The Man from Brodney's
CHAPTER VI
THE CHATEAU
The road to the chateau took its devious way through the littletown--out into the green foothill beyond. Two lumbering, wooden wheeledcarts, none too clean, each drawn by four perspiring men, served asconveyances by which the arrivals were to make the journey to their newhome. Mr. Bowles informed his lordship that horses were not submitted tothe indignity of drawing carts. The lamented Mr. Skaggs had driven hisown Arab steeds to certain fashionable traps, but the natives neverthought of doing such a thing.
Lady Deppingham's pert little nose lifted itself in disgust as she wasjoggled through the town behind the grunting substitutes for horseflesh.She sat beside her husband in the foremost cart. Mr. Bowles, very tired,but quite resplendent, walked dutifully beside one wheel; Mr. Saunderstook his post at the other. It might have been noticed that the lattercut a very different figure from that which he displayed on his firstinvasion of the street earlier in the day. The servants came alongbehind in the second cart. Far ahead, like hounds in full cry, toiledthe unwilling luggage bearers. From the windows and doorways of everyhouse, from the bazaars and cafes, from the side streets andmosque-approaches, the gaze of the sullen populace fastened itself uponthe little procession. The town seemed ominously silent. Deppinghamlooked again and again at the red coat on the sloping shoulders of theirguardian, and marvelled not a little at the vastness of the Britishdominion. He recalled his red hunting coat in one of the bags ahead, andmentally resolved to wear it on all occasions--perhaps going so far asto cut off its tails if necessary.
At last they came to the end of the sunlit street and plunged into theshady road that ascended the slope through what seemed to be anabsolutely unbroken though gorgeous jungle. The cool green depths lookedmost alluring to the sun-baked travellers; they could almost imaginethat they heard the dripping of fountains, the gurgling of rivulets, solike paradise was the prospect ahead. Lady Agnes could not restrain hercries of delighted amazement.
"It's like this all over the island, your ladyship," volunteered Mr.Bowles, mopping his brow in a most unmilitary way. "Except at the minesand back there in the town."
"Where are the mines?" asked Deppingham.
"The company's biggest mines are seven or eight miles eastward, as thecrow flies, quite at the other side of the island. It's very rocky overthere and there's no place for a landing from the sea. Everything isbrought overland to Aratat and placed in the vaults of the bank. Fourtimes a year the rubies and sapphires are shipped to the brokers inLondon and Paris and Vienna. It's quite a neat and regular arrangement,sir."
"But I should think the confounded natives would steal everything theygot their hands on."
"What would be the use, sir? They couldn't dispose of a single gem onthe island, and nothing is taken away from here except in the company'schests. Besides, my lord, these people are not thieves. They areabsolutely honest. Smugglers have tried to bribe them, and the smugglershave never lived to tell of it. They may kill people occasionally, butthey are quite honest, believe me. And, in any event, are they not apart of the great corporation? They have their share in the working ofthe mines and in the profits. Mr. Wyckholme and Mr. Skaggs were honestwith them and they have been just as honest in return."
"Sounds very attractive," muttered Deppingham sceptically.
"I should think they'd be terribly tempted," said Lady Agnes. "They lookso wretchedly poor."
"They _are_ a bit out at the knees," said her husband, with a greatlaugh.
"My lady," said Bowles, "there are but four poor men on the island:myself and the three Englishmen who operate the bank. There isn't a poorman, woman or child among the natives. This is truly a land of rich men.The superintendent of the mines is a white man--a German--and the threeforemen are Boers. They work on shares just as the natives do and saveeven more, I think. The clerical force is entirely native. There werebut ten white men here before you came, including two Greeks. There areno beggars. Perhaps you noticed that no one was asking for alms as youcame up."
"'Gad, I should say we did," exclaimed Deppingham ruefully. "Therewasn't even a finger held out to us. But is this a holiday on theisland?"
"A holiday, my lord?"
"Yes. No one seems to be at work."
"Oh? I see. Being part owners the natives have decided that four hoursconstitutes a day's work. They pay themselves accordingly, as it were.No one works after midday, sir."
"I say, wouldn't this be a paradise for the English workingman?" saidDeppingham. "That's the kind of a day's labor they'd like. Do you meanto say that these fellows trudge eight miles to work every morning andback again at noon?"
"Certainly not, sir. They ride their thoroughbred horses to work andride them back again. It's much better than omnibuses or horse cars, I'dsay, sir--as I remember them."
"You take my breath away," said the other, lapsing into a stunnedsilence.
The road had become so steep and laborious by this time that Bowles wasvery glad to forego the pleasure of talking. He fell back, with Mr.Saunders, and ultimately both of them climbed into the alreadyoverloaded second cart, adding much to the brown man's burden. Afterregaining his breath to some extent, the obliging Mr. Bowles, now beingamong what he called the lower classes, surreptitiously removed thetight-fitting red jacket, and proceeded to give the inquisitive lawyer'sclerk all the late news of the island.
The inhabitants of Japat, standing upon their rights as part owners ofthe mines and as prospective heirs to the entire fortune of Messrs.Skaggs and Wyckholme, had been prompt to protect themselves in a legalsense. They had leagued themselves together as one interest and hadengaged the services of eminent solicitors in London, who were torepresent them in the final settlement of the estate. London was to bethe battle ground in the coming conflict. A committee of three hadjourneyed to England to put the matter in the hands of these lawyers andwere now returning to the island with a representative of the firm, whowas coming out to stand guard, so to speak. Von Blitz, the Germansuperintendent, was the master mind in the native contingent. It was hewho planned and developed the course of action. The absent committee wascomposed of Ben Adi, Abdallah Ben Sabbat and Rasula, the Aratat lawyer.They were truly wise men from the East--old, shrewd, crafty and begottenof Mahomet.
The mines continued to be operated as usual, pending the arrival of theexecutors' representative, who, as we know, was now on the ground in theperson of Thomas Saunders. The fact that he also served as legal adviserto Lady Deppingham was not of sufficient moment to disturb thearrangements on either side. Every one realised that he could have noopportunity to exercise a prejudice, if he dared to have one. Saundersblinked his eyes nervously when Bowles made this pointed observation.
As for the American heir, Robert Browne, he had not yet arrived. He wascoming by steamer from the west, according to report, and was probablyon the _Boswell_, Sumatra to Madagascar, due off Aratat in two or threedays. Mr. Bowles jocosely inferred that it should be a very happy familyat the chateau, with the English and American heirs ever ready to heavethings at one another, regardless of propriety or the glassware.
"The islanders," said Mr. Bowles, lighting a cigarette, "it looks to me,have all the best of the situation. They get the property whether theymarry or not, while the original beneficiaries have to marry each otheror get off the island at the end of the year. Most of the islanders havegot three or four wives already. I daresay the legators took that intoconsideration when they devised the will. Von Blitz, the German, hasthree and is talking of another."
"You mean to say that they can have as many wives as they choose?"demanded Saunders, wrinkling his brow.
"Yes, just so long as they don't choose anybody else's."
Saunders was buried in thought for a long time, then he exclaimed,unconsciously aloud:
"My word!"
"Eh?" queried Bowles, arousing himself.
"I didn't say anything," retorted Saunders, looking up into the treetops.
In the course of an hour--a soft, sleepy
hour, too, despite the wondrousnovelty of the scene and the situation--the travellers came into view ofthe now famous chateau.
Standing out against the sky, fully a mile ahead, was the home to whichthey were coming. The chateau, beautiful as a picture, lifted itselflike a dream castle above all that was earthly and sordid; it smileddown from its lofty terrace and glistened in the sunset glow, like thejewel that had been its godmother. Long and low, scolloped by itsgables, parapets and budding towers, the vast building gleamed redagainst the blue sky from one point of view and still redder against thegreen mountain from another. Soft, rich reds--not the red of blood, butof the unpolished ruby--seemed to melt softly in the eye as one gazedupward in simple wonder. The dream house of two lonely old men who hadno place where they could spend their money!
According to its own records, the chateau, fashioned quite closely aftera famous structure in France, was designed and built by La Marche, theill-fated French architect who was lost at sea in the wreck of the_Vendome_. Three years and more than seven hundred thousand poundssterling, or to make it seem more prodigious, nearly eighteen millionfrancs, were consumed in its building. An army of skilled artisans hadcome out from France and Austria to make this quixotic dream a realitybefore the two old men should go into their dreamless sleep; to saynothing of the slaving, faithful islanders who laboured for love in thegreat undertaking. Specially chartered ships had carried material andmen to the island--and had carried the men away again, for not one ofthem remained behind after the completion of the job.
There was not a contrivance or a convenience known to modernarchitecture that was not included in the construction of thislatter-day shadow of antiquity.
It was, to step on ahead of the story as politely as possible, fully aweek before Lord and Lady Deppingham realised all that their new homemeant in the way of scientific improvement and, one might say, research.It was so spacious, so comprehensive of domain, so elaborate, that onemust have been weeks in becoming acquainted with its fastnesses, if thatword may be employed. To what uses Taswell Skaggs and John Wyckholmecould have put this vast, though splendid waste, the imagination cannotgrasp. Apartments fit for a king abounded; suites which took one back tothe luxuries of Marie Antoinette were common; banquet halls, ball rooms,reception halls, a chapel, and even a crypt were to be found if oneundertook a voyage of discovery. Perhaps it is safe to say that none ofthese was ever used by the original owners, with the exception of thecrypt; John Wyckholme reposed there, alone in his dignity, undisturbedby so little as the ghost of a tradition.
The terrace, wide and beautiful, was the work of a famous landscapegardener. Engineers had come out from England to install the mostcomplete water and power plant imaginable. Not only did they bring waterup from the sea, but they turned the course of a clear mountain streamso that it virtually ran through the pipes and faucets of the vastestablishment. The fountains rivalled in beauty those at Versailles,though not so extensive; the artificial lake, while not built in anight, as one other that history mentions, was quite as attractive.Water mains ran through miles of the tropical forest and, no matter howgreat the drouth, the natives kept the verdure green and fresh with aconstancy that no real wage-earner could have exercised. As to thestables, they might have aroused envy in the soul of any sportingmonarch.
It was a palace, but they had called it a chateau, because Skaggsstubbornly professed to be democratic. The word palace meant more to himthan chateau, although opinions could not have mattered much on theisland of Japat. Inasmuch as he had not, to his dying day, solved themanifold mysteries of the structure, it is not surprising that he neverdeveloped sufficient confidence to call it other than "the place."
Now and then, officers from some British man-of-war stopped off forentertainment in the chateau, and it was only on such occasions thatSkaggs realised what a gorgeously beautiful home it was that he livedin. He had seen Windsor Castle in his youth, but never had he seenanything so magnificent as the crystal chandelier in his own hallwaywhen it was fully lighted for the benefit of the rarely present guests.On the occasion of his first view of the chandelier in its completeglory, it is said that he walked blindly against an Italian table ofsolid marble and was in bed for eleven days with a bruised hip. Thepolished floors grew to be a horror to him. He could not enumerate thetimes their priceless rugs had slipped aimlessly away from him, leavinghim floundering in profane wrath upon the glazed surface. The barethought of crossing the great ballroom was enough to send him into aperspiration. He became so used to walking stiff-legged on the hardwoodfloors that it grew to be a habit which would not relax. The servantswere authority for the report, that no earlier than the day before hisdeath, he slipped and fell in the dining-room, and thereupon swore thathe would have Portland cement floors put in before Christmas.
Lord and Lady Deppingham, being first in the field, at once proceeded tosettle themselves in the choicest rooms--a Henry the Sixth suite whichlooked out on the sea and the town as well. It is said that Wyckholmeslept there twice, while Skaggs looked in perhaps half a dozentimes--when he was lost in the building, and trying to find his way backto familiar haunts.
There was not a sign of a servant about the house or grounds. The menwhom Bowles had engaged, carried the luggage to the rooms which LadyDeppingham selected, and then vanished as if into space. They escapedwhile the new tenants were gorging their astonished, bewildered eyeswith the splendors of the apartment.
"We'll have to make the best of it," sighed Deppingham in response tohis wife's lamentations. "I daresay, Antoine and the maids can get ourthings into some sort of shape, my dear. What say to a little strollabout the grounds while they are doing it? By Jove, it would be excitingif we were to find a ruby or two. Saunders says they are as common asstrawberries in July."
Mr. Bowles, who had resumed his coat of red, joined them in the strollabout the gardens, pointing out objects of certain interest and tellingthe cost of each to the penny.
"I can't conduct you through the chateau," he apologised as they werereturning after the short tour. "They can't close the bank until I setthe balance sheet, sir, and it's now two hours past closing time. Itdoesn't matter, however, my lord," he added hastily, "we enjoy anythingin the shape of a diversion."
"See here, Mr.--er--old chap, what are we to do about servants? We can'tget on without them, you know."
"Oh, the horses are being well cared for in the valley, sir. You needn'tworry a bit--"
"Horses! What we want, is to be cared for ourselves. Damn the horses,"roared his lordship.
"They say these Americans are a wonderful people, my lord," ventured Mr.Bowles. "I daresay when Mr. and Mrs. Browne arrive, they'll have someway of--"
"Browne!" cried her ladyship. "This very evening I shall give ordersconcerning the rooms they are to occupy. And that reminds me: I mustlook the place over thoroughly before they arrive. I suppose, however,that the rooms we have taken _are_ the best?"
"The choicest, my lady," said Bowles, bowing.
"See here, Mr.--er--old chap, don't you think you can induce theservants to come back to us? By Jove, I'll make it worth your while. Theplace surely must need cleaning up a bit. It's some months since theold--since Mr. Skaggs died." He always said "Skaggs" after a scornfulpause and in a tone as disdainfully nasal as it was possible for him toproduce.
"Not at all, my lord. The servants did not leave the place until yoursteamer was sighted this morning. It's as clean as a pin."
"This morning?"
"Yes, my lord. They would not desert the chateau until they were sureyou were on board. They were extraordinarily faithful."
"I don't see it that way, leaving us like this. What's to become of theplace? Can't I get an injunction, or whatever you call it?"
"What _are_ we to do?" wailed Lady Agnes, sitting down suddenly upon theedge of a fountain.
"You see, my lady, they take the position that you have no right here,"volunteered Bowles.
"How absurd! I am heir to every foot of this island--"
"They are very foolish about it I'm sure. They've got the ridiculousidea into their noddles that you can't be the heiress unless LordDeppingham passes away inside of a year, and--"
"I'm damned if I do!" roared the perspiring obstacle. "I'm not soobliging as that, let me tell you. If it comes to that, what sort of anass do they think I'd be to come away out here to pass away? London'sgood enough for any man to die in."
"You are not going to die, Deppy," said his wife consolingly. "Unlessyou starve to death," she supplemented with an expressive moue.
"I daresay you'll find a quantity of tinned meats and vegetables in thestorehouse, my lady. You can't starve until the supply gives out.American tinned meats," vouchsafed Mr. Bowles with his best Englishgrimace.
"Come along, Aggy," said her liege lord resignedly. "Let's have a lookabout the place."
Mr. Saunders met them at the grand entrance. He announced that four ofthe native servants had been found, dead drunk, in the wine cellar.
"They can't move, sir. We thought they were dead."
"Keep 'em in that condition, for the good Lord's sake," exclaimedDeppingham. "We'll make sure of four servants, even if we have to keep'em drunk for six months."
"Good day, your lordship--my lady," said Bowles, edging away. "Perhaps Ican intercede for you when their solicitor comes on. He's due to-morrow,I hear. It is possible that he may advise at least a score of theservants to return."
"Send him up to me as soon as he lands," commanded Deppingham calmly.
"Very good, sir," said Mr. Bowles.