“The order shall be sent immediately,” said the Pasha, and he called Ovannes Effendi from the anteroom. While the necessary directions were being given, Azim Bey crept close to Sir Dugald.
“M. le Balio, you will ask my father to let mademoiselle come back from Sardiyeh now?” he asked, anxiously.
“Certainly not,” replied Sir Dugald, emphatically. “I am most thankful to think that Miss Anstruther is out of the way for the present. I shall not advise her to return until this matter has been inquired into.”
“Oh, monsieur, but——” began Azim Bey; but Sir Dugald cut him short, and took his leave of the Pasha, requesting to be summoned as soon as M. Karalampi arrived. To Lady Haigh he made as light of the matter as he could, protesting that in Azim Bey’s case he believed that the wish for Charlie’s death was father to the thought, but in his own mind he had very little doubt that the news was true. The mutual dislike of M. Karalampi and Charlie had not escaped his notice, and he felt that it was extremely probable that the Greek had taken the opportunity of carrying out his compact with Azim Bey a little too well. While waiting for him to be arrested and brought down to Baghdad, Sir Dugald collected a good deal of information which corroborated the boy’s account of the intrigue by which Charlie had been driven from his post, and he awaited the arrival of the prisoner with the comfortable conviction that there was very nearly evidence enough to hang him already. But the expected summons to the Palace to confront the accused did not come, and Sir Dugald grew impatient. At last he went himself to speak to the Pasha on the subject, but in the anteroom he was seized upon by Azim Bey.
“Oh, M. le Balio, you would not come, and I could not go to see you. He has been here, and my father has let him go again.”
“Who? Karalampi?” cried Sir Dugald. “Tell me what you mean.”
They sat down on the divan, and Azim Bey poured his tale into the Balio’s ear. How M. Karalampi had arrived, all unconscious of the reason for the summons, from his post in the mountains, and had found himself accused of plotting Dr Egerton’s murder. How he had protested his innocence, and had promised to bring proofs of it, if he were allowed to go back to the mountains with an escort and penetrate into the Kurdish fastnesses. How the Pasha had demurred to this, but had yielded on M. Karalampi’s declaring that otherwise he would make a clean breast of everything to the Balio Bey, and involve Jamileh Khanum in his disclosures. This was the only card he had to play, but, thanks to the Pasha’s agonised desire to prevent scandal, it was successful, and he was allowed to depart, under strict supervision. Sir Dugald listened with lowering brow, and when the recital was ended he rose from his seat with a fixed resolve to see the Pasha and thresh the matter out with him, but Azim Bey was still clinging to his arm.
“Oh, M. le Balio, bring mademoiselle back. They are keeping her in prison there at Sardiyeh, and it is only this—the death of Dr Egerton—that has made her ill.”
“What? she knows already? and the poor girl is all alone up there!” cried Sir Dugald, and he strode into the Pasha’s presence with a frown which made his Excellency tremble. His demand that Cecil should be sent for was at once granted, and an escort despatched to bring her from Sardiyeh to Baghdad. But Sir Dugald had been forestalled. The news of what had been happening had reached the harem, and had caused a vast amount of commotion there, together with much coming and going of Mdlle. Katrina, imperfectly disguised in a voluminous sheet, between her mistress and M. Karalampi, during the short time that he spent in the city. The result was that an order had been sent to Sardiyeh, which reached it two days before the Pasha’s.