Major Vigoureux

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But the Lord Proprietor, as a master of men, brushed this hesitancy
aside, and with jovial tact. "A first-rate fellow," he insisted. "One
of our best! Only pig-headed, as the best always are. And so, when I
offer him a choice of two farms, each better than his present one, he
must needs take it into his head that I'm doing him an injury. Such a
man"--here Sir Caesar wagged a forefinger at the accused--"needs to be
protected against himself. Such a man needs to be told--and pretty
straight--that he is injuring others besides himself, and that, as I
have authority in these Islands, so I owe it to my conscience to forbid
his letting his children grow into little savages."

Eli Tregarthen looked up as though a stone had struck him. The colour
on his face darkened. Hitherto (though suffering from it) he had not
argued, even in his own mind, against Sir Caesar's evicting him from
Saaron. He had resented it, as one resents mere brute force; but he had
not argued with that which had never presented itself as resting upon
argument.... Though he knew himself to be a slow-witted man, Eli had a
clear sense of his wife's wisdom, and that wisdom irradiated for him
any argument which came--as this accusation of neglecting the children
surely came--within range of Ruth.

"If you dare to say that again," said Eli, "I'll knock your head off."

All three of them heard it--the Lord Proprietor, Mr. Pope, and old
Abe--though neither could believe his ears. For Eli had spoken quite
quietly and distinctly. Mr. Pope was the first to recover; but before
he could get in a word, Eli was following up the attack--still not
hastily, still with a slow pause on every word.

"You? What do you know of children, that never had a child? And what do
you know of Saaron or any other island, that never took your life here
nor made your living? You fill your pockets in a London shop; you go
off to an auction, and there you bid for these Islands, that you've
never seen. But what did you buy, you little man, over and above the
power to make yourself a nuisance in your day? Was it understanding of
the Islands? Or a birthright in 'em? Or a child to leave it to?...
There, I do wrong to be angered with 'ee--you've got so little by your
bargain! But you put a strain upon a man, you do--talkin' of children
in that way. Children?" The man paused with something like a groan. An
instant before it had been in his mind to tell Sir Caesar passionately
that, so far from grudging the time spent in fetching Annet, Linnet and
Matthew Henry from school, he looked forward to it as the one bright
break in a day that began before sunrise and lasted till after sunset.
It had been on the tip of his tongue, too, to say, with equal passion,
that any man who spoke of them as savages insulted his wife's care of
them. But eloquence had come to him, now for the first time in his
life, as an inspiration. At the first check he stammered, and broke
down; and so, with a hunch of his shoulders, turned his back on his
audience and walked off heavily down the lane.

Mr. Pope, with great tact, laid a hand lightly on the Lord Proprietor's
arm and conducted him back to the gate by which they had entered.
There, yet gasping for speech, the great man lifted his eyes, and was
aware of Mrs. Pope and Miss Gabriel distractedly advancing along the
path.

With a gulp he pulled himself together, and walked forward to inform
them that the chase had been unsuccessful; that not a glimpse of the
fugitive had been discovered. Resuming a hold upon his gallantry, he
hoped that his visitors would remain for luncheon. "After which," he
added, with a creditable smile, "we may, if we will, resume the search
in more philosophical mood."

But here again Mr. Pope was tactful. He divined that his patron was
suffering; that the wound needed, for the moment, solitude and silence
to ease its smart. He was sorry to deprive the ladies of such a
pleasure; but, for his part, business called him back to Garland Town.
He had, he regretted to say, an engagement at two o'clock sharp. To be
sure, if the ladies chose to stay, he could send back the boat for
them.... But this he said knowing that his wife was thoroughly
frightened, and that (as she herself put it later) wild horses would
not induce her to remain, lacking his protection.

The Lord Proprietor escorted his visitors down to the landing quay and
there helped the ladies to embark. The search for the fair fugitive (he
promised them) should be vigorously prosecuted. She was not likely to
elude it for long, and he would at once report success. The
leave-takings over, he stood by the shore until the small boat had made
her offing, and so, with a farewell lift of the hat, turned and walked
moodily towards the house.

He was relieved to be alone after the morning's very painful
experiences. Twice since breakfast he had been wounded in his dignity,
and nowhere does a man of his nature suffer more acutely. Nor could the
wounds be covered over and hidden, for he had taken them openly, almost
publicly. His anger swung helplessly forward and back between the two
outrages, both to him inexplicable. To be sure he had not reckoned on
any gratitude for the gift of the breeches. But what had he done that
they should be flaunted on a scarecrow?... Oh, it was monstrous!

As little could he understand Tregarthen or Tregarthen's language. Some
gadfly must have stung the man. A few acres of the barrenest land in
the whole archipelago--and the fellow talked as though he were being
dispossessed of an Eden! Yes, and as though that were not enough, he
had used the flattest disrespect. The Lord Proprietor was not
accustomed to disrespect. From the first his Islanders had treated him
with the deference due to a king. Save and except the Commandant, no
man had ever crossed his will or disputed his authority.

His rage swung back again upon the Commandant. It was all very well to
plead that the Commandant had been in church at the time; but, after
all, an officer must be held responsible for his men's doings. Let
Major Vigoureux beware! More than once the Lord Proprietor had been
minded to memorialise the War Office and inquire why the taxpayers'
money should be wasted to maintain three superannuated soldiers at full
pay in a deserted barracks.

"Upon my word," said the Lord Proprietor to himself, "I've a mind to
run over to Garrison Hill and ask Vigoureux what the devil he means by
it. Either he knows of this, or he doesn't: I'll soon learn which. In
either case I'll have an apology; and, what's more, I'll teach him
who's master here, once for all."

He had reached the terrace, and paused there for a moment to draw
breath after his climb, at the same time throwing a glance across the
blue waters of the roadstead towards Garrison Hill and the white
buildings upon it slumbrous in the autumn haze. The glance threatened
mischief to that unconscious fortress and a sharp nod of the head
confirmed the threat.

"Yes, yes, this very afternoon! The sooner the better!"

He swung about and stepped across the terrace to a French window that
stood open to the air and sunshine. It was the window of the morning
room, where he usually took his luncheon, and he passed in briskly,
meaning to ring the bell and give orders to have the meal served at
once. But, as he stepped across the low sill somebody rose in the
room's cool shadow and confronted him, and he fell back catching at the
jamb for support and staring.

It was the stranger herself: the woman for whom they had all been
vainly searching!

"Good morning!" said Vashti, with a self-possessed little bow. "Oh, but
I fear I have startled you?"

"Ah--er--" the Lord Proprietor pulled himself together with an
effort--"Well, to tell the truth? you did take me by surprise; the more
so that----"

"It was dreadfully uncivil of me--not to say impudent--to walk in here
unannounced. But the fact is I could find no door along the terrace;
nothing but windows. Forgive me."

"Certainly, madam, certainly.... The front door is, so to speak, at the
rear of the building.... But I was going to say that you took me the
more by surprise because, as a matter of fact, I had just given up
hunting for you."

Vashti laughed. She looked adorably cool and provoking; and still, as
he stared at her, the Lord Proprietor wondered more and more whence in
the world she came. He knew little of female beauty (the late Lady
Hutchins had been plain-featured) and less of clothes; but three or
four times in his life, at public functions, he had mixed with the
great ones of the land, and here patently was one of them. Her speech,
dress, bearing, all proclaimed it; her easy self-possession, too, and
air of authority. Out of what Olympus had she descended upon these
remote Atlantic isles?

"I saw that you had company," she answered, "and I ran away. To tell
you the truth I was a little afraid of them--that is to say, of some of
them. But what was Archelaus doing here?"

The Lord Proprietor frowned.

"Did he come to apologise? Oh, but that is just one of the reasons that
brought me here! You must not be angry with Archelaus; no, really, it
was not his fault, at all, but mine."

"I think, ma'am," said the Lord Proprietor, "we are talking at
cross-purposes."

"No, no, we are not," she corrected him briskly with a little laugh.
"We are talking about that unhappy scarecrow." She paused, as though
checked by irrepressible mirth, and he flushed hotly. "And no, again!"
she went on, perceiving this; "I was laughing at Archelaus--poor
fellow!--overtaken here by his accusers. Did they make it very painful
for him?"

"Even supposing him capable of shame--which I doubt--I certainly do not
think he suffered more than he deserved."

"You are very much annoyed?" asked Vashti, suddenly serious. "Well,
then, I am sorry. It was all my suggestion--though it never entered my
head that anyone would be walking that way and catch sight of--of the
thing. I meant it to be a little surprise for the Commandant when he
came home from church; though when he returned and heard what had
happened, he scolded me terribly."

"You will excuse me"--the Lord Proprietor drew himself up stiffly--"if
I fail to see either where the humour comes in, or why you--a stranger,
unknown to me even by name----"

"Ah, to be sure! My name is Cara."

"Then, as I was saying, Miss Cara, I fail to see----"

"And you are quite right of course," Vashti made haste to agree. "I
ought not to have done it. But weren't you, too, a little bit to blame?
It wasn't very nice of you, you know."

"I beg your pardon? What wasn't very nice of me?"

"Why, to hurt their feelings; and especially the Commandant's. He is a
poor man; poor, and sensitive, and easily hurt."

"You are talking to me in riddles, Miss Cara. I have done nothing at
all to hurt the Commandant's feelings."

"Not intentionally, of course. I told him--and I told the sergeant
too--that I was sure you never meant to wound them. It would have been
too cruel."

"But," protested the Lord Proprietor, "I have done nothing, I tell you;
nothing beyond presenting Sergeant Archelaus with--with an article of
attire of which he stood badly in need. Miss Gabriel, some weeks ago,
drew my attention to the state of the poor fellow's--er--wardrobe, and
suggested that something might be done."

"I thought so," Vashti nodded. "I dare say now," she went on, after
seeming to muse for a moment, "you are one of those strong-minded men
who find it hard to understand how sensible people can worry over what
they put on their backs!"

"That happens to be a constant source of wonder with me," he confessed;
"though for the life of me I can't tell how you came to guess it."

"Never mind how I guessed it," said Vashti, smiling. "The point is,
that you take this lofty and very scornful view of clothes, and yet you
must have noticed that many men of your acquaintance--men otherwise
sensible--take quite another; that in the city, for instance, a hard
felt hat is not usually worn with a frock coat."

"Granted," said the Lord Proprietor; "though I could never understand
why."

"And you have noticed that soldiers are even more particular; and the
reason with them is perhaps a little more easily grasped. Their uniform
is a symbol, so to speak. It stands for the service to which a good
soldier should be devoted."

"If you had seen that man's small-clothes!"

"Yes, I grant that Archelaus neglects his regimentals. But to neglect
them, and to be willing to mix them up with civilian clothes, are two
very different things. Perhaps you did not think of this?"

"Really, now," answered Sir Caesar, "I should not have supposed that it
mattered what these men wore, in such an out-of-the-world spot."

Vashti's eyes rested on him for a second or two, in a kind of wondering
despair at his obtuseness. But she controlled herself to reply quite
patiently:

"At any rate, it was wrong of me to encourage the men's resentment, and
I came here this morning to beg your pardon."

He acknowledged this with a bow, but stood silent for a moment, eyeing
her.

"You are a relative of Major Vigoureux?" he asked, after a pause.

"No."

"You are staying with him, I understand?"

"No." Vashti shook her head, with a smile. "But I very much want you to
forgive me," she went on; "for I have another favour to ask you."

Again he bowed slightly. "You give my curiosity no rest, Miss Cara, and
I perceive you mean to satisfy it only in your own way. As for
the--er--incident we have been discussing, pray consider that--so far
as you are concerned--I dismiss it." He did so with a slight wave of
the hand. "You wish to ask me a favour?"

"I do. I came to plead with you; to say a word on behalf of Eli
Tregarthen, your tenant on Saaron Island."

The Lord Proprietor started. "Are you at the bottom of that also?" he
asked, angrily.

Vashti's eyes opened wide in astonishment.

"I beg your pardon?" she murmured. "I do not understand."

"It seems to me," he caught her up, "that for a total stranger, you are
losing remarkably little time."

"In what, sir?" she demanded, facing him fairly, with a lift of her
handsome chin.

"In subverting my authority, ma'am; or, rather, in prompting others to
subvert it.... Though, to be sure," he went on, in sarcastic wrath, "it
may again be an accident that I happened on Eli Tregarthen less than an
hour ago, and that he used very insolent language to me in the presence
of my agent."

"It was not only an accident," said Vashti, slowly, and with patent
sincerity; "it was one that, since I came here to urge his suit, I
would have given a great deal to prevent." She paused, and for a moment
seemed to be musing. "Must I understand, then, that you refuse to hear
a word in his favour?"

"The man is a fool!" Sir Caesar clasped his hands behind him under his
coat-tails, and paced the room. "His insolence to me apart, he is a
complete fool! I offer him the choice of two farms--either one of them
acre for acre, worth twice the rental of Saaron.... I simply cannot
understand!"

"No," said Vashti, with a little sigh, "you cannot understand."

He had reached the fireplace, and wheeled round on her, his back to the
hearth and his legs a-straddle.

"What can I not understand?" he demanded.

"Many things." Vashti met his eyes for a moment, then turned her own to
the window and the blue waterways beyond the terrace, beyond the massed
tree-tops of the pleasure grounds. "Many things, and the Islands in
particular. You did not understand just now that a soldier, though
condemned to stand sentry in a forgotten outpost, can still be
sensitive for the honour of his service, because the root of his life
lies there. You cannot understand that the root of Eli Tregarthen's
life goes down into the soil he has tilled from childhood as his
parents tilled it. To you Garrison Hill is a tumble-down fort, and
Saaron Island a barren rock; yet you call them yours, because you have
purchased them. And, nevertheless--to do you justice--you are not one
who rates everything by its price in money. If you were, I could beg
you to take a higher rent for Saaron and leave Eli Tregarthen
undisturbed."

He shook his head. "The man pays me a fair rent; as much as I can
conscientiously ask. I have a conscience, Miss Cara, and a sense of
responsibility. It is not good that Tregarthen lets his children run
wild there, so far from school."

"And if, sir," she went on, "you are doing this for the children's
sake, I could promise you that there are means to educate them better
than any children on the Islands. But the difficulty does not lie with
the children. It lies in your sense of possession, which makes Saaron
Farm there"--she waved a hand--"an eyesore in the view from this
window, and simply because Eli Tregarthen has crossed your will. You
defend an instinct of selfishness that takes about five minutes to pass
into a principle with any man who buys land. You maintain the
landlord's right to ordain the lives on your estate, and command them
to be as you think best; nor does it seem to you to affect your claim
for power that we understood and drew our nature from the Islands for
years before ever you came to hear of them."

"Radicalism, ma'am!"

"Yes, sir. It is for the roots I plead, against your claim that the
surface gives all."

He thrust his hands under his coat-tails again, and took a turn up and
down the room.

"I do not affect to agree with you, Miss Cara," said he, not looking
towards her when she stood by the French window, but stretching out his
hand to the bell. "Yet, as owner of these Islands, I desire to be just.
I desire also to understand these Islanders, of whom, it appears, you
know so much more than I. And if you do me the honour to take luncheon
with me--" Here he broke off, to ring at the bell-pull. "But I warn you
I am tenacious as well as curious, and shall demand to know a little
more of my lecturer."

He turned and stood blinking. Vashti had disappeared. The room was
empty.

He took a step to the open window, sprang out upon the terrace, and
glanced to right and left.

The terrace, too, was empty. He hurried to the stairway leading down
through the shrubberies. Not so much as the glimpse of a flying skirt
rewarded him.

CHAPTER XIX

THE COMMANDANT'S CONSCIENCE

"The Lord Proprietor to see you, sir!"

Archelaus, presenting himself at the door of the Commandant's office,
with a slightly flushed but inscrutable face, drew aside and flattened
himself against the door-jamb to let Sir Caesar enter.

The Commandant closed the book in which he had been adding up accounts
which never came right, and stood up in something of a flurry. He was
dressed with more than ordinary care. The lapels and collar of his
uniform-coat had been treated to a vigorous brushing. In fact, he was
arrayed for action: to step down the hill in an hour's time, to call
upon Mr. Fossell at the Bank and draw his pay, if any should be
forthcoming.

"Good morning, Major!"

"Good morning, Sir Caesar." The Commandant nodded towards a chair.

"I thank you." Sir Caesar set down his hat upon the edge of the
writing-table, drew off his gloves, tossed them into his hat, and
seated himself. "I--er--called in the first place to speak about an
unfortunate--er--incident that happened on Garrison Hill here last
Sunday."

"Ah," said the Commandant, "so you have heard about it? I am sorry."

"Sorry for what, sir?"

"Sorry that anyone should have thought it worth while to carry tales to
you; but also sorry for the incident itself."

"It appears to me, Major Vigoureux, that the incident demands some
apology."

"I have made it."

Sir Caesar crossed his legs and coughed to clear his throat. "I think,
my dear sir," said he, in a tone at once slightly pompous and slightly
nervous, "I really think it's time that you and I came to an
understanding; that we--er--recognised, so to speak, the situation, and
played with the cards on the table. Do you agree with me?"

"I might," answered the Commandant, guardedly; "that is to say, if I
understood."

"I acquit you, of course, of any active share in the incident, and I am
assured that Archelaus and Treacher were no worse than accomplices. It
appears that the real culprit was a totally different person, and," he
went on, after a glance at the Commandant's face, which betrayed
nothing, "it may save time if I tell you that she has confessed to me."

"Excuse me, I was not proposing to make any remark."

"But who in the world is the young person?"

The Commandant's eyebrows arched themselves slightly. "She is a lady,"
he answered, in a dry voice. "If she omitted to tell you her name, the
omission was no doubt intentional, and she has carried her confession
just so far as she intended it to go."

"She called herself Cara; but the name tells me nothing. Who is she? I
agree with you as to her address and appearance: she is in every
respect--er--presentable. A relative, may I inquire?"

"No."

"A friend, then? You will pardon me? A delicate question to put, of
course."

Again the Commandant's eyebrows went up slightly. "She was my guest for
a day or two," he answered.

"_Was?_ Then where in the world is she staying now?"

"If she did not tell you--" began the Commandant, but Sir Caesar
interrupted him impatiently.

"Tell me? Devil a bit of it, and that's partly why I'm here. Vanished
like a witch, begad, while I was turning to ring the bell! And where
she went or where she came from are mysteries alike to me."

"Why, then," the Commandant pursued, in a steady musing voice, "it
seems to follow that, even if I knew, I have not her permission to
tell."

The Lord Proprietor uncrossed and recrossed his legs irritably. "Come,
come, Vigoureux, this will hardly do. Will it, now? I put it to you as
a man of the world. No doubt it's all innocent enough, but folks will
talk. And, after all, I'm responsible for any--er--scandal affecting
the Islands. Hey?"

The Commandant rose with a sudden flush on his face.

"Scandal, Sir Caesar? Oh, to be sure, I cannot understand you."

"Tut-tut!" The Lord Proprietor smiled. "Of course, we know there's
nothing in it. A young lady--youngish, at least--and you old enough to
be her father. But, all the same, tongues will wag."

"And they have been wagging?" The Commandant, after a short turn across
the room and back, stood over him, his hands crossed under his coat
tails. "But yours, sir, is the only one that has dared to wag in my
presence."

"Sir!" The Lord Proprietor jumped to his feet.

"You have put many humiliations upon me, Sir Caesar; and because they
affected me only, I have endured them. But in this you go too far."

The Lord Proprietor, on the verge of an angry retort, checked himself,
with a short laugh.

"I refuse to lose my temper with you," said he. "You are unreasonable.
You misconceive me as imputing scandal when, as a matter of fact, I was
trying to assure you that I rejected the imputation. For me, the
disparity in age alone----"

The Commandant, with a wave of his hand to the door, turned away
wearily.

"I merely thought it right to warn you," pursued Sir Caesar, taking
heart of grace as his opponent appeared to weaken, "that others may be
less charitable. And they look to me. I think--I really think--you
might consider the delicacy of my position; that I am--er--ultimately
responsible for the good name of these Islands."

But here he paused with a start; for the Commandant had wheeled about
suddenly, and stood over him, and the Commandant's eyes were dangerous.

"Sir Caesar"--the Commandant controlled his voice with an effort, for it
shook a little--"in the last few minutes some things have been made
plain to me which were hitherto obscure. I have wondered sometimes,
here in these forsaken barracks, at actions of yours which seemed
deliberately calculated to annoy one who--Heaven knows--started with
every wish to be friendly. Saving my own small personal dignity, of
which from indolence I have been too careless, I have reserved nothing
of my old importance in these Islands which, before you purchased them,
I had governed. Men, even the least assuming, do not forfeit all power,
all consideration, without a wrench; and I am but human. I relinquished
them, and without the help of a single kind word from you, by which the
sacrifice might at least have been mitigated. I wondered. Later, when
you heaped one small humiliation upon another, I concluded that I must
have had the misfortune to incur your personal dislike, and told
myself, after searching for the cause and finding none, that personal
dislikes are usually inexplicable. But now I see that I have been doing
you an injustice; that your affronts were not considered; that you have
all along, likely enough, been entirely unconscious of offence; that,
in short, you are as Heaven made you, and I cannot hold a quarrel with
any man's mere defects, whether congenital or of breeding. I shall not
waste time by inquiring to which of the two classes your obtuseness
should justly be assigned. It is enough that I recognise the mistake
and apologise for it. I see now that you are obtuse--that and nothing
more. But since your obtuseness wounds more than you can possibly
divine; and since in this instance it injures a lady, I shall ask you
to pay my poor quarters the last respect you owe them, and quit them
without further discussion."

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