"That is very well; but now tell me, dear"--how the word thrilled me; itwas the first time she had used it to me--"did Sam Adams fill you upwith that argument, or is it your own? Don't think me nasty; but I wantto know something of what is going on. Believe me, I am willing todo all _you_ wish if it is your own will; and I am grateful for yourthought for me. But I don't want you to be a mere mouthpiece for anyparty moves by the politicians at home."
"How do you mean?"
"My dear boy, I don't suppose you know enough of American politics tosee how a certain lot would use to their own advantage anything thatcame in their way. Anybody or anything which the public takes aninterest in would be, and is, used by them unscrupulously. Why, if thehangers-on to the war party wanted to make a show, they might enroll myproposers and start a new battalion."
"But," I remonstrated, "you don't think the Government is like that?" Inreply she smiled:
"I don't altogether know about that. Parties are parties all the worldover. But of course the Washington people wouldn't do things that aredone by local politicians. And one other thing. Don't imagine for amoment that I think Sam Adams is anything of the kind. He belongs to theservice of the nation and takes his orders from his chief. How can he,or any one fixed like him, know the ins and outs of things; exceptfrom what he hears privately from home, or gathers from what goes onaround him if he is cute?" It appeared to me that all this was tendingto establish an argument against taking the American Embassy intoconfidence, so I struck in before it should be complete. As I was notat liberty to take Marjory into confidence with regard to my source ofinformation, I had to try to get her to agree to what I thought right ornecessary on other grounds:
"My dearest, can you not leave out politics, American or otherwise. Whaton earth have politics to do with us?" She opened her eyes in wonder;she was reasoning better than I was. With an air of conviction she said:
"Why, everything! If any one wants to do me harm, it must be on thegrounds of politics. I don't believe there is any one in the world whocould want to injure me on private grounds. Oh! my dear, I don't wantto talk about it, not even to you; but all my life I have tried to helpother people in a quiet way. My guardians would tell you that I haveasked them for too much money to give to charities; and personally Ihave tried to do what a girl can in a helpful way to others. I have beenin hospitals and homes of all kinds; and I have classes of girls in myown house and try to make them happier and better. Archie, don't thinkpoorly of me for speaking like this; but I couldn't bear that _you_should think I had no sense of the responsibility of great wealth. Ihave always looked on it as a trust; and I hope, my dear, that in timeto come you will help me to bear the burden and to share the trust!" Ihad thought up to now that I couldn't love her more than I did. But whenI heard her words, and recognised the high purpose that lay behind them,and saw the sweet embarrassment which came to her in speaking them tome, I felt that I had been mistaken. She looked at me lovingly, and,holding my hand in both of hers, went on:
"What then could hurt me except it came from the political side. I couldquite understand it if Spaniards wished to harm me, for I have donewhat I can to hinder them from murdering and torturing other victims.And I could understand if some of our own low-down politicians would tryto use me as a stalking horse, though they wouldn't harm me. I want tokeep clear of politics; and I tell you frankly that I shall if I can."
"But Marjory dear, there may be, I believe there are, Spaniards whowould try to harm you. If you were in America you would be safer fromthem; for there at present, whilst the war is on, every stranger is amarked man. Here, on neutral ground, foreigners are free; and they arenot watched and observed in the same way. If there were such fiends, andI am told there are, they might do you a harm before any one could knowtheir intention or have time to forestall them."
All the native independence of Marjory's race and nature stood out instrong relief as she answered me:
"My dear Archie, I come from a race of men who have held their lives intheir hands from the cradle to the grave. My father, and my grandfather,and my great grandfather were pioneers in Illinois, in Kentucky, inthe Rockies and California. They knew that there were treacherous foesbehind them every hour of their lives; and yet they were not afraid. AndI am not afraid either. Their blood is in my veins, and speaks loudly tome when any sense of fear comes near me. Their brains, as well as theirhands, kept guard on their lives; and my brains are like theirs. I donot fear any foe, open or secret. Indeed, when I think of a secret foeall the keenness of my people wakes in me, and I want to fight. And thissecret work is a way in which a woman can fight in an age like ours. Ifmy enemies plot, I can counter-plot; if they watch without faltering tocatch me off guard, I can keep guard unflinchingly. A woman can't go outnow-a-days, except at odd times, and fight with weapons like Joan ofArc, or the Maid of Saragossa; but she can do her fighting in her ownway, level with her time. I don't see that if there is to be dangeraround me, why I shouldn't do as my ancestors did, fight harder thantheir foes. Here! let me tell you something now, that I intended to saylater. Do you know what race of men I come from? Does my name tell younothing? If not, then this will!"
She took from her neck, where again it had been concealed by a lacecollar, the golden jewel which I had rescued from the sea. As I took itin my hand and examined it she went on:
"That came to me from my father, who got it from his, and he from his,on and on till our story of it, which is only verbal, for we have norecords, is lost in the legend that it is a relic of the Armada broughtto America by two cousins who had married, both being of the family towhich the great Sir Francis Drake belonged. I didn't know, till lately,and none of us ever did, where exactly in the family the last owners ofthe brooch came in, or how they became possessed of such a beautifuljewel. But you have told me in your translation of Don de Escoban'snarrative. That was the jewel that Benvenuto Cellini made in duplicatewhen he wrought the figurehead for the Pope's galley. The Pope gave itto Bernardino de Escoban, and he gave it to Admiral Pedro de Valdes.I have been looking up the history of the time since I saw you, and Ifound that Admiral de Valdes when he was taken prisoner by Sir FrancisDrake at the fight with the Armada was kept, pending his ransom, in thehouse of Richard Drake, kinsman of Sir Francis. How the Drake family gotpossession of the brooch I don't know; but anyhow I don't suppose theystole it. They were a kindly lot in private, any of them that I everknew; though when they were in a fight they fough
t like demons. The oldSpanish Dons were generous and free with their presents, and I take itthat when Pedro de Valdes got his ransom he made the finest gift hecould to those who had been kind to him. That is the way I figure itout."
Whilst she was speaking, thoughts kept crowding in upon me. Here wasindeed the missing link in the chain of Marjory's connection with thehidden treasure; and here was the beginning of the end of Gormala'sprophecy, for as such I had come to regard it. The Fates were at workupon us. Clotho was spinning the thread which was to enmesh Marjory andmyself and all who were in the scheme of the old prophecy of the Mysteryof the Sea and its working out.
Once more the sense of impotence grew upon me. We were all asshuttlecocks, buffeted to and fro without power to alter our course.With the thought came that measure of resignation which is the anodyneto despair. In a sort of trance of passivity I heard Marjory's voice runon:
"Therefore, my dear Archie, I will trust to you to help me. Thecomradeship which has been between us, will never through this growless; though nearer and dearer and closer ties may seem to overshadowit."
I could not answer such reasoning; but I took her in my arms and kissedher. I understood, as she did, that my kisses meant acquiescence in herwishes. After a while I said to her:
"One thing I must do. I owe it as a duty of honour to tell my informantthat I am unable to give your address to the American Embassy, and thatI cannot myself take a part in anything which is to be done except byyour consent. But oh! my dear, I fear we are entering on a dangerouscourse. We are all staying deliberately in the dark, whilst there islight to be had; and we shall need all the light which we can get."Then a thought struck me and I added, "By the way, I suppose I am freeto give information how I can, so long as you are not committed orcompromised?" She thought for quite a few minutes before she answered.I could see that she was weighing up the situation, and considering itfrom all points of view. Then she said, putting both her hands in mine:
"In this, as in all ways, Archie, I know that I can trust you. There isso much more than even this between us, that I should feel mean to giveit a thought hereafter!"
CHAPTER XXI
THE OLD FAR WEST AND THE NEW
Presently Marjory jumped up and said:
"Now you must get your wheel and come over to Crom. I am burning to showit to you!" We crossed the little isthmus and climbed the rocks abovethe Reivie o' Pircappies. As we topped the steep path I almost fell backwith the start I gave.
There sat Gormala MacNiel, fixed and immovable as though she were ofstone. She looked so unconcerned that I began to suspect her. At firstshe seemed not to notice us; but I could see that she was looking at usunder her eyelashes. I was anxious to find out how long she had beenthere, so I said, mentioning her name in order that Marjory might knowwho she was:
"Why, Gormala, what has become of you? I thought you were off again tothe Islands. We haven't seen you for a long time." She replied in herusual uncompromising way:
"I hae nae doot that ye thocht me far, gin ye did na see me. Aye! Aye!the time has been lang; but I could wait: I could wait!"
"What were you waiting for?" Marjory's voice seemed almost as that of abeing from another world. It was so fresh, so true, so independent thatit seemed at variance with Gormala and her whole existence. As a manbeside two women, I felt more as a spectator than as a participant, andmy first general impression was that the New World was speaking to theOld. Gormala seemed to me absolutely flabbergasted. She stared, andlooked in a dazed way, at the girl, standing up as she did so with theinstinctive habit, ingrained through centuries of custom, of an inferiorto a superior. Then she moved her hand across her forehead, as though toclear her brain, before she replied:
"What was I waitin' for? I'll tell ye, an ye will. I was waitin' for thefulfillment o' the Doom. The Voices hae spoken; and what they hae said,will be. There be them that would stand in the way o' Fate, and wouldtry to hinder the comin' that must be. But they will fail; they willfail! They can no more block the river o' time wi' ony deeds o' mon,than they can dam the spate wi' a bairn's playtoy." Again came Marjory'ssearching question, with all the mystery-dispelling freshness of herunfettered youth; and indeed it seemed as if the Old-world mystery couldnot hold its dignity in the face of overt, direct questioning:
"By the way, what was it that the Doom said? Was it anything that anAmerican girl can understand?" Gormala gazed at her in manifest wonder.To her, reared in the atmosphere of the Old Far West, this product ofthe New Far West seemed like a being of another world. Had Marjory beenless sweet in her manner than she was, or less fair to look upon, lessdignified, or less grave, the old woman would probably have shownhostility at once. But it seemed to me impossible that even awitch-woman could be hostile to Marjory to-day. She looked so sweet, andkind and happy; so bright and joyous; so much like the incarnation ofideal girlhood, that criticism was disarmed, and hostility could notforce a way into the charmed circle of that radiant presence. To me, herattitude towards Gormala was incomprehensible. She knew Gormala, for Ihad told her of who and what the Seer was, and of the prophecies andwarnings that she had already uttered; and yet from her manner sheappeared ignorant of all concerning both her and them. She was notconciliatory after the manner of the young who wish to please the old,or to ingratiate themselves with them. She was not hostile, as would beone who had determined on opposition. About her or her manner there wasnothing hard, or frivolous or contradictory. And yet it was apparent tome that she had some fixed, determined purpose of her own; and it becamebefore long apparent to me also, that the other woman knew, or at anyrate suspected, such an existence, though she could neither comprehendnor locate it. Gormala seemed once, twice, as though she were about tospeak, but hesitated; at last with an effort she spoke out: