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Page 25
"The scoundrel," burst out Santos impulsively.
"You are not frightened?" Gordon asked quickly.
"On the contrary, I expected something of the sort soon, but not
from this man. I can meet him!"
"Good," exclaimed the Captain.
There was that in his voice that caused her to look at him quickly.
Santos had noticed it, too, and a sullen scowl spread over his face.
Intuitively Constance read the two men before her. She had fled from
one problem to a greater. Both Santos and Gordon were in love with
her.
In the whirl of this new discovery, two things alone crowded all
else from her mind. She must contrive to hold off Drummond until
that part of the expedition which was ready could be got off. And
she must play the jealous rivals against each other with such
finesse as to keep them separated.
Far into the night after she had left the Junta she debated the
question with herself. She could not turn back now. The attentions
of Gordon were offensive. Yet she could have given no other reason
than that she liked Santos the better. Yet what was Santos to her,
after all? Once she had let herself go too far. She must be careful
in this case. She must not allow this to be other than a business
proposition.
The crisis for her came sooner than she had anticipated. It was the
day after the visit of Drummond. She was waiting at the Junta alone
for Santos when Gordon entered. She had dreaded just that. There was
no mistaking the man.
"Mrs. Dunlap," began Gordon bending down close over her.
She was almost trembling with emotion, and he saw it.
"You can read me like a book," he hurried on, mistaking her
feelings. "I can see that you know how much I think of you--how much
I--"
"No, no," she implored. "Don't talk to me that way. Remember--there
is work to do. After it is over--then--"
"Work!" he scorned. "What is the whole of Central America to me
compared to you?"
"Captain Gordon!" she stood facing him. "You must not. Listen to me.
You do not know--I--please, please leave me. Let me think."
She did not dare accept him; she could not reject him. It seemed
that with an almost superhuman effort Gordon gripped himself. But he
did not go.
Constance was distracted, what if Santos with his fiery nature
should find Gordon talking to her alone? She must temporize.
"One week," she murmured. "When the Arroyo sails--that night--I
shall give you my answer."
Gordon shot a peculiar glance at her--half doubt, half surprise. But
she was gone. As she hurried unexpectedly out of the Junta she
fancied she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. It must have been
Drummond. Every move at the Junta was being watched.
At the boarding house all night she waited. She must see Santos.
Plan after plan whirled through her brain as the hours dragged.
It was not until almost morning that, seeing a light, he tapped
cautiously at her door.
"You were not at the Junta to-night," he remarked.
There was something of jealousy in the tone.
"No. There is something I wanted to say to you where we should not
be interrupted," she answered as he sat down.
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