第48章

Then I'd arrest everybody I didn't like, and levy forced loans on all the merchants, and sail away to Paris and live happy ever after.That's what Mendoza would do if he caught any one plotting against him.And that's what Alvarez should do, too, according to his lights, if he had the courage of his convictions, and of his education.I like to see a man play his part properly, don't you? If you are an emperor, you ought to conduct yourself like one, as our German friend does.Or if you are a prize-fighter, you ought to be a human bulldog.

There's no such thing as a gentlemanly pugilist, any more than there can be a virtuous burglar.And if you're a South American Dictator, you can't afford to be squeamish about throwing your enemies into jail or shooting them for treason.The way to dictate is to dictate,--not to hide indoors all day while your wife plots for you.''

``Does she do that?'' asked Hope.``And do you think she will be in danger--any personal danger, if the revolution comes?''

``Well, she is very unpopular,'' Clay answered, ``and unjustly so, I think.But it would be better, perhaps, for her if she went as quietly as possible, when she does go.''

``Is our Captain Stuart in danger, too?'' the girl continued, anxiously.``Alice says they put up placards about him all over the city last night.She saw his men tearing them down as she was coming home.What has he done?''

``Nothing,'' Clay answered, shortly.``He happens to be in a false position, that's all.They think he is here because he is not wanted in his own country; that is not so.That is not the reason he remains here.When he was even younger than he is now, he was wild and foolish, and spent more money than he could afford, and lent more money to his brother-officers, I have no doubt, than they ever paid back.He had to leave the regiment because his father wouldn't pay his debts, and he has been selling his sword for the last three years to one or another king or sultan or party all over the world, in China and Madagascar, and later in Siam.I hope you will be very kind to Stuart and believe well of him, and that you will listen to no evil against him.Somewhere in England Stuart has a sister like you--about your age, I mean, that loves him very dearly, and a father whose heart aches for him, and there is a certain royal regiment that still drinks his health with pride.He is a lonely little chap, and he has no sense of humor to help him out of his difficulties, but he is a very brave gentleman.And he is here fighting for men who are not worthy to hold his horse's bridle, because of a woman.And I tell you this because you will hear many lies about him--and about her.He serves her with the same sort of chivalric devotion that his ancestors felt for the woman whose ribbons they tied to their lances, and for whom they fought in the lists.''

``I understand,'' Hope said, softly.``I am glad you told me.I shall not forget.'' She sighed and shook her head.``Iwish they'd let you manage it for them,'' she said.

Clay laughed.``I fear my executive ability is not of so high an order; besides, as I haven't been born to it, my conscience might trouble me if I had to shoot my enemies and rob the worthy merchants.I had better stick to digging holes in the ground.

That is all I seem to be good for.''

Hope looked up at him, quickly, in surprise.

``What do you mean by that?'' she demanded.There was a tone of such sharp reproach in her voice that Clay felt himself put on the defensive.

``I mean nothing by it,'' he said.``Your sister and I had a talk the other day about a man's making the best of himself, and it opened my eyes to--to many things.It was a very healthy lesson.''

``It could not have been a very healthy lesson,'' Hope replied, severely, ``if it makes you speak of your work slightingly, as you did then.That didn't sound at all natural, or like you.It sounded like Alice.Tell me, did Alice say that?''

The pleasure of hearing Hope take his part against himself was so comforting to Clay that he hesitated in answering in order to enjoy it the longer.Her enthusiasm touched him deeply, and he wondered if she were enthusiastic because she was young, or because she was sure she was right, and that he was in the wrong.

``It started this way,'' Clay began, carefully.He was anxious to be quite fair to Miss Langham, but he found it difficult to give her point of view correctly, while he was hungering for a word that would re-establish him in his own good opinion.``Your sister said she did not think very much of what I had done, but she explained kindly that she hoped for better things from me.

But what troubles me is, that I will never do anything much better or very different in kind from the work I have done lately, and so I am a bit discouraged about it in consequence.

You see,'' said Clay, ``when I come to die, and they ask me what I have done with my ten fingers, I suppose I will have to say, `Well, I built such and such railroads, and I dug up so many tons of ore, and opened new countries, and helped make other men rich.' I can't urge in my behalf that I happen to have been so fortunate as to have gained the good-will of yourself or your sister.That is quite reason enough to me, perhaps, for having lived, but it might not appeal to them.I want to feel that Ihave accomplished something outside of myself--something that will remain after I go.Even if it is only a breakwater or a patent coupling.When I am dead it will not matter to any one what I personally was, whether I was a bore or a most charming companion, or whether I had red hair or blue.It is the work that will tell.And when your sister, whose judgment is the judgment of the outside world, more or less, says that the work is not worth while, I naturally feel a bit discouraged.It meant so much to me, and it hurt me to find it meant so little to others.''