CHAPTER XXXI

  THE AMERICAN TRADER

  Walthew was almost dozing, when he was startled by a sound that came outof the darkness. It was some distance off, but it had a regular beat init, and when it grew louder he could not doubt that some one was ridingfast up the road.

  "Move the fire back--there's somebody coming!" he called quickly."Blanca, will you give Grahame your pistol?"

  He used her name for the first time, and it thrilled him, but he hadother things to think about. The faint glow of the charcoal vanished,and Grahame came out and stood listening.

  "Stay where you are and guard the door!" he said. "I'll drop behind thatbush, and then if the fellow gets down we'll have him between us."

  Throwing away a cigarette he was smoking, he vanished into the gloom,and Walthew lay still with his heart beating fast. The drumming of hoofsgrew slower as the rider climbed the hill before the house, but Walthewcould not see him until he dismounted and came up the path, leading hismule. It was some comfort to realize that they had only one man to dealwith, but if he was a spy of the President's, he must not get away.Walthew, lying at full length, quickly worked his elbow into the dustto steady his pistol hand.

  When the stranger was three or four yards away he stopped and looped thebridle round his arm. Then he put his hand into his pocket, and Walthew,with his nerves a-tingle, supposed that the man was searching for amatch. In another moment he might have to shoot, and he held his breathas his finger tightened on the trigger. He heard the match scrape, atiny flame flickered between the stranger's hands, and Walthew startedas he saw his face. It was the man who had carried the President'sorders into Rio Frio.

  The light spread, falling on Walthew's recumbent figure and sparkling onhis pistol, but the messenger did not throw it down as the American hadhalf expected. Instead, he coolly held it up.

  "I see you have me covered," he said. "Though it's a surprise to findyou here, I'm not going to run away."

  Walthew lowered his pistol.

  "Very well. Leave your mule and go into the house. Will you tie up theanimal, Grahame?"

  "So there are two of you!"

  The man did as he was told, and Walthew, following him, asked Blanca toget a light.

  The girl had found a lamp which she placed on the ground, and thestranger looked at her sharply as she bent over it. Nobody spoke untilGrahame came in.

  "Are you alone?" he asked the messenger.

  "Quite."

  "What's your name and business?"

  "Carson, agent for the trading firm, Henniker and Gillatly."

  "Where were you going and why did you come here?"

  Carson turned to Walthew, who had been wondering whether he recognizedhim.

  "I imagine this gentleman knows my business," he said. "He did me aservice in Rio Frio which I'm glad to acknowledge. As a matter of fact,I stopped here to look for something to eat; the owner of this house ison the President's side. It's pretty plain, though, that he has clearedout. Taking it all round, I haven't had much luck this trip."

  "Who warned you not to call at the _hacienda_ Perez?" Blanca asked.

  "I don't know his name--he stopped me for a moment in the dark. I'msorry I had to put one of your friends out of action, senorita, but Ihadn't much choice, because he struck at me with his knife. For allthat, I hope the man's not badly hurt."

  "We expect him to recover."

  "You seem to know this lady," Walthew broke in.

  Carson smiled.

  "I haven't had the pleasure of being presented, but I've seen MissSarmiento once or twice, and it would be strange if I forgot her."

  His easy good-humor disarmed Walthew.

  "Did you deliver the President's despatches?" he asked.

  "Yes. To tell the truth, I was glad to get rid of them--and I imagineMiss Sarmiento acted wisely in leaving the town. Now, however, I'mnaturally curious to know what you mean to do with me."

  "Will you give us your word not to tell any of the President'ssupporters that you have met us?"

  "I'll promise with pleasure. I feel that I've done enough in carryinghis despatches."

  "Very well," said Grahame. "That clears the ground; but we must talk itover together."

  "Thanks," Carson said coolly. "I'm not pressed for time--and I noticethat you have been cooking. I wonder if I might ask for some supper?"

  "All we have is at your service, senor," Blanca answered with Spanishpoliteness. "But we'd better put out the light."

  She extinguished the lamp, and they gathered round the cooking pot, themen sitting on the earth floor with the red glow of the burning charcoalon their faces. It could not be seen many yards away, and Grahame's viewcommanded the path to the door. Blanca divided the omelette she hadmade, and afterward gave them some black coffee and a bundle ofcigarettes.

  "These are Habaneros and should be good," she said. "As they belong to afriend of the President's we need not hesitate about using them."

  She sat down beside Walthew, and they smoked in silence for a while.Blanca was studying Carson's face as it was lighted by the glow from thecharcoal.

  "Why did you help Altiera?" she asked him suddenly.

  "Commercial interest. He has given us one or two trading privileges. Andhe seemed to think I had a pretty good chance of getting through."

  "Do you know what his orders to Gomez were?"

  Grahame had wondered when she meant to ask this, and had left it to her,feeling that she was more likely to catch the messenger off his guard.

  Carson laughed.

  "Honestly, I don't know; Altiera isn't the man to take an outsider intohis confidence."

  "Still, you know something."

  "Well," Carson said quietly, "I'm sorry I must refuse to tell you mysurmises. No doubt you'll understand my obstinacy."

  "Aren't you rash, senor?" Blanca asked in a meaning tone.

  "On the whole, I think not. Of course, I'm in your hands, but as I'vepromised not to give you away, I expect these gentlemen won't take anunfair advantage of me. Then, from what I know about Don Martin, I feelthat I can trust his daughter."

  Blanca smiled.

  "Well," she said, "I suppose we must let you go. You are at liberty toleave us when you wish."

  Grahame and Walthew agreed, and Carson shook hands with them.

  "It's evident that your only reason for stopping near Rio Frio is thatMiss Sarmiento finds it impossible to walk any farther," he remarked."She's welcome to my mule. Gomez requisitioned it from a man calledSilva, who's suspected of sympathizing with your party. I believe I knowwhere to find another animal."

  They thanked him and let him go; and soon after he vanished into thedarkness, Blanca mounted the mule and they set off again.

  Pushing on until dawn, they found a small, deserted _hacienda_ standingback from the road, and as tall forest grew close up to it, offering aline of retreat, they decided to rest there. The mule looked jaded.Blanca admitted that she could not go much farther, and Walthew wasobviously worn out. They could find nothing to eat; but there was somefurniture in the house, and Blanca found a place to sleep in one of therooms, while the men lay down on a rug outside. The sun was now risingabove the high cordillera and, wet with the dew as they were, theyenjoyed the warmth. A few lizards crept about the wall in front of them,and an archway near by commanded a view of the road. The building was ingood order, and had apparently been abandoned on the approach of thePresident's soldiers.

  "These people know what to expect; they must have been ready to lightout," Walthew remarked. "I rather liked that fellow Carson, but it'scurious he didn't ask us anything about our business."

  "He'd take it for granted that we had an active part in the revolution."

  "No doubt the senorita's being with us would suggest something of thekind, but he seemed surprised at first," Walthew replied with athoughtful air. "For all that, I can't quite see----"

  "No," said Grahame; "I don't think you altogether understand thesituation yet. I suppose you mean to marry M
iss Sarmiento?"

  "Certainly, if she'll have me," Walthew answered with firmness, thoughhe looked at his comrade as if he expected something more.

  Grahame smiled.

  "Then you're to be congratulated, because you won't have much trouble ingetting your wish."

  "What do you mean?" Walthew's tone was sharp, but he remembered anincident during his escape from the town. "I'll admit I wasn't quitehopeless, but we were both in danger----"

  He broke off, and Grahame regarded him with a friendly laugh.

  "You're modest--and you're more ignorant of Spanish customs than Ithought. However, I'd better explain, so you'll know how Don Martin willlook at it. To begin with, a well-brought-up girl is never permitted tomeet a man unless she is suitably escorted by an older member of thefamily, and you have been wandering about with Miss Sarmiento for two orthree days. Now you can understand why Carson was surprised, and Inoticed he was uncertain how to address Miss Sarmiento at first. Shenoticed his hesitation, though you did not."

  For some moments Walthew was silent, his brows knitted.

  "No, I never thought of it," he admitted. "But we'll say no more aboutit until I've seen Don Martin. Besides, there's another matter. A fellowwho joined us at the lagoon gave me a letter for you. Sorry I forgot ituntil now, but I had a good deal to think about."

  "I don't suppose it's important," Grahame replied, and lighted acigarette before opening the envelope with an English stamp.

  Then his expression changed, and a few moments afterward he let theletter drop and sat very still. The cigarette went out, the hot sunshone upon his uncovered head, and a lizard ran across his leg; but hedid not move. He seemed lost in thought. Walthew, watching with puzzledsympathy, waited for him to speak.

  "This letter has been a long time on the way," he explained at last. "Itprobably had to wait at our Havana address, and then Don Martin's peoplehad no opportunity to deliver it."

  "But what's the news?" Walthew asked.

  Grahame answered with a strained laugh.

  "In a sense, it's rather a grim joke. While I've been risking my lifefor a few dollars' profit on smuggled guns, and practicing the sternestself-denial, it seems I've been the owner of an old Border estate."

  "Ah!" said Walthew. "Then Calder Hall now belongs to you?"

  "What do you know about Calder Hall?"

  "I've known all about it for some time, and I'm very glad. But Iunderstand that you didn't expect to inherit the estate."

  "No; it seemed impossible. I won't trouble you with family particulars,but two deaths have occurred in a very short time. The last owner was noolder than I am and married, but his only child is a girl, and he waskilled while hunting. Although he was my cousin, I've rarely seen him."

  He was silent again for some minutes, his mind busy with alluringvisions. He had long struggled with poverty, and had wandered about theworld engaging in reckless adventures, but he had inherited a love forthe old home of his race; and now it was his. But this, while countingfor much, was not the main thing. He had been strongly attracted byEvelyn Cliffe, but, recognizing his disadvantages, he had tried hard tohold in check the love for her which grew in spite of him. The obstaclesthat had bulked so large were now removed. He was free to win her if hecould, and it was comforting to remember that in her urgent need she hadsent for him. But he had work to finish first.

  "I suppose you mean to start home as soon as you can?" Walthewsuggested.

  "No," Grahame answered quietly, "I'm not going yet. For one thing, wehave taken Don Martin's money, and now that he has to meet a crisis wecan't leave him in the lurch. Besides, one day at San Lucar, we promisedsome of the leaders of the movement that we'd see them through."

  It was a good reason. Grahame was not the man to do a shabby thing, butWalthew, remembering that Evelyn was with the rebels, thought hiscomrade had a stronger motive for staying.

  "Well," he agreed, "I guess that's so. Anyway, the game can't last muchlonger; they'll have to use our guns in the next few days."

  "Yes; and as we don't know what part we'll have in it, you'd better getsome rest. I'll keep watch a while."

  Walthew was glad of the opportunity to sleep; and Grahame, moving backinto the shadow as the sun got hot, sat still, with his mind busy andhis eyes fixed upon the road.

  At noon Blanca came out of the house and stood looking down at Walthewwith a compassionate gentleness that she did not try to hide. Thehalf-healed cut showed plainly on his forehead, his brown face lookedworn, and he lay in an attitude of deep weariness.

  "It is a pity to wake him, but we must start," she said, and indicatedthe scar. "I suppose you can guess that he has borne something, and hegot that wound for you."

  "I'm not likely to forget it," Grahame answered quietly.

  "No," Blanca said with a curious smile. "You do not make manyprotestations, you men of the North, but one can trust you."

  She stooped and touched Walthew gently.

  "It is noon and we must go."

  Her voice was quiet, but Walthew seemed to know it in his sleep, for hesprang to his feet with a half-ashamed air.

  "I didn't mean to sleep so long," he said, and looked at Blancaanxiously. "Have you rested enough? Are you quite fit to travel?"

  Blanca smiled; and when Walthew brought up the mule and helped her tomount she noticed something new in his manner. Hitherto, it had beenmarked by a certain diffidence, but now this had gone. He wasassiduously careful of her, but with a hint of proprietary right.Something had happened since she had last seen him to account for thechange. She gave Grahame a searching glance, but his face was impassive.

  They set off, Walthew walking beside the mule, but it was to Grahamethat the girl spoke as they moved slowly forward in the scorching heat.He thought he understood, and his eyes twinkled with amusement when shewas not looking. Blanca suspected him, and she did not mean Walthew totake too much for granted.