CHAPTER XLIV
MR. BANKER'S SPECULATION
That night Banker was greatly disturbed by surmises and conjecturesconcerning the presence of the two negroes in the French capital. He knewCheditafa quite as well as he knew Mok, and it was impossible that heshould be mistaken. It is seldom that any one sees a native African inParis, and he was positive that the men he had seen, dressed in expensivegarments, enjoying themselves like gentlemen of leisure, and living at agrand hotel, were the same negroes he had last seen in rags and shreds,lodged in a cave in the side of a precipice, toiling and shuddering underthe commands of a set of desperadoes on a desert coast in South America.There was only one way in which he could explain matters, and that wasthat the band had had some great success, and that one or more of itsmembers had come to Paris, and had brought the two negroes with them asservants. But of one thing he had no doubts, and that was that he wouldfollow up the case. He had met with no successes of late, but if any ofhis former comrades had, he wanted to meet those dear old friends. InParis he was not afraid of anything they might say about his desertion.
Very early in the morning Banker was in front of the Hotel Grenade. Hedid not loiter there; he did not wander up and down like a vagrant, orstand about like a spy. It was part of his business to be able to bepresent in various places almost at the same time, and not to attractnotice in any of them. It was not until after ten o'clock that he sawanything worthy of his observation, and then a carriage drove up to thefront entrance, and on the seat beside the driver sat Cheditafa, erect,solemn, and respectable. Presently the negro got down and opened the doorof the carriage. In a few moments a lady, a beautiful lady, handsomelydressed, came out of the hotel and entered the carriage. Then Cheditafashut the door and got up beside the driver again. It was a fine thing tohave such a footman as this one, so utterly different from the ordinarygroom or footman, so extremely _distingue_!
As the carriage rolled off, Banker walked after it, but not in such a wayas to attract attention, and then he entered a cab and told the _cocher_to drive to the Bon Marche. Of course, he did not know where the lady wasgoing to, but at present she was driving in the direction of thatcelebrated mart, and he kept his eye upon her carriage, and if she hadturned out of the Boulevard and away from the Seine, he would haveordered his driver to turn also and go somewhere else. He did not dare totell the man to follow the carriage. He was shaved, and his clothes hadbeen put in as good order as possible, but he knew that he did not looklike a man respectable enough to give such an order without excitingsuspicion.
But the carriage did go to the Bon Marche, and there also went the cab,the two vehicles arriving at almost the same time. Banker paid his farewith great promptness, and was on the pavement in time to see thehandsomely dressed lady descend and enter the establishment. As she wentin, he took one look at the back of her bonnet. It had a little greenfeather in it. Then he turned quickly upon Cheditafa, who had shut thecarriage door and was going around behind it in order to get up on theother side.
"Look here," whispered Banker, seizing the clerical butler by theshoulder, "who is that lady? Quick, or I'll put a knife in you."
At these words Cheditafa's heart almost stopped beating, and as hequickly turned he saw that he looked into the face of a man, an awfullywicked man, who had once helped to grind the soul out of him, in thatdreadful cave by the sea. The poor negro was so frightened that hescarcely knew whether he was in Paris or Peru.
"Who is she?" whispered again the dreadful Rackbird.
"Come, come!" shouted the coachman from his seat, "we must move on."
"Quick! Who is she?" hissed Banker.
"She?" replied the quaking negro. "She is the captain's wife. She is--"But he could say no more, for a policeman was ordering the carriage tomove on, for it stopped the way, and the coachman was callingimpatiently. Banker could not afford to meet a policeman. He released hishold on Cheditafa and retired unnoticed. An instant afterward he enteredthe Bon Marche.
Cheditafa climbed up to the side of the driver, but he missed hisfoothold several times, and came near falling to the ground. In all Paristhere was no footman on a carriage who looked less upright, less sedate,and less respectable than this poor, frightened black man.
Through the corridors and passageways of the vast establishment wentBanker. But he did not have to go far. He saw at a counter a little greenfeather in the back of a bonnet. Quietly he approached that counter, andno sooner had the attendant turned aside to get something that had beenasked for than Banker stepped close to the side of the lady, and leaningforward, said in a very low but polite voice:
"I am so glad to find the captain's wife. I have been looking for her."
He was almost certain, from her appearance, that she was an American, andso he spoke in English.
Edna turned with a start. She saw beside her a man with his hat off, arough-looking man, but a polite one, and a man who looked like a sailor.
"The captain!" she stammered. "Have you--do you bring me anything!A letter?"
"Yes, madam," said he. "I have a letter and a message for you."
"Give them to me quickly!" said she, her face burning.
"I cannot," he said. "I cannot give them to you here. I have much to sayto you, and much to tell you, and I was ordered to say it in private."
Edna was astounded. Her heart sank. Captain Horn must be in trouble, elsewhy such secrecy? But she must know everything, and quickly. Where couldshe meet the man? He divined her thought.
"The Gardens of the Tuileries," said he. "Go there now, please. I willmeet you, no matter in what part of it you are." And so saying, heslipped away unnoticed.
When the salesman came to her, Edna did not remember what she had askedto see, but whatever he brought she did not want, and going out, she hadher carriage called, and ordered her coachman to take her to the Gardensof the Tuileries. She was so excited that she did not wait for Cheditafato get down, but opened the door herself, and stepped in quickly, evenbefore the porter of the establishment could attend to her.
When she reached the Gardens, and Cheditafa opened the carriage door forher, she thought he must have a fit of chills and fever. But she had notime to consider this, and merely told him that she was going to walk inthe Gardens, and the carriage must wait.
It was some time before Edna met the man with whom she had made thisappointment. He had seen her alight, and although he did not lose sightof her, he kept away from her, and let her walk on until she was entirelyout of sight of the carriage. As soon as Edna perceived Banker, shewalked directly toward him. She had endeavored to calm herself, but hecould see that she was much agitated.
"How in the devil's name," he thought to himself, "did Raminez ever cometo marry such a woman as this? She's fit for a queen. But they say heused to be a great swell in Spain before he got into trouble, and Iexpect he's put on his old airs again, and an American lady will marryanybody that's a foreign swell. And how neatly she played into my hand!She let me know right away that she wanted a letter, which means, ofcourse, that Raminez is not with her."
"Give me the letter, if you please," said Edna.
"Madam," said Banker, with a bow, "I told you I had a letter and amessage. I must deliver the message first."
"Then be quick with it," said she.
"I will," said Banker. "Our captain has had great success lately, youknow, but he is obliged to keep a little in the background for thepresent, as you will see by your letter, and as it is a very particularletter, indeed, he ordered me to bring it to you."
Edna's heart sank. "What has happened?" said she. "Why--"
"Oh, you will find all that in the letter," said Banker. "The captain haswritten out everything, full and clear. He told me so himself. But I mustget through with my message. It is not from him. It is from me. As I justsaid, he ordered me to bring you this letter, and it was a hard thing todo, and a risky thing to do. But I undertook the job of giving it to you,in private, without anybody's knowing you had received it."
"What!" exclaimed Edna. "Nobody to know!"
"Oh, that is all explained," said he, hurriedly. "I can't touch on that.My affair is this: The captain sent me with the letter, and I have beento a lot of trouble to get it to you. Now, he is not going to pay me forall this,--if he thanks me, it will be more than I expect,--and I amgoing to be perfectly open and honest with you, and say that as thecaptain won't pay me, I expect you to do it; or, putting it in anotherway, before I hand you the letter I brought you, I want you to make me ahandsome present."
"You rascal!" exclaimed Edna. "How dare you impose on me in this way?"
It humiliated and mortified her to think that the captain was obliged toresort to such a messenger as this. But all sorts of men become sailors,and although her pride revolted against the attempted imposition, the manhad a letter written to her by Captain Horn, and she must have it.
"How much do you want?" said she.
"I don't mind your calling me names," said Banker. "The captain has madea grand stroke, you know, and everything about you is very fine, while Ihaven't three francs to jingle together. I want one thousand dollars."
"Five thousand francs!" exclaimed Edna. "Absurd! I have not that muchmoney with me. I haven't but a hundred francs, but that ought tosatisfy you."
"Oh, no," said Banker, "not at all. But don't trouble yourself. You havenot the money, and I have not the letter. The letter is in my lodgings. Iwas not fool enough to bring it with me, and have you call a policeman toarrest me, and take it for nothing. But if you will be here in two hours,with five thousand francs, and will promise me, upon your honor, that youwill bring no one with you, and will not call the police as soon as youhave the letter, I will be here with it."
"Yes," said Edna, "I promise."
She felt humbled and ashamed as she said it, but there was nothingelse to do. In spite of her feelings, in spite of the cost, she musthave the letter.
"Very good," said Banker, and he departed.
Banker had no lodgings in particular, but he went to a brasserie andprocured writing materials. He had some letters in his pocket,--old,dirty letters which had been there for a long time,--and one of them wasfrom Raminez, which had been written when they were both in California,and which Banker had kept because it contained an unguarded reference toRaminez's family in Spain, and Banker had thought that the informationmight some day be useful to him. He was a good penman, thisRackbird,--he was clever in many ways,--and he could imitate handwritingvery well, and he set himself to work to address an envelope in thehandwriting of Raminez.
For some time he debated within himself as to what title he should use inaddressing the lady. Should it be "Senora" or "Madame"? He inclined tothe first appellation, but afterwards thought that as the letter was togo to her in France, and that as most likely she understood French, andnot Spanish, Raminez would probably address her in the former language,and therefore he addressed the envelope to "Madame Raminez, by privatehand." As to the writing of a letter he did not trouble himself at all.He simply folded up two sheets of paper and put them in the envelope,sealing it tightly. Now he was prepared, and after waiting until theproper time had arrived he proceeded to the Gardens.
Edna drove to her hotel in great agitation. She was angry, she wasastounded, she was almost frightened. What could have happened toCaptain Horn?
But two things encouraged and invigorated her: he was alive, and he hadwritten to her. That was everything, and she would banish allspeculations and fears until she had read his letter, and, until she hadread it, she must keep the matter a secret--she must not let anybodyimagine that she had heard anything, or was about to hear anything. Bygood fortune, she had five thousand francs in hand, and, with these inher pocket-book, she ordered her carriage half an hour before the timeappointed.
When Cheditafa heard the order, he was beset by a new consternation. Hehad been greatly troubled when his mistress had gone to the Gardens thefirst time--not because there was anything strange in that, for any ladymight like to walk in such a beautiful place, but because she was alone,and, with a Rackbird in Paris, his lady ought never to be alone. She hadcome out safely, and he had breathed again, and now, now she wanted to goback! He must tell her about that Rackbird man. He had been thinking andthinking about telling her all the way back to the hotel, but he hadfeared to frighten her, and he had also been afraid to say that he haddone what he had been ordered not to do, and had told some one that shewas the captain's wife. But when he had reached the Gardens, he felt thathe must say something--she must not walk about alone. Accordingly, asEdna stepped out of the carriage, he began to speak to her, but, contraryto her usual custom, she paid no attention to him, simply telling him towait until she came back.
Edna was obliged to wander about for some time before Banker appeared.
"Now, then, madam," said he, "don't let us waste any time on thisbusiness. Have you the money with you?"
"I have," said she. "But before I give it to you, I tell you that I do sounder protest, and that this conduct of yours shall be reported. Iconsider it a most shameful thing, and I do not willingly pay you forwhat, no doubt, you have been sufficiently paid before."
"That's all very well," said Banker. "I don't mind a bit what you say tome. I don't mind your being angry--in fact, I think you ought to be. Inyour place, I would be angry. But if you will hand me the money--"
"Silence!" exclaimed Edna. "Not another word. Where is my letter?"
"Here it is," said Banker, drawing the letter he had prepared from hispocket, and holding it in such a position that she could read theaddress. "You see, it is marked, 'by private hand,' and this is theprivate hand that has brought it to you. Now, if you will count out themoney, and will hand it to me, I will give you the letter. That isperfectly fair, isn't it?"
Edna leaned forward and looked at it. When she saw the superscription,she was astonished, and stepped back.
"What do you mean?" she exclaimed, and was about to angrily assert thatshe was not Madame Raminez, when Banker interrupted her. The sight of herpocket-book within two feet of his hands threw him into a state ofavaricious excitement.
"I want you to give me that money, and take your letter!" he saidsavagely. "I can't stand here fooling."
"I want you to give me that money, and take your letter!"he said savagely.]
Edna firmly gripped her pocket-book, and was about to scream, but therewas no occasion for it. It had been simply impossible for Cheditafa toremain on the carriage and let her go into the Gardens alone; he hadfollowed her, and, behind some bushes, he had witnessed the interviewbetween her and Banker. He saw that the man was speaking roughly to herand threatening her. Instantly he rushed toward the two, and at the verytop of his voice he yelled:
"Rackbird! Rackbird! Police!"
Startled out of her senses, Edna stepped back, while Banker turned infury toward the negro, and clapped his hand to his hip pocket. ButCheditafa's cries had been heard, and down the broad avenue Banker sawtwo gendarmes running toward him. It would not do to wait here andmeet them.
"You devil!" he cried, turning to Cheditafa, "I'll have your blood beforeyou know it. As for you, madam, you have broken your word! I'll be evenwith you!" And, with this, he dashed away.
When the gendarmes reached the spot, they waited to ask no questions, butimmediately pursued the flying Banker. Cheditafa was about to join in thechase, but Edna stopped him.
"Come to the carriage--quick!" she said. "I do not wish to stay here andtalk to those policemen." Hurrying out of the Gardens, she drove away.
The ex-Rackbird was a very hard man to catch. He had had so muchexperience in avoiding arrest that his skill in that direction wasgenerally more than equal to the skill, in the opposite direction, of theordinary detective. A good many people and two other gendarmes joined inthe chase after the man in the slouch-hat, who had disappeared like amouse or a hare around some shrubbery. It was not long before thepursuers were joined by a man in a white cap, who asked several questionsas to what they were running af
ter, but he did not seem to take asustained interest in the matter, and soon dropped out and went about hisbusiness. He did not take his slouch-hat out of his pocket, for hethought it would be better to continue to wear his white cap for a time.
When the police were obliged to give up the pursuit, they went back tothe Gardens to talk to the lady and her servant who, in such strangewords, had called to them, but they were not there.