“But the plan?” asked Cecil. “Where are we going now?”
“I was just telling you, dear. As I said, I took the law into my own hands. I saw the captain of the steamer, and I put the whole affair before him. Sometimes, you know, honesty is really the best policy. I said to him, ‘Captain Wheen, you are a sailor’—that flattered him, because of course his voyages are all confined to the river—‘and I want your help in a very delicate matter. You may have heard that my cousin, Dr Egerton, is ordered down to Bandr Abbas to help with the cholera there. Now he is engaged to the young lady they call Mdlle. Antaza, at the Palace, the Pasha’s English governess, and it will break her heart if he goes without saying good-bye to her.’ I could see that Captain Wheen was very much touched; but he pretended he wasn’t, and said very gruffly, ‘I can’t delay the sailing of the Seleucia for any Pasha or Resident’s lady on earth.’ I said, ‘Captain Wheen, I am sure you know that I would not on any account have you break your rules, or get into trouble with your owners. What I want to say is this. Dr Egerton was to start to-morrow for a little shooting at Takht-Iskandar, and his things were all sent there early to-day before we heard of this. Now I ask you, would it be possible for you to stop off Takht-Iskandar and allow him and his servant to go on shore for an hour or two, to pack up the things and bring them on board? That would give me time to send a note to the Palace, and come out to Takht-Iskandar.’ ‘I can’t do that,’ he said. ‘You see, if we took to letting passengers go on shore where they liked to fetch more luggage, it would sink the ship at last, besides doubling the length of the voyage; but I can tell you this, ma’am, in confidence—the engines of the Seleucia are wonderfully cranky. Now if anything was to go wrong with those engines, and we had to lie-to for an hour or so to set it right, I shouldn’t wonder if it was to happen just off Takht-Iskandar, and then of course the doctor might go on shore and fetch his togs. Now there’s just that chance, ma’am, and it would never surprise me if it was to happen. Engines are queer things,’ and I believe he winked at me. That was all that I could get out of him; but it did what I wanted, so I settled matters with Charlie. He was to make as long a business of his packing as he possibly could, and I was to bring you out to say good-bye to him. I didn’t know how to reach you, for I was afraid they wouldn’t admit me at the Palace; but I thought a note might get in. So I sent it off; but I don’t think it would ever have got to you if Um Yusuf hadn’t met her cousin in the bazaar and loitered talking to her.”
“But why do you think there would have been any difficulty?” asked Cecil.
“My dear, is it possible you don’t see that this is all a plot? There is some deep purpose behind these extraordinary events, and the only purpose I can conceive is that of separating you and Charlie. You tell me that Azim Bey dislikes him, and I can quite believe that he is capable of very strong childish jealousy. Mind, I don’t think he managed all the details. There is some older and wilier person behind—possibly the Um-ul-Pasha or Jamileh Khanum. At any rate, Azim Bey had taken his precautions very carefully, and if he had not been summoned away the note would never have got to you, and Charlie would have gone without your even saying good-bye to him. So, my dear, be thankful.”
“Oh, Lady Haigh!” remonstrated Cecil. She could say no more: the blow was too sudden, too dreadful. She rode along in silence, while Lady Haigh poured forth stores of comfortless comfort, and adjured her to be cheerful when she met Charlie. Cheerful! the very word was a mockery. The gloomy unsettled skies and muddy plain seemed to accord better with her mood than did Lady Haigh’s philosophy. They were approaching Takht-Iskandar now, and everything looked sad and sodden. All the glory of the white and pink and purple fruit-blossom was gone, and little green fruits alone represented the promise of a month ago. The palace, always flimsy and dilapidated-looking, was sorely battered and damaged by the storm of yesterday, and the trees were beaten down and in many cases stripped of their leaves. The riders approached softly along the sandy road, and paused at the corner of the house, where Mr D’Silva left his horse and went on to reconnoitre. Presently he came back, and, helping the two ladies to dismount, led them in at a side-door which was unfastened, and on through various passages and unfurnished rooms until they reached the dining-room, where Charlie, with his Armenian boy Hanna, was engaged in separating his shooting requisites from those of Mr D’Silva—their possessions having been sent on together.
“Well, Charlie,” said Lady Haigh, marching into the room, “doing your guns on this table, are you? Take them away into the smoking-room this instant, Hanna, and finish them there. How long have you been here, Charlie?”
“Hours, Cousin Elma,” groaned Charlie, with Cecil’s hands locked in his.
“Then you had better go back to the Seleucia at once,” said Lady Haigh, promptly.
“One hour, ten minutes, milady,” put in Hanna, as he carried off the guns.
“Then you can have half an hour, Charlie—not a moment more, and even that is trading on Captain Wheen’s kindness in a most shameful way. Mr D’Silva, if you will be so kind as to see that no one interrupts us for half an hour, we shall be eternally grateful to you. We can trust you for that, I think?”