Caravans By Night Part 49

It seemed to Trent that he had scarcely closed his eyes before a touch awakened him. Sunlight floated through the window in a cloud of gold, and Hsiao, the muleteer, stood beside his cot. When he rose he felt stiff and empty of vitality; the vampire of utter exhaustion had drained him while he slept. A groove was worn into his brain, a groove into which all thoughts fell unresistingly.

It was nearly nine o'clock, and a few minutes later when he went below he found Kee Meng bending over a fire, boiling water for his tea.

"I thought I told you not to move about," he said sternly to the Mussulman.

Kee Meng tapped his wound. "See, it is well now, _Tajen_!" Then he inclined his head toward the soldier who lounged in the gateway. "I was talking to him a while ago, _Tajen_, and he says there is great excitement at the house of the councillor, Na-chung, because"--Kee Meng winked--"because Na-chung disappeared last night and they fear he has been murdered and his body thrown to the dogs and vultures! He says they are searching the city for the councillor."

Trent did not smile. In his eyes was an absent look, as though his brain followed a derelict idea. Presently he asked:

"I've had no message from the lama?"

"No, _Tajen_."

Trent spent a restless three hours. He went up on the roof and smoked and thought. There was something pregnant and repressed in the calm blue sky, in the gleam of Lhakang-gompa's golden roofs, and in the shimmer and glare of the whitewashed city. He waited until noon, hoping he would hear from Kerth; but no message came, and, vaguely troubled, he descended from the roof. He procured his revolver; slipped it under his orange-yellow robe. Then he sought Kee Meng, who was in the quadrangle.

"I am going to the Governor's house," he told the muleteer. "As soon as the soldier and I have gone, get our packs together and you and the men go to the place where Hsiao and Kang went last night. Stay there, in hiding, until you hear from me. Under no circ.u.mstances leave. Deliver the--the thing that is hidden in the cellar only in my presence or upon a written order from me."

"But, _Tajen_," objected Kee Meng, "do you go alone?"

Trent nodded. "Alone."

An expression of genuine concern came into the Mussulman's oblique eyes.

"This is an evil city, _Tajen_; the Governor is an evil man. It was he who commanded the archers yesterday. And the brother--what of the brother, _Tajen_?"

"I am going now to find him." Then he called Hsiao. "Tell the soldier I wish to go to the Governor's house," he directed. "Then bring my horse."

Fifteen minutes later Trent and the soldier rode out of the quadrangle and toward Lhakang-gompa.

They skirted the outer walls of the monastery and followed a wide street through a part of the city that was unfamiliar to Trent. The Governor's residence was at the very end, surrounded by a garden and roofed with dazzling blue tiles. A soldier admitted them into the courtyard, where they waited until a man who, Trent imagined, was a chamberlain came out and spoke in Tibetan to the soldier. Then the former went inside. He reappeared a moment later and beckoned to Trent. The Englishman dismounted; left his pony with the soldier; followed the chamberlain into the dwelling.

He was conducted along a hall that was dark after the bright sunlight.

Curtains parted, swished behind him. As his vision became better regulated to the dimness he saw a great door, stained cardinal-red. This was opened by the chamberlain, who stood aside for him to enter.... The door closed gently behind him.

He was in a room with scarlet-lacquered walls and frescoes like those in the Armory. The silken hangings, too, were scarlet, and a single window with an iron grill allowed the sunshine to filter through in golden rain. Facing him was a silver image of Janesseron, the Three-eyed G.o.d of Thunder; and beneath the idol, at a Burmese teakwood table that struck a jarring note in the otherwise Tibetan room, and in a teakwood chair that was equally as incongruous, sat his Transparency Hsien Sgam, the Governor of Shingtse-lunpo.

The Mongol rose an instant after Trent entered and limped forward, his hand extended. Realizing it would be unwise to offend Hsien Sgam at the outset, the Englishman accepted the proffered hand.

"I am delighted to see you,"--Hsien Sgam paused deliberately and smiled--"Mr. Tavernake." And he added: "We may converse without fear of being overheard; there are no eavesdroppers in my house. Will you sit down? I was unprepared for this visit, as I did not expect to receive you until to-night, when I hoped to have you dine with me--which I still hope you will do.... I trust no trouble brings you?"

Trent, not surprised by the reception (for east of Suez a dagger lurks beneath silk), carefully chose his words before he gave tongue to them.

"I've come to report a loss," he announced, looking directly at Hsien Sgam.

"Ah!" The Mongol uttered the expletive softly.

A long pause followed, each man waiting for the other to resume. Hsien Sgam took the initiative.

"I am desolated to learn that you have suffered a loss, though of what nature I am not yet aware. We--er--find it very difficult to control thievery in the city. May I inquire what you lost?"

The bronze face was as expressionless as that of the Buddha it so resembled. Nor was Trent's face any less impa.s.sive. It was as though the two had drawn armor about them.

"Last night," said the Englishman, "one of my muleteers disappeared."

"Ah!" Again the soft expletive. "Is that strange--er--Mr. Tavernake? Is it not likely that he deserted?"

Trent went on:

"He was attacked while returning from the festival with another muleteer. The latter was wounded in the struggle, knocked unconscious; and when he awakened his companion was gone. Since then I haven't seen nor heard of the missing muleteer."

A smile settled upon Hsien Sgam's beautiful face. Once more Trent caught the illusion: eyes of Lucifer, face of Buddha.

"Be a.s.sured, Mr. Tavernake, I shall do all in my limited power to learn whither your--er--_muleteer_ has been spirited."

Trent rested one hand upon his hip, touching the steel beneath the robe.

"I understand," he began, "that last evening your chief councillor, Na-chung, who was kind enough to accompany me to the ceremonies yesterday, was missed from his home."

Hsien Sgam limped back to his table; sat down; folded his hands upon the surface. The close-cropped head rose, almost as a deformity, from the dark crimson robe. In that instant he was both sinister and pathetic, threatening and pleading. Trent saw him as a figure curiously detached and aloof from human beings (the power of the man could not be denied), as mentally grotesque and misshapen as his limb.

"It is strange," he declared in those chosen, precise words of his, "that the two disappeared on the same night, your _muleteer_ and my chief councillor. It is quite"--the slant eyes smiled--"quite coincidental." A pause. "Do I--er--strike the nail on the head, as they put it in your country, when I say that you come for a twofold purpose: to solicit my aid in finding your _muleteer_, and to inform me that you have discovered a clue that might lead to the very excellent Na-chung?

In other words, you suggest a compromise: I agree to direct my efforts toward recovering your--er--lost one, if you produce the clue that will lead us to the councillor."

Another smile. Trent, too, smiled--only inwardly. There was something droll in the situation.

"Did you consider," the Mongol continued, "that--er--my duties may be quite pressing and that I might find it difficult to spare the time to devote to searching for your--_muleteer_?"

"But surely," Trent parleyed, "in return for the service I can render, you will find it convenient to spare time enough to repay me?"

Hsien Sgam's eyes contemplated the surface of the table; his fingers worked with nervous energy.

"Suppose," he suggested, "even _then_ I find it impossible to respond to a suggestion that under other conditions and at another time would be welcome. What then?"

"Then," answered Trent, "I should call the compromise a failure."

Silence. Presently Hsien Sgam spoke:

"Let us cast aside pretenses," he said in his quiet, restrained manner.

"You have brought--I hesitate to say it--war into my camp, so to speak, and you expect me to accept the first terms that are offered." He linked his hands together. "That is impossible, Mr. Tavernake." He rose. There was a queer majesty about him. "Nor do I think it wise for you to resort to--to crude enforcements such as you now contemplate." He smiled with self-a.s.surance. "Consider the results. You would not gain your objective; you would be acting as did the man in your very excellent English parable about a fowl and a golden egg."

Then he lifted his hand and rapped upon the table--and almost instantly the door behind Trent opened. The Englishman did not turn, though he heard the footsteps of more than one.

"Suppose"--this suavely from the Mongol--"we declare an armistice, as it were, until to-night? It will afford me great pleasure to offer you the hospitality of my residence and thus eliminate the inconvenience of riding back to your house in the midday sun. At eight o'clock to-night we will dine--is not that the conventional European hour?--at which time we can discuss a compromise. Also the duties which you shall a.s.sume in Shingtse-lunpo."

He spoke a few words in what Trent imagined was Tibetan to those standing behind the Englishman. Then he addressed Trent again.

"Shall I be presuming if I suggest that you give into my keeping that which you have under your robe?" He smiled. "You see, not being familiar with the customs of my country, you are not aware that it is considered an act of discourtesy for a guest to keep any sort of firearm during a visit, no matter how brief. You will forgive me for a.s.suming the role of instructor?"

Trent drew the revolver from beneath his garments; pa.s.sed it to Hsien Sgam. The latter accepted it with the air of one receiving a token of surrender. He bowed slightly.