THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 0DV. OF CALIF. . LOS
 
 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 BY 
 GEORGE C. SHEDD 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE PRINCESS OF FORGE," "THE INCORRIGIBLE 
 DUKANE," ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 191* 
 
 BY SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY 
 (INCORPORATED) 
 
 Enttrtd at Stationtrf Hall 
 
 Published, May, 1912 
 Second Printing, June, 1911 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. 8. A.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE .... I 
 
 II A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA . . 20 
 
 III AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE .... 42 
 
 IV THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT. ... 59 
 V How A DOCUMENT MAY ACQUIRE IM- 
 PORTANCE 81 
 
 VI THE VARIOUS VISITS OF SENOR DEL 
 
 HERVALLE 97 
 
 VII STRATEGY INTRODUCED UPON AN ISLAND 115 
 
 VIII A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN .... 138 
 
 IX UNDER SURVEILLANCE 157 
 
 X THE MESSAGE 173 
 
 XI BEWARE STRANGE DOORS! 188 
 
 XII WHAT MAY BE SEEN FROM A WINDOW 201 
 
 XIII ONE WAY TO ENGAGE A VALET ... 214 
 
 XIV A STRUGGLE ON THE SANDS 229 
 
 XV THE TEUTONIC METHOD 245 
 
 XVI WANTED A FORTRESS 260 
 
 XVII LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 275 
 
 XVIII A SHOT IN THE WOOD 294 
 
 XIX LAVOUCHE INVESTIGATES 307 
 
 XX THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 322 
 
 XXI THE TALE THAT ESPER TOLD .... 343 
 
 XXII LAST OF THE TALE 359
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Whirling about, she cut off the sentence as with a knife. 
 She stared with round blue eyes and parted 
 lips Frontispiece 
 
 PAGE 
 With a stubby forefinger still resting upon the sheet 
 
 Sunpon regarded me. "Is it a fort ?". . . . 151 
 
 Up I sprang, and swinging the stool in a great circle 
 
 flung it at Descarte's head 236
 
 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE 
 
 Lieutenant William Harrington and I, making 
 our way towards the Dominion Line pier from 
 which we were to take boat from Galveston to 
 New York, were discussing future plans. 
 
 " I 'm in doubt what I really desire, society or 
 solitude," Billy remarked reflectively. 
 
 " As for society, you 've had nothing else at the 
 post," I answered. " What you want is the other 
 thing. There 's no way out of it, you must come 
 with me up the Maine coast." 
 
 " So be it, then, driver of wild oxen ! But I must 
 first spend two or three days in Washington, you 
 know, before my leave begins." 
 
 Six months previous I had by chance made the 
 acquaintance of Harrington, a young officer of 
 the Eighteenth Cavalry, at San Antonio where he 
 was stationed. Instantly we became friends, some- 
 thing in our natures making for reciprocal liking. 
 As good fortune would have it, his leave came due 
 at the time when I was starting for New York,
 
 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 and we joined company to make the trip together. 
 Here we were, then, in Galveston : our heels clicked 
 briskly on the uneven pavements as we advanced 
 along the streets, exuberant in new freedom and 
 our tongues steadily wagging. The fog which lay 
 over the city was beginning to break beneath the 
 hot July sun. Now for a moment it would drop 
 like a veil to wrap buildings and bear to our nostrils 
 the salty smell of the sea ; now it was stripped away, 
 leaving but narrow streaks and tatters to swim be- 
 tween walls. At last we came out upon the wharves 
 and made our way among endless rows of barrels, 
 bales, sacks, and crates. 
 
 '* I suppose it will be rather quiet up there where 
 you '11 take me," Billy vouchsafed. 
 
 "Not a thing to do but fish and loaf. It's 
 idyllic." 
 
 " I will grow fat," said he; for be it known that 
 Billy was as thin as a pennon-staff. " Don't you 
 think that that will be a good place to lay on a 
 little flesh?" 
 
 "Admirable. It's an isle for dreamers, lotus- 
 eaters, and flesh-accumulators." 
 
 " Not lovers, I hope," Billy sniffed. " I 'm sick 
 of girls. Promise me there '11 be no girls." 
 
 " I promise faithfully," said I. 
 
 Then you have my word to join you and 
 here 's the boat. Up you go." 
 
 Half an hour after the steamer had swung away 
 from its pier and pointed southeastward on its
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE 3 
 
 course across the Gulf we were seated on deck, skim- 
 ming a bundle of newspapers. 
 
 " Hello ! " Billy exclaimed after a time. " They Ve 
 caught another one." 
 
 " Another what ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Why, a spy. Strange thing how there seems 
 always to be a steady business in that line on the 
 Continent. This fellow was a Russian, it appears 
 an officer, too, pretty well up, who sold Germany 
 plans of a battleship, or a fortress, or something 
 which is n't specified. Want of money makes a lot of 
 fellows over yonder go crooked and sell their coun- 
 try debts, or race-horses, or actresses. Thank 
 Heaven, we don't have traitors in our army, who '11 
 sell the United States for a handful of gold. Won- 
 der what this Russian fellow disposed of and 
 what particular kind of frozen Hades they '11 send 
 him to." 
 
 I mused a moment, for the newspaper item had 
 awakened a train of thought in my mind. 
 
 " Curious, now, I 'd forgotten all about my map," 
 I said. 
 
 "Humph map." Billy was but half attentive, 
 eyes still on the newspaper he held. 
 
 " A map, exactly. I happen to be the possessor 
 of a secret map of a German fortification." 
 
 " Back to thine oxen, dreamer," he scoffed. 
 
 " And thou to thine asses, doubter," I retorted. 
 " This is a straight tale." 
 
 " Somehow I can't see the connection between
 
 4 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 a German war map and the Texas cattle ranch 
 where you Ve been, yet it may be so. Give me the 
 yarn." 
 
 " This map was in the trunk of a renegade Eng- 
 lish army officer, a scoundrel who was shot at a 
 mine in the mountains where I happened to be pres- 
 ent. I Ve the chart in New York." 
 
 " And it 's the real thing? What fort? " 
 
 " Ah, there you corner me. It 's unnamed. But 
 the chap who made it evidently slipped into some 
 fortress. It 's perfectly executed, showing to scale 
 entrance gun-pits and disappearing guns, range 
 finders, search-lights, water system, telephone sys- 
 tem, ammunition cellars, underground galleries and 
 all the score of other features, in fact, the fort 
 complete." 
 
 " By Jove ! " Billy exclaimed. 
 
 " And it 's explained in foot-notes written in Ger- 
 man script," I added. 
 
 " That settles it," said he. " A copy, of course. 
 The man could never have got into the fortress in 
 the first place; in the second, he could not have 
 secured exact data ; and in the last, they would have 
 caught and skinned him alive. It 's a pity, though, 
 he did n't tag it with its name." 
 
 " That would make it dangerous for him," said I. 
 
 " Dangerous ! As if such a map were n't danger- 
 ous any time, named or unnamed." 
 
 " Do you think so? " I asked, a little startled. 
 
 " Many a man would cut your throat in an instant
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE 5 
 
 to get it," he said cheerfully. " Why, every nation 
 in Europe would love to lay hand on that paper." 
 
 " What the deuce am I to do with it? Burn it? " 
 
 "Burn it! Perish the thought. We'll have a 
 look at it when we reach New York and then put 
 our heads together." He nodded confidently. " Who 
 knows, we may have some fun out of the thing." 
 
 " But you said it was dangerous." 
 
 " Certainly. That 's what gives a chance for 
 something to happen." 
 
 Of what his notion of fun consisted I was left 
 to guess. As I began however to realize the im- 
 port of this tracing which I possessed, a doubt of 
 the wisdom of not destroying it entered my mind. 
 One adventure I had had, one in which the man 
 whose hand had drawn the map had played an active 
 part, and now after that experience I looked askance 
 at adventures. 
 
 Like an errant meteor crossing the serenity of our 
 lives, Douglass had come upon Forge, and like that 
 celestial wanderer had burnt himself out, in a flash- 
 ing course of crime. Handsome, adroit, audacious, 
 he had set himself to win the heart of Ethys Fenton 
 she whom we jestingly termed the Princess of 
 Forge and who in truth had in the mines of Forge 
 wealth far beyond most princesses and failing 
 that, to pull down Maitland, the manager, seize the 
 gold and make off with it. But once too often had 
 he cast dice with Fate his schemes had gone 
 awry; D'Urville, his co-partner in guilt, was fled,
 
 6 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 peace and order were restored to the mines, while 
 Douglass himself was dead. A bullet had closed his 
 adventurous and disloyal career. And a fitting close ! 
 It is no wonder then that we who remained breathed 
 easier in the new security brought by his death. 
 Most of all were we happy at that time because 
 Maitland had come through the struggle with honor 
 untarnished and was soon to call Ethys his wife. 
 " Have I not reason to be happy ? " said he. " And 
 we are done with trouble." 
 
 Who can look into the future? If there be such 
 a thing as premonition, surely as we stood over 
 Douglass' open trunk while Maitland uttered those 
 words it should have foreshadowed in warning what 
 was to happen. The moment was auspicious. Mait- 
 land lightly balanced in his hands the dead man's 
 sword, an English officer's sword, while I perused 
 the map of some fortification which Douglass had 
 drawn and left unnamed. We should keep these, 
 we had resolved, as mementoes of the struggle which 
 we had fought and won. I rolled up the map, say- 
 ing, " It 's good draughtsmanship and the fellow 
 over and over, rascally, avaricious, accurate." For 
 Douglass had been just the one for such an act! 
 To creep somehow into a nation's fortress in order 
 afterwards to sell its secrets for a price, that deed 
 fitted his very nature. Danger he loved and 
 loved money. What I, as well as Maitland, had 
 forgotten was that there yet breathed somewhere 
 on the globe a plump, suave, patient gentleman,
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE 7 
 
 D'Urville, who had been hand in glove with the 
 dead Scotchman and a sharer of his secrets. Well, 
 if we never forgot anything, how full our heads 
 would be ! 
 
 That D'Urville had escaped from America alto- 
 gether I soon afterwards learned by the evidence of 
 my own eyes. Six months later in New York when 
 I was engrossed with a matter of vast importance 
 to me, being nothing less than the state of my heart 
 and that of Elizabeth Moore's, and how to bring 
 the two into mutually reciprocal and cohesive con- 
 junction forever, I had a fleeting encounter with 
 the little rotund Frenchman. Mr. Moore was sail- 
 ing to Venezuela to engage with the government 
 of that country, in behalf of our own, in certain 
 weighty and extended negotiations; and with him 
 went Elizabeth. I was on deck with her and at the 
 last moment flung doubt to the winds and laid my 
 heart and life, so to speak, in her two hands. 
 
 " I will reflect upon the matter," she answered. 
 
 " ' Reflect ! ' I exclaimed indignantly at the 
 brutal word. " It 's plain to see you 're a diplomat's 
 daughter." 
 
 " We must both reflect upon it," said she, bend- 
 ing her brows in thought. " Now hurry, Charlie, 
 the boat is about to cast off." 
 
 So it was. I hastened to the gang-plank and there 
 collided with that villain D'Urville, who was at 
 the last minute and with the least ostentation pos- 
 sible climbing aboard. Recollection of the brief
 
 8 ' THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 exchange of repartee that thereupon passed between 
 us is unpleasant to remember; the honors were all 
 on his side. As I discovered after rushing uptown 
 to inform Maitland of the news, criminals are not 
 extraditable from Venezuela ; they are in majority 
 down there, he stated, and run the government. And 
 so the man had got clean off. 
 
 Thought of the Frenchman was presently driven 
 from my mind by a letter received from Elizabeth 
 in which she returned the heart I offered. 
 
 " I am fond of you, Charlie," she wrote, " for you 
 have been exceedingly good to me, always. But since 
 you have asked me for an answer it would only be 
 cruel to delay giving it. So I will say immediately 
 and definitely that I cannot marry you. Once you 
 thought yourself madly in love with Ethys, now with 
 me; to-morrow it will be another. Charlie, you are 
 only a boy, a big boy and a nice boy, but still a boy, 
 with too much money and nothing to do. You could 
 make a mark in the world if you would cease to be 
 frivolous and take yourself seriously. Yes, Charlie, 
 I like you like your black hair, your dark eyes, your 
 square shoulders, and many, many other things about 
 you. But a woman does not fall in love with just 
 these, no indeed ! It is a man she wants, a confident, 
 masterful man to love, to mate, to adore. He must 
 be straight, honest, courageous, tried and proven, ad- 
 mired by women, respected by men, one who will flinch 
 at nothing and dare anything for the woman he loves. 
 Oh, Charlie, I have opened my heart to you, knowing 
 that you will respect my confidence and I almost 
 weep to tell you I cannot marry you. . . ."
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE 9 
 
 I read no more; I crushed the letter in my hand, 
 my heart bitter with disappointment, shame, rage 
 rage at myself. It was true, all that she had 
 written. A boy, a big boy! That expressed what 
 every one thought of me. Jack Maitland had 
 spoken it more than once "a big long-legged 
 boy " ; Ethys had said it "a nice, pleasant, oblig- 
 ing boy, but too rich " ; and my father, dead now 
 a year, had looked at me curiously from his sick- 
 bed and sighed. Now I knew his thought. What 
 if I was twenty-six! What if I stood topping six 
 feet, could lift eight hundred pounds, row a shell, 
 or run a fast mile! What if I belonged to clubs, had 
 motor cars, racing boats, money ! 
 
 One week later I sat in a saddle on a ranch in 
 Texas which I had inherited along with other things 
 from my father. I would see about this " boy " ! 
 No one except the manager knew who I was, and 
 he, under penalty of dismissal, kept inviolate my 
 secret. I flung myself into the work of the ranch 
 with a sort of fierceness, for I was bitter, bitter at 
 the world, bitter at myself. Had I not loved her? 
 God knows I had! It had been and still was (my 
 heart spoke true enough this time) the one serious 
 passion of my life. Ah, that letter which took away 
 from me hope of happiness. I went about my work 
 silently and with the earnestness born of a desire 
 to forget; rain or shine, summer grass or winter 
 snow, under sun or stars, in sand or alkali or flowers, 
 I rode with the best of those hard-riding cow-
 
 io THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 punchers, or, if need be, fought the worst with my 
 fists. The hard open life of the range, the free 
 air of the limitless prairies, hardened my frame and 
 deepened my nature. I was with men, earning my 
 wage as a man, rated a man. Thus passed eighteen 
 months. At the end of that time companions who 
 had sweated under the sun by my side in the heat 
 of the round-up and cutting-out, or branding, or 
 tamed unridden horses with me, or felt the weight 
 of my hand in fair fight, did not call me " boy." 
 
 But this was not what I wished, this respect, or 
 rather was not all I wanted. Measure of ranch life 
 I had taken, yet remained unsatisfied; therefore I 
 departed, asking myself what I must have still, but 
 receiving no answer unless it was in the picture of 
 Elizabeth's fair face conjured up by memory. 
 
 As for the map, D'Urville, and all the rest of 
 the Forge adventure, I had gradually forgotten him 
 in my nearer, more vital affair. The map was safe 
 at home in some drawer where I had tossed it; it 
 was unnamed and its very existence was unknown 
 to but three men Maitland, myself, and now Har- 
 rington. After all, what adventure could arise 
 from it? 
 
 Passengers were few upon the steamer. A voy- 
 age across the Gulf of Mexico under a broiling July 
 sun is not lightly to be undertaken. Of the few 
 however Harrington and I drew together with two 
 gentlemen who proved to be congenial and with 
 whom we fell into that easy and amiable acquaint-
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE n 
 
 anceship which is bred of experience and travel. 
 That afternoon the four of us sat on deck under 
 an awning on the shady side of the boat in an 
 endeavor to get some comfort from the breeze cre- 
 ated by the boat, though this was little. The sun 
 shone down out of a cloudless sky upon the water 
 in a glare that made the eyes ache; rope, rod, and 
 rail burned to the touch; the deck reflected the 
 sun's rays; the staterooms were stifling. Far out 
 across the water there flashed into sight from time 
 to time a school of flying fish ; overhead the wireless 
 sputtered at intervals, seeming only to intensify the 
 heat by its crackling chatter. 
 
 " And so his luck, his famous Lonagan luck, held 
 good once more." It was Brumley, the war corre- 
 spondent, concluding a story of a notorious gun- 
 runner which he had been narrating. " That was 
 last year ; I 've not seen or heard of him since. 
 In all probability, he 's down yonder somewhere this 
 present minute running contraband stuff to revo- 
 lutionists." And he jerked his thumb southward. 
 
 " Then he 's earning his money this weather," 
 said Billy, mopping his face. 
 
 The fourth of our number, a huge Mexican, a 
 prosperous coffee raiser and shipper, heaved himself 
 up in his cane chair and removed the black cigar 
 from his lips. His eyes moved restlessly from one 
 to another of us as he stroked his great white 
 moustache. 
 
 " No, gentlemen, Lonagan will run no more
 
 12 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 guns," said he. " What you call his famous luck 
 
 pouf ! has been blown away in powder-smoke." 
 " Ah, they finished him at last? " 
 
 "A month ago Castro." 
 
 "You're sure of it?" 
 
 " As sure as that " he snapped his fingers with 
 a resounding crack " for I observed all. El 
 Presidente finally tricked him, sent Del Hervalle to 
 pretend he was an insurrecto, to bargain and to plan 
 a landing of weapons, and for once Lonagan moved 
 hastily. Del Hervalle urged haste and paid high. 
 So, gentlemen, they took him. Then Castro but 
 all the world knows Castro. Six months ago it 
 occurred, and I chanced to be in Caracas, where I 
 am not yet known. Being a Mexican, I learned many 
 things which would have been impossible for an 
 American to acquire you understand, gentlemen 
 
 and could do many things unquestioned which 
 you could not have done. But neither was it known 
 that I have offices and live much of the time in 
 New York, or perhaps Castro might of me also 
 have asked questions. Lonagan was shot one morn- 
 ing against the cathedral wall. El Presidente him- 
 self was there to observe the denouement, for Lona- 
 gan had caused him considerable anxiety at one time 
 and another and the good dictator wished to see with 
 his own eyes that the man was dead. I also found 
 occasion to be present. Alas, I could render no 
 assistance, none, and could only stand with my hands 
 in my pockets and smoke a cigar and think that it
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE 13 
 
 would be well if Castro too were placed with his 
 back to the wall. Lonagan I had met in my office 
 once, perhaps twice or three times, on important 
 matters of business I may say that much now 
 he is dead. What matter to me where coffee grows ? 
 I have plantations in Mexico, Honduras, Costa Rica, 
 Brazil; and politics sometimes may even disturb 
 coffee. Undoubtedly and so Lonagan was shot 
 at last. With a lump of tobacco in his cheek, such 
 as he always ate, he went to the wall. It was sad 
 a brave man, and always the tobacco. He per- 
 ceived me. He winked an eye slowly thus, as if 
 it were a jest. When the affair was concluded, I 
 returned to the hotel, where a peon handed me a 
 scrap of letter observe." From his breast-pocket 
 the narrator drew a bill-book and extracted a dirty 
 leaf of paper. " It is in Lonagan's handwriting. 
 I will read, ' It was Hervalle who double-crossed 
 me. P. L.' Thus a brave man died." 
 
 He sank back in his chair, still holding the paper 
 in his fingers and gazing reflectively out across the 
 sea. We had had a peep at an obscure tragedy, 
 at one of the swift and merciless moves in the end- 
 less game being played beneath the placid surface 
 of world affairs. 
 
 " Del Hervalle don't think I know him," Brum- 
 ley remarked, twisting the point of his vandyke 
 beard. " But men bob up awhile and then rapidly 
 out of sight again down there ; besides, I 've been 
 in China the past year."
 
 14 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 The Mexican replaced Lonagan's letter and put 
 away his wallet. " Nothing is known of this Del 
 Hervalle, unless Castro knows it," he said, " for 
 since this successful coup he is high in El Presi- 
 dent e's favor. Of all gun-runners, Castro feared 
 and hated Lonagan most it was a bull's-eye, that 
 which Del Hervalle made ; and then there were other 
 matters in which he had been previously skillful. 
 While still in Venezuela I made a point to observe 
 him on several occasions, though to look at him 
 from a distance only, for I myself did not care to 
 become known. I may have matters of negotiation, 
 concessions to arrange ah, caramba, what taxes 
 these presidentes can imagine and invent ! This Del 
 Hervalle has honor conferred upon him " the 
 Mexican's eyes flashed scornfully for an instant 
 " for he is become Castro's right hand in govern- 
 ment. He even now confers with Senor Moore on 
 matters pending between Venezuela and the United 
 States. Perceive, a wonder! For Castro shows 
 gratitude ! " 
 
 My ears pricked up at the name he mentioned 
 Elizabeth's father, no other. Painful recollections 
 swiftly mounted to my mind, but painful as they 
 were I was still more eager for information. So 
 I proceeded to question him, prefacing my inquiries 
 with a statement that I knew both Mr. Moore and 
 his daughter. 
 
 " It was my good fortune to meet them just be- 
 fore leaving Venezuela," he stated. " Miss Moore,
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE 15 
 
 how charming ! And her beauty all Caracas 
 is at her feet." With an expressive gesture 
 he indicated the worshiping state of that country's 
 capital. 
 
 " And did Mr. Moore expect to return to the 
 States?" 
 
 " Mr. Moore mentioned such a possibility for this 
 summer. But that, my young friend, was six months 
 ago. Have you also lost your heart to the beautiful 
 daughter? " 
 
 " Who would not when one has seen her ? " I 
 said as gayly as possible. 
 
 Did they return, I should see Elizabeth! Then 
 my spirits sank. She was no longer anything to me. 
 Since my dismissal, I had no doubt faded utterly 
 from her mind or, if remembered, it was only to be 
 numbered among a score of suitors who had striven 
 to win her favor. When I came out of my medi- 
 tation I found the conversation had drifted to 
 reminiscence of Lonagan's hazardous career. Brum- 
 ley recalled how he had met him in Mobile, where 
 he was temporarily associated in a venture with a 
 reckless handsome chap. 
 
 " It was their first voyage together, it appeared." 
 
 " You say this other chap had a scar on his 
 cheek? " I asked. 
 
 " From eye to mouth." 
 
 "And named Douglass?" Then I turned to 
 Billy. " This was no other than Frederic Douglass, 
 the fellow who was at Forge."
 
 16 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " So you knew him ? " Brumley inquired. 
 
 " Undoubtedly. A slender, fair-haired Scotch- 
 man, scarred, as you state on the cheek, lithe and 
 active, polite or arrogant as suited his purpose, cool 
 and not afraid of the devil himself." 
 
 " That 's the chap, name, manner, and body." 
 
 Then I proceeded to relate the circumstances of 
 my acquaintance with the man. 
 
 The wealthy .New York family of Fenton owned 
 a mining district in the Rockies, a camp called 
 Forge. The manager had filled the vacancy of as- 
 sistant with this fellow Frederic Douglass, whom 
 he had met somewhere or other casually. That 
 Douglass was a proficient engineer enough there 
 could be no question. In time gold was missed and 
 the manager was discharged, to be replaced by an- 
 other engineer, a rising young chap, Jack Maitland, 
 who had been a university classmate of Tom Fenton. 
 But the gold continued to shrink. It was at this 
 time that Mr. Fenton, Sr., his niece, Ethys, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Arlington, and I went to Forge from New York 
 for an outing. It promised to be a comfortable one, 
 as Forge House was a big stone mansion overlooking 
 town and camp and was used as a residence by the 
 manager and his assistant. Douglass, it turned out, 
 had brought with him a Frenchman, D'Urville by 
 name, to fill the position of mechanic. These two, 
 we later discovered, were old comrades in many a 
 dark piece of work and were now bent on laying 
 hands on as much gold as possible and making off
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE 17 
 
 with it. But the coming of Ethys Fenton brought 
 a new element into the game. 
 
 Both Maitland and Douglass fell in love with 
 her. The Scotch adventurer was just the man to 
 interest though not attract a girl of her tempera- 
 ment, and it was not then known that he was a 
 disgraced officer of the British army, nor that he 
 had engaged in dishonorable businesses all over the 
 world in China, on the Gold Coast, in South 
 America, and elsewhere. On the other hand, Mait- 
 land was an honest, skillful, and brilliant man in his 
 profession. Any one who had seen Ethys Fenton 
 knew her loveliness and amiability of character, a 
 girl simple, witty, and unspoiled, notwithstanding 
 that she was wealthy in her own right. The clever 
 and unscrupulous Scot immediately set out to win 
 her hand, destroy Maitland's honor and good name, 
 and thus rid himself of a rival. The camp he stirred 
 to mutiny and disruption; he put in operation a 
 scheme whereby a number of miscreants attempted 
 to seize the gold, but failed; and finally perceiving 
 that discovery of his schemes threatened him and 
 his companion, D'Urville, they did not halt at mur- 
 der in order to extricate themselves. These plots 
 nearly cost Maitland his life. But in the end the 
 Scot's web of intrigue broke down, he himself being 
 thoroughly entangled in it, and while attempting to 
 escape, he was shot by Maitland. D'Urville alone 
 we could not lay hands on D'Urville, that placid, 
 ingenious, plump little man. He escaped.
 
 i8 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 "A remarkable pair of scoundrels," Brumley 
 remarked. 
 
 " Say, I would like to have cut into that fun," 
 said Billy. 
 
 The coffee merchant vouchsafed no comment, his 
 heavy eyelids drooped a trifle sleepily; he lighted a 
 fresh cigar and slowly puffed it. 
 
 Presently we drifted to fresh subjects; Lonagan, 
 Douglass, and all adventurers were dismissed. Out 
 upon the water the silver glare was diminishing, for 
 the sun had dropped down to the horizon and was 
 about to set. The air grew cooler, we straightened 
 up in our chairs and talked more briskly, or watched 
 the distant sails of a schooner, golden in the slant- 
 ing rays. Under our feet the deck vibrated steadily 
 as the steamer rushed through the water, pointing 
 for the Florida Keys and the swing northward which 
 would take it to New York. We watched the chang- 
 ing water and sky, a-color with the approach of 
 evening, and grew silent. 
 
 All at once the coffee merchant spoke out of his 
 long abstraction. 
 
 " That D'Urville, now." 
 
 " What about him? " I asked. 
 
 " My young friend, your D'Urville is no other 
 than Del Hervalle, El Presidente's friend and 
 adviser." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " I exclaimed, incredulous. 
 " For, observe, this Del Hervalle is no Venezuelan, 
 but a Frenchman, a cunning adventurer who was
 
 OLD WINE IN A NEW BOTTLE 19 
 
 unknown until a year ago, who had not had a foot 
 in the country until perhaps two. Ah, you have 
 given his picture perfectly little and round and 
 ceremonious, yes. He goes about in a frock coat and 
 a shining high hat and calls himself Del Hervalle 
 a simple revision of the name. Your mechanic 
 has untied his apron and donned a new garment. 
 Ha ! " And the huge Mexican gave himself up to 
 soft laughter. " Mr. Wood worth, permit me to 
 congratulate you upon your friend's rise in the 
 world." 
 
 " But possibly you are mistaken," I returned, re- 
 luctant to believe. 
 
 " You yourself said he went aboard the vessel 
 that carried Mr. Moore and his daughter south. 
 And now as Venezuela's diplomat the very man 
 treats with the Honorable Senor Moore. A strange 
 world, gentlemen ! " 
 
 A strange world, in truth.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 
 
 The island of Lavouche lies snug against the 
 upper Maine coast, and the currents which wash its 
 sides have not long ceased to be Canadian waters. 
 A mile in length, it has but a third of that width; 
 a virgin though not particularly dense growth of 
 wood covers it, chiefly pine and hemlock; and the 
 northern half being high though level presents a 
 sheer and abrupt face to the sea, while the southern 
 part possesses a smooth and pleasant character. 
 Whether in the strict sense of the word it is an 
 isle, we shall leave to geographers to determine; 
 it stretches north and south parallel with the coast, 
 sheltered by a point of rock which some little dis- 
 tance above thrusts itself out from the mainland, 
 for all the world like a brown thumb. At flood tide 
 the island is separated from the main beach by a 
 hundred yards of swift swirling current, but at ebb 
 one may cross where he will on the sands. If cus- 
 tom of speech give any authority, then island it is, 
 for the native fishermen have so pronounced it for 
 two hundred years, in fact ever since that time when 
 the little band of Acadians, driven from their north- 
 ern home and wandering in search of another more
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 21 
 
 secure, first pushed keel upon its sands. What is 
 Lavouche but the corruption, in their patois, of lie 
 de la Bouclie! To this day you can hear gray-heads 
 reciting old tales give it the full and ancient appel- 
 lation. Therefore The Mouth it is, which finds 
 a peculiar significance in the formation of the 
 coast. 
 
 The village of Lavouche sits about the middle of 
 the west side of the island on a low floor of rock. 
 Behind it rises the cliff some fifty feet in height, 
 though this descends in an abrupt declivity to the 
 south of the hamlet, permitting a road into the wood. 
 The houses are old, constructed by the first comers 
 two centuries previous, and built in the style which 
 prevailed at that period in France, of stone, the 
 upper story paneled with oak beams, steep and 
 hip-roofed, one against another, thus making the 
 sides of each dwelling to brace its neighbors and 
 their fronts to form two unbroken walls between 
 which runs the narrow street. At the end of this 
 spreads the open beach, where when the tide is in 
 the fishermen can draw their boats high and safe, 
 when the tide is out the wives can cross afoot to 
 the west. The narrow channel between the island 
 village and the mainland is, with that quaint but 
 vivid figurativeness of the French, named The 
 Throat, as the long protecting jet of rock which 
 shelters the isle was called Le Dent The Tooth, 
 
 To this spot, years before, my father and his close 
 friend, Alexander Moore, then young men, cruising
 
 22 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 the coast on a holiday, had put in to escape a brew- 
 ing storm. Little known to-day, the place was at 
 that time undiscovered. The charm of the island, 
 the primitive and picturesque life of the village, the 
 simple hospitality of the fishermen captivated the 
 pair; and each summer thereafter they made it the 
 objective point of their outing. Later each bought a 
 parcel of the island and built him a house. That of 
 Alexander Moore was ambitious. But as my mother 
 had died, leaving only my father and me, a young 
 boy, my parent contented himself with erecting a 
 comfortable one-story lodge. Life here at Lavouche 
 was suited to my taste. I ran with the village ur- 
 chins, swam, sailed, and dug in the sands for 
 mussels; and by the time I was fifteen, when 
 I had my last summer there before going away 
 to school for good, I could handle a boat like the 
 fishermen and speak their patois as fluently as they 
 themselves. 
 
 Now, after so long an interval, I was going back 
 to see into what fine brown fellows had grown Jean 
 and Gaspard and Antoine and all the other young- 
 sters whom I had counted brothers. 
 
 On the pier in New York our steamer party dis- 
 solved; the coffee merchant rolling away in a taxi- 
 cab to his offices, the journalist seeking his editorial 
 chief, and Harrington making for the ferry. With 
 a hearty handshake he had promised to join me at 
 Lavouche as soon as he dispatched his business a 
 week at the outside. Being midsummer, New York
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 23 
 
 was naturally empty of people I knew, scattered 
 where they might escape its heat. So I planned to 
 set out for the north late that afternoon, where 
 Andrew, my family servant, had already departed 
 upon receipt of a wireless message sent by me two 
 days previous. He would shake up Stag Lodge and 
 put it in order against my coming. It was just at 
 lunch time when by a good turn of fortune I ran 
 across Jack Maitland, who had come into town on 
 business. 
 
 " And you never sent word you were on the way," 
 he reproached, as we sat down to table. " I say, 
 Wood worth, that 's shabby treatment." 
 
 " I did n't know but what you were off on a 
 cruise." 
 
 " That won't do. A wire to the office would have 
 been forwarded. By Heaven, you 've acquired a 
 fine color! You could sell yourself for a leather 
 antique. Thinner, too! That life in the saddle 
 takes the fat off a fellow like a Turkish bath. Well, 
 there 's nothing for it now but to come along with 
 me to Newport. Ethys will be delighted to see you. 
 Then there 's the youngster, whom you have n't yet 
 beheld, one year old last week." 
 
 I interrupted him. " See here, I Ve all my plans 
 made to go north at five this afternoon and have 
 wired Andrew to expect me to-morrow." 
 
 " The deuce ! I want you to come, for a month 
 or a year, as you wish." 
 
 " That 's kind, Jack. Extend the invitation later
 
 24 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 and I '11 snap it up. Now it 's impossible. I Ve 
 arranged for a friend to join me up there." 
 
 " Well, you must come later." 
 
 " That I will." 
 
 " Ethys will be disappointed when she learns 
 you 're here and did not join us." 
 
 " Tell her that I shall come presently and hold 
 the baby." 
 
 Our conversation drifted to general topics. I de- 
 scribed my life on the ranch to Jack, with whom 
 I had kept up a more or less desultory correspond- 
 ence, while he in turn touched lightly on his business 
 successes. Then talk veered to old times at Forge. 
 
 " What do you think," said I, " our friend 
 D'Urville is prospering." 
 
 "The devil he is!" Jack sat up. "Has that 
 rogue bobbed to the surface once more ? " 
 
 " Unquestionably. At present he 's a friend of 
 President Castro, and if not his right hand, at least 
 one of his fingers. Of late he has been conducting 
 for Venezuela certain negotiations in which Mr. 
 Alexander Moore is the American representative 
 and on which account he has spent the last year 
 and a half in that country." 
 
 For a moment Jack drummed the cloth in silence. 
 " Well, that 's a rapid rise," he remarked. 
 
 " But -then anything may happen in these pseudo- 
 republics," I replied. " He would be just the man 
 to grasp opportunities, just the man to make him- 
 self indispensable to a president like Castro, for he
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 25 
 
 would stop at nothing criminal and meanwhile 
 feather his nest." 
 
 " Trust him for that." 
 
 " But to think of him meeting Mr. Moore, and 
 perhaps Elizabeth, as a social equal ! " 
 
 "Hard to swallow, isn't it, Charlie?" 
 
 " Knowing what we do of the scamp," I added. 
 
 " I can't forget that he 's a murderer but Cas- 
 tro 's no better. Well, when I see Mr. Moore I '11 
 ask him about the fellow." 
 
 " Mr. Moore will be returning soon, I suppose." 
 
 " He has already returned, he and Betty. They 
 spent a day with us, and Betty was as lovely as 
 ever. Were n't you rather hit there once, Charlie ? " 
 
 " Hard and still am," I acknowledged. 
 
 " Get busy, then," Maitland advised in a brisk 
 tone. 
 
 " Busy ! " I exclaimed. " What do you think I 'm 
 doing, buying a motor car ? " 
 
 Jack laid down his fork and laughed. " If you 're 
 really in love, you should n't lose any time. I did n't 
 in my case, you '11 perhaps recollect. Time is pre- 
 cious, time is golden, time is eh " He trailed 
 off into ineptitude. " That 's it, get busy and win 
 out. She 's worth it." 
 
 " Don't I know that? " I asked bitterly. 
 
 " See here, Charlie, I 'm your friend. Come, 
 what 's the trouble ? Perhaps I can advise you 
 or Ethys can." 
 
 " All trouble. A year and a half ago I asked
 
 26 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 her to marry me and she declined. And what do 
 you think was her reason? Said I was a boy." 
 
 Jack smiled broadly, but when I glared at him 
 he immediately grew serious. 
 
 " Well, you 're a man now," he said. 
 
 " That is as may be." 
 
 " So you '11 go in and win her." 
 
 " She stated that her answer was final. No 
 chance." 
 
 " Oh, come, don't look on the dark side." 
 
 " Her decision is irrevocable," I answered. 
 " That 's why I went to Texas." 
 
 " So that 's the explanation, eh ? Ethys and I 
 wondered what was the cause of your sudden exile." 
 
 " Where are they now, she and her father ? " 
 
 " Blessed if I can remember," Jack answered. 
 " Off somewhere. Mr. Moore wanted quiet to 
 finish certain diplomatic matters and Betty went 
 along. Ethys could give you the name of the 
 spot." 
 
 " It 's immaterial. If you chance across him, ask 
 about D'Urville." 
 
 " Ah, I '11 not forget to do that." 
 
 " But you must inquire concerning a Senor Del 
 Hervalle ; that 's the title he uses now." 
 
 " Oh, so." 
 
 We rose from the table and walked together to 
 the door, where we prepared to separate. As Jack 
 was turning away, he swung about and caught me 
 by the lapel of my coat.
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 27 
 
 going?" he demanded. 
 
 " Lavouche." 
 
 He stood reflecting. " It seems to me that Mr. 
 Moore remarked something about going to a spot 
 where he and your father used to summer." 
 
 " Lavouche, that 's the place." 
 
 " Well, if I 'm not mistaken, you '11 find it 's where 
 he and Betty are." 
 
 " No ! " I exclaimed in dismay. 
 
 " Yes," retorted he with a grin. " And just the 
 nook, too, to pick up the broken thread of your 
 tender romance. A lonely island in the sea, sighing 
 boughs, sparkling waves, throbbing hearts " 
 
 Dum founded as I was by the intelligence he had 
 given me, I yet had sufficient presence of mind to 
 halt this stream of mock sentiment. " That 's 
 enough for this time," I said, and broke away. 
 
 He waved a hand after me and called, " Be in- 
 dustrious, throw on the high speed, come in a 
 winner." 
 
 From any one but Maitland I would not have 
 tolerated such jesting, but the past had closely knit 
 our friendship and I knew that under his veil of airy 
 badinage he held for me a fine and loyal sympathy. 
 Nor had I any embarrassment to fear; he was the 
 soul of discretion. But into this matter he could 
 not see : never at any time had Elizabeth shown for 
 me, now that I looked back, any special affection; 
 always generous, always kind as she was, her feel-
 
 28 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 ing had not gone deeper than friendship. I had 
 failed to awaken a response in her heart, that was all. 
 
 With this uncheerful consideration engaging my 
 mind I proceeded to my agent's office, secured the 
 key of my closed home, and thither bent my steps. 
 For, true to my intention, I was going to make an 
 examination of the map which I had acquired from 
 the dead Scot of Forge. I opened desks and rum- 
 maged drawers and ransacked files ; I could not lay 
 hand on it Where I had tossed it two years before 
 upon returning from the West I was now unable 
 to recall. It was only when the margin of time left 
 for me to catch my train was growing slender that 
 I finally discovered it in a chest, together with a 
 heap of miscellaneous treasures of youthful days. 
 Thereupon thrusting it into my bag, I rushed away 
 to catch a cab for the station. 
 
 An hour later I sat in my section of a Pullman 
 speeding northward from New York. On my lap 
 lay outspread the map which had fallen into my 
 hands so strangely and which now after two years 
 was beginning in my mind to assume shape and 
 substance as a document of highest import. It was 
 in size a sheet perhaps two feet by three of the 
 azure tracing paper customarily employed by 
 draughtsmen for making blue-prints and was as 
 fresh as the day when first I laid eyes upon it. 
 Every dot, every stroke was clear and fine and 
 perfect a beautiful piece of work, executed with 
 the exactness and delicacy of a copper plate. A
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 29 
 
 technical drawing, a dry skeleton of a plan, yet 
 what hidden preparation of engineers and statesmen 
 it disclosed, what secret labors of an army, what 
 silent and sinister defense of a nation! It was a 
 leaf stolen from the locked military book of an 
 empire. Sharp, conscienceless Douglass! Whether 
 he had accomplished that astounding thing, that un- 
 believable miracle of making his way into a fortress' 
 recesses and there obtaining its bounds and measure- 
 ments, or whether by some rascality he ' had got 
 possession of an original plan and made a copy, I 
 could imagine him as he bent over his table marking 
 off points with rule and compass, dipping pen in 
 ink, drawing with skillful unhurried hand, and mean- 
 time calculating in his crafty brain where his product 
 would find its best price. There were always mar- 
 kets for such wares. Yes, sharp Douglass, it was 
 a business he delighted in; he would have stolen 
 his own boots and sold them if he thought to take 
 profit from the deed ; his fingers were always itching 
 for secrets, intrigues, and unlawful contrivances. 
 Once finished, the sheet would bring him a fat bag 
 of gold. England would have bargained with him, 
 France would have beamed on him, Russia would 
 have opened her heavy purse. Moreover, here upon 
 the margin, bringing it to intelligible completion, he 
 had annotated the work with a memorandum in 
 German script. I could imagine his sardonic smile, 
 for it was just the sort of humor to amuse his dia- 
 bolical soul, this filching, at the conclusion, of the
 
 3 o THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 nation's very tongue. I gazed at the sheet. What 
 fortress did it outline ? What stronghold did it be- 
 tray ? One, no doubt, of that mighty cordon which 
 girt the Empire with stone and steel and bristling 
 guns. 
 
 Something of the grave character of the chart 
 began to impress me. Here was I, a young fellow, 
 an ordinary American, one without interest in the 
 German Empire; indeed, one who had never given 
 two thoughts to her affairs, come by a singular 
 chain of circumstances into possession of this docu- 
 ment. .Now, verily, it seemed to grow ominous in 
 my hands. Hitherto I had given it little consider- 
 ation, flung it into an old chest with other idle 
 rubbish; but as I gazed upon it I perceived that 
 it was one of those things that, wherever it might 
 be, whoever had it, could never prove insignificant 
 and never idle. The nation concerned was too 
 powerful and the issue at stake too mighty, and 
 once it became known that this sheet was in exist- 
 ence, no obstacle would halt Germany on the one 
 hand or her enemies on the other in an effort to 
 seize it. In truth it was fraught with future com- 
 plications, electric with possibilities. I could de- 
 stroy it but against that my mind cried out. 
 The mystery, the spicy odor of things unknown 
 and momentous that clung to it, the beck it made, 
 the suggestion to fling aside fear and challenge fate, 
 fascinated me as a red flag charms and holds im- 
 movable the startled deer. No, I could not destroy
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 31 
 
 it. And as if fate, now that my decision was made, 
 would at once put me to the touch, a harsh voice 
 spoke at my shoulder: 
 
 " Where did you get that ! " 
 
 I whirled about in my seat, unconsciously clutch- 
 ing the map in a defensive grip. 
 
 There in the aisle and a step behind my shoulder 
 stood a tall gentleman scowling at me. His hair 
 and upturned moustache were fair, his eyes blue, 
 his smooth cheeks and milk-rose complexion that of 
 the typical Saxon; his figure, though inclined to 
 fleshiness, was nevertheless erect, almost stiffly so, 
 apparent notwithstanding the easy hang of his loose 
 though fashionably cut apparel of white serge. He 
 lifted the walking stick he carried and pointed at 
 my prize, repeating his question in excellent English. 
 
 " That," said I, recovering self-possession, " is 
 entirely my own affair." And rapidly rolling it up, 
 I placed it out of sight in my bag. 
 
 " It 's a plan of a fortification." 
 
 " Whatever it is, it 's my own business. You 
 assume a great deal as a stranger when you cate- 
 chize me." 
 
 " Of a German fortification." 
 
 " You made good use of your eyes." 
 
 " Let me inquire how and where it came into your 
 possession? " 
 
 " By all means." 
 
 " You do not give me an answer," he stated 
 after a pause.
 
 32 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 "A question is one thing, an answer another. 
 The first may be an annoyance, and the questioner 
 impertinent. I trust, my dear sir, that you catch 
 my full meaning." 
 
 What I should do with the map I had no idea; 
 but I did not intend to make it free to any passer-by, 
 least of all a German. Consequently my resentment. 
 On his part a dark flush suffused his face at my 
 words and his eyes blazed hot, but his self-repression 
 was admirable. He lifted his straw hat in scornful 
 acknowledgment and passed up the aisle to his seat 
 in the opposite end of the car. 
 
 I considered the incident at an end, for the man 
 was clearly a gentleman, and could account for his 
 conduct only upon the ground of unusual interest 
 or some special knowledge. He was or had been 
 concerned with German army affairs. His swift 
 recognition of the character of the map bespoke an 
 intimate knowledge of military defense, though his 
 questions showed plainly that he did not identify 
 the fortress which it outlined. But, as I was soon 
 to learn, the man had by no means abandoned his 
 purpose of discovering what he wished to know. 
 
 That night upon retiring I considered the circum- 
 stance of my mild clash with the unknown. The 
 map was in my bag, the bag under the berth, sleep 
 descending upon the travelers as evidenced by more 
 or less wheezy aspirations, and the aisle would pres- 
 ently be a dim and curtained lane in which any 
 trespasser could move with little fear of detection.
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 33 
 
 The map would be far safer by my person. Taking 
 it out of its receptacle, I folded it carefully into a 
 flat package and slipped around it a rubber band. 
 Thus it was compact and could later be carried in 
 a pocket. Sometime in the night I awoke. My 
 curtains were stirring gently as by a touch. A 
 low sound of something being dragged came to my 
 alert ear; the German, if the German it was, was 
 now engaged in the very depredation which I had 
 anticipated. A sudden lurch of the car threw the 
 night prowler against my berth, with which I sprang 
 up, lunged forward, and thrust forth a hand to 
 catch him. Out upon the thief I fell in a whirl 
 of bed-clothing and curtains in a mad endeavor 
 to get a grip on his limbs. Over and over we 
 rolled and twisted, struggling in the dim reduced 
 light; I could distinguish nothing of the man, only 
 feel his body. Then came a muttered curse, an 
 upheaval, the patter of retreating feet, and I re- 
 mained alone and wrapped like some netted ani- 
 mal, to extricate myself at leisure. When finally 
 I stood up, pa jama-clad, rumpled, annoyed, I be- 
 held the astonished porter before me, while stick- 
 ing out from between hangings were half a dozen 
 heads. 
 
 " Fo' Heaven sake, suh, what you doin' ? " the 
 negro exclaimed. 
 
 " Trying to catch a thief," I said shortly. 
 
 " They ain't no thieves in this car, fo' I 'se wide 
 awake and would have seen 'em."
 
 34 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " But it was a thief." 
 
 " No, suh, yo' mistaken, I don't 'low thieves 
 round." 
 
 " Then it was no doubt a phantom," I retorted, 
 " or a dinosaurus, with which I was wrestling here 
 on the floor." 
 
 " That 's all right, suh, everything 's quiet now. 
 Yo' can sleep some mo'. I '11 see none of them 
 nightmare animals like you mention runs 'round in 
 the aisle." 
 
 To such grinning incredulity there was no reply. 
 I returned to bed. As for the German he would 
 go, as was now apparent, to greater lengths than 
 I had imagined from his single accidental attempt 
 to look at the map. Truly, this strange property 
 was already beginning to exercise a potency, a grow- 
 ing capacity for mischief, which promised to involve 
 me in I did not know what difficulties. Well, at any 
 rate, I still kept it unstolen. 
 
 The arrangement which I had wired Andrew was 
 that he should meet me at Penosset, the nearest 
 railroad station to Lavouche, in order to convey 
 me and my luggage to the island. The sun was 
 not more regular than Andrew; it was therefore 
 with some surprise that I stepped upon the station 
 platform and found nothing of my servant. I ap- 
 proached the agent, a gaunt, stooped, melancholy 
 individual, and inquired if my telegram had been 
 forwarded to Lavouche. It had not; on the con- 
 trary, it was still on file in the depot office ; no one
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 35 
 
 had called for it, he explained, and when I pro- 
 tested that telegrams were to be delivered, he 
 scratched his chin-whisker and answered, " We ain't 
 much in a hurry here in Penosset." Of that he 
 spoke truly, for the town appeared abandoned, 
 mouldy and ready to tumble down; behind it a 
 small swale ran somewhere southward, a creek when 
 the tide was out, an estuary of the sea when the 
 tide was in; the few ramshackle buildings were 
 blackened by fogs and mists and looked all the more 
 dismal because of the melancholy pines in which 
 they sat. All was dissolution. 
 
 As Lavouche was, however, but two or three miles 
 away, I determined to walk the distance instead of 
 trying to find some vehicle in this hopeless town 
 with which to convey myself to my destination. I 
 turned about, after making sure of the road I should 
 take, and started down the platform. A man stood 
 before me lo, the German! Where he had kept 
 himself out of observation on the train, I had no 
 idea ; in any case he had succeeded in doing so, for 
 I had not seen him since the night before. Here 
 he was for a fact, his blond moustache carefully 
 brushed upward at the ends in the manner of his 
 autocratic Emperor, straw hat set squarely on his 
 head and his eyes upon me intent with purpose. 
 
 " In the matter of that map " 
 
 He courteously raised his hat as he spoke; but I 
 immediately cut him off without permitting a finish 
 of his statement.
 
 36 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " See here, whoever you are, did you stop off 
 the train in order to bring up this subject?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then you have your trouble for your pains," 
 said I, marching past him, " and a long wait in 
 this deserted town. Good day, sir." 
 
 Striding briskly forward, I entered the wood and 
 set out along a sandy road that led eastward towards 
 the seashore. On either side stood a thin growth 
 of pines, breaking the sunshine into patches and 
 blots, spreading their odor of balsam upon thq 
 air to mingle with the salty smell of the sea. 
 Coarse grass struggled up in bunches here and 
 there between the tracks cut in the sand by cart- 
 wheels; the boughs about me swayed and sighed 
 in the light breeze. And altogether the afternoon, 
 now not far from sunset, was as charming a one 
 in which to be abroad as the road was pleasant to 
 follow. 
 
 Presently the pines thinned, then ceased, and the 
 track winding its way for two hundred yards or so 
 through sparsely grassed sand-dunes at last opened 
 upon the beach. What a beautiful picture it was! 
 I halted to give myself a full deep draught of the 
 scene. Far northward, so far that it was scarcely 
 distinguishable, I could make out the lighthouse that 
 guarded this part of the coast ; southward and not 
 half a mile away, the long round-backed rock La 
 Dent thrust itself directly across the beach and ex- 
 tended into the sea. Directly before me stretched
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 37 
 
 the curving strand, washed by combers that un- 
 rolled their fringe of foam with steady insistent 
 sound. The sun just touching the tips of the pines 
 still slanted on the sea; the swaying surface melted 
 into gold, while the top of the swells, broken into 
 a hundred tiny waves by a gentle breeze, sparkled 
 and flashed from every facet. Even as I gazed the 
 sun sank behind the wood. A shadow crept forth 
 upon the water, the rosy warmth faded from the 
 beach, leaving it dead and gray; the waves no 
 longer shot flashing beams, and only the sails of 
 a boat far out yet held the golden light. 
 
 With a sigh of satisfaction I turned and set my 
 feet for La Dent, on the farther side of which lay 
 the village. The north end of the island was visible, 
 its cliff- face surmounted by wood, peeping out be- 
 yond the end of the huge protecting ridge of The 
 Tooth. Leisurely, contented in mind, glad with the 
 wide gladness of the sea, I walked on, keeping close 
 to the border of flotsam cast up by the waves. 
 Each roller curved forward, uncurled its crest and 
 breaking spread swiftly up the sand almost to my 
 feet in a glassy sheet surfaced with bubbles. In 
 the line of drift were tiny spiral shells, knots of 
 sea-weed, buds torn off submarine plants, water- 
 worn sticks, all the curious and fragmentary plunder 
 that stirs imagination as to the unknown realms in 
 that world beneath the sea. 
 
 Out of my abstraction I was all at once roused 
 by a figure which emerged before me from the
 
 38 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 dunes. Again it was the German ; would the fellow 
 never have done? Obviously he had followed, cut 
 across among the hillocks of sand, and thus inter- 
 cepted me. This affair could no longer be called 
 trivial. When I drew near to him, he placed him- 
 self in front of me and lifted his hand. 
 
 " I regret very much, sir, to importune you," he 
 greeted, " but I must demand that I be permitted 
 to examine the map you carry." He spoke rapidly 
 and firmly. 
 
 " Demand ! That 's a strong word." 
 " I mean no discourtesy, nevertheless I must re- 
 quire you to show me that plan of fortification." 
 
 " See here," said I, " I don't know who you are, 
 nor do I care to know, but since you've thrust 
 yourself into my business, annoyed me with ques- 
 tions, attempted to rifle my baggage, followed me 
 persistently, and now seek to intimidate me, I '11 
 state plainly that my patience is exhausted, that I 
 shall not tolerate it further, and that you '11 have to 
 abide by any future consequences." 
 
 Thereupon I placed my bag on the sand and in 
 my turn waited. The first move should be his, but 
 I intended to be prepared for it whatever form it 
 might take. Yet it was difficult to believe he would 
 resort to violence; and I was confirmed in this 
 opinion by reason of his standing in perplexity. 
 After a moment he drew himself together. 
 
 " Sir, you 've impugned my motives and my 
 honor," he said with dignity, " but I let that pass.
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 39 
 
 I even go farther I make an appeal. I am a 
 German, as you have readily guessed; I behold in 
 the hands of a stranger and alien a plan of one of 
 my country's fortifications, or what I believe to 
 be such. I ask you to permit me to examine it 
 and if it 's not what I think it, I '11 tender you an 
 ample apology. You say that I interfere in your 
 affairs. Is it not you rather who are interfering 
 in the affairs of my Emperor? What right have 
 you to that map? " 
 
 " Well, at present I 've the right of possession," 
 I said. 
 
 " Ah ! " A scornful smile broke over his face. 
 " Then it 's another kind of man I have to deal 
 with. I was stupid not to discover that earlier. 
 Name your price; I have money." 
 
 At this speech my blood began to beat a little 
 more warmly. He believed me an adventurer. Or 
 hold! A suspicion flashed through my mind. Was 
 the man acting a part? What, after all, was he? 
 Douglass, the scoundrel whose hand had drawn the 
 map, had been just such an adept at assuming vir- 
 tuous ardor. Had I here another double-dealer who 
 fancied to intimidate me out of the paper? 
 
 " I 'm not in the market to-day," said I. 
 
 " I demand to see it." 
 
 " The demand coming from the person who en- 
 deavored last night to break open my hand-bag car- 
 ries little weight." 
 
 His face flushed, hardened. The fingers holding
 
 40 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 his walking stick shifted and gripped the wood. I 
 gathered myself, alert, tense, keeping a watchful 
 eye on his every move. He drew his hat more firmly 
 upon his head. 
 
 " For the last time, will you give it to me ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 The stick flashed up, then swiftly descended. Had 
 it fallen upon its mark, my skull would have been 
 cracked; the weapon was stout and the force im- 
 pelling it savage. But I swerved aside, at the same 
 instant leaning forward and shooting my fist against 
 the man's jaw. His cane barely brushed my shoul- 
 der ; my knuckles however caught his chin squarely ; 
 he staggered, his hat spun off, rolling on the sand. 
 Without waiting to measure the effect of my blow 
 I struck again, and this time he dropped full length. 
 
 I stood over him rubbing my bruised knuckles. 
 His figure was relaxed, his fingers lay limply open 
 from which the stick had dropped, his eyes were 
 closed. He stirred, while his lips twitched ; a groan 
 issued from his lips. It was a knock-out I had given 
 him, clean, quick, and one I smiled grimly 
 that the man would not soon forget. But, beyond 
 his temporary senselessness and the sore jaw he 
 would nurse to-morrow, the fellow was uninjured. 
 So seizing my bag I set off at a good pace and ten 
 minutes later I was mounting the round brown back 
 of La Dent. A cart road twisted up where the 
 acclivity was easiest, but I remembered a shorter path 
 that the fishermen used and up this made my way.
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF A SINGLE IDEA 41 
 
 And all the while my mind revolved around the map. 
 What next! So far, and when only twenty- four 
 hours out of the oaken chest, it had brought me 
 to blows. Like the fisherman of the Arabian tale 
 who opened a vessel drawn up in his net, I had 
 released a genie of trouble ; would I, like him, suc- 
 ceed in restoring it to its jar? 
 
 When I reached the top of the rock, I paused and 
 turned about for a last look at my antagonist. 
 
 " Of all things under heaven ! " I exclaimed in 
 astonishment. 
 
 For there three hundred yards distant on the 
 sandy beach, plodding steadily towards me, came 
 the indefatigable German.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE 
 
 Stag Lodge so named because here in an early 
 day my father shot an elk which had wandered 
 from the mainland, whose head now surmounted 
 the great fireplace stood at the southern end of 
 the island. Behind it spread the fragrant wood; 
 before it a gentle slope, upon which grew only an 
 occasional tree or clump of bushes, ran down to the 
 beach. The structure was a plain, solid, unpreten- 
 tious one, of a single story, low-roofed, wide, and 
 built of natural logs. A spacious veranda extended 
 entirely around it; a lofty pine guarded its door, 
 past whose trunk a path descended to a small wharf ; 
 within, there were half a dozen rooms, one a living- 
 room, raftered with heavy beams, paneled in oak, 
 furnished as my father had loved it with plain 
 massive furniture, rugs, books, a few sea-pictures, 
 old pewter, and having in its end the aforementioned 
 great stone fireplace. 
 
 Here it was on the second day after my arrival 
 that I sat snug before the crackling hearth while 
 a storm raged without. Even in summer when a 
 gale sweeps the island a fire is welcome, for a nor'- 
 easter brings a sharp edge to the Maine coast; and
 
 AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE 43 
 
 so, while the boughs lashed the roof and the rain 
 beat the windows, I sat with legs outstretched and 
 smoked a pipe in abundant comfort. The hurricane 
 had burst the night of my coming to Lavouche and 
 was only now beginning to diminish in fury. There- 
 fore, I reflected, every one had kept indoors and the 
 Moores knew not that they had me for a neighbor. 
 
 "You've not seen any of them?" I asked 
 Andrew. 
 
 He sat opposite me, his soles toasting before the 
 flame, a churchwarden pipe in his hand. 
 
 " No, Master Charles." He persisted in address- 
 ing me as he had done when I was a youngster 
 and as he would in all probability continue to do 
 during the rest of his life. " No, Master Charles, 
 I 've not. But then I 've been very busy preparing 
 the Lodge. You '11 be very glad to see them, I 'm 
 sure, and they '11 be very glad to see you." 
 
 Andrew was stout and old and deliberate. He 
 had devoted his life to service in the family of 
 Woodworths; he could not conceive so impossible 
 a thing as anybody not being glad to see a Wood- 
 worth. Moreover I did not attempt to instruct 
 him that such might be the state of mind of the 
 Moores. 
 
 Presently he said, " Yes, Mr. Moore will be 
 charmed to see you as he was always delighted 
 to see your father." 
 
 " Are he and Betty here alone? " 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed. Jean informed me, when he
 
 44 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 brought the provisions for the pantry, that there 
 is, besides Mr. Moore and his daughter, a young 
 lady who is visiting Miss Betty, and two gentlemen 
 quite a houseful, Master Charles." 
 
 Of conversing with Andrew I never wearied. 
 His style carried a reminiscence, a first fragrance 
 of that period when as a young man he had been 
 trained by my grandfather the period of hair- 
 sofas, wax flowers, crinolines, and Civil War bal- 
 lads. He had remained in that age. 
 
 " Quite a houseful for a fact," I said. 
 
 " Yes, but Moore House is large." 
 
 " True." 
 
 " And Miss Betty likes people about." 
 
 " Also true." 
 
 " She will rejoice to see you, Master Charles, I 'm 
 sure " he paused, thoughtfully puffing his pipe 
 " for I think she has a fond affection for you, indeed 
 I do." 
 
 " What leads you to that conclusion, Andrew ? " 
 
 " Because two weeks ago, as I was polishing the 
 door-plate of the house in New York, she came 
 up the step and addressed me. She was but newly 
 returned from South America, where she had been 
 sojourning, and she inquired after you, Master 
 Charles, and I said you were very well. ' I hope 
 he will do no foolish thing because of the letter 
 I wrote,' said she. I said, ' He 's already done it, 
 Miss Betty ; he 's been gone a wanderer thee two 
 years.' Then she stood awhile looking sorrowful.
 
 AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE 45 
 
 So I know her tender heart was grieved. In conse- 
 quence I said, ' I '11 write to Master Charles to come 
 home.' And she cried out, * No, no ! But I would 
 like to see him, Andrew, if he were here.' ' 
 
 "The deuce she did!" 
 
 " Yes, and then she went away. So I think she 
 has a fond affection for you." 
 
 " Not at all," said I. 
 
 " I do, indeed." 
 
 We sat and smoked in silence, but at last I grew 
 restive. I could no longer sit in peace while the 
 wild hope he had awakened struggled in my breast, 
 so against Andrew's protest I drew on my oil- 
 skins. Action was what I needed; I would breast 
 my way against the gale to the village, for, as 
 it was, this was the second day I had been cooped 
 up. Out of the house therefore I made my way, 
 sluiced as I went with rain and buffeted by roaring 
 gusts. 
 
 Evidences however that the storm was spending 
 itself were at hand. Now and again a lull occurred 
 between the fierce blasts of wind ; the rain no longer 
 dashed down steadily, but blew across the sea in 
 lessening squalls, and this storm-veil which blotted 
 out all sight was half the time but fog and spin- 
 drift; overhead the clouds were breaking, permit- 
 ting brief fleeting bars of sunshine to shoot slant- 
 ing down on earth or sea, while far out along the 
 horizon there glimmered a pale and azure light that 
 betokened a welcome change of weather. I fol-
 
 46 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 lowed the western beach to the village. Huge waves 
 pursued each other along the black waters, a heavy 
 surf thundered on all shores, and The Throat, choked 
 with storm-driven floods, boiled and tossed in a 
 mad current not born of any tide. 
 
 Coming down from his little patch of garden 
 which lay in a clearing in the fringe of pines near- 
 by the village, I perceived Gaspard Levesque. He 
 was a little, withered old fellow, the boat-maker of 
 the community and an inveterate though harmless 
 gossip. Next after God he loved his boats, his vege- 
 tables, and good talk. He was bent over by much 
 carpentering, but he was spry, and both fingers and 
 tongue were very nimble. 
 
 " Hola, is it you, Charles ? " he exclaimed, peer- 
 ing at me from under his hat. " I heard that you 
 passed through the village two evenings ago upon 
 your arrival. It 's long and you are big since last 
 you were here." He shook my hand, delighted, 
 chattering. 
 
 " You 're no older to-day than yesterday, this year 
 than the twenty past, uncle," I answered. 
 
 " Ah, except in the left leg, which is worthless 
 with rheumatism." 
 
 " And Lavouche tell me all the news." 
 
 " Alas, we 've had many changes, many unfor- 
 tunate changes." 
 
 Coming into the village and to his house, which 
 was at the near end of the street, we entered the 
 workshop, one large single room which comprised
 
 AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE 47 
 
 the whole ground floor. In the rear there was 
 a wide arched door, now closed, through which 
 boats could be brought or dispatched on rollers, 
 a door wide enough to allow the passage of a 
 great wain. An odor of new pine permeated the 
 air; on the walls were suspended tools and bundles 
 of wood; boards were piled along the sides; over 
 the floor were strewn little heaps of shavings; 
 while on a pair of cross-trees rested an upturned 
 boat. 
 
 Lavouche had been, I soon perceived from his 
 account, not greatly disturbed by events; indeed, 
 its life these fifteen years past was for the most part 
 placid as the sea on a summer day. Death had 
 come now and again among its members, as might 
 be expected and in the natural pursuance of their 
 occupations; births kept the community at its sta- 
 tionary number ; and fishing went on very much as 
 God would have it, that is to say, with good years 
 and bad years. All told, the village had now some 
 hundred and fifty souls two-score of men and an 
 equal number of wives, a dozen youths with numer- 
 ous maidens ready for marriage, and children thick 
 as shoals of herring. " Yet it was not what it once 
 was, this village," he said with a sigh, " for, look ! 
 there are a dozen empty houses along the street. 
 No, three quarters of a century ago Lavouche 
 throve, what with fat fish and occasional and harm- 
 less smuggling; but to-day the fish are seldom fat 
 and there is no smuggling at all." True, there had
 
 48 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 been some new-comers lately, three or four fellows, 
 who had arrived from Canada and before that from 
 France. They were not however so industrious or 
 peace-loving as the fishermen of Lavouche ; they had 
 seen the world at Brest, Rochelle, Quebec, and 
 found the wine of the inn here more to their taste 
 than the spray tossed by fishing-boats. Quarrels 
 were also frequent among them. But if they chose 
 to stay, what could be done? And old Gaspard 
 spread his hands and lifted his brows. 
 
 Agreeing with him that nothing whatever could 
 be done, I took my way up the gusty street to where 
 reposed the inn. I remembered the inn-woman 
 vividly, a plump undemonstrative person who sat 
 at her window knitting all day long, rising only to 
 serve her patrons or, if argument grew noisy, to ex- 
 claim, " Quiet, quiet ! " Her remarkable powers of 
 long silence and brief response had formerly stirred 
 my boyish wonder; now I was curious to see if 
 time had made her more garrulous. But in this 
 anticipation of a change I was to be disappointed; 
 when I had taken a seat near her and she had 
 brought me a goblet of red wine, I opened the con- 
 versation, after a glance at the dim rear of the 
 long room where half a dozen men were gathered 
 round a table. 
 
 "Do you remember me? I am Charles Wood- 
 worth." 
 
 " Yes," said she. 
 
 " It 's been a long time since I had the pleasure
 
 AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE 49 
 
 of seeing you, Madame Corbeau. Custom still con- 
 tinues good ? All goes well ? " A single affirmative 
 answered these questions. " My old playmates must 
 be grown-up men, where are they? There was 
 Antoine Revillion " 
 
 " Here." 
 
 "Pierre Trombard?" 
 
 " Fishing." 
 
 " And Louis Loumes? " 
 
 " Drowned." 
 
 " Then where is Jean, whom I liked best of all 
 and who now is undoubtedly a big strong fellow? 
 We were of an age, madame, and like brothers. 
 Where can I find Jean ? " 
 
 She laid down her knitting and uttered a shrill 
 call. A sleepy tousle-headed boy appeared, whom 
 she directed to summon Jean Gervais to come to me 
 from his house; then she went on to state briefly 
 that the fishermen were taking advantage of their 
 present enforced leisure in mending nets. The 
 recollection of the German flashing through my 
 mind, I inquired if she had any information of him. 
 It appeared that he was staying at her inn, a gentle- 
 man by the name of Von Hussman, German truly, 
 as I had said, but able to speak French of a sort 
 not the French of Lavouche who had come to a 
 quiet place by the sea to recover his health from a 
 stroke. I hid a smile; my pursuer was not, it 
 seemed, without a certain sense of humor. 
 
 So he was still here! Well, the storm may have
 
 50 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 prevented his departure, but his presence looked to 
 me more like the result of a steady purpose; I would 
 keep an eye out for friend Von Hussman. Here in 
 the village however he was under a handicap. I 
 was among friends, a word from me would bring 
 them crowding to my assistance ; on the other hand, 
 he was alone and among people who had a natural 
 antipathy for his race. His courage could not be 
 questioned, I had to admit, and the more I studied 
 his presence the more it loomed as a perplexing 
 problem. 
 
 In the midst of my reflections Jean Gervais en- 
 tered, now a tall, bronzed, smiling fellow, far dif- 
 ferent from the stripling to whom I bade good-bye 
 years before. The raindrops which dropped from 
 his sou'wester he shook off with a jerk of his head ; 
 then we gazed at one another, endeavoring each to 
 recall the boy he had known, marking the changes 
 wrought by time; finally we put forth our hands 
 and gripped them in a clasp that spoke undiminished 
 affection. 
 
 " And it is you ? " he said, eyes sparkling. 
 " You 've come back to Lavouche at last." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " Behold ! " He opened his arms wide, smiling. 
 Unlike most of the men of the village, he wore 
 neither beard nor moustache; labor at oar, at sail, 
 at nets had thickened his body and broadened his 
 chest; life on the water and in the sharp salt air 
 had given him vigorous health. And now, radiant,
 
 AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE 51 
 
 delighted, full of the happiness of seeing me once 
 more, he leaned elbows on the table and gazed into 
 my eyes while we talked. 
 
 At the end of half an hour I said, " I want a cat- 
 boat, Jean. Can you get me one ? " 
 
 " You shall have mine only " He hesitated. 
 " Sometimes I would like to use it of a Sunday. 
 When I 'm not out with the nets and when the 
 weather is fair, I sail with Marie Deschenel. We 're 
 to be married in November." 
 
 I clapped him on the shoulder. " Any time 
 any time you wish it. It will always be on the 
 beach before the Lodge. My felicitations to you 
 on your future joy. I '11 come and dance at the 
 wedding." 
 
 " You are not married, Charles ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Not so lucky." 
 
 A flash of mischief came into his eyes. 
 
 " Ma'm'selle Moore has had me take her sailing 
 already since she arrived; Ma'm'selle loves the 
 water. Now that you have the boat " He 
 stopped, smiling the suggestion. 
 
 " I see ; then you 'd have no one to look after 
 except Marie. Cunning Jean ! " 
 
 " Oh, no. But you would find Ma'm'selle charm- 
 ing. There 's a young man there " he made a 
 gesture towards the opposite side of the island where 
 stood Moore House " from whom she might be 
 pleased to be relieved. He is " Stopping 
 abruptly, he knit his brows and sank into thought,
 
 52 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 oblivious of my presence. Thus he remained until 
 all at once he brushed his hand across his forehead 
 as if to dispel the subject which engaged him, turned 
 to the inn- woman, and ordered a measure of wine. 
 " Forgive me," he apologized, but made no further 
 reference to his abstraction. From now on his 
 talk did not move so cheerfully; a moody shadow 
 still lay upon his countenance. 
 
 It was at this moment that an altercation broke 
 forth among the men who sat at the table in the 
 rear of the room. Voices were raised in acrimo- 
 nious argument. All but two of the drinkers fell 
 silent, but these spat angry words at each other in 
 rapid French. Owing to the dim light which lay in 
 that part of the inn, I could not distinguish their 
 faces; one man was large and at every utterance 
 thumped the board with his fist, the other was small 
 and crouched down in his seat until his head was 
 drawn into his shoulders, but all the while he snapped 
 retorts incessantly. 
 
 ' Those rotten fish from Marseilles ! " growled 
 Jean, and turned back to me. 
 
 At that instant the little man shot some word that 
 stung the other to fury. The latter leaned across 
 the table, striking at the speaker with his open palm ; 
 but the smaller with unexpected agility leaped from 
 his seat and out of the way of the slap, then he 
 darted forward, rapped and overturned his assail- 
 ant's goblet of wine, whirled about, and ran for the 
 door. A curse escaped the lips of the larger. He
 
 AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE 53 
 
 stared down at the spilled wine for an instant with 
 fallen jaw. Then he seized the heavy glass and 
 hurled it after the fleeing figure ; but rage made his 
 aim poor, it went wild, sailing to one side and smash- 
 ing against the wall over our heads. The little fel- 
 low jerked open the door and vanished, while a 
 sprinkle of glass showered Jean and me. 
 
 " Here you, Pilon ! " my companion cried, spring- 
 ing to his feet. 
 
 The thrower came forward, after quenching his 
 thirst uninvited from a companion's goblet. Appar- 
 ently the wine appeased his anger, for he wiped his 
 moustache and said in a boisterous voice, " Hello, 
 Jean. Nearly hooked you instead of that little 
 cat." 
 
 " Monsieur, you must pay," the inn-woman inter- 
 jected. 
 
 " Why not, madame ? " With a lordly air he 
 tossed a coin into her lap. "Who is this, Jean?" 
 and he indicated me. 
 
 " A friend," Jean replied briefly. 
 
 Placing one hand on his hip and stroking his 
 moustache with the other, the roisterer stared me 
 over. Not so tall as Jean or I, yet he had a thick 
 barrel of a body; his eyes were full and protruding, 
 his head large; and he comported himself in that 
 manner which is assumed by certain insolent char- 
 acters in French towns, a mixture of assured 
 nonchalance, abruptness, egotism, and ferocious 
 swagger.
 
 54 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 "I I am Pilon," said he, and his hand twirled 
 his moustache with a flourish. 
 
 I glanced at him indifferently. The information 
 which he contributed did not interest me in the 
 slightest, so I turned to Jean. Under the impression 
 no doubt that I was a visitor from some neighboring 
 fishing-village because I wore oilskins and anxious 
 to stamp his importance upon my mind, he repeated 
 his statement. 
 
 " Some people are very tiresome," I remarked to 
 Jean, who was scowling. 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And annoying." 
 " Exceedingly." 
 
 " Ha ! " burst in an angry exclamation from the 
 man's lips. 
 
 I turned about in my seat. 
 
 " What is it you want? " I asked. " Your apology 
 for the broken glass is accepted, therefore nothing 
 remained to be added. You are interrupting us." 
 
 At this deflection of the talk he was at a loss 
 what to answer. His eyes moved from me to Jean 
 and from Jean back to me, his mind vainly seek- 
 ing a point to resent. That he had been drinking 
 freely was evident ; his face was darkly flushed, the 
 veins were distended upon his forehead, his cap 
 was awry, and the odor of brandy was strong upon 
 his breath. Past him and still sitting at the table, 
 I perceived the other four men looking at us and 
 attentively listening.
 
 AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE 55 
 
 "I am Pilon," he at last stammered; "I invite 
 you to drink at our table." 
 
 " Our wine is before our hands," said Jean. 
 
 " Let your friend answer," he growled. 
 
 " As Jean says, our wine is here." 
 
 " Perhaps you are fastidious you ? " he sneered. 
 
 I kept silent, though a retort trembled on the tip 
 of my tongue. 
 
 "Or a coward?" 
 
 " Pilon, to your table at once ! " 
 
 It was the inn-woman who commanded, and her 
 mandate was not to be ignored. He glanced at 
 her, hesitated, then cocking his cap rejoined his 
 companions, where he broke out into laughter. 
 
 " He 's a rogue," Jean said, lighting his pipe. 
 " Because he comes from France, he and two others, 
 the little one who flew out the door from his glass, 
 and that fat keg- fellow at his elbow, Descarte 
 the others are young men here in Lavouche, who 
 think it fine to swim in such company because he 
 has traveled, Pilon thinks he will show us what a 
 terrible fellow he is. Well, he leaves me alone. 
 Sometimes he and his mates fish, sometimes not. 
 The three live in the empty house next to this, the 
 house with the iron nails in the door, where Piet' 
 Mosette lived formerly." Awhile he sat glowering, 
 then asked, " What should one of Ma'm'selle Betty's 
 guests have to do with such as Pilon? For I saw 
 one of them go into the door with that braggart 
 yonder." Again a pause, and this time Jean's look
 
 56 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 brooded on the table. " Well, for that matter, what 
 should one of them have to do with my sister he 
 who has been but ten days here ? " 
 
 "Your sister?" I said. 
 
 "My half-sister, to speak accurately. Margot, 
 you remember her? " 
 
 I nodded. When last I had seen the girl, she was 
 a dark, slim, vagabondish thing, whose black eyes 
 gleamed from through her unbound hair. Nine 
 years old at that time, she must be twenty-three or 
 four now. It was strange she was not married, 
 for the daughters of the fishermen wed young; 
 yet she had always been a strange girl, given to 
 solitary musings even when small, or to wandering 
 about the island or the coast rocks in elfin loneliness. 
 She was a child by Jean's father's second wife, a 
 woman of St. John who had died two or three years 
 after abiding in Lavouche and who was of another 
 and darker French strain than the fishermen, who 
 were of light complexion and not black. This child 
 had followed her mother's breed of the race in looks 
 and temperament. 
 
 "It's peculiar," I said. 
 
 " What should he a secretary, he says he is, to 
 the other gentleman at Moore House want with 
 a daughter of Lavouche? He is not of us." 
 
 " Perhaps he 's studying local character," I sug- 
 gested. 
 
 But Jean shook his head moodily, and as our wine 
 was finished and supper-time near we rose to go.
 
 AN AFTERNOON AT LAVOUCHE 57 
 
 But Pilon was not yet satisfied with his share of the 
 afternoon. 
 
 " My fine young rooster, I '11 have to cut your 
 comb some day," he shouted across the room. 
 "You the blood will drip." 
 
 " Come along," said Jean, " never mind him, he '11 
 forget all about it." And when we stood in the 
 street, " It will be fine to-morrow, but nevertheless 
 bad fishing for one more day. I '11 bring the boat 
 over early in the morning." 
 
 At the end of the street I perceived some fifty 
 yards ahead a woman's figure preceding me, clutch- 
 ing a shawl about her head and holding her skirts, 
 which whipped in the wind. She pursued her way 
 where the cliff of rock fell into a gentle grassy slope. 
 Only a casual interest was excited in my mind by 
 her appearance; she might be bent on any one of 
 a dozen errands that would engage any wife of 
 Lavouche; but my look idly followed her, as it 
 will the only animate object in a landscape. She 
 turned and went up to a spot not far from old 
 Gaspard Levesque's garden patch, disappearing be- 
 hind a clump of bushes. I continued along the 
 beach, and it was only by chance as I drew even 
 with where she had diverged that I glanced in that 
 direction. There, possibly a dozen boat-lengths 
 away, she stood under a tree talking with a man. 
 More than that he wore a rain-coat with collar 
 turned up and a cap I made out nothing of him. 
 As it happened, at the same instant I gazed at them
 
 58 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 they turned their faces towards me. I caught the 
 sound of a low exclamation. The man reached 
 forth a hand and drew the woman behind the tree 
 till both were hidden. 
 
 " Now that 's curious for Lavouche," I thought. 
 " On a first guess, I 'd say the one was Jean's sister 
 and the other the secretary."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 
 
 At two o'clock the next afternoon I stepped 
 aboard the cat-boat which Jean had brought over 
 to my wharf and beat my way up against the wind 
 close under the lee of the eastern shore. The gale 
 of the previous day had diminished to a fresh breeze, 
 and the broad Atlantic, still heaving in immense 
 swells that rolled from the northeast, sparkled with 
 a thousand gems beneath the brilliant sun. The 
 keen delight of it all, the flash of water, the leap of 
 spray, the slap of wave against bow, the keen, pun- 
 gent scent of salt, and the song in the sail stirred 
 my pulses and kept them beating joyously. There is 
 something in the aspect of the broad sea, spreading 
 apparently without end, moving without rest, that 
 speaks a challenge. Unconsciously we animate it 
 with a gigantic spirit; we endow it with human 
 qualities that contain something more, something 
 vaster, something beyond our perception; and this 
 very mystery calls to men's souls. This I felt and 
 accepted without analysis; hand on tiller and me- 
 chanically directing the boat up the shore until I 
 should reach the open bay beyond, I drank my fill
 
 60 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 of all the glorious scene and lost myself in a sen- 
 sation of physical buoyancy. 
 
 But a hail, a feminine hail, interrupted my ecstasy ; 
 I returned to matters at hand. Looking up, I per- 
 ceived fifty yards before me a small wharf and 
 higher up, at the top of the gently sloping, open 
 lawn, Moore House, with portico columns white 
 against the green background of wood. On the 
 wharf were three figures, those of a man and two 
 girls; one of the latter persons waved a hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 " Jean, Jean, take me with you," she called. 
 
 For the fraction of a minute I hesitated, then 
 shifted the tiller a trifle so as to bring the cat-boat 
 alongside the wharf. Betty had recognized Jean's 
 craft; she imagined that she recognized Jean and 
 therein Betty would presently experience a shock, 
 of what nature I did not undertake to prophesy. 
 Carefully keeping the slatting sail between me 
 and the little party, I guided my vessel gently to 
 its mooring. 
 
 The trio were evidently torn by discussion of the 
 projected excursion of the signaler. 
 
 ' You don't want to go out with that fellow again, 
 surely," the man exclaimed. 
 
 " Exactly what I do." Betty's voice was firm. 
 
 "Oh, stay ashore; you'll be drenched," urged 
 the second girl. 
 
 "What's a little drenching!" scorned Betty. 
 " Better come too." She put her foot on the gun-
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 61 
 
 wale at the instant of the boat's rise on the swell 
 and sprang lightly in. " Here I am, Jean." 
 
 " Well, I " her male companion began. 
 
 " Never mind, Mr. Davis, I see that you too are 
 afraid of a wetting. Push off, Jean." 
 
 The white duck skirt, one shoulder, and the back 
 of Betty's golden head were visible to me, but the 
 mast cut off the whole vision of her. Flinging one 
 arm over the tiller, I lighted my pipe and settled 
 back, awaiting developments. 
 
 "I'm glad to get away from them, Jean, just 
 at this minute," she stated after a time ; " they ex- 
 asperate me, they 're so afraid of a drop of water." 
 
 She continued to look straight ahead, talking over 
 her shoulder. For my part, I remained silent; ap- 
 parently she expected no reply, as she continued to 
 maintain her position in abstracted contemplation. 
 When at last we outreached the island, she lifted 
 her head to the breeze and cried: 
 
 " Point her up closer and get out to sea." Then 
 added flippantly, " Stick her nose into it." 
 
 " Oui, ma'm'selle," said I meekly. 
 
 "Closer!" 
 
 Obedient, as a sailor ever should be under cap- 
 tain's command, I pointed the boat into the eye of 
 the wind. The sail swung farther and farther in and 
 stood stiff as a sheet of iron. Slap! A dash of 
 spray leaped high over the bow and sprinkled us 
 briskly. 
 
 "Jean!"
 
 62 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 "Oui, ma'm'selle?" 
 
 " It 's glorious but I 'm coming back." 
 
 I paid off the sheet and eased up on the tiller, 
 for I expected a gust from another direction when 
 she should pass round the mast and see me ; to point 
 up in two winds at once was beyond my nerve. 
 Placing her hand on the mast and carefully watch- 
 ing her footing, she moved round the stick, balanced, 
 and dropped to the seat just in front of me without 
 a glance at her crew of one. 
 
 " I am here," she stated with assured confidence. 
 
 " Ah, ma'm'selle." 
 
 " Now point her " 
 
 Whirling about, she cut off the sentence as with 
 a knife. She stared with round blue eyes and parted 
 lips. She was the same lovely Betty, lovelier in 
 fact, with stray locks blowing about her face, her 
 figure trim in white duck as a sailor girl's should 
 be, and cheeks all aglow with color. 
 
 " I was about to propose that we tack out to sea," 
 said I. 
 
 " Charles or his ghost ! What are you doing 
 here?" 
 
 " Is that intended as a verdict of disapprobation ? " 
 I questioned. 
 
 " I thought you were in Texas." 
 
 " Even you, Betty, may err." 
 
 She gazed at me speculatively, as she would have 
 done at a seal or a porpoise, had she suddenly dis- 
 covered that such sat in the stern steering the craft.
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 63 
 
 " And you are here." 
 
 " That is my present conviction." 
 
 " You were a cowboy." 
 
 " Well, now I 'm a sailor." 
 
 " And came to Lavouche." 
 
 " To Lavouche." 
 
 " Ah." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 And so our conversation simmered down to a 
 mutual gaze. But Betty's, I presently perceived, 
 while dwelling on me passed through and beyond 
 and traversed a wider field. What her reflections 
 might be I could only conjecture: she sat rapt, her 
 lips parted, her eyes fixed, her person immovable. 
 I watched her awhile, then gave my attention to 
 examining sail and sea. When I returned to con- 
 sideration of her countenance, she was still trans- 
 fixed. 
 
 All at once she burst out : " How did you come 
 here?" 
 
 " How should I ? By boat and train." 
 
 " No, no, I mean What did Andrew write 
 you? I demand to know." 
 
 "Andrew? About things in general. Weather 
 the house the mice in the closet this and 
 that." 
 
 " Did he write about me ? Did he dare do 
 that?" 
 
 " Andrew never wrote about anything one-thou- 
 sandth part so interesting. Andrew is faithfully
 
 64 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 careful never to write about anything that does 
 not concern that old and honored family, the 
 Woodworths." 
 
 She was but half assured. "And never men- 
 tioned my name ? " 
 
 " I can state positively that your name never ap- 
 peared in any letter." 
 
 ' Then you did not follow me to Lavouche ? " 
 
 " I did n't even know that you were back from 
 Venezuela until I reached New York, and at that 
 time my arrangements were completed to come here. 
 You may rest easy, I did not follow you." 
 
 For the space of a minute she remained silent, 
 while the boat slipped over the rise of a swell and 
 glided down into the hollow beyond. 
 
 'You might have been gallant enough to say 
 that you did," she remarked shortly. 
 
 " Gallant enough ! Do you suggest that you 
 would have been pleased to have me follow you?" 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Nothing of importance. Kindly take me back 
 now." 
 
 Her look was turned away. Leaning one elbow 
 on her knee and resting her chin in the cup of her 
 hand, she gazed at the water and apparently ignored 
 my presence. Of all enigmatical, vexing persons! 
 Without a word, but with resentment in my heart, 
 I swung the boat around and let it sweep before the 
 wind straight for the island. She continued to con-
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 65 
 
 centrate her look upon the water, and I, equally 
 silent, tended tiller and sail. 
 
 " Thank you," she said, as she stepped upon the 
 wharf. " I 've enjoyed the hour." 
 
 " I shall treasure that expression of enthusiasm," 
 I responded dryly. 
 
 " Sometime again perhaps in the future " 
 
 " Yes, the dim and distant future." 
 
 " And I must go. I am late. I promised to play 
 e carte with Senor Del Hervalle." 
 
 At that name I nearly upset the boat, springing 
 to my feet. 
 
 " Who ! " I demanded in excitement. 
 
 " Did you learn to shout in that fashion at the 
 top of your lungs while in Texas? I said Senor 
 Del Hervalle, one of our guests." 
 
 I looked past her up the slope, where I observed 
 several persons moving about the lawn. The news 
 dumfounded me. Del Hervalle D'Urville here, 
 a guest of the Moores! 
 
 " That infamous scoundrel ! " I burst out. 
 
 " You 're speaking of one of our company, sir." 
 
 "Of course I am if it 's Del Hervalle of 
 Venezuela." 
 
 " One of our friends," she continued haughtily. 
 
 " He ought to be hung, the blackguard ! " 
 
 Her head was very straight, her chin high. 
 
 " Our acquaintance is barely renewed when you 
 cast reflections on a man you know nothing of, hold- 
 ing an honored position and our guest. Your ex-
 
 66 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 perience in Texas seems to have impaired your cour- 
 tesyI will not go so far as to say manners." 
 After a pause she went on. " And therefore it had 
 best not be renewed at all." 
 " As you please." 
 
 1 And I am generally occupied with my visitors." 
 " I expect to be pretty busy myself." 
 " And so " She looked at me coldly. 
 " Exactly. One favor, if you please. Be so kind 
 as not to mention my name to Senor Del Hervalle." 
 " I imagine he '11 hardly be interested." 
 " Ah ! there may be two opinions about that." 
 "You know him?" 
 
 "It's immaterial a casual acquaintance once, 
 I may say. You 've not yet granted my request." 
 " Certainly I '11 not mention you." 
 'Then we can part and meet hereafter as 
 strangers," I said, pushing the boat away. "So 
 that is settled." 
 
 A visible struggle was going on in her mind, I 
 perceived, watching her out of the corner of my 
 eye. She took a step, then halted, to face about 
 again. Perplexity, curiosity, doubt sat on her brow ; 
 her blue eyes dwelt on me, questioning. At last she 
 succumbed. 
 
 " When did you meet him ? " 
 I smiled and shook out the sheet to the breeze. 
 "At the muzzle of a revolver informally, as one 
 would say." 
 
 With that reply to prick her wonder, I scudded
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 67 
 
 away. Once I cast a glance over my shoulder and 
 observed her still standing on the wharf staring 
 after me. 
 
 It appeared presently that others had been inter- 
 ested in my sailing. When I beached the cat-boat 
 and mounted the path to the Lodge, I was met by 
 Andrew standing in the door. A visitor had called 
 during my absence, waited awhile, and finally taken 
 his departure; from the description which Andrew 
 drew it could have been no one but my German. 
 He had inquired for me, sat for a quarter of an 
 hour upon the veranda where he enjoyed the sea 
 breeze and the prospect, then expressed a desire to 
 see the interior of the dwelling, which he had highly 
 praised. A gleam of suspicion flashed through me. 
 I rushed into the house and unlocked and jerked 
 open the drawer where I had placed the map. Thank 
 Heaven, it was still safe! 
 
 " Andrew, that man 's an enemy," I announced. 
 
 " Can it be, Master Charles ! He was so polite 
 and so interested." 
 
 " And wanted to know how the rooms were ar- 
 ranged, I presume, and the doors and windows ? " 
 
 "No, Master Charles." 
 
 " Well, no doubt he used his eyes. He wants this 
 paper, Andrew. It has a particular value, and must 
 be hid where no one can lay finger on it." 
 
 Andrew folded his hands across his stomach and 
 considered. 
 
 " There is the bottom of the desk," he suggested ;
 
 68 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 but I shook my head. " Or the chimney seat, where 
 your father sometimes kept books." This was no 
 better. " Or the " He paused. 
 
 " We have n't a secret panel or hole under the 
 hearth-stone, such as novels always provide in their 
 houses, worse luck." 
 
 "No, Master Charles, but I was going to sug- 
 gest " 
 
 "Lead on." 
 
 ' To suggest that if the paper was concealed in 
 some good place which the man would not naturally 
 suspect he would not find it." 
 
 " Andrew, you have uttered a remarkable state- 
 ment," I rejoined with gentle irony. 
 
 A glow came into his eyes; he began to rub his 
 hands softly together. 
 
 'Your father used to say that I sometimes 
 thought of things no one else in the world ever 
 did." 
 
 " Father was an observant man." 
 
 " So he was, extraordinarily observant, and there- 
 fore I might think of a place no one else would 
 ever consider. And it has come to my mind, Master 
 Charles, that seeing this man is your enemy and 
 anxious to secure the paper, he might never think 
 to look for it in the bottom of the silver tankard 
 which holds the sherry wine. Your father once 
 had some money here when a number of rough 
 fellows stopped at Lavouche. I hid it there for him. 
 He said my suggestion was a good one and that
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 69 
 
 the money would undoubtedly be preserved if 
 kept in spirits." He beamed upon me immensely 
 satisfied. 
 
 " The map would be soaked and spoiled." 
 
 " Oh, no ; I will make a rubber cover to encase 
 it and then put it in a flat silver dish with a water- 
 tight screw lid which is in the dish closet. This will 
 fit into the bottom with a little wedge, and when the 
 tankard is full of wine no one will imagine it there. 
 I shall have it ready by to-morrow." 
 
 I leaned back in my chair. 
 
 "Andrew," said I, "you have the making of a 
 great criminal in you." 
 
 " Your father sometimes complimented me on my 
 ideas. I 'm so much about the house that I observe 
 things that others are not likely to see. I will make 
 the rubber sack this evening." 
 
 " Very well, I leave that part to you, and there 's 
 no immediate danger in my carrying it until you 
 have your little cache ready." And I slipped it into 
 an inner pocket. 
 
 Complacently pleased that I had adopted his plan, 
 he brought the screw-top dish and the tankard to 
 demonstrate his ingenious place of secretion. It was 
 quite as he said; the dish fitted neatly into the 
 depth of the tankard and, indeed, when the latter 
 should be full of wine would, unless careful ex- 
 amination were made, be mistaken for the bottom 
 of the receptacle. A thorough thief would he be 
 who would discover the map in such a place.
 
 70 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 That evening I ate my supper in silence, for there 
 was more than enough fresh matter in the occur- 
 rences of the day to give my mind occupation. My 
 present status, or rather lack of it, in Elizabeth 
 Moore's regard was for one thing sufficiently en- 
 grossing. She had administered a dismissal that 
 afternoon which should according to the usual con- 
 ventions mark the end of our acquaintance and my 
 hopes; this I revolved moodily, refusing to accept 
 the decree. Suddenly I straightened up. She ex- 
 pected me to fade out of her life in silence and 
 with averted head like a melancholy wraith; well, 
 I should do nothing of the kind, not if I knew my- 
 self. There should be no withdrawal on my part, 
 to cherish in solitude a sweet and lonely memory; 
 on the contrary, I should follow Jack Maitland's 
 advice and " get busy." A sense of calm confidence 
 on a sudden pervaded me; here was a chance to 
 emulate the Roman warriors who stole Sabine wives, 
 or the noble redman who went forth and brought 
 him a helpmeet into his lodge. Not quite that, of 
 course, but if Texas had rubbed the grain off my 
 manners I would at least convince Miss Betty that 
 there was iron under the velvet. 
 
 Pushing back my chair, I filled my pipe and 
 passed into the room where the fire was blazing on 
 the hearth. One question determined, I was im- 
 mediately confronted by another. What stand 
 should I take with D'Urville? The difficulty of the 
 situation was apparent, while the obstacles in the
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 71 
 
 way of laying the rogue by the heels were numerous ; 
 for it was no longer a humble mine-mechanic with 
 whom I had to deal, but a man of rank clothed with 
 the protection of a foreign nation, an envoy with 
 privileges and honors, in reality a guest of my own 
 government. In the end I might secure his recall, 
 but nothing more. D'Urville was a dangerous man. 
 Once he learned that my purpose was to disclose his 
 former roguery, he would without question make a 
 counter-stroke of some kind. It would be necessary 
 to go with cautious steps and prepared hands when 
 I went to his unmasking. He was wise in years, 
 while I was young ; he had experience in craft, prac- 
 tice in dissembling, skill in calculating narrow 
 chances, coolness in danger, all the weapons with 
 which to wage a concealed and relentless warfare 
 where mercy is not shown and quarter never given, 
 while against these I had only youth to pit, courage, 
 and knowledge of his desperate character and evil 
 past. It was a prospect to make one draw back, yet 
 the contest lured me on. 
 
 As a preliminary I decided upon a survey of 
 Moore House a flicker of curiosity too was in 
 the decision, a desire to see again the face of this 
 man who had been an ancient enemy and with whom 
 I was about to renew hostilities. 
 
 At about nine o'clock, accordingly, I buttoned my 
 coat snugly, took a Scotch cap for my head, and 
 set out. 
 
 I made my way by a path cut through the wood,
 
 72 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 which led to the road that ran from Moore House 
 to the village. A full moon shone in the sky, whose 
 beams penetrated through the wide-spreading boughs 
 of the trees in lances and arrows of mellow light. 
 All was quiet as I strode along the soundless carpet 
 of pine needles; an odor of balsam filled the air, 
 the heavy shadows laid themselves here like black 
 cloaks, and only the steady insistent music of the 
 waves rolling upon the beach beat in my ears. Com- 
 ing into the road, which was scarcely better lighted, 
 I turned to the right and continued my advance. 
 Moore House reposed, I remembered, not more 
 than a hundred yards from the junction of path and 
 road, and presently I saw its gleaming lights. 
 
 About the house a considerable space had been 
 cleared years before, but certain natural features 
 had been preserved clumps of trees, bushes, small 
 copses. I halted in the shadow of a huge tree that 
 stood in the fringe where the road debouched and 
 examined the structure of the dwelling. The south 
 side faced me, the servants' entrance was north, 
 while the columned front opened eastward and over- 
 looked the ocean. In the wide spaces of the lawn 
 the moon shone full and clear, marking every in- 
 equality, every upstanding stick and stalk. No one 
 was in sight, so I stepped forward and by taking 
 advantage of cover worked my way around in front 
 and in close to the large veranda. The wide door 
 stood open, through which lamplight fell from the 
 hall, but that was all I noted.
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 73 
 
 Presently came the sound of voices, and there 
 stepped through the door Elizabeth, the other girl, 
 and Mr. Moore. The latter's slender figure moved 
 between those of his companions, and his thin, 
 smooth-shaven face appeared for an instant in the 
 light; an indulgent smile was on his lips, and he 
 was speaking in the perfectly modulated tones I 
 knew so well. My position was not particularly 
 enviable; if I retreated they would no doubt per- 
 ceive my moving figure in the moonlight, and if I 
 remained they might come straight upon my bush 
 to discover me crouching behind it; explanations 
 of my skulking position would be embarrassing. 
 But it seemed that fortune was for the time upon 
 my side, as they paused, chatted a moment, and 
 proceeded in a leisurely stroll down the slope towards 
 the water, as if attracted by the beauty of the moon- 
 lit sea. 
 
 With a sigh of relief I watched them depart. 
 Next instant thought of them was forgotten by the 
 appearance of another figure in the doorway a 
 compact, plump little figure ; D'Urville, no other, he 
 himself though masking as Sefior Del Hervalle, a 
 Venezuelan! He stepped forward until he stood 
 beside one of the white, lofty columns. A tall 
 shrub close to the position he occupied was within 
 my line of vision, screening me from sight. Hardly 
 taking thought and by a sudden impulse which urged 
 me to obtain a nearer and clearer view of him, I 
 bent low and stole to this shelter, where peeping
 
 74 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 round I beheld the man not ten feet away. He wore 
 a black frock coat buttoned tightly about his form, 
 and the years had used him well, for he was plumper 
 than ever. In the manner of his former days he 
 wore his beard close cropped and moustaches waxed 
 to fine points. He stood looking out into the night, 
 arms folded, meditating. Here was no longer the 
 modest self-effacing mechanic who used to go about 
 Forge mines in a greasy workman's jumper, but a 
 man of affairs ; the air of constant deference which 
 he had exhibited at Forge was gone and in its place 
 one of resolute dignity and impressive power, as 
 befitted an envoy of a nation. Indeed, his very body 
 seemed to have fed on more royal food. 
 
 For a long time he stood motionless, immersed 
 in contemplation of the beauty of the night, so dif- 
 ferent from that of the tropical country he had left, 
 or busily engaged in weaving plots. Doubtless the 
 latter ; his crafty mind was not apt long to indulge 
 in aught that promised little profit. I watched him. 
 After all, the matter rested solely with me ; the man 
 had everything to gain by burying the past and 
 maintaining his present honorable position, and it 
 would only be when I forced him to defense that 
 he would assume active hostilities. D'Urville was, 
 as I had well learned, no fool. Despite his guilty 
 career, I grudgingly rendered him a meed of ad- 
 miration ; for in order to rise out of a questionable 
 and obscure past in the brief period of two short 
 years to the place he now held, it had required brains
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 75 
 
 and uncommon ability. Castro was no easy man 
 to win a road to, nor a light master to serve. Yet 
 this thing D'Urville had accomplished, and he a 
 foreigner, trod all the crooked road to favor, avoided 
 the byways of betrayal, escaped the pitfalls of spite, 
 threaded the labyrinth of opposing interest, hatred, 
 jealousy, and intrigue, until he now stood as the 
 Venezuelan president's trusted lieutenant. Was it 
 a wonder, then, that while gazing at the figure of 
 the man who stood motionless, with moonlight all 
 about him, I hesitated what to do ? 
 
 But at that instant matters took an unexpected 
 turn, and I knew at once hesitation was no longer 
 to be my course. As stated, I crouched behind a 
 bush not ten feet from the position which D'Urville 
 occupied and slightly on one side. Behind me there 
 was an open space extending to the angle which 
 marked the south end of the house. It was around 
 this corner my assailants must have come, for all 
 at once I heard a light step on the turf at my back, 
 then before I could turn my head a weight fell on 
 me and I was crushed to earth. A twig of the 
 bush behind which I had stooped sharply scratched 
 my cheek as I performed my involuntary abase- 
 ment, and my face was pressed down into the sod. 
 Spitting out grass and dirt, I instinctively drew 
 myself together to cast off this incubus which lay 
 upon my frame; a sudden heave of my body, a 
 quick upward stroke of my elbow into the man's 
 stomach, and he loosened his hold with a hearty
 
 76 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 groan. I struggled to my knees, but a second man 
 leaped at me, seized my wrists, and locked them 
 behind my back in a grip I could not break; at 
 the same time his groaning comrade scrambled to 
 his feet and administered a grievous kick in my ribs. 
 I looked over my shoulder and saw the white im- 
 passioned face of the young man who had attempted 
 that afternoon to dissuade Elizabeth Moore from 
 taking her sail with me; he was drawing back his 
 foot to deal another blow when my captor, whom 
 I could not see, growled: 
 
 "Hold on there stop that! Don't kick him 
 when he 's down." 
 
 But rage had wholly mastered the other; he 
 swung his whole strength behind his toe and caught 
 me in the side. I was on my knees; had it not 
 been for the sustaining grip on my wrists I should 
 have fallen forward, and as it was I turned faint, 
 while a sharp pain darted through my chest, com- 
 pelling me to grit my teeth in order to utter no 
 sound. After a moment I glanced up again. The 
 fellow had withdrawn a pace and remained quiet, 
 though yet convulsed with passion. 
 
 " You coward, I '11 pay that score some day," I 
 said. 
 
 " None of that talk," the man behind me cried 
 gruffly, and with a jerk that seemed to crack my 
 shoulder blades pulled me to my feet. 
 
 " Ha ! what have you here, Davis ? " broke in the 
 voice of a new participant.
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 77 
 
 It was D'Urville. Attracted by the sound of 
 our scuffle, he had advanced to the spot and now 
 stood before me, his bright eyes shining whitely in 
 the pale light. 
 
 " A spy," said the young man who had dealt the 
 kicks. 
 
 " Ha, a spy ! Bring him into the house." 
 
 Into the house we went, therefore, and my feel- 
 ings were those of consternation when, as we stepped 
 under the portico, I heard the voices of Mr. Moore 
 and the young ladies, who were now ascending the 
 slope. D'Urville had not so far recognized me, 
 which was hardly to be expected, since my cap was 
 pushed over my eyes and the scratch on my cheek, 
 the smear of dirt and grass on my face, must have 
 given me all the appearances of a ruffian. The ser- 
 vant, for so he proved to be, kept a firm and un- 
 diminished grip on my wrists yet held behind my 
 back, in all probability imagining that he guarded 
 some desperate housebreaker. The others preceded 
 me until we stopped in the wide hallway, where 
 D'Urville swung about. 
 
 " A spy and here in Lavouche/' he said, his 
 little black' eyes moving over my person. Then in 
 a businesslike tone, which hinted at considerable 
 practice in similar affairs, " Search him." 
 
 His secretary, pale and determined, unbuttoned 
 my coat, patted my pockets, and at last, feeling the 
 folded map, thrust his hand into my breast and 
 drew it out.
 
 78 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " Here 's something." And opening it, " It seems 
 to be a a fortification." 
 
 He scanned it with perplexed eye. D'Urville bent 
 forward to look. Slowly, slowly he leaned forward, 
 as if hypnotized by the sheet. All my evening's 
 folly now rushed upon me. Why had I not stayed 
 at home instead of stealing here on an imbecile's 
 errand? I was about to pay well, too well, for my 
 curiosity. D'Urville suddenly snatched the map into 
 his hands, moving with it nearer to the light. His 
 eyes fed on it, absorbed every line, dot, and dash 
 of the drawing. It was perhaps a full minute that 
 he remained lost to us all while he gazed at the 
 chart, and I looked on in helpless chagrin. The 
 servant, a stout fellow, never relaxed his hold for 
 an instant, but maintained an iron clamp on my 
 wrists, awaiting stolidly the outcome of what to 
 him must have been an extraordinary affair. Davis 
 looked alternately at his employer, at the map, at 
 me, wrinkling his brow in an endeavor to gain some 
 inkling as to D'Urville's concentrated interest. 
 
 At last the Frenchman lifted his head. Still hold- 
 ing the map, he advanced a step to scrutinize me. 
 His black eyes read every feature, every mark of my 
 face, and at last his own countenance grew less in- 
 tent, resumed its placidity; he even smiled. 
 
 " I have wondered, oh, many times what had be- 
 come of this map of cher Frederic" He tapped the 
 map with forefinger. " Woodworth is your name. 
 And now you bring it to me, like a miracle, truly
 
 THE ENVOY OF A GOVERNMENT 79 
 
 like a miracle." And with all the composure in the 
 world, he folded it, while I looked on in disgusted 
 silence, and placed it in an inner pocket. " A spy 
 surely, Davis; we must send this paper away from 
 the island before Mr. Moore returns. No, we 
 must not disturb our good host. It has only to do 
 with Venezuela, this." 
 
 Like a flash his purpose struck my mind. With 
 his usual swift cunning he had conceived the one 
 way to get possession of the map ; once away from 
 the hall he could secrete the paper and invent an ex- 
 planation plausible enough to satisfy Mr. Moore's 
 mind. And now he knew me; recognition had 
 dawned upon him as he searched my face. But he 
 did not know that Mr. Moore was my friend; and 
 at that instant I heard the light voices of the re- 
 turning party at the door. 
 
 " Give me that paper, D'Urville," I demanded. 
 
 His eyes narrowed, but he did not move. 
 
 " Hold your tongue," my captor said, giving my 
 wrists a savage turn. 
 
 Then I did a second foolish thing that night; I 
 looked D'Urville full in the face and smiled. 
 
 " For once you miscalculate, monsieur ; it hap- 
 pens that Mr. Moore and I know each other of old." 
 
 He started. Already his host's feet were on the 
 low step of the portico, the merry chatter of the girls 
 came plainly to our ears. I waited relaxed, enjoy- 
 ing my triumph, and I felt a slight lessening of the 
 servant's grip on my arms at this declaration.
 
 8o THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 D'Urville stood motionless. Then he poured out a 
 rapid stream of utterance, low and imperative, to 
 his secretary. 
 
 " Take this to the place you know. Conceal it. 
 It threatens us. Act swiftly. Ask no questions, 
 but conceal it. Now, at once! " And plunging his 
 hand into his breast once again, D'Urville drew out 
 the map. " That stair that stair Avoid every 
 one. Make haste." 
 
 Davis sprang forward, his sallow face illuminated 
 by the knowledge that there was imperative need to 
 act. Intrigue he was familiar with, an adept in; 
 he needed no second word. Seizing the map, he 
 swiftly, noiselessly leaped up the stair just as Mr. 
 Moore and the two girls stepped within the hall. 
 
 At sight of us they halted dumfounded. But I 
 had already made my resolution, waited but this 
 instant when the servant was looking away from 
 me and at them to put it into execution. With a 
 sudden wrench I tore myself free. A bound and I 
 was at the stair and darting upward four steps at 
 a time. Davis's coat-tails were just disappearing 
 along the hall. Behind me all was confusion. 
 
 " I 've spilled the broth now," said I, as I reached 
 the top step.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 HOW A DOCUMENT MAY ACQUIRE IMPORTANCE 
 
 Davis cast a flying glance back, then vanished 
 around an angle in the hall. One intense purpose 
 dominated me to recapture the map; and this I 
 resolved to do even if necessary to follow the man 
 into his very room. But such refuge was appar- 
 ently not his goal, for he kept straight on until 
 finally darting into a side passage I saw him dash 
 from sight down the servants' stair; memory of 
 its location leaped into my mind, for as a child I 
 had more than once pursued Betty along this very 
 runway, when we had quarreled over a division of 
 cake or when in a flash of temper she had knocked 
 over my house of blocks. So early as that she and 
 I had not agreed. Those were pursuits which ended 
 in nothing more than a pull of her braid of hair; 
 this one would have a more serious end if the fellow 
 sought to retain the chart. For I meant to have it 
 at all costs. 
 
 Down I clattered after him, rushed through a 
 group of startled servants standing motionless in 
 the kitchen, and burst out a rear door. Ten yards 
 in advance ran Davis bareheaded. I saw the folded 
 map in his hand. Fear perhaps winged his feet;
 
 82 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 but anger gave me speed and I gained upon him. 
 Around the corner of the house he ran ; I closed up 
 and reached to seize him, but he swerved towards 
 the wood. By a quick sprint I overtook him, sprang 
 on his back, and he went down with a strangled cry 
 beneath my weight. I wrested the paper from his 
 resistless hand and still resting a knee upon his body 
 put the prize away in my breast-pocket. Strongly 
 tempted as I was to give him a drubbing, the sight 
 of his pallid face and rolling eyes restrained me; 
 he was not a strong man, not so strong as the aver- 
 age, nowhere near so strong as I, and though the 
 soreness in my side still kept fresh the recollection 
 of his dastardly kick it would have been the extreme 
 of brutality to retaliate on so helpless an adversary. 
 
 "Stand up!" I ordered. 
 
 He rose stiffly, silently, and stood motionless. His 
 face was even paler now than it had been before, 
 since I stood close before him, keeping one hand on 
 his arm. He was breathing in short labored inhala- 
 tions, and his lips worked in jerks and twitches; a 
 physical coward, I set him down, and now in a 
 terrible state of apprehension. Placing his hand 
 upon his bosom as if pressing back a pain in the 
 region of his heart, he whipped out a dagger and 
 lunged at me as swiftly as a cornered animal strikes. 
 Its flash in the moonlight gave warning, and I sprang 
 to one side, but not in time to escape a ripped sleeve. 
 I pulled him to me, knocked up the hand holding the 
 weapon, and sent it flying out upon the turf.
 
 A DOCUMENT 83 
 
 " You attempt murder, do you ? " I said, now 
 gripping his arm until I knew it ached. 
 
 But he remained silent as ever, as if he had lost 
 power of speech; only his black eyes were staring 
 large and luminous. He made no resistance. Fright 
 had completely mastered him, and I looked at him 
 in curiosity. His frame was frail ; there was a vague 
 indefinable suggestion in his features, a mixture of 
 races that hinted at several and bespoke none, hy- 
 bridity. The whole person of him suggested an 
 underlying unnaturalness of character and consti- 
 tution, and yet one could not lay a finger on any- 
 thing tangible. It was difficult to imagine that he 
 was the same person who had a short time previous 
 leaped on my back : where had he found the courage ? 
 A curious anomaly ! Now he was as putty ; yet de- 
 spite his fear of what I might do, of terror of 
 physical pain that held him unresisting and dumb, 
 I was conscious that there was present in his look 
 a passion of hatred that no fear, however great, 
 could wholly subdue. 
 
 " Get away from here," I said in disgust. " Go 
 back to your master." 
 
 Obedient as an automaton he walked towards the 
 door and, my anger dissipated, I watched him still 
 curious as to the kind of creature he was. Then I 
 moved to the spot where the dagger had fallen and 
 raised it from where it lay with shining blade upon 
 the grass; it was more of a stiletto than anything 
 else, thin and needle-pointed and with a handle of
 
 84 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 silver. I would keep it, for it was fairly my spoil ; 
 and it would be a relic to have of a strange man 
 and an unusual evening. After all, I had not lost 
 any property by my adventure ; I still had the map. 
 And yet, stay ! Had I not lost something, or rather 
 acquired a new menace? Heretofore the map had 
 only got me the German for an enemy, but now 
 D'Urville, who had been conversant with Douglass's 
 plans and plots, indeed, a partner in them, and who 
 consequently knew all about this paper, would also 
 become an active striver for its possession. He was 
 well aware what fort it represented; doubtless he 
 had assisted in determining what market it should 
 go into; at any rate, he was fully apprised of its 
 high value as a secret and that was enough to spur 
 him to action for its acquisition. More fool I for 
 thinking to unmask the scoundrel and put him on 
 the defensive; Charles Woodworth was the man 
 who would now need to take good care how he 
 walked. 
 
 D'Urville's attack however lay somewhere in the 
 future. A nearer complication of the comedy just 
 completed lay in the explanation which of course 
 I must make to Mr. Moore. My presence, my 
 strange situation as a prisoner in the hands of one 
 of the house servants, my sudden and spectacular 
 race up stairs and down through his dwelling, was 
 an affair that must have aroused his astonishment 
 and could not go unchallenged. Clearly there was 
 only one course to follow, but how much to tell
 
 A DOCUMENT 85 
 
 ah, that was the trouble. So with meditative feet 
 I made my way to the door. 
 
 The actors in the scene which had occurred in the 
 hall, with the exception of myself, still stood upon 
 the spot, while beyond them servants' heads showed 
 crowding doors. Davis was the center of interest 
 now, but spoke briefly, evidently under the restraint 
 of Del Hervalle's cautioning eye. Undoubtedly the 
 envoy would have much preferred to make explana- 
 tions himself, but of what had occurred on the lawn 
 between Davis and me he was ignorant and must 
 of necessity patiently accept a minor role. I re- 
 moved my cap and stepped in, forgetful that I still 
 had all the appearance of a ruffian. The servant 
 who had assisted in my capture at once advanced to 
 meet me and renew his frustrated policy duty, but 
 Mr. Moore waved him aside. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he demanded. 
 
 "I why, Charles Woodworth," I stated. 
 
 His eyebrows lifted the fraction of an inch; a 
 diplomat, however, is always master of himself, or 
 supposed to be, so with a keen glance he scrutinized 
 my face, then extended his hand in recognition. 
 
 " So you are but somewhat decorated. Your 
 presence is welcome, as we are seeking a solution 
 of this singular affair. Have you turned burglar ? " 
 
 " No ; it was I who was robbed." 
 
 " My servant and Mr. Davis state that they came 
 round the house, saw a man skulking across the 
 lawn and behind a bush, and captured him."
 
 86 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " I was the man," I answered promptly. 
 
 " The evidence of your face points that way." 
 
 " Let me explain. As I approached the house I 
 perceived this gentleman " I bowed to the envoy 
 " and paused to look at him. I had met him 
 under other and less estimable circumstances and 
 naturally was interested at finding him here on the 
 island of Lavouche. I desired to observe him before 
 introducing myself anew, in order to make sure I 
 was not laboring under a mistake. Then these other 
 two men fell in an avalanche upon my back and 
 haled me here." 
 
 " You knew Senor Del Hervalle, you say? " 
 
 " Very well, indeed, but under another alias. At 
 that time, which was two years ago this summer, 
 he was a mechanic in the west. Jack Maitland also 
 shares his acquaintance." 
 
 Mr. Moore turned to D'Urville. " This is pe- 
 culiar, yet evidently a case of mistaken identity, 
 Senor. You were in Venezuela at the time, were 
 you not ? " 
 
 " Of a certainty, yes, as you know, Senor 
 Moore." 
 
 Mr. Moore turned to me. " Charles, you 've con- 
 fused my guest with some one else. Apologies all 
 around will end this peculiar contretemps. Senor 
 Del Hervalle has been in Venezuela for years, as 
 President Castro himself told me, and was born 
 there of French parentage, later educated in France." 
 
 I turned and looked D'Urville full in the eye; his
 
 A DOCUMENT 87 
 
 past had, it now appeared, been effectually buried 
 with the connivance of the president whom he served 
 and who would find such an amending of the record 
 very easy to contrive. As for the little Frenchman 
 consummate actor ! he smiled at me blandly, 
 even kindly, as experience smiles forgiveness on the 
 impetuous errors of youth. Thereupon, turning my 
 eyes back to Elizabeth's father, I perceived, so far 
 as I was able to judge from his composed features, 
 that evidently he was convinced of my mistake. 
 This was no time to arraign the envoy for high 
 crimes ; that were folly his alibi was too perfect. 
 Well, why not carry out the farce until a more 
 favorable wind blew? 
 
 " A mistake it seems," I agreed with simulated 
 thought fulness. Then, with an inspiration, " How 
 about appropriating my paper, Sefior? " 
 
 " Ah, that ! It is a map of one of my country's 
 forts Venezuela's fort. I must beg of you to 
 give it to me." 
 
 The sly fox! My inspiration had given him a 
 chance, and the audacity of his move held me for 
 a moment speechless. 
 
 " What is this, Charles ? " Mr. Moore asked 
 quickly. " A map what map and what fort ? " 
 
 " I have a paper in my pocket which the Sefior 
 sought to take from me. Indeed, he did take it from 
 me. Is it likely that I should have any of Venezuela's 
 plans of fortification on my person ? It 's another 
 case of ' mistaken identity ' and this time on the part
 
 88 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 of Senor D'Ur Hervalle. 'Mistaken identity' 
 seems to be contagious in Moore House to-night." 
 
 Mr. Moore was too adept in this particular busi- 
 ness of veiled talk not to read an underlying mean- 
 ing. He gazed at me sharply, glanced once at 
 D'Urville, once at Davis, then remarked: 
 
 " You have a map ? " 
 
 " Yes, a map." 
 
 "Of a fortification?" 
 
 I paused. " That I must decline to answer." 
 
 " Then it would be useless to inquire if I might 
 see it?" 
 
 " I fear so, Mr. Moore." 
 
 " Or ask Ijow you obtained it ? " 
 
 " For the present at least, while so much mistaken 
 identity exists. My explanations would sound un- 
 convincing." 
 
 " Very remarkable, this occurrence." And he took 
 a pace or two back and forth. 
 
 I now had time to regard the others, who at this 
 time were more on-lookers than participants in the 
 scene. Davis stood on one side expressionless, save 
 for his eyes ; farther back was the servant who had 
 done his duty so well in seizing me; on one side 
 by a hall-tree, Elizabeth and her friend listened with 
 large eyes. The latter was a brown-haired girl of 
 about Elizabeth's size, pretty, with a vivacious ex- 
 pression upon her face, now emphasized by intense 
 interest. Fat little D'Urville continued benevolent, 
 slightly thoughtful, guileless. I gingerly rubbed my
 
 A DOCUMENT 89 
 
 scratched cheek and considered; unlike the fisher- 
 man of the Arabian tale, I had not succeeded in 
 persuading the genie back into the jar and he had 
 escaped abroad; in other words, the map was play- 
 ing the deuce! 
 
 It may seem strange that, focused as were all 
 our minds on this paper, I presently became occupied 
 with consideration of another subject to the exclu- 
 sion of the other. This was Betty. The suggestion 
 came creeping into a cell somewhere in my brain to 
 take note how she considered my presence, nay, to 
 be accurate, my performance; for my precipitation 
 into Moore House so soon after her cold dis- 
 missal of the afternoon could not be without effect 
 upon her. However she was not looking in my 
 direction; she was gazing intently at her father's 
 chief guest, a little wrinkle creasing her white fore- 
 head, gazing with an intentness as much of mind as 
 of look, and I idly wondered what could be the 
 cause. Her fair companion murmured an aside to 
 her, but Elizabeth did not answer, nor was a repe- 
 tition better favored. Clearly something deeply 
 engaged her. 
 
 Then Mr. Moore finished his pacing. 
 
 " We 're certain of the following facts," he said, 
 " which brush away the confusion. Mr. Davis mis- 
 took you for a burglar." 
 
 "Quite true; for a spy, in fact." 
 
 " And you mistook Sefior Del Hervalle for a sort 
 of polite highwayman."
 
 90 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " That 's a natural construction to put on his act." 
 
 " Sefior believed you held a paper inimical to 
 Venezuela." 
 
 " Possibly he believes so yet." And I looked at 
 my little controversialist. 
 
 D'Urville spread his hands in an eloquent ges- 
 ture which might have meant nothing, which might 
 have meant anything. 
 
 "If you '11 assure him that it 's not a map of a 
 Venezuelan fortress " Mr. Moore suggested, 
 pausing. 
 
 " I think I can so assure him." 
 
 " Though of some fortress, in fact," he continued 
 dryly. 
 
 I bit my lip. He had trapped me neatly, and that 
 piece of fat was in the fire. 
 
 " Though of some fortress, yes." 
 
 " Your word will be sufficient, I 'm confident." 
 
 " Then he has it." 
 
 Instantly a smile illuminated the Frenchman's 
 face; his moustache points rose beatifically. He 
 placed a hand upon his breast and bowed. 
 
 " It is of great sufficiency, Sefior Sefior 
 The honor of your name I have not yet." 
 
 " Woodworth one easily forgotten." 
 
 " So the whole matter, with exception " Mr. 
 Moore regarded me shrewdly " of how you hap- 
 pen to be possessed of a map of a fortress, is cleared 
 up." 
 
 " Oh, as for the map," said I lightly, " I obtained
 
 A DOCUMENT 91 
 
 it as spoils of war. But that would not interest you." 
 And I turned away as if the subject were concluded. 
 
 "As you have also obtained spoils of grass and 
 good rich soil. Let us hope the one may prove no 
 more serious than the other/' 
 
 In pursuing the controversy it was true I 
 had forgotten what sort of appearance I made; 
 therefore stating that I would return home and call 
 another time when I was more presentable, and Mr. 
 Moore and his party accepting my apologies, I with- 
 drew. Outside the door I was accosted by the ser- 
 vant who had aided in my capture. 
 
 " I 'm sorry, sir, I was mixed up in an attack on 
 you, Mr. Woodworth," he said. 
 
 " No harm done." 
 
 " I really supposed you a spy." 
 
 " My position might have led to that belief." 
 
 He hesitated, looked over his shoulder, then ad- 
 dressed me in a lowered voice. 
 
 " Funny thing, sir, about that map." 
 
 I looked at him. " What do you mean ? " 
 
 He jerked his thumb towards the drawing-room 
 door, then slowly winked. " Him." 
 
 " Sefior Del Hervalle?" I was still mystified. 
 " Explain." 
 
 " Why, he spoke your name while I held your 
 hands, then afterwards said he did n't know you." 
 
 This time it was I who winked, also I put some- 
 thing substantial in his hand and bade him preserve 
 silence.
 
 92 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 I was entirely correct when I judged that D'Ur- 
 ville would not long delay making another move in 
 the game. He was prompt, but as I might have 
 anticipated in dealing with such a man it was ex- 
 actly the step I had not expected. By nature he 
 should have attempted a hidden stroke ; imagine then 
 my surprise when next morning, with the sunlight 
 over all the island and sea, he came walking briskly 
 up the path to the veranda where I sat. His man- 
 ner was businesslike. I rose to greet him. 
 
 " You '11 permit me to visit you ? " he inquired 
 suavely. 
 
 " By all means in daylight." 
 
 I placed a chair for him, which he accepted 
 graciously. 
 
 " Your view over the water is charming, Senor." 
 
 " It is, without question." 
 
 " And I suppose you enjoy it." 
 
 " Very much. But surely you did not do me the 
 honor to call merely for a discussion of scenery." 
 
 He twisted a point of his moustache and turned 
 to me smiling. 
 
 " The last time we met let me see," he began. 
 " Was it not on a steamer gangway in New York ? 
 You were in a great hurry to get ashore." 
 
 " While you were in a great hurry to get aboard. 
 Time has treated you well. Your fortunes were 
 rather obscure then, Monsieur D'Urville " 
 
 " Sefior Del Hervalle, I pray you," he interrupted 
 calmly, at the same time lifting a hand in protest.
 
 A DOCUMENT 93 
 
 " Monsieur D'Urville does not exist, if indeed such 
 a gentleman ever existed a mechanic, I believe 
 you said last evening. Bah, what have we to do 
 with artisans! I know nothing of them or of this 
 D'Urville, and I am sure that you, my friend, re- 
 member nothing of such a man. And now, Senor 
 Woodworth, the occasion of my visit is to discuss 
 with you the disposition of the map which you now 
 hold." 
 
 " Well, it really needs little discussion," I said, 
 " seeing that it 's mine." 
 
 " You are impetuous, hasty, Senor Woodworth." 
 
 He moved the tails of his coat upon his knees, 
 folding his hands upon his walking stick, and looked 
 at me inquiringly. 
 
 " What do you propose? " I asked. 
 
 " Concerted action. I am in a position of influ- 
 ence and have many sources of knowledge. I will 
 advise you where to dispose of it." 
 
 " What fortress is it the map of ? " 
 
 " Ah, Senor, that I must not say. You have the 
 map, but without its name it is worthless; I have 
 the name, but without the map am helpless. We 
 must, as I say, combine our forces to place the map 
 where it will prove the most effective." 
 
 "As well as lucrative?" I smiled. 
 
 " The secret war constantly going on between 
 nations, my young friend, allows many things to 
 be done which would be discreditable in private life," 
 he remarked. " What we would never do in a per-
 
 94 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 sonal capacity, as between one man and another, is 
 in international affairs legitimate. It is part of the 
 preparedness for war. We therefore will be acting 
 only the part of patriots, assisting our noble coun- 
 tries inasmuch as we weaken a rival." 
 
 I smiled at this sophistry. " Then the noble part 
 would be for me to deliver this to my government 
 at once. I will do so." 
 
 " No." His hand was again lifted to stop me. 
 " That would be a hasty error. Here we have a map 
 of a European fortress, shall we say? In European 
 affairs the United States is neutral, has little con- 
 cern. But what of Europe itself ? Ah, Senor Wood- 
 worth, we must play a stroke of policy you to 
 assist in secret your splendid republic, I to deal a 
 wound to those selfish nations who already have 
 sought to crush my good friend, El Presidente, and 
 seize his customs. No, no, we will dispose of it in 
 a quarter where it will accomplish much, and since 
 this is a practical age we shall personally benefit 
 by the patriotic transaction. Entrust to me nego- 
 tiations." 
 
 " You 're built for such, I 'm sure." 
 
 " And the map." 
 
 " Now it is you who are in haste, Senor Del 
 Hervalle. Your action of last night is still fresh 
 in mind, and I tell you frankly that I have no idea 
 of selling the map or going into partnership with 
 you. I really don't trust you, you know," I re- 
 marked pleasantly, while looking him in the eyes.
 
 A DOCUMENT 95 
 
 " Your record while brilliant is not exactly inspiring, 
 even allowing for its success. You know you might 
 run off with the map. Your diplomacy even com- 
 passes treachery. Take, for instance, your little 
 affair with Lonagan, the gun-runner." 
 
 There was a slight narrowing of his eyes. But 
 if I thought to startle him out of his placid com- 
 posure, I undershot the mark. He continued to 
 smile upon me, his hands resting upon his walking 
 stick. 
 
 " Lonagan a contemptible trader," he said. 
 " But I perceive, Senor Woodworm, that our views 
 are yet some distance apart and that we shall have 
 to confer from time to time until this matter is 
 agreed upon." 
 
 " I fear that it will be useless." 
 
 " There again you are impetuous. Diplomacy can 
 arrange all matters, and we will be diplomatic." He 
 took up his hat and rose. "Let me suggest you 
 keep close watch upon the map." 
 
 " Never fear as to that." 
 
 " Do not let it pass from your possession." 
 
 " I will not, I can assure you." 
 
 " Even to go from the island." 
 
 Now I looked at him closely. His voice had 
 grown a trifle more insistent. Was this a veiled 
 threat? Was he warning me not to attempt to take 
 the map from out of his reach? 
 
 " You are favored with visitors," he said presently. 
 
 Sure enough, up the path came my German. He
 
 96 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 moved leisurely, swinging his stick. At the step 
 of the veranda he lifted his hat politely, then 
 mounted. 
 
 "If your business is finished, Mr. Woodworth, 
 I desire to continue our discussion of a certain 
 subject." 
 
 " I can't do that until I am apprised of whom I 'm 
 receiving." 
 
 He drew forth a card-case and extracting a card 
 handed it to me. I examined it. The humor of 
 the situation was too keen to be ignored, and so I 
 turned to the Frenchman. 
 
 " Sefior Del Hervalle, allow me to present to you 
 Baron Adolph Von Hussman Baron, Sefior Del 
 Hervalle, special envoy from Venezuela." 
 
 The pair bowed. Del Hervalle's face beamed wel- 
 come and courtesy; the Baron's countenance was 
 polite and expressionless. Then I could not resist 
 adding : 
 
 " You two should meet, as you both appear in- 
 terested in a certain document which I possess." 
 
 " Baron, we shall be great friends," Sefior Del 
 Hervalle exclaimed delightfully. 
 
 " The interests of Germany and Venezuela and 
 France, shall I say ? can never move except in 
 harmony." 
 
 Such good-will was deserving of honor. 
 
 " We '11 drink a cup of wine," I said. " Andrew, 
 glasses and the tankard of sherry."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE VARIOUS VISITS OF SENOR DEL HERVALLE 
 
 The Frenchman had, after a courteous interval, 
 bowed himself away, and the Baron occupied the 
 place of my previous visitor. We had talked for 
 some time, but now sat silent, gazing out upon the 
 ocean while I awaited his further pleasure. His 
 straw hat and stick were held in one hand, with the 
 other he from time to time gave a thoughtful up- 
 ward twist to his Kaiser-like moustache. I had 
 occasion to examine him more carefully; he was 
 not far from forty, one side or the other of that 
 age, and a man in his prime; the square set of his 
 shoulders bespoke military training, and both his 
 bearing and manner showed that he was a man accus- 
 tomed to dealing with large affairs; his face was 
 impassive, but no self-repression could hide what his 
 jaw indicated, determination to stubbornness. Well, 
 I had already had the evidence of his perseverance. 
 
 Clearly he found the situation perplexing, found 
 me an anomaly in that class of gentlemen common 
 on the Continent who live by the use of their wits 
 and by sale of such secrets as nations are willing 
 to trade in. The presence of Del Hervalle confirmed 
 him in his early suspicion and this was just be-
 
 98 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 ginning to dawn upon me, with its possible results 
 that I was a dealer in illegitimate wares. Once 
 or twice I found his eye resting on me speculatively. 
 On meeting Del Hervalle he had instantly believed 
 him another bidder, as the Frenchman on his part 
 thought he had discovered a rival. This joint opin- 
 ion I had firmly established in their minds by re- 
 ferring to their common interest in the map; there 
 was no harm in that they would have surmised 
 each other's business in any case. Where the mis- 
 chief lay was of course in this rivalry; each alone 
 might have been content to let time provide him 
 with an opportunity to secure the map, but now each 
 man would become active in order to triumph over 
 his opponent. A very pretty situation, indeed, with 
 myself the bull's-eye. 
 
 The Baron now considered me, if not with more 
 respect, at least as a man of more ability than he 
 had at first given me credit for. I could almost 
 follow his thoughts; ostensibly the Frenchman was 
 a guest at Moore House and I an idler on a vacation, 
 in reality we were met in this remote spot by ap- 
 pointment to engage in negotiations. Sefior Del 
 Hervalle might be anything in addition to being 
 an envoy of Venezuela those tropical statesmen 
 were not averse to turning a quiet penny and this 
 one was a Frenchman, probably a secret agent of 
 France, which, as all the world knew, loved Germany 
 dearly. The humor of the situation appealed to me, 
 though I knew that I might yet laugh in another
 
 SENOR DEL HERVALLE 99 
 
 fashion before all was done. Really I found the 
 Baron attractive; he was the sort of gentleman I 
 would have liked to number among my friends, a 
 clean-cut, reserved, capable, staunch man; he had 
 been knocked down by me, but not deterred from 
 his purpose, and he had accepted my apology for 
 the necessity of the same as viewed from my stand- 
 point, and held no animosity. That defeat was only 
 an incident of the game; and he carried himself well 
 here at my house when his was a delicate task, main- 
 taining his part as a negotiator, not a petitioner. 
 
 " My dear Baron," said I, " what are you think- 
 ing of?" 
 
 " Of what important issues may hang on chance. 
 If we had not met, for instance " He paused. 
 
 " We should not have the pleasure of each other's 
 company." 
 
 " You measure it too lightly, Mr. Woodworth. 
 If we had not met, who can predict what infinite 
 harm might come to pass ? " 
 
 "And now?" 
 
 " I at least know what and where to suspect, which 
 would otherwise have never been the case." 
 
 He lighted a cigarette and turned his blue eyes 
 upon me smiling. 
 
 " That is something," said I. 
 
 " I came here this morning once more to request 
 that you hand me the map, but I perceive now that 
 the affair has passed such a stage. It 's a matter of 
 bargaining."
 
 100 
 
 " I can't bargain, I regret to state." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 The exclamation was full of meaning; his obvi- 
 ous conclusion was that I had already progressed 
 so far with Del Hervalle that I could not open 
 negotiations in a new direction. 
 
 " I 've not as yet come to any agreement with any 
 one, particularly with my late visitor," I said dryly. 
 " Would you like to see the map ? " 
 
 He shot a surprised look at me, but answered 
 without eagerness, " Certainly, as you know." 
 
 " There 's one condition." 
 
 "Condition?" 
 
 " Your word will satisfy me perfectly, Baron." 
 
 He looked at me, took a puff at his cigarette, and 
 then gazed out on the water. 
 
 " Name the condition," he said finally. 
 
 " If I show you this map, I must have your word 
 that you will make no further effort to see it or 
 to obtain it, and that you will go away from the 
 island. In turn, I '11 give you assurance that the 
 map in no way shall be used to the detriment of your 
 country." 
 
 " That is an impossible demand." 
 
 " It 's a fair one." 
 
 " I fear, Mr. Woodworth, that after all you 're 
 inexperienced in this sort of business or is it 
 merely a bold stroke?" 
 
 " Inexperience, no doubt." 
 
 He laughed quietly. " I can't give you my word
 
 SENOR DEL HERVALLE 101 
 
 as you request and I can't credit any assurance you '11 
 give me. Besides, my country would hold me culpa- 
 ble if I entered into any such agreement which left 
 a map of one of her fortresses in the hands of a 
 possible enemy." 
 
 " Then I regret that your longing to see it must 
 remain unsatisfied." 
 
 He gathered his stick and hat to go. 
 
 " I must take my departure. I do not think 
 you 're an ordinary mercenary spy," stated he, " and 
 you 're young. Therefore I give you fair warning 
 that I feel at liberty to use whatever means I think 
 best to recover the map. Before resorting to final 
 measures, I came here to put the matter to you a 
 last time." 
 
 " I can't accommodate you, Baron." 
 
 " Then I '11 bid you good morning." 
 
 I rose, laying a hand on his arm. 
 
 " Come, come, Baron, don't rush off. No doubt 
 you find the village inn difficult and I 've a good 
 cook here in the person of my servant Andrew. 
 You can hear him clatter dishes now; remain and 
 we shall eat here on the veranda. You also un- 
 doubtedly grow weary for company; let us declare 
 neutrality for a time and enjoy luncheon together, 
 temporarily dismiss the subject of the map, and 
 enjoy ourselves." 
 
 At this he made no effort to conceal his sur- 
 prise. For a time he remained silent, then a 
 smile gradually broke over his face, his blue eyes
 
 102 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 shone, while he put down his hat to extend his 
 hand. 
 
 1 You Americans are irresistible. Even if you 
 betray me afterwards to France, I '11 stay to lunch 
 with you." 
 
 " I 'm not such a rogue as you suspect, Baron, 
 and now for a glass from the tankard. It holds 
 something we both want." 
 
 " One thing I 'm sure, at least, it 's not Dutch 
 courage, Woodworth." 
 
 Neither of us again made reference to the map, 
 confining ourselves to general topics. The Baron 
 proved an agreeable companion; he had traveled 
 much and during the meal regaled me with several 
 of his adventures in East Africa, Brazil, and Tur- 
 key. Of his business in America, or for that matter 
 of his business anywhere, I never so much as got 
 an inkling; he dexterously steered away from that 
 reef, leaving me to infer he was a gentleman of 
 means and leisure. But one thing struck me as note- 
 worthy the countries of which he spoke and where 
 he had traveled were those particular quarters of 
 the world where Germany had secured or was at 
 present endeavoring to create a "sphere of influ- 
 ence." Was he an agent of his government? If 
 so, what was he doing in America? Those were 
 questions on which I could only speculate. 
 
 When he made ready to return to the village, I 
 decided to accompany him. Exercise I needed, for 
 I had not left the Lodge that morning. We strolled
 
 SENOR DEL HERVALLE 103 
 
 along the beach, and he pointed now to a sea-shell, 
 now to a bunch of sea-weed, describing and giving 
 the scientific name of each with an ease born of 
 that exact and unremitting study which characterizes 
 the German system of schools. He was the type of 
 purposeful men produced by the Empire who per- 
 ceiving the crowded condition of their country had 
 set themselves resolutely to the task of establishing 
 colonies and of placing Germany in the front rank 
 of maritime nations. As accurately as he spoke of 
 a floating sea-urchin, so had he reviewed the condi- 
 tions of Turkey and Africa where he had traveled. 
 And now here he was stopping in this little village 
 of Lavouche fully resolved to obtain the map which 
 I held. Chance had shown him it; he would not 
 depart so long as there was a possibility of gaining 
 it. I experienced a premonition of coming trouble, 
 for he was of the superior type of foemen, the kind 
 of man who leads, who rises to any emergency, who 
 does not take defeat for an answer. Del Hervalle 
 alone was enough under ordinary circumstances to 
 furnish me sufficient occupation; now to have the 
 Baron planning an assault from a still different 
 direction made the future look dubious. 
 
 In the inn the Baron left me to go to his room 
 to write letters. Therefore I pulled up a chair close 
 to the window where madame was knitting. But 
 conversation was even more difficult with her than 
 usual, so lighting my pipe I gave myself up to 
 thought.
 
 104 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 My mind reverted to the Baron, from whom I 
 had just parted, for just what he would initiate in 
 the way of action I was at a loss to anticipate. 
 To be sure, he worked under a disadvantage; he 
 was an alien in Lavouche, without friends, without 
 assistants, and with his purpose known to me, while 
 on the other hand I was, so to speak, in my home. 
 He would hardly dare resort to force unless all else 
 failed and he became desperate, and then it would 
 be only such physical measures as were necessary 
 temporarily to overcome me. He was not a pro- 
 fessional thug; my life would not be in danger. 
 Ransack my house he might, take the paper by 
 rascality he might, if he could lay hands upon it; 
 yet neither of these things was in the nature of the 
 man, and something indefinite, intangible, character- 
 inferred, convinced me that when he acted it would 
 be along another line. Such means were too petty, 
 too uncertain, for a man of his stamp. In harmony 
 with the iron system which pervaded and ruled his 
 country and moulded on hard broad lines the thought 
 of her people, whatever plan he put into operation 
 would be worthy of his training, complete, prepared, 
 machine-like, executed with the precision of an 
 army movement. Altogether a different man was 
 he from Del Hervalle, altogether different would 
 be his operation. From the Frenchman I could ex- 
 pect a treacherous attack, a blow in the dark, struck 
 where I seemed to stand in greatest safety and when 
 no foe seemed near; such had always been the
 
 SEfrOR DEL HERVALLE 105 
 
 man's way and ia a measure I could make prepara- 
 tion. How Von Hussman would go about his work 
 I knew not and in consequence was at a loss where 
 to expect his move. 
 
 " Madame," said I to the inn-woman, " how do 
 you like your guest ? " 
 
 " Any guest is well liked who pays well." 
 
 " He pays well, then ? " 
 
 " The score, and something over." Her needles 
 clicked away, and the yarn twitched in the stocking. 
 " Such a guest may stay forever." 
 
 " He 's well behaved? " I continued. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " He does n't guzzle with Pilon and the others, 
 nor kick over the table, nor split his throat shouting 
 into others' ears, nor " 
 
 " Monsieur," she interrupted shortly, " you jest." 
 
 " A baron could not of course do such things." 
 
 For one minute she ceased knitting. 
 
 "Oh, a baron!" 
 
 " Your roof is honored to that extent." 
 
 An hour passed while I exchanged light talk or 
 indulged in reflection which yielded no particular 
 result. I rose, yawning, and stood in the door. 
 Should I return home? In the idle fashion which 
 one employs when in a state of indecision or indo- 
 lence, I glanced at the sky, at the cliff which walled 
 the upper end of the village, at the doors opposite, 
 at the lower end of the street ; none of these afforded 
 inspiration. Then I paused. Was not that Del
 
 I0 6 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 Hervalle's plump little figure which had just rounded 
 the corner of Gaspard's boat-shop and which now 
 was coming briskly forward? Under any circum- 
 stances the movements of the Frenchman would 
 have interested me; at this time when I was ex- 
 pecting some line of action pointing towards re- 
 covery of the map I was more than interested I 
 was eager. So I drew back into the inn, where 
 remaining in the shadow of the door I awaited his 
 approach in order to determine on what special mis- 
 sion he was now engaged. Nothing which he did 
 was idle ; everything was directed to an end. Pres- 
 ently his footsteps sounded on the rocky pavement 
 of the street; he swung by the inn without pause. 
 I put an eye about the lintel and saw his plump 
 figure halt before the next door, where casting a 
 sharp look about he entered. 
 
 " I think it 's that noisy fellow Pilon who lives 
 beside you, is n't it? " I inquired of madame. She 
 nodded and continued her knitting. 
 
 What had the Frenchman in common with his 
 rough compatriot? Where had they made acquaint 
 ance and what was the occasion of this visit? 
 stepped into the street and advanced until I stood 
 before the house into which the man had entered. 
 The door stood ajar. I drew near and listened ; 
 no sound came from within. Retreating a few 
 paces, I surveyed the face of the structure to observe 
 if I were watched, but no eye was at window. There 
 was little to distinguish the house from its neigh-
 
 SENOR DEL HERVALLE 107 
 
 bor on either side, or indeed from any of the dwell- 
 ings along the street ; the inn flanked it on the left, 
 the house which contained Martin Dellar's mer- 
 chandise store on the right, and its chief distin- 
 guishing feature was the dilapidated roof sagging 
 slightly inward from age and want of repair. It 
 had stood empty for some time, ever since Mosette, 
 its owner, had died, and until the three vagabond 
 French sailors took possession. A window stood in 
 the wall beside the door; in the story above, a pair 
 of them ; and finally at the top two dormer windows 
 projected from the roof. In other respects the wall 
 was blank, except for a pattern of panels built in 
 wood over the higher half. 
 
 Adventure was on me. I looked up the street 
 and down, then finally at the windows again ; noth- 
 ing was to be seen, the house was still. With a 
 light step I reached the door and entered. The 
 square room was empty. Casting a rapid glance 
 about, at the cold fireplace, at the furniture which 
 comprised only a table and stools, and at the litter 
 of crusts, burnt matches, and empty wine flasks 
 strewn over the floor (Pilon and his companions 
 lived not tidily) and at the stone staircase rising 
 along the wall, I stole to the door of the inner room, 
 which I found empty. 
 
 I returned to the stair. Apparently the three 
 sailors dwelt on the floor above, and thither Del 
 Hervalle had taken himself straight as one who was 
 a familiar acquaintance. Listen as I would, I could
 
 io8 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 distinguish no sounds which indicated the presence 
 of human occupants. To seek higher would be the 
 height of imprudence, but I itched to go upward ; the 
 steps were stone, there would be no creak to betray 
 me. Noise of a door opening above saved me from 
 this folly just at the instant when I had cast fear 
 to the winds and placed foot on the first step. Now 
 I could hear voices ; Del Hervalle speaking in rapid 
 incisive tones, Pilon's heavy notes answering; and 
 they were approaching to descend. Risking myself 
 no further, I moved silently to the door, stepped 
 into the street, and regained the shelter of the inn- 
 room. My little expedition had produced nothing 
 except to ascertain that Mr. Moore's chief guest was 
 on terms of intimacy with Lavouche's first ruffian, 
 certainly a relationship of which no good could come. 
 
 Apparently Pilon did not leave his house, for 
 when Del Hervalle's figure darkened the tavern 
 door in entering he was alone. I bent over the 
 table at which I sat, simulating study of an old 
 newspaper. 
 
 " A good afternoon, madame," he greeted pleas- 
 antly. " You knit an endless stocking. Behold, is 
 that you, Seiior Charles ? " 
 
 I lifted my head. " Oh, good day, sefior." I 
 folded the sheet. " You 're touring our little 
 village." 
 
 " Yes, yes. How like France ! It is unusual, 
 unique, a preserved antique in a modern setting. 
 Are you making your way home?"
 
 SENOR DEL HERVALLE 109 
 
 " Not yet, monsieur or sefior which is it? " 
 
 He smiled, beaming. " What a joker ! And you 
 are not joining me? " 
 
 " Well, no, my house is dull." 
 
 " We must liven it," said he. " I compliment 
 you, madame, upon your industry. Heaven will 
 some day give you a great reward." 
 
 " Heaven knows nothing of stockings," answered 
 madame. 
 
 " We 're taught that Heaven knows everything," 
 Del Hervalle replied. " Not so, my young friend 
 Charles?" 
 
 " Truly, sefior, but you have meditated the fact 
 carefully ? " 
 
 " Often, often, but there is the consolation, so 
 great, so satisfying," he spread his hands in one 
 of his expressive gestures, " that Heaven never 
 speaks what it knows." He cast his eyes upward, 
 then let them fall easily. " You 're not then join- 
 ing me? " 
 
 This was the third time he had asked the question. 
 
 " No, sefior," I replied. 
 
 After he had gone, I recalled the peculiar in- 
 sistence of his inquiry. Was there any particular 
 reason why he pressed the question? Would he 
 dare 
 
 I sprang up. Surely he would not attempt such 
 a move. But a strange uneasiness pervaded me. I 
 walked to the door, where staring down the street 
 I observed him walking in no great haste, swinging
 
 no THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 his walking stick as if his mind were entirely free 
 from thought; and I returned to the table. But 
 the old journal was not read by me, though I gazed 
 at it intently for five minutes. I could not shake 
 off my cloak of apprehension; the recollection of 
 his tone when last he asked me if I were joining 
 him, the actual though faint hint of eagerness which 
 I recalled in the question, came again and again 
 to impinge upon my mind, until at last I stood up 
 decided in my intention. I would take no risks, 
 I would make sure, I would go home. 
 
 Turning off from the beach where the bluff ended 
 in a slope, I pursued through the wood the road 
 which he must have taken to reach Moore House. 
 Ahead of me I saw nothing of him, but that was 
 to be expected since he had sufficient start to reach 
 his destination before I came in eye-shot. Then as 
 I paused at the path which ran southward from the 
 road to my house, I beheld coming towards me Mr. 
 Moore's servant who had assisted at my capture the 
 previous night. 
 
 " Is Senor Del Hervalle at home? " I inquired. 
 
 " No, Mr. Wood worth. He went out an hour 
 ago and has n't yet returned." 
 
 " In the village, I suppose? " I asked. 
 
 " Probably, sir." 
 
 " What is your name? " I asked. 
 
 " Stevens, sir." 
 
 " Well, Stevens, you 've caught no more burglars, 
 have you ? "
 
 SENOR DEL HERVALLE in 
 
 " Not yet, sir," he grinned. 
 
 " Keep an eye open." 
 
 " I will, Mr. Woodworth." He regarded me as 
 if to speak further. 
 
 "What is it, Stevens?" 
 
 " Well, sir, if it does n't seem presumptuous, I 
 wished to say that Miss Betty had me on one side 
 and asked me all about the affair last night." 
 
 "And you told her?" 
 
 " I could n't very well avoid it, sir ; generally I 
 can lie as comfortably as the next, but when her 
 blue eyes are on me I can't tell anything but the 
 truth." 
 
 " Then she knows Senor Del Hervalle recog- 
 nized me ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 I considered a moment. "It really doesn't 
 matter." 
 
 " The curious fact was, sir, she too ordered me 
 to say nothing about it, as you had done." 
 
 Did Betty suspect her guest? That would truly 
 add excitement to the situation. A pair of sharp 
 eyes were in her head, and if her suspicions were 
 once aroused she would use them. Well, those eyes 
 might prove of valuable assistance. 
 
 It did not take me long to reach home. Asking 
 myself if the Frenchman believing he might make 
 a search in my absence had ventured here, I made 
 my way over the turf of the lawn and around the 
 front of the Lodge.
 
 ii2 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 My mental intimations had been right! I heard 
 his voice addressing my servant. 
 
 " He is attempting to cajole Andrew into giving 
 up the map," I surmised. 
 
 That, as I discovered when I came in line with 
 a window of the long room, was putting the case 
 mildly. Cajole it might have been, if such an ex- 
 pression may be used to describe the action of one 
 man backing another against a wall at the point of 
 a pistol. Thus Del Hervalle besieged Andrew. 
 
 " You must tell me where is the map, my man," 
 the Frenchman was saying smoothly, " or this pistol 
 will go off." 
 
 Andrew was frightened. His usually ruddy 
 cheeks were colorless ; it may have been imagination 
 on my part, but it seemed as if his fluffy white hair 
 stiffened and sought to stand on end. Back to the 
 wall, hands raised above his head, he trembled 
 violently. 
 
 " You may shoot me, sir," he quavered, " but I 
 will never betray Master Charles." 
 
 " Would you let a paper stand between you and 
 death?" 
 
 My servant moistened his lips and opened them 
 twice before any sound issued. 
 
 " Yes, sir. I served his grandfather and his father 
 and now Master Charles. I will not betray his 
 secret. I am an old man who is not afraid to die." 
 
 Good old Andrew! He would be loyal even unto 
 death and if he died, there would be another die
 
 SENOR DEL HERVALLE 113 
 
 also in the person of Del Hervalle. I had slipped 
 off my foot gear ; so, carrying my shoes in one hand 
 and revolver cocked in the other, I crept to the door. 
 Andrew, who might have seen me, was however 
 too fascinated by the muzzle of the weapon before 
 his eyes; the Frenchman was unaware of my pres- 
 ence, for his fat smooth back was towards me. I 
 drew a bead at the spot where his heart if he had 
 one, though I doubted it should be ; my finger 
 was just closing on the trigger, when he stepped 
 back, lowering his own weapon and uttering an 
 exclamation of disappointment. 
 
 " You 're not yet dead, my man," said he. " I 
 see you 're one of those foolish fellows who would 
 really die for an absurd idea of duty." 
 
 " I would die, sir, for Master Charles." 
 
 " Eh, so. Now get me a glass of wine. Though 
 you have annoyed me, I shall be generous. I will 
 spare you." 
 
 Andrew was not yet done. 
 
 " Sir, I only serve wine to Master Charles' 
 friends." 
 
 " Quite right, Andrew," I said, entering the room, 
 " and, Sefior Del Hervalle, I '11 be obliged if you will 
 place that pistol on the table. No tricks, if you 
 please I have you covered." 
 
 The Frenchman did as I ordered, while a little 
 smile played upon his lips. 
 
 " I perceive that you decided to come home after 
 all," he said.
 
 i '4 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 "Yes, and I find the house not so dull as I 
 thought Help the gentleman to some wine, An- 
 drew, as he requests; he appears fond of the flavor " 
 And taking a step, I pocketed his pistol 
 
 Senor Del Hervalle accepted the glass of sherry 
 sipped it, and held it to the light. 
 
 " It is excellent," he announced.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 STRATEGY INTRODUCED UPON AN ISLAND 
 
 Two days passed without particular event. I 
 idled about the Lodge, I spent an hour each after- 
 noon at Moore House and once took Muriel Nesbit 
 for a sail. Her conversation was always amusing 
 and original, and it was doubly so when she rode 
 between the two perils of sunburn and what she 
 not being used to water conceived to be exhilar- 
 ating adventure. Her speech finally came round 
 to Davis. 
 
 " He moves like a tongueless creature," she de- 
 clared, " and makes me shudder. And once I 
 pledge you to secrecy ! he tried to make love to 
 me and once to Betty, but in such a way that we 
 could n't take offense. Betty and I compare notes, 
 you know." 
 
 " Always ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Even about you, but you don't do much that 's 
 interesting." 
 
 " I '11 improve at once," and I laid my hand over 
 hers. 
 
 She snatched it away. 
 
 " Charles Woodworth, when I have love made 
 to. me I want it in dead earnest and you are head
 
 n6 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 over heels in love with Betty. If you want to prac- 
 tice on me - Oh ! that wave will drown us ! as 
 a sort of understudy in preparation for the address 
 you shall make to Betty, I '11 oblige you. I '11 let 
 my fingers trail in the water, like the sentimental 
 ladies in pictures, only there are no swans about, 
 and cast my eyes down mournfully " She uttered 
 a suppressed scream, then said angrily, " How dare 
 you! You turned the tiller purposely and wet my 
 sleeve to the elbow." 
 
 "I couldn't help it, I really couldn't," I said, 
 " your acting distracted me." 
 
 " Then we '11 have no more of it. You 're not 
 to be trusted. As I was saying My, what a 
 slap that wave gave ! Mr. Davis makes me shudder. 
 He says he 's an American, but I don't believe it. 
 He speaks half a dozen languages, all fluently, and 
 there 's something about him that is foreign. He 's 
 not an American, I '11 bet a dollar," she continued 
 slangily ; " then he always keeps his eyes on one 
 until one grows uncomfortable." 
 
 " If he annoys you or Betty, I '11 take him in 
 hand." 
 
 " Be careful ; he hates you, I know it." 
 
 " Perhaps he has reason to," I grinned, remem- 
 bering the fright which I had given him. 
 
 " When your name is mentioned, his eyes grow 
 positively ugly." 
 
 " Well, I don't think I Ve anything to fear. And 
 as I said, I '11 see that he does n't annoy you."
 
 H7 
 
 The occasion arose that very afternoon to put 
 into effect my championship. We had landed and 
 were ascending the path, when my companion darted 
 forward to a copse which stood on the turf to gather 
 a cluster of bluebells. The clump of bushes was 
 small, perhaps ten feet across, and as I followed 
 her we were both immediately apprised by voices 
 engaged in conversation of the presence of others 
 not visible. 
 
 " You treat me with scant regard," said one, which 
 I recognized as Davis's. 
 
 It was Betty who answered. " You can find no 
 fault with the treatment you have received as a 
 guest at Moore House." 
 
 " No> no. But it is something more than fhat 
 I want. Perhaps because I am only Senor Del 
 Hervalle's secretary, I should preserve silence. Yet 
 I cannot. You have given me encouragement to 
 believe " 
 
 "Mr. Davis!" 
 
 " It is true, or I would not now presume to make 
 any advances. We need not let others know; see, 
 you are interested. I know you are aboye the 
 littleness of conventions. You are a woman of 
 experience." 
 
 At this point I marched around the bush. Like 
 a true comrade, Muriel followed at my heels " to 
 see the fun," as she afterwards expressed it. 
 
 " You Ve said too much, Mr. Davis, and I don't 
 like your insinuations as to this lady's disposition,"
 
 n8 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 I stated sternly. "Let this be the last time you 
 speak to her except on common topics." 
 
 He drew back a step. The natural pallor of his 
 cheek increased until it resembled marble, but there 
 was a venomous light in his eyes. 
 
 " By what right " he began. 
 
 Betty interrupted him with a wave of her hand. 
 
 " Leave this to me, Mr. Davis," she said. Then 
 turning, " You 're taking a great deal upon yourself, 
 Mr. Woodworth, to intrude here without my express 
 invitation. What Mr. Davis says, or does n't say, 
 concerns you not the least in the world." And her 
 eyes flashed many lightnings. 
 
 " I think it does," I answered. 
 
 "Pray how?" 
 
 " Well, for one reason because I 'm going to 
 marry you shortly." 
 
 She stared; then a look of scorn grew on her 
 face. 
 
 " Indeed ! Kindly state that again. You 're going 
 to what?" 
 
 " Exactly what I said marry you. You may 
 not be perfectly aware of it as yet, but such is the 
 case. Therefore I give this gentleman due warning 
 that I '11 administer such punishment as I think 
 necessary if I discover him making any more im- 
 pertinent proposals." I stepped forward. " We '11 
 return to the house." And taking her hand and 
 placing it upon my arm, I started up the slope. 
 
 She did not resist; she moved by my side as in
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 119 
 
 a dream, until we reached the portico. Then she 
 whirled upon me with eyes burning like hot sap- 
 phires. " I hate you, hate you ! " she exclaimed in 
 a fury of passion. " You are contemptible ! I shall 
 listen to Mr. Davis whenever I please and I shall 
 please very often! I never want to speak to you 
 again, or see you! If you dare to molest me in the 
 future, I I Oh, how I hate you ! " 
 
 "Betty," I replied quietly, "that fellow's a 
 scoundrel." 
 
 "Stop!" 
 
 " No, I 've not finished and you must listen. He 
 is a slinking scoundrel, and if he ever insults you 
 again by veiled allusions I '11 break every bone in his 
 body. I need not tell you I love you you know 
 it and have known it for years." 
 
 Her eyes still blazed. Her whole lovely person 
 was afire with anger and she gripped her palms until 
 her hands were white. 
 
 " Never set foot here again, Charles Woodworth." 
 
 " I '11 have to, for I 'm going to marry you." 
 
 " Marry me ! " she choked. " I 'd sooner marry 
 marry Andrew ! " with which she turned and 
 vanished in the house. 
 
 I gazed at the door. The course which I had 
 planned to follow, the policy of determined force, 
 had at its first trial produced unexpected, not to say, 
 explosive results. Betty was very lovely in a rage; 
 but chance of winning her seemed to be exceedingly 
 remote, to twinkle afar off and grow more and more
 
 120 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 dim like a receding star. Try as I would, I could 
 not somehow hit on the right road to her affections. 
 A voice whispered at my shoulder: 
 " That was grand ! Like the third act of a play ! " 
 I turned about and found Muriel, face aglow with 
 excitement. " And how you did put down that man 
 Davis! There he goes stealing around the house. 
 Charles Woodworth, I '11 fall in love with you my- 
 self; if Betty doesn't want you, I'll take you." 
 " She does n't want me." 
 " She does n't know whether she does or not" 
 " Her remarks were very positive on the subject." 
 " Positive perhaps, but not final a woman's 
 never are." With which sage bit of philosophy she 
 nodded brightly and passed within the house. 
 
 " This has been a deuce of an afternoon. I '11 
 go down and see if Jean is at home," I thought. 
 " He 's an anchor in any storm." 
 
 So off I set along the road to Lavouche, ponder- 
 ing over all that had happened since I came to the 
 island. If I had sought a change from the steady, 
 uneventful life of my past year and a half, I could 
 not in any spot on earth have more quickly found 
 it. Quiet old Lavouche, what with the map and 
 what with Betty, promised to keep me occupied to 
 the utmost. 
 
 Chance threw me in the way of old Gaspard, 
 the boat-maker. Where the road debouched from 
 the wood upon the sands, a hundred yards south 
 of the village, his garden was situated with an
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 121 
 
 afternoon exposure, a patch of rich black soil per- 
 haps fifty feet square. The little old fellow, who 
 had been bending over some potato vines, concluded 
 his inspection and hailed me shrilly. 
 
 " Aha, Charles, what is this I hear of you ? " he 
 cried. 
 
 " I can never guess, Gaspard." 
 
 " Come sit on this log," he answered, pointing 
 to a fallen tree, " and I will tell you the report cer- 
 tain evil persons are spreading about." 
 
 Nothing more was needed to enlist my interest; 
 and Gaspard, if anybody in Lavouche, knew what 
 was being gossiped and what contrived in the village. 
 He folded his spectacles and began his story. 
 
 It appeared that the three vagabond sailors, Pilon, 
 Descarte, and Esper, had been talking loudly in the 
 inn over their wine and into the ears of any one 
 who would listen, talking that I was in possession 
 of one of beloved France's maps, a secret map of 
 one of her fortresses located somewhere on the east- 
 ern boundary, and was attempting to dispose of it 
 to her enemy, Germany. No one believed the fel- 
 lows, they were such braggarts and liars, and be- 
 sides it was well known that Pilon had no liking 
 for me; but nevertheless (Gaspard continued) I was 
 acquainted with how people would listen to any idle 
 gossip. Therefore it would be well to go to the 
 village and deny that I had any such map, or any 
 map at all. All yesterday afternoon and all the 
 previous evening the scamps had talked of it in-
 
 122 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 cessantly. Jean had at last lifted his fist against 
 Pilon and threatened to crack his head, then they 
 were silent for a while, but only until Jean had 
 gone away. Pilon himself had visited half a dozen 
 houses to tell the tale Jerome the merchant's, 
 Surgon the major's, who was also the oldest fisher- 
 man, yes, and others, even to Gaspard himself. 
 Truly it was necessary to prove Pilon a liar by 
 going to the village and proclaiming that I had no 
 map. 
 
 " Good Gaspard," I rejoined, " I have no map of 
 any of France's forts, but it does happen that I 
 have a map." 
 
 The old man rubbed his nose and eyed me in 
 astonishment. 
 
 " How comes it, Charles, that a simple young man 
 like you should have such a paper ? " 
 
 " Oh, by accident entirely. It 's too long a tale, 
 but I can assure you that I have n't the least in- 
 tention in the world of harming France. I have 
 none of her maps." 
 
 ' Your word is sufficient ; it will end these fel- 
 lows' babble." 
 
 It was easy to ascribe to Pilon the source of his 
 knowledge and the inspirer of his tale. Sefior Del 
 Hervalle had not made his visit to the house adjoin- 
 ing the inn without a purpose which now transpired ; 
 he sought to disarm me of the friendship and sup- 
 port of the village, so that when he should be ready 
 to measure swords with me I must stand alone.
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 123 
 
 Gaspard however would explain that I had nothing 
 to do with France, either for or against her, and 
 since the fisherman of Lavouche had known both 
 my father and me, that would be sufficient to coun- 
 teract the insidious attack. 
 
 But in this regard the old man and I were mis- 
 taken in our easy opinion. Gaspard went immedi- 
 ately to the village and set himself industriously to 
 work to counteract the tale a task his heart was 
 in, as he had a full subject for talk, which was like 
 wine to him, and had in addition a sharp contempt 
 for Pilon and his crew. Indeed, I should have 
 known better than to permit him thus to venture 
 forth in my defense. His explanation was only a 
 half explanation; it but whetted curiosity the 
 sharper. Tongues wagged, voices chattered, old 
 heads nodded, young ones doubted, questions flew. 
 There was the map! If not one of France's forts, 
 whose? How had I got it, and what would I do 
 with it? Since I had told Gaspard so much, why 
 not more ? It was very strange, this map. And was 
 there not also an unknown visitor in Lavouche, 
 a man who had been loitering some days? What 
 was he doing here? He had been seen to go to 
 my house ; he was a German, an enemy of France. 
 What should I have to do with him, mon Dieu,. 
 yes, more particularly when I had a map? If it 
 were a harmless map, why did I not bring it to the 
 village and show it to people ? Sons did not always 
 turn out as honest as their fathers, no, not always.
 
 124 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 No doubt in the beginning there was with most 
 of them no intention to injure me; the good folk 
 liked argument and subjects were not common: 
 curiosity was at the bottom of it. But the harm lay 
 in continued talk. The oftener the topic was 
 broached, the more curious the people grew, and 
 from curiosity to doubt, from doubt to suspicion, 
 is an easy road. And at last overwhelmed by a 
 hail of questions old Gaspard could not make any 
 answer; he was scoffed at for carrying only half 
 a story, and angry, baffled, stammering imprecations 
 upon Lavouche for its stupidity and malice, he re- 
 turned to his house and locked the door against 
 some of the young fellows who, admiring and 
 imitating Pilon's rough jests, followed him with 
 jibes. 
 
 All this I learned from Andrew, who had gone 
 marketing to the village and came in for his share 
 of attention. They had not got anything out of 
 him, not out of Andrew; but he had perceived 
 what was going on up and down the streets and 
 at doors, and he had lingered so as to bring me a 
 full account. There had been no threats against 
 me except by Pilon; indeed the older and wiser 
 heads had said, " Patience, patience, the matter will 
 come out ! " But the village was nevertheless 
 wrought into excitement, and there were murmur- 
 ings against the stranger, the German, who stopped 
 at the inn and who apparently had no business 
 except with me.
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 125 
 
 This was a new turn of affairs that made me 
 pause. Del Hervalle had struck, struck as was his 
 manner from ambush. He appeared nowhere in it 
 and yet it was his blow. Still I did not look for 
 trouble from the village, as they were peaceable 
 men ; but my situation might nevertheless be made 
 uncomfortable. Sentiment for the country from 
 which their ancestors had come was yet strong in 
 their breasts ; they retained its speech and customs ; 
 in all save dwelling-place they were still French; 
 and to assail the country across the sea was in a 
 way to assail them. They would expect this mat- 
 ter to be made straight. Cunning Del Hervalle! 
 He had seized the one point of weakness in my 
 position and made it an advantage to himself. In 
 Pilon he had found a ready and handy tool, exactly 
 the one needed for his purpose, a fellow not troubled 
 with scruples, sufficiently bold and rough and, what 
 was more, already hating me. What should I do? 
 The village would be none the wiser if I spread 
 the map before its eyes, while on the other hand 
 to say that I did not know what fortress it repre- 
 sented would only be adding fuel to the fire. Yes, 
 cunning Del Hervalle, he had tied my hands and 
 tongue. 
 
 Then a graver doubt entered my mind. The 
 little Frenchman's plots were never simple; on the 
 contrary, they were generally complex. Had he 
 a deeper motive under all this than merely that of 
 securing the map? To be sure, the latter would be
 
 126 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 valuable in his hands and he would not lightly 
 abandon his effort to obtain it; but was he laying 
 the foundation of a more sinister scheme? My 
 presence threatened his security, my knowledge of 
 his past was too dangerous to allow him to rest in 
 peace, even though it seemed I could make no use 
 of it, for some turn of the wheel, some veering of 
 the wind of fortune, might give me the necessary 
 advantage. Other witnesses to his guilty work at 
 Forge were alive, Maitland, Ethys, Mr. Fenton, and 
 with these to support my accusations, and with the 
 influence which Mr. Fenton, a power in New York, 
 a man respected in Washington, could wield, Sefior 
 Del Hervalle as a distinguished envoy and a gentle- 
 man of honorable position would be unmasked be- 
 fore the world and ruined in his usefulness to 
 Castro. I sat up gripping the arm of my chair. 
 As D'Urville at Forge, my antagonist had not halted 
 at hal f -measures ; as Del Hervalle at Lavouche, 
 would he be any the more likely to do so? Did he 
 plot to forestall me, to render me helpless before I 
 could act, to condemn me in the sight of Lavouche, 
 to end my friendship with the Moores and thus 
 make any accusations which I should bring against 
 him futile because of my own apparent double- 
 dealing and treachery? Would he entangle me in 
 disgrace ! 
 
 With the realization that 1 alone could not bring 
 him to justice I sat down and wrote Jack Maitland 
 the full particulars of what had happened and what
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 127 
 
 I suspected for the future. If I knew anything of 
 Jack, or of Mr. Fenton either, they were men who 
 would not let business stand in their way of coming 
 to Lavouche. They were fighters. And the score of 
 D'Urville's crimes at Forge was not yet paid! It 
 was with a comforting sense of satisfaction, of pro- 
 vision for the morrow, that I signed and sealed 
 my narrative. The demand for their presence I had 
 made strong, stronger because of D'Urville's prob- 
 able future claim of immunity on the ground of 
 being a special ambassador. Under such a cloak 
 he could hope to contrive and plot and act un- 
 checked; any assault upon him would become an 
 international affair. Single-handed I was helpless, 
 so I urged haste, haste; D'Urville could be quick 
 therefore haste was imperative. 
 
 The letter I locked in a drawer. I would entrust 
 it to Jean, loyal Jean, who should carry it with his 
 own hand to the railroad station and with his own 
 hand place it abroad a train. A wire dispatched at 
 the same time would give Jack warning of the 
 letter's coming. Thus I laid my plans. I even 
 wrote out the telegram : 
 
 D'Urville is here with Moore as Hervalle envoy from 
 Venezuela. Plotting to finish me. Letter follows. 
 
 WOODWORTH. 
 
 Others beside the villagers of Lavouche were 
 interested in my affair. At supper I learned that 
 Andrew on his return from the village and with
 
 128 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 the marketing basket on his arm had met Betty 
 in the wood. She evinced a desire for conversa- 
 tion, of which the subject was nothing less than 
 myself. 
 
 " And on what point did she display her interest ? " 
 
 " She asked if you had known Senor Del Her- 
 valle before coming to Lavouche, and as you had 
 told me to say nothing to any one, Master Charles, 
 I answered, * No, Miss Betty, not to my knowledge ! ' 
 Then she looked at me and said, * Andrew, you 're 
 not a very good villain and you 're not accustomed 
 to lying, for your face has turned red.' Then I 
 grew redder than ever, for I had been discovered 
 in what I believed I should never be guilty of to 
 a lady. She continued, ' I see now that Mr. Wood- 
 worth and Senor Del Hervalle have met in other 
 circumstances. Tell me, Andrew, how is it that 
 Mr. Woodworth seems changed ! ' I replied, ' In 
 one thing, Miss Betty, he will never change so long 
 as he lives and that is in his love for you ! ' 
 
 I laid down my fork. " Andrew, don't you think 
 I 'm capable of conducting my own love affairs ? " 
 I inquired. 
 
 " You are very slow, I think, Master Charles," 
 was the imperturbable response. 
 
 "The devil I am!" 
 
 " Yes, sir. So I followed a bit of advice your 
 father once gave me, namely, to speak a good word 
 whenever the opportunity arose, even to a man 
 to whom you owe money. I remember how in
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 129 
 
 particular he laid emphasis on that phrase ' even 
 to a man to whom you owe money,' and Miss Betty 
 is much more than that." 
 
 The aphorisms inlaid in Andrew's mind by my 
 parent were as silver imbedded in steel; they were 
 not to be removed. 
 
 " Continue," said I. 
 
 " She inquired of me what I knew of the talk 
 about your having a map of one of France's forts. 
 The servants; she explained, had heard the accusa- 
 tion in the village and were gossiping of it at 
 Moore House. I stated that I was not in your 
 confidence to the extent of knowing what particular 
 forts you had maps of or how many. ' Master 
 Charles' father often had very important papers in 
 his possession, Miss Betty, as did his grandfather,' 
 I said. ' It would only be natural then that Master 
 Charles in his turn should have such." 
 
 I leaned back and laughed. " Next time Senor 
 Del Hervalle calls I shall turn him over to you. 
 What did Betty say?" 
 
 " For a while she did n't answer but stood in 
 thought and very lovely she looked then she 
 said, ' Andrew, you must keep good watch over 
 Charles ' ; to which I replied, * I will, Miss Betty, 
 though in his great passion for you it may be diffi- 
 cult.' ' Is he very terrible when he is thinking of 
 me ? ' she inquired. So I thought this was a good 
 opportunity, Master Charles, to advance your suit, 
 and I rejoined, ' Sometimes he is distraught, some-
 
 130 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 times in a frenzy fine,' quoting words I once read in 
 a book. Indeed, they were pointed out to me by 
 your father in this very room, who asked if I had 
 ever experienced similar symptoms. Miss Betty 
 laughed and said she must be going home. * Say 
 nothing to Charlie/ were her final words. But 
 she did not know of course that I could not do 
 that. I think you are making progress in her 
 affections." 
 
 " It would seem so," said I. 
 
 But why did Betty act so coldly toward me to my 
 face, only to take an interest in me when away? 
 Or was it only the interest which she would have 
 shown in any person? Had she discovered some- 
 thing about Del Hervalle, something indefinite which 
 yet had aroused her suspicions to the point where 
 she believed him treacherous? Possibly she had 
 good reason to think that I was in danger. 
 
 Though the sun was down, night held off and 
 evening was not yet far advanced. The air was 
 pleasant, drawing one into the open; and made 
 restless by my thoughts I walked down to the water 
 and strolled up the eastern beach. Before me the 
 white sand stretched until it disappeared in the 
 curve of the island; on the inner edge the wood 
 bordered it with a dark green cover, on the other 
 spread the ocean, swaying in long sinuous rolls that 
 glistened beneath the light which yet whitened 
 heaven. The swells traveling in across the water 
 flooded upon the rim of sands with low insistent
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 131 
 
 music like that of an immense organ; flecks of 
 foam slipped upward upon the spreading wave, 
 paused, and glided back on the receding water, only 
 to be caught once more and swept forward. A few 
 gulls circled and soared afar out, white specks. 
 Over all was the sense of immensity, of infinite 
 distance. 
 
 I had walked perhaps two hundred yards when 
 I saw Betty coming leisurely towards me. Her eyes 
 were lifted to mine at the same time I perceived her; 
 she faltered an instant, then advanced. After our 
 meeting earlier in the day I wondered if, nay, ex- 
 pected that she would ignore my presence, or at 
 best give me but cold greeting. In this, to my sur- 
 prise, I was destined to be pleasantly disappointed; 
 when she reached the spot where I stood, she stopped 
 and fixed her gaze upon my face. 
 
 " I 'm about to turn back," she said. " Will you 
 walk with me ? I 've something to say." 
 
 Side by side therefore we moved up the beach. 
 For a while she remained silent and I watched her, 
 waiting for whatever statement she desired to make. 
 Her straight lithe figure swung lightly and easily 
 forward ; no hat was on her head, leaving her golden 
 hair uncovered; the curve of her cheek and brow 
 was perfect. Her blue eyes I did not see until 
 she raised them from the sand at which she looked. 
 Some subject engaged her mind, that was plain, for 
 she seemed almost oblivious of me walking by her 
 side, and the fingers of her hands which she carried
 
 132 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 4 
 
 clasped behind her twisted together until her step 
 grew slower. 
 
 " Betty," I addressed her finally, " if it 's my silly 
 work of this afternoon that you 're thinking about, 
 I beg your pardon a hundred times. I 'm a fool 
 and am just beginning to learn it." 
 
 " I was angry at you, I must acknowledge," she 
 remarked. 
 
 " You had every right to be. But Davis " I 
 stopped. The subject would not be improved by 
 bringing his name into our conversation; my own 
 fault had been glaring enough, while an excuse 
 would only make things worse. 
 
 " Well, I was really obliged to you for taking 
 me away from him," she answered smoothly. 
 
 " You were ! By Jove, you did n't show it." 
 
 " It was a comedy." 
 
 " Tragedy, I thought it, for me," I said. 
 
 A smile dimpled her cheeks. She looked up 
 finally and laughed; and in that laugh I saw that 
 in whatever degree I had transgressed I was for- 
 given. If I had been in love with her before she 
 went away to Venezuela, I was a thousand times 
 more so now. She was adorable, I longed to take 
 her in my arms and tell her so. But not two. 
 mistakes in the same afternoon! 
 
 " Charlie," she said, and I noted that her face 
 had suddenly grown grave, " have you any reason 
 to think you are in danger ? " I halted in my tracks 
 what did she know ? " It seems strange, does n't
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 133 
 
 it," she continued, " that here on this quiet island, 
 on quiet Lavouche, where everything has been peace- 
 ful and simple, we should talk of danger. It does n't 
 seem possible, and yet yet " 
 
 "What is it, Betty?" " 
 
 " You have n't answered my question ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know whether or not I 'm in 
 danger, but I have enemies here. On what they 
 do depends the degree of danger." 
 
 " Have you any idea of it? " 
 
 " None of what I may expect." 
 
 Again she was silent, thinking. Then she said 
 quickly, " This afternoon I met Jean's half-sister. 
 She stopped me, saying she wished to speak to me, 
 and this was her message, ' Tell Mr. Woodworth 
 to go through no strange doors to beware strange 
 doors.' That was all. I sought to have her ex- 
 plain, but she would not. You know what an odd 
 dark creature she is, who seems to have no intimate 
 friends and to move through the life of Lavouche 
 solitary and self-absorbed. When I used to come 
 here as a little girl, I was always afraid of her, her 
 black luminous eyes and strange .dark face; and 
 even now I feel a queer uncanny feeling when I 
 talk with her. What did she mean? Why did she 
 send that warning? " 
 
 " Search me, Betty." And as if I might find in 
 them some explanation of the sibyllic message I 
 thrust my hands into my pockets. We stared at 
 each other.
 
 134 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " There must be some danger," she said with 
 lowered voice. 
 
 It was not extraordinary that my thoughts flew 
 to Del Hervalle. I turned and gazed up the beach 
 toward where Moore House sat, now hidden by the 
 wood; if there were danger lying in wait for me, the 
 guest at yonder house was the one to know. Betty's 
 eyes followed mine and her thoughts as well. 
 
 " I 've something more to tell you, Charlie," she 
 began. " The other night in the hall when you ran 
 through the house and came back and we were all 
 gathered together, I remembered a curious thing 
 that Ethys Fenton told me when she returned from 
 Forge. You know what happened there. One day 
 when Jack Maitland was awaiting trial by the miners 
 he crept out to the stable where he heard the Scotch- 
 man and the other villain talking D'Urville, was 
 that the man's name ? " 
 
 " D'Urville is right." 
 
 " This machinist D'Urville was asking the Scotch- 
 man to escape with him, taking the gold. And Jack 
 Maitland heard him say that he had twice been 
 warned by the scarf-pin he wore, that it always 
 worked loose when he was threatened by danger. 
 I had forgotten all about it, then suddenly it popped 
 into my head, for at lunch one noon Senor Del 
 Hervalle's pin was loose, and some one, Muriel I 
 think, called his attention to the fact. ' It is a 
 warning,' he said with a smile, and pushed it in. 
 * Whenever anything unfortunate is about to hap-
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 135 
 
 pen to me, the pin comes out.' And he went on 
 with other talk. Is it a coincidence that two men 
 should be superstitious about the same thing, or is 
 it " 
 
 " The same man, you would ask ? " 
 
 "Could such a thing be possible?" She stood 
 rapt in contemplation of such a terrible event. " And 
 then, when I mentioned his name, you remember, 
 at the time when first we sailed together, you grew 
 so excited and called him a scoundrel and asked 
 me not to speak of you to him, that I did not know 
 what to think." 
 
 It was half an inquiry; her face was a full 
 question. 
 
 " Well, if you 'd like to have your doubts put 
 at rest, Betty," I said calmly, " I can assure you 
 that Senor Del HervaMe is no other than D'Urville; 
 the two gentlemen are one and the same. Del 
 Hervalle D'Urville, perhaps you '11 observe a 
 faint resemblance in the names. Let me tell you, 
 the resemblance in character between the two men 
 is vastly more striking and I have had acquaintance 
 with both." 
 
 Betty was almost beyond speech with astonish- 
 ment. " But an envoy of Venezuela ! " she ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " And a very shrewd one too he 's made, I '11 
 wager." 
 
 " Unbelievable that he could be the same 
 man."
 
 136 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " Not at all not at all, not when you come to 
 know the gentleman as I do." 
 
 " It seems an utter " She stopped, lips parted, 
 at a loss to continue. 
 
 " If you are searching for big words," said I, 
 " it 's no help, because the fact nevertheless remains. 
 And observe, Betty, I am asking you to keep this 
 a secret can you keep a secret ? " 
 
 " Can I ! You don't know me, Charlie Wood- 
 worth. But why?" 
 
 " For the simple reason I want to keep him un- 
 suspecting that anybody besides himself knows this 
 fact until Jack Maitland gets here I have written 
 him then we '11 light the fireworks." 
 
 " And meanwhile ? " 
 
 She came closer, slipping her arm into mine and 
 looking up into my eyes. 
 
 " And meanwhile all I ask is that you walk with 
 me once in a while." 
 
 There was no answer. We moved slowly up the 
 beach towards Moore House. Night was descend- 
 ing; the light had gone out of the sky while we 
 talked, and now stars were beginning to twinkle, 
 the dark velvety surface of the ocean reflecting them 
 in swinging points of light. A cool breeze crept up 
 and touched our cheeks and stirred the little tendrils 
 about Betty's brow; in the wood a few birds were 
 giving their last calls among the boughs ; along our 
 path the water curled and broke and spread up- 
 ward in a line of snowy white. Night coming down
 
 STRATEGY UPON AN ISLAND 137 
 
 upon the majestic ocean, night setting lamps along 
 the sky, how inexpressibly beautiful! Little won- 
 der thought of maps and enemies and danger van- 
 ished from my mind. A light hand was on my 
 arm, the girl I loved was by my side, a dream of 
 happiness filled the world.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN 
 
 Pilon had at last won the prominence in the vil- 
 lage which he had long desired; if it was only 
 temporary, only by sufferance of the more sedate 
 fishermen who knew him for what he was and only 
 because there was a mystery in his accusation which 
 I had not come forward to remove, it was none the 
 less a degree of prominence. The vanity of the 
 man therefore fed fat. And at last so impatient 
 did he become, so thoroughly did he believe himself 
 to have intimidated me, so confident did he feel that 
 he, Pilon, was the prime mover in this affair, that 
 he forgot Del Hervalle and conceived the brilliant 
 notion of ending all mystery by taking over the map 
 into his own care. Thus he would show what man- 
 ner of man Pilon was, thus he would reap fresh 
 honors " and save France." Now, in all likelihood, 
 Pilon had escaped from Bordeaux before police 
 hands could reach out and take him in the par- 
 ticular crime he chanced to be engaged in at the 
 moment, but the above phrase sounded well though 
 it meant nothing on his tongue. He would have 
 sold France for two sous if he could have found a 
 buyer.
 
 A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN 139 
 
 So it happened therefore next morning, while I 
 was busy overhauling the cat-boat on the beach and 
 putting a touch of paint here and there on her bot- 
 tom, that the man appeared before me with this new 
 purpose in his mind. Dressed in overalls and an old 
 shirt and wearing a sou'wester against the sun, I was 
 assiduously filling a crack with white lead when his 
 shadow falling athwart the little craft caused me to 
 look up. 
 
 He stared at me insolently, twirling his mous- 
 tache. " Here you, I have come for the map," he 
 said. 
 
 Without appearing to pay further attention to 
 him I continued my work. Delicately I drew the 
 paint brush along the line, paused to examine the 
 result, then dipped the brush in the pail and repeated 
 the operation. 
 
 " Here you, look here ! " he shouted. 
 
 " Oh, you 're there, are you ? " I answered, rest- 
 ing my brush and straightening up. " What do 
 you want ? " 
 
 He glared, twirling his moustache furiously. 
 
 " For the map. Come, little man, you 're keep- 
 ing me waiting me, Pilon." 
 
 I looked him over. His thick-set figure evidenced 
 strength, but on his face were all the signs of brutal 
 dissipation which betokened that strength under- 
 mined. No doubt in his native city he had been one 
 of those rough fellows who constantly make trouble 
 for the police, who jostle respectable people, ter-
 
 140 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 rorize weaklings, and bully his own kind. In Paris 
 he would have developed into an Apache, but he 
 had never got to Paris and therefore remained a 
 lazy, intolerable braggart. He it was who had let 
 loose the story concerning my betraying France 
 at Del Hervalle's instigation of course. Evidently 
 he expected no long resistance. I would provide him 
 matter for another boastful tale. 
 
 " I am very busy this morning, my good Pilon," 
 I said quietly. " You '11 have to come another time." 
 And I fell again to painting. 
 
 " Pilon comes but once and asks but once. Be 
 quick! Run and fetch the map." 
 
 I paused, pretending stupidity. " But that makes 
 three times you 've asked for it.'* 
 
 " Asked ! Pilon orders." 
 
 " Ordered then three times, as I say." 
 
 My quietness deceived him, which was my pur- 
 pose. He came nearer, struck a pose intended to 
 create fear, I imagine ; he stood with feet apart, one 
 thumb hooked in his belt, a threatening look upon 
 his face. This latter I returned mildly. 
 
 " Will you go, boy, or shall Pilon kick you to 
 the house ? " 
 
 " Did Sefior Del Hervalle send you ? " 
 
 " Sefior Del Hervalle, no. I " he tapped his 
 breast "I act alone." 
 
 I believed him. The envoy had not guessed how 
 vigorously the seed he planted would thrive; Del 
 Hervalle had shrunk in the fellow's estimation while
 
 A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN 141 
 
 Pilon had grown. I filled out the pause by drawing 
 the brush along the seam. 
 
 " The boat should be finished first, monsieur," I 
 considered aloud, " so that the sun will dry the 
 paint." 
 
 " Boat, ha ! I am to be kept waiting for a boat, 
 mon Dieu! " And he burst into a peal of raucous 
 laughter. 
 
 " I fear so." 
 
 " Pilon to wait on a boat, ha, ha! " He reached 
 forth a hand and seized my shoulder. " I see I 
 must kick you up yonder, after all." 
 
 As he clutched me, I settled myself against the 
 bottom of the little craft, planted my heels in the 
 sand, and stiffened my body. This would presently 
 grow amusing, thought I. Pilon pulled; I did not 
 budge. The veins swelled on his forehead and 
 his chest was strained in effort; his lips parted 
 and drew back like an animal's disclosing his yellow 
 teeth. 
 
 " I am very busy to-day, Pilon," I remarked, " and 
 the boat must be finished. Come to-morrow and then 
 we '11 see." 
 
 " Scelerat!" he hissed, jerking furiously, "you 
 shall lick my boots." 
 
 Tug as he would, he could not make headway. 
 Passion blazed up in him; he released his grip and 
 struck a blow at me. But for this I did not wait. 
 Springing forward, I seized him by the waist, 
 tripped his feet, and flung him on the sand. Like
 
 142 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 a wild-cat he was up, his hand flew to his coat, 
 and he whipped out a knife. Before I could dart 
 behind the boat he leaped at me, dodged the paint- 
 brush which I cast at him, and plunged forward. 
 As an amusement I suddenly had doubts of this 
 encounter; the man was a savage at best, and now 
 all his primitive instincts to slay were aroused; he 
 was beyond reasoning. Side-stepping, I struck my 
 fist at him scarcely with aim, a glancing blow which 
 landed only on his shoulder though it checked his 
 rush; yet it gave me the instant I needed to jump 
 in, seize his wrist with my left hand, and throw my 
 right arm about his body. The advantage was on 
 his side, for in turning I had lost my balance, so 
 that when we came down upon the sand I fell under- 
 neath. Still for the moment I breathed easier. 
 He could not use his knife, nor could he gouge my 
 eyes, since I held his left arm against his body. 
 His fierce breath was in my face, his red-rimmed 
 eyes glared into mine, and I was well aware that no 
 half-way measures would now serve. I set myself 
 to work with all the skill I had acquired in wrestling 
 to overturn him and secure the mastery. Wrapping 
 my leg about his and bringing it to bear, sinking my 
 fist into his back as hard as I was able, and sud- 
 denly doubling back the hand which held the knife, 
 I put forth every ounce of my strength. A gasp 
 was wrung from his throat; his teeth set. Then 
 suddenly slipping my free hand up and around his 
 jaw and crooking my knee over his legs a trick
 
 A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN 143 
 
 learned from a Japanese wrestler I gave his head 
 a twist that he would long remember, holding his 
 thighs as in a vice. His body relaxed, a groan of 
 pain escaped him, and over he fell, I on top. I still 
 gripped his jaw, twisted his face into the sand. 
 
 " Drop the knife," I ordered. 
 
 An instant he hesitated, then let it fall. I sprang 
 up, seized it with one hand and his collar with the 
 other, and commanded him to rise ; before he could 
 gather himself to resist further I hustled him round 
 the boat and hurled him into the water, where he 
 dropped splashing on hands and knees. When he 
 rose and faced me, I was ready to meet him, an oar 
 held poised as a weapon. 
 
 " Move farther out," I ordered. Sullenly he drew 
 back until the water washed about his knees. " Now 
 we can discuss the map calmly." 
 
 He spat out brine and made no answer, except 
 to glare at me; he was no longer the masterful 
 Pilon. Bareheaded, for his cap had fallen off when 
 I pitched him into the water and now floated a little 
 distance off, his unkempt hair wet and bedraggled, 
 the curl soaked out of his moustache, he remained 
 only an enraged brute. One side of his face yet 
 showed red where it had been bruised by the 
 sand. 
 
 Finally he waded a few steps, as if to make land 
 beyond where I stood, but this I had no intention of 
 permitting. Still holding my oar aloft, I kept pace 
 with him in his advance, moving along the beach
 
 ,yv 
 
 144 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 when he moved, halting when he halted. Neither 
 of us uttered a word; speech was unnecessary, for 
 each knew the mind of the other, and the game was 
 played in silence and with exchanged looks. Twice 
 he sought to outdistance me by speed in order to 
 effect his escape from the water, though of course 
 he met with disappointment ; in the water he was at 
 a disadvantage; the current impeded his progress, 
 held his feet. At last he perceived that I was deter- 
 mined to balk him, and giving up further attempt 
 set out to wade to the village, or if not so far until 
 I grew weary of accompanying him. I chose to go 
 even to Lavouche ; I flung down the oar and drove 
 him the whole way, he wading the distance knee- 
 deep in water. Hereafter he would not be able to 
 boast before the fishermen that he would cut my 
 comb. 
 
 We were first seen approaching by a number of 
 children, who ran to meet us, surprised at the spec- 
 tacle of two men walking in such fashion ; and they 
 tailed along behind me in whispering wonder. Then 
 came Gaspard, the boat-maker, and three or four 
 men who had been calking boats on the sands. 
 
 " Hola ! why do you walk in The Throat? " one 
 shouted at him. 
 
 " He prefers it," I said. " His head is hot, but 
 his feet are cool." 
 
 A burst of laughter greeted the sally. The men 
 grasped the underlying significance of the picture; 
 Pilon had bragged how he would trim my feathers,
 
 A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN 145 
 
 and, behold, here I was sailing him along the water 
 like a boat! It was humorous; the fishermen 
 cracked jokes and shouted advice how one could 
 best walk on water. Pilon answered nothing. He 
 moved straight ahead, until we came to the beached 
 boats, where I brought an end to the comedy. 
 
 " Come again to-morrow and we will discuss the 
 map further," I stated in conclusion. 
 
 He shook the water out of his hair, scowled, and 
 made straight up the street for the inn. Brandy is 
 good for damp feet. I watched him, then turned 
 to the men and children; they were an expectant 
 audience, standing in a circle waiting until I should 
 be pleased to explain the farce. 
 
 " Pilon is a great and wise man," said I. " La- 
 vouche appears to be disturbed about a certain paper 
 which I own, and Pilon said to himself that he would 
 render a service to Lavouche, he would assure the 
 mind of Lavouche, he would bring hither the docu- 
 ment, he, Pilon. Therefore half an hour ago he 
 came to me twirling his moustache at the place 
 where I painted Jean's boat. ' Come, little man/ 
 said he, ' run and fetch the paper, or I will kick you 
 all the way up to the house. Make haste, do not 
 keep Pilon waiting/ ' I paused dramatically, open- 
 ing my hands. " But I was busy with my painting. 
 So he put out a hand in order, I suppose, to kick 
 me along as he said. But could I leave the boat 
 unpainted ? No. We scuffled a little. Pilon, vexed', 
 drew a knife observe/' And I produced his knife
 
 146 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 which I had placed in my belt. A murmur of as- 
 tonishment ran round the circle. "It is a good 
 knife; I will keep it to cut fish. Presently Pilon 
 found himself face down in the water and so he 
 returned wading to Lavouche. I regret that Pilon 
 must be disappointed; but, consider, could I leave 
 the boat unpainted?" 
 
 The jest was appreciated. The men slapped their 
 thighs and laughed, saying over and over, " Pilon, 
 oh that Pilon ! " while the children though uncom- 
 prehending nevertheless joined in the mirth. 
 
 Old Gaspard after a time rubbed his nose 
 shrewdly. " But Pilon will find another knife, 
 Charles." 
 
 " Undoubtedly. Yet on the other hand there is 
 also more water in the ocean." 
 
 " Take care, take care," he warned. " The fel- 
 low may not choose to march so easily next time." 
 
 As I returned home, I saw that matters were 
 developing into definite shape and events drawing 
 to a crisis. My situation was thus : the German 
 Baron was watching and waiting and while not per- 
 haps an active enemy, at least an opponent who bided 
 the time when he might avail himself of an oppor- 
 tunity to force a seizure of the map ; Pilon, who in 
 his vanity had thought to bully me, was now a bitter 
 and revengeful foe; and if I did not count the 
 secretary, Davis, who had shown no particular ani- 
 mosity, there was, last and most important, Del 
 Hervalle, who seemed determined to ruin me.
 
 A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN 147 
 
 Against this trio I could set Andrew, Jean, and the 
 old boat-maker. All other persons on the island, 
 notwithstanding that their sympathies might be with 
 me, could not be counted upon to engage themselves 
 actively in my behalf. When I considered my ad- 
 herents, how inadequate they seemed ! Andrew was 
 old, Gaspard was old, and Jean was busy with his 
 nets. If Billy were here and Maitland! Well, 
 I should have to do the best I could alone. 
 
 The tide made about five o'clock. It was nearly 
 six when I was surprised to see a delegation of 
 some half-dozen fishermen come around the edge of 
 the wood and ascend the slope to Stag Lodge. Evi- 
 dently they had walked straight from the beaching 
 of their boats to my house, without landing their 
 fish or partaking of supper. Antoine Surgon, a solid, 
 gray-bearded man, headed the little party, and it was 
 not until he spoke that I remembered he filled the 
 office of mayor of Lavouche, an office which, since 
 the village was seldom ruffled and had for important 
 events only births, marriages, and deaths, gave small 
 cause to be recollected. With him were three others 
 of the older and more sedate men, besides Jean, my 
 friend, and Pilon, my enemy. The latter wore a 
 surly determined look, though he walked in the 
 rear. 
 
 I stepped off the veranda to meet them. 
 
 " Good evening, Charles Woodworth," Surgon 
 greeted. " We 're making you a visit of business 
 which concerns Lavouche."
 
 148 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " You 're welcome," said I, " but you surprise 
 me. I don't recall any matter of business with which 
 I and your village have to do." 
 
 Surc.on lighted a short pipe, puffed it until it was 
 burning well, pushed it into the corner of his mouth, 
 and spread his legs. 
 
 " It is that map now. Pilon here and others say 
 you have stolen a map of France's fort, which we 
 don't believe, but it seems you have told Gaspard 
 that you have such a map. Eh, now ? " 
 
 " Surc.on, I told Gaspard I had a map but not 
 of France." 
 
 "Of that we do not know ; Pilon " 
 
 " Pilon is a liar," I interrupted, looking over their 
 heads at him. 
 
 " Come forward, Pilon," the mayor ordered. 
 
 The man pushed to the front. Now that he was 
 supported by others he regained something of his 
 assurance; he twirled his moustache, which still 
 drooped from its wetting, while he insolently eyed 
 me. Then he half turned to his companions, spread- 
 ing one hand wide with the fingers apart. 
 
 " It is true, my comrades. I have seen the map," 
 That was even beyond what I had expected of his 
 audacity. " With these eyes Pilon saw and ex- 
 amined the map. It is a paper so long and so 
 wide." He measured a square in the air. " The 
 paper is of linen, light blue in color, and with 
 writing in German." 
 
 I started. This was craft beyond Pilon; Del
 
 A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN 149 
 
 Hervalle's cunning was in this. The tool had been 
 well coached. Such a move was exactly what the 
 envoy would project, a pawn move perhaps, but 
 pawns could be advanced until grown dangerous. 
 
 " You have heard," Surgon announced. " Is it so, 
 or is it not?" 
 
 There was nothing to answer but the truth, com- 
 promising as it might prove. " That description 
 is somewhat like it but the man lies, he never 
 saw it." 
 
 "Let the map speak between us and see who 
 lies," Pilon said coolly, " let him bring the map." 
 
 Several nodded their heads. Whether Pilon lied 
 or not and he usually lied oftener than he uttered 
 the truth it would be a good occasion, they 
 judged, to see the map and satisfy their curiosity. 
 Surgon also nodded. 
 
 " Let the map be brought, then we shall know." 
 
 " But you '11 be no wiser than before," I argued. 
 " There is no name on it. I myself don't even know 
 the name or country to which it belongs." 
 
 " Perceive, Surgon, it is convenient at times to 
 have no name on a map and to forget a name." 
 And Pilon smiled significantly. 
 
 Surgon puffed his pipe. " You chatter like a 
 parrot," said he. Then addressing me, " Bring the 
 map and we shall decide." 
 
 That was final. These fishermen were stubborn 
 folk as well as curious; they had me cornered and 
 did not hesitate shrewdly to press the advantage.
 
 150 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 Any other time I should have smiled, but did not 
 do so now. I hesitated. To show the chart to 
 them would be only to half-satisfy their desire for 
 knowledge of the affair; not to grant their de- 
 mand would put me in the position of being afraid 
 to do so and their doubts would instantly change 
 to belief in my guilt this I knew, for I had grown 
 up in Lavouche, so to speak, learning the quirks 
 and crinkles of their minds. As I say, I hesitated 
 between the two courses ; Del Hervalle had certainly 
 cast me into a quandary by this trick. Well, what 
 he would gain by it was yet to be seen. 
 
 I went into the house, where I found Andrew 
 gazing solemnly through a window at the small 
 assemblage. Carrying the silver tankard into the 
 kitchen, I poured forth the wine into a pitcher, ex- 
 tracted the plug which held the dish in place, and 
 slipped the latter out. The map was dry and safe. 
 
 " Set a table on the grass," I bade Andrew. 
 
 When this was done, I spread the sheet upon it 
 where all could see. The men pushed back their 
 sou'westers and bent stolidly over the chart; no 
 doubt it carried little information to their minds, 
 but nevertheless they studied it with satisfaction; 
 they could return to the village and report that they 
 had indeed beheld the disputed drawing. 
 
 " Is Pilon a liar? " scornfully asked that worthy, 
 who had been gazing upon the table as eagerly as 
 the others. 
 
 " It looks like nothing," one fisherman said sagely.
 
 A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN 151 
 
 " Nothing at all," agreed another. 
 
 With a stubby forefinger still resting upon the 
 sheet Surgon regarded me. "Is it a fort?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Of France?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Will you swear to it? " 
 
 " How can I swear when I don't know of what 
 country it is ? But I believe it is one of Germany's." 
 
 " Then why can't you swear? " 
 
 " Because I do not know positively." 
 
 He looked at the map, then at me, then again 
 at the map. All the others listened with avid ears. 
 Only Jean stood back a pace, with arms folded, de- 
 clining to join in their business. For him my word 
 was sufficient. 
 
 " We must have no harm come to France," said a 
 fisherman. 
 
 " None will come to her. Use your eyes, man 
 this is a German map," I declared. 
 
 " That is true, Charles Woodworth." 
 
 But I had counted too soon upon the effect of such 
 a statement. Here Del Hervalle, through his pupil, 
 showed his genius; his scheme had been thoroughly 
 thought out, no detail overlooked, no provision 
 against mistake missed. Pilon went on with his 
 part, and if he were a ruffian, yet he was not a 
 fool. 
 
 " One moment, Monsieur le Maire," he addressed 
 Surgon, " consider the writing. If it is a French
 
 152 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 map for Frenchmen, it would be in the French 
 language. But if it is a French map to sell to 
 Germans, I ask you, would it be written in French 
 or in German ? " 
 
 " Mon Dieu! German, to be sure." 
 
 Pilon stretched forth one of his hands. " This 
 is a French map in German." 
 
 " Or a German map in German," I countered. 
 
 The others stood in silence, their minds balanced 
 between two opinions. I said it was German and 
 my word had always been respected and yet 
 stranger things had occurred than maps being sold 
 by reputable people. Pilon maintained it was 
 French. Of course every one knew what Pilon's 
 word was worth; yet had he not been right and I 
 wrong when he described the map? As for Pilon 
 he was well satisfied with the way affairs were 
 going. One thumb was hooked in his belt as was 
 its habit; the other, together with forefinger, 
 twisted and twirled and flourished first one end of 
 his moustache and then the other. He was in his 
 element ; he stood in the limelight ; he had regained 
 his former position of prominence, which I had 
 temporarily dashed when I drove him wading to 
 Lavouche. From time to time he cast an insolent 
 look at me, while the fishermen studied and weighed 
 and considered. From time to time he smiled tri- 
 umphantly. And he was not yet done. 
 
 " Ask Monsieur Woodworth what a certain Ger- 
 man gentleman does here in Lavouche, if this is
 
 153 
 
 not a French map for Germans? " he said to Surgon. 
 " Why does that gentleman stay here in the village 
 apparently doing nothing? Did he not arrive the 
 same afternoon as Monsieur Woodworth ? Does he 
 not visit at this house? Is it likely that such a 
 gentleman would stop here if he had not special 
 business? Possibly Monsieur can inform us of the 
 nature of that business." 
 
 Now, as he concluded and before any one could 
 speak, Fortune, who had until now stood neutral, 
 stepped over to Pilon's side. It was a scurvy trick ; 
 without any additional weight of evidence against 
 me I had all the difficulties to contend with I could 
 well manage. Then to fling another weight into 
 the opposite scale! 
 
 At this instant when matters hung by a hair the 
 German himself strolled out of the wood. Surprise 
 sprang upon his face at the unexpected group before 
 the door; he paused, but only for a brief interval, 
 then continued to advance, lightly switching stalks 
 of grass with his bamboo stick. His face once more 
 was composed. If he experienced any curiosity as 
 to this unwonted gathering, it was not apparent, and 
 since all eyes were fastened on him, making retreat 
 impossible, he came forward without hesitation. 
 
 " But since the gentleman himself is here, per- 
 haps he will relieve Monsieur Woodworth of the 
 necessity of answering," continued Pilon. 
 
 The turn of the affair was dramatic and in his 
 favor; the scoundrel could be nothing else but
 
 154 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 pleased. Glances passed among the fishermen. They 
 too were well suited by the dramatic occurrence. 
 
 As for the Baron, he looked from one to another 
 of the group, until his eyes suddenly fell on the map 
 spread out upon the table. However he betrayed no 
 emotion. His look rested on me thoughtfully, then 
 he smiled. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said in French. " I 
 was unaware that I interrupted a conference. I will 
 withdraw." 
 
 " Remain, monsieur. It concerns you," Surgon 
 replied. " May I, as mayor of the village of 
 Lavouche, inquire the purpose of your residence on 
 the island ? " 
 
 By the line that creased his brow I could see 
 that 'the Baron was doing some fast thinking. To 
 come all at once into a council as he had done, to 
 perceive the map spread open to a dozen eyes, the 
 map which he was determined to have, that would 
 have disconcerted any man. And further to be im- 
 mediately asked the explanation of his sojourn was 
 under the circumstances extremely embarrassing. 
 What his thoughts were would have been interesting 
 to know. The fishermen, myself, the open map 
 what did he imagine concerning it all ? 
 
 " I Ve private interests with this gentleman," he 
 responded, indicating me by a gesture. 
 
 " May I inquire what these are? " 
 
 Whether he suspected that I had made known our 
 relations, or whether he simply determined upon
 
 A DELEGATION OF FISHERMEN 155 
 
 a bold stroke of chance, I do not undertake to state. 
 At any rate, he drew his walking-stick slowly 
 through his fingers and said: 
 
 " The question appears impertinent, Monsieur le 
 Maire, so long as I give you no occasion to find 
 fault with my conduct. However, if the functions 
 of your office include an interrogation of visitors, 
 I '11 answer. I 'm here for the purpose of obtain- 
 ing this map from Monsieur Woodworm." And 
 swinging his stick to and fro he awaited further 
 questions. 
 
 There was need of none. Surc.on and his com- 
 panions took a long look at him, next at me, and 
 finally at each other. Pilon twirled his moustache 
 triumphantly; Jean continued with arms folded, 
 stolid, unmoved; and I wanted to laugh laugh 
 hysterically at the sheer grotesqueness of the thing. 
 
 Pilon put out a hand to take the map. I struck 
 it away. 
 
 " Not yet, my friend," I said, and folding the 
 sheet slipped it into my pocket. 
 
 " We will bid you good evening and depart to 
 consider this matter further," Surgon said; and he 
 bowed with a formal little bow that sat strangely 
 on his figure, a bow however which was full of 
 significance. 
 
 " As you please," said I. 
 
 And down the slope they went in silence, until 
 they turned and vanished around the wood. After 
 that their voices broke out in a chatter which pres-
 
 156 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 ently died away as they receded. Jean had re- 
 mained. I drew him to one side and urged him 
 not to believe appearances; for answer he assured 
 me that he trusted my word before everything else 
 in the world. I gave him the letter and telegram 
 I had written to Maitland, explained that it would 
 clear up this matter, and warned him to carry them 
 with his own hands to the neighboring railroad 
 station. This he agreed to do first thing next morn- 
 ing, after which he took his departure. 
 
 Then I went back to the Baron, who was gazing 
 speculatively out to sea. 
 
 " Did I embarrass you by my little speech, Mr. 
 iWoodworth ? " he inquired. 
 
 " We '11 both be embarrassed by it, I fear, in the 
 near future." 
 
 "If agreeable to you, I '11 be pleased to be further 
 informed of this extraordinary matter." 
 
 " The right is yours. Our neighbor, Senor Del 
 Hervalle, spread the report that I possessed a map 
 of a French fort which I was about to sell to you. 
 As a result, I was in the midst of an investigation 
 when you arrived; your words, however, termi- 
 nated it." 
 
 " Ah, I see," the Baron said. He mused a mo- 
 ment. " I 'm beginning to develop a strong ad- 
 miration for our Venezuelan friend."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 UNDER SURVEILLANCE 
 
 The chief business of fishermen is to fish; other 
 affairs have therefore to be arranged accordingly. 
 It seemed that the villagers who were now thor- 
 oughly convinced of my complicity in selling one 
 of France's war maps did not quite know what to 
 do about the matter. I was an American citizen 
 and I was on American soil; there did not appear 
 to be a law that any one knew of which fitted the 
 case. The delegation, with the exception of Jean, 
 having invited a number of other men to join them 
 in consultation, met after supper in Surgon's house. 
 Long they talked, discussed, agreed, and bickered 
 without arriving anywhere, until finally Surgon him- 
 self thumped the table and said they would set a 
 guard on me and one on the German in order that 
 the paper should not be passed between us; and in 
 the interval an effort should be made to secure the 
 map, which if successful would result in its either 
 being destroyed or sent to France. That seemed as 
 good a plan as any and meanwhile it was time 
 for bed. 
 
 The first thing that I saw in the morning, in con- 
 sequence of this decision, was the figure of a man
 
 158 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 sitting on the grass before Stag Lodge, with his 
 back to the trunk of a tree, a cigarette in his mouth 
 and his face towards my door. When I went out 
 to him I discovered the man to be Esper, the little 
 rascal at whom Pilon had flung the wine-glass the 
 first afternoon I visited the inn. He made himself 
 very comfortable ; the sun slanted under the boughs 
 and fell warm upon his body and he smoked in 
 peace and indolence; for it was a task that would 
 require little exertion, that is, if I were sensible 
 and remained at home and did not move about, 
 causing him inconvenience. He might even take 
 naps so he explained to me, after stating the pur- 
 pose of his presence here. From his standpoint 
 there appeared to be certain obligations on my side 
 as well as on his. 
 
 He was a meager, middle-aged, sharp, undersized 
 man, but quick and impudent; he wore neither 
 moustache nor beard, and the features of his face 
 were all bent to one side, as if he had stood in a 
 strong wind; his eyes were small and bright, his 
 nose too long, and a tricky smile kept constantly 
 coming and going upon his lips. Altogether he was 
 just the sort of fellow to tail after Pilon ; in Paris, 
 when he drifted about the Montmartre district, he 
 was probably known as The Rat, or The Beak, or 
 by some equally suggestive name. A dirty red silk 
 handkerchief was tied about his neck, a bunch of 
 fish cord stuck out of one of his pockets. In the 
 conversation which ensued he informed me of what
 
 UNDER SURVEILLANCE 159 
 
 decision had been reached by the villagers as to 
 myself, also that Pilon would some day put a knife 
 into my back. 
 
 I jingled the coins in my pocket. He pricked up 
 an ear. 
 
 " You 're well paid for this ? " I asked. 
 
 He snapped his fingers. 
 
 After a moment I sat down upon the grass and 
 drew forth my cigarette case. Flinging away the 
 cigarette he smoked, he reached out his hand as 
 would one comrade to another and helped himself 
 to three, one of which he lighted. 
 
 " You don't fish much of late, you and Descarte 
 and Pilon?" 
 
 " La, la, why should we fish ? " 
 
 " To be sure, why should you, while Senor Del 
 Hervalle remains here." 
 
 " Sefior Del Hervalle ? " His tone was polite. 
 
 " He pays of course but Pilon skims the cream, 
 I suppose." A flicker went over his face. " And 
 you and Descarte take what he gives you, which is 
 little. Is n't that the case? " 
 
 " Monsieur, you talk of strange things." 
 
 I took out a Collar and let it lie in my open palm, 
 where he regarded it steadily out of the notch of 
 his eye. 
 
 " Is n't such the case ? " 
 
 " No, monsieur." 
 
 I laid a second beside the first. " Eh ? " 
 
 He considered. " No, monsieur."
 
 160 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 A third was added and I looked the question. 
 
 " No, monsieur," said he at last. I moved my 
 hand to return the money to my pocket. " Yes, 
 monsieur," he corrected. 
 
 " Not so fast, Esper," as he stretched his fingers 
 to take them. " Pilon drinks the cream, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes, damn him ! And some night he '11 bite the 
 blade of a knife!" 
 
 He spat out the words venomously. It was plain 
 to see that there was little love lost between the 
 rogues; Esper and Descarte squirmed under their 
 leader's domineering. I handed him the dollars. 
 Three facts I had discovered as a result of our brief 
 transaction: Del Hervalle was keeping the men in 
 his pay for some purpose or other, Pilon had aroused 
 the secret jealousy of the other two by retaining 
 the major part of the hire-money, and this rascal 
 in front of me could be purchased. 
 
 Esper proved to be not such an unpleasant com- 
 panion as I had imagined. He possessed a certain 
 lively form of wit and regaled me with tales of 
 escapades through which he had passed in various 
 European cities. By a natural inference he should 
 now have been in the galleys, but when I mentioned 
 that fact to him he looked at me in pained surprise. 
 
 " What, the galleys for a few little jests ! " he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 Descarte, who had been set to watch the Baron, 
 did not find his task so pleasant. The German sim- 
 ply ignored his presence, made no response to the
 
 UNDER SURVEILLANCE 161 
 
 man's overtures towards conversation, and walked 
 him about until the fellow's feet were blistered. 
 As I amused myself by joking with Esper, Von 
 Hussman took his pleasure in seeing the other fel- 
 low exercise. As he told me afterwards, he had in 
 the beginning no intention of making Descarte earn 
 his warder's pence, but when the man protested that 
 his feet were growing sore the Baron then de- 
 liberately put himself in motion. Lavouche could 
 not interfere ; indeed, it began to see the humor of 
 the match. Von Hussman walked from the village 
 to the rock of La Dent; he followed up the main 
 beach five miles to the lighthouse; returning, he 
 made me a brief visit, circled the island, and went 
 south. By noon he had covered fifteen miles. 
 Descarte thought at last he was done, but he did 
 not guess the depths of Teuton villainy. At one 
 o'clock Von Hussman set forth again and walked 
 this time ten miles beyond the lighthouse. They 
 arrived at the village towards evening and entered 
 the inn. 
 
 " Madame," said the Baron, " bring me a pint of 
 wine. I must walk thrice around the island before 
 supper. Afterwards " 
 
 But there was to be no afterwards for Descarte. 
 He staggered to a table and fell into a seat. 
 
 " Mon Dieu, mon Dieu! This wild beast has 
 killed me ! " he cried ; and sat in a stupor until the 
 inn-woman brought him a glass of brandy. 
 
 About the middle of the afternoon Jean came to
 
 162 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 inform me that both letter and telegram had been 
 sent and were now speeding towards New York. 
 That eased my mind of a weight. With Maitland 
 and Mr. Fenton present to identify Del Hervalle as 
 the D'Urville of Forge, thief and murderer, even 
 Mr. Moore could no longer deny acknowledgment 
 of the man's identity. Cheered by this thought and 
 having fresh confidence that now things would be- 
 gin to run aright, I set out for Moore House with 
 my mind made up to lay aside worry and enjoy 
 Betty's company. Whether Esper would have the 
 courage, or perhaps the better word is audacity, to 
 follow at my heels into Moore House was a ques- 
 tion whose solution afforded me a minor interest. 
 The rascal did not oppose my movements; at noon 
 I had had Andrew supply him with a meal better 
 than he had tasted for many a day, and this, with a 
 handful of cigars which I discovered he had appro- 
 priated from my jar, kept him in good humor. 
 Andrew, to be sure, was horrified at having such 
 a guest at Stag Lodge, but then Andrew was always 
 fastidious. 
 
 I found Betty and Muriel Nesbit upon the lawn. 
 
 " Who is that? " they both exclaimed, when they 
 beheld Esper lounging at my side. 
 
 " This is my squire." The little Frenchman 
 smirked. " Take off your hat," I ordered. He 
 did so. " And retire to that tree." 
 
 He held out his hand. 
 
 "What do you want?"
 
 UNDER SURVEILLANCE 163 
 
 Tapping his trousers pocket so that the dollars 
 I had given him clinked, he lowered one eyelid and 
 again stretched forth his hand. This was bargain- 
 ing carried too far. I caught him by the scruff of 
 the neck, shook him once, and marched him to the 
 tree to which I had earlier pointed. 
 
 " Oh, la, if you desire, monsieur." And he com- 
 posed himself in comfort. 
 
 " In the name of mystery, what does this mean ? " 
 Muriel exclaimed. 
 
 " That fellow Esper presumed on our new ac- 
 quaintance. The village has taken it into its head 
 that I 'm about to injure France by selling a docu- 
 ment I have to Germany. Hence, Esper. He is my 
 guard." 
 
 " How ridiculous ! " 
 
 " On the contrary, it 's serious. I 'm a watched 
 man. When Lavouche makes up its mind to do a 
 thing, Lavouche does it in earnest. The esteem in 
 which I supposed myself to be held by the good 
 villagers has turned out to be suspicion, and this 
 fellow has been assigned to act as my guard." 
 
 They looked at him as if he might have been 
 a strange fish out of the sea a strange fish he 
 was, for that matter, in Lavouche waters. Unem- 
 barrassed, pleased in fact as he afterwards related 
 to me by the fine attention of such beautiful ladies, 
 an honor he had rarely been accorded, he smirked 
 and smiled impudently and cocked his old hat on 
 one side.
 
 164 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 We strolled upon the lawn. Some time later a 
 servant approached and informed me that Mr. 
 Moore would be pleased to have me join him in 
 the library. Making my excuses to the young 
 ladies, I followed him into the house and to the 
 room designated, where I found Mr. Moore, Senor 
 Del Hervalle, and the latter's secretary, all sitting 
 about a table. The top was strewn with papers; 
 the gentlemen were busy on diplomatic affairs. An 
 agreement had been reached, it appeared, between 
 the representative of our government and that of 
 Venezuela in regard to a certain concession which an 
 American rubber company had purchased in the 
 republic to the south and which had subsequently 
 become involved in dispute. The company had ap- 
 pealed to the United States government; this was 
 one of the minor matters which had occupied Mr. 
 Moore while upon his mission and engaged him 
 now during his sojourn here in Lavouche, where 
 he and his guest might work without interruption 
 and enjoy the coolness of a northern climate. A 
 memorandum of agreement had been prepared, and 
 as they wished a witness's name appended to the 
 same before they submitted it to the various parties 
 concerned, I affixed my signature to the papers. 
 In the course of the conversation I learned that 
 Senor Del Hervalle would presently return to 
 Venezuela. The most pressing matters upon which 
 the two men had been negotiating had been satis- 
 factorily concluded; others would be later settled;
 
 UNDER SURVEILLANCE 165 
 
 a week perhaps would yet be necessary to discuss 
 certain details and arrange for a future continuance 
 of diplomatic inquiries. In a week at the latest 
 Senor Del Hervalle planned to take his departure 
 from Lavouche to visit New York, Washington, 
 and afterwards sail to South America. 
 
 And during that week? I looked at the plump 
 Frenchman; he complacently returned my gaze. 
 Suave, dignified, pleasant, garbed in his official frock 
 and wearing a handsome ascot and immaculate linen, 
 he played the role of a government functionary with 
 all the assurance and all the delicate touches of art 
 which bespoke a master-actor. I asked myself if it 
 were indeed acting. Did this work not come more 
 naturally to his genius than that of a mechanic 
 carrying an iron wrench ? Was not his talent rather 
 of the scope which manipulates the rods and levers 
 of great affairs than the bolts and screws of little 
 schemes? In other words, was he not rather the 
 real man here than he had seemed at Forge more 
 Del Hervalle than he ever had been D'Urville? Yet 
 he could not wholly wipe off the grease acquired 
 when he wore a blouse instead of a coat, could not 
 wholly abandon little schemes and devote himself 
 utterly to great ones. For behold him playing tag 
 for a map with an insignificant fellow named 
 Charles Woodworth! 
 
 It was at dinner that evening, to which I re- 
 mained, that the subject of my surveillance natur- 
 ally came up for discussion. One could not have
 
 166 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 such a shadow as Esper following at heel or waiting 
 before a door like a patient terrier for his master 
 without creating comment. Therefore I narrated 
 the visit which had been made to me by the fisher- 
 men, mentioning merely that they suspected me of 
 disposing of a military map stolen from France to 
 a German stranger. 
 
 " Such is not the case, Mr. Woodworth ? " It 
 was Davis who asked the question, in his usual 
 impassive voice. 
 
 " I can assure you that it 's not," said I. " I 
 also recognize your interest in the matter since our 
 embroilment upon the lawn." 
 
 " Perhaps I could justify you to Lavouche," 
 Mr. Moore said smoothly, " if I examined the 
 document." 
 
 " That would be agreeable to me." 
 
 " Since the villagers have seen it," he continued, 
 " it has become more or less of a public document. 
 You stand at present in need of an advocate. Of 
 course the charge is an absurd canard, and it 's 
 rather remarkable how it started. Some one is 
 usually responsible for such a report." 
 
 "A fellow named Pilon seems to be the chief 
 busybody." 
 
 " I Ve heard of him, also heard that you threw 
 him into the water. Was not that the story, Betty ? 
 However, it does n't explain the circumstance of 
 the insinuation about you which has been spread so 
 freely."
 
 UNDER SURVEILLANCE 167 
 
 " There 's a stranger in the village, is there not? " 
 Sefior Del Hervalle inquired blandly. 
 
 Muriel now entered the conversation. 
 
 " And a very good-looking one. I passed him 
 once in the wood road. What he 's doing here on 
 the island, I don't know, but I 'm sure he 's a gentle- 
 man who would be well worth making the acquaint- 
 ance of. Mr. Moore, you might bring him over. 
 You and Sefior Del Hervalle and Mr. Davis are 
 always busy over papers and Mr. Woodworth ap- 
 parently has no time to spare " she flashed a dis- 
 dainful look at me " so all the excitement Betty 
 and I can have is in going down and sighing over the 
 sad sea waves." 
 
 " If you 've nothing left but sighing, I shall cer- 
 tainly bring this gentleman over to occupy you, 
 young ladies." 
 
 " Thank you, I '11 put on my best frock to-morrow 
 afternoon and be waiting at the door." 
 
 By this diversion the subject of the map was 
 relegated to the background; nor did I wish it to 
 be elsewhere. I gave my attention chiefly to Betty, 
 who sat by my side, and in a minor degree to 
 Muriel, to whom I owed a return for her intimation 
 as to my lack of gallantry. Her mind was quick, 
 her tongue equally so, and we crossed swords more 
 than once in little encounters. She was not partial ; 
 Mr. Moore, Senor Del Hervalle, Davis, all of us 
 had our wit kept busy giving as good as she 
 sent.
 
 1 68 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 Talk drifted on. Betty, with whom I had been 
 conversing, turned to Davis, who sat on her oppo- 
 site side, and engaged his attention. Through the 
 banter passing back and forth I could catch the 
 trend of their words. She was lightly chaffing him 
 about his attentions to Margot of the village; it 
 had been reported that he had been seen sailing 
 with her, again walking in the wood. His answers 
 were given in a low voice and with a shadow of a 
 smile. Probably he experienced a secret exultation. 
 Betty had soundly rated me, he remembered, for 
 once interrupting their talk; indeed, she had not 
 since displayed any difference of attitude towards 
 him as a result of his presumptuous words, as might 
 have been expected, and moreover she showed a 
 regard for his comings and goings. Was there a 
 little malice in her talk of Margot, a little jealousy? 
 Thus probably he was moved to believe. He did 
 not deny her impeachment, nor excuse his actions; 
 he left her to infer that all she said might have 
 been possible and with others too might not be 
 impossible. The innocent questions she now and 
 then slipped into the general talk were unnoted. 
 It went something like this: Margot had told her 
 (white little fib) that he confided in her. A man 
 desired a friendly confidant, said he. Had Margot 
 said that no other woman should walk in the wood 
 with him? Oh, Margot might say foolish things, 
 Margot had a temper. What did Margot mean 
 when she said that he knew everything? He con-
 
 UNDER SURVEILLANCE 169 
 
 sidered, then said that Margot was a strange woman. 
 Betty's talk ran on for a time. What place had 
 Margot meant when she told her that some one 
 ought to beware of strange doors? 
 
 "The place? Why, the house " He stopped 
 suddenly and gave her a swift searching look. 
 "Did Margot say that?" 
 
 " Yes, and I 've wondered at what she hinted." 
 
 " I regret that I 'm not informed." 
 
 " You started to mention a place," she said, her 
 bright eyes exercising all of their fascination. 
 
 Half an instant he hesitated, then passed the sub- 
 ject with an evasive answer. Betty had nearly 
 snared him nearly, but not quite ; just in time 
 he had caught the words back and now was on 
 guard. I could imagine, judging from a fleeting 
 scowl on his face, that he was not at that moment 
 considering Margot with favor. 
 
 A.fter the meal was finished we went into the 
 drawing-room, where Betty seated herself at the 
 piano. The long windows were open, we gentlemen 
 had permission to smoke and (as Muriel had said) 
 ascend to our after-dinner heaven. She joined 
 Betty, and together they thumped out one of those 
 four-hand duets which everybody abominates, but 
 which Mr. Moore had requested. 
 
 I sauntered to the side of the little envoy, who 
 stood alone. 
 
 " Does n't this remind you of old times in Forge 
 House but I forget myself," I said. "You were
 
 170 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 not on the same social footing there as Frederick 
 Douglass." 
 
 He slowly removed his long amber cigarette 
 holder. 
 
 " Unfortunately, my good Charles, I was not." 
 So he no longer made pretense of denial that Forge 
 had known him. " Yet you and I had a conversation 
 or two." 
 
 " In the machine-shop, yes." 
 
 " There it was, I believe." 
 
 "Have your fingers lost their skill, Senor?" 
 
 Smiling, he raised one short hand, looked at it, 
 turned it over, and turned it back. 
 
 "What do you think?" 
 
 " Oh, I fancy you could pick a lock if you put 
 yourself to it." 
 
 " It has been some time since I tried," said he. 
 
 Mr. Moore joined us. 
 
 " Bring over the map to-morrow afternoon," he 
 said to me. " Then I '11 quiet this talk among the 
 villagers. A word from me will go a long way, 
 I think, towards assuring them." And to this I 
 agreed. 
 
 Towards ten o'clock I took my leave. As I bade 
 them all good-night, I observed that Davis was 
 absent. A few minutes previous he had been in 
 conversation with Senor Del Hervalle; so in order 
 to get an inkling of his whereabouts, if possible, I 
 mentioned that I was sorry that he was not present 
 to receive my adieux.
 
 UNDER SURVEILLANCE 171 
 
 " I have sent him away on a certain matter," 
 the Sefior explained. 
 
 It flashed into my mind that he had gone ahead 
 to waylay me, but second judgment told me this 
 was absurd. Absurd it proved when I and my guard 
 Esper made our way home. Senor Del Hervalle 
 had undoubtedly dispatched him to the library to 
 finish certain work. 
 
 " That was a magnificent meal, that of yours, 
 monsieur," Esper remarked reflectively, as we 
 proceeded. 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " I observed through a window. As yet, master, 
 I have dined only on air." 
 
 " Am I supposed to feed you as well as to have 
 you shadow me ? " 
 
 " Mon Dieu, to be sure. I am not a fish to suck 
 water, or a bird to peck leaves. How else am I to 
 eat?" 
 
 Certainly, how else if I did not provide for 
 him? It was the clearest thing in the world. 
 When we reached Stag Lodge, I therefore led him 
 into the kitchen, where Andrew gazed at him with 
 disfavor. 
 
 " What will you have to eat? " I asked dryly. 
 
 Scratching his nose and smiling, he considered. 
 
 " Consomme, a turbot, if it please you, monsieur, 
 a fillet of beef a la Creole, a salad of " 
 
 " Stop ! where did you learn all that ? " I de- 
 manded.
 
 172 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 His surprise was admirable, surprise tinged with 
 injury. 
 
 " I ? I was once a valet-de-chambre to a gentle- 
 man of Marseilles; and, if you please, a meringue 
 also, camambert " 
 
 Andrew folded his hands across his paunch in 
 strong disapproval. Then he turned and entered 
 the pantry. When he came forth, he bore a single 
 plate. 
 
 " And champagne and a liqueur," concluded Esper 
 with a smirk. 
 
 Andrew held out the dish. On it lay a crust of 
 bread and two dried herrings.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE MESSAGE 
 
 A telegram was brought to me early next morn- 
 ing. It had been dispatched the previous day by 
 Billy Harrington, announcing his anticipated ar- 
 rival on this same afternoon, and by some unex- 
 plainable burst of energy on the part of the agent 
 at the neighboring railway station had at once been 
 forwarded. I told Andrew to prepare a chamber. 
 Furthermore I stated that I would hire Antoine's 
 cart and donkey in which to meet and convey my 
 guest to Lavouche. Cart and donkey were well 
 paired. The latter might be conceived to have been 
 born between the cart-shafts, so intimately asso- 
 ciated was he with them. He was the single animal 
 in the village larger than a cat or dog, and with 
 his vehicle was the sole means by which such bales 
 and boxes as did not come by boat were brought to 
 Lavouche. Papillon, Butterfly, was the gay appel- 
 lation which his master had bestowed upon him, 
 doubtless because his ears approached the propor- 
 tions of wings. He had a round little body, a mouse- 
 colored coat, a mild eye, a philosophical disposition, 
 and ideas of his own on what constituted the neces- 
 sary rate of speed.
 
 174 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 When I had finished breakfast, I walked down 
 to the wharf for a breath of fresh air. The rogue 
 who had accompanied me about yesterday was no- 
 where to be seen; apparently he would not risk 
 what Andrew might serve him for a morning meal 
 and had gone to the village to break his fast. 
 Dangling my feet over the edge of the little wharf, 
 I smoked my pipe and observed the sea. The sun 
 was flashing brightly over the water, gulls were 
 sweeping about or floating upon the surface, sway- 
 ing now high, now low, on the undulations of the 
 swells. Off in the east there was a haze of smoke, 
 which thickened until I could make out the hull of 
 a vessel but not its lines. For half an hour it re- 
 mained apparently without movement and was still 
 in the same spot when I rose to go some yacht 
 or steamer that had, I guessed, encountered a mis- 
 hap to its machinery. A gentle breeze ruffled the 
 surface of the water from time to time. Overhead 
 thin streamers of haze drifted across the sky, 
 carrying beneath them dim shadows upon the sea. 
 After a final look I returned to the house, where 
 I took the map from the tankard and examined it 
 afresh. 
 
 Now that it had been seen by so many eyes, it had 
 acquired more interest in mine; I traced again the 
 lines and dots, analyzed anew its system of gun 
 arrangement and defense, and read once more the 
 notes upon the margin inscribed in stiff angular 
 script. Nothing about it had changed. But I
 
 THE MESSAGE 175 
 
 studied it more closely than I had ever done before, 
 with an eye for detail and for its distinguishing- 
 peculiarities. In one corner of the sheet was drawn 
 a compass to adjust the fortress relatively to points 
 of the earth, and by this indicator I perceived that 
 the major number of guns were planted in their 
 pits so as to hurl shells in a westerly direction, 
 though of course they could be swung upon their 
 pedestals to any point of the horizon. The faces 
 of the embrasures, too, indicated that in case of 
 attack it might be expected from the same point, 
 these and the general arrangements of defensive 
 galleries for machine-guns and rifles. On the right 
 was the station of the range-finders, at a superior 
 elevation and connected with the gun-pits by tele- 
 phone. Evidently the fortress crowned some height 
 that commanded a sweep of space to westward; 
 and as I considered the import of this fact my 
 opinion that it was a German military work became 
 more than ever confirmed. France lay westward 
 from Germany. 
 
 With the map spread before me I could not help 
 but let my imagination run free in conjured pic- 
 tures of that armed state of peace made significant 
 by the line which separated those two countries. 
 One summer I had wandered upon the precincts 
 of Alsace and Lorraine, where I had been impressed 
 by the silent, alert watchfulness and ever-present 
 masses of soldiers. From a distance I had seen 
 one of Germany's fortifications, yet only from a
 
 176 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 distance, as visitors were not permitted to visit it. 
 Always there was evident a feeling of uncertainty, 
 a sense of expectancy, that sometime France would 
 spring upon these forts in an endeavor to realize 
 her dream of recapturing the two provinces. 
 
 And now here before my eyes lay what France 
 would give a fortune to possess ! If ever war were 
 determined upon, she would have with it the key 
 to at least one door ; with it she could post her own 
 guns and cast her bursting shells into the pits, rush 
 the outpost by a night attack, and smash through 
 this point in the long line of steel that bristled along 
 her eastern border all the way from Belgium up 
 to the Alps. Men had given, and still would give, 
 their lives to win such information as was inscribed 
 upon this piece of paper. How many daring spies, 
 how many fearless officers, had stolen about the base 
 of these bastions or penetrated to their interior, in 
 the end to be caught, tried, and delivered to an 
 inglorious death! In that secret and vigilant game 
 which nations play beneath an outward manifesta- 
 tion of friendly good-will, there is neither pause nor 
 leniency ! Spies vanish, and the game goes on. One 
 in a dozen succeeds in small measure, one in a thou- 
 sand greatly. Had Frederick Douglass, that cool 
 and canny Scotchman, been the thousandth man? 
 Or had he, by some hook or crook, come at an 
 original map? That seemed even more impossible. 
 Two years the diagram had lain idle in my posses- 
 sion ; now, as if light and air exerted upon it some
 
 THE MESSAGE 177 
 
 subtle change and invested it with an active, malig- 
 nant character, it radiated an unnatural influence 
 and evil attraction. Baron Von Hussman desired 
 it, Seiior Del Hervalle strove for it, Lavouche quar- 
 reled over it; it threatened to turn this quiet, peace- 
 ful island into an isle of strife. Like one of those 
 jewels out of an Indian temple accursed by being 
 stolen from a sacred image, it promised to bestow 
 harm on every hand that touched it. Well, if such 
 were to be the case, I, like those daring pillagers 
 who had got their ringers on the Indian gems, would 
 hold it the tighter. 
 
 Having put away the map, I strolled out upon the 
 path which led through the wood to the road. The 
 clear fresh air full of odorous scents was like wine. 
 Over my head the boughs met in an arch, which 
 made my advance like that of walking along the 
 aisle of some Gothic cathedral; no thick tangle of 
 underbrush encumbered the prospect, only clumps 
 of bushes grew at intervals, through which one had 
 long, green mistily lighted vistas; and everywhere 
 birds twittered and sang, while lance-like lines of 
 sunshine shot downward through apertures in the 
 boughs. I startled a rabbit, which leaped a pace or 
 two, sat listening for a moment motionless as a 
 stone animal, then dove suddenly into cover. Shar- 
 ing the island with pines and hemlocks were foliaged 
 trees, here and there an oak or walnut or birch. 
 Vines of the trailing arbutus ran underfoot, while 
 withes of wild grape climbed and hung their
 
 178 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 bushy garlands on high; bluebells shook their frag- 
 ile cups in little corners; where rock cropped out, 
 moss and ferns had taken root; now and again 
 one beheld some fallen monster of a tree that had 
 lived its time and toppled over and now lay in decay, 
 the habitation of colonies of insects. On this morn- 
 ing all was life, all was brightness, all was happiness 
 in the hearts of these wood-folk. 
 
 Presently, as I came round a thicket, I perceived 
 a standing figure up the path, which I recognized 
 as that of Betty. A wide-brimmed garden hat of 
 straw was upon her head, her dress was of some 
 simple white material; in one hand she carried a 
 small basket in which were wild flowers, the other, 
 closed, was held to her cheek in thought. She did 
 not note my approach until I was before her, when 
 with a start she dropped her hand. 
 
 " Where did you come from ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Along the path, to be sure." 
 
 " I was coming to see you and yet " 
 
 "What, Betty?" 
 
 " My reason seems so silly, I stopped. I could 
 not make up my mind. I came a little way, and 
 then it appeared so ridiculous a thing to do, I halted ; 
 but the more I thought, the more anxious I grew, 
 and came on again, then once more stopped, and I 
 don't know what to think." 
 
 " Does it concern me ? " 
 
 "Yes; oh, do be careful, Charlie!" 
 
 " Come, tell me what 's the matter."
 
 THE MESSAGE 179 
 
 Her blue eyes looked into mine, her lip quivered 
 the barest thing in the world. 
 
 "If anything happened to you now." Un- 
 consciously she put out her hand as if to ward 
 off impending danger. I caught the hand in mine. 
 
 " Would you care, Betty ? " 
 
 She looked confusedly about, sought to withdraw 
 her fingers, then her eyes came back to mine. A 
 faint flush rose and faded in her cheeks. 
 
 "I I " she began at last, but did not 
 finish. 
 
 " I love you, as you know, Betty, have always 
 loved you, never will cease to love you, whatever 
 may happen to me." 
 
 For a moment she stood unmoving; and her eyes 
 widened as she conjured up vague and unknown 
 fears. Her fingers tightened on mine. Then she 
 drew them free, she dropped her basket and laid 
 her hands upon her bosom. 
 
 "If anything should happen," she said, lifting 
 her face, looking up at the wood and beyond me 
 into a distance that none but she could see, " now 
 that you have come back, now that you have come 
 when I have waited, if anything should happen " 
 
 She ceased. Her face remained upheld, pale, still 
 gazing with eyes far past me. 
 
 "You love me, Betty?" I said, low. 
 
 " It would break my heart if anything happened." 
 
 There in the wood, with the birds caroling about 
 us, dropping liquid notes of melody, pouring silver
 
 i8o THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 music among the trees with the sunshine sifting 
 in bright lines and slanting bare through the 
 branches, with all the air filled with fragrance, with 
 all the world atune in happiness, I learned that her 
 love was mine. The great joy had come. I held 
 her fast in my embrace, while our lips met. 
 
 " Tell me what it is you fear, sweetheart," I 
 said at last. 
 
 " That warning Margot has said it again, * Be- 
 ware strange doors.' Early this morning Stevens, 
 our servant, went to the village on an errand for 
 the kitchen and met her. She stopped and said, 
 ' Tell these words to Miss Moore, Beware strange 
 doors.' That was all. When Stevens asked her if 
 there was not something further, she asked to have 
 me repeat them to you. Then she went away. 
 What does it all mean? What is going to happen? 
 Are you in danger, Charlie? Is your life threat- 
 ened? Tell me." 
 
 I remained silent, for I could not tell her all I 
 knew and all I suspected. 
 
 " She is a singular woman," said I at last. " She 
 may know a little of something and her imagination 
 supply the rest." 
 
 " But Mr. Davis he too knows whatever it is, 
 he nearly told me what door was meant. If he 
 only had ! And since he knows, Senor Del Hervalle 
 must know ; are they all leagued against you ? Why 
 is it? what is it? Our little island seems to have 
 become all at once a place of mystery."
 
 THE MESSAGE 181 
 
 " All will turn out right, Betty. And for to-day 
 at least I have nothing to fear. This afternoon I '11 
 see your father and show him the map; I think 
 I '11 tell him all that has happened. Then I shall 
 go with Antoine's donkey to meet my friend who 
 is coming he will be here to help. Besides, I have 
 written to Jack Maitland and Mr. Fenton." 
 
 " They 're coming ? " 
 
 " I think they will," I answered with a smile. 
 For I could hardly imagine anything stopping them 
 when it was a question of Del Hervalle. " So you 
 see that things are not so bad, after all. When they 
 have arrived, we shall clear up the whole business 
 Senor Del Hervalle and all." 
 
 But she was yet uneasy. 
 
 " Something tells me a premonition that you 
 are in danger. And those words, those strange 
 words ! " 
 
 " I '11 look very carefully at all the doors I enter, 
 even my own." 
 
 For a time we walked forward, moving a little 
 way and halting. Her hand was in mine, her lips 
 had been lifted to mine, she had acknowledged that 
 her love was mine. What more could I ask? Con- 
 tent filled my heart and a great happiness. Of 
 danger I ceased to think, of the intrigues of Senor 
 Del Hervalle, of the malice of his secretary, of the 
 warning given by Margot, of the braggings of Pilon, 
 of the suspicions of the village. I had the love of 
 the girl who walked beside me; let the world run
 
 182 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 as it would, I was content. Stooping, I plucked a 
 sprig of arbutus, brushed it of dust, and divided 
 it. Half I gave to Betty, half I kept. It would be 
 the memento of this day, of this hour, when we 
 plighted our troth. So long as we lived we should 
 keep the halves; though they should wither, our 
 love should keep them fresh and we would treasure 
 them as most precious. Those radiant minutes were 
 all too short. Would that we could stroll on 
 through this wood, said I, until time ceased, with 
 only the trees and sunshine and ourselves! But 
 at last Betty stated that she must return. Once 
 more softly she told me she loved me, stood close 
 in my embrace, and pressed her warm lips on mine, 
 then departed. Up the path she tripped, paused to 
 waft me a kiss with her hand, and was lost to 
 sight. 
 
 How long I stood in a sort of ecstasy of delight 
 I know not. No thought ran in my mind; I re- 
 mained in a condition of rapture, knowing, feeling, 
 but not reasoning withal, that a great joy had de- 
 scended as from heaven and wrapped me round in 
 a shining garment Gradually I returned to earth. 
 I became aware of a man standing a little way off 
 by a tree. He slouched on his feet, he smiled a 
 furtive smile and scratched his nose. 
 
 " How long have you stood there ! " I roared. 
 
 " Some time, monsieur," he smirked, approaching. 
 
 "You scoundrel!" 
 
 " Yes, monsieur ! "
 
 THE MESSAGE 183 
 
 " You villain ! " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " You under-sized, crooked- faced, eaves-dropping, 
 invidious son of a degenerate cockroach ! " 
 
 " At your service, monsieur. And, monsieur ? " 
 
 "What?" I thundered. 
 
 " Will you kindly repeat that statement ? That 
 is a very fine account. I have never had the honor 
 of being addressed by that name. If monsieur will 
 repeat that admirable collection ? " And he waited, 
 pert, impudent, head cocked on one side at at- 
 tention. 
 
 "Were you there all the time?" I questioned 
 fiercely. 
 
 He looked at me with a calculating eye. 
 
 " No, monsieur, I am but just come." 
 
 " You are a rogue." 
 
 " Possibly." 
 
 " And an incorrigible scamp." 
 
 " Probably, monsieur." 
 
 Nothing could perturb such effrontery. I turned 
 on my heel and set out for home. To have this 
 fellow for a spectator of our love! It was like 
 a gutter-snipe peering through a window at one's 
 most sacred rite. I was in no mood for his brazen 
 wit, and as I strode through the wood let him follow 
 as best he might ; the jest of having him accompany 
 me about had on a sudden lost its savor. 
 
 " Pardon, monsieur, I should have arrived 
 earlier," he began politely, at my heels.
 
 184 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " You were early enough, as it was," I said 
 significantly. 
 
 " Earlier, monsieur, if I had not been delayed by 
 a little accident which occurred in the village. You 
 would not be interested in it ? " 
 
 We walked a distance. 
 
 " What accident ? " I asked. 
 
 " Oh, one of the fishermen hurt. You would not, 
 as I say, be interested. It was only that Jean " 
 
 " What, Jean ! " I stopped. 
 
 " Yes, but what matter ? Have you any more 
 of those exquisite cigarettes in your house, master? " 
 
 I caught him by the shoulder and shook him. 
 
 " Never mind about the cigarettes. Tell me of 
 Jean, and be quick ! " 
 
 His smile came and went. He changed from one 
 foot to the other and looked at the ground. 
 
 " One dollar, monsieur, if you please." 
 
 " You miserable leech," I exclaimed, shaking him 
 till he rattled, " you will get no dollar." 
 
 " But a cigarette then, is it not so ? " Even after 
 the handling I had given him he could bargain. 
 
 " Tell your news, then we shall see." 
 
 Well, it appeared that Jean and Pilon had that 
 morning got into a squabble over the subject of 
 myself and become angry. Pilon, the joker, had 
 let a boom swing on Jean as the latter stooped over 
 his boat in launching it. Pilon denied all intent to 
 commit harm, maintaining the event was an acci- 
 dent, but Jean's back was injured and his ribs
 
 THE MESSAGE 185 
 
 splintered so they stuck into his lungs like bristles 
 in a pig's back (so related Esper), and he had 
 groaned out that he wished to see me. Now, would 
 we go to my house and get cigarettes? 
 
 " Cigarettes, no. I go to Jean," I answered. 
 
 The outrage committed by Pilon made my blood 
 boil. Of all persons in Lavouche none held so great 
 a place in my affections as this boyhood friend, 
 Jean, and now he had been basely injured, perhaps 
 crippled for life, by that ruffian Pilon. How long 
 Lavouche would tolerate the latter and his com- 
 panions I did not know, but if it lay in my power 
 they should immediately be driven from the village. 
 Further, a surgeon should be sent for at once; I 
 should dispatch a messenger immediately to the 
 railway station with a telegram for one at St. John 
 or Portland. Jean injured, perhaps dying! I hur- 
 ried on up the path and into the wood, Esper patter- 
 ing behind me. While I had been so happy, my good 
 friend lay suffering. It seemed too dreadful that 
 the finest young man of them all, so tall and straight 
 and strong and honest, should be sacrificed by a 
 trick, by the treacherous blow of such a scoundrel 
 as Pilon. 
 
 When we came to the street, it was quiet, empty. 
 I knew the philosophical mind of the village in the 
 matter of receiving accidents as in accepting drown- 
 ings; such were the acts of God, they believed, 
 therefore the folk continued to fish. After carrying 
 Jean up to his house, leaving one or two persons
 
 i86 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 to render what assistance they could, and one to 
 make sail down the coast for a doctor, the rest of 
 the men would go about their regular duties of 
 beating out to the seining grounds. All was singu- 
 larly peaceful as we advanced ; old Gaspard worked 
 in his shop over a boat, with bent head; at a door 
 played two children; madame at the inn-window 
 sat with gaze apparently fixed on her moving 
 needles. 
 
 Suddenly Esper plucked me by the elbow. I 
 stopped. 
 
 " They have taken him in here. There is room 
 and a table on which he can lie while the bones are 
 picked out of his liver." 
 
 "Pilon's house?" 
 
 " To be sure. At this place he was seized with 
 great agony and could be moved no further." 
 
 Ah, that was it! A queer twist of irony, in 
 truth, that he should lie in the house of the man 
 who had wrought his hurt. 
 
 I stepped upon the doorsill. The door stood half 
 open and I could see into the room. 
 
 " Enter, monsieur, enter," said Esper, gently 
 pressing me with his hand. 
 
 The room was empty. Nowhere was there a 
 table, or men, or Jean wounded and in pain. Sur- 
 prised, I gazed at the open door it was a solid 
 door, studded with heavy nail heads as I had before 
 often noted. Flashed into my mind the warning of 
 Margot, Beware strange doors! But before I could
 
 THE MESSAGE 187 
 
 turn Esper dealt me a violent push between the shoul- 
 ders and I stumbled headlong. A blanket was cast 
 over my head. Hands seized my wrists, jerked them 
 back, while a laugh sounded in my muffled ears. 
 Then the door slammed behind me.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 BEWARE STRANGE DOORS ! 
 
 I struggled fiercely to free myself. But strong 
 hands held me and I was at a disadvantage; the 
 blanket which had been cast over my head was not 
 a fresh one, being full of dust that got into my eyes 
 and lungs and made them burn as with pepper. Still 
 the contest was not all on one side, for I fought as 
 a man fights for his life. So about the room we 
 swayed and dragged and whirled, now smack 
 against the door, now bump against the wall, now 
 thump over the table. Blindly I strove to direct 
 the fight to the window, where by hurling one or 
 another of us against the frame I should smash the 
 panes and arouse passers-by or neighbors by the 
 clatter; but I had lost all sense of direction, and 
 moreover my captors pushed my threshing body as 
 well as they were able towards the rear of the room. 
 
 Such an unequal contest could not long be main- 
 tained. Finally one assailant who had been hang- 
 ing upon my back with the tenacity and the dead 
 weight of a veritable Old Man of the Sea got his 
 arm under my chin, forced back my head, and 
 choked out of my frame both breath and resistance. 
 Then a rope was hastily wound around my body,
 
 BEWARE STRANGE DOORS! 189 
 
 a curse and a kick administered, and I was half led, 
 half dragged up the stair, along the upper floor, up 
 a second flight of steps, and into what I knew must 
 be the upper story. There I was thrust upon a stool. 
 All the while I kept silent; indeed, it was only by 
 an effort that I could gain my breath and keep from 
 stifling in the foul folds of the blanket. Afterwards, 
 while I was held in a rigid position, the rope was 
 readjusted so as to bind me to my seat, then the 
 blanket was jerked off my head. 
 
 Pilon and Esper and Descarte stood before me, 
 disheveled, sweating, and still breathing heavily 
 from their exertions. A deep scratch furrowed 
 one of Descarte's cheeks where I had shut my hand 
 on it and worked minor damages; he wiped the 
 dripping blood with a rag, shooting wicked glances 
 my way and muttering to himself. Esper wore his 
 furtive, flickering smile and showed least effect of 
 the contest, for he it was who had hung on my back 
 and thus remained out of the chief current of the 
 struggle. The leader, Pilon, stood in front; he 
 rested his hands on his hips, panting and for the 
 moment beyond speech. 
 
 " Mon Dieu! That was a merry dance," Esper 
 remarked airily. " My compliments, comrade, but 
 it was hopeless, eh? You should have taken the 
 matter calmly. Observe, you do not look exactly 
 like a gentleman now." 
 
 I dare say I must have looked a ruffian. Per- 
 spiration streamed down my face, washing rivulets
 
 I 9 o THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 through the dust on my cheeks ; my hair stood every 
 way, and my clothes were in a state of high dis- 
 order collar rumpled, tie gone, coat ripped; but 
 I had the satisfaction of perceiving that while I 
 had suffered in appearances Pilon and Descarte had 
 also paid good toll. 
 
 This was small comfort however. I was a pris- 
 oner beware of strange doors indeed! I had 
 walked neatly into the trap which had been set 
 for me, come like a bird to the snare. Of all doors 
 in Lavouche to hold danger for me, there was none 
 save this of Pilon's house; I should have known 
 that. And Del Hervalle's plot was forward at last. 
 Where I might be on the morrow was a thought 
 from which I shrank; I was in the power of my 
 enemies my life was in jeopardy. 
 
 I looked about my prison. The room was, as I 
 have stated, the third and uppermost story of the 
 house, indeed a sort of attic. High at the peak, 
 the sloping sides of the roof descended to within 
 two feet of the floor before joining the walls; a 
 decrepit and weather-worn roof, of which the beams 
 had fallen into decay and sagged inward; holes 
 were in it, and here and there I could see bits of the 
 outside sunlight, while shining patches and bars 
 dropped downward like yellow lances into the dusty 
 interior. In the slope of roof which faced towards 
 the street there were two dormer windows, but these 
 had been roughly boarded up to the level of a man's 
 eyes, evidently in preparation for my occupancy,
 
 BEWARE STRANGE DOORS! 191 
 
 and in consequence the light throughout the room 
 was dim. A stone chimney ran up one wall; for 
 furniture there were a couple of stools, besides 
 mine, and in one corner a musty pallet which appar- 
 ently had lain there a long time. Not a cheerful 
 room. 
 
 Pilon moved towards the door. 
 
 " Come, we will go," he said. " This job is 
 finished." 
 
 But Esper halted him. 
 
 "Are not our throats dusty?" he asked. "Are 
 they not dry as Sahara? Since I attached myself 
 to the person of Monsieur Woodworth I have dis- 
 covered him to be a thoughtful and generous patron. 
 Would it not be well to drink a cup of wine to his 
 good health?" 
 
 He looked slyly at his leader, who burst into 
 laughter and turned about. 
 
 " Thou weasel ! Make speed and search him." 
 
 With a request for my pardon and again a double 
 pardon Esper tapped my pockets and introduced his 
 fingers into their interior with all the deftness of a 
 pickpocket, in which capacity he had evidently long 
 before made himself proficient. Little reward for 
 him, a dollar or two, a few quarters; there was 
 seldom occasion in Lavouche to carry any con- 
 siderable amount of money. He sucked his lips 
 in disappointment. 
 
 " And after the service I rendered you, mon- 
 sieur ? " he reproached.
 
 !I92 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " Fetch it, it is enough," Pilon said. 
 
 Esper ran his eyes over me. He had an inspira- 
 tion. A small gold chain, now hanging broken from 
 my waistcoat pocket, attracted his favor and aroused 
 his avarice. 
 
 " Ah, this I will keep to remember our pleasant 
 acquaintance," remarked he, extracting my watch. 
 
 It was a good watch, indeed a valuable watch, 
 which I had purchased in Switzerland, a perfect 
 time-keeper, slim and light and with my monogram 
 in jewels upon the back. 
 
 A great joy lighted Esper's face. " Oh, so kind 
 a monsieur ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 Pilon thrust out his hand gluttonously. " Give 
 it here, quick ! " 
 
 Esper drew back, clutching his spoil. An evil, 
 desperate rage distorted his face; he spat out a 
 stream of foul biting curses. Pilon advanced a 
 step, lifting his heavy fist, while Descarte, who all 
 the while had been busying himself staunching his 
 wound and leaving conversation to the others, 
 dropped his rag and joined the leader. 
 
 " It is as monsieur said," my erstwhile little body- 
 guard snapped, " you drink all the cream. See, I 
 found it ; I will keep it." 
 
 Descarte spoke. " What one finds, all find. We 
 will sell it and divide." 
 
 " Yes, we will divide," Pilon added. 
 
 But Esper had the watch in his hand, his 
 rat-like eyes darted from one to the other of the
 
 BEWARE STRANGE DOORS! 193 
 
 men, his long sharp nose was twisted more than 
 ever on one side in access of spite. He did not 
 answer. 
 
 " Thou pig, give it to Pilon," Descarte said 
 harshly. 
 
 He was not a pleasant man to look at, this 
 Descarte, sullen, brutal; he had none of diminutive 
 Esper's redeeming wit or Pilon's braggadocio. A 
 black close-cropped beard covered his face; he was 
 swarthy, slow, savage, and wore a brass ring in his 
 left ear. The pair of them crowded in on their 
 small mate as they talked, forcing him to give way 
 before their advance; there was a method in their 
 movements as well as in their argument. I saw 
 them exchange a rapid glance of understanding, of 
 agreement, and they pressed him step by step until 
 he stood with his back against the wall in the corner 
 by the chimney. 
 
 " We will divide, Esper," Pilon repeated. 
 
 For answer Esper produced a knife and held it 
 ready. Calmly the two before him likewise drew 
 weapons. The little man waited with twitching 
 face, his old smile coming and going upon his lips ; 
 he was outnumbered and they had harried him into 
 the angle as dogs harry a cat. Nothing was spoken. 
 The old room under the sagging roof seemed filled 
 with a sudden hush. Then the imminent tragedy 
 evaporated as mist does on sea. Esper put away his 
 knife; Pilon and Descarte slipped theirs out of 
 sight.
 
 194 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " We shall divide," said Esper quietly, and he 
 handed the watch to Pi Ion. 
 
 The latter looked at Descarte, smiling; Descarte 
 grinned back at Pilon in return. A flash of fury 
 for an instant lighted their victim's face as he per- 
 ceived the exchange, then it was gone and he ap- 
 peared impassive. 
 
 " Bravo, my little Esper," Pilon said, dropping 
 the watch into his pocket and patting the little man 
 upon the shoulder. " Thou art as generous of milk 
 as a fat wench," with which Rabelaisian jest he 
 again patted Esper. " We will divide and mean- 
 while drink a glass of cognac." He strode to me. 
 " Ho, is a son of a dog to look on with eyes open 
 at our little family matters? Shut them hereafter, 
 thou ! " And he dealt me a blow upon the side of 
 the head that made my cranium ache. 
 
 And the three of them went out of the room, 
 locking the door after them. 
 
 I now had full leisure for meditation. The peril 
 in which I stood for peril it was, though I was 
 left to guess what particular form it would later 
 assume was too plain to be ignored. To cajole 
 myself with false hopes, to say that my captors dare 
 not do me bodily injury, that they must eventually 
 set me free, would have been the height of stupidity. 
 What if this were simple Lavouche ! What if it 
 were on the civilized coast of Maine ! Is crime less 
 frequent to-day than yesterday, or does it choose 
 the spot ? Del Hervalle would no more take account
 
 BEWARE STRANGE DOORS! 195 
 
 of the village Lavouche than he would of a passing 
 cloud; if he had determined to put me out of the 
 way, he would do so here with as little impunity 
 as he would in the heart of a desert. 
 
 What a cold-blooded, determined, complacent vil- 
 lain he was! Remorse he had none, conscience he 
 had none; but all the qualities of subtlety, persist- 
 ence, patience, coolness, cunning, expedience, re- 
 sourcefulness, ingenuity, and daring all these he 
 had in abundance. Could a person have spread 
 open the book of his life and turned it leaf by leaf, 
 scanned it page by page, marked each dark para- 
 graph, what a record of crime it would have made! 
 Even the small knowledge which I had of him 
 showed the man always to be dealing in evil. At 
 Forge he had flitted about like a vampire, carrying 
 death; in Venezuela who could tell what sins were 
 his; and now here on the coast of Maine he had 
 turned this quiet little isle into an island of con- 
 tention. Blood had always marked his footsteps 
 would he depart leaving this island rock thus simi- 
 larly stained? Del Hervalle D'Urville who- 
 ever he rightfully was, would Heaven allow him 
 to perpetrate yet another infamous deed and to go 
 his way undiscovered and unpunished? I began to 
 think so. More, I began to think that apparently 
 I was to afford him the opportunity of keeping his 
 hand in practice while on his holiday. 
 
 Escape from the attic seemed out of the ques- 
 tion. The rope with which I was bound was of
 
 196 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 stout manila, weathered and brine-soaked; its 
 makers would have been astonished, no doubt, had 
 they known to what use it was being put. It was 
 wrapped about me in a score of turns, binding my 
 arms firm against my sides and my legs to the 
 rounds of the chair; but even if I had been free 
 I would still have found it difficult to make my way 
 out of the house. The door was without panels, 
 constructed of oak boards running straight up and 
 down in a plain, stout, good old-fashioned way. To 
 be sure, I might have forced a passage through a 
 window, or by several lusty kicks burst a hole 
 through the roof, but in either case it would have 
 been to coast over the eave to a drop upon the pave- 
 ment below. And Senor Del Hervalle would have 
 raised no objection to that. 
 
 Of these things I thought and of many others 
 during the subsequent hours. My arms ached from 
 their cinctures and my spine from its rigid position, 
 while my mind grew weary. A dim room and a 
 blank wall, a tottery roof and two squat stools for 
 companions, may be interesting under certain cir- 
 cumstances or for a limited period of time I had 
 in addition the prospect of a near and exciting de- 
 mise; but of the former I quickly tired, and even 
 of speculating upon what form or at what time or 
 in what particular place and with what interesting 
 sufferings death may be accompanied, one may be- 
 come bored. 
 
 Pilon it was who finally unlocked the door. He
 
 BEWARE STRANGE DOORS! 197 
 
 had been drinking much of madame's brandy pur- 
 chased with my money, and was not inclined, also 
 at my expense, to be merry. 
 
 " Aha, monsieur, what a pity that you cannot 
 go and paint again the little boat ! " he cried, throw- 
 ing himself upon a stool. " You 're not so busy 
 to-day and you now have time to listen to Pilon." 
 
 " Have you wrung the water out of your clothes 
 yet ? " I inquired politely. 
 
 He gave an upward flirt of his moustache. 
 
 " They are much drier, even without wringing, 
 than yours will be presently, my little man. You 
 are fresh, too fresh, for a mackerel who has been 
 nicely haled in the net. Therefore I have been con- 
 sidering while I sat over my petit cognac, con- 
 sidering how Pilon might remove the freshness." 
 He fixed his bloodshot eyes upon me with an air 
 of wisdom. " What is it we fishermen do with 
 the mackerel we catch, the nice fat mackerel that 
 we want to keep? Lavouche is famous for its 
 mackerel, and therefore when we have the most 
 famous fresh mackerel of all we must be very care- 
 ful to keep him from spoiling. Answer Pilon, little 
 man, and tell him what it is the fishermen do ? " As 
 I made no reply, he continued, lifting one hand and 
 spreading his sunburnt fingers : " First, they take 
 the fish and hold it so, between thumb and finger, 
 under the gills, yes. Then they take a sharp knife 
 and with a single stroke they slit the belly and 
 clean it, behold, quickly as fishermen know how
 
 198 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 Oh, Sacre Dieu, what a jest it is, this for Pilon ! " 
 He leaned back, roaring with laughter. " And then 
 they put the good fish in brine to keep, if necessary 
 for many years." 
 
 " Is that intended as a parable ? " I asked. 
 
 He paused, surprised. " That parable, what is 
 that, monsieur ? " 
 
 " A story intended to point a moral.'* 
 
 A smile of understanding broke over his face. 
 
 " You are an intelligent mackerel," said he. 
 
 " And when will this event occur ? " 
 
 " We shall have the honor of conducting you into 
 pickle to-night." 
 
 " Sefior Del Hervalle will leave it in your hands, 
 I presume ? " 
 
 His brows went up with a simulated air of not 
 catching my meaning. 
 
 "Sefior Del Hervalle?" 
 
 " The little gentleman who called on you a couple 
 of days ago." 
 
 " Sefior Del Hervalle a visit here, how droll ! " 
 
 " Very," said I dryly. 
 
 " Pilon will do what is necessary," said he. 
 
 There was little to expect from him in the way 
 of mercy. Now if it had been Esper! For Esper 
 was a fellow who had a proper understanding of the 
 value of money, as I had discovered. Pilon, on the 
 contrary, while avaricious was vain, and in this par- 
 ticular business he fed his vanity by believing him- 
 self my master. Moreover he hated me; the desire
 
 BEWARE STRANGE DOORS! 199 
 
 for revenge for the insult I had heaped on him 
 was strong; added to this was a natural strain of 
 brutality, a love of cruelty; and altogether I had 
 not much of compassion to hope for from the man. 
 
 Presently he resumed his satirical monologue. 
 It was very unfortunate, very unfortunate, he ex- 
 plained, that I could have no dinner, neither supper, 
 for fasting is necessary to prepare the spirit for its 
 long journey to Heaven. Did not priests and monks 
 fast even once a week for the benefit of their souls ? 
 And they did not grow thin, not they, they were as 
 fat as capons ; it was desirable that I should imitate 
 the priests; and with an irreverent leer he rose to 
 his feet. He however must eat, he and Descarte 
 and Esper, for though they were not going on any. 
 journey except a little way out to sea that night 
 and afterwards back to Lavouche, nevertheless since 
 that was a journey on this earth and not to Heaven 
 food was needed for their insides as fuel is needed 
 for engines or wind for sails. 
 
 So saying, he stretched his arms above his head 
 and yawned. Then he approached to examine my 
 bonds. 
 
 " Be not too lively, my mackerel, while Pilon is 
 gone," he said, giving me a playful cuff. 
 
 When he had departed, I digested, in lieu of 
 dinner, the information which he had conveyed. 
 I did not like the nature of the food; it had a bad 
 taste, and as I recalled his vivid description of the 
 fishermen preparing a mackerel for brine a shiver
 
 200 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 ran over me. To be trussed up in this fashion by 
 a set of scoundrels, to be carried out to sea, to have 
 my throat cut and be dumped into the ocean I 
 raged at my impotence. Let me have but a knife or 
 a club or even but my bare fists and let me stand 
 free ! I then should die as a man should die, resist- 
 ing his enemies. But to go out of the world in 
 this fashion! 
 
 Night it was now only noon. Twelve hours! 
 Was it meant, after all, that with all the strength 
 and brains God had given me I was to sit here 
 helpless twelve hours? By Heaven, I would burst 
 the rope but what I should be free ! I sprang to my 
 feet. Next instant I found myself sprawling on my 
 side, the chair atop of me ; for ropes are not broken 
 by exclamations. I had forgotten that the rope held 
 my legs to those of the chair, and my convulsive 
 leap precipitated me headlong upon the floor. Thus 
 does best endeavor come often to a ridiculous posi- 
 tion. Gradually I wormed my legs downward until 
 my bonds gathered about my knees, and rising I 
 was able, still bearing my burden of a chair with 
 me, to move forward after a fashion. 
 
 Pilon might be a braggart, but he could tie devil- 
 ishly secure knots.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 WHAT MAY BE SEEN FROM A WINDOW 
 
 By standing on tiptoe at one or the other of the 
 two windows I could see over the topmost of the 
 boards nailed across the embrasures and look down 
 upon the street. About eighteen inches of the panes 
 remained unsheathed to allow light to penetrate to 
 the interior, but the glass was dusty and through it 
 objects appeared shadowed and dim. Moreover it 
 is not an easy matter long to maintain a position on 
 the tips of your toes while your hands are bound to 
 your sides and a chair is hung like a rudder at your 
 back; it would require the skill of an acrobat and 
 the endurance of a Chinese burden-bearer. The 
 opacity of the window-pane I somewhat lessened 
 by using the point of my nose ; to be sure, my nose 
 must have suffered in appearance, but the glass as a 
 medium of vision was improved. In the window 
 lay, I felt, my salvation, if there were to be any. 
 Some passer-by would glance up and see me was 
 my first wild hope, but on reflection the odds against 
 this weighed me with despair, for no one would 
 be able to do so through the dirt and cobwebs. 
 
 I had intermittent views of the opposite house and 
 a portion of the street, views measured by the
 
 202 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 length of time I could sustain myself in the delicate 
 position demanded. Lavouche is not a bustling vil- 
 lage ; in fact, it is during the middle of the day not- 
 ably quiet ; and for the most part I had the opposite 
 dwelling, whose dormer window stared steadfastly 
 at me, as my sole reward. 
 
 It was the sound of the key turning in the lock 
 that brought me back with a start. Hurriedly I 
 moved a few steps from the window, for I would 
 not have them suspect my occupation. 
 
 Sefior Del Hervalle entered and came forward. 
 
 " And now for a little conversation, monsieur," 
 he said without preliminaries. 
 
 " At your service," I answered ironically. 
 
 " I wish to discuss the subject of the map." He 
 moved briskly across the room and brought for- 
 ward a stool I had already assumed my sitting 
 position without volition. " We have had a differ- 
 ence of opinion, Monsieur Woodworth, as to the 
 ownership of this document. You are a young man 
 of intelligence; it should not be necessary to point 
 out to you that my equity in the same was prior 
 to any which you may have acquired." 
 
 " Because of partnership with Frederick Doug- 
 lass ? " I scoffed. 
 
 "Said I not that you had intelligence? It's 
 not necessary for us to go into the circumstances 
 surrounding the manner in which that chart came 
 into your possession. Enough that we both know 
 them. You have no title to it."
 
 SEEN FROM A WINDOW 203 
 
 " When did you become so particular as to titles, 
 Monsieur D'Urville ? " I asked. " So far as I could 
 ever infer from your conduct, possession was the 
 only title you recognized." 
 
 He smiled, spread the tails of his frock coat 
 carefully over his knees, while he rested his silk hat 
 upon his lap. What light there was shone full upon 
 his face and gave me a full view of his features. 
 As ever, they were placid; his little eyes twinkled 
 brightly, his round forehead running into the bald- 
 ness of his head was smooth and unfurrowed by 
 any lines of anxiety ; his beard black and shiny 
 as was his moustache that was waxed to needle 
 points had been newly and closely cropped to its 
 point on the chin. 
 
 " Come, monsieur, we '11 put aside merely pleasant 
 conversation and talk plain business," said he. 
 
 " Sefior, you have me at a disadvantage. I 'm 
 perhaps intelligent as you say, but this rope stops 
 the circulation in my limbs and dulls my brain. 
 To talk business one should have a clear mind; 
 loosen the rope and you will perceive an astonishing 
 brilliancy in my ideas." 
 
 The complacent smile grew upon his face. 
 
 " Ah, but no, my Charles. I fear the brilliancy 
 would extend to acts." 
 
 " Well, what do you want ? " I asked shortly. 
 
 " The map, mon ami." 
 
 " Get it, then." 
 
 " That I will do if I must. But let us see if
 
 204 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 there be not a pleasanter way. As you know, I am 
 about to bid my good friends at Moore House fare- 
 well the day after to-morrow or the day following 
 that. Let us part in good will, you and I. Give me 
 the map in which you have no interest, knowing not 
 even the name of the fortress or in what country it 
 is situated, and agree to say nothing of it or of 
 this affair or of a certain Monsieur D'Urville, and 
 all will be arranged agreeably between us. Good 
 Pilon will row you upon the water to fish a day or 
 two until I have departed. Thus you will amuse 
 yourself and this matter will be settled." 
 
 "And would I return to Lavouche?" 
 
 He spread his hands wide in an expressive 
 gesture. 
 
 "But why not, Charles?" 
 
 " Yes, why not? Pilon has a knife, and so have 
 Descarte and Esper knives. Sefior, it would be very 
 easy to speak a little word in Pilon's round ear, and 
 then plump! Charles would dive to the bottom 
 like a fish. Indeed, my dear Sefior Del Hervalle 
 D'Urville, I 'm laboring under the delusion that the 
 word is already spoken." 
 
 Drawing forth a case, he removed two cigarettes, 
 placed one to my lips and lighted it, and then served 
 himself. In little attentions the Sefior was all that 
 could be desired; it was only in larger ones that 
 his zeal might prove fatal. 
 
 " To be frank with you, my good Charles," he 
 said a little sadly, " I fear the word has been spoken
 
 SEEN FROM A WINDOW 205 
 
 to Pilon, and Pilon is a ready fellow. For some 
 hundred dollars he will do much; indeed, for that 
 sum he would eat his soul if he could find it." 
 
 " A hundred dollars, cheap enough." 
 
 "Is it not?" 
 
 " Still you might have saved the money," I said. 
 " You are very skillful as a murderer yourself, 
 Sefior. I recall Forge, for instance." 
 
 He puffed his cigarette critically. 
 
 " Not particularly skillful, those executions, but 
 necessary. Besides, to-day it is different. Behold, 
 I am an envoy, a man of position." 
 
 Well, there was something to be said for that; 
 an envoy and particular friend of a president, even 
 of President Castro, has, I suppose, certain pro- 
 prieties to observe. It would not look well to en- 
 gage in murder ; envoys and other public men must 
 depend much upon favorable impressions, and ex- 
 ception might be taken by sensitive persons to blood 
 on the official frock. I recognized his position and 
 the obligations it carried; I went farther and re- 
 marked that I was charmed by his consideration. 
 
 But said I, " I can't see my way clear to deliver 
 the map." 
 
 " It 's not the map so much," he replied frankly, 
 "but it is yourself, my friend, that concerns me 
 and makes this step imperative. Perceive, I am the 
 intimate of Castro, I 'm the friend of Monsieur 
 Moore, I have a future which has only begun. Do 
 you think that I care for Venezuela? Bah! it is a
 
 2o6 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 dungheap of peons. I now have wealth; brains I 
 have always had. A year more to consummate my 
 plans, and then I shall return to France, and there, 
 no longer D'Urville, no longer Del Hervalle, but " 
 
 he dramatically tapped his breast " my real 
 self, I shall become famous. What will money not 
 accomplish? What will brains not contrive? Ten 
 years five and you will behold me rule France 
 
 rule Europe ! " 
 
 He stopped, staring past me into an unknown and 
 unimagined world. Not cunning schemes were the 
 sole food of his mind; like other human beings, he 
 had dreams of fame and greatness. The impene- 
 trable mask in which he wrapped himself had been 
 dropped for a moment and I had been allowed to 
 see his audacious soul. He would mount to the 
 top of a great people, he would set his hand on 
 the destinies of nations. What a dream! How 
 petty seemed the strivings of his former partner 
 in crime, Douglass! How insignificant were Forge 
 and Lavouche before the face of such an ambition ! 
 And I, Charles Wood worth, had pitted myself 
 against that seething brain and vast ambition! I 
 had thought he sought a map, when he burned for 
 an empire! 
 
 He flung away his cigarette. 
 
 " I fear you '11 see nothing of reason," he con- 
 tinued. " You are one of the blocks, one of the 
 little things, I must kick out of my way; you 
 chanced to be the fool who stumbled into Forge and
 
 SEEN FROM A WINDOW 207 
 
 saw me there. Therefore I must remove you. 
 You '11 not give me the map very well. I will 
 see if I cannot persuade your servant to hand it 
 to me before I leave Lavouche. It is not necessary 
 to my plans, but it will be useful." He arose and 
 shook out his coat-tails. " I leave you to your re- 
 flections. By reflection one gains wisdom and some- 
 times consolation. The latter I especially recom- 
 mend to you now. Until this evening then, my dear 
 Charles." With which farewell he went briskly out. 
 
 The personality of the man remained with me, 
 seemed still to fill the spaces of the room. I had 
 sat with a great man, though a ruthless. Memory 
 of his little figure was forgotten; there remained 
 but the boundless scope of his conception. As I 
 looked around me, however, at the walls and roof 
 and floor, common sense reasserted itself. Five 
 hundred years earlier he could have triumphed ; for 
 his was the mind of a Mazarin, of a Machiavelli. 
 But crimes were not the rungs by which men rose 
 to power in this day and age of the world. 
 
 And what of Charles Wood worth, the little block 
 he was about to kick out of the way? That, after 
 all, was the important matter to me, not fame and 
 empires. The afternoon was waning it was now 
 near six. If I were to do anything 1 to save myself 
 from ending my career in the manner of the mack- 
 erel which Pilon had taken pains to describe, I had 
 best be at it. I glanced about the room; my eyes 
 fell on one of the stools. With it I could stand
 
 208 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 full above the board that barred the lower part of 
 the window; but to what purpose, unless to save 
 toes? Suddenly inspiration fell upon me like a 
 white light; should mere glass stand between me 
 and a shout for help? Quickly I rose, went to a 
 stool and began to kick it along the floor. It tum- 
 bled and rolled, but I knocked it forward until it 
 stopped under the window, where I painfully bent 
 over and set it right, after which I mounted. The 
 window was composed of six panes; the space be- 
 tween the edge of the board and the top of the 
 frame was some twelve inches. Between these I 
 inserted my head, crown against one of the panes, 
 and pushed. Snap went the glass, whereupon in 
 rushed a gust of fresh air and I heard the smash 
 on the pavement below. The street was empty, no 
 one was in sight. Wait until a man shows up, said 
 I to myself, then I shall use the voice God has 
 given me! 
 
 Such are the vain imaginings of men. I did not 
 shout when the first man appeared, nor when the 
 second came into view, nay, not even when marched 
 forth a third. For of all the hundred-odd moving, 
 breathing human beings who might have opened a 
 door and walked out, it had to be my three atrocious 
 scoundrels, Pilon and Descarte and Esper. They 
 stepped from the inn and advanced to the door of 
 their own dwelling. Would they see the glass which 
 sprinkled the pavement? Did they do so, would 
 they ascribe to it any connection with the prisoner
 
 SEEN FROM A WINDOW 209 
 
 whom they had locked in the attic above? At the 
 door they paused. 
 
 Pilon sniffed the air. 
 
 " There is fog coming or rain," he said. 
 " That is good. We '11 not have so far to go out 
 upon the water." 
 
 " We will tie a stone to his feet," Descarte 
 remarked. 
 
 " No, that is not well. Let the current carry 
 him," Pilon answered. Esper did not join in the 
 talk. Perhaps he was thinking of the watch with 
 the flashing jewels embedded in its case. 
 
 Would they never go in? With my head half 
 out the window I hung over them in a spell of 
 terrible fascination, suffering all the agony of a 
 gambler who has staked his last handful of gold 
 coins in a final desperate coup and watches the little 
 marble spin about the wheel before his eyes. God 
 knows it was my final coup! If the fragments of 
 glass were discovered, or if the trio ascended and 
 entered my attic before any other man stood in the 
 street, I would never find the chance to shout an 
 alarm. They smoked and loafed and dawdled ; they 
 discussed the disposal of my person as indifferently 
 as if I had been a lump of carrion. 
 
 " O, la ! " yawned Pilon. " We should be back 
 by midnight." And he refilled his pipe. 
 
 " Unless these pigs of fishermen go to bed late or 
 we have to row far," Descarte growled. " What 
 about some brandy ? "
 
 210 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " We '11 carry a flask to keep us warm." 
 
 " Good." 
 
 In the intensity of excitement that prevailed over 
 me I had now got my head wholly out of the hole 
 in the window. So invisible was all Lavouche, 
 with the exception of my three jailers, that it might 
 have been a village of the dead and even these 
 three were discussing death. Yet it was the most 
 natural thing in the world, for it was supper-time; 
 smoke drifted from chimneys and I could smell fish 
 and onions frying. But to my imagination, in- 
 flamed by the prospect of being kept captive, by the 
 possible discovery and estoppel of my one means 
 of communication, and the eventual dismissal of my 
 person into the sea, there seemed in the fact of the 
 street's emptiness a conspiracy of evil powers. 
 
 The men continued to talk and idle and breathe 
 the evening. Esper joined the conversation. 
 
 " This fellow now, we should keep him a week 
 and squeeze him dry," he said, rubbing his long 
 nose. " There 's money to be wrung out of his 
 clothes." 
 
 Pilon twirled his moustache. " Explain the joke, 
 my little Esper." 
 
 " He is an orange. Yesterday he gave up three 
 drops of juice for a single question three dollars. 
 He is too rich to dump all at once into the gutter." 
 
 " Rogue, and you kept them ? " Pilon shouted. 
 "Without dividing?" 
 
 " Nay, I kept not the dollars, I spent them."
 
 211 
 
 " Worse, thou son of a dog of a cow ! Pilon 
 will remember." 
 
 Esper shrugged his shoulders. " Thou wouldst 
 have a long memory, then, if thou remembered all 
 the dollars thou thyself hast spent and not divided." 
 
 How further their dispute ran I do not know. 
 A figure had appeared at the lower end of the 
 street, a man carrying a hand-bag, who stopped and 
 looked one way and then another hesitating, who 
 seemed doubtful. Something familiar about him 
 made me lick my lips with expectation. Let him 
 turn up the street and I was saved, whoever he 
 might be. 
 
 He remained between two minds, and while he 
 decided I ceased to breathe. Then suddenly he faced 
 towards the village and came on. Now let my three 
 murderers talk and idle and enjoy the air! I looked 
 down upon them grimly, as I verily believed a 
 Higher Eye than mine was gazing down ; Pilon was 
 talking, Descarte was listening, but Esper, hands 
 in trousers pockets, was casting a bored and random 
 glance over the pavement. He moved a step and 
 bent over. 
 
 " Hola, who has been flinging windows about ! " 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 A horrible fear and dreadful rage swelled in my 
 heart. Esper Esper to whom I had given three 
 dollars was to rob me of my last hope of rescue 
 and life. The unknown man was too far away 
 to be of use, but he was coming steadily. I recog-
 
 212 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 nized him, Billy Harrington, coming like a cham- 
 pion to the lists, though he knew it not ! 
 
 " Glass comes from a window, a window from a 
 house," said Esper sagely. 
 
 He examined the first story, likewise did Pilon 
 and Descarte; he examined the windows of the 
 second, their eyes were lifted with his. Death 
 seemed already to be stretching out its hand and 
 touching me, for my body was numbed with a sort 
 of ante-rigor mortis; only my eyes were capable 
 of sensible movement, and they gazed down in a 
 horrible ecstasy of expectation. And then three 
 other pairs of eyes rose and met mine. What sort 
 of a face they saw, I do not know; with hair dis- 
 heveled, skin begrimed, cheek besmeared with blood 
 from a glass cut on my temple, I can only imagine 
 it must have been something grotesque, as are those 
 of gargoyles on cathedrals of a French town. For 
 the three men stared upward in blank amazement. 
 
 Then Pilon exploded with a curse. He sprang to 
 the door and vanished within; Descarte hung for a 
 moment in bewilderment, but followed; I knew 
 they were hurling themselves up the stairs. Esper 
 alone remained. He set his hands on his hips, head 
 back, and surveyed me with his twitching smile. 
 
 " Is it you then, Monsieur Orange ? " he said. 
 " Come, this is droll." 
 
 Droll it might have been to him, to me it was 
 desperate. I burst into a shout. 
 
 " Billy Billy Harrington ! "
 
 SEEN FROM A WINDOW 213 
 
 He stopped like a shot at hearing his name. Fifty 
 feet away, it seemed to him to come from anywhere 
 my disembodied voice, as he afterwards related, 
 falling from anywhere. Behind me the door was 
 thrown open, the room filled with the sound of 
 pounding feet. I uttered a final yell to Billy, a yell 
 for help, a cry full of demand, of compelling ur- 
 gency, of fierce despair. Then hands seized me, 
 my head was wrenched back into the room, my 
 body jerked off the stool, and amid curses and 
 savage imprecations I was hauled to the opposite 
 end of the attic, where my captors thrust me down 
 in my seat against the wall. Pilon, breathing hard 
 from his race up two flights of stairs, towered over 
 me like a bull. 
 
 " Imbecile, you would rob us of the money we 
 strive to earn ? " he shouted at me angrily. 
 
 I had flung dice and lost ; I had done my best, but 
 Fate was too strong for me. Billy too had done the 
 best he could on such short notice. He had looked 
 about in every direction save the right one; how 
 could he be expected in a strange village to turn on 
 the instant to a remote and disreputable head stick- 
 ing out of a third-story attic window? It was 
 destiny that held me here, not Pilon. My bitter 
 disappointment ceased and fatalism succeeded. A 
 sardonic merriment filled my heart. 
 
 " Can't a hungry man call for his supper ? " I 
 asked.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 ONE WAY TO ENGAGE A VALET 
 
 Thereafter I had a guard. While Pilon and Esper 
 went down into the inn for their supper, Descarte 
 remained, a man who by nature was surly, sullen, 
 silent, lowering, and begrimed. He sat on a stool in 
 the middle of the room, smoking a short, black clay 
 pipe and between puffs spat on the floor. Now and 
 again he would turn his eyes on me indifferently; 
 and the only emotion he displayed was towards the 
 last, when he was overtaken by impatience to have 
 his supper. Growling and muttering through his 
 beard, he heaped imprecations upon Esper, who was 
 to relieve him. Half-past seven had however passed 
 before the latter came; Descarte, shoving his pipe 
 into a jacket pocket, disappeared without a word. 
 
 Esper was one of those alert little fellows to whom 
 talk was as essential as food or air; so, drawing 
 forward the stool which his mate had just relin- 
 quished, he proceeded to engage in conversation. 
 
 " That was a good trick, that, eh ? " he remarked, 
 nodding backward over his shoulder. " You nearly 
 sewed up the sow's ear that time, monsieur, and your 
 little servant Esper found it necessary to invent a 
 tale for the stranger who wished to know who was
 
 ONE WAY TO ENGAGE A VALET 215 
 
 calling his name along the street. A very imperti- 
 nent gentleman, that, even to the shaking of my 
 shoulder. But the noise was only made by the 
 drunken dog of a Pilon, I explained, bellowing in 
 his drunkenness. Hcin, the stranger departed not 
 well satisfied and without giving a pourboire for 
 the information. Not a jolly, liberal gentleman like 
 you, my master." And he grinned facetiously. 
 
 " My liberality is about to be cut off," I returned. 
 
 " That is true." He became thoughtful. 
 
 :< You might have squeezed many a dollar out of 
 me, you little rogue." 
 
 " Ah, yes." He grew even more thoughtful. 
 
 " We could have had pleasant days together, you 
 and I, Esper ? " 
 
 " It is that Pilon, mon Dieu, who would throw 
 away the orange ? " he remarked in an impatient 
 tone. 
 
 Of the three scoundrels who were my keepers it 
 was easy to perceive that Esper had the brains. 
 That I was to be dumped into the sea without being 
 drained of more money vexed him, that was plain ; 
 it was folly thus to cast a pleasant source of revenue 
 away; perhaps for a week, two weeks, I might ac- 
 cording to his calculations have been played upon 
 to yield up some dollars each day. How much more 
 sensible! I put his own thoughts to him and in- 
 quired if it were not so. 
 
 " But yes," he said shortly. 
 
 " Well, Pilon is probably satisfied with the gain
 
 216 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 of my watch/' I continued. " It will bring him con- 
 siderable money, furnish him with more than one 
 keg of brandy." 
 
 The flickering smile came and went over his face, 
 but his eyes were angry. He knew and I knew that 
 he should share in none of the proceeds, though 
 Pilon might condescend to dole Descarte a recom- 
 pense for his loyalty and assistance. 
 
 " Pilon cries loudly to divide," I said. " Does 
 he ever divide when he finds an orange ? " 
 
 " He would divide a dead herring, no more." 
 
 " That watch was worth a good bit of money." 
 He looked up with interest. " How much do you 
 think, Esper?" 
 
 He considered. 
 
 " Fifty dollars possibly seventy-five." 
 
 " You had but a glance before Pilon shut his 
 fingers on it. Your figure is low." 
 
 "If it is not impolite to make inquiry, monsieur, 
 what was the cost of the instrument ? " 
 
 " Five hundred dollars." 
 
 The furtive smile froze on his lips. For a minute 
 he sat immovable, one corner of his mouth higher 
 than the other, his nose twisted around; his face 
 might have been a caricature. Then he sprang up. 
 
 " Nom d'un chien de la cochon oh, that damned 
 Pilon, may he burn on needles in hell ! " And he 
 poured out a stream of vehement, biting oaths and 
 curses, scum of the gutter, filth of the sewer, terrible 
 in their foulness and horrible in their conception.
 
 ONE WAY TO ENGAGE A VALET 217 
 
 Had my hands been free, I should have clapped 
 them to my ears. As it was, I was compelled to 
 listen. I had heard cowboys and sea-captains when 
 profane under excitement, but what they could say 
 was as milk to vitriol in comparison with what flowed 
 and spattered from Esper's tongue. Then he stopped 
 abruptly and said with sudden quietness : " Five hun- 
 dred it is a fortune ! I may yet possibly have to 
 spit Pilon on a knife, oh, the robber ! Monsieur, five 
 hundred dollars is a great deal to give for only a 
 watch. I have never had the honor of possessing 
 such a watch to tell the time of day by. It must be 
 very fine, yes. Have you many such watches, 
 monsieur? " 
 
 His interest was polite but nevertheless sincere. 
 I had to confess that I had not many, in fact, only 
 the one and that I no longer possessed. A man 
 does not usually go about with a dozen watches, I 
 pointed out to him, unless he be a jeweler or perhaps 
 a collector. 
 
 "Ah, that! I have been a collector of watches," 
 he said with a flash of wit, " but of such watches as 
 this, no indeed, but only of poor watches, which it 
 was necessary to present to le oncle when I was 
 thirsty. But yours, master, is a grand watch, a 
 famous watch. Will you have need of a quick and 
 faithful valet hereafter?" 
 
 " Not unless he be a good swimmer." 
 
 Esper received the jest smiling. " I had forgotten 
 that affair."
 
 2i8 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " How much are you to receive as your share of 
 to-night's work ? " I asked. 
 
 " Peste! Ten dollars. It is little." 
 
 " To put a rope around your neck, very little." 
 
 Now, if ever, here was my chance to gain an ally. 
 He smoked and smiled his flickering smile in high 
 dissatisfaction with his comrade's cupidity; the 
 watch he had lost, the pay for his service in assist- 
 ing to murder me was ridiculously low; altogether 
 he was coming out of the affair badly, very badly 
 for one of his wit. He smiled and smoked and 
 frowned and was displeased. Because he was think- 
 ing deeply, the tip of his nose needed much scratch- 
 ing. He loved money and he would get but an 
 insignificant handful of sous; he loved watches and 
 he had been robbed of a magnificent one; it was 
 exasperating, it was diabolical, it was enough to 
 make one stick a knife into that son of a dog of a 
 Pilon. 
 
 " Nom de Dieu," he would say occasionally, 
 " Nom de Dieu" 
 
 At last a brilliant thought struck him. He swung 
 about to face me. 
 
 " Fool that I am, you are a gentleman, you have 
 money." 
 
 " I have some money," I admitted. 
 
 " Perhaps you could buy such another watch ? " 
 
 " It is not unlikely." 
 
 " Possibly you are wealthy." 
 
 " Possibly."
 
 ONE WAY TO ENGAGE A VALET 219 
 
 " I have been a valet, monsieur." 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " Of a truth to a gentleman in Bordeaux. I 
 could present you with excellent references were 
 Monsieur Cardinac living, but unfortunately he is 
 dead. He died suddenly without the thought fulness 
 to provide me with them." 
 
 I did not inquire into the nature of Monsieur 
 Cardinac's sudden demise, nor did I wish a valet, 
 least of all such a one as Esper. But the idea 
 had taken hold upon his mind; he went into de- 
 tails of his service and described the manner in 
 which his former employer was shaved, clothed, and 
 fed. 
 
 " Which would you prefer," I asked, " to be a 
 yalet or to have five hundred dollars cash ? " 
 
 " Both," he answered without hesitation. 
 
 " There are good pickings, I suppose, in service ? " 
 
 "Eh? Sometimes." 
 
 " I will give you five hundred dollars to free me." 
 
 His eyes flashed, then narrowed. " It is a risk 
 five hundred is little." 
 
 " It is much." 
 
 " Something but not equal to the position of 
 valet." 
 
 " I don't want you for a servant." 
 
 Surprise grew on his dirty face. " But yes. Did 
 I not please you yesterday? " 
 
 I laughed. Villainous as I knew him to be, con- 
 scienceless as he was, his impudence was captivating.
 
 220 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " You were well enough," I answered. " What 
 you want to be my valet for, I can't imagine." 
 
 " Monsieur, observe. I am weary of Pilon and 
 Descarte, who are sons of pigs without wit. You 
 are a good master. You will buy a new watch, you 
 are wealthy. We shall live comfortably together 
 away from the smell of fish." 
 
 " I '11 give you five hundred dollars to free me, 
 no more." 
 
 " Five hundred and the valetship, monsieur." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Pardon, but yes." 
 
 On his twitching, smiling face I saw a look of 
 determination. A great idea had come to him. As 
 D'Urville dreamed of empires, so Esper now dreamed 
 of a service where there would be many fine oppor- 
 tunities for sly pilfering. Esper my valet! It was 
 absurd, ridiculous, and yet to him it was anything 
 but absurd and ridiculous; he had me at a disad- 
 vantage and could press his demand, and he knew 
 shrewd, rascally mind ! that he dealt with a 
 man of honor. My word once passed, it would not 
 be broken. Then I grew grave. It was not a laugh- 
 ing matter. My life was in the fellow's hands; he 
 could dictate, and life, even with such a valet, were 
 better than death in the water. 
 
 " I will make it a thousand," I offered. 
 
 For an instant he hesitated. But imagination had 
 poured its magic fluid into his mind; he beheld 
 splendid visions of purloined stick pins, coins, cigars,
 
 ONE WAY TO ENGAGE A VALET 221 
 
 wines, even jewels; he had caught a vision of an 
 Aladdin's cave. 
 
 " No, the five hundred and the other." 
 
 " You little shrimp, you wry- faced scoundrel ! " 
 I exclaimed. 
 
 " Ha, that is like Monsieur Cardinac now," he 
 answered with admiration. " Monsieur Cardinac 
 was a witty gentleman you too will be a pleasant 
 master to serve." 
 
 Such imperturbability was beyond further attack. 
 As for him he had gone off on another line of 
 thought. 
 
 " That Pilon, what a joke on Pilon it will be ! 
 He will twirl his moustache and bawl oaths. Let 
 him. You agree, monsieur? " A hand without 
 pushed the door. " You agree ? " he repeated again, 
 anxiously. 
 
 Pilon and Descarte entered, and conversation was 
 cut off. Presently Senor Del Hervalle too put in 
 an appearance. He bade me good evening, then 
 turned to the three men and plunged into a dis- 
 cussion of the night's plan, which though carried 
 on without mention of my name was sufficiently 
 clear to convey understanding to my mind. A fog 
 had, it appeared, rolled up over sea and island as 
 had been predicted by Pilon, enveloping the shore, 
 which was not thick enough however to warrant the 
 risk of attempting to bear me captive along the 
 street. Unfortunately for their enterprise the house 
 which we occupied had no rear door, the one which
 
 222 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 had originally formed an entrance there having been 
 sealed by a previous householder. Pilon grumbled; 
 we should have to wait another hour at least, for 
 fishermen were still moving here and there at door- 
 ways. The envoy interrupted him. In the mean 
 time Pilon, he stated, should make ready a boat; 
 Senor Del Hervalle would go himself with him and 
 afterwards drink a glass of wine by the window 
 in the inn, where he could observe our passing down 
 to the sea; after which he would follow to observe 
 that the boat put off successfully. And Esper looked 
 over his shoulder at me, smiling a question with his 
 crooked smile. 
 
 It was no longer a mooted point in my mind of 
 accepting Esper as my valet-de-chambre ; to that 
 now I would gladly consent to gain my- freedom, 
 consent to that and far more. Our talk however 
 and whatever agreements we might enter into on 
 the subject of master and servant would now be 
 waste of breath. There was but an hour left for 
 me to live, during which I would be held a prisoner 
 and guarded with vigilance. Against Pilon and 
 Descarte, what could Esper do, even if he were so 
 minded, to accomplish my release? Pilon had my 
 revolver, Descarte was a powerful creature who 
 would not be stopped from earning his wage. Only 
 on the street or at the boat was it possible that my 
 escape could be effected; at that it would require 
 the killing of Pilon and Descarte and mayhap Senor 
 Del Hervalle, indeed, a piling up of slaughters of
 
 ONE WAY TO ENGAGE A VALET 223 
 
 which little Esper, or any other rascal, might well 
 be proud. But I knew that so vast an enterprise was 
 beyond him. 
 
 Del Hervalle and his three rascals talked on. De- 
 pression settled upon my mind. Outside was fog, 
 inside the walls despair. Two candles which Pilon 
 had brought awhile before and stuck by their own 
 grease on a stool cast an imperfect light throughout 
 the attic. The room was too big for the feeble 
 beams ; in the corners, in the angles of the chimney, 
 in the high peak of the roof, the shadows lurked and 
 lay or jerked and fluttered whenever the briny night 
 air puffed through the hole in the window and 
 started the candle-flames dancing. It was not a 
 pleasant thing to think that I might have been loung- 
 ing in a big chair before the fireplace in Stag Lodge. 
 A fierce resentment blazed up in my heart against 
 the fate that roped me to a seat in this barren prison. 
 Until I had gone to Forge two years before, where 
 first I met the little fat Frenchman, I had thought 
 the world a dull place. Since then it had proven 
 exciting enough. My acquaintance with the man, 
 and the world too for that matter, would end to- 
 night and whether or not to-morrow would continue 
 to be dull or be exciting I would neither know nor 
 care. I had always been rather fond of the sea, 
 but by daylight; and I had always hoped to have 
 my grave in good solid ground. To imagine oneself 
 washing around in seaweed, with curious fishes star- 
 ing at one and crabs scuttling among one's ribs
 
 224 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 and lobsters playfully tapping one's grinning teeth 
 that cannot eat them ugh ! Then, too, how would 
 Pilon proceed to his task of preparing me for burial ? 
 I wondered if he would stand over me as I lay 
 bound in the bottom of the boat, and if before he 
 slit my throat, twirling his moustache he would de- 
 liver himself of a number of boastful remarks, which 
 I might take if I wished as Life's Exordium; or 
 would he, being in a hurry to get back to bed and 
 sleep, finish the matter with dispatch? By the time 
 I had fed on these reflections I was in a desperate 
 state of resolve. I would put up a final fight. The 
 rope must need be unwound in order to permit me 
 to walk, for the villains could not conveniently carry, 
 kill, and bury me attached to a chair. The moment 
 of loosing my bonds should be the favorable time. 
 I would fight as never a man fought before; and 
 if they succeeded in taking me to the boat it would 
 be after first picking me a dead man from the boards 
 of the floor. 
 
 Sefior Del Hervalle advanced to the place where 
 I sat. 
 
 " It 's extremely sad that so promising a young 
 man must die and you will possibly find it incon- 
 venient, but, alas, such is the world ! " He lifted his 
 eyebrows philosophically. " I have just learned that 
 Pilon failed to provide you with either dinner or 
 supper; Pilon is a ruffian, he does not understand 
 the little courtesies which make existence endurable 
 and which are customary among gentlemen. Accept
 
 ONE WAY TO ENGAGE A VALET 225 
 
 my profound regrets, monsieur, it shall never occur 
 again, I assure you." And his eyes twinkled. 
 
 " It 's not yet too late for me to eat," said I. 
 
 " Perhaps, no. But the inn-woman has washed 
 her pans and kettles; she will not cook again until 
 morning. Moreover, we are advised by physicians 
 that it is injudicious to enter water immediately 
 after a meal. Now, my dear Monsieur Charles, if 
 there is anything you wish to say, I am at your 
 service. At the boat we shall be busy; besides, 
 one finds it difficult to listen attentively while shiver- 
 ing with chill of the fog." 
 
 I considered for a moment. 
 
 " You 're very confident," said I gravely, " but 
 when you murder me you 're but adding another 
 strand to the rope that will hang you. You think 
 that you '11 go to France and become a great man 
 bah ! You '11 decorate a gallows-beam. You '11 
 not even get out of America." 
 
 He removed his long amber cigarette-holder, 
 flicked an ash, and pursed his lips. 
 
 " I am an envoy. Your government will conform 
 to the usages of international custom and courtesy. 
 You speak unadvisedly." 
 
 " I speak the truth," I said. " There are five men 
 who know that Senor Del Hervalle was the mechanic 
 D'Urville, the scoundrel and murderer D'Urville of 
 Forge. Five men, I say, any one of whom can and 
 will rip off your mask and hang you." 
 
 That my scornful statement impressed him was
 
 226 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 evident. For a time he said nothing, while I could 
 imagine his brain clicking busily away like a delicate 
 machine, sorting facts, questions, possibilities. 
 
 " Monsieur Maitland Fenton " he con- 
 sidered. 
 
 " And they're not all. There 's a well-known war 
 correspondent who has heard all about you and will 
 look you up good reading for the public your 
 career will make, Senor. After him there 's an 
 American army officer who knows everything that 
 I know and, further, he is aware that you are here 
 on the island of Lavouche. What will be his in- 
 ference when I disappear? He has friends, high 
 friends in the American government. Explanations 
 will be required. There is a fifth wealthy gentleman 
 of New York, who has a finger on the strings of 
 half a dozen of your petty republics. You do not 
 know him, but he knows you. He has already, 
 without your learning the fact of course, turned his 
 eye in your direction, because it chanced that you 
 had a man shot against a wall whom he had em- 
 ployed on a certain matter. When he turns his 
 attention upon an individual, it is not without a 
 purpose in mind; and when I informed him of the 
 events of Forge and of your identity he was im- 
 mensely pleased." 
 
 "Ah!" said he. 
 
 My remarks were certainly interesting him. 
 
 " And to go back to Messrs. Fenton and Mait- 
 land, they have been placed in possession of the
 
 ONE WAY TO ENGAGE A VALET 227 
 
 facts that you are Sefior Del Hervalle, that you 
 are here, and, last and most important, that you 
 have already threatened my life. You are aware 
 that they have millions and, now that they have 
 track of you again, they will spend them if neces- 
 sary to bring you to justice. An envoy of Venezuela ! 
 How much do the nations of the world respect that 
 cut-throat Castro! They will reach a hand forth 
 and drag you by the hair from his little kingdom. 
 A great man of Europe! You will be a little man 
 suspended from a gibbet." 
 
 I had told him some news, that was a satisfaction 
 at any rate, news which would engage his mind for 
 some time to come. The fingers with which he held 
 his cigarette-holder were shaking. 
 
 " These are matters I shall meditate," said he 
 finally. 
 
 " You '11 have much need to." 
 
 For a while longer he stood, then made a gesture 
 as if to dismiss the unpleasant topic from his mind. 
 
 " We are far away from our immediate business," 
 he addressed me. And falling again into his suave 
 irony, " Your appearance is not prepossessing, Mon- 
 sieur Charles, to enact the chief role which is as- 
 signed to you." 
 
 " It matters little after one is dead whether he 
 dies clean or dirty, in rags or broadcloth." 
 
 His three hirelings, who all the while had stood 
 silent, listening to what they could but half under- 
 stand, were in their own depth again; and it was
 
 228 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 at this point that Esper, pert and impudent, ad- 
 vanced a pace. 
 
 " Possibly monsieur, since his apparel is awry, 
 would wish to employ a valet ? " he inquired. 
 
 Bursting into a roar of laughter, Pilon smote the 
 speaker on the back with his palm. It was a fine 
 jest! Descarte too grinned his savage grin; even 
 Sefior Del Hervalle condescended to beam. Esper, 
 on his part, was smiling his strange, furtive, flicker- 
 ing smile; the candle rays fell on his face and 
 brought out in strong relief of light and shadow 
 the man's lean cheeks, long bent nose, crooked twitch- 
 ing mouth. But he did something more than smile 
 he made of me a silent, eager, final demand. 
 
 I answered him: 
 
 " My need for a valet is at present exceeding 
 great. I employ you, Esper."
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A STRUGGLE ON THE SANDS 
 
 We had struck our bargain, Esper and I. A ray 
 of hope flashed into my breast, but only a faint and 
 struggling ray. How he should outwit these others 
 for it must be by wit if at all I had not the 
 faintest conception. Nor did he, I think, at the 
 time have any plan ; he would trust to the mind God 
 had given him (so he would have said) and con- 
 trive an occasion out of opportunity. Could he do 
 it? The whole matter rested in his grimy little 
 hands. 
 
 Pilon departed to make ready the boat, and with 
 him went Senor Del Hervalle. Descarte drew out 
 his pipe and smoked. Esper continued to engage 
 himself with me in pleasant conversation. 
 
 " How is it, monsieur, this thing of an ocean to 
 sleep in ? " he inquired. 
 
 " I '11 be better able to tell you to-morrow," I 
 answered. 
 
 " Truly, yes. There will be big fish and whales 
 to disturb you, however, just as rats come and bite 
 at Descarte when he is drunk." 
 
 The man named turned a scowling countenance 
 upon his frivolous companion.
 
 230 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " Sacre, I will beat you for that," he growled. 
 
 " Oh, mon camarade, no. It is only a little joke, 
 and the rats come only when you are very drunk. 
 I myself have helped to drive them out of your 
 head. But what will you ! One cannot enjoy drunk- 
 enness and not pay the penny." 
 
 " That is true," Descarte agreed. 
 
 " So therefore the rats must run." 
 
 " I am very dry now," Descarte said. 
 
 Esper rose from the stool on which he sat and 
 humming a chanson strolled to the window, where 
 he put his head through the broken pane for a while. 
 When he rejoined us, his cheeks were damp with 
 the fine moisture of the fog. He resumed con- 
 versation. 
 
 " What think you, Descarte, must I as valet fol- 
 low my master into the sea ? " 
 
 Descarte showed his yellow teeth in a hideous 
 grin. 
 
 " I will help you there if you wish." 
 
 " Salt would make me thirsty. There would be 
 much water but no wine. Water is for imbeciles." 
 
 " That is true," Descarte admitted, and looked 
 around. " Has the dog of a Pilon left us nothing? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 Again Esper went to the window and put his 
 head forth. When he returned, he shot a rapid 
 glance at me, rolled himself a cigarette which he 
 lighted at a candle, then rubbed his nose specu- 
 latively.
 
 A STRUGGLE ON THE SANDS 231 
 
 " How deep is the sea, monsieur ? " 
 
 " Some miles." 
 
 " That is very far, a long jump up to come back 
 for some of madame's brandy." 
 
 " Perhaps you could find some down yonder in 
 the bottom of the ocean. No doubt there are dozens 
 of barrels rolling around that have spilled out of 
 wrecked ships," I suggested. 
 
 " Ah, barrels would be necessary, for I should 
 be very dry indeed with so much salt about." 
 
 " Damn Pilon, to leave us no brandy," said 
 Descarte. 
 
 " Pilon is a cistern, he drinks it all, my good 
 comrade. But, monsieur, I cannot follow you, I 
 fear. The salt would spoil the barrels when they 
 were opened. Parbleu, the thought of so much 
 salt makes my throat stick together. I am very 
 dry." 
 
 " And I I am dry," Descarte said. 
 
 " We have nothing to drink." 
 
 " Nom de nom, nothing." 
 
 Esper stood with a forefinger to his nose, his 
 smile coming and going. He looked at Descarte, 
 Descarte scowled at the floor. 
 
 " Tiens! " Esper suddenly exclaimed. 
 
 Descarte looked up. " What? " 
 
 " Brandy, a bottle." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " I perceived Pilon to hide so much " he 
 indicated a bottle half full " in his long coat,
 
 232 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 the oil-skin coat in the room under this. I will 
 fetch it." 
 
 Descarte sprang up, seized him by the shoulder, 
 and spun him aside. 
 
 " Thief, would you drink it all ! I, Descarte, will 
 fetch it." And growling in his beard, he stamped 
 out of the attic. 
 
 For an instant Esper harked after him. The door 
 remained open and we could hear the man's feet 
 clumping down the flight of steps to the next floor 
 beneath. Breathlessly I waited. If Esper was to 
 do the business, this was his chosen time. He came 
 quickly to me. 
 
 " Listen, monsieur," he said. " I cut the rope, 
 but you must remain without moving. Descarte 
 will not observe. He will return without the brandy, 
 for there is none. Then I shall go down and look. 
 When I too come back, I will cry, * The prisoner ! 
 oh, thou traitor, Descarte! Pilon will wring thy 
 neck for cutting that rope/ That will be the signal, 
 master, for you to spring up. We will follow to 
 catch you, but I will stumble in Descarte's way. 
 Find then a place where your legs will carry you." 
 
 With his knife he cut my bonds even as he spoke, 
 leaving them to retain the appearance of being yet 
 unsevered. The release of pressure upon my numbed 
 and aching limbs sent the blood smarting through 
 my arteries ; pins and needles filled each finger and 
 toe. But, oh, the joy of that pain! Working my 
 muscles into their normal condition, but gently so
 
 A STRUGGLE ON THE SANDS 233 
 
 as not to disturb the segments of rope, I gradually 
 restored circulation. Descarte was making a thor- 
 ough search. 
 
 " To resume our discussion, monsieur," Esper 
 said, lighting a fresh cigarette and taking his seat, 
 " all the salt in the sea, where does it come from? " 
 
 At this instant I loved the rogue, loved his 
 twisted nose and odd smile. For was I not re- 
 leased, was I not again a free man ? Del Hervalle's 
 plot had fallen apart with the rope. Nothing in 
 the world should stop me from going out of this 
 stone house where I had spent long fearful hours. 
 Eagerness bade me leap up, fling myself out into 
 the air, and shout Del Hervalle's villainy to the 
 world; prudence whispered that I might meet 
 Descarte on the stair and he had on his person 
 a wicked knife. Moreover obligation to the little 
 fellow who had played his part so well held me yet 
 bound by honor to give him the chance he demanded 
 to reflect the guilt of my escape upon Descarte. 
 I might have fled then and there. Esper was only a 
 rascal but had I not given my word ? 
 
 " Where does all the salt come from ? Out of the 
 earth," I answered. 
 
 " Then there is more to come ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It will fill up the ocean, mon Dieu, until there 
 is no water, only salt." 
 
 "Possibly." 
 
 He shook his head. " Master, I shall not follow
 
 234 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 you into the sea to be dried up hard in salt like a 
 cod-fish in a barrel. No, monsieur, that would be 
 to ask too much, even of a valet." 
 
 On the stone steps Descarte's boots sounded 
 clumping up to join us. He wore a face of wrath 
 when he entered. 
 
 " Dog, son of a dog, thou drank it ! " he snarled. 
 
 Esper raised his eyebrows in astonishment. 
 
 " I ? No, no, my comrade." 
 
 " There is no bottle there except an empty one." 
 
 " Then Pilon has taken it." 
 
 " Thou liest." 
 
 " By the Little Mother, no. Stay you, I will 
 look." 
 
 Descarte scowled. "If you find it and bring it not 
 here, I shall in truth send you diving after this 
 other dog." And he turned his scowl upon me. 
 
 " Ha, jest not," said Esper. " Jest not so seri- 
 ously, Descarte." 
 
 He disappeared in his turn, descending the stair 
 on the mock search. The minute of deliverance was 
 near. Descarte scowled and listened and wrinkled 
 his brow; far were his thoughts from me or my 
 escape, all on a bottle. He was in no mood for 
 jests, yet the one Esper was about to play was an 
 excellent one. I moved my feet a little until I had 
 them placed so as to enable me to make a quick 
 forward spring. And then and then, what was 
 that I heard? Del Hervalle's voice? 
 
 They were ascending the stair together. Evi-
 
 A STRUGGLE ON THE SANDS 235 
 
 dently the Senor had not been satisfied to sit at 
 madame's inn-window, or perhaps the fog was too 
 thick to permit him to look without. He stepped 
 into the room wiping moisture from his face with 
 a linen handkerchief. Pilon waited at the boat, he 
 was informing Esper, who listened with head on 
 one side; what would the little fellow do? Would 
 he give the signal ? Well, none would be needed. 
 
 The fingers of my right hand slipped down and 
 closed round a stool leg. I straightened my body a 
 trifle and several of the severed coils slipped away 
 until the ends showed. But none of the three men 
 for the moment perceived what had occurred, for 
 Senor Del Hervalle still talked busily with the pair. 
 He had now arrived in the center of the room just 
 behind Descarte, who continued smoking on his 
 stool, from which he had not moved since his re- 
 turn; Esper however turned his head on one side 
 so that he could hold me in range of vision. Up 
 and down his glance flashed, noting the betraying 
 fragments of rope. 
 
 " As valet to Monsieur Charles, I cannot convince 
 myself that it is necessary to follow him into the 
 sea," he said gayly. 
 
 " Oh, mon bon enfant," smiled Del Hervalle. 
 
 Esper shot another glance at me, ran his tongue 
 over his lips. The time for action had at last come. 
 I gripped the chair-leg tighter and leaned forward. 
 
 " The service of a valet " he stated, then dra- 
 matically clutching the envoy's arm, exclaimed,
 
 236 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " Look, Sefior, look ! The prisoner ! Thou dog, 
 Descarte, to cut him loose traitor, stinking 
 
 Pig- 
 
 What more he cried I never heard. Up I sprang 
 and swinging the stool in a great circle flung it at 
 Descarte's head. Then I jumped for the door. 
 The man at whom I had aimed the heavy missile 
 ducked his head and body, falling over on one knee 
 against the seat whereon stood the two candles, 
 knocking them in a sputter upon the floor, while the 
 stool passed on, striking Del Hervalle full in the 
 breast and hurling him prostrate. That much I saw 
 before the light suddenly diminished to the little 
 halo of radiance which lay round the flames burn- 
 ing on the boards. Out I went, followed by a cry 
 from Del Hervalle for the men to pursue me. 
 
 I took the first stair by great leaps. A lighted 
 lantern hung from a hook on the landing beneath, 
 spreading from its dingy panes a few feeble rays. 
 As I came under it, I cast a swift glance up the steps 
 behind me; Descarte was already out of the room, 
 jumping downward like a mad bull and carrying a 
 knife in his hand. Esper was close at his heels. 
 Two steps and I was at the top of the lower stair, 
 down which I plunged. In the room below was 
 darkness. My recollection of the spot where opened 
 the door and where hung its latch was vague; I 
 had to halt and fumble for the latter. Almost 
 Descarte reached me as I finally pulled it open and 
 burst out of the dreadful house.
 
 A STRUGGLE ON THE SANDS 237 
 
 The fog was not so thick but what the moon, now 
 risen a little way above the wood and cliff of rock, 
 diffused the night with a pale and luminous glow. 
 It was as if the street were filled with a mysterious 
 golden haze. The walls of the opposite houses 
 loomed dark; objects could be seen only as vague 
 shapes; and into this strange vapor-filled canyon 
 of the street down which the moon shone I and 
 my two pursuers fled. That there was fog I had 
 forgotten; it enveloped me with a sudden surprise. 
 Emotions however were out of place now, it was a 
 time for legs. Behind me not ten feet I heard the 
 footfalls of Descarte and Esper. From Esper I had 
 nothing to fear, but from the scoundrel who ran at 
 his side I had everything to dread, for did he once 
 get in reach of me he would not hesitate to plunge 
 his knife into my back. Down the empty foggy 
 street we therefore clattered and out upon the sands. 
 By the sound of their steps when our feet last echoed 
 on the rock pavement I knew I had gained ground 
 on them. Without question I could outrun my pur- 
 suers if I had the endurance, but wearied by the 
 hours in which I had been held captive, stiff from 
 long remaining in a rigid position and weak from 
 hunger, I knew that if I did not soon shake off 
 that human wolf behind me, Descarte, it would come 
 to a hand-to-hand struggle. 
 
 Then all at once I found myself stumbling among 
 the fishing boats which had been drawn up that even- 
 ing close together on the sand. Their blotted shapes
 
 238 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 lay like sleeping animals of the sea; one checked 
 my way when I darted into a space between two 
 others, and though there was a narrow space through 
 which I might have crawled, it seemed to my eyes 
 in the yellow obscuring haze and in the haste of 
 the moment that I was walled in, caught in a cul- 
 de-sac. There was no time to make an examination. 
 I whirled about and met Descarte rushing at me. 
 
 When however he saw that I waited to receive 
 him, he abruptly stopped. My foot stirred a stick 
 of wood and stooping quickly I picked it up ; it was 
 perhaps a foot long, no thicker than my thumb, a 
 poor weapon of defense, but still a weapon of a 
 sort. Desperate men clutch at straws; I clutched 
 mine. Esper had run up his legs were too short 
 to keep the swift pace Descarte and I made and 
 now stood peering at us. 
 
 " You have him," he panted. 
 
 " To be sure. Come, we will finish it," Descarte 
 snarled. 
 
 But Esper did not respond, nor did I anticipate 
 any such move on his part. Descarte advanced a 
 step, crouching forward, knife held at the end of 
 a crooked arm. Suddenly he dashed at me ; I leaped 
 aside and smote him on the cheek. A curse burst 
 from his lips, a curse of pain, and a second time 
 he flew at me, lunging, while I again sprang from 
 the boat against which I had backed. His knife- 
 point missing its mark sank into the wood; and as 
 before I dealt him a stinging blow upon the face.
 
 A STRUGGLE ON THE SANDS 239 
 
 Contempt for the stick which he first held had given 
 way to respect; jerking his knife free, he retreated 
 a pace or two and guarded me in my corner. 
 
 Thus we continued for a time watching each 
 other. In the end he began a slow cautious crawling 
 forward. More than ever he looked an animal, with 
 his bare head on which the hair fell every way drawn 
 down into his shoulders, his body crouching, both 
 hands extended, the one clutching the knife, the 
 other empty. So had similar beasts come out of 
 their holes when the Bastille tumbled! Behind him 
 was the figure of Esper; he watched motionless, 
 giving Descarte no assistance, rendering me no aid ; 
 he had performed his part of our bargain, and now 
 it remained with me to use the limbs which he had 
 freed. Making a step on one side, I sought to 
 widen the space between Descarte and the boat and 
 leap through, but my antagonist kept even with me. 
 I slipped to the other side; he too was there. 
 
 In the strange yellow haze that laid a ghastly light 
 upon everything I could see the man's gleaming eye- 
 balls and uncovered teeth. No longer was it for 
 Del Hervalle or Pilon that he strove, no longer for 
 a wage did he fight, but the lust of blood fired him, 
 made his limbs agile, and caused his nostrils to 
 quiver. We were now barely out of reach of one 
 another. I too was crouching, knees bent, muscles 
 tense, eyes never leaving his. Then he launched 
 himself at me. With all my strength I whipped 
 the stick down upon his hand; something snapped
 
 2 4 o THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 stick, wrist, something the knife dropped at 
 our feet and then I found myself locked in his claw- 
 ing embrace. Backward and forward we swayed 
 for a time, glaring, straining, our hot fierce breaths 
 mingling. The man was strong by Heaven, he 
 was strong! legs of iron, arms of thick oak, hands 
 of steel. Then down upon the sands we fell. 
 
 Every detail of that picture, blurred by fog as 
 it was, is still distinct in my mind. I lay on my 
 back, for in the trial of strength he had bested me; 
 close before my eyes he pressed his rage-drawn face 
 contorted into hideous lines and wrinkles; past it 
 and overhead were the masts of the boats rising 
 vague and unsubstantial and ghostly. Esper had 
 drawn near; he bent forward in excitement, rest- 
 ing his hands upon his knees and smiling his fan- 
 tastic smile. Once he moistened his lips and half 
 lifted his knife, as if to plunge it into Descarte's 
 back, but he let his hand drop again upon his knee. 
 And all about us was the strange golden fog. 
 
 Descarte had his hands under my body, where I 
 had fallen upon them. Gripping his arms with mine, 
 I sought to hold him ; he tugged, gritting his teeth ; 
 I could feel the convulsive squirming of his body 
 upon my own. Then, keeping his chest tight on 
 mine, he began drawing up his knees ; inch by inch 
 he worked them forward. That I dare not allow, 
 or he would presently have them doubled under him 
 and upon my trunk, with which leverage he could 
 free his hands and have me at his mercy. In the
 
 A STRUGGLE ON THE SANDS 241 
 
 minute or two while we lay thus at grip I had grown 
 cooler and was able to calculate my chances, des- 
 perate as they were. He was stronger than I, the 
 fact had already been demonstrated; by superior 
 skill or by some trick must I win the victory. While 
 I swiftly considered, I locked my legs over his 
 and halted their upward drag. I tried a quick turn 
 of his body it nearly caught him, but he recovered 
 himself and gritting out an oath between his teeth 
 once more pressed me back. The holds and clinches 
 known to wrestlers I dare not chance, for did I but 
 cease the pressure I exerted upon his arms, aye, even 
 for the fraction of a second, he would have had 
 one of his powerful hands out and about my throat. 
 Under my back I could feel them opening and shut- 
 ting, working furiously. Nothing of wrestlers' laws 
 knew he; his were the brute's straight instinctive 
 methods. Again he began to draw up his knees; 
 tighter I locked my leg-grip. I could hear Esper, 
 strung with excitement of the contest, whispering 
 to himself. 
 
 By now the tremendous strain was telling on us 
 both. Perspiration burst from our foreheads and 
 streamed upon our faces; our chests heaved one 
 against the other with the labor of our breathing; 
 yet to the one watcher we must have appeared as 
 immovable as a sculptured piece of marble. I could 
 feel the cords standing taut upon my temples; 
 Descarte's face appeared a devilish masque cast in 
 iron; the thumping of our hearts sounded like the
 
 242 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 hurried beat of drums. Never for an instant did 
 the contracting pull of his legs halt, never for an 
 instant did his muscles relax, while I ceased to see 
 anything but his two burning eyeballs. A little, a 
 steady remorseless little, his legs drew through mine, 
 little by little his back arched, his knees hitched 
 upward. 
 
 At another time I might have held him, indeed, 
 I have persuaded myself to the belief that I could 
 have done so. But now I was far from proper con- 
 dition for any struggle, let alone one with such a 
 man; I had been strapped ten hours in a chair, 
 bones were sore, muscles tired. I had had no water 
 all day what so much as thirst saps the strength 
 and steals one's reserve ? and had no food. How 
 indeed for so long I was able to hold him on equal 
 terms, unless by sheer nerve or by a kind of fighting 
 madness, has always been a wonder to me. In 
 his squat thick shape there was concealed the im- 
 mense power of a gorilla. Brain he had little; 
 there was no cunning, no craft, no guile in his 
 assault, no sudden surprise to be met in his attack. 
 His was a steady, blind, enormous effort to crush. 
 
 And at last he got one knee upon my thigh. He 
 gave a jerk and his right hand came free from under 
 my back. A thrill of fear shot through me I locked 
 his arm in mine; desperately twisting, hauling, 
 swaying, he sought to tear it out of my grip. A 
 snarl was on his lips, a growl on his tongue; the 
 little brass ring trembled in his ear. Now by some
 
 A STRUGGLE ON THE SANDS 243 
 
 sudden move I should have whirled him over, but 
 weakness was stealing through my body. He 
 wrenched his arm free, next instant his ringers 
 clutched my throat. I caught his wrist, pulling at 
 it. It did not yield. The breath fought in my 
 lungs, the veins in my temples seemed to burst. 
 Before me Descarte's wolfish features, and past his 
 shoulder Esper's knotted face, the face of the one 
 watcher who had crept near, and still past him the 
 faint yellow disk of the moon, all began to sway 
 and swing dizzily. Roaring was in my ears, fires 
 were in my brain. 
 
 When I became conscious it was of a dead weight 
 upon my body. The ringing was still in my ears, 
 blood yet pounded at my temples, but I was breath- 
 ing deep, life-giving breaths. For a while I did 
 not move, lying with closed eyes. The man's hand 
 was still on my throat, now however an idle hand. 
 When I lifted my eyelids it was no longer to see 
 Descarte's fierce face, only the tangled mat of his 
 hair, for his head had fallen on my breast; in the 
 crotch of my loin his knee remained, his back was 
 still arched. Down upon us looked the moon and 
 Esper's twisted features. My glance fell upon the 
 handle of the knife which was buried in the man's 
 back. He was dead. At the last instant Esper, that 
 strange enigma of a human being, had plucked up 
 and planted the villain's own knife in Descarte's 
 body. With an effort that seemed to exhaust me 
 I pushed the man off, then rolled over and struggled
 
 244 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 to my knees, then to my feet. Esper caught me 
 with a supporting hand, assisted me to the side of 
 a boat, where I leaned for a time seeking to over- 
 come the sickness that was on me, the sickness of 
 exhaustion and horror and almost of the kiss of 
 death. My throat seemed to have been torn out; 
 I could only rub it feebly. My brain refused to 
 work. I looked stupidly at the huddled lump of 
 the dead man lying on the sands. 
 
 Presently Esper ran down to a pool and returned 
 bearing his hat full and dripping. He dashed water 
 into my face and under its stimulation my thoughts 
 cleared, the paralysis left my body, and horror de- 
 parted from my mind. So, stretching my arms and 
 stamping my feet, I regained a little energy, while 
 Esper put on his wet hat from which drops fell 
 about the rim, and looked all around him at the 
 night. For a moment neither of us spoke ; I glanced 
 up at the faint moon and at the shadowy boats 
 standing close and silent in the weird, yellow, un- 
 earthly light, then finally down once more at the 
 dark object on the sand at our feet. 
 
 Esper blew on his finger-nails, smiling his queer 
 flickering smile, and gazed at me sidewise. 
 
 " But, mon Dieu," he said, " that was not a joke, 
 that little can-can of yours ! "
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE TEUTONIC METHOD 
 
 Time has a fashion of playing queer tricks with 
 clocks. Now the hours will flit by like dust-specks 
 through a sunbeam, now they will lag like dragged 
 weights ; let the mind be free of all but routine inci- 
 dents and the minutes will be ticked off unnoticed, 
 let event crowd on event and seconds will swell 
 to hours, hours to days. It seemed as if weeks had 
 passed since I had set foot on the strand to come to 
 the village in answer to the betraying message, yet 
 but ten hours had elapsed. Morning beheld me 
 lightly chaffing Andrew over a breakfast omelet; 
 night saw me standing over a man newly killed. 
 All the fantastic happenings of the day had thrown 
 time out of gear, stretched it tremendously. Kalei- 
 doscopic scenes succeeded one another in my mind: 
 the coming of the messenger, the hurrying up the 
 street, the blind unequal struggle in the room, my 
 form bound to the chair, the jeering of Pilon, my 
 peering out the window, the visit of Senor Del 
 Hervalle, the breaking of the pane, the terrible fas- 
 cination of watching the three men below me, my 
 shouts to Billy, my dealings with Esper, the hurled 
 chair, flight down the stair and along the golden
 
 246 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 fog-filled street, the cautious crouching of Descarte 
 and me, the struggle fierce and savage and now 
 Descarte's body like a black period at the end of the 
 paragraph, lying on the sands. 
 
 Esper spoke to me. " Will you not go home now, 
 monsieur?" 
 
 There was a note of solicitude in his voice. I laid 
 a hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "Yes and you?" 
 
 " It 's not best that I go with you yet, master, 
 while Pilon and the Senor are angry. Pilon's knife 
 might peep in between my ribs and I should open 
 my eyes wide in surprise. No, that will not do. I 
 shall go back to the house and tell a fine story." 
 For a moment he mused. " I shall go back run- 
 ning, scarcely able to gasp for breath and fright, 
 my hair standing on end." How that would be 
 accomplished I could not conceive. " Upon a stool I 
 will collapse I point, stutter, cry out that Descarte 
 is dead like a pig, that I killed him because he set 
 you free, and that you chased me all the way up the 
 street even to the door, with a great club and greater 
 curses. That will make a fine tale, eh ? " 
 
 " It will satisfy even Senor Del Hervalle." 
 
 " But he will not laugh." 
 
 " No, I don't think he will laugh. The manner 
 in which his plan has turned out will hardly amuse 
 him." 
 
 " Ah, the Senor and Pilon will depart quickly 
 from Lavouche, master, I am of the opinion."
 
 THE TEUTONIC METHOD 247 
 
 "Why do you think so, little Esper?" 
 
 " They sought to kill and pickle you." 
 
 " They may invent a tale also." 
 
 Esper was visibly impressed. He looked up at 
 the moon, down at Descarte's body, and rubbed his 
 nose reflectively. 
 
 " Yes, a tale could be made." 
 
 " Can you guess, my valet, how the tale will 
 run?" 
 
 Again he rubbed his nose, eying me. " A little." 
 
 " Del Hervalle will invent the tale and Pilon will 
 tell it, and much money will be offered Esper also 
 to tell it." 
 
 " There will be money then ? " 
 
 " Undoubtedly." 
 
 " That is something ; Lavouche seems a very good 
 little purse for money." 
 
 " But you are my valet." 
 
 " Humph," said he thoughtfully. 
 
 " And therefore cannot tell the tale." 
 
 He looked about at the masts and off towards the 
 island. 
 
 " Humph," said he once more, in a study. 
 
 "Well?" I asked. 
 
 "How much money will there be, master?" 
 
 " That depends on what amount you could squeeze 
 out of them." 
 
 " Ah, then Senor would be an orange too ; I could 
 squeeze out a great deal." 
 
 " Unless he grew weary of being pressed and had
 
 248 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 Pilon stop the sport with his knife, after which 
 happening what Esper could say or do would not 
 matter. The tale of Pilon alone would be enough. 
 It is better to be a valet." 
 
 " Judgment would be necessary in order to squeeze 
 the Senor just far enough," he remarked. 
 
 " Then you would lose your master and the five 
 hundred dollars." 
 
 " Explain how lose that five hundred dollars? If 
 you should have the honor, monsieur, of going to 
 prison, you would yet have some days to pay the 
 money." 
 
 " And you would fatten on extortion from both 
 Senor Del Hervalle and me." 
 
 " Extortion I like not that word." 
 
 I closed my hand on his shoulder. " Accept 
 Senor' s money, telling the tale he will invent, and 
 I '11 fill your little carcass with bullets. You shall 
 speak the truth when the time comes or you '11 join 
 Descarte." 
 
 " I do not prefer the company of Descarte. Yet 
 a fresh orange " He did not finish. 
 
 " My warning is clear." 
 
 Lifting his face, he gazed at me, mouth and nose 
 drawn to one side in his whimsical smile. That I 
 should do as I said, he read in my eyes. 
 
 "Master " 
 
 ' That is better, always say ' master.' ' 
 
 " Pardon, ' monsieur ' was what I intended. I 
 will consider the matter."
 
 THE TEUTONIC METHOD 249 
 
 My hand still grasped his shoulder. I increased 
 the pressure. 
 
 " Aye, consider it and carefully. Now I shall 
 go home." 
 
 Out from amongst the tangle of boats we went. 
 When we listened, there was no sound save that of 
 the distant surf rolling on the shore Mayhap Sefior 
 Del Hervalle awaited in the attic of the ancient stone 
 house some tidings of the pursuit; mayhap Pilon 
 smoked somewhere up yonder in the fog where his 
 boat lay ready on the water, and cursed and won- 
 dered why no one came. Del Hervalle should have 
 his tidings, but Pilon might wait till his boat rotted 
 before any prisoner came. 
 
 " I will begin running that I may tell my tale 
 without breath," Esper announced. " Also it will 
 be best to be without a hat." He flung it upon the 
 sand and drew his knife. " I bid you good evening, 
 master or monsieur, which one I do not as yet 
 know." And he set off on a run towards the street, 
 melting away in the fog. 
 
 Turning my face southward, I walked slowly 
 along the beach. Directions were difficult to keep, 
 and I drew in nearer to the dark outline of the bor- 
 dering trees which would serve me as a guide. The 
 weird yellow fog was all about me. I could hear the 
 faint murmur which continues in a wood even upon 
 the quietest night, the little talk of insects and leaves 
 and bark and dripping moisture. And always there 
 was the steady insistent muffled note of the sea.
 
 250 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 Half the distance I had covered when I heard 
 voices. Strung as I still was by the excitement 
 through which I had passed, my nerves on edge, 
 my mind quick to conceive danger, I listened while 
 my heart beat a fresh alarm. Danger I had breathed 
 for ten hours ; the whole island seemed yet to bristle 
 with new and invisible dangers. The speakers drew 
 nearer; I could see their shapes, vague blurs in 
 the fog, two of them, and presently I recognized 
 Andrew's substantial tones in speaking. I uttered 
 a shout, and they hurried to me. 
 
 " It 's you, then," Billy Harrington exclaimed, 
 when they joined me. " What have you been up 
 to? We've been worried to death." He peered 
 into my face. " Why, man, you look as if you 'd 
 been shot out of a twelve-inch gun hat gone, face 
 dirty, head bloody, clothes torn." 
 
 " Perhaps I do," I answered. " I 've been a pris- 
 oner all day and have just now come near being 
 killed." 
 
 " Oh, Master Charles oh, Master Charles, if 
 I had only known where to come to you ! " Andrew 
 cried with emotion. 
 
 How good it was to have such staunch friends! 
 Good noble old Andrew, who would have run his 
 gray head into any danger to save me a jot of pain ; 
 honest Billy Harrington, who would have followed 
 me, eager as a hound upon a scent, into any den of 
 scoundrels ! 
 
 As we walked to Stag Lodge, I briefly told my
 
 THE TEUTONIC METHOD 251 
 
 story, how I had been trapped, imprisoned, released, 
 and recounted my final struggle with Descarte. 
 Then I learned what had occurred during my ab- 
 sence. When I had not appeared for lunch, Andrew 
 had not been greatly surprised, for he knew that I 
 sometimes stayed at Moore House; that I was not 
 fishing he knew by the cat-boat, which was still 
 overturned upon the beach exactly as I had left it 
 in order that the new paint might dry. About three 
 o'clock however doubts began to assail him; the 
 previous visit of the fishermen arose in his mind, 
 as well as recollection of my surveillance by that 
 rascal Esper and my throwing Pilon into the water. 
 Any one of these embroilments might have a con- 
 nection with my absence. He put on his hat and 
 made his way to Moore House, where he learned 
 that I had not appeared; Betty, to whom he con- 
 fided his doubts and vague fears, also became 
 alarmed; they determined upon a search. Into 
 the wood they went a little way, but of course found 
 nothing. At the village it appeared that no one 
 had seen me, since it happened that I had passed 
 up the street in the middle of the morning when 
 men were absent and housewives busy. Betty, re- 
 membering the sinister warning which Margot had 
 given her to deliver, grew more anxious. Beware 
 strange doors but what doors ? Sending Andrew 
 back to look again in the wood, she went up the 
 street examining every door on each side; nothing 
 out of the common rewarded her they seemed
 
 252 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 only ordinary doors. Then she decided in spite of 
 her antipathy for the dark mysterious woman to seek 
 Margot and question her as to her enigmatical 
 words. Margot was at such and such a neighbor's, 
 she learned from Margot's mother, and when she 
 reached the designated neighbor's Margot had gone, 
 it was not known whither. Disappointed in this 
 direction, disquieted by uncertain fears, she knew 
 not what to do. Depressed, anxious, weary, she set 
 out for home. On the way she found Andrew stand- 
 ing on the wood road. He had returned to the 
 Lodge, where upon the veranda he discovered the 
 Baron, who was somewhat surprised that he had 
 not been escorted that day by Descarte, but account- 
 ing for it on the ground of the fellow's sore feet; 
 somewhat curious too that neither Andrew nor I 
 was at home. My servant made the conventional 
 answer that I was spending the day out and would 
 return that evening, whereupon the Baron had taken 
 his departure. To Mr. Moore Betty and Andrew 
 expressed their fears ; he only laughed. Could n't 
 a young fellow miss a meal without anything being 
 the matter? I would show up in a short time. 
 As it was now approaching six o'clock and a guest 
 would soon arrive in the person of William Har- 
 rington, Andrew once more took his way homeward. 
 He went about the preparation of supper with a 
 very heavy heart; somehow fear haunted him in 
 spite of all logic besides, I was one to get into 
 trouble; had I not caused him immeasurably more
 
 THE TEUTONIC METHOD 253 
 
 worry than had either my father or my grand- 
 father, or both put together ? Thus he mixed doubt 
 with his batter and stirred anxiety in the gravy. 
 Finally, when it was near seven, Harrington 
 appeared. 
 
 To him, while he ate, Andrew made known my 
 disappearance. Billy ruminated. I might be about 
 some business of my own; on the other hand, had 
 I received his wire? Yes, and had planned to meet 
 him with a cart at the railway station, but Antoine's 
 cart, which I was to have used, had not been called 
 for. Billy ruminated afresh, he cheered Andrew and 
 ruminated ; for did he not recall the singular occur- 
 rence which had happened when he went up the 
 village street to inquire the way to my house? A 
 voice had shouted his name, my voice; a blood- 
 curdling yell had resounded between the walls, my 
 yell. But I was nowhere to be seen when he looked 
 about and then no longer to be heard. Where had 
 that wild yell come from? He had cast about in 
 every direction; before him a short distance stood 
 a little fellow who smiled crookedly and said the 
 man who yelled was a drunkard in the attic of the 
 house, a toper who believed rats were gnawing his 
 toes. Oh, yes, it was only that pig of a drunkard. 
 So Harrington, imagining himself to have been de- 
 ceived in my voice, had turned into the inn, asked 
 the road to my house, and being informed thereupon 
 set forth anew. 
 
 Eight o'clock struck by the time he finished sup-
 
 254 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 per. Fog covered the island, darkness had closed 
 down ; the pair of men could do nothing but specu- 
 late upon my whereabouts. They sat before the fire- 
 place one on each side, smoking their pipes, now 
 and again uttering a surmise, though for the most 
 part silent; at nine o'clock, at which time the moon 
 rose and in a degree lighted the foggy night, they 
 decided to make a fresh search. For, as Harring- 
 ton sat and pondered, recollection of my frantic yell 
 grew upon him; that it was my voice he was confi- 
 dent and reluctantly informed Andrew of his adven- 
 ture. They wandered down to my little wharf be- 
 fore starting for the village, on the chance of finding 
 me there, but instead encountered the Baron, who 
 was looking out to sea. He also displayed anxiety 
 over my disappearance, which was not strange con- 
 sidering that though he was an opponent he had 
 eaten of my bread and salt and was a gentleman. A' 
 few suggestions he offered, he asked a number of 
 questions, and showed that he was a great deal dis- 
 turbed by the news. He had come to Stag Lodge to 
 while away a dull evening, he explained, and he ex- 
 pressed every hope of my speedy return without 
 misadventure. Were we going to the village ? Then 
 he would remain on the spot to watch in case I 
 came during their absence. Certainly the Baron 
 was a gentleman whom one would wish to number 
 among one's friends. 
 
 " Well, I came at last," I said. 
 
 " Very hungry you must be too, Master Charles,"
 
 THE TEUTONIC METHOD 255 
 
 Andrew said, " for you 've had nothing all day. 
 Whatever you wish, I '11 prepare." 
 
 " Let it be something solid and plenty of it." 
 
 Billy was dissatisfied. " I call this devilish hard 
 luck for me to miss all the fun and not get a whack 
 at those fellows." 
 
 " We 've not finished with them yet, by any 
 means," I answered. 
 
 " I hope not. Certainly I was stupid this evening 
 when I heard you yell and did n't follow the cry. 
 I should have gone into that house and up the stair 
 ten steps at a time." 
 
 I smiled. " One can't go tearing into strange 
 houses, you know, on a mere suspicion. Besides, 
 you could n't be expected to know that I was in a 
 particularly interesting situation, and further you 
 did n't know which house to rush." 
 
 " I could have looked around a bit." 
 
 Clearly he believed that he had missed an oppor- 
 tunity. The rest of his life would be lived with 
 that memory to vex him. 
 
 " Never fear, if I know Del Hervalle and Pilon 
 there '11 be chances yet," said I. " I 'm glad there 's 
 nothing more to happen to-night, I 'm tired as a 
 dog." 
 
 Of the chances that were to come I spoke truly; 
 of the uneventfulness of the night, not so near the 
 truth. We came at last to the edge of the wood, 
 where it ^gave way before my lawn. Billy sent a 
 hail to the Baron, who had remained at the wharf,
 
 256 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 but there was no response, and so, agreeing with 
 Andrew's suggestion that he had probably walked 
 a little distance up the east beach and would pres- 
 ently return, we began the ascent of the slope. 
 The lighted windows would inform him of our 
 arrival. 
 
 " But I 'm hardly in a state to entertain visitors," 
 I said, " either the Baron or yourself. A bath, sup- 
 per, and bed for me." 
 
 " I '11 do the entertaining," Billy replied. " Who 
 is the German gentleman anyway?" 
 
 " Baron von Hussman. Of the army too, though 
 he has not committed himself as to his rank." I 
 described the circumstances of our meeting, en- 
 counter, and subsequent acquaintance. " So you 
 see that our friendship, if such it may be called, is 
 upon a conditional footing. He 's after the map ; 
 I am hiding it from him. Just as in the case of 
 Del Hervalle, while we play the game, we preserve 
 the outward amenities. And there are girls here," 
 I added maliciously. 
 
 He stopped dead v and when he spoke it was in an 
 aggrieved tone. 
 
 " Why the deuce do you want to spoil it with 
 girls?" 
 
 I laughed. " They are very nice girls." 
 
 "Of course. But this is a man's island and a 
 man's war. Girls ought to stay at home. They '11 
 get their skirts in the way and upset the fun." 
 
 " I think not."
 
 THE TEUTONIC METHOD 257 
 
 " Well, I know," he said with emphasis. " I Ve 
 experienced them of old." 
 
 " You need n't worry in Lavouche," I replied, 
 starting up the lawn. " Senor Del Hervalle will see 
 to that and besides they add a touch of color to 
 the war." 
 
 Not for a million diamonds would I have had 
 Betty away from Lavouche, not since I had learned 
 the interest my unknown fate had aroused in her. 
 Love could only have sent her worrying, scurrying 
 about the island and through the village with 
 Andrew in search of me. I wondered if at this 
 very minute she was not questioning the night of 
 my whereabouts. 
 
 Inside the house Andrew lighted a lamp and went 
 into the kitchen to cook my supper. Billy and I 
 stood before the fire warming our hands. 
 
 " This map has turned out to be something, after 
 all," he remarked. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Have you learned which particular fortress 
 it is?" 
 
 " No, Del Hervalle, the scoundrel, knows of 
 course, as he knew the facts of every affair in 
 which Douglass was mixed. But he declines to 
 tell." 
 
 " Well, we '11 have to find out." 
 
 " That will be difficult." 
 
 " When we Ve caught the Senor and tied him up, 
 we '11 see. I know a trick or two to make obstinate
 
 258 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 men talk." Billy spoke cold-bloodedly and business- 
 like. 
 
 " I '11 gladly assist you at the operation," I 
 stated. 
 
 He meditated for a moment. 
 
 " There 's no danger of his stealing the map, is 
 there?" 
 
 " Steal it, no. He has had his fingers within an 
 inch of it, so has the Baron, and neither ever 
 divined the fact." 
 
 " Then it must be well hid." 
 
 " Wait, I '11 show you." I fetched the tankard. 
 " There." 
 
 Billy looked at it with a puzzled eye. 
 
 "Inside?" 
 
 " Yes, inside." 
 
 I lifted the top to allow him to peer in. 
 
 " I see nothing but the bottom." 
 
 " Here, come across to the light." I set the tank- 
 ard upon the table. " See the small plug? That 
 holds a flat dish. You mistake it for the bottom, 
 even now with little wine over it. When it is filled, 
 you do not see it at all." 
 
 He straightened up. 
 
 " Fine ! Your friend, the Baron, would give a 
 thousand dollars to know that secret." 
 
 A quiet voice spoke from near by. 
 
 " I 'm afraid that you overstate the amount." 
 
 Just in front of the portieres which hung before 
 a door of a bedchamber stood the Baron himself.
 
 THE TEUTONIC METHOD 259 
 
 A smile was on his lips, a revolver in his hand. 
 Beside him was a second man, bearded, garbed in 
 yachting costume. He also pointed a revolver. 
 
 I began to believe with the Baron that the amount 
 which had been quoted was rather high.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 WANTED A FORTRESS 
 
 They advanced closer. 
 
 " Gentlemen, I must beg of you to make no re- 
 sistance, nor raise a cry," Von Hussman addressed 
 us, impressing his remarks with the point of the 
 pistol he carried ready. " It would be of no use in 
 any case. I shall take charge of the tankard, if you 
 please, and we will now go down to the beach. 
 Kindly give me your attention while I explain what 
 it is necessary to do; the dingey of my friend's 
 yacht is awaiting us a little way up from your wharf, 
 Mr. Woodworth, and we will proceed to it. On 
 the yacht we shall drop a few miles down the coast 
 and set you ashore, which will prevent you from 
 giving an immediate alarm and at the same time 
 enable us to put well out to sea. I regret that occa- 
 sion has arisen for making such a return for the 
 hospitality that I have enjoyed at Stag Lodge, but 
 circumstances often force us into an apparent dis- 
 courtesy. None is intended." He smiled quietly. 
 " As I say, resistance is useless. You, Mr. Wood- 
 worth, have become well enough acquainted with 
 me to know that in this matter I am in earnest; 
 I will if necessary shoot one of you, and my friend,
 
 WANTED A FORTRESS 261 
 
 Herr Amsen, will dispose of the other. We now 
 understand the affair and will go ahead. Mr. Wood- 
 worth, you will be so good as to carry the tankard 
 and I must insist that you make no effort to 
 shake out the dish which you have mentioned as 
 being in it." 
 
 He locked his arm in mine, his friend did the 
 same with Billy, and we walked through the door 
 and out into the night, I bearing a gift to the 
 Germans. 
 
 " With your permission, I would speak," said I. 
 
 " To be sure, there 's nothing to prevent conver- 
 sation," the Baron laughed. 
 
 But I was not in a laughing humor. Instead 
 I looked grimly at Billy, who was marching in 
 silence in the arm-grip of the sturdy, bearded 
 yachtsman. 
 
 " I desire only to remind my friend, Lieutenant 
 Harrington, of his recent remark in which he ex- 
 pressed a fear that he would have no chance for 
 fun." 
 
 Billy said nothing, neither did he look my way. 
 The Baron however was amused. 
 
 " And so Mr. Harrington is an officer," said he. 
 "In the American army, I suppose?" 
 
 " Quite right." 
 
 " That is good. I have the honor to fill an offi- 
 cer's rank in the army of my own country. While 
 we are sailing down the coast, he and I shall discuss 
 military subjects, shall we not, Lieutenant ? We '11
 
 262 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 have a famous discussion, in fact, one on the modern 
 theory of strategy." 
 
 " I fear that late practice would tell to your ad- 
 vantage, Baron," Billy retorted. 
 
 " Possibly. This evening, for example. The 
 maxim, Unexpected Attack in Superior Strength, 
 is still unassailable as a war measure." Decidedly 
 the Baron was amused. 
 
 We reached the wharf, turned north, and fol- 
 lowed up the beach a hundred yards to where we 
 came upon a boat. Two stout sailors, dressed in 
 blue uniforms, came smartly to attention as we 
 stopped. Amsen, who appeared to be both owner 
 and captain of the yacht for which we were bound, 
 assisted Billy into the boat, still keeping fast hold 
 upon his arm, while the Baron guided me to a seat 
 and dropped down by my side. The sailors pushed 
 off, sprang in, and seized their oars. 
 
 " You 're a little surprised at the turn of events, 
 my dear Woodworth," said my seat-mate. 
 
 " Oh, I knew you would spring some trick pretty 
 soon." 
 
 The Baron fingered his moustache, stroking its 
 ends upward complacently. 
 
 " I was really on my way to join Amsden at 
 Boston for a short cruise when I made your ac- 
 quaintance on the train. The map interested me, 
 so I dropped him a wire to hold up till he received 
 further word. That was a heavy check you gave 
 me over yonder, the evening of our coming."
 
 WANTED A FORTRESS 263 
 
 " You 're having your revenge now, Baron." 
 
 " Revenge, oh no. That blow did not rankle in 
 my heart; on the contrary, it aroused my respect. 
 It 's a solid fist you carry." 
 
 I moved the tankard on my lap. Disgust, not 
 wrath, filled me. To have such a tame and farcical 
 ending to the day, and to have it with this German 
 opponent after what I had been through with Seiior 
 Del Hervalle, drained me of anger. Once the no- 
 tion to fling the tankard into the sea flashed into 
 my mind; but the Baron's hand which held the 
 revolver rested in plain view upon his knee. It was 
 a very large revolver and a very businesslike one. 
 Furthermore, I consoled myself with the thought 
 that no harm would follow with the map in Von 
 Hussman's possession; he would probably destro)f 
 it or forward it to his government, where it would 
 be buried forever. It was by no manner of means 
 the same thing as if Senor Del Hervalle's fat little 
 fingers had got hold of it. So I mused and nursed 
 the tankard and thought of many things, among 
 them of the dead man lying on the sand by the 
 ghostly boats, and of Andrew rubbing his bewildered 
 head because Master Charles had again vanished and 
 that without eating his supper. 
 
 "And this yacht?" I inquired. 
 
 " Why, I had but to drop a wire from the rail- 
 way station for it to steam up here. It arrived last 
 night and lay off shore. In accordance with the 
 instructions given in my telegram Amsen put out
 
 264 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 at daybreak in a launch and met me up near the 
 lighthouse, whither I walked. There our plans to 
 co-operate were arranged." 
 
 " His then was the vessel's smoke I saw this morn- 
 ing," I said, a light breaking upon my mind. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " We 're certainly not rowing out that distance in 
 this fog!" 
 
 " By no means. Under cover of the mist he drew 
 in close to the island. The yacht is not over two 
 hundred yards off shore and we can't be far away 
 now." 
 
 Indeed, but a few minutes elapsed before a vague 
 shape loomed up, growing more distinct with every 
 pull of the oars. The sea was smooth, black, and 
 oily, and our boat rose and sank as each swell lifted 
 it and let it slide into a hollow. At last we were 
 close upon the craft. It was a trim steam yacht, 
 not large, though judging by its lines a fast sailer; 
 we came alongside and maneuvered to catch the 
 step let down for us. 
 
 " I will take the tankard," the Baron said sig- 
 nificantly. " I can't afford now to have it slip into 
 the sea." And it was his hand that carried it up 
 the ladder. 
 
 We were led immediately to Captain Amsen's 
 cabin, the captain lingering a moment to give a 
 few directions to the mate. Even as he joined 
 us and we sat down about the table we could 
 hear the steam winch dragging up the anchor and
 
 WANTED A FORTRESS 265 
 
 sailors' feet moving about the deck in obedience to 
 orders. 
 
 " It may interest you, Baron," I said, " to know 
 that you 've robbed me not only of my map but of 
 my supper. I don't know which is worse. But as 
 a prisoner of war I demand food under the humane 
 law of nations." 
 
 "By all means, you shall have it. Captain, will 
 you kindly have a steward bring sandwiches and 
 wine ? " 
 
 These were forthcoming. As I ate and Amsen 
 and Billy smoked, the Baron drew the dish from 
 the tankard. " Very ingeniously contrived," said 
 he. Then unscrewing the top and opening the bag, 
 he spread out the map upon the table, fastening its 
 corners with pins. Neither Amsen nor Billy made 
 any effort to examine the sheet, nor did he invite 
 them Germany's fortifications were not for gen- 
 eral inspection. 
 
 Presently a tremor ran through the yacht, the 
 screw was turning. In some thirty or forty minutes 
 Billy and I should be cast ashore to find ourselves 
 with a ten-mile walk home ahead of us ; what little 
 Esper would have called an excellent joke. And 
 while we trudged up the beach Amsen and the Baron 
 would be speeding eastward for the open sea; 
 for that matter, they could return with impunity to 
 Boston or to New York for all the harm we could 
 do them. Verily, if our tale were told it would be 
 only to make ourselves a laughing stock.
 
 266 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 Captain Amsen was a short, thick-set man, ruddy, 
 bearded, and with twinkling blue eyes. A glass of 
 whiskey and water sat before him, he puffed his 
 pipe methodically, while he watched me devour his 
 food. 
 
 " You look as if you had been in action, Mr. 
 Woodworth," he remarked finally. " One cheek is 
 covered with dried blood." 
 
 I had forgotten my appearance. 
 
 " Well, I have, captain. I was nearly killed by 
 a man just before meeting you and the Baron 
 your sandwiches are very good." 
 
 Von Hussman lifted his head smiling, believing 
 that I jested. But he perceived that I was in 
 earnest. 
 
 "You mean it, Woodworth?" he asked. 
 
 " Just that," said I. " Sefior Del Hervalle trapped 
 me in a house, kept me a prisoner all day, and 
 I only escaped after a knife reached a man's 
 heart." 
 
 Leaning an elbow upon the table, he listened. 
 That a map of one of his country's forts lay before 
 him passed for the time out of his mind. He bent 
 his eyes on me, scrutinizing my smeared face and 
 torn attire, then blew out a puff of the cigar he 
 smoked. 
 
 " And so that was why you were absent all day. 
 Sefior Del Hervalle appears to carry Venezuelan 
 methods with him wherever he goes." 
 
 " There you 're mistaken, Baron. Venezuela has
 
 WANTED A FORTRESS 267 
 
 nothing to teach Del Hervalle when it comes to 
 villainous tricks. On the other hand, I think that 
 the Senor has probably instructed his patron, El 
 Presidente, in a few of the finer subtleties of in- 
 trigue and treachery." 
 
 " At any rate, he stimulates my interest the more 
 I learn of him," he said. " I hope to become better 
 acquainted with him personally." 
 
 He touched a bell ; the steward again entered. 
 
 " Conduct this gentleman to a cabin and wash 
 and mend the cut on his head," he ordered. 
 
 Of this opportunity I took advantage. Dirt and 
 blood were removed, and the steward patched up 
 with strips of plaster the wound which I had received 
 in breaking the window. 
 
 When I returned, the Baron was again deep in 
 his study of the map, while Billy and the captain 
 were chatting amiably. They were discussing our 
 detention; Billy maintained that all the laws of 
 civilized warfare commanded that we should not be 
 set upon a barren beach in the middle of the night 
 and that so far as he was concerned he was com- 
 fortable and very well satisfied. Through the smoke 
 that rose from the china bowl of his pipe the cap- 
 tain's blue eyes twinkled. Prisoners were not sup- 
 posed to be allowed cabin privileges; if we were 
 carried until morning it would be necessary to place 
 us in irons. He had some very stout irons. 
 
 At this point in their bantering discussion the 
 Baron leaned back in his seat and remained with
 
 268 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 arms folded, thinking; for my part I was more 
 interested in what might be passing through his 
 brain than at what decision the debaters might 
 arrive. Now that he had seen the map, what 
 thoughts ran through his mind? Did he perhaps 
 recall in the diagram the very fortification which 
 it outlined ? Did he, now that all danger was passed, 
 pleasantly speculate on what might have happened 
 had the sheet fallen into England's or France's 
 hands? Or did his mind seek to guess the spot 
 where lay the treachery or carelessness which per- 
 mitted such a betrayal ? It seemed that he revolved 
 none of these questions in his mind, that instead he 
 had an ear for what was being spoken. 
 
 " It 's a pity, is it not, captain, that they must be 
 set ashore ? " he said. " On my side, I am for com- 
 pany. Time has been rather dull for me of late, 
 the days I 've spent in Lavouche ; Mr. Woodworth 
 was very considerate, but of course could not devote 
 all his leisure to a man who was seeking to despoil 
 him. As for the woman who kept the tavern, she 
 was busy with a stocking I used to crack my jaws 
 yawning. Here we are, all four; we could have a 
 very pleasant evening." 
 
 " I vote for it," Billy answered promptly. " Better 
 an enemy where cheer is, than a friend and ten 
 miles of beach." 
 
 Von Hussman turned to the captain. " We '11 
 run out a distance to sea," said he. 
 
 Amsen, who in the matter of the night's arrange-
 
 WANTED A FORTRESS 269 
 
 ments had placed himself and his yacht at his 
 friend's disposal, left the cabin to give the necessary 
 orders for the change. Well, I meditated, it mat- 
 tered little now whether I spent the night on land 
 or sea, since I would be far from Stag Lodge in 
 any case. As Billy had stated, we were very com- 
 fortable here ; only the thought of Andrew worrying 
 his old head disturbed me. I uttered my reflections 
 aloud. 
 
 " Andrew is a very good servant," the Baron said, 
 smiling. " He always brought me your own par- 
 ticular cigarettes or cigars when I called in your 
 absence. Not fetching him with us was an over- 
 sight on my part Andrew should have been made 
 a prisoner also. We will go back and get him." 
 
 "Go back!" 
 
 " Surely ; so long as we sail, does it make any 
 difference where? I '11 not let him worry his brain 
 any longer than is necessary." 
 
 " Baron, I rather like your free and easy style of 
 maneuvering," Billy said. 
 
 The steward was called, and this new request 
 transmitted to the captain. We could feel the yacht 
 swinging in a circle as the helm was put about; 
 if ever there was a curious voyage, this was the 
 one. Consider : a yacht putting back upon its course 
 in order that the body-servant of a prisoner which 
 it carried might not worry his head. The Baron 
 smoked and supped his wine. The map which he 
 had been so eager to obtain lay outspread upon the
 
 2 ;o THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 table. It was not to be wondered at that he was 
 in complacent spirits; mine were the opposite, for 
 my eyelids were heavy and my body was worn out. 
 If the Baron had made the proposition to land us 
 at Lavouche on the condition that we were not to 
 give notice of his kidnapping for a specified time, 
 I would have snapped at such an agreement; for I 
 wanted bed, and it was only by vigorous pulling at 
 my pipe that I kept my eyes open. 
 
 After a time Von Hussman said : 
 
 " Mr. Woodworth, I shall ask a favor of you. 
 This has been an odd affair and I am going to pre- 
 sume so far as to beg you to give me this tankard 
 as a souvenir." 
 
 I looked at the tankard. It was not particularly 
 valuable, and I had no especial desire to retain it. 
 
 " Take it," said I. " It 's part of the loot, and 
 Captain Amsen may keep the dish it held." 
 
 The captain, who had just entered and who stood 
 wiping the fine fog-moisture off his beard, stated 
 that he should indeed like to have the dish as a 
 souvenir of his visit to the little island of Lavouche ; 
 he had been several times about the world in his 
 yacht, yet remembered nothing in his sailing ad- 
 ventures so strange as what had now happened. 
 When he was far away, he would ocpasionally sit 
 of an evening and look at the dish and think how he 
 had committed two crimes at once, one by robbery 
 on land and the other by kidnapping at sea. 
 
 " And now what will our poor friend Sefior Del
 
 WANTED A FORTRESS 271 
 
 Hervalle do ; he who stirred up the little village by 
 the story that you were selling a map of a French 
 fort to that terrible German who did nothing in the 
 inn?" Von Hussman laughed. "All his thinking 
 and scheming to get the map has come to naught. 
 He will be rarely disappointed; he may even be 
 offended at you, Woodworth, for letting it slip." 
 
 " Oh, he '11 keep after me in any case. So far as 
 he 's concerned the map is an incidental matter now 
 of course he would like to have it but it 's my 
 life he 's after." 
 
 Half an hour later we heard the screw decrease 
 its revolutions until the yacht barely kept headway. 
 iWe had come once more to the island. The Baron 
 arose and folding the map motioned us to follow 
 him on deck, where we should wait while a boat 
 was lowered to find the yacht's relative position. So, 
 leaning on the rail, we watched the second officer 
 go with a pair of sailors out into the fog to locate 
 the beach; from time to time the yacht siren let 
 loose its bellow to keep them informed of our berth. 
 Overhead the rigging dripped, while beneath our 
 feet the wet deck shone from the cabin lights as if 
 it had been oiled, and the moon diffused as it had 
 done an hour before its strange golden light through 
 the fog. 
 
 All at once the Baron turned to me, smiling. 
 
 " My dear Woodworth, this has been an acquaint- 
 ance which I trust will not cease in the future. I 
 have just spent a month in Washington as a guest
 
 272 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 of the German Legation; I am now about to set 
 out on a short cruise with Amsen, thence to Berlin. 
 I shall mail you my address so that in case you are 
 in our capital you will give me opportunity to return 
 the favors I have received at your hands. My stay 
 at Lavouche I have enjoyed notwithstanding my 
 mind was not always at ease as to what would be 
 the final disposition of this map. So far as I am 
 concerned my solicitude ends when I return it to 
 your hands." And still smiling, he presented the 
 folded sheet to me. 
 
 " But but " I stammered. 
 
 " Why do I do this, is that what you would ask ? 
 Because, whatever fortress it is a map of, it is not 
 one of Germany's. I am in a position to know; I 
 was some time connected with the Empire's Gen- 
 eral Staff." 
 
 I looked at the map ; I stared at him. 
 
 "Then what fort is it?" 
 
 " Ah, that I don't know." 
 
 "If Douglass had only written the name! " I ex- 
 claimed in disappointment. 
 
 " Yes, it would have helped. Still there are some 
 things to be surmised; certain technical charac- 
 teristics exist in the methods and conceptions of each 
 country, as one might say, an individuality. For 
 instance, Germany does a thing one way, France in 
 another, Russia in still a third. The difference lies 
 in certain features which the untrained and unknow- 
 ing eye would never observe, but this difference is
 
 WANTED A FORTRESS 273 
 
 present just as there exists a fundamental difference 
 between the cheek bones of Slavs, Teutons, and 
 Latins." 
 
 " Well, what do the cheek bones of this map tell 
 you? " I asked. 
 
 " In the first place, that it 's not only not German 
 but not French." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Nor Russian, nor Austrian, nor English." 
 
 I looked at him. He still smiled. A jest seemed 
 hidden somewhere in his reply. 
 
 " That does n't leave much." 
 
 " Not much. The boat is awaiting you. Good- 
 bye, Woodworth; good-bye, Lieutenant, have your 
 government send you over as an attache I '11 keep 
 an eye out for you." He shook Billy's hands. " And 
 good-bye to you again, Woodworth. I '11 write. 
 Come over and visit me." 
 
 " But the map ! " I expostulated. " Is n't there a 
 fortress at all ? " 
 
 His smile grew broader than ever. 
 
 " If I were to guess," he answered, " I 'd say the 
 cheek bones are American. Let us hazard a further 
 speculation and say Western cheek bones." 
 
 "The devil!" 
 
 " Certainly. Perhaps I should have kept this 
 paper in case we should ever go to war with you, 
 but after all " he shook my hand again "I have 
 the tankard. I shall hold it up betimes and say, 
 * This once held an American fortress.' "
 
 274 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 I followed Billy down into the boat. We put off. 
 Still mute with amazement, clutching the map, ] 
 gazed back at the figure of the man who leaned upon 
 the rail and waved a hand after us and vanished with 
 the yacht in the fog.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 
 
 Excitement in Lavouche was intense. Not since 
 that day twenty years before when Ambrose Velais 
 had eloped to Quebec with Melinee's wife, and thence 
 none knew where, with Melinee after them, from 
 which pursuit none of the three ever returned, had 
 there been such a sensation in the little village and 
 on the island. To sell a French map to Germany 
 might be a felony ; this was a far graver affair, this 
 killing of a man. The narrative ran that I had 
 stolen into the village, having an appointment with 
 the German, at which time I was to turn over the 
 map for a large sum of gold; Esper following me 
 and also Descarte, and Pilon, who went another way 
 among the boats. The stranger and I had met on 
 the beach, we were concluding our transaction when 
 Esper and Descarte and Pilon, who had been ap- 
 pointed by the townsmen to observe us, to see that 
 no transaction was made, had run forward to stop 
 this perfidious bargaining away of France's honor. 
 The German and I had turned about and fought 
 them. Esper had been beaten off with a walking 
 stick, but I had stabbed Descarte with a knife. 
 Pilon, who had been behind the other, ran up like
 
 276 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 a hero; Descarte, whom until now none had liked, 
 had died for his native country. Such was the story. 
 Pilon told it with many a flourish of his moustache. 
 For did he not know the whole occurrence ? Truly. 
 Now, if Pilon had but been at the meeting in the 
 beginning he left it to be inferred what would 
 have happened, but at any rate whatever it was the 
 result would have been something different. Now 
 also look you, where was the German ? He had set- 
 tled his bill with madame, the inn-woman, and was 
 gone. 
 
 The corpse had lain on the sands till daybreak, 
 where the fishermen coming down to their boats 
 found it. At first they had perhaps imagined Pilon 
 or Esper to have stabbed Descarte in a drunken quar- 
 rel of their own. Such quarrels had been frequent. 
 Standing about the body, these tanned and sturdy 
 fishermen were at a loss to know what to do, con- 
 fused what move to make before this evidence of a 
 murder. Drowned men, men who lost their lives 
 by all the accidents of storm and tide, were common 
 to them; the deep demanded its toll and they ac- 
 cepted the fact with fishermen's philosophical remark, 
 Tiens, comme il faut, but this was something dif- 
 ferent. While they were engaged in grave specu- 
 lations, came to them Pilon and Esper. It was I 
 who had done the deed, I, Charles Woodworth. 
 Then the fishermen had looked even graver, for I was 
 another person from Pilon, whom they suspected. 
 
 " Thou liest," said Jean vehemently to them.
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 277 
 
 " It is so. Ask this Wood worth," Pilon ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 A number of the men raised the body; they car- 
 ried it in a sail up the street to Pilon's house, where 
 they laid it upon the table. At this unwonted sight 
 of their husbands and fathers returning when they 
 should by this time have been well out of The Throat 
 and on their way to the fishing grounds, wives and 
 children poured forth from doors. This happened 
 while yet day was in the foggy dawn. Many went 
 down again to look at the place where the struggle 
 had occurred; they pointed to the disturbed spot, 
 to dark stains on the sand; Esper's hat, which he 
 had lost while fleeing from me and the German was 
 found a confirmation of the tale. 
 
 Jean came to my house about eight o'clock. He 
 stood in grave silence for a moment holding his 
 sou'wester in his hand. 
 
 " Descarte was found dead among the boats this 
 morning," he said. " They say you killed him." 
 
 " I did not, Jean." 
 
 " Then it is a lie, as I said." 
 
 " Listen," said I ; and I told him the whole story. 
 
 Jean silently put out his brown hand to grip mine. 
 Here was another who would stand at my shoulder 
 through thick and thin, who knew I spoke the real 
 happening and would not fail me. 
 
 " That Esper, if he speak not the truth when the 
 time comes, I will settle with him," he said grimly. 
 
 On his discretion I could also depend. Until the
 
 278 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 proper minute arrived I would make no effort to 
 disabuse the village mind and no attempt to offer 
 a defense. To go about endeavoring to deny Pilon's 
 story would serve only to weaken my cause; when 
 I struck it must be hard, a final blow that should not 
 only clear myself of the charge of murder but es- 
 tablish my innocence of any wrong-doing so far as 
 France was concerned, and bring Del Hervalle, the 
 chief conspirator, to his knees. As far as the map 
 was concerned, the word of Billy Harrington would 
 serve to vouch for me; in the matter of proving 
 Del Hervalle's complicity and guilt in seeking to end 
 my life, if I could not hold that tricky rascal Esper 
 to a straight path I foresaw dangerous reefs ahead. 
 That little twisted- faced wretch! He would un- 
 doubtedly tell the story that would earn him the 
 most money. 
 
 However much I might ignore the gossip of the 
 villagers, I could not ignore the fact that I would 
 have the charge of murder to meet. Therefore I 
 determined to show that I was ready. Accompanied 
 by Jean and Billy, I set out for Lavouche. The fog 
 still persisted, heavier than it had been the previous 
 night, and every twig, branch, and bough dripped 
 with moisture; grass was wet, bushes were satur- 
 ated, tree-trunks sodden; the sea flowed in vague 
 dark waves and a little way out was lost to sight 
 under its gray pall. The beach was dismal; the 
 line of drift sticks, small shells, dead submarine 
 insects and molluscs, strings of weed which under
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 279 
 
 a bright sun afforded a curious and colored assort- 
 ment of sea objects, now only appeared as worthless, 
 decayed refuse rejected by the ocean. Altogether 
 the morning was depressing. 
 
 At the spot where I had fought and killed Des- 
 carte there yet lingered a few persons held by mor- 
 bid interest two or three men, half a dozen 
 women, and a scattering of children. Past them we 
 strode without a word, as we passed others who 
 stood in the street or at doors. The men maintained 
 a serious expression while speaking to me; the 
 women for the most part however stared or pre- 
 tended not to observe us, some plainly turning their 
 backs. At the inn window I perceived madame in 
 her accustomed place knitting her yarn. She too 
 beheld us passing, for she held up a finger for us 
 to stop. Standing in the door, she said: 
 
 " You have murdered a good customer of mine, 
 it seems," said she. 
 
 Even she a fact which I had never suspected 
 possible could be curious. 
 
 " Possibly," said I. 
 
 " Ah, and only yesterday I was serving him 
 brandy, with Pilon and Esper." 
 
 " Well, you '11 not serve him any more," said I, 
 not pleased at her apparent cupidity. Her dirty- 
 faced, tousle-headed little scullion was also looking 
 at me around her skirt, his tongue licking the corner 
 of his mouth. 
 
 "Ah, Monsieur Charles, you will be tried and
 
 28o THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 perhaps hung like any other criminal," she went 
 on, while her eyes were fixed upon me unblinking. 
 
 " There is that possibility also." 
 
 " That is true, very true. Much talk also will 
 there be at the inquest. Pilon will talk and Esper 
 will talk and Surcon will talk and old Gaspard will 
 talk for he, above all others, could not live and 
 not talk on such a day and monsieur will talk, 
 and perhaps some more. We shall see what we see 
 and hear what we hear." 
 
 " You speak with great wisdom, madame, as 
 ever," I answered dryly. And we went on up the 
 street to the mayor's home. 
 
 Surgon was at home, and with him three or four 
 of the elder fishermen with whom he was in the 
 habit of consulting when the solution of an affair 
 was not easy. What was to be done with me was 
 the question under discussion ; county officers would 
 of course take charge of the affair as soon as they 
 were notified, but until a warrant was sworn out 
 for my arrest and the sheriff arrived, what was to 
 be done? Pilon had offered to make the formal 
 charge. But in the mean time? Whether I would 
 flee or remain, and if remaining fight, and if fighting 
 kill more men of Lavouche? It was at this point 
 in the discussion that we entered the room where 
 they had convened. Surcon with naive frankness 
 informed us what agitated their minds; now that 
 I was here I could tell them which of the afore- 
 mentioned courses I should follow. When there-
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 281 
 
 fore I stated that I intended neither to run nor 
 to fight, he declared that that was indeed well; that 
 though I had perhaps committed a murder, I was 
 yet a gentleman; and that Lavouche would appre- 
 ciate my acquiescence in taking a sensible course 
 in a difficult matter. To my statement that I was 
 ready for an investigation, and would let the village 
 conduct an examination at the coroner's inquest if 
 they so desired, they expressed surprise, considered 
 the subject at some length, and finally pronounced 
 it good. The mayor by virtue of his office had the 
 right, if indeed he were not so compelled, to make 
 inquiry into drownings, arsons, thefts, assaults, slan- 
 ders, perjuries, accidents, births, wrecks, deaths of 
 all kinds, murders, marriages, sickness, drunkenness, 
 poverty, quarrels, village taxes, and whatsoever con- 
 cerned the welfare of Lavouche. 
 
 These and all things, it was agreed, came within 
 the province of the mayor to examine; an inquiry 
 into Descarte's death would therefore be both well 
 and wise; while old Gaspard's boat-shop, the largest 
 room in the village, would be the place to hold the 
 investigation. There all could be present, for it was 
 good public policy that all should be admitted. And 
 so, when I answered that the sooner it was con- 
 ducted the better it would suit me, two o'clock was 
 decided upon by the counselors. 
 
 As I and my two companions returned down the 
 village, we encountered Pilon holding forth to a 
 group of men and women. I was a scoundrel who
 
 282 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 should be hung and given to the crows, said Pilon, 
 who in the ardor of his speech failed to perceive that 
 we had halted upon the edge of the little crowd. 
 For I had slain Descarte by a cowardly blow in the 
 back that was God's truth. Pilon fiercely stroked 
 his moustache. Yes, I should be hung and the crows 
 allowed to pick my bones ! Was that not so, Esper ? 
 Esper scratched his nose and observing me smiled 
 his furtive smile. That might be possible, remarked 
 Esper, but also it might not be possible the out- 
 come was yet to be seen, it depended somewhat upon 
 certain matters. Yet it might not be inadvisable to 
 ask monsieur himself. Pilon thus apprised of my 
 presence swung about, glaring at me, and uttered an 
 insolent curse, but did not ask the question. There 
 were three in our party while he had only Esper 
 as an ally. So after a moment we passed on 
 to the end of the street, where Jean separated 
 from us. 
 
 Stevens, the servant by whose hand I had been 
 captured on my first visit to Moore House, was the 
 only person visible when Harrington and I emerged 
 from the wood upon the pleasant lawn of that dwell- 
 ing. Engaged in thought, he did not at first see us, 
 but presently touched his hat. There was something 
 behind his customary deference; I detected a sup- 
 pressed and hesitating eagerness which well-trained 
 servants are generally supposed not to experience or 
 at least not to display. Finally he addressed me : 
 
 "Begging your pardon, Mr. Woodworth, I'd
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 283 
 
 like to consult you. Perhaps I should not mention 
 this, sir, but I know you are somewhat mixed up 
 in the affairs of Senor Del Hervalle. You '11 possi- 
 bly remember that you once asked me to keep an 
 eye on Senor Del Hervalle. It was upon the night 
 we caught you for a thief and when the Senor 
 recognized you first shot, but said he did n't. Well, 
 later Miss Elizabeth gave me a bit of money also and 
 asked me to let her know if Senor Del Hervalle did 
 anything out of the ordinary. * Not usual to spy 
 on guests, Stevens/ says she, ' but the Senor is not 
 a usual guest,' and therefore, Mr. Woodworth, when- 
 ever my time was not occupied I kept an eye on both 
 the Senor and his secretary. Not until this morn- 
 ing did I notice anything strange. Then I saw the 
 Senor and Mr. Davis go, when they thought no one 
 observed them, with a load of baggage along the 
 path that leads to the north point of the island." 
 
 " The north point ! What were they doing 
 there ? " I exclaimed. 
 
 " That was exactly what I wanted to know, so 
 I followed hiding behind bushes. I beheld a sail- 
 boat drawn up on the beach above high-tide, in 
 which they placed their things. It is an out-of-way 
 spot, sir, no one will be going that way for some 
 time." 
 
 " And what do you make of this, Stevens ? " 
 
 A twinkle came into the man's eye. " When lug- 
 gage is moved to a boat, sir, it is generally for the 
 purpose of making a voyage."
 
 284 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " So Sefior Del Hervalle and Mr. Davis are de- 
 parting and surreptitiously. We must keep watch 
 you did entirely right in informing me ; from now 
 on, for the rest of this day especially, they must be 
 watched. Did you know, Stevens, that I had com- 
 mitted a murder ? " 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " So Sefior Del Hervalle says. That is one of 
 the new matters of difference between that gentle- 
 man and me. You '11 hear all about it in the vil- 
 lage this afternoon if you are there, and I want you 
 as a witness. Keep near the Sefior and do what I 
 tell you. Is that clear?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Also obey anything this gentleman with me or- 
 ders Lieutenant Harrington, who is my friend." 
 
 "I'll do so, Mr. Woodworth." Then with a 
 grin, "I I hope something will happen. It 's 
 been dull since our tumble here that night on the 
 lawn." 
 
 His face was honest, shrewd, humorous, eager; 
 he eyed me respectfully, but also with something 
 more than respect, friendliness. 
 
 " It 's my opinion, Stevens, that something will 
 happen to fulfill your wish. Keep close to the 
 Sefior in any event." 
 
 Billy remained chatting with him, while I made 
 my way into the house. Mr. Moore and Sefior Del 
 Hervalle were engaged, but the latter, together with 
 his secretary, presently came forth from the library,
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 285 
 
 greeting me politely though passing on without 
 pause. When I found myself alone with Mr. Moore, 
 I went at my tale without preface or preliminaries. 
 I had drawn him as far as possible into a window 
 recess, where I poured out without reservation the 
 history of Sefior Del Hervalle as I knew it, from 
 the time of his appearance in Forge up till the 
 present moment. Perfect as was his self-possession, 
 it gradually gave way to intense interest. At its 
 conclusion he said: 
 
 " Either Senor Del Hervalle is the greatest of 
 scoundrels or you are mad, Charles." 
 
 " Incredible as it may seem, Mr. Moore, it 's the 
 truth. Mr. Fenton and Jack Maitland can and will 
 identify him for D'Urville, the man of Forge and 
 an unprincipled villain ; so far as concerns the affair 
 since it has progressed on this island, the proof I 
 bring is slender. But it is proof nevertheless. 
 Stevens, your own servant, can testify that your 
 guest recognized me the first night he laid eyes on 
 me here in your house ; Betty suspects him ; Andrew 
 will tell you how the envoy attempted to force him 
 at the point of a pistol to disclose the hiding place 
 of the map; Harrington, my friend, will state that 
 he heard me shouting from the window of the house 
 where I was kept prisoner in the village ; more than 
 one villager in fact could inform you, did we but 
 lay hands on the right ones, that Del Hervalle has 
 entered Pilon's house and is a familiar in it. And 
 finally Betty it was who conveyed to me the warn-
 
 286 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 ing given by Margot, who is on friendly terms with" 
 Senor Del Hervalle's secretary." 
 
 " I alone seem to know nothing of what has been 
 going on." 
 
 " Naturally, Mr. Moore. In your mind more than 
 any one else's Del Hervalle must keep himself free 
 of suspicion." 
 
 " It 's certainly a grave affair, with many com- 
 plications." 
 
 " He 's an envoy, that 's true, but is he not 
 amenable to punishment ? " 
 
 " Our government must proceed delicately." 
 
 " Diplomacy of course must be served and its 
 forms observed," I said dryly. " The attempted 
 murder of a private American citizen should not, 
 I admit, be allowed to interfere with the smooth 
 workings of the State Department." 
 
 He colored slightly. " You do me an injustice, 
 Charles, for I and the government I represent would 
 be as quick to act for the protection of one of its 
 citizens, even against a whole foreign power, as it 
 would be for its own honor. On the other hand, 
 I cannot permit Senor Del Hervalle to be seized and 
 cast a prisoner into the coal-cellar on the spur of 
 the minute. Once Mr. Fenton and Mr. Maitland are 
 here to lend their added evidence to yours, then w r e 
 can act, and even so there will be formalities of 
 procedure." 
 
 " Great heavens, formalities ! " I cried. " Senor 
 Del Hervalle was not encumbered with formalities
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 287 
 
 when he trussed me up in the house yonder in the 
 village." 
 
 " Well, what do you suggest? " 
 
 " Exactly what you mentioned. Put him in the 
 coal-cellar until the proper officers arrive." 
 
 " And outrage every nation in South America. 
 Even if he be a murderer, the fact remains that 
 he 's an envoy, the representative of a foreign 
 country." 
 
 " Then he is to walk away unpunished ? " 
 
 " No, I shall telegraph the particulars to Wash- 
 ington and request advice and on your single un- 
 supported word that is going far." 
 
 " I see that I '11 have to take the settlement of his 
 crimes into my own hands," I answered with 
 chagrin. 
 
 "If " he began, but paused. 
 
 "What?" I asked. 
 
 " Seiior Del Hervalle might become a guest at 
 your house for a week." 
 
 His words made me stare, then I caught the 
 suggestion. 
 
 " By Jove ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Which would enable everything to be investi- 
 gated and certain necessary preliminaries arranged, 
 depending of course upon the fact that additional 
 evidence was produced." 
 
 " It will be forthcoming, it will be forthcoming, 
 never fear," I stated heartily, full of new hope. 
 
 " But in the interim I must know nothing of
 
 288 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 his visit to you. This is purely a hypothetical 
 conjecture." 
 
 " Certainly hypothetical let it be." 
 
 He put out his hand, and I gripped it. 
 
 " It is incredible, your story," he said with feeling. 
 " But and I tell you this in confidence I 've not 
 been blind to Senor Del Hervalle ; many things have 
 passed not unobserved by me, but I never dreamt 
 that such infamy was possible. Get your evidence 
 together, otherwise you 're ruined if you act against 
 him." 
 
 " I 'm ruined either way," said I grimly, " if I 
 don't finish him now I '11 be ruined and possibly 
 killed if he goes away from Lavouche free. I 'm in 
 a narrow strait and will not hesitate to go pretty far, 
 and now I have but one thing to ask of you insist 
 that he be present at my trial. It 's my opinion 
 he '11 want to attend without urging, in order to 
 hearten up his villains to their work. But should he 
 hesitate insist." 
 
 " I will insist/' said he with a smile. 
 
 Then I brought up another subject, Betty. I 
 related the circumstances of our love for each other 
 and begged his consent, which he gave readily. In- 
 deed, he stated that it had been the hope of my 
 father and himself that our families might be united 
 through their children. Whatever was Betty's will 
 should be his and all he desired was her happiness. 
 
 " But you 're in the frying-pan at present, that 's 
 certain," he went on, " with this murder charge
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 289 
 
 hanging over you and with your other troubles. 
 I '11 be on hand to help you this afternoon, and in 
 the mean time I '11 send off some telegrams about 
 the affair." 
 
 When I returned to the lawn, I perceived Billy 
 in lively conversation with Betty and Muriel, and 
 if his manner was a token of his feelings he experi- 
 enced no great regret that the island of Lavouche 
 was inhabited by such lovely beings. But then, as 
 I afterwards had occasion to learn, the dissatis- 
 faction which he had so often expressed at finding 
 himself in feminine society was to be accepted with 
 a very large pinch of salt. He had introduced him- 
 self to them as my guest and friend and had already 
 made good progress. 
 
 " Here 's a gentleman for you to take lessons 
 from," Muriel exclaimed when I joined them. 
 " Fifteen minutes ago we did not know each other, 
 now we 've arranged for a sail, a fishing, an ex- 
 cursion to the lighthouse, and an exploration in the 
 wood, a was n't there something else, Mr. 
 Harrington? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, a clam party, a dinner at the inn, 
 and a dance at Stag Lodge." 
 
 " There, that 's something like," said she with 
 satisfaction. " Mr. Harrington is a man of ideas 
 and gallantry. Now consider, Charles Woodworth, 
 the little you 've done to keep us amused and the 
 much you Ve neglected to do. With all the oppor- 
 tunities "
 
 290 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 I lifted a protesting hand. 
 
 "What's the army for, if not to be the slaves 
 of beautiful ladies? We poor civilians have not the 
 training in that audacity which is part of the edu- 
 cation of the military. Now I 've heard Billy state, 
 speaking of young ladies and islands "I paused. 
 
 " Stop ! Utter a single word and we become 
 enemies," he said. 
 
 " I '11 never believe it anyway," Muriel inter- 
 jected, " and it will be a long time too before I 
 forgive you, Charlie, for your inattention and lack 
 of entertainment." 
 
 I bowed with mock humility. 
 
 " Seldom or never do I waste my time in trivial 
 amusements for my friends," I replied. " It has 
 always been my ambition to imitate the Caesars and 
 entertain them upon a grand scale. During all of 
 this time, my dear young lady, I 've been preparing 
 something which will afford you nothing less than 
 an exciting spectacle. At two o'clock this afternoon 
 in the village " 
 
 Betty, who had been standing by, half listening, 
 half abstracted, sprang suddenly forward and laid 
 her hand on my arm. 
 
 " Charlie, Charlie, don't speak so, it 's dreadful. 
 Andrew came and told me all early this morning. 
 I can't bear to think of it ! " 
 
 Muriel gazed with large eyes. 
 
 "What is it? What has happened?" she cried. 
 
 Hardly I heard her, for Betty's blue eyes, alarmed,
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 291 
 
 fearful, held mine and my attention. What is so 
 sweet in all the world as the concern of the woman 
 who loves you! I could feel her hand tremble on 
 my sleeve. 
 
 " Never fear," I said cheerily. " I '11 come out 
 on top of the heap." 
 
 "But what is it?" Muriel repeated in bewilder- 
 ment ; then turning to Billy, said, " Mr. Harrington, 
 if you don't tell me what all this mystery is, I '11 
 do something desperate." 
 
 Harrington was embarrassed; he looked at me, 
 at the wood, at Muriel. 
 
 " Go ahead, Billy," I said. 
 
 " Well, the entertainment which Woodworth has 
 prepared for your delectation," he explained, " is a 
 murder investigation in which he figures as the 
 murderer. Perhaps, Miss Muriel, I on my part shall 
 later succeed in producing a thriller." 
 
 She shot a lightning flash of her eyes at him. 
 Next it appeared as if a shower of tears would 
 follow. 
 
 " And I 've talked so horrid about you while you 
 were in trouble. Oh, forgive me, Mr. Woodworth. 
 Why will my tongue always chatter ! " 
 
 Her penitence was genuine. I told her I liked 
 what she called her " chatter," and gradually she 
 was comforted. But for Billy she seemed to retain 
 a spark of resentment; he had spoken lightly of my 
 trouble and she would forgive neither herself nor 
 him. I was a noble man, she said, to bear her
 
 292 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 gibes when she rattled on thoughtlessly, but Billy 
 Harrington to get so far as " Billy " even when 
 uttered in indignation was proceeding famously. 
 
 " Come, it 's a foggy morning. Let 's you, I, and 
 the weather weep together," Billy said pleasantly. 
 
 " You you awful man! " she gasped. 
 
 Betty drew me a little way on one side. 
 
 " I shall come," she said firmly. " I shall come 
 and stand up before them all and tell them you are 
 innocent. The cowards to try to kill you! To tie 
 you up and murder you! I shudder when I think 
 of it! Andrew informed me of all that happened, 
 and though I 'm only a girl I gloried in you when 
 he told how you escaped and fought that terrible 
 fight on the sands. Oh, I was sick at heart to re- 
 member that I went up the street, looking every- 
 where while you were standing before the window 
 a prisoner. Had I known, I 'd have torn down the 
 walls with my hands. And now that I have you, 
 they shall do you no further harm ! " 
 
 " God will see to that," said I, and to the as- 
 tonishment of the other two I drew her into my arms 
 and kissed her. What cared we for others, Betty 
 and I, since our hearts were united ? 
 
 " Betty Moore ! And you never told me ! " 
 Muriel cried, then ran and kissed her, which is 
 one way women express emotion. 
 
 Billy clasped my hand, gripping it hard. 
 
 " Win a fight one day and the girl you love the 
 next, that 's luck to the limit," he whispered.
 
 LAVOUCHE CEASES TO FISH 293 
 
 They were not the only observers of the little 
 scene, for at that moment Senor Del Hervalle 
 chanced to stroll out from the house. He hurried 
 forward, both hands extended, face beaming with 
 ineffable joy. 
 
 " Your happiness is mine,'' he said. " Youth 
 and beauty, it is what the world loves to see and 
 lovers! I give you a thousand wishes for a happy 
 future." His fingers pressed ours affectionately 
 I saw a little shudder pass over Betty. " It is a day 
 to remember ; may every joy continue as yours, Miss 
 Elizabeth, forever. My dear Charles, I can scarcely 
 express my delight at your good fortune, mon Dieu, 
 no!" 
 
 " I know your sentiments are sincere," said I 
 shortly. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; you are young, strong, wealthy, fortu- 
 nate. Your days will be long, my son, and I shall 
 think of you with great happiness. Would that I 
 had such a son, would that I had had such a daugh- 
 ter! I am touched, enchanted." 
 
 My emotion at this splendid exhibition of friend- 
 ship was too great for reply. I could only gaze 
 dumbly at those shining eyes, that benevolent brow, 
 that round, uplifted, glorified face.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A SHOT IN THE WOOD 
 
 At one o'clock that day D'Urville struck his last 
 blow at my life. The miscarriage of his plot of the 
 previous night and the knowledge I had of the 
 character of this enemy should, now that the hour 
 had come when my fate was to be decided by the 
 village, have kept me more than ever upon my 
 guard; lulled however by the belief that he would 
 leave my affair to the judgment of the fishermen, 
 that he would confidently think to swear me into 
 guilt by a chain of perjury, I relaxed caution. One 
 o'clock one hour until the assemblage of Lavouche 
 in old Gaspard's boat-shop surely I could feel 
 myself safe for that interval! Yet it would have 
 been simple, had I reasoned the matter, to know 
 that the Frenchman could feel his situation naught 
 but desperate. Swear me into a murder he might, 
 make out Descarte a hero perhaps, but during the 
 process of investigation might I not bring forth a 
 damaging tale of D'Urville himself ? I should have 
 remembered the character of the man, I have said; 
 he was not the one to leave any affair of his to 
 public arbitrament; that were to leave it to chance, 
 and in such a matter chance should be excluded.
 
 A SHOT IN THE WOOD 295 
 
 It was at one o'clock then that I was walking 
 back and forth upon the lawn with Andrew. His 
 fond hope to see me the betrothed of Elizabeth had 
 at last been realized ; when I had told him the news, 
 it was a joy to see the bloom of happiness that came 
 upon his cheek. We were speaking of the event. 
 To him almost I would have spoken my innermost 
 thoughts as to a father. We entered a little way 
 upon the path where that morning I had met Betty. 
 I pointed a ringer up its alley and turned to him. 
 Suddenly he halted abruptly in the words of satis- 
 faction which he uttered, half lifted a hand, startled, 
 then with a loud cry he flung himself as a shield 
 before my body. 
 
 " The Frenchman " 
 
 His words were never finished. A shot rang 
 through the wood, clear, loud, vindictive, and 
 Andrew caught his breath with a sobbing gasp. 
 Whirling about, I had an instant vision of a man's 
 figure, the flutter of a coat skirt, then nothing was 
 to be seen. Andrew stood with his hand to his 
 left breast, blood slipping between his fingers. 
 
 " I am hit, Master Charles," he said with pale lips. 
 
 He began to sway. Catching his form in my 
 arms, I lowered him tenderly to the ground. Horror 
 filled my mind, horror and an immense disbelief that 
 what happened could be true. Andrew shot; good, 
 faithful, innocent Andrew, who had fearlessly flung 
 himself forward to protect me! I took a few rapid 
 steps to pursue the villain who had fired this
 
 296 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 assassin's shot from ambush; then the thought that 
 my good friend, my old companion, was perhaps 
 losing his life's blood overwhelmed me. I fell on 
 my knees by his side, I sought to staunch the welling 
 blood with my handkerchief. Oh that this faithful 
 servitor should suffer for my quarrel ! Then a rage 
 of murder filled my heart. Let what might happen, 
 I should kill D'Urville, if it were with my last 
 breath. Beside Andrew's unconscious body under 
 the green boughs where the sunlight played hide 
 and seek, and with the restored silence all about us, 
 I swore it looking up to heaven. 
 
 Harrington had heard the shot as he sat upon 
 the veranda. Casting aside his magazine, he leaped 
 upon the turf and raced to me, shouting. In a few 
 swift words I explained what had happened; as 
 swiftly he opened the old man's clothes and made 
 an examination. Truly the army trains men to cope 
 with emergencies. 
 
 " We must take him into the house and to bed," 
 he said. " Through the lung a dangerous wound. 
 A surgeon must be had at once. He has half a 
 chance." 
 
 Into the Lodge therefore we bore Andrew, with 
 as little physical jar as might be. My guest brought 
 into operation his knowledge of " first aid " to stop 
 the hemorrhage and succeeded finally in checking the 
 flow of blood. With each succeeding minute my 
 cold rage against Del Hervalle grew, my passion 
 to revenge the wanton crime darkened. Time
 
 A SHOT IN THE WOOD 297 
 
 seemed to fly. At last I must go to the village, for 
 the clock was hard on two, and with a last look at 
 the white face, white now as the disordered hair 
 above it, which lay upon the pillow, with a final grip 
 of the hand from Billy, who remained, I placed 
 my hat on my head and set out for Lavouche. 
 Through the wood I strode, now knowing no fear. 
 Something told me I was not to fall by a hidden 
 blow, and had I sighted the man who had committed 
 that outrage against my servant I would have throt- 
 tled him without mercy or compunction. Past tree, 
 bush, and vine I went, yesterday so light with happi- 
 ness, now heavy with the tragedy in which they 
 were shrouded. No bird notes fell in music through 
 the branches; as if to typify the mood in men's 
 minds, the fog spread its darkening veil, trees 
 dripped, and all was somber. 
 
 When I emerged from the wood and walked up 
 the hundred yards or so of sands to the village, I 
 perceived the shadowy forms of the boats standing 
 where they had rested since the previous evening. 
 What an age had passed since the few hours back 
 when I looked into the blazing eyes of Descarte 
 seeking my life there among their inanimate hulls! 
 Like a hideous nightmare the memory of that 
 struggle assailed me. One instant he had been alive, 
 vicious, powerful, strangling the breath in my 
 throat, next he lay an inert sprawling mass at which 
 Esper and I stared unbelieving. The tide was now 
 out. The Throat displayed its empty stretch of
 
 298 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 sands, here and there a nearer pool faintly visible, 
 the others hidden in fog; overhead and unseen 
 wheeled a few gulls squalling their raucous, mourn- 
 ful cries; while strong in my nostrils was the scent 
 of brine and sea. A sense of loneliness, of weari- 
 ness, of desolation came over me. All the world 
 seemed barren and life a useless struggle, man some- 
 how caught in a mesh of Fate from which there 
 was no escape. 
 
 Awaiting me some distance nearer the village was 
 that good friend Jean. His face was sober, but his 
 greeting sincere, which was all that I cared for, 
 and when he clapped me on the shoulder while 
 asking how I was, it was with a smile. My news 
 dum founded him. 
 
 " Andrew shot ! " 
 
 " Through the lung it is serious. You must 
 find some one, Jean, to go to the railway station 
 with a message for a doctor, some one who is trust- 
 worthy, who is intelligent enough to spur the oper- 
 ator to instant action and to see that the telegram is 
 sent." 
 
 " Wait here," said he, and hurried away. 
 
 While I bided his return I wrote the message on 
 a leaf of my notebook to a banker in Bangor with 
 whom my father had formerly conducted certain 
 business while spending summers here on the island. 
 Urgency was essential, I stated, at the same time 
 ordering him to hire a special train or fast tug. 
 The telegram finished, I could only think of poor
 
 A SHOT IN THE WOOD 299 
 
 Andrew and pray that a surgeon might come 
 speedily. A moment later Jean's shape took form 
 out of the fog and with it that of Louis Milan, a 
 sturdy youth of quick wit. Him I bid run all the 
 way to the railroad station. Could he do it ? Louis 
 laughed; two miles was nothing. I placed money 
 in his hand. How soon could he reach the station? 
 In twenty-five minutes of hard running. Then I 
 told him twenty dollars should be his reward, did 
 he do so. He opened his eyes wide. 
 
 " I will reach it in but twenty minutes," he cried, 
 " but I am sorry to miss the investigation." 
 
 Instantly clutching the paper, he darted out across 
 the sands of The Throat and disappeared. That 
 much was accomplished. 
 
 " And now, Jean ? " I said. 
 
 "Lavouche is assembled and awaits you. I told 
 Surgon the mayor that you were come and desired 
 a few minutes to review in private the defense you 
 would make." And Jean smiled ironically. 
 
 " Is Sefior Del Hervalle in attendance ? " 
 
 " He is present. Also Pilon, Esper, and every 
 living thing upon the isle of Lavouche, save you and 
 I and the crows." 
 
 " What of Esper ? " I inquired anxiously. 
 
 " At noon I pulled him by the sleeve, ' What will 
 thy tale be ? ' I asked. ' The tale Sefior Del Her- 
 valle invented for you, or the truth ? ' He looked 
 down his nose. * Sefior Del Hervalle has paid some- 
 thing, not so much as he should, but something. He
 
 300 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 is a very hard orange to squeeze.' ' How much, 
 little rogue?' I asked. ' Peste, only a little three 
 hundred.' Then I said, ' You have taken blood 
 money. If you utter not the truth when the proper 
 time comes to speak, I, Jean, will kill you.' I caught 
 him by the throat, turning up his chin with my 
 thumb, so that his eyes looked into mine and not 
 down his nose. ' I, Jean, will slay you immediately.' 
 But he did not say what he would speak ; probably 
 I shall have to kill him." 
 
 Jean spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. There was 
 no doubt in my mind but that Esper was slated for 
 death if he mouthed Del Hervalle's invention. Little 
 Esper as well as myself, it seemed, was in a pre- 
 dicament. On the one hand were Del Hervalle and 
 Pilon, who would stop at nothing to revenge them- 
 selves if he convicted them of a conspiracy; on the 
 other, were Jean and I, who if he did not would 
 cut short his career. It was with a sinking heart 
 that I heard Jean's news. The little villain had sold 
 himself for three hundred dollars, undoubtedly rea- 
 soning that while death was a certainty from his 
 employer and his companion, it was only a danger- 
 ous probability from Jean and myself. 
 
 " Things look bad for me, Jean, unless "I 
 stopped. 
 
 "Unless what, Charles?" 
 
 " I was going to say, unless Heaven intercedes." 
 
 " What Heaven will do is not known," he replied 
 grimly. " I however am here."
 
 A SHOT IN THE WOOD 301 
 
 " Ah, Jean, you are in truth a friend in need." 
 
 " Were we not the same as brothers when we 
 played in this sand ? " He spoke with a lofty 
 severity and moved his hand in an embracing ges- 
 ture. " Did we not sail together, divide our bread 
 between us, share our joys and our sorrows? 
 Wherefore should I draw away now? I know that 
 you are innocent." 
 
 Noble as I knew him to be, this implicit trust, 
 this unquestioning loyalty, affected me as nothing 
 else at the moment could have done. It was as if 
 the sun had burst through the clouds and driven 
 them away; the depression which had rested upon 
 my spirits vanished and I was my confident self 
 again. Of all the village, save old Gaspard and 
 one other whom I knew not of but who was soon 
 to step forth, he was the one person to stand by 
 me unswervingly. 
 
 " You 're worth a thousand," I said. " Come, let 
 us proceed with the business and get it over." 
 
 It would be foolish to say that I was not wrought 
 up at what lay before me. Outwardly my friends 
 tell me I appeared calm, but let any man stand 
 where I stood and his nerves would be on edge, his 
 mind tense. Fear had nothing to do with it, my 
 conscience was clear; yet to be on trial, informal 
 and unofficial as it was, to have one's honor and 
 integrity at stake, to face an overwhelming fabri- 
 cation of evidence, to know that perjured testimony 
 would convict you, that your defense was as slender
 
 3 02 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 and incredible as a mirage, that condemnation here 
 meant arrest and trial by constituted authority later 
 on, which meant in turn to have your name ring 
 over the country as a monster of iniquity to know 
 all this when at the same time knowing your inno- 
 cence was enough to set anxiety heavy on one's 
 head. Men walk to the tribunal with cool pulses, 
 we read, but if their situation be desperate I doubt 
 it. And to my own worries was added that of 
 Andrew. How did he fare, I asked myself over and 
 over, did he yet hold to life? 
 
 As has already been stated, old Gaspard's house 
 was at the end of the street, the entire lower floor 
 comprising one room in which he conducted his 
 business of making and mending boats. Since it 
 was the largest room in the village, it had been 
 chosen, as was commonly the case for all communal 
 meetings, as the place in which to make the in- 
 vestigation into Descarte's death and my alleged 
 crime. In length the boat-shop was some fifty or 
 sixty feet, in width half as much, into which space 
 I perceived upon arriving that most of the village 
 was packed. With that practical foresight which 
 was a strong characteristic of the fishermen and 
 their spouses they had brought stools and chairs on 
 which they disposed themselves, leaving an aisle 
 through the middle. Those who had not been so 
 thoughtful or would not grow weary of standing 
 were grouped in the rear, and these crowded the 
 shop to the door.
 
 A SHOT IN THE WOOD 303 
 
 My heart beat faster as I made my way through 
 the group of men about the door, who separated to 
 let me within ; for now the moment had come. Some 
 nodded or bade me good day; the most part re- 
 mained silent and curious. The rear of the shop 
 had been converted by old Gaspard into a sort of 
 judge's rostrum; three boats bottom-up formed the 
 foundation, while planks laid upon these constituted 
 a rude platform. On this had been set a table where 
 Gaspard, who despite his gnarled fingers could write 
 a fair hand, had established himself with a pot of 
 ink, a quill pen, and a sheaf of paper. He, it seemed, 
 would fulfill the role of clerk, as he did on occasions 
 of importance. Beside him sat the mayor, sunburnt, 
 bearded, solid, grave. Indeed the whole assemblage 
 was grave men, women, and children, if I count 
 not Pilon, who twirled his moustache, and Esper, 
 who smiled his uncertain smile. Before the plat- 
 form there had been left an open space to facilitate 
 the passage of witnesses. 
 
 I took my seat upon the front row beside Betty; 
 her hand stole into mine and rested there. After 
 a moment I cast a look about. Opposite and in 
 front were Pilon, Esper, madame the inn-woman 
 knitting as ever, her ragamuffin boy at her side, and 
 two or three of the staid advisers whom Surgon had 
 been accustomed to call into counsel and who now 
 lent him the weight of their presence. With me were 
 Betty, Muriel, Mr. Moore, Stevens, Senor Del Her- 
 valle, and his secretary. Jean leaned against the
 
 3 o 4 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 wall by the platform, erect, silent, immobile, arms 
 folded. 
 
 " Margot has gone, left Lavouche," Betty whis- 
 pered. " I went to seek her, for her word would 
 be, oh, so much." 
 
 I knit my brows. 
 
 "Gone has she?" 
 
 " Jean told me. But I am here I will speak." 
 And she set her lips with determination. 
 
 I pressed her hand softly. Her unsupported word 
 would accomplish little, but I would not tell her so; 
 her love was great and that sufficed me. 
 
 Behind us the fisher folk whispered in low voices, 
 now and again a man's heavy tone breaking forth 
 with distinctness. Every detail of the room was 
 photographed by my momentarily supersensitive 
 vision ; the shavings underfoot, the carpenter's tools 
 hung on pegs about the walls, strips of planking, 
 boat-ribs, poles for masts, oars, and all the lumber 
 of Gaspard's trade, stored on frames above our 
 heads. The clear sweet scent of new boards filled 
 the room; from far away there came the subdued 
 thunder of surf. Everything smacked of the sea. 
 
 Old Gaspard's little wrinkled face was screwed in 
 sorrowful lines. He sharpened his pen, arranged 
 and rearranged his ink pot and paper, but never to 
 his satisfaction ; finally he stepped off the platform 
 to come and shake my hand. For once his tongue 
 was silent, he opened his lips only to shut them to- 
 gether again, then turned, climbed upon the boards,
 
 A SHOT IN THE WOOD 305 
 
 and resumed his seat. He and Surgon held a low 
 consultation, the upshot of which was that two 
 additional chairs were placed beside the table, one 
 for use by successive witnesses and one for Mr. 
 Moore, who was invited to lend the mayor his advice. 
 Murmured expressions about the room approved 
 this ; Mr. Moore was wise in the ways of investiga- 
 tions, he was an official of the government. What 
 could be better? For there would be much to talk 
 about and much to investigate and many to interro- 
 gate. Two heads would be better than one, mean- 
 ing no disrespect to Surgon's head. 
 
 Presently I discovered a little by-play that at any 
 other time would have been entertaining but now 
 was dramatic. Glancing at Jean, I perceived he 
 gazed steadily across the room. In the position 
 which he occupied he was a lone and commanding 
 figure; thus might have stood a young gladiator 
 against a Coliseum wall awaiting his turn to enter 
 the arena. Following his unchanging look, I saw 
 that it rested upon Esper; the little fellow sat with 
 Pilon on one side and the knitting inn-woman on 
 the other. That he was well aware of the stern eyes 
 bent upon him was evident from the furtive glances 
 which he shot back at Jean; that he was uncom- 
 fortable beneath the look I could only guess first 
 he would look awhile down his nose, smiling craftily, 
 then steal a glimpse at the fisherman out of the 
 corner of his eye ; and so the interchange continued. 
 Why Jean had selected his present position was
 
 306 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 apparent only to Esper and me it was one of 
 menace. 
 
 All at once another person entered into the mute 
 play. The inn-woman stopped in her knitting, 
 plucked Esper by the elbow, and drew him nearer. 
 A few words were whispered in his ear; he turned 
 his head about, perking at her for all the world like 
 a bird ; again she whispered, afterwards nodding at 
 him with compressed, significant lips. The little 
 man's look wandered up and about the ceiling while 
 his smile flickered absently. Whatever she had said, 
 it had caused cogitation in his brain. Finally she 
 released his sleeve, resumed her needles, and he 
 scratched his nose a longer time than usual. 
 
 Del Hervalle chatted complacently with Muriel, 
 and as I watched him the black anger again welled 
 in my heart. He was the wretch who had sought 
 to kill me, to cause my death while suspicion hung 
 over my head, to send me into a grave with a dis- 
 honored name. His time would come, I said to my- 
 self, when he should suffer for his crimes, else the 
 whole world was out of joint and there was no such 
 thing as justice. 
 
 At that minute Surgon rapped with his knuckles 
 on the table. The investigation was open.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 LA VOUCH E INVESTIGATES 
 
 Surgon the fisherman wore the rough shirt com- 
 mon to the coast; Surgon the mayor wore an un- 
 comfortable white-bosomed one and a low collar. 
 Rapping upon the table, he commanded silence and 
 made a statement. Since the map was the beginning 
 of the trouble which had befallen their peaceful 
 island and interrupted the orderly pursuit of their 
 fishing industry, and since it was alleged that 
 Descarte had been slain in an effort to prevent me 
 from selling the same to the German stranger who 
 had disappeared, it was necessary to examine into 
 the affair of the map in order to get a proper under- 
 standing of the cause of Descarte's death. On the 
 suggestion therefore of Monsieur the Honorable 
 Alexander Moore, who had consented to assist him 
 and who now sat by his elbow as all could see, he 
 would proceed with an investigation upon this sub- 
 ject. Would Charles Wood worth ascend the plat- 
 form ? I did so, seating myself upon the chair pro- 
 vided for witnesses, while the assemblage gazed at 
 me, silent, eager, expectant. 
 
 " You have or had in your possession a map of
 
 3 o8 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 a fortification, Monsieur Woodworth ? " the mayor 
 interrupted. 
 
 " It is true/' said I. 
 
 " Inscribe that, clerk." Old Gaspard's quill began 
 to scratch on the sheaf of paper. " Where did you 
 secure this map, monsieur ? " 
 
 I considered. If a detailed investigation were to 
 be made concerning this document, many questions 
 would have to be asked and probably a good part 
 of the afternoon be consumed before arriving at 
 the matter of Descarte's death. 
 
 " Monsieur the Mayor, if you will permit I will 
 tell the whole story of the map," said I. " Then if 
 any points are not clear you can inquire as to them. 
 It will save time and facilitate the interrogation. 
 I offer this as a suggestion." 
 
 Surgon listened politely, revolved the proposal in 
 his mind, finally held a whispered consultation with 
 Mr. Moore. Arms folded, I waited patiently, for I 
 knew Lavouche and was well aware that its people 
 were not to be hurried when engaged in considera- 
 tion of a grave matter. The more grave (they 
 would have said) the more reason for long consid- 
 eration. Out of the tail of my eye I observed Senor 
 Del Hervalle. What I might say would concern him 
 mightily ; yet he was complacent, apparently a mere 
 spectator, a casual visitor at an interesting event. 
 Beyond him were the rows of villagers; the gray 
 heads and their withered wives nearest, behind them 
 the strong middle-aged folk, in the rear the younger
 
 LAVOUCHE INVESTIGATES 309 
 
 married couples, then youths, maidens, children, and 
 finally filling the door those men who were content 
 to stand. A rustle of satisfaction breezed the little 
 audience when Surgon announced that my sugges- 
 tion would be adopted; it had merit, only I was 
 asked to speak not too rapidly that the clerk might 
 note important points. 
 
 Thus I began: 
 
 " Two years ago this summer I was spending some 
 time with friends in a Western State. Those friends 
 were owners, one the manager, of a mine. As it 
 happened, there were in the employ of this mine 
 an assistant engineer and a mechanic, the former a 
 Scotchman and the latter a Frenchman by the name 
 of D'Urville. These two men were great scoun- 
 drels, never were there greater ; what the Scotchman 
 did not think of, the Frenchman did. They stole 
 considerable gold and murdered several men, besides 
 doing many other evil things which it is not neces- 
 sary for me to relate. Suffice it that their acts were 
 villainous. In the end the Scotchman was shot in 
 a fight with the manager, but the Frenchman escaped 
 with some of the gold. Among the effects of the 
 Scotchman there were a sword, this map in ques- 
 tion, and numerous other articles. The Scot had 
 been a renegade English army officer, a scamp who 
 had lived all over the world by his wits and a brag- 
 gart like Pilon, though not such a coward, and he 
 was a gentleman." A subdued chuckle greeted this 
 sally; Pilon's neighbors nudged his ribs, for the
 
 3 io THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 fishermen loved a jest. As for the fellow himself 
 he stroked his moustache fiercely. " The assistant 
 engineer had, as I thought, stolen into a German 
 fortress and drawn the map to sell to another 
 country. The notes were in German, therefore it 
 must be a German map. When we came to depart 
 from the mine, my friend the manager took the 
 sword and gave me the map as a memento. Once 
 arrived in New York I locked it away and forgot 
 it utterly." 
 
 " Then your friends saw the map ? Monsieur, 
 kindly give Gaspard their names that he may enter 
 them in the account." 
 
 I did so, together with their residences. 
 
 " Proceed, Monsieur Woodworth." 
 
 " The past two years I spent in Texas. A short 
 time ago I returned to New York by steamer and 
 had the map recalled to mind by a newspaper item 
 which my friend, Lieutenant William Harrington, 
 read. I mentioned that I possessed a map of a fort ; 
 he was coming to visit me here and as he 's an army 
 officer, he begged me to bring it with me so that 
 he could examine it. Is it likely, good people of 
 Lavouche " I sat forward and spread my hand 
 in a questioning gesture " is it likely that I was 
 trying to betray my country when the army of the 
 United States knew of the existence of the map, the 
 army in the person of Lieutenant Harrington?" 
 
 My audience was impressed. They looked at one 
 another with lifted brows. The old men blinked,
 
 LAVOUCHE INVESTIGATES 311 
 
 considered, weighed the statement. Meanwhile 
 Gaspard's pen scratched busily. 
 
 " But the German, that does not appear at all 
 clear," Surgon said judicially. 
 
 " It is simple, Monsieur the Mayor. As I rode 
 hither on the train, I sat with the map outspread 
 upon my knees. This stranger passing in the aisle 
 observed it. He stopped; he being also an army 
 man saw that it was a map of a fortress and that 
 there was writing in his own language. He de- 
 manded to see it, which I refused. That night he 
 attempted to steal it from me on the train, but was 
 unsuccessful, and he followed me. Just north of 
 the rock of La Dent he made an attack upon my 
 person and I knocked him down with a stiff punch 
 of the fist. Then he remained in the village waiting 
 a further chance to obtain it." 
 
 " But you were friendly. Even he has eaten at 
 your table." 
 
 " Yes, we were friendly as two dogs who watch 
 to have the same bone, not barking but with teeth 
 ready to bite. It amused me to invite him to dinner, 
 knowing all the while that he wanted to rob me. 
 It was the same as when Antoine and Pierre, burning 
 to maul one another for love of the same maiden, 
 yet greet each other with exceeding politeness." 
 
 A shout of laughter greeted my explanation. 
 Heads turned towards the two striplings, who sat 
 with downcast eyes, blushing, for the rivalry of the 
 pair was a great joke in Lavouche.
 
 3 I2 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " There was a third party to this affair of the 
 map," I went on. " By accident Sefior Del Her- 
 valle discovered that I was in possession of the 
 paper. The Senor is a diplomat, also a patriot of 
 his country who desires to protect his government." 
 I spoke with irony. " He did me the honor to call 
 one day at Stag Lodge during my absence in order 
 to persuade my servant Andrew to give him the 
 paper. What Venezuela would do with a map of a 
 German fortress I do not know. The ways of great 
 countries and of their honorable representatives are 
 not for us simple people to understand. At any 
 rate he desired to obtain possession of the chart. 
 When he failed in this, he sought out Pilon to help 
 him, and Pilon spread a report that it was a 
 French map which I was endeavoring to sell to 
 Germany. Thus the Senor thought perhaps to 
 frighten me into giving it to him that is no doubt 
 diplomacy. It was because of this tale Monsieur 
 the Mayor and the committee called upon me and 
 afterwards set a watch upon my movements as well 
 as upon those of the German. When the latter 
 stated to the committee who visited my house that 
 he was here in Lavouche on account of the map, he 
 spoke truly, but not, I regret to state, with the mean- 
 ing the committee understood. It was not to buy, 
 but to steal the map." 
 
 When I paused in my declaration, there was a 
 look of wonder upon the people. Many eyes were 
 directed at Senor Del Hervalle, who sat unper-
 
 LAVOUCHE INVESTIGATES 313 
 
 turbed ; many were focused on me. Their curiosity 
 was being fed to the utmost; it was a wonderful 
 day. 
 
 " Do you desire to enter the names of the com- 
 mittee, Monsieur the Mayor?" Gaspard inquired 
 politely. 
 
 " Yes, indeed. Nothing must be omitted which 
 may be important. Truly, there must not. Does 
 Monsieur Woodworth know the name of the 
 stranger ? " 
 
 " Baron von Hussman," I informed him. 
 
 " That too must be entered. According to the 
 report the map was sold to the German last night 
 and he has departed with it. At least he has gone 
 from the village. What have you to say of that, 
 monsieur ? " 
 
 " By whom is it declared that the map was sold ? " 
 
 " Pilon." 
 
 From his seat the fellow spoke up. 
 
 " That is true. The German has gone, the map 
 has gone with him. France is betrayed; it is 
 enough." And he leaned back, giving a satisfied 
 upward twirl to his moustache. 
 
 " Pilon is a wise man," said I scornfully. " Per- 
 haps he can tell how the German departed." On 
 this point however he had nothing to say. " In order 
 that everything may be clear, I will tell you. Last 
 night about ten o'clock my guest, Lieutenant Har- 
 rington, who arrived in the evening, and I were 
 surprised at my house by this stranger and a com-
 
 3 i4 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 panion of his. They compelled us to go with them 
 on board a vessel which they had anchored close to 
 the island under cover of the fog. It was their 
 intention to land us upon the beach ten miles below 
 in order to enable them to make a good start with 
 the map before warning of their crime could be 
 given. But while making an examination of the 
 map the German discovered that it was not one of 
 a fortress of his country at all, but of an American 
 one. So my friend and I were returned to Lavouche, 
 whereupon the yacht sailed away. As you know, 
 there is no name upon the map. I had supposed it 
 German because of the writing. The Baron, who 
 is a gentleman and officer high in the councils of his 
 country and who is a student of fortresses the world 
 over, perceived from certain technical features that 
 it was American. He may have known the exact 
 fort, but he did not say so." 
 
 " Then you have the map ? " 
 
 " Certainly, here it is." I drew it forth from my 
 pocket and opened it to the gaze of all. 
 
 " What do you propose to do with it ? " 
 
 " Turn it over to the authorities at Washington, 
 to be sure." 
 
 Surgon meditated. He consulted with Mr. Moore. 
 
 " Will you swear that you have no intention of 
 selling it? And will you deliver it to Mr. Moore 
 to be given to the President? " 
 
 ' To the first question, I will answer yes ; to the 
 second I can only answer in the affirmative on the
 
 LAVOUCHE INVESTIGATES 315 
 
 condition that Lieutenant Harrington consents. I 
 promised to give it to my friend to carry to Wash- 
 ington, for it would perhaps enable him to win 
 promotion." 
 
 "Ah, where is he?" the mayor inquired. 
 
 " Both he and Andrew are detained at Stag 
 Lodge." 
 
 At this moment Pilon rose to his feet, asking per- 
 mission to speak. When it was granted, he cast an 
 insolent look at me and said that it was a very 
 cunning tale that I had woven to hoodwink the 
 villagers, but that he would put a finger through it 
 in as many places as in a fish net. Where I had got 
 the map, he did not care, but my whole account was 
 an unlikely story. The German had been here, that 
 was certain, every one had seen him, and what he 
 wanted to know, did men sit down to eat together 
 and smoke each other's tobacco and laugh at jests 
 if they were fighting for the same thing? No, mon 
 Dieu! They fought with hands and knives if they 
 were in earnest. The committee had seen the map 
 and heard the German say that his business at La- 
 vouche concerned it. Let them remember that morn- 
 ing. Had the German and I acted as enemies act? 
 Name of a dog, we were almost brothers. For that 
 reason Monsieur the Mayor and the other worthy 
 men with whom he consulted had set Esper and poor 
 dead Descarte to watch us. As for the slander that 
 the honorable gentleman who was a guest at Moore 
 House had tried to steal the paper, that was a lie.
 
 3 i6 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " Where is your servant, Andrew ? " the mayor 
 interrupted, turning to me. " His evidence is 
 necessary." 
 
 " As I 've already stated, he can't be present," I 
 answered shortly. 
 
 " And for a very good reason," Pilon continued, 
 since he was probably hand in glove with his 
 master but was afraid to appear here before La- 
 vouche; same with the fellow who I said was a 
 lieutenant. Where also was he? Perhaps he had 
 come to the island, but if so it was because he was 
 also a rascal like myself and was to get some of the 
 money for the map. The German was gone, but he 
 could return for the paper, as no doubt he had 
 arranged to do. Sacre, it was an evil business to 
 betray France thus! He and Esper and Descarte 
 had worked to stop it and Descarte had died be- 
 cause of it. I had told a fine story, but there was 
 no one to prove it. Naturally I would tell a fine 
 falsehood, naturally I would swear a lie in order to 
 save my neck. 
 
 With a flourish of his hands he sat down, turning 
 with an air of satisfaction to look over the audience. 
 That it was warranted was only too evident; men 
 nodded approval and women whispered together 
 while glancing my way. Truly, my story was un- 
 supported and my witnesses absent; probably, as 
 Pilon said, it was a lie ; for had I not been friendly 
 with the German, who was an enemy of France? 
 Were enemies in truth ever friendly ? There was no
 
 LAVOUCHE INVESTIGATES 317 
 
 one to say that the map was American, no one be- 
 sides myself. It was very strange an American map 
 should have been written in German, but not at all 
 strange that a French map made to sell across the 
 Rhine should be so written. A buzz went through- 
 out the room, and now and again I could catch a 
 word to show me their thoughts. The slightly favor- 
 able impression which I had won by my account had 
 been rapidly dispelled by Pilon, to leave in its stead 
 one distinctly inimical to my interests. 
 
 I gazed at Betty. Her lips were firmly set, her 
 eyes blazed scorn. When her look met mine, she 
 smiled a smile of steadfast trust. As for the others 
 they displayed various feelings: Muriel sat with 
 lips parted, staring straight ahead of her, wonder 
 upon her face, wonder that a drama had been played 
 upon the island almost before her sight and she had 
 seen it not; Sefior Del Hervalle was complacent, 
 almost indifferent; Davis, the secretary, sat immo- 
 bile, only his eyes betokening eagerness of attention ; 
 rubbing elbows with him was Stevens, the man of 
 Moore House, who remained stolid and unblinking. 
 Jean leaned against the wall eying Esper, and Esper 
 smiled down his nose, while Pilon, now that he had 
 shot a first arrow, sat back enjoying his triumph, 
 and the inn-woman knitted on as if alone. 
 
 " Monsieur Woodworth, with your permission I 
 will look over the notes to see that no points have 
 been omitted," Surgon said. 
 
 " Certainly," said L
 
 3 i8 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 As I have already stated numberless times, what 
 Senor Del Hervalle next would do was always the 
 unexpected. Possibly he perceived that I was bound 
 to link his name with my defense, it was inevitable, 
 possibly he only thought to disarm any statement 
 which I should make concerning him. He rose all 
 at once, bowed to the mayor, to myself, and to the 
 people, and begged the favor of a few words. 
 
 I had mentioned his name, he stated thoughtfully, 
 and while he was a disinterested spectator and an 
 envoy from another country, a mere visitor to 
 America under the protection extended to foreign 
 officials by the United States, yet he did not wish 
 any shadow of misconduct to rest upon his name. 
 That he had discovered by accident that I possessed 
 a map of one of France's fortresses was true ; how 
 or where I had obtained it was a marvel which only 
 I could explain. While Venezuela was his adopted 
 country, yet his heart was with mother France. He 
 had called upon me to persuade me to return the map 
 to Paris and save the honor of the French people, 
 had talked with my servant, talked with me, but 
 found me obstinate. Of the German he knew noth- 
 ing, save that he had been present upon the island. 
 When I first met him, Senor Del Hervalle, I had 
 apparently mistaken him for some other person, but 
 that he had never beheld me before coming to 
 Lavouche was a fact, because he had been in 
 Venezuela for five years, as Mr. Moore, his host, 
 could testify. He had often talked with me, attempt-
 
 LAVOUCHE INVESTIGATES 319 
 
 ing to disabuse my mind of my error of mistaken 
 identity, but it had persisted. Not only had it per- 
 sisted, it had increased. I associated him with 
 strange happenings in a district somewhere far west, 
 of which he had never heard. My stories were 
 strange and violent. He had liked me, Charles. I 
 was strong and handsome. But he paused, look- 
 ing at the floor, while his fat little face grew sad 
 but he had come to the conclusion after much 
 observation that I was the victim of an hallucination 
 in which I conceived many strange impossible things. 
 Because of this perhaps there had risen the confusion 
 of the map and the killing of the man; his regret 
 and sorrow were profound, his mouth would never 
 have opened to speak these words were it not neces- 
 sary for the defense of his own honor as an am- 
 bassador of Venezuela and because of his love for 
 France. Ah, his love for la belle France was un- 
 dying. And I, what I said must be considered with 
 respect to the circumstances I appeared, God help 
 me, to have just a touch of madness. And spreading 
 his coat tails he sat down, folded his fat little arms, 
 and rested his chin upon his breast in compassion. 
 
 Betty stared at him with horrified eyes; her 
 father scrutinized his own pink finger-nails care- 
 fully. The fisher folk sat silent with open mouths. 
 
 " The honorable envoy's distinguished regrets 
 should be recorded," said I dryly. " Lavouche will 
 have something to treasure." And I saw a ghost 
 of a smile on Mr. Moore's lips.
 
 3 2o THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " That is true. Enter that the gentleman believes 
 Monsieur Woodworth mad," Surgon ordered. 
 
 Sefior Del Hervalle lifted a gentle protesting 
 hand, but ventured no further speech. 
 
 " It is to be regretted that we have not the 
 presence of your friend the lieutenant and of your 
 servant to complete the testimony concerning the 
 map," the mayor continued, consulting the papers 
 before him. " Is there good reason for their 
 absence ? " 
 
 " Very." 
 
 " Possibly you would wish to enter the reason in 
 the record. All should be complete and in order, 
 thus we can form a correct opinion." 
 
 " As you like," said I. 
 
 But the mayor turned to the boat-maker. 
 
 " Take a fresh sheet, Clerk Gaspard. Now, Mon- 
 sieur Woodworth, we are ready." 
 
 I looked over the audience and out of the door, 
 with my thoughts flashing across the island to my 
 old servant, my friend and companion, who lay 
 senseless and wounded sorely. 
 
 " At one o'clock this afternoon Andrew and I 
 stood in the wood behind my house," I said quietly. 
 " We were talking together when suddenly he flung 
 himself before me with a cry of warning. A shot 
 sounded ; the ball struck him. He lies at the point 
 of death in Stag Lodge, attended by Lieutenant Har- 
 rington. He may now be dead. If so, he gave his 
 life to save mine from enemies who are too cowardly
 
 LAVOUCHE INVESTIGATES 321 
 
 to fight in the open. Is that sufficient reason for his 
 absence, Monsieur the Mayor?" 
 
 This was news indeed. The whole assembly, save 
 Senor Del Hervalle, opened their eyes at this in- 
 formation. Betty uttered a low cry, Pilon ceased 
 to twist his moustache and remained with it between 
 finger and thumb while he stared, madame the inn- 
 keeper's needles halted. Then a murmur swept the 
 room of the boat-shop, a low utterance of astonish- 
 ment. Andrew shot from ambush, perhaps dead! 
 Sensation was in truth piling on top of sensation. 
 
 " It is an excellent reason," the mayor stated 
 gravely. " You are excused, monsieur, and I offer 
 you in this particular the sympathy of the whole 
 village." 
 
 As I descended to my seat, a buzz of wonder and 
 conjecture awoke in the room. The map was for- 
 gotten; all minds were stuffed with this fresh 
 happening.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 
 
 At about three o'clock Pilon was called to the 
 stand to give his account of my alleged crime. 
 While an examination into the subject of the map 
 was essential, this was the main purpose of the 
 investigation. There was a shifting closer of seats, 
 a settling of bodies, a craning of heads, a breath of 
 suppressed excitement. Old Gaspard whittled his 
 quill pen anew for larger writing. Pilon, full of 
 confidence, swelling with importance now that he 
 was the center of observation, pulled the witness 
 chair a little way about on the platform, cocked 
 his head on one side and gazed up at the ceiling, 
 awaiting the pleasure of the mayor. 
 
 Surgon announced that Descarte was dead ; there 
 could be no doubt on that point, for he lay in the 
 lower room of Pilon's house, where he had been 
 viewed by many. Yes, it was certain that he was 
 dead. Of the instrument of his death there also 
 was no question, since the knife which had slain 
 him still remained in his back. It was charged that 
 I had murdered him. Therefore the cause and na- 
 ture of the killing were to be determined. Hence 
 this investigation.
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 323 
 
 Pilon was ordered to speak. 
 
 " Monsieur Woodworth is guilty and a great 
 rascal," said he complacently. 
 
 The mayor rapped the table. 
 
 " You 're not to pass judgment, but to give evi- 
 dence. Begin at the beginning." 
 
 " Where is the beginning, Monsieur the Mayor? " 
 Pilon inquired with calmness. 
 
 That was in truth a question, unless we were to 
 start over again with my arrival upon the island. 
 However, after musing on the matter briefly, 
 Surgon said the witness should begin with the morn- 
 ing when a watch was set upon the movements of 
 the German and me. 
 
 " That is agreeable, Monsieur the Mayor," the 
 witness stated, not neglecting his moustache. " It 
 was upon consultation of the committee who visited 
 Monsieur Woodworth, and after they had beheld 
 the German stranger come on his own legs to make 
 a bargain with him, that it was decided to watch 
 the pair and prevent the sale of the map. I, Pilon, 
 suggested this. Had not this man Woodworth at- 
 tempted to knock out my brains with an oar and 
 pursued me even to the village? Therefore to watch 
 him and the German was wise. And therefore Pilon 
 suggested Esper and Descarte, because they were 
 skillful, loyal, and loved France; and they were 
 chosen. All of one day they kept guard. It is true 
 that monsieur the prisoner " this was rather an- 
 ticipating facts " sought to bribe Esper ; it is
 
 324 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 also true that the German spy endeavored to escape 
 from Descarte, walking him about until Descarte's 
 feet were like boiled potatoes. But now that Des- 
 carte has been murdered," he went on philosophically, 
 " his feet do not matter. Alas, yesterday, the next 
 day after his watch on the German, he could not 
 walk." 
 
 " I observed him on the street," the mayor in- 
 terrupted. 
 
 " That is, he could not follow the German." 
 
 The mayor held up a forefinger. 
 
 " In all things we must be exact. If Descarte 
 could not walk, we must say so; if he could not 
 follow the stranger, it is needful to say so. But if 
 he could go on his feet at all, that is a different 
 matter and must so be written. Do you observe 
 the distinction, Pilon ? " 
 
 :< Yes, Monsieur the Mayor, and a very good one. 
 Descarte could walk but not walk after the spy." 
 
 " Exactly but hold ! Was the man a spy ? 
 That is yet to be proven. Therefore, Pilon, speak 
 of him as the stranger." 
 
 " It is true, nevertheless he is a spy. I, Pilon, 
 say so. That should be sufficient." And he cast a 
 challenging look about the room. " To continue, 
 while Esper watched Monsieur Woodworth, I looked 
 about for the stranger in order to " 
 
 " Monsieur the Mayor! " a new voice interrupted. 
 
 All turned about. It was the inn-woman who had 
 spoken.
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 325 
 
 " What is it, Madame Corbeau ? " the mayor in- 
 quired attentively. 
 
 " Pilon and Esper and Descarte sat in the inn yes- 
 terday from half-past ten until one, and from two 
 until seven in the evening. They drank much wine 
 and brandy, of which the score was but partly paid. 
 How then could Esper have watched Monsieur 
 Woodworth, and Pilon have searched for the 
 stranger? " 
 
 Having popped this question into the investigation, 
 she proceeded with her knitting. Pilon glanced at 
 her she to trip up so good a customer as himself ! 
 
 " Madame must be mistaken," he said politely. 
 
 " There is no mistake, Monsieur the Mayor. My 
 score book tells no lies. This was yesterday." 
 
 " Note that madame takes exception to this state- 
 ment, Gaspard," the mayor advised. " Proceed, 
 Pilon." 
 
 " At about eight o'clock Esper came from the 
 house of Monsieur Woodworth to inform me that 
 he and the German were to meet by the boats, 
 whereupon the map would be exchanged for money, 
 France betrayed. I had already observed the 
 stranger go out of the inn at six o'clock " 
 
 " Monsieur the Mayor! " 
 
 It was the inexorable voice of the inn-woman 
 again. 
 
 "Well, madame?" 
 
 " The German paid his account and departed at 
 noon."
 
 326 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 Pilon pulled his moustache furiously. 
 
 " Mille de nom d'un chien! Am I to tell the story, 
 or am I not ? " he cried. 
 
 " It is perfectly proper that madame take ex- 
 ception." 
 
 Pilon glared about. " Well, one cannot be ex- 
 pected to speak easily when a chattering woman 
 buzzes like a fly on a window. As I was saying, 
 the stranger was to meet Monsieur the prisoner at 
 the boats. There was no time to run to the mayor, 
 to warn the village. * Come, my comrades/ said 
 I, ' we will save France, we three. Her honor 
 is our honor. Come, .we are her sons.' ' A pause 
 followed this sentiment, while he rolled his eyes 
 about for approval. " We ran into the street. The 
 fog was yellow with the moon. ' To the boats ! ' 
 said I. Thither we ran, I leading. But when 
 we reached them no one was to be seen and we 
 walked all among them, looking in their hulls and 
 among the sails and at the shadows, but no, man 
 Dieu! they had not come. ' Stand thou here, Des- 
 carte and thou here, Esper/ said I, leading 
 him to another spot. Then I went to a third 
 place. He who saw them first was to whistle 
 twice, but not until they had come together so we 
 could catch them and make them prisoners and save 
 France." 
 
 " This was at what hour ? " Mr. Moore asked. 
 
 " About eight, monsieur." 
 
 A third time the inn-woman interrupted.
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 327 
 
 " Pilon entered the inn a little before nine to 
 purchase a flask of brandy," she announced. 
 
 " Eight or nine, I know not ! " he exclaimed 
 angrily. " I do not sit knitting with my eye on a 
 clock. How should I know ! " 
 
 " Continue," the Mayor ordered. 
 
 " Peste, if I am allowed ! We waited for a long 
 time, so long that I went to Esper and said, ' Art 
 thou certain they will come, little one ? ' and Esper 
 said that Monsieur Woodworth had stated the hour 
 named, only that much he knew, whereupon I went 
 back to my station. ' It will be a long wait, possibly,' 
 thought I, ' and Pilon may grow chilly. He had 
 better go to the inn and purchase some brandy.' It 
 is no doubt to that visit madame referred." He 
 smiled, pleased with himself at this cunning ex- 
 planation. " When I returned, I halted at the end 
 of the street, outside this boat-house to warm me 
 with a drink of the brandy. I raised the flask to 
 my lips. Just then I heard a whistle. The bottle 
 dropped from my fingers. I stood harking." 
 
 " One minute, Pilon," Mr. Moore addressed him, 
 then turned to Gaspard. " Did you find a broken 
 bottle before your door this morning? " 
 
 " No, monsieur." 
 
 Pilon burst into laughter. 
 
 " That would not be, a broken bottle. For 
 I caught it before it struck the stones of the 
 street." 
 
 " While you were listening? "
 
 328 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " Just before, monsieur. I am very quick. Still 
 holding it in my hand, I sprang forward to the 
 boats. At first I could see nothing. I shouted and 
 shouts answered me, yet they were uncertain and 
 the night was full of the yellow fog, so I ran to 
 and fro furious to be in the melee. All at once I 
 heard a noise on my left, further down where I had 
 placed Descarte. I, Pilon, leaped towards the spot. 
 Alas, a rope lay on the sand, it tripped me. Again 
 I hurried forward to behold what ! That poor 
 Descarte struggling, then monsieur stabbed him in 
 the back so that with a dreadful cry my comrade 
 fell on the sand murdered. Meanwhile the German 
 held a pistol to Esper's head. Then the two of 
 them pursued us; we had but knives, while they 
 were armed with a revolver and a club. They fol- 
 lowed us even to the door of my house, which I 
 succeeded barely in shutting as their feet fell on the 
 sill." 
 
 "And the brandy?" 
 
 " Ha, that was strange ! I never once let go of 
 it, never knowing it was in my hand until I found 
 it there when we were safe in the house." 
 
 " Remember, Pilon, it is not yet paid for," the 
 inn-woman warned him. 
 
 " Nom de nom de nom, are you there still ! " he 
 shouted. 
 
 " Do you know where Charles Woodworth 
 was during the day of yesterday?" Mr. Moore 
 questioned.
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 329 
 
 " Not of my own knowledge, monsieur. At his 
 house, I suppose. Esper can tell you." 
 
 " You did not see him until night ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Why did you not alarm the village after this 
 fight?" 
 
 " These men were at the door, monsieur, and 
 armed." 
 
 His answers were given promptly; it was appar- 
 ent he had rehearsed them. Only in the matter of 
 the brandy and the day's surveillance of the Ger- 
 man and me had he been taken off guard; the 
 first point he had later mended, the latter he ignored. 
 And it was apparent that he had now found favor 
 with the fisher folk in the account which he gave, 
 for the comments, though not intended for my ears 
 but nevertheless reaching them, made so much plain. 
 
 " It is infamous, infamous ! " Betty whispered to 
 me. " Can men stand up and declare such false- 
 hoods!" 
 
 " Pilon finds no trouble doing it," said I. 
 
 All the assurance in the world was his. He had 
 now got through his invented tale, the worst was 
 over and he perceived that Lavouche was with him. 
 Crossing his legs, he stared at me with unconcerned 
 insolence; the flush brought to his face by the in- 
 spiration of his narrative still remained, darkening 
 his swarthy skin and making his countenance more 
 sinister. Del Hervalle had found him a willing, aye, 
 an eager tool, who would do much for money and
 
 33 o THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 more for hate. What he had begun, Esper no doubt 
 would finish. In the minds of the fishermen I would 
 stand convicted as a seller of maps and as a 
 murderer. 
 
 " Do you charge Charles Woodworth with mur- 
 der of this man, Descarte?" Mr. Moore asked 
 slowly. 
 
 " I do, monsieur." 
 
 " That is sufficient, take your seat. Monsieur the 
 Mayor, let us hear what refutation Woodworth has 
 to make." 
 
 Again I mounted the platform. The charge had 
 now been made, and as I looked into the faces gaz- 
 ing up at me I could find no friendliness there, no 
 sympathy, no belief in my integrity, only curiosity 
 and distrust and grave somberness. If my story 
 of the map had seemed far-fetched, what would be 
 the opinion of the narration which I was about to 
 relate? Pilon's account had all the advantages of 
 simplicity, brevity, plausibility, while mine involved 
 so many romantic occurrences, so extraordinary a 
 procession of events, that I felt that it would con- 
 vict me out of hand either as a liar or, as Del 
 Hervalle intimated, a madman. Betty's wistful look 
 was unnerving too. Well, I could only tell as 
 straightforward a story as possible, then let happen 
 what would. Only at Stevens' face I paused. He 
 sat, as he had all the while, straight, expressionless, 
 but with the corners of his mouth drawn down in 
 a hint of sardonic humor. Then his eyes met mine
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 331 
 
 and was it in truth so ? one of the lids winked 
 the barest wink in the world. A ray of something 
 hope, confidence, cheer flashed into my heart. 
 What it meant, I knew not; but that it indicated 
 something he had knowledge, information, sup- 
 port I felt to my very bones. 
 
 " My father came to this island years ago," I 
 said in a clear voice, addressing the people. "I, on 
 my part, played on these sands as a lad and sailed 
 in the boats with you as a youth. In all that time 
 did any one of you know me to do a dishonest or 
 a dishonorable thing? Yet knowing this, you have 
 believed the first tale this quarreler, this brawler, 
 this drunken braggart Pilon told you, a stranger him- 
 self in Lavouche and no doubt with a past he dare 
 not allow light to shine upon. Why, let me ask, 
 should I sell this map? For money? I have more 
 money now than I know what to do with; as is 
 well known to you, my father possessed wealth 
 which I have inherited. The charge that I wished 
 to sell this map to a foreigner is false and I now 
 give it to Mr. Moore to return to our government. 
 Of all the village of Lavouche, only two that I am 
 aware of have believed in me, stood by me and 
 been my friends. Others of you with whom I have 
 broken bread have first suspected and then believed 
 evil of me without ever giving me the benefit of 
 a doubt. I shall remember who of you all have 
 been my true friends Jean and Gaspard alone." 
 
 A sudden scuffle of feet broke the silence; the
 
 332 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 figure of the owner of the donkey, Papillon, 
 stood up. 
 
 "I I, Monsieur Charles, believe you innocent ! " 
 Antoine shouted excitedly, extending a hand in an 
 entreating gesture. 
 
 " You too then are my friend ; I shall remember. 
 If there are others, now is the time for them to 
 declare themselves while things look black for me," 
 I announced. 
 
 One more there was, but of that one I was not 
 to learn until later. Perhaps there was here and 
 there another who lacked Antoine's courage ; at any 
 rate, no second voice was lifted in my behalf in 
 Gaspard's boat-house. 
 
 " I will proceed," said I ; but the mayor raised 
 a hand. 
 
 " You will admit, Monsieur Charles Woodworth, 
 that there is evidence against you which Lavouche 
 cannot but recognize." 
 
 " Recognize, yes, but Lavouche has already con- 
 demned me. It yesterday believed me guilty of 
 attempting to sell the map, this morning believed me 
 guilty of murder, and I can read that belief upon 
 its face now. Lavouche has not even granted me 
 what every man is entitled to, innocence until guilt 
 be proven. And therefore I seek friendship of 
 Lavouche neither now nor hereafter." 
 
 He stared at the table. " Proceed," he said finally. 
 
 " How I came into possession of the map, I have 
 already related. On the voyage from Texas to
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 333 
 
 New York, which I previously mentioned, I became 
 acquainted with a gentleman who has extensive in- 
 terests in Central American countries and Venezuela. 
 I gave an account of what had occurred in the West 
 when I obtained the map, described the French 
 mechanic of the mines, and stated how I had last 
 encountered him running on board a vessel bound 
 for Venezuela, the same vessel on which by chance 
 Mr. Moore and his daughter also sailed. This 
 gentleman instantly recognized the man by my ac- 
 count and with good reason. For another person 
 with whom he had done business, a filibuster by the 
 name of Lonagan, had been shot against a wall in 
 Venezuela by order of this former French mechanic ; 
 the latter had risen through schemes until he became 
 a friend of the President of that country. The 
 French mechanic was no other than the man who is 
 Mr. Moore's guest and who is now an envoy. The 
 mechanic was named D'Urville and murdered two 
 men while at the mine at Forge; he now calls him- 
 self Senor Del Hervalle and it is not known how 
 many murders he has since committed. I was per- 
 fectly acquainted with him at the mine, talked with 
 him in his shop, fought against him. He hints that 
 I am insane and possessed by an hallucination; if 
 such is the case, then the owner of the mine, the 
 former manager and his wife, besides others who 
 were present on the spot, will be possessed by the 
 same form of hallucination when they see him. 
 That the events which occurred at Forge mine are
 
 334 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 not an invention of a disordered mind, Mr. Moore 
 and his daughter can affirm. They have talked with 
 the actors who were engaged in the struggle and 
 are familiar with the circumstances. Is such not 
 the case, Mr. Moore ? " 
 
 " I have talked with the persons you mention and 
 know the story to be true," he replied. " There was 
 a French mechanic. The description given of his 
 personal appearance was similar, I regret to say, 
 to that of Sefior Del Hervalle. It is a striking 
 likeness." 
 
 Betty sprang to her feet. " I too have had the 
 story told to me many times by my friends. It is the 
 truth." And she sat down with heightened color, 
 a fighting color. 
 
 Ah, this was better than I had hoped for, Mr. 
 Moore had gone further than I dared think. But 
 I was a long way off from proving that D'Urville 
 and Sefior Del Hervalle were one and the same man, 
 as was presently evident when Davis rose and stated 
 that he had continuously served the envoy as secre- 
 tary in Venezuela for four years past and he also 
 added a word on hallucinations and mistaken re- 
 semblances and " doubles " and so forth. Lavouche 
 craned and stretched its ears. The investigation was 
 exceeding its fondest hopes, it would be a wonder 
 to relate unto the third and fourth generation. 
 
 Presently I went on. " When I came to the 
 island, it was with no other idea than to show the 
 map to my army friend, evade the German, and
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 335 
 
 deposit the paper with the proper American au- 
 thorities. A storm. began the night of my arrival, 
 I had not yet been to Moore House. With the 
 abatement of the gale I went thither in the evening 
 and recognized Sefior Del Hervalle as an old enemy. 
 Then Stevens and Mr. Davis leaped on my back, 
 thinking me a burglar, and I was dragged into the 
 house where the Senor instantly perceived who 
 I was. Stand up, Stevens, and tell what you 
 know." 
 
 At my word of command, for I was resolved to 
 push the matter on my own hook, Stevens arose. 
 
 " The Senor recognized Mr. Woodworth," said 
 he. " He spoke his name the first time he laid 
 eyes on him." 
 
 " And yet Senor Del Hervalle denies that he ever 
 knew me," I stated. " Was he too laboring under 
 an hallucination when he addressed me as Charles 
 Woodworth if he had not met me in the Western 
 mines? Moreover, he searched me, found the map 
 in my pocket, at once knew it for what it was, since 
 he had seen it often two years before at Forge, and 
 gave it to Mr. Davis to secrete. But I tore myself 
 from Stevens' grasp and followed him through 
 the house and out upon the lawn, where I forced 
 it from the secretary. Was that an hallucination 
 when I choked you that night upon the grass, Mr. 
 Davis?" 
 
 I waited, but he remained silent. Then once again 
 I bade Stevens stand.
 
 336 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " What did the Sefior say when he first beheld 
 the map ? " I questioned. 
 
 " He looked at it and exclaimed, ' Ah, the map of 
 poor Frederic.' ' 
 
 " Which was the name of the man who drew it," 
 I explained, " Frederic Douglass, D'Urville's com- 
 panion in crime at Forge, the man in whose trunk 
 the map was found, the scoundrel with whom Sefior 
 Del Hervalle connived to steal the mine's gold." 
 Now it was my time to feel a slim triumph, for my 
 case so far was stronger than I thought. Del 
 Hervalle moistened his lips, and I saw that Muriel 
 drew away from him. " It would seem a very, very 
 strange thing that the Sefior, having never known 
 me, having never been in America during the last 
 five years, yet should at once know me upon this 
 encounter, and know the map and finally pronounce 
 the name of the very man whom I declare to have 
 been an accomplice of the French mechanic who is 
 identical in looks with the Sefior. Have you any 
 questions to ask, Monsieur the Mayor ? " It seemed 
 that he had not. " Shortly thereafter he called at 
 Stag Lodge during my absence and attempted to 
 force the map from Andrew at the point of a pistol. 
 Andrew would not tell where it was hidden, even 
 when he thought death should be his reward the 
 following minute. That Sefior Del Hervalle would 
 henceforth be a dangerous enemy I guessed, how 
 dangerous I could not tell. Presently Margot, Jean's 
 half-sister, sent me a warning. From whom she ob-
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 337 
 
 tained her information possibly Mr. Davis can in- 
 struct you. Elizabeth Moore, kindly relate your 
 meeting with Margot." 
 
 She arose swiftly. " I met her. She said to tell 
 Mr. Woodworth ' Beware strange doors ' and she 
 would say no more. But only yesterday morning 
 she sent the same warning to him, ' Beware strange 
 doors.' " 
 
 " Let Margot speak," the mayor said. 
 
 Jean faced about. " Margot has departed from 
 the village. Of this also perhaps Mr. Davis can 
 speak." 
 
 The face of the secretary grew a trifle more yel- 
 low, otherwise remained unchanged. Nor did he 
 answer. 
 
 " What was the meaning of the warning? " 
 Surgon asked. 
 
 " That will appear," I said. " There followed the 
 visit of the committee, the posting of the guards. 
 At ten o'clock yesterday morning Esper informed 
 me that Jean had been injured, was asking for me. 
 Never thinking of a trap, I hurried to the village and 
 came to the door of Pilon's house where Jean was 
 supposed to lie. Then I thought of the warning, 
 hesitated, but it was too late, for I was shoved into 
 the room and a blanket flung over my head. I was 
 then carried up to the empty third story where I 
 was kept a prisoner. It seems that Andrew and Miss 
 Moore missed me, as I was to go to the station in 
 Antoine's cart to meet my friend, the army officer."
 
 33 8 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " That is true," Antoine roared. " With my little 
 Papillon! Charles, you never came, though I had 
 fed him an extra measure of grain." 
 
 Monsieur the Mayor rapped for silence. 
 
 " Each will speak only when called upon," he 
 said. 
 
 " But it is true, Surcpn ! " Antoine replied stub- 
 bornly. " And I fed him an extra measure." 
 
 "Silence thou!" The owner of Papillon sub- 
 sided into mutterings. 
 
 The villagers were with me, if not in sympathy, 
 at least in interest. Half a dozen called on Antoine 
 to hush and for me to continue. 
 
 " I was a prisoner in Pilon's house from ten in 
 the morning until night. About seven o'clock I 
 broke the pane of glass in a window with my head 
 in order to shout, but the street was empty, it still 
 being supper-time. Then Pilon and Descarte and 
 Esper came out of the inn, and I was in fear lest 
 they perceive the splinters of glass upon the pave- 
 ment, a thing which they finally did. Presently my 
 friend, Lieutenant Harrington, appeared coming up 
 the street; I shouted. Pilon rushed into the house 
 and dragged me away before the lieutenant could 
 discover who called to him." 
 
 ' Thou liest! " Pilon said fiercely. 
 
 " I speak the truth. During the afternoon Sefior 
 Del Hervalle paid me a visit in order to persuade me 
 to give him the map. But it was not because of the 
 map that I had been made a prisoner, no, but be-
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 339 
 
 cause I knew he was no other than the French 
 mechanic and he was determined that I should die. 
 Pilon, Descarte, and Esper were to carry me out to 
 sea that night, stab me, and cast my body into the 
 waters. Pilon had his boat ready. When I had 
 been dragged away from the window see, here 
 the glass cut my face I gave up hope." 
 
 I paused in my story. Excitement in the room 
 was intense, but it was with the tension of immova- 
 bility. The fisher folk scarcely breathed ; only Pilon 
 was furiously twirling his moustache and glaring at 
 me. Del Hervalle's eyes had narrowed to slits, 
 though a smile rested upon his lips; old Gaspard 
 had ceased to write, remaining with pen poised; 
 even Jean had given over his surveillance of Esper 
 and was gazing at me, though the tale was not new 
 to his ears. Had I hoped to produce a dramatic 
 effect, I could have been no more successful. 
 
 " And so it came to nine o'clock ; then I escaped 
 just as I was about to be led away to Pilon's boat. 
 Descarte, Esper, and Del Hervalle were in the room 
 when I leaped up and hurled the chair on which I 
 sat. It struck the Sefior in the breast, knocking him 
 over, and I fled down the stair and into the street." 
 
 "How did you escape, monsieur?" the mayor 
 demanded, leaning across the table. 
 
 " Esper was accommodating enough to cut the 
 rope at the last minute." 
 
 Something like a gurgle sounded in Pilon's throat. 
 His eyes darted murder at the little man beside him.
 
 340 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 As for Esper he gazed at the floor, while his flicker- 
 ing smile came and went. Surc,on bade me go on. 
 
 " Descarte and Esper pursued me. I became con- 
 fused, ran among the boats, and there was cornered. 
 Descarte attacking me, I knocked his knife from his 
 hand, whereupon we grappled and next instant I 
 was fighting for my life. But I had had neither 
 food nor drink during the day, in addition to being 
 bound for ten hours I was weak he got his 
 hand on my throat and almost finished me. Then 
 Esper killed him and saved my life." 
 
 Drawing a long breath, I leaned back in my chair. 
 My defense was made, how good or how poor it 
 was not for me to say; the countenances of the 
 fishermen which had betokened varying astonish- 
 ment and excitement during the recital now resumed 
 their stolid and inscrutable look. Moved they had 
 been, but moved to believe was another thing, though 
 with that peculiar prescience for which we can 
 hardly account I felt that I had shaken Pilon's 
 story; the evidence of Betty and Stevens, slender 
 as it was, supplementing my narrative showed them 
 that there was more here than they had dreamt of 
 and that Del Hervalle despite his denial was some- 
 how mixed in the matter. But merely to shake be- 
 lief is not enough; Esper would succeed me, that 
 treacherous little scoundrel who would sell his soul 
 for money. Even at this instant he was leering 
 at me sardonically, like a satanic gargoyle. His 
 affirmation of Pilon's tale would swing the scale
 
 THE TALE THAT PILON TOLD 341 
 
 once more to the other side and I would indeed 
 be branded as a villain or a madman. 
 
 " There was no one saw you enter the village 
 when you went to Pilon's house ? " the mayor 
 inquired. 
 
 " No, the street was empty." 
 
 " Note that fact, clerk." Old Gaspard, seeking 
 in bewildered haste to remember as much of my story 
 as possible and set it down, nodded his head. " You 
 stated that you were captured by the German last 
 night and taken aboard a yacht. There seems a 
 discrepancy, Monsieur Woodworth." 
 
 " Not at all. Andrew and Lieutenant Harrington 
 were searching for me; they came up the beach 
 about ten and met me. It was after we returned to 
 Stag Lodge that the German sprang his surprise." 
 
 A considerable pause ensued. During the interval 
 I again perceived the singular operation of Stevens' 
 eyelid ; this time it was a distinct, unconcealed, bold 
 wink. What did he mean? Had he not told all he 
 knew? I studied him, watched for a further sign, 
 but there was none. He now sat stolid, apparently 
 indifferent. 
 
 " Monsieur, you are excused," Surgon stated. 
 
 I rose, glad that the ordeal was finished. It was 
 then, as I stood ready to step off the platform, that 
 my eyes strayed to the group filling the door. At 
 first I perceived nothing different from what had 
 been, for I was gazing against the light; directly 
 however I noted several new heads, strange ones in
 
 342 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 Lavouche. One man smiled at me and put a finger 
 on his lips a wild tumult burst forth in my heart, 
 a sense of triumph swelled my soul. For the man 
 who had placed a finger upon his lips, cautioning 
 silence, was the one person who knew Del Hervalle 
 for what he was, aye, knew the villain from the top 
 of his bald shiny head to the tips of his patent- 
 leather shoes. 
 
 And with my first care-free breath that day, with 
 a singing in my heart, I stepped down and walked 
 to my seat.
 
 THE TALE THAT ESPER TOLD 
 
 " This is excellent jest, this murder," Esper be- 
 gan and looked down his nose, smiling. 
 
 His turn upon the witness stand had arrived. 
 Though the investigation had now been in progress 
 three hours and it was nearly five o'clock, there was 
 no abatement in the attention of the spectators; if 
 anything, their interest was quickened as the end 
 drew near. After the conclusion of my testimony 
 there had been a pause during which time the great 
 doors behind the platform were opened a little way 
 to provide ventilation, chairs were shifted about, 
 Gaspard's pen sharpened, and all once more made 
 ready. It was to be the final act of the drama 
 played within the boat-house ; all felt that the climax 
 had come and gathered themselves to meet it. But 
 I I could have laughed, for I knew what lies 
 Esper would tell and I held in reserve still another 
 witness. 
 
 The little fellow had mounted to the chair, 
 smirked, laid his hat upon the board, tickled the 
 side of his bent nose with forefinger, and began 
 his testimony with a characteristic preface. Jean 
 for the first time left his position by the wall; he
 
 344 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 quietly moved to the edge of the platform, where he 
 seated himself on the planking not three feet from 
 the witness' elbow. Esper eyed him furtively, eyed 
 the handle of the revolver which peeped out from 
 the young fisherman's coat at the belt-line, while 
 Jean for his part was seemingly engaged with other 
 thoughts and sat as ever with arms folded, gazing 
 straight before him. 
 
 " A most excellent jest," Esper repeated. 
 
 Surgon rapped smartly on the table. " There is 
 no jest in it whatever," he said. 
 
 " Pardon, Monsieur the Mayor," Esper replied, 
 twisting his head about, " is it not a jest that " 
 
 " Begin, begin ! And at the beginning." 
 
 " Nom de chien! if one begins, how else could it 
 be but at a beginning? I have the honor. to inform 
 every one that I was born in a stable in the town 
 of Luneville, Department of Meurthe-et-Moselle, in 
 France. I am thirty-eight years of age, have fol- 
 lowed the professions of street-vender, paper-seller, 
 musician, juggler, chef, fisherman, valet-de-chambre, 
 writer, grave-digger, and barber; I have lived in 
 Lyons, Chalons, Orleans, Rochelle, Marseilles, Bor- 
 deaux, Cologne, Paris, Geneva, Venice, Genoa, Tunis, 
 Lisbon, St. Johns, Quebec, and Lavouche ; my nose 
 was broken by a soldier who disputed with me 
 over a woman; I can fence, speak five languages, 
 dance beautifully, weave baskets, and compose 
 amorous verses; I have been thrice seriously ill 
 once with typhus, once with cholera, once with
 
 THE TALE THAT ESPER TOLD 345 
 
 jaundice, besides which I am troubled with bald- 
 ness and have been kissed by St. Vitus on the lips; 
 I am " 
 
 " Stop ! " Surgon thundered. 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur the Mayor." 
 
 " We care not what you are or what you can do ; 
 get on with your evidence." 
 
 " In good time, monsieur ; permit me also to 
 state that I am familiar with judicial procedure. I 
 have been eight times arrested, but each time 
 through mistake; seventeen times a witness; and 
 forty-three times present at trials where I had an 
 interest these in many cities and in various 
 proces d' examination" 
 
 He perked over his shoulder like a clown, his long 
 horse- face turned to Surgon, his smile flickering like 
 candle-light. 
 
 " Begin with Lavouche," the mayor ordered. 
 
 " As is agreeable to you. I came to Lavouche 
 with Descarte, who was a drunkard, and with Pilon, 
 who is also a drunkard and whom I made the 
 acquaintance of in Marseilles one time when he had 
 just been released from the galleys " 
 
 " Galleys, thou rat ! " Pilon shouted, starting to 
 his feet, " I have not yet worn the iron I will 
 strangle thee ! " 
 
 " Silence silence ! " the mayor cried, and Pilon 
 fell back fuming. 
 
 " It is true, thou hast the love-marks of the little 
 rings on thy ankles even to this day," Esper con-
 
 346 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 tinued. " We came to Lavouche to fish. Said Pilon, 
 * There are those simpletons down yonder ; we will 
 find a way to empty their pockets.' That appeared 
 an excellent jest, so we came. I, Esper, was dis- 
 appointed to find this spot but a little village; to 
 one who had lived in cities it was insignificant, hope- 
 less, though I congratulate madame upon the fact 
 that she keeps excellent wine. One day we became 
 acquainted with Senor Del Hervalle, and Pilon con- 
 ducted certain business matters with that gentleman. 
 It seems that they concerned Monsieur Woodworth, 
 but what will you, men must live! Monsieur was 
 to be pickled like a mackerel, though in the sea in- 
 stead of in a cask. I it was who informed him, in 
 accordance with the trap which had been set, that 
 Jean lay hurt. That too was amusing." 
 
 " Thou villain ! " Pilon sprang forward. 
 
 Esper leaped to his feet, whipped forth a knife. 
 
 " Villain thou ! Have I borne thy kicks and cuffs 
 and flung wine-cups, swine, for nothing! Ha, you 
 have taken money and not divided, kept monsieur's 
 watch and not divided come thou here and let me 
 slit your gullet a little way. Esper is a rat, Esper 
 is a marionette, Esper is an old boot to kick about ! 
 I have waited, thou dog and son of a dog! Come, 
 I will pick your teeth with my knife point, I will 
 tickle your fat belly. Name of God, I will slice you 
 into ribbons and little squares ! " And hissing curses, 
 Esper stood knife in hand, an image of hate and 
 rage.
 
 THE TALE THAT ESPER TOLD 347 
 
 Next minute Pilon had been thrust back into his 
 seat by those nearest him; Esper's knife had van- 
 ished, his transport of fury with it, and he sat again 
 the same inimitable little fellow he had been before 
 his outburst, smiling down his nose. To see him, 
 it was to believe that nothing had happened. Pres- 
 ently he was commanded to proceed with his 
 evidence. 
 
 " Monsieur Woodworth with the blanket over his- 
 head looked very much like an Algerian duenna. It 
 was entertaining; also his vexation when he was 
 tied in the chair in the loft was amusing it would 
 make me blush, Monsieur the Mayor, to repeat some 
 of the remarks which passed monsieur's lips. I am 
 sensitive of coarse speech, yes, having acted in the 
 capacity of valet-de-chambre and being used to 
 agreeable society. True, as madame stated, we drank 
 much of the day and much of her brandy in the 
 inn. In the evening Monsieur Woodworth and I 
 engaged in private discussion, speculating on what 
 it would be like to dwell under the sea where there 
 is so much salt, likewise debating a little business 
 transaction. Mon Dieu, monsieur has wit and the 
 talk was excellent between us; monsieur is also a 
 business gentleman and we arrived at a satisfactory 
 agreement whereby he was to pay me five hundred 
 dollars for cutting the rope. Monsieur is nimble; 
 it was astonishing even to me who have seen many 
 extraordinary things to perceive the rapidity with 
 which he gave his compliments in the form of a
 
 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 chair to Senor Del Hervalle. Sefior was quite 
 prostrated by them." 
 
 I glanced at Del Hervalle, a pallor had crept into 
 his face, but the complacent look still lingered ; what 
 his feelings were, now that his tool was betraying 
 him, I could only imagine. His self-control was 
 magnificent. The villagers were whispering to- 
 gether, casting open looks at him, for their belief 
 in Pilon's lie had fled before this square repudiation 
 by Esper. And the most excellent jest of all was 
 the manner in which little Esper, with a heart full 
 of hate for his comrade, leading him into the trap 
 while deceiving me at the same time in the thought 
 that he would commit perjury, had bided his 
 moment. 
 
 " That brute of a Descarte and I followed mon- 
 sieur down the street into the boats," he continued. 
 " There they fought. I watched the struggle. Then 
 presently I pricked Descarte in the back, and Des- 
 carte ceased to be further interested or interesting. 
 After that monsieur and I planned a little, for there 
 was still Pilon and the Senor to deal with. Senor 
 was an orange which had not yet been squeezed, 
 except by Pilon, therefore a little squeezing by 
 Esper was very proper, was it not, Monsieur the 
 Mayor? Yet Senor Del Hervalle is a dry orange; 
 only a few drops came forth between my fingers 
 and thumb when he asked me to swear to Pilon's 
 lie, only three hundred dollars, Monsieur the 
 Mayor. Norn de D\eu, that part of the jest was
 
 THE TALE THAT ESPER TOLD 349 
 
 disappointing," said he, wrinkling his brow in 
 regret. 
 
 Where he sat, excitable Antoine, owner of the 
 donkey, stood up and shook a fist. 
 
 " Thou Pilon wretch, liar ! Had I but my 
 fingers on thy throat! To seek to lie Monsieur 
 Charles' life away ! " 
 
 Confusion arose, people sprang to their feet in 
 excitement. With a curse Pilon leaped up, while 
 watchful Jean ran forward, thrusting his revolver 
 into his face. 
 
 " Sit," he commanded. 
 
 Sulkily Pilon obeyed, and the mayor began to 
 pound on his table and call for order. This was 
 slow to come, voices spoke throughout the room in 
 agitated talk; no longer was I believed guilty, no 
 longer a murderer. Looking over my shoulder, I 
 observed that the strangers who had listened in the 
 rear had pressed forward until now they stood in 
 the aisle. There were four of them, two whom I 
 knew, two whom I did not. 
 
 " Order ! " Surgon roared. " Esper, you are 
 excused." 
 
 The witness stepped down, glanced at Pilon, who 
 in turn glared at him, opening and shutting his 
 hands, then deposited his small body on the edge 
 of the platform and against the wall across the 
 room from his former companion and leader. 
 
 " Monsieur the Mayor, I would speak," said the 
 inn-woman. She turned to her tousle-headed boy.
 
 350 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " Stand thou up on thy chair and repeat what thou 
 heard while serving wine to Pilon and Descarte 
 and Esper, or I shall rap thy ears soundly." 
 
 The boy, possibly ten years old, began to weep 
 with fear at prospect of this undesired prominence, 
 but climbed up as he was bidden. In a timid voice 
 he began his account, aided by suggestions from 
 the inn-woman; gradually interest in what he was 
 saying restored his confidence, he wiped the tears 
 from his cheeks, licked the corners of his mouth, 
 and concluded this part of the evidence. He had 
 served Pilon, Descarte, and Esper with wine and 
 brandy during yesterday, going to and fro between 
 the barrels and their tables ; it was while engaged in 
 this trudging service, an apron tied about his neck 
 and while he placed their glasses or wiped the board 
 with a cloth or stood behind them awaiting fresh 
 orders, that he caught scraps of their conversation. 
 As he told his disconnected tale, he pointed a stubby 
 dirty finger now at Pilon, now at Esper, now at me. 
 It was in the loft of a house that I was tied; Pilon 
 had made his boat ready, but Descarte growled in 
 his winecup because his feet were sore; they had 
 also disputed about a timepiece which they had, 
 which they even brought forth and displayed while 
 they quarreled; they were in the inn most of the 
 day and they were going to take me out of the 
 house at night and out upon the water. Scraps 
 only he heard, in scraps he told their talk, in short 
 jerky sentences, with much time for thought be-
 
 THE TALE THAT ESPER TOLD 351 
 
 tween, with many promptings, with innumerable 
 details of himself and of the cups and the table 
 and the barrels and the wine. 
 
 " Last night he told it all to me," madame affirmed. 
 " And I saw Monsieur Charles go by the window 
 with Esper at ten o'clock yesterday morning, saw 
 them though I was bent over the stocking which I 
 knitted and though it was foggy. But I see many 
 things of which I do not speak until the proper 
 time." 
 
 Here was another friend and more proof that 
 my tale was true. By every one madame was known 
 for her knitting and her quiet tongue, which when 
 it did vent speech uttered words for a purpose; so 
 there was no doubt any longer in the minds of the 
 fishermen that I was the innocent victim of a plot. 
 
 " Pilon," the mayor started to say. 
 
 By rising to his feet Stevens however caused him 
 to pause. 
 
 " With Mr. Moore's consent I will give some 
 information." 
 
 " Speak," Mr. Moore said. 
 
 " It 's this. I was aware that Sefior Del Hervalle 
 had recognized Mr. Woodworth on their first meet- 
 ing. I suspected at the time that there was some- 
 thing underneath the surface, but of course could 
 do nothing more to find out. First, Miss Betty, 
 who also suspected something, asked me to keep my 
 eyes open ; then Mr. Woodworth told me this morn- 
 ing to keep the Sefior under surveillance as much as
 
 352 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 possible. At a little before one o'clock the Senor 
 walked alone up and down on the lawn before Moore 
 House, after which he suddenly entered the wood 
 and moved rapidly towards Stag Lodge." When 
 Stevens made this statement I straightened, my heart 
 beating with exultation. I glanced at Del Hervalle, 
 who had given a start. The fox was trapped at 
 last. " Keeping behind him and following under 
 cover of bushes, I too went in that direction, not 
 letting him out of my sight. Presently he halted in 
 sight of the open space before the Lodge. Then he 
 began to retreat carefully, while I did the same, 
 keeping a gap between us. Mr. Woodworth and 
 Andrew were in sight, walking slowly up the path 
 in the wood and conversing. The Senor watched 
 them a moment ; suddenly he stepped into the open, 
 fired a revolver, then turned and ran, glancing over 
 his shoulder towards the place where the other pair 
 halted. It was only by flinging myself down upon 
 the ground that I escaped being seen. Whether 
 any one was hit by the bullet, I did not at the 
 time learn, as I felt it my duty to follow after the 
 Senor and see whether or not he returned to Moore 
 House. This he did. Since the beginning of the 
 investigation it comes out that Andrew was shot. 
 Senor Del Hervalle did it, and I accuse him of hold- 
 ing the pistol and pulling the trigger." 
 
 An uproar broke forth in the room. Antoine 
 shouted to hang Pilon, to hang Del Hervalle, to 
 hang Esper, to hang all the villains in Lavouche.
 
 353 
 
 Men crowded forward, turning to each other as they 
 advanced, questioning what to do, whether or not 
 to act ; women chattered in terrified anxious voices ; 
 children whimpered. Chairs scraped, shavings rus- 
 tled, voices rang noisily throughout the shop. 
 
 " Order ! " Surgon bawled. 
 
 He seized Gaspard's ink-pot and beat the table 
 violently, splashing ink everywhere. " Order 
 silence! Be seated! Let the Sefior speak!" 
 
 Ah yes, let the Senor say what he had to say; 
 the words were caught up and repeated from person 
 to person. That would be worth hearing, that ; and 
 hushing one another the people stiffened in expectant 
 silence. Yes, indeed, now was the time for Del 
 Hervalle, who had laid plots, woven .schemes, spoken 
 of hallucinations, to come forth and explain this 
 thing which Stevens had declared. I leaned back 
 in my seat the hour had struck for Del Hervalle. 
 
 He arose quietly and looked about. 
 
 " Many lies have been told to-day," he said, 
 " greatest of all, this last one. I am here, an envoy 
 from another nation, on important business with 
 your government. I do not even answer it, I ignore 
 the charge of assassination it is absurd, malicious, 
 impossible. The tale that Charles Woodworth re- 
 lates is the fabrication of a disordered mind, he 
 should be examined by medical experts for lunacy. 
 I deny all that has been pronounced of me; this I 
 do, though it is not necessary to make any state- 
 ment, since I am a foreign official and responsible
 
 354 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 only to my own government for my conduct. Your 
 own country will and must respect my person. 
 Absurd all this story, when I have never been in 
 America before, when I am uninterested in what 
 you do, know no one " 
 
 A voice broke in upon his statement, a figure 
 strode up the aisle and confronted him. 
 
 " You know me, D'Urville." It was Jack Mait- 
 land who spoke, Jack, whom I had urged by letter 
 and telegram to come to my assistance and who, 
 with three companions, had arrived in the midst 
 of the investigation. " You know me, monsieur, 
 though I Ve not seen you since two years ago when 
 you helped Douglass steal gold from Forge and 
 sought to murder me there." 
 
 Del Hervalle shrank away from him until he 
 brushed Pilon's body. Rapidly he shot a look over 
 the room; everywhere were inimical faces, every- 
 where hostile eyes. By a wonderful effort he recov- 
 ered his composure, spoke a few low rapid words to 
 Pilon. I glanced at his secretary, Davis ; the man's 
 skin was sickly, his eyes were closed, and more than 
 ever his face seemed carved out of ivory ; his breath 
 came with difficulty, as if it caught and hung for an 
 instant somewhere about his heart. 
 
 " I am Senor Del Hervalle," said the envoy 
 smoothly. 
 
 " Senor Del Hervalle you may call yourself," 
 Maitland retorted, "but D'Urville you are never- 
 theless, the same D'Urville who blackened Forge
 
 THE TALE THAT ESPER TOLD 355 
 
 with crimes and together with Frederic Douglass 
 strove to take my life. Now you are seeking Wood- 
 worth's because he recognizes you for what you are 
 and is a menace to your safety. But it won't do, 
 D'Urville, it won't do. For here also is Mr. Fenton, 
 whom you will remember. Ah, you 're masquerad- 
 ing now in a long coat instead of a smudged me- 
 chanic's jacket; you are very adroit, very plausible, 
 and one of the most dangerous criminals that walk 
 the earth." 
 
 Mr. Fenton, the iron-jawed, large-boned New 
 York financier, advanced to Maitland's side. He 
 tugged at his gray moustache, scrutinizing the little 
 Frenchman. " It is he, no mistake about that. I 'm 
 glad to see you again, monsieur, though the pleasure 
 was one I never expected to experience. But now 
 I shall see that you hang by the neck ; I 've come in 
 a special train all the distance from New York in 
 your honor." 
 
 By now the villagers crowded close in a semi- 
 circle about the actors. The new and final turn 
 which the presence of the New Yorkers gave keyed 
 them to the last notch of expectancy and excitement. 
 
 " It is a very fine jest indeed, is it not, Monsieur 
 the Mayor?" spoke Esper, from the witness chair 
 upon which he had leaped to have a better view and 
 where now he stood an impudent observer. 
 
 Surgon rolled an eye at him, but being too pro- 
 foundly astonished at the whole affair to make 
 admonition remained silent.
 
 356 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " I am the envoy of Venezuela," said Senor Del 
 Hervalle in the same smooth voice he had previously 
 commanded, " and consequently immune from inter- 
 ference on your part. Mr. Moore will so inform 
 you. I refer you to your government and " 
 
 " That won't serve, D'Urville," Mr. Fenton an- 
 swered dryly. " I burned the wires all day yester- 
 day between New York and Washington in order 
 to put the government in possession of the facts 
 pertaining to you, and these two gentlemen " he 
 indicated the men who stood a little way behind him 
 " are here with authority to act. One is from the 
 State Department, the other is a secret service officer. 
 Venezuela, I fear, will lose an envoy." 
 
 "Ha, Pilon, how tastes this soup?" Esper in- 
 quired gayly. 
 
 " Order ! " Surc.on said mechanically, " order and 
 silence ! " 
 
 " Very well, Monsieur Fenton. Will you be so 
 accommodating as to hand me my hat ? " Senor Del 
 Hervalle requested. " Then we will proceed." 
 
 When the covering was given to him, he bowed 
 low politely. When he straightened up, an empty 
 chair rose in his hand and flew straight at the ring 
 of people before him. So silent, so sudden, so 
 wholly astounding was the attack that Maitland, the 
 secret service officer, Fenton, all of us fell back, 
 flinging up shielding arms. 
 
 With a light bound Del Hervalle sprang upon 
 the platform, Pilon with him; two steps carried
 
 THE TALE THAT ESPER TOLD 357 
 
 them across it and off at the opposite side, leaving 
 the planks vibrating and pounding on the boats 
 which formed their base. A shot from Jean's pistol 
 sped after their forms, but harmlessly, since he had 
 no time to aim. One more forward leap and the 
 two men vanished between the wide rear doors which 
 stood partially open for air. Then these were 
 slammed shut with a jarring bang. 
 
 A score of us piled pell-mell after the fleeing men, 
 knocking over chairs and table and scattering paper 
 and ink-pot in our wild rush. Surc.on stupefied, old 
 Gaspard dazed and still clutching his quill ready 
 to write, Esper standing on the witness chair all 
 were swept forward in our advance to seize Del 
 Hervalle and Pilon. We flung ourselves against the 
 doors they shook but did not yield ; again we 
 hurled our bodies upon the broad leaves to no better 
 purpose. 
 
 " They 're propped shut with a beam," Gaspard 
 squealed shrilly. " Pilon has propped them with a 
 beam." 
 
 Hands tore out planks from the platform, swung 
 them with muttered curses against the door, in the 
 manner of a battering ram. But the doors were 
 stout, the prop well placed, we could not force them. 
 For a time we stood dismayed. 
 
 " Out of the other end ! " I shouted at last. 
 " They have a boat at the north point of the isle. 
 To the boat, men ! Quick ! " 
 
 As one person we turned, springing over boats
 
 358 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 and lumber. Women and children shrank tog-ether 
 in confusion, shrieking; the room rang with noise, 
 with the thumping of overturned chairs, chairs 
 hurled aside, with pounding feet, shouts, the push- 
 ing of crowded bodies. A dog broke into a frenzied 
 yelp somewhere under foot and added to the hubbub. 
 Suddenly the congestion opened free before me and 
 I almost pitched forward on my head. Pistol in 
 hand, I rushed to the south door.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 LAST OF THE TALE 
 
 Out of the boat-shop we streamed, men, women, 
 children, dogs. 
 
 Fog filled the air. The walls of the village loomed 
 vaguely at our backs and vanished farther up the 
 street. Thank Heaven, it was not necessary to 
 depend upon sight ; Stevens' bit of spying had made 
 that unnecessary. Del Hervalle and Pilon would 
 trust their secret to save them ; careful schemer that 
 he was, the former had prepared the boat for a last 
 contingency, a final resort. 
 
 Racing northward, I crossed down to the beach 
 and ran upon the smooth hard sand. The tide was 
 in, The Throat was full, the waves flowed and un- 
 curled in sudsy foam. Rage at being thus thwarted 
 by the Frenchman lent me speed, and gradually I 
 perceived that the others were falling behind, all 
 save Jean, who had caught me up and was running 
 by my side, his splendid body swinging forward 
 at each step as regularly as a perfect machine. A 
 hundred yards were past. Out somewhere upon 
 the shrouded sea we could hear the low bleat of a 
 fog-horn, the warning cry of some coasting steamer 
 moving fearfully upon its way. The fine moisture
 
 360 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 of the fog sifted against our faces, the sands gave 
 no sound save a soft crunch to our flying feet, and 
 from under the cover of the mist the ocean's waves 
 emerged to meet us, but broke and slithered over 
 the beach in glassy lines. 
 
 I gripped my revolver. Del Hervalle to escape 
 now! Never, even if I should have to wade into 
 the sea after him! Heaven would not play such a 
 dastardly trick, would not turn loose once again 
 upon the earth such a monster ! With Andrew lying 
 in Stag Lodge, white and near death, lying on the 
 same island with the assassin who had fired the 
 shot, Heaven could not be so unjust! 
 
 The line of the beach began to curve gradually east- 
 ward, while growing narrower; the sea encroached 
 upon it and forced us nearer the brown rugged 
 cliffs of rock which rose above the ocean at this 
 part of the island. Their fronts stood sheer, slashed 
 now and again by crevices and ravines that led up 
 to the wood above; fragments and blocks detached 
 and fallen down upon the sands impeded us, among 
 which we dodged with unslackened speed. Gulls 
 flew up screaming, vanishing in the mist that blew 
 and rolled in clouds across sea and earth. 
 
 " Are you sure of them here, Charles ? " Jean 
 asked. 
 
 " Stevens followed Del Hervalle. The boat was 
 at the north point." 
 
 Once I slipped on a stone that protruded from the 
 sand like a fang, but was up again instantly with
 
 LAST OF THE TALE 361 
 
 scarcely a second lost. As we ran, all of the events 
 in which I had played a part raced through my 
 mind in pictures and scenes, as if they had been 
 cast in some kaleidoscopic fashion upon the fog: 
 the tragedy at Forge; my months upon the ranch 
 under the hot sun of Texas; the day upon the 
 steamer when the coffee merchant, the journalist, 
 Harrington, and I had discussed this same villain; 
 my coming to the island and my encounter with Von 
 Hussman; my capture at Moore House; Del Her- 
 valle's visit at the Lodge; the committee of fisher- 
 men; Esper and I bantering under the tree; the 
 struggle in the room and my imprisonment in the 
 loft of Pilon's house; Descarte's death on the sands 
 among the boats; my sojourn on board the yacht, 
 with the German inspecting the map ; the talks with 
 Betty; the shot in the wood; the trial in the boat- 
 house. They flew through my brain in tatters and 
 rags. Was it years, or only days, in which time 
 had poured out these things that had happened here 
 at Lavouche! 
 
 On a sudden Jean held up a hand, stopping as 
 did I. 
 
 " Their voices," said he, " and this is the north 
 point" 
 
 The shingle of sand just here was open and free 
 from any fallen blocks, spreading smooth and white 
 from the foot of the cliff to the water. Hand yet 
 lifted, Jean leaned forward to hearken; it seemed 
 at first as if we were alone with the sea ; across the
 
 362 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 water stole the muffled bass mooing of the fog horn, 
 like the voice of some dejected sea-animal; the 
 water lapped and gurgled and slithered and slid at 
 our feet, while from the coast of the mainland higher 
 up sounded the rolling beat of surf; all about us 
 in whirling clouds, in thin vapors, or driving mists, 
 the fog swept southward upon the light breeze. 
 
 Then some distance off there sounded a voice, 
 Pilon's, speaking. 
 
 Jean whispered, " Keep against the rock so that 
 we shall not be seen." 
 
 Creeping along its brown flank, pistols in hand, 
 we advanced in the direction 1 of the speaker. 
 Gradually a darker blot appeared in the gray fog 
 the boat which had been moored at low tide by 
 a rope to a tooth of rock and which now floated 
 upon the risen waters. Nearer we crept. We could 
 make out its lines, its hull, its ghostly mast. It 
 rocked and pitched upon the incoming swells like a 
 live thing, now riding high, now sinking into a 
 trough, while its cable slapped the waves at each 
 conclusive jerk of its body. Pilon was at work. 
 Yet nearer we crept, so near we could distinguish 
 the details of his person his head and back, his 
 trousers rolled to the knee and the unsubmerged 
 part of his bare legs. He had waded forth into 
 the water in order to draw the craft nearer shore. 
 
 Senor Del Hervalle stood closer to us, a port- 
 folio under his arm which he had evidently left on 
 dry land when he stored his other property aboard.
 
 LAST OF THE TALE 363 
 
 Behind him a ravine full of bushes opened, and down 
 this I knew led the path from Moore House and the 
 wood to this spot. The man stood about the middle 
 of the sand, looking shorter and fatter than ever 
 through the illusive mist. 
 
 " Hasten, my good Pilon," he said, " we know 
 not when they may come." 
 
 " None know of us here," the other returned 
 confidently, " except Davis and what of him, 
 Senor?" 
 
 Del Hervalle turned and gazed in our direction, 
 reflecting. Jean and I melted into the stone against 
 which we crouched. Did he perceive us? With a 
 pounding heart I awaited discovery. But he was 
 a full fifty feet off; we blended with the cliff and 
 his vision ranged beyond. Removing his silk hat, he 
 wiped his brow, remaining bare of head for a few 
 seconds to allow the cooling air to play over his 
 crown. 
 
 " Davis must take his own chance," he said. " We 
 shall not wait." 
 
 "Good," grunted Pilon. "I never liked that 
 Davis." 
 
 The sail was now hauled up; the speaker stood 
 looking at it, then he stepped upon the prow, jumped 
 out into the knee-deep water and began dragging the 
 small vessel in towards the beach. 
 
 " Loose the rope, Senor, all is ready," he stated. 
 
 Del Hervalle deposited at his feet the portfolio 
 which he carried, turned, and made his way to the
 
 364 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 fragment of stone which had been utilized as a 
 mooring-post, where he began to unwrap the coils. 
 
 " Now is the time," I whispered, leaning forward 
 to spring. 
 
 Jean's hand closed on my arm. 
 
 " No, Pilon must come nearer." 
 
 Breathlessly I waited. Each second seemed an 
 age, an age of terrible suspense. Slowly, indolently, 
 Pilon drew the boat towards the beach, wading 
 through the water with swishing steps. Del Her- 
 valle, who was coiling the rope and moving to meet 
 him as he worked, suddenly paused. A faint shout 
 had sounded down the beach behind us; the vil- 
 lagers were coming. 
 
 " Faster, Pilon," he cried, " I hear voices." 
 
 Pilon in turn halted, cupping a hand to his ear. 
 " There are none, Seiior, you heard but a gull 
 scream." 
 
 " No, no, they come." And he began to wrap the 
 rope hurriedly. 
 
 " Very well, Senor." 
 
 Jean gripped my forearm. I felt his fingers 
 quiver. As for myself my pulses were galloping; 
 for the moment had come. 
 
 " Now ! " Jean breathed. 
 
 Up we leaped, running. I had trusted that we 
 should be upon them before they were aware of our 
 presence, but this was to hope too much; Pilon, 
 who saw us, uttered a shout of warning. Del 
 Hervalle whirled about, dropped the rope, while his
 
 LAST OF THE TALE 365 
 
 hand darted into his breast and he uttered an oath. 
 A revolver was whipped out by him, and with the 
 same movement it was fired. The report cracked 
 sharply against the cliff; the bullet sung by our 
 heads. 
 
 I have never been a particularly expert shot, in- 
 deed, my targets have shown but few bull's-eyes. 
 Now however my nerves were steeled by determina- 
 tion. Aiming at the widest part of his body, I fired, 
 and without waiting fired again. A sort of cough 
 came from his lips and his weapon dropped from 
 his fingers, while he staggered and fell. 
 
 " To me, Pilon, to me ! " he cried, stretching forth 
 a hand, " let me not be taken ! " 
 
 Pilon however was too greatly engaged to render 
 assistance, for Jean, swerving when he saw that 
 Del Hervalle was down, ran towards the sailor. 
 The latter crouched behind the prow of his boat 
 which grated on the sand, and they began firing 
 wildly at each other. With a sudden curse Pilon 
 flung his pistol at Jean's head, gave the boat a 
 mighty shove, and flung himself into it. 
 
 " To me, Pilon," Del Hervalle uttered in a last 
 despairing cry. 
 
 I drew nearer to the man slowly, watchfully. He 
 lay sprawling on his breast with coat-tails outspread 
 and looked like some misshapen beast or huge toad 
 or great black round beetle. He was in pain, appar- 
 ent from the convulsive working of his hands, open- 
 ing and clutching at the sand. My shots, as I
 
 366 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 afterwards learned, had not been especially fine, 
 were they judged by the standards of pistol fire, 
 but they had been singularly effective one through 
 the bowels and one through the hip and he could 
 not in any case have lived long. His little eyes were 
 fixed upon me with malignant hatred, as would have 
 been those of a wounded, helpless spider; his face 
 was ashen, which brought out with sinister distinct- 
 ness the line of his black, close-trimmed, pointed 
 beard and waxed moustaches. 
 
 " Thus ends the dream of empire, monsieur," I 
 said, looking down upon him. 
 
 " Water ! " he gasped. 
 
 " That brine ? " I asked, pointing at the sea. 
 
 "What other? be quick!" 
 
 He was in agony. I thrust my revolver into my 
 pocket and hurried to the marge. 
 
 Jean and Pilon were fighting a battle of their 
 own. Since the latter had flung away his weapon, 
 Jean had put away his pistol also, trusting to bare 
 hands. The man in the boat caught up an oar to 
 strike my companion, but Jean seized the blade of 
 it and thus they tugged. Pilon's face was one of 
 fury, a baffled animal's, with curses pouring from 
 his mouth; that of Jean's was cold, gray, expres- 
 sionless, as if cast in iron, and he had one hand on 
 the gunwale, was wading beside the boat, was wait- 
 ing an opportunity to spring in and close with his 
 antagonist. 
 
 Shouts came from the beach. Through the fog I
 
 LAST OF THE TALE 367 
 
 could see forms running towards us. I scooped up 
 a double handful of water and turned towards Del 
 Hervalle. It was only to drop it with a cry, to run 
 towards him. For while my back was turned he had 
 wriggled forwards what the effort cost him must 
 have been something dreadful and was stretching 
 a hand to the revolver which he had dropped. A 
 spring, a kick, and I sent it spinning far away. 
 
 " Mischief will not cease in you until you are 
 dead," I exclaimed harshly. " You think yet to 
 sting with your last breath." 
 
 A wan smile hovered on his lips, a semblance of 
 the old bland smile I knew so well. He struggled 
 over upon his back, where he seemed to rest easier. 
 
 " I think it is myself I shall have to sting, mon 
 Charles," he answered. 
 
 Men were running towards us, behind them were 
 others, and behind these still more, for cries could 
 be heard all down the beach, cries of alarm at the 
 shots which had echoed from the cliff. The runners 
 nearest were calling out, pointing at me. 
 
 " Bon Dieu, must I make a spectacle of dying for 
 the canaille f" Del Hervalle gasped. 
 
 " You have earned it." 
 
 " They may look at my body, not my soul," he 
 said between set teeth ; " you only shall have that 
 honor." 
 
 Flipping his hand into his bosom, he plucked out 
 a stiletto, small, bright, slender. Involuntarily a 
 cry of horror escaped me.
 
 368 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " This you shall not deprive me of at least," he 
 said, smiling once more. 
 
 The needle point rested upon his bosom. His 
 fingers tightened around the handle. 
 
 " Not that! " I exclaimed. 
 
 And I have often since wondered why I should 
 so cry out. Why indeed not thus? Was it not 
 fitting? If he were a villain, he had at any rate 
 been bold in his villainy. 
 
 He lay upon his back. His face smiled up at me 
 with colorless lips. 
 
 " Thus ends the dream of empire with a needle- 
 prick," said he in a musing voice. 
 
 Then, before my horrified eyes, the stiletto sank 
 until the handle alone was visible. The smile froze 
 upon his lips, his eyes opened a trifle; his fingers 
 slipped from the hilt and rested lightly upon his 
 bosom. And there was only the booming of the 
 surf, like a requiem. 
 
 Del Hervalle D'Urville the man of crimes, 
 iniquities, contrivances, schemes, plots, evil deeds, 
 was dead! 
 
 A hand touched my elbow. I looked round. Sur- 
 c,on was at my shoulder, beside him other men, all 
 staring upon the black form upon the sands. No 
 word of explanation was needed to make clear what 
 occurred; they asked no questions. 
 
 A shout of exultation from the water aroused us ; 
 we turned thither, to behold Pilon triumphant. He 
 had wrenched the oar free, beaten Jean off. Out
 
 LAST OF THE TALE 369 
 
 and eastward the little craft had been blown by the 
 wind; its bow swung away from the island; but 
 Jean still followed, intent, undaunted, relentless. 
 Now the water washed about his waist, he waded 
 deeper, Pilon struck at him, cursed him, mocked 
 him, laughed aloud. 
 
 Suddenly Jean brought forth his hand and shook 
 water from the weapon it held. Fascinated by the 
 drama being played before our eyes and seen 
 through the mist indistinctly, we followed along 
 the beach. Now Pilon uttered a cry, he dropped 
 his oar; but it was too late to crouch under cover 
 of the gunwale, for Jean fired. A scream burst 
 from the sailor's lips that rang among the cliffs, 
 a scream of anguish; and his body pitched for- 
 ward and sank beneath the water. Jean turned 
 about. Without another look he waded shoreward, 
 came dripping out of the sea, his work done. 
 
 Slowly we returned to the spot where the body 
 of Del Hervalle lay. Each moment new arrivals 
 augmented our number, until finally the whole vil- 
 lage, men, women, and children, stood in a circle 
 peering at it in silence. Even Mr. Moore, Mr. 
 Fenton, and the gentleman from the State Depart- 
 ment had caught the contagion, following the pur- 
 suit. A warm hand crept into mine Betty's. 
 Tears of happiness shone in her eyes, for I was 
 alive, free, and unharmed. 
 
 The approach of night, hastened by the fog, was 
 darkening earth.
 
 370 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " Am I to consider myself still under investiga- 
 tion, Monsieur the Mayor?" I asked. 
 
 " There is no need," Surgon replied. " The guilt 
 of Senor Del Hervalle and Pilon was established 
 beyond all doubt and they have paid the penalty. 
 Esper alone remains." 
 
 " I promised him immunity," said I. " He helped 
 me to escape and further testified in my behalf. 
 Where is the rascal ? " 
 
 "Here, master." 
 
 He stood a little way on my right, holding my hat 
 before him with both hands. He gazed at Del 
 Hervalle thoughtfully. 
 
 " Thus you might have ended," said I, pointing. 
 
 " But I did not, master." 
 
 " Give me my hat." 
 
 " It is well that I fetched it, or you would have 
 caught cold in the head and it is Pilon, after 
 all, who is pickled," he added. 
 
 " Get away with you," said I, weary of his 
 nonsense. 
 
 " Yes, master." 
 
 Under the directions of Surc.on certain fishermen 
 took up the body of Del Hervalle to carry it to 
 the village ; so with all Lavouche as a cortege it was 
 borne down the beach. Mr. Fenton, Maitland, and 
 the two gentlemen with them, Mr. Moore and those 
 of his household clustered about me in turn pressing 
 my hand. Then I beheld the mayor lingering, un- 
 easy and downcast.
 
 LAST OF THE TALE 371 
 
 " What is it, Monsieur the Mayor ? " I asked. 
 
 " Ah, it is not as Monsieur the Mayor that I 
 would have you address me, only as Surgon. You 
 have said that you would have no friends but Jean 
 and Gaspard " He halted, unable to proceed. 
 
 " Come, is that all? " said I, stretching forth my 
 hand. 
 
 He seized it, radiant. " We are as children here 
 in Lavouche, we are simple," he exclaimed, " simple, 
 as Pilon said, but honest. We do not know the great 
 world outside and the evil men may do, such as 
 Sefior Del Hervalle sought to work against you." 
 
 " Let us forget all that has happened." 
 
 ".No, we will keep it for a shame to us. But 
 we shall love you more than ever, indeed, we have 
 always loved you in our hearts. It was only our 
 minds that were deceived." 
 
 " Lavouche shall always be dear to me," I an- 
 swered, and he went away happy. 
 
 Our party walked down the eastern shore of the 
 island, since Mr. Moore had invited the new-comers 
 to spend the night at his house. I begged to be 
 permitted to precede them, as I was anxious to 
 reach Stag Lodge and learn of Andrew's condition. 
 Thereupon Mr. Fenton informed me that he had 
 picked up the surgeon for whom I had wired, tak- 
 ing him at the solicitation of the division superin- 
 tendent aboard his own train, which he was glad 
 to do when he learned that it was at my urgent 
 demand the physician was coming to the island.
 
 372 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 " And he has been attending your servant these 
 two hours past," he concluded. 
 
 " I must go to Andrew at once notwithstanding," 
 I answered. " He saved my life, and my heart is 
 heavy for him." 
 
 "Go, by all means," Mr. Moore said. "You 
 can return to Moore House later, as Mr. Fenton 
 says that the surgeon brought with him a trained 
 nurse. You must eat, as well as the rest of us; 
 all of you shall be fed at my table." 
 
 "Very well," said I, and hurried forward. 
 
 Then Betty flew to my side. " I '11 go with you, 
 for I also love Andrew." 
 
 It was not until we were out of sight of the 
 others, past Moore wharf and come almost to Stag 
 Lodge, that I clasped Betty in my arms. So much 
 had been gone through, so much suffered, so many 
 dangers escaped, that love and happiness welled in 
 my breast. Her dear eyes looked into mine with 
 trust and joy; her arms clung to me. Nothing 
 should ever divide us, the sweetest, truest, most loyal 
 heart in the world and mine. 
 
 " The ocean is wide, but not as wide as our love," 
 said I. " It beats and throbs and flows forever, 
 yet not so greatly as our love ; it has tides, but our 
 hearts will have none; there are fogs and storms 
 and night our love will not know them. It 
 plumbs the waters, it runs to meet the dawn, it 
 ascends and it sits in heaven. My soul gives itself 
 to you, dearest."
 
 LAST OF THE TALE 373 
 
 Awhile after, as we went, I perceived Esper fol- 
 lowing afar off. Had he seen? He walked with a 
 finger laid upon his nose. Well, I cared not all 
 the world might know my love for this dear girl 
 at my side whose hand clasped mine. 
 
 In Stag Lodge I found the surgeon and Billy 
 sitting before the fireplace, the one grave and the 
 other glum. But at my appearance the latter sprang 
 up, ran to me and wrung my hand. 
 
 " All is well, all is well ? " he demanded. 
 
 " All 's well with me," I responded. " The in- 
 vestigation is over, I 'm proven innocent, Pilon and 
 Del Hervalle were shown to be guilty and now 
 they 're dead." 
 
 " Dead ! " His eyes opened wide. 
 
 " Yes, Jean killed the one and Del Hervalle died 
 by his own hand." 
 
 " Of course I had to miss the fun," he sighed. 
 
 " But you 've done me a nobler service here than 
 you could have performed there. Your part was 
 true friendship." 
 
 " You know of course I would not have wished 
 to do anything else than I did." 
 
 "And Andrew?" 
 
 " Doing finely. The bullet is out and he is sleep- 
 ing. The old fellow has a constitution like an ox 
 simple life, early hours, and all that, you know." 
 
 Now indeed was I happy. To know that he would 
 recover, be my old faithful Andrew again, caused 
 my cup of joy to run over. I would have a peep
 
 374 THE ISLE OF STRIFE 
 
 at him ! So tiptoeing into the bedroom, Betty with 
 me, I beheld him fast asleep. His silver hair had 
 been smoothed, his eyes were closed, he breathed 
 softly and regularly. The nurse smiled, raised a 
 finger, and we went out as noiselessly as we had 
 entered. Dear old Andrew ! 
 
 " I am Monsieur Woodwork's new valet-de- 
 chambre," I heard a familiar voice remark. 
 
 Esper stood before the fireplace, very much at 
 home. 
 
 " By Heaven, you need a bath then," the surgeon 
 stated, with a puff at his pipe. 
 
 " That is very true. Circumstances of late have 
 caused me to suffer inconveniences, Monsieur the 
 Doctor, among them a lack of washing I will 
 presently shine with soap and water." 
 
 Suddenly a thought struck me. 
 
 " What became of Davis ? " I asked him. 
 
 " Nom de chien, he vanished into the sands when 
 every one ran after you; he hastened to a boat, 
 pushed off, and rowed across to the mainland. I, 
 who had stopped to secure your hat, caught him 
 by the elbow. ' Monsieur, it is impolite to go with- 
 out making a farewell/ I said. But he was in 
 anxiety it appeared. ' Damn you, out of the way ! ' 
 he answered. So I sent a little stone after him 
 to give him more haste, which struck him on the 
 leg and accomplished its purpose, master." 
 
 I turned to Betty. 
 
 " This Esper is to be my valet," I said, smiling.
 
 LAST OF THE TALE 375 
 
 " I purchased my escape from Pilon's house on that 
 condition." 
 
 "This fellow!" 
 
 Esper bowed. 
 
 "I am a very good valet, mademoiselle, also 
 I am very discreet." 
 
 Now did he refer to what he had seen on the 
 beach, I wondered? 
 
 " This poor Andrew," he went on, " I will cure 
 him. I have been something of a doctor, among 
 other things. I am acquainted with herbs, poultices, 
 and cupping." At which the surgeon sniffed. 
 
 " Come, we shall all go to Moore House for 
 supper," said I. 
 
 The surgeon knocked the coal out of his pipe 
 and rose, while Billy secured their hats. As we 
 passed from the house to the beach, I looked back 
 at its lamp-lit windows, a hundred emotions rising 
 in my breast. 
 
 A shadow spoke at my elbow. 
 
 " A most excellent jest is finished, master." 
 
 And so it was a jest of Fate, an entanglement 
 that had taken three men from earth in the jesting. 
 
 THE END
 
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