In the foyer, where His Excellency lingered for a few moments chatting with his habitual courtesy to the director of the opera house, General Sanois, whose policy was to strike while the iron was hot, seized on the opportunity to draw Carew aside and ask point blank for the information that had been promised during dinner. They were still talking when they went out to the waiting carriages. The Governor paused with his foot on the step of his victoria and beamed affectionately at the two tall men towering beside him.
“You are going on to the Club—for a little game of bridge, perhaps?” he enquired genially.
“The Club—yes. Bridge—no,” replied the General bluntly. “Carew and I have some business to discuss.”
The Governor cast his eyes heavenwards. “Business at this time of night—grand Dieu!” he ejaculated. “Cards I could understand, but business—” he shook his head despairingly. “You are incorrigible—and this good Carew who encourages you! Go and talk your business, my friends. For me, I have had an exhausting day, a very exhausting day. I shall go home to bed—at a reasonable hour for once in my life. It has been a charming evening, a charming evening. My thanks to you both.” And smiling and bowing he fluttered into the victoria and drove away.
As Carew’s carriage moved into place General Sanois, who had accepted his offer of a lift, shot a glance of faint surprise at the two mounted Arabs who were drawn up close behind it.
“You ride en prince, tonight, my friend,” he said, frankly curious. And Carew who had himself only at that moment noticed the men, shrugged with mingled amusement and annoyance. The idea of an escort would never have occurred to him, but Hosein was evidently determined his master should run no risk that forethought could prevent.
“It would seem so,” he replied curtly, “but you must blame Hosein, not me, for this piece of theatrical nonsense.”
The General settled his angular frame into a corner of the carriage and hitched his sword between his knees. “He probably has his reasons,” he said, with a shrewd smile that left Carew wondering how much he knew and how far his own steps were dogged by the secret police whose activities extended over a wider district than was generally known. But he let the comment pass unanswered. The General was his very good friend, but with Sanois, friendship went by the board where the needs of the country were concerned and even his most trusted agents were subjected to an espionage that was all part of an elaborate and well-organized system. He stuck at nothing to obtain information he wanted and maintained that any means justified a desired end. That he was intrigued by Carew’s visit to the Casbar today was obvious but he was restricted from openly voicing his curiosity by a compact that had been agreed between them years ago. Though he knew, and had good cause to know that Carew was whole-heartedly attached to the land of his adoption, he knew also that the Englishman was governed by scruples that debarred him from certain lines of action. Tonight Carew felt convinced that the General was on the track of something other than the information he had been promised and, for his part, he was equally determined to disclose nothing but the matter in hand. Though his host of the afternoon might have been guilty of certain indiscretions that had put him out of favour with the Government his own visit to the Casbar had been a purely personal one—and it could rest at that.
The Military Club was full when they arrived and it was some time before the two men could find a quiet corner in which to continue the conversation they had begun in the foyer of the opera house.
Ordering coffee the General produced the map that seemed to live permanently in the inside pocket of his tunic and spread it out on the table between them. For an hour or more they talked uninterruptedly, and when at last General Sanois pushed back his chair with a little grunt of satisfaction, the club had emptied of all but a small number of inveterate card players whose voices echoed fitfully from an adjoining room.