Chapter Thirty Seven.
Mysterious Communications.
A few moments suffice the ruined gamblers for their slight matutinal repast. After which, a decanter of Catalonian brandy and glasses are placed upon the table, with a bundle of Manilla cheroots, size number one.
While the glasses are being filled, and the cigars lighted, there is silence. Then Calderon calls upon his guest to impart the particulars of that visionary revelation, which promises to give them, at the same time, riches and revenge.
Taking a sip of the potent spirit, and a puff or two at his cigar, De Lara responds to the call. But first leaning across the table, and looking his confederate straight in the face, he asks, in an odd fashion—
“Are you a bankrupt, Faustino Calderon?”
“Of course I am. Why do you put the question?”
“Because I want to be sure, before making known to you the scheme I’ve hinted at. As I’ve told you, I’m after no child’s play. I ask again, are you a bankrupt?”
“And I answer you I am. But what has that to do with it?”
“A good deal. Never mind. You are one? You assure me of it?”
“I do. I’m as poor as yourself, if not poorer, after last night’s losses. I’d embarked all my money in the Monté concern.”
“But you have something besides money? This house and your lands?”
“Mortgaged—months ago—up to the eyes, the ears, crown of the head. That’s where the cash came from to set up the bank that’s broke—breaking me along with it.”
“And you’ve nothing left? No chance for starting it again?”
“Not a claco. Here I am apparently in my own house, with servants, such as they are, around me. It’s all in appearance. In reality, I’m not the owner. I once was, as my father before me; but can’t claim to be any longer. Even while we’re sitting here, drinking this Catalan, the mortgagee—that old usurer Martinez—may step in and turn—kick us both out.”
“I’d like him to try. He’d catch a Tartar, if he attempted to kick me out—he or anybody else just now, in my present humour. There’s far more reason for us to fear being pulled out by policemen, which makes it risky to stay talking. So let’s to the point at once—back to where we left off. On your oath, Faustino Calderon, you’re no longer a man of means?”
“On my oath, Francisco de Lara, I haven’t an onza left—no, not a peso.”
“Enough. Now that I know your financial status, we will understand one another; and without further circumlocution I shall make you a sharer of the bright thought that’s flashed across my brain.”
“Let me hear what it is. I’m all impatience.”
“Not so fast, Faustino. As I’ve already twice told you, it’s no child’s play; but a business that requires skill and courage. Above all, fidelity among those who may engage in it—for more than two are needed. It will want at least four good and true men. I know three of them; about the fourth I’m not so certain.”
“Who are the three?”
“Francisco de Lara, Manuel Diaz, and Raphael Rocas.”
“And the fourth, of whom you are dubious?”
“Faustino Calderon.”
“Why do you doubt me, De Lara?”
“Don’t call it doubting. I only say I’m not certain about you.”
“But for what reason?”
“Because you may be squeamish, or get scared. Not that there’s much real danger. There mayn’t be any, if the thing’s cleverly managed. But there must be no bungling; and, above all, no backing out—nothing like treason.”
“Can’t you trust me so far as to give a hint of your scheme? As to my being squeamish, I think, De Lara, you do me injustice to suppose such a thing. The experience of the last twenty-four hours has made a serious change in my way of viewing matters of morality. A man who has lost his all, and suddenly sees himself a beggar, isn’t disposed to be sensitive. Come, camarado! tell me, and try me.”
“I intend doing both, but not just yet. It’s an affair that calls for certain formalities, among them some swearing. Those who embark in it must be bound by a solemn oath; and when we all get together, that shall be done. Time enough then for you to know what I’m aiming at. Now, I only say, that if the scheme succeed, two things are sure, and both concern yourself, Faustino Calderon.”
“What are they? You can trust me with that much, I suppose?”
“Certainly I can, and shall. The first is, that you’ll be a richer man than you’ve ever been in your life, or at least since I’ve had the honour of your acquaintance. The second, that Don Gregorio Montijo will not leave California—that is, not quite so soon, nor altogether in the way he was wishing. You may have plenty of time yet, with opportunities, to press your suit with the fair Iñez.”
“Carramba! Secure me that, and I swear—”
“You needn’t set about swearing yet. You can do that when the occasion calls for it; and, I promise, you shall have the opportunity soon. Till then I’ll take your word. With one in love, as you believe yourself, that should be binding as any oath; especially when it promises such a rich reward.”
“You’re sure about Diaz and Rocas?”
“Quite so. With them there won’t be need for any prolonged conference. When a man sees the chance of getting sixty thousand dollars in a lump lot, he’s pretty certain to act promptly, and without being particular as to what that action is.”
“Sixty thousand dollars! That’s to be the share of each?”
“That, and more, maybe.”
“It makes one crazy—even to think of such a sum!”
“Don’t go crazed till you’ve got it; then you may.”
“If I do, it won’t be with grief.”
“It shouldn’t; since it will give you a fresh lease of sweet life; and renew your hopes of having the wife you want. But come; we must get away if we wish to avoid being taken away—though, I fancy, there’s nothing to apprehend for some hours yet. The gringos have gone on board their ship, and are not likely to come on shore again before breakfast. What with their last night’s revelry, it’ll take them some time to clear the cobwebs out of their eyes after waking up. Besides, if they should make it a law matter, there’ll be all the business of looking up warrants, and the like. They do such things rather slowly in San Francisco. Then there’s the ten miles out here; even if they strike our trail straight. No; we needn’t be in a hurry so far as that goes. But the other’s a thing that won’t keep, and must be set about at once. Fortunately, the road that takes us to a place of concealment, is the same we have to travel upon business; and that is to the rancho of Rocas. There I’ve appointed to meet Diaz, who’d have come with us here, but that he preferred staying all night in the town. But he’ll be here betimes, and we can all remain with old Rafael till this ugly wind blows past; which it will in a week, or soon as the English ship sails off. If not, we must keep out of sight a little longer, or leave San Francisco for good.”
“I hope we’ll not be forced to that. I shouldn’t at all like to leave it.”
“Like it or not, you may have no choice. And what does it signify where a man lives, so long as he’s got sixty thousand dollars to live on?”
“True; that ought to make any place pleasant.”
“Well; I tell you you’ll have it—maybe more. But not if we stand palavering here. Nos vamos!”
A call from Calderon summoned a servant, who is directed to have the horses brought to the door.
These soon appear, under the guidance of two ragged grooms; who, delivering them, see their masters mount and ride off they know not whither; nor care they so long as they are themselves left to idleness, with a plentiful supply of black beans, jerked-meat, and monté.
Soon the two horsemen disappear behind a ridge of hills; and the hypothecated house resumes its wonted look of desolation.