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It was sent in a roundabout way through other people's hands and took some time to reach me. Herr Kenwardine left Kingston last night." "But there is no boat yet." Richter nodded. "He is not coming to Santa Brigida. I do not think that he will come back at all." For a moment or two Clare felt unnerved, but she pulled herself together.
"I should be glad to stay with Miss Kenwardine," he answered with a bow, and when Don Sebastian went off opened a deck-chair and turned to the girl. "You see how I was situated!" he said awkwardly. Clare smiled as she sat down. "Yes; you are not to blame. Indeed, I do not see why you should apologize." "Well," said Dick, "I hoped that I might meet you, though I feared you would sooner I did not.
The sun had sunk behind the range when Clare Kenwardine stood, musing, on a balcony of the house. Voices and footsteps reached her across the roofs, for Santa Brigida was wakening from its afternoon sleep and the traffic had begun again in the cooling streets. The girl listened vacantly, as she grappled with questions that had grown more troublesome of late.
The Spaniard did not answer, and while he pondered, the beat of a launch's engine came in through the open ports. Kenwardine lighted a cigarette, spending some time over it, and as he finished the launch ran alongside. There were footsteps on deck, and a few moments later a steward entered the saloon. "We are going in," he announced. "Will you have your luggage put on deck?"
Then a man came up the outside staircase and took off his hat as he turned to Kenwardine. He had a swarthy skin, but Clare carelessly remarked that the hollows about his eyes were darker than the rest of his face, as if they had been overlooked in a hurried wash, and his bare feet were covered with fine, black dust. "Don Martin waits you, señor," he said.
"No," said Jake, who lighted a cigarette, "I don't think it does. In fact, as I know your capabilities and begin to see what you're getting after, there's not much use in my trying to put you off the track." Ida sat down in a canvas chair and pondered for a minute or two. "You know Miss Kenwardine; if I recollect, you were rather enthusiastic about her. What is she like?" Jake's eyes twinkled.
I had trouble to get permission to make one or two quick sketches, and worked up the rest from memory." "Yet she let you sketch her. It was something of a privilege." Jake smiled in a curious way. "I think I see what you mean. Miss Kenwardine likes me, but although I've some artistic taste, I'm frankly flesh and blood; and that's not quite her style.
A little later Kenwardine joined them, and Dick knew that he must go. Clare gave him her hand with a quick, grateful look that made his heart beat, and Lance met him as he went into the house. "You're cutting it very fine," he said. "Come along; here's your cap." "In a moment! There's an infantry man I asked over to our camp."
He was not rich and ran certain risks that made his ability to provide for her doubtful, while she had no marked talents to fall back upon if things went against him. There was, however, the possibility that her beauty might enable her to make a good marriage, and although Kenwardine could not do much at present to forward this plan he must try to prevent any undesirable entanglement.
Two or three days later he met Kenwardine in a café where he was waiting for a man who supplied some stores to the camp. When Kenwardine saw Dick he crossed the floor and sat down at his table. His Spanish dress became him, he looked polished and well-bred, and it was hard to think him a confederate of half-breed ruffians who would not hesitate about murder.
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