Chapter Seven.
Don Sebastian Alvaros threatens trouble.
“Second breakfast” in the West Indies is the equivalent of luncheon in England, except that the former is perhaps the more elaborate meal of the two; when therefore Jack, escorted by Carlos, entered the fine, airy dining-room, it at once became evident that he was about to sit down to a very substantial repast, for which he was not at all sorry, as the long journey had given him a most excellent appetite. Moreover, he had by this time recovered the equilibrium which had been so seriously disturbed by his first sight of Señorita Isolda, and had again found the use of his tongue; it was therefore a very gay and happy quintette that arranged itself around the well-furnished table. Jack was of course by this time on almost as intimate terms with Don Hermoso as he was with Carlos, and he presently discovered that the ladies were disposed to treat him rather as an old friend than as a new acquaintance; and he told himself that his visit to Cuba promised to be one of the most pleasant experiences of his life.
The meal over, Don Hermoso excused himself, as there were naturally many matters demanding his earliest attention after his long absence from home; while the Señora had her household affairs to attend to. Carlos therefore took the task of entertaining Jack upon himself, with his sister as chief assistant, and proposed a ride, as there were many charming spots in the neighbourhood that he wished his friend to see. The horses were accordingly ordered, and the three young people, despising the usual afternoon siesta, set off, taking a path which led upward through a wild and most picturesque ravine, down which a mountain stream brawled and foamed, the murmurous tumult of its waters mingling musically with the sough of the wind in the multitudinous trees that clothed the hillsides, and imparting a most welcome sensation of coolness to the atmosphere. They rode at a foot pace, first because they were in no hurry, and secondly because the path was narrow and rough, there being room only for two riders abreast; Carlos therefore led the way, with Jack and Doña Isolda following close at his horse’s tail. They had not been ten minutes under way when they arrived at a spot the marvellous natural beauty of which caused Jack to exclaim aloud in his astonishment: for upon rounding a bend in the path they found themselves in a little amphitheatre, about five hundred yards across, the tree-clad sides of which rose precipitously to a great height on either hand, and were gorgeous with great clustering blooms of every imaginable hue, from purest white through every shade of colour to a deep rich purple that looked almost black where seen in shadow; while the air, almost motionless down in the hollow, was heavy with the mingling of a thousand exquisite perfumes. The floor of this amphitheatre consisted of a great basin of rock, partly filled with fine white sand brought down from the uplands during countless generations by the flow of the stream, the basin being brimful of crystal-clear water which came pouring and plashing into it from above over a series of miniature cataracts, the lowest of which, about twelve feet high, impinged upon a small ledge of rock which projected into the basin for the space of about a yard.
“This,” said Carlos, “is our swimming bath, to which we often come for a dip in the early morning; it is absolutely private, all this being our own property, and nobody but ourselves ever passes here. What think you of it, Jack; is it not perfect?”
Jack pronounced it magnificent, and there and then undertook to join Carlos in a dip on the following and every other morning during his stay. The water was about twenty feet deep, and the place was consequently perfect for swimming in. By the side of the road, at a spot where there happened to be a few square yards of level ground, the surface had been cleared of the luxuriant undergrowth, and a small bathing house, containing two dressing-rooms—one for either sex—had been erected; and here the bathing dresses were kept and the necessary changes of costume made.
Having spent a little time in admiring this glorious bathing pool, the party moved onward again, and, following the ever-rising path, at length, after a most delightful ride of about five miles through a continuous succession of scenes of surpassing beauty, emerged upon an open tableland, from which a most extensive and glorious view of mile upon mile of the southern slope of the island was to be obtained, with the sea shining in soft, opalescent tints beyond, and the Isla de Pinos, with its three curiously shaped mountains, lying on the horizon. The white sails of a few coasting craft gleamed pearl-like here and there, just discernible at that distance, and Jack searched the watery expanse for some sign of the Thetis; but she had vanished. Doubtless she was on the other side of Cape San Antonio by this time, and therefore well on her way round to Havana. Being thus reminded of the existence of the yacht, Jack was suddenly inspired with a brilliant idea, which he promptly communicated to Carlos.
“Look here, Carlos, old chap,” he exclaimed, “if the yacht is not likely to be required for other service just at present, why should not we all take a cruise in her round the island and over to Jamaica, from whence we might even go on to some of the other islands? I am sure that the trip would do your mother and sister a vast amount of good. Have you ever been out of Cuba, Señorita?”
“Never,” answered Doña Isolda. “I was born here, and, less lucky than Carlos, was also educated here; so that I know nothing whatever about the great outside world, save what I have read of it in books. Havana is my conception of a great and handsome city, so you may guess how ignorant I am, and how intensely I should enjoy seeing other places. Do you think, Carlos mio, that Señor Singleton’s suggestion is possible of realisation?”
“It may be,” answered Carlos, a little doubtfully. “Everything will, of course, depend upon what news may come from the Junta. I know that the Padre has placed the vessel unreservedly at their disposal—rather unwisely, I think—and I shall be very much surprised if they do not make the fullest possible use of her. But, of course, if she is not likely to be required for a month or two, I think it would be an admirable plan for us all to go for a cruise in her. It would tend to avert suspicion from her, too, for I am pretty certain that it will not be wise to leave her lying idle in Havana or in any other of our harbours. I will mention the matter to the Padre at the first favourable opportunity.”
“I am sure it would do Mamma a vast amount of good,” remarked Señorita Isolda; “and it might also have the effect of putting a stop to the visits of Señor Alvaros, who is fast becoming an unendurable nuisance.”
“Indeed! In what way?” demanded Carlos sharply.
“Why,” answered Señorita Isolda, “we are never free from him. He rides over here three or four times a week, and makes himself as much at home as though the place belonged to him, although he has never received the slightest encouragement either from Mamma or from me. And then he bores me with his unwelcome attentions.”
“Ah!” ejaculated Carlos through his clenched teeth; “somehow I feared as much. The fellow must be choked off by some means. The question is, how to do it without giving offence. You see,” he continued, turning to Jack, “we Cubans are in an exceedingly awkward position, and are obliged to walk most circumspectly. We are compelled to submit to many things that are utterly distasteful to us, for if we did not we should at once be suspected of harbouring designs inimical to the Government; and, once regarded with suspicion, our liberty, our property, ay, even our lives, would be imperilled.”
“A confoundedly unpleasant state of things, in truth,” said Jack; “but surely it does not extend so far that you dare not give a man a hint that his visits to your house are distasteful?”
“Indeed it does, though,” answered Carlos. “Suppose, for example, that my father were to hint to this fellow Alvaros that he is not wanted here, and that his visits must cease, the probability is that the man—who, I may mention, is captain of a regiment of infantry—would at once proceed to hint to his superiors that all is not right with us, when there is no knowing what dreadful thing might happen. The fact is, that the pride of these fellows is so intense and so sensitive, and they are withal so destitute of principle, that if a man dares to offend one of them he at once makes every Spaniard in the island his enemy.”
“How would it be if I were to pick a quarrel with him?” suggested Jack. “They would not dare to interfere with me.”
“I am by no means so sure of that,” answered Carlos. “They could do nothing to you openly, of course; but open, honest, daylight methods are not regarded here with very much respect just at present, and you might perhaps mysteriously disappear. Oh, no, it would never do for you to attempt to interfere, Jack! On the contrary, you must most studiously refrain from anything and everything that would be in the least likely to breed ill blood between you and the Spaniards, because—who knows?—we may need your help ere long. And that you could only effectively give by maintaining good relations with the Government and its representatives.”
Conversing thus, they at length turned their horses’ heads and slowly took their way back toward the house; and by the time that they reached it Jack found himself upon terms of almost as complete intimacy with Señorita Isolda as those he was on with her brother. For, despite the intense pride which seems to be so strongly marked a characteristic of all who have Spanish blood in their veins, Señorita Isolda was a most charmingly ingenuous, unsophisticated girl, frank and open as the day; furthermore, she had been so long accustomed to hear Jack spoken of admiringly by Carlos that she had insensibly acquired a strong predisposition in his favour; and, finally, and quite contrary to rule, when at length she met him in the flesh she instantly decided that this stalwart, handsome young Englishman was all that Carlos had represented him to be—and very much more.
Upon reaching the house they found, to their disgust, that Captain Alvaros had again turned up, ostensibly for the purpose of bidding Don Hermoso and Carlos welcome back to Cuba and hearing from them an account of their holiday wanderings in Europe. Jack found the Spanish soldier to be a man of about thirty-two years of age, tall, swarthy, and by no means ill-looking: but such physical advantages as he possessed were heavily discounted by a pair of piercing, black, sinister-looking eyes, and a distinctly arrogant, overbearing manner; the man evidently thought well of himself, and took no trouble to conceal the fact. He greeted Jack’s appearance in Señorita Isolda’s company with something very nearly approaching a scowl, and coldly acknowledged Señora Montijo’s formal introduction of the young man with an air of careless hauteur that was eloquent of his disapproval of the young man’s presence in the house, which he further emphasised by thereafter contemptuously ignoring Jack—for a time. Carlos flushed with angry annoyance as he beheld this treatment of his friend, for which he apologised as soon as the pair were alone together; but Jack’s sunny temperament was not so easily ruffled, and he simply laughed, saying:
“Don’t you let that worry you, old chap; it doesn’t hurt me in the least. I don’t care a brass button whether the man likes or dislikes me; I care neither for his friendship nor his enmity. I am not of a quarrelsome disposition, as you know, but should he attempt to be actively disagreeable, or to force a quarrel upon me, I have no doubt that I shall know how to take care of myself.”
When the party again met at the dinner-table there were indications that Señor Alvaros had made up his mind to treat Jack as a person much too insignificant to be worthy of the least notice: but he soon found that he must either abandon this line of policy or himself be left out in the cold, for the Montijos, one and all, persisted in including Jack in the conversation; and very quietly and unobtrusively, but none the less firmly, contrived to make Señor Alvaros understand that the young Englishman was already regarded as one of themselves. Seeing this, he changed his tactics and artfully endeavoured to entrap Jack into an expression of opinion upon the politics of the island: but the young man was not to be so easily caught; he laughingly disclaimed any knowledge of or interest in political questions of any kind, and pointed out that in any case his acquaintance with Cuba was altogether too recent to have enabled him to form even the most elementary opinion on the question, at the same time mentioning as a general axiom that Englishmen were usually regarded as cherishing a weakness in favour of good government and the maintenance of law and order.
And later on in the evening, when the party adjourned to the drawing-room, the soldier again found his endeavours to pose as a persona grata quietly ignored. He would fain have monopolised the society of Doña Isolda for the remainder of the evening, and attempted to carry her off with him to a remote corner of the room, but Carlos would have none of it. His sister had a good voice, and had been taught to use it to the best advantage, and he wanted his friend Jack to hear her sing some of the old-fashioned Andalusian folksongs, which she did with cheerfulness and alacrity, promptly recognising Carlos’ intention and eagerly seconding it. Then Carlos proclaimed that Jack was a singer and an accomplished pianist, and insisted that his friend should sing and play to them; and when Señor Alvaros privately confided to Señorita Isolda his opinion that English music was simply barbarous, and Englishmen utterly unendurable, the young lady unhesitatingly declared that she entirely disagreed with him. Altogether, Señor Alvaros spent a distinctly unpleasant evening, for which circumstance he blamed the young Englishman; and as he rode back to his quarters that night he cursed the English nation freely, and Jack in particular, for whom, he decided, there was no room in Cuba. And the worst of it all was that not a word had been said, not a thing had been done, to which he could openly take the slightest exception.
But how was this pestilent young cub of an Englishman to be got rid of? That was the question that worried Alvaros during the greater part of that night and the whole of the next day. The first impulse of the Spaniard was to deprive the Montijo family of his (Alvaros’) countenance and society until, alarmed at the loss, they should dismiss the cause of it: but upon further reflection he came to the conclusion that it might be unwise to adopt so very drastic a step, for two very good and sufficient reasons, the first of which was that, being impecunious himself, he had fully made up his mind to marry Doña Isolda and thus acquire a substantial interest in the Montijo property and estates, and was therefore unwilling to do anything which might possibly jeopardise the position which he had worked so hard to gain as a friend of the family; while the second reason was that he was by no means sure that his abstention would be regarded by the Montijos as a matter of very great moment. Then it was most unfortunate that Jack was not only an Englishman, but a young man doubtless of position and substance, or he would not be the owner of so costly a plaything as a steam-yacht. Had he been anything but an Englishman, or an American, it would have been comparatively easy to have had him arrested upon a charge of complicity with the insurgents; but these nations had a most awkward and inconvenient habit of looking after their people, and whenever one of them chanced to get into trouble their Governments always insisted upon instituting the most exhaustive enquiries into the matter, and were wont to make it understood, with almost brutal distinctness of manner, that they would not tolerate anything that bore the slightest suspicion of irregularity. He had heard it whispered that the authorities had received a hint from their spies on the other side to look out for a yacht which was suspected of having on board contraband for the use of the insurgents; but he argued that the vessel in question could scarcely be the craft owned by this young man, for the simple reason that there appeared to be nothing of a surreptitious or secret nature in his movements, or in those of his yacht, which, as he understood, was, or would very shortly be, in Havana harbour. No, the more he thought about it, the more profoundly was he convinced that it would be impossible to bring about Jack’s removal by an attempt to involve him in the political unrest of the islanders. Some other means must be tried. He wondered whether, perchance, it might be possible to frighten the young man into an early departure from the casa Montijo and the island. It was not a very easy matter to frighten an Englishman, he knew, and this particular one impressed Alvaros as being especially unpromising in that respect; still, there was no harm in trying. Accordingly when, upon the next day but one, the Spaniard again rode over to call upon the Montijos, he made an opportunity to take Jack on one side for a moment and ask him whether he had yet fixed a date for his departure from the island.
“A date for my departure?” echoed Jack. “Certainly not, Señor. On the contrary, it is my intention to make quite a long stay here, and see Cuba from end to end. It is even possible that I may decide to purchase a property on the island, and try my luck as a tobacco planter.”
“I fervently trust not, Señor, for your own sake,” said Alvaros. “Permit me to offer you a little friendly advice. Cut short your visit, and leave Cuba at once. I advise you, as a friend, to do so.”
“Indeed!” said Jack. “And why, pray? Of course you have some good reason for offering me this advice, Señor Alvaros?”
“Yes,” answered Alvaros, “I have; and it is this. Cuba is in a most unsettled state at present. She is seething with rebellion, and all strangers are regarded with the utmost suspicion by the Government. Nothing would be easier than for you to find yourself involved in one of the numerous conspiracies which we know to be brewing; and, once involved, you would find it exceedingly difficult, if not absolutely impossible, to extricate yourself. Therefore take my advice, and go forthwith. It is good advice; for I tell you plainly that you are not wanted here!”
“Thanks!” answered Jack coolly. “I am very much obliged to you, Señor Alvaros, for the friendly feeling which has prompted you to give me what I suppose you wish me to understand as a ‘warning’. But I must tell you candidly that I believe you are taking a very exaggerated view of the danger—if danger there be, which I greatly doubt. But, danger or no danger, I shall still carry out my original plans; and if danger should come—well, I daresay I shall be quite able to take care of myself.”
So that was no good! The Spaniard had feared that it would not be of much use to attempt to frighten an Englishman; and so it had proved. Well, there were other ways, and those must be tried.
After Alvaros had left, that night, and the family had separated, Jack accompanied Carlos into the room of the latter, and related what had passed between the Spanish officer and himself, asking Carlos for his opinion upon the subject.
“I will tell you, Jack, just exactly what I think,” answered Carlos, after considering the matter for some few minutes. “You must know that Captain Alvaros made our acquaintance about a year ago, at a ball given in Havana by the Capitan-General of the island. After that he contrived to meet one or more of us on frequent occasions; and finally he requested the Padre’s permission to visit us. We none of us particularly liked him; but it is not altogether wise policy to offend a Spaniard, especially if he happens to be an official, in these times, and so the Padre rather reluctantly gave his consent, and Alvaros accordingly called here occasionally. While we have been away, however, it appears that the man has somehow contrived to get himself posted at Pinar del Rio, which, as you are aware, is not very far from here; and I learn that since then his calls have been so frequent as to have become a thorough nuisance. Now, from what my sister tells me, I have a suspicion that Alvaros is anxious to contract a matrimonial alliance with our family—which, I may tell you at once, Jack, he will not be permitted to do; and my belief is that the fellow simply cannot endure to see another man in Isolda’s society, and that is why he wants you to go. But of course you won’t; and I am very glad indeed that you made that quite clear to him. He was evidently trying to scare you off what he apparently chooses to consider his preserves; but if he knew you as well as I do, Jack, he would understand that it needs a good deal more than the vague hints of a captain of Spanish infantry to frighten you. Now, my advice to you is to take no notice whatever of the beggar, and if he tries it on again—well, just repeat what you said to-night. And—perhaps it will be better not to mention the matter, at all events just yet, to the Padre, or in fact anyone else.”
“All right, old chap,” answered Jack; “you may trust me. But, look here, Carlos, I hope that my presence in this house is not going to involve any of you in trouble or difficulty of any sort with the Government. If I thought that there was the least likelihood of that—”
“My dear chap, there isn’t,” interrupted Carlos. “We are one of the oldest and most influential families in Cuba; and the Spaniards know perfectly well that to meddle with us would be to make a very serious mistake. So do not allow any idea of that kind to worry you in the least. You will stay on here just as long as you like; and the longer you stay the better we shall all be pleased. Besides, there is going to be a rising here before long, and then you will have an opportunity to witness several very interesting things.”
Two days later Captain Alvaros again presented himself; but this time, instead of entering the house in his usual free and easy manner, he enquired for Don Hermoso and, upon learning that that gentleman was in his office, sent in a formal request for a private interview. He was at once admitted, and found Don Hermoso seated at a large writing table, which was strewed with account books and papers. The Don accorded his visitor a courteous if somewhat stiff welcome, and, having requested him to be seated, enquired in what way he could be of service—for this formal visit had somehow suggested to Don Hermoso the idea that Captain Alvaros desired to borrow money from him.
“Such a visit as this from me, Don Hermoso, can have but one object, and I think you will have no difficulty in guessing what that object is,” replied Alvaros, with a somewhat embarrassed laugh.
“Pardon me, Señor,” answered Don Hermoso; “you credit me with a much larger measure of perspicacity than I can lay claim to. To be perfectly frank with you, I cannot conceive why you should desire a private interview with me, unless—how shall I put it?—unless—you find yourself in a position of temporary pecuniary embarrassment; and in that case I should have thought that—”
“Señor Montijo,” exclaimed Alvaros, starting to his feet indignantly, “do you wish to insult me?”
“Certainly not, Señor,” answered Don Hermoso blandly. “Pray be seated, and dismiss from your mind at once any such unworthy suspicion. Why should I desire to insult you? But if I am mistaken in my guess as to the object of your visit, would it not be best for you to state your business with me explicitly?”
“I will, Señor,” answered Alvaros. “To be both explicit and brief, then, I have called upon you this morning for the purpose of demanding the hand of your daughter, Señorita Isolda, in marriage.”
“To demand—the hand of—my daughter—in marriage?” gasped Don Hermoso in amazement.
“Certainly, Señor Montijo,” retorted Alvaros haughtily. “Surely there is nothing so very extraordinary in making such a demand, is there?”
“Nothing very extraordinary, certainly,” returned Don Hermoso, who had quickly recovered a grip upon himself; “but something most entirely unexpected, I assure you. You do me and my family too much honour, Señor Alvaros. I presume you have some reason for supposing that your suit will be acceptable to my daughter?”
“I have never had any reason to suppose otherwise, Señor,” answered Alvaros. “But even were the Señorita to entertain any foolish objections—or imagine that she entertained them—I presume it would make no difference in your decision. If she does not actually entertain any sentiment of love for me at this moment I have not a shadow of doubt as to my ability to inspire that sentiment as soon as we are married. The young lady will raise no objection, I presume, if she is given to understand that the marriage would be in conformity with your wishes; and I imagine it is quite unnecessary for me to point out to you how very greatly to your advantage and that of your whole family such a marriage would be.”
“Advantage, did you say, Señor?” retorted Don Hermoso. “Pardon me, I am afraid that I am unusually dull to-day, but I am compelled to confess that for the moment I scarcely see in what respect such an alliance would be an advantage to us. If it would not be troubling you too much, would you kindly explain?”
“Surely, Señor Montijo, it ought not to be very difficult for you to see how highly advantageous it would be for you and yours to be allied in marriage to an officer of some distinction—if I may be permitted to say so—in the Spanish Army!” exclaimed Alvaros, in tones of haughty surprise. “I am a scion of one of the best families of Spain, while you, if you will pardon me for reminding you of the fact, are merely a Cuban; and in these troublous days no Cuban is entirely free from suspicion—”
“Enough, Señor!” interrupted Don Hermoso indignantly. “You appear to despise me as ‘merely a Cuban’; but you either forget, or are ignorant of, the fact that my father was born in Spain, and there are few Spanish names that stand higher than that of Montijo. You have made a mistake, Señor, in presuming to claim superiority for yourself over my family. I decline the honour of the alliance which you have proposed; and I trust that, under these circumstances, you will see the propriety of discontinuing your visits to my house.”
For nearly a full minute Alvaros glared at Don Hermoso, as though he could scarcely believe that he had heard aright, could scarcely credit the fact that a “rascally Cuban”, as he mentally termed Montijo, had had the unparalleled, the unspeakable audacity to spurn—ay, spurn was the correct word—an alliance with him, Don Sebastian Alvaros, Captain in the army of His Majesty the King of Spain! It was unthinkable! It was an insult that could only be wiped out by blood! And yet it would be exceedingly awkward to quarrel with these people; for if he did it would put an end at once and for ever to any possibility of marriage with the daughter. And he simply must marry her, by hook or by crook: his honour demanded it, for he had already boasted freely among his fellow-officers of his conquest of the fairest maid in Cuba; and his credit also demanded it, for he had made the same boast to the money-lenders in Havana, and had raised considerable sums of money on the strength of it. Swallowing his rage, therefore, he made an attempt to retrace that false step by exclaiming:
“Pardon me, Don Hermoso, but I have been most unfortunate in my choice of words, and, believe me, you have entirely mistaken my meaning. What I really intended to convey was—”
But in that brief minute of silence Don Hermoso had read the man’s real character in his face, and had instantly come to the conclusion that he would rather see his daughter lying dead than in the power of such a ruffian; he therefore cut short the officer’s protestations by assuring him that his words admitted of no misinterpretation, and that therefore he must persist in his refusal.
“Very well, then,” exclaimed Alvaros, “if you prefer to have me for an enemy, instead of a friend and ally, be it so, Señor Montijo; I will not disappoint you. But beware! You have insulted me, and I am a man who never forgets or forgives an insult!”
And, springing to his feet, he dashed his braided cap on to his head, strode clanking and jingling to the door, and so took his departure without further word of farewell.