The Recipe for Diamonds Part 15

said Haigh. "It's the one drawback to you as a companion. Good-night, and give me a day's warning when you're going to blow anything up!--Good-night, Cospatric--or, rather, good-morning."

CHAPTER XIV.

HEREINGEFALLEN!

It did not seem that I had been very long turned in when Haigh came to my bedroom and woke me.

"Come across to my room," said he, "and see our anarchist s.h.i.+pmate in the process of going crazy."

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked, sitting up.

"I don't quite know whether I mean what I say, but anyway, come and see for yourself."

So I flung off the quilted coverlet, and pattered over the tiled floor on my bare feet, and across the corridor, and saw the anarchist dressed in his long black frockcoat, and apparently in nothing else. He was dancing with fury, reeling out a continuous string of the most venomous Spanish oaths--which, by a peculiar irony of a man of his creed, are drawn almost exclusively from an ecclesiastical basis--and at intervals pounding with one bony fist at a crumpled letter which lay in the palm of the other.

Had I not witnessed the fact with my eyes, I should not have imagined it possible that he could so lose his self-possession. I knew him to be a man of strong emotions, but I had always believed him capable of keeping them under iron control.

"We have been fooled, laughed at, betrayed!" he screamed. "The wretch that holds the Recipe has been playing with us. 'Us' do I say? He might have played with you and been forgiven. You are but tools; you do not even belong to the inner brotherhood. But he has trifled with me; he has dared to make sport of me--Taltavull--whose edicts have caused thrones to totter, whose hand will soon sweep all thrones away. That can never be forgiven. He cannot live and expiate that insult."

From one of his pockets the old man drew a revolver and held it up, resting the barrel on a crooked arm, and aligning the sights at an imaginary enemy.

"You two, my comrades, must help me in this just vengeance."

"Not much," said Haigh, peering at him coolly through half-shut eyes.

"I've put my name down for a little gentle highway robbery; but if ordinary murder is to be added to the scheme, you may transfer me to the retired list. I'm not burdened with many scruples, but making cold meat of a gentleman for the small crime of sticking to his own property happens to be one of them."

"And the woman who has helped him, and who has also put shame on us?"

"My dear fellow, you can't expect me to indulge in fisticuffs with a lady--especially one with such a catholic taste in Majolica l.u.s.treware."

Taltavull stamped and swore afresh. "And this insult--will your cold northern blood permit you to swallow that unresented?"

"My swallowing power has its limits, Mr. Taltavull; so slow down.

There's an old adage about thieves quarrelling, and we three should do best by not falling out with one another. Come, let's try back a bit.

What the devil is this eighteen-cornered insult you're so furious about?"

Taltavull thrust the letter into his hand, and stalked away to the window muttering in his beard.

I looked over Haigh's shoulder, and read with him:--

"FONDA FORGET-WHAT, ALCUDIA, MALLORCA, "_Tuesday morning, 1.37 a.m._

"MOST WORTHY SEnORES,--Once more let me write 'Hereingefallen,' and if two of you fail to appreciate its delicate and subtle import, I am sure that the polyglot Mr. Michael Cospatric will courteously interpret.

"Your arrival here came to me, I own, as a trifling surprise. I had not expected such pressing attention.

"It may please you to learn that I nearly joined your conclave during the course of last evening. Mrs. Cromwell's prolonged absence made me anxious, and I descended the stairs from our joint sitting-room, and I was within an ace of entering the _cafe_ where you were all four seated to inquire after her whereabouts. But, with my hand on the latch of the door, a sound met my ear which caused me to pause. It was the well-known mellow voice of my friend Mr. Haigh, raised in argument. I recognized it in an instant. It is a conceit of mine to study voices, and a peculiar talent never to forget them.

"To enter might have caused unpleasantness. Being a man of peace, I consequently forbore to enter, and waited in my room till Mrs.

Cromwell returned. You had been most generously profuse in your explanations. From one or another of you she gathered all there was to know. Senores, you have been most solicitous after my humble welfare. Senores, I would have you accept my most profuse thanks.

"I regret that the pressure of circ.u.mstances forbids my taking formal leave of you. But at an early hour this morning, when you will still be stretched upon your virtuous pallets, Mrs. Cromwell and I set off for the port of Soller. We shall have our morning coffee at Pollensa, and eat our lunch at the convent of Nuestra Senora del Lluch. And there we shall leave the carriage. But we shall not spare time to pay our devotions at the shrine of that celebrated black virgin. Mules will be waiting to take us through the ilex forests, and down the canon, and over the high mountain track, and down that cleverly-built pa.s.s-road to the lovely valley of Soller.

"Do you know Soller, senores--the prettiest little valley in Europe, full of the scents of the orange and the lemon trees with which it is planted? No? then visit it when you have the chance. I regret that we shall not be there to receive you. But we go on to the little port of Soller, where a feluccre is lying stern-on to the quay waiting for us. By nightfall we shall be in the lift of the swell, standing out between the lights at the tiny harbour's mouth.

"Our destination? Senores, believe me, I blush for joy whilst I write. Mrs. Cromwell is about to honour me by adding her hand to the heart she has already bestowed upon me.

"As regards that undeveloped negative, which Mr. Cospatric (with the skill acquired when he was bottle-washer to a photographer) so kindly put into the portable dark slide, my wife will take lessons in the art in some quiet town on the mainland, and when sufficiently skilled in technique will develop out its secret, and share with me the great reward.

"I do not know that I am indebted to M. Taltavull for any matter, but I should be sorry to leave unrequited the interest he appears to take in my welfare. If he will send his address to 'Poste Restante,' Cannes, Monte Carlo, or Hyeres, I shall be proud to send him a delicate wedge of our wedding cake. I trust, however, he knows my name; for here I shall only sign myself, senores, your infinite superior,

"L'AVEUGLE."

"That's delicious," said Haigh when he had finished reading.

"But the insults, senor," said the anarchist, turning round again.

"Beautiful!"

"Have you read those burning gibes?"

"The humour of the thing's transcendental."

"Senor Haigh, look at that letter calmly."

"I am doing. Isn't the satire something lovely? My mellow voice! Ho, ho, ho! And Cospatric's experiences as a photographer's bottle-washer!

Grand!"

The anarchist began to stamp about in a new access of fury, and so Haigh changed his tone.

"Laugh when you're licked, my dear fellow," said he. "Believe me, it's the best way, and Lord knows I ought to be an authority."

"We're differently const.i.tuted, senor."

"Faith, I grant that same's true."

"This loss means more to me than it does to you."

"You are making it do so, certainly. But there, for G.o.d's sake, don't let's be a.s.ses enough to quarrel. Here, smoke."

We all three lit cigarettes, and there was a silence for some minutes.

Then Haigh broke out again,--

"Phe--ew!" he whistled. "Have they gone posting to Soller after all?"