The girl lied tremulously, panic-stricken at the threat. "Before G.o.d, I am his wife!" she maintained. "And if this marriage has a flaw, then I will stand beside the prison gates and remarry him as he comes forth."

"He will not come forth," Ramon declared, harshly.

"Oh yes! And now will you take me to him?"

"NO!" her father bellowed. "You are my daughter, you are under my roof, and here you shall stay until you give up this madness and this man."

"That I can never do," she retorted, proudly. "You see, I am not all Spanish, I have in me also the blood of his people, and that makes me steadfast. I could not doubt him if I wished."

"I forbid you to go near him. Come! Do you promise?" She inclined her dark head. "I must learn more of this affair at once. You will find your senses, miss, or if you do not you will spend your life in meditation and prayer--that much I promise you."

"I do not wish to enter a convent," she said, with white lips. "I wish to be happy. When Keerk is free I shall go to him. Now, if you please, I--think I shall go away." She turned and went out of the big high-ceilinged room, and not until she had reached the hall did her feet waver or her head droop.

When the two men were alone, Garavel said, brokenly: "She is the first to bring disgrace upon our name. Is there absolute proof that the man is guilty, Ramon?"

"Proof?" Alfarez turned dazed eyes from the door through which Gertrudis had gone. "Proof? I believe so. I have not thought much of the matter as yet, but--I think there will be proof in plenty.

Oh yes!"

"Come then. I must go to see him. Perhaps--oh, G.o.d! Perhaps what?

My head is afire, my heart is broken for you, my poor boy."

XXIX

A LAST APPEAL

That was not a pleasant interview for Anthony. His surroundings were not such as to lend him a.s.surance, and Garavel's grief at his daughter's disgrace was really distressing. Moreover, the unequivocal threat to annul the marriage filled him with alarm.

His only consolation came from the fact that Gertrudis had made known the truth without the slightest hesitation. That showed that she was loyal, at any rate. Kirk tried to a.s.sure his caller that he would have no trouble in proving his innocence, but Garavel seemed very little concerned with that phase of the affair, and continued to bewail the dishonor that had fallen upon his name.

Kirk's pride arose at this, and he exclaimed with some heat:

"My dear Mr. Garavel, if you are so blamed sure that I did all these things, why did you come to see me?"

"It was to learn if she spoke the truth."

"Oh, we're married, right enough. And you'll have some difficulty in breaking it up before I get out."

"You expect, then, to prove your innocence easily?"

"I do."

"But I hear there are other serious charges."

"It is quite the same with them."

"But--suppose you should not clear yourself of this--murder--would you wish to drag down my daughter's name?"

"Of course not."

"I understand you have not spoken of this marriage. Perhaps you might consent to remain silent. If by any chance you should be convicted of guilt, what satisfaction could you derive from injuring me and mine?"

"None at all, sir."

"I am rich," Garavel went on, meaningly. "If you are acquitted, I might, perhaps, arrange amply for your future--upon conditions."

"In other words, if I am to be hanged or shot or whatever it is they do to people down here, you'll expect me to keep my mouth shut on general principles, and if I'm acquitted you'll pay me well to disappear. Is that it? Well, there is some family pride to that." He laughed lightly.

"My political future may depend upon it."

"If I can help you in that way I'll gladly keep silent as long as you wish, but I don't think I care to make any further terms."

"Make sure of this," snapped the father, "your marriage will be annulled, no matter what you prove or fail to prove. Already Chiquita is repentant, and I shall not rest until she is free. You have done me a great injury, and I shall not forget it."

On the following morning the leading American attorney of the city called at the jail, announcing that he had been retained as counsel, but refusing to tell who had employed him. Supposing, of course, that he had been sent by friends who wished no publicity in the matter, Kirk did not press him for information. Together they outlined their defence as best they could. With characteristic optimism, Kirk insisted upon treating the charge against him as of little consequence, and it was not until he had undergone his preliminary hearing that he fully realized the gravity of his situation.

To his unspeakable indignation, the officer who had discovered Cortlandt's body swore that he had seen the deceased pa.s.s him shortly before the time of his death, evidently taking a walk along the water's edge for relief from the heat, and that immediately afterward--perhaps a minute or so--the prisoner had also pa.s.sed, going in the same direction! There was a street light close by, he said, and there could be no possible mistake as to Anthony's ident.i.ty. A few moments later there had been a pistol- shot, m.u.f.fled, but unmistakable, and the policeman had hastened in the direction from which it came. The prisoner had appeared suddenly out of the darkness and hurried past. In the politest manner possible, the witness declared, he had questioned him regarding the shot, but Mr. Anthony had neither stopped nor answered; on the contrary, he had broken into a run. The officer had considered this strange behavior, but, being at all times most respectful toward Americans, he had made no effort to detain him.

Pa.s.sing on, he had found the body of the dead man. A revolver was beside it. It was shocking! It had quite upset the witness. He had blown his whistle, and seeing a light in the Governor's mansion close by had called there for a.s.sistance. Soon afterward another officer had arrived upon the scene.

When this amazing testimony was translated to Kirk he was astounded; but his indignation was as nothing to that which swept over him when a servant in the Alfarez household swore to having actually witnessed the murder.

This fellow declared that he had been troubled greatly with a toothache. Toward morning of the night in question, too restless for sleep, he had gone out upon the sea wall. Even now, his face was swollen, and he made a determined effort to show the court the particular tooth which had made him an unwilling beholder of the tragedy. Overcome by exhaustion, he had fallen asleep after a time, and he was awakened by the sounds of a quarrel. On opening his eyes, he saw two Americans, one of whom was Senor Cortlandt, and the other Kirk Anthony. Being utterly ignorant of their language, he had no means of knowing what was said, nor did he consider the altercation serious until the large man shot the Senor Cortlandt. Then, being terror-stricken at what he had beheld, he had run away, entirely forgetting his toothache, which, by the grace of G.o.d, was quite gone. That was all he knew of the matter. He recognized Anthony as the man who had done the shooting. He was troubled greatly with toothaches.

It all seemed like some grotesque, practical joke, and Kirk at first could not believe that the evidence of these witnesses could have weight. But he soon became convinced that this was no laughing matter. Since they had perjured themselves so readily, it was evident that some determined influence was back of them, and how far that influence might carry it was hard to tell. The reason for it was all very simple, of course, and yet he was at a loss how to combat it. Wade was called next and told the story of that d.a.m.ning incident at the supper-party, being corroborated by the others. Then there were several witnesses who swore to inconsequent things, such as waiters at the Hotel Central, and the doctor who had examined Cortlandt.

For once in his careless life the young man realized that he was face to face with something bigger and stronger than his own determination, and it daunted him. He began to see that he had underestimated these foreigners, for it seemed an easy matter to convict an innocent man in these Central American courts. He recalled certain ridiculous stories of Spanish justice which he had laughed at; he remembered Mrs. Cortlandt's vivid tale of an execution she had once beheld in the court-yard of Chiriqui prison; and suddenly he decided to cable for Darwin K. Anthony-- the one man who was strong enough to save him.

When it came time for him to speak, he told a straight story about his own actions on that night, and he was corroborated by Allan; but he knew that their words had little weight against that other testimony. Of course, he was remanded for trial, and that night the newspapers of the city were crowded with columns of sensational reading-matter bearing upon the crime.

Anson, the lawyer, gave him a ray of encouragement as he left.

"Don't go too much on this hearing," he said. "I think we'll pull you out all right."

"You THINK! I dare say Ramon Alfarez can get a dozen men to perjure themselves as easily as he got those two."

"Exactly. But I have a little coup that I intend to spring at the right moment."

"For Heaven's sake, tell me what it is."

"I'm sorry, but I can't just yet. In the first place, one must handle these people exactly right or they explode."

"But give me an idea at least. I'm really interested in the outcome of this case, you know."

Anson smiled. "Of course you are, and I'll tell you as soon as I can, but not now."

"These Spiggoties would enjoy standing me up against a wall with my head in a rag--they'd make it a holiday and ring all the bells in town."