THE LIBERATIONIST

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13778, 17 June 1908, Page 10

THE LIBERATIONIST

BY HAROLD BLNDLOSS. [COPYRIGHT.] ; CHAPTER XVlll.—(Continued.) The' little, portly lady waddled away and a minute or two later Benic-ia rose languidly, and moved 'toward* the- companion door through which she had dis- ' appeared. Instead of descending the stairj way, the girl slipped out by the other j door, and flitted forward in the shadow I of the deckhouse until she came upon Desj mond standing beneath the bridge. | " You. do not eeeui to notice things tonight. I signed to you twice," she said. 1 Desmond smiled. "' I tow you," he said. j "Still, I wasn't quite sure that another j of my guests did not do so, too. You have something to say to me." ' Bcnicia turned and glanced down the long deck. There was nobody visible on that part of it. " Yes," she said, a trine breathlessly. " Still, nobody must know that I have talked to you alone." Desmond opened the door of the little room beneath the bridge. A lamp burned in it, and he flung a shade across the port before he drew the girl iu, and then closing the door, leaned with his back against it. "I do not think we shall be .disturbed," he said. Benicia sat still a moment looking at him. It was in tho case of a young woman from The Peninsula a very unusual thing she had done, but there was inconsequent courage in her, and a certain quiet imperiousuess in her manner. You have coal and water on board?" she said. " I have," said Desmond. " I have also clearance papers for British Nigeria, but we haven't steam up. You see, 1 expected to stay here at least a day or two." " Then you; must raise it. You must sail for the Bahia Santiago before tomorrow." "You have word of Ormsgill?" and Desmond became suddenly intent. " He is a man who is never late, but on this occasion he is a week or two before his time. Well, I dare say we can sail to-morrow. You will tell me what you know?" He leaned against the door with a quiet, thoughtful face while she did so, and then the Celtic temperament revealed itself in the flash in his eyes. " It will evidently be a tight fit, but we'll get him if I have to arm every man on board and bring him off," he eaid. " That there may be complications afterwards doesn't in the least matter." "Ah," said Benieia, "you are one who would do » good deal for a friend." Desmond looked at her with a little wry fsmiic. " Miss Figuera," he said, slowly, "I think I would gladly do a very great deal for yon." A just perceptible flicker of colour crept into the girl's face. "But," ishc said, " what you are about- to do now is for your friend, Ormsgill.'. "Yes," said Desmond, still with the curious little smile. "In one way, at least, I suppose it is." Benieia turned and faced him, with the colour growing plainer in her cheeks, and for a moment there was hot anger in her,"- j for (she knew what he meant. Then the fierce resentment vanished suddenly, as sno once more met hie eyes. There was .something that .suggested a deep regret in them, and his masner was. wholly deferential. "i just wish you to understand that if I fail it will not be because I have not done all I can," he said. "You see, 1 would, at. least, like to keep your good; opinion, and in spit's of every effort one can't • always be successful. Still, if it is i possible, I* will bring Ormsgill tafely off. 1 As you say, he is my friend." ,":' There was silence for, .perhaps, half a.minute, and during it each knew what the" other was thinking. Then Benicia made this clear. "Ah," she said, "you are a very gener--' ou&' man." Sho_ stopped a moment, aud... there was a faint tremble in her voice when she turned to him again. You have; come from La.s Palmas?" "1 have,' said Desmond. "I saw Miss i Ratcliife there. I think I may venture to I tell you that Ormsgill will never marry j her." I uejikia's face flamed, but the colour died i out of it again, and she looked at him 1 quietly. " To no one else could I have i forgiven that. Still, one can forgive overy- ! thing to one who has your courage— i devotion." " | Dromond made a little gesture. " Well," j he said, simply, " we sail before to-inor- I row, and I will do what I can. There i.5 j this in my favouryour friends probably don't know where Ormsgill is headim* | for." ° ; .Then the girl half-rote with oonsterna-'j tion in her eyes, for there was a tapping j at the door, but Desmond's hand fell on { her shoulder and.gently pressed her back j again. Next moment "he leaned forward '< and turned the lamp out before he threw ' the door open. ! '•Well," lie said, "what do you want?! 1 am, as you tec, just coming out." j There was moonlight outside, though the f awnings dimmed if. and just there the : bridge flung a shadow on'the deck, and I he recognised with the first glance that it was one of his guests who had tapped ' upon the door which he flung carelwsiy ! to behind him. "" • ", : "One wondered where you had gone ! to." said the man. ' j Desmond laughed, and slipping his hand ! beneath his companion's arm strolled aft i with him, but he sighed with relief when i a.< they rejoined the otheis on. the oppo- ! site side of the deck-house lie saw Benicia ! uheady sitting there. He did not know j how; the had contrived it, until he re- I membered that to slip through the com- j panion would shorten, the distance. It. was, however, half an hour she found an opportunity of standing beside him for a moment or two. ' " It .--.•ems that, one, is watcTiwlT she said. 'You must be careful. ** Desmond was on the whole not. sorry when his guests took themselves away, and he' laughed as he stood at the gangway shaking hands with them. " ■ "I am afraid .1 .-luill not be ashore tomorrow." he said. "It is very likely that we shall be out at sea by then." One or two of them expressed their 'regret, and the boat slid away, while some little time afterwards Dom Clomente glanced at his daughter as they stood on the outer stairway of his house. Beneath them they could see the Paiestrina dotted here' and there' with blinking lights, and a. dingy smear of smoke was steaming from her funnel. "So he is going away again to-morrow," he said reflectively. "Well, 1 suppose one is always permitted to change his mind." Benicia made no answer, and Dom Clemente stood still, glancing towards the steamer with, a somewhat curious expression when, she went into the house. Then he made a. little abrupt gesture as of one who resigns himself before he turned awav and went in after her. " In the meanwhile I look on," he said. CHAPTER NIX. THIS DELAYED MESSAGE. It was a few days after the Paiestrina : had sailed when Dom Clemente once more sat behind the pillars in a basket chair I looking thoughtfully at his unlighted cigar. ; He could when it appeared advisable move energetically and to some effect, but he ' was not fond of action, or conversation, for its own sake, and he seldom told anybody ' else what was in his mind. There are men ■- who apparently find a pleasure in doing so, j and in their case the task is as a. rule a, ; particularly easy one, but Dom Clements ; had no sympathy with them. When the '. time was ripe he acted on ins opinions, but otherwise he was placid, inscrutable, and tolerantly courteous. Still, 'there were men concerned in the government of his country who had confidence in him. ' ' It happened that a little cargo steamer On her way north had crept in that morning ' with engines broken down, and her British ' skipper, who had certain favours to ask", ] had been sent to Dom Clemente. Ho had ] gone away contented a few minutes earlier, but he had incidentally supplied Dom Cle- l meule with a piece of information which, v

although he was not altogether astonished at it, had ."made him thoughtful. At last he rose, and laying down his cigar strolled • forward leisurely to where looking down between the pillars he could see ids daughter in the patio below.. She did not. sec him, for she was sitting with a book turned back upwards upon her knee, and apparently gazing straight before her at a trellis j draped with flowers. He would have greatly liked to know what she was thinking, but since he recognised that this was one- • of the wishes that must remain iihgratified e he turned away again .with a little gesture - which was expressive chiefly of resignation. - He could deal with men, but he had already found that the charge of a motherless daughter was something of a responsibility. Then he called a negro whom he despatched v with a message, and leaned against one of " the pillars until a man in uniform with a big sword belted tc him came in. "Sit down," he said, pointing to the table. Write what I tell you." The man did as he was bidden, and Dom " Clemente nodded when he was shown the l " letter. "You will take it across to the i Lieutenant Frequillo aud tell him to send a few men- direct to the Bahia if he con- -, siders it advisable," he said. '"Then, you will see the messenger Pacheco despatched with it. The matter, as you will understand, is urgent. As you go down say • that 1 should like a word with the Seni horita Benieia if she is at liberty." His companion went out with the letter » of instructions, which was directed to the I officer in command of the handful of dusky soldiers who had been sent up to inquire for ' J news of Ormsgill, and Dom Clemente, who • sat down again, waited until his daughter , Came" in. She stood looking at him expectantly until he turned and pointed to the > little British steamer. "The captain of that vessel has just been in," he said. "Ho told me with some re- , sentment that a white steam yacht went by > him two days ago, and took no notice of his I signals. The skipper, it seems, was very anxious to be towed in here." "I do not, think that concerns me." said > Benieia. ' " The yacht,"' said Dom Clemente, " had a , single funnel, a. long deck-house, and two \ masts, •which, of course, is not unusual, but [ it' is most unlikely that- there are two yachts of that description anywhere near ■ t this coast. The point is that she was . steaming very fast, and heading south. which is certainly not the way to Nigeria." Benicia appeared to straighten herself a , trifle, but save for the little movement she . was very quiet, and she looked at her father with eyes that were almost as- inscrutable as his own. Still, she recognised that she was at a disadvantage, since it was evident that the course he meant to take | was clear to him, and she was in a state i of anxious uncertainty" "It is," he continued tranquilly, "a little , astonishing how these Englishmen reeog- , nise. the natural facilities of a- country. There is down the coast a little bay which I have long had my-eves upon. Homo day, j perhaps, we will build a deep-water pier i I there and make ,-i railway across the lit- ! toral. No other place has so many advantages. It' offens, among tho others, a natural road to the interior." The girl could have faced a. direct question hotter than this- preamble, which Dom Clemente no doubt guessed. " The Senor Desmond is not a commercialism" she said. " Why should this interest him?" j "Well," said Dom Clemente, "one could j fancy that it does, for he "is certainly going ! there." He stopped foe a moment, and then his tone was sharp and incisive. " The question is, who sent him?" ' ' Benicia saw the. little glint in his dark eyes, but she met his gaze. She was clever .enough to realise that there' .was* only one course open to her. "Ah," .she.: said, "I almost think you know." ■- The man made a little gesture. " At least, I do not know how the affair concerns you." ' ' Benicia sat down in the nearest chair, and ! a faint warmth crept into her face, for this J was the last point she desired to make clear, i and the man's eyes were still fixed upon her. | It was evident that ho expected an answer, , and it .said a good deal lor her courage that -' her voice was steady. ' ■'•'. ;" You are aware that I have spoiled your •,,p!ans?" she said. ■ .3 "That,'" said Dom Clemente drily, ." is ": another matter. I am not sure that you have spoiled them. . I would like to hear your reasons for meddling with them." • j It was 'the same question in a. different { "guise, and she nerved herself to face it. j j "Tho Senhor Ormsgill 'is 1 doing a very j chivalrous thing," she said. It is one in j which he has my sympathyone could alI most fancy that he has yours, too." | This was a. bold venture, but she saw the | moil's faint smile. " I have a duty here, j and that counts for most," he said. ""Then i it. was sympathy with this man Ormsgill j that influenced vou?" i "Not altogether. I hate the Cliefe at • San Jtoqu'c. You know why that is natural, ! and after all, it was you who had him sent | there. Apart from that, is it not clear that j he and the trader Herrero and Domingo play into each others' bands up yonder. The i traffic they are engaged in is' authorised, j but the way in which it is carried out is an -, iniquity." j There was, as it happened, men in that I country who held similar views, but the first ! reason the girl had proffered seemed to Dom ! Ciemente the most obvious one, though he i fancied it did not go quite far enough. It. | was conceivable that she should hate Dom | Erminio, who had been sent up into the ) bush after bringing discredit upon himself 1 as well as certain friends of hers. Still, he I realised that this was a. matter on which 'j she would never fully enlighten him, and I lie recognised his disabilities. It was peri haps, one of his strong points that ho I usually did recognise them, and seldom atj tempted the impossible. As the result of : this; !;..-vgeilet-ally carried out what he took 1 in kind. Dom Ciemertto was jir.i-!,. of all a j j soldier, and not one who shone in civilised j I society or cared to scheme (or preferment ! j by social influence, which was probably why j ! he had h\>?» sect out to a secondare comj ma ml in Africa. He had friends who .-aid he might have gone further "had he beet! !e-» ! faithful to his de.i.'i wife's memory. " Well," he. said, " it was certainly mv j intention to arrest this man Ormsgill'. 'l { admit that I have a certain sympathy with him, and that is partly why" I am a little I anxious to keep him from involving himself in useless difficulties," " Do you think a man of his kind would I be grateful for that I i Dom Clemente made a little gesture of in- j difference. "I. do not know. "" It is, after | all, not a point that very niuch concerns me, I though he is doing a perilous thing by meddling with'our affairs, especially in the bush yonder." "Ah," said Benieia, "then is nobody to meddle, and is this iniquity to go on?"" Dom Clemente smiled drily. °"I almost think," he said. " that when the time, is- ripe there will, as usual, be a man ready to take the affair in hand. In the meanwhile it would be a very undesirable thing that anv- [ one .should point to you as a friend of this rash Englishman." (To be continued on Saturday next.* ■