The Pursuit

  CHAPTER XXIV

  LUIGI'S HOSPITALITY

  The smuggler's eyes expressed the limits of amazement. He stared at thenewcomer. He turned his glance to Aylmer, as if he sought informationthere. He brought it back and focussed it upon the dripping _soutane_.He made inarticulate noises of incredulity; he flung up his hands withgestures of bewilderment.

  "You arrive--how, reverend father?" he cried. "What have you used? Thewings of a bird, the fins of a fish?"

  "The eyes of a God-fearing priest," retorted Padre Sigismondi. "I sawsignals being flashed from your island. With Emmanuele here," he pointedto the dripping figure which still lay upon the stones, "I was passingyour abode of sin on my way to Stromboli. I had, in fact, no choice--Iwas being blown there. I saw the signals, I say, but read no meaning inthem. Some unconfessed wretch needs extreme unction, say I to myself,and steered among the teeth of your reefs. One of our sweeps broke at acritical moment. This cavalier here leaped in to our rescue. I have notproperly thanked him yet because I am awaiting explanation of the wordsI heard as you thrust yourself upon us. Prisoners, did you say? It mustbe a cataclysm of morality which has made you a gaoler or a judge, mywonderful Luigi."

  The smuggler shivered and blenched.

  "This man and this woman are in a sense prisoners," he allowed. "Theyare not on good terms with our other--guests. We have had to restraintheir liberties."

  Padre Sigismondi regarded him fixedly. The unfortunate Luigi's tongueprotruded with nervousness; his cheek muscles twitched. The priestshrugged his shoulders as he turned to Aylmer.

  "I arrive unceremoniously," he smiled, "but not inopportunely, it seems.May I have your version of the extraordinary circumstances in which Ifind the Signora and yourself, Signor?"

  Aylmer smiled back at him.

  "They are simple enough, father," he answered. "We are prisoners; thereis no need for our friend here to beat about the bush. At theinstigation of--of a certain enemy of ours, in whose pay the good Luigifinds himself, we were kidnapped from the port of Melilla and broughthere. It was our signals you saw. May I add my profound regrets at themisfortune you experienced in answering them?"

  "The Church is a boat to the bad, but possibly a gainer inrighteousness," said the other. "I may be the means of preventing someirretrievable sin on the part of these islanders. You were being held toransom, do I understand?"

  The dripping figure at his feet stirred and rose weakly to a standingposture. A cackle of laughter came from between the chattering teeth.

  "The gaol-bird as gaoler--eh, but that is a rib-rending jest, Luigi. Youhave imagination, _amico_, imagination and, it seems, opportunity. Youwill go far!"

  The sailor turned his wrinkled face on the abashed smuggler; his whiteteeth flashed a prodigious smile. He seemed to find nothingdisconcerting in the situation, but desired to show quickness in seizingits points of humor.

  "He will certainly go far, my good Emmanuele," agreed Padre Sigismondi,drily. "As far as the penal station on Procida if I am not hugelymistaken, or unless he shows a most improbable repentance. What have wehere? Other warders in this private penitentiary?"

  Footsteps clattered along the tiny causeway. With a rush, half a dozenfigures swept up to them through the moonlight, Landon at their head.This was the answer to Signor Luigi's frantic shouts.

  The rush wavered, hesitated, came to a halt. The islanders recognizedthe grim, aggressive form in the _soutane_ with sharp exclamations ofamazement and alarm. Landon, without their experience, felt theimpalpable infection of their fear. He, too, halted, staringmistrustfully at the priest and his companions.

  He shook Luigi by the elbow.

  "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

  The smuggler made a deferential outward movement of his palms.

  "It is a visit, an unexpected visit, from our--our vicar," he explained."It is the Padre Sigi--Sigismondi, I should say."

  The padre stepped forward and spoke in crisp, imperturbable tones.

  "I am peripatetic confessor to these islands, Signor," he said. "Thereis a bitter need of six priests to each island, rather than six islandsto a priest. It is an abode of wickedness, this. That, perhaps, has notbeen hidden from you?"

  Landon kept a moment's silence. Then he smiled.

  "I confess that I have not augmented its morality, in bulk, Signor," hesaid. "In fact, by adding the two who stand behind you to itspopulation, I have done far otherwise. Instead of being where you findthem, they should be under lock and key."

  "Why?" demanded the priest, laconically.

  "Because they robbed me," answered Landon. "Because, for wicked purposesof their own, they took from me--not gold, but what is beyond the priceof gold or buying--my only son."

  "You accuse them of--kidnapping?" The good man's voice was coldlyincredulous.

  Landon made a gesture of assent.

  "Of that and of attempted murder. They hired Moorish desperadoes toattack me, to ride me down."

  "And you have made of yourself not only prosecutor, but judge, jury, andkeeper of their prison?"

  "These things happened in Africa, outside civilized jurisdiction. Was Ito lack justice when it lay in the hollow of my hand?"

  "Are there no consular courts? If not, you cannot bring your privatecause to private verdict in the dominions of the King of Italy, howeverbad his title to the throne."

  "Your reverence is a Legitimist?" grinned Landon.

  "In every sense of the word, Signor. My sense of legitimacy finds yourarguments unsound."

  He looked at Claire with an apologetic bow.

  "And as a matter of fact, Signora, I have not heard your statement. Howdoes it vary from this gentleman's? Or does it, perhaps, corroborateit?"

  She looked at him very steadily.

  "The man to whom you have been talking," she said slowly, "is, I think,Signor, the worst man whom God permits to live."

  He made a little gesture of protest.

  "You have suffered at his hands--is that it? But your sentence is toosweeping a one, is it not? Surely, Signora, surely?"

  She shook her head.

  "No!" she said determinedly. "Traitor, forger, thief--we know him to beall these. And last, but not least, murderer. A murderer of souls. I donot know if he has taken a fellow creature's life, but for five years heracked into the numbness of despair the soul of my sister, who was hiswife."

  He made a tiny exclamation of sympathy; he held up his hand as if he putaway from him a spectre of evil.

  He looked back to Landon.

  "You have heard, Signor?" he said.

  "I have heard," said Landon, easily. "As a tale it has no originalityand therefore little interest for me. I have heard it a hundred times.Your reverence found fault, a moment back, with my self-assumed statusof judge. Are you going to borrow the cloak which you do not permit meto wear? You have heard both sides. To what proof can you refer adecision?"

  The long, lean figure drew itself up very rigidly.

  "I am a sinful man myself, Signor. I make no decisions. But I have beenappealed to, as I understand, by those whom I find in your power. Ishall not permit your restraint of them to continue. You can refer anygrievance you have against them to properly constituted tribunals overthere." He lifted his arm and pointed south to where storm and night hidSicily.

  He turned to Luigi.

  "Emmanuele and I are, as you see, sodden to the skin. It may reach yourgreat intelligence, by degrees, that we need warmth and refreshment."

  The smuggler made an apologetic gesture.

  "But certainly, Reverenza. There is in the house a fire. My poorprovisions are at your service."

  The priest looked towards Claire with another courtly doffing of hishat.

  "And you, Signora, and you, Signor, will add to my felicity by sharingboth with me?"

  She looked at him gravely.

  "They have not starved us; we had food a couple of hours ago," she said."But your company, here and to the mainland, is a boon straight from thehand of
God."

  He inclined his head in assent.

  "I am His servant, Signora," he said. "I thank Him for permitting me toserve Him, in serving you. Shall we make our way to the house? The hourmust be close on midnight."

  He made a motion towards the path. He looked imperturbably at Landon,who, with Muhammed, still stood astride it.

  "You appear to be blocking the lady's way, Signor," he said. "Notintentionally, I dare to hope."

  Landon shrugged his shoulders and drew aside.

  "On the contrary, your reverence. Not for worlds would I stand betweenyou and refreshment--and sleep."

  He looked at Muhammed with a half-sardonic, half-inquiring gaze as hespoke. And there was a faintly emphasized inflection on the last twowords.

  The Moor looked back at him impassively, and then drew aside with anobsequious droop of the head.

  But to Claire and, to a less extent to Aylmer, there was a queer,indefinite sense of something which impended--something which rackedthem with suspicion in the attitude of those about them. Landon'ssurrender was too facile; Luigi's deference too pliant; Muhammed'sapathetic eyes were never less convincing of guilelessness. When theyreached the cottage, and stood with Padre Sigismondi before the blaze inthe great open hearth and watched the quick preparations which werebeing made to improvise a meal, the unreality of their surroundingsseemed to grow in significance. No one interfered with them; no one evennoticed them. Luigi set the table; Muhammed busied himself with thecoffee-pot; Landon held the father's dripping garments to the blazewhile their owner assumed a sailor's trousers and jersey in an adjoiningroom. It was too incredible, this sudden turning of tables. They lookedat each other doubtfully.

  Their speculations received a sudden interruption. The door opened toadmit Miller.

  He was half dressed. He blinked--it was apparent that he and sleep hadparted company a short half minute before.

  "I heard noises," he said, and then his glance fell upon the two whostood near the fireplace, side by side. His usual phlegm seemed todesert him. He gave an exclamation.

  "You!" he cried. "You!"

  He wheeled towards Landon.

  "Will you explain?" he cried harshly. "What is happening?"

  "I entertain guests--a small, but select, family party," grinned Landon.

  The gray man stared at him with still unappeased surprise. Then,suddenly, his face cleared. He looked at Claire; he looked on beyond herto Aylmer.

  "You have met his terms? You see the hopelessness of it all; you havebeen wise?"

  His voice was smooth, now, and had lost its harsh tones of amazement. Hepurred his approbation.

  Aylmer laughed.

  "We have been wise, my dear Miller," he agreed. He laughed again asPadre Sigismondi briskly entered the room. He had the aspect of anascetic but experienced mariner in his new garb. He bowed to Millercourteously but inquiringly. The inquiry, it was to be noticed, wasdirected in part towards Aylmer and his companion.

  But Aylmer offered no introduction. He drew forward a chair, and placedit in front of the fire.

  "A good roasting after your immersion? Let me prescribe that," he said.

  The priest looked at him and then gave a cry of commiseration.

  "But you yourself, Signor--you remain in your sodden clothes?"

  "For a very simple reason, father," said Aylmer, smiling. "I was takenprisoner, but not my luggage. I stand up in my belongings."

  The house began to resound with the recriminations which the priestaddressed to Luigi. Why had he not provided the cavalier with a suitablechange of raiment while his own clothes dried? Why had he not done this;why had he not done that?

  The smuggler ran to and fro distractedly. A jersey came from one press.A shirt from another. A cupboard supplied trousers; a deplorable collarwhich had had no recent acquaintance with a laundry was even offered anddeclined. Aylmer retired into the adjoining room, and Landon, on hisreturn, with imperturbable aplomb received and began to dry the wetclothes he had taken off. Miller reviewed these proceedings withunqualified amazement. Offered no key to the position, he proceeded toprobe for one.

  "Your reverence has voyaged far?" he hazarded.

  "More miles than I care to remember, Signor," said the other,courteously. "But ever, alas, in a circle. My peregrinations have beenbounded, ever since my ordination, by Naples on the north and Palermo orMessina in the south. I see much earth and sky and water, especially thelatter, but I add nothing to geography. I am amphibious, that is all."

  His "ordination"? The gleam of discovery woke in Miller's eyes. Apriest, was it? But the presence of Aylmer and Miss Van Arlen--how wasthat to be explained? And how far had the newcomer gauged the situation.

  "Your reverence finds in us unexpected additions to your flock," hesaid. "The population of Salicudi has increased since you last visitedit."

  "To my very natural satisfaction," said Sigismondi, imperturbably. Helooked at the steaming bowl of polenta and the coffee-pot which Luigihad set upon the table. Emmanuele came in, wrapped in a sheepskin coatand grinning at the food expectantly. His master greeted him with a nod."It appears that we are to feast and feast alone, my son," he said."These friends of ours insist on having dined two hours ago. May theBlessed bless to us this refreshment."

  He seated himself and began to eat slowly, but with relish.

  "Heat is a great tonic," he remarked reflectively. "The contents of thisbowl and, above all, of this admirable coffee-pot, will erase theremembrance of the discomforts of the night. And then sleep, but not toomuch of it. Luigi, my friend, we must be off at dawn."

  The smuggler's eyebrows rose into arcs.

  "How, Reverence?" he exclaimed. "At dawn, and whither, if you please?"

  "By way of Celsa, where an infant awaits baptism--and my friends, I dareto hope, will excuse the short delay--to Messina. Where else, my goodLuigi? That surely is the place where your guests can most convenientlyadjust their misunderstandings."

  The smuggler shrugged his shoulders.

  "I am at your service, father," he said, and looked vacantly at theopposite wall. But the tail of his eye, Aylmer noted, was on Landon. Wasthere a message, or inquiry, in it?

  "All of us," said Landon, smoothly, "must find your proposition a verypractical one. May I hasten to add my approval of it?"

  He looked smilingly at Aylmer, at Claire, lastly at Muhammed. TheMoor--was it Aylmer's fancy?--answered with a tiny nod. There wassarcasm in this glance of Landon's; there was menace; there was--soAylmer told himself--malignant triumph.

  Padre Sigismondi nodded absently. He presented his coffee-cup to theMoor to be refilled, and as the brown liquid ran from the spout, watchedit with a slow, stolid abstraction. His mental alertness seemed to berelaxing with physical refreshment. He offered no further remarks; heplied his spoon upon the polenta slowly, and yet more slowly.

  Suddenly Emmanuele, the sailor, dropped his cup in the act of taking amore than usually copious draught. He looked stupidly at the coarsecrockery as it broke upon the floor.

  Sigismondi shook a finger at him, a finger which, somehow, he seemed tohave under no proper command. "Careless one!" he mumbled. "Careless one!Where are your manners?" And then, suddenly, as if he heaved back aweight, he rose unsteadily to his feet. He threatened Luigi with hisclenched fist.

  "Traitorous dog!" he cried, and fell senseless to the floor.

  His companion stared at him stupidly, plunged forward as if to bring himaid, and then fell, too, at his feet. The pair lay where they hadfallen, unmoving.

  At the back of the room Landon broke out into pleasant laughter.

  Aylmer darted forward and bent to shake Sigismondi fiercely by theshoulder. Claire cried to him warningly.

  Too late!

  Landon and Luigi had flung themselves upon him from behind. Muhammed haddropped a looped cord across his shoulders. There was a moment'sconfusion--the corner of the table smashed under a chance blow--and thenstillness. Lashed with cords into rigidity, Aylmer lay upon the planks,and La
ndon, gazing down, spat upon his upturned face.

  "You clever fool!" he derided. "To think to have cornered me--me!"

  He looked rapidly at his watch and turned to Luigi.

  "It is five hours to dawn," he said. "Where is it we are to take them?There is no possibility for delay?"

  The smuggler threw out his hands with an air of fatalism.

  "The headquarters of the Society--there is no other place!" he said."With this wind, four hours or less will see us there. They will chargea commission; you will have to bear with that. But we shall have perfectprivacy and, if you will, perfected means of dealing with this man'sobstinacy. And there will be adepts, who will give you their assistancefor the pleasure of the thing."

  Landon nodded.

  "Do you hear, my friend, do you hear?" he cried, thrusting his footagainst Aylmer's cheek. "You have wriggled well in my coils--I grant youthat. You have twisted and, for the moment, escape seemed open--wideopen--before you. But against me? No one prevails there, no one!"

  "One may--yet."

  The voice was Claire's. Landon wheeled towards her.

  "That shows a very determined optimism, sister-in-law," he said. "Andwho, if the knowledge is not privileged?"

  "God," she said quietly, and met his eyes unflinchingly.