“I hear two men speaking like cowards,” said she. “I should despise
myself either to think or speak like that. And neither of you believe
one word that you are saying, which makes it the more wicked and
silly.”
“She’s a trump!” cried Northmour. “But she’s not yet Mrs. Cassilis. I
say no more. The present is not for me.” Then my wife surprised me.
“I leave you here,” she said suddenly. “My father has been too long
alone. But remember this: you are to be friends, for you are both good
friends to me.”
She has since told me her reason for this step. As long as she
remained, she declares that we two would have continued to quarrel; and
I suppose that she was right, for when she was gone we fell at once
into a sort of confidentiality.
Northmour stared after her as she went away over the sand-hill
“She is the only woman in the world!” he exclaimed with an oath. “Look
at her action.”
I, for my part, leaped at this opportunity for a little further light.
“See here, Northmour,” said I; “we are all in a tight place, are we
not?”
“I believe you, my boy,” he answered, looking me in the eyes, and with
great emphasis. “We have all hell upon us, that’s the truth. You may
believe me or not, but I’m afraid of my life.”
“Tell me one thing,” said I. “What are they after, these Italians? What
do they want with Mr. Huddlestone?”
“Don’t you know?” he cried. “The black old scamp had_ carbonaro_ funds
on a deposit—two hundred and eighty thousand; and of course he gambled
it away on stocks. There was to have been a revolution in the
Tridentino, or Parma; but the revolution is off, and the whole wasp’s
nest is after Huddlestone. We shall all be lucky if we can save our
skins.”
“The _carbonari_!” I exclaimed; “God help him indeed!”
“Amen!” said Northmour. “And now, look here: I have said that we are in
a fix; and, frankly, I shall be glad of your help. If I can’t save
Huddlestone, I want at least to save the girl. Come and stay in the
pavilion; and, there’s my hand on it, I shall act as your friend until
the old man is either clear or dead. But,” he added, “once that is
settled, you become my rival once again, and I warn you—mind yourself.”
“Done!” said I; and we shook hands.
“And now let us go directly to the fort,” said Northmour; and he began
to lead the way through the rain.
CHAPTER VI
TELLS OF MY INTRODUCTION TO THE TALL MAN
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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