The Gadfly Part 45

"Then--yes."

Martini turned away and went on pacing up and down. Presently he stopped again.

"I want to ask you another question. If you don't choose to answer it, you needn't, of course; but if you do answer, then answer honestly. Are you in love with her?"

The Gadfly deliberately knocked the ash from his cigar and went on smoking in silence.

"That means--that you don't choose to answer?"

"No; only that I think I have a right to know why you ask me that."

"Why? Good G.o.d, man, can't you see why?"

"Ah!" He laid down his cigar and looked steadily at Martini. "Yes," he said at last, slowly and softly. "I am in love with her. But you needn't think I am going to make love to her, or worry about it. I am only going to----"

His voice died away in a strange, faint whisper. Martini came a step nearer.

"Only going--to----"

"To die."

He was staring straight before him with a cold, fixed look, as if he were dead already. When he spoke again his voice was curiously lifeless and even.

"You needn't worry her about it beforehand," he said; "but there's not the ghost of a chance for me. It's dangerous for everyone; that she knows as well as I do; but the smugglers will do their best to prevent her getting taken. They are good fellows, though they are a bit rough.

As for me, the rope is round my neck, and when I cross the frontier I pull the noose."

"Rivarez, what do you mean? Of course it's dangerous, and particularly so for you; I understand that; but you have often crossed the frontier before and always been successful."

"Yes, and this time I shall fail."

"But why? How can you know?"

The Gadfly smiled drearily.

"Do you remember the German legend of the man that died when he met his own Double? No? It appeared to him at night in a lonely place, wringing its hands in despair. Well, I met mine the last time I was in the hills; and when I cross the frontier again I shan't come back."

Martini came up to him and put a hand on the back of his chair.

"Listen, Rivarez; I don't understand a word of all this metaphysical stuff, but I do understand one thing: If you feel about it that way, you are not in a fit state to go. The surest way to get taken is to go with a conviction that you will be taken. You must be ill, or out of sorts somehow, to get maggots of that kind into your head. Suppose I go instead of you? I can do any practical work there is to be done, and you can send a message to your men, explaining------"

"And let you get killed instead? That would be very clever."

"Oh, I'm not likely to get killed! They don't know me as they do you.

And, besides, even if I did------"

He stopped, and the Gadfly looked up with a slow, inquiring gaze.

Martini's hand dropped by his side.

"She very likely wouldn't miss me as much as she would you," he said in his most matter-of-fact voice. "And then, besides, Rivarez, this is public business, and we have to look at it from the point of view of utility--the greatest good of the greatest number. Your 'final value'---isn't that what the economists call it?--is higher than mine; I have brains enough to see that, though I haven't any cause to be particularly fond of you. You are a bigger man than I am; I'm not sure that you are a better one, but there's more of you, and your death would be a greater loss than mine."

From the way he spoke he might have been discussing the value of shares on the Exchange. The Gadfly looked up, s.h.i.+vering as if with cold.

"Would you have me wait till my grave opens of itself to swallow me up?

"If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride----

Look here, Martini, you and I are talking nonsense."

"You are, certainly," said Martini gruffly.

"Yes, and so are you. For Heaven's sake, don't let's go in for romantic self-sacrifice, like Don Carlos and Marquis Posa. This is the nineteenth century; and if it's my business to die, I have got to do it."

"And if it's my business to live, I have got to do that, I suppose.

You're the lucky one, Rivarez."

"Yes," the Gadfly a.s.sented laconically; "I was always lucky."

They smoked in silence for a few minutes, and then began to talk of business details. When Gemma came up to call them to dinner, neither of them betrayed in face or manner that their conversation had been in any way unusual. After dinner they sat discussing plans and making necessary arrangements till eleven o'clock, when Martini rose and took his hat.

"I will go home and fetch that riding-cloak of mine, Rivarez. I think you will be less recognizable in it than in your light suit. I want to reconnoitre a bit, too, and make sure there are no spies about before we start."

"Are you coming with me to the barrier?"

"Yes; it's safer to have four eyes than two in case of anyone following you. I'll be back by twelve. Be sure you don't start without me. I had better take the key, Gemma, so as not to wake anyone by ringing."

She raised her eyes to his face as he took the keys. She understood that he had invented a pretext in order to leave her alone with the Gadfly.

"You and I will talk to-morrow," she said. "We shall have time in the morning, when my packing is finished."

"Oh, yes! Plenty of time. There are two or three little things I want to ask you about, Rivarez; but we can talk them over on our way to the barrier. You had better send Katie to bed, Gemma; and be as quiet as you can, both of you. Good-bye till twelve, then."

He went away with a little nod and smile, banging the door after him to let the neighbours hear that Signora Bolla's visitor was gone.

Gemma went out into the kitchen to say good-night to Katie, and came back with black coffee on a tray.

"Would you like to lie down a bit?" she said. "You won't have any sleep the rest of the night."

"Oh, dear no! I shall sleep at San Lorenzo while the men are getting my disguise ready."

"Then have some coffee. Wait a minute; I will get you out the biscuits."

As she knelt down at the side-board he suddenly stooped over her shoulder.

"Whatever have you got there? Chocolate creams and English toffee! Why, this is l-luxury for a king!"

She looked up, smiling faintly at his enthusiastic tone.