After his social duties of the afternoon he had paid a hurried visit to Beaumanoir House to arrange for the Duke's departure in company with his new secretary, and then, armed with credentials from the Duke and heralded by a preparatory telegram, he had proceeded to the Hertfordshire seat by an earlier train. He had good reasons for traveling separately. And now the carriage which he had sent to the little wayside station of Tarrant Road two miles off was overdue, and the General was beginning to chafe.
"I hope I haven't been too cocksure," he muttered, under his close-trimmed gray mustache. "I pinned my faith to Alec's company securing the fellow's safety on the journey at least."
He took another turn, and then, striking a vesta, looked at his watch. It was twenty minutes to eleven, whereas if those he expected had caught the 8.45 from St. Pancras, the carriage should have been back half an hour ago. He had hardly finished this calculation when from behind a gigantic vase on the plinth of the steps leading to the lower level of the gardens there sounded the hiss of a cobra, thrice repeated.
"Azimoolah?" said the General, softly.
His faithful servitor glided forward, almost invisible in the shabby blue tunic which had replaced the spotless white garments of Grosvenor Gardens.
"A queer orderly-room, sahib, but not more so than some we wot of in the by-ways of the Deccan," he whispered, glancing up at the loom of the great mansion. "Well, I have done thy bidding, and have secured a lodging in the village as a poor vendor of Oriental trifles. Furthermore, I have already done some good police work."
"You have discovered that there are strangers dwelling in the place?"
"Not so, sahib; but they have been seen in the village," was the reply. "The woman with whom I have hired shelter says that two men, professing to be painters, were in the park all day painting the trees and the deer, for which purpose they had obtained permission of the steward. Whence the men came the woman did not know, but they drove in in a dog-cart on the St. Albans road."
"Your informant could not tell you if the picture was finished—whether the men were coming again?" the General asked quickly.
It was too dark to see the Pathan's face, but a ring in his carefully managed undertone told of pride in the answer: