Works of Jules Verne/The Pearl of Lima/Chapter 6
CHAPTER VI
THE JEW'S SECRET
As soon as he was restored to health, André Certa, still believing in the death of Martin Paz, began to hurry on his marriage. His intended bride continued to regard him with the most complete indifference; but this did not occasion him any concern; he regarded her solely as a costly article for which he had to pay the handsome price of 100,000 piastres.
It must be alleged that Andre had no confidence at all in the Jew, and he was right in entertaining mistrust. If the contract had been void of honesty, so were the contractors void of principle. Accordingly André was now anxious for a private interview with Samuel, and for that purpose took him for a day to Chorillos, where he also hoped to have the chance of trying a little gambling before his marriage.
The gaming-tables had been opened at the baths a few days after the marquis's arrival, and ever since they had been the means of keeping up an incessant traffic along the road to Lima. Some came on foot, who returned with the luxury of a carriage; while others came only fairly to exhaust the remnant of a shattered fortune.
Neither Don Vegal nor Martin Paz took any share in the play; the restlessness of the young Indian was caused by a far nobler game. After their evening walks Martin would take leave of the marquis, and, going to his own room, would lounge with his elbows on the window-sill, and spend hours in silent reverie.
The marquis ever and again recalled to his recollection the young girl whom he had seen praying in the Catholic church, but he did not venture to entrust the secret to his guest, although he took occasion little by little to acquaint him with the essentials of the Christian faith. He hesitated to allude to the girl, because he was fearful of reviving the very interest that he was anxious to allay. It was necessary that the Indian should renounce every hope of obtaining the hand of Sarah. Only let the police, he thought, abandon their search for Martin, and his protector did not doubt that in the course of time he could procure him an introduction into the first circle of Peruvian society.
But Martin Paz would not surrender himself to despair without assuring himself of the hopelessness of his chance. He resolved at all risks to know the actual destiny of the young Jewess. Screened from suspicion by his Spanish attire, he thought he might enter into the gambling-halls, and so hear the conversation of those who habitually frequented them. Andre Certa was a person of sufficient note to make his marriage, as it drew near, a topic of considerable talk.
One evening, therefore, instead of turning his steps towards the seashore, the Indian bent his way towards the high cliffs on which the principal houses in Chorillos were built, and entered a house that was approached by a large flight of stone steps. This was the gambling-house.
The day had been trying to more than one of the people of Lima. Some of them, worn out by the fatigue of the preceding night, were reposing on the ground, covered with their ponchos. The other gamblers were seated before a large table covered with green baize, and divided into four compartments by two lines that cut each other at right angles in the middle. Each of these compartments was marked with either the letter A., or the letter S., the initial letters of the Spanish words "asar," and "suerte," hazard and chance. The players put their money upon whichever of the letters they chose, a croupier held the stakes, and threw two dice upon the table, and the combined readings of the points determined whether A. or S. was the winner.
At this particular moment there was a general animation, and one half-breed could be noticed persevering against illluck with a feverish determination.
"Two thousand piastres!" he exclaimed.
The croupier shook the dice, and a muttered curse fell from the player's lips.
"Four thousand piastres!" he said.
But again he lost.
Protected by the shadows of the hall, Martin Paz caught a glimpse of the player's face. It was André Certa, and close beside him stood the Jew Samuel. "There," said Samuel, "that's play enough. The luck is all against you to-day."
"Curse the luck!" said André impetuously," it does not matter to you."
The Jew whispered in the young man's ear: "It may not matter to me; but to you it matters much, and you should desist from the practice for the few days before your marriage."
"Eight thousand piastres!" was the only reply that André made, as he laid his stake upon the S.
"A. wins," was the immediate decision of the dice, and the half-breed's blaspheming oaths were hardly covered by the croupier's summons, "Make your game, gentlemen; make your game."
Taking a roll of notes from his pocket, André was on the point of hazarding a still larger sum; he was placing them on the table, and the croupier was already shaking his dice box.
The Jew bent his head again towards the ear of André, and said: "You will have nothing left to-night to close our bargain. Everything will then be broken off."
André shrugged his shoulders, and uttered an ejaculation of rage; but he took up the money he had staked, and went out of the room.
"You may go on now," said Samuel, addressing the croupier; "you may ruin that gentleman if you like, but not until after his marriage."
The croupier bowed obsequiously. The Jew was the originator and proprietor of the gaming-house. Wherever there was gold to be won, he was sure to be found.
Following the young half-breed out, he overtook him upon the stone steps, and telling him that he had matters of great importance to communicate to him, asked where they might converse in uninterrupted security.
"Where you please!" said André, with abrupt discourtesy.
"Let me advise you, señor," said Samuel, "not to let your bad temper interfere with your future advantage. My secret is not to be revealed within the best closed doors; no, nor yet in the most secluded wilderness. It is a secret for which you think you are paying me a good high price, but let me assure you it is well worth keeping."
While they were thus talking they came to the spot where the bathing-houses were erected; but they had no idea how they were being overlooked and overheard by Martin Paz, who had glided after them like a serpent.
"Let us take a boat," said Andre, "and put out to sea." He then loosened a light boat from its moorings on the shore, and flinging some money to its owner, he made Samuel get in, and pushed off into the open water.
No sooner did Martin Paz observe the boat leave the shore than, concealed by a projecting rock, he hastily undressed, and taking the precaution to fasten on his belt, to which he attached a poignard, he swam with all his strength in the same direction. By this time the sun had sunk below the horizon, and the obscurity of twilight enveloped both sea and sky.
One thing Martin had forgotten. He did not call to mind that the waters of these latitudes were infested with sharks of the most ferocious kind; but, plunging recklessly into the fatal flood, he made good his way till he was near enough to the boat just to catch the voices of the two as they spoke.
"But what proof am I to give the father of the girl's identity?" were the first words he heard André say.
"Proof! why, you must detail the circumstances under which he lost his child."
"What were the circumstances?" asked Andre.
"Listen, and you shall hear," replied the Jew.
Martin Paz could only by an effort keep his position within ear-shot of the boat, and what he heard he failed to comprehend.
The Jew proceeded to say: "It was in Chili, at Concepcion, that Sarah's father lived. He is a nobleman that you already know, and his wealth was according to his rank. He was obliged, by business of a pressing nature, to come to Lima. He came alone, leaving behind his wife and a little daughter only five months old. In every respect the climate of Peru was agreeable to him, and he sent for his lady to join him there. Bringing with her only a few trusty servants, she embarked on the San Jose, of Valparaiso. On that ship it chanced that I was myself a passenger. The San Jose was bound to put into harbor at Lima; but just off the point of Juan Fernandez she was exposed to a terrific hurricane, which disabled her, and laid her upon her beam-ends. The whole of the crew, and the passengers, betook themselves to the long-boat. The marchioness refused to enter the boat, but clasping her infant in her arms, resolved at all hazards to remain where she was. I remained with her. The long-boat made off, but before it had proceeded a hundred fathoms from the ship, it was swallowed up in the angry waters. The two of us remained alone. The storm came on with increasing fury. As I had not my property on board, I was not reduced to a condition of absolute despair. The San José, with five feet of water in her hold, drove upon the rocks and was dashed to pieces. The lady with her child was thrown into the sea. It was my fortune to be able to rescue the little girl, although I saw the mother perish before my eyes; and with the child in my arms, I contrived to reach the shore."
"Are these details all correct?" asked André.
"Yes, to the most minute particular. The father will not deny them. Ah! I did a good day's work when I earned that 100,000 piastres which you are going to pay me."
Perplexed beyond measure, Martin could not suppress the ejaculation, "What does all this mean?"
"Here," said Andre, "here is your money."
"Thanks!" replied Samuel, eagerly pocketing the cash, "and here is your receipt. I guarantee to return you twice the sum if you do not find yourself a member of one of the noblest Spanish families."
Martin Paz was more bewildered than ever. He could give no meaning to what he heard. The boat began to move in his direction, and he was about to dive below the water to elude observation when he saw a huge black mass rolling onwards towards him.
It was a tintorea, a shark of the most voracious kind. Although the Indian dived immediately, he was soon obliged to come to the surface to take breath. As he rose he was struck by the tail of the shark, and felt the slimy scales against his breast. In order to grasp its prey, the animal, according to its habit, rolled over on its back, and displayed its monstrous jaw armed with its triple rows of teeth; but in an instant, Martin, catching a glimpse of its white belly, made a desperate effort, and plunged in his dagger to its very hilt.
The waves around him were all red with blood; he made another dive, and, rising about ten fathoms away, had entirely lost sight of the boat. A few more strokes, and he regained the shore, hardly conscious of the hairbreadth escape he had had from the most terrible of deaths.
Next day he was gone from Chorillos, and Don Vegal, harassed by misgivings, hurried with all speed to Lima, in the hope of finding him.