roads of destiny-第12节

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e。　Beauty　and　epaulettes　and　curly　moustaches　and　Grecian　profiles　in　other　men　were　never　in　my　way。　When　people　first　look　at　me　they　shudder。　Unless　they　are　in　the　last　stages　of　/angina　pectoris/　they　are　mine　in　ten　minutes　after　I　begin　to　talk。　Women　and　menI　win　'em　as　they　come。　Now；　you　wouldn't　think　women　would　fancy　a　man　with　a　face　like　mine；　would　you？〃

〃Oh；　yes；　Mr。　Tate；〃　said　I。　〃History　is　bright　and　fiction　dull　with　homely　men　who　have　charmed　women。　There　seems〃

〃Pardon　me；〃　interrupted　Judson　Tate；　〃but　you　don't　quite　understand。　You　have　yet　to　hear　my　story。

〃Fergus　McMahan　was　a　friend　of　mine　in　the　capital。　For　a　handsome　man　I'll　admit　he　was　the　duty…free　merchandise。　He　had　blond　curls　and　laughing　blue　eyes　and　was　featured　regular。　They　said　he　was　a　ringer　for　the　statue　they　call　Herr　Mees；　the　god　of　speech　and　eloquence　resting　in　some　museum　at　Rome。　Some　German　anarchist；　I　suppose。　They　are　always　resting　and　talking。

〃But　Fergus　was　no　talker。　He　was　brought　up　with　the　idea　that　to　be　beautiful　was　to　make　good。　His　conversation　was　about　as　edifying　as　listening　to　a　leak　dropping　in　a　tin　dish…pan　at　the　head　of　the　bed　when　you　want　to　go　to　sleep。　But　he　and　me　got　to　be　friendsmaybe　because　we　was　so　opposite；　don't　you　think？　Looking　at　the　Hallowe'en　mask　that　I　call　my　face　when　I'm　shaving　seemed　to　give　Fergus　pleasure；　and　I'm　sure　that　whenever　I　heard　the　feeble　output　of　throat　noises　that　he　called　conversation　I　felt　contented　to　be　a　gargoyle　with　a　silver　tongue。

〃One　time　I　found　it　necessary　to　go　down　to　this　coast　town　of　Oratama　to　straighten　out　a　lot　of　political　unrest　and　chop　off　a　few　heads　in　the　customs　and　military　departments。　Fergus；　who　owned　the　ice　and　sulphur…match　concessions　of　the　republic；　says　he'll　keep　me　company。

〃So；　in　a　jangle　of　mule…train　bells；　we　gallops　into　Oratama；　and　the　town　belonged　to　us　as　much　as　Long　Island　Sound　doesn't　belong　to　Japan　when　T。　R。　is　at　Oyster　Bay。　I　say　us；　but　I　mean　me。　Everybody　for　four　nations；　two　oceans；　one　bay　and　isthmus；　and　five　archipelagoes　around　had　heard　of　Judson　Tate。　Gentleman　adventurer；　they　called　me。　I　had　been　written　up　in　five　columns　of　the　yellow　journals；　40；000　words　（with　marginal　decorations）　in　a　monthly　magazine；　and　a　stickful　on　the　twelfth　page　of　the　New　York　/Times/。　If　the　beauty　of　Fergus　McMahan　gained　any　part　of　our　reception　in　Oratama；　I'll　eat　the　price…tag　in　my　Panama。　It　was　me　that　they　hung　out　paper　flowers　and　palm　branches　for。　I　am　not　a　jealous　man；　I　am　stating　facts。　The　people　were　Nebuchadnezzars；　they　bit　the　grass　before　me；　there　was　no　dust　in　the　town　for　them　to　bite。　They　bowed　down　to　Judson　Tate。　They　knew　that　I　was　the　power　behind　Sancho　Benavides。　A　word　from　me　was　more　to　them　than　a　whole　deckle…edged　library　from　East　Aurora　in　sectional　bookcases　was　from　anybody　else。　And　yet　there　are　people　who　spend　hours　fixing　their　facesrubbing　in　cold　cream　and　massaging　the　muscles　（always　toward　the　eyes）　and　taking　in　the　slack　with　tincture　of　benzoin　and　electrolyzing　moles　to　what　end？　Looking　handsome。　Oh；　what　a　mistake！　It's　the　larynx　that　the　beauty　doctors　ought　to　work　on。　It's　words　more　than　warts；　talk　more　than　talcum；　palaver　more　than　powder；　blarney　more　than　bloom　that　countsthe　phonograph　instead　of　the　photograph。　But　I　was　going　to　tell　you。

〃The　local　Astors　put　me　and　Fergus　up　at　the　Centipede　Club；　a　frame　building　built　on　posts　sunk　in　the　surf。　The　tide's　only　nine　inches。　The　Little　Big　High　Low　Jack…in…the…game　of　the　town　came　around　and　kowtowed。　Oh；　it　wasn't　to　Herr　Mees。　They　had　heard　about　Judson　Tate。

〃One　afternoon　me　and　Fergus　McMahan　was　sitting　on　the　seaward　gallery　of　the　Centipede；　drinking　iced　rum　and　talking。

〃'Judson；'　says　Fergus；　'there's　an　angel　in　Oratama。'

〃'So　long；'　says　I；　'as　it　ain't　Gabriel；　why　talk　as　if　you　had　heard　a　trump　blow？'

〃'It's　the　Senorita　Anabela　Zamora；'　says　Fergus。　'She'sshe'sshe's　as　lovely　asas　hell！'

〃'Bravo！'　says　I；　laughing　heartily。　'You　have　a　true　lover's　eloquence　to　paint　the　beauties　of　your　inamorata。　You　remind　me；'　says　I；　'of　Faust's　wooing　of　Margueritethat　is；　if　he　wooed　her　after　he　went　down　the　trap…door　of　the　stage。'

〃'Judson；'　says　Fergus；　'you　know　you　are　as　beautiless　as　a　rhinoceros。　You　can't　have　any　interest　in　women。　I'm　awfully　gone　in　Miss　Anabela。　And　that's　why　I'm　telling　you。'

〃'Oh；　/seguramente/；'　says　I。　'I　know　I　have　a　front　elevation　like　an　Aztec　god　that　guards　a　buried　treasure　that　never　did　exist　in　Jefferson　County；　Yucatan。　But　there　are　compensations。　For　instance；　I　am　It　in　this　country　as　far　as　the　eye　can　reach；　and　then　a　few　perches　and　poles。　And　again；'　says　I；　'when　I　engage　people　in　a　set…　to　of　oral；　vocal；　and　laryngeal　utterances；　I　do　not　usually　confine　my　side　of　the　argument　to　what　may　be　likened　to　a　cheap　phonographic　reproduction　of　the　ravings　of　a　jellyfish。'

〃'Oh；　I　know；'　says　Fergus；　amiable；　'that　I'm　not　handy　at　small　talk。　Or　large；　either。　That's　why　I'm　telling　you。　I　want　you　to　help　me。'

〃'How　can　I　do　it？'　I　asked。

〃'I　have　subsidized；'　says　Fergus；　'the　services　of　Senorita　Anabela's　duenna；　whose　name　is　Francesca。　You　have　a　reputation　in　this　country；　Judson；'　says　Fergus；　'of　being　a　great　man　and　a　hero。'

〃'I　have；'　says　I。　'And　I　deserve　it。'

〃'And　I；'　says　Fergus；　'am　the　best…looking　man　between　the　arctic　circle　and　antarctic　ice　pack。'

〃'With　limitations；'　says　I；　'as　to　physiognomy　and　geography；　I　freely　concede　you　to　be。'

〃'Between　the　two　of　us；'　says　Fergus；　'we　ought　to　land　the　Senorita　Anabela　Zamora。　The　lady；　as　you　know；　is　of　an　old　Spanish　family；　and　further　than　looking　at　her　driving　in　the　family　/carruaje/　of　afternoons　around　the　plaza；　or　catching　a　glimpse　of　her　through　a　barred　window　of　evenings；　she　is　as　unapproachable　as　a　star。'

〃'Land　her　for　which　one　of　us？'　says　I。

〃'For　me　of　course；'　says　Fergus。　'You've　never　seen　her。　Now；　I've　had　Francesca　point　me　out　to　her　as　being　you　on　several　occasions。　When　she　sees　me　on　the　plaza；　she　thinks　she's　looking　at　Don　Judson　Tate；　the　greatest　hero；　statesman；　and　romantic　figure　in　the　country。　With　your　reputation　and　my　looks　combined　in　one　man；　how　can　she　resist　him？　She's　heard　all　about　your　thrilling　history；　of　course。　And　she's　seen　me。　Can　any　woman　want　more？'　asks　Fergus　McMahan。

〃'Can　she　do　with　less？'　I　ask。　'How　can　we　separate　our　mutual　attractions；　and　how　shall　we　apportion　the　proceeds？'

〃Then　Fergus　tells　me　his　scheme。

〃The　house　of　the　alcalde；　Don　Luis　Zamora；　he　says；　has　a　/patio/；　of　coursea　kind　of　inner　courtyard　opening　from　the　street。　In　an　angle　of　it　is　his　daughter's　windowas　dark　a　place　as　you　could　find。　And　what　do　you　think　he　wants　me　to　do？　Why；　knowing　my　freedom；　charm；　and　skilfulness　of　tongue；　he　proposes　that　I　go　into　the　/patio/　at　midnight；　when　the　hobgoblin　face　of　me　cannot　be　seen；　and　make　love　to　her　for　himfor　the　pretty　man　that　she　has　seen　on　the　plaza；　thinking　him　to　be　Don　Judson　Tate。

〃Why　shouldn't　I　do　it　for　himfor　my　friend；　Fergus　McMahan？　For　him　to　ask　me　was　a　complimentan　acknowledgment　of　his　own　shortcomings。

〃'You　little；　lily　white；　fine…haired；　highly　polished　piece　of　dumb　sculpture；'　says　I；　'I'll　help　you。　Make　your　arrangements　and　get　me　in　the　dark　outside　her　window　and　my　stream　of　conversation　opened　up　with　the　moonlight　tremolo　stop　turned　on；　and　she's　yours。'

〃'Keep　your　face　hid；　Jud；'　says　Fergus。　'For　heaven's　sake；　keep　your　face　hid。　I'm　a　friend　of　yours　in　all　kinds　of　sentiment；　but　this　is　a　business　deal。　If　I　could　talk　I　wouldn't　ask　you。　But　seeing　me　and　listening　to　you　I　don't　see　why　she　can't　be　landed。'

〃'By　you？'　says　I。

〃'By　me；'　says　Fergus。

Well；　Fergus　and　the　duenna；　Francesca；　attended　to　the　details。　And　one　night　they　fetched　me　a　long　black　cloak　with　a　high　collar；　and　led　me　to　the　house　at　midnight。　I　stood　by　the　window　in　the　/patio/　until　I　heard　a　voice　as　soft　and　sweet　as　an　angel's　whisper　on　the　other　side　of　the　bars。　I　could　see　only　a　faint；　white　clad　shape　inside；　and；　true　to　Fergus；　I　pulled　the　collar　of　my　cloak　high　up；　for　it　was　July　in　the　wet　seasons；　and　the　nights　were　chilly。　And；　smothering　a　laugh　as　I　thought　of　the　tongue…tied　Fergus；　I　began　to　talk。

〃Well；　sir；　I　talked　an　hour　at　the　Senorita　Anabela。　I　say　'at'　because　it　was　not　'with。'　Now　and　then　she　would　say：　'Oh；　Senor；'　or　'Now；　ain't　you　foolin'？'　or　'I　know　you　don't　mean　that；'　and　such　things　as　women　will　when　they　are　being　rightly　courted。　Both　of　us　knew　English　and　Spanish；　so　in　two　languages　I　tried　to　win　the　heart　of　the　lady　for　my　friend　Fergus。　But　for　the　bars　to　the　window　I　could　have　done　it　in　one。　At　the　end　of　the　hour　she　dismissed　me　and　gave　me　a　big；　red　rose。　I　handed　it　over　to　Fergus　when　I　got　home。

〃For　three　weeks　every　third　or　fourth　night　I　impersonated　my　friend　in　the　/patio/　at　the　window　of　Senorita　Anabela。　At　last　she　admitted　that　her　heart　was　mine；　and　spoke　of　having　seen　me　every　afternoon　when　she　drove　in　the　plaza。　It　was　Fe