Chapter 3 BENEVOLENCES

Se?or José Fagasta was seated in a deep chair on the balcony of his house overlooking the plaza. It was a hot afternoon, and he had exchanged his black coat for a loose jacket of white alpaca. An awning and his broad-brimmed Panama hat gave shelter from the sun. At his side was a small table, with a glass and a decanter. Between his lips there was a long cigar. It had gone out: the gobernador was asleep.

He was suddenly roused by the sound of cheering up the street. Rubbing his eyes, and taking automatically a pull at his extinguished cigar, he let out a smothered ejaculation, struggled to his feet, and hastened into the house. The cause of these abrupt movements was the appearance of a party of horsemen trotting into the plaza at the upper end--the Prefect of the province, accompanied by a small escort.

The gobernador hurried to his dressing-room, threw off his jacket, and was struggling into his frock coat when he was summoned to attend the Prefect below. He durst not delay. He held the Prefect in awe, as was only natural, seeing that it was the Prefect who had appointed him to his office, at the cost of a very considerable fee. In his haste and perturbation he forgot that he wore a Panama, and was only reminded of it when the Prefect, who was just entering the hall as Se?or Fagasta came to the foot of the staircase, looked with stern disapproval over his head.

"A thousand pardons, se?or," said the confused gobernador. "I was taking a brief siesta, and did not expect to be honoured by a visit from your excellency."

He swept off his hat, bowed his head before his superior, and politely invited him to a seat in the patio.

The Prefect, a tall sharp-featured man of about forty years, with keen black eyes over which bushy eyebrows met, and a heavy moustache twisted into long points, accepted the chair, laying his three-cornered hat on a table. His manner made the gobernador uneasy.

"An extraordinary rumour has reached me, se?or doctor," said the Prefect, "that you were seen yesterday in a very undignified position, unworthy of your office, riding on a motor-cycle behind the young Inglés."

"It is true, se?or," said the gobernador. "I had never experienced that novel mode of locomotion, and I assure your excellency that I shall never try it again."

"Such conduct, se?or, is calculated to bring your responsible office into contempt. It cannot be overlooked: you are dismissed."

For a moment the gobernador's emotion rendered him speechless. He thought of the many good English sovereigns with which he had bought his office, and the terrible eclipse of all his importance in the town. Then he pulled himself together: perhaps if the Prefect knew all he would have mercy.

"Your excellency," he said humbly, "I admit that my conduct may seem wanting in dignity; but I beg that you will hear my explanation. I was returning from my interview with you, full of zeal for the duty with which you had entrusted me, when I was seized by four villainous brigands in the hills. They bound me to a tree, and but for the courageous intervention of the young Inglés, who mounted me on his machine and brought me home, I should probably either not be alive to-day, or be a much poorer man than I am. Not that I am rich," he added hastily. "In these circumstances I trust that your excellency will have the goodness to overlook my unintentional delinquency."

"That is impossible, se?or. Your dismissal is registered. It cannot be rescinded. Still, as a special act of grace, in consideration of your zeal, I may authorise your reappointment."

"Your kindness overwhelms me, se?or," said the grateful gobernador, unaware how truly he spoke.

"But there is a condition, se?or," the Prefect continued. "I am hard pressed for funds to carry on my campaign against the brigands. Your zeal is such that you will not refuse to make a small contribution on behalf of the cause--say ￡500. I shall then have the greatest pleasure in reinstating you as gobernador of this town."

Se?or Fagasta writhed. He knew that protest was useless. He must pay, or be disgraced. How much of his contribution would go to support the cause, and how much into the Prefect's own pocket, he could only suspect. The interview soon came to an end, and the Prefect left the house richer by ￡500.

The idlers who had gathered outside cheered him again as he remounted. They expected to see him ride back to San Juan. To their surprise he struck into the rough track northward, which led only to the hacienda of Mr. O'Hagan, to another that lay some few miles beyond, and then to the hills. Evidently the Prefect's visit was of more than usual importance.

Map

Half an hour later the Prefect reined up at the door of Mr. O'Hagan's house. The family were at tea in the patio. On seeing his visitor through the open door, Mr. O'Hagan rose with a muttered exclamation of annoyance, and went to greet him. He was forestalled by Pardo, who had run from the office and was holding the horseman's stirrup. Mr. O'Hagan felt that he could do no other than invite the Prefect to drink a cup of tea, and that gentleman was soon seated in the patio, stirring his cup, and talking to Mrs. O'Hagan in the charming manner for which he had a name among ladies.

"I wish to thank your son, se?or and se?ora," he said presently, "on behalf of the government, for his spirited action yesterday in the cause of law and order. There, my boy," he went on, taking a sol--equivalent to a florin--from his pocket, "accept that as a token of my high consideration."

Tim looked at his father.

"Pardon me, se?or," said Mr. O'Hagan, swallowing his irritation, "your generosity is quite unnecessary. My son needs no reward."

"That is very high-minded," said the Prefect, pocketing the coin. "He will allow me to shake him by the hand and compliment him on his courage and resource?"

Tim gave him a limp hand: it was not so bad as the gobernador's hug and kiss.

"I am glad to be able to number you and your family, se?or," the Prefect continued, "among my declared adherents."

"Don't make a mistake, se?or," said Mr. O'Hagan quickly. "My son had no political motive in his action. It was a mere impulse of humanity."

"The cause of the government is the cause of humanity," said the Prefect impressively. "The brigands represent anarchy. Brigandage is chaos. I am determined to stamp it out. My action is in the true interests of all law-abiding citizens, and especially of such enterprises as yours, which depend on the reign of law for their prosperity."

At this point, after an almost imperceptible sign from Mr. O'Hagan, his wife rose and went with Tim into the drawing-room. The Prefect gallantly opened the door for her, and bowed with extreme deference: he was the pink of politeness. Then he returned to his chair. Mr. O'Hagan guessed what was coming. A few years before this, the Prefect, by bribery and intrigue, had ousted his predecessor in office, one Se?or Mollendo, and had since maintained his position by corruption, and by levying forced loans on such of the wealthy men as had not the courage to resist him. The public taxes were already sufficiently heavy; but the province was so remote from Lima that its prefect was practically a dictator, and appeals to the central government would have been fruitless.

Se?or Mollendo, knowing that his life was hardly safe, had taken refuge in the hilly district in the heart of the province, and was there joined by his partisans, who grew gradually in number as the Prefect's exactions increased. These Mollendists were what we should call a political party in opposition: in Peru the government termed them brigands. It was natural enough that they should include among their number many lawless irreconcilables of the true brigand type; and opposition which would in England take the form of public meetings and demonstrations found expression here in raids and robberies. Mr. O'Hagan had been several times approached indirectly for contributions to the Prefect's war fund, but he had always refused to comply.

"As I was saying, se?or," the Prefect resumed, lighting the cigar Mr. O'Hagan offered, "your security depends on the supremacy of law. That being the case, and my treasury being in temporary need of funds, I have every confidence in inviting you to subscribe a small sum--say ￡1000--to a loan for the more active prosecution of the work of suppressing the brigands which we all have at heart."

"I am a man of few words, se?or," said Mr. O'Hagan. "I have bought my land; I pay my legal taxes, which are heavy enough; and I am entitled to the protection of government. My people are contented; I have had no trouble with them; the people you call brigands have not molested me; if they do I shall claim your protection, but I don't anticipate anything of the kind. I must therefore decline your invitation."

"I beg you not to be hasty, se?or. Your security may yet be rudely shocked: no man can call himself safe while the brigands are at large; and I should be very much distressed if you were to suffer loss through the unfortunate penury of the government. A contribution of ￡1000--merely by way of loan--would probably prevent a much greater loss."

"Not one peseta, se?or," said Mr. O'Hagan bluntly. "I must beg you to believe that that is final."

The Prefect smiled blandly.

"Ah! you Inglésas!" he said.

"I'm an Irishman, se?or: that's worse."

"Well, se?or, I must thank you for your hospitality and take my leave. I wish you every success, and a large share of the sunlight of prosperity. I only regret that by your reluctance to support me you are helping to let loose the forces of lawlessness and giving hostages to brigandage--in fact, breeding worms that will eat into the tissues of industrial enterprise. I bid you good-day, se?or."

Mr. O'Hagan was not impressed by the Prefect's picturesque language. Tall talk is the foible of Peruvians. But after he had seen the last of his visitor, he returned to the house in a state of intense irritation. His wife was awaiting him in the patio.

"He wants to bleed me," he said angrily: "demanded a trifle of ￡1000. This country is a hot-bed of corruption. And I wish that motor-cycle were at the bottom of the sea."

"Why, dear," said Mrs. O'Hagan placably, "what has that to do with it?"

"It gives the fellow an excuse for saying that I'm on the side of the Mollendists. Why do you let me spoil that boy, Rose?"

Mrs. O'Hagan smiled, remembering that she had begged her husband to wait until Tim was a little older before giving him the motor-cycle. Wisely she did not remind him of that, but simply said:

"Don't worry, dear. Things mayn't be so bad as you think.... And Tim is not really spoilt, you know."