# Spanish Gold/Chapter 15
### CHAPTER XV

MAJOR KENT came on deck. He was agitated and showed signs of being in a hurry. Without speaking a word to Meldon he went to the end of the boom and began to unlace the cover of the mainsail. Meldon watched him take it off, roll it up, and stow it in the sail locker.
"What are you at now?" said Meldon.
"I'm going to get up sail and go home at once. I'll listen to no more talk from you, J. J. I've had too much of it already. My mind is made up. I'll not stay in this place another hour."
"Why?"
"Why?" said the Major, who was casting loose the ties which bound the mainsail to the boom. "Do you ask me why? Didn't you hear Higginbotham saying that the Chief Secretary is on the island. I'm not going to stay here to be made look like a fool over all the lies you've told. What could I say to the man if I met him?"
"Do you mean about the geological survey?"
"Yes, I do. Of course I do. And about Sir Giles being a medical missionary or whatever the fool lie you told about him was. And about the National Board of Education building a school, Higginbotham is sure to tell him everything you've said."
"You may make your mind quite easy so far as the school is concerned. That is no business of the Chief Secretary's. The Education Board is the one thing in the country that he has no control over. That came out in Parliament some time ago, as you ought to remember."
"Well, what about the geological survey? You said I'd been sent here by the Chief Secretary and the Lord-Lieutenant. And what about Sir Giles and the tuberculosis?"
"Take one thing at a time, Major, like a good man, and don't confuse yourself. You're afraid he'll be angry because I said he sent you here to make a geological survey of the island. I assure you he won't even be surprised. You don't know these Cabinet Ministers, and of course it's hard for you to realise the life they lead. Now just listen to me. That man, Eustace Willoughby, spends his time mainly in receiving deputations. Hundreds and hundreds of deputations wait on him every week. There isn't a public body in the country, not so much as an Association of Licensed Publicans, which doesn't send two or three deputations to each Chief Secretary. I expect he's receiving one this moment, headed by Thomas O'Flaherty Pat. To every deputation he says something—something nice and sympathetic. He must, you know. That's how he earns his salary. Now I put it to you as a sensible man, can he possibly recollect all the things he's said to all the deputations? He can't, of course. You put a bold face on it. Speak to him civilly but without any show of timidity. Tell him that you went to him as part of a deputation from the Irish Incorporated Geological Surveyors Institute, and that he sent you to this island. He won't know in the least what you're talking about, but he'll be afraid to give himself away by saying he doesn't remember. He'll believe what you say. He must."
"I don't mean to give him the chance. I'm going home."
"Well, if you funk it," said Meldon, "though I can't myself see what there is to be afraid of, I'll go on shore and talk to him. I'll settle the matter all right. You can trust me not to let you in for anything unpleasant."
"I wouldn't trust you an inch. I've trusted you a great deal too much already, and look at the fix I'm in. I'm going straight home."
"Think of the treasure."
"I wouldn't give you the chance of talking to the Chief Secretary for £500 down. You'd make things worse than they are at present, if that's possible."
"Do think of the treasure," said Meldon persuasively.
"There's no treasure, or if there is, somebody else has got it. I tell you I wouldn't stay here to be ballyragged and bullied by a Chief Secretary for all the treasure in the world."
"I'm not putting the matter before you in that selfish way at all. Do try to be a little altruistic, Major. I am speaking about the treasure from the point of view of public duty. Either Higginbotham or Thomas O'Flaherty Pat, probably the latter, has the treasure. But that scoundrel Sir Giles means to steal it. I could see it in his eye that he meant to, and so could you. Sir Giles, as you know, is a man who sticks at nothing. He wanted to murder me to-day with a stone. We're the only people on the island who are in a position to interfere with his abominable plans. If we go away he'll do poor old Thomas O'Flaherty out of his hard-earned gold. He'll rob Mary Kate of her inheritance, of the money that would make life brighter for her. I tell you, Major, I've got to be very fond of that little girl and I won't let the thing be done. Or, if it's Higginbotham that has the money, Sir Giles will go at night and cut Higginbotham's throat. You wouldn't like to think of poor Higginbotham lying all gory in a lonely grave in Inishgowlan, far from his family burying-place and the associations of his innocent youth. It'll be your fault, remember, if he does, because you won't stay here to protect him. I should think that Higginbotham's ghost, a most objectionable-looking spectre, will haunt you to the end of your life. And you'll richly deserve it."
Major Kent made no answer. He loosed the halyard from the belaying pin at the foot of the mast.
"You're still determined," said Meldon, "after all I've said, to get up sail."
"Yes; I'm going home."
"You may get up sail but you'll not go home."
"Why not?"
"Because there's no wind, as you could have seen for yourself long ago if you hadn't been off your head with nervousness. It may amuse you to hoist the sails and get up anchor, and then drift about, up and down the bay, till night-time. The only result will be that you'll go foul of the Aureole or the Granuaile. If that's what you want to do, I'll help you, of course; but I must say it seems to me a rotten way of spending the afternoon."
Major Kent sat down on the deck and glared at Meldon.
"Why couldn't you have told me that before," he said, "instead of standing there and talking like a born fool?"
"I preferred," said Meldon, "to appeal to your higher nature first. I'd like to have seen you doing your plain duty voluntarily. There's very little credit in staying here simply because there's no wind to take you away."
Major Kent smiled feebly.
"I give up," he said. "Say what you like to the Chief Secretary; make any muddle you can. You'll most likely land me in prison before you've done. You'll certainly have every newspaper in the three kingdoms making fun of us. I can't help it. I can do no more. I don't even mean to try."
"You needn't; I'll manage all right. All you have to do is to keep cool and avoid fuss and excitement. Come on shore and let us interview the Chief Secretary at once. I expect we'll find him quite a reasonable man. After all, a fellow can't climb right up to the top of the tree, become a Chief Secretary, a Cabinet Minister, and all that sort of thing, without being more or less reasonable. As long as a man is reasonable it's always quite easy to get on with him. The people who kick up rows and make themselves unpleasant are the smaller kind, the men with prejudices and ridiculous conventional views. Willoughby must have knocked about a good deal in his day. I know he's been ragged a lot by Suffragettes, and that shakes a man up. I expect we'll find him quite amusing."
A boat pulled by two men with a coxswain in the stern left the pier and headed for the Granuaile. Major Kent saw her and pointed her out.
"Perhaps he's leaving at once," he said; "the yacht has steam up still."
Meldon got the glasses and took a long look at the boat, following her in her course to the Granuaile.
"He's not in that boat," he said. "He wouldn't be pulling an oar himself. That wouldn't be suitable for a man in his position, and the fellow who's steering is evidently one of the yacht's officers. He has gold buttons on his coat. Besides, they'd be sure to fly a white ensign, or whistle 'God Save the King,' or make some kind of show if they had a Chief Secretary on board; whereas that's just a plain, ordinary boat."
He laid down the glasses and looked at the pier.
"I see a stranger standing there with Higginbotham," he said; "a plump, little man in light grey clothes with a Panama hat. Give me the glasses again. He has a small brown moustache and a thick, short nose, I can see him distinctly. It's certainly the Right Honourable Eustace Willoughby. I'd know him anywhere by his likeness to a cartoon there was of him in Punch a couple of weeks ago. I wonder, now, why the boat's going off and leaving him there?"
He shifted his position and looked at the Granuaile again.
"By Jove! the yacht's getting up anchor and hoisting the boat on the davits. She's off somewhere in the dickens of a hurry. But why have they left the Chief Secretary behind? What will he do? He can't surely mean to stop the night in Higginbotham's wigwam. There's only one bed, and I happen to know that it's full of broken glass. It was just underneath the pane I smashed this morning when I hove the oars in through the window. All the bits of glass went into the bed; I saw them. This is becoming serious. The Granuaile is certainly off. He must mean to sleep in Higginbotham's bed. He'll probably lose his temper if he does. No man likes being cut about the body with broken glass just as he's going off to sleep. I wouldn't like it myself, and I expect it would be perfect torture to a plump man like Willoughby. What had I better do?"
"I don't know," said the Major. "I dare say you're sorry now that there's no wind. I think if I were you I'd go ashore and try to slip round some back way and sweep out Higginbotham's bed before night."
"I won't do that. I hate sneaking, underhand ways of doing things. Let us be gentlemen, Major, whatever else we are. We'll go ashore with our heads up. We've nothing to be ashamed of."
"You may go by yourself. I won't. I'll stay on the yacht till there's breeze enough to take her out of this."
"Very well, I'll go alone. After all, the man is a stranger here, and whether there's glass in his bed or not we ought to try and cheer him up. Higginbotham isn't very interesting. I'm sure he's boring Willoughby already. I expect the poor man is feeling a bit lonely too, seeing the Granuaile go off. By the way, I wonder where she's going to? She headed for the south point of the island, and that looks rather as if she meant to fetch Inishmore. I hope to goodness Higginbotham hasn't been talking about Sir Giles and the tuberculosis. I'd like to have a chance of making a good impression before I have to begin explaining that business. I wish Sir Giles hadn't gone off in a ridiculous huff. If we'd been friends I might have got him to stand over the tuberculosis and it would have been all right. The Chief Secretary couldn't well contradict a baronet, whatever he might think in his own mind. It isn't my fault Sir Giles took offence the way he did. I was telling him the literal truth. I couldn't start inventing a lot of lies just to please him."
"I don't see why you couldn't. You've invented plenty the last few days."
"I'm going on shore now," said Meldon. "I see Willoughby and Higginbotham strolling up together towards the hut. I don't suppose he's likely to go to bed at this hour of the afternoon, but in case of accidents I'll go at once."
"The only thing you seem to mind about is that broken glass. It doesn't seem to me nearly so serious as the other things."
"It isn't. Considered by itself, it isn't really serious at all. The thing is that Higginbotham won't know how it got there. He won't have any explanation to offer. The Chief Secretary, gashed and bleeding, will blame the wrong man. He'll think that Higginbotham has been playing off some new kind of apple-pie bed on him and he'll be upset about it. That will ruin Higginbotham's prospects in life. That's why I'm anxious about the bed. I must get off at once."
"Go on," said the Major with a sigh. "The Lord alone knows what you'll do when you get ashore. Things can't be much worse, anyway."
"Don't be gloomy," said Meldon, as he got into the punt. "Just trust me a little. I'm not at the end of my resources yet, by any means. After all, what's a Chief Secretary? I suppose he's only flesh and blood like the rest of us. And besides, he's a migratory kind of bird. He's here to-day, and back in his native England to-morrow."
Higginbotham, his face white with anxiety and distress, ran down the hill from his hut and greeted Meldon as he came alongside the pier.
"Meldon," he said, "I'm awfully sorry, but you'd better go back to the yacht at once. Don't come on shore. Like a good man, go back. I can't tell you how sorry I am about it all. He's frightfully angry."
"Who's angry?" said Meldon, stepping ashore with the painter in his hand. "Do try to be intelligible, Higginbotham, and don't speak till you've got your breath. I hate having things gasped out at me. Who's angry?"
"The Chief Secretary."
"Has he gone to bed yet?"
"No, he hasn't. Why should he go to bed? He's up at my place sitting on a chair. I left him just for a moment when I saw you coming ashore. I ran down to warn you, in case you thought of coming up."
"If he hasn't gone to bed," said Meldon, "I don't see that he's anything particular to be angry about."
"It's about Major Kent and the geological survey of the island. He said he'd never heard of such a thing in his life. He said a most unwarrantable use had been made of his name. I can't tell you all he said. He called it intolerable insolence. I give you my word, Meldon, I wouldn't have mentioned the matter if I'd had the slightest idea that you were only pulling my leg. I really believed you. Why didn't you tell me?"
"If I'd told you I shouldn't have pulled your leg. What on earth would be the use of playing off a spoof on a man and at the same time telling him you were doing it? I wish you'd be reasonable, Higginbotham."
"Fortunately I didn't mention the National School or Sir Giles Buckley. When I saw how things really were, I dried up at once. I'm more sorry than I can possibly tell you. Somehow I never thought——"
"That'll do," said Meldon. "Don't go on apologising. I don't blame you in the least. You acted in a perfectly natural way."
Meldon stooped and made fast the painter of the punt.
"You're not coming ashore, are you?" said Higginbotham. "Don't do it. Please don't. Go back to the yacht."
"I'm going up to have a chat with the Chief Secretary," said Meldon.
"But he won't speak to you, I know he won't. I tell you he's simply savage."
"It's for your sake I'm going. I want to prevent your getting into trouble. I don't want to have your prospects blighted on account of any misunderstanding with the Chief Secretary."
"But I'm not in any trouble. I assure you he doesn't blame me. He said so himself. It's only you he's angry with."
"If he's not angry with you now, he very soon will be. As soon as ever he gets into bed he'll be wanting to tear you limb from limb, unless I go up and straighten things out."
"But why? What has he to be angry with me about?"
"You'll find that put as soon as he gets into bed."
Meldon began to walk towards the hut. Higginbotham's fears came back on him and rendered him almost inarticulate. He seized Meldon by the arm and tried to hold him forcibly. With actual tears in his eyes he entreated his friend to stop. He ejaculated unintelligible sentences about "awful rows," "legal proceedings," and "public disgrace." He even mentioned high treason.
"Don't be an ass," said Meldon. "I'm going up to talk sense to that Chief Secretary. If everybody else he comes across is as much afraid of him as you are, it's quite time that somebody that isn't took him in hand. Pull yourself together, Higginbotham, and come up with me. I want you to introduce me. It's awkward walking in on a man you've never met without an introduction."
Higginbotham shook his head. After a last appeal he sat down helplessly on the grass. Meldon walked on towards the hut.