Читать книгу The Man and His Kingdom - E. Phillips Oppenheim - Страница 5

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The President of the Republic of San Martina paused for a moment with the pen in his fingers. At his right hand stood Colonel Juan Sanarez, second in command of the army and a man of note in San Martina. On his other side was Señor Mopez, secretary and general adviser to the President himself, and the principal attorney of his dominion. In a chair on the opposite side of the table was Dene.

"Before I sign this deed, Señor Dene," the President said, laying down his pen and taking the long black cigar from his mouth, "there is a clause which, if it be acceptable to you, I should desire to add. Mine is a small dominion. My army, brave and well-disciplined though it certainly is, numbers but a few hundreds. The population of San Martina has in it many troublesome elements; it is necessary to keep always a firm hand over them."

Dene, who a few months ago had seen a policeman hung from a lamp-post to commemorate a Saint's day, felt himself able to agree with the President so far. He signified the same gravely and waited for more.

"Now by this deed," the President continued, tapping it with a plump forefinger, "I yield to you on lease for nine hundred and ninety-nine years the valley of Beau Desir. It is very well. Now you have there already dependents of yours over two hundred, English most of them I believe. Their numbers will increase. You will become a power in my country. Is it not so, Señor?"

"It is more than likely," Dene answered, comparing for a moment in his mind the heterogeneous mob who thronged the streets of San Martina with the sturdy hard-working kind of men who were making fertile the valley of Beau Desir.

"To-day," the President continued, "San Martina is at peace and free from dissensions owing to our judicious arrest and imprisonment of the most troublesome miscreant who ever cursed an unfortunate country by making it his place of residence. But, how long will this continue? Who can say?"

"Who can say?" echoed Sanarez.

"Who, indeed, can say?" repeated Mopez gloomily.

"If I did my duty," the President declared solemnly, "I should have that man shot. But I am too merciful Is it not so, my friends? I am too merciful. I shrink from taking human life."

Sanarez and Mopez exchanged glances, and a covert smile lurked for a moment on the lips of both of them. They knew very well that if President Rimarez dared, he would order this traitor to be shot that very instant without hesitation, and with a light heart—that he was even now engaged in completing arrangements for his secret assassination. But the ways of small Republics in the southern hemisphere are peculiar, and they held their peace.

"No," President Rimarez continued with a sigh, "it is a weakness, Señor, for which I trust you will not despise me, but I cannot bring myself to sign this man's death-warrant. At the same time, he has stirred up a troublesome spirit amongst my people, closely though he is confined. Whilst he lives, he is a source of secret danger to the Republic. A rising is not probable, but as time goes on, who can say? One must be prepared. The clause, Señor, which I propose to add to our agreement is simply this, that in the event of any insurrection in my dominion you engage yourself to bear arms for the government who grants you this charter."

Dene moved uneasily in his chair, and looked thoughtful. The prospect opened up by the President's words, carefully guarded though they had been, was not a pleasant one. He spoke slowly and thoughtfully.

"This comes rather as a surprise to me. President," he said. "My men are men of peace, farm labourers and artisans most of them. I doubt whether one in twenty of them can even handle a revolver."

The President smiled indulgently.

"They are mostly English," he said, "and Englishmen with their fists alone are a match for most of these low half-breeds with their shoddy weapons. Do not let that concern you. If there should be an insurrection it would be an insurrection of ill-armed cowards whom my few brave soldiers would scatter like chaff. Yet it is well to make provision. Some such clause, as this should, I think, be inserted."

Dene remained silent.

"I must admit," he said, after a lengthy pause, "that this opens up to me a fresh view of the matter before us. If civil war is a possibility here, am I wise to invest so much money in land whose crops and cattle might be liable to destruction at any moment by a raid on the part of the rebels? To tell you the truth, I had fancied that your state was too small for any trouble of this sort."

A shade of anxiety crossed the President's face. He stole a glance at the great pile of bills which lay between them on the table. The Republic, and particularly its President, was in urgent need of funds—this money was like a godsend. An uncomfortable sensation chilled him at the bare idea of any hitch in the negotiations.

"Civil war," he said slowly, "is possible anywhere. At the same time, I do not wish to give you a false impression. I say it is possible anywhere, but I think I may add that I could think of no spot in Central or South America where it is so unlikely to occur as here."

The Colonel and the Secretary exchanged glances of admiration. Truly President Rimarez was a great man. Their morning had been pleasantly spent in trying and shooting two of the secret agents of the popular party in San Martina, and the disclosures which they had elicited by means not altogether in vogue amongst civilised nations, had greatly increased the President's desire to obtain possession of this very useful sum of money.

"Then why insert it at all?" Dene asked.

The President shrugged his shoulders.

"In a document of this nature," he said, tapping with his forefinger the sheets of folded paper, "many contingencies have to be provided for, which are, to say the least of it, very unlikely to occur. I look upon civil war, under our present administration, as about as improbable as an earthquake. Yet, as our friend Señor Mopez will tell us, some mention of such an event is legally a necessity. But come, we shall not quarrel. Bah! the idea is absurd. This suggestion is not welcome to you? Very good. I will amend it. We will insert a clause by which you guarantee to supply with neither food or shelter, arms or men any person or persons engaged in rebellion against or outlawed from the State of San Martina. This you cannot object to, for you take the oath of allegiance to the Republic and to myself as President when you take possession of Beau Desir."

"That," Dene said, "I agree to. But I will be frank with you. The mere suggestion of war here has made me a little uneasy. It is most distasteful to me. Now, I shall ask you to insert some such clause as this—that in the event of any of the possessions, crops, machinery or domiciles of myself or any of my people being destroyed or damaged by any insurrection in San Martina, that we are at liberty to claim compensation from the Government."

The President and his two advisers exchanged rapid glances. The same thought was in the minds of each of them. A claim for compensation in their courts would be rather a joke. The ghost of a smile flickered upon the lips of the Secretary. They conferred for a moment in whispers. Then the President turned round and gravely announced that they had decided to waive their natural objections to such a clause.

"We have given you, Señor Dene," the President said, "a very favourable charter because we believe in you and your system, and because we know that where Englishmen are, prosperity follows. We are now agreed."

He dipped his pen in the ink, and with a magnificent splutter wrote his name with many flourishes across the great red seal. Dene followed his example. The notary took the pile of bills to another table, and carefully counted them.

"You have made, Señor Dene," the President said, leaning back in his chair and lighting a fresh cigar, "a very excellent bargain. I will not conceal it from you that we have yielded to your wishes on many points, because your money comes to us at a time when it can very profitably be made use of."

"In the extension of our new system of schools," the notary put in quietly, glancing up from his task.

"Precisely," the President remarked, thinking of that little French schooner laden with rifles and revolvers which lay in the bay waiting for the money before she would consent to land her cargo.

"We are anxious," he continued, "to establish a scheme of free education throughout San Martina on a broad and sound basis."

"A very excellent thing," said Dene, rising and thrusting the charter into his pocket.

The President laid his hand upon his shoulder.

"You must come with me," he said, "and be presented to my wife and daughter. They await us now. In your honour they have, I believe, prepared your national refreshment; afternoon tea—is it not—you call it?"

Dene expressed his delight, and the President took his arm. They left the room together.

Colonel Sanarez and the Secretary exchanged glances as soon as they found themselves alone.

"What an imbecile!" exclaimed the former.

"It is the folly of his thick-skulled nation," agreed the Secretary.

"The money is all right, is it not?" the Colonel asked eagerly.

The other nodded.

"Yes—except that I wish it had been all in bills. The draft here we must send to Buenos Ayres. It cannot be paid into the National Bank."

"And why not?" demanded the Colonel.

Mopez smiled.

"Unfortunately, as our most distinguished President remarked, the finances of San Martina are scarcely in that condition which one would expect in so admirably governed a State. The National Bank have refused to honour our bonds, and the Manager is at this moment hiding in the cellar and expecting to be hauled out and shot. As a matter of fact, the Republic of San Martina is to-day without a banking account."

"I will tell you," the Colonel said, "how we can dispose of the draft. We can pay it to the Frenchman for that cargo of arms."

"It would be," the notary said thoughtfully, "a scandalous waste of public money to pay cash for the whole shipment."

"He will never leave them without," the Colonel replied gloomily. "He is a person without breeding or any sense of delicacy. We sent a boat this morning for a hundred rifles, with an order signed by the Government, and he refused—positively refused to send them."

"Miscreant."

"He was worse. He sent back a message which was an insult. He said the money with the order, or no rifles. He had been here before. The rascal!"

The Secretary smiled softly.

"We must see, my friend," he said, "whether it may not be possible for us to give him a lesson in manners. Meanwhile, a cigarette."