A Fascinating Traitor Part 21

The jewel merchant's eyes gleamed with a smoldering fire. "Johnstone Sahib will not leave Delhi. It is in the stars! He has too much here to leave. There are many old ties which bind. No, he will not go like a thief in the night." Hawke was surprised at the old rascal's evident emotion.

"Then tell me what you think about the disappearance of these women,"

said Hawke, watching him keenly.

"I have seen all my friends in the station, even the mail clerks, telegraph men, and all," began Ram Lal. "A train 'on government service'--a special--came in that night from Allahabad at ten o'clock.

Then two small trains were kept in waiting for some hours; one left for Simla before daylight, and the other drew out for Allahabad. There was a crowd of ladies, officers' ladies, and some children and servants in the waiting-room. They like to travel at night in the cool shade. No one knew them. Now, at Allahabad, the east-bound train could branch off either for Calcutta, Madras, or Bombay."

"So you know not which way these women fled?" The old merchant seemed absolutely at sea. As Hawke shook his head the story was soon finished.

"My men at the marble house tell me that a strange young man arrived at ten o'clock. He was admitted by Simpson, the private man of Johnstone Sahib. The Swiss woman talked with him alone a half hour in the library, and then Johnstone's daughter came down there, but only for a few moments. My men watched him writing and reading papers in the library; then they all went away."

"That is all. I slipped into the house when Simpson went away next day.

He often goes out to drink secretly, and he has a pretty Eurasian friend or two, besides, down in the quarter." Ram Lal winked significantly. "I went all over the upper part of the house myself. The women's rooms were left just as if they had gone out for a drive along the Jumna. If they took anything it was only a few hand parcels. Now you know all that I know. No one ever saw the strange man before. And these people are gone for good, that is all. Go now to the Mem-Sahib at the Silver Bungalow. I fear her. But tell me what I must say to her." The old man was evidently in a mortal fear. "There is that French devil--that old soldier. He is a fighting devil, that one, and the woman a tiger. The lady herself is a tiger of tigers!"

"Say nothing, Ram Lal," soothingly said Hawke. "Leave it all to me. I see it. Old Johnstone has sent the girl to the hills to keep her away from the young fellows who will crowd the house, while this General Abercromby is here. There'll be drink and cards, and G.o.d knows what else."

"I know," grinned Ram Lal. "I knew old Johnstone in the old days, a man-eater, a woman-killer, a cold-hearted devil, too! What does he do with this General?" The jewel merchant's eyes blazed.

"Oh! Buying his new t.i.tle with some official humbug or another. I don't know. Perhaps he is really settling his accounts," laughed Hawke.

"I have a little account of my own to settle with him! I will see him at once! He, too, may slip away and follow his girl to the hills," quietly said Ram Lal. "I know his past. He is never to be trusted--not for a moment--as long as he is alive!" Alan Hawke stared in wonder at Ram Lal, who humbly salaamed, when he closed:

"See the woman over there--come back, and tell me what I must do or say.

You and I are comrades," the jewel seller leeringly said, "and we must lie together! All the world are liars-and half of the world lives by lying." with which sage remark the old curio seller betook himself to his narghileh.

In a half an hour, Major Alan Hawke was wandering through the garden of the Silver Bungalow with Alixe Delavigne at his side. Behind them, at a discreet distance, sauntered Jules Victor, his dark eyes most intently fixed upon the promenaders. Madame Delavigne was pleased to be cheerfully buoyant. She had silently listened to Hawke's recital of the probable causes of General Abercromby's visit. "I could see that Johnstone evidently wished to occupy us both at Allahabad. Your conduct was discretion itself! Have you seen him yet? Or the ladies?" She eyed her listener keenly.

"No, Madame," frankly said Hawke. "There is all manner of official junketing on here now. I am not, of course, to be officially included, as I am not on the staff of either the visiting or commanding general. I must wait until I am invited--if I am!" he hesitatingly said. "You know that my rank is--to say the least--shadowy!" The lady pa.s.sed over this semi-confession in silence.

"It is not like Johnstone to let Nadine meet all the gay coterie which will fill the great halls," mused Madame Delavigne. "I suppose that the dear child will have a week of 'marble prison' in her rooms, with only the governess. I think I shall let General Abercrornby leave before I call. What do you advise? Johnstone has always ignored the ladies of Delhi!"

"I really am powerless to counsel you," said Major Hawke gravely, "as I am outside of the circle. I would watch this man keenly. He bears you no good will. And now--what shall I do? Did your business at Calcutta bring me the summons to action?" There was no undue eagerness in his voice. He was gliding into a safe position for the future eclairciss.e.m.e.nt.

"Not yet. But it will come! It will come--as soon as this General goes.

For I now will demand the right to drop Berthe Louison, and to be my own self. To be Alixe Delavigne to one bright, loving human soul only, in this land of arid solitudes, of peopled wastes. The land of the worn, scarred human nature, which, blind, creedless, and hopeless, staggers along under the burden of misery under the menace of the British bayonet."

"When do you leave it?" quietly asked the cautious Major.

"When my work is done!" the resolute woman replied. "I am here for peace or war! We have only crossed swords! I do not trust this man a moment!

He is capable of any foul deed! Now, you must keenly watch the clubs, the social life. Find out all you can! Come to me here every night at ten. If I suddenly need you, then I will send Ram Lal!"

"By day or night I am ready!" gravely said Major Hawke. "I do not like to intrude upon you," he hesitatingly said.

"You will win your spurs yet in my service!" said Alixe. "The real struggle is to come yet. I am only knocking at the door of Nadine's heart. And the old nabob is but half conquered."

Major Hawke, with a bow, retired and wended his way to the Club, where he spent an hour in preparing a careful letter to Euphrosyne Delande.

It was a careful doc.u.ment, intended to prudently open communication with Justine through the Halls of Learning on the Rue du Rhone, Geneva, but a little sealed inclosure to Justine was the grain of gold in all the complimentary chaff. "Her own heart, poor girl, will tell her what to do," said Hawke, as he departed and registered the letter himself.

The pa.s.sing cortege of General Abercromby, returning the visit of the local chief, excited Hawke's attention. He caught a glimpse of the silver-haired millionaire whom two widely different natures had denounced that day as "being capable of anything."

"And so old Ram Lal has it 'in for him,' too! What can he mean?"

With a sudden impulse Major Hawke drove back and made a formal call upon the ladies at the Marble House. He was astounded when old Simpson, with a grudging welcome, openly announced that the ladies were permanently not at home. "Gone to the hills for a month or two," curtly replied the veteran servant, and then, on a silver tray, the butler decorously handed to Major Alan Hawke a sealed letter. "I was to seek you out at the Club, sir, as this letter is important. I take the liberty to give it to you now. It was the master's orders: 'That I give it into your own hands!'"

Major Alan Hawke's face darkened as he read the curt lines penned by Hugh Johnstone himself. With a smothered curse he thrust the letter in his pocket. "Both of them are trying to keep me in the dark, I'll let Madame Berthe Louison run her own head into the trap. Then, when she pays, I will talk, but not till then." The careful lines stated that for a week the writer would be greatly engrossed with private matters, and at home to no one. "I will send for you as soon as I am able to see you, upon some new business matters."

The last clause was significant enough. "He prepared this to give me a social knockout!" coolly said the renegade. "All right! But wait!

By Gad! I fancy I'll take a cool revenge in joining Ram Lal and Berthe Louison. Suppose that the old duffer were put out of the way? Could I then count on Justine, and my wary employer? There is a storm brewing, and breakers ahead. I must soon get my 'retaining fee' from the lady of the Silver Bungalow or I may lose it forever! And I will let her uncover the empty bird's nest herself! She must not suspect me!" And yet the curt letter of the old civilian wounded him to the quick. "What does this jugglery mean? He ought to fear me, by this time, just a little! He intends to crush Berthe Louison by some foul blow, and then will he dare to begin on me? I will double forces with Ram Lal. That's my only alliance!" The Major's soul was up in arms.

When the splendid reception at General Willoughby's was over, Hugh Johnstone cautiously approached Major Hardwicke. "I am just told that General Abercromby will remain and dine 'en famille' with his old brother in arms. Will you drive with me to my house? I have something of a private nature to say to you. I can give you a seat in my carriage."

Major Hardwicke bowed and, obtaining his conge, sat in expectant waiting until the two men were comfortably seated in Johnstone's snuggery in the deserted mansion. They talked indifferently over Abercromby's arrival till Simpson announced dinner.

"I would like you to dine with me, Major Hardwicke," said the old Commissioner, "for I have something now to say to you." He rang a silver bell, and, whispering to Simpson, faced his young visitor, who had bowed in acceptance. The butler returned in a few moments with a superb Indian saber, sheathed in gold, and shimmering with splendid jewels. He stood, mute, as Johnstone gravely said: "I learned from Simpson, on my return from Calcutta, of your prompt gallantry in aiding my daughter in her hour of peril." He continued, "Simpson alone, was left to tell me, as I have sent the child away to the hills for a couple of months. For reasons of my own, I do not care to have a motherless girl exposed to the indiscriminate hubbub of merely official society. The young lady will probably not remain in India. I therefore sent them all away before this official visit, which would have forced a child, almost yet a school girl, out into the glare of this local junketing," he said with feeling.

"Take this saber, Major. It was given up by Mir-zah Shah, a Warrior Prince, in old days, so the legend goes. It is the sword of a king's son. It will recall your own saber play so neatly conceived, and, as a personal reminder, wear this for me! It is a rare diamond, which I have treasured for many years. And its old Hindustanee name was 'Bringer of Prosperity.'" Hardwicke bowed, and murmured his thanks.

The nabob slipped a superb ring from his finger, and then, as if he had relieved his mind forever of a painful duty, dismissed the subject, almost feverishly entertaining his solitary guest at the splendid feast which had been prepared for General Abercromby. It was late when the strangely a.s.sorted convives separated. "I will now send Simpson home with you, in my carriage," solicitously remarked Johnstone, as the hour grew late. "There is a prince's ransom on that sword--and, you did not bring your n.o.ble charger! You must treat him well for my sake--for my daughter's sake!"

"Will Miss Johnstone return soon?" said the heart-hungry lover, catching at this last straw.

"It is undetermined! I may send them home in a few months. But, if I have any little influence left, 'at Headquarters,' that shall always be exerted for you. I am always glad to meet you, your father's son, for Colonel Hardwicke was a true soldier of the olden days--brave, loyal, and beyond reproach."

The lover's beating heart was smothered in this flowing honey. "Ah! I must trust to Simpson!" he mused. "The old man is a sly one!"

Politely bowed out by the stern, lonely old man, Major Hardwicke departed, his conversational guns spiked with the deft compliments, as the mighty clatter of the returning General filled the courtyard of the Marble House.

In the soft, wooing stillness of the night, Simpson, at the young Major's side, found time to whisper: "Never let the Guv'nor see us together! He's a sly one! There's a honey-baited trap in this! The girl's been spirited off to Europe! I only know that--but, as yet, no more."

"What do you mean? Is he lying to me?" gasped Hardwicke, with a sinking heart.

"Rightly said!" huskily whispered Simpson. "Seek for her--London ways--I'll find it out soon where she is, and I'm just scholar enough to write! Give me your own safe London address! I heard ye would soon take yer long leave. Bless her sweet soul! I'll tell ye now! She whispered to me: 'Tell him--tell Major Hardwicke--he'll hear from me himself, even if I was at the very end of the earth! and give him this!'" The frightened servant thrust a little packet into the officer's hand. "It was the only chance she had."

"That Swiss woman watched her every moment, and the man--the one the father sent from Calcutta. There was a telegram to her. I gave it to her myself! Major, my oath--they're on the blue water, now! I'll watch and come to you! Don't leave Delhi till I post you!"

"You're a brave fellow, Simpson. Keep this all quiet," softly said Major Hardwicke. "I'll follow your advice, and I'll not leave here till I know more from you. I'll follow her to j.a.pan, but I'll see her again."

"That's the talk, Major!" cried the happy old soldier, who felt something crisp in his hand now. "Distrust old Hugh! He'll lie to ye and trap ye! Watch him! He's capable of anything." The carriage then stopped with a crash and Hardwicke sprang out lightly. "Make no sign! Trust to me! I'll come to ye!" was Simpson's last word.

Before Simpson had discovered in the marble house the pleasing figures on a ten-pound note, Harry Hardwicke, striding up and down his room, in all the ecstasy of a happy lover, had kissed a hundred times a little silver card case--a mere school girl's poor treasure, but priceless now--for within it was a hastily severed tress of gold-brown hair, tied with a bit of blue ribbon. A sc.r.a.p of paper in penciled words brought to him "Confirmation stronger than Holy Writ." "I will write or telegraph when not watched. Do not forget. --Nadine."

The words of the old servitor returned to the soldier in a grim warning.

"He is capable of anything."

"So am I," cried Harry as his heart leaped up. "I will find her were she at the North Pole. He cannot hide her from me. Love laughs at locksmiths!"

If the would-be Sir Hugh Johnstone had heard the three verdicts of the hostile critics of his being "capable of anything," he might have laughed in defiance, but after several friendly "night caps" with the slightly jovial General Abercromby, it might have seriously disturbed the host to know what hidden suspicions the Viceroy's envoy had brought back from a very secret conference with that acute old local commander, Willoughby.

"It sounds all very well, Abercromby, my old friend," said Willoughby, "but Johnstone, or old Fraser, as we call him, is a hitman shark!

Without a list or some general details, he will surely rob the crown of one-half the jewels, you may be sure. His c.o.c.k and bull story of their recovery is too pellucid. It's Hobson's choice, though. That or nothing.