CHAPTER XII.
A PROFESSIONAL CONSPIRATOR.
Up till that time I knew nothing of Haigh's gifts in the musical line,and a bit of a revelation was in store for me. It did not come all atonce. The conductor of the opera company ("_reputado maestro D.Vincente Paoli_" the lean handbills styled him) opened the concert, andit was not until he and Haigh had some difference over the accentuationof a note in an air from Bizet's _I Pescatori di Perle_ that myshipmate strode over the piano stool.
The old professional's face was amusing to watch. Good-natured contemptfor amateur theory was very plainly written on it at first. That gaveway to surprise and wonder; and then these merged into undilutedadmiration.
Haigh had given his version of the disputed passage, and then saying,"This is rather a fine bit too," had played through the Moor's fiercelove song; after which, without any words being spoken, he verged offinto other melody which we could appreciate even though we failed torecognize its origin. It was all new to us, and after a while we beganto see that the player was his own composer.
He peered round from time to time, glancing over his shoulder at ourfaces, and once stopped to ask if we were bored.
"No, go on," said Paoli. "I never heard music like that before. It isnew. I do not say whether I like it. I cannot understand it all as yet,I who can comprehend all that even Wagner wrote. But it is wonderful.Continue.--No, nothing fresh, or my ears will be dazed with surfeit.Play again that--that piece, that study, I know not what you call it,which ran somehow thus"--the Italian hummed some broken snatches.--"Itseemed to show me a procession of damned spirits scrambling down themountains to hell, with troops of little devils blackmailing them onthe road. I know not how you call the thing, and like enough I havetotally missed its motive; but there is something about it that holdsme, fascinates me, and I would hear it again that I may understand."
Haigh grinned and complied, and then he played us more of his ownstuff, the most _outre_ that human ears had ever listened to, andwe marvelled still further. But having by this time fallen in with hisvein, we both of us could appreciate the luxuries he was pouring out.
"Signor," said Paoli enthusiastically, when it was over, "if you chose,you could found a new school of music."
"And call it the Vagabond School, eh?"
"Your airs are wild and weird, I own, but, signor, there is melody inevery note of them."
Haigh shrugged his shoulders. "Such melody, _maestro mio,_ as onlythe initiated can appreciate. You have been a wanderer, _maestro_,and so has Cospatric; therefore you understand. But the steady,industrious stay-at-homes, the people who think that they know whatmusic really is, and what its limits are, and all about it, what wouldthey say to these queer efforts of mine? They would not even dignifythem by the word 'distorted.' They would call them unmitigated bosh,and set me down as a virulent maniac. No, signori, I am not ambitious,and so I shall not lay myself open to that sort of snubbing. Comeacross to the other room for cigarettes and vermouth."
And there we sat till the melancholy chaunt of the _sereno_outside told us it was five o'clock, and, with the blessing of God, afine morning.
A certain black box, my one piece of salvage from the wreck at Genoa,came up from the ugly cutter next afternoon, and I am proud to say thatmy violin added another link between us.
For the next three days we had as good a time as one need wish toenjoy. Every evening after his duties at the theatre were over the oldItalian called us round his piano, and we feasted on what we all threeloved. And then the opera company took steamer to fulfil an engagementat Valencia. Haigh was for accompanying them. Amongst other reasons hehad a bit of a penchant for the soprano's understudy. But I said "No,"reminding him of the other business we had in hand, and pointing outhow much time had been frittered away already.
"Oh, as to that," said he, "I think we may as well pat the pocket thatholds what we've got, and resign ourselves to Kismet with regard to therest."
"It's scarcely wise to throw the sponge up yet. I am not hopeful, but Idon't despair."
"I'm letting the thing drop from my mind. However, if you've an idea,old chappie, let's hear it."
"What do you say to taking up another partner?"
"To what end? I fail to see what use a third would be. Still, give theproposed partner a name."
"Taltavull."
"Phew! I say, I rather bar meddling with politics, especially thewhite-hot explosive politics that he affects."
"So do I. I hate 'em. Still, if there's anybody able to ferret outwhere that Recipe's got to, and make the present holder disgorge, thatlong, lean, respectable-looking anarchist is the man. To begin with, hehas a far cleverer head on him than either of us can run to, and fromwhat I told you about his theories, he'll be as keen as knives whenonce he's shown the scent."
"But the man's not more than human," objected Haigh. "I don't see thathe'll be able to squint farther through a brick wall than either of uscould."
"He has more chances, for this reason: he's mixed up with socialundercurrents whose flow we can neither trace nor follow. These willtake him to places where we could not get, and show him things that wecould not find."
"Which fine metaphor boiled down signifies that you want to bring theman into partnership because he is a professional conspirator."
"Put it that way if you like. Also you must not forget that you and Iare at present dead-locked."
"So that we have all to gain and nothing to lose. Precisely; old man,you've put it in a nutshell. The only other thing is, do you thinkTaltavull would play fair?"
"We must risk that. It isn't a matter one could make out a paperagreement over, and sign our names to across a charter-party stamp. ButI think, from what I saw of him, Taltavull is not the man to do anunfair thing to any one who treats him well. But, as I say, we must beprepared to risk it."
"All right then," said Haigh; "so far as I'm concerned, I'm quitewilling. You do the recruiting. We might call ourselves the RaymondLully Exploitation Company, Limited."
I went out there and then about the errand, and found Taltavull at hisown house, sitting in a huge stuffed armchair. He was reading_L'Intransigeant_, and marking in blue pencil the points where heconsidered its racy blackguardisms were not sufficiently pungent.
The furniture of a Spanish sitting-room is made up, as a rule, ofwhitewash on the walls, and a good supply of eighteenpenny rush-seatedchairs scattered about the tiled floor. This is on account of theclimate, which at times makes all appearances of coolness to be highlyappreciated. But the anarchist was not a Spaniard, nor an Italian, noranything else so narrow. He was a man of no nationality, andcosmopolitan, and sublimely proud of that expansiveness. Consequently,he had taken his ideas of furniture from a more northern island, andhad his room well crammed with massive mahogany and dark oak, with theupholstery in dull crimson velvet. To be sure, no style could be moreunsuited to the climate, but then, on the other hand, it was a standingwitness of his emancipation from all restraint. The thing might bringhim discomfort, but that was a secondary matter, and he was prepared tosuffer for his faith's sake. Certain hard and fast principles alwayscame first with him, and in the heavy mahogany and the hot plush velvetnone of them were violated.
He put down his paper when I was announced, and said he was glad to seeme; and I honestly believe that the phrase of welcome was no empty one,even before he knew what I had come about. He seemed--I say it withoutconceit--to have taken a fancy to me at our first meeting.
The gist of my tale came out pretty rapidly, although I skipped nodetails, but waded through chapter and verse; but before it was halftold, Taltavull had sprung up from his seat, and was pacing backwardsand forwards over the thick carpet, fiercely waving his long arms, andlooking for all the world like a mechanical frock-coated skeleton. Ibroke off, and asked half-laughingly if I had offended him.
"I deem you, senor," cried he, "the greatest benefactor that my causeand I have ever known. I shall feel myself standing to the chin in yourdebt, whatever your c
onditions may be."
And with that I went on to the end of the yarn.
"Senor Cospatric," said he, when the last had been told, "it isdirectly contrary to the tenets of our creed to assist oneindividual--much less two--in piling up wealth beyond the dueproportion. But it is also our fixed maxim to deal honourably withthose who do the like by us. You, Don Miguel, are one of our enemies, apassive one, it is true, but none the less an enemy, because you arenot for us. Also I see with sorrow and certainty that you will neverbecome a convert. There is something in your blood, some hereditarytaint of conservatism, which forbids it. But for all that, you shallfind that we anarchists can keep faith with our opponents. You shallhave your rigid eighteen months' monopoly of the diamonds before webegin to stir the market and set about revolutionizing the world."
"Always supposing you can manage to finger the Recipe, which, as westand at present, seems a by no means certain thing."
"Pah, _amigo_, you are half-hearted. I"--he struck his narrowchest fiercely--"shall never think of defeat. From the outset I shallgo into the business with intention to succeed. Of my methods you maynot learn much, for to those beyond the pale we lock out secrets. Butcould you know how far our brotherhood extends, and how deep is theresponsibility with which each member is saddled, you would have morefaith in the mighty weapon whose hilt I, Taltavull, grasp between myfingers."
"Don't you go and involve Haigh and myself in a political row."
"No word of what is happening will pass outside the bounds of our ownclique."
"I just mentioned the matter, y'know, because you anarchists have gotthe reputation of not sticking at much."
"My dear Don Miguel, a statesman in your own islands once evolved thepolicy of Thorough. We have adopted the selfsame principle. Nobody andnothing must stand in the way of our ends. We stand up for humanity inthe mass. _Bourgeois_ society is bound to go under. And to hastenits downfall any one of our members is proud to offer himself as asufferer, or as even a martyr to death, for the Cause. We aim atproducing a state of society in which men may live together in harmonywithout laws. You must see that we are merely extreme philanthropists,and that our motives are pure in the extreme. And, _amigo_, youmust disabuse your mind from the vulgar illusion that we are nothingbut a band of brutal assassins who murder only through sheer lust forblood."
I started some sort of apology, but he cut me short.
"My dear fellow, you haven't put my back up in the very least. A man isbound to misunderstand us unless he is on our side; because if he doesunderstand and appreciate, and has any claim to the title of man, hecould not help being an anarchist. But now let us drop the question andget to the work of the more immediate present. I am going to thetelegraph office first. Let me accompany you back as far as yourhotel."
"When shall I see you again?" I asked, as we parted at Bustamente'sdoorway.
"When I find where the Recipe is."
"And that will occupy how long? A week?"
Taltavull laughed. "You will see me to-morrow afternoon at the latest,"said he.
Confidence is said to be infectious, but I can't say that my hopes werevery highly excited by Taltavull's sanguineness of success. As toHaigh, he had scoffed at the idea of tracing up the Recipe from thefirst, and all I could tell him about the new power on the scent wouldnot change his cheerful pessimism. "The whole loaf we are not going toget, dear boy," was his stated opinion; "and we may as well becontented with the crumbs we've grabbed, and enjoy 'em accordingly.There's the dinner bell. Let's go and make merry with the drummers."
However, true to his word, and not a little to our surprise, Taltavullturned up about four the next afternoon and told us that he had beensuccessful. There was a little subcutaneous pride to be noted as hemade the announcement, for, after all, he was a human man as well as ananarchist, and had done a thing which we deemed very nigh impossible.But he kept this natural exultation under very modestly, saying thatall credit that might be due was owing not to him, but to the greatorganization. We were merely offered a proof, he said, of what theanarchist body could encompass when once their machinery was put inmotion. And then, having given us the broad fact, he proceeded to showout details. Or rather, to be strictly accurate, he gave us a string ofresults, without any hint as to how they had been arrived at, a certainamount of mystery being the salt without which no secret society couldpossibly exist.
Put briefly and in its order of happening, the story ran as follows:--
The raider, as we had already faintly surmised, was none other than theman with the spectacles in the Genovese _caffe_. His name wasPether--N. Congleton Pether; he was of Jewish extraction, and he wasstone-blind. He had been much in Africa, and it was in the southernpart of that continent that an accident deprived him of his sight. Theinjured eyeballs had been surgically removed, and artificial onesmounted in their stead. The man was clever in the extreme in hiding hisinfirmity; for a week none of the hotel people where he was staying inGenoa even guessed at it. Casual acquaintances scarcely ever detectedthe missing sense.
English being his native tongue, Pether had naturally lost no word ofthe discussion over Weems's manuscript, and directly the littleschoolmaster and myself had left the _caffe_ he had beckoned hisservant Sadi, who was within call, and had gone off on his arm towardsthe harbour. There he threw money about right and left, and theinformation he wanted was given glibly. A freight steamer consigned tosome senna merchants would be sailing for Tripoli at noon on themorrow. To the skipper of this craft he betook himself, and bargainedto be set down unostentatiously in Minorca. It would mean a very slightdeviation from the fixed course, and what he paid would be money intothat skipper's own pocket. You see Pether knew how to set aboutmatters. Had he gone to the shipowners, he would as likely as not havefailed, or at any rate been charged an exorbitant fee; but by applyingto a badly paid Italian seaman who was not above cooking a log, he gotwhat he wanted for a thousand-franc note.
The senna steamer made for neither Ciudadella nor Port Mahon. Herdoings were a trifle dark, and she did not want to be reported. But herskipper was a man of local knowledge, and remembered that there werethree small harbours on the northern coast of Minorca, used exclusivelyby fishermen and _contrabandistas_. Further, being a man of guile,he understood the ways of the outpost Carabinero. He knew that if anopen boat were seen to come into one of these village harbours fromsomewhere out of vague seaward darkness, the local preserver of theking's peace and the king's customs would not be rude enough to look inthat direction. That uniformed worthy would understand that somegentleman in the neighbourhood wished to land a cargo, probably ofsmokable tobacco, free of duty. He would know that if he interfered, hewould probably test the chill sensation of dull steel jabbed betweenthe shoulder blades before many days were over. He would expect that inthe ordinary course of events judicious short-sightedness would berewarded by notes for many pesetas, and American tobacco in generousquantity. And he would reroll and smoke his Government cigarette,placidly non-interferent, thanking his best saint for the happy time tocome.
And in fine it was managed in this very fashion. The senna steamerhove-to in the twilight some three miles off-shore, and a boat put intothe tiny sheltered bay of Cavalleria just two hours after nightfall.The boat scarcely touched the beach. She disgorged herself of twopassengers and a small lot of luggage, and departed whence she had comein scared haste.
A Carabinero, with his back ostentatiously turned to the newcomers,leaned on his rifle, whistling mournfully. Sadi wrapped a greasy noteround a pebble, and chucked it to the man's feet, whence it wastransferred to the pocket of his ragged red trousers without comment,and then the pair took their way up past the carvel-built fishing-boatsinto the straggling village street.
Cavalleria has no regular _fonda_, or even _casa_, but there is a shopwhere they sell wine, and black tumour-covered sausages, and whitebread, and _algobra_ beans, and Scotch sewing cotton. The whole villageknew of their arrival, and were gathered in this shop to meet them whenthey came in.
Few questions were asked. The Spaniard of the lowerorders has a most Hibernian weakness for anything smacking ofconspiracy, or any enterprise which is "agin' the Government." Pethersaluted the audience with one mysterious grin, which they appeared toconsider as fully explanatory, and then inviting them all to drink withhim, put down a peseta,[2] and received much change in greasy bronze."_Dos reales_" was the price of that piece of lavish entertainment, theold twopence-halfpenny still holding sway in out-districts against themore modern decimal notation.
[2] A _peseta_ is worth rather less than a franc at the usual rate of exchange.
And then a guide was wanted.
Every able-bodied man amongst the villagers offered his services fornothing. His time and all that he possessed was entirely at thedisposition of the senores. The choice was embarrassing. But at lastone rope-sandalled hero was selected, and the trio set off into thenight between the great rubble walls. The most of their luggage hadbeen left to go to Mahon by mule pannier on the morrow. They only tookone small box with them, slung by a strap over Sadi's shoulders. Butthe guide carried pick and shovel.
They struck the main road and held on along it till they reached thecemetery, and there struck off through Alayor, and on down the narrowlanes to Talaiti de Talt. Sadi and the Spaniard dug, and being used tothe exercise, and working in the cool of the night, deepened their pitrapidly. Only the stars watched them at their labours. Pether was notable to look on; he could only listen.
As day was beginning to gray the sky the entrance tunnel was unroofed,and down the two foreigners dropped into it, Sadi leading. The man ofthe soil feared ghosts and crouched at the lip of the hole. Also, beingignorant of all other tongues save Minorquin, he understood no word ofwhat was being said beneath him.
But of a sudden a noiseless light of blinding whiteness flared out fromthe inside of the Talayot; and after an interval of black-velvet gloomit flashed out again. His fears still were strong, but curiositytrampled them under foot, and the man in the rope sandals droppednoiselessly on to the floor of the tunnel. Again the intense whiteglare shone out, and the watcher saw words of writing on the fartherwall of the Talayot, and him of the spectacles holding his wooden boxso as to face them. Afterwards, by the light of a candle, he who hadmade the flashes scraped this lettering from the plaster with hisknife, and his companion, laughing, scribbled something else on theblank place. And then, as the cold earthy atmosphere was beginning tomake him sweat, the son of the soil climbed out again.
"Great Caesar!" exclaimed Haigh, when the narrative had reached thispoint. "I'm beginning to have an inkling of how it was all worked out.If that chap photographed the inscription by magnesium flashlight, Iverily believe I know where the plates----But don't let me interruptyet. Finish the tale first."
And so Taltavull went on.
The uncanny sights which he had witnessed impressed the Cavalleriafisherman mightily, and when he received a valuable banknote, he helpedfill up the hole and departed, fully determined to hold his tongue. Theman with the spectacles said that evil would assuredly befall if hespoke of the things he had seen, and that fisherman believed himimplicitly.
The two raiders walked rapidly down the narrow lanes till they cameupon the broad road at that point where it is interrupted by a hedge ofwheelbarrows and gang planks. Coming down the other branch roadopposite to them was the zinc-roofed diligence, which had leftCiudadella in chill darkness at a quarter to five. At their sign thedriver brought the ramshackle conveyance to a stand, and they squeezedinto the stuffy interior. Then with an _arre-e-ee_, and animpartial basting with the short whip, the four wretched horses gotinto their shamble again, and forty minutes later were climbing in andout of the clean dry holes in Calle Isabella 2^a at Mahon. They onlyhad one hitch in their enterprise. During one of these bumps in theuneven street the door flew open, and the camera fell out on the cobblestones with a thud and a sound of splintering glass.
"And I thought that man a Juggins," said Haigh, "and imagined I wasblarneying and greening him _ad libitum_, whilst all the time hewas bamboozling me--me--me, gentlemen. But, Senor Taltavull, are youperfectly certain the fellow is blind? I think you must be mistakenthere."
"He is stone-blind; but, as I told you, he is marvellously clever atconcealing it. You are by no means alone in being deceived."
"But, _amigo_, he looked at me when we were talking, and pointedout things about the room, and, in fact, used his eyes the whole time.Brown eyes they were, and good to look upon."
"I tell you he is very, very clever, and as his great conceit is tohide his infirmity, he uses all his wit to do it. Sadi, his servant,had helped him to explore the room beforehand, so that he knew exactlywhere everything lay. And the sound of your voice would tell him whereto direct his gaze during a conversation. But call to mind anythingwhere immediate vision was necessary. Did you never ask him to read aletter or anything of that kind, and not notice (now that you arereminded of it) that he somehow or other evaded doing so?"
"No, no---- By Jove, yes, I did though. I asked him to play cards, andhe wouldn't from conscientious motives or some rot of that kind."
"There you are, then."
"Right. Of course he couldn't see the pips. And this was the man Ithought I was having on for a Juggins. And this is the man who has gotthe Recipe for Diamonds locked up in a photographic double dark-back.That is, unless he's taken it out and got it developed."
"So far as I can make out," said the anarchist, "the negative is stillundeveloped. Pether took it to Palma, and he has it there now, notdaring to trust it in a photographer's hands, and not being able todevelop it himself. Senores, I believe it will be for us to unlock thattremendous mine of potential energy. Mallorca, I regret to say, is toostrictly Catholic to be a profitable sowing ground for our propaganda,but we have scattered adherents here, and these are working their bestfor us. But our presence in that island is imperatively demanded.Unfortunately, the next steamer does not sail for two days."
"Then we'll take the cutter," said Haigh. "Wind's in the sou'-sou'-eastand lightish, but if it holds as it is we should make Alcudia Bay byearly to-morrow morning, and from there could hit off the railway at LaPuebla and get to Palma."
And to this Taltavull and I agreed.