The night was very tranquil5. From the port at the foot of the hill, on which my old friend, John Bard, had built his bungalow in this earthly paradise, the occasional screech6 of a winch was wafted7 with astonishing clearness over the warm air. Somewhere in the distance there was the faint monotonous8 thrumming of guitars. To these night noises of the little Central American port the sea murmured faintly a ceaseless accompaniment.
I heard voices in the garden. Within the house a door swung to with a thud; there was the patter of slippered9 feet over the matting in the living-room and Akawa, Bard's Japanese servant, was at my elbow. His snow-white drill stood out against the black shadows which the moon cast at the back of the verandah. He did not speak; but his mask-like face waited for me to notice him.
"Well, Akawa?" said I; "what is it?"
Comfortably stretched out in a cane11 chair, a cold drink frosting its long glass in the trough at my side, I turned and stared at the butler. I was undoubtedly12 the Se?or Commandante, for thus, in the course of a lazy, aimless sort of holiday on the shores of the Pacific, had my rank of Major been hispaniolised.
But what lady wanted me? Who could possibly know me here, seeing that only the day before one of John Bard's fruit ships had landed me from San Salvador?
Do?a Luisa! The name had an alluring14, romantic ring, especially on this gorgeous night, the velvety15 sky powdered with glittering stars, the air heavy with perfumes exhaled16 from the scented17 gardens. That broad strain of romance in me (which makes so much trouble for us Celts) responded strongly to the appeal of my environment. Do?a Luisa! The distant strains of music seemed to thrum that soft name into my brain.
I swung my feet to the ground, stood up and stretched myself.
"Where is the lady?" I demanded. "In the sitting-room18?"
"No, sir," replied the Japanese. "In the garden!"
More and more romantic! Had some lovely se?orita, in high comb and mantilla, been inflamed19 by a chance sight of the Inglez as I had walked through the grass-grown streets of the city with John Bard that morning, and pursued me to my host's gardens to declare her love? The thought amused me and I smiled. Yet I don't mind admitting that, on my way through the sitting-room in Akawa's wake, I glanced at a mirror and noted20 with satisfaction that my white drill was spotless, and my hair smooth. I adjusted my tie and with that little touch of swagger which the prospect21 of a romantic rendezvous22 imparts to the gait of the most modest of us men, I passed out of the room to the corridor which led to the door into the gardens.
The passage was brightly lit so that, on emerging into the darkness again, my eyes were dazzled. At first I could only discern a vast black shape. But presently I made out the generous proportions of an enormously stout23, coal-black negress.
She was wearing a torn and filthy24 cotton dress and about her head was bound a spotted26 pink and white handkerchief. With her vast bosom27 and ample span of hip13 she looked almost as broad as she was long. On seeing me she bobbed.
"You'm Se?or Commandante?" she asked in English in her soft negro voice.
"I has a letter for you, suh!"
"From Do?a Luisa?" I asked expectantly.
The negress stopped her groping and grinned up at me with flashing teeth. Her eyeballs glistened31 white as her face lit up with a broad smile. Then she tapped herself with a grimy paw.
"I is Do?a Luisa!" she announced with pride.
I staggered beneath the shock of this revelation. My vision of a sloe-eyed damsel in a mantilla vanished in smoke.
"I has a fine Spanish name," remarked the lady resuming her spasmodic searchings of her person, "but I wus riz in N'Awleans. That's how I talks English so good! Ah!"
"You're certain this is meant for me?" I asked, racking my brains to recall who was likely to send me messages by such an intermediary and at such an hour.
"I sure is!" responded Do?a Luisa with authority.
Stepping back into the lighted corridor I unfolded the note and read:—
"To Major Desmond Okewood, D.S.O.
"Do you remember the beach-comber to whom you did a good turn at San Salvador a few weeks back? I now believe I am in a position to repay it if you will accompany the bearer of this note. I wish to see you most urgently but I am too ill to come to you. Don't dismiss this note as merely an ingenious attempt on my part to raise the wind. Perhaps, by the time you have received it, I shall have already escaped from the disgrace and infamy34 of my present existence. Therefore come at once, I beg you.
"And make haste."
The note was written in pencil in rather a shaky hand. There was no signature. But I remembered the writer perfectly35 and his signature would have availed me nothing; for I never knew his name.
Our meeting happened thus. I was visiting the jail at San Salvador and in the prison-yard I remarked among the shambling gang of prisoners taking exercise a pallid36, hollow-eyed creature whose twitching37 mouth and fluttering hands betrayed the habitual38 drunkard recovering from a bout25. I should have dismissed this scarecrow figure from my mind only that, suddenly evading39 the little brown warder, he plucked me by the coat and cried:—
"If you're a sahib, man, you'll get me out of this hell!"
He spoke40 in English and there was a refined note in his voice which, coupled with the haggard expression of his face, decided41 me to inquire into his case. I discovered that the man, as, indeed, he had avowed42 himself in the letter, was a beach-comber, a drunken wastrel43, a dope fiend. In short, he was one of the unemployable, and every Consulate44 in the Central Americas was closed to him. But he was an Englishman; more, by birth an English gentleman. One of the officials at our Consulate told me that he was, undoubtedly, of good family.
Well, one doesn't like to think of one of one's own kith and kin33 locked up with a lot of coffee-coloured cut-throats among the cockchafers and less amiable45 insects of a Dago calaboose. So I interested myself in Friend Beach-comber and he was set free. His incarceration46 was the result of a tradesman's plaint and a few dollars secured his release. A few more, as it appeared in the upshot, had ensured his lasting47 gratitude48; for I gave him a ten dollar bill to see him on his way, the State stipulating49, as a condition of his liberation, that he should leave the city forthwith.
The outcast's letter was in my hand. I looked at Do?a Luisa and hesitated. Would it not be simpler to give the woman a couple of dollars and send her about her business? Surely this note was nothing more than a subterfuge50 to obtain a further "loan" with which to buy drink or drugs—the dividing line between the two is none too clearly defined in the Central Americas.
But I found myself thinking of the beachcomber's eyes. I recalled a certain wistfulness, a sort of lonely dignity, in their mute appeal. I glanced through the note a second time. I rather liked its independent tone. So in the end I bade the woman wait while I fetched my hat. But as I took down my panama from its peg51 I paused an instant, then, running into my room, picked my old automatic out of my dressing-case and slid it into my jacket pocket. I had long since learnt the lesson of the Secret Service that a man may only once forget to carry arms.
As soon as I stepped out into the gardens the old negress waddled52 off down the path, her bare feet pattering almost noiselessly on the hard earth. She made no further effort at conversation; but, with a swiftness surprising in one of her prodigious53 bulk, paddled rapidly through the scented night down the hill towards the winking54 lights of the port. As we left the pleasant height on which John Bard's bungalow stood, I missed the cooling night breeze off the Pacific. The air grew closer. It was steamy and soon I was drenched55 in perspiration56.
Do?a Luisa skirted the quays57 softly lapped by the sluggish58, phosphorescent water, and plunged into a network of small streets fringed by the little yellow houses. Most of them were in darkness; for it was getting late, but here and there a shaft59 of golden light, shining through a heart-shaped opening cut in the shutters60, fell athwart the cobbled roadway. There was something subtly evil, something louche, about the quarter. From behind the barred and bolted windows of one such shuttered house came strains of music, fast and furious, endlessly repeated accompanied by the rhythmic61 stamp of a Spanish dance and the smart click of castanettes. Over the door a red light glowed dully....
But presently we left the purlieus of the port and after passing a long block of warehouses62, black and forbidding, came upon a kind of township of tumbledown wooden cabins on the outskirts63 of the city. The stifling64 air was now heavy with all manner of evil odours; and heaps of refuse, dumped in the broken roadway, reeked65 in the hot night. The houses were the merest shanties66, most of them in a dilapidated condition.
But the place swarmed67 with life. Black faces grinned at the unglazed casements68; dark figures hurried to and fro; while from many cabins came chattering69 voices raised high in laughter or dispute. In the distance a native drum throbbed70 incessantly71. To me it was like entering an African village. I knew we were in the negro quarter of the city.
Suddenly Do?a Luisa stopped and when I was beside her said in a low voice:—
"We'm mos' there!"—and struck off down a narrow lane.
Somewhere behind one of the shacks72, in a full, mellow73 tenor74, a man, hidden by the night, was singing to the soft tinkling75 accompaniment of a guitar. He sang in Spanish and I caught a snatch of the haunting refrain:—
"Se murio, y sobre su cara
"Un panuelito le heche...."
But the next moment the negress, after fumbling76 with a key, pushed me through a big door and the rest of the song was lost in the slamming of a great beam she fixed77 across it. The door gave access to a little square yard with adobe78 walls, an open shed along one side, a low shanty79 along the other. Do?a Luisa pushed at a small wooden door in the wall of the shanty. Instantly a thin, quavering voice called out in English:—
"Have you brought him?"
The woman murmured some inaudible reply and the voice went on:—
"Have you barred the door? Then send him in! And you, get out and leave us alone!"
With a little resigned shrug80 of the shoulders the negress stepped back into the yard and pushed me into the cabin.
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1
bard
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| n.吟游诗人 | |
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bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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6
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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slippered
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| 穿拖鞋的 | |
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stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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15
velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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16
exhaled
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| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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17
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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18
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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19
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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22
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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24
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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27
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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28
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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29
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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30
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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31
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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33
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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34
infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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35
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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36
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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37
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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38
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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39
evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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40
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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41
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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42
avowed
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| adj.公开声明的，承认的v.公开声明，承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
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43
wastrel
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| n.浪费者；废物 | |
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44
consulate
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| n.领事馆 | |
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45
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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46
incarceration
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| n.监禁，禁闭；钳闭 | |
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47
lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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48
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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49
stipulating
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| v.（尤指在协议或建议中）规定，约定，讲明（条件等）( stipulate的现在分词 )；规定，明确要求 | |
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50
subterfuge
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| n.诡计；藉口 | |
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51
peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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52
waddled
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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54
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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55
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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56
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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57
quays
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| 码头( quay的名词复数 ) | |
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58
sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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59
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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60
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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62
warehouses
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| 仓库，货栈( warehouse的名词复数 ) | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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65
reeked
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的过去式和过去分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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66
shanties
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| n.简陋的小木屋( shanty的名词复数 )；铁皮棚屋；船工号子；船歌 | |
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67
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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68
casements
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| n.窗扉( casement的名词复数 ) | |
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69
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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70
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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71
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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72
shacks
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| n.窝棚，简陋的小屋( shack的名词复数 ) | |
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73
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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74
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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75
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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76
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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77
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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78
adobe
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| n.泥砖，土坯，美国Adobe公司 | |
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79
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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80
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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