CHAPTER XIX
THE CUBAN SPY
Gore left Banner's Post abruptly, to Evelyn's relief, and on the morningafter his departure she and Cliffe stood on the steps before the otherguests had come down to breakfast. It had rained all night, the misthung low about Long Mountain's side, and a fresh wind woke waves ofsound from the rustling pines. A creel hung round Cliffe's shoulders,and he contemplated the dripping woods with a smile of half-apologeticsatisfaction.
"The fishing should be great to-day!" he exclaimed. "But I feel that I'mplaying truant. I ought to be back at the office. Guess the trout Icatch will cost me high; but the temptation is pretty strong when I seethe water rise."
"I'm glad you have been rash for once," Evelyn replied. "Besides, youhave an office full of people who can look after things for you."
Cliffe shook his head.
"That's the excuse I tried to make, but it won't quite work. If you wantto be a successful operator, you have to sit tight with your finger onthe pulse of the market. A beat or two more or less makes a bigdifference. Finance soon gets feverish."
"And you are one of the doctors who send its temperature up or down."
"No; that's a wrong idea. Once on a time the big men did something ofthe kind, but now the dollar's a world-force that's grown too strong forthem. We gave it a power we can't control; it drives us into combinesand mergers we didn't plan. It's a blind force that rolls alongundirected, over our bodies if we get in its way. All we can do is totry to guess its drift. The successful man is the one who does sofirst."
"I wonder whether you're to be pitied or envied. The work must beabsorbing, and it's simple, in a way."
"Simple!" Cliffe exclaimed.
"Well, you have an object; your aims are definite and you know, more orless, how to carry them out. We others, who have no purpose in life,spend our time in amusements that leave us dissatisfied. When we stop tothink, we feel that we might do something better, but we don't know whatit is. The outlook is blank."
Cliffe gave her a sharp glance. Evelyn had changed in the last fewmonths, and she had been strangely quiet since her refusal of Gore.Seeing his interest, she laughed.
"I'm not asking for sympathy; and I mustn't keep you from the trout. Goand catch as many as you can. It must be nice to feel that you have onlyto pick up a fishing-rod and be young again."
She walked to the gate with him, but Cliffe stopped when they reachedit, for a big automobile was lurching down the uneven road. The mudsplashed about the car indicated distance traveled at furious speed, butit slowed at the bend near the gate, and Cliffe sighed as he recognizedRobinson.
"I guess this stops my fishing," he said in a resigned tone. Droppinghis rod and creel, he jumped on to the footboard as the drivercautiously took the gate, and Evelyn smiled as the car rolled up thedrive. She was sorry that her father had lost his favorite sport, buthis prompt surrender of it was characteristic. He was first of all a manof business.
"Wired for an auto' to meet me when I left the train," Robinson toldhim. "It was raining pretty hard, and they don't do much grading onthese mountain roads, but I made the fellow rush her along as fast as hecould." He took some letters from his wallet. "Read these and think themover while I get breakfast."
Half an hour afterward they sat in a corner of the veranda, where Mrs.Willans' guests left them alone. These quiet, intent men of affairsobviously did not belong to their world.
"Well?" Robinson said.
"One of two things has got to be done; there's no middle course."
Robinson nodded.
"That's true. Middle courses generally lead to nothing."
"Very well. We can cut out our deal with President Altiera, lose themoney we have spent, and let the concessions go; or we can pay up again,hang on, and put the matter through."
"What's your opinion? The fellow asks for more."
"Do you mean to be guided by me?"
"Yes," Robinson said. "Take which you think is the right line; I'llstand in."
"It's pretty hard to see. We'll make good if we get the concessions;but the President's up against a bigger thing than he thought. It'sgoing to cost him and us some money to head off the revolutionists, butif we don't drop out right now, we've got to brace up and put it over.Well, as I'm fixed, it's a big risk. My money's making good interest,and if I go on, I've got to sell out stock I meant to hold. A set-backwould be a serious thing for me. I want a few minutes to think it over."
Robinson had confidence in Cliffe's integrity and judgment.
"An hour, if you like," he said; "then we'll have to pull out, whateveryou decide."
For a long while Cliffe sat silent with knitted brows. His wife madeclaims upon his means that he sometimes found it hard to satisfy; and itwas his ambition that his daughter should be rich. After carefullypondering the letters, he saw that he might be involved in a conflictwith forces whose strength he could not estimate, and defeat would costhim the fruit of several years' labor. Yet the prize to be won wastempting, and he could take a risk. Besides, they already had put a gooddeal of money into it.
"Well," he said at last, "I've made up my mind."
"To hold on, I guess," Robinson suggested with a smile.
"That's so," Cliffe answered in a quiet voice. "What's more, I'm goingout to look into things myself. We can talk it over on the way to town.I'll be ready as soon as I've told my wife."
Robinson took out his watch.
"Give you half an hour if we're to catch the train," he said.
Cliffe met Evelyn in the broad hall, and told her that he would have togo south at once.
"Take me with you, won't you?" she begged. "I want to get away fromBanner's Post."
Cliffe hesitated a moment.
"Why, yes," he then said; "I see no reason why you shouldn'tgo--particularly as your mother means to stay with Margaret Willans."
When, a half hour later, the car started from the bottom of the stepsand Mrs. Cliffe turned away with a wave of her hand, Evelyn stood in thedrive, asking herself bluntly why she wished to accompany her father. Alonging for change had something to do with it; she was getting tired ofan aimless and, in a sense, uneventful life, for it was true thatoccupations that had once been full of pleasurable excitement had begunto pall. But this was not her only object. Grahame was somewhere on thecoast she meant to visit, and she might meet him. Evelyn admitted with ablush that she would like to do so.
The next morning a telegram arrived from Cliffe, directing her to joinhim in town, and ten days later she stood, at evening, on a balcony ofthe Hotel International, in Havana. It was getting dark, but a few lampswere lighted in the _patio_, and the moonlight touched one white wall.The air was hot and heavy, and filled with exotic smells, and the soundof alien voices gave Evelyn the sense of change and contrast she hadsought. Yet she knew that, so far, the trip had been a failure. It hadnot banished her restlessness; Havana was as stale as New York. Sheremembered with regret how different it had been on her first visit.Grahame and his companion had been with her then, and she knew that shemissed them.
She turned as a man came out on the balcony that ran along the end ofthe house. He did not look like a Cuban, and she started when themoonlight fell upon him, for she saw that it was Grahame. He was makingfor the stairs at the corner where the two balconies joined and did notnotice her. Evelyn realized that, as she wore a white dress, her figurewould be indistinct against the wall, and, if she did not move in thenext few moments, he would go down the stairs and disappear among thepeople in the _patio_. If he had meant to enter the hotel, he would nothave come that way.
She felt that if she let him go they might not meet again. After all,this might be wiser. Yet her heart beat fast, and she thrilled with astrange excitement as she stood irresolute, knowing that the choice shehad to make would be momentous.
Grahame reached the top of the stairs without turning, and was goingdown when she leaned over the balustrade. She did not consciously decideupon the action; it was as if something had
driven her into making it.
"Mr. Grahame!" she called softly.
He looked up with the moonlight on his face and she saw the gleam shehad expected in his eyes. Then he came swiftly toward her, and herindecision vanished when she gave him her hand.
"This is a remarkably pleasant surprise, but I didn't see you until youspoke," he said. "Have you just come out of one of the rooms?"
"No; I've been here some time. I saw you as soon as you appeared on thebalcony."
Grahame gave her a quick look, and she knew he was wondering why she hadwaited until the last moment. He was shrewd enough to see that the delayhad some significance, but this did not matter.
"Well," he said, "I'm glad you didn't let me pass, because I was goingout into the street, and it's doubtful if I'd have come back."
"Yes," said Evelyn; "I seemed to know that."
He was silent for a moment, but his expression was intent and a faintglow of color showed in his brown face. Evelyn let him make what heliked of her admission. She had not been influenced by coquetry, but bya feeling that it was a time for candor.
"I was thinking about an interview I'd just finished--that is why Ididn't look round," he explained. "I came from Matanzas this afternoon."
"Then the _Enchantress_ isn't here?"
"No; she's at Matanzas, but I can't get back to-night. Will you be herelong?"
"A day or two, waiting for a boat. I wonder whether you would stay anddine with us this evening?" Then a thought struck Evelyn, and she added:"That is, if it isn't undesirable for you to be seen here."
She had not expected him to hesitate and was prepared for his recklesstwinkle.
"Of course I'll stay! But did you mean--if it was not unsafe?"
"I suppose I did," she admitted with a smile. "You know I helped you ina mysterious plot the last time I was here. Now it would be selfish ofme to ask you to wait if you think you'd better not."
"There's no risk worth counting, and I'd take it if there was. When youhave a temperament like mine it's hard to deny yourself a pleasure."
"I shouldn't have thought you self-indulgent," Evelyn smiled.
"Well," he said, "one's fortitude has its limits. I suppose it dependsupon the strength of the temptation."
He had answered in a light vein, and Evelyn followed his lead.
"It's a relief to know you mean to stay. My father will be pleased tosee you; but he may not have finished his business when dinner is ready,and I rather shrink from going down alone."
They talked about matters of no importance for a time, and then wentthrough the _patio_ to the dining-room. It was not full, and Evelynimagined that Grahame was glad there were several unoccupied chairsbetween them and the rest of the company. She noticed, moreover, thatwhen people came in he glanced up quietly, as if he did not want her tonotice his action, and she had a guilty feeling that she had made himtake a risk that was greater than he would own. Yet she was glad that hehad taken it.
"Where are you going when you leave Havana?" he asked presently.
"To Valverde, and afterward perhaps to Rio Frio."
Grahame looked thoughtful, and Evelyn quietly studied him. Her traininghad made her quick at guessing what lay behind the reserve of peoplewho were not quite frank with her, and she saw that he was disturbed.
"Why should I not go there?" she asked.
"I don't know any good reason if your father's willing to take you, butthe country's in a rather unsettled state just now." Grahame paused fora moment and added earnestly: "Don't trust Gomez."
"Do you think we shall meet him?"
"Yes," he said with a dry smile; "I think it very likely."
"Then you must know something about my father's business, and what isgoing on in the country."
"I believe I know more about the country than your father does. In fact,I'd like to warn him against Gomez, only that I imagine he's a goodjudge of character and already knows his man."
Grahame wrote an address on a leaf of a small notebook and, tearing itout, put it on her plate.
"I'm going to ask a favor. If you should meet with any difficulty at RioFrio, will you send me a message through the man whose name I've writtendown? I might, perhaps, be of some use."
"Do you expect us to get into any difficulty?"
"No; but one can't tell--trouble might arise."
"And, if it did, you could help us?"
"Well," he said gravely, "I'd do my best."
Evelyn's eyes sparkled.
"I know you could be trusted! But all this mystery gives the trip anextra interest. Then, you have made it obvious that the _Enchantress_will be on the coast."
"May I hope that this adds to your satisfaction?" Grahame said, smiling.
"Now you're frivolous, and I was pleasantly excited! However, I'llpromise that if anything very alarming seems to threaten us I'll sendyou word."
Grahame looked up. An elderly Cuban gentleman, three or four places off,had once or twice glanced at them carelessly and then resumed hisconversation with a lady beside him, but Grahame noticed that he stoppedwhen Evelyn spoke.
"Am I to tell my father what I have promised?" she asked.
"You must use your own judgment about that."
Evelyn understood him. He would not ask her to keep a secret from herfather, and she liked his delicacy; but he looked thoughtful. She didnot know that the Cuban gentleman engaged his attention.
"Well," she said, "I'll tell him if it seems necessary; that is, ifthere's any reason for sending you word. Otherwise, of course, therewould be no need to mention it."
"No," he agreed with a smile that seemed to draw them closer because ithinted at mutual understanding.
"One doesn't feel forced to explain things to you," Evelyn saidimpulsively.
"That's an advantage. Explanations are a nuisance, and sometimesdangerous when they're important. I find them easiest when they don'tmatter."
Cliffe came in and greeted Grahame cordially; and Grahame, glancing downthe table without turning his head, saw the Cuban studying them.Something in the man's manner suggested that Cliffe's friendliness hadsurprised him. He made a few hasty pencil marks on the back of an oldletter and then, looking up suddenly, caught Grahame watching himcuriously. The Cuban pushed back his chair and left the room, althoughGrahame suspected that his dinner was not more than half finished.
Evelyn, surprising the alert look on Grahame's face, was now moredisturbed than ever on his account. Evidently there was danger for himhere.
Her fears would have been increased had she known the few words the spywrote on his envelope.