The Wheel O' Fortune Part 24

Mrs. Haxton also sprang up. Her physical dread of the man had yielded to the triumph of having cornered him.

"Truly I hope his Excellency hears," she said. "If I am to blame for the loss of your papers, why is Baron von Kerber in prison on your testimony?"

"You are both in league," he almost screamed. "I was blind, infatuated, at a.s.souan. It was the Austrian who planned my undoing, and you, his paramour, who cajoled me out of my senses."

"I refuse to stay here and be insulted by such a coward," she said, gathering her skirts as though she intended to take her departure instantly. "But it will be a fine story that Signor Fenshawe cables from Aden when he tells how the Governor of Ma.s.sowah aided and abetted this half-crazy poltroon in onslaughts on defenseless women. It was not enough that Italian law should be misused to further his ends, but the sc.u.m of the bazaar is enlisted under his banner, and he is supported by the authorities in an act that would be reprobated by any half-savage state in existence."

"I pray you calm yourself, signora," exclaimed Marchetti, now fully alive to the dangers confronting him. "You must see that I have only acted in an official capacity. I, at least, have no feeling in the matter. I received certain information--"

"Which was entirely misleading and one-sided," she broke in imperiously.

"Which certainly did not refer to you in any particular," was the sharp rejoinder, while he glanced at Alfieri, "If this gentleman is now prepared to say that he was mistaken--"

"Who dares to hint at any admission on my part?" shouted Alfieri.

The stout Governor did not like to be bawled at. He was sufficiently embarra.s.sed already by the quagmire into which Alfieri had plunged him.

"You ought to be careful in your choice of words," he said pompously.

"There is no question of 'dare' or 'dare not' where I am concerned.

Signora, do me the favor of sitting here while I discuss matters briefly with Signor Alfieri. Signor, be good enough to precede me."

He pointed to the door. With a queer catching at her breath, Mrs.

Haxton sank into a chair. Alfieri folded his arms and gazed at the Governor with eyes that blazed under his heavy brows.

"You are the representative of Italy," he said, making a great effort to speak quietly. "I call on you to lodge that woman in a cell so that she may be tried with her accomplice."

"If you do not go instantly, and in silence, into the corridor, I shall call on my guards to take you there by force," exclaimed Marchetti with a more successful a.s.sumption of ease.

Alfieri turned his lambent glance on Mrs. Haxton, but the Governor stopped the imminent outburst.

"I said 'in silence,'" he roared, stretching a hand to grasp a bell- rope. Alfieri, with a fierce gesture of disdain, went out. His Excellency bowed to the lady.

"Two minutes," he murmured. "The wine on the table is Capri. You will find it grateful after this somewhat heated interview."

But Mrs. Haxton drank no wine when the Governor followed Alfieri. She bit her lips and clenched her hands in an agony of restraint. This lull in the storm was more trying than the full fury of the blast. The Governor's two minutes lengthened into ten. Then he hurried back, alone. He was manifestly ill at ease, though he spoke glibly enough.

"I am taking a grave step, signora," he said, "but I feel that the peculiar circ.u.mstances warrant it. I have released the Baron von Kerber. He is now awaiting you, and it will give me much pleasure to conduct you to your carriage. Yet I pray you give earnest heed to me. I have told him what I now tell you--this undertaking of yours must be abandoned. Not only is it my duty to prevent it at all costs, but an expedition starts for the Five Hills this very night. So, you see, you are sure to fail in any case. The exact locality is known, and Signor Alfieri has an armed escort. I repeat, you have failed. May I hope, without being rude, that your love affairs may be more prosperous.

Charming woman that you are, I cannot compliment you on either of your present suitors. My advice Is, go back to England, and help me tomorrow in persuading Signor Fenshawe to let matters rest where they are."

As one walking in a dream, Mrs. Haxton accompanied Marchetti to the courtyard. There she found von Kerber, who ran to meet her.

"So it is you," he cried in English. "I guessed it, though they would tell me nothing."

The Governor was most polite. He would not lecture them, before natives.

"I have spoken as a friend, to-night," he murmured. "To-morrow I shall be an official once more."

The alabeeyah rattled across the paved square towards the gateway.

Alfieri, on whom an officer kept an eye, watched it with malevolence from an upper window.

"There go two people whom I hate," he said to his guardian. "They have escaped me this time. When I am rich, rich as any king in Europe, I shall have a king's power. Then I shall find them and crush them utterly."

The driver swung his horses towards the sea front.

"No, no," cried Mrs. Haxton. "Go through the bazaar. Drive slowly."

And, in the next breath, she explained to von Kerber: "We must find Abdullah. He is somewhere in the main street. Above all things, we must find Abdullah. Alfieri leaves Ma.s.sowah tonight, and he is making for the Five Hills. Our only hope lies with Abdullah."

CHAPTER XII

STUMP DEPENDS ON OBSERVATION

After eight hours of dreamless sleep, Irene awoke to a torpid but blissful conviction that bed is a most comfortable place when bones ache and the slightest movement is made irksome by patches of chafed skin. In fact, having buried her hands gingerly in the wealth of brown hair that streamed over the pillow, she lay and watched the white planks of the deck overhead, wondering idly what time it was. The effort to guess the hour brought her a stage nearer complete consciousness. Her first precise recollection was also pleasant. She thought of the way in which Royson had carried her in his arms not so many hours earlier, and the memory banished all others for many minutes.

If she smiled and blushed a little, it may be pleaded that she was twenty years of age, and had pa.s.sed her girlhood amidst surroundings from which young men eligible to carry young ladies in their arms, or even hold them there, were rigorously excluded. Not that her grandfather was a misanthrope, but his interests were bound up so thoroughly in Egyptian research that his friends were, for the most part, elderly savants with kindred tastes. The wreck, of the _Bokhara_, too, with Irene's father and mother among its pa.s.sengers, had helped to cut him off from the social world. When the grief of that tragedy had yielded to the pa.s.sing years he hardly realized that the little child who had crept into his affections was growing up into a beautiful and light-hearted girl. Quite insensibly she a.s.similated herself to his hobbies and studies, became mistress of his London house and fine estate in Berkshire, and, by operation of forces more effective in their way than any Puritanical safeguards, lived apart from the gay throng in which she was eminently fitted to take a leading place.

Irene offered, then, a somewhat unusual type. While other girls might recount the number of male hearts they had subdued during the past season, Irene could state, with equal accuracy, the names of the G.o.ds of the Memphite order. Though her grandfather's wealth and the eagerness of a skilled maid compelled her to take a pa.s.sing interest in fashions, she was far more devoted to variations in scarabs. Such attainments, if sedulously pursued during the succeeding decade, might have converted her into an alarmingly precise Bas Bleu! As it was, the Memphite G.o.ds smiled on her, and the scarabs might buzz off to their museums contentedly at any moment, for Irene was only waiting the advent of an undreamed-of influence into her life to develop into a tender, sympathetic, delightful womanhood.

Indeed, if Ka and Ra and beetle-headed Khepra were so important in the scheme of existence that this dainty scientist cared naught for the moth-life of society, why, then, did she blush when she remembered how closely d.i.c.k Royson had clasped her to his breast over-night? Perhaps she might have asked herself that question, only to blush more deeply in trying to answer it, had not her thoughts been distracted by the extraordinary behavior of a silk underskirt hanging on a peg at the foot of the bed. It was swinging to and fro with the regularity of a pendulum, and that which is regular in a pendulum is fantastically irregular in an underskirt. She sat up quickly, and listened. There was a swish of water outside. Now and again she heard a slight movement of the rudder chains in their boxes. Then, all aglow with wonder and excitement, she jumped out of bed and drew the curtain of one of the two tiny portholes that gave light to her cabin.

Yes, another marvel had happened. The yacht was speeding along under canvas,--was already far out at sea. Where Ma.s.sowah's yellow sandspit shone yesterday were now blue wavelets dancing in the sun, and Irene was sailor enough to know that the _Aphrodite_ was bound south.

She rang an electric bell, and her maid came.

"Yes, miss," said the girl, "we've been going since midnight. As soon as Mrs. Haxton and Baron von Kerber came on board--"

"Baron von Kerber, did you say?" broke in Irene breathlessly.

"Yes, miss. He came with Mrs. Haxton. Mind you, miss, I haven't seen him, but one of the stewards told me that the Baron went straight to Mr. Fenshawe's cabin, and the order was given to raise the anchor immediately. I'm sure they made plenty of noise. They woke me up, miss, and I'm a sound sleeper."

The maid was ready to say more, but Irene had learnt to discourage servants' gossip.

"I think the _Aphrodite_ might have fired cannons last night without disturbing me," she declared lightly. "What time is it?"

"Nearly nine o'clock, miss. No one seemed to be stirring, so Mr. Gibson put off breakfast for half an hour. He said that everybody must be worn out after yesterday's worries."

Irene laughed. Gibson, the head steward, a fatherly sort of man, was a martinet in the matter of punctuality at meals. This adjourning of the breakfast hour was a great concession on his part. It showed how strenuous life had been at Ma.s.sowah.

Despite her aches and pains, she dressed rapidly. She was all agog to learn how von Kerber had regained his liberty, and what new development was marked by the yacht's unexpected sailing. When she hurried to the bridge for news, the first person she met was Royson, and perhaps one of those old deities of Memphis would have smiled darkly were he privileged to see the tell-tale color that leaped to both faces.

Naturally, the girl was the speedier to find her tongue.

"Good gracious, Mr. Royson," she said, "what is the meaning of this?"

and a generous hand-sweep included sea and sky and distant coastline in the eager question.

"I don't know," he said. "Captain Stump and Mr. Tagg entered into a conspiracy to keep me in bed. I have not been on deck five minutes."