The Castle Of The Shadows

  CHAPTER VII

  THE GATES OPEN

  The Countess de Mattos had a headache which was so severe, she announced,that it would prevent her from landing; besides, she was not interestedin convicts. Lady Gardiner, on the contrary, was greatly interested.Never had she been more alert; never had her black eyes been so keen. Shewanted to go everywhere; she wanted to see everything. She thought Noumeaa charming place; she had "really _no_ sympathy for the prisoners." Onemight commit a crime solely for the pleasure of being sent here.

  The party of five went ashore, and Kate's principal preoccupation seemedto be to keep as close to Virginia as possible. She had the air ofexpecting some choice excitement, which she might miss if the girl werelost sight of for a moment. But nothing in the manner of Virginia or herbrother or cousin suggested that they had come to this strange spot "atthe end of the world" with any object save that of amusement. Theybehaved just as they had behaved at Sydney, or any other port at whichthey had called. All five strolled up, under a blaze of tropicalsunshine, to the Place des Cocotiers, and sitting on the shaded verandahof the Hotel de France, sipped a cooling drink concocted of oranges,lemons and pineapple. Then they sauntered on again, much observed by afew weary-looking persons they met, through broad streets, with long,low, white houses.

  Dr. Grayle kept beside Lady Gardiner now, and they walked in front, asthe former was supposed to have studied the subject of the penalsettlement so thoroughly as to be qualified for guide.

  Kate glanced over her shoulder often; but Dr. Grayle succeeded ingenuinely interesting her in a story of an atrocious criminal who hadbeen expatriated to Noumea some years before. When she looked hurriedlyback, ostensibly to ask Roger Broom if he had ever heard the spicynarrative, the three had disappeared.

  Lady Gardiner flushed in anger with them for their duplicity, withherself for her carelessness in letting them slip away. "Dear me! what_has_ become of the others?" she exclaimed. "We must turn back and findthem."

  Dr. Grayle took the defection calmly--so calmly that Kate leaped to theconviction that he was in the plot against her. The others wanted to gosomewhere or do something without her, and this little brown-faced,sharp-eyed man had been told off as a kind of decoy duck. But she wouldcircumvent them yet. She _would_ know what was going on.

  "They have probably gone to buy some bit of carving or other souvenirs ofconvict make," said the doctor. "Certainly we'll turn back if you like."

  They did turn back, and wandered about in all the (according to Dr.Grayle) most likely places to find the lost ones, but in vain. Kate couldhave burst into tears of rage. She was hot, tired, dusty, and--worst ofall--thwarted. It was hateful to feel herself helpless in the plotters'hands, being made to dance when they pulled the strings, and to know thatthis "horrid little brown man" was secretly laughing at her behind hispolite air of concern. Yet she _was_ helpless, and had to acknowledge it.If she left the doctor and went off on an expedition of independentexploration she would not know which way to go, and might get intotrouble. But at last she could no longer bear her wrongs in silence; and,after all, she had nothing to gain by being nice to Dr. Grayle.

  "I suppose you think," she burst out angrily, "that you are making a foolof me, and that I don't know it. But I'm not as simple as you seem tobelieve. I'm perfectly well aware that there's a mystery going on, andthat all these elaborate precautions are to keep me out of it."

  Dr. Grayle raised his eyebrows. "Then you are much more enlightened thanI am," he returned mildly. "I'm really quite at loss to know what youmean, Lady Gardiner."

  "In plain words, I mean that you are walking me off my feet to cover theothers' escape. You know perfectly well where they are, but they'veordered you to keep out of the way, and you are doing as you're told,like a nice, obedient little man. I never was so abominably treated in mylife."

  "I can't see, even if Miss Beverly and her two relations choose to go offfor a little private sight-seeing on their own account, that either youor I have anything to complain of," said the doctor. "We are outsiders,and are both very well paid for our services. My opinion is that fewpersons in our position receive as much consideration from theiremployers as we do."

  Kate was so furious at this snub (which found a vital spot) that she wasliterally speechless for a moment. She would have liked to strike theimpertinent little wretch who dared put her on a level with himself; butshe could hardly do that, even in Noumea. When the wave of angry bloodflowed back from her brain, and she recovered presence of mind, sheturned abruptly and walked away from the doctor. But he was at her sideagain almost immediately, keeping up with her without any appearance ofhaste, though she quickened her pace in spite of fatigue, looking ascool, as serene, as if he had been taking an afternoon stroll in BondStreet. Evidently he had torn a leaf out of Roger Broom's book; and Katerecalled the forgotten fact that it was Roger who had recommended him toVirginia's notice.

  "I beg your pardon," he said, "but you are now going toward that part ofthe town which was burnt down at the time of the plague here, about threeyears ago. It is leading you rather out of the way of the hotel, where wewere all to meet for luncheon; but perhaps you have a curiosity to seeit? I have studied a map of the place, and if you like can point out----"

  "I do not like!" Lady Gardiner cut in sharply. "I wish to send acablegram."

  "Unfortunately, that is impossible."

  "_What!_ One can't telegraph from this loathsome place?"

  "I thought you were so charmed with it? One cannot telegraph to-day."

  "Why not to-day? Is it a holiday for the operators?"

  "So far as we are concerned."

  "Ah! I see what you mean now. You intend to prevent my communicating withmy friends! But this is too much. I will do so."

  "I fancied you were attached to Miss Beverly."

  "What has that to do with it?"

  "A good deal. We are Miss Beverly's guests--or her servants, whicheveryou please. In either case, we surely owe her fealty. I have beeninformed that she does not wish to have any communication made with theoutside world, from Noumea."

  "_I_ was not informed of this mandate."

  "I dare say she thought that you would be guided by my counsel."

  "Counsel! A strange word for your tyranny. At least, I suppose, there areno orders against returning to the hotel?"

  "None. So long as we are discreet."

  "And in what does your idea of discretion consist, pray?"

  "Keeping ourselves to ourselves. They are rather suspicious folk in NewCaledonia. Few tourists come this way. Probably we are the first peoplewho have landed here not on business for many a long year."

  "I am not at all sure that we haven't come on business--very particularbusiness."

  "I wouldn't make that remark before anybody else, if I were you. Youmight--get into trouble."

  As Dr. Grayle said this he looked steadily at Lady Gardiner. Their eyesmet, and so peculiarly cold and menacing was the expression of his thatshe felt unpleasantly chilled, and even subdued. Those steady eyes sounderscored his words with sinister meaning, that Kate dared not askwhether the "trouble" to which he suggestively referred would come to herthrough him or the inhabitants of Noumea. She thought that he lookedcapable of reducing her to helplessness by violence, if she showed signsof resisting his will, and she relapsed into silence. But she had notgiven up the hope of cabling to Loria. She resolved to watch her chance.

  They walked back to the Hotel de France, but the others had not returned,though the time fixed was long past. Kate was so hungry and weary thatagain she could have wept, and was secretly glad when Dr. Grayle orderedluncheon for two, though the prospect of a meal _tete-a-tete_ was notenjoyable. She complained, however, of being too warm and dusty to eat,unless she could refresh herself by splashing a little in cold water, andshe had to look down to hide the light which flashed into her eyes whenGrayle consented without protest to her taking a room, and re-making hertoilet before lunch.

  "Now I shall get off that cable," sh
e said to herself. Hardly had sheentered the bare, poorly furnished bedroom when she rang, and stoodwaiting eagerly for a servant to answer the summons. Presently came theexpected knock. She flew to open the door, and--there stood the littledoctor, behind him approaching a maid, probably an ex-convict.

  "You rang, Lady Gardiner," said Dr. Grayle, "to ask for a telegraph form,just as you might in a civilized place, didn't you? But this isn't acivilized place, and the methods are not all civilized. Now, here is theservant you rang for. If you persist in carrying out your intention Ishall lock you in this room, take the key, and tell the landlord that youare a harmless lunatic, under my medical supervision. I think I shall notin that case lack for assistance in keeping you within bounds."

  Kate glared at him, panting, for a moment. Then, controlling her voice,she asked the servant in French for some hot water. Having done this, sheslammed the door in the little man's face, which was the onlysatisfaction she got out of the incident. She was inclined to remainsulking in the bedroom, but though the spirit was willing the flesh wasweak, and the pangs of hunger drove her forth. Dr. Grayle was awaitingher in the corridor, a watchdog, patient and placid.

  * * * * *

  The missing three did no more aimless sauntering after they had slippedround a corner and eluded Kate Gardiner's curious eyes. Had theirbusiness not been of life-and-death importance, they would have felt likechildren escaped from school; since the least imprudence might lose themthe stake for which they played, and Kate's presence had been a check andcause of delay. Fortunately, it was not yet the hour of _dejeuner_, evenin Noumea, and they made up for lost time by hastening to the Governor'soffices, which were in a white-painted, two-story building of wood, witha verandah facing the almost deserted street.

  It was Sir Roger Broom who had used his influence in obtaining a specialletter from the Minister of Colonies to the Governor of New Caledonia,and he now sent it in with his card, and those of his friends, by aclerk. For a few moments they waited, soldiers in gay uniforms, gendarmesand convict messengers passing in and out on various errands, all gazingwith surprised, if furtive, interest at the extraordinarily beautifulgirl in white. Presently the Governor was ready to receive his guests,and his turn came to be astonished by Virginia. She was the first ladywho had ever come to Noumea, he said, on a journey of pleasure. Ah, theAmerican young ladies, they were wonderful, amazing! He asked a fewquestions about the yacht, the trip they had had, and his old friend theMinister of Colonies, then countersigned the credentials for the party,and dashed off a letter to the Director of the PenitentiaryAdministration.

  It was upon the latter official that everything depended. So far all wassatisfactory; but if the Director (who was supreme in authority over theprison, not answerable even to the Governor) chose to be ungracious, theymight go back whence they had come without even attempting that boldstroke in the hope of which they had paid this visit. They had dared,however, show no signs of their consuming anxiety. With smiling thanksthey bade good-bye to the Governor and went on, in the fitful silence ofsuspense, to the Direction.

  Again the letters and cards were borne away by a clerk. There was morewaiting; and when they were ushered into a large, cool, dusky room,strangely still behind its heavy double doors, Virginia was glad of thegloom, lest her pallor should excite suspicion.

  Afterward Roger and George said to each other that if it had not beenfor Virginia they believed the Director would have politely, but firmly,refused to grant the special privileges they craved. Others had receivedordinary permits to "view" the penitentiary establishment, yet very few,indeed (save those who went because they must), had been suffered by theauthorities to pass the prison gates. But what Frenchman could refuse anyfavour in his power to the all-conquering Virginia? The Director wouldhave been well within his rights, and could not have been accused ofdiscourtesy, if he had allowed a certain short, concise sentence at theleft-hand corner of the official sheet of paper which he signed, toremain. But instead he scratched it out with two quick strokes of thepen; and the doors of the prison and its cells were practically thrownopen.

  He, too, asked questions, and seemed wistfully loth to part with theseinteresting visitors from a far-away world, whose echoes he seldom heard.He smiled indulgently when Virginia fluently told the story preparedbeforehand: the book she and her brother had been commissioned to writeby a prominent American publishing firm; how it was to be all about thisyachting trip, with Noumea as the _piece de resistance_ of the story.They expected, George Trent chimed in by saying, to stop on board theiryacht in the harbour for a day or two perhaps, but (and he made the mostof his engaging Southern accent) what they particularly wanted was to"do" the Ile Nou, which all the books said was so "mighty" interesting.

  The Director obligingly scrawled a letter to the Commandant of the prisonin New Caledonia, explained to his guests what they must do, andcordially invited them to lunch with him. The thought of eating wasrepulsive to Virginia; but Roger telegraphed her a warning look, and sheknew that she must accept. It would not be wise to let it be seen thatthey were in a hurry; they were eccentric pleasure-seekers, sea-tourists;to be in haste was to throw aside disguise.

  After _dejeuner_, which seemed interminable, they were allowed to depart.So to a group of white, gray-roofed buildings set in brilliant littlesquares of garden--the offices of the executive police. Passing on, theyreached a small wooden quay, belonging to the penitential administration.Men in ugly gray clothing, their faces shaded with broad, ribbonlessstraw hats, were working at loading a boat with large boxes, which theycarried to the quay from a truck on a miniature local railway line. Thesemen were directed in their labour by other men in white; and Virginiashivered all over, for this was her first sight of the convicts. What ifMaxime Dalahaide were among these forlorn wretches who toiled and sweatedin the blazing sun, with no encouragement save the rough exhortations ofthe white-clad surveillants with revolvers on their hips? If he werehere, did any voice whisper to him of hope?

  The _canot_ for the Ile Nou was to start almost immediately. Thecredentials of the party were examined at the _douanerie_, and they werepermitted to go on board. Twelve convicts were the rowers. They sat underan awning which protected them as well as the passengers from the sun,but Virginia, glancing almost fearfully at their faces, saw that theirskins were tanned to the colour of mahogany by exposure. Their featureswere, without one exception, marked with the indefinable yetnot-to-be-mistaken stamp of criminality, and she breathed more freelywhen she had assured herself that the man they sought was not one ofthem.

  All they had to go upon was the vague information derived from MadeleineDalahaide, that her brother was supposed to be on the Ile Nou. The timehad not come yet to ask the questions that burnt their tongues; but itwas coming nearer now with each wide sweep of the convicts' oars.

  The Director had been thoughtful enough to telegraph to the Ile Nou ofthe visitors' arrival, and as the _canot_ approached the quay of thestrange little settlement, an officer of the prison, who had theappearance of a superior warder, stepped forward, touching his white hat.

  Virginia felt, with a thickly beating heart, that the long preface wasfinished, the first chapter of the book about to begin. She looked atthis island of exile and punishment with an emotion that was notcuriosity, but which could be classified by no other word. The Ile Nouwas not to the eye the terrible place of which she had so often dreamt.There were more low, white houses, clustering cosily together orseparated by thick, dark trees, and there were shaded streets and moreblazing _flamboyant_ flowers making patches of red in the deep green. Butbeyond the town rose a hill, and there the great prison buildings stoodout grimly against the cloudless blue of the tropical sky.

  They landed. The warder begged them with French politeness to givethemselves the trouble of accompanying him to the quarters of theCommandant, who expected their visit.

  The programme of conspiracy was all planned; each one's part had beencarefully mapped out, and a thousand times
Virginia had gone through theordeal of this day in her mind. Yet now the beating in her templesconfused her thoughts. She was afraid that she should forget, that sheshould make some irretrievable blunder, and that everything would beruined by her fault. But much might depend now upon a look or a gesture,and she held herself in a vice of self-control, fearing that her smile ongreeting the courteous old Commandant was suspiciously forced, her voiceunnatural, or the look in her eyes a betrayal of desperate anxiety.

  But the gallant Frenchman saw only the most entrancing vision of a girlhis eyes had ever looked upon. Within the bounds of reason--which meantin honour and within the regulations of the establishment--he would havedone anything to win one of those distracting smiles which brought intoplay two little round dimples. He ordered his own carriage to take hisguests to the grim hill behind the town; he sat by Virginia as they weredriven up the white, winding road; and when at last the convict coachmandrew up the horses at a great door of black iron in the blank side of ahigh white wall, it was he who helped her to alight.

  "You will be the only lady, not the wife or daughter of an official ofthe place, who has ever entered at this gate, mademoiselle," he remarkedas the key of the surveillant grated in the lock.

  The door opened, and Virginia passed through, trembling, the Commandantat her side. They were in a long, oddly-shaped courtyard. "The place ofexecution," said her guide. "In the early morning, at sunrise, acondemned man is brought here to die by the guillotine. Through that dooryonder he comes, the priest walking by his side. To-morrow there will besuch an execution. But I suppose you would scarcely care to see that,mademoiselle?"

  "Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Virginia, shuddering. "I would die myself,sooner. What has he done--this unfortunate one--that he must sufferdeath?"

  "He attempted to escape----"

  "What--you kill them for that, if--they are retaken?"

  "No; but wait, mademoiselle. I will tell you the story. It may be of useas an anecdote for the book you will write. This man who is to dieto-morrow morning, and who will not know that his time has come until theknock at the door of his cell when the hour strikes--this man andanother, who were imprisoned at the Isle of Pines, stole a small openfishing-boat, and with the branch of a tree for a mast and a shirt for asail, started out in the desperate hope of eventually reaching Australia.But the alarm was soon given, and they were pursued by such a _canot_ asthat in which you came here, mademoiselle, from Noumea. One of thefugitives was mad enough to jump from the boat, scarcely knowing what hedid. In a moment he had ceased to live."

  "He was shot?"

  "Ah, no, mademoiselle. The waters here are literally alive with sharks.Bathing even near shore is dangerous. A little farther out--but I willsay no more. You grow pale."

  "That is nothing. And the other man--what of him?"

  "He was captured; but he is a young, athletic fellow, and in his fury atbeing retaken he snatched a surveillant's revolver and shot him dead. Hewas tried, condemned to death, and to-morrow at sunrise, as I said, willexpiate his crime and folly."

  Virginia was very white now--almost as white as the frock which she hadchosen from her prettiest for the subjugation of these men in authority.

  "What is the man's name?" she ventured to ask, her voice sounding strangeand metallic in her own ears, her lips dry.