The Mystery of the Sea

  CHAPTER XL

  THE REDEMPTION OF A TRUST

  "Senor, you may wonder why I am here, and why I would speak with youalone and in secret. You have seen me only in a place, which though myown by birthright, was dominated by the presence of ladies, who alas! bytheir nationality and the stress of war were mine enemies. From you isnot such. Our nations are at peace, and there is no personal reason whywe should not be of the most friendly. I come to you, Senor, because itis borne to me that you are cavalier. You can be secret if you will, andyou will recognise the claims of honour and duty, of the highest. Thecommon people know it not; and for the dear ladies who have their ownhonour, our duties in such are not a part of their lives--nay! they arebeyond and above the life as it is to us. I need not tell you of asecret duty of my family, for it is known to me that all of such isalready with you. The secret of the Pope's treasure and of the duty ofmy House to guard and restore it has been in your mind. Oh yes, this Iknow" for he saw I was about to speak. "Have I not seen in your handsthat portion of the book, so long lost!" Here he stopped and his eyesnarrowed; some thought of danger, necessitating caution, had cometo him. I, too, was silent; I wanted to think. Unless I had utterlymisconceived him, he had made an extraordinary admission; one which hadgiven him away completely. The only occasion on which I had seen himwas when he had pointed out to us that the pages which I had foundbelonged to the book in the library. It is true that we had suggested tohim that there was a cipher in the marking of the letters, but he hadnot acknowledged it. At the time he certainly did not convey the idea tous that he believed we had grasped the secret. How then did he know; oron what assumption did he venture to state that I knew his secret. Herewas a difficult point to pass. If I were silent he would take all forgranted; in such case I might not learn anything of his purpose. So Ispoke:

  "Your pardon, Sir, but you presume a knowledge on my part of some secrethistory of your family and of a treasure of the Pope; and then accountfor it that you have seen in my hand the book, a part of which was longlost. Am I to take it that because there is, or may be, a secret, anyone who suspects that there is one must know it?" The steady eyes of theSpaniard closed, narrower and narrower still, till the pupils lookedlike those of a cat in the dark; a narrow slit with a cavern of firewithin. For fully half a minute he continued to look at me steadily, andI own that I felt disconcerted. In this matter he had the advantage ofme. I knew that what he said was true; I did know the secret of theburied treasure. He had some way of knowing the extent of my knowledgeof the matter. He was, so far, all truth; I was prevaricating--and weboth knew it! All at once he spoke; as though his mind were made up, andhe would speak openly and frankly. The frankness of a Latin was a felland strange affair:

  "Why shall we beat about the bush. I know; you know; and we both knowthat the other knows. I have read what you have written of the secretwhich you have drawn from those marked pages of the law book."

  As he spoke the whole detail of his visit to Crom rose before me. Atthat time he had only seen the printed pages of the cipher; he had notseen my transcript which had lain, face down, upon the table. We hadturned it, on hearing some one coming in.

  "Then you have been to the castle again!" I said suddenly. My object wasto disconcert him, but it did not succeed. In his saturnine franknesshad been a complete intention, which was now his protection againstsurprise.

  "Yes!" he said slowly, and with a smile which showed his teeth, like thewolf's to Red Ridinghood.

  "Strange, they did not tell me at Crom," I said as though to myself.

  "They did not know!" he answered. "When next I visited my own house, itwas at night, and by a way not known, save to myself." As he spoke, thecanine teeth began to show. He knew that what he had to tell was wrong;and being determined to brazen it out, the cruelty which lay behind hisstrength became manifest at once. Somehow at that moment the racialinstinct manifested itself. Spain was once the possession of the Moors,and the noblest of the old families had some black blood in them. InSpain, such is not, as in the West, a taint. The old diabolism whencesprung fantee and hoo-doo seemed to gleam out in the grim smile ofincarnate, rebellious purpose. It was my cue to throw my antagonist offhis guard; to attack the composite character in such way that one partwould betray the other.

  "Strange!" I said, as though to myself again. "To come in secret intoa house occupied by another is amongst civilised people regarded as anoffence!"

  "The house is my own!" he retorted quickly, with a swarthy flush.

  "Strange, again!" I said. "When Mrs. Jack rented the castle, there wasno clause in her agreement of a right to the owner to enter by a secretway! On the contrary such rights as the owner reserved were exactlyspecified."

  "A man has a right to enter his own house, when and how he will; and toprotect the property which is being filched from him by strangers!" Hesaid the last words with such manifest intention of offence that I stoodon guard. Evidently he wanted to anger me, as I had angered him. Idetermined that thenceforward I should not let anything which he mightsay ruffle me. I replied with deliberate exasperation:

  "The law provides remedies for any wrongs done. It does not, that Iknow of, allow a man to enter secretly into a house that he has let toanother. There is an implied contract of peaceful possession, unlessentry be specified in the agreement." He answered disdainfully:

  "My agent had no right to let, without protecting such a right."

  "Ah, but he did; and in law we are bound by the acts of our agents.'_Facit per alium_' is a maxim of law. And as to filching, let me tellyou that all your property at Crom is intact. The pieces of paper thatyou claimed were left in the book; and the book has remained as youyourself placed it on the shelf. I have Mrs. Jack's word that it wouldbe so." He was silent; so, as it was necessary that the facts as theyexisted should be spoken of between us, I went on:

  "Am I to take it that you read the private papers on the table of thelibrary during your nocturnal visit? By the way, I suppose it wasnocturnal."

  "It was."

  "Then sir," I spoke sharply now, "who has done the filching? We--MissDrake and I--by chance discovered those papers. As a matter of fact theywere in an oaken chest which I bought at an auction in the streets ofPeterhead. We suspected a cipher and worked at it till we laid bare themystery. This is what we have done; we who were even ignorant of yourname! Now, what have you done? You come as an admitted guest, bypermission, into a house taken in all good faith by strangers. Whenthere you recognised some papers which had been lost. We restored themto you. Honour demanded that you should have been open with us afterthis. Did you ask if we had discovered the secret of the trust? No! Youwent away openly; and came back like a thief in the night and filchedour secret. Yes sir, you did!" He had raised his hand in indignantprotest. "It was our secret then, not yours. Had you interpreted thesecret cipher for yourself, you would have been within your rights; andI should have had nothing to say. We offered to let you take the bookwith you; but you refused. It is evident that you did not know the wholesecret of the treasure. That you knew there was a treasure and a secretI admit; but the key of it, which we had won through toil, you stolefrom us!"

  "Senor!" the voice was peremptory and full of all that was bestand noblest in the man. "A de Escoban is not wont to hear such anallegation; and he who makes such shall in the end have his own deathto answer for!" He stopped suddenly, and at his stopping I exultedsecretly; though I wished to punish him for his insinuation that Marjoryhad filched from him, I had no desire to become entangled in a duel. Iwas determined to go on, however; for I would not, at any hazard, passa slight upon my peerless wife. I think that his sudden pause meantthought; and thought meant a peaceful solution of things on my ownlines. Nevertheless, I went on forcing the issue:

  "I rejoice, sir, that you are not accustomed to hear such allegations;I trust that you are also not accustomed to deserve them!" By this timehe was calm again, icily calm. It was wonderful with what rapidity, andhow widely, the pendulum of his nature swung between
pride and passion.All at once he smiled again, the same deadly, dreadful smile which heimagined to be the expression of frankness.

  "I see I am punished! 'Twas I that first spoke of stealing. Senor, youhave shown me that I was wrong. My pardon to that so good lady who isguest of my house; and also to that other patriotic one who so adornsit. Now let me say, since to defend myself is thrust upon me, that you,who have, with so much skill made clear the hidden mystery of that lawbook which I have only lately read, know best of all men how I am boundto do all things to protect my trust. I am bound, despite myself, evenif it were not a duty gladly undertaken for the sake of the dead. It wasnot I who so undertook; but still I am bound even more than he who did.I stand between law and honour, between life and death, helpless. Senor,were you in my place, would you not, too, have acted as I did? Would younot do so, knowing that there was a secret which you could not even tryto unravel, since long ago that in which it was hidden had been stolenor lost. Would you not do so, knowing, too, that some other--in all goodfaith and innocence let us say--had already made discovery which mightmock your hopes and nullify the force of that long vigil, to which tengenerations of men, giving up all else, had sacrificed themselves? Wouldnot you, too, have come in secret and made what discovery you could.Discovery of your own, mark you! Would not also that lady so patriotic,to whom all things come after that devotion to her country, which sogreat she holds?"

  Whilst he was speaking I had been thinking. The pretence of ignorancewas all over to both of us; he knew our knowledge of the secret trust,and we knew that he knew. The only thing of which he was yet ignorant,was that we had discovered the treasure itself. There was nothing tobe gained by disputing points of conjectural morals. Of course he wasright; had either Marjory or myself considered ourselves bound by such aduty as lay so heavy on him we should have done the same. I bowed as Ianswered;

  "Sir, you are right! Any man who held to such a duty would have done thesame."

  "Senor," he answered quickly, "I thank you with all my heart!" Poorfellow, at that moment I pitied him. The sudden flash of joy that leapedto his face showed by reaction in what a hell he must have of latebeen living. This momentary episode seemed to have wiped away all hisbitterness; it was in quite a different way that he spoke again:

  "And now, Senor, since your engaging frankness has made my heart soglad, may I ask further of your kindness. Believe me that it is not ofmy own will, but from an unbending sense of duty that I do and may haveto do such things; my life till lately has been otherwise, oh! so muchso! You have the feelings of honour yourself; like me you are also manof the world, and as such we can sacrifice all things save honour. Isthere no way in which you can aid me to fulfill my trust; and let therebe peace between us?" He looked at me anxiously; I said:

  "I fear I hardly understand?" With manifest embarrassment he went on;

  "You will forgive me if I err again; but this time I must make myselfclear. It is manifest to me that in these days of science nothing canlong remain hidden, when once a clue has been found. You already knowso much that I am placed almost as though the treasure has alreadybeen found. Thereafter where am I; what am I? One who has failed inhis trust. Who has allowed another to step in; and so dishonour him! Amoment, Senor, and I am done," for he saw that I was about to speak. "Itis not the treasure itself that I value, but the trust. If I could makeit safe by the sacrifice of all my possessions I would gladly do so.Senor, you are still free. You have but to abandon your quest. It is notto you a duty; and therefore you sacrifice naught of honour should youabandon it. Here I pledge to you--and, oh Senor, I pray have patiencethat you take no affront that I do so--that in such case I shall give toyou all that I have. Give it gladly! So, I may redeem the trust of myHouse; and go out into the wide world, though it may be as a beggar, yetfree--free! Oh! pause, Senor, and think. I am rich in the world's goods.My ancestors were of vast wealth; even at that time when the greatBernardino did give his ship to his king. And for three centuries allhave been prudent; and all their possessions have grown. There are vastlands of corn, great forests, many castles, whole ranges of mountainsas yet untouched for their varied treasures which are vast. There areseaports and villages; and in all, the dwellers are happy and content. Iam the last of my race. There is none to inherit; so I am free to pledgemyself." He did not bow or bend; there was no persistence of request inhis voice, or tone, or manner. In all there was no feeling of a bargain.It was an offer, based on the fulfillment of his own desires; given insuch a lordly way that there could be no offence in it. He recognised sothoroughly the strength of my own position, that the base side of barterbecame obliterated; it was an exchange of goods between gentlemen. Such,at least, I recognised was his intellectual position; my own remainedthe same. How could I, or any man, take advantage of such an offer.After thinking a few seconds I said to him:

  "Sir, you have honoured me by grouping us as men of honour. What wouldyou do in my place?" His eye brightened, and his breath came morequickly as he replied:

  "Were it my case, I should say: 'Senor, your duty is one of honour; mineis one of gain. There can be no comparisons. Fulfill your debt to yourforefathers! Redeem the pledge that they have made in your name!Discover your treasure; and be free!'" There was infinite pride in hisvoice and manner; I think he really meant what he said. I went on withmy questioning:

  "And what about the taking of your estate as a reward of forbearance?"

  He shrugged his shoulders: "For that," he said, "it matters not."

  "Ah, for you to give you mean?" He nodded.

  "But what for me to take? Would you do so in my place?" He wasmanifestly in a dilemma. I could see something of the working ofhis mind in his face. If he said he would himself take it, he wouldmanifestly lower himself in his own eyes; and to such pride as his, hisown self-respect was more than the respect of others, in proportion tohis self-value. If he said he would not, then he might peril his chanceof getting what he desired. The temptation was a cruel one; with allmy heart I honoured him for his answer, given with the fullness of hismighty pride:

  "Senor, I can die; I cannot stoop! But what avails my own idea? Theanswer is not for me! I have offered all I have. I will in additionpledge myself to hold my life at your service when this great trust isrelieved. To this my honour is guardian; you need not fear it shall beredeemed! Now Senor, you have my answer! To redeem the trust of my siresI give all I have in the world, except my honour! The answer rests withyou!"