“Highness,” said a voice at Dick’s elbow, before Georgia could answer, and they both turned to see Chanda Lal, who had mounted the steps noiselessly with his bare feet, standing beside them, “there is another old man in the court, wrapped up in a mantle, and he says he is the Grand Vizier, Fath-ud-Din. He asks to see the burra sahib, and he will not be turned away.”
“Good gracious!” cried Dick. “We shall have all Kubbet-ul-Haj here before long. It only wants the King and Rustam Khan to make things lively. But if Fath-ud-Din meets Jahan Beg, there’ll be murder done. Miss Keeling, while I go and parley with this old wretch, do you mind warning the Chief to get rid of Jahan Beg? I shouldn’t wonder if we have to let him down through a window into the street behind, for it won’t do for him to pass through the courtyard.”
He ran down the steps, and Georgia hurried to Sir Dugald’s private office, where she found him in earnest confabulation with Jahan Beg. The state of affairs was quickly explained, and Stratford hastened the visitor away to the back of the house. Here, when the new-comer was safely closeted with Sir Dugald, Dick joined him, and together they succeeded in letting Jahan Beg down into the lane, where he alighted softly on a convenient rubbish-heap, and whence he made the best of his way home.
It was not until the rest of the party were thinking of going to bed that Sir Dugald was able to get rid of his visitor and return to the terrace. He smiled grimly as he glanced at the expectant faces which awaited him.
“The worthy Fath-ud-Din has prepared a very pretty little plot,” he said, “which is meant to remove both Jahan Beg and Rustam Khan from his path, and we are expected to help.”
“We shall get into trouble,” remarked Lady Haigh, oracularly, “if all the conspirators in Kubbet-ul-Haj make this house a rendezvous when they want to plot against one another.”
“We shall,” agreed Sir Dugald; “and it is a mystery to me what these good people see in our faces that leads them to think we shall be willing to forward their schemes. I suppose it is only natural that Bigg should wish to utilise us as a means of getting his son-in-law acknowledged as heir to the throne; but I did not expect Fath-ud-Din. It seems that he has for a long time suspected Jahan Beg of being an Englishman, and the suspicion became a certainty yesterday, owing to his ostentatious lack of interest in our entry. Jahan Beg thought that his bearing showed how patriotic an Ethiopian he had become; but Fath-ud-Din argued that such disregard of such a show could only be due to his having often seen similar sights before.”
“I hope you taxed Fath-ud-Din with being an Englishman on the same grounds,” said Lady Haigh.
“Certainly not,” replied Sir Dugald. “You forget that he was ill. His illness may have been diplomatic and momentary; but it has to be accepted as a fact. Well, Hicks supplied the next link in the chain. It seems that Fath-ud-Din granted him the interview which Jahan Beg refused, and in the course of conversation asked him casually what he would think if he heard that a solitary Englishman had lived in Ethiopia disguised for years. Hicks replied, as most men would naturally do, that he should conclude he had done something which had made British territory too hot to hold him, and had run away from fear of the law. That struck Fath-ud-Din as a bright idea, and he came to tell me of his suspicions, and to suggest that I should invite the King to give up Jahan Beg as an escaped criminal. He assured me that he and his party would give me all possible support, which I could well believe; and he let out that he anticipated that Rustam Khan would be involved in his father-in-law’s downfall. That would leave the way clear for Antar Khan, to whom Fath-ud-Din hopes to marry his daughter. A suitable bakhshish was also understood, and in return for these various boons, Fath-ud-Din would be good enough to further the objects of the Mission, and guarantee its success.”
“And I hope you kicked him down the steps?” said Lady Haigh.