The League of the Leopard - Part 29
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Part 29

The man came up at a gallop, with a hammer and a bag of tools, and, talking volubly, remounted the wheel. Then he lashed his horses viciously, and they were off, pressing on at a gallop almost to the divide, where, partly bathed in silver light by the moon, and partly wrapped in black shadow by the mighty peak, the great horseshoe vale of Oratava sloped to the Atlantic. Here the driver turned.

"The brake of this coche is also broke. I have ten children, senoras, and all very small, and if we must go down at the full speed it will be one more ten shillings for the risk."

Mrs. Chatterton, glancing down toward the lights that twinkled apparently vertically beneath her, and the glimmering plain of the Atlantic very far below, somewhat naturally hesitated, and was about to speak, when Lilian thrust a gold coin into the man's brown palm.

"You shall have more when I come back from Tampena. Only lose no time!"

she urged.

The driver, who had been deluded on various occasions by British emigrants bound for the Cape, first prudently bit the coin, then piously crossed himself, after which he lashed the horses, and the carriage began the long descent like a run-away locomotive or a thunderbolt, as Mrs. Chatterton afterward said. The road was good, but it dipped in zig-zags down the steep hillside, and they went round the bends madly with two wheels in the air; while twice the elder lady held her breath as a straggling mule team rushed past. She prayed spasmodically that the ancient harness might not break.

The walnuts gave place to fig-trees, the figs in turn to vines, and still the straining gear held fast, and the bouncing vehicle hung together behind the lathered beasts. Then the terraced vines were replaced by maize, and when the broad leaves of bananas raced up, as it were, to meet them under the moon, the driver, shouting his loudest, reined his team in outside a little hill posada.

"Horses and a trusty guide for the sugar-mill!" he roared, beating on the door. "Here are two mad English senoras with a purse of gold!"

CHAPTER XVIII

MAXWELL'S CONFIDENCE

Though the English are not greatly loved in any possessions of Spain, their gold has the power of rousing even the contemplative Canario out of his usual lethargy, and when the driver shouted, drowsy men hurried about the posada. The host had two good mules, and a vine-grower would be glad to act as guide, but there was, he said, a difficulty. He had only one saddle fit for a lady and with the deepest respect for the senora, he feared she was too old to venture over the perilous bridle paths at that time of night; with which opinion Mrs. Chatterton quite concurred. Lilian glanced at her aunt, and then toward the bare-legged peasant, who, with a great blanket rolled about his shoulders, stood, hat in hand, before her. There was a rude dignity about this vine-dresser which pleased her, and moving forward she kissed her aunt.

"You must go on alone to the hotel at Oratava," she said.

Mrs. Chatterton had long grown accustomed to being ruled by her niece, and though she protested, she did so feebly. Even while she spoke the girl put her foot in the hand of the vine-dresser, who lifted her to the saddle, and then sprang into his own. He swept his battered hat to his knee with the grace of a courtier as he pa.s.sed Mrs. Chatterton, and almost before the elder lady realized what had happened, the two mounted figures had vanished among the maize. With a sigh and an inarticulate prayer, she bade the driver proceed to Oratava, as slowly as he liked.

Lilian never counted the risks she ran during that ride. The two strangely-a.s.sorted companions soon left the maize behind and rode over broken lava and scoriae; dipped, sliding and stumbling, into a barranco filled with impenetrable shadow, out of which the guide had hard work to drag the horses on the opposite side; and then skirted the dizzy brink of another vast volcanic fissure in the black hillside. Lilian, looking down into the depths that yawned beneath her, guessed aright that a slip would mean destruction, while for once her heart failed her when the peasant pulled the mules up where the pathway seemed to break off at the brink. He pointed toward the lights far down in the hollow, saying in Castilian:

"That is the mill. The senorita rides well. If she will let the mule find its own way she may, with the blessing of heaven, come down safely."

Lilian, partly comprehending, shuddered for a moment as she glanced into the great volcanic pit, then, slacking the bridle, laid one hand on the high peak of the saddle, as with the cinders rattling away beneath them, they commenced the descent. No beast but a Canary pack-mule trained to carry wine kegs over the wild hill trails could have come down alive, and it seemed to be sliding with legs braced stiffly most of the time, and then picking its way foot by foot down the face of an almost precipitous descent. Fortunately the darkness hid the worst terrors; they came down safely, and swept through tall cane on the level toward a group of dusky buildings, which grew plainer ahead.

Then the guide shouted, there was a howling of dogs, and Lilian, dropping stiffly from the saddle, walked into the presence of her uncle in the Spanish sugar-grower's dwelling. Chatterton, who had been poring late over some machine drawings, rose abruptly at the sight of her.

"Good heavens, Lily! Have you flown here?" he cried. "What has happened girl? Is your aunt ill?"

"Don't ask questions! Sit still a minute, and listen! My aunt is well and should be safe in Oratava by now. Mr. Maxwell is in Santa Cruz, and brings serious news of Hilton."

Chatterton stiffened to attention as he listened. Then, because he was above all things a man of action and could let side issues wait, he asked no questions but patted his niece's shoulder.

"Well done, my girl. Well done!" he said. "G.o.d forbid that my dead partner's son should perish while I have the power to help him. If it's money Maxwell needs, he shall have it if there's sufficient in the Bank of Spain. It is lucky I opened credit to show these blunderers how to run their mill. You will stay here with the Senora Martin, and rejoin your aunt to-morrow. I shall start, but not by your road, as soon as these loafers can get horses ready."

"I am going with you," Lilian said, quietly. She was very tired; but with Dane's life at stake, she dare not take any chances. That her uncle would do his best to reach Maxwell in time, she knew; and yet, if something should happen on the way! If his horse should slip on those treacherous lava trails!

Chatterton saw the pale lips close tightly with a determination that he never attempted to resist.

"Very well, Lily," he acquiesced; "but it will be a hard ride."

In an incredibly short time the horses were ready, and Chatterton and his niece followed their guide throughout the remaining hours of the long night. Few words were spoken by either of them as they urged their horses forward. At dawn they were still riding, Lilian feverishly anxious, Chatterton grimly determined.

A big gray-painted steamer lay rolling in the harbor of Santa Cruz, and Maxwell stood on the hotel steps impatiently glancing at his watch. He had given Miss Chatterton his conditional promise that he would await her return, but he dare not miss the steamer. A feathery column of vapor roaring aloft from her steam-pipe indicated that all was ready. He had less than ten minutes to spare, and there was still no sign of Miss Chatterton.

"Five more minutes. There's the first bell now!"

Three of the minutes pa.s.sed, and Maxwell was hurrying toward the boat, when somebody shouted his name, and turning, he saw two white-flecked horses race into the plaza. One kept on to the hotel; almost before the other stopped, Thomas Chatterton leaped to the ground.

"You're not going in that boat!" he gasped. "Can't you understand me?

You are going back to the Coast instead!"

"I'm afraid I can't, sir," Maxwell replied with a puzzled air. "I don't want to be uncivil, but I dare not waste a moment. I must catch the steamer."

"You shan't!" persisted Chatterton, his red face growing purple when Maxwell shook his hand off his arm. "Confound you! Stop and listen! I owed Hilton's father more than I can ever repay his son, and Lilian told me what has befallen him. Well, if it's money you are short of, I'm not a poor man, and you can have as much as they hold in the bank here if you want it to rescue your partner. Now, don't let any foolish pride lead you into manslaughter. I'm doing you no favor, but making a commercial investment. Call me sleeping partner or anything you like, but don't throw your comrade's life away."

Maxwell looked his relief.

"I am not quite a fool, sir, and dare not refuse. It only remains for me to express my grat.i.tude."

"Grat.i.tude be consumed!" said Chatterton, cheerily. "Call it business.

Now we'll order the best breakfast they can serve us in this place, and you can tell me the whole thing again."

Two days later when Maxwell boarded a steamer bound for the West Coast, Chatterton and his niece went on board with him. Lilian was both relieved and sorry when the iron-master hurried away in search of the purser to make sure that several bags of silver currency were put in safe keeping. She had something to say to Maxwell, but the task was difficult.

"I shall always take shame upon myself for what I said on the balcony,"

she began. "You are a very loyal partner, and I wish you G.o.dspeed."

The words were simple, but because, during the fateful moments when the two stood on the balcony, the veil which covered their inmost thoughts had been drawn aside, they cost Lilian an effort, and meant a good deal.

They sent a curious thrill to the heart of Maxwell.

"I meant all that I said one other night, and I am ready to prove it,"

he said. "Whether I shall ever return or not, I say it solemnly, only G.o.ds knows; but if I live to reach our camp, I think Hilton Dane will."

For a moment Lilian's eyes grew hazy, and she looked away from him.

Then, though there was moisture on her lashes, she turned fully toward her companion, holding out her hand.

"Heaven send you both back safe! You are a good man, and very generous.

I knew it the evening we pa.s.sed the Hallows Brig--but----"

"Destiny arranges these things for us," Maxwell interrupted quietly. "I am glad that your good wishes follow me to Africa."

Thomas Chatterton came up panting as he spoke, the warning of the last bell broke through the rattle of the windla.s.s, and Maxwell bent bareheaded over Lilian's hand. Then she and Chatterton went down the side together, a deep-toned whistle vibrated above the waters as the steamer slowly forged ahead, and Maxwell saw a white-gowned figure in the boat beneath her side turn with a farewell smile and wave a hand to him. Once more he raised his hat, and when the boat slid astern Lilian's eyes grew hazy as she gazed after the departing vessel.

"That man will go far," said Chatterton. "Once he makes up his mind the devil himself would hardly turn him. He is one of the steely, quiet kind who are never more in earnest than when they are silent, but I am anxious. He is bound for a very deadly country."

Cool breezes followed the steamer to the African coast, and Maxwell had recovered part of his vigor before the first palm-crowned bluff rose out of the sea. He had sufficient funds at his disposal, but arduous work to do, and he held himself apart from the few pa.s.sengers, thinking earnestly. Among other things he decided to fit out the relief expedition at Redmond's factory at Little Mahu, because, though more difficult, the road from there was shorter and less likely to be watched; and he surmised that Rideau, who must hear of his presence on the coast sooner or later, would expect him to start from Castro's factory. Maxwell knew he had not seen the last of their treacherous partner.