2
"I've instructed the wallah to drive to your hotel by a longer route," Euan Kerth drawled, and Trent wondered how he was ever baffled by such a simple make-up; it was the drooping eyelid, he decided, and the absence of the waxed mustache.
"I want time to talk," Kerth explained. "Also, I'll take this opportunity to return a piece of your property."
One slender hand emerged from under his clothing and extended an object that gleamed softly in the semi-dark, an object that caused the blood to leap into Trent's temples and throb there for a moment of sheer excitement.
For it was the silver-chased piece of coral that had twice been stolen from him.
"Too, I want to tell you," Kerth went on, "that your pretty cobra friend lied to you."
"Sarojini?"
Kerth nodded. "Most gloriously," he emphasized. "Look inside the locket—or whatever it is—and you'll see."
Again Trent felt the blood in his temples. But his hand was calm as he pressed a fingernail under the rim and opened the pendant. He bent low; peered intently. He made no exclamation as he saw the name that was engraved within—but his breathing quickened. He snapped the oval shut and sat with it gripped in his hand. The blood was still beating in his temples.
"As I told you," resumed Kerth, "Gilbert Leroux, the name that's written there, was Chavigny's last alias. Therefore, when Sarojini said he had nothing to do with the Order, she lied. And if she lied once, she's likely to do it again. Fact is, I don't trust her. I have a reason to believe she isn't playing the game just right."
"Yes?" Trent encouraged, while the name in the pendant sang itself in his ears with the roll of the carriage wheels.
"I'll have to be rather personal," was the slow statement; "embarrassingly so, I fear. Nevertheless, it's better that you know I know. Before I left Benares I sent a telegram to a friend, the Commissioner at Jehelumpore—you see, I knew you were stationed there at one time—asking if he knew whether—whether you and Sarojini Nanjee—well—"
He paused. Trent, smiling to himself, said: "Go on."
"When I reached Calcutta I received a letter from him by special post," Kerth continued. "He told me the whole story.... That's all. And for that reason—and because she lied about Chavigny—I believe you should be wary of her. Balked affection is an unruly mount to straddle, and when a woman plans to make a fool of a man because he doesn't pay her any attention, and the man by his wits turns the affair so that she is the fool—well, I'll say only that she's likely to cause trouble, especially if she has a Rajput strain in her blood."
Quiet followed. They rolled on toward the hotel. Trent was the first to speak.
"Just how did you do this?"—with a gesture that conveyed more than the speech.
In the semi-dark, unobserved, Kerth smiled.
"Oh, it was easy enough," he drawled. "I determined to have a look at the instructions you received at Sarojini Nanjee's house, there in Benares. I didn't quite fancy the way she gave in to your request to take me along. When we returned to the hotel, I left you for a few minutes, if you recall. During that time I filled an envelope with blank paper, then went to your room and while we were talking, under the pretense of getting a match from your tunic, I exchanged envelopes."
"And you returned it that night?" Trent put in, with a smile.
"Yes, I was your nocturnal visitor. I left on an express for Calcutta that night. When I got there I haunted the environs of the old mandarin's establishment. The night you called I hid in the court—back of the house and just behind the room where you two were talking.... Oh, it was easy enough," he repeated.
"What about this?" Trent inquired, indicating the pendant.
"I intended to take a look through your cabin, on general principles, the first night out—and I happened along just as your servant and that other fellow staged their shindy outside your state-room. When you went on deck, I seized the opportunity. I found the pendant under the pillow and took it because I wanted to study the design—and—well, for other reasons, too. I didn't discover the Chavigny alias until later."
"I had the captain search the steerage passengers for it," Trent said.
Kerth laughed. "I know you did—and I caused an inoffensive, fangless cobra to go to his Nirvana by hiding the thing in his gullet. I would have spoken to you on shipboard, but I was afraid of hidden eyes."
That explained the theft of the pendant on the Manchester (thus Trent to himself), but who took it the first time, in Benares? Kerth was evidently ignorant of that. Guru Singh was the key to the riddle, and he silently cursed himself for having released him.
"What did you learn about the design?" he pressed on.
"A little," Kerth returned carelessly. "I spent this afternoon at the Bernard Library looking up all sorts of deities. The one on the piece of coral is Janesseron, the Three-eyed God of Thunder—a Tibetan god." Then, after a pause: "There may be some significance in the fact that the symbol of the Order is a Tibetan deity, and then, there may not. I've formed a theory, and unless I'm greatly mistaken, you and I have a neat little sprint before we reach the so-called City of the Falcon. And if this city is where I believe it is, why, we.... But I'm anticipating. Anyway, I haven't the time to pawn off my theories upon you. I simply wished to let you know I wasn't in Bombay, and to return the piece of coral."
Another pause before he ventured:
"I suppose you're not at liberty to tell me how you came into possession of that?"—with a motion of his slim hand toward the pendant.
Trent considered, then replied, "Why, yes." And he told of finding Manlove in the ruined temple at Gaya. When he had finished, Kerth whistled softly.
"So!" he commented. "Chavigny at Gaya—but wait! When did I track him to the native serai in Delhi?" He was silent for a moment. "It was Friday," he resumed, "no, Saturday—I remember now. And what day was Captain Manlove murdered?... Monday—the twentieth? You see, then, that Chavigny would have had time to reach Gaya; but how in flaming Tophet did he get out of Delhi? You remember I told you I found blood-stains in his room at the serai.... Hmm. This is a complication. D'ye suppose Chavigny made a mistake—thought Manlove you? Yet why the deuce should he want to put you out of the way?"
A lengthy space of silence followed. Kerth took up the conversation.
"I haven't the slightest idea why you went to that joss-house to-night; however, I'm glad I followed and"—he smiled—"saved one of the eyes of the empire."
"And I'm rather glad you followed, too"—this from Trent drily. "I sha'n't forget. I went there to meet a...." Followed a short description of Hsien Sgam, the Mongol, and an explanation of Trent's purpose at the House of the Golden Joss. Again, as he finished, Kerth whistled.
"Complication upon complication! D 'ye suppose he's one of the Order? I remember seeing him on the boat. What's his object in attempting to murder you? It's obvious that that was his purpose."
"I can't somehow adjust him with the Order," returned Trent. "He seems above that. He's capable of villainy all right—rather exquisite villainy, I imagine—but I can't associate him with thievery and stolen jewels.... Did you see the face of the fellow who tried to kill me?"
Kerth nodded. "It was the priest who took you to that room. Oh, he was shrewd—or rather, the one who directed him! He had a maxim silencer on the revolver; and if I had been two seconds later, you would have had a steel morsel lodged somewhere between your chest and stomach. I didn't dare waste time to explain there; I was afraid there might be others, and two white men in a heathen prayer-house would have as much chance as a pair of bats in hades!" Kerth glanced ahead. "We'll be at your hotel in a few minutes," he announced, "and your shadow might be there, so I think I'll make my exit now. I'm leaving Rangoon to-morrow noon, as I daresay you are, too. I'll manage somehow to see you at Myitkyina."
He thrust one foot out of the gharry, upon the step, and stood there a moment, the reflection from passing lamps upon his stained features. He was smiling his satanic smile—a rather impudent, careless expression.
"I think I shall pay another visit to the House of the Golden Joss," he said. "What you have told me of this Hsien Sgam interests me in him. Good luck, major!"
With a wave of his hand he swung down and disappeared in the street.