CHAPTER V.
THE SEAL OF SOLOMON.
THE escort must have formed a high idea of the courage of European ladies when Eveleen led the way the next morning in the direction of the very canal where, as they had learnt from the syce, she had barely escaped with her life from the hands of infuriated villagers. But this time she had no intention of continuing Bajazet’s education—so alarmingly interrupted. What she wanted was to come across Carthew again, on his way back from his artillery practice. She took great credit to herself for refraining from sending to him directly, since Richard had said that would injure him, but it is to be feared that at the back of her mind was the determination to do so if necessary. Time was pressing, and Brian must have his money. Happily, however, it was not necessary, for Tamas Sahib came in sight with his escort while she was still well on the Qadirabad side of the canal. Both parties stopped short, and while Eveleen was hesitating whether to ride on towards Carthew or send a messenger to summon him to speak to her, one of his men detached himself from the rest and rode towards her party. But he made no attempt to speak to her, addressing himself instead to the Daffadar in command of the escort, who went forward a pace or two to meet him. The messenger delivered over something long and thin, wrapped in a silk handkerchief, and when it was handed to Eveleen with the Topkhana Daroga’s salams, she found it was the lost whip. But there was no time to waste in rejoicing, and she turned boldly to the Daffadar.
“Let the messenger bear my salams to the Daroga Sahib, and say that I beg him to approach and receive my thanks.”
The man looked surprised and doubtful, but her tone and bearing were so carelessly assured that there was no room for misunderstanding. He repeated her words to the messenger, and when he had ridden back and reported them, Carthew came forward in his turn, with evident reluctance.
“Glad to have got you your whip, ma’am,” he said, with the bluffness that covers embarrassment. “The villagers had it hidden, but I made ’em give it up. And now, if you’ll excuse me goin’ back——”
“But I want you to do something for me first,” Eveleen broke in, anticipating a hasty withdrawal at the close of the sentence. “Can you tell me of a pawnbroker?”
“A pawnbroker, ma’am?” Measureless astonishment was in his tone.
“Yes, a pawnbroker—or a moneylender, at any rate. I want to raise some money—at once.”
“But—the Major——” he stammered.
“I don’t want Major Ambrose to know anything about it. It’s for my brother—you’ll have seen him at home?”
“And a fine young gentleman he was,” mechanically. “But you don’t understand, ma’am—it ain’t the thing——”
“I tell you I must have it. If you won’t help me I must ask the servants. But”—with the air of one making a huge concession—“I don’t mind handing the jewellery over to you, so that you can get the money as if for yourself.”
“But the look of it, ma’am! How could I put the money in your hands? The Major must become aware——”
“Very well, then—tell me where the man lives, or show me the way there, and I’ll do it myself.”
“You can’t, ma’am, believe me. You don’t seem to see——”
“I see what must be done, and that I’ll have to do it if you won’t. That’s plain, ain’t it?”
The unhappy Carthew pondered the matter. “There is a fellow,” he said reluctantly at last, “that has a garden somewhere this way. If he should so happen to be there to-day, it would be better than goin’ to his house in the Bazar. Have you the—the goods with you, ma’am?”
“That I have!” She handed him the little parcel from her saddle-pocket. “And it must be three hundred rupees, you’ll remember—no less, and I want to send it to Poonah.”
“A letter of credit,” he murmured vaguely. “And these—this is your own, ma’am?”
“Every bit my own—given me by the General. Major Ambrose has nothing to do with it. Then I’ll be riding about here, if you’ll bring me the money or the letter or whatever it is?”
“If I might send it to the Residency——?” feebly, but he was wax in her hands. The old tradition of the hunting-field was too strong. She scorned the suggestion.
“Didn’t you tell me yourself it wouldn’t do? No, just give it me here, and we’ll be done with it.”
What the Daffadar and his men thought when they saw the Daroga ride back to his escort, and found themselves following at a discreet distance, did not appear. Eveleen was determined to keep her emissary in sight, lest he should make use of the narrow lanes between the garden walls to take to his heels, and afterwards return the jewel with regrets. She had no particular confidence in him—merely a lordly feeling that since he was here, he must do what was required of him, and be well looked after while he did it. He had always been inclined to shirk his fences, and her kindness to him after the boghole disaster was a debt of honour, since it was purely at her incitement he had dared the leap. She saw him halt at a gateway and demand admittance, then ride in, and she began to walk Bajazet up and down, keeping a wary eye on the gate meanwhile, the escort following her movements faithfully. Sooner than she expected she saw Carthew emerging again, and rode forward to meet him.
“You won’t tell me you have not made him do it? You must think of somebody else, then.”
“It ain’t that. The old chap seems uncommon pleased, that’s a fact. But he wants to know how you got hold of the thing—afraid he might be accused of stealin’ it, I suppose”—as wrath flashed from Eveleen’s eyes—“and if it’s brought you good luck since you had it?”
“What in the world would that matter to him?”
“I don’t know, ma’am—unless he’s afraid of keepin’ it in his house if it’s been unlucky with you.”
“That it hasn’t, then. Why, didn’t I get married since it was given me?” If there was irony in her tone, it did not reach Carthew, who grasped eagerly at the idea.
“The very thing, and no mistake! And how did the General get the thing, do you know, ma’am?”
“’Twas at Seringapatam—that’s all I know. He may have killed the man that had it, or he may have bought it from some one that did.”
“That ought to be all right. You’ll get the money, ma’am, never fear! The letter to be in favour of Lieutenant Delany, I presume?” She nodded. “Oh, and I was forgettin’. The old fellow seems half inclined to make you an offer for the thing outright—so much money down. Would you choose to accept of it?”
“That I won’t! I wouldn’t part with it on any account. Tell him I’ll redeem it the first chance I get. Ah, and listen now. If it’s luck he’s thinking of, tell him the luck’s mine, because the seal belongs to me, and if he loses it—better say ‘loses,’ not ‘sells’—I’ll keep the luck, and he’ll have the thing without it. That’ll frighten him.”
“As you please, ma’am,” and off he went again, to return after a time with a document which was naturally quite unintelligible to Eveleen, but which he assured her was a letter of credit, drawn up in due form, on a Poonah firm with which her brother was sure to be well acquainted. “And I was to tell you, ma’am, that if you should wish to sell the trinket at any time, he made no doubt of being able to find you a purchaser at a very handsome price, but he would advise you not to let the chance go by, as the offer might not remain open long.”
“What does he mean? That sounds like a threat,” said Eveleen quickly. “Well, I’m not going to sell it, and I won’t be threatened by any old pawnbroker in Qadirabad. You told him that, I hope?”
“I warned him—that I did,” but there was something uneasy and yet helpless in Carthew’s voice which made her look at him. She waited a moment to see if he would say anything more, but in vain.
“Well, I am greatly obliged to you, Mr Carthew. I don’t know how I’d have ever managed by myself. I’ll tell my brother how much he’s indebted to you. Good morning!”
It was not an age when ladies shook hands with all and sundry, and Carthew did not expect it. He accepted his dismissal with something—it might almost seem—of relief, and the two parties separated.
As she made her way home with the precious document in the saddle-pocket, Eveleen realised the need of getting it to Brian as soon as possible. His letter to her had consumed so much time in its wanderings up and down the river that in any case he must run things very fine. If all her trouble was not to be in vain, she must send the letter of credit off by the steamer which left for Bab-us-Sahel that evening, and she groaned, for she was little more of a penman than Brian himself. But it was consoling to feel that he would make no complaint of brevity on her part so long as the enclosure was satisfactory, and the letter was duly despatched, with the assurance that not even for him could she ask Ambrose for more money, but her dear boy might be sure that for his sake she would sell, if necessary, anything but her wedding-ring. The letter once gone, she was quite happy, knowing nothing of the whirlwind of talk her proceedings had let loose in the servants’ quarters. As so often happens, Richard, the other person most concerned, knew nothing of it either, and being much engrossed in the duties of his new position as head of the Agency in Colonel Bayard’s absence, did not even notice the excitement that prevailed.
It was not until some weeks later that Eveleen heard of her pendant again. The hot weather was coming on, and her daylight rides had ceased perforce. Only in the early morning hours was exertion possible, and even then it cost her an effort that astonished her. The year before she had been at Mahabuleshwar, so that this was her first hot weather in the plains, and the blazing sun and relentless heat filled her with a kind of terror, enhanced by the suddenness of the transition from comparative coolness and night frosts. She was lying listlessly on a bamboo couch one day, unable to do anything—for the least exertion made her pant painfully—intent only on getting through the dreadful hours somehow until evening brought some relief, when Richard came in. It was an unusual hour for him to appear, for he stuck to the office as rigorously as his chief had done, and he took her by surprise. For once he beheld her without the innocent make-believe of wellbeing and energy—quite unconscious on her part—which had served hitherto to hide from him how much the heat was trying her, and she saw his face harden suddenly into decision. But he spoke of something quite different, with an assumption of bluff humour which did not suit him at all. Richard Ambrose was not a humorous person. Like the legendary Scotchman, he joked “wi’ deeficculty.”
“I fancy you won’t feel inclined to raise money on your jewellery again in a hurry, my dear!” Her eyes, accustomed to the dim light, could see him distinctly as he groped across the bare shaded room, whereas he was only able to distinguish the tell-tale inertness of the white figure on the couch. As always, his voice and presence acted as a tonic, and Eveleen sat up.
“Y’are greatly pleased with yourself about something, Ambrose! Will you tell me what it is?”
“Oh, you shall hear it, I promise you!” He dropped into a chair, but found it impossible to go on wearing the mask. “What possessed you to go and borrow money from one of these people here?” he demanded wrathfully, “And through that fellow the Daroga, too! Have you no sense of what is suitable in your position?”
A challenge to fight would never find Eveleen wanting. “My position?” she repeated slowly. “My position was that I wanted the money, and had to get it somehow.”
“Since you were ashamed to ask your husband for it. Oh, don’t be afraid; I can guess what it was for. That brother of yours again, of course! If he ain’t ruined, it won’t be his loving sister’s fault.”
“As it happens,” with great dignity, “’twas to save him from ruin, and I’m proud to have done it.”
“Of course! It don’t occur to you, I presume, that what the fellow wants is a regular hard time, under a commander who’ll keep his nose to the grindstone, instead of peacocking on the Staff? With you eternally helping him out of every scrape he may choose to get into, he hasn’t a chance. Well, don’t say I haven’t warned you!”
“But sure that’s the very thing I’m doing—helping him go where he’ll be well looked after. Helping him with the money, I mean,” she added in a panic, fearing she had betrayed herself. But Richard, to do him justice, was not suspicious.
“Have it your own way, my dear. You have your own way of doing things, and I suppose you’ll stick to it. Of course it was too much to expect you to consider me in your anxiety to serve your brother?”
“I did consider you,” bluntly. “Sure I’d have asked you for the money if I hadn’t.”
“You wouldn’t have got it, I assure you.”
“Well, didn’t I save you the unpleasantness of refusing?”
“I wonder you didn’t take that as a reason for robbing my desk! It don’t matter, of course, that every tongue in the Agency and in the Fort is buzzing over my wife and myself, and inventing new scandals every day?”
“Oh, people will talk!” with superb detachment. “If there’s nothing handy to talk about, they’ll make it up. The Agency people know there’s no harm about us, anyhow, and as for the Fort, I’d like to know what business it is of theirs?”
“That’s it, precisely. You have poked your nose into Khemistan politics, my dear. You may have discovered by this time that there are two parties among the Khans—old Gul Ali’s, which wants peace with the English, and the one headed by young Kamal-ud-din, which would like to turn us out neck and crop. It has worried me no end lately to find Kamal-ud-din and his set all so uncommonly cock-a-hoop, and I can tell by Bayard’s letters that he’s worried too. Well, to-day the reason came out, when I saw Kamal-ud-din in durbar wearing that blue dinner-plate of yours. I thought I couldn’t be mistaken, but I made up my mind to come home and ask you before saying anything, in case it was merely the fellow to it. I fancy they were rather disappointed that I didn’t kick up a dust, but afterwards they invited me into the garden to see a new pavilion they are building. All the young Khans and their hangers-on were there, and I saw they were egging on little Hafiz-Ullah to say something. Presently he burst out, with a nasty little giggle, ‘The Istunt Sahib has not congratulated my cousin on recovering the talisman of his house.’ Kamal-ud-din was smirking so vilely that I couldn’t doubt any longer the thing was yours, and that you had let me in for something unpleasant——”
“I don’t see why. They might have stolen it,” broke in Eveleen.
“And then directed my attention to it, while you had said nothing of losing it? No, my dear, pardon me; I am beginning to know your ways by this time. I took a good look at the object, and said in a bored sort of voice, ‘Curious! I could almost believe it had a look of a jewel that belonged to my wife, and that I bade her get rid of, because English people don’t wear such things.’ They were a good bit taken aback at that, but one of the hangers-on put in, ‘Yes, it came from the Istunt Sahib’s house.’ I looked him down and said—precious sternly, I promise you,—‘You mean his Highness has bought it from the goldsmith Mrs Ambrose sold it to. I hope he didn’t let him make too much on the transaction.’ They saw there was no change to be had out of me—the Munshi told me afterwards they had their story all pat of your having sent the thing to Kamal-ud-din with your salams, and if I had shown any sign of anger or surprise, out it would have come—and began to offer explanations in a hurry. The talisman had been carried off fifty years ago by a captain of the guard who quarrelled with the Khans of that day, and contrived to escape with his life. He was heard of afterwards as a soldier of fortune in South India, but no one knew what became of him and the stone at last. I was able to supply the rest of the story, of course, and they were grateful, having a lurking doubt whether they had got the right thing after all. It seems the stone brings good luck to its possessor, which is the reason of all the secret jubilation that has been worrying me. When they had said all they had to say, I smiled superior, and remarked what a satisfaction it was to Mrs Ambrose and myself to have been the means of restoring such an interesting relic to his Highness’s family, and so came away.”
“But we have not restored it to them, and we won’t! I never sold it—only pawned it.”
“Precisely what I thought, my dear. That’s what I meant by saying that you wouldn’t pawn your jewellery again in a hurry.”
“But he’s not going to keep it?”
“Pardon me, he is—very much so.”
“You gave away my pendant to this creature?”
“Must I remind you, my dear, that what is yours is mine?” This was literally true in those days, but it was a sore point with almost every woman, and tactful husbands did not insist upon it overmuch. Richard Ambrose realised this immediately. “Not that I would press that for a moment—you know me better. But you would not wish to detain another person’s property?”
“It’s not his property—it’s mine. I came by it honestly, and if you think the General didn’t, you’d better say so! I won’t have my things given away without so much as ‘by your leave’!”
“Now pray don’t work yourself up about nothing at all. You shall have another brooch—or whatever you like to call it—that you can wear, as you couldn’t this, and with better stones. No doubt the General came by it honestly, but it’s certain it was stolen property to start with. Now the rightful owner has got it back, that’s all.”
“Well, he’s not got the luck that goes with it!” triumphantly. “I warned the old thief of a pawnbroker that if he parted with the stone I’d keep that. And so I will!”
“Be quiet!” said Richard sternly, for her voice had risen. “Do you want to be murdered? That’s what will happen if you talk like this.” She looked at him aghast, and he proceeded to improve the occasion, pleased with the effect he had produced. “Now listen to me, my dear. It’s about time you left off behaving in this childish way, and settled down like a reasonable being. Since I brought you here you have given more trouble than all the other women in the place put together. If the Resident wasn’t soft to the point of folly where a lady is concerned, you would have been sent down the river again—or even back to Bombay—in double quick time. But because he’s a fool on this point, there’s no need I should be. I tell you plainly, I have no fancy for being stabbed or poisoned purely for the sake of breaking your luck, but that’s what will happen——”
He stopped perforce, for Eveleen had flung herself upon him with a shriek. “Ambrose! you don’t mean it? They wouldn’t hurt you because of my silliness? I’ll write—I’ll go and tell them——”
“My dear! Pray”—he freed himself with some difficulty—“do try to exercise self-control. Nothing will happen to either of us if you will only behave with ordinary prudence. The matter is happily ended now, and needs no intervention on your part. But if I had not belittled the talisman—had I shown any desire to regain it—we should all probably have had to fight for our lives to-night. I have instilled into Kamal-ud-din’s mind a doubt of its value which it will take some time to repair. The stone is where it belongs; be content with that. And if I may venture to suggest it, think before you act in future.”
“Oh, I will, I will! I’ll think for hours. But why would you say we’d be fighting for our lives? Who with?”
“The Khans and their Arabits, of course. Who else?”
“Ambrose! d’ye mean we might be besieged here—actually a siege—and have adventures, like the ladies who were carried off into Ethiopia? Why, you talked as if ’twas a punishment bringing me up here, and sure I’d rather be here than any other place in the world!”
He looked at her hopelessly. “Sometimes I really despair of you, my dear. But most of those ladies’ husbands had been killed, if I remember rightly, so perhaps that’s the reason—— No, pray! it is too hot for demonstrations of such fervour. I beg your pardon—— There!”
Thus rudely checked in throwing herself upon him again, Eveleen dropped back upon the couch. “It’s no use!” she said in a small miserable voice. “Whatever I do—nothing will please you. And you say these cruel things, breaking my heart entirely. What will I do? what can I do?” she faced him fiercely. “And I’d lie down and let you walk over me if ’twould give you a moment’s pleasure! Will you tell me what I’ll do? Don’t sit there like a graven image with the toothache and look at me as if I was off my head!”
“Sometimes I think you are!” the words were on Richard’s lips, but some feeling of compunction made him choke them back. He had the advantage over his wife that he did not always say what he thought. But he looked physically and mentally exhausted as he lifted his hand slowly. “Pray, my dear! But the fault is mine. I should not have kept you up here so long. You are overstrained; I fear an attack of fever.” She gazed at him in astonishment, almost suspicion. “If you really wish to please me——”
“Oh, I do, I do!” she assured him fervently.
“Then you will go down the river by the next steamer. I asked Gibbons t’other day whether his wife would receive you in her bungalow at Bab-us-Sahel, and he assures me she’ll welcome you heartily. There in the sea-breezes you will recover your calmness of mind—I trust.”
“But sure I don’t know Mrs Gibbons!” with dilated eyes.
“What does that matter? She is an excellent woman, most kind and motherly—everybody’s friend.”
“But what will I do there?”
“My dear, how can I say? What do other ladies do? Engage in useful and elegant feminine occupations, I presume. You will be able to show me the results——”
“But d’ye mean you won’t be there?”
“How could I? My work keeps me here. But I shall—er—hope to pay you a visit—perhaps more than one——”
“Major Ambrose,” tragically, “will you never under stand that I didn’t marry you and come to India to be poked away in other people’s bungalows like a bit of old furniture? Why, if ’twas only to torment you——”
“It don’t occur to you, my dear, that I might desire a little respite? That’s a joke!” he added hurriedly.
“You may well say so! Are y’ not ashamed of yourself?”
“I admit I ought to be. Here I suggest going to considerable trouble, and some expense, to establish you in comfort away from this place, where no European female could exist when the hot weather is at its height, and you receive it as an insult. What more can I say?” He rose.
Eveleen was after him in a moment, twisting him round to face her. “Ah, now, don’t you know that when you speak to me like that you can turn my heart in your fingers? Sure I’m the most reasonable being in the world if you’ll only remember to consult me before making these grand arrangements of yours instead of after!”
“Indeed!” drily. “And is there any likelihood that you would fall in with ’em?”
“Not the slightest! But I’m doing it now.”