Daughter of the Sun, Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  IN WHICH A SPELL IS WORKED AND AN EXPEDITION IS BEGUN

  For a moment she and Jim Kendric stood facing each other with only thelittle table and its cargo of treasure separating them, engulfed in agreat silence. He saw her eyes; they were like pools of lambentphosphorescence in the black shadow of her hair. He glimpsed in theman eloquence which mystified him; it was as though through her eyes herheart or her mind or her soul were reaching out toward his but speakinga tongue foreign to his understanding. Her gaze was steady andpenetrating and held him motionless. Nor, though he did not at thetime notice, did any man in the room stir until she, turning swiftly,at last broke the charm. She went out through the rear door, Ruiz Riosat her heels.

  When the door closed after them Kendric chanced to note Twisty Barlowat his elbow. A queer expression was stamped on the rigid features ofthe sailorman. Plainly Barlow, intrigued into a profound abstraction,was alike unconscious of his whereabouts or of the attention which hewas drawing. His eyes stared and strained after the vanished Mexicanand his companion; he, too, had been fascinated; he was like a man in atrance. Now he started and brushed his hand across his eyes and,moving jerkily, hurried to the door and went out. Kendric followed himand laid a restraining hand upon his shoulder.

  "Easy, old boy," he said quietly. Barlow started at the touch of hishand and stood frowning and fingering his forelock. "I know what'sburning hot in your fancies. Remember they may be paste, after all.And anyway they're not treasure trove."

  "You mean those pearls might be fake?" Barlow laughed strangely. "Andyou think I might be slittin' throats for them? Don't be an ass,Headlong; I'm sober."

  "Where away, then, in such a hurry?" demanded Kendric, still aware ofsomething amiss in Barlow's bearing.

  "About my business," retorted the sailor. "And suppose you mind yours?"

  Kendric shrugged and went back to his friends. But at the door heturned and saw Barlow hastening along the dim street in the wake of thedisappearing forms of Ruiz Rios and the woman.

  Inside there were some few who sought to console Kendric, thinking thatto any man the loss of ten thousand dollars must be a considerableblow. His answer was a clap on the back and a laughing demand to knowwhat they were driving at and what they took him for, anyway? Thosewho knew him best squandered no sympathy where they knew none wasneeded. To the discerning, though they had never known another man whowon or lost with equal gusto in the game, who when he met fortune ormisfortune "treated those two impostors just the same," Jim Kendric wasexactly what he appeared to be, a devil-may-care sort of fellow who hadinfinite faith in his tomorrow and who had never learned to love money.

  Kendric was relieved when, half an hour later, Twisty Barlow came back.Kendric's mood was boisterous from the sheer joy of being among friendsand once more as good as on home soil. He went up and down among themwith his pockets turned wrong-side out and hanging eloquently, swappingyarns, inviting recitals of wild doings, making a man here and therejoin him in one of the old songs, singing mightily himself. He hadjust given a brief sketch of the manner in which he had acquired hislatest stake; how down in Mexico he had done business with a man whomhe did not trust. Hence Kendric had insisted on having the whole thingin good old U. S. money and then had ridden like the devil beating tanbark to keep ahead of the half-dozen ragged cut-throats who, he wassure, had been started on his trail.

  "And now that I'm rid of it," he said, "I can get a good night's sleep!Who wants to be a millionaire anyway?"

  He saw that though Barlow had once more command of his features, therewas still a feverish gleam in his eyes. And, further, that with risingimpatience Barlow was waiting for him.

  "Come alive, Twisty, old mate," Kendric called to him. "Limber up andgive us a good old deep-sea chantey!"

  Twisty stood where he was, eyeing him curiously.

  "I want to talk to you, Jim," he said. His voice like his look told ofexcitement repressed.

  "It's early," retorted Kendric, "and talk will keep. A night like thiswas meant for other things than for two old fools like you and me tosit in a corner with long faces. Strike up the chantey."

  "You're busted," said Barlow sharply; "You've had your fling and you'veshot your wad. Come along with me. You know what shore I'm headin'to. You know I've got my hooks in that old tub down to San Diego-----"

  "There's a craft in San Diego,"

  improvised Kendric lightly.

  "With no cargo in her hold, And old Twisty Barlow's leased her For to fill her up with Gold. And he'd go a buccaneerin', privateerin', wildly steerin' For the beaches where the sun shines on whole banks of blazin' pearls----"

  But his rhythm was getting away from him and his rhymes petered out andhe stopped, laughing while around him men clamored for more.

  "Oh, there'll be a tale to tell when Twisty sails back," he conceded."But until he's under way there's no tale to tell and so what's the useof talk? A song's better; walk her up, Twisty, old mate."

  Barlow's impatience flared out into irritation.

  "What's the sense of this monkey business?" he demanded. "I'm off toSan Diego by moon-rise. If you ain't with me, you ain't. Just say so,can't you?"

  "A song first, Twisty?" countered Kendric.

  "Will you come listen to me then?" asked Barlow. "Word of honor?"

  It was plain that he was in dead earnest and Kendric cried, "Yes,"quite heartily. Then Barlow, putting up with Kendric's mood sincethere was no other way that one might do for a wilful, spoiled childover which he had no authority of the rod, allowed himself to bedragged to the middle of the room and there, standing side by side, thetwo men lifted their voices to the swing and pulse of "The Flying FishCatcher," through all but interminable verses, while the men about themkept enthusiastic time by tramping heavily with their thick boots. Atthe end Kendric put his arm about the shoulders of his shortercompanion, and in lock step they went out. The party was over.

  "What's on your mind, Seafarer?" asked Kendric when they were outside.

  "Loot, mostly," said Barlow. "But first, while I think of it, RuizRios's wife wants a word with you."

  "What about?" Kendric opened his eyes. And, before Barlow answered,"You saw her then?"

  "I went up to the hotel. Tried to get a room. She saw me and sent foryou. She didn't say what for."

  "Well, I'll not go," Kendric told him. "Now spin your yarn about yourloot."

  He leaned against a lamp post while Twisty Barlow, upright and eager,said his say. A colorful tale it was in which the reciter was lavishwith pearls and ancient gold. It appeared that one had but to saildown the coast of Lower California, up into the gulf and get ashoreupon a certain strip of sandy beach in the shadows of the cliffs.

  "And I tell you I've already got the hull off San Diego that will takeus there," maintained Barlow. "All I'm short of is you to stand yourshare of the hell we'll raise and to chip in with what coin you canscrape. If you hadn't been a damn fool with that ten thousand," headded bitterly.

  "Spilled milk. Forget it. It came out of Mexico and it goes backwhere it belongs. But if you're counting on me for any such amount asthat, you're up a tree. I'm flat."

  "We'll go just the same if you can't raise a bean," said Barlowpositively. "But if you can dig anything, for God's sake scrapelively. We want to get there before somebody else does. And I washopin' you'd come across for grub and some guns and odds and ends."

  "I've got a few oil shares," said Kendric. "If they're roosting aroundpar they're good for twenty-five hundred."

  Barlow brightened.

  "We'll knock 'em down in San Diego if we only get two fifty!" heannounced, considering the sale as good as made. "And we'll do thebest we can on what we get."

  Not yet had Kendric agreed to go adventuring with Twisty Barlow. Butin his soul he knew that he would go, and so did Barlow. There wasnothing to hold him here; from elsewhere the voice which seldom grewquiet was singing in his ears
. He knew something of the gulf intowhich Barlow meant to lead him, and of that defiant, legend-infestedstrip of little-known land which lay in a seven hundred mile stripalong its edge; he knew that if a man found nothing else he would standhis chance of finding life running large. It was the last frontier andas such it had the singing voice.

  "You'll go?" said Barlow.

  But first Kendric asked his few questions. When he had answers to thelast of them his own eyes were shining. His truant fancies at last hadbeen snared; he was going headlong into the thing, he had already cometo believe that at the end of it he would again have filled his pocketsthe while he would have drunk deep of the life that satisfied. It waslong since he had smelled the sea, had known ocean sunrise and sunset,had gone to sleep with his bunk swaying and the water lapping. So whenagain Barlow said, "You'll come?" Kendric's hand shot out to be grippedby way of signing a contract, and his voice rang out joyously, "Put herthere, old mate! I'm with you, blow high, blow low."

  For a few minutes they planned. Then Barlow hurried off to make whatfew arrangements were necessary before they could be in the saddle andriding toward a railroad. Kendric meant to get two or three hours'sleep since he realized that even his hard body could not continueindefinitely as he had been driving it here of late. There was nothingto be done just now that Barlow could not do; before the saddled horsescould be brought for him he could have time for what rest he needed.

  The thought of bed was pleasant as he walked on for he realized that hewas tired in every muscle of his body. The street was deserted savingthe figure of a boy he saw coming toward him. As he was turning acorner the boy's voice accosted him.

  "Senor Kendric," came the call. "_Un momenta_."

  Kendric waited. The boy, a half-breed in ragged clothes, came closeand peered into his face. Then, having made sure, he whipped out asmall parcel from under his torn coat.

  "_Para usted_," he announced.

  Kendric took it, wondering.

  "What is it?" he asked. "Who sent it?"

  But the boy was slouching on down the street. Kendric called sharply;the boy hastened his pace. And when Kendric started after him theragamuffin broke into a run and disappeared down an alley way. Kendricgave him up and came back to the street, tearing off the outer wrap ofthe package under a street lamp. In his hand was a sheaf of bank noteswhich he readily recognized as the very ones he had just now lost atdice, together with a slip of note paper on which were a few finelypenned lines. He held them up to the light in an amazement whichsought an explanation. The words were in Spanish and said briefly:

  "To Senor Jim Kendric because under his laugh he looked sad when helost. From one who does not play at any game with faint hearts."

  His face flushed hot as he read; angrily his big hand crumpled messageand bank notes together. He glanced down the empty street; thenforgetful of bed and rest, his anger rising, he strode swiftly offtoward the hotel, muttering under his breath. The hotel-keeper hefound alone in the little room which served him as office and bedchamber.

  "I want to see Mrs. Rios," said Kendric curtly.

  "You'd be meaning the Mexican lady? Name of Castelmar." He drew hissoiled, inky guest book toward him. "Zoraida Castelmar."

  "I suppose so," answered Kendric. "Where is she?"

  "Your name would be Kendric?" persisted the hotel-keeper. And atKendric's short "Yes," he pointed down the hall. "Third door, leftside. She's expecting you."

  Had Kendric paused to speculate over the implication of the man's wordshe would inevitably have understood the trick Ruiz Rios's companion hadplayed on him. But he was never given to stopping for reflection whenhe had started for a definite goal and furthermore just now his wrathwas consuming him. He went furiously down the hall and struck at thedoor as though it were a man who had stirred his anger by standing inhis path. "Come in," invited a woman's voice in Spanish, theinflection distinctly that of old Mexico. In he went.

  Before him stood an old woman, her face a tangle of deep wrinkles, herhair spotted with white, her eyes small and black and keen. He lookedat her in surprise. Somehow he had counted on finding ZoraidaCastelmar young; just why he was not certain. But the surprise was anemotion of no duration, since a hotter emotion overrode it and crowdedit out.

  "Look here," he began angrily, his hand lifted, the bills tightclenched.

  But she interrupted.

  "You are Senor Kendric, _no_? She awaits you. There."

  She indicated still another door and would have gone to open it forhim. But he brushed by her and threw it back himself and crossed thethreshold impatiently. And again his emotion surging uppermost brieflywas one of surprise. The room was empty; it was the unexpected andincongruous trappings which astonished him. On all hands the walls,from ceiling to floor, were hidden by rich silken curtains, hanging indeep purple folds, displaying a profusion of bright hued wovenpatterns, both splendid and barbaric. The floor was carpeted by a softthick rug, as brilliant as the wall drapes. The two chairs were hiddenunder similar drapes, the small square table covered by a mantle ofdeep blue and gold which fell to the floor. Beyond all of this thesolitary bit of furnishing was the object on the table whose odditycaught and held his eye; a thin column of crystal like a ten-inchneedle, based in a red disc and supporting a hollow cap, the size of anacorn cup, in which was a single stone or bead of glass, he knew notwhich. He only knew that the thing was alive with the fire in it andblazed red, and he fancied it was a ruby.

  He glanced hurriedly about the room, making sure that it was empty.Again his eyes came back to the glowing jewel supported by the thincrystal stem. Now he was conscious of a sweet heavy perfume fillingthe room, a fragrance new to him and subtly exotic. Everything abouthim was fantastic, extravagant, absurd, he told himself bluntly, as waseverything connected with an absurd woman who did mad things. Helooked at the bank notes in his hand. What more insane act than tosend an amount of money of this size to a stranger?

  The familiarly disturbing feeling that eyes, her eyes, were upon him,came again. He turned short about. She stood just across the room,her back to the motionless curtains. Whence she had come and how, hedid not know. She was smiling at him and for the first time he saw hereyes clearly and her dark passionate face and scarlet mouth. He didnot know if she were fifteen or twenty-five. The oval face, thecurving lips were those of a young maiden; her tall, slender figure wasobscured by the loose folds of a snow white garment which fell to thefloor about her; her eyes were just now of any age or ageless,unfathomable, and, though they smiled, filled with a sort of mockerywhich baffled him, confused him, angered him. Upon one point alonethere could be no shadow of doubt; from the top of her proudly liftedhead with its abundance of black hair wherein a jewel gleamed, to thetips of her exquisite fingers where gleamed many jewels, she was almostunhumanly lovely. She looked foreign, but he could not guess what landhad cradled her. Mexico? Why Mexico more than another land? Itstruck him that she would have seemed alien to any land under the sun.She might have sprung from some race of beings upon another star.

  She had marked the look on his face and in her eyes the laughterdeepened and the mockery stood higher. He frowned and stepped to thetable, tossing down the pad of bank notes.

  "That is yours," he told her briefly. "I don't want it and I won'ttake it."

  Then she, too, came forward to the table. Her left hand took up themoney swiftly, eagerly, it struck him, and thrust it out of sightsomewhere among the folds of her gown. Then finally her laughterparted her lips and the low music of it filled the room. He knew in aflash now that she had never meant to allow her winnings to escape her;that there had been craft in the wording of the message she had senthim; that all along she counted on his coming to her as he had come.She sank into the chair nearest her and indicated the other to him.

  "If Senor Kendric will be seated," she said lightly, "I should like tospeak with him."

  In blazing anger had Kendric come here. Now, seeing clearly
just howshe had played with him the blood grew hotter in his face and hammeredat his temples.

  "_Senora_," he said crisply, "there need be no talk between you and mesince we have no business together."

  "_Senorita_," she corrected him curiously. "I am not married."

  "Nor is that a matter for us to discuss." He meant, as he desired, tobe rude to her. "Since it does not interest me."

  "It has interested many men," she laughed at him lightly, but stillwith that intense probing look filling the black depths of her eyes."With them it has been a vital matter."

  Before he had marked something peculiar about the eyes; now he saw justwhat it was. They were Oriental, slanting upward slightly toward thewhite temples. No wonder she had impressed him as foreign. Hewondered if she were Persian or Arabian; if in her blood was a strainof Chinese, even?

  He gave no sign of having heard her but groped for the door throughwhich he had come. It now, like the rest of the walls, was hiddenunder the silken hangings which no doubt had fallen into place when thedoor had closed behind him. He did not remember having shut it;perhaps the old woman in the outer room had done so. And locked it.For when at last his hand found the knob the door would not open.

  "What's all this nonsense about?" he demanded. "I want to go."

  It was her turn to pretend not to have heard. She sat back idly,looking at him fixedly, smiling at him after her strange fashion.

  "I have heard of you," she said at last. "A great deal. I have evenseen you once before tonight. I know the sort of man you are. I knowhow you made your money in Mexico; how you rode with it across theborder. I have never known another man like you, Senor Jim Kendric."

  "Will you have the door unlocked?" he said. "Or shall I smash it offits hinges?"

  "A man with your look and your reputation," she said calmly, "was wortha woman's looking up. When that woman had need for a man." Her eyeswere glittering now; she leaned forward, suddenly rigid and tense andbreathing hard. "When I have found a man who stakes ten thousand,twenty thousand on one throw and is not moved; who returns ten thousandin rage because a word of pity goes with it, am I to let him go?"

  "I don't like the company you keep," said Kendric. "And I don't likeyour ways of doing business. I guess you'll have to let me go."

  "You mean Ruiz Rios?" Her eyes flashed and her two hands clenched.Then she sank back again, laughing. "When you learn to hate him as Ido, senor, then will you know what hate means!"

  He pressed a knee against the door, near the lock. The hangingsgetting in his way, he tore them aside. Zoraida Castelmar watched himhalf in amusement, half in mockery.

  "There is a heavy oak bar on the other side," she told him carelessly.

  "I have a notion," he flung at her, "to take that white throat of yoursin my two hands and choke you!"

  The words startled her, seemed to astound, bewilder.

  "You think that you--that any man--could do that?" It was hardly morethan a whisper full of incredulity.

  "Well, I don't suppose that I would, anyway," he admitted. "But lookhere: I've got some riding ahead of me and I'm dog tired and want awink of sleep. Suppose we get this foolishness over with. What do youwant?"

  "I want you. To go with me to my place where there are dangers to me;yes, even to me. I know the man you are and in what I could trust youand in what I could not. I would make your fortune for you." Againshe looked curiously at him. "Under the hand of Zoraida Castelmar youcould rise high, Senor Kendric."

  He shook his head impatiently before she had done and again at the end.

  "I am no woman's man," he told her steadily, "and I want no place asany woman's watchdog. Offer me what you please, a thousand dollars aday, and I'll say no."

  From its place under his left arm pit he brought out a heavy caliberrevolver, toying with it while he spoke. Her look ran from the blackmetal barrel to his face.

  "Do you think you can frighten me?" she demanded.

  "I don't mean to try. I'll shoot off the lock and the hinges and ifthe door still stands up I'll keep on shooting until the hotel mancomes and lets me out." He put the muzzle of the gun at the lock.

  "Wait!" She sprang to her feet. "I will open for you." She brushedby him and rapped with her knuckles on the door. Beyond was a sound ofa bolt being slipped, of a bar grinding in its sockets. "One thingonly and you can go: When you come before me again it may be you whobegs for favors! And it will be I who grant or withhold as it mayappear wise to me."

  "Witch, are you?" he jeered. "A professional reader of fortunes? Godknows you've got the place fixed up like it!"

  "Maybe," she returned serenely, "I am more than witch. Maybe I do readthat which is hidden. _Quien sabe_, Senor Kendric, scorner of ladies?At least," and again her laughter tantalized him, "I knew where to findyou tonight; I knew you would win from Ruiz Rios; I knew I would winfrom you; I knew you would refuse to come to me and then would come.All this I knew when you took your ten thousand from the bank down inMexico and rode toward the border. Further," and he was baffled toknow whether she meant what her words implied or whether she was merelymaking fun of him, "I have put a charm and a spell over your life fromwhich you are never going to be free. Put as many miles as it pleasesyou between you and Zoraida Castelmar; she will bring you back to herside at a time no more distant than the end of this same month."

  He gave her a contemptuous and angry silence for answer. In the streethe looked up at the stars and filled his lungs with an expanding sighof relief. This companion of Ruiz Rios who paid passionate claim to anintense hatred of the man whom she allowed to escort her here andthere, impressed him as no natural woman at all but as something ofstrange influences, a malign, powerful, implacable spirit incased inthe fair body of a slender girl. He told himself fervently that he wasglad to be beyond the reach of the black oblique eyes.

  Two hours later he was in the saddle, riding knee to knee with TwistyBarlow, headed for San Diego Bay and a man's adventure. "In which,praise be," he muttered under his breath, "there is no room for women."And yet, since strong emotions, like the restless sea, leave their highwater marks when they subside, the image of the girl Zoraida held itsplace in his fancies, to return stubbornly when he banished it, evenher words and her laughter echoing in his memory.

  "I have put a spell and a charm over your life," she had told him.

  "Clap-trap of a charlatan," he growled under his breath. And whenBarlow asked what he had said he cried out eagerly:

  "We can't get into your old tub and out to sea any too soon for me, oldmate."

  Whereupon Barlow laughed contentedly.