ Well, so b& it. If
that is so I cannot help you.’

* Thank you for your kind attempt,’ said
I. ‘I shall very likely be sorry some day
that I repulse it. I shall always be glad
to remember that you made it.’

She looked at me a moment, and said,

* We have ruined you among us.’

‘ Mind, body, and estate ?’

She made no reply, and I saw my return
to flippancy wounded her. So I jose and
took my leave. Johnny Carr went with
me.

‘ Things look queer, eh, old man ? ’ said
he. ' But the President will pull through
in spite of the Colonel and bis Signorina.’

72

A MAN OF MARK

‘Johnny,’ said I, ‘you hurt my feelings ;
but, still I will give you a piece of advice.’

‘ Drive on,’ said Johnny.

‘ Marry Donna Antonia,’ said I. ‘ She’s
a good girl and a clever girl, and won’t let
you get drunk or robbed.’

* By Jove, that’s not a bad idea,’ said he.

‘ Why don’t you do it yourself ? ’

‘ Because I’m like you, Johnny — an ass,’
I replied, and left him wondering why, if
he was an ass and I was an ass, one ass
should marry Donna Antonia, and not both
or neither.

As I went along I bought the Gazette ,
the Government organ, and read therein : —

‘At a Cabinet Council this afternoon,
presided over by his Excellency, we under-
stand *that the arrangements connected
with the National Debt formed the subject
of discussion. The resolutions arrived at
jtre at present strictly confidential, but we
have the best authority for stating that the

I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION

73

measures to be adopted will have the effect
of materially alleviatihg the*present tension,
and will afford ilnmixed satisfaction to the
immense majority of the citizens of Aure-
ataland. The President will once again
be hailed as the Saviour ok his country^.’

‘ I wonder if the immense majofity will
include me,’ said I. ‘I think I will go
and see his Excellency.’

Accordingly, the next morning I took
my way to the Golden House, where I
learnt that the President was at the
Ministry of Finance. Arriving there, I
sent in my card, writing thereon a humble
request for a private interview. I was
ushered into Don Antonio’s room, where I
found the Minister himself, the President,
and Johnny Carr. As I entered and the
servant, on a sign from his Excellency,
placed a chair . for me, the latter said
rather stiffly,

•‘As I presume this is a business visit,

74

A MAN OF MARK

Mr Martin, it is more regular that I should
receive you in \he presence of one of my
constitutional advisers. Mr Carr is acting
as my secretary, and you can speak freely
before him.’

* I was annoyed at failing in my attempt
to see the President alone, but not wishing
to shovf it, I merely bowed and said,

‘I venture to intrude on your Excel-
lency, in consequence of a* letter from my
Directors. They inform me that, to use
their words, “disquieting rumours” are
afloat on the Exchanges in regard to the
Aureataland loan, and they direct me to
submit to your Excellency the expediency
of giving some public notification relative
to the payment of the interest falling due
next month. It appears from their com-
munication that it is apprehended that
some difficulty may occur in the matter.’

‘ Would not this application, if necessary
at all, have been more properly made to
the Ministry *of Finance in the first m-

I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION 75

stance ? ’ said the President. * These
details hardly fall wflthin my province.’

‘ I can only follow my instructions, your
Excellency,’ I replied.

'Have you any objection, Mr Martin,’
said the President, ‘to allowing myself
and my advisers to see this letter?’

‘ I am empowered to submit it only to
your Excellency’s own eye.’

‘Oh, only to ’my eye,’ said he, with an
amused expression. ' That was why the
interview was to be private ? ’

‘ Exactly, sir,’ I replied. ‘ I intend no
disrespect to the Minister of Finance or
to your secretary, sir, but I am bound by
my orders.’

‘You are an exemplary servant, Mr
Martin. But I don’t think I need' trouble
you about it further. Is it a cable ? ’ *

He smiled so wickedly at this question
that I saw he .had penetrated my little
fiction. However, I only said,

A letter, sir.’

7 6

A MAN OF MARK

‘ Well, gentlemen,’ said he to the others,
* I think we may reassure Mr Martin.
Tell your Directors this, Mr Martin.
The Government does not see any need
of a public notification, and none will be
made. I think we agree, gentlemen, that
to acknowledge the necessity of any such
action would be highly derogatory. But
assure them that the President has stated
to you, Mr Martin, persbnally, with the
concurrence of his advisers, that he antici-
pates no difficulties in your being in a
position to remit the full amount of
interest to them on the proper day.’

‘ I may assure them, sir, that the interest
will be punctually paid ? ’

‘ Surely I expressed myself in a manner
you could understand,’ said he, with the
slightest emphasis on the ‘ you.’ ‘ Aureata-
land will meet her obligations. You will
receive all your due, Mr Martin. That is
so, gentlemen ? ’

©on Antbnio acquiesced at once.

I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION

77

Johnny Carr, I noticed, said nothing and
fidgeted rather uneisily iA his chair. I
knew what the* President meant. He
meant, ‘If we don’t pay, pay it out of
your reserve fund.’ Alas, the reserve
fund was considerably diminished ; I had
enough, and just enough, left to pay the
next instalment if I paid none of ihy own
debts. I felt very vicious as I saw his
Excellency taking keen pleasure in the
consciousness of my difficulties (for he
had a shrewd notion of how the land lay),
but of course I could say nothing. So I
rose and bowed myself out, feeling I had
gained nothing, except a very clear con-
viction that I should not see the colour of
the President’s money on the next interest
day. True, I could just pay myself. But
what would happen next time? And if
he wouldn’t pay, and I couldn’t pay, the
game would bp up. As to the original
loan, it is true I had no responsibility ; but
then, if no interest-’ we re paid, the fact that

7 »

A MAN OF MARK

I had applied the second loan, my loan, in
a manner different from that which my in-
structions authorised and* my own reports
represented, would be inevitably discovered.
And my acceptance of the bonus, my deal-
ings with the reserve fund, my furnishing
inaccurate returns of investments, all this
would/ 1 knew, look rather queer to people
who didn’t know the circumstances.

When I went back to the bank, revolv-
ing these things in my mind, I found
Jones employed in arranging the corre-
spondence, It was part of his duty to see
to the preservation and filing of all letters
arriving from Europe, and, strange to say,
he delighted in the task. It was part of
my duty to see he did his ; so I sat down
and began to turn over the pile of letters
and ‘messages which he had put on my
desk; they dated back two years; this
surprised me, and I said, .

* Rather behindhand, aren’t you, Jones ? ’

'Yes, sir, father.* Fact is, I’ve do'ne

I APPRECIATE T^E SITUATION 79

’em before, but as I isu’ve never initialled
’em, I thought I /tight fo bring ’em to
your notice.' *

‘Quite right — neglectful of me.

I suppose they’re all right?’

‘ Yes, sir, all right.’

‘ Then I won’t trouble to go through
them.’

‘They’re all there, sir,- except, of course,
the cable about the second loan, -sir.’

‘ Except what ? ’ I said.

‘ The cable about the second loan,’ he
repeated.

I was glad to be reminded of this,
for of course I wished to remove that
document before the bundle finally took
its place among the archives. Indeed,

I thought I had done so. -But why
had Jones removed it? Surely ‘Jones
was not as sceptical as that?

* Ah, and where have you put that ? ’

‘Why, sir, his Excellency took that.’

‘ What ? ’ I cried.

89

A MAN OF MARK

‘ Yes, sir. Didn’t I mention it ? Why,
the day after yt»u and the President were
here that night, his Excellency came down
in the afternoon, when you’d gone out

to the Piazza, and said he wanted it. He

«

said, sir, that ycu’d said it was to go to
the Ministry of Finance. He was very
affable , 0 sir, and told me that it was
necessary the original should be submitted
to the Minister for his inspection; and as
he was passing by (he’d come in to cash
a cheque on his private account) he’d
take it up himself. Hasn’t he given it
back to you, sir? He said he would.’

I had just strength enough to gasp
out,

' Slipped his memory, no doubt. All
right, Jones.’

' May I go now, sir ? ’ said Jones. ‘ Mrs
Jones wanted me to go with her to — ■

.‘Yes, go,’ said I, and as he went out,

. I added a destination different no doubt .
from what the* good lady had proposed;

I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION 81

For I saw it all now. That old villain
(pardon my warmth) had stolen my forged
cable, and, if need arose, meant to produce
it as his own justification. I had been
done, done brown — and Jones’s idiocy had
made the task easy. I had no evidence
but my word that the President knew
the message* was fabricated. ¥p till
now I had thought that if I stood con-
victed I should .have the honour of his
Excellency’s support in the dock. But
now! — why now, I might prove myself
a thief, but I couldn’t prove him one*
I had convinced Jones, not for my good,
but for his. I had forged papers, not
for my good, but for his. True, I had
spent the money myself, but —

‘ Damn it all,’ I cried in th<e bitter-
ness of my spirit, ‘he won about three-
quarters of that!’

And his Excellency’s words came back
to my memory, 1 1 make the most of my
oppprtunities.’

Chapter vi

* MOURONS I’OUR LA FATRIE !

T HE next week wag a busy one for
me. I spent it in scraping together
every bit of cash I could lay my hands on.
If I could get together enough to pay the
interest on the 300,000 dollars supposed to
be invested in approved securities — really
disposed of in a manner only known to his
Excellency — I should have six months to
look about me. Now remaining out of
my bonus ’ was nil, out of my * reserve
fund’ 10,000 dollars. This was enough.
But, alas, how happened it that this sum
was in my hands ? ‘Because I had
borrowed 5000 from the bank! If they

MOURONS POUR LA PATRIE !

83

wouldn’t let their own manager overdraw,
whom would they ? So I overdrew. But
if this money hasn’t back before the
monthly balancing, Jones would know!
And I dared not rely on being able to
stop his mouth again. When l said Johnny
Carr was the only honest man in Aureata-
land I forgot Jones. To my grfef and
annoyance Jones also was honest, and
Jones would consider it his duty to let
the Directors know of my overdraft. If
once they knew, I was lost, for an over-
draft effected privately from the safe by
the manager is, I do not deny it, decidedly
irregular. Unless I could add 51 >00
dollars to my 10,000 before the end of
the month I should have to bolt!

This melancholy conclusion was rein-
forced and rendered demonstrable by a
letter which arrived, to crown my woes,
from my respected father, informing me
that he had unhappily become indebted
to our Chairman in the sum of £ 2000 ,

8 4

A MAN OF MARK

the result of a deal between them, that he
had seen the Chairman, that the Chair-
man was urgent for payiAent, that he used
most violent language against our family
in general, ending by declaring his inten-
tion of stopping my salary to pay the
parental debt. * If he doesn’t like it he
may gd, and small loss.’ This was a most
unjustifiable proceeding, but I was hardly
in a position to take up a high moral
attitude towards the Chairman, and in the
result I saw myself confronted with the
certainty of beggary and the probability
of gaol. But for this untoward reverse of
fortune I might have taken courage and
made a clean breast of my misdoings, re-
lying on the Chairman’s obligations to my
father to pull me through. But now, where
was l I? I was, as Donna Antonia put
it, very deep in indeed. So overwhelmed
was I by my position, and so occupied
with my frantic efforts to improve it, that
I did not even find time to go and see the

MOURONS POUR LA PATRIE !

8S

Signorina, much as I needed comfort;
and, as the days went on, I fell into such
despair that I went nowhere, but sat
dismally in my own rooms, looking at
my portmanteau, and wondering how
soon I must pack and fly, if not for life*
at least for liberty.

At last the crash came. I was sitting in
my office one morning, engaged in the
difficult task of* trying to make ten into
fifteen, when I heard the clatter of hoofs.

A moment later the door was opened,
and Jones ushered in Colonel McGregor.
I nodded to the Colonel, who came in
with his usual leisurely step, sat himself
down, and took off his gloves. I roused
myself to say,

‘ What can I do for you, Colon’el ? ’

He waited till the door closed behind
Jones, and then said,

‘ I've got to the bottom of it at last,
Martin.’

This was true_ of myself also, but

86

A MAN OF MARK

the Colonel, meant it in a different
sense.

‘ Bottom of what ? ’ I asked, rather
testily.

‘That old scamp’s villainy, ’ said he,
jerking his "thumb towards the Piazza
and the statue of the Liberator. * He’s
very ’cute, but he’s made a mistake at
' last.’

‘ Do come to the ‘point, Colonel.
What’s it all about?’

‘ Would you be surprised to hear,’ said
the Colonel, adopting a famous mode
of speech, ‘that the interest on the
debt would not be paid on the 31st?’

‘No, I shouldn’t,’ said I, resignedly.

‘Would you be surprised to hear that
no more interest would ever be paid?’

‘ The devil ! ’ I cried, leaping up.
‘ What do you mean, man ? ’

‘The President,’ said tie, calmly, ‘will,
on the 31st instant, repudiate the National
Debt!'

MOURONS POUR LA PATRIE !

»7

I had nothing left to say. I fell back
in my chair, and gazed at the Colonel,
who was now 'employed in lighting a
cigarette. At the same moment a sound
of rapid wheels struck on my ears. Then
I heard the sweet clear voice I knew
so well saying,

‘ I’ll just disturb him for a moment, Mr
Jones. I want him to tear himself from-
work for a day* and come for a ride.'

She opened my door, and came swiftly
in. On seeing the Colonel she took in
the position, and said to that gentleman,

* Have you told him ? ’

* I have just done so, Signorina,’ he
replied.

I had not energy enough to greet
her; so she also sat down 'uninvited,
and took off her gloves — not lazily? like
the Colonel, but with an air as though
she would, if a man, take off her coat,
to meet the crisis more energetically.

•At last I said, with conviction,

88

A MAN OF MARK

‘ He’s a wonderful man ! How did
you find it out, Colonel ? ’

* Had Johnny Carr to dine and made
him drunk,’ said that worthy.

‘You don’t mean he trusted Johnny?’
• ' Odd, isn’t it ? ’ said the Colonel.
‘ With his experience, too. He might
have known Johnny was an ass. I
•suppose there was no one else.’

' ‘ He knew,’ said the Signorina, ‘anyone
else in the place would betray him ; he
knew Johnny wouldn’t if he could help it.
He underrated your powers, Colonel.’

* Well,’ said I, * I can’t help it, can I ?
My Directors will lose. The Bond-
holders will lose. But how does it hurt
me?’

The Colonel and the Signorina both
smiled gently.

‘You do it very well, Martin,’ said
the former, ‘but it will save time if I
state that both Signorina Nugent and
myself are possessed of the details re-

MOURONS POUR LA PATRIE !

89

garding the — ’ (the Colonel paused, and
stroked his moustache.)

‘ The second loan,’ said the Sig-
norina.

I was less surprised at this, recollect-
ing certain conversations.

* Ah, and {low did you find that out ? ’
I asked.

‘ She told me,’ said the Colonel, indi-
cating his fair rteighbour.

‘ And may I ask how you found it
out, Signorina ? ’

‘ The President told me,’ said that lady.

‘ Did you make him drunk ? ’

‘No, not drunk,’ was her reply, in a
very demure voice, and with downcast
eyes.

We could guess how it had been done,
but neither of us cared to pursue* the
subject. After a pause, I said,

‘Well, as you, both know all about it,
it’s no good keeping up pretences. It’s
veiy kind of you to come and warn me.’

go

A MAN OF MARK

‘You dear^good Mr Martin,’ said the
Signorina, ‘ our motives are not purely
those of friendship.’

‘Why, how does it matter to you?’

‘Simply this,’ said she, ‘the bank and
its excellent manager own most of the
debt. The Colonel and I own the rest.
If it fs repudiated, the bank loses ; yes,
but the manager and the Colonel and
the Signorina N ugent are lost ! ’

‘ I didn’t know this,’ I said, rather
bewildered.

‘Yes,’ said the Colonel, ‘when the first
loan was raised I lent him 100,000 dollars.
We were thick then, and I did it in re-
turn for my rank and my seat in the
Chamber. Since then I’ve bought up
some more shares.’

‘You got them cheap, I suppose?’
said I.

‘ Yes,’ he replied, I averaged them at
about 75 cents the five-dollar share.’

•‘And what do you hold now, nominal?’

MOURONS POUR LA PATRIE !

9 1

‘Three hundred thousand ^dollars,’ said
he, shortly.

‘ 1 understand your interest in the
matter. But you, Signorina ? ’

The Signorina appeared a little embar-
rassed. But at last she broke out —

‘ I don’t care if I do tell you. When I
agreed to stay here, he ’ (we knew* whom
she meant) ‘gave me 100,000 dollars.'
And I had 50,060, or thereabouts, of my
own that I had — ’

‘ Saved out of your salary as a prima
donna,’ put in the Colonel.

‘What does it matter?’ said she,
flushing ; ‘ I had it. Well, then, what
did he do ? He persuaded me to put
it all — the whole 150,000 — into his
horrid debt. Oh! wasn’t it mean, Mr
Martin ? ’

The President had certainly combined
business and pleasure in this matter.

‘ Disgraceful ! ’ I remarked.

'And if that goes,* I am penniless —

92

A MAN OF MARK

penniless. And there’s poor aunt. What
will she do?’

‘ Never mind your aunt,’ said the
Colonel, rather rudely. ‘Well,’ he went
on, ‘you see we’re in the same boat
‘with you, Martin.'

‘ Yes ; and we shall soon be in the same
deep Water ,’ said I.

‘ Not at all,’ said the Colonel.

‘ Not at all,’ echoed the Signorina.

‘ Why, what on earth are you going to
do?’

* Financial probity is the backbone of a
country,’ said -the Colonel. ‘Are we to
stand by and see Aureataland enter on
the shameful path of repudiation?’

‘Never!’ cried the Signorina, leaping
up with sparkling eyes. 1 Never ! ’

She looked enchanting. But business
is business ; and I said again,

‘ What are you going to do ? ’

‘ We are going, with your help, Martin,
to .prevent this national disgrace. We -are

KlOURONS POUR LA PATRIE !

93

going — ’ he lowered his voice, — uselessly,
for the Signorina struck in, in a high
merry tone, waving her gloves over head
and dancing a little pas seul on the floor
before me, with these remarkable words, —

‘Hurrah for the Revolution! Hip!,
hip! hurrah!’

She looked like a Goddess of Freedom
in high spirits and a Paris bonnet. I
lost my mental .balance. Leaping up, I
grasped her round the waist, and we
twirled madly about the office, the Sig-
norina breaking forth into the 1 Marseil-
laise'

‘ For God’s sake, be quiet ! ’ said
McGregor, in a hoarse whisper, mak-
ing a clutch at me as I sped past him. ‘ If
they hear you ! Stop, I tell you, Christina.’

The Signorina stopped.

* Do you mean me, Colonel McGregor ? ’
she asked.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and that fool Martin,
too/

94

A MAN OF MARK

‘ Even in ^times of revolution, Colonel,’
said I, * nothing is lost by politeness. But
in substance you are right. Let us be
sober.’

We sat down again, panting, the Sig-
norina between her gasps still faintly
humming the psalm of liberty.

‘ Kindly unfold your plan, Colonel,’ I
• resumed. ‘ I am aware that out here you
think little of revolutions, but to a new-
comer they appear to be matters requiring
some management. You 'see we are only
three.’

* I have the army with me,’ said he,
grandly.

‘In the outer office?’ asked I, indulg-
ing in a sneer at the dimensions of the
Aureataland forces.

‘ Look here, Martin,’ he said, scowling,

4 if you’re coming in with us, keep your
jokes to yourself.’

4 Don’t quarrel, gentlemen,' said the
Signorina. 4 It’s vyaste of time. Tell

MOURONS POUR LA PATRIE ! 95

him the plan, Colonel, while I’m getting
cool.’

1 saw the wisdom of this advice, so I
said,

' Your pardon, Colonel. But won’t this
repudiation be popular with the army ?
If he lets the debt slide, he can pay
them.’

‘ Exactly,’ said he. * Hence we must
get at them before that aspect of the case
strikes them. They are literally starving,
and for ten dollars a man they would make
Satan himself President. Have you got
any money, Martin?’

‘Yes,’ said I, ‘a little.

‘How much?’

‘Ten thousand,’ I replied ; ‘ I was keep-
ing it for the interest.’

‘Ah, you won’t want it now.

‘ Indeed l shall — for the second loan,
you know.'

‘ Look here, Martin ; give me that ten
thousand for the troops. Stand in with

g6

A MAN OF MARK

V

us, and the day I become President I’ll
give you back your 300,000. Just look
where you stand now. I don’t want to
be rude, but isn’t it a case of — ?’

‘Some emergency?’ said I, thoughtfully.
‘Yes, it is. But where do you suppose
you’re going to get 300,000 dollars, to
say nothing of your own shares?’

He drew his chair closer to mine, and,
leaning forward, said,

* He’s never spent the money. He’s
got it somewhere ; much the greater part,
at least.’

‘ Did Carr tell you that ? ’

‘ He didn’t know for certain ; but he
told me enough to make it almost certain.
Besides,’ he added, glancing at the Sig-
norina, 'we have other reasons for sus-
pecting it. Give me the ten thousand.
You shall have your loan back, and, if
you like, you shall be Minister of Finance.
Wfe practically know the ‘money’s there,
don’t we, Signorina?

MOURONS POUR LA PATRIE !

97

She nodded assent.

‘If’we fail?’ said I.

He drew a neat little revolver from his
pocket, placed it for a moment against
his ear, and re-pocketed it.

* Most lucidly explained, Colonel,’ said.
I. ‘Will you give me half-an-hour to
think it overV •

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You’ll excuse me it.
I stay in the onter office? Of course I
trust you, Martin, but in this sort, of
thing — •’

‘AH right, I see,’ said I. ‘And you,
Signorina ? ’

‘I’ll wait too,’ she said.

They both rose and went out, and I
heard them in conversation with Jones.

I sat still, thinking hard. But’ scarcely
a. moment had passed, when I heard* the
door behind me open. It fras the Si g-
norina. She came in, stood behind my
chair, and, leaning over, put her arms
round my neck.

G

98

A MAN OF MARK

I

I looked *p, and saw her face full of
mischief.

‘ What about the rose, Jack ? ’ she
asked.

I remembered. Bewildered with de-
light, and believing I had won her, I
said,

* Your soldier till death, Signorina.’

' Bother death ! ’ said she, saucily. ' No-
body’s going to die. Wte shall win, and
then — ! ’

‘ And then,’ said I, eagerly, * you’ll
marry me, sweet?’

She quietly stooped down and kissed
my lips. Then, stroking my hair, she
said,

‘You’re a nice boy, but you’re not a
good boy, Jack.’

‘Christina, you won’t marry him?’

, ‘Him?’

* McGregor,’ said I.

' Jack,’ said she, whispering now, ‘ I
hate him!’

MOURONS POUR LA PATRIEI 99

‘ So do I,* I answered promptly. ‘ And
if it’s to win you, I’ll upset a dozen
presidents.’

* Then 'j ou’ll do it for me ? I like to
think you'i. it for me, and not for- the
money.’

As the Signorina was undoubtedly
‘doing it’ for her money, this was a
shade unreasonable.

‘ I don’t mind the money coming in,’
I began.

* Mercenary wretch ! ’ she cried. ‘ I
didn’t kiss you, did I ? ’

‘ No,’, I replied. 1 You said you would
in a minute, when I consented.’

‘Very neat, Jack,’ she said. But she
went and opened the door and called to
McGregor, ‘ Mr Martin sees nb objec-
tion to the arrangement, and he will
come to dinner to-night, as you suggest,
and talk over the details. We’re all
going” to make our fortunes, Mr Jones,’
she went on, without* waiting for '.any

100

A MAN OF MARK

acceptance of her implied invitation, * and
when we’ve made ours, we’ll think about
you and Mrs Jones.’

I heard Jones making some noise in-
coherently suggestive of gratification, for
* he was as bad as any of us about the Sig-
norina, and then I was left to my reflec-
tions. These were less sombre than the
reader would, perhaps, anticipate. True,
I was putting my head into a noose ;
and if the President’s hands ever found
their way to the end of the rope, I fancied
he would pull it pretty tight. But, again,
I was immensely in love, and equally
in debt ; and the scheme seemed to open
the best chance of satisfying my love,
and the only chance of filling my pocket.
To^a young man, life without love isn't
worth much; to a man of any age, in
my opinion, life without money isn’t
worth much ; it becomes worth still less
when he is held to account for money
he ought to have. * So I cheerfully entered

MOURONS POUR LA PATRIE !

101

upon my biggest gamble, ^holding the
stake of life well risked. My pleasure in
the affair was only marred by the en-
forced partnership of McGregor. There
was no help for this, but I knew he wasn’t
much fonder of me than I of him, and .
I found myself gently meditating on the
friction likely to arise between tlfe new
President and his Minister of Finance,
in case our plahs succeeded. Still the
Signorina hated him, and by all signs
she loved me. So I lay back in my
* chair, and recalled my charmer’s presence
by whistling the hymn of liberty until
it was time to go to lunch, an observ-
ance not to be omitted evgn by con-
spirators.

CHAPTER VII

c

THE MINE IS LAID

T HE morning meeting had been de-
voted to principles and to the
awakening of enthusiasm ; in the evening
the conspirators condescended upon de-
tails, and we held a prolonged and anxious
conference at the Signorina’s. Mrs Car-
rington was commanded to have a head-
ache after dinner, and retired with it to
bed; and from ten till one we sat and
conspired. The result of our delibera-
tions was a very pretty plan, of which

the main outlines were as follows:

■* •

This was Tuesday. On Friday night,
the Colonel, with twenty determined

102

THE MINE IS LAID 103

ruffians (or resolute patriot^) previously
bound to him, body and soul, by a dona-
tion of no less than fifty dollars a man,
was to surprise the Golden House, seize
the person of the President and all cash
and securities on the premises ; no kill-
ing if it could be avoided, but on the
other hand no shilly-shally. McGregor
wanted to put the President out of the-
way at once, as* a precautionary measure,
but I strongly opposed this proposal,
and, finding the Signorina was absolutely
inflexible on the same side, he yielded.

1 had a strong desire to be present at
this midnight surprise, but another duty
called for my presence. There was a
gala supper at the barracks that , evening,
to commemorate some incident or other
in the national history, and I was to be
present and to reply to the toast of * The
Commerce of Aureataland.’ My task
was, at all hazards , to keep this party
going till the Cqbnel’s job was dohe,

104

A MAN OF MARK

when he wduld appear at the soldiers'
quarters, bribe in hand, and demand
their allegiance. Our knowledge of the
character of the troops made us regard
the result as a certainty, if once the Presi-
dent were a prisoner and the dollars before
their eyes. The Colonel and the troops
were to surround the officers’ messroom,
•and offer them life and largesse, or death
and destruction. Here dgain we antici-
pated their choice with composure. The
army was then to be paraded in the
Piazza, the town overawed or converted,
and, behold, the Revolution was accom-<
plished ! The success of this design
entirely depended on its existence re-
maining a dead secret from the one man
we feared, and on that one man being
found alone and unguarded at twelve
o’clock on Friday night. If he discovered
the plot, we were lost t If he took it
ihto his head to attend the supper, our
difficulties would be greatly increased.

THE MINE IS LAID

105

At this point we turned to the Signorina,
and I said, briefly,

‘This appears to be where you come
in, Signorina. Permit me to invite you
to dine with his Excellency on Friday
evening, at eight precisely.’

‘You mean 4 ’ she said slowly, ‘that I
am to keep him at home, and, bbt for
myself, alone, on Friday?’

* Yes,' said I. “Is there any difficulty ? ’

‘ I do not think there is great difficulty,’

she said, ‘but I don’t like it; it looks so
treacherous.’

Of course it . did. I didn’t like her
doing it myself, but how else was the
President to be secured?

‘ Rather late to think of that, isn’t it ? ’
asked McGregor, with a sneer. •* A re-
volution won’t run on high moral wheels.’

‘Think how he jockeyed you about
the money,’ said. I, assuming the part of
the tempter.

* By the way,’ said MoGregor, ‘ it’s under-

A MAN OF MARK

106

stood the Signorina enters into possession
of the President’s country villa, isn’t it ? ’

Now my poor Signorina had a longing
for that choice little retreat, and between
resentment for her lost money and a desire
for the pretty house on the one hand, and,
on the other, her dislike of the Delilah-like
part She was to play, she was sore beset.
Left to herself, I believe she would have
yielded to her better feelings and spoilt
the plot. As it was, the Colonel and I,
alarmed at this recrudescence of con-
science, managed to stifle its promptings,
and bent her to our wicked will.

‘After all, he deserves it,’ she said, ‘and
I’ll do it!’

It is always sad to see anybody suffering
from a loss of self-respect, so I tried to
restore the Signorina’s confidence in her
own motives by references to Jael the wife
of Heber the Kenite, Charlotte Corday,
and such other relentless heroines as
occurred to me. McGregor looked Upon

THE MINE IS LAID

107

this striving after self-justification with
undisguised contempt
1 It’s only making a fool of him again/ he
said ; * you’ve done it before, you know 1 ’

‘ I’ll do it, if you’ll swear not to— to hurt
him/ she said.

‘ I’ve promised already/ he replied sul-
lenly ; ‘ I won’f touch him, unless he brings
it on himself. If he tries to kill me, I sup- .
pose I needn’t bare my breast to the blow? ’

* No, no,’ I interposed ; * I have a regard
for his Excellency, but we must not let
our feelings betray us into weakness. He
must be taken — alive and well, if possible
— but in the last resort, dead or alive/

‘ Come, that’s more like sense/ said the
Colonel, approvingly.

The Signorina sighed, but opposed us
no longer. 0

Returning to ways and means, we
arranged for communication in case of
need during the ‘next three days without
the. necessity of rpeeting. My position,

io8 A MAN OF MARK

as the centre of financial business in
Whittingham, made this easy; the pas-
sage of bank messengers to and fro would
excite little remark, and the messages
could easily be so expressed as to reveal
. nothing to an uninstructed eye. It was
further agreed that on the smallest hint of
dange'r reaching any one of us, the word
. should at once be passed to the others,
and we should rendezvous at the Colonel’s
ranch,’ which lay some seven miles from
the town. Thence, in this lamentable
case, escape would be more possible.

‘ And now,’ said the Colonel, * if Martin
will hand over the dollars, I think that’s
about all.’

I had brought the 10,000 dollars with
me. I produced them and put them on
the table, keeping a loving hand on them.

‘ You fully understand my position,
Colonel ? ’ I said. ‘ This thing is no use to
me unless I receive at least 320,000 dollars,
to pay back principal, to meet interest, *and

THE MINE IS LAID

109

to replace another small debt to the bank.
If I do that, I shall be left with a net
profit of 5000 dollars, not an extravagant
reward. If I don’t get that sum I shall
be a defaulter, revolution or no revolution.’

‘ I can’t make money if it’s not there,’
he said, but without his usual brusqueness
of tone. * But to this we agree. You are
to have first turn at anything we find, up
to the sum you name. It’s to be handed
over solid to you. The Signorina and I
take the leavings. You don't claim to
share them too, do you?’

- ‘ No,’ I said, ‘ I'm content to be a
preference shareholder. If the money’s
found at the Golden House, it’s mine. If
not, the new Government, whatever it
may do as to the rest of the. debt, will
pay me that sum.’ »

With that I pushed my money over to
the Colonel.

‘ I expect the new Government to be
very considerate to the bondholders all

no

A MAN OF MARK

round,’ said the Colonel, as he pocketed
it with a chuckle. * Anyhow, your terms
are agreed, eh, Signorina ? ’

‘ Agreed ! ’ said she. * And I’m to have
the country seat ? ’

‘Agreed!’ said I. ‘And the Colonel’s
to be President and to have the Golden
Hou& and all that therein is.’

‘ Agreed ! agreed ! agreed ! ’ chanted the
Signorina ; * and that’s quite enough busi-
ness, and it’s very late for me to be enter-
taining gentlemen. One toast, and then
good-night. Success to the Revolution!
To be drunk in blood-red wine!’

As there was no red wine, except claret,
and that lies cold on the stomach at three
in the morning, we drank it in French
brandy. I had risen to go, when a sudden
thought struck me.

‘By* Jupiter! where’s Johnny Carr? I
say, Colonel, how drunk was he last night?
Do you think he remembers telling you
about it ? ’

THE MINE IS LAID

‘ Yes/ said the Colonel, ‘ I expect he
does by now. He didn’t when I left him
this morning.’

‘Will he confess to the President? If
he does, it might make the old man keep
an unpleasantly sharp eye on you. He.
knows you’ don’t love him.’

‘ Well, Carr hasn’t seen the President yet.
He was to stay at my house over to-day..
He was uncommon seedy this morning,
and I persuaded the doctor to give him a
composing draught. Fact is, I wanted
him quiet till I’d had time to think I You
know I don’t believe he would own up —
the President would drop on him so,; but
he might, and it’s better they shouldn't
meet.'

* There’s somebody else he oughtn’t to
meet/ said the Signorina.

‘Who’s that?’ 1 asked.

4 Donna Antonia/ she replied. 4 He’s
getting very fond of her, and depend upon
it, if he's in trouble hue’ll go and tell her

112

A MAN OF MARK

the first thing. Mr Carr is very confi-
dential to his friends.’

We recognised the value of this sugges-
tion. If Donna Antonia knew, the Pre-
sident would soon know.

. ‘Quite right,’ said the Colonel. ‘It
won’t do to have him rushing about
letting* out that we know' all about it.
He’s all right up to now.’

‘Yes, but if he gets restive to-morrow
morning ? ’ said I. ' And then you don’t
want him at the Golden House on Friday
evening, and I don’t want him at the
barracks.’

‘ No, he’d show fight, Carr would,’ said
the Colonel. ‘ Look here, we’re in for this
thing, and I’m going through with it I
shall keep Carr at my house till it’s all over.’

<*How ? ’ asked the Signorina.

‘ By love, if possible ! ’ said the Colonel,
with a grin — ‘that is, by drink. Fading
that, by force. It’s essential that the old
man shouldn’t get wind of anything being

THE MINE IS LAID

”3

up ; and if Carr told him about last night
he’d prick up his wicked old ears. No,
Master Johnny is better quiet’

‘Suppose he turns nasty,’ 1 suggested
again.

‘ He may turn as nasty as he likes,’ said,
the Colonel. 4 He don’t leave my house
unless he puts a bullet into me first
That’s settled. Leave it to me. If he be-
haves nicely, he’ll be all right. If not — ’

‘ What shall you do to him ? ’ asked the
Signorina.

I foresaw another outburst of conscience,
and though I liked Johnny, I liked myself
better. So I said,

‘Oh, leave it to the Colonel; he’ll
manage all right.’

‘ Now I’m off,' said the latter, ^ back to
my friend Johnny. Good-night, Signorina.
Write to the President to-morrow. Good-
night, Martin. Make that speech of yours
pretty long, An revoir till next Friday.’

I prepared to go, forjthe Colonel lingesed

' ■- •

H

A MAN OF MARK

114

till I came with him. Even then we so
distrusted one another that neither would
leave the other alone with the Signorina.

We parted at the door, he going off up
the road to get his horse and ride to his
. ‘ ranch,’ I turning down towards the Piazza.

We left the Signorina at t the door, look-
ing pale and weary, and for once bereft.of
her high spirits. Poor girl! She found
conspiracy rather trying ‘work.

I was a little troubled myself. I began
to see more clearly that it doesn’t do for a
man of scruples to dabble in politics. I
had a great regard for poor Johnny, and I
felt no confidence in the Colonel treating
him with any consideration. In fact, I
would not have insured Johnny’s life for
the next week at any conceivable premium.
Ajfain I thought it unlikely that, if we
succeeded, the President would survive his
downfall. I had to repeat to myself all the
story of his treachery to me, lashing myself
into a fury against .him, before I could

THE MINE IS LAID

”5

bring myself to think with resignation of
the imminent extinction of that shining
light. What a loss he would be to the
world! So many delightful stories, so
great a gift of manner, so immense a per-
sonal charm — all to disappear into the pit !
And for whati To put into his place a
ruffian without redeeming qualities. Was
it worth while to put down Lucifer only to
enthrone Beelzebub ? I could only check
this doleful strain of reflection by sternly
recalling myself to the real question — the
state of the fortunes of me, John Martin.
And to me the revolution was necessary.
I might get the money ; at least I should
gain time. And I might satisfy my love.
I was animated by the honourable motive
of saving my employers from loss and tyy
the overwhelming motive of my own pas-
sion. If the continued existence of Johnny
and the President was incompatible with
these legitimate objects, so much the worse
for Johnny and the ft-esldent.

CHAPTER VIII

JOIINNY CARR IS WILFUL

T HE 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 newsvendors, 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
fny. business with ap absent mind and a

116

JOHNNY CARR IS WILFUL 117

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 regis-
tered a vow never to upset a Government
again as long as 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 Presi-
dent went often to thq Ministry of Finance,

n8 A MAN OF MARK

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 bar-
racks; 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

JOHNNY CARR IS WILFUL 119

day, however, I was relieved of this neces-
sity. 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’s compliments, and are
you going there this morning?’

' My compliments to Mr Jones, and he
may expect me id five minutes,’ I replied.

The letters were all marked ‘Imme-
diate ’ — 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 honour to remind Mr John Mar-
tin that they hope to have the pleasure of
his company at supper this evening *at
10 p.m. precisely. In the unavoidable
absence of his Excellency the President,
owing to pressing cares of State, and of
the* Hon. Colonel' McGregor from indis-

120

A MAN OF MARK

position, the toast of the Army of Aureata-
land 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 cl 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
set amble. I enclose cheque. I am so
sorry you could not dine with me to-night,
but after all I am glad, J&cause I should
liave had to put you off, for I am com-
manded rather suddenly to dine at 'the

JOHNNY CARR IS WILFUL

xai

Golden House. With kind regards. — Be
lieve 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 enclose cheque for
500 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 qn his back and likely

122

A MAN OF MARK

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,’

JOHNNY CARR IS WILFUL 1*3

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 coloured, 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 every-
body,’ 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 1 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 thete
on Monday, and I daresay he stayed on.*

134

A MAN OF MARK

‘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 Antonja what I did not believe
to be true, but these ^things are incidental
to revolutions, a point of resemblance
between them and- commercial life.

JOHNNY CARR IS WILFUL 1*5

When I arrived at the bank I des-
patched 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 investigating 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 any* afternoon in mak-

126

A MAN OF MARK

ing final preparations. I burnt 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. im-
prudent conduct had contributed to in-
crease 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 re
volver, to ascertain whether the instru-
ment 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, .
tike it off again/ I . received a second

JOHNNY CARR IS WILFUL 1*7

note from the Colonel. It was brought
by a messenger, on a sweating horse,
who galloped up to my door. I knew
fhe 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 Carf a horse?’ I asked.

‘No, sir; left on foot.’

* But there are horse!* at his house ? *

128

A MAN OF MARK

*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 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 i( alive, sir, he said.
Well, up to yesterday it was all right and
pleasant. Mr Carr wasn’t very well; and

JOHNNY CARR IS WILFUL 129

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 yoif,” and began walking
towards 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. “Hullo, what’s this, Johnny?’’
says he. “You’ve got some damned
scheme on,” said Mr Carr. “1 believe
you’ve been drugging me. Out *of the
way, McGregor, . or I’ll brain you.”
“ Where are you gping ? ’’ says the Colonel.
“To Whittingham, to the President’s,”
said he. “Not to-day,” .says the Colonel*

1

130

A MAN OF MARK

“ 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 t 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 h*im 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 comfort-
able, and there he lay all night’

4 How did he get away to-day? ’

1 We were all out, sir — went over to Mr
Carr’s place to borrow his horses. *The

JOHNNY CARR IS WILFUL

13*

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’d 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, at)d
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 onqe got home, he.'s

132

A MAN OF MARK

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 rye,’ 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, tlie
conspiracy would probably lose my aid at
an early moment. What would happen
to me I didn’t know. But, as I took off
thy coat in the lobby, I bent down as if to
tie a shoestring, and had one more look at
itiy revolver.

CHAPTER IX

A SUPPER PARTY

I SHALL never forget that supper as
long as I live. Considered merely as
a social gathering it would be memorable
enough, for I never before or since sat
at meat with ten such queer customers as
my hosts of that evening. The officers
of the Aureataland Army were a very
mixed lot — two or three Spanish Ameri-
cans, three or four Brazilians, and the
balance Americans of the type their
countrymen are least proud of. If there
was an honest man among them he sedul-
ously concealed his title to distinction ; I
know, there wasn’t a sober one. The
amount of liquor consumed was portentous,

134

A MAN OF MARK

and I gloated with an unholy joy as I saw
man after man rapidly making himself
what diplomatists call a quantity negligtable.
The conversation needed all the excuse
the occasion could afford, and the wit
would have appeared unduly coarse in a
common pot-house. All this might have
passed from my memory, 6r blended in a
subdued harmony with my general im-
pression of Aureataland ? but the peculiar
position in which I stood gave to my
mind an unusual activity of perception.
Among this band of careless drunken
revellers I sat vigilant, restless and im-
patient ; feigning to take a leading part in
their dissolute hilarity, I was sober, col-
lected, and alert to my very finger-tips. I
anxiously watched their bearing and ex-
pression. I led them on to speak of the
President, rejoicing when I elicited open
murmurs and covert threats at his base

0

ingratitude to the men on whose support
hjs power rested. They had not been paid

A SUPPER PARTY

»35

for six months, and were ripe for any
mischief. I was more than once tempted
to forestall the Colonel and begin the
revolution on my own account; only my
inability to produce before their eyes any
arguments of the sort they would listen to
restrained me.

Eleven o’clotk had come and gone.
The Senior Captain had proposed the
President’s health* It was drunk in sullen
silence ; I was the only man who honoured
it by rising from his seat.

The Major had proposed the Army, and
they had drunk deep to their noble selves.
A young man of weak expression and
quavering legs had proposed, ‘The Com-
merce of Aureataland, coupled with the
name of Mr John Martin,’ in laudatory but
'incoherent terms, and I was on my legs
replying. Oh, that speech of mine ! For
discursiveness, for repetition, for sheer in-
anity, I suppose it has never been equalled.
I droned steadily away, interrupted only

136

A MAN OF MARK

by cries for fresh supplies of wine; as l-
went on the audience paid less and less
attention. It was past twelve. The well
of my eloquence was running drier and
drier, and yet- no sound outside! I won-
dered how long they would stand it and
how long I could stand it. At 12.15 I
began my peroration. Hardly had I done
so, when one of the young men started
in a gentle voice an utterly indescribable
ditty. One by one they took it up, till
the rising tide of voices drowned my
fervent periods. Perforce I stopped.
They were all on their feet now. Did
they mean to break up? In despair at
the idea I lifted up my voice, loud and
distinct (the only distinct voice left in the
room), -in the most shameful verse of that
skameful composition, and seizing my
neighbour’s hand began to move slowly
round the table. The move was success-
ful. Each man followed suit, and the
w|tole party, kicking back their chairs,

A SUPPER PARTY

*37

revolved with lurching steps round the
cUbris of empty bottles and cigar ashes.

The room was thick with smoke, and
redolent of fumes of wine. Mechanically
I led the chorus, straining' every nerve
to hear a sound from outside. I was
growing dizzy with the movement, and,
overwrought with the strain on my nerves,
I knew a few minutes more would be the
limit of endurance, when at last I heard
a loud shout and tumult of voices.

‘What’s that?’ exclaimed the Major,
in thick tones, pausing as he spoke.

I dropped his hand, and, seizing my
revolver, said,

* Some drunken row in barracks, Major.
Let ’em alone.’

‘ I must go,’ he . said. 4 Character —

Aureataland — Army — at stake.’

4 Set a thief to catch a thief, eh, Major ? ’
said I.

4 What do you mean, sir ? ’ he stuttered.

4 Let me go.'

138 A MAN OF MARK

* If you move, I shoot, Major,’ said I,
bringing out my weapon. I never saw
greater astonishment on human counten-
ance. He swore loudly, and then cried,

* Hi, stop him — he’s mad — he’s going to
shoot ! ’

9

A shout of laughter rose from the crew
around us, for they felt exqfiisite apprecia-
tion of my supposed joke.

' Right you are, Martin,’ cried one.
* Keep him quiet. We won’t go home
till morning ! ’

The Major turned to the window. It
was a moonlight night, and as I looked
with him I saw the courtyard full of
soldiers. Who was in command? The
answer to that meant much to me.

This sight somewhat sobered the
Major.

‘ A mutiny ! ’ he cried. * The soldiers
, have risen ! ’

* Go to bed,’ said the junior ensign.

4 Look out of window ! ’ he cried. „

A SUPPER PARTY

>39

They all staggered to the window. As
the soldiers saw them, they raised a shout.
I could not distinguish whether it was a
greeting or a threat. They took it as the
latter, and turned to the door.

* Stop ! ’ I cried ; ‘ I shoot the first man
who opens the door.’

In wonder they turned on me. I stood
facing them, revolver in hand. They
waited huddled together for an instant,
then made a rush at me ; I fired, but
missed. I had a vision of a poised de-
canter ; a second later, the missile caught
me in the chest and hurled me back
against the wall. As I fell I dropped my
weapon, and they were upon me. I
thought it was all over; but as they
surged round, in the madness of drink and
’ anger, I, looking through their ranks, saw
the door open and a -crowd of men rush in.
Who was at their head ? Thank God, it
was the Colonel, and his voice rose high
above the tumult,—*

140

A MAN OF MARK

‘ Order, gentlemen, order.’ Then to
his men he added,

‘ Each mark your man, and two of you
bring Mr Martin here.’

I was saved. To explain how, I must
# explain what had been happening at the
Golden House, and How the night attack
had fared. *

CHAPTER X
TtVO surprises

I T is a sad necessity that compels us to
pry into the weaknesses of our fellow-
creatures, and seek to turn them to our
own profit. I am not philosopher enough
to say whether this course of conduct
derives any justification from its univer-
sality, but in the region of practice I have
never hesitated to place myself on a
moral level with those with whom* I had
•to deal. I may occasionally even have
left the other party to make this needful
adjustment, and I have never known him
fail to do so. I *felt, therefore, very little
scruple in making use of the one weak
spot discoverable in the defences of cfur
141

14 *

A MAN OF MARK

redoubtable opponent, his Excellency the
President of Aureataland. No doubt the
reader’s eye has before now detected the
joint in that great man’s armour at which
we directed our missile. As a lover, I
* grudged the employment of the Signorina
in this service; as a politician, I was
proud of the device ; as a human being,
I recognised what we are very ready to
recognise, that it did not become me t6
refuse to work with such instruments as
appeared to be put into my hands.

But whatever may be the verdict of
moralists on our device, events proved
its wisdom. The President had no cause
to suspect a trap ; therefore, like a
sensible man, he chose to spend the
evening with the Signorina rather than,
with his gallant officers. With equally
good taste, he elected to spend it tele-d-
tite with her, when she gave him the
opportunity. In our subsequent con-
versations, the Signorina was not c6tn-

TWO SURPRISES

*43

municative as to how the early hoprs
of the evening passed. She preferred
to begin her narrative from the point
when their solitude was interrupted. As
I rely on her account and that of the
Colonel for this part of my story, I am
compelled to make my start from the
same moment. It appears that at a few
minutes past eleven o’clock, when the
President was peacefully smoking a cigar
and listening to the conversation of his
fair guest (whom he had galvanised into
an affected liveliness by alarming remarks
on her apparent pre-occupation), there
fell upon his ear the sound of a loud
knocking at the door. Dinner had been
served in a small room at the back of
the house, and the .President could not
command a view of the knocker with-
out going out on to the verandah, which
ran all round tfie house, and walking
round to the front. When the knock
was heard, the Signorina started up. .

144

A MAN OF MARK

‘ Don’t disturb yourself, pray,’ said his
Excellency politely. ‘ I gave special
instructions that I was visible to no one
this evening. But I was wondering
whether it could be Johnny Carr. I want
to speak to him for a moment, and I’ll
just go round outside and see if it is.’

As he spoke, a discreet tap was heard
at the door.

‘ Yes ? ' said the President.

‘ Mr Carr is at the door and particu-
larly wants to see your Excellency. . An
urgent matter, he says.’

‘Tell him I’ll come round and speak
to him from the verandah,’ replied the
President

He turned to the window, and threw
it open to step out.

• Let m6 tell what followed in the
Signorina’s words.

‘Just then we heard a sound of a
number of horses galloping up. The
President stopped, and said,

TWO SURPRISES

MS

Hullo, what's up ? ”

‘ Then there was a shout and a volley
of shots, and I heard the Colonel’s voice
cry,

‘ “ Down with your arms ; down, I
say, or you’re dead men ! ”

‘The President stepped quickly across
the room to his escritoire, took up his
revolver, went back to the window,
passed through if, and without a word
disappeared. I could not hear even the
sound of his feet on the verandah.

* I heard one more shot — then a rush
of men to the door, and the Colonel
burst in, with sword and revolver in his
hands, and followed by ten or a dozen
men.

.‘I. ran to him, terrified, and cried,

‘ ‘ “ Oh, is anyone hurt ? ”

‘ He took no notice, but asked hastily,

‘“Where is he?”

* I pointed to the verandah, and
gasped,

K

146

A MAN OF MARK

‘ “ He went out there.” Then I turned
to one of the men and said again,

‘ “ Is anyone hurt ? ”

‘“Only Mr Carr,” he replied. “The
rest of ’em were a precious sight too
careful of themselves.”

* “ And is he killed ? ”

‘ “ Don’t think he’s dead, miss,” he said.

“ But he’s hurt badly.”

‘ As I turned again, I saw the President
standing quite calmly in the window.
When the Colonel saw him, he raised
his revolver and said,

‘ “ Do you yield, General Whittingham ?
We are twelve to one.”

‘As he spoke, every man covered the
President with his aim. The latter stood
facing the twelve, revolvers, his own
•weapon hanging loosely in his left hand.
Then, smiling, he said a little bitterly,
‘“Heroics are not in my line, McGregor.
I suppose this is a popular rising — that is
•to say, you have .bribed my men, murdered

TWO SURPRISES

*47

my best friend, and beguiled me with the
lures of that — ”

‘ I could not bear the word that hung
on his lips, and with a sob I fell on a sofa
and hid my face.

1 “ Well, we mustn’t use hard names,”
he went on in a gentler tone. “ We are
all as God maSe us. I give in,” and,
throwing down his weapon, he asked,
“ Have you quits killed Carr?”

* “ 1 don’t know," said the Colonel,
implying plainly that he did not care
either.

‘ “ I suppose it was you that shot him ? ”

‘ The Colonel nodded.

‘The President yawned, and looked at
his watch.

‘“As I have no part in to-night’s per-
formance,” said he, “ I presume I am at
liberty to go to bed?”

, ‘The Colonel §aid, curtly,

‘ “ Where’s the bedroom ? ”

‘ ** In there,” said the .President, waving

148

A MAN OF MARK

his hand to a door facing that by which
the Colonel had entered.

‘ “ Permit me,” said the latter. He
went in, no doubt to see if there were
any other egress. Returning shortly he
said,

‘"My men must stay here, and you
must leave the door open.”

‘ “ I have no objection,” said the Pre-
sident. “ No doubt they will respect my
modesty."

“‘Two of you stay in this room. Two
of you keep watch in the verandah, one
at this window, the other at the bedroom
window. I shall put three more sentries
outside. General Whittingham is not to
leave this room. If you hear or see any-
thing going on in ‘there, go in and put
him under restraint. Otherwise treat him
with respect.”

* “ I thank you for your civility,” said
the President, ‘‘also for the compliment
Implied in these precautions. Is it x>ver

TWO SURPRISES

149

this matter of the debt that your patriotism
has drawn you into revolt ? ”

‘ “ I see no use in discussing public
affairs at this moment,” the Colonel re-
plied. “And my presence is required
elsewhere. I regret that I cannot re-
lieve you of thq presence of these men,
but I do not feel I should be justified
in accepting your parole''

* The President did not seem to be
angered at this insult.

* “ I have not offered it," he said simply.
“It is better you should take your own
measures. Need I detain you, Colonel ? ”

‘ The Colonel did not answer him, but
turned to me and said,

' “ Signorina Nugent, we wait only for
you, and time is precious.”

‘ “ 1 will follow you in a moment," I said,
with my head still among the cushions.

* “ No, come now,” he commanded.

* Looking up, I saw a smile on the Pre-
sident’s face. As I • rose reluctantly, he

150

A MAN OF MARK

also got up from the chair into which he
had flung himself, and stopped me with
a gesture. I was terribly afraid that he
was going to say something hard to me,
but his voice only expressed a sort of
amused pity.

“‘The money, was it,r Signorina ? ” he
said. “ Young people and beautiful people
should not be mercenary. Poor child,
you had better have stood by me.”

‘ I answered him nothing, but went out
with the Colonel, leaving him seated again
in his chair, surveying with some apparent
amusement the two threatening sentries
who stood at the door. The Colonel hur-
ried me out of the house, saying,

“'We must ride to the barracks. If
t the news gets therfe before us, they may
cut up rough. You go home. Your work
is done.”

‘ So they mounted and rode away, leav-
ing me in the road. There were no signs
of any struggle, except the door hanging

TWO SURPRISES

151

loose on its hinges, and a drop or two of
blood on the steps where they had shot
poor Johnny Carr. I went straight home,
and what happened in the next few hours
at the Golden House I don’t know,, and,
knowing how I left the President, I cannot
explain. I wept home, and cried till I
thought my heart would break.’

Thus far the Signorina. I must beg to
call special attention to the closing lines
of her narrative. But before I relate the
very startling occurrence to which she
refers, we must return to the barracks,
where, it will be remembered, matters were
in a rather critical condition. When the
officers saw their mess-room suddenly filled
with armed men, and heard the alarming
order issued by the ‘Colonel, their atten-
tion was effectually diverted from me.
They crowded together on one side of
the table, facing the Colonel and his men
on the other. Assisted by the two men
sent to my aid, I seized the opportunity

A MAN OF MARK

15a

to push my way through them and range
myself by the side of my leader. After a
moment’s pause the Colonel began,

* The last thing we should desire, gentle-
men,’ he said, ‘ is to resort to force. But
• the time for explanation is short. The
people of Aureataland haye at last risen
against the tyranny they have so long en-
dured. General Whittingham has proved
a traitor to the cause of freedom ; he won
his position in the name of liberty ; he has
used it to destroy liberty. The voice of
the people has declared him to have for-
feited his high office. The people have
placed in my hand the sword of vengeance.
Armed with this mighty sanction, I have
appealed to the army. The army has
proved true to its traditions — true to its.
character of the protector, not the op-
pressor, of the people. Gentlemen, will
you who lead the army take your proper
place ? ’

•There was no .reply to this moving

TWO SURPRISES

*53

appeal. He advanced closer to them,
and went on,

‘ There is no middle way. You are
patriots or traitors — friends of 'liberty or
friends of tyranny. I stand here to offer
you either a traitor’s death, or, if you will,
life, honour and»the satisfaction of all your
just claims. Do you mistrust the people ?
I, as their representative, here offer you
every just due the people owes you —
debts which had long been paid but for
the greed of that great traitor.’

As he said this he took from his men
some bags of money, and threw them on
the table with a loud chink.

Major DeChair glanced at the bags, and
glanced at his comrades, and said,

• ‘In the cause of liberty Gqd forbid we #
should be behind ! Down with the tyrant ! ’
- And all the pack yelped in chorus!

‘ Then, gentlenten, to the head of your
men/ said the Colonel, and going to the
window, he cried to*the throng,

A MAN OF MARK

*54

‘ Men, your noble officers are with us.’

A cheer answered him. I wiped my
forehead, and said to myself, ‘ That’s well
over.'

I will not weary the reader with our
further proceedings. Suffice it to say we
marshalled our host and iparched down to
the Piazza. The news had spread by now,
and in the dimly-breaking morning light
we saw the Square full of people — men,
women and children. As we marched in
there was a cheer, not very hearty — a
cheer propitiatory, for they did not know
what we meant to do. The Colonel made
them a brief speech, promising peace,
security, liberty, plenty and all the goods
of heaven. In a few stern words he
cautioned them against ‘treachery/ and
announced that any rebellion against the
Provisional Government would meet with
swift punishment. Then he posted his
army in companies, to keep watch till all
was quiet. And at last he said,

TWO SURPRISES

155

• Now, Martin, come back to the Golden
House, and let’s put that fellow in a safe
place.’

1 Yes,’ said I, ' and have a look for the
money.’ For really in the excitement it
seemed as if there was a danger of- the .
most important^ thing of all being for-
gotten.

The dawn was now far advanced, and
as we left the Piazza, we could see the
Golden House at the other end of the
avenue. All looked quiet, and the sentries
were gently pacing to and fro. Drawing
nearer, we saw two or three of the Presi-
dent’s servants busied about their ordinary
tasks. One woman was already deleting
Johnny Carr’s life-blood with a mop and a
pail of water ; and a carpenter was at work
repairing the front-door. Standing by it
Was the doctor’s brougham.

‘ Come to see Carr, I suppose/ said I.

Leaving our horses to the care of the
men who were with us, we entered the

156

A MAN OF MARK

house. Just inside we met the doctor
himself. He was a shrewd little fellow,
named Anderson, generally popular and,
though a personal friend of the President’s,
not openly identified with either political
party.

' I have a request to make to you,
sir,' he said to McGregor, ‘about Mr
Carr.’

‘Well, is he dead?’ said the Colonel.
‘If he is, he’s got only himself to thank
for it.’

The doctor wisely declined to discuss
this question, and confined himself to
stating that Johnny was not dead. On
the contrary, he was going on nicely.

‘ But,’ he went on, ‘ quiet is essential,
and I want to take him to my house, out
df the racket. No doubt it is pretty quiet
here now, but — ’

The Colonel interrupted, —

‘ Will he give his parole not to escape ? ’
.‘My dear sir,’ said the doctor, ‘the man

TWO SURPRISES

>57

couldn’t move to save his life — and he’s
asleep now.’

* You must wake him up to move him, I
suppose,’ said the Colonel. ‘ But you may
take him. Let me know when he’s well
enough to see me. Meanwhile, I hold you
responsible for his good behaviour.’

'Certainly,’ sdid the doctor. ‘I am
content to be responsible for Mr Carr.’

‘ All right ; take him and get out. Now
for Whittingham ! ’

‘ Hadn’t we better get the money first? ’
said I.

' Damn the money ! ’ he replied. ‘ But I
tell you what — I must have a bit of food.
I’ve tasted nothing for twelve hours.’

One of the servants, hearing him, said,

' Breakfast can be served in a moment,
sir. And he ushered us into the large
dining-room, where we soon had an ex-
cellent meal. •

When we had got through most of it, I
broke the silence bjr asking,

158 A MAN OF MARK

‘ What are you going to do with him ? ’

‘ I should like to shoot him/ said the
Colonel.

‘ On what charge ? ’

‘Treachery/ he replied.

I smiled.

‘ That would hardly do, would it ? ’

‘Well, then, embezzlement of public
funds.’

We had a little talk* about the Presi-
dent’s destiny, and I tried to persuade the
Colonel to milder measures. In fact, I was
determined to prevent such a murder if I
could without ruin to myself.

‘ Well, we’ll consider it when we’ve seen
him,’ said the Colonel, rising and lighting
a cigarette. ‘By Jove! we’ve wasted an
hour breakfasting — it’s seven o’clock/

• I followed him along the passage, and
we entered the little room where we had
left the President. The gentries were still
there, each seated in an arm-chair. They
were not asleep, but looked a little drowsy.

TWO SURPRISES 159

‘AH right?’ said the Colonel.

‘Yes, Excellency,’ said one of them.

‘ He is in there in bed.’

He went into the inner room and began
to undo the shutters, letting in the early
sun.

We passed through the half-opened door
and saw a peaceful figure lying in the bed,
whence proceeded a gentle snore.

‘ Good nerve,* hasn’t he ? ’ said the
Colonel.

‘ Yes ; but what a queer night-cap,’ I
said, for the President’s head was swathed
in white linen.

The Colonel strode quickly up to the
bed. •

* Done, by hell ! ’ he cried. ‘ It’s
Johnny Carr ! ’

It was true; there lay Johnny. His
Excellency was nowhere to be seen.

The Colonel §hook Johnny roughly by
the arm. The latter opened his eyes and
said, sleepily,

160 A MAN OF MARK

‘ Steady there ! Kindly remember I’m
a trifle fragile.’

‘What’s this infernal plot? Where’s
Whittingham ? ’

* Ah, it’s McGregor,’ said Johnny with

a bland smile, ‘and Martin. How are
you, old fellow ? Some beast’s hit me
on the head.’ *

* Where’s Whittingham ? ’ reiterated the
Colonel, savagely shaking Johnny’s arm.

* Gently ! * said I ; ‘ after all, he’s a sick
man.’

The Colonel dropped the arm with a
muttered oath, and Johnny said sweetly,

* Quits, isn’t it, Colonel ? ’

The Colonel turned from him* and said
to his men sternly,

‘ Have you had any hand in this ? ’

• They protested vehemently that they
were as astonished as we were; and so
they were, unless they, acted consum-
mately. They denied that anyone had
entered the outer room or that any sound

TWO SURPRISES

161

had proceeded from the inner. They
swore they had kept vigilant watch, and
must have seen any intruder. Both the
men inside were the Colonel’s personal
servants, and he believed in their honesty ;
but what of their vigilance?

Carr heard him sternly questioning
them, and said,

‘ Those chaps aren’t to blame, Colonel.

I didn’t come in that way. If you’ll take
a look behind the bed, you’ll see another
door. They brought me in there. I was
rather queer and only half knew what
was up.’

We looked and saw a door where he
said. Pushing the bed aside, we opened
it, and found ourselves on the back stair*
case of the premises. Clearly the President
had noiselessly opened this door and got*
out. But how had Carr got in without
noise ?

The sentry came up, saying,

* Every five minutqs, £ir, 'I looked amk,

A MAN OF MARK

163

saw him on the bed. He lay for the first
hour in his clothes. The next look, he
was undressed. It struck me he’d been
pretty quick and quiet about it, but I
thought no more.’

* Depend upon it, the dressed man was
the President, the undressed man Carr!
When was that ? ’

‘ About half-past two, sir ; just after the
doctor came.’

' The doctor ! ’ we cried.

'Yes, sir; Doctor Anderson.’

* You never told me he had been here.’
‘ He never went into the President’s —

into General Whittingham’s room, sir ;
but he came in here for five minutes, to
get some brandy, and stood talking with
us for a time. Half-an-hour after, he came
In for some more.’

We began to see how it was done.
That wretched little doctor was in the
plot. Somehow or other he had com-
municated with the .President ; probably

TWO SURPRISES

163

he knew of the door. Then, I fancied,
they must have worked something in this
way. The doctor comes in to distract the
sentries, while his Excellency moves the
bed. Finding that they took a look every
five minutes, he told the President. Then
he went and got Johnny Carr ready. Re-
turning, he take& the President's place on
the bed, and in that character undergoes
an inspection. The moment this is over
he leaps up and goes out. Between them
they bring in Carr, put him into bed, and
slip out through the narrow space of open
door behind the bedstead. When all was
done, the doctor had come back to see if
any suspicion had been aroused.

' I have it now ! ’ cried the Colonel.

‘ That infernal doctor’s done us both.
He couldn’t get Whittingham *out of the
house without leave, so he’s taken him as
Carr ! Swindled.me into giving my leave !
Ah, look out if we meet, Mr Doctor ! ’

We rushed out of the house and found

164

A MAN OF MARK

this conjecture was true. The man who
purported to be Carr had been carried out,
enveloped in blankets, just as we sat
down to breakfast; the doctor had put
him into the carriage, followed himself,
t and driven rapidly away.

' Which way did they go ? ’

‘Towards the harbour, ' sir,’ the sentry
replied.

The harbour could be reached in twenty
minutes’ fast driving. Without a word
the Colonel sprang on his horse ; I
imitated him, and we galloped as hard as
we could, everyone making way before
our furious charge. Alas! we were too
late. As we drew rein on th£ quay we
saw, half-a-mile out to sea and sailing
before a stiff breeze, Johnny Carr's
little yacht, with the AureataJand flag
floating defiantly at her mast-head.

We gazed at it blankly, with never a
plord to say, and turned our horses’ heads,
inunit attention was attracted by a small

TWO SURPRISES

165

group of men standing round the storm-
signal post. As we rode up, they hastily
scattered, and we saw pinned to the post
a sheet of notepaper. Thereon was
written in a well-known hand : —

' I, Marcus W. Whittingham, President
of the Republfc of Aureataland, hereby
offer a Reward of Five Thousand Dol-
lars and a Free Pardon to any person
or persons assisting in the Capture,
Alive or Dead, of George McGregor
(late Colonel in the Aureataland Army)
and John Martin, Bank Manager, and
I do further proclaim the said George
McGregoi* and John Martin to be traitors
and rebels against the Republic, and do
pronounce their live.s forfeited. Which
sentence let every loyal citizen observe
at his peril.

‘ Marcus W. Whittingham,

‘ President.

Truly this was pleasant !

CHAPTER XI

c

DIVIDING THE SPOILS

T HE habit of reading having pene-
trated, 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 appre-
hension. 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

1 66

DIVIDING THE SPOILS 167

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, irf
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 paralyse our energies; on the
contrary, we determined to make hay
while the* sun shone, and, if Aureataland
was doomed to succumb ontfe 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 insti-
tuting a thorough inquiry into the s(gte

1 68

A MAN OF MARK

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 1 in his library
revealed nothing to our eager eyes. A
foraging party, despatched to the Ministry
of Finance (where, by the way, they did
not find Don Antonio or his fair
daughter), returned with the discourag-
ing news that nothing was visible but
ledgers and bills (not negotiable securi-
ties — the other sort). In deep dejec-
tion I threw myself into his Excellency’s
chair and lit one .of his praiseworthy
cigars with the doleful reflection that
this pleasure seemed all 1 was likely
to get out of the .business. The
Colonel stood moodily with his back
to — the fireplace, looking at me as* if

DIVIDING THE SPOILS

169

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 uhnatural 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

4 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 h^ve to disturb you for
a few minutes, Mr Carr. You don't
mind, do you?’

170

A MAN OF MARK

1 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
Iside; it moved in a groove! Then she
pressed a spot in the wall behind and a
small piece of it rollfed. aside, disclosing
a keyhole.

He’s taken the key, of course, ’ *she

DIVIDING THE SPOILS

171

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 1 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 500,000 dollars!

We smiled at one another.

‘ A sad revelation,’ I remarked.

‘ Hoary old fox ! ’ said the Colonel.

No wonder the harbour 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 re-
plied, and we retreajted with our spoiV.

172

A MAN OF MARK

‘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 P ’

The Colonel made no reply, but handed
me the money, which I liked much better.
I took the 320,000 dollars, and said,

‘ Now, I can face the world, an honest
man.’ *

The Signorina laughed.

‘/am glad,’ she said, ‘chiefly for
poor old Jones’s sake. It’ll take a load
off his mind.’

The Colonel proceeded to divide the re-
mainder into two little heaps, one of which

DIVIDING THE SPOILS

173

he pushed one over to the Signorina. She
took it gaily, saying,

‘ Now I shall make curl papers of half
my bonds, and I shall rely on the — what
do you call it? — the Provisional Govern-
ment 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 rtothing 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 curtsey and went to
, k 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.

A MAN OF MARK

174

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 un-
ambitious tale does not profess to be a
complete history of Aureataland, and 1
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 Govern-
ment 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

DIVIDING THE SPOILS

175

agreed to take in hand,. under his super-
vision, 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 usuad occupations of life were
going on amid a confused stir of excite-
tnent and I saw byrhejnterest my appear*

176

A MAN OF MARK

ance aroused that .some part at least of my
share in the night’s doing had leaked out.
The Gazette had published a special edi-
tion, in which it hailed the advent of free-
dom, 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 in-
appropriate, 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 falling regime,
I could say to myself, as I turned into the
bank, ‘ Order reigns in Warsaw.’

General assent had proclaimed'*' sus-
pension of commerce on this auspicious
*day, and I found Jones sitting idle and ill
at ease. I explained to him the state of
cdtairs, showing how the President's dis-
honourable scheme had compelled me, .in.
the interests of the bank, to take a ihore

DIVIDING THE SPOILS

177

or less active part in Jthe revolution. It
was pathetic to hear him bewail the villainy
of the man he had trusted, and when 1
produced the money, he blessed me fer-
vently, and at once proposed writing to
the Directors a full account of the
matter.

4 They are bound to vote you an
honorarium, sir,’ he said.

4 1 don’t know, Jones,’ I replied. 4 1 am
afraid there is a certain prejudice against
me at headquarters. But in any case I
have resolved <b forego, the personal ad-
vantage that might accrue to me from my
conduct. President McGregor has mad):
a strong representation to me that the
schemes of General Whittingham, if pub-
licly 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^,

> *

i 7 8

A MAN OF MARK

* God forbid, §ir!’ 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 realisations in the ordinary
course of business. The recent disturb-
ances will quite account for so large a sum
being called in.’

‘ 1 don’t quite see how I can arrange
that.’

. * Ah, you are overdone,’ saicf I. ‘ Leave
it all to me, Jones.'

And this 1 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 over-
awed by my present exalted position. He
Appeared to forget what I could not,* that

DIVIDING THE SPOILS

*79

the President, no dogbt, still possessed
that fatal cable!

After lunch I remembered my engage*
ment 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 care-
lessly, but as my eye fell on the President’s
hand, 1 started in amazement. The note
was dated * Saturday — From on board
The Songstress ,’ and ran as follows: —

4

9

‘ 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
useftil to you to jtqpw that McGregor

180 A MAN OF MARK

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. — Be 1
lieve me, dear Mr Martin, faithfully yours,
‘Marcus W. Whittingham,

‘ President of the Republic
‘ of Aureataland.’

m "•

It is a pleasant thing, as has been re*
marked, laudari a laudato vtro, and the
President’s praise was grateful to me. But
I did not see my way to fall in with his
vi&ws. He said nothing about the money,

DIVIDING THE SPOILS

i$i

but 1 knew well that i{s 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 hover-
ing a few miles off, and he had better look
out.

This done, I resumed my interrupted
progress to the Signorina’s. When 1 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 y<Ju heard from him ?

‘ Yes, just a little note. He is rather
crosS with me.’

1 82

A MAN OF MARK

‘ 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 Presi-
dent’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 him-
self 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,’ sh$ replied.

DIVIDING THE SPOILS 183

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 ? 4

‘ 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 1 ’

' We’ll see about that,’ said I* savagely.

‘ Another revolution, Jack ? ’ asked the
Signorina. •

1 You needn’t laugh at me,’ I said sulkily.

* Poor boy ! What are we idyllic lovers
to do?’

4 1 don’t believoyou’re a bit in earnest.’

A MAN OF MARK

184

‘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
bver 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.
1’v^been paying debts,’ she added proudly.

DIVIDING THE SPOILS

i»5

* I haven’t been even doing that. And
I’m not quite equal to purloining that
300,000 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 Rim,’ 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 %xert so strange an influence
over such a nature. I was burtiing to ask
her more about herself and the President,
Hut I could not while she was distressed.*
And when I had comforted her, she reso-
lutely declined ta return to the subject.

‘No, go away now,’ she said. ‘ Think
how we are to checkmate our two Presi-

i86

A MAN OF MARK

dents. 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
fo 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.

CHAPTER XII

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

I N spite of my many anxieties, after
this eventful day I enjoyed the first
decent night’s rest I had had for a week.
The Colonel refused, with an unnecessary
ostentation of scorn, my patriotic offer to
keep watch and ward over the city, and I
turned in, tired out, at eleven o’clock, after
a light dinner and a meditative pipe. I
felt I had some reasons for self-cOngratula-
iion ; for considerable as my present
difficulties were, yet I undoubtedly stood
in a more hopeful position than I had
before the revolution, I was now resolved
to Tget my money safe out of the country,

187 *

1 88

A MAN OF MARF

and I had hopes of being too much for
McGregor in the other matter which
shared my thoughts.

The return of day, however, brought
new troubles. I was roused at an early
hour by a visit from the Colonel himself.
He brought very disquieting tidings. In
the course of the night every one of our
proclamations had been torn down or de-
faced with ribald scribblings ; posted over
or alongside them, there now hung multi-
tudinous enlarged copies of the President’s
offensive notice. How or by whom these
seditious measures had been effected we
were at a loss to tell, for the officers and
troops were loud in declaring their vigil-
ance. In the very centre of the Piazza,
on the base of the President’s statue, was
posted an enormous bill, ' Remember
1871! Death to Traitors 1 ’ ,

4 How could they do that unless the
soldiers were in it?’ asked the Colonel
gloomily. * I have sent those two cofn-

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

189

panics back to barracks and had another
lot out. But how do I know they’ll be
any better ? I met DeChair just now and
asked him what the temper of the troops
was. The little brute grinned, and said,
“Ah, mon President, it would be better
if the good soldiers had a leetle more

yt ) • •

money.

4 That’s about it,’ said 1 ; 4 but then you
haven’t got much’ more money.’

1 What I’ve got I mean to stick to,’ said
the Colonel. * If this thing is going to
burst up, I’m not going to be kicked out
to starve. I tell you what it is, Martin,
you must let me have some of that cash
back again.’’

The effrontery of this request amazed
me. I was just drawing on the second
leg of my trousers (for it was impossible*
»to be comfortable in bed with that great
creature fuming* about), and I stopped
with one leg in mid-air and gazed at him.

‘Well, what’s the matter? Why*afe

190

A MAN OF MARK

you to dance out with all the plunder ? ’ he
asked.

The man's want of ordinary morality
was too revolting. Didn’t he know very
well that the money wasn’t mine ? Didn’t
he himself obtain my help on the express
terms that I should have this money to
'repay the bank with ? 1 finished putting

on my garments, and then I replied,

‘ Not a farthing, Colonel ; not a damned
farthing ! By our agreement that cash was
to be mine ; but for that I wouldn’t have
touched your revolution with a pair of tongs.’

He looked very savage, and muttered
something under his breath.

‘You’re carrying things with a high
hand,’ he said.

‘ I’m not going tp steal to please you,’
'said I.

‘ You weren’t always so scrupulous,’ he
sneered. •

I took no notice of this insult, but re-
peated my determination.

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

191

‘ Look here, Martin,' he said, ‘ 1 11 give
you twenty-four hours to think it over;
and let me advise you to change your
mind by then. I don’t want to quarrel,
but I’m going to have some of that
money.'

Clearly he had learnt statecraft in his
predecessor’s school ! ' Twenty-four hours
is something,’ thought I, and determined
to try the cunning of the serpent.

* All right, Colonel,’ I said, ‘ I’ll think it
over. I don’t pretend to like it ; but, after
all, I’m in with you and we must pull
together. We’ll see how things look to-
morrow morning.’

‘There’s another matter I wanted to
speak to you about,’ he went bn.

I was now dressed, so I invited him

• ft

into the breakfast-room, gave him a cup*
-of coffee (which, to my credit, I didn't
poison), and began on my own eggs and
toast

‘Fire away,’ said I < briefly.

iga

A MAN OF MARK

‘ I suppose you know Pm going to be
married?’ he remarked.

* No, I hadn’t heard,’ I replied, feigning
to be entirely occupied with a very nimble
egg. * Rather a busy time for marrying,
isn’t it? Who is she?’

He gave a heavy laugh.

‘You needn’t pretencl to be so very
innocent; I expect you could give a
pretty good guess.’

‘ Madame Devarges ? ’ I asked blandly.

‘ Suitable match ; about your age — ’

' I wish the devil you wouldn’t try to be
funny!’ he exclaimed. ‘You know as
well as I do it’s the Signorina.’

‘Really?’ I replied. ‘Well, well, I
fancied you were a little touched in that
quarter. And she. has consented to make
you happy ? ’

I was curious to see what he would sayr-
I knew he was a bad li&r, and, as a fact,

I believe he told the truth on this occa-
sion, for he answered, ’ *_

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

>93

‘ Says she never care4 a straw for any
one else.'

Oh, Signorina!

‘ Not even Whittingham ? ’ I asked mali-
ciously.

* Hates the old ruffian ! ’ said the Colonel.
‘ I once thought she had a liking for you,
Martin, but she laughed at the idea. I’m
glad of it, for we should have fallen out.’

I smiled in a somewhat sickly way, and
took refuge in my cup. When I emerged,
I asked,

‘And when is it to be?’ ^

* Next Saturday.’

‘So soon?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Fact is, between you
and me, Martin, she’s ready enough.’

This was too disgusting. But whether
the Colonel was deceiving me, or the Sig-
% i/orina had deceived him, I didn’t know —
a little bit of both* probably. I saw, how-
ever, what the Colonel’s game was plainly
enough ; he was, injiis .clumsy way, want*
H

194

A MAN OF MARK

ing me off his preserves, for, of course, he
knew my pretensions, and probably that
they had met with some success, and I
don’t think I imposed on him very much.
But I was anxious to avoid a rupture and
gain time.

' I must call and congratulate the lady,’
I said.

The Colonel couldn’t very well object to
that, but he didn’t like it.

'Well, Christina told me she was very
busy, but I daresay she’ll see you for a
few minutes.’

‘I daresay she will,’ I said dryly.

* I must be off now. I shall have to
be about all day trying to catch those
infernal fellows who destroyed the
bills.’

*

'You won’t be doing any business to-
day, then ? ’ ' —

. ‘ What, about settlingthe Government ? ’
he asked, grinning. ‘ Not just yet. Wait
till I’ve got the Signorina and the hrtmey,

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

*95

and then we’ll see about that. You think ‘
about the money, my boy ! ’

Much to my relief he then departed,
and as he went out I swore that neither
Signorina nor money should he ever
have. In the course of the next twenty- •
four hours I mugt find a way to prevenj
him.

‘ Rather early for a call,’ said I, ‘ but I
must see the Signorina.’

On my way up I met several people, and
heard some interesting facts. In the first
place, no trace had appeared of Don
Antonio and his daughter ; rumour de-
clared that they had embarked on The
Songstress with the President at\d his faith-
ful doctor. Secondly, Johnny Carr was
still in bed at the Golden House (this from #
Madame Devarges, who had been to see
hfm) ; but his men had disappeared, after
solemnly taking* the oath to the new
Government. Item three. The Colonel
had been received ■'With silence and black

196

A MAN OF MARK

looks by the troops, and two officers had
vanished into, space, both Americans, and
the only men of any good in a ( fight.
Things were looking, rather blue, and I
began to think that I also should like to
lisappear, provided I could carry off my
•noney and my mistress with me. My
scruples about loyalty had been removed
by the Colonel’s overbearing conduct, and
I was ready for any step that promised me
the fulfilment of my own designs. It was
pretty evident that there would be no
living with McGregor in his present frame
of mind, and I was convinced that my best
course would be to cut the whole thing, or,
if that proved impossible, to see what
bargain I could make with the Presi-
dent. Of course -all would go smoothly
with him if I gave up the dollars and
the lady ; a like sacrifice would conciliate
McGregor. But then I didn’t mean to
rn^Jce it.

* One or other I jvill have,' said I* as I

.BETWEEN TWO FIRES

197

knocked at the door of ‘.Mon Repos,’ * and
both if possible.’

The Signorina was looking worried;
indeed, I thought she had been crying.

‘ Did you meet my aunt on your way
up? ’ she asked, the moment I was
announced. ( .

‘ No,’ said I.

‘ I’ve sent her away,’ she continued.
* All this fuss frightens her, so I got the
Colonel’s leave (for you know we mustn’t
move without permission now liberty has
triumphed) for her to seek change of air.'

‘ Where’s she going to ? ’ I said.

‘ Home,’ said the Signorina.

I didn’t know where * home ’ yras, but I
never ask what I am not meant to know.

, ‘ Are you left alone*? ’

‘Yes. I know it’s not correct. But
yoET see, Jack, I had to choose between
care for my money and care for my reputa-
tion. . The latter is always safe in my pwn
keeping; the "former I wasn’t so sure about.’

198

A MAN OF MARK

Oh, so you’ve, given it to Mrs Car-
rington?

' Yes, all but five thousand dollars/

‘Does the Colonel know that?'

* Dear me, of course not, or he’d never
* have let her go.’

, ‘ You’re very wise/ said I. ‘ 1 only
wish I could have sent my money with
her/

* I’m afraid that would have made dear
aunt rather bulky/ said the Signorina,
tittering.

‘Yes, such a lot of mine’s in cash/ I
said regretfully. ' But won’t they find it
on her?’ ,

‘Not ifi they’re gentlemen/ replied the
Signorina, darkly.

v Evidently I could not ask for further
details ; so, without more ado, I disclosed
my own perilous condition and *1tEe
Colonel’s boasts about herself.

‘,What a villain that man is!’ she, ex-
claimed. ' Of course I was civil to him,

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

199

but I didn’t say half that. You didn’t •
believe I did, Jack ? ’

There’s never any use in being un-
pleasant, so I said I had rejected the idea
with scorn.

‘ But what’s to be done ? If I’m here .
to-morrow, he’ll take the money, and, as
likely as not, cut my throat if I try to stop
him.’

‘Yes, and he’ll marry me,’ chimed in
the Signorina. ' Jack, we must have
a counter-revolution.’

' I don’t see what good that’ll do,’ I
answered dolefully. 'The President will
take the money just the same, and I expect
he’ll marry *you just the same.’

' Of the two, I would rather have
him. Now don’t rage, Jack! I only
said, “of the two.” But you're quit®
right jr it couldn’t help us .much to bring
General Whittingham back.’

‘To say nothing of the strong pro-
bability of my perishing in the attempt.’

300

A MAN OF MARK

* Let me think/ said the Signorina,
knitting ber brows.

* May I light a cigarette and help
you ? ’

She nodded permission, and I awaited
the result of her meditation.

She sat there, looking very thoughtful
and troubled, but it see'med to me as if
she were rather undergoing a conflict
of feeling than thinking out a course
of action. Once she glanced at me,
then turned away with a restless move-
ment and a sigh.

I finished my cigarette, and flinging it
away, strolled up to the window to look
out. I had stood there a little while,
when I heard her call softly,

‘Jack!’

I turned and came to her, kneeling
down by her side and taking her hands.
« She gazed rather intently into my
face with unusual gravity. Then she
said;*

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

201

* If you have to choose between me and.
the money, which will' it be ? ’»

I kissed her hand for answer.

* If the money is lost, won’t it all
come out? And then won’t they call
you dishonest?’

* I suppose so,’ said I.

‘You don’t mind that?’

* Yes, I do. Nobody likes being called
a thief — especially when there’s a kind
of truth about it. But I should mind
losing you more.’

‘ Are you really very fond of me, Jack ?
No, you needn’t say so. I think you
are. Now I’ll tell you a secret. If you
hadn’t comS here, I. should have married
General Whittingham long ago. , , I stayed
here intending to do it (oh, yes, I’m not
a nice girl, Jack), and he asked me very
soon after you first arrived. I gave him
my money, you .know, then.’

I was listening intently. It seemed as
if some things were going to be cleared up.

202

A MAN OF MARK

‘Well,’ she continued, ‘you know what
happened.* You fell in love with me, I
tried to make you, .and then I suppose
I fell a little in love with you. At any-
rate I told the President I wouldn’t marry
. him just then. Some time after, I wanted '
some money, and I asked him to give
the back mine. He utterly refused ;
you know his quiet way. He said he
would keep it for “Mrs Whittingham.’’
Oh, I could have killed him ! But I
didn’t dare to break with him openly ;
besides, he’s very hard to fight against.
We had constant disputes; he would
never give back the money, and I
declared I wouldn’t marry him unless I
had it first, and not then unless I chose.
He was very angry and swore I should
‘marry him without a penny of it; an<i
so it went on. But he never suspected
.you, Jack, not till quite* the end Then
we found out about the debt, you know ;
and*'about the same time I saw Ke* at

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

203

last suspected something between you and .
me. And the very day*before we came to
the bank he drove me. to desperation. He
stood beside me in this room, and said,

“ Christina, I am growing old. I shall wait
no longer. I believe you’re in love with ,
that young Martin." Then he apologised
for his plain speaking, for he’s alwayfe
gentle in manner. And I defied him.
And then, Jack, what do you think he did?’

I sprang up in a fury.

‘What?’ I cried.

‘ He laughed!' said the Signorina, with
tragic intensity. ‘ I couldn’t stand that.
So I joined the Colonel in upsetting him.
Ah, he shouldn’t have laughed at me ! ’

And indeed she looked at this moment
a dangerous subject for such treatment.

4 I knew what no one else knew, and t
co jW influence him as no one else could,
and I. had my* revenge. But now,’ she
said, ‘it all ends in nothing.’

‘And she broke down, sobbing.

204 A MAN OF MARK

. - Then, recovering herself, and motioning
me to be still, she went on,

'You may think, after holding him at
bay so long, I have little to fear from the
Colonel. But it’s different. The Presi-
. dent has no scruples ; but he is a gentle-
man — as far as women are concerned. I
mean — he wouldn’t — *

She stopped.

‘ But McGregor ? ’ I asked, in a hoarse
whisper.

She drooped her head on my shoulder.

‘ I daren’t stay here, Jack, with him,’
she whispered. 'If you can’t take me
away, I must go to the President. I shall
be at least safe with him ! ’

‘Damn the ruffian!’ I growled — not
meaning the President, but his successor:
‘I’ll shoot him!’

' No, no, Jack ! ’ she cried. ‘ You must
be quiet and cautious. But I must go to-
night — to-night, Jack, either with you or
to th% President.’

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

*05

‘My darling, you shall come with me,’ •
said I.

‘Where?'

‘ Oh, out of this somewhere.’

4 How are we to escape ? ’

4 Now, you sit down, dear, and try to .
stop crying — you break my heart — and I’ll
think. It’s my turn now.’

I carried her to the sofa, and she lay
still, but with her eyes fixed on me. I was
full of rage against McGregor, but I
couldn’t afford the luxury of indulging it,
so I gave my whole mind to finding a way
out for us. . At last I seemed to hit upon
a plan.

The Signorina saw the inspiration in my
eye. She jumped up and came to, me.

* Have you got it, J ack ? ’ she said.

‘I think so — if you will trust yourself
to me, and don’t mind an uncomfortable
night.’

* Go on.’

* You know my little steam launch? It

206

A MAN OF MARK

will be dark to-night. If we can get on
board with a couple of hours' start w.e can
show anybody a clean pair of heels. She
travels a good pace, and it's only fifty miles
to safety and foreign soil. I shall land
• there a beggar!’

‘ I don’t mind that, Jack,' she said. ' I
have my five thousand, and aunt will join
us with the rest. But how are we to get
on board ? Besides, oh, Jack ! the Presi-
dent watches the coast every night with
The Songstress — and you know she’s got
steam — Mr Carr just had auxiliary steam
put in.’ “

‘No,’ I said, ‘ I didn’t know about that.
Look here* Christina, excuse the question,
but can you communicate with the Presi-
dent ? ’

‘Yes,’ she said, after a second's hesitation.

This was what I suspected.

‘ And will he believe what you tell him ? ’

‘ I don’t know. He might and he might
not He'll probably act as if he didn’t'

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

207

I appreciated the justice of this forecast
of General Whittingham’s measures.

‘Well, we must chance it,’ I said. ‘At
any rate, better be caught by him than stay
here. We were, perhaps, a little hasty
with that revolution of ours.’

‘ I never thought the Colonel was so
wicked,’ said the* Signorina. *

We had no time to waste in abusing our
enemy; the question was how to outwit
him. I unfolded my plan to the Signorina,
not at all disguising from her the diffi-
culties, and even dangers, attendant upon
it. Whatever may have been her mind
before and after, she was at this moment
either so overcome with her fear of the
Colonel, or so carried away by* her feeling
for me, that she made nothing of difficulties
and laughed at dangers, pointing out that*
though failure would be ignominious, it
could not substantially aggravate our pre-
sent position. Whereas if we succeeded — 1
The thought of success raised a* pro-

A MAN OF MARK

208

• spect of bliss in which we revelled for a
few minutes ; then, warned by the strode
of twelve, we returned to business.

* Are you going to take any of the
money away with you ? ’ she asked.

. * No,’ said I, ‘ I don’t think so. It

would considerably increase the risk if I
were seen hanging about the bank; you
know he’s got spies all over the place.
Besides, what good would it do ? I
couldn’t stick to it, and I’m not inclined
to run arfy more risks merely to save the
bank’s pocket. The bar^Jpt hasn’t treated
me so well as all that. I prdpose to rely
on your bounty till I’ve time to turn
round.’

' Now, shall I come for you ? ' I asked
her when we had. arranged the . other
details.

' I think not,’ she said. * I believe- the
Colonel has one of my servants in his
pay. I can slip out by myself, but I
coulcfn’t manage so well if you were with

BETWEEN TWO FIRES

209

me. The sight of you vould excite curi-
osity.. I will meet you at the bottom of
Liberty Street.’

* At two o’clock in the morning exactly,
please. Don’t come through the Piazza
and Liberty Street. Come round by the
drive.’ (This w^s a sort of boulevarcL
encircling the town, where the aristocracy
was wont to ride and drive.) ‘Things
ought to be pretty busy about the bank
by then, and no one will notice you. You
have a revolver ? ’

‘Yes.’

‘All right” Don’t hurt anyone if you
can help it; but if you do, don’t leave
him to linger in agony. Now J’m off/ I
continued. ‘ I suppose I’d better not come
and see you again ? ’

‘ I’m afraid you mustn’t, Jack. You’ve
been Here two hours already.’

‘ I shall be in my room? in the after-
noon. If anything goes wrong, send your
carnage down the'" stfeei and. have it
o

aio

A MAN OF MARK

stopped at the grocer’s. I shall take that
for a sigh.’

The Signorina agreed, and we parted
tenderly. My last words were,

‘ You’ll send that message to Whit-
tingham at once ? ’

‘This moment,’ she ^aid, as she waved
me a kiss from the door of the room.

CHAPTER XIII

I WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE

I WAS evidently in for another day as
unpleasantly exciting as the one I
had spent before the revolution; and I
reflected sadly that if a man once goes in
for things of that kind, it’s none so easy
to pull up. Luckily, however, I had
several things to occupy me, and was not
left to fret the day away in idleness. First
I turned my steps to the harbour 1 : As I
went I examined my pockets and found*
a sum total of nine hundred and fifty
dollars. This was my all, for of late I had
deemed it wise to carry my fortune on my
perSo’n Well, thi» was enough for ? the

311

312

A MAN OF MARK

' present ; the future -must take care of it-
self. So' I thought to myself as I .went
along with a light heart, my triumph in
love easily outweighing all the troubles
and dangers that beset me. Only land me
* safe out of Aureataland with the Signorina
Jjy my side, and I asked nothing more of
fortune! Let the dead bury their dead,
and the bank look after its dollars !

Thus musing, I came to the boat-house
where my launch lay. She was a tidy
little boat, and had the advantage of being
workable by one man without any diffi-
culty. All I had to arrange was how to
embark on her unperceived. I summoned
the boatman in charge, and questioned
him closely about the probable state of
the weather. He confidently assured me
it would be fine but dark.

‘ Very well,’ said I, ‘ I shall go fishing ;
start overnight, and have* a shy at them at
sunrise.'

The man was rather astonished at 'my

I WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE 213

unwonted energy, but of course made no
objection.

4 What time shall you start, ‘sir?’ he
asked.

* I want her ready by two,’ said I.

1 Do you want me to go with you, sir ? ’

I pretended to consider, and then told
him, to his obvious relief, that I could
dispense with his services.

‘ Leave her at the end of your jetty,’ I
said, ‘ready for me. She’ll be all safe
there, won’t she?'

‘Oh, yes, sir. Nobody’ll be about, except
the sentries, and they won’t touch her.’

I privately hoped that not even the
sentries woufd be about, but I didn’t
say so.

‘Of course, sir, I shall lock the gate.
You’ve got your key?’

‘Yes, all right, and here you are — and
much obliged for* your trouble.’

Highly astonished and grateful at re-
ceivihg a large tip for no obvious reason

A MAN OF MARK

ai4

(rather a mistake on my part), the man
was profuse in promising to make .every
arrangement for my comfort. Even when
I asked for a few cushions, he dissembled
his scorn and agreed to put them in.

' And mind you don’t sit up,’ I said as
I left him.

*

‘ I’m not likely to sit up if I’m not
obliged,’ he answered. ‘ Hope you’ll
have good sport, sir.’

From the harbour I made my way
straight to the Golden House. The
Colonel was rather surprised to see me
again so soon, but when I told him I
came on business, he put his occupations
on one side and listened to me.

c

I began with some anxiety, for if he
suspected my good faith all would be
lost. However, I was always a good
hand at a lie, and the Colonel was not
the President.

* f I’ve come about that money question,’
I said.

I WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE 115

‘ Well, have you come to your senses ? ’ •
he asked, with his habitual ruderfess.

‘ I can’t give, you the money,’ I went
on.

1 The devil you can’t ! ’ he broke in.

‘ You sit there and tell me that ? Do you .
know that if thr* soldiers don’t have money
in a few hours, they’ll upset me ? They're
ready to do it any minute. By Jove !

I don’t know now when I give an order
whether I shall be obeyed or get a bullet
through my head.’

‘ Pray be calm,’ said I. * You didn’t let
me finish ! ’

* Let you finish ! ’ he cried. * You
seem to think jabber does everything.
The end of it all is, that either you give
me the money, or I take it — and if you
interfere, look out!’

“Fhat was just what I was going to
propose, if you hadn’t interrupted me,’

I said quietly, but with inward exultation,
foi r I saw he was jiist in the state of mind

A MAN OF MARK

216

to walk eagerly inta the trap I was pre-
paring fa* him.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

I explained to him that it was impos-
sible for me to give up the money. My
reputation was at stake; it was my duty
to die in defence of that money — a duty
which, I hastened to add, I entertained
no intention of performing.

' But,’ 1 went on, ‘although I am bound
not to surrender the money, I am not
bound to anticipate a forcible seizure of
it. In times of disturbance parties of
ruffians often turn to plunder. Not even
the most rigorous precautions can guard
against it. Now it would be very possible
that even to-night a band of such marauders
might make an attack on the bank, and
‘carry off all the money in the safe.’

‘ Oh ! ’ said the Colonel, ‘ that’s * the
game, is it?’

‘That,’ I replied, 'is the game; and a very
neat* game too, if you’ll play it properly.*’

I WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE *17

‘And what will .they say in Europe,,
when they hear the Provisional Govern-
ment is looting private property?'

‘My dear Colonel, you force me to
much explanation. You will, of course,
not appear in the matter.’

‘ I should like to be there,’ he remarked.
1 If I weren’t, the men mightn’t catch tile
exact drift of the thing.’

* You will be there, of course, but incog-
nito. Look here, Colonel, it’s as plain as
two peas. Give out that you're* going to
reconnoitre the coast and keep an eye on
The Songstress. Draw off your companies
from the Piazza on that pretence. Then
take fifteen br twenty men you can trust —
not more, for it’s no use taking more than
you can help, and resistance is out of the
‘question. About two, when everything
is «piiet, surround the bank. Jones will
open when you knock. Don’t hurt him,
but take him outside and keep him quiet
Go* in and take the money. Here's the

A MAN OF MARK

si8

key of the safe. Then, if you like, set
fire to the place.’

1 Bravo, ’ my boy ! ‘ said the Colonel.
‘ There’s stuff in you after all. Upon my
word, I was afraid you were going to
.turn virtuous.’

1 laughed as wickedly as I could.

* ‘ And what are you going to get out of
it?’ he said. ‘1 suppose that’s coming
next?’

As the reader knows, I wasn’t going to
get anything out of it, except myself and
the Signorina. But it wouldn’t do to tell
the Colonel that ; he would not believe in
disinterested conduct. So 1 bargained
with him for a douceur of thirty thousand
dollars, which he promised so readily that
I strongly doubted whether he ever meant
to pay it

‘ Do you think there's any danger 1 of
Whittingham making an attack while
we’re engaged on the job ? ’

The Colonel was, in common parlance

I* WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE 119

getting rather warmer than I liked. It
was. necessary to mislead him.*

‘ I don’t think so,’ I replied. ' * He can’t
possibly have 'organised much of a party
here yet There’s some discontent, no*
doubt, but not enough for him to rely on.’

‘There’s plenty of discofttent,’ said the
Colonel. * *

‘ There won’t be in a couple of hours.’

4 Why not ? ’

‘Why, because you’re going down to
the barracks to * announce a fresh instal-
ment of pay to the troops to-morrow
morning — a handsome instalment.’

4 Yes,’ said he thoughtfully, ‘that ought
to keep than quiet for one night. Fact is,
they don’t care twopence either for me or
Whittingham ; and if they think they’ll
get more out of me they’ll stick to me.'

• Of course I assented. Indeed, it was
true enough as long as the President was
not on the spot ; but I thought privately,
that the Colonel did not allow enough for

230

A MAN OF MARK

,his rival’s personal influence and prestige,
if he once got face to face with the tropps.

* Yes,’ the Colonel went on, * 111 do
that, and what’s more, I’ll put the people
in good humour by sending down orders
for free drink in the Piazza to-night.’

* Delightfully old-fashioned and baronial,’
I ‘remarked. * I think it’s a good idea.
Have a bonfire and make it complete. I
don’t suppose Whittingham dreams of
any attempt, but it will make the riot
even more plausible.’

' At any rate, they’ll all be too drunk to
make trouble,’ said he.

' Well, that’s about all, isn’t it ? ’ said I.

* I shall be off. I’ve got to write to my
Directors and ask instructions for the in-
vestment of the money.’

* ‘ You’ll live to be hanged, Martin,’ said
the Colonel, with evident admiration. « ■

‘Not by you, eh, Colonel ? Whatever
might have happened if I’d been obstinate 1
Hope * I shall survive to dance at your

I WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE 221

wedding, anyhow. -Less than a week .
now !.’

' Yes,’ said he, ' it’s Sunday (though, by
Jove, I'd forgotten it), and next Saturday’s
the day ! ’

He really looked quite the happy bride- .
groom as he said this, and I left him to
contemplate his bliss.

* I would bet ten to one that day never
comes,’ I thought, as I walked away.

‘ Even if I don’t win I’ll back the Presi-
dent to be back before that.’

The Colonel’s greed had triumphed over
his wits, and he had fallen into my snare
with greater readiness than I could have
hoped. The question remained, What
would the President do when he got the
Signorina’s letter? It, may conduce to a
better understanding of the position if I
tell* what that letter was. She gave if
me to read over, after we had compiled
it together, and I still have my copy^ If
ran as follows : —

223

A MAN OF MARK

‘ I can hardly hope you will trust me
again, but if I betrayed you, you drove me
to it. I have given them your money ; it
is in the bank now. M. refuses to give it
up, and the C. means to take it to-night
. He will have only a few men, the rest not
near. He will be at the bank at two,
with about twenty men. Take your own
measures. All here favour you. He
threatens me with violence unless I marry
him at once. He watches The Songstress ,
but if yoCi can leave her at anchor and land
in a boat there will be no suspicion. I
swear this is true ; do not punish me more
by disbelieving me. I make no protest.
But if you come back to me I will give you,
in return for pardon, anything you ask !

* Christina.

M. and the C. are on bad terms,

and M. will not be active against you. 7

«

Upon the whole I thought this would
bring' him. I doubted whether he would

I. WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE 923

believe very much it\ it, but it looked pro-,
bable (indeed, it was word for word true,

* as far as it went), and held out a. bait that
he would find it hard to resist. Again, he
was so fond of a bold stroke, and so devoid
of fear, that it was very likely he would,
come and see if it were true. If, as we
suspected, he already had a considerable
body of adherents on shore, he could land
and reconnoitre without very great danger
of falling into the Colonel’s hands. Finally,
even if he didn’t come, we hoped the letter
would be enough to divert his attention
from any thought of fugitive boats and
runaway lovers. I could have made the
terms of it ’even more alluring, but the
Signorina, with that extraordinarily dis-
torted morality distinctive of her sex, re-
fused to $wear to anything literally untrue*
in a letter which was itself from beginning
to end a monumental falsehood; though
nor a student of ethics, she was keenly
alive to tne distinction between the ex-

224

A MAN OF MARK

pressio falsi and the sufpressio vert. The
only passage she doubted about was the
last, ‘ If you come back, to me.’ ‘ But
then he won’t come back to me if I’m
not there!’ she exclaimed, triumphantly.
,What happened to him after he landed —
whether he cooked the Colonel’s goose or
tfie Colonel cooked his — I really could
not afford to consider. As a matter of
personal preference, I should have liked
the former, but I did not allow any such
considerations to influence my conduct.
My only hope was that the killing would
take long enough to leave time for our
unobtrusive exit. At the same time, as a
matter of betting, I would have laid long
odds against McGregor.

•To my mind it is nearly as difficult to
be consistently selfish as to be absolutely
unselfish. I had, at this crisis, every ‘ in-
ducement to concentrate adl my efforts on
mysejf, but I could not get Jones out of
my Head. It was certainly improbable that

I WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE a*5

Jones would try to resist the marauding’
.party 4 but neither the Colonel nor his
chosen band was likely to be scrupulous,
and it was impossible not to see that Jones,
might get a bullet through his head;
indeed, I fancied such a step would rather*
commend itself tq the Colonel, as givings
bona fide look to the affair. Jones had
often been a cause of great inconvenience
to me, but I didn’t wish to have his death
on my conscience, so I was very glad when
I happened to meet him on my way back
from the Golden House, and seized the
opportunity of giving him a friendly hint.

I took him, and sat him down beside me
on a bench in the Piazza. I was in no
way disturbed by the curious glances of
.three soldiers who were evidently-charged
to keep an eye on the bank and my
dealings with it

1 began by pledging Jones to absolute
secrecy, and then I intimated to him, in a
roundabout way, that .the Colonel and 1

326

A MAN OF MARK

"were both very apprehensive of an attack
on the bank.

‘The town/ I said, ‘is in a most un-
settled condition, and many dangerous
characters are about. Under these cir-
'cumstanceS I have felt compelled to leave
tbe defence of our property in the hands
of the Government. I have formally in-
timated to the authorities that we shall
hold them responsible for any loss occa-
sioned to us by public disorder. The
Colonel, in the name of the Government,
has accepted that responsibility. I there-
fore desire to tell you, Mr Jones, that in
the lamentable event of any attack on the
bank it will not be expected of you to
expose your life by resistance. Such a
sacrifice would be .both uncalled for and

c •

useless ; and I must instruct you that the
Government insists that their meaSufes
shall not be put in danger of frustration
by any rash conduct on our part. I am
unable to be at tlje bank this evening;

I “WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE a 17

but in the event of- any, trouble you will *
oblige me by not attempting to iheet force
by force. You. will yield, and we shall
rely on our remedy against the Govern-
ment in case of loss.’

These instructions so fully agreed with*
the natural bent ^of Jones’s mind that he
readily acquiesced in them and expressed
high appreciation of my foresight.

‘Take care of yourself and Mrs Jones,
my dear fellow,’ I concluded ; ' that is all
you have to do, and I shall be satisfied.’

I parted from him affectionately, wonder-
ing if my path in life would ever cross
the honest stupid old fellow’s again, and
heartily hoping that his fortune would
soon take him out of the rogues’ nest in
which he had been dwelling.

CHAPTER XIV

c

FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND

T HE night came on, fair and still,

clear and star-lit ; but there was no
« |

moon and, outside the immediate neigh-
bourhood of the main streets, the darkness
was enough to favour our hope of escaping
notice without being so intense as to em-
barrass out footsteps. ' Everything, in fact,
seemed to be on our side, and I was full of
c buoyant confidence, as I drank a last soli-
tary glass to the success of our enterprise,
put my revolver in my pocket, and, on" the
stroke of midnight, stole ffom my lodgings.
I looked up towards the bank and dimly
descried three or fpur motionless figures,

aa

Farewell to aureataland 229

whom I took- to be sentries guarding the*
treasure. The street itself w&s almost
deserted, but from where 1 stood I could •
see the Piazza crowded with a throng of
people whose shouts and songs told me
that the Colonel’s hospitality was being*
fully appreciated. There was dancii\g
going on to the strains of the military
band, and every sign showed that our good
citizens intended, in familiar phrase, to
make a night of it.

T walked swiftly and silently down to
the jetty. Yes, the boat was all right!

I looked to her fires, and left her moored
by one rope ready to be launched into the
calm black sea in *an instant* Then I
strolled along by the. harbour side. Here
I met a couple of sentries. Inftoceptly I,
entered into conversation with them, con-
doling on their hard fate in being kept on
duty while pleasure was at the helm in the
Piazza. Gently deprecating such excess
of* caution, I pointed out to them the

A MAN OF MARK

230

'stationary lights, of 'The Songstress four
or five miles out to sea, and with -a re- .
spectful smile at the Colonel’s uneasiness,
left the seed I had sown to grow in pre-
pared soil. I dared do no more, and had
•to trust for the rest to their natural inclina-
tion to the neglect of duty.

When I got back to the bottom of
Liberty Street, I ensconced myseir in the
shelter of a little group of trees which
stood at one side of the roadway. Just
across the road, which* ran at right angles
to the street, the wood began, and a
quarter of an hour’s walk through its
shades would bring us to the jetty where
the boat l?y. My trees made a perfect
screen, and here I stood awaiting events.
For some time nothing was audible but an
ever-increasing tumult of joviality from the
Piazza. But after about twenty minutes
I awoke to the fact that a* constant dribble
of men, singly or in pairs, had begun to
flow past me from the Piazza, dcfwn

FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND aji

Liberty Street, across the road behind^
me, and into the wood? Sornp were in
uniform, others dressed in common clothes ;
one or two I recognised as members of
Johnny Carr’s missing band. The strong *
contrast between the prevailing revelry
and the stealthy cautious air of these
passers-by would alone have suggested
that they were bent on business; putting
two and two together I had not the least
doubt that they were the President’s ad-
herents making their way down to the
water’s edge to receive their chief. So he
was coming ; the letter had done its work !
Some fifty or more must have come and
gone befote the. stream ceased, and _I
reflected, with great satisfaction, that the
Colonel was likely to have his. hands very
‘ full in the next hour or two.

. fclalf-an-hour or so passed uneventfully ;
the bonfire still blazed; the songs and
dancing were still in full swing. It was
dose upon the^fateful hour of two,', when,

232

A MAN OF MARK

looking from my hiding-place, 1 saw a
slight figure in btatk coming quickly and
fearfully along the road.

I recognised the Signorina at once, as
* I should recognise her any day among a
thousand, and, as she paused nearly oppo-
site where 1 was, I gently called her name
arid showed myself for A moment. She
ran to me at once.

‘ Is it all right ? ’ she asked, breathlessly.

‘ We shall see in* a moment,’ said I.

* The attack is coming *off ; it will begin
directly.’

But the attack was not the next thing
we saw. We had both retreated again
to the friendly shadow c whence we could
see without being seen. Hardly had we
settled ourselves than the Signorina whis-
pered to me, pointing across the road to
the wood,

„ ‘ What’s that, Jack ? '

• I followed the line of her finger and
made ofit a row of figures standing motion*

FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND 233

less and still on the very edge of the wood..
It was too dark to distinguish individuals ;
but even as we looked the silent ’air wafted
to our eager ears a low-voiced word of
command,

‘ Mind, not a sound till I give the word.’,

‘ The President ! ’ exclaimed the Sig-
nori na, in a loud 3 whisper.

‘ Hush, or he’ll hear,’ said I, ‘and we’re
done.’

Clearly nothing would happen from that
quarter till it was dalled forth by 'events in
the opposite direction. The Signorina
was strongly agitated ; she clung to me
closely, and I saw with alarm that the
very proximity of the man she stood i&
such awe of was too much for her com-
posure. When I had soothed, and I fear
half-frightened, her into stillness, I again*
turned my eyes towards the Piazza. The
fire had at last flickered out and the revels
seemed on the wane. Suddenly ajbody
of men appeared in-»close order, marching

*34

A MAN OF MARK

.down the street towards thg bank. We
stood perhaps a Tiundred yards from that
building, which was, in its turn, about '
two hundred from the Piazza. Steadily
they came along; no sound reached us
.from the wood.

‘This is getting interesting,’ I said,
‘^here’ll be trouble soon.’

As near as I could see, the Colonel’s
band, for such it was no doubt, did not
number more than five-and-twenty at the
outside. * Now they Were at the bank.

I could hardly see what happened, but
there seemed to be a moment’s pause;
probably someone had knocked and they
were waiting. A second later* a loud shout
rang through the street and I saw a group
of figures crowding round the door and
'pushing a way into my poor bank.

‘ The gods preserve Jones ! ’ I whispered.

‘ I hope the old fool won’t try to stop them. ’

Aq, I* spoke, I heard a short, sharp order *
front behind, ‘Now! Chaise!

•FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND *35

As the word was given another body of*
fifty or more rushed by us full tilt, and at
their head we jsaw the President, sword
in hand, running like a young man and <
beckoning his men on. Up the street
they swept. Involuntarily we waited a
moment to watch them. Just as they
came near the bank they sent up_ a
shout,

* The President ! the President ! Death
to traitors ! ’

*Then there was' a volley, and they closed
round the building. <

‘ Now for our turn, Christina,’ said I.

She grasped my arm tightly, and we
sped across the r<3ad and intp the wood.
It seemed darker than when I came
through before, or perhaps my eyes were
dazzled by the glare of the stre'et lamps.
But»still we got along pretty well, I help-
ing my companion with all my power.

Can we do it?’ she gasped.

Please God,’ said I ; 4 a clear quarter

23 6

A MAN OF MARK

•of an hour will do it, and they ought to
take that ‘to finish off the Colonel.'. For
I had little doubt of the issue of that
, mHeL

On we sped, and already we could see
the twinkle of the waves through the thin-
ning trees. Five hundred yards more,
and there lay life and liberty and love!

Well, of course, I might have known.
Everything had gone so smoothly up to
now, that any student of the laws of chance
could have foretold that fortune was ofily
delaying the inevitable slap in the face.
A plan that seemed wild and risky had
proved in the result as effectual as the
wisest schepie. By d natural principle
of compensation, the simplest obstacle was
to bring us to grief. ‘There’s many a
slip,’ says the proverb. Very likely!
One was enough for our business. "Fbr
just as we neared the edge of the wood, just
as our, eyes were gladdened by the full
sight ' of the sea across the intervening

FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND *37

patch of bare, land, the Signorina gave a.
cry of pain and, in spite of my* arm, fell
heavily to the ground. In a moment I
was on my knees by her side. An old
root growing out of the ground! That
was all! And there lay my dear girL
white and still.

I •

‘What is it, sweet?’ I whispered.

‘ My ankle ! ’ she murmured ; ‘ oh, Jack,
it hurts so ! ’ and with that she fainted.

Half-an-hour — thirty mortal (but seem-
ingly immortal) minutes I knelt by her
side ministering to her. I bound up the
poor foot, gave her brandy from my flask,
and I fanned her face with my handker-
chief. In a few minutes she came to, but
only, poor child, to sob with her bitter
pain. Move she could, not, and would not.
Again and again she entreated me to gd
and leave her. At last I persuaded her to
try and bear the agony of being carried in
my arms the rest of the way. I .raised
her as gently as I could, wrung to the

*38 A MAN OF MARK

■heart by her gallantly-stifled groan, and
slowly and painfully I made my way, thus
burthened', to the edge, of the wood.
There were no sentries in sight, and with
a new spasm of hope I crossed the open
land and neared the little wicket gate that
led to the jetty. A sharp turn came just
before we reached it, and, as I rounded
this with the Signorina lying yet in my
arms, I saw a horse and a man standing
by the gate. The horse was flecked with
foam and' had been ridden furiously. The
man was calm and cool. Of course he
was! It was the President!

My hands were full with my burden,
and before j could do anything, I saw the
muzzle of his revolver pointed full — At
me? Oh, no! At. the Signorina!

‘If you move a step I shoot her*
through the heart, Martin,* he said, *in
the quietest voice imaginable.

The Signorina looked up as she heard
his voice

Farewell to aureataland *39

‘ Put me down, Jack ! _ It’s no use, she •
said ; .* I knew how it would be?

I did not put her down, but I stood
there helpless, rooted to the ground.
‘What’s the matter with her? he

said. • , , ,

* p e ll and sprained her ankle, }

replied.

‘Come, Martin,’ said he, ‘it’s no go,
and you know it. A near thing; but
you’ve just lost.’

"Are you going to stop us ? ’ I said.

‘ Of course I am,’ said he.

* Let me put her down, and we 11 have

a fair fight.’ o

He shook his hdad.

‘ All very well for young men,’ he said.

‘ At my age if a man holds trumps he

keeps them.’

* How long have you been here ? ^ ^

•About two ’minutes. When I d'^n’t

see you at the bank I thought soma&ing
wis op, so I galliped on to her home.

240

A MAN OF MARK

•No one there! So I came- on here. A
• «

good shdt, eh ? '

The fall had done it. . But for that we
should have been safe.

‘Well?’ he said.

• In the bitterness of my heart- 1 could
hardly speak. But I was not going to
play either the cur or the fool, so I
said,

‘Your trick, sir, and therefor- your
lead! I must do what you tell me.’

' Honour bright, Martin ? ’

‘ Yes,’ said I, ‘I give you my word.
Take the revolver if you like,’ and I
nodded my head to the pocket where
if lay.

‘ No,' he said, ‘ I trust you.

‘ I bar a rescue,' said I.

'There will be no rescue,’ said he
grimly.

* If the Colonel comes—’

' The Colonel won’t come,’ he said.
‘Whose house is that?’

'FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND hi

It was my- boatman's..

‘ Bring her there. Poor dhild. she
suffers ! '

We knocked up the boatman, who thus ,
did not get his night’s rest after all. His
astonishment may be imagined.

4 Have you a bed ? ' said the President

4 Yes,’ he stammered, recognising his
interlocutor.

4 Then carry her up, Martin ; and you,
send your wife to. her.’

T took her up, and laid her gently on
bed. The President followed me.
Then we went downstairs again into the
little parlour^

4 Let us have a talk ; ’ he said ; and fie
added to the man , 4 Give us some brandy,
quick! And then go.’-

He was obeyed, and we were left alone,
with the dim light of a single candle.

The President sat down and began to
smoke. He offered me a cigar and I
took it. but he sgi(l nothin?. I was

Q

343

A MAN OF MARK

’surprised at his leisurely abstracted air.
Apparently he had nothing in the .world
to do but sit and keep ipe company.

‘ If your Excellency,’ said I, instinctively
giving him his old title, 'has business
‘elsewhere you can leave me safely. I
shall not break my word.’

' 1 know that, I know that/ he
answered. ‘But I’d rather stay here;
I want to have a talk/

' But aren’t there some things to settle
up in the town ? ’

'The doctor’s doing all that,’ he said.

‘ You see, there’s no danger now.
There’s no one left to lead them

e

against me/

‘Then the Colonel is — ?’

, ‘Yes/ he said gravely, ‘he is dead. I
shot him.’

‘ In the attack?’

Not exactly ; .the fighting was. over.
A vfery short affair, Martin. They
never had a chance ; and as soon* as

‘FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND *43

two or* throe had * fallen and the rest*

* •

saw tne, they threw up the spdnge.’

‘ And the Colonel ? ’

‘ He fought well. He killed two of
my fellows; then a lot of them flung
themselves on him and disarmed him/ *
‘ And you killed him in cold blood ? '•
The President smiled slightly.

‘ Six men fell in that affair — five besides
the Colonel. Does it strike you that you,
in fact, killed the five to enable ypu to run
aw*ay with the girl you loved ? ’

It hadn’t struck me in that light, but it
was quite irrelevant.

‘ But for your scheme I should have
come back without a blow,* he con-
tinued ; * but then I should have shot
McGregor just the same.’

* Because he led the revolt ? ’

“Because,’ said the President, 'he has
, been a traitor *from the beginning even
to die end — because he tried to rob me
of'all I held dear in, the world. If you

*44

A MAN OF MARK

■like,’ he added, with a shrug, 'because
he stood* between me and my will, So
I went up to him and told him his hour
was come, and I shot him through the
head. He died like a man, Martin ; I
will say that.’

. I could not pretend to regret the dead
man. Indeed, I had been near doing
the same deed myself. But I shrank
before this calm ruthlessness.

Another long pause followed. Then
the President said, «•

‘ I’m sorry for all this, Martin — sorry
you and I came to blows.’

‘ You played me false about the money,’
1‘said bitterly.

‘Yes, yes,’ he answered gently ; ‘ I don’t
blam$ you. You were bound to me by
no ties. Of course you saw my plan ? ’ '
‘ I supposed your Excellency meant' to
keep the money and throw' me over.’

‘ Not altogether,’ he said. ‘ Of course
I was bound to have the money. But it

* FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND 345

was the other thing, youknow. As far as
the money went, I would have taken care
you came to no harm.’

‘ What was it, then ? ’

‘ I thought you understood all along,'
he said .with some surprise. ‘ I saw you-
were my rival with Christina, and my
game was to drive you out of the country
by making the place too hot for you.’

‘ She told me you didn’t suspect about
me and her till quite the end.’

4 Did she ? ’ he answered with a smile ;
‘ I must be getting clever to deceive two
such wide-awake young people. Of course
I saw it all along. But you had more grit
than I thought. I’$e never been so neafly
done by any man as by you.'

‘But for luck you .would have* .been,
'said I.

4 Yes, but I count luck as one of my
resources,' he feplied.

* Well, what are you going to do now ? ’

•He took no notice, |>ut went on,

246

A MAN OF MARK

• ‘ You played too high. It was all or
nothing with you, just as it is with me.
But for that we could have stood to-
gether. I’m sorry, Martin ; I like you,
you know.’ -

• For the life of me I had never been able
1 tq help liking him.

‘ But likings mustn’t interfere with duty,’
he went on, smiling. ‘What claim have
you at my hands?’

* Decent burial, I suppose,’ I answered.

He got up and paced the room for' a
moment or two. I waited with some
anxiety, for life is worth something to
a young man, even when things look
blackest, and I never was a hero.

‘ I make you this offer,’ he said at last.
‘ Your boat lies there ready. Get into her
and go ; otherwise — ’

‘ I see,’ said I. ‘ And you will marry
her?’

' Yes,’ he said.

‘Against her will,? ’

* FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND *4?

He looked at me with something like

pity.,

1 Who can tell what a womah’s will will
be in a week? In less than that she will
marry me cheerfully. I hope you may
grieve as short a time as she will.’

In my inmost heart I knew it was true.*
I had staked everything, not for a woman’s
love, but for the whim of a girl ! For a
moment it was too hard for me, and 1
bowed my head on the table by me and
hid my face.

Then he came and put his hand on*
mine, and said,

‘ Yes, Martin ; young and old, we are
all alika Yhey’rft not wortji quarrelling
for. But Nature’s too strong.’

' May I see her before I go ?’ 1 asked.

‘ Yes,’ he said.

• ‘Alone?’

4 Yes,’ he said once more. ‘ Go now —
if she can see you.'

• • I went up and cautiously opened the

A MAN OF MARK

248

door. The Signorina was lying on the
bed, with a shawl' dver her. She seemed
to be asleep. I bent over her and kissed
her. She opened her eyes, and said, in
a weary voice,

, * Is it you, Jack ? ’

* * Yes, my darling, said I. * I am going.
I must go or die; and whether I go or
die, I must be alone.’

She was strangely quiet, even apathetic.
As I knelt down t>y her she raised her-
self, and took my face between her hands
<and kissed me, not passionately, but
tenderly.

'My poor Jack!’ she said; ‘it was no
user dear. It is no use to fi'gh^ against
him.’

Here was her strange subjection to that
influence again.

* You love me ? ’ I cried in my pain.. ,

' Yes,’ she said, ' but I am very tired ;
and he. will be good to me.’

Without another word I went from her.

FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND *49

with the bitter knowledge that my great
grief found but a pafe* reflection in her
heart.

B

‘I am ready to go,’ I said to the
President.

' Con>e, then,’ he replied. ‘ Here, takp
these, you may want them,’ and he thrust*
a bundle of notes into my hand (some of
my own from the bank I afterwards dis-
covered).

Arrived at the boat, 1 got in mechanic-
ally and made all preparations for the
start.

Then the President took my hand.

‘Good-bye, Jack Martin, and good
luck. Spm& day* we may meet again.
Just now there’s no room for us both
here. You bear no malice?’

‘No, sir,’ said I. ‘A fair figfit, and
you’ve won.’

As I was pushing off, he added,

‘ When you arrive, send me word.’

• I nodded silently.

250

A MAN OF MARK

• ‘ Good-bye, and good luck,' he said
again.

I turned the boat’s head out to sea,
t and went forth on my lonely way into
the night.

CHAPTER XV

A DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENT

A S far as I am concerned, this story

has now reached an end. With
• •

ftiy departure from Aureataland I re-
entered the world of humdrum life, and
since that memorable night in 1884,
nothing has befallen me worthy of a
polite reader's attention. »I have * en-
dured the drudgery incident to earning
a living ; I have enjoyed the relaxations
every wise man makes for himself. But
( should ( be guilty of unpardonable -
egotism if I supposed that I myself
was the only, or the most, interesting
Subject presented in^the foregoing pages,
* 5 »

* 5 *

A MAN OF MARK

and I feel I shall merely be doing my
duty in briefly recording the facts in my
possession ’concerning the, other persons
whd have, figured in this record and the
country where its scene was laid.

. I did not, of course, return to England
on leaving Aureataland. I had no desire
to explain in person to the Directors all
the facts with which they will now be in
a position to acquaint themselves. I was
conscious that, at the last at all events,

I had rather subordinated their interests
to my own necessities, and I knew well
that my conduct would not meet with
the indulgent judgment that it perhaps
requires. After all, men who' have lost
three hundred thousand dollars can hardly
be expected to be impartial, and I saw
nd reason for submitting myself to a
biassed tribunal. I preferred to seek°my
fortune in a fresh country ‘(and, I may
add* under a fresh name), and I am happy
to say ’that my prosperity in the land of*

' A DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENT 253

my adoption, has gene far to justify the
President’s favourable estimate of my
financial abilities. My sudden ‘disappear-
ance excited some remark, and people,
were even found to insinuate that the
dollars .went the same way as I did. i
have never troubled myself to contradict*
these scandalous rumours, being content
to rely on the handsome vindication from
this charge which the President published.
In addressing the House of Assembly
shortly after his resumption of power, he
referred at length to the circumstances'
attendant on the late revolution, and
remarked that although he was unable
to acquit Mr Martin of most unjustifiable
intrigues with the rebels, yet he was in
a position to assure them, as Jie had
already assured those to whom Mr
Martin was primarily responsible, that
that gentleman’s hasty flight was dictated
solely ’ by a consciousness of political
guilt, and that, in , money matters, Mr

*54

A MAN OF MAltK

Martin’s hands were as dean as his

own. The reproach that had fallen on

the fair fame of Aureataland in this

*

matter was due not to that able but mis-

e

guided young man, but to those un-
principled persons who, in the . pursuit
"of t their designs, had not hesitated to
, plunder and despoil friendly traders,
established in the country under the
sanction of public faith.

The reproach to which his Excellency
eloquently referred consisted in the fatt
'that not a cent of those three hundred
thousand dollars which lay in the bank
that night was ever seen again! The
tjiedry was Jthat the Colonel* had made
away with them, and the President took
great pains to prove that under the law
of nations the restored Government could
not be held responsible for this occurrence.

I know as little about the fcw of nations
as the 'President Himself, but I felt quite
sure that whatever that exalted code might

" A DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENT ass

say (and it generally seems to justify the
conduct of all parties 'alike), none of that
money would ^ver find its way back to
the Directors’ pockets. In this matter I
must say his Excellency behaved to me
with scrupulous consideration ; not a word
passed his lips about the second loap , 1
about that unlucky cable, or any other
dealings with the money. For all he said,
my account of the matter, posted to the
Directors immediately after my departure,
stood unimpeached. The Directors, how-
ever, took a view opposed to his Excel-
lency’s, and relations became so strained
that they were contemplating the with-
drawal ofaheir business from Ayhittingteuri
altogether, when events occurred which
modified their action. . Before I lag down
my pen I must give some account of these
matters, and I cannot do so better than by
inserting a letter which I had the honour
to receive from his Excellency, some two
years after I last saw Jhim. I had obeyed

256

A MAN OF MARK

■his wish in communicating my address to
him, but up to this time had received only
a short but friendly note, acquainting me
with the fact of his marriage to the Sig-
norina, and expressing good wishes for my
welfare in my new sphere of actioq. The
' matters to which the President refers be-
came to some extent public property soon
afterwards, but certain other terms of the
arrangement are now given to the world
for the first time.

* i

The letter ran as follows: —

‘My Dear Martin, — As an old in-
habitant of Aureataland, you will be inter-
ested in th® news I hhve to teH you. I
also take pleasure in hoping that, in spite
of bygone differences, your friendly feel-
ings towards myself will make you glad
to hear news of my fortunes.

‘ You are no doubt acquainted generally
with die course of events here since you
left us. As regards jjrivat® fronds. I have

A DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENT 257

not indeed much to tell you. You will
not be surprised to learn that JkJhnny Carr
(who always speaks of you with the utmost
regard) has done the most sensible thing
he ever did in his life in making Donna
Antonia his wife. She is a thoroughly
good girl, although she seems to hjivfe
a very foolish prejudice against Christina.*
I was able to assist the young people’s
plans by the gift of the late Colonel
McGregor’s estates, which under our law
passed to the Head of the State on that
gentleman’s execution for high treason".
You will be amused to hear of another
marriage in our circle. The doctor and
Madame Devargbs have made a rftat$h
of it, and society rejoices to think it has
now heard the last of the late monsieur •

4 *

and his patriotic sufferings. Jones, I sup-
pose you know, left us about a year ago.
The poor old* fellow never recovered from
his fright on that night, to say nothing of
"the cold he caught in your draughty coal-

R

A MAN OF MARK

*58

cellar, where he took 'refuge.' The bank
relieved him in response to his urgent
petitions, and they’ve sent jus out a young
Puritan, to whom it would be quite in
vain to apply for a timely little loan.

1 wish I could give you as satisfactory
'Jtn ^account of public affairs. You were
c more or less behind the scenes over here,
so you know that to keep the machine
going is by no means an easy task. I
have kept it . going, single-handed, for
fifteen years, and though it’s the custom
fo call me a mere adventurer (and I don’t
say that’s wrong), upon my word I think
I’ve given them a pretty decent Govern-
ment But live had enough of its by now.
The fact is,' my dear ‘'Martin, I’m not so
young as I was. In years I’m not much
past middle age, but I’ve had the devil
of a life of it, and I shouldn’t be surprised
if old Marcus Whittinghaitfs lease was
pretty nearly up. At any rate, my only
chance/ so Anderson tells me, is to get a *

A DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENT 259

rest, and I'm going to give myself that
chance. 1 had thought at fiipt of trying
to find a successor (as I have been denied
an heir of my body); and I thought of
you. But, while. I was considering this*
1 received a confidential proposal from the

Government of ’ (here the President

named the state of which Aureataland had
formed part). f ‘ They were very anxious
to get back their province ; at the same
time, they were not at all anxious to try
•conclusions with 'me again. In short, they
offered, if Aureataland would came back,
a guarantee of local autonomy and full
freedom ; they would take on themselves
the bur^eif of the debt, and last, but not
least, they would ofifer the present Presi-'
dent of the Republic a compensation of
500,000 dollars.

. ‘ % 1 have not yet finally accepted the
offer, but I am going to do so-obtaining,
as a matter of form, the sanction of the
Assembly. I have made them* 5 double

a6o

A MAN OF MARK

tjheir offer to me, but .in the .public docu-
ments the'jnoney is t6 stand at the original
figure. This recognition of my services,
together with my little savings (restored,
my dear Martin, to the wash-stand), will
make me pretty comfortable in my old
age, and leave a competence for my widow.
Aureataland has had a run* alone ; if there
had been any grit in tie people they
would have made a nation of themselves.
There isn’t any, and I’m not going to
slave myself for them any longer. No>
doubt they’ll be very well treated, and to
tell the truth, I don’t much care if they
aren’t. After all, they’re a mongrel lot.

I* know you’ll be pleased ' to* hear of
this arrangement, as* it gives your old
masters a better chance of getting their
money, fbr, between ourselves, they’d never
have got it out of me. At the risfc of
shocking your feelings, I must confess that
your resolution only postponed the day of
repudiation.

A DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENT 261

' I hoped to have asked you some day
to rejoin us here. Ad matters §£and, I am
more likely to t come and find* you; for,
when released, Christina and I are going
to bend our steps to the States. And. we*
hope to come soon. There’s a little diffi-
culty outstanding about the terms on whi$»
the Golden Hoflse and my other property
are to pass to tlfe new Government ; this I
hope to compromise by abating half my
clainr in private, and giving it all up in
public. Also I *have had to bargain for
the recognition of Johnny Carr’s rights to
the Colonel’s goods. When all this is
settled there will be nothing to keep me,
and I shall* leave. ‘here without much re-
luctance. The first man I shall come and
see is you, and we’ll have some frolics to-
gether, if my old carcass holds oht. * But
tbe truth is, my boy, I’m not the man 1
was. I’ve put too much steam *on all my
life, and I must pull up now, or thp boiler
.will burst.

A MAN OF MARK

262 ,

Ji

. ‘ Christina sends her love. She is‘ as
* •

anxious tq see you as I am. But you must
wait till I*am dead to make love to her. —
Ever your sincere friend,

‘ Marcus W. Wiiittingham.’

«

off As I write, I hear that the arrange-
. ment is to be carried but. So ends
Aureataland’s brief histoity as a nation ;
so’ ends the story of her' national debt,
more happily than I ever thought it would.
I confess to a tender recollection of the
sunny, cheerful, lazy, dishonest little place,
where I spent four such eventful years.
Perhaps I love it because my romance
\yas° played t there, as ‘1 should Jove any
place where I had ' seen the Signorina.
For I am not cured, I don’t go about
moaning — I enjoy life. But, in spite of
my affection for the President, hardly a
day passes that I don’t curse that accursed
tree-root.

And she ? what does she feel ?.

A DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENT

%

I don’t know. I don’t think I ever die)
know. But I have fi&d a note, from her,
and this is what she says : —

%

‘Fancy seeing pld Jack again — poor*
forsaken jack ! Marcus is very kind (hut
very ill, poor fellow) ; but I shall likeSf}
see you, Jack. | Do you remember wnat
I was like ? I’fi still rather pretty. This
is in confjjjance, Jack. Marcus thinks
youilK" run away from us, now we are
coming to — town ’ (that’s whe're I live).

* But I don’t think you will. •

‘ Please meet me at the depot, Jack,

1 2. 1 5 train. Marcus is coming by a later
one, so l shall be* desolate if you don’t
come. And bring 4 h&t white rose with
you. Unless you produce it, I won’t speak
to you. * Christina.’

Well, with* another man’s wife, this is
rather embarrassing. But a business man
•^an’tleave the place where his business is

MAN OF MARK

4*4

because a foolish girl insists on coming
there.

And as’ I am here, I may as well be
civil and -go to meet her. And, oh, well 1
as I happen to have the thing, I may as
well take it with me. It can’t do any

m.

THF hND

COLStOtr and COMPANY* MHHNV