A Fascinating Traitor Part 23
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"Ah! now I see!" heavily breathed Hardwicke. "I will take the previous boat, and wait for the old man at Brindisi! Post me! I'll keep mum!"
"Depend on me for my life itself," said Simpson; "but be prudent! I don't want to lose my life pension. He's been a good master to me. We've grown old together!" sighed the gray-headed soldier.
The frightened Ram Lal Singh was driven around Delhi this eventful day like a hunted rat. Suddenly summoned to General Willoughby's private rooms, escorted by a sergeant, who never left him a moment, the old Mohammedan was ushered into the presence of the two generals, who pounced upon him and showed him a great, a.s.sorted treasure in diamonds, pearls, pigeon rubies, sapphires, and emeralds of great size and richness. They were all duly weighed and listed, and duplicate official invoices lay signed upon the table.
"You were Mirzah Shah's Royal Treasure Keeper? Tell me. Are all his jewels here? The treasure that disappeared at Humayoon's Tomb before Hodson slew the princes in the melee?"
Ram Lal saw the frowns of men who had blown better men than himself from the guns in the old days, and he had a vivid memory of those same hideous scenes.
"They are about half here in weight and number; about a quarter of the value. There is a hundred thousand pounds worth missing!" said the jewel dealer, gazing on the totals of numbers and weights. "The historic diamonds, the matchless pearls, the never-equaled rubies--all the choicest have been abstracted, and by a skillful hand!"
"Go, then!" cried Willoughby. "Seal this in your breast! Speak to no one or you'll die in jail, wearing irons! Here!" A hundred-pound note was thrust into his hand, and he was whirled away to his shop.
"Ah! The gray devil! he has stolen and hidden the best! I will watch him like a ghoul of Bowanee, and they shall be mine! He would turn tail now and steal away!" Ram Lal laughed an oily laugh, and going to an old cabinet, took out a heavy kreese. "The poisoned dagger of Mirzah Shah!"
he smiled. "After many years!" It was Hugh Johnstone himself who sought Ram Lal in his paG.o.da that afternoon, and, after making some heavy purchases, finally drew out a list of jewels.
"I wish you to certify, Ram Lal," he cautiously said, "that these are all the jewels of Mirzah Shah, that you handled as 'Keeper of the Prince's Treasure,' before the Meerut mutineers rushed down upon us."
Slowly peering over the paper, the crafty Ram Lal said:
"You forget, Sahib, that I was sent away to Lucknow and Cawnpore, by Mirzah Shah, with letters to Nana Sahib and Tantia Topee. I was shut out of Delhi till after the British were camped on the Windmill Ridge, and for months I never saw the royal jewels! Every moon the list was made anew. The mollahs and moonshees and treasurers took jewels for the Zenana every moon, and for the gifts of the princes. I could not testify to this!" The old man was on his guard.
"I will pay you well, Ram Lal. It is my last little matter to settle with the authorities! Then my accounts are closed forever! As Treasurer you could do this!" Old Hugh Fraser Johnstone was ignorant of the veiled scrutiny of his stewards.h.i.+p.
Ram Lal raised his head, at last, with something like defiance. "The better half is gone--the rarest--the richest! True, the princes may have divided them, they may have bribed their mutineer officers with some, but, a true list may be in the hands of these Crown officers here. They captured all the Palace papers. Now, I did not open them at Humayoon's Tomb. You know," he faltered, "how they pa.s.sed through your hands!"
Hugh Johnstone, for the last time tried to threaten and bully. "I will have you punished. I paid you well--you must lie for me! We both lied then."
"Then the curse of Allah be upon the liar who lies now," solemnly said Ram Lal Singh. "I will not sign! I have the savings of years to guard.
You will go away and the Crown will come upon me for the missing gems.
I was absent five months from the Palace when you were in Brigadier Wilson's Camp! I will offer my head to these generals, but I will not sign! The Kaisar-I-Hind is just, and I will tell all!" With an oath of smothered rage, Hugh Johnstone strode away.
"I must try and make a royal present to Willoughby's wife,--a timely one--and lose a half a lac of rupees to Abercromby. They may find a way to pa.s.s the matter over." He dared not press Ram Lal to a public exposition of all the wanderings of Mirzah Shah's jewels. "If I had not told them that fairy tale, I might hedge; but it's too late now. I will go down to Calcutta, see the Viceroy, and then clear out for good. And I must placate Alan Hawke. I was a fool to ignore him. But, to make an enemy of him, on account of that d.a.m.ned woman, would be ruin. He chums with Ram Lal. He might cable to Anstruther."
In fact Alan Hawke's bold social revolt had imposed on Johnstone. "He might help to cover all up if I induced Abercromby to get him back on the staff once more. I was a fool to slight him." Hugh Fraser Johnstone was dimly conscious that his own line of battle was wavering, and that his flanks were unguarded--his rear unprotected. "I will only trust my homeward pathway to Simpson, and my health is a good excuse for clearing out for good. I can easily locate on the Continent--in Belgium, or Switzerland--and out of reach of any little trouble to come. They've no proof. This fellow has no list, thank Heaven. I'll slip down to Ceylon and catch the first boat there to Suez. Then ho for Geneva!"
But Ram Lal Singh's slight defenses fell instantly before the golden battering-ram of Madame Berthe Louison's direct onslaught. "I was busied in the bazaars, buying jewels," he expostulated, when Jules Victor led him into Madame Louison's boudoir. Even then Major Hawke was curiously noting the dismantled condition of the reception-room, where Johnstone had at last thrown off the mask.
"I leave Major Hawke here to close all my business, Ram Lal," she said.
"I go to Calcutta. I may be gone for some months. But I have watched you and him. You are close friends--very close friends. Now, remember that I pay him and I pay you. I wish you to give me--to sell me--the list of the jewels which Johnstone took away from you and hid, when he was Hugh Fraser." The old scoundrel began to protest. Berthe Louison rang her silver bell. "Jules!" she said, "I wish you to go to General Willoughby with this letter, and tell him to send a guard here to arrest a thief who has government jewels."
Ram Lal was on the floor at her feet, groveling, before she grimly smiled, as he held out a paper, quickly extracted from his red sash.
"That will do, Jules." The Frenchman stood without the door. "You will not run away. You are far too rich, Ram Lal. And you will be watched every moment. Sign and seal the list, and date it to-day." The old craven begged hard for mercy. "Here is a hundred pounds. Hawke will pay you four hundred more when I am safely on the sea, but only then! He will close all my bills. Remember, I shall come back again. And," she whispered a word, "he will watch you closely." The jeweler sealed the doc.u.ment, and scribbled his certificate. "Not one word of my business, not even to Hawke, on your life," she said. "I shall come again! And General Willoughby will throw you in prison on a word from me."
Major Alan Hawke was astounded, after an hour's yielding to the social charm of Madame Alixe Delavigne, when the happy woman led him away from the dinner table. "Now for a half-hour's business chat," she gayly said.
"No, no notes. We shall next meet at No. 9 Rue Berlioz, Paris. You will receive my sealed directions from Grindlay's agent here, with funds to settle my affairs. I go to-night to Calcutta, and thence to Europe. Obey my orders. You will get them, sealed, from the agent here. You can come on, by Bombay, when I cable to you. I will cable direct here to Grindlay's. They'll not lose sight of you," she smiled.
"And my relations with old Hugh?" he gasped in surprise.
"Just watch him and follow him on to Europe. Neither you nor he can do me any harm, but your reward for your manly stand to-day will reach you in Paris. I knew of it."
"Shall I not see you to the train?" Hawke stammered.
"Ah!" she smiled, extending her hand warmly, "I have a double guard and my servants. I will be met at Calcutta, and I go on my way safely now to work a slow vengeance!"
CHAPTER X. A CAPTIVATED VICEROY.
There were several "late parties" in sumptuous Delhi, on the evening when Madame Berthe Louison drove quietly to the railway station at two o'clock. A little knot of tired officials were still on duty, and when some forerunner had given a private signal, a single car, drawn by a powerful locomotive, glided out of the darkness.
In a few moments a dozen trunks and a score of bags and bundles were tossed aboard the baggage van. Five persons stepped nimbly aboard, and then with no warning signal, the Lady of the Silver Bungalow was borne out into the darkness, racing on toward Calcutta with the swiftness of the wind.
Jules Victor, vigorous and alert, after several cups of cafe noir, well dashed with cognac, disposed his two Lefacheux revolvers in readiness, and then betook himself to a nap. His bright-eyed wife was in the compartment with her beautiful mistress, and ready to sound a shrill Gallic alarm at any moment. She gravely eyed the two escorting officials of the bank. Marie said in her heart that "all men were liars," and she believed most of them to be voleurs, in addition. Jules, when the little train was whirling along a-metals a score of miles away from Delhi, relaxed his Zouave vigilance, and bade a long adieu to Delhi, in a vigorous grunt. "Va bane! Sacre Canaille!"
There was silence at the railway station when the head agent wearily said, "I suppose the Bank is moving a lot of notes back to Calcutta!
They are a rum slick lot, these money changers!" When all was left in darkness, save where a blinking red and white line signal still showed, Ram Lal Singh crept away from the line of the rails. The rich jewel vender clutched in his bosom the handle of Mirzah Shah's poisoned dagger, the deadly dagger of a merciless prince.
He had long pondered over the sudden demand made upon him by the Lady of the Silver Bungalow. And he greatly desired to re-adjust his relations with Hugh Johnstone and Major Alan Hawke. The daily usefulness of "Lying as a Fine Art" was never before so apparent to Ram Lal. He slunk away on foot to his own bit of a zenana.
"I must try to deceive them both! Fool that I was not to see it before!
These two Generals are her friends, of old! The secret protector of the wonderful moon-eyed beauty here is General Willoughby, and the other General will secretly help her down at Calcutta. She came up here, secretly, to see her old lover Willoughby, and that is why she would be able to have a guard arrest me. For she said just what they said about the prison. Willoughby goes down often to Calcutta! Ah! Yes! They are all the same, these Englis.h.!.+ Fools! Not to lock their women up, when they have once bought them, with a secret price! And now, Hawke must never know of this paper I gave her. She would find out, and then have the General punish me. Now I know why she went not to the great English Mem-Sahibs here! And these two great General Sahibs have had her spy upon this old man, Hugh Fraser--the man who would steal away with the Queen's jewels. They would have them. By Bowanee! I will have them first! For I can hide them where they never will find them! I will trade them off to the Princes, who know the old jewels of Oude. They will give me double weight, treble value." Ram Lal crept into his hidden love nest, his skinny hand clutching the golden shaft of Mirzah Shah's dagger. "I might surrender them later and get an enormous reward from the Crown," he mused.
At the Delhi Club, Major Alan Hawke, in a strange unrest, paced his floor half the night. "I stand now nearly eleven thousand pounds to the good, with outlying counties to hear from, as the Yankees say." He smiled, "that is, if the old fox does not stop these drafts. If he does, I'll stop him!" he swore. And yet, he was troubled at heart. "I know Alixe Delavigne will call me back and pay me well. How did she find out about my bold bluff to Johnstone? Some servant may have overheard, and she is a deep one. She may even have her own spies there!"
"Justine, I can count on you to help me later. But, how to treat old Hugh?" His dreams of an army reinstatement came back to worry him. "I might go to Abercromby and warn him about Johnstone. d.a.m.n it! I've no proof as yet! Berthe Louison will fire the great gun herself." The renegade fell asleep, torturing himself about the needless breach with Johnstone. "All violence is a mistake!" he muttered, half asleep. "The angry old man will keep me away from the girl forever, and the old brute is going to Europe. I have spoiled one game in taking one trick too roughly."
Another "late party" was at Major Hardwicke's quarters, where the loyal Simpson related to the lover all the gossip of Johnstone and General Abercromby, over their brandy p.a.w.nee and cheroots. Simpson was the eager servitor of the young engineer, whom he loved.
General Willoughby had a little fit of "work" which seized upon him, and so he toiled till late at night, sending some cipher dispatches to the Viceroy. "I may make a point in this, perhaps a C. B.," said the old veteran, who was sharper when drunk than sober. "I'll put a pin in Johnstone's game, and get ahead of Abercromby." This last old warrior had secretly vowed to force Hugh Fraser Johnstone to present him to the "little party in the Silver Bungalow." The Calcutta general was a Knight of Venus, as well as a Son of Mars, and had guarded memories of some wild episodes of his own there in the halcyon days of the great chieftain who had builded it. A gay young staff officer whispered:
"Alan Hawke is the only one who really has the 'open sesame.' He knows that 'little party.' Didn't you see Johnstone hurry her away? The old nabob, too, is sly."
"Ah!" mused the General. "I'll make Johnstone have Hawke here to breakfast. Devilish clever fellow--and he'll take me there!" Alas! for these rosy antic.i.p.ations. The "little party" was already at Allahabad before the gouty general awoke from his love dream.
And, last of all the "late parties" on this eventful night was Hugh Fraser Johnstone's little solitary council of war. He had, with a prescience of coming trouble, detailed two of his own keenest personal servants to watch the Silver Bungalow, from daylight, relieving each other, and never losing sight a moment of the hidden tiger's den. "I'll find out who goes and comes there! By G.o.d! I will!" he raged. After a long cogitation, he evolved a "way out" of his quarrel with Hawke. "d.a.m.n the fellow! I must not drive him over into the enemy's camp. I'll have him here--to breakfast, to-morrow. The jewels are safely out of the way now. For a few pounds he will watch this she-devil, and that yellow thief, Ram Lal, for me. My only danger is in their coming together.
I'll get a note to him early." Seizing his chit-book, he dashed off in a frankly apologetic way a few lines. "There! That'll do! Not too much!"
He read his lines with a final approval.
"Dear Hawke: I've been worried to death with a lot of people thrust on me. Mere figure-heads. You must excuse an old friend--an old man--and Madame Louison is like all women--only a bundle of nerves. Come over to the house to-day at noon and breakfast with Abercromby and myself alone.
I'll send you back to Calcutta with him on a little run. I appreciate your manliness in keeping out of my little misunderstanding with the Madame. By the way, a few words from Abercromby to the Viceroy would put you back on the Army Staff, where you rightly belong. Let bygones be bygones, and you can make your play on the General, It's the one chance of a life. Come and see me. J."
"There! He will never show that!" mused Hugh Johnstone. "It touches his one little raw spot!" And calling a boy the old Commissioner dispatched the note, carefully sealed, to the Club. The last one to seek his rest in the marble house, old Johnstone was strangely shaken by the events of the day.
Berthe Louison's threats, Ram Lal's stubborn refusal, and the useless quarrel with Hawke had unmanned him. He drank a strong gla.s.s of grog and then sought his room. "All things settle themselves at last! This thing will blow over! I wish to G.o.d that she was out of the way! I could then handle the rest!" For in his heart he feared the defiant woman.
There were two men equally surprised when gunfire brought the "day's doings" on again in lazy, luxurious Delhi. Over his morning coffee, Major Alan Hawke thankfully cried: "I am a very devil for luck! This old skinflint is opening his bosom and handing me a knife. By G.o.d! I'll have my pound of fles.h.!.+" He leaped from his couch as blithe as a mids.h.i.+pman receiving his first love letter from a fullgrown dame. There was great joy in the house of Hawke.
A Fascinating Traitor Part 23
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A Fascinating Traitor Part 23 summary
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