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The fellow really knew nothing. Or if he did, he was diplomatic enough not to jeopardize his post by babbling of it to me. He said: "Perona is Spawn's friend. Why not? His daughter to marry: that will make him a son-in-law." He laughed. "An old fool, but not such a fool either. Spawn is rich." "His daughter. Has he a daughter?" "The little Jetta. You haven't seen her? Well, that is not strange.
Spawn undoubtedly was in this plot to attack his mine! He said, "At the mine we have arranged everything. Damn this American! But for Perona I would not bother with him." "But you will bother," Perona interjected. De Boer laughed again. "I would be witless could I not figure this! He is a young man, and so handsome he has frightened you with the little Jetta! Is that it, Perona? Jealous, eh?"
Jetta did not weigh the bales as he made them up, but piled the Merikani, Kaniki, Barsati, Jamdani, Joho, Ismahili, in alternate layers, and roped the same into bales. One or two pagazis came to my camp and began to chaffer; they wished to see the bales first, before they would make a final bargain. They tried to raise them up ugh! ugh! it was of no use, and withdrew.
For all the importance of my mission in Nareda my thoughts had been subconsciously more upon Jetta far more than upon smugglers of quicksilver. This palsied popinjay! This, the reality of the specter which had been between Jetta and me during all that magic time in the moonlit garden! This suave old rake!
And as I took a step forward, she retreated further, noiseless, with her bare feet treading the smooth stones the path. I ran and caught her at the doorway of the flowered pergola. She stood trembling as I seized her arms. But the timorous smile remained, and her eyes, upraised to mine, glowed with misty starlight. "Who are you?" This time she answered me. "I am called Jetta."
In the garden now, no doubt, with Jetta." De Boer: "Ah the little Jetta! So she is there, Spawn? Not in years have you spoken of your daughter. A young lady now, I suppose. Is it so?" Spawn cursed. "We leave her out of this. You follow the Señor's plan." "Come to your house? You think the bird will be there for me to seize?" "Yes," Perona put in. "You go there; in an hour. Then to the mine."
The news of my coming had preceded me. A front room was lighted; my host was waiting. Hugo set down my bag, accepted another gold coin; and with a queer sidelong smile, the incentive for which I had not the slightest idea, he vanished. I fronted my host, this Jacob Spawn. Strange fate that should have led me to Spawn! And to little Jetta!
A devil himself, when he was on a trail, but always worried for fear one of his men would come to harm. "Right enough, Chief. I'll be careful." He cut off presently. I did not see Jetta that morning. I told Spawn I was hoping to see President Markes on my petroleum proposition. And at the proper hour I took myself to the government house.
And his next words were like a bomb exploding at my feet. "Perona is offended, Grant. But I promise you, his natural personal prejudice will not affect my investigation. Of course he is prejudiced, since he is to marry Spawn's daughter, the little Jetta." I started involuntarily. This pomaded old dotard! This perfumed, ancient dandy!
Jetta of the Lowlands By Ray Cummings Foreword Have you ever stood on the seashore, with the breakers rolling at your feet, and imagined what the scene would be like if the ocean water were gone? I have had a vision of that many times. Standing on the Atlantic Coast, gazing out toward Spain, I can envisage myself, not down at the sea-level, but upon the brink of a height.
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