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JOHN HASLETTE Yéguxmgq.“
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AUTHOR OF “ THE PASSION OF THE PRESIDENT " H '
“DESMOND ROURKE, IRISHMAN "
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TO MY MOTHER
WITH RESPECT AND GRATITUDE
THIS VOLUME 15 AFFECTIONATELV INSCRIBED


CHAP-
' CONTENTS
. UNPOETIC JUSTICE
II.
III.
IV.
. THE SPY
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
. ON THE SLOPE
XI.
XII.
XIII.
XIV.
XV.
XVI.
XVII.
XVIII.
XIX.
XX.
XXI.
THE UNHAPPY DUPE
PREGNANT SILENCE
A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL
JUANNA
CYNTHIA
WAITING
THE SUCCESSOR
THE SAMARITAN .
TI-IE TRAGICAL VISIT
THE TELLING OF IT
THE PROOF .
ASTER CALLS A BLUFF
DANGER
THE DUMB MAN
THE ONE WAY OUT
THE INTERVIEW
THE ATTACK ON THE JAIL
POSSIBILITIES . .
Plum
25
42
58
66
83
92
102
1 I 1
121
131
I43
158
163
176
186
200
207
217
227
242
7


8
CONTENTS
CHAL
XXII.
XXIII.
XXIV.
XXV.
XXVI.
XXVII.
XXVIII.
CARMENCITA IS WARNED
ASTER SPRINGS A SURPRISE .
AMAZEMENT
BARRIGA TALKS
THE 'ASSIGNATION .
THE LETTER
MINGLING TIDES
PAGI
257
270
278
288
291
310
317


THE MESH
CHAPTER I
UNPOETIC JUSTICE
HIs Excellency Don Luis Pescate—President
of the Effulgent and Glorious Republic of
Coquibe, as he loved to style himself in his
pronunciamienios—lolled back in his chair,
to survey with the eye of a connoisseur the
charming face of a lady who sat vis-d-w's with
him at the dinner-table. The service had been
removed; only a few decanters and some thin-
stemmed wineglasses remained to remind them
of the Epicurean feast they had been discussing.
Between them, many bunches of grapes ﬂaunted
their luscious purple in a massive silver epergne,
standing up like a glistening oasis in a dazzling
white linen desert.
His Excellency stretched out long thin ﬁngers,
loaded with rings, detached a grape from one
cluster, and placed it delicately between his ex-
cellent teeth. He crushed it deliberately.
9


10 THE MESH
The lady watched him, her air perceptibly
sulky, her ﬁrm shoulders on .the point of
shrugging.
“ My excellent Luis,” she said, speaking in a
sweet, hushed contralto which seemed strangely
at variance with her piquante and coquettish
face, “I must have more money, and I must
have some Parisian frocks—positively must!”
“ Heart of my life,” replied his ExCellency,
in his gentle voice, “money is scarce; frocks
are dear; the imperative mood does not suit
your charming face, or your adorable voice.
Frankly, my sweet, the Presidential coffers wink
coldly with their last peso, and the Presidential
credit—well, that is best left to the imagination,
and the talk of fools.”
The lady’s mouth shaped a mutinous moue.
“ But, with it all, I must have money and
frocks,” she said, leaning towards him.
Don Luis smiled. He had heard this—all
this, before. “ My adored Carmencita, it will
gratify me extremely if you can suggest to me a
way to provide you with these necessities.”
Her eyes glinted. “You are President, and
you may do as you please,” she hinted.
“ Generally I do,” he said, deliberately de-
taching another grape and subjecting it to the


UNPOETIC JUSTICE r1
crushing process. “ But it is the most difﬁcult
thing in the world—that.”
The Doﬁa C-armencita Pensol was gradually
working herself into a delightful little feminine
rage. “ Ah-h! Me! I am in rags! ” She tugged
furiously at the priceless lace on her corsage.
“ Rags! Look at my hands! Not a ring—not
a jewel. Are these the hands of a woman who
should be permitted to go without rings?”
“ C orazon de mi vida, they are not,” replied
Don Luis, reaching across the table, and patting
them gently. “ No doubt you have disposed of
all the ﬁne rings I gave you.”
She shrugged. “ Fine rings—the stones were
mere sparks I assure you. You speak to me of
them while that pestilent woman, the Doﬁa Maria
Luisa Carboles ﬂaunts a tiara of the ﬁnest
Brazilian stones,v and also a necklet—madre
mia! worth at least six thousand pesos.”
Don Luis lighted a cigar, glanced at her
amiably. “ You surprise me. Is she not afraid
to wear those gems in this town?”
“ Perhaps,” said the lady. “ But on the days
when she does not require them, they are placed
in the safes of the English Bank.”
“ A thousand devils!” cried his Excellency.
“The English Bank? I profess, as a patriotic


12 THE MESH
statesman of our effulgent republic, chiquita,
that I view with alarm and suspicion the appear-
ance of these English in our commercial circles.
Decidedly, they are serious competitors.”
“ Is it not a shame? ” cried the Doha Carmen-
cita, opening a little gold cigarette-case, which
lay on the table beside her. “ There is ever so
much money—fabulous sums—while I, Carmen-
cita Pensol, go in rags, and with my hands
bare.”
“ The loveliest hands in the universe,” said
his Excellency, admiring them leisurely. “ The
most adorable since Cleopatra’s. Well, we must
see what can be done.”
“ But it is not well,” she cried, her white
shoulders moving irritably. “You talk and
talk—”
“I shall also think,” he said, rising from his
chair, and coming to stand beside her. He put
out a hand, and laid it tenderly on her arm,
smiling down into the liquid eyes upturned to
meet his.
She ﬂashed White teeth at him, and laughed.
“Then I shall have more money and more
frocks?”
“ Though the heavens fall,” he said gently.
On the morning following, it was still early


UNPOETIC JUSTICE 13
when Don Luis descended, and rang for his
secretary. The latter appeared, rubbing his
eyes sleepily. “Your Excellency?” he ques-
tioned.
The President stroked his chin complacently.
“ Soto, there are in the city some who are not
well affected to our person.”
“ Many, Excellency,” said the secretary.
“ Then bring a few of them to me,” said Don
Luis amiably. “Those would be the leaders
in any trouble. Conduct them through back
streets to the private door of my study. I shall
interview them immediately.”
“ But, your Excellency, they will not come,”
began Soto.
“ You mistake, my good fellow, they will
hasten with speed to assure me that nothing sur-
passes their attachment to my person and ofﬁce.
Away! You waste valuable time. V aya!
return quickly.”
For some time after Soto had gone out, his
Excellency continued to pace up and down the
room, smoking an excellent cigar. He appeared
thoughtful, pleasantly so. Then he descended
to his study on the ground ﬂoor, and, sitting
down in a comfortably cushioned chair, went
carefully through some documents of State.


14 ‘ THE MESH
Presently, there came a knock at the door,
and Soto entered. He preceded into the room
four hot, dusty, and alarmed individuals, who
promptly began to explain to his Excellency
the full intent and meaning of their devotion.
But Don Luis signed to his secretary to close
and lock the door, giving 0n the street, and,
with a disturbed air, rang a bell which stood on
a bureau before him. At once, there was the
tramp of feet from an outer passage, the second
door of the room was ﬂung open, and ﬁve mmles
armed with Mauser carbines ﬁled into the study.
“Seize these men and keep them under
arrest! ” cried Don Luis. “ But ﬁrst search
them under my eyes.”
Despite the oaths, protests, and appeals of the
four men, they were seized and searched. On
one was found a knife, on another a revolver.
The President fronted them with lowering
brows, one hand stretched out in a comminatory
gesture.
“ Ah! they seek my life. They intrude into
my room with weapons in their hands, and in
their hearts the foul purpose of assassination.
Take them at once to the strong room in the
basement, and secure them with cords. Mean-
while, no word of this to anyone. G0! ”-


UNPOETIC JUSTICE 1'5
When the prisoners had been removed, Don
Luis smiled, sighed, and, lighting a fresh cigar,
glanced at Soto, who was regarding him with
some mystiﬁcation.
“ Soto, I have another errand for you. You
know the prison. Go there; ask for the Gover-
nor; tell him to send me here those four criminals
who were imprisoned on a charge of burglary
last month. One, I believe, is a! Swede. Tell
the Governor that I also Wish to see the tools
found upon the men when they were arrested—
wait! Ask him to accompany the men."
“I go, your Excellency,” said Soto, and
went.
The President took up a novel and became
absorbed in its pages, until a sound warned him
that the Governor, with the prisoners under
guard, was at the outer door. In response to
his polite invitation, ﬁrst the Governor, then
Soto, followed by four men with a small escort
of rurales, entered. Don Luis bade the ofﬁcial
be seated, dismissed Soto and the guard, and
stared steadily at the four prisoners who had
been submitted for his inspection.
“ Your name is Forgas? ” he asked the most
burly of the men.
“ It is, your Excellency.”


16 THE MESH
“ Bueno! I have been inquiring into your case,
and, to my mind, there has been a miscarriage
of justice. Seﬁor el Gubernador, I observe
that one of your men has brought the tools found
on these ”
“ Yes, your ExCellency.”
Don Luis nodded. “ Forgas,” he said, “ why
was it that, at your trial, you did not state that
you were a travelling locksmith? ”
“ I—I ” stammered the man, evidently
surprised.
“ That will do. You have been rightly
served for the foolish impulse which led you
to omit details which would have led to
your acquittal—of your companions, two
follow the same trade, the third is a clock-
maker? ”
The men, still perplexed, nodded vigorous
assent. This was new to them.
Don Luis addressed the astonished Gover-
nor. “ In this case I shall exercise my preroga-
tive of mercy. These men are to be released;
to be held, temporarily, at my disposal, rather.
You, Governor, are a servant of the State, of
which I have the honour to be head. Be honest!
Govern wisely those committed to your care!
Attend,” he pointed a ﬁnger, “ attend to the in—


UNPOETIC JUSTICE 17
structions of those who direct the destinies of
the republic—I commend your service. Adios.”
“ But—” began the Governor, glancing at
his prisoners with an uneasy eye.
“ Taking with you the guard,” continued the
President softly. “ I salute you. Adios, seﬁor.”
The Governor, much perplexed, gave way.
He saluted, opened the door, and retired. Then
Don Luis rang the bell for his mmZes, and gave
an order.
“ Lead these men below, but see that they
do not get away. They should be given a
full meal. And you, Intendente, return to me
here.”
The oﬂicer bowed, and the prisoners were '
withdrawn under guard. Then the lntendente
came back. “ Your Excellency?”
“ Intendente, you have the uniforms of your
corps. At dark this evening see that the four
men are clothed in them. They will join with
a half-section of your men. At twelve, mid-
night, remember, you will go to the English
Bank, in the calle Suarez. I have received
information,” he smiled signiﬁcantly, “which
leads me to believe that an attack will be made
on the bank by a number of disaffected persons.
At the bank you will act under my instructions.
B


18 THE MESH
Meanwhile, prepare the men you have bound
below to leave this house to-night. They will
also go to the English Bank, placed in the
centre of your men.”
“ Very well, your Excellency.”
It was very dark that night. The sky was
bare of stars; the moon still lurked deep below
the horizon. At eleven, the economical muni-
cipality extinguished the street lamps, and, there-
after, the streets were black as pitch. In Don
Luis’ mansion, all was bright and gay. The
windows blazed with light, and envious loungers
in the plaza could see servants passing across
the squares illumined by the hanging electroliers
within. In his room, Don Luis was dressing
himself in the uniform of an ofﬁcer of mmles.
Near his feet lay a sack, containing certain tools.
He smiled very cheerfully, and whistled a
snatch from “ Nozze di Figaro ” with great
accuracy and sweetness . In the room below the
four released prisoners were assuming other
uniforms, While the four citizens in mufti watched
them with amazed alarm.
Every man of the force of rurales had been
instructed to wear grass sandals; footwear which
enabled them to pass almost noiselessly through
	he streets. They wore those normally on


UNPOETIC JUSTICE 19
night duty, but never before had marched
through the city in them, such a considerable
force.
Presently, the lights in the mansion were
extinguished, and the bold stucco facade, in the
renaissance manner, faded out into the gloom
which brooded all around. A side door opened,
and a man wearing the uniform of ‘an Intendente
walked quietly out, followed by another ofﬁcer
with a small column of his force. In the midst
of this latter were four men disaffected citizens
of the republic, painfully left in doubt whether
they were marching to glory or execution.
The little column passed on its way, moving
softly, disturbing not even the lightest slum-
berer, and gradually drawing near the calle
Suarez.
The residents of the English Bank House
comprised the manager—a young man inclined
to stoutness and pomposity—two servants, a
man and a woman, and the bank messenger, a
mestizo, who was intensely zealous and very
stupid. The manager slept on the ﬁrst ﬂoor;
the servants in the basement; the messenger in
a room near the main entrance.
Arriving opposite the bank premises, the
Intendente told his men to form a cordon about


20 THE MESH
the door, and himself rang the bell which com-
municated with the bank messenger. After a
short space of time, the man opened the great
door cautiously, and peered out. In his left
hand he held a repeating shot-gun, in the right
a lamp which he raised to throw light upon the
face of the man who had rung. At sight of the
rurales’ uniform, he assumed a less tense pose,
and asked what was required of him at that
hour of night.
The Intendente, his sombrero pulled down
over his brows, informed him that he must come
a little distance from the door to speak upon an
important matter; meanwhile the mrales would
see that the place was guarded. This request
had all the force of a command. The messen-
ger left his shot-gun in the doorway, and fol-
lowed the Intendente.
Still, all was silent in the bank. Another
man, this time Don Luis in his new uniform,
took command.
At a word from him, the four innocent lock-
smiths entered the bank, carrying the tools of
their craft, and the four disaffected citizens fol-
lowed perplexedly. Don Luis came after, and
the silent force of armed men remained on guard
outside.


UNPOETIC JUSTICE 21
Don Luis seemed to know the bank inti-
mately. He directed the locksmiths to the
room where the safes were kept, and instructed
them to set to work at once. He knew that
they could not escape through the armed cordon.
Then he passed upstairs, driving the citizens ,
before him, and only paused on the landing out-
side the bedroom door of the bank manager.
This opened in a moment. The manager
had heard the sound of feet, and appeared in
his pyjamas, a heavy revolver in his hand.
“ Stop, or I ﬁre! ”
Don Luis advanced. “It is I—the Presi-
dent,” he announced quite shortly. “A force
of armed rurales are guarding the door. This
afternoon I received information that a number
of men had secreted themselves in this house,
with intent to commit a felony. For your
bank’s security, and for the credit of the republic,
the house must be searched from top .to bottom,
and the criminals seized. Have you any unused
top rooms? If so, seﬁor, show them to us.
With you and these four men, we shall search.
They cannot escape us.”
“ In this house! ” The perspiration began to
trickle down the manager’s face. Surely it was
impossible that men had forced an entry with-


22 THE MESH
out his knowledge. He thought of his respon-
sibility, of the probable loss of his post if the
bank should suffer from his negligence. “ Good
Heavens! ” he cried, mopping his face, “ you’re
not serious—you’re joking! I can’t believe it.
Why, the messenger sleeps below and it is difﬁ-
cult to—-”
“ No doubt,” said Don Luis, who was not dis-
inclined to continue the conversation. “It is
always diﬁicult, seﬁor mio, to believe that which
is unpalatable. I assure you that this affair is
equally disagreeable to me. In my republic,
I would have every man honest, and every man’s
property safe and secure—but we waste time
here. Let us search the upper ﬂoors.”
Temporel, the manager, was white, not from
any lack of courage, but from a very deﬁnite
realisation of what this meant to him.
“What shall we do?” he cried, trembling
visibly with agitation. “ Let us go downstairs
ﬁrst. They may have sacked the place already,
eh?”
“ No, no,” said Don Luis, laying a reassuring
hand on the shoulder of the young man. “ The
messenger sleeps below, as you have said, and
he did not seem to have heard any suspicious
sounds. In any case, a force of rurales is on


UNPOETIC JUSTICE 23
guard. The men could not escape through the
cordon. I saw to that at once. You will under-
stand that my men have barred every outlet.
With them on duty, we may proceed calmly to
make a search.”
“ That seems true,” said the unfortunate man-
ager, steadying himself, his appealing eyes ﬁxed
on Don Luis’ concerned face. “Well, let us
go upstairs at once—you do not know what this
means to me. I was only recently appointed,
and I have a little girl ”
He broke off, and covered his face with his
hands, the pistol falling to the floor. Then sud-
denly he stooped, picked up his weapon, and
sprang towards the stairway. “Come on, your
ExCellency, we may get them yet.”
“ I trust we shall,” said the President, smiling
gently at his retreating back. He motioned
the four waiting men to follow Temporel, and
proceeded leisurely to follow in their wake.
Below, in the bank, the four expert work-
men hurried on with their task. They had been
supplied with an oxy-abetylene plant in addition
to the tools found upon them when arrested.
Soon one safe door was open, and they set to
work upon the next. In the meanwhile, the In-
tendente had sent the bank messenger with a


24 THE MESH
private message to General Mayoro, and re-
turned to the bank with three men, carrying
bags in which they bestowed the contents of the
ﬁrst safe. The cavalry barracks lay a mile and
a half from the town, and the Intendente knew
that the messenger could not deliver his message,
and return, in much less than an hour—the Gen-
eral being a heavy sleeper, and not the sweetest
tempered of men when incontinently aroused
from his slumbers. The sacks, then, with their
valuable contents, were carried out through the
main entrance of the bank, unseen or unnoticed
by the cordon of mmles stationed on the dark
roadway.
The second safe soon yielded to its masters.
It contained some unnegotiable scrip, a number
of bank—notes, and, in a soiled leather jewel-case,
the tiara and necklet of diamonds so unwisely
ﬂaunted by the Doha Maria Luisa Carboles.
The Intendente returned, and emptied the
second safe as he had done the ﬁrst, replacing
the scrip and the notes, which were of no imme-
diate value to his employer, and might enable
the bank authorities to set on foot certain dan-
gerous inquiries.


CHAPTER II
THE UNHAPPY DUPE
WHILE the men were working quietly below,
Don Luis and his helpers had made an exhaus-
tive search of the upper rooms. Sounding walls,
tapping the ﬂooring, looking under and behind
piles of papers, rubbish, dismembered furniture.
The time ﬂew. Temporel was hopeful at ﬁrst,
then dejected. His impatience increased.
Surely it would be better to look into the office
of the bank itself, to be certain that all was well?
But the President held him—by argument, by
ridicule, by appeals to his practical common
sense. The rurales were waiting outside in the
street; the concealed criminals, if such were
there, could not break through the line. So he
made time, and waited for a prearranged signal.
The Intendente, having secured the valuable
contents of the safes, made his workmen pack up
the plant, only directing them to leave the other
25


26 THE MESH
tools scattered haphazard on the ﬂoor. Then
he led them back to the street.
“ Six of my men will escort you back to the
President’s palacio,” he told them privately, as
they passed through the hall. “ The men think
you are new recruits. Be silent—-on your
lives! ”
Having dismissed the men, under guard, he
returned to the bank, and ran upstairs, shouting
as he went:
“Excellency! Your Excellency! The bank
has been sacked. They have taken all. Come
quickly! ”
Temporel heard the shout, dropped his pistol,
and staggered against the wall. “ Oh, my
Heavens!” he groaned, “ this is the end. I’m
done for.”
“Come, seﬁor,” said Don Luis, in a kindly
tone, “ we must see what can be done—” As
he spoke, the Intendente rushed in upon them,
his eyes staring, his hands pantomiming horror.
“ Capos, calm yourself. What has happened? ”
“The men must have forestalled us,” cried
the other. “ They must have robbed the bank,
while the messenger slept. Two safes have
been opened.”
“ No more than two?” asked Temporel, in a


THE UNHAPPY DUPE 27
broken, husky voice, dragging himself forward.
“ Come with me.”
Suddenly, like a marionette of which the wire
is violently agitated, he sprang forward. He
descended the stairs three steps at a time, his
face twitching, his jaw set in an unmeaning
grimace. The President and his companions
followed more leisurely.
The scene in the safe-room of the bank ﬁlled
him with horror and dismay. Yes, the place
had been sacked—that was the right word. Of
the contents of the two safes, nothing remained
but the scrip and the notes. This was an end
to his dreams of marrying the little girl who
waited for him in far-off England. They had had
such high hopes, these two; they had counted
on so much. Then Temporel had been pro-
moted from cashier in a London branch to be
manager of the South American branch in Santa
Malua, and they had seen in this step the early
fulﬁlment of all they had waited for so long.
Temporel was no longer pompous of manner.
The events of the past hour had broken—and
made him. The idle habit of mind engendered
by years of regulations and of routine was shed
from him in this hour of trial.
F uriously, they searched for traces of the


28 THE MESH
criminals, but discovered none, except the tools
which lay scattered on the ﬂoor. The President
threw into his efforts such vigour and energy
that Temporel was impressed. That the great
man should so labour to retrieve the misfortune
touched him to a sense of gratitude; deeply felt
because he knew that from this time forward he
would ﬁnd few friends to help him. The estab-
lishment of a foreign bank in Santa Malua had
stirred up local prejudices. The ignorant resi-
dents had seen in it some vague menace to their
petty interests. From the bank directors at
home he expected little. They were business
men of a normal type; hard-headed men, good
parehts and husbands, but also servants of a
company which had to show good dividends.
The loss of so much money, and of jewels com-
mitted to their care by a new and wealthy cus-
tomer, was not a light matter, nor would they
regard it as such.
“Your Excellency,” he said, at last, sitting
down on a high stool, “it’s no good. They
must have got away before your men came up.”
“ Do not lose hope,” said Don Luis, with an
almost paternal air. He began to gather the
tools from the ﬂoor, and to place them in a
bag, which had lain disregarded under a chair.


THE UNHAPPY DUPE 29
“ These tools may help us to identify the crimi-
nals. I shall communicate with the Chief of
Police, but, in the meantime, I must take charge
of these. Ah! here comes the messenger.”
José, hot, dusty, and frightened, ﬂung into
the room, and went straight to Temporel.
“ Seﬁor, is it true? ”
“It is true,” said Temporel sombrely.
“ José, I fear you will lose your place over this.”
“Ay de mi! my place lost!” The man
wrung his hands.
“ But it will be easy for you to get another
place,” said the manager, looking at Don Luis,
who was watching with an air of sympa-
thetic goodwill. “With me it is different——
it is different.”
The President moved forward. “ Seﬁor el
administrador, I must wish you good night. In
the morning we will inquire further into this.
V amos, hombres! ”
He drove the four men before him from the
room. The messenger lingered for a few
moments, looking blankly at his master, who
stared into vacancy with a set and ghastly smile,
then he retired to lock up the premises.
Temporel was alone. In the street outside
the mrales moved off. There was the sound


30 THE MESH
of soft, padding feet. Then stillness fell about
the bank, the silence of quiet night. Behind
Temporel, the safes in the little safe-room gaped
reproachful and accusing.
Presently, he laid his ﬂushed face on his
hands, and his shoulders shook. The blood,
ﬂowing in a quickened stream from his heart,
seemed to gather like a ﬂood, to submerge his
brain, to beat like the loosened waters of a
dam against the back of his eyes. It was like
the shouting of waters, exultant and past
restraint.
He continued to sit there, hunched up, immo-
bile. He was thinking of the things that had
been, that might not be again.
On the following morning, the semi-oﬂicial
M undo devoted half a column leader to a pane-
gyric upon the President, ﬁrst giving details of
the bank robbery, and winding up with:
“ It is known to all men that his valiant and
immensely respected Excellency, our President,
Don Luis Pescate, has for many years led this
Glorious and Effulgent Republic in the van of
civilisation. But he has wider claims to our
respect. His paternal solicitude for the welfare
of his people extends to cover with a golden


THE UNHAPPY,- DUPE- 3 1
mantle of protection even the strangers and so-
journers within our gates.
“ He was the ﬁrst on the scene of the dastardly
outrage above referred to, leading our brave
rurales at the risk of his life; abandoning sleep,
forgetting his own high person, working nobly
to project and preserve the property of the Eng-
lish bankers.
“ Long live his Excellency, a landmark to
other national directors, a father to his devoted
and loving people!
“ V iva la Liberiad! ’3
This leader had been carefully written by his
Excellency, and forwarded to the ofﬁces of
E l M undo by the hand of his secretary. The
paper was in receipt of a small subsidy from the.
Government, and was the medium through which
it delivered its pronunciamientos.
The President’s morning was spent in receiv-
ing callers—generals, colonels, the commander
of the cruiser Don Luis, lying in the blue bay
beyond the mole, and sundry military small fry,
with most of the notables of Santa Malua.
They poured through the doors of the palacio
in a Congratulatory stream; commenting volubly
upon his Excellency’s goodness, graciousness,


THE UNHAPPY DUPE 33
Peters, the cashier, looked up, and a light 'came
into his eyes. “ So, ho! ” he thought, “ the
managership may fall vacant soon.” He liked
to think that Temporel had in some vague way
taken from him the coveted post at Santa Malua.
Of course, Temporel would be held responsible
now. Might it not be a good thing to write to
the directors proffering his own services. But
no—he must go slow, and wait for news. Per-
haps, indeed, those beasts of directors had some
protégé of their own waiting to go out!
These thoughts ﬂashed through his mind as
he looked at the cable message handed to him
by Marino. “All right,” he said aloud, “I’ll
just count the words—poor devil! this affair will
muddle him up a bit with the chiefs at home.”
That morning the bank premises were invaded
by a small army of rurales, policemen, and Presi-
dential emissaries. They interviewed Temporel
at length; were shown over the building from
top to bottom; took solemn measurements; ‘
made small notes in large notebooks; and gen-
erally comported themselves as inefﬁcient detec-
tives confronted with a mystery which they
clearly realised was beyond their power to solve.
Nothing of a hopeful nature came of their
investigations. Don Luis sent his secretary
c


34 THE MESH
with a message to say that he had had the bur-
glars’ tools examined by an expert, who had
given it as his opinion that they bore no mark
which would help to identify the owners. This
was comfortless and unsatisfactory. Temporel
began to see that he need expect no useful help
from the local authorities. It only remained
for him to await the cable from his directors,
the purport of which he was able to guess.
When the last caller had gone, he again re-
tired to his private room, passing through the
general ofﬁce, his head up, his shoulders
squared.
“ Bad business, sir,” said Peters, as he
went by.
The manager nodded, but did not reply. He
was conscious of a certain new familiarity in his
subordinate’s tone, and did not relish it. Intui-
tively, he guessed at the man’s thoughts. But,
once behind the private door, he rang the bell
for José, the messenger, who came to him
promptly.
“ You require me, seﬁor? ”
“ Look here, Jose,” began Temporel, sitting
back in his chair, and ﬁdgeting with some
papers, “this is a very bad business. You
understand that you are practically acting as


THE UNHAPPY DUPE 35
watchman here. Last night, as you know, the
bank was burgled. To enter, the men must
have passed your door; did you hear any sus-
picious sounds? ”
Iosé’s olive face went a dirty white. “ No,
senor, I swear it.”
“ Strange—very strange,” said the manager
in an absent voice. “Come, tell me what oc-
curred when the rumles arrived last night. You
did not enter with the President? ”
José explained what had taken place, and
added: “ Seﬁor, the Intendente sent me to the
cavalry barracks with a message for General
Mayoro. I returned as soon as possible.”
“ Ah! did the message request the General to
come back with you? ”
“ Seﬁor, I cannot tell. It was a written
message, and was handed to me in an envelope.
The General said to me, ‘ Tell his Excellency
I will send ten troopers.’ ”
“ That was all? ”
“ Yes, senor.” The man hesitated, then went
on timidly: “ Does the seﬁor believe that I shall
lose my place here because the ladrones broke
in while I slept?”
Temporel shook his head regretfully, feeling
that he was in like case, though he did not care


36 THE MESH
to say so. “I cannot tell you. I believe that
it is very possible. I trust that the matter may
not go further, but, at present, it is impossible
to forecast anything. You may go now, josé.
I will do what I can for you.”
When josé had gone, Temporel turned
wearily to the arranging of some papers on his
desk. He felt sick at heart. At this moment
they might be ﬂashing from ocean to ocean his
directors’ fateful cable. For a time he tried to
delude himself into the belief that all would come
right, that the money would be recovered, and
the matter cleared up. But not for long. He
knew that much might be forgiven him, but
never the loss of the bank’s money.
On the following morning the cablegram ar-
rived. He scanned the ﬂimsy slip, ﬂung it from
him, and grew gradually paler. He stood stock-
still for a minute, staring into space; silent,
enraged, despairing. The cable, in the insane
words of an insane code, informed him that the
directors asked him to hand in his resignation.
He had a twelve months’ agreement with them,
and was to retain his post until the arrival of
his successor. His salary for the forthcoming
year must serve in lieu of notice. The word
“ resignation” was a mere mockery.


THE UNHAPPY DUPE 37
“ Curse them! ” cried Temporel, smarting
under the blow, “ and those ruﬂians who have
ruined me——” He stopped; bit his lips; saw in
a sudden and complete vision the girl who waited
for him in England. The oaths died upon his
lips. There was surely something better than
futile and idle swearing, some more manly way
of meeting the crisis. But he stood still, his
eyes under tight lids, his mouth half-open, as if
he had received a terrible and unexpected blow
in the face.
How was he going to tell her? But was there
any need for that yet? He had two months
before his successor would arrive. He would be
in possession of a year’s salary. It was neces-
sary that he should discover the bank robbers.
If the local authorities did not succeed, he must.
In the end he would achieve his purpose, set
himself right with his directors, and ask to be
reinstated. With this thought in his mind, he
sat down to write a letter, acknowledging receipt
of the cable, and enclosing a report, with details
regarding the inquiries which had been set on
foot.
Then he took a sheet of private writing-paper,
and began a letter to his ﬁancée, Miss Carvel.
He wrote in a cheerful strain, quite at varianCe


38 THE MESH
with the gloomy mood which was on him, and
passed over the bank robbery as “ a little case
of theft at the office,” and expressed a hope that
he might soon be able to send for her.
The last paragraph gave him most pain to
write. “ My dearest girl,” he said, “ do not build
too much on our early marriage. You see,
business has not come in rapidly yet—local
prejudices are a factor—and I shall not get
the necessary rise until the branch is fully
established.”
He closed with contradictory hopes, endearing
words, with those tender banalities which will
endure when the most daring and forceful
phrases shall have lost their meaning. Then
he sealed and stamped the envelope and went
out to post it.
Don Luis, in his palacio, was also busy.
Before the darkness had given place to day, on
the morning of fhe raid, ten troopers rode into
the patio. They found, in the pleasant court,
four men, gagged, bound, and strapped to the
saddles of their horses. Don Luis’ secretary
was there to give instructions. These four men,
daring and dangerous criminals, were, he said,
to be conveyed to the fort at Puerto Pelos, and
there kept in solitary conﬁnement at the Presi-


THE UNHAPPY DUPE 39
dent’s pleasure; the troopers took their orders
obediently. After all, it was no affair of theirs.
At the same hour, a letter was sent to the
Governor of the jail in Santa Malua, and ran as
follows :—
“ MY VERY EXCELLENT F R1END,—-I have sub-
jected the four criminals to a searching and thor-
ough examination, and regret that I made, in
the ﬁrst instance, a rash and hasty judgment
which may have seemed to reflect on your
discrimination.
“ Contrary to my expressed belief, they have
failed to prove their innocence; and, in these
circumstances, I consider them deserving of the
severest punishment. I have consigned them,
under escort, to the fortress at Puerto Pelos.
The tools found upon them at the time of their
arrest, I return to you for inclusion 1n the Crim-
inal Museum.
“ Accept, my excellent friend, the assurance
of my most distinguished regards,
“ DON LUIs PARAJAL PESCATE,
“ President of the Republic of Coquibe.”
These matters arranged, Don Luis settled
himself again to enjoy life. At the hour when
Temporel was writing to his distant Cynthia,


40 THE MESH
the President was standing beside the Doﬁa
Carmencita Pensol in the salon of his residence,
and listening gravely to the explanations of his
private jeweller.
“ This tiara, your Excellency, can be readily
managed,” the man was saying. “I shall have
the stones taken out, and mounted again after
the design of which your Excellency has
done me the honour to approve—the necklet
also.”
“ Bumo/ ” said Don Luis, pinching the ear of
his inamorata and smiling down into her face,
“go then and see that the work is done well
and speedily.”
When the jeweller had gone, Carmencita went
off into a delicious gurgle of laughter.
“ Luis, you are the most adorable man in the
world.”
“ Sin duda,” he said, putting his hand on her
shoulder, “without doubt, heart of my life, I
shall remain so until you have spent the money,
and tired of the jewels—after ”
“ And, well?” said she.
“ Well,” he said, smiling cynically, who
knows but some day even I—such things have
happened, querida.”
She stood up, and putting an arm about his

“


THE UNHAPPY DUPE 4r
neck, kissed him on the lips. “ With some
women, yes. With me, no,” she said.
He still smiled. “ You misunderstand me,
sweet of my life. I was going to add that, some
day, I might even tire—of you! ”


CHAPTER III
PREGNANT SILENCE
Two days later, Temporel met the President.
In rather a gloomy humour, he had left the
bank to take a paseo on the Alameda, and, as he
turned from the avenue into the plaza, Don
Luis’ carriage whirled round the corner. The
President saw him, cried out to his coachman,
and the big landau drew up. Temporel saw a
beckoning hand, and, raising his hat, advanced
to greet his Excellency.
“ Seﬁor Temporel,” said the latter, smiling
sympathetically, “I am sorry that the inquiry
has not been much advanced. They do not
seem to have solved that mysterious affair at
the bank. We were just too late in arriving.
Accept my regrets, and, if you please, communi-
cate them to the seﬁores, your directors.”
“ Thank you,” said Temporel. “ Your Ex-
cellency is very kind. I have already communi-
42


PREGNANT SILENCE 43
cated to my directors the fact that you took a
personal interest in that unfortunate affair.”
Don Luis bit his lip. The peculiar turn of
the phrase seemed momentarily disquieting.
Without purpose, the manager had struck the
mark. “Well, well,” he said, recovering his
composure, “we must not yet abandon hope.
Some other time we shall talk of it. At the
moment, I have other business with you. Will
you dine with me some night this week, say
Friday? ”
“I shall be delighted,” said Temporel grate-
fully. “ Delighted and honoured.”
“I shall expect you then at eight o’clock.
Now, adios. I have an appointment with the
Minister of Commerce.”
The carriage drove on. Temporel felt a new
lightness of heart. He had some friends still.
“ What a good sort he is,” he was saying to him-
self as he looked after the fast-disappearing car-
riage. “ By jove! now I come to think of it, he
might get me a place here, when I have to leave
the bank; I must sound him on that point.”
While he stood there, absorbed in the possi-
bilities of this new idea, a slight, bearded man
had approached, and was surveying him from
the distance of a few paces. When the Presi-


PREGNANT SILENCE 45
scious of that, perhaps, for he spun once more
upon his heels, and shook his head sorrowfully,
as if at a loss to proceed.
Temporel thrust his hands into his trousers’
pockets, and stared at him. “ My dear fellow, I
can’t understand What you mean. If you have
anything to say, please say it. I am not a quick
hand at picking up sign language.”
The other pointed ﬁrst to himself, then Tem-
porel, and managed by an expressive look to
indicate that he wished the Englishman to
accompany him. The latter was in two minds.
Perhaps the fellow had something to say—he
seemed intensely anxious. Possibly he under-
stood neither English nor Spanish. On the
other hand, it was possible that he was endeav-
ouring to decoy Temporel into some criminal
haunt, with evil intention. But curiosity pre_
vailed over prudence in the Englishman’s
mind. He looked up and down the street, and
nodded.
“ All right. Go on, and I will follow you.”
A look of intense satisfaction ﬂitted across the
man’s mobile face. He did not attempt to con-
ceal his feelings, but smiled openly, and approv-
ingly upon Temporel, who stared back inquir-
ingly Leaving the corner of the Alameda, and


46 THE MESH
skirting the palm-fringed enclosure in the centre
of the Gran’ Plaza, they walked quickly to the
spot where the calle Destina debouches into the
square. The President’s residence stood at
this corner; the main facade fronting the plaza,
the side running on the street.
The man stopped there, and looked upwards,
tapping Temporel on the shoulder.
“ Well, what is it now? ”
The other again drew money from his pocket,
but this time varied the pantomime by feigning
to place it upon one of the sills of a window near
them. That done, he stared expectantly, an-
xiously at his companion, his face a study in
half-sick hope. Temporel shook his head. He
could not understand. He believed, indeed,
that the man must be insane. Observing the
look of doubt and amazement the other re-
doubled his exertions. He almost danced
before Temporel, ﬂinging out his arms, grima-
cing, endeavouring to express by signs some-
thing inexplicable and vague. That, at least,
was how it seemed to Temporel. Without wish-
ing to appear impolite, he was anxious to leave
the man. He was now well aware that he would
never understand what his companion tried so
eagerly, but so silently to express.


PREGNANT SILENCE 47
“I am sorry,” he said, at length, “ but
I am in a hurry, and you must excuse
”
me.
His companion looked at him mournfully, and
with a sudden swift access of excitement, pulled
at his sleeve. Temporel followed him. They
passed down the calle Destina, cut across a side
street, and entered the calle Suarez. Here they
stopped near the bank; the man pointed at the
building, and began vigorously to gesticulate.
But the Englishman’s patience had come to an
end. He moved off a few paces, and raising his
hat prepared to resume his walk. Whether the
man in normal circumstances would have en-
deavoured to detain him is uncertain; for, at
that moment, a mounted rurale came trotting
down the street.
He was still some ﬁfty paces distant when the
man caught sight of him, and stood suddenly
still, ﬁxed, as it were, in making an excited
gesture. His face became suddenly despon-
dent. Then his arms fell to his sides; he left
Temporel, and hurried quickly up the street.
He went without ceremony, without a word, as
if the appearance of that solitary rurale was the
signal which set him in motion. Before the
rurale had come level with Temporel, he had


48 THE MESH
turned into the calle Santander, and disap-
peared.
The manager looked after him wonderingly.
What the deuce did the fellow mean by his pos~
turing and gesticulating? Why didn’t he speak?
Apparently he did not wish to be seen by the
rurale, who was busying himself with the rolling
of a cigarette, the reins lying loose on his horse’s
neck. Of course, it was possible that he was
known to the police ; a fact which would account
for his sudden departure. If this were true, it
was as well that Temporel had not followed him
farther.
Temporel, however, soon forgot the incident.
The sight of the bank building reminded him
sharply of the robbery which had dealt a death-
blow to his hopes. He wondered anew how the
criminals had contrived to insinuate themselves
into the building without being observed. He
judged that it was impossible that they could
have entered during the hours of daylight. At
ﬁve o’clock, the doors were closed and bolted for
the night. He now approached the main en-
trance, and, for the twentieth time, closely scru-
tinised the massive iron door. There was not a
scratch, not a mark to show how the entry had
been made. The deftest burglar must leave


PREGNANT S'I'LENCE 49
some traces of his handiwork, but there was
nothing to be seen.
It was strange. There remained Only the sup-
positiOn, difﬁcult of belief, that the thieves had
stolen into the premises by day, and had secreted
themselves someWhere until nightfall. Temporel
turned away disappointed. He looked up and
doWn the 'street. Nor a soul was in sight.
Lighting a cigar, be debated whether he would
resume his interrupted fmeo, or return to the
rooms in the bank to ponder on new lines
of inquiry. But Fate decided f0r him. As
he stood there, thinking absently, the sound
of running feet startled him, and made him
turn.
From the entrance to the calle Santander, a
man came running. His face was flushed, and
dripping With perspiration. He went like a man
pursued, and Temporel now heard the distant
clatter of hoofs.
The man ran straight towards him. He was
the very renow who had mystiﬁed and intrigued
Temporel by his Silent but persistent panto-
miming.
“ What is it?” said the latter irritably, as the
panting man came up to him. Then something
told him. He read it in the man’s eyes, in
P


50 THE MESH
his despairing face, in the quick, hard breath-
ing that told of close pursuit. Even while
he put the question, he was fumbling for
his latchkey, found it, and turned it in the
lock.
“ Inside, quick! ” he said violently, as the door
yielded to his hand.
The man gave him a glance of thanks, sprang
to the opening, and disappeared. Temporel
shut the door, moved off a pace, and stood oppo-
site the main entrance of the bank.
He was standing there, watchful and expec-
tant, when a mounted rurale came galloping
from the calle Santander. Another appeared
from the cross street. One wheeled to the right,
and joined the other, and they came hastily up
the street to the bank.
“ Senor, you have seen a man running?”
asked the ﬁrst.
“ No,” said Temporel bluntly. He had
yielded to the promptings of a primal instinct——
the instinct which bids us shelter the hunted
—but he was asking himself if he had made a
mistake. Had he been wise to shelter the ﬂying
man? ‘
“ But he came this way, seﬁor,” protested the ,
second male. ’


PREGNANT SILENCE 51
“ Possibly, but I am not looking for running
men. What was he like this fellow? ”
“ A slight man, and bearded, senor. We have
orders to apprehend him on a charge of having
broken into your honour’s bank.”
Temporel started. For a moment he was
tempted to say that the man they sought was at
that instant behind his private door. Then came
a doubting question: why should a bank robber
fly for protection to the bank itself. It was
absurd.
“ I will let you know if I see such a man,” he
said indifferently. “ The scoundrel must be
taken, of course. If he returns this way I shall
detain him.”
“Thank you, senor; we shall be glad of any
information,” said the rurale who had ﬁrst
spoken; then to his comrade, “ Pardo, I shall ride
towards the Plaza Magellan; you must search
the calle Juan Esposito, and the alleys near-by
—adios, seﬁor.”
They spurred on, with a jingle of silver-
mounted headstalls, their carbines pounding
lightly in the leather buckets. Temporel
watched them for a moment; then entered his
private doorway, and opened the door. He pro-
ceeded cautiously up the stairs.


52 THE MESH
He found the hunted man on the landing,
crouching behind a curtain. He could also see
the dull steel of a knife blade half withdrawn
from his belt. But at sight of his protector, the
man pushed back the weapon and advanced with
outstretched hands. The Englishman surveyed
him dubiously, almost harshly.
“ Well, the rurales have passed. I told them
a lie; I said that I had not seen you.”
The man seized his hand, and pressed it to his
lips. His eager eyes shone with friendliness and
gratitude. Still he did not speak.
“ Are you dumb? ” cried Temporel angrily.
He felt that he had been a fool. Even the man’s
exuberant gratitude could not drive away that
idea. If this fellow had not been concerned in
the bank robbery what did he mean by that
pantomime with the money he took from his
pockets? Temporel ﬂushed up.
“ Why don’t you speak? They tell me you
are suspected of breaking into this bank. Well,
if that is true, you have ruined me—do you hear?
—ruined me. If I thought you had, my
Heavens! I’d smash you where you stand. I’d
smash you! ”
He surprised himself by this mood of gusty
anger which seemCd to have sprung out of noth-


PREGNANT SILENCE‘ 53
ing. Something hot ﬁlled him like embers
kindled suddenly by the breath of a strong
wind. The memory of what had destroyed at
a blow his career and his best hopes spurred
him to an outburst of almost uncontrollable
anger.
“ Eh, did you?” he cried. “ Won’t you
speak? I’ll force it out of you! You followed
me this evening with your infernal foolery, but
that don’t matter—this does. It means every-
thing to me.” He grew incoherent; the words
ran off his tongue, jostled, clipped of their ter-
minations, in a mad race to surge upon this si-
lent man. “ Were you one of them? If I thought
it—even thought it. It was all one to you. You
wanted money, and you took it. I was in
charge, but you never thought what it would
mean to me. You didn’t care, blast you
all! ”
The man looked disconcerted and dismayed.
He put out his hands again, and shook his head
vigorously.
Temporel suddenly gripped him by the shoul-
ders. “ You’ve got to tell me!” If this were
indeed one of the robbers, he might be able to
recover some of the stolen money; only a few
days had passed. He shook the man violently.


54 THE MESH
“ Yes, you’ve got to. See? I’ll have it out of
you, if I have to—won’t you speak? ”
The man had not attempted to struggle. He
remained quiet, silent, protesting only with one
expressive hand.
The meaning of it all came suddenly to Tem-
porel. That hot something seemed to chill
suddenly within him, to die, as a spark dies sud-
denly in a close place. He felt hopeless, list-
less: the reaction after these moments of intense
nervous strain. The man was armed, but had
not attempted to use his weapon. He could not
be the criminal—the idea was absurd. - Tem-
porel gaped at him, and repeated his former
question, but now with a new signiﬁcance.
“ Are you dumb? ”
The man nodded aﬂirmatively, his teeth
showing in an apologetic and explanatory smile.
He put up a hand to his lips, tapped them,
nodded once more.
“ I’m awfully sorry—” Temporel stammered
in English, seeing now the brutality of which he
had been capable. His disappointment was like
a blow. If this had been the man, he would
have glutted his rage upon him. His hand had
itched for a strangle grip; to force. the robber
down, to kneel upon him, to crash his ﬁst down


56 THE MESH-
be right; to shelter even a suspect. It would be
difﬁcult, too, to conceal the fact of the man’s
presence from the servants. “Will you wait a
little, or? go at once? I will give you a glass of
brandy.” '
He led the way to the sitting-room, found a
decanter half-full of brandy, and poured out a
glass of the liquor. The man gulped it. They
descended the stairs, and coming to the outer
door, Temporel opened it, and glanced out.
The dark had fallen suddenly. The street,
from the absence of noise, seemed almost
deserted.
“ Ready?” he asked.
The man pressed his hand, and slipped past
him. Temporel stood close in the doorway,
looking in the direction taken by the fugitive.
As he looked, the stone paving emitted a shower
of sparks; a horse’s hoofs clattered furiously;
and mingled with that sound the rush of a man’s
running feet. Then the darkness opened to a
ﬁne, wedge-like spurt of ﬂame, and the report of
a pistol woke the slumbering echoes.
Temporel went hastily indoors, locked the
door behind him, and ascended to his sitting-
room facing the street. He looked out through
the slats of the. jalousies butcouldsee nothing.


PREGNANT SILENCE 57
All was dark. The street lamps had not yet
been lighted. Had they laid a trap for the
dumb man, hoping to catch him in the darkness?
It seemed so.
To-morrow he might hear what had happened.


CHAPTER IV
A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL
PUNCTUALLY at the hour of eight on Friday
evening, Temporel reached the President’s
palacio. He wore a well-cut evening-suit,
carried a crush hat, and seemed in some measure
to have recovered his former good spirits. He
had heard nothing of the dumb man since, nor
of any arrest having been made. To tell the
truth, he was hoping for a great deal from this
interview with his Excellency. He knew there
were many Government posts in Coquibe which
carried a good salary, and would be suitable for
a man familiar with ﬁnance. The President had
been kind; his manner suggested that he was
prepared to show his goodwill by another
friendly act.
A mozo took his cane and hat, another pre-
ceded him up a broad, soft-carpeted stairway to
the room where they were to dine. It was one
58


A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL; 59
of the smaller rooms, normally sacred, though
Temporel did not know it, to those light hours
when Carmencita Pensol dined or supped with
his Excellency. Now, covers were laid for two,
a fact which seemed to hint at a certain intimacy
between him and the great man.
The President appeared. He spoke English
easily and well. Extending his hand, he greeted
Temporel with quiet amiability.
“ Ah! how do you do? I am delighted that
you are able to come. I wish to talk over some
matters with you. In part they relate to that
unfortunate affair at the bank, in part to your-
self—be seated. I will ring.”
Soup was served, an excellent clear soup, such
as Temporel had never before tasted in Santa
Malua. The gentle warmth acted like a stimu-
lant, and he glanced at the President gratefully.
“ Now, senor,” said the latter, bending a little
forward, “ there is something I wish to say, but
ﬁnd difﬁcult. One does not like to intrude one-
self upon the private affairs of another, but I
wish to help you, and I cannot do so till I know
how you stand.”
Temporel ﬂushed. He knew what this meant.
It was unpalatable to have to reply. But what
a good sort the President was! Such delicacy,


60 THE MESH
such tact. Personally, he had not expected
this.”
“Well, your Excellency, it is not pleasant
to talk about one’s failures, but you are right,
and you are very kind. That loss has damaged
me. My directors cannot afford to lose so much
without visiting it on someone.”
The President tilted his plate forward.
“ Much? But it was only a small sum, they
told me. Ten or twelve thousand pounds——”
“ That seems to me considerable.”
“Ah! to a bank with perhaps millions? But
you English are a commercial nation. What
then?”
“ They have asked me to hand in my resigna-
tion,” said Temporel ruefully. “ My successor
is already on his way here.”
“Scandalous!” cried Don Luis, with some
warmth. “ To dismiss an honourable and eﬂi-
cient gentleman because some ladrones stole a
few pounds—marina santisz'ma! ”
Temporel saw that it was unjust. He thought
of it while the servant took his soup plate, and
the ﬁsh course—a delicate kind of mullet, served
with a piquant sauce—was brought to table.
The President was right. It was a shame—an
infernal shame! They had treated him very


A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL 61
badly. After all the years he had served them,
too. He had been in no other bank. They had
had the best of him—years out of his life—and
now they threw him out because something had
happened to their confounded cash. He set his
teeth hard.
“I must not discuss my directors, however,”
he said.
“ True,” said the President, with an approving
look. “I admire loyalty to those who have
treated you so ill. But now a question.”
“ I will answer if I can.”
“ Well, how do you stand? When your suc-
cessor arrives, will you take some other post,
or return to England?”
To England? To see Cynthia, to confess
what had happened, to receive the patronising
commiseration of her relatives, to be forgiven,
perhaps, for a happening with which he had
nothing to do. That was unthinkable. He
bit his lip.
“ Your Excellency, I shall stay here. I
must ﬁnd the men who robbed the bank. I
shall never rest until they are found. I owe
that to myself—I shall take any post that
offers.”
“ Bravo! ” cried Don Luis. “That is the


62 THE MESH
spirit in which every man should meet unde-
served misfortune. You will go far—now, as
to the robbers. The police confess themselves
baffled; the rurales have scoured the country
for the criminals—in vain. Were I absolutely
master, they should never rest till the men were
found. But that is impossible. You know
these ignorant prejudices. The deputies would
say in Congress that I was spending the money
of the republic on behalf of a foreign company
which had come to Santa Malua to compete
with. native Coquibians—you see? Sadly as
I regret it, the oﬂicial inquiry into the affair
must come to an end this week.”
“ But I say !—I mean, it is a very serious
affair for us. Surely, your Excellency, the in-
quiry will not be totally abandoned?”
“It is ridiculous, indeed, almost culpable,
Mr Temporel; but What would you do? Ah! if
you knew of my difﬁculties with these half-bred
people, so small of mind, so narrow, so preju-
diced! They will never understand. I would
continue until success had been attained, but
my ministers think otherwise.”
“ I am sure your Excellency would pursue it
at any cost,” said poor Temporel earnestly.
“ But if the officials refuse to go on, I must.


A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL 63
I’ll spend my last farthing, but I shall see the
criminals in jail.”
“ Again, bravo,” said Don Luis, clapping his
hands gently. “ Could I assist you with funds
—privately, of course? ”
Temporel sat up, ﬂushing a little. “ Many
thanks, but I could not accept money from your
Excellency. I have some money in hand, and
shall use that.”
Don Luis bent over his plate to hide a smile
of gratiﬁed amusement. He had counted on
this answer. “ At least, you will let me help you
in some way,” he said. “ You will need a post.
In a month or two there will be a vacant one in
the ofﬁce of the Minister of Commerce.”
“ Oh! your Excellency—” Temporel began.
Don Luis held up an arresting hand. “ Not
a word, I beg you. But trust me; I shall see
to it. Now, again to the inquiry. You will be
wise to engage some native expert in tracing
men—I know of such a man, and will gladly
give you his name He was an Intendente
in the rurales here, dismissed for some slight
fault, years ago. He will not rejoin the
force.”
“ That is very good of you. I shall be pre-
pared to pay him one hundred pesos a month,


64 THE' MESH
but he must be absolutely at my disposal, night
or day.” _
“Bueno. He will be delighted. His name
is Pedro Barriga; his address, Calle Santander,
No. 9. I shall now give you some valuable
information which came into my hands only
yesterday. There is a man who lives, or used
to live in the town—a slight man with a
beard.” He looked hard at Temporel. “ He
is dumb. If you can secure him you will have
in your hands the head of the gang. He is a
dangerous criminal. Well, after dinner, I will
write a note to Barriga, which you may take to
him. I wish you good luck in your quest.”
Temporel thanked him warmly. Was it
really true that he had had the man in his hands
and had allowed him to slip through them? It
was evident that the man had not been shot
that night. But what audacity! To shelter
from the police in the very bank which he had
robbed! Temporel felt hot all over at the
thought of it.
Dinner over, Don Luis begged to be allowed
to write. He sat down at a little bureau in a
corner, took up a pen and wrote :—
“ BARRIGA,-—Y0u will place yourself at the
disposal of the senor Temporel, the English:


_ A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL 65
man. Do what he commands. You will re-
ceive a salary of one hundred pesos a month.
Seventy-ﬁve pesos must be rendered to me here
each month.
“ DON LUIs PARAJAL PESCATE.”
The President did not disdain small gains.
He sealed up the envelope in which he had
placed the letter, addressed it, and handed it to
Temporel.
“ I am greatly obliged to your Excellency.”
The President smiled. “ No es nada. It is
nothing. I wish you success. But, in all you
do, remember the dumb man. You will know
him. Slight, bearded, dumb.”


CHAPTER V
THE SPY
IF the tem'ente, now retired, recommended to
Temporel by his Excellency, and the Intendente
who commanded the rurales on the night of the
bank robbery, were not one and the same person,
it is certain that they were marvellously alike.
The resemblance was sufficiently striking to
have impressed those who had seen the Inten-
dente. Temporel, even, had some distant recol-
lection of having seen the man before, but not
with sufﬁcient deﬁniteness to carry conviction.
However, he visited the house in the calle
Santander, and engaged the former oﬂicer of
rurales at the ﬁgure he had named to Don
Luis.
Barriga seemed well pleased with the commis—
sion. He looked keen, alert, intelligent; and
indeed he enjoyed those excellent qualities in
conjunction with a very pretty taste in knavery


THE SPY 67
and the friendship of his Excellency, the Presi-
dent.
“ You think we shall be able to lay our hands
on those men?” Temporel asked rather an-
xiously, when they had talked the matter over.
Barriga tugged at his ﬁne moustache. “ But
yes, I believe so. The police here are foolish
fellows. They know nothing of the art of detec-
tion. If you show them a criminal, they can
apprehend him—beyond that, nothing.”
“ What about the slight man who is dumb?
Do you agree with his Excellency?”
Barriga knew his cues. “ Absolutely, seﬁor.
He is well known as a desperate man.”
Temporel reﬂected. He had not told the
President how he had sheltered the dumb man
from the pursuing rurales. Would it not be
advisable to mention the fact now? After all,
Barriga was his paid assistant. 50 he explained
how the man had come to him once at the bank,
omitting the details with regard to his own part
in the matter. Barriga’s eyes lighted up at this
intelligence.
“ Ah, what a lost chance! If you had only
seized him, we should have no more trouble.
But the superb audacity of the fellow! it makes
one smile to think of it. Seﬁor, I have a plan.


68 THE MESH
He may think that you do not know him in
his real person. You were kind to him. He
assisted to rob your bank once, he may again.
He will, perhaps, come to you, ask for shelter—
and then ”
“ Let him!” cried Temporel, with sparkling
eyes. “ I hope he will come. See, I am on the
telephone. If the dumb man comes to my house
I shall detain him on some pretext, and commu-
nicate with you.”
“ My house is not connected with the tele-
phone, but you could ring up the Chief of Police.
He would send men instantly. Of course, he
may not come again to you, senor, but I shall
look for him very thoroughly. Between us—
ah!”
“We shall do the trick,” said Temporel,
shaking his hand. “Good! get to work to-
morrow, and let me have a short report every
evening. If you want a small amount in
advance for expenses, I shall be glad to let you
have it.”
Barriga seemed to ponder. “ Twenty pesos
will be enough for the present,” he said slowly.
“I do not wish to waste money. Well, adios,
seﬁor. I shall report to-morrow.”
Temporel bade him good-bye and returned


70 THE MESH
him. He turned in his chair, waited, and won-
dered. What was it? It came again, a sharp
tinkle as if something thrown up from the street
below had rebounded from the glass. The
repetition of the sound threw Temporel into a
fever of excitement. His eyes shone with a dry,
hard light, his mouth contracted, the lips meeting
in a venomous line. Dropping his novel, he
passed to his bedroom, and fumbling in a drawer
produced a heavy revolver. He “broke” the
weapon, Slipped cartridges into the chambers,
and returned hurriedly to the sitting-room.
Again the sound was heard, and he darted out
of the room toward the stairway. There was no
one at the door, or in its immediate neighbour-
hood.
There was something strange about that. He
had thought at ﬁrst that the dumb man stood in
the street, and was throwing up pebbles to attract
his attention. The venetian blinds he had
imported were drawn, but the jalousies outside
were not closed across until the hour of retiring.
He went up the stairs quickly, and crossing the
sitting-room, began to draw up the blinds. They
were half-way up, when he uttered an exclama-
tion, and let slip the cord. The heavy blind
fell with a crash again, bruising his arm some—


72 THE MESH
“ So you have come again, have you? ” he said
huskily.
The man nodded, and began a rapid panto-
mime. He seemed uneasy, but anxious as
before to explain something to his companion.
Once he looked back swiftly at the blinds mask-
ing the window, as if he expeCted to see some-
one lift them and enter.
“ You come unexpectedly,” said Temporel,
choking down his anger. “ Still, I am glad to
see you—very glad. Will you excuse me for a
moment. I forgot some letters and left them in
my room.”
The man signed acquiescence. Temporel
left the room and went to the telephone below.
He rang up the Chief of Police, and waited for
an answering voice. It came at last.
“ Who is that? ”
“ Temporel—the English Bank! ” he said
quickly. “ The dumb man you are looking for
is here, in my room. Send your men. I can
hold him till they arrive.”
“Ah, good, excellent! Have you a pistol?
He may be armed.”
“ Yes, thanks. He does not suspect me.
Send quickly.”
Temporel replaced the receiver, and returned


THE SPY 73
to the sitting-room. The dumb man was stand-
ing near the window. He had ﬂattened one of
the blind slats, and was peering out into the dark-
ness. He turned quickly.
“ You are afraid of them—afraid of the
rurales? ” asked Temporel in a conversational
tone. He motioned the other to be seated, and
himself dropped into an easy chair. “ You
think they may come here? ”
The man nodded, keeping his right hand
hidden in his waistbelt. The manager watched
him closely. What a callous brute the fellow
was. NO nerves—absolutely none. He could
sit there, facing the man he had ruined, smiling
in a friendly way, asking mutely for protection
against the law—begging it of a man who re-
strained himself with difficulty from ﬂying at his
throat. Temporel thought of Cynthia, and his
mood grew blacker. He sat a little forward in
his chair, his legs crossed. The hard angle of
the pistol in his pocket pressed upon his thigh.
“You have been in the bank before?” he
asked. “ Eh?”
The man nodded once. His face was per-
plexed. He was searching in his mind for a
gesture which would express—explain. His
volatile pantomiming had conveyed nothing to


74 THE MESH
\
the Englishmen—what to do? His quick eyes
clouded with disappointment.
“ But I was not here then,” Temporel went
on, staring at him ﬁxedly. “ You had it all to
yourself.”
The dumb man shook his head, striving to
catch his meaning. He became suddenly ener-
getic, rose from his chair, advanced upon the
manager. Temporel thrust a hand into his
pocket, felt it grip upon his weapon, and waited
breathlessly. Had the fellow thrown off the
mask? Well, he could shoot him through
the pocket. The muzzle was turned outward;
the bullet would strike just above the groin.
He felt a sort of savage satisfaction in the
thought.
But the other made no menacing movement.
He touched Temporel with outstretched ﬁnger,
then pointed downwards to indicate the bank
oﬂices which lay beneath. He turned a little, and
indicated the distant plaza—a gesture which was
quite meaningless to Temporel. His persis-
tence irritated the other. Always this posturing
and shrugging and gesticulating. What did he
mean? He was as bad as a marionette. The
manager was listening. At any moment the
rurales might arrive. He strained his ears for


THE SPY 75
the slightest sound, smiling still, expectant, tense,
full of a sombre gratiﬁcation.
There came at last-the distant clatter of hoofs.
He rose from his chair, and moved it, hoping to
cover, by that grating noise, the sound of the
approaching men. But the dumb man was
listening too. He glanced at Temporel and
approached the window. The sound came
nearer, and he started into action. One hand
grasped the blind cord, and drew the blinds up
with a rushing sound ; the other went to the knife
in his belt. The manager no longer smiled.
His face was dark with passion, his lips tightly
set together. With a rapid movement he drew
his pistol and turned it upon the agitated man.
“ No, you don’t! It’s my turn now,” he said
loudly. “ I’ll shoot you down if you attempt to
escape. I’ve got you—d’ye hear? I’ve got
you! ”
The man wheeled upon him ; surprise, dismay,
perplexity, struggling in his white face. He
advanced a pace, but a sight of the levelled
revolver checked him. The clatter of hoofs was
in the street now. He threw out his hands with
a gesture of despair.
“Yes, keep your hands up. That’s right.
The moment they go towards your belt, things


76 THE MESH
are going to happen—understand? The rurales
are below to take you. It will do you no good to
struggle. We have the whip hand. You may
as well give in.”
The dumb man sank into a chair. It was as
if he realised the terrible, the utter futility of
endeavouring to explain. Dumb, he could not
express anything. The brutal irony of the thing
crushed him. He did not blame Temporel. He
knew. At this little play, the gods of laughter
must be holding shaking sides, indulging in
their Homeric mirth at the crass stupidity of mere
mortals. He had done his best, now he gave up.
The rurales were knocking at the door.
“ Come along,” said Temporel, taking his
reading-lamp in his left hand, “ we must go
down to them since the door is locked—but, one
moment—if you tell me where the money is, I
can let you off yet. You don’t deserve it, you
callous scoundrel, but for the sake of—of some-
one—quick, where did you hide the money? ”
The dumb man looked bitterly at him, and
Temporel saw his mistake. How could the man
tell him?
“ Come then. Walk before me.”
In this order they crossed the room and de-
scended the stairs. In the hall below, Temporel


THE SPY 77
placed the lamp on a bracket and fumbled for
his key. He found it rather diﬂicult to do this,
and keep his pistol upon the mark. Then the
door swung back and he saw Barriga’s face in the
stream of lamp-light; behind him the grinning
faces of four rurales. For an instant, he felt a
wave of pity.
“ Here he is,” he said shortly. “Take him
away, Barriga. No doubt you will discover the
names of his associates—but he is dumb! I
seem always to forget that. Never mind; you
may get him to point out their whereabouts.”
Barriga took the man by the shoulder; the
rurales closed round. “ Certainly, seﬁor, we
Shall ﬁnd out much. Leave him to us. We
shall take him immediately to the jail, and
in the morning I shall call upon you to
report.”
“Well, go quickly,” said the manager, wiping
his forehead. The dumb man was looking into
his face reproachfully, wearily. He must be a
consummate actor. Temporel was sick of the
business. Despite the facts, he felt that his
action savoured somewhat of treachery. He
had a thankless part to play.
“ Good night, then,” he said, half-turning in-
doors. “ Come in the morning. I am tired


78 THE MESH
now. You can inform his Excellency of what
has been done.”
“ Bueno,” said Barriga. “ But one word,
seﬁor. Do not speak of this outside. If this
fellow’s companions get wind of it, they will ﬂy
the country. If we keep silent, we may lay
hands on them—adios.”
“ Very good; again good night.”
The men marched off with their prisoner.
Temporel slammed the door and returned to the
sitting-room. His spirits began to rise, now that
the man had been taken away. After all, he had
secured the leader of the gang. Dumb as he was,
he might indicate by signs where the booty
was hidden, or the house of his confreres. It
was to be hoped that the fellows had not spent
the money; but that seemed unlikely. It is
difﬁcult for men to spend ten thousand pounds
without attracting attention, in Santa Malua.
The situation seemed distinctly hopeful. Until
his successor came out, he was master of the
situation, still manager of the bank. The direc-
tors were not unreasonable men—they were busi-
ness men. They had asked him to resign be-
cause the money had been stolen while he was in
charge; but if, by his own efforts, he caught the
thieves and recovered most of the money, well——


THE SPY 79
he smiled conﬁdently. It would be unfortunate
for the fellow who was now on his way from
England.
And Cynthia! How wise he had been not to
tell her! All Would go as before. Their hopes
were not blighted yet. By Jove! he could write
to her for the next mail ; tell her that he had had
a ﬁt of the blues when he wrote the last letter,
but all had come right now. Perhaps next
spring he would be able to send for her. He lay
back in his chair, smiling still, hopeful, almost
exultant. The President had saved him. What
a good soul that was ; and Barriga—smart man!
Worth a thousand pesos, not a poor hundred.
Barriga called upon him in the morning, and
was shown into his private room. The manager
thrust aside a mass of letters and papers and
bade him be seated.
“Well, you got him safely away? What
news? Do you think he will disclose anything
of importance? ”
Barriga looked doubtful. “ As you observed,
seﬁor, the man is dumb; that makes it difﬁcult
for us to queStion him. He expresses some-
thing with his hands, but what it means we can-
not understand. We gave him a paper and a
pencil but it appears that he cannot write. So,


80 THE MESH
at dawn, before the townspeople were awake, we
took him, under guard, into the city, and ordered
him to point out where his comrades lived. But
no, he would not. He shook his head; he was
obstinate.”
Temporel whistled. “ He doesn’t seem to be
much good to us then?”
“ Ah, well! at least we have secured the leader
of the gang.” .
“ Yes, of course. But I don’t care about that.
My directors will not ﬁnd any satisfaction in that
news. I want to recover the stolen money, and
the jewels. The Doﬁa Carboles was in with me
here the other day and kicking up a fuss. She
has drawn her account, and the bank has lost a
good customer. I want to lay hands on the
money.”
“ Naturally, but that will take time. How-
ever, the rogues will not dare to spend it while
we are watching. We have warned every shop-
keeper, and every fonda keeper in the town.
Oh! we shall catch them; that is certain. I
have a plan now.”
Temporel looked up. “ They may have left
Santa Malua—but your plan, what is that? ”
“ The dumb man has a daughter living in the
town. They had a small house in a street near


82 THE MESH
lady; never mind, show her in. I can give her
ten minutes.”
“ Certainly, seﬁor.”
“Wait! Did she give her name? ”
“ No, senor, she said you would not know it.
But she seemed very anxious to speak with you.”
“ All right, Marino.”
Temporel drew some papers towards him.
He was not much interested in this unknown
lady—yet.


CHAPTER VI
JUANNA
WHEN the lady was shown into his room, Tem-
porel understood his subordinate’s difﬁculty in
making an exact social valuation. From head
to foot, she was draped in a long, black mania,
which effectually concealed the style and quality
of her clothing. A lacy mantilla covered her
hair, and framed with soft suitableness a face
that was charmingly regular of feature. But she
did not walk with the mincing gait of the deli-
cately nurtured Spanish woman; she had, rather,
the gait of the peasant, easy, supple, and un-
constrained.
Temporel rose and offered her a chair, but she
refused to sit, and it was obvious from her man—
ner that she was much agitated, almost to the
verge of tears.
“ Seﬁor, ’ave you seen ’eem? ” she began
timidly. '
8s


JUANNA 85
The girl went white and took a step toward
him. It was evident that some painful emotion
was tearing at her heart. Then she stammered
out: “Someone told me that my father had
been here; but on your balcony, seﬁor, it is
impossible.”
“It is true. In the circumstances I had no
option but to send for the police.”
The girl uttered a sharp cry, and fell back
a little, her hand upraised in a gesture of horror.
“ The police! Oh, senor, you have been cruel!
He is dumb, and you—”
Temporel frowned. “In my place what
would you have done? This is a bank. Much
money was stolen here recently. No doubt you
have heard of it. But the matter goes further
than that.”
“ M adre santz'sima—how? ”
“ When the rurales came they told me that
your—that the dumb man had been concerned
in the robbery from this bank.”
The girl advanced and clutched him by the
arm. “Oh, that is not true! He would not
touch a peso belonging to anyone. He was
dumb, seﬁor, and harmless to all. What have
you done? ”
She was putting Temporel in the wrong, and


86 THE MESH
his nerves, lately sharpened to a knife edge,
prompted an irritable reply.
“ Nonsense! I tell you I found him on my
balcony last night, and the rurales recognised
him at once. Listen, seﬁorita, I do not wish to
hurt you. I speak the truth. A few days ago
—-the evening before last—he came to me for
protection from a rurale who was pursuing
him. At that time I did not know what he had
done. I let him in by my private door until
the man had passed, but what was I to think
when I found him yesterday outside the
window?” \
The girl looked at him thoughtfully. She
was weighing the matter, and realised that he
was speaking the truth.
“ Forgive me, seﬁor, I did not know. Ah!
it is a plot. Always the rurales! Once we had
a large ranch near Matamoro, the rurales
drove us from that; we went to Ichirota, and
purchased a pulperz'a, the rurales came again,
and we had to leave the place. My father
could say nothing—oh! it was sad, for he can-
not speak. But this, too, is the rurales—why
will not they leave us alone? ”
Temporel had a theory to account for this,
but he did not mention it, from motives of


88 THE' MESH
while in the greater world he was known as a
professional criminal.
“Can you not do something, seﬁor?” she
asked helplessly.
“ What? I am in a diﬂicult position. I owe
a duty to the bank. I cannot exercise clemency
since the stolen money did not belong to me.”
She ﬂushed up. “ But he did not steal it! ”
she cried. _
He bit his lip. “ Well, that has to be proved.
Where was your father on the night of the bank
robbery, seﬁorita—at home?”
She answered quite straightly. “ No, seﬁor,
he was not at home. I do not know where
he was.”
Temporel shrugged. “ You see ?—-—well, he
will stand his trial.”
She shook her head in indignant denial.
“ Seﬁor, there will be no trial. I know it. It
is that they have some spite against him—the
Government. He would never tell me, but I
know there is something. Here, many men are
put in prison, and of some of them we do not
hear of again.”
Temporel listened gravely. “ Senorita, I
will see that your father stands his trial.
Though he is charged with robbing the bank,


JUANNA 89
I shall see that the matter is thoroughly sifted.
Though I have not much doubt in my mind,
still, there must be no miscarriage of justice.
If the trial does not come on within a reasonable
time, I will speak to the President about it.”
She made a gesture of doubt and perplexity.
“ You are more than kind, seﬁor; you are just.
For me, I can do nothing. My voice would
not be heard. Ah! you are new to this place,
you do not understand, but I trust you.”
Temporel bowed. “Thank you. Try to
wait patiently. I will let you know how the
affair proceeds? What is your name and
address?”
“ Juanna Serrano, seﬁor. I live in the calle
de los Vapores, 5.”
“ Thank you. I will write if I have any
news. Now, seﬁorita, if you will excuse me, I
have some work to do—adios.”
As the girl passed out through the oﬂice,
Peters, the cashier, winked at Marino, who
looked back at him, smiling. “A bit of all
right,” he said softly. “Old Temporel knows
his way about—What? ”
“Certainly the seﬁor el administrador has
excellent taste,” said the clerk thoughtfully,
“ but for her to call here—E a ./ ”


90 THE MESH
Peters giggled. His elemental sense of
humour was tickled. This man was not subtle.
He appreciated broad effects, and coarse ﬂa-
vours, and he envied Temporel.
The latter rang up the ofﬁce of the Chief of
Police when the girl had left him. He asked
if Barriga could be found readily. By some
stroke of fortune it appeared that Barriga was
at that moment visiting the Chief. Temporel
could speak to him at once.
“ Seﬁor, you wish to speak to me? ” the voice
came over the wire.
“That you, Barriga—yes. You remember
we arranged a plan. You were to lodge, if pos-
sible, with the daughter of the dumb man—yes.
I want to countermand that. I intend to look
up that myself. You can proceed with the
other part of the investigation.”
“ But, seﬁor ”
“ You heard what I said? I’ve made up my
mind. By the way, when will the trial come
on?”
There was a pause. “In a month or two,
seﬁor. We do not wish to alarm the others, you
see. If they hear that the man has been taken
they will scatter at once.”
“I see. That seems sensible enough, and


JUANNA 91
we agreed to it. But there will be a trial, won’t
there? No ﬂim-ﬂam about it.”
“ But of course.”
“I’m English, you know,“ and want to see
justice done. Whatever the man may be usu-
ally, I am only concerned with him over the
robbery here.”
Barriga replied softly. “ Naturally. You
may rest assured that all will be done in proper
form. Wait, senor, and I will ask the Chief of
Police ”
There was a silence for a moment, then the
voice came again.
“ The trial is provisionally ﬁxed for the 29th
of next month.”
Temporel felt relieved. “ Right. That’s all
~—ring off.”


CHAPTER VII
CYNTHIA
CYNTHIA CARVEL was sitting in a canvas lounge
on the lawn, her eyes absently wandering over
the bright parterres of ﬂowers, one hand petu-
lantly tapping upon a letter which lay in her
lap.
The lazy sunlight of an English summer day
fell upon her dark hair, disclosing here and
there a dull russet glint, set its warm colouring
upon her charming face, gleamed on the silver
buckles ornamenting her dainty slippers. She
represented a lovable type, light-hearted,
amiable, laughter-loving ; capable, nevertheless,
of great passion and of steadfast devotion.
But she was irritated now; not at the writer
of the letter, only at the sorry scheme of things,
at the facility with which things go wrong at the
moment when we most wish them to go smoothly
and well. She loved Temporel. There was a
92


CYNTHIA 93
real tie between them. Their engagement was
not the meteoric result of a passing fancy, Of a
momentary fascination. Pompous as he had
been, she had seen through that and other minor
defects, the result of training and circumstances,
and had penetrated to the heart of the man.
She knew him, as it is given to few women to
know the man they love.
Temporel, on his part, loved her with a depth .
and sincerity which no one, who had only seen
his surface mood, could have believed. He
knew that when he was with her he was at his
best; when he had left her, he was conscious
of a desire to strive after higher ideals, to touch
a point that, without her, he would never have
hoped to attain. He had not seized that chance
of promotion so avidly as one would have ex-
pected. He loved her too deeply to contem-
plate with any keenness or pleasure the prospect
of an extended separation. It is easy to talk
lightly of the duties that love lays upon us; not
so easy to grasp that the performance of these
duties deals sad wounds to love.
Cynthia had just received the letter he had
written her after the robbery at the bank. She
could read between the lines, see even in his
most hopeful phrase into what mood of dejec-


94 THE MESH
tion and despondency he had fallen. It was all
plain to her. The hint that she should not count
too much on an early marriage, the contradic-
tory expressions of conﬁdence. Had he told
her the whole truth? He had mentioned
some small theft at the bank. If it were so
unimportant, why should he speak of it in his
letter?
She thought of her mother, a rather timid
and mild-spoken lady, until one ran counter to
her wishes. This, in connection with a sudden
thought which had come into her mind. John
Carvel, her uncle on the paternal side, was inter-
ested in South American securities. Some of
his holdings were Brazilian, some Buenos Ayres
tramways; but Cynthia remembered that he had
lately purchased a parcel of bonds of the repub-
lic of Coquibe. A week from to-day, he was to
leave for Rio, for a month’s visit; from there
he intended to travel to Buenos Ayres. He was
a shrewd man, and knew that it is not always
the best stock which shouts the loudest in the
European money markets. For some time, he
had been watching the Argentine. His pro-
phetic eye already perceived something. He
meant to make personal investigation.
With a daring and audacious thought,


CYNTHIA 95
Cynthia’s mind travelled to her uncle. She was
uneasy; Temporel’s letters had set her on edge.
If she could only see him again, speak to him,
give him new courage to front whatever might
come! John Carvel had always been kind. He
stood as a bulwark sometimes between her and
that timid lady, her mother. His bluff raillery
was hard to withstand, and Mrs Carvel retreated
before it without ceremony.
Now came a more difﬁcult question than she
had yet encountered. She had made up her
mind to ask John Carvel if he would take her
with him when he went to South America. But
what would her mother say? Could she be pre-
vailed upon to give her consent? Carvel was
leaving so soon; there would be little time to
talk her mother over. She would put every
possible impediment in the way. There was an
outﬁt to be procured, a berth to be booked—
and who knew but the ship might be full? It
would be ridiculous to think of leaving so
abruptly. Cynthia thought of the coming
struggle, and sighed.
Obviously the ﬁrst thing was to enlist the help
of her uncle. He was coming to dine with them
that night. She must have a talk with him be-
fore broaching the subject to her mother. With


96 THE MESH
that thought in her mind, she took up her letter,
and went across the lawn to the house.
At half-past six, John Carvel drove up in his
car. Mrs Carvel was in her own room lying
down before dinner. Cynthia hurried out to
the gravel sweep, and, intercepting her uncle,
ran her hand through his arm.
“ Well, Uncle, you got over all right. I’m
awfully glad to see you.”
“Are you? I believe you are, Cynthia,” he
said, smiling. “ You always say what you mean,
I know—yes, I got over all right, but your roads
are perfectly shocking. Some of your council
people must be in the Rubber Ring, my dear.
I say, where are you taking me? Is your
mother out of sorts?”
“ No, she’s all right, Uncle, and I’m not going
to lead you astray. I have something to say to
you, and I want you to come into the garden to
hear me say it.”
“ Not a recitation, I hope? ” said Carvel. “ I
like recitations after dinner, not before.”
“ No, it’s a secret,” said Cynthia, squeezing
his arm, and leading him to a little summer
house. “ A secret.”
“ So you begin by spreading it,” he laughed.
“ Well, out with it.”


CYNTHIA 97
She stood before him, a little ﬂushed, her lips
parted, an appealing look in her eyes. “ Uncle
john, I want to go to South America!”
He Started. “ This is very sudden, my dear.
Has Temporel fallen heir to a gold-mine—there!
I’m joking. When do you want to go and
why?”
“ Because I want to see him—and I want to
go at once please.”
“ Oh! do you? And what will your mother
say to that?”
“ Say? Oh! that I can’t go, and shan’t go.
Be a dear, Uncle john, and help me. She won’t
listen to me, but you can always persuade her."
“I don’t know that I persuade her exactly,”
said John Carvel. He thrust his hands in his
pockets, and laughed a little. “I get my way
because no ordinary mortal can listen to me for
more than half an hour. I am another impor-
tunate widow. However, Cynthia, I’ll do my
best for you. Of course, you know I’m leaving
next week? ”
She looked at him anxiously. “ Couldn’t you
put it off for a little while, Uncle. You know
how difﬁcult it will be to persuade mother—and
if I have only a week! ”
He shook his head. “I am sorry, but it is '
G


98 THE MESH
impossible. I have written advising my agent,
and my berth is taken. Leave it to me. Now
let’s go indoors, and to your mother.”
At dinner that night, Cynthia had the battle
of her life. Mrs Carvel was at ﬁrst surprised,
then obstinate, then angry. She had never in
her life heard of such an appalling suggestion.
It was madness, ﬂaring and pitiful. The idea
of a young girl going to South America to see
her lover struck her dumb with horror and
amazement.
“ But, my dear Sophie,” said John Carvel in
a ponderous voice, “ no one has ever sug-
gested that she is going there for the special
purpose of seeing her lover. Bless my soul! I
shall be most of the time in a place thousands of
miles from Santa Malua. I go ﬁrst to Rio, then
to Buenos Ayres. My dear good woman, get
a map of the country and look it up. Your
geographical sense has been atrophied. You
are talking as if that vast continent was built on
the lines of the Isle of Man, instead of being
as it is, a colossal space, a vast term incognito,
where a hundred miles is next door, and your
near relations may be ten days’ journey away.
Some people would think that an advantage, but
I don’t. You see what I’m driving at—eh? I


CYNTHIA 99
hope there’s no harm in asking my own niece to
take a trip with me. Of course there isn’t.“ I
quite agree with you. I wonder you haven’t
seen how peaky the girl’s been getting lately.
Even Mary noticed it, and she isn’t what you
would call observant. No, no, Sophie, I am
sure you will be glad to get Cynthia out of your
way for a little. You could come to us—eh?
Mary will be glad to have you while I’m
away.”
Mrs Carvel felt faint in face of this torrent of
speech. Besides, John Carvel’s place at Hind-
head was a delightful spot; the house large and
luxurious, the grounds beautifully kept.
“ My dear John ” she began—a faint
protest.
“ My dear Sophie, you had better see at once
about getting Cynthia’s outﬁt. Better go into
town to-morrow, and have it all over. I have
booked—er—I am going to book a berth for her,
and we can meet and have lunch together.”
“Are you visiting Coquibe, John?”
He skated rapidly over the thin ice.
“ Coquibe? How can I tell? I may be any-
where, and everywhere. Coquibe doesn’t inter-
est me much. It’s rather a one-horse show, I
think. But we were talking of Cynthia. The

828g14


100 THE MESH
voyage will do her a world of good. Well, that’s
settled. You meet me to-morrow at the ‘ Ritz ’
at half-past one. Very good. I’ll do my best
to meet you. You might call with Tenderley;
he knows the country to a miracle, and will be
glad to give you tips. Now, what do you say to
some music. You’ll be glad to hear I’m getting
more interested in the art. I haven’t heard
Cynthia sing for a month of Sundays. Come
along.”
So Cynthia sang to them with a new heart,
and Mrs Carvel went 'to sleep, as she always did.
She was so fond of all the arts that they sent her
into a sort of trance, she said. The trance in
question included gentle snoring, but it was
certainly deep enough to prove Mrs Carvel’s
statement. And presently Cynthia stopped,
and began to talk softly with her uncle, while
the lover of music still dreamed on.
“ Oh, Uncle, I am so glad—so glad. You are
a perfect dear ”
“A perfect bore, you mean,” said Carvel,
lighting a cigar, and surveying Cynthia with a
smile. “ I can persuade anyone by sheer weight
of words—dynamic verbosity, by Jove! ”
“Anyway, I am going. I shall see him in
two months at most. I am sure the poor boy


CYNTHIA 101
must be eating his heart out over there. I got
quite a miserable letter to-day.”
“ Lucky young dog! Why does he want to
write letters like that? ”
“ But he hasn’t got me as you know.”
There was a kindly gleam in Carvel’s eyes as
he replied, “Well, my dear, there’s something
in that; more than we Old fogeys will admit,
perhaps. Look at me, Cynthia! Sixty-ﬁve,
getting stout, married, Heaven only knows how
many years——and I am—yes, positively feeling
gloomy about leaving home.”
“ Poor uncle! ” said Cynthia.
The following day they met at the “ Ritz,"
and Cynthia was able to announce that they had.v
bought most of her outﬁt.
“Outﬁt?” said John Carvel, smiling at his
Sister-in-law, “ why don’t you call it a trousseau
and have done with it? ”
Actually Mrs Carvel smiled!


CHAPTER VIII
WAITING
A MONTH had passed, and still the inquiry into
the bank robbery had proved futile. Barriga
drew his salary, took his expenses, was here,
there, and everywhere, zealous, energetic, and
persistent. He brought a regular daily report
to Temporel: records of his doings, notes of
the people he'had met, and who seemed to him
to have some connection with the case. But
there was nothing deﬁnite, nothing which threw
any clear light upon the affair.
Always Barriga counselled patience. He
was ve I hopeful. They were getting a little
nearer,niie was narrowing the ﬁeld, he had
managed to clear some suspects of suspicion, to
entangle others in his plausible theories. Tem-
porel was sick at heart; each day meant sus-
pense, hateful andwearisome. The bright hopes
he had cherished began to fade. He felt now
‘102
’ \.
_\
r


WAITING 193
that he was only beating the air, thrashing dry
thistles. Every hour his successor came nearer.
Then he grew to hate Barriga; the fellow came
so often with his smooth reports, his futile and
ineffective theories, that Temporel looked upon
him with growing gloom, seeing in him a crea—
ture which preyed upon his vitals, upon his
brain. Always polite, yielding, tactful, he ﬁlled
Temporel with a sense of nausea as real as it
was inexplicable.
The fellow himself got to see that, but it
failed to disturb his placid and unruffled surface.
But such was his goodwill that he once sug-
gested that the inquiry'should be abandoned,
and by this drove Temporel to the other
extreme.
“ Give it up! ” cried the manager, striking the
desk with his hands. “ My Heavens, man! I’ll
never give it up. I’ll lose every farthing, I’ll
strip myself, but I’ll put my hands on them.”
His eyes blazed; his face was a mask of fury.
“ As you please, seﬁor,” said the other,
shrugging, “ but we have little time left, only a
few days.”
Temporel sprang up. “ Oh! you’re going to
give it up on your own account, are you? First
the police, then ”


104 THE MESH
“ Pardon,” Barriga interrupted, “I do not
do so. But the trial of that man, Serrano, will
take place in a few days.”
Temporel sank into his seat. He looked
savagely about him; the strain of the last month
had told upon him. His temper was short now,
his face was usually set in a frown. He was
not so careful of his dress—sure signs of a
certain deterioration.
“ It must be put off, d’ye hear? Those infer-
nal police are always getting in the way. You
go to the Chief and ask him about it.”
Barriga made a gesture. “ Seﬁor, it is not my
fault.”
“ Seﬁor, I do not care tuppence Whose fault
it is.”
“ Well, you know how the country is admin-
istered—bribes, always bribes. If you wish to
get anything done, you must always hold out
money in your palm. Even the Chief of
Police—”
Temporel sneered. “ Don’t I know? You’ve
done your part; I wonder how much of my
money has gone in bribes lately. Well, it
doesn’t count much anyway.” He took out a
cheque-book, and scribbled savagely. “I’m
beggared one way or another. Now get out!


WAITING 105
Don’t let me see you again, until you can tell
me that the trial has been postponed.”
“ Very good, senor—adios.”
When Barriga had gone, Temporel sank his
face in his hands. He sat there motionless,
thinking—thinking—Cynthia, the dumb man,
juanna, Barriga, always polite and zealous,
passed in procession through his tired brain;
smiling, imploring, pleading, suggesting. At
this rate his money would soon be gone. But
what did it all matter? All his hopes lay in the
inquiry, and that seemed more proﬁtless than
anything. In this welter of thought, the ﬁgure
of the President came up. He had promised
to secure him some post. Why not go to him
now and remind him of his promise? It was
close upon the time for shutting the bank.
Temporel got up and went to his rooms above.
On his way he turned in at the sitting-room, and
crossing to the sideboard, took up a decanter.
He was no tippler, this man; a short time ago
he hardly touched spirits. Now he ﬁlled a
liqueur glass to the brim with brandy, drained
it, and ﬁlled another. He looked at himself in
the mirror, and observed vacantly that he had
not shaved that morning.
He went up to his room and began to strop


WAITING 107
He descended leisurely to the study where
Temporel awaited him.
“ Well, seﬁor el administrador, how goes the
inquiry? And for yourself, you are well, eh? ”
“ Thanks, your Excellency. As for the in-
quiry, nothing has come of it so far. I came to
remind your Excellency of a promise.”
Had he known it, he could not have come to
his Excellency upon a more forlorn hope. It
is ill work reminding the great of past promises
—almost equal to reminding them of past debts.
“And that, my good friend?”
“ My successor will soon be here. If I can-
not recover the stolen money, I must go. A
month ago, your Excellency was kind enough
to promise me a post in the Ministry of Com-
merce. I am still in the service of the bank,
but I must make my arrangements.”
The President was sympathetic. “ I am
sorry, very sorry, seﬁor. I cannot think that
your directors have acted wisely. They are not
polite men. My Government has received from
them some rude letters. That, however, is
not your fault. I have always found you tact-
ful and discreet. As in this post, I fear we shall
have some difﬁculty. These local prejudices
are hard to overcome—we talked of that before.


108 THE MESH
I have spoken to the Minister of Commerce, but
had the greatest difﬁculty in making him see
eye to eye with me. Now, he is on our side, but
the battle is not yet won. There are old men
to be propitiated, young men to be talked out.
Assure yourself that I am doing my best.”
Temporel’s spirits sank. “ Then it is pos-
sible that I may not ”
“ Everything is possible in a country like this.
Do not build on it too much. I have power, but
even I am not omnipotent.” _
“ Your Excellency is very kind. I hear that
the trial of Serrano is to be postponed.”
The President’s face grew suddenly grave.
He looked down and seemed to ponder.
“ Seﬁor,” he said, at length, “ there will be no
trial. The man is dead. He committed sui-
cide in prison yesterday.”
Temporel gasped. “I never heard—this is
terrible! You are sure of it?”
“ Perfectly. It was an unfortunate occur-
rence. He was buried at once.”
Temporel thought of the man’s daughter. It
would be sad news for her. She had always
thought her father innocent.
“ I presume he diVulged nothing? ”
“ Nothing, seﬁor.”


WAITING 109
Temporel took up his hat. “I shall not
detain your Excellency. I have some work to
do. I shall be obliged if you will let me know
again regarding that post.”
“ Certainly. I am glad you called. My
memory is not good. Sometimes it needs to be
stirred up. Yes, I am glad you called.”
“ Then adios, your Excellency; I am very
grateful to you.”
As Temporel walked home, he was thinking
of juanna. Somehow he must let her know.
He did not care to break the news personally.
Reaching the bank, he went upstairs to fetch
the decanter. He placed it beside him at the
desk, and ﬁlled a small glass. Lifting the lid
of the desk, he took out paper and a pen. This
was a gloomy business to embody in a letter.
He drained the little glass, and holding the
decanter up to the light, gazed at the clear liquid.
He put it down again, and took up a pen. No
words would come. The little glass touched his
elbow; he ﬁlled it, and began to write.
The clerks were just putting away their work
when he came out to the general ofﬁce. He
called Marino to him, and handed over a letter
addressed to the seﬁorita juanna Serrano, Calle
de los Vapores, N0. 5.


110 THE MESH
“ You will oblige’me by taking this letter to
the house named,” he said as amiably as he
could, for he disliked the man, seeing how day
by day he drifted into a close friendship with the
vulgar Peters.
“ Certainly, seﬁor.”
“ Thank you. I am sorry to send you out of
your way, but it is impossible for me to visit the
place personally.”
Temporel turned away, and went up to his
rooms. The moment he had gone, Peters left
his desk, and came eagerly over to Marino.
“ One of the Governor’s billets-doux, eh?
Let me see it. I wonder if it is going to that
pretty girl who came in here one day. My word!
I believe it is. Oh! he is a sly old fox, Tem-
porel. You would hardly believe that the
fellow’s engaged to a girl at home, but he is.
Pious old fraud! I don’t believe he’s a whit
better than the rest of us.”
Marino laughed. “ As you say, ‘ a gay dog,’
is it not? Well, I must take it I suppose.”


CHAPTER IX
THE SUCCESSOR
ANOTHER month had passed, and still the
mystery remained unsolved. Temporel was
reckless now. His successor was due to arrive
in a few days; his cash balance had reached a
very low ebb, owing to the constant drain upon
it by the energetic Barriga. There was always
someone to bribe, some expense to be paid.
The Chief of Police had demanded a large sum
if he was to postpone the trial, and that sum had
been paid unwillingly. Temporel had an idea
that he ought to speak to the President about
it, but he did not wish to embitter their relations,
with the prospect of the Government post before
him. Of the latter he had heard nothing since.
Once he thought of going home, but that idea
was soon put aside. To go home, a broken and
disappointed man, with no money, few friends
to be reminded of what he had been, of what he
I r r


112 THE MESH
had lost; to be politely but inevitably blamed
for what had occurred. Never! He had tasted
the bitterness of defeat, but he did not intend to
return to be the mock of his enemies, and his
detractors. Cynthia would sympathise with him.
He knew that. But even her sympathy would
have been as gall to his wounded spirit.
The decanter was frequently on his desk now;
from it he drew a momentary inspiration, a frag-
mentary comfort. The clerks, in his absence,
looked at one another, lifted mocking little
ﬁngers in a pantomime of drinking. Peters,
imitating a man writing a letter between sips at
a glass, was received as a mimic of the highest
order. So far he looked little the worse. His
slight tendency to stoutness had gone, so that
he looked a younger man; his face retained its
pink freshness, but he took even less care of his
dress. He would appear in the bank unshaven,
his tie roughly arranged, his feet thrust into in-
sane carpet slippers, which ﬂopped absurdly as
he moved about the bank.
Now and then would come letters from
Cynthia—hopeful and loving letters, which made
him feel as if some hard thing was pressing on
his heart. The next day, he would be shaven,
spruce, clear-eyed, stern. He would sit down


THE SUCCESSOR 113
/
to write to her, at ﬁrst ﬁred with the idea of con- '
fessing his deterioration, and promising to front
his difﬁculties like a man. That would pass.
He would write the same vague expressions of
hopefulness, then he would halt and hesitate,
wonder what to say; end by going upstairs for
the decanter.
If he had gone back to England how would
he have supported himself? He would, in the
most favourable circumstances, have to begin
again at the lowest rung of the ladder. Any
bank would ask him where he had been last
occupied; why he had resigned. Then the truth
must come out—no damning truth from a moral
point of View. But money ranks high. It
stands above human life, human labour. It is
decidedly not trash from a legal standpoint.
Once he had visited juanna Serrano in the
calle de los Vapores. She was still mourning >
for her father, and at ﬁrst, in her grief, disposed
to number Temporel amongst her father’s be-
trayers. But his sympathy was so sincere and
open, that she was easily convinced Of the
blameless part he had played. She had written
an appeal to his Excellency, the President, and
had been answered by a letter from the secretary,
expressing sympathy, but pointing out that her
H


114 THE MESH
father had inferentially condemned himself by
committing suicide before his trial. Juanna
had a small yearly income, to which she had
fallen heir on her father’s death, and of late she
had paid an old woman to live in the house as
a species of duenna, for scandalous tongues
wagged freely in the little streets near the port.
Temporel felt sorry for her. They had both
experienced misfortune. Both looked to the
future with inconﬁdence and despair.
Then came the day when Temporel’s succes-
sor arrived. That morning Temporel had been
drinking. He bullied Peters, swore volubly at
the clerks—and he was normally a clean-lipped
man; he was working himself into a ﬁt of rage.
Chagrin, disappointment, the fumes of the liquor
had mounted to his brain.
Hardacre, his successor, was the beau-ideal
of a bank manager. Despite the fact that he
was now on tropical soil, he alighted from the
train frock-coated, silk-batted, wearing patent
boots with grey suéde spats. He carried a small
black bag in his hand. . From the station he was
driven direct to the bank.
Approaching the cashier, he announced him-
self calmly, casting an appraising eye about him,
noting, for future reference, the slovenly appear-


THE SUCCESSOR 115
ance of some of the Spanish clerks. The three
Englishmen who made up the staff, he observed
with partial approval.
“ Mr Temporel is in, I suppose?” he said in
a clear and rather musical voice. “I should
like to see him.”
Peters got up from his seat. “ How do you
do, sir. Yes, Mr Temporel is in. Will you
come this way.” He held a hand to his lips.
“ Just about time you came, sir. He ”
Hardacre drew himself up. This man must
’ go, as soon as possible.
“I beg that you will not address to me any
observations reﬂecting on the conduct or person

of your manager,” he said coldly. “ You under-
stand that. Good; now show me in to Mr
Temporel.”
Peters restrained his anger with an effort.
He was putting on side very early, he thought.
“ Very good, sir—I beg your pardon,” he said,
leading the way to the private ofﬁce.
Hardacre was coldly conscious of his air of
familiarity. Was Temporel a man of the same
kidney? he wondered. The sight of the latter's
ofﬁce conﬁrmed him in that view. It was untidy,
littered with papers, extinct cigar ends; a decan-
ter stood at the manager’s elbow.


116 THE MESH
Temporel got up slowly from his seat, his
face ﬂushed, his speech unsteady.
“ My name is Hardacre,” said the new—comer,
wondering if he ought to shake hands. “As
you are aware, I have been appointed to the
managership of the bank. I am sorry.”
Temporel pointed a ﬁnger at Peters, who was
lingering, interested, in the background. “ Hi!
you dirty spy, get out of this. Get out!”
Peters vanished. Hardacre raised his eye—
brows. Temporel turned to him with a foolish
smile.
“You’re Hardacre, eh? All right. I’ve no
objection in the world. Have a dring, old man,
Hardacre? ” He balanced the decanter in his
ﬁngers. “Why not? Needn’t be uppish with
an old pal. What d’ye want here anyway?”
Hardacre strove to conceal his disgust. He
hated scenes, as he hated untidiness, and that
was with his whole soul. “ I have been
appointed manager here, Mr Temporel,” he said
slowly. “ No doubt you have heard from the
directors to that effect?”
Temporel sat down and poured himself out a
glass of spirits. “ All right, but what—what are
you going to manage?”
“ This bank, Mr Temporel.”


THE SUCCESSOR 117
The other laughed. “ Now, that’s funny.
That’s qui’ good. ’Pon my soul, qui—quite
good. Two managers with but a single bang
—thought, two hearts that beat as ” He
gulped, and went on, “What you doing here,
sir? ”
Hardacre looked about him. He was at a
loss how to proceed. Here was a nice state of
affairs. “I have come from England to take
charge. If you will let me have the keys, I
can see the run of things.”
Temporel opened a drawer, and producing
a bunch of keys, handed them to his successor.
Hardacre took them. “ Thank you,” he said.
The other rose slowly. “ Look here, my ﬁne
fellow, seems to me you’re one of those sharks
busy taking bread out of mouths widows a’
orphans. See? That’s what you are. Shark!
See? I am going to have ’nother dring, and
then look at you. I don’t like those things
you’re wearing on your feet. Gloves, I call
them. Silly kid’s gloves. Man of your age——
to know better.”
“ Had you not better go up to your rooms,
and have a rest? ” said Hardacre, as politely as
he could. “ I feel sure you’re not quite ﬁt. The
heat is great here.”


118 THE MESH
“ Heat? I tell you what it is, Hardacre, a
man who calls himself gentleman, wearing gloves
on his feet, should be a gene’lm. This is my
place here—get my living by it anyway. Now
you come along, take my keys, thing your going
put on frills with me. Well, you’re not! No,
confound you! I’ve good mind to give you best
thra-thrashing you ever ha ”
“ That is quite enough,” said Hardacre, white
with anger. “I am manager now, and you
will oblige me by going to your rooms. They
are yours until you can arrange for another
residence.”
A white fury took possession of the unfor-
tunate Temporel. This insolent fellow was
actually ordering him to his rooms. A little
white man, with gloves on his feet, ordering him.
He advanced With a scowling face upon the
other.
“ Say that again, you—you shark! I—by
jove! I’ll break you in half. Ta’ my place,
would you, and leave me on the street, would
you? I think I’ll teach you speak civilly to
manager of bank. You’re ’nother spy, like
Peters—call him in now. I’ll smash you both
at one blow. You call him in.”
Hardacre was not lacking in courage. He


THE SUCCESSOR 119
thought, too, that Temporel hardly realised what
he was saying. “ Come, pull yourself together.
A good sleep will do you all the good in the
world.” He put a hand on the other’s arm.
Temporel shook it off ﬁercely. “ Leggo! I
don’t want you——you or Peters. ,You touch me
again, and I’ll—I’ll ”
He walked the length of the ofﬁce, and, stop-
ping suddenly, ﬂung off his coat, and began to
turn up his sleeves, his eyes ﬁxed savagely upon
Hardacre.
The latter’s eyes fell upon the bell-push on
the desk. He walked up to it, and pressed it
quickly.
Temporel saw the action, and gave a cry of
rage. He ran full at the other, missed him by
inches with a swinging ﬁst, and staggered across
the ﬂoor. But he recovered himself with won-
derful quickness, and came back.
Hardacre tried to evade him, but only par-
tially succeeded. Temporel’s ﬁst struck him at
the side of the neck, and he fell with a thud to
the ﬂoor. As Marino and Peters rushed in, he
was still there, while Temporel stood above him,
staring at him with an expression of stupid
amazement.
“ Hold him, he’s mad! ” cried the fallen man.


120 THE MESH
Peters and Marino rushed in simultaneously,
and grasped their former chief. But he made
no struggle, did not even attempt to evade them.
He stood there, trembling and staring.
Hardacre rose, and began to dust himself.
“ Oblige me by seeing Mr Temporel to his
room,” he said, in his cold, gentlemanly voice.
“ And remember—not a word of this outside,
I shall speak to him when he is sober.”
Temporel went away quietly. Mounting the
stairs he shook off his companions, and went un-
steadily to his bedroom. They did not follow
him; but from where they stood, amused and
exultant, they could hear the grating of the key
in the lock.


CHAPTER X
ON THE SLOPE
SAVAGELY sober now, Temporel went about his
rooms packing, selecting, discarding little per—
sonal belongings. His clothes were already
packed. When he ﬁnished, he stared at him-
self in the glass, and made a grimace of reckless
ill-humour, not unmixed with faint self-disgust.
He went to his sitting-room, and seating him-
self at the table, felt in his pocket for his cheque-
book.
He fumbled at it for a moment, opened it and
laid it ﬂat on the table. Out of the year’s
salary which had been cabled to him, there only
remained the miserable sum of thirty pounds.
The rest had gone, where he did not know. It
had seemed to slip through his hands like water,
to be untraceable as that; Barriga had the bulk
of it, or at least the dispensing. The others—-
ofﬁcials, the Chief of Police, discreditable spies,
>121


ON THE- SLOPE 123
working on that case for a long time, and
nothing has come of it. Now I have decided to
give it up.”
Barriga was still courteous. “What you say
is in part true, senor. But what would you?
I did my poor best. It was very difﬁcult to
proceed at all.”
“ You feathered your nest fairly.”
“ Seﬁor, you wrong me. The purse was in
your hands. I could not obtain a centavo with-
out your will. I am sorry that nothing has come
of it. But, let the seﬁor always remember that
I' am ever at his disposal, night or day.”
Temporel smiled bitterly. “ I shall not
require you again,” he said shortly, and turned
to the door. Barriga showed him out, and bade
him “adios ” in a tone at once respectful and
friendly.
Temporel returned to the hotel he had chosen
with a sense of absolute irresponsibility. He
seemed to be cut off from his kind, from the
daily interests which had made up his life, from
everything which tied him to the stable world.
Even Cynthia seemed to have faded out of his
mind. She was somewhat abstract now, an
ideal, a dream, something he had once hoped
for, longed for, at length had become unattain-


124 THE MESH
able. The world had become grey and dull;
and under that weight of ennui he felt a sudden
ﬁerce craving for excitement, or for absolute
and complete torpor—extremes which meet in
his and similar cases. What did anything
matter? That summed up, crystallised in one
acrid phrase, his philosophy at the moment. He
was down. He never could get up again.
There was a ﬁerce joy in climbing; might there
not be a more insane and obsessing delight in
adding force to speed, in increasing the impetus
of a swift glide down the slope?
He was a moral man by temperament and
training. At the lowest point he touched, he
never became a libertine. Whatever he might
think of himself, his ideals as regarded women
stood high. He saw in most of them the daily
realisation of those ideas and hopes which came
to him in his sober moments. Now he went
down to the bar of the hotel, “ American Bar”
as the proprietor had labelled it, having secured
the services of a half-bred Yankee with a genius
for cocktails. This man’s speciality was
christened “ The Paradise for a Peso.”
Temporel ordered one, and looked about
him dully. The place was pretty full at the
moment. A motley gang—Spanish, somewhat


ON THE SLOPE 125
staled, Portuguese, mestizos, some Scandina—
vians, and an odd Englishman and American
made up the crowd. They were talking in four
languages, and making a considerable noise.
They took things lightly, and seemed to enjoy
themselves. Temporel regarded them soberly.
He ﬁnished his cocktail, and ordered some
spirits, ﬁnished his glass, and, looking at his
watch, saw that it was now six o’clock. A thin
washed-out-looking man in a corner watched
him closely, his eye falling upon the valuable
watch Temporel drew out.
The latter seized a chair and sat down at a
little table. He felt SOmewhat stupid; his head
ached. The thin man approached, and greeted
him politely. o
“ The senor is English? He will drink some
wine with me, eh? I have great affection for
the English, for they were ver’ kind to me when
I visit the country.”
“I never drink wine,” said Temporel, in an
absent voice. He barely lifted his eyes to the
man’s face as he spoke.
“ Then, perhaps, you will do me the honour
to have of the visky? One procures it here
readily.”
“ All right,” said Temporel stupidly. He


ON THE SLOPE 127
he must go somewhere into the open air. The
air of this place seemed stiﬂing; the walls had
an odd way of dwindling and receding until he
seemed to see over and past them to a dim
amorphous gulf beyond. His companion too
had grown taller and seemed to be looking down
upon him from an immense height. He was
ridiculously amused by the foreshortening of
the face looked at from this angle. It was
apparently as thin as a tape, thin and white,
disappearing into an elongated mass of hair
that towered high above.
He went to sleep suddenly, with his head
on his arms which sprawled across the table.
The American half-breed saw him, and raised
knowing eyebrows; he glanced at the thin man,
and said something in a low voice.
“Locoed, sure. But I’m laying for you,
Saldor; don’t you get up to any tricks with him
in my bar, or you’ll have to beat it mighty
quick, see?”
The thin man snarled at him, but remembered
the warning.
It was near the hour of darkness when
Temporel awoke. The bar was still crowded;
his companion, ﬂanked by the absurd High~
lander, was at the other side of the table. He


128 THE MESH
awakened in the ﬁrm conviction that he had an
appointment to see juanna Serrano, and forth-
with announced the fact.
“ You know where she lives?” asked the
other.
“Know? of course I know. Calle de los
Vapores, near the port. I’ll just have one more
little dring, then go.”
O’Durrigan’s Best Scot gurgled once more
into a glass. Temporel rose unsteadily; the bar
tender made one more good-natured attempt.
“ Say, boss, you leave your ticker with me.
It’ll be safer. There’s a heap of fellows steering
buncos around, and I reckon they might hanker
after the time.”
Temporel gave him a look which was meant
to be digniﬁed. “ I shall do nothing of the sort,
my good man,” he said loudly. “I absolutely
refuse to do anything of the sort.”
“ Have it your own tin-pot way,” said the
bar tender, and turned again to his glasses.
Temporel steered a tortuous way to the door,
followed by the thin man. To him he conﬁded
‘his disgust at the American’s base attempt to
rob him of his watch. His companion agreed
that it was disgraceful, and politely offered to
guide Temporel to the very door he wanted.


ON THE SLOPE 129
The lattér thanked him, smiled fatuously, and
took his arm.
They crossed the plaza in this fashion, entered
the calle Matado, and boarded an electric car
which ran to the port. Later, they alighted, as
darkness fell, and threaded a maze of small
streets until they came to the calle de los
Vapores. Here they debated over the precise
number. Temporel was certain it was No. 63,
and supported his contention by loud argument.
He was rather in a pugnacious mood. His
companion said that the number was 16.
“ Tell you wha’,” said Temporel. “ Ish one
number or other. You knock one door, and I
knock other all way?”
His companion assented. It was difficult to
see the numbers in the gloom, which was only
illuminated by two miserable lamps. Temporel
advanced to a door, and prepared to knock.
The thin man went to the door behind him,
but did not knock He felt under his poncho,
and crept with cat-like steps towards the other.
As Temporel raised his hand to knock, the
thin man sand-bagged him from behind, not a-
crashing blow, but sufficient to knock him out
of time. Temporel threw out his hands, whirled
half-round, and fell with a groan.
I


130 THE MESH
The other man stooped swiftly, felt in his
waistcoat pockets, and secured his watch and
chain. Then he went through his other pockets,
but found nothing better than a few pesos and
a bundle of old letters. He looked once up
and down the street. Under a farther lamp-
post a man in a poncho was advancing slowly.
The thin man put away his sand-bag, and
turning went the other way. He boarded the
tram-car some distance off, left it in the Gran’
Plaza, and walked quickly away.
Temporel lay quite still. Fortunately for
him, the fellow had not been quite merciless.
He was an expert at the game, and knew how
to fell his man without doing irretrievable
damage. But the blow and the liquor he had
taken together robbed Temporel of his senses.
Nothing worried him now. He had found the
sleep he had been seeking—a thoughtless,
heavy sleep, with conscience, sensation, and
regret drugged into senseless vacancy. He lay
so quiet in the shadows that the man in the
poncho passed him within a few paces.


CHAPTER XI
THE SAMARITAN
WHEN Temporel recovered consciousness he
was lying in a strange bed, in an unfamiliar
room. At the moment of his awakening he had
no pressing desire to move or rise. He felt as
if his body had become unduly heavy, as if his
limbs had lost their normal power. Then some-
thing pressed upon his head; not painfully,
he thought, but like a detaining hand. He lay
still for some time, staring up at a low and some-
what discoloured ceiling, not following any
particular train of thought, but wandering rather
in twilight between vague horizons.
Suddenly a cool, appeasing hand was laid on
his forehead. The gentle downward pressure
seemed by some magical power to lift from his
head that detaining force. But he did not lift
his eyes at all to see who it was had approached
him. He had let the lids fall, and through them
131


132 THE MESH
saw the outer light as a vibrating veil of orange,
ever shifting. He was sure now. She had come
to him at last. Through many trials he had
attained to her. He lay quite still, breathing
one word softly.
A woman’s ear caught that word, and read in
it, strange as it was to her, another woman’s
name. A soft sigh, sympathetic and moved,
ﬂuttered to Temporel’s ear. It soothed him
somehow. It made him more content to lie
there, comforted by her presence, soothed by
the reassuring coolness of that appeasing hand
which lay so light on his forehead.
His mind strayed to England, and the past.
Thrown against that vibrating background of
orange light moved strange pictures, and scenes
that thrilled him indeﬁnably. Cynthia in a boat;
trees overhead, green feathery foliage, rippling
water. Cynthia on the lawn; her cool summer
muslin a note of white in a welter of warm hues,
against the dazzling gaiety of ﬂower parterres,
with the farther lilacs shimmering in splendid
sunlight. A cool, shaded room with Cynthia;
furtive darts of sunlight stabbing between the
slats of the Venetian blinds. He opened his eyes
suddenly, and was dazed by the yellow glow all
about him.


TI—IE SAMARITAN 133
“ Cynthia,” he said again.
“ Ah! senor, it is I.”
The disappointment was a blow. He
shivered under it, and felt anew the heavy para-
lysis of limb and brain. The hand was lifted.
“ You are better?” said a soft voice in
Spanish. “ I thought at ﬁrst that you were dead.
I found you in the street, and you lay quite still.
But then I found that your heart was moving.
After all you are not in danger, for the doctor
who was here told me that you were safe if you
came to consciousness very soon—he said it
might be some days, and then I might tremble
for you.”
Something of the purport of her words ﬁltered
slowly to Temporel’s brain. But why had he
come back to life. Cynthia had not come to
him after all. How peacefully he could have
slept on, there upon the pavement. Nothing
had disturbed him. The woman should have
left him there, never to awaken to the torture
of returning thought, the eternal anguish of
memory. Piece by piece he reconstructed
what had passed. He had been a beast, a brute.
He had descended, fallen. What dormant,
bestial instincts had awakened in him? Struck
down drunk, lying in the gutter like an‘unweh


134 THE MESH
come dog one kicks into the streets! He seemed
to see himself slipping down and down, Cyn—
thia from somewhere far off looking at him,
with a look of pity, of helplessand inﬁnite amaze-
ment, receding as she looked, fading out pres-
ently altogether. What did it matter if he had
been drunk? What did anything matter? He
was going to get well again, to be saved that he
might in full mental vigour suffer all the pangs
of memory, and complete the wreck he had
made of his Career.
As he thought more clearly he had no illusions
on this point. He had only made a beginning;
soon he would make an end. Every day it
would be the same. He was going to drink
hard while his money and his strength lasted.
What else was there to do? Surely nothing.
The woman had expected no answer to her
question. Again she laid her hand on his fore-
head, and this time bent forward that she might
look into his face. He was conscious of her
nearer approach, and opening his eyes fully,
looked into the pale face of juanna Serrano.
“ Gmcias, gracias, seﬁorita,” he said faintly,
“I did not know your voice; am I in your
house?”
“ Yes, it is my house, seﬁor. Someone had _


THE SAMARITAN I 3 5
struck you down in the street, but the neigh-
bours would not take you in, because they feared
it might be said that they were concerned.”
How hard it was to smile gratitude now!
“ You were kind.”
“ Senor, it is not kindness to help those in
trouble, it is a duty—” She paused, and went
On with some hesitation. “ Forgive me, but in
this climate, seﬁor, spirits mount to the head,
and there are so many robbers ”
“ You think to reform me, seﬁorita,” he said,
smiling bitterly. “ There is only one woman
who can do that, and she—I suppose she never
will.”
“ But for that woman’s sake,” she pleaded;
“ I, too, am a woman, so let me speak for her.
You are in trouble and that is why ”
“In trouble? Oh, no, I am merely ruined.
Someone is always being ruined, and it does not
matter; I’ve got to live my life out—it must be
short.” _ >
She moved away from him, and the sound of
her footsteps was agitated. The tone in which
he spoke moved her profoundly. She clenched
her hands, looking at him covertly over her
shoulder. He was staring up at the discoloured
ceiling, and smiling calmly.


136 THE MESH
“ Well,” she said, returning to his side, “ you
must not talk any more now; you must rest.”
His lips twitched.
“I have something here for you,” she went
on; “ you will take it—no? ”
“ Give it to me! ” he said. “ I am going to
get better—to get worse—give it to me.”
She raised his hand, and put a glass to his
lips. The liquid had a slightly bitter taste,
but he drank it willingly, and soon fell into
sleep.
Juanna watched by him for an hour, her face
anxious and thoughtful. This artiﬁcially pro-
duced slumber almost frightened her. It
seemed as if he had died on her hands. His
face was so composed, so immobile. But pres—
ently she became more conﬁdent, seeing in his
quietness a promise of recovery. When she at
last left his side, her place was taken by the old
woman who lived with her.
A week later saw Temporel almost himself
again. He was a little thinner and paler, but
able to walk, sleep, and eat, as before. He had
kept to the house since his injury. With re-
turning strength, came the thought of the future.
He had left his money in his bag at the hotel in
the plaza, and sent Juanna to fetch it, instruct-


THE SAMARITAN 137
ing her to pay a week’s rent for the room he had
taken there. He proposed to the girl that she
Should let him a room in her house, and she, after
much doubtful cogitation, had agreed.
With some measure of hope he wrote a letter
to the President in these terms :—
“ YOUR EXCELLENCY,—Sincerely regretting
the necessity, I take the liberty of reminding you
of your promise to assist me. I have left the
service of the bank, and my funds are at a low
ebb. Knowing by experience you Excellency’s
kindness, I feel assured that I do not ask in vain.
A note informing me of the possibility of an
early vacancy in the offices of the Minister of
Commerce will be welcomed by your Excel-
lency’s grateful and obedient servant,
“ CHARLES TEMPOREL.”
This letter, written after much thought, he
handed to juanna, and begged her to see that it
was delivered at the President’s palacio. As the
hours passed on that day, and the day following,
Temporel’s hopes rose. The President was
considering it; he was using his inﬂuence to
move the phlegmatic Minister. After all, he,
Temporel, was a useful man. He was strictly
honest, which could not be said of the average


138 THE MESH
Coquibian Civil Servant; he understood ﬁnance,
he was zealous, hard-working, and intelligent.
“ It will be well with you, seﬁor,” Juanna said
to him, as he told her of his hopes. “ Yes, these
posts are valuable. See, there is the seﬁor
Pasquil—he is in the ofﬁce of the Minister of
Mines—yet he has a large house in the calle
Felice, and entertains. Assuredly he is well
paid.”
“ jove! I suppose he is,” said Temporel, una-
ware that Pasquil levied covert toll upon every
concession hunter who crossed the threshold of
his ofﬁce. The man would have been even
richer, but for that old-established custom, un-
written, but well understood, by which his Ex-
cellency, the President, received a large share
of the gains made by his subordinates. “ He
seems well-to-do.”
“ Do you expect to hear soon? ” asked Juanna.
“ Me, I do not put much faith in this Govern-
ment. They killed my father ”
Temporel did not take up that subject. “I
might hear any day. I can only speak for my—
self, of course. I found his Excellency more
than kind.”
juanna shrugged. “Well, senor, I trust it
will come as you wish.”


THE SAMARITAN 139
Three days had passed before the reply came
to Temporel’s letter.
It was brought by an under-secretary, and
sealed with the President’s private seal. Juanna
received it from the man’s hands, and ran with
it into the house.
“ Seﬁor, seﬁor,” she cried, “it has come! ”
Temporel sprang up from where he was sit-
ting, and took the letter from her hands. He
trembled in every limb. A sick feeling swept
over him, a sensation of absolute emptiness born
of mingled fear and hope.
Juanna trembled too. She felt for him in-
tensely. She could see his state of distress. She
moved a little away from him, and averted her
eyes as she saw him turn the envelope over and
over in his hands, before he ventured to break
the seal. ’
Then he straightened out the paper, and read.
As he went on, the sheet trembled like a leaf in
the wind. His lips parted, showing his white
teeth set like a trap. His face was putty-
coloured now, and his eyelids ﬂickered continu-
ally. Finished, he thrust the letter towards
Juanna, and sank into a seat at the table. She
gave him one glance full of compassion, and let
her eyes fall upon the clearly written script.


140 THE MESH
“ MY DEAR SENOR,—-—It was with deep regret
that I received your letter. This, because cir-
cumstances beyond my control compel me to
reply that you must abandon hope of securing
the ofﬁce I promised to assist you to. At the
last minute, the Minister of Commerce informs
me that, in view of the feelings aroused locally
by the rumour that a foreigner was to be em-
ployed by my Government, it would be highly
unwise to recommend you for the post. He
added what I convey to you with the profoun-
desf regret, that the tongues of scandal had
been busy, and that it was hinted you were
entering upon a career of dissipation. This
I cannot believe. It is, no doubt, a canard
put about by your enemies. But you will
see that I have often to bow to ignorant
prejudices. Republicanism means com-
promise.
“I fear that this ban will lie upon you eVen
in the future. A new national spirit is spring
ing up; misbegotten perhaps, but veritably
alive.
“Assure yourself of my continued esteem;
accept my sympathy, and believe me, your
sincere well-wisher,
“ LUIS PARAJAL PESCATE.”


THE SAMARITAN I41
“ But what does it mean? ” cried Juanna.
Temporel gave a great shout of laughter.
“ Mean? You ask what it means? I’m a scoun-
drel, a drunken scoundrel, unﬁt to associate with
the pure, the true, the noble, and sublime citizens
of Coquibe! No man must touch me. I may
deﬁle the unsmirched character with my pitch-
like hands——-” He rose and went blindly to_
wards the door. Juanna ran to him and seized
his arm.
“ Where are you going, senor? ”
He laughed again. “ Anywhere—nowhere.”
She held him. “ Do not go, seﬁor. Per—

haps ”
“ Perhaps and perhaps,” he mocked, releasing
his arm from her clinging ﬁngers. “ I’ve wasted
my time here. I might have been drinking;
turning myself into a sot. Oh, they shall have
cause to know that it is no canard—by jove!
they shall.”
Juanna put herself between him and the door.
“ Senor, dear seﬁor, do not go. I ask you——
I ask you for your Cynthia ”
The name seemed to madden him. He spun
about, and made to go out. Iuanna’s face
blanched, but she held her ground.
“ No—no! ”


142 THE MESH
He pushed past her, his face set savagely.
At last she gave way. She made no further
protest.
Temporel passed out of the doorway, and, so
to the street.


CHAPTER XII
THE TRAGICAL VISIT
THE journey to Rio was quite uneventful. Cyn-
thia Carvel and her uncle, John Carvel, of course
enjoyed the usual amenities of life on an ocean-
going liner, but found in them nothing to chron-
icle of especial interest.
Cynthia enjoyed, perhaps most, the sunsets at
sea, and the sunrises, when a ﬂaming sphere
sprang up into the horizon, and set the saffron
heavens aﬁre. But her heart was rushing far-
ther aﬁeld, pulling with love and longing out
towards the place of sunsetting.
At Rio, John Carvel busied himself with his
ﬁnancial affairs, and found scant time for sight-
seeing. A lady who had crossed with them in
the liner was staying at the same hotel, and to
her he conﬁded his neice. What there was to
be seen Cynthia saw, but Rio Janeiro was only
the ﬁrst stage on the way to Temporel, and the
143


THE TRAGICAL VISIT I45
ish grandee called Don Luis Pescate. It’s al—
ways as well when you’ve to go to these out-of-
the-way places. Keeps you from trouble with
inquisitive police, and SO on.”
“ Charles might have done that for us,” said
Cynthia wisely.
“ My dear girl, you seem to imagine that your
young man owns the republic! NO, I’m teasing.
You shall see your Charles while I hobnob
with his Excellency, and spy out the land
generally.”
“ And we can really start to—morrow? ”
“Certainly, my dear. There’s a boat start-
ing in the afternoo
, and I got berths as I came
back. So see that your things are packed. You
won’t need your very swell things, for Temporel
will not be at the port to meet you. I am glad
you brought some evening dresses, for I expect
Don Luis will entertain us. From what I hear
he’s a personable man, not more than forty-ﬁve,
and rather distinguished in appearance.”
Cynthia laughed, and pinched his arm. “ As
I am not going to fascinate him, Uncle, it doesn’t
seem to matter much,” she said.
A week later and they were in sight of the bay
of Santa Malua, and the busy port which stands
near the southern end of the land curve. Then
x
1.


146 THE MESH
they could see the smoke of the port and the
town beyond, then low grim buildings of the fort
at Puerto Pelos, the waste of grey sand that
swept northwards hanging upon the skirts of
the sea. Presently they were moored alongside
the wharf, and there began the usual search
among baggage, for articles which Coquibe con-
sidered ought to assist the national revenues.
That over, john Carvel hired a Victoria, and they
were driven away to their hotel in the Gran’
Plaza, opposite the residence of the President.
On the following morning, they went across the
great square to present the letter of introduction.
They were shown almost immediately into the
presence of his Excellency.
The great man looked closely at Cynthia as
he greeted them. Then he begged permission
to glance at the letter, and when he had read it,
again favoured her with a keen glance. He had
just read that the Minister presented to him an
immensely wealthy Englishman, with his charm-
ing niece. But the admiration he felt did not
show itself in his face, which wore an expression
at once courteous and deferential.
“ I am completely at your service,” he said,
bowing to both. “ I feel honoured in being per-
mitted to welcome to my republic such distin-


THE TRAGICAL VISIT r47
guished guests. This, I presume, seﬁor, is your
daughter?”
“ My niece, your Excellency,” said John Car-
vel, smiling at Cynthia, who was looking her
prettiest; “ I have neither son noi' daughter.”
“ Their place is delightfully ﬁlled by the
seﬁorita I am sure,” said Don Luis, in that grave
voice of his, which gave genuine pleasure to
the ﬂattered, so convincing was it. “ Well, you
must allow me to entertain you during your
stay.”
“Your Excellency is exceedingly kind, but
our luggage has gone to the hotel opposite.”
“ To the hotel? No, really, I could not hear
of such a thing. You must consider yourselves
the honoured guests of my republic. I shall
send over to the hotel for your things, and shall
be delighted if you will remain here during your
stay in Santa Malua.”
John Carvel looked at Cynthia. This was
the true Spanish politeness of which he had
heard so much. He flushed with pleasure, as
he replied, “ Well, your Excellency, we are very
much obliged to you. We accept your invita-
tion most gratefully.”
“ I thank you,” said Don Luis. “ You will see
that we are quite up-to-date in Coquibe. I can


148 THE MESH
even offer you a cup of tea. But that is for
later, is it not? The English ﬁve o’clock—yes.
Well, you may have something to settle up at
your hotel. I shall expect you at the hour of
four—in time for tea.” He smiled at Cynthia,
who was favourably impressed by the man.
“ For the present, adios, seﬁorita—adios
seﬁor.”
“ Good-bye, your Excellency,” said John
Carvel, smiling.
When they were crossing the square again,
he spoke to his niece. “ By Jove! that’s a ﬁne
fellow, isn’t he? The real Spanish grandee——
give you the coat off his back and thank you
for taking it. I like him.”
“ So do I, Uncle,” said Cynthia. “ He seems
so genuine.”
To one who did not understand Don Luis, it
might seem strange that he should have spoken
of John Carvel’s daughter when, in the letter he
held in his hand, Cynthia was directly referred
to as the millionaire’s niece. By his question he
had secured information that the Englishman
had no direct heirs, a fact which interested him
hugely at the moment. The sight of Cynthia
had broufght’lto him a daring and novel inspira-
tion, He now, reﬂected on it, approved it, and
/
1


THE TRAGICAL VISIT 149
began to lay plans. Two years ago, the Co-
quibian Minister in England had married the
daughter of a wealthy leather merchant. What
had been done before, might be done again. A
President is, after all, a man. He is not re-
strained by the exclusive notions which hamper
royalty. It is not necessary that he should
marry into a royal line.
Two things, then, were left to discover: what
income John Carvel enjoyed, and who was his
heir or heiress. Don Luis was almost certain,
and Don Luis was right. A slight smile curved
his lips as he turned over in his mind this new
and pleasant project. True, there was Car-
mencita Pensol; but he would know how to deal
with her. She presented no just cause or im-
pediment to the affair.
He went presently to the telephone, and rang
up the private residence of the Minister of War,
a young man lately married to a Coquibian lady,
whose character was at once unimpeachable and
dull. This lady was soon conversing with him
over the wire.
“ I am giving a dinner to-night, seﬁora, to an
Englishman and his niece,” he said. “Would
you do me the honour by being present? The
Englishman will wish, perhaps, to talk business


150 THE MESH
with me, and, you know, I have no women in
my household.”
His Excellency did not see the grimace with
which the lady received this information. “ I
shall be delighted, your Excellency,” she said,
shrugging her shoulders up to her ears. “ At
eight, I presume—yes?” .
“ At eight,” said Don Luis. “ I shall expect
you then.”
The dinner was quite a success. The wife of
the Minister of War found that the poverty
of her English vocabulary efﬁciently concealed
the poverty of her mind. Cynthia thought her
broken English charming, and her frocks quite
delightful. The woman herself inspired no
deﬁnite feeling. One thought of her as some-
thing neutral. The President and john Carvel
got on excellently. The latter was surprised at
his host’s business acumen. He did not at
once make up his mind to increase his holdings
in Coquibian bonds; for he was too old a bird
to be caught by even the most delicate chaff. But
while he would not personally commit himself,
he was left with the impression that, in Don
Luis, the political ship of Coquibe had a master
mariner who knew the shoals, and would steer
it safely into calm waters. Don Luis, on his


THE TRAGICAL VISIT 151
side, was learning much. He began to see that
John Carvel was very rich indeed. He asked
no direct questions, but by illusions, and promp-
tings, he learned what he wanted to know.
Then he turned to the second question which
was agitating his mind. He was always adroit.
A slip of the tongue would irritate him for days
after it had been made. The genius in lying is
like the professional juggler: he depends utterly
on the continued perfection of his tricks.
“ Senor, sometimes I feel mournful,” he said,
in his gentle voice, having observed that Cynthia
and her companion were deeply absorbed in an
endeavour to understand each other. “ I am a
lonely man. When I die there will be no one
to carry on my name. Is it not strange that I
should think of that now—here? ”
John Carvel looked thoughtful. “ Not so
strange either. The same idea comes to me
sometimes ”
“ Ah! I understand,” said Don . Luis sym-
pathetically.
“ Well, I don’t worry about it very much. I
have a good wife, your Excellency.”
“ And that,” said Don Luis, patting the table
decidedly—“ that is the best thing in the
world.”-


152 THE MESH
John Carvel liked him for that frank state—
ment. “I have someone at least who will not
squander my money,” he said, smiling again.
Did he, ever so little, nod in the direction of
Cynthia? Don Luis thought so, and he was a
man with a genius for small things. “ Yes, that
aspect of the affair does not trouble me much.”
Dessert was brought in, but Cynthia and the
Minister’s wife retired to the great salon, leav-
ing the President and his guest to their wine.
“ A very charming young lady, your niece,”
said Don Luis, when the door had closed behind
the departing ladies. “So pretty, so fresh, so
—-ah! I hardly know how to express it—so alto—
gether English.”
“Yes, she’s a good girl,” said Carvel. He
looked at the President and nodded savagely.
“ You would hardly guess her errand here? ”
“ Her errand?”
“ She has come all the way to see her lover!
She begged hard to accompany me here. He
lives in Santa Malua, you know.”
The President’s temperature fell at least ten
degrees, but be preserved his composure admir-
ably, and, indeed, managed to smile.
“ Ah! she is engaged then? and she will be
married soon, eh?”


THE TRAGICAL VISIT 153
“I don’t know exactly when,” said Carvel.
“ He has to make his way in the world ﬁrst.”
Don Luis was secretly amused. It occurred
to him that were he in the young man’s place
he would look to John Carvel for advancement,
rather than trust to his own laborious exertions.
Truly these English were a peculiar people.
“ And what is the name of the man she has
honoured?” he asked.
John Carvel raised his eyebrows. “ Oh!
you may know him. He is the manager
of the English Bank here, and his name is
Temporel.”
The President started. It was really very
artistically done. It suggested amazement, re-
strained protest, the unwilling doubt of a man
who hears bad news. But the 010% of his acting
lay in the perfectly timed reCovery. The doubt
and amazement faded from his face, and he
smiled gravely.
“ Ah, Temporel! ”
John Carvel felt momentarily uncomfortable.
What the deuce did the man mean? he asked
himself, for Don Luis had the art which im-
perfectly conceals the truth.
“I suppose you have heard of him,” he said
shortly.


154 THE MESH
“ Oh, yes; he used to manage the bank in the
calle Suarez. I have met him.”
“ Used to? Your Excellency, he is still the
manager.”
“ Pardon, but no. The manager is named
Hardacre. So your niece has travelled all the
way from England to see her lover. What
admirable devotion! What angels are these
women who will sacriﬁce so much for us.”
john Carvel was not listening to this.
Who was Hardacre? There must be some
mistake.
“ Temporel is the manager,” he persisted.
“ The other man must be the cashier.”
“ But,” said his Excellency doubtfully, “ this
man has come recently from England. The
cashier has some other name, Pedo—ah,
Peters. But, as I was remarking ”
“ Your Excellency must pardon me,” said
Carvel, growing red in the face. “I cannot
understand what has happened.”
Don Luis kept silence for a little, then un-
willingly: “ My dear seﬁor, you must forgive
me if I do not pursue the subject. I shall only
distress you, and make myself feel—” he
began. -
“ Good Heavens! has he left the bank? ”


THE TRAGICAL vrsrr 155
“ He has, senor—but I would prefer not to
talk of it.”
“ Yes, yes, but you see what it means to me.
My niece is my heiress, and—oh, it’s unthink-
able! You sugges ”
“ Nothing,” said Don Luis, in a reassuring
tone. “It was not his fault. Some time ago
the bank was broken into, and a considerable
sum of money stolen. The directors of the
bank, thinking, no doubt, that the seﬁor Tem-
porel might have exercised greater vigilance,
were angry at the loss, and asked him to resign.
They sent out another member of the staff,
called Hardacre.”
Carvel’s face cleared a little. “ Your Excel-
lency rather disturbed me. I began to think
that he had done something. At least, you can
tell me where he is living now. My niece will
want to see him to-morrow.”
Again Don Luis hesitated. “Well, senor——
perhaps it would be better to——-—”
“ To do what?”
“ Well, to send him notice of your coming.”
Carvel frowned. There was too much hidden
in all this for his taste. He began to drum on
the table with his heavy ﬁngers.
“ Senor,” said the other anxiously, “ you place


156 THE MESH
me in a very unhappy position. This seﬁor is
engaged to your niece. He is known to me
personally. You will see—you will under-
stand ”
“I understand nothing,” said Carvel, forget-
ting his manners in his anxiety. “ What’s the
matter with the man? Has he taken to drink? ”
Don Luis was silent.
“Your Excellency, you don’t really mean
that? I was joking, of course. You seriously
mean that he drinks?”
His Excellency could be very digniﬁed
when he chose. Now he drew himself up, and
faced his questioner gravely. “ With all due
respect to you, senor, I refuse to pursue the
subject. I say I have already told you too
much.”
Carvel went white. He was thinking of poor
Cynthia, chatting perhaps in the other room.
“I cannot believe it. Well, I appreciate
your Excellency’s desire to spare my feelings.
But surely your Excellency will give me his
address. I must know it. My niece will cer-
tainly go to the bank otherwise.”
Don Luis shrugged. “In that case, yes.
He lives in the calle de los Vapores, near the
port. The house is No. 5.”


THE TRAGICAL VISIT 157
“ Thank you. I presume he is lodging with
someone?”
“ With a lady called the seﬁorita Juanna
Serrano.”
Again in his voice there was the momentary
hesitation, and Carvel was troubled.
“Of course, she is quite—er—quite—”
“I think so. I have no reason to believe
otherwise.”
“ Reduced circumstances, perhaps? Her
antecedents were, I presume, quite reputable
people?”
“ Senor, I cannot say that they were. But
then no one will believe that bad cannot come
from good. Of course ”
John Carvel rose heavily from the table. The
President tactfully got to his feet.
“ Shall we join the ladies, senor. They are
no doubt waiting for us in the salon.”


CHAPTER XIII
THE TELLING or 11'
THE following morning found Don Luis up and
away before his guests came down to breakfast.
Some business, requiring immediate attention,
had called him away, said the polite secretary,
but he would return before the evening. He had
sent greetings to both, and polite expressions of
regret at the necessity which drew him away.
There was a bad quarter of an hour at break-
fast; Cynthia was bubbling over with joy at the
prospect of the day’s visit. John Carvel sat
thoughtful and silent, anxious not to depress or
harass the girl, but very conscious of his duty
in this matter, and the inevitableness of its per-
formance. The thing lay heavy on him. It
seemed that he, he of all men, was destined to
shatter Cynthia’s dream of happiness. He
trembled to think of what she would say when
he told her. He was greatly moved.
158


THE TELLING OF IT 159
“ I am going to see him to-day, Uncle! ” the
girl said suddenly. “I have been thinking of
it ever since I left England, and now it has come
at last. Oh, I am so glad!”
“Heaven help me!” said John Carvel to
himself. “It is going to be hard to tell
her.”
Breakfast over, he took her gently by the
arm, and led her into the salon. His face
was furrowed with thought, his eyes pitiful
and troubled. “ Sit down, my dear,” he said
slowly, “I have something to say to you. I
don’t think you should see Mr Temporel
to-day.”
It came out as bluntly as that. All his ﬁne-
ness, all the subtle lead up he had prepared,
went from him, confronted by the real core of
the situation.
“ Uncle dear,” said Cynthia, on a high note,
“ he’s not He is quite well?”
“Quite, I understand, but—” he stam-
mered, and halted as he looked at her, and
observed her growing pallor. “ My dearest
girl, I hardly know how to tell you. There!
keep up—I suppose I had better tell you
directly.”
He told her then, and, as he spoke, a certain


THE TELLING OF IT 161
for you should keep him from excesses, even in
misfortune. He was not blamed for the bank
robbery, you must remember ”
“ It is a wonder!” cried Cynthia hotly. “I
suppose these horrid directors really believed he
had taken their nasty money ”
John Carvel pressed her hand. “ Well, cheer
up, we haven’t seen the other side of the shield
yet. We may be disturbing ourselves for noth-
ing. I shall make inquiries, you may be sure.
Perhaps the President could help us; or do you
object to my asking him about it?”
“ I would rather you did,” said Cynthia.
“ Someone has told him and he believes it. I
would like to see Charles cleared in the sight of
the world.”
“ Then,” said Carvel decidedly, “ let us leave
it till the evening. When the President returns
we must concert some plan to get at the real
truth of the matter.”
They found Don Luis sympathetic, reassur-
ing, and hopeful. "
“ It was told to me and I did not go into the
matter, since it was no business of mine,” he
said, looking from one to the other. “ If I had
known, I might have made inquiries which would
have relieved your minds. What do you sug-
L


162 THE MESH
gest should be done. If I can be of the slightest
service, count on me fully.”
“Your Excellency,” said Cynthia earnestly,
the tears in her eyes, “would you—would you
ask him here?”


CHAPTER XIV
THE PROOF
AT the girl’s words, his Excellency started, and
John Carvel took a step forward. Then Don
Luis answered in a tone full of compassion:
“ Senorita, I shall willingly do so, if you wish
it, but ” He frowned a little, and made an
uncertain gesture. “ Yes, perhaps, I might
write to him, asking him to dine here with us,
and mentioning that you are staying here with
your uncle.” As he said these last words he
exchanged a quick glance with Carvel, who
nodded slightly. Again it was a nicely timed
hint, and Cynthia, who had been watching them
both, took it.
“ I am sure your Excellency means it kindly,”
she said, in a hard voice, “ but I do not want
to be put off with fair seeming. I want to know
the truth. If you write, please invite him to
dine, nothing more.”

r63


164 THE MESH
The President’s attitude was wholly admi-
rable. The man was a genius in his own way.
“A woman and a child are both cruel,” he
said. “ Do not ask me to do that. Let me
tell him that you are here.”
“ No.”
Cynthia was inﬂexible. Her conﬁdence was
so great, her hopes so high, that she would not
have it even seem she mistrnsted her lover, that
she had to warn him of her presence. He should
come as he was. Oh, she knew him! He could
soon silence his detractors, put an end to the
malicious wagging of tongues.
“ No, your Excellency. Please me, help me
by doing as I ask.”
“ She is right,” said John Carvel slowly,
“ quite right. The man does not need to be
whitewashed. He can stand up for himself.”
His Excellency dropped both hands in a ges-
ture of resignation. He rose above himself at
this moment. He was monumental, unique,
great. His manner expressed with the inevi-
tability of the highest art that he resigned himself
to their will, hoping for the best, but incredu-
lous, doubtful, a little surprised that a loving
woman should put her lover to so hard a test.”
“ Senorita, I shall do as you wish.”


THE PROOF 165
John Carvel held out his hand. “ I am much
obliged to you,” he said earnestly.
“ And I,” said Cynthia. She left them
slowly, went from the room, and draggingly up-
stairs. There she threw herself down upon her
bed to sob, and to wonder.
It was four o’clock on the afternoon following
when the President’s secretary was instructed
by his employer to go in search of Temporel.
“ He lives in the calle de los Vapores, as
you know,” said Don Luis, “but you may not
ﬁnd him there at this hour. Search the fondas,
and also look last into the American Bar of the
Chilaca Hotel—you will most probably ﬁnd him
there. Draw him aside, and tell him that I wish
to see him. Do nOt say that the matter is im-
portant; simply give that message. Be sure
that he promises to come. Sabe ? ”
“And when he arrives, your Excellency?”
“ Then you will meet him personally and show
him into the salon. Now, go.”
This commission was by no means a sinecure.
The secretary called at the house of Juanna
Serrano, and learned that the Englishman had
gone out shortly after breakfast, and had not
returned. The old woman told him that, and
her shrug was suggestive. Then began a


THE PROOF 167
The secretary intercepted him on his way to
the counter.
“ Seﬁor, I would speak with you.”
Temporel looked at him cunningly. “ I hear
you—er—speaking. I’m not—er—I say I’m
not keeping you back.” a
The secretary made bold to take him by the
arm, and lead him back to the corner where he
had been sitting.
“ Senor, the President has asked me to see
you. He asks that you shall visit him this
evening.”
“ Shan’t! ” said Temporel, resuming his seat.
This infantile exclamation made the secretary
shake with silent laughter, but he kept his face
grave.
“ He would like to see you this evening,” he
said persuasively.
Temporel turned towards Jake, who was busy
with his glasses.
“Jake! I have honour visit s’Excellency the
President—what say?”
“ ’Bout time you saw somebody,” said Jake,
grinning. “ Well, run along, sir.”
Temporel turned to the messenger again.
“ I’ll go with you. I ﬁnd lots of people in this
place disappear in extraordinary way. I dunno


168 THE MESH
what they do with him—most mysterious, ’pon
my word. So I am going to come with you,
and you mus’ see that s’Excellency doesn’ do the
same—see? ”
He rose. The secretary smilingly agreed to
answer for the President. Together they left
the bar, and made their way to the palacio of
his Excellency. Admitted, the secretary led
the way up the wide stairway, and pausing
before the door of the salon, addressed his
companion.
“ Will you please to enter, seﬁor.”
The door opened, and Temporel walked
slowly into the room. He had an appearance
of immense dignity; his head up, his shoulders
thrown back, his mouth suspiciously ﬁrm. In
the middle of the vast apartment, a woman sat
alone upon a settee. She rose now, and ad-
vanced slowly across the ﬂoor. Her face was
very pale, set; the corners of her mouth drooped
suddenly as her eyes fell upon Temporel, ab-
surdly digniﬁed, coming towards her.
“ How do, Excellency? ” said the latter, in a
husky voice, and looked about him in a puzzled
way. “Ah! beg pardon, I’m sure—as I was
saying little time ago, people have a wonderful
way—do you know—~——” He hesitated. “ Do


THE PROOF 169
you know that fellow promised me he would
see Why, he’s gone again.”
“ Don’t you know me, Charles?”
Cynthia’s voice was faint. She could hardly
speak. Because her conﬁdence had been so
great, her hopes so high, she felt now as if she
had been brutally bludgeoned. Her limbs gave
under her. He did not recognise her. What
an inﬁnity of pain there was in that knowledge.
He came closer, and for a moment it seemed
to her that he recognised who she was. But the
light in his eyes died again, and he only stared
at her in a bewildered way.
“Why are you calling me ‘ Charles’ ?” he
asked. “ I haven’t the pleasure—of course,
there’s no, I know—no offence intended.”
She forced herself to approach him, to lay
a hand on his arm, and look into his face.
“ Charles, you must remember me; I am
Cynthia.”
He ﬁxed her with an intense but perplexed
regard; then his eyes strayed down to the little
hand which lay upon his arm.
“ Now I think of it—I—er—seem to have—
I b’lieve I met someone—some time—Cynthia?
Seems to me that name’s just like people—con-
tinually disappearing—fact. Do you know I


THE PROOF 171
as if the sympathetic and softer side of her
nature had been taken away. Her mind was
filled with a faint disgust. She was not used to
drunken men. She had seen them in crowds in
the streets, but never before had she been face
to face with one in the privacy of a house—and
that man her lover. Oh, it was horrible!
“ Charles—Mr Temporel—I am Cynthia—-
do you not remember?”
Some faint perception of the truth crept into
his poor, fuddled brain. Her voice, her look,
the lines of her ﬁgure brought back to him some-
thing of the past. He was sobered a little.
Surely he had seen this girl before. Her face
reminded him of a shadow shape which used
to ﬂit across his dreams. Suddenly he began to
cry, his head bent down over his arms. It was
foolish, futile weeping, wrung from him because
he was unstrung, because he half-remembered
sweet things which were past, and would not
return. In a moment Cynthia was at his side.
“ Charles—dear Charles! ”
He looked up, and saw her bending over him.
It was all a dream. He was asleep, and Cynthia
had come back to him. He had dreamed so
before. In those dreams Cynthia would bend
over to kiss him; he would reach up, stretch out


172 THE MESH
his arms to clasp her—and she would vanish
with his awakening. Now, she was so near.
This time she could not escape him.
He put his arm suddenly about the girl’s
neck, and as she yielded to the unexpected
strain, his lips met hers.
In an instant Cynthia released herself and
sprang back. He got to his feet with a foolish
laugh, advanced towards her as she retreated.
A table stopped her for a moment, and again
he had taken her in his arms.
“Mr Temporel,” her voice was very cold,
“let me go at once! I forbid you to touch me
again.”
He dropped his arms, and stood like a man
struck.
“ No harm meant—Cynthia,” he said huskily.
“ You played trick on me before. You know—
always going and Coming ”
Cynthia’s only thought was to retire from the
room as quickly as possible. She wanted to be
alone, to empty her heart in sick sobbing, to
forget.
Temporel moved back to the settee, keeping
his eyes ﬁxed on her with a baﬂﬂed air. He was
vaguely aware that another misfortune had over-
taken him, that he had lost something—but


THE PROOF 173
what? To think was an effort. A dozen con-
fused images reeled in his brain; he strove
among them confusedly. Figures pushed them—
selves under his eye—the President was at the
door of his bedroom at the bank, was telling
him that the bank had been entered. The
dumb man stood before him, posturing absurdly,
gesticulating with clenched hands full of money,
absurdly anxious to express some vague and
inexplicable thing. Juanna sat beside his bed,
her appeasing hand like ice on his forehead
—then the door opened and Cynthia came
in. She looked at him coldly, and his heart
sank.
Temporel glanced up, and his eyes fell upon
the real Cynthia, near the door, moving from
him. She was going away, retreating inexor-
ably. He knew now; she had come to him
and he had not remembered.
He staggered to his feet.
“ Cynthia, come back! ”
But the door opened, and She passed out. He
tried to run, but his tripping feet failed him. He
swerved and fell.
Cynthia came quickly into the room where
John Carvel was sitting. She was deathly pale
——her breath came in little gasps.


174 THE MESH
“ Uncle, oh, Uncle! It’s true. He is in
there ”—she pointed—“ I cannot go back.”
He sprang up and supported her.
“There, my dear, try to be calm. Sit
down here—yes, I will get you a cushion.”
He went to a bell—push and pressed, and coming
back to Cynthia took her cold hand. “All
right, I will see him.”
He went out, and passing through the hall,
met the President’s secretary. “ Go out and get
a cab at once. The gentleman who called is not
well, and must be taken home. You know the
address?”
“ Certainly, seﬁor; I will go at once.”
John Carvel went to the door of the salon,
opened it, and entered. He was very angry.
The whole affair looked very bad. He intended
to speak very sharply to the fellow. He was
immensely annoyed that he had listened to
Cynthia when she had begged him to let her
accompany him to South America—but, after
all, perhaps it was for the best.
It was as well she should know.
He advanced quickly.
But Temporel was again seated on the settee.
He leaned a little forward, his arms hanging, his
head drooped, his eyes closed.


THE PROOF 175
John Carvel did not wake him. He stopped
—his underlip a little thrust out, a frown on his
face. He was still standing there silently when
the secretary came to announce that the cab
was waiting below.


CHAPTER XV
ASTER CALLS A BLUFF
THEREAFTER, Temporel began to go steadily
downhill.‘
His only hope lay in drowning sensation,
memory; in making himself oblivious to the
nightmare of thought.
He received sullenly now Juanna’s protests.
What did it matter? Even Cynthia had cast
him off.
One day he was, as usual, in the American
Bar at the “ Chilaca.” He had had two glasses of
brandy, and was approaching the counter to ob-
tain another, when a short, broad-shouldered
man, who had been observing him for some
time, stepped up to him and laid a hand on his
shoulder.
“ I guess we’re both a kind of Saxons, so you
won’t mind my shouting. We’ll have one to-
gether, eh? ”
1 76


ASTER CALLS A BLUFF I77
“ I don’t mind if I do,” said Temporel reck-
lessly. “ We’ll have any number you like.”
The short man ordered two cocktails, and had
them carried to the little table in the corner. He
sat down opposite Temporel, and smiled.
“ My name’s Aster,” he began. “ Yours, I
know, is Temporel. So we know each other.
Well, Mr Temporel, I’ve heard all about you,
and I take it that you’ve been handed a regular
pailful of wash.”
“ We’ll not talk of it,” said Temporel, glanc-
ing at him suspiciously.
“Then we won’t. But as a kind Of race-
cousin meeting you in Dago land, I’ll just
turn on the advice tap for a spell, if you
don’t mind.”
“ I like it,” said Temporel bitterly.
“ Well, then, let me tell you, sir, you’re but-
ting into a poker game where the only limit is
hell, and don’t you forget it. You can take on
a mighty good player, but Old Nick is going
to take in your chips every time. You see he’s
the dealer in this poker game, and your deck is
only going to pan out a pair to his straight ﬂush.
Now, don’t lose your hair over my good talk. I
mean it well, and it isn’t every fellow I would
I take the trouble over.”
11


178 THE MESH
“ Thank you,” said Temporel. “ You lecture
very delightfully.”
“ Good enough. Some men would have given
me sour looks for that. We’ll just have a look
into this notion of yours. What do you reckon
to make by it, anyway?”
“ Heaven only knows why I am discussing
my affairs with you, Mr Aster, and I’ve a good
mind to tell you to go to Jericho; but, since
you have been kind enough to poke your nose
into what doesn’t concern you, you shall hear.
I’m going to drink myself dead, see? I intend
to make my gloomy life a pretty short one.”
“ There are easier ways,” said Aster thought-
fully, “ but it seems to me your philosophy is
racketing about in its casing. Someone has
cleaned you up, and that someone is going about
this very minute, sporting a glad smile, and
occasionally laughing some. Suppose a fellow
comes along and hands you a punch on the
solar plexus. What do you do? Well, accord-
ing to your off-theory, you get a club and bang
yourself hard over the head—sabe ? And for
every kick the fellow gives you, you give your-
self another, till you’ve kicked yourself right off
the earth. And what’s the other fellow doing?
Well, he keeps on smiling.”


ASTER CALLs A BLUFF 179
Temporel was interested in spite of himself.
“ And your policy under similar circumstances? ”
“ Well, the man who short-circuits me is going
to pray for himself hard. He is sure. If he’s
hiding in his cyclone cellar, he is going to ﬁnd
an earthquake being born under him; and if he
takes to an aeroplane—he’ll wish he’d selected
the earthquake! I’ll quit allegory, and give it to
you neat. Some fellow or fellows got into your
bank, and slid out with a considerable sum. You
got into hot water with the big things on the
other side. They cut you loose, and the fellows
who’d put their ﬁngers in your eye side—stepped
you. Have you won anything? Guess not.
But, say you, it isn’t enough; I have got to get
ﬁlled up with misfortune, it’s up to me to be
darned miserable. You’re doing it. You’re
making a pretty decent constitution into soft
soap, and providing a raree-show for all the pie-
faced Dagoes in this city.”
Temporel ﬂushed, but recovered himself.
“ Your talk is extra dry,” he said. “ Have
something with me? ”
“Jake,” said Aster t0 the bar tender, “ sling
us some more ‘Paradise.’ ” He turned again to
Temporel and went on. “ I’m going to tread on
a few of your raw nerves, Mr Temporel, and


180 THE MESH
chance the squeal. Don’t you see what I mean?
The man who puts up to drink himself into a
cofﬁn is only hitting himself. Samson was cute
enough not to like making sport for the Philis-
tines when they put his eyes out, but you’re
putting your own eyes out just on purpose to
entertain. Look here, I am going to drink this
cocktail, and if you are going to drink yours, I
freeze out of the game altogether. Now.”
Temporel leaned forward. “I believe you
are quite honest. Do you think I gave up with-
out ﬁghting; that I took to this at once? No,
I put up every pound I had nearly. They’re
gone now—bribes, and expenses, and salary to
a man who thought he could see the thing
through. And now I have taken to this.”
He swallowed his cocktail coolly.
“ Kind of amateur detective,” said Aster.
“ What was his name?”
“ Barriga,” said Temporel absently.
Aster nodded, and proffered a well-ﬁlled cigar-
case. “ Put one of these on, and listen to me.
I’m here on business, at least I was. You know
what a Pinkerton agent is? Well, I’m one. I
came, to Santa Malua to round up a boodler
from Missouri. I didn’t, for he committed sui-
cide the‘day I landed. Then I heard of you,


ASTER CALLS A BLUFF 181
and took a kind of professional interest in the
case. About ten years back, I was on a case
in Nicaragua—Government job, paid for by his
Littleness the President of that day. The man
I wanted was a Spanish swindler, who had
cleared out with a pile of somebody else’s cash.
I never got him. I landed the day after he did
at Para. He cut across country, hit the Amazon
somewhere, and went up-stream with some
caucheros. I’ve been on a mighty lot Of busi-
ness since, but that failure stuck in my neck.
Here, I ran upon a fellow who looked my man.
I can’t say he is, I can’t say he isn’t. Ten years
is some time. But I cabled over to the Old man
on the other side, and got a free pass over the
line. You see there are big interests involved;
and there’s an old Spanish fellow called Zumala,
living in Leon still, who would cough up readily
if I could put hands on the man I want.”
Temporel yawned. “I have no doubt your
narrative is correct,” he said languidly; “ but
I can’t see what it all has to do with me. Have
another?”
“ No, I’m talking straight. I shall be here for
a month or two. I want to help you, so’s to help
myself, see? Ten to one your Barriga fellow did
nothing but drew his pay. Now, I am used to


182 THE MESH
hunting up yeggsmen of all kinds. You haven’t
to contribute a dime. All you have to do is to
tell me what happened, and I’ll put my thinking
gear in mesh.”
Temporel lighted the cigar he had been hold-
ing between his ﬁngers, and thought quickly. '
Was the man honest? Did he really offer to make
investigations without payment? It seemed so.
But was it possible that, after this lapse of time,
his inquiries would lead to anything? For the
ﬁrst time since that terrible scene, Temporel
thought without bitterness of Cynthia. Memory
was like a whip-lash. Was it fair to her, fair to
himself, that he should abandon hope? Was it
not possible that she loved him yet—that he
might go to her again, free of his folly, righted
in the eyes of the world? The very thought
made the blood run fast in his veins.
He held out his hand. “ Mr Aster, whatever
your motives may be, and I believe that they
are worthy ones, you have saved me from my-
self. Shake hands. I will tell you what I have
done, and what happened at the bank. If we
win out, you’ll ﬁnd that the business may pay
from both sides. My Heavens, man, you can’t
know what it means to me! ”
“I’ve heard something, and I’ve guessed a


ASTER CALLS A BLUFF 183
lot,” said Aster, settling himself to listen. “ Go
ahead! ”-
Temporel told him shortly and plainly, and
explained the steps he had taken to discover the
criminals. Aster nodded.
“ Your watchman, José—you don’t think he
was in it? ”
“ I am sure he was not.”
“ Then there’s this dumb man; the fellow
whose daughter is putting you up—what do you
make of him? ”
“ I have no clear idea.”
“ That’s where you hit the wrong trail. He
was busy trying to explain something to you.
He took money out of his pocket. Take it that
that referred to the money from the bank; he
put it in his other pocket—that’s the transfer to
someone else. That fellow was going to put
you wise to the whole thing, and you go and have
him stowed away in the calabozo, where you
can’t get at him.”
“ You think that was what he meant? But
the President said he was a notorious criminal.”-
“ Maybe, sir; but now and again one will
smoke the whole thing. Well, he’s dead, so
there’s no use talking. Thevmen who did up
the bank were old hands. We have got to ﬁnd


ASTER CALLS A BLUFF 185
talking. I’ll meet you tO-morrow at four in the
American—”
“ Not there, Mr Aster, I’d almost got the
habit.”
“ Right, on the third seat in the Alameda then.
So long! Here’s luck.”
“ By Jove, yes! ” said Temporel.


CHAPTER XVI
DANGER
FOR some reason, inexplicable to Cynthia, John
Carvel announced his intention of remaining for
a further month in Santa Malua. His pretext
was that he saw in the republic ground for proﬁ-
table schemes, an excuse which gained validity
from the recent association with Don Estaban
Torino, a local banker and ﬁnancier, who was
also the President of the National Gold Mining
Corporation of Coquibe.
Cynthia could hardly believe that that was
her uncle’s sole motive for lingering in a place
he had once spoken of as a “ one-horse show ”;
but she did not trouble to inquire into his
reasons. She had abandoned her ﬁrst impulse
to ﬂy from the place where she had suffered such
intense unhappiness. Pride came to her aid.
The President, Don Luis, had been a sharer in
that terrible knowledge; now he should see that
186


DANGER 187
an English woman could support herself under
misfortune without the loss of her dignity or self-
respect; he should never see how she reeled
under the blow which had been given her.
Temporel she put out of her mind as com-
pletely as she could ; but now and again thoughts
of her lost lover would spring to her brain, and
with them doubts, fugitive and momentary, if
she had foolishly refused to obey the dictates of
her heart. She remembered that marriage is
more ideally than practically a reforming agent,
while she passed over, without considering it, the
fact that Temporel had not willingly abandoned
himself to intemperance. Even then, his con-
duct revealed a certain weakness of character,
and it was impossible for her to know the cumu-
lative mental agony which had been inﬂicted
upon him by the loss of his treasured post.
They stayed with Don Luis for a week, and
then, since their visit to Santa Malua had been
extended, John Carvel rented for a month a fur-
nished house on the northern outskirts of the
town. The President visited them there fre-
quently. His carriage often called to take Cyn-
thia and Carvel for a drive, while his Excellency
himself devoted to them all the hours he could
spare from the responsible duties of his ofﬁce.


188 THE MESH
He brought Cynthia ﬂowers, baskets of rare fruit,
and books (for she had begun to learn Spanish
as a means of passing idle hours). He was at
ﬁrst sympathetic, then, adroit to a degree, he
seemed to have forgotten all that had passed,
and put Cynthia fully at her ease by the careful
avoidance of any topic which might lead her
thoughts into that unpleasant channel.
The Doﬁa Carmencita Pensol was now at the
little seaside resort of Piedraoles. On the day
following the arrival of the Carvels, Don Luis
had sent her a letter, enclosing a thousand pesos,
and suggesting that she should try a change of
air. There was a little casino at Piedraoles, and
Carmencita went there gladly. She won sufﬁ-
cient to encourage her to prolong her stay. So
the President, Don Luis, had leisure to play out
his hand.
Temporel, on the day after his meeting with
Aster, set out on his search. He had little difﬁ-
culty in ﬁnding a rurale willing to talk for a
consideration. But the man who has his tongue
loosened by coins, may talk to both sides.
Temporel must get the information he required
without arousing the suspicion of the man that he
was being “ pumped.” He suggested a visit to
a little fonda situated in the pleasant village of


DANGER 189
Otaque, half an hour from Santa Malua. The
man was off duty until the evening, and wel-
comed the prospect of a free holiday. They took
train from the station in the Plaza Mayor, and
soon found themselves at their destination.
There they alighted, and talking amiably, made
their way to the fonda.
“ That was an immense affair at the English
Bank, senor,” said the mrale when they were
seated in the garden of the inn. “ I had some-
thing to do with that. For several days I rode
in the country like a man bereft, searching for
those bribons.”
Temporel smiled carelessly. The rurale
knew that he had been manager of the bank, and
merely wished to satisfy some easy curiosity.
So much the better. It would be easier to get
the information he sought.
“ Ah! but they were never caught.”
“ No, senor, and it was the strangest thing in
the world. Our men formed a cordon about
the doors; they remained there for over an hour,
I believe, but, when the bank was searched,
they found no one. Some say that the devil
had something to. do with it. I do not believe
that. Still, to escape through a cordon of
watching men without being seen! ”


190 THE MESH
“ I believe they must have been drunk, your
men,” said Temporel in an indignant tone.
“ That is not possible, seﬁor. I know these
men, and they are good fellows.”
“If what you say is true, I should like to
reward them,” said Temporel. “ At least they
waited for a long time. What were their names
—will you write them down for me? Here is
paper.”
The rurale took the paper, and found a
stump of pencil. He began to write slowly.
“ Do not mention this to anyone,” said Tem-
porel.
“ I shall not, seﬁor. The teniente is greedy.
He would probably demand from the men
the money you gave them. It is always so
here.”
Temporel got his list presently, and placed
it carefully in his pocket-case. He had not the
remotest idea why Aster wanted it, but was
determined to carry out his instructions to the
letter. He rose to order some wine for the
mrale when he came face to face with Barriga,
who had just entered the garden.
“Well met, senor,” said the latter, smiling.
“ How are affairs with you? You have heard
nothing more of the ladrones—no? Well, seﬁor,


DANGER 191
let us drink to their speedy destruction. You
will take wine with me? ”
Temporel was perplexed. He thought it
might be difﬁcult to explain the presence of the
rurale, and his reasons for entertaining him.
Still the situation had to be faced.
“Thank you. I must deny myself the plea-
sure. I came here with one of the mmles who
had to do with the inquiry. It appears that he
worked hard over it, and I wishe ”
“You were always generous, seﬁor. May I
be permitted to join you.”
Temporel thought quickly. After all, Barriga
had been a paid agent in connection with this
very affair. Besides, it would be impossible with-
out discourtesy to refuse such an amiable
demand.
“If you please,” he said as agreeably as he
could. “ He is sitting over there. I am going
to order some wine, and some cigars. I shall
be with you in a moment.”
Barriga nodded, and joined the rurale, who
looked up at him in apparent surprise, and raised
his hand a little. Barriga stopped him with a
signiﬁcant gesture, and said something to him
in a low voice.
Temporel came back presently, and held out


192 THE MESH
a well-ﬁlled cigar-case. “ They are good, I
think,” he said. “ And now, Seﬁor Barriga,
what brings you out here to-day? ”
The other blew out a puff of smoke, and
sighed luxuriously. “ Like you, seﬁor, I enjoy
a holiday. This is a charming place, and a great
favourite with me. I come here often. But is
it not strange that we should meet, and also our
good friend here, who happened to be concerned
in the inquiry? ” He turned to the rurale, who
was drinking his wine, and looked rather ill at
ease. “ You were with the cordon, eh, my
friend?”
“ No, seﬁor; afterwards I searched for the
ladrones.”
Barriga reﬂected. “ Does it not occur to you,
senor, that we might have secured some valuable
information if we had interrogated the rurales
who watched outside the bank?” he said
thoughtfully.
Temporel started. The mrale looked up.
“ Seﬁor, I have ” he began, stopped, and
glanced at the Englishman.
But Barriga did not appear to have heard him.
He smoked his cigar, and looked up at the sky
with lazy eyes.
“ I don’t think so,” said Temporel hurriedly.


DANGER 193
“ If they had seen anyone coming from the bank
they would have seized him at once. It is
obvious that they saw nothing.”
“That is true,” said Barriga. He favoured
Temporel with a sharp glance. “ It was merely
my suggestion.”
“ As I told you, I abandoned the inquiry,” said
Temporel, suddenly cautious. - “ It is done with.
A great many days have passed since the rob-
bery. It would not be much satisfaction to me
to get the rogues when they had disposed of
the money.”
They stayed at the fonda, smoking and chat-
ting until the early afternoon, when the rurale
thought of siesta, and Temporel remembered
that he had an appointment to meet Aster at
four o’clock in the Alameda. So, after bidding
farewell to their humbler companion, Temporel
and Barriga went off together to the station, and
took train for Santa Malua. There they parted,
Barriga turning down a Side street, and the
Englishman making his way leisurely to the
Alameda.
Aster was there already waiting for him.
“ Howdy, Mr Temporel? You’re right to
time.”
“ There or about. I’ve got the list too, by
N


194 THE MESH
I/
Jove! I managed to get hold Of a rumie Off
duty,” said Temporel, and went on to relate what
he had done that day.”
“ So your amateur detective met you there,”
said Aster. “What do you think he wanted,
anyway? ”
“Well, he had a soft job, and perhaps he
thought he might get it again. He had a lot
of my money over the business, for bribes and
so forth. But I think our meeting was acci-
dental. He told me he often went to the little
9)
mm.
“ Let’s see that list,” said Aster, reaching out
his hand. “I’ll just run over the names, and '
see if I can’t get at some of the men.”
Temporel handed him the slip of paper, and
he read it slowly.
“What shall I do to-morrow? ” asked the
former, smiling a little. “ Since I’m on the staff
I must take my instructions from you.”
“ Right,” said Aster, his eyes twinkling. “ I’ll
give you a commission right here. TO-morrow
I want you to hunt up that watchman, José. I
heard the bank had ﬁred him, too, or, at least,
the new manager did when he inquired into the
case. I don’t know if he got a job since, but
you should ﬁnd him easy. Stop away from


196 THE MESH
So, as darkness fell, he left the little house in
the calle de los Vapores, and set out towards the
great square. The heat of the day had passed,
and, in a cool black sky, big, luminous stars
glowed steadily. The air was balmy, still com-
fortably warm, but sweet and fresh after the
sultriness of a sweltering day. Temporel felt
appreciably happier; he thought with unmixed
wonder of the period of sorrowful and pitiful
deterioration through which he had lately passed.
Why had he been so easily depressed? Was it
to be wondered at that Cynthia had seen in him
not the man who had been given her love, but a
foolish sot, weak and decadent? He had seen
Cynthia two days ago, sitting in the President’s
carriage; but at sight of her he had shrunk back
into the shelter of a welcome doorway. He
cursed that insane aberration which had driven
him to steep his senses in futile and reasonless
dissipation.
She was still in Santa Malua. In a way, he
wondered at that. Had she still some love for
him, or was her remaining an effort of pride
piqued at her humiliations? He could not say.
But soon he would go to her again; this time
his own man. He would lay all his case before
her, and ask her for the sake of the love she had


DANGER 197
borne him, for the sake of the past, to forget that
he had ever slipped, to forgive him for his mani-
fest weakness.
In England he had made the acquaintance of
John Carvel. Perhaps it would be better ﬁrst
to appeal to him. To a man he could explain
many things. Perhaps it would be better.
As he strode on, absorbed in these perplexing
thoughts, he had reached the town, and was
crossing the mouth of a small passage which ran
into the Plaza Magellan. The place there was
very dark. The nearest lamp was at a distance
of forty paces. Most of the townsfolk had
gathered in the Gran’ Plaza, and this square was
quite deserted. He stepped off the pavement,
and would have traversed the entrance to the
alley in a few paces, when a sharp detonation
and a bright ﬂash startled him into action. His
hat spun from his head, and fell to the ground.
At once he realised that someone had ﬁred at
him, and dashed into the alley from which the
shot had proceeded. He was unarmed, except
for a light stick, but in his fury he never thought
of that.
Probably it was as well. Had' he continued
his progress, his would-be assassin would inevi-
tably have followed him, and aimed more truly.


DANGER r 99
“ Senor,” said the second man, who was a
civilian, “have you seen a man running? A
shot was ﬁred lately. Possibly someone has
been killed.”
“ Barriga! ” cried Temporel, recognising the
voice.
“ Ea! It is the seﬁor Temporel! ”


CHAPTER XVII
THE DUMB MAN
“ I WISH you had come sooner,” said Temporel,
in an angry voice. “ A man ﬁred at me, and I
followed him to this place. I think he went into
one of these houses.”
“ Here? ” said Barriga; then hurriedly, “ Well,
I will visit each in turn. You can give informa-
tion to the rurale who will see that proper inquiry
is made into the matter.”
He turned away immediately, and knocked
at the door of the house near at hand. Tem-
porel turned to the other man, and began to
explain what had happened. “ You should
keep a closer eye upon these streets at night,” he
added. “ The moment there is a fete on all you
fellows leave your patrols and crowd into the
plaza, so that half a dozen men might be mur-
dered in the other parts of the town, without any-
one being made to pay for it.”
200


202 THE MESH
Temporel grimly. “ I am going on now to the
plaza. Good night. I hope a proper search
will be made this time. They dropped the bank
affair like a hot coal.”
“ Oh, we shall inquire into it,” said the good-
humoured rurale. “ You may assure yourself
of that. Buenos noc/zes, ser'ior.”
“ Good night,” added Barriga, and went Off
with his companion.
Temporel, annoyed and mystiﬁed, had one
more look at the house, and resumed his walk
towards the Gran’ Plaza. He arrived there
quite safely. He would tell Aster of What had
occurred. The American might be able to
throw some light upon the situation. In the
circumstances it was natural that the band per-
formance did not give him so much enjoyment
as he had anticipated. He was absent-minded,
thinking of the night’s events. Evidently the
criminals were desperate men, who would stick
at nothing. Possibly they realised that he had
again determined to prosecute inquiries into the
affair at the bank. He remembered now the
man he had seen that afternoon slipping away
amongst the trees on the Alameda. "
He would be more careful in future, carry a
weapon, and be prepared to defend himself, or


204 THE MESH
and will make some inquiries to link up the
people with that old friend I’m after. Put that
out of your mind.”
“ I’ll try to,” said Temporel, laughing a little,
“ but, you know, I was brought up in a civilised
country, where a man with a pistol is locked up
as a rather objectionable anachronism. By-the-
way, what did you do yesterday? Had you any
success?”
Aster smiled ambiguously. “ I had, and I
hadn’t. Your sefiorita did not tell me much that
I had not already heard from you. But I had
a bit of luck in another direction.”
“ Had you? By Jove! let me hear it.”
“ Well, you know the prison here—that slab-
sided erection near the Electric Station—I
thought I would just start in to get some infor-
mation about that. I got it—yes, sir, I got it!
I was picking over some odds and ends in a
cheap book-store, when I came across a plan of
the jail. It was done when the building was
built, and lithographed for the beneﬁt of the
citizens who were surely proud of the advance
made when they put up this calabozo. I froze
on to that map, at a cost of twenty-ﬁve centavos.”
Temporel smiled perplexedly. “ Good, but
what then? ”


206 THE MESH
donated him ﬁfty dollars for distribution amongst
the poor—meaning him. Then I explained
who I was supposed to be—a feverish American,
investigating the prison systems of fourteen
countries for purposes of comparison. I asked
him would he be kind enough to tell me how
many prisoners there were in the jail, and the
nature of the offences with which they were
charged? He was very polite, explained that he
could not let me see through the jail, but would
give me the nature of the offences the men were
sentenced for. I agreed that was all I wanted,
crime, in other people, being a kind of passion
with me. Well, to make a long story short, I
discovered that his list had only sixty-two names.
The storekeeper said sixty-three.”
“ Yes,” said Temporel, “ but the Ofﬁcials may
be keeping the extra ration.”
“What! A small bag of beans—for that’s
most all they get. No, sir, the jefe polilico
and others of them have faked the register.
There’s one prisoner they pretend isn’t inside.”
Temporel leaned forward. “ And you really
think?”
“ Think—it’s a dead cinch that our friend the
dumb man is there. I’ll bet the suicide story
was a fake.”


THE ONE WAY OUT 209
which was printed on cloth-backed paper. He
spread it out on his knees.
“ Well, we must get inside the brain-box of
the fellow who put up the job—metaphorically I
mean. Here he is keeping a man who is not
on the register, showing it isn’t wanted to be
known. Now, every man has a tongue in his
head, or most have anyway, and every tongue
can wag some. So it works out that the fewer
fellows came in sight of Serrano, the less chance
there would be of the thing leaking out. If
there’s any part of the jail where a prisoner could
be put, and not be seen often, that is the spot
where the dumb man is. Let’s talk with the
plan.”
Temporel was interested. He came to look
over Aster’s Shoulder. The jail was built in the
shape of a rectangle, and surrounded by a high
adobe wall. From the main entrance there ran
a wide passage, from which radiated narrower
passages, on either Side of which the cells lay.
(That is to say the passages thirty feet from the
doorway, the front of the building being devoted
to bedrooms, living-rooms, and a refectory for
the guards.) The Governor lived in a separate
building bounded by, and abutting on the sur-
rounding wall of adobe.
0


210 THE MESH
“ See here,” said Aster, indicating with his
ﬁngers some cells in the north-west corner of
the jail, “there is a cell which is the last one
in the last passage at the back. That is the
left side, but there is a similar one on the right.
Serrano’s in one of them if he’s alive, as I guess
he is.”
Temporel shrugged. “ Even granting that,
what can be done?”
“Well, sir, if you’ve got to get something out
of a lock-up, you must just break in. I suppose
we couldn’t dope the guards?”
Temporel shook his head. “ I am afraid not.
If it were a question of two men, we might have
a shot at it. All the same, if we decide to make
any attempt on the jail—and I don’t like the
idea altogether—we might anonymously send
two or three cases of champagne to the guards.
The stuff need not be labelled, and your friend
of the store could send it with the provisions.
Whatever happened he would never see any
connection between breaking into the jail, and
sending champagne for the guards. Besides,
he wouldn’t even know it was champagne.”
“ That’s bully. We’ll do that anyway when
the time comes. Then, supposing we have a
clear ﬁeld, what is the plan of campaign? We


THE ONE WAY OUT 211
could cut steps in the ’dobe wall. But where’s
the Governor’s house? ”
“ To the right of the jail, and standing ﬁfty
yards back. \Ve could try the cell to the left.
According to the plan there are no guards’ rooms
looking to the rear; they lie to the front. I don’t
expect any of the prisoners would give us
trouble.”
“I guess not,” said Aster; “we would work
almighty quick. But before we butt into
that job, we must have a place where we
could hide Serrano, and we must arrange
for horses to be waiting outside the ’dobe
wall.”
“ That is easily arranged,” said Temporel
hopefully. “ The worst part will be making an
entry into the cell. I suppose they are always
closely barred? ”
“ So the jefe polilico said when he was talk-
ing to me. If all else goes well I could see to
that while you waited outside with the horses.
I’ve seen enough of burglar’s tools to know the
way they act. All I want is a dark night, black
as a nigger when the moon’s down, and about a
quarter of an hour’s heart to heart talk with those
bars. But I just see myself bursting into the
cell of some other fellow, and having to vamose


212 THE MESH
very quick. One thing, if I do get on to
Serrano, he won’t make any noise.”
“ We’ll do it,” cried Temporel; “if you think
the dumb man can tell us what we want to know,
we’ll do it. I tell you, Aster, I would take any
risk if I thought it would help me to prove to
the bank directors that their money was not lost
through my carelessness. There’s more hangs
on that than I can explain ” He stopped for
a moment, then added, “ José, the former bank
messenger, will come to your house to-morrow
morning very early. Arrange to have him let
in when he knocks. These people may be
watching us both ”
“ They’re watching you anyway,” said Aster,
“ so I’m going to ask the seﬁorita to let me out by
the back way. We haven’t got to meet in public
after this. I may turn up any time, so don’t be
surprised to see me here waiting. I have ar-
ranged all that with the lady.”
“ Very good. I think that is best. When
you see José you can ask him to be prepared to
ﬁnd us three horses any time on the quiet. I
think he is an honest fellow, and we might easily
help him if he is out of work still.”
“ Sure,” said Aster, rising. “ The pay-roll will
stand a few more dollars easy. As for the house


THE ONE WAY OUT 213
to store our dumb friend in, leave that to me.
I’ll go fossicking to—morrow a bit out of the town.
Well, I will run on now. Good night.”
He folded up the plan of the prison, and
stowed it in his pocket.
Temporel shook hands. “ Good night, Aster.
I think we are going to pull through.”
When Aster had gone, he sat down to think
and to smoke. He was elated—immensely
pleased with the prospect of taking active mea-
sures. Why had he not thought of this before,
instead of following a course which had lost him
Cynthia, and plunged him into the depths of
misery? But this was spilt milk. Before him,
in the future, hope brightened the horizon. If
only
There was something in the nature of their
concerted enterprise that appealed to the adven-
turous side, which, dormant or active, is in the
character of most men. The daring and auda-
city of the scheme was only equalled in propor-
tions by the risk attendant upon its execution.
If either he or Aster were caught breaking into
the jail, it would be impossible to explain that
they did it for a good motive. Neither England
nor the United States would oﬂicially espouse
their cause—the foreign jail-breaker is not


THE ONE WAY OUT 215
might make their attempt more difﬁcult. The
President might laugh at their theory; the Gov-
ernor might take steps to conceal the man before
an inspection was made of the jail.
Presently he got up, and moving over to the
window, peered out cautiously. At ﬁrst he could
see nothing, then, as his eyes grew more accus-
tomed to the gloom, he made out a dark ﬁgure
hiding in the recess of a doorway almost oppo-
site. Evidently someone was watching the
house; possibly tO notice who it was had visited
the Englishman, and was not aware that the
visitor had already left.
Temporel was angry. It was too ridiculous
that he should be followed and spied upon in
this way. For a moment he thought of taking
his pistol and going out to interview the spy,
but soberer counsels prevailed, and he returned
to his chair, to think over the plan of campaign.
“ We must release Serrano,” he said to him-
self, then paused, struck by an obvious idea.
For a moment he looked disconcerted. They
had forgotten one fact. Serrano was dumb.
He lighted a fresh cigar, and puffed at it irri-
tably. Something always seemed to come be-
tWeen him and success. But why had it not
occurred to Aster that their only possible wit-


216 THE MESH
ness was a silent one? Reﬂecting on that, he
came at once to the heart of the matter.
It was ridiculous, absurd that they had not
thought of it before. They could teach the
dumb man to write!


218 THE MESH
He had never met her face to face since that
terrible evening.
But his quick eyes had noted one fact: they
were not accompanied by John Carvel. Pos-
sibly the ﬁnancier was at home. Would it not
be well to call there, and see him before Cyn-
thia should return?
He acted upon the impulse. At the worst,
the girl’s uncle could only refuse to see him.
Temporel had formerly found him kindly and
tolerant. It was possible that he might be
granted an interview, and allowed to plead his
case. Surely the man could be made to under-
stand that only the loss of his position with the
concomitant knowledge of what might follow
upon it, had driven him to excesses. He would
swallow his pride, understanding that the excuse,
if very real, was still very feeble.
He took a tram to a spot near the house
rented by John Carvel, and stood, within a few
minutes, before the doors. A manservant an-
swered his knock, and in reply to a question,
said that the senor Carvel had just returned
from a visit to Don Estaban Torino, the banker.
He admitted him, and retired with Temporel’s
card.
The answer came quickly. “ The seﬂor


220 THE MESH
Carvel bowed. “ I have yet to learn that
drunkenness is so easily excused. Here my
niece is under my care, and she has learned, by
sad ocular demonstration, that you are intem-
perate. You humiliated us, sir, in our host’s
house.”
A look of keen pain came to Temporel’s face.
“ I shall never cease to regret it. I was a brute
—a savage—but think how I had been tried.
You will believe me, I hope, when I say that I
have not put a glass to my lips for some days,
and do not intend to do so again. Before I lost
my position in the bank, I was a very abstemious
man.”
“ So far as the latter part of your statement is
concerned, I believe that to be strictly true, Mr
Temporel ; as to the ﬁrst, I am Willing to take
your wor .”
“ Thank you, I hardly deserve your conﬁ-
dence. Let me explain, Mr Carvel. I must
try to put myself right with you. I don’t think
I am unreasonable in asking for a hearing.” _
Carvel looked at his watch, and relaxed some-
what the stiffness of his attitude. “ Very well,
I will give you ﬁfteen minutes more—if you
will consent to one condition? ”
“ To any,” said Temporel eagerly.


THE INTERVIEW 221
“It is this—you must not see or attempt to
communicate with my niece, Cynthia, until I give
you full permission to do so.”
“ I agree,” said Temporel without hesitation.
“ Sit down, and let me hear what you have to
say.”
Temporel took a seat, and ﬂushed, eager,
earnest, began his narrative. He told of the
robbery at the bank, of the useless efforts, made
ﬁrst by the police and continued by himself, to
trace the criminals; he went on to speak of the
cable from his directors, and of his own despair
when he was informed that he must resign his
position in the bank. From that he proceeded
to his own deterioration, forgetting and exten-
uating nothing, pleading, so impassionedly, and
so Sincerely, that John Carvel, a just man above
all things, was interested.
“ Try to put yourself in my place, Mr Carvel,”
he said, with a gesture of despair. “ I had spent
all my money in endeavouring to track the crim-
inals; I had been thrown out of employment by
the directors. It was, of course, possible for
me to return to England if I borrowed the pas-
sage money, but what could I do there? Per-
haps it was false pride, but I could not bear the
thought of returning to England a broken and


222 THE MESH
workless man; I couldn’t bear to face Cynthia
who had shared my hopes; I did not wish to
receive the spiteful condolences of malicious
people. So I stayed on, kept up by the hope
of securing a post under the Government here,
practically promised me by his Excellency, Don
Luis.”
“ Ah!” said Carvel, “ he did not tell me of
that.”
“ He wouldn’t,” said Temporel quickly.
“ He’s the soul of kindness, but he would not
go about openly boasting of his effort on my
behalf. I owe much to that man, Mr Carvel.”
“ Very good; continue, please.”
“I did not get the post. Local prejudices
were against the policy of giving posts to aliens.
Don Luis did his best, but, in the end, even he
had to give way. That sunk me deeper in the
mire. I got reckless. It seemed to me that I
had lost everything worth living for: Cynthia,
my self-respect, my prospects of advancement.
You have never been in my position; perhaps
you will not understand. I asked myself what did
anything matter. No one cared if I were drunk
or sober; if I rose or fell. What happened? I
wanted to forget, to live in a hazy dream, with
the past, and the present, even the future, put


AN INTERVIEW 223
completely out of my mind. I shall be frank
with you—I was in a fair way to become an irre-
deemable sot.”
John Carvel frowned a little, and looked
steadily at his companion. “ It seems to me
to show a certain weakness of temperament,” he
said slowly.
“It was weak—horribly, detestably weak!”
Temporel admitted, ﬂushing again. “ I see that
now, as I did not see it at the time. Then, Mr
Carvel, the President’s secretary came to me,
and told me that his Excellency wished to see
me. I had been drinking that day and went
just as I was—I shall never forget it. Surely,
surely, the President might have told me that
you and ”
“ He suggested that you should have warn-
ing,” said Carvel. “Apparently he knew the
facts, though he endeavoured to conceal them.
You were invited, without ceremony, at the sug-
gestion of my niece, Cynthia.”
Temporel sat back in his chair. Cynthia had
suggested it! The President would have warned
him. A dull red crept into his cheeks.
“ I can hardly believe it,” he said slowly. “ DO
you mean me to believe that Cyn—that your
niece intended me to betray myself?”


224 THE MESH
“ No, I am sure that was not her wish or
intention. Remember that she loved you, that
rumours had reached her ears. She trusted in
and believed in you so fully that she wished
to prove the baselessness of the rumours in the
most open way.”
Temporel grew calm again. His heart which
had begun to beat fast slowed to its normal.
“ Bless her! I was sure. Mr Carvel, I want you
to promise me something. I think I am on the
track of the thieves. If I can secure them, I
may be able to reason with the bank directors.
Possibly I might get reinstated. If I do that,
if I again take up my position as the manager
of the bank, will you allow me to go to Cynthia,
and ask her to forget what has passed? ”
Mr Carvel moved uneasily in his chair, and
glanced thoughtfully before him. Temporel’s
tones carried conviction. He was disposed to
regard the affair more lightly than he had done.
But there was Cynthia to be considered. She
did not look so lightly upon the offence. She
had the very proper, but very unyielding out~
look of youth. Her pride had received a blow.
“ It is not unreasonable,” continued Temporel.
“ I only ask for a chance.”
John Carvel rose. “ You shall have it if it is


THE INTERVIEW 225
within my power. Of course, my niece may re-
fuse to receive you; I cannot answer for her.
But, subject to the condition I mentioned, your
success in the matter of the inquiry will bring
you my assistance.”
“ Thank you. Are you going to stay long in
Santa Malua, Mr Carvel? I see that you have
rented this house? ”
“ I am not certain as to the length of my stay.
I could, of course, extend it, if there was any
good reason for my so doing.”
“ There may be—I think there will be.”
“ Well, if it happens so, I will make arrange-
ments.”
“ Thank you again.”
John Carvel once more glanced at his watch.
“I have given you twenty-ﬁve minutes. You
must go before my niece returns. She is out
driving with his Excellency. Good-bye. I
shall be glad to hear from you if anything
turns up.”
Temporel took up his hat but still lingered,
smiling uneasily.
“ Mr Carvel—tell me—does Cynthia——
still ”
“ I cannot say exactly. I am not an expert
Where a woman’s. heart is concerned. Appa-
?


226 THE MESH
rently, she has put you completely out of her
mind, but ”
Temporel leaned forward. “ Yes, yes? ”
“ But, I think—yes, I think you need not lose
hope.”
When Temporel left the house a minute later,
he felt as if he were walking on air.


CHAPTER XX
THE ATTACK ON THE JAIL
THREE days later, Aster came to Temporel.
They had met in the interim, but nothing of
especial notice had passed between them. ’ The
American was following up the lines of inquiry
made possible by his possession of the lists of
rurales present on the night of the bank rob-
bery; and Temporel had several times visited
the vicinity of the jail after dark had fallen, but
beyond this nothing had been done.
Temporel had just risen, and was busy shaving
in his bedroom, when the American knocked
lightly at the door, and entered.
“ Morning.”
Temporel turned, razor in hand, the upper
part of one cheek white with lather. He smiled
amusedly. “Jove! you’ve made an early start.
What’s up? ”
Aster sat down on the nearest chair. “ As kids
227


228 THE MESH
say in one of their games, we’re getting ‘ warm.’
- Yes, sir, we must be close on the tail of those
fellows. One was watching me all last night.
I couldn’t shake him off, and I couldn’t get him
in a corner. I took a paseo, and he kept in
touch with me all the way. Then I stopped in
a doorway, hoping to draw him near, and just
interrogate him. But he lay doggo. He’d been
in that sort of racket before, and knew there was
a dead-fall set for him. I got into the Gran’
Plaza, thinking I might get him under the big
lamps, but he waited until I came out again
before he hung on. Well, I wanted to see José
bad, but I knew I wasn’t going to get a show.
So I just had to go off to bed, stay indoors till
the fellow thought I had gone to bed, sneak
out when he had vamosed. I’ve been walk-
ing the streets since, in case those fellows
put someone on to my house when the
sun rose.”
Temporel ﬁnished shaving, put his razor away,
and began to get on his coat. ‘“ What’s the
plan for to-day? ”
Aster looked at him thoughtfully. “ Day’s
going to be blank. You’d as well lay in a stock
of sleep. I’ve hired a boat, and I’m going
ﬁshing.”


THE ATTACK ON THE JAIL’ 229
“ Oh, are you?” said Temporel, laughing.
“ What bait are you going to use?”
“ Modern scientiﬁc methods,” said Aster, grin-
ning. “ Oxy-acetylene plant, and a few ﬁles. I
shall be lying inshore as it gets dark.”
Temporel started. “ To-night, then?”
“ Sure,” said Aster. “ To-night’s the night.
There’ll be no moon till close on three o’clock.
You will have to make your plans too. As it
gets on, I’ll take the boat up towards that wreck
northwards. José left town yesterday, and he
is to meet us with three horses, inshore. Some-
one will sure to follow you, so you had better
come out quite openly, carry a lunch basket, and
make for the railway station. You can get a
ticket for Insinito. Ask for it as loudly as you
can without giving the idea away. From Insinito
you can get a train leaving at about six, and you
may get out at the last little station before you
come to the port. From there it’s only a mile
to the place where we meet, which should be in
a direct line eastwards of the wreck. There are
some good clumps of brush to guide you, and
if the light fails José or I will make a sound
to guide you—sea-gull talk would do. See?
Insinito is a good ninety miles out of Santa
Malua, and if you go by the train which doesn’t


230 THE MESH
stop, that’s the ten-thirty this morning—it’s all
odds no one will take the trouble to follow you
out of the station; of course, if some suspicious-
looking fellow takes train with you, you’ve got
to lose him somewhere.”
“ Shall I take my pistol?”
“ Oh, sure! You can always argue some with
a gun. Well, so long. I must beat it quick
now. See you later.”
“ Good-bye, and tight lines! ” said Temporel.
He caught the train to Insinito punctually,
and found himself spinning out of Santa Malua.
At the station he imagined he had observed a
man watching him from a little distance. It
was certain that the same man stood next him
as he purchased his ticket. Once in the train,
he would have liked to look out of the window
to see if this man was also going tO Insinito, but
he restrained the impulse, feeling that it would
be wiser to seem at his ease, as if he were going
on a mere holiday.
The bluff came off nevertheless. The
watcher saw his man into the train, waited until
it moved out of the station, then left the place,
and returned well satisﬁed to the town.
This, the best train of the day, took three
hours to cover the ninety miles. But Temporel


THE ATTACK ON THE JAIL 231
had brought some papers with him, and read
steadily for some time. He was alone in the
carriage, so, presently, he opened his harmless-
looking luncheon basket, and got out his pistol.
He cleaned and oiled it carefully, opened a
packet of cartridges, and pushed a handful into
a side pocket. Then he loaded ﬁve chambers
of his revolver, leaving the hammer down upon
a shell he had emptied of its contents. The
weapon he placed in the inner pocket of his
coat
Insinito he found a sleepy little town, nestling
under the shadow of the mountains. There was
the usual fonda, a pulperia, a few ill-kept
stores. Indians, half-breeds, and a few Mag-
yars made up the population. Temporel made
a rough lunch, then strolled out to the lower
slopes of the mountain, and read a paper, re-
clining on a tuft of sun-dried grass. Between
smoking and reading, the hours passed slowly.
As six came near, he rose and made his way to
the station, procured a ticket for the last stop
before the port of Santa Malua, and waited.
The train was twenty-ﬁve minutes late, but
nothing was thought of that on a railway where
trains had been known to start for a distant
station at the hour when they should have been


THE ATTACK ON THE JAII: 155
idea that his friends might catch the tiny ﬂare.
But the match went out and nothing had hap-
pened. On the still air, the sound of the sea
came to him, breaking in long rollers upon the
beach of grey sand, a monotonous and mournful
iteration. He began to feel anxious.
Then suddenly, to his right, a sea-gull
screamed; he turned to listen. It came again,
this time a little nearer. Temporel answered
with a passable imitation, and began to walk in
that direction. Four minutes later he met Aster
and José, both mounted, and leading a spare
horse.
“ That you, Mr Temporel? ” said Aster’s voice
out of the gloom; “ if it is, jump up. We’ve got
to ride like blazes, if we want to make a job of
it before the light comes—Jose, steady that
beast.”
“Right,” said Temporel, putting his hands
on the horse’s neck, and preparing to mount.
He got a foot into the bucket Stirrup. “ I got
through without being followed.”
“Same here,” said Aster, gathering up the
reins. “ I beached the boat and got half-ﬁlled
coming in. But José went out a bit into the
water on his horse, and took the end of the
painter—now then, let her hum! The way we


THE ATTACK ON THE JAIIJ 235
“ Right,” said Temporel shortly. “ We must
work in the dark I suppose?”
“ That’s so. But the screen is easily handled,
and the rest you can leave to me.”
They went on again, and presently the dark
mass of the high adobe wall prevented further
progress. Temporel and Aster dismounted,
giving the head ropes of their horses to José.
Aster unslung his bag, and assisted by Tem-
porel got down the oxy-acetylene plant. Then
the American proceeded to unwind a rope, which
was terminated by a pair of iron hooks. He had
evidently abandoned the idea of cutting steps in
the wall. No one spoke, as he took hold and
climbed the rope, the hooks of which he had
managed to fasten to the wall coping.
Sitting astride the wall, he agitated the rope,
and Temporel saw that he wished to pull up the
tools. He fastened them on quickly. Aster
drew them up with an effort, and began to lower
them down the other side. A burst of loud
singing from the jail at hand brought a smile to
his face.
He slipped down inside the wall, untied the
tools, and began climbing to the coping. The
rope was thrown over to Temporel, who grasped
it and was soon beside his companion. José


THE ATTACK ON THE JAIL 239
heavily. The socket above gave a little. This
had been the work of some knavish contractor
favoured by a venial Government. Aster and
Temporel became aware that the prisoner was
helping them. Each seized a bar, and bent it
inwards. They worked eagerly, quickly, putting
every ounce of energy they possessed into the
business. In another twenty minutes they had
laid hold of the prisoner’s arms, and were help—
ing him carefully through the opening. Still,
no one had come to disturb them.
The prisoner was not manacled, but his ankles
were secured by a light chain connecting two
rings. Once outside he seized Aster’s hand,
and, raising it, tapped it lightly on his lips. It
was Serrano after all. Aster communicated his
delight to Temporel by patting him lightly on
the back.
Without the exchange of a word, they raised
the dumb man, and carried him across the space
which lay between the jail and the surrounding
wall. They found the hanging rope, and Aster
mounted to the coping. Serrano was able to
use his hands, and with some assistance he was
got over the wall in safety. Aster and his com-
panion went back to the building to secure their
tools. In a few minutes they had rejoined José.


240 THE MESH
\
He came a few yards to meet them, and dis-
covered that they had effected their purpose.
Serrano being put down, he drew the attention
of the others to the spy, who was lying on the
ground without moving. Temporel ran his hand
over the mufﬂed head. Aster felt that the bind-
ings were secure, and again straightened him—
self.
“We have no time for him,” he said very
softly. “Get Serrano up at once. We must
go.,,
This was the ﬁrst sound he had permitted him-
self since they had approached the jail. The
dumb man was to travel on José’s horse, so the
latter mounted, and Aster hoisted the fettered
man to a place before him. The chain pre-.
vented him from sitting astride. Temporel put
the tools together and fastened them on his
horse and Aster’s. Both swung to saddle, and
the little cavalcade got into motion, leaving the
gagged man lying where José had thrown him.
“ What magniﬁcent luck!” said Temporel,
when they had put a mile between them and the
jail. “ We got him without much diﬂiculty. I
suppose that man was spying on us, eh, IJosé? ”
“ It seems so, seﬁor. It is a pity we did not
look at him.”


CHAPTER XXI
POSSIBILITIES
TWO days passed before Temporel again talked
with Aster. He had seen him once in the mean-
time, walking across one of the squares, but
from motives of caution he did not appear to
see him. He was a little perplexed all the
same at the turn events had taken. He won-
dered that the American had not called to
tell him where Serrano was in hiding. He
had at ﬁrst thought that he and Aster would
together take the dumb man to a place of
concealment.
Aster came into his room, about eight o’clock
in the evening, held out his hand, and smiled.
“Well, Mr Temporel, I guess you thought I
had deserted you altogether. As a matter of
fact, I have been playing tutor to that fellow we
have taken under our wing.”
“Where is he?” asked Temporel, shaking
' 242


POSSIBILITIES 243
hands. “ You forgot to tell me that when we
separated.”
Aster looked at him earnestly. “ Look here,
Mr Temporel, I would just as soon you didn’t
ask. He’s quite safe, but I can’t say where he
is. You won’t misunderstand me? I think it
wiser for the present to keep it to myself.”
Temporel frowned; then his face cleared.
“It all seems most mysterious, Aster,” he said
good-humouredly. “ I don’t see why I should
be left out of it, but, if you really think it wiser,
I agree. Are you teaching him to write?”
“ Trying to, say; it would be a real hard job,
only that he’s a man, and has observed things
as he went along. He’s bright, though. Of
course, I can’t take him out-of-doors, but I have
to feed him with pictures. I started with the
word ‘tree.’ I put it down in separate letters,
and showed him a tree in a picture. Then I
showed him two more trees, and put down the
word again for each. He tumbled to that
instant; turned to the window, pointed out a
palm, and then the word I had written. Then
I got the word ‘trunk,’ and showed him the
picture in an advertisement. He saw that, and
showed me the ﬁrst two letters in each word.
Then I wrote him down an alphabet, each letter


244 THE MESH
large, and set him to copy it. He seems to have
some faint idea of drawing, which helps him a
bit. Then I thought of the word ‘ bank,’ and
took some money out of my pocket, pretending
to pass it over the table. I wrote the word
‘ bank ’ and repeated the action. Well, he
smiled right away, and pointed to the word as
if he knew it. So I tried the Spanish equivalent
‘ banco,’ and he nodded furiously. I got hold of
a lot of illustrated English papers, and when
we’ve exhausted the pictures in those, I’d be
glad if you could let me have a few more, see?”
“ Can you draw, Aster?” asked Temporel.
“ You might try him with a sketch of a man
running away with some money. If he has
been trying all along to tell me of the bank rob-
bery that is certain to interest him.”
Aster shook his head. “I couldn’t draw a
goat’s grandmother,” he said—“ that is, a real
picture of one, but I can do kind of child’s copies.
I thought of that, and made a real scarecrow
with a big bag in each hand, and money coming
out of it. What d’ye think that galoot did?
Well, he just made one skip for the table, and
put his ﬁnger on the word ‘ banco.’ He’d got
on to the idea right there.”
Temporel was very eager now. “ Then he


POSSIBILITIES 145
did see something,” he cried. “ By Jove! we’re
getting nearer the heart of things.”
“ Seems so. Well, I pointed to the word, and
I pointed to my scarecrow pictures, and raised
my eyebrows as high as I could. He saw that I
was asking a question, so I gave him a paper
to answer it on. The thing he drew was mar-
vellously like a 1urale—”
“ That refers, of course, to the men who
formed a cordon round the bank,” said Tem-
porel, somewhat disappointed. “ By-the-way,
did you get hold of any of the men on the list
I got for you? ”
“ All except three,” said Aster briskly. “I
can’t put my ﬁnger on them yet. It seems to
me that they went out of town soon after—but
I was telling you about Serrano. He was very
sure about that rurale being my scarecrow with
the money. He kept pointing from one to the
other, and making great play with his hands.
Say, I’m going to have a good look at some of
the mmles to-morrow. I’ve got an idea. The
whole business has a solution, but it seems
too darned simple to be true.”
Temporel suddenly gripped him by the arm.
“ My Heavens, man!don’t keep me in suspense.
What is it?”


246 THE MESH
“ You’ll hear pretty soon,” said Aster. “ I
reckon to run in on you about this time the day
after to-morrow, and I’ll bring José. You shan’t
have to wait a minute more’n I can help. But
I am surely not going to give your hopes a boost
up, only to ﬁnd that I’ve been called on a bluff.
Now, I’m going. Don’t worry yourself. I’m
beginning to talk to myself, and things are going
to happen. So long.”
Temporel saw that his mind was made up.
He must be patient, he told himself. “ All right.
If you must be mysterious—don’t fail me
though.”
Aster winked solemnly and lewly. “ No, I
think not,” he said.
He was as good as his word. On the second
evening after that, he appeared with José in
Temporel’s rooms, and greeted the latter in a
cheerful voice.
“ Here we are, Mr Temporel. We got
through slick enough—sit down, José, and have
a cigar. We want you to tell us all about the
night of the affair at the bank. See? ”
“ Very well, senor,” said José, seating himself
difﬁdently.
Aster took a chair, and sat across it, his arm
leaning on the back. “ N ow then, we know the


POSSIBILITIES 247
rurales wakened you up, and the Intendente
asked you to come out and palaver. After that
you were sent to the cavalry barracks. Who
was that message for?”
“ For the General Mayoro.”
“ Right, and what did he say? ”
“ He said, ‘ Tell his Excellency I shall send
ten troopers.’ ”
“ Did he say where he would send them?”
“ No, senor. Hastily, he said what I have
told you.”
“Did the message say anything about the
troopers’ destination? ”
“ No, senor—or rather, I did not see the mes-
sage. It was given to me in an envelope.”
Aster half-started up. His face grew excited.
“In an envelope. You mean to say that the
fellow had it all ready in an envelope? That
shows that it was premeditated.”
Temporel stared at him, tense and eager.
“ My dear fellow! you don’t think the Inten-
dente had anything to do with it? ”
“I don’t think anything, but I’ll swear it!
Look here, the fellow called José out the
moment the bank doors were opened. He sent
him off with a message the moment José had
left his post.”


248 THE MESH
Temporel resumed his usual expression.
“ Yes, but you forget that the message came
from his Excellency, and the latter had received
information that some men had secreted them-
selves in the bank. It is probable that his
Excellency had given the envelope to the
Intendente to send off earlier, but the latter
forgot it.”
Aster bit his lip: “ One to you, Mr Temporel;
still, it looks ﬁshy. Those troopers never turned
up.”
Temporel shrugged. “ That also is explain-
able. If the sending of the message was
delayed, by the time the troopers would be on
their way the rurales had ﬁnished their search,
and found no one—I mean the fellows who were
with his Excellency. Of course, the rurales
were waiting outside.”
Aster lighted a long cigar, and looked thought-
fully at the ﬂoor. “Yes, it seems to me I
jumped a bit sudden. What you say goes in
this case. Still, there’s no harm in my looking
the thing up. I must ﬁnd out the name of the
Intendente who was in charge.”
“ As you please. But your theory seems to
me to verge on the ridiculous. I thought for
a moment that you had discovered the whole


POSSIBILITIES 249
secret. Never mind, we may come at it some
other way.”
Aster was chagrined, but he soon smiled again,
and puffed cheerfully at his cigar.
“ What about Serrano?” asked Temporel
curiously.
“Well, he gets on slowly. I am wondering
if the Intendente would dress differently from
the other men. I didn’t think of observing that
simple point. I can’t think why.”
“ Of course he does,” said Temporel. “I
could not tell you off-hand the points of differ-
ence, but I am quite sure they exist. Why do
you want to know?”
“Well, because when Serrano did his child’s
picture of a rurale, he drew a kind of uniform.
If that is the dress of an Intendente, and Serrano
put it in on purpose, I think we have some clue.”
“ My dear fellow, the Intendente idea is quite
an obsession with you. Serrano may have
drawn it in that way with no deﬁnite idea of
suggesting the rank; and we can’t tell that very
well. But, presuming your hypothesis to be
the right one, how does it square with the letter
from his Excellency?”
“ Nothing easier if the fellow was really a
Crook. He could have forged a letter, knowing


250 THE MESH
the General would be just out of his sleep, and
probably reading it in a bad light. Yes, sir,
that’s easy.”
Temporel reﬂected. “ A confoundedly auda-
cious scheme, since he knew the President was
with me upstairs. But why should he send for
troopers in any case? ”
“ To send José on an errand which would
keep him out of his way. Ten to one he faked
a letter beforehand, told his Excellency that he
had received some information about some men
being in the bank, and suggested that they should
send to catch them after nightfall. He would
tell the President that the men had probably
secreted themselves in some upper rooms, be-
cause José slept below. I found out all the
names of the rurales in the cordon, except three.
They seem to have vamosed. Now, if those
fellows were paid hands of the Intendente’s ”
He stopped, and looked triumphantly at Tem-
porel.
The latter shook his head. “ Your theory is
quite delightful, and quite improbable,” he said.
“ No man would dare to do such a thing know-
ing that at any moment the President might come
down and discover them at their wor .”
Again Aster looked disappointed. “ Say,


POSSIBILITIES 255
sure. You saw farther into a brick wall than
I did ”
Temporel became calmer. “All right, just
one thing. If you go to the place where you
have hidden Serrano, he may watch you.”
“ I don’t care if he does,” said Aster, smiling
mysteriously. “ He wouldn’t dare to go where
I put Serrano, if he wanted to ever so badly.
Well, I must just get on his track as quickly
as possible. José and I will sling our hook.
Good-bye; I’ll be in again to-morrow likely.”
When both had gone, Temporel thought he
would go for a stroll. He wanted to be out in
the fresh air, to give his mind to the considera-
tion of the solution to the perplexing problem.
Success seemed at last in sight. In a few
weeks, possibly a few days—he drew a hard
breath, and his heart beat fast.
He took himself to the Gran’ Plaza. Again
the band was playing there. Walking quietly
among the crowds, smoking his cigar, he came
presently opposite the palacio of his Excellency,
the President. He looked up wistfully at the
windows. It was there that he had been humili-
ated; it was there he had lost Cynthia. The
windows were ablaze with lights now, on the
upper ﬂoors. It almost seemed as if his Ex-


254 THE MESH
cellency were giving some entertainment. An
occasional ﬁgure passed the windows; he would
see the white shoulders of a woman, the black
coat of a man, and, presently, as he looked,
two people came out to the wrought-iron balcony
overhanging the square, and rested their arms
on the balustrade, looking out across the plaza
towards the central band—stand. With a pang
he recognised one. It was Cynthia. The
other was his Excellency, Don Luis.
Temporel drew back into a little group of
people, his face still turned toward the balcony.
The President was talking earnestly with Cyn-
thia. He approached a pace nearer to her,
looked down into her face, touched, in some
gesture, her arm with his ﬁngers. It was, of
course, impossible to hear what they were say-
ing, but the sight somehow stirred Temporel
strangely. The blood rushed to his face; he
held his hands tightly clenched. After all, what
right had he now, what claim to control her
actions? He had lost her, he told himself
bitterly, endeavouring vainly to forget that the
past two weeks had found all his old hopes
revive.
It was a very bitter moment. He thought of
Don Luis, still under middle age, handsome, in-


POSSIBILITIES 255
gratiating of manner, polite and tactful. Was
it possible? The thought stung him like the lash
of a whip.
It seemed to him that the band, playing just
beyond, was thundering in hideous discordance.
The music overﬂowed his ears in a dissonant
riot of sound. The sound engulfed him, beat in
his ears until he felt that he must stop them
with his hands.
Had he lost her Completely, for all time? Had
she not a little love left for him? He could not
bring himself to believe that she had so fully
put him out of her mind. He had loved her
once; he still loved her. Nothing, he told him-
self, could have altered that. She could not fall
so low but that he would still love her. Was
love such a triﬂe that it could be forgotten, wiped
out, disregarded?
On the balcony above, Don Luis had given
his arm to Cynthia, and together they passed
into the lighted salon. Temporel felt as if night
had descended upon all his senses. Then a
voice from the group near struck his ears like
a clap of thunder. It was not a loud voice, but
to him it seemed the shouting of a Stentor.
“ Ah! our President has excellent taste.
Everyone is talking about it. She is an Inglesa,


256 THE MESH
you understand; the heiress of her uncle, one of
these English millionaires. Charming, indeed,
and very graceful is the girl. You observed
how his Excellency appeared with her on the
balcony just now? Yes, we think that will be a
match.”
Temporel felt momentarily faint. He put up
a hand to his throat, raised his chin with an un-
easy movement. Then he brushed the group
rudely aside, and went blindly out of the square.


CHAPTER XXII
CARMENCITA Is WARNED
THE seﬁorita Carmencita Pensol did not ﬁnd
time hang heavy on her hands. She was an
inveterate gambler, and, if she sometimes
grumbled that the tables were closed on an
absurdly small limit, generally the fortunes
of the mimic war between the croupiers
and herself left only a small margin for or
against.
During her stay at Piedraoles, she permitted
a youthful Ofﬁcer of that brilliantly uniformed
and highly inefﬁcient force, the Coquibian Army,
to act as her cavalier—a post of honour which
involved the payment of small debts, the trans-
portation of the beauty’s impedimenta, and the
right to be scolded and screamed at on Slight
provocation. The advantage (there was only
one, and that of doubtful value) lay in the right
to be seen in public places with a woman,
257 R


262 THE MESH
the voice of rumour. It seemed to him also
that there was something intimate, something
which seemed to go a shade beyond mere friend-
liness, in the President’s attitude when he stood
on the balcony speaking to Cynthia.
To keep him in this unsatisfactory state, there
was the fact that as yet Aster’s investigations
had not elicited anything further with regard to
the thieves. If it had been possible to move
openly, the affair could have been expedited,
but it was difﬁcult to know how many spies
followed, and equally difﬁcult to proceed with-
out arousing suspicion.
On the day following the elopement of the
seﬁorita Pensol, with her fascinated youth, he
had spent most of the day in the open air, read-
ing in a desultory way, and pondering dejectedly
upon the parlous state of his affairs. After
supper, he went out again, and found himself
wandering in the direction of the suburb in which
John Carvel had rented a villa. It was half-
chance—half-prompted by a lovesick desire to
look at the house where Cynthia lived. He
meant only to look at it as dark drew on, and
then to return home.
As the light of day suddenly ﬂed, he advanced
down the road in which the villa stood, and en-


264 THE MESH
appeared, and, crossing the road, went directly
to John Carvel’s villa.
Temporel was startled. What business had
the man there?
He came back again swiftly and silently.
Aster had disappeared into the garden sur-
rounding the house.
Temporel listened. The footsteps had died
away, but a moment later he heard the sound
of a door opening, a murmur of voices, and a
shufﬂing. Then the door closed with a sharp
thud.
Temporel was genuinely perplexed. What
Aster wanted with John Carvel was a question
he found himself quite unable to answer. He
was not even aware that the two men had met,
and Aster had not mentioned the fact in any
conversation. For a moment, the idea crossed
his mind that Carvel might have paid Aster to
spy upon him, but that notion was absurd.
What then? He waited for some time to see if
Aster would emerge again from the grounds sur-
rounding the villa, but waited in vain.
Returning slowly to the little house in the
calle de los Vapores, he kept a cautious look-
out. If he ran across Barriga, he would know
that their theory held good. But no one was


266 THE MESH
stared in amazement. Then he picked up the
gem, and began to examine it carefully.
It was a ﬁne stone, exquisitely cut and of the
ﬁnest water. Who had sent this to him? What
could be the motive? It was improbable that
an unknown friend had designed it for a present.
Possibly the slip of paper would give some
directions, or, at least, explain the presence of
the gem. He took it up, and found, on the side
which lay next the table, some writing. It was
apparently in a disguised hand, ﬁrst with a back-
slant, afterwards upright, as if the writer had
found it rather an effort to pen the words in this
fashion. It ran thus:—
“ Things that Exist.”
“ There are four prisoners in Puerto Pelos.
“ There is a criminal museum in Santa
Malua.
“ There are ten troopers.”
There was nothing more than that, and, as he
read, Temporel’s expression became slightly be-
wildered. What had he to do with criminal
museums, and troopers? Could this be an
attempt to hint at the identity of the bank
thieves? He was inclined to think so.
He looked again at the diamond, and won-


268 THE MESH
true to me; I know that not all the wealth of
England would come between us.
“ You will reassure me, dear friend, will you
not? You will tell me that it is all false? If I
do not hear from you—but no, that will be impos-
sible, for I start for Santa Malua at once—if I
do not see you when I arrive, I must visit this
Inglesa, and learn from her own lips that you
do not trouble her with your attentions. As you
love me, meet me to—night at ten o’clock at the
deserted estancia on the Otaque road. I shall
be there with open arms to welcome you, my
lover.
“ Your distracted but adoring
“ CARMENCITA.”
Temporel felt ashamed then that he had read
this private note. But, after all, the address
had been written in a ﬁrm hand, which showed
that the sender had been in no doubt as to the
destination of the packet. Also the letter to
his Excellency contained no mention of the
diamond.
As he thought over it, the obvious reference
to Cynthia sank deep into his brain. This Car-
mencita was evidently a discarded ﬂame of Don
Luis, and even at Piedraoles she had heard of
the latter’s devotion to the English girl. Tem-


CARMENCITA IS WARNED 269
porel ﬂushed with anger. Why should Cyn-
thia’s name be bandied about by envious or
jealous women. Did she know that the Presi-
dent was on the friendliest terms With a woman
who could address him as “ My adored Luis ”?
The respect which he had felt for the President
diminished considerably, and with that there
entered a tinge of jealousy.
Putting minor things aside, he considered the
matter from every point of view. He could not
now hand on to Don Luis a letter which had
come so openly into his hands. Yet it hinted
at annoyance for Cynthia, if the former did not
keep the appointment at the estzmcia. He
would have done much to avoid this, but the
way was not clear. What had been the inten-
tion of the sender? It was just possible that the
latter was the woman who wrote the letter, and
that she had by mistake enclosed the diamond
in the slip of paper. But that hinted that she
was a confederate of the bank thieves.
For the moment, Temporel gave it up in
despair. He placed the sparkling gem in his
pocket-book, together with the slip. The letter
he placed in his pocket. Aster would soon
come again. He must consult him before taking
action.


CHAPTER XXIII
ASTER SPRINGS A SURPRISE
HIS sleep was somewhat disturbed that night,
his brain was too active. Confused thoughts,
mental pictures, suggestions, and plans ﬂowed
in an uneasy tide. The diamond, the letter, the
woman called Carmencita, seemed jumbled up
in some vague and ridiculous manner. At
earliest dawn he was fully awake, and lay staring
up at the ceiling in the ﬁrst faint light of day,
thinking and debating.
At six o’clock there came a gentle tap at
the door. He raised himself in bed and said,
“ Come in.”
Aster appeared, smiling. “ Say, you didn’t
expect me so early. My apologies, Mr Tem-
porel. I’ve got some mighty good news for you
this time.”
Temporel got out of bed and slipped on a
dressing-gown “ I am very glad to hear it,” he
27o


272 THE MESH
“ Oh, sure. I found after a lot of bother that
the man was no longer in the rurales.”
Temporel was disappointed. “ Just our luck!
We get on to a thing one moment, and the next
we ﬁnd that it is of no importance.”
“ But it’s mighty important. I didn’t quit
when I got into shoal water. I went ahead full
speed, and cleared the bar without damaging a
plate. I got on to the trail of the Intendente
who left. I would take a considerable time to
tell you how I went at it, so we’ll out that, and
come to our point.”
“ Do, please. I’m on tenterhooks to hear——
did you ﬁnd out the name of the man? ”
Aster struck his hand sharply on his knee.
“ Yes, the Intendente on the night of the
robbery was Barriga! ”
Temporel opened his eyes widely. “ You’re
sure of that—quite sure? I thought that I had
seen him somewhere before the ﬁrst time he
came to see me. Good Heavens! is it possible?
The scoundrel robbed the bank while he was
supposed to be in charge of the rurales outside,
and then he returned to play detective, and kept
me back while he took my money. What a
muddle-brained idiot I mqu have been not to
see through him ”


ASTER SPRINGS A SURPRISE 273
“ Oh, he’s right smart,” said Aster seriously.
“ The confounded blackguard! ” cried Tem-
porel hotly. “ Yes, I suppose he is. But we’ve
got him now.”
“ We’re going to, I guess. That’s one of the
ﬁrst jobs I’ve laid out for us. You can get him
here on any excuse, and we’ll ﬁx him.”
Temporel walked agitatedly up and down the
room. “ It ﬁts in like a jig-saw puzzle,” he said.
“ The three rurales who left the town ”
“ Four—I found that out yesterday.”
“ The four then. Next Barriga’s retirement
from the rurales and his spying on us both—
then that appearance outside the walls of the
jail, when we went for Serrano. You must have
noticed, by the way, that the papers haven’t a
single word about the escape of a prisoner or
the discovery of a man tied up outside. That
omission is suggestive.”
“ There’s no doubt about it. I have got him
to rights. He was in charge that night.”
“ Well, what’s your plan of campaign? ”
“Just what I said. We must get him here,
and then put the fear of death into him. I
believe he will come if you write saying that you
intend to renew the inquiry. Leave him to me
after that. He’s got to tell all he knows, and
s


ASTER SPRINGS A SURPRISE 275
He turned to Aster, wrinkling his brows a
little. “I say, there is something I wish you
would explain.”
“ What I can, yes.”
“ It’s this—I don’t want you to imagine I was
spying on you—”
“ You can just bet I won’t,” said Aster,
glancing at him quickly.
Temporel, after a moment’s hesitation, told
him of his visit to the road in which John Carvel
had taken a villa, of his waiting under the porchr
and his surprise upon seeing the American him-
self approach and enter the hOuse.
“I hope you won’t think me unduly curious
if I ask you what you were doing there?” he
added.
Aster ﬁrst frowned, then smiled. “No, it
seems to me you’ve got a kind of option there.
The thing wasn’t meant to come out, but, since
you ask, it’s only fair to myself to tell you.
Besides, it doesn’t matter a cent now.”
“ Very good; I should like to know.”
“ It’s this way, Mr Temporel. I handed you
out the truth when I said I was a Pinkerton
agent; also, when I allowed that I was after
a Spanish boodler who had given me the slip
ten years ago. But I didn’t let on that I had


276 THE MESH
another commission, because it was up to me on
the agreement to keep shut teeth over it; see!
Professional curiosity drew me a bit, but a salary
drew me more. There was someone in Santa
Malua who began to suspect after a bit that you
hadn’t had a square deal. This person was put
wise to the fact that you were cleaned out, hav-
ing spent your last dime in the chase. The
same individual didn’t quite see you white, but
thought, anyhow, since you were an English-
man, and, in a sort of way, interesting in one
quarter, you should be given a chance to
win out.”
“ I see.”
“ That being so, this person happened to hit
on me as likely to do the business, and I was
offered a regular salary, with a bonus to follow if
the thing panned out as we expected. Your
telling me that the rurales were after Serrano
just after you met him, ﬁrst put me on the track.
I reckoned that he had been seen semaphoring
to you to try and explain who broke the bank.
I knew someone thought to hide the fellow
away before he let out what he knew. As a
matter of fact, I believe that he saw the stuff
being handed out of the bank that night,
otherwise how did he point out the Inten-


CHAPTER XXIV
AMAZEMENT
FOR a full minute Temporel did not speak. A
tide of joy surged through his brain. He had
hopes still, then; Cynthia had not quite given
him up. John Carvel had disregarded mere
appearances; he thought that the girl’s associa-
tion with Don Luis was only a matter of pique,
or, rather, of wounded pride, dictating a course
which she would not have followed in normal
circumstances.
How good he had been. Without his anony-
mous backing, Temporel could not have prose-
cuted the inquiry.
“ But,” he said, presently, staring at Aster,
“ I don’t think it was wise to leave Serrano in
Carvel’s house. You seem to go there openly.
You may have been followed and watched.”
“ What then?” asked Aster, shrugging.
“ Serrano is ofﬁcially dead. The President
278


AMAZEMENT 279
himself told you that he had committed suicide
in prison. Suppose they discover him, and ask
us to produce him—well, people will want to
know why he was kept in jail, and the rumour of
his death put about.”
“ That only applies to Barriga, and perhaps
the Governor, my dear fellow. They must have
told the President that, so that it would reach
my ears.”
Aster was silent for a moment. “ Who recom-
mended Barriga to you?” he asked then.
“ His Excellency did.”
“ Quite so-—since Barriga had been the
Intendente, ’Don Luis must have known him.”
“ Certainly. The President, as you know,
came to the bank with the Intendente that
night Wait a bit—I got a very odd letter
yesterday evening; I’ll show it to you.”
Aster held out an eager hand. “’We’re
moving some.”
Temporel handed him the letter signed
“ Carmencita,” and watched him as he read it.
Aster smiled as he proceeded, and a triumphant
light came into his eyes.
“ O.K.,” he said brieﬂy when he had ﬁnished.
“ But why was it addressed to me? ”
“ That’s easy—we’ll go into that later ”


AMAZEMENT 283
“ Right,” said Aster, who had been looking
over his shoulder; “ that’ll fetch him sure.”
“ Very good; you can post it when you go
out, Aster. In the meanwhile I shall be glad
if you will tell me what is the meaning of that
letter, and why it was addressed to me—your
theory about it, anyway.”
Aster looked surprised. “Say, you don’t
know Carmencita Pensol, and you’ve been
living here for quite a long spell? ”
“I may have heard the name, but I can’t
place it.”
_“ Well, as the letter suggests, this seﬁorita
was a ﬂame of Don Luis. They were as thick
as thieves, sir, until Miss Carvel came on the
boards. Then Carmencita was sent off to
Piedraoles. Naturally, being a jealous woman,
and having dear friends, some of them let on
that his Excellency is casting the glad eye at the
Inglesa, and Carmencita is on hot plates. She
knows she can’t get back on the fellow straight,
because he’s got power enough to have her put
in the fort if she turns rusty; so, instead, she
sends the diamond to you, and the slip giving
the show away.”
Temporel laid his hand heavily on Aster’s
shoulder. “ Think what you’re saying. You


284 THE MESH
charge, by inference, the President with being
an accomplice in the bank robbery. You
suggest that the diamond is from one of the
stolen ornaments.”
Aster rose. “I do a heap more,” he said
decidedly; “I say that it is one of the stones,
and I say that his Excellency is not the
accomplice, but the principal!”
“‘ I can’t believe it! ” cried Temporel thickly;
“ why, he was most kind to me. He did more
for me than any other man before you came
on the scene.”
“ Oh, he did for you, sure! ” said Aster.
“ Nonsense! He came to the bank to ﬁnd
out—but that’s not all. He promised me a post
under the Government and ”
“ Did you get it? ”
Temporel started and frowned. “ That wasn’t
his fault. Local prejudice ”
“ Local lime-juice! the fellow simply put you
through it. He’s a clever devil. Look here, sir!
Did the President say anything when you were
searching the upper rooms at the bank? ”
“ Say what?”
“ Well, did he keep you up there when you
wanted to go down and see if the safes were
all right?”


AMAZEMENT 285
“ He—yes, he did.”
“ What was he doing in the uniform_ of the
rurales that night? ”
Temporel glanced about him uneasily. “I
can’t say.”
“ Well, I can! How was it that the letter for
General Mayoro was written ready, and went
in an envelope? Why didn’t the troopers come
to the bank? For reasons good. It seems that
they just came into the town that night to take
the four men who did the job to Puerto Pelos
fort when the business was ﬁnished. Shall I
tell you the kindnesses Don Luis showed you? ”
Temporel looked dazed. He had been duped,
befooled. “ Go on.”
“ He kept you from seeing what his men were
doing with your safes; he had the bank looted,
and gave the jewels to his inamorata ; be
prevented you from seeing anything by recom-
mending Barriga, who took your money, and
saw that you heard nothing good. That’s not
all; he kept you quiet, by making promises,
until he knew you had no cash to go on. Then
your girl came out, and I’ll lay any Odds he told
the uncle, in his sly way, that you were drunken
and dissolute. Yes, sir, he’s been putting his
ﬁnger in your eye and keeping it there.”


AMAZEMENT 287
quite right, too, about the President; I must
not show up badly to Miss Carvel. He will
have to stand his punishment in another way.”
“ Yes, we are going f0 dictate terms.”
“ Any preparations to make? ”
“ Yes; I’ll send the letter to his Excellency.
You had better make up a couple of serviceable
gags and a couple of strong mufflers. We’ll
ﬁnish the job to-night. Have your pistol in
order.”
“ I will. I think you had better go now. You
may ﬁnd some difﬁculty in making inquiries.
When will you come here again?”
Aster rose and picked up his hat. “ Barriga
will be here at two, so I must come before that.
Well, till I see you again. Things are going to
happen, and don’t you forget it.”
“ I shan’t,” said Temporel, smiling for the ﬁrst
time during the conversation. “ Good-bye.”


CHAPTER XXV
BARRIGA TALKS
ASTER did not return to the calle de los Vapores
until twenty to two. He looked excited, almost
as much so as Temporel, who had been im-
patiently awaiting his arrival, fearing that some-
thing must have gone amiss.
“ I’ve got it! ” he said hurriedly. “ The tools
belonged to four fellows who aren’t in the jail.
Then I saw the do'ﬁa, and she identiﬁed the
Stone at once. I made her promise not to talk
about it till we allowed Her. I can tell you she
was pleased to think the beggars were going to
get their gruel.”
“ Good!” said Temporel. “ Now, we must
get ready for the arrival of our friend; when he
knocks, I shall go down to let him in. The
seﬁorita and the old woman have gone out. You
must stay in my bedroom when he comes up.
I’ll put the chair with its back to that door. My
288


290 THE MESH
He opened the door and faced Barriga. The
man was smiling; greeted him with effusion.
“ Senor, I am glad that you have decided to
renew the search.”
“ Yes, it is wiser. The seiiorita with whom
I lodge is out just now. Will you come up to
my room, where we can talk quietly?”
“ Certainly, senor.”
Temporel preceded him upstairs, his heart
beating fast. They entered the room, and he
seated himself at the table, motioning Barriga to
the chair facing away from the bedroom door.
Now that the moment had come, he confessed
to himself that he felt nervous about the outcome.
If the man refused to speak—but the next
moment he pulled himself together, and began:
“I have decided to renew the search. You
can assist me better than anyone else.” As he
spoke he put his hand under the table; his
ﬁngers closed about the butt of the pistol. He
slid it on his knee and paused for a moment.
Then he lifted it quickly and levelled it at the
other. “ Barriga, please put both your hands
on the table! Quick! And don’t speak loudly,
or I shall shoot at once.”
Barriga made a quick movement; his face
paled, but he put both his hands palm upwards


BARRIGA TALKS 291
on the table. “ Seﬁor,” he whispered, “what
have I done?”
“What is your name,” asked Temporel, as
softly; he knocked once on the table.
“ Seﬁor, it is, of course, Barriga ./ ”
The bedroom door had opened. “You’re a
liar—it’s Bazan! ” said a quiet voice behind
him.
Barriga half-turned his head, but did not move
his body, conscious of the menace of the pistol
barrel opposite. Aster came round the table,
and threw upon it a photograph, rather soiled,
but still quite a passable likeness of the man
who sat white and silent before him.
“ That you, Bazan? The beard you’ve grown
puzzled me a bit.”
Barriga, or Bazan, found his voice. “ It’s not
true, senor, and I demand to be released.”
“ I’ll prove it’s true, if I have to shave you,”
said Aster conﬁdently. “ As for release, well,
you may think yourself lucky if you get off with
your bare life. Listen to me; I won’t stop at
anything to get the information I want. Here
is my gun.” He drew a pistol and aimed it.
“ We want a confession, and we’re going to get
it. I can tell you everything you did in the
bank affair, if that’ll convince you. You were


294 THE MESH
ﬁnd a fellow like this in every gang—that’s
where we have them beat most times.”
Temporel returned with two sheets of fool-
scap, and a fountain pen.
“ Now, Barriga, or Bazan, put down every-
thing you know about the affair. Your part in
it, the—” a shade ﬂitted across his face, and
his mouth grew sterner—“ the President’s part
in it. You must take your oath to it afterwards,
and sign it in the presence of Mr Aster and
myself as witnesses.”
“ I am familiar with the composition of these
things,” said Bazan carelessly, as he took up the
pen and began to write. “ You will ﬁnd this
quite a good legal document. Perhaps you will
allow me to smoke?”
Temporel silently pushed him a cigar-box, and
sat down in the chair facing him. Aster stood
behind the man, and looked over his shoulder.
For a quarter of an hour there was no sound in
the room but the hiss of the pen, soft and sibilant,
an occasional sigh, that suggested ennui from
Bazan; the distant noises of the street came like
a dreamy hum. ‘
Presently Bazan put down the pen, and sat
back in his chair.
“It is ﬁnished,” he said brieﬂy, taking a


296 THE MESH
stairs now to fetch the tray the seﬁorita left for
me. You will ﬁnd a bottle of wine in the corner.
Just keep your eye upon him till I return.”
Bazan’s possible anxiety had not diminished
his appetite. He ate a full meal, drank half a
bottle of wine, and lay down on the sofa. “It
is a pity that I shall not be able to smoke,” he
said in a tone of genuine regret.
Then Aster bound and gagged him, and ten
minutes later he and Temporel went out. They
locked the door behind them.


298 THE MESH
instinct for the psychological moment, had ﬁxed
upon this evening for the proposal which must
secure for him the hand of the Englishwoman,
and more important in the future, the money-
bags of the Englishman.
The rough fragments of the verbal bomb now
ﬂew among these plans.
It was too late to postpone the function.
Some of the guests were coming in from distant
estancias, some from the coast towns. It was
too late to communicate with them. The letter
had ﬁxed the appointment for ten o’clock, at the
deserted buildings on the Otaque road. The
guests were to arrive at eight.
The rendezvous lay at a distance of some three
leagues. A good horse could cover the distance
in three quarters of an hour, and, allowing for
half an hour’s interview, he could leave his
residence at a quarter past nine, and return ata
quarter past eleven. In that interval someone
must take his place, and fulﬁl the duties of host.
It could be arranged.
As the evening drew near, he felt uneasy.
What would the woman say to him? How was
he going to rid himself of her? It was too late
to go back now—too late. The woman must be
silenced. His face grew dark. In a career of


THE ASSIGNATION 299
polite knavery, of smooth deceit, of suave and
discriminating roguery, he had never over-
stepped the line which separates the two classes
of criminals.
He went now to his private sanctum, and
took down a trophy of arms. He selected a
Mexican knife, felt the blade, and thrust it into
a deep pocket. For a moment his hands
dropped, and he stared vacantly before him. He
was thinking of Carmencita Pensol as he had
known her.
Then he recovered himself, and left the
armoury. A black mood had taken possession
of him. The buildings of the estancia were
deserted; at ten it would be quite dark.
He received his guests with his usual urbane
manner, bowed over Cynthia’s hand, cordially
greeted John Carvel, who seemed to regard him
with a dubious expression. He was at the heart
of the gaiety of the early evening. His laugh,
discreet and mellow, could be heard where the
pulse of life beat fastest; his handsome face
smiled appreciation, softened at a woman’s word,
became diplomatically serious as he spoke to one
of his ministers. Then he went out.
A horse was waiting for him in the patio. He
wore a poncho, and had put on long leather


300 THE MESH
riding-boots over his evening trousers. As the
peon stood back, he put in the spurs, and can-
tered quickly out of the gateway.
The country across which he rode, presently,
was open and undulating; patches of green,
brown, purple, with here and there the bright
colour notes of the ﬂowers, mixed and mingled,
variegating the tawny grasses. Before him, the
dun masses of the hills were beginning to glow
as the sun hurried redly towards the horizon.
But Don Luis rode on, his eyes ﬁxed ahead, his
mouth set resolutely, regardless of the beauty
of the scene. He spurred savagely, while the
dust-clouds rose under the hoofs of his horse,
ﬂoating backwards in drab wreaths in the light
breeze that came across the campo. And
presently, he approached the deserted estancia
on the Otaque road.
This estancz'a, abandoned by a rancher who
spent a lifetime and a fortune in useless litiga-
tion, was very pleasantly situated amongst
paraiso and orange trees; a grove of tall euca-
lyptus ﬂanked it on one side. The buildings
had once been covered with pink stucco, now
fallen off in patches, covered with creepers,
yellow lichens, prehensile mosses. Orchids
gripped the surrounding trees with parasitic
“\ v~


304 THE MESH
“Listen, your Excellency! We know you
now. We have convincing proofs. Copies of
the slip, and of Bazan’s confession, have been
deposited with Mr John Carvel, and with the
seﬁ-or Don Estaban Torino. They are to be
opened to-morrow morning, if you prove stub-
born. But you will not be obstinate, for we
can deal with you. What are the facts: you
come here, carrying in your pocket a letter from
your old inamorata, making an assignation here.
You have a knife. We are going to ask you to
append a full confession to the document signed
by your accomplice Bazan, or Barriga, as he
called himself. You may refuse—what then?
If we shoot you, you will lie here, the letter in
your pocket, the knife at your feet. Those who
ﬁnd you will read the letter; they will say:
‘ He tried to discard the jealous woman, and she
shot him ’—you understand? ”
Don Luis swayed a little. At one stroke, it
seemed to him, he had lost all—his place, his
power, a fortune, the respect and homage of
men. His face was quite livid, and the sparkle
of his eyes made his pallor more remarkable by
contrast. He said something inaudibly, choked,
and put up a hand to his mouth.
“ Come, pull yourself together,” said Aster,


306 THE MESH
Aster advanced till the muzzle of his pistol
was within a foot of the other’s chest. He
pressed the trigger slowly, and the hammer
began to rise. ' “ Give him the paper, Mr Tem-
porel! ” he said.
Temporel spread the paper on the bench, and
produced a fountain pen, with which Bazan had
written his confession. Don Luis took it, ad-
vanced to the bench, and bent down. Then,
with a sudden upward spring, he grasped at
Temporel. As he bent, he had picked up the
knife, and the blade gleamed momentarily in
the lamplight. But Temporel jumped back,
and Aster, advancing, pressed the muzzle
of his pistol against the back of Don Luis"
neck.
“I’ve a good mind to shoot you, you beast,”
he said. “ Drop that knife anyway.”
For the second time, the President dropped
his weapon, and stood glaring and panting at
his opponents. It had been the result of a
furious unthinking impulse, that rush, but now
he realised thatthe game was up. He bent to the
bench, and began to write, his face working, his
shoulders heaving under the stress of conﬂict-
ing emotions. And presently he straightened
himself.


THE ASSIGNATION 509
guess it’s a case of ‘ Watch with me, Love,
to-night.’ ”
But Don Luis did not reply. He sat like a
ﬁgure of stone. His arms hung at his sides, his
head was bent.


CHAPTER XXVII
THE LETTER
AT the outskirts Of Santa Malua, Serrano and
Temporel parted. He, the latter, had prepared
Juanna for the appearance of the father she had
mourned as dead, and the dumb man was to
return by a circuitous route to his home in the
calle de los Vapores.
He himself rode into the town, and straight
to the house John Carvel had taken. He found
the servants still astir, lights glowing through
the windows, and a certain amount of excite-
ment, for which he was able to account.
John Carvel had returned from the President’s
palacio half an hour before Temporel’s arrival.
With the President’s disappearance, the function
had lost much of its life, had dragged and be-
come dull. People asked why the host should
absent himself at this particular time, and were
not wholly satisﬁed by the plausible excuses of
310


THE LETTER 311
his substitute, the Minister for War. Cynthia
had retired to bed immediately after her return,
but Mr Carvel was sitting in the study, smoking
a last pipe, and pondering thoughtfully over the
paper containing Barriga’s confession, which he
held in his hand.
Temporel was shown into the room at once.
He smiled, advanced a pace, and held out his
hand. John Carvel rose, took it, and shook it
warmly.-
“ Bravo! I congratulate you, Mr Temporel,
very sincerely. We all owe you an apology for
our blindness.”
“ Thank you. But personally, sir, you have
made the best of apologies, a practical one. In
the circumstances, it was natural that I should
be misjudged. Please say no more about it.”
“Won’t you sit?” said Carvel, indicating a
chair. “ That’s a cigar-box at your elbow.”
“ No thanks, I’ve been smoking all day.”
“ Make yourself at home. I am very glad to
see you. Have you been successful?”
“ Absolutely.” Temporel put a hand in his
pocket, and drew out the confession. “Here
it is. We made him sign, of course, much
against his will. We have it all in black and
white, and were able to dictate terms.”


314 THE MESH
laughing and shrugging. “ I have had enough
of the place.”
“ I am sure you have.”
“ And then I do not wish to disturb the pres-
ent manager, Mr Hardacre. What a bounder
he must have thought me! I mean to call and
apologise to him to-morrow morning.”
Mr Carvel looked at him thoughtfully.
“Well, young man, I suppose you want to see
Cynthia? I know young blood is impatient. As
a matter of fact, the girl’s gone to bed, and it’s
early yet, and ”
Temporel’s face ﬂushed. “ It’s awfully good
of you, and I shall be exceeding glad——”
“You got the letter, of course?” interrupted
Mr Carvel.
“ A letter? No—was it from Cynthia? ”
“ Certainly, I thought you would like to see
it before speaking to her, and it justv occurred
to me that you may have left home by the time
it arrived. It is only fair to Cynthia to let you
know that she is not yet aware of the President’s
villainy, or of the part you played in the matter.”
“ I did not get it,” said Temporel quickly. “ I
must read it before I see her. Will you excuse
i,


me now. I
“ Run along, run along! You aren’t the only


CHAPTER XXVIII
MINGLING TIDES
“ CYNTHIA! ”
Temporel entered the room where Cynthia
was sitting, and stopped momentarily just in-
side the door.
It was a hot morning; the sunlight, piercing be-
tween the slats of the jalousies, was diffused in
a mellow glow through the room. But there was
a mist before Temporel’s eyes through which
in that moment he only saw dimly. He blinked
once, but did not move. Some weight of inertia
seemed to have prevented him from covering
even those few paces which intervened between
him and Cynthia.
When the mist cleared, he was looking down
into Cynthia’s eyes, her hand was trembling on
his arm; the warm pressure of her body brought
him to himself with a shaking start.
Neither spoke just yet. It was enough to
311


318 THE MESH
stand close, to communicate in a delicious prox-
imity the thoughts and emotions that rioted in
each heart and brain. These intimate but silent
messages passed with the speed of light. They
spoke to each other, standing there, avoiding the
clumsy medium of speech, content to feel, to
drink in through that subtle contact the very
essence of love.
Cynthia’s arm slowly moved up to his shoul-
der, her face was tilted upwards, her eyes with
invitation drew his head slowly down. It was
a situation not to be spoiled by one violent or
unconsidered action; to be enjoyed, as one
enjoys the perfume of a ﬂower.
Then, as her hand pressed his shoulder,
Temporel put his arms round her, and drew
her to him very close. His lips were pressed
to hers.
She drew away from him a little presently.
“Dear Charles,” she said softly, “do you
forgive me?”
He did not answer her question.
“I have your letter,” he said, “ and there is
nothing to forgive. It told me all I wished to
know. Oh, my dear, I knew we could never
forget love ”
“ NQ—I thought so for a little—“7”


\{r ’
MINGLING TIDES 319
“ We won’t speak of it again—we want to
forget something.”
“ But it showed us what we were to each other,
dear.”
“Yes.”
Temporel drew her to him again. The house
seemed very still. In its silence it seemed that
they could hear the beat of their hearts, the
throbbing of quick pulses. There was no sound
from the street outside.
The sunlight, lazy and warm, pierced between
the slats of the jalousies, and diffused through
the room in a mellow glow, quivering softly
about the man and woman standing face to
face.
THE END

Tit: nomvgaluwn PRISS, Tuouron srau'r, NIWCASTLI-VPOI-TVI!


'fihl
'ﬁ___ i-i ‘