Desmond’s heart leaped. Was Mortimer’s the guiding hand of this network of conspiracy?
“I’ve trusted you, Monsieur,” Nur-el-Din continued in a pleading voice, “you will respect the laws of hospitality, and hide me from this man. You will not give me up! Promise it, my friend?”
Desmond felt strangely moved. Was this a callous murderess, a hired spy, who, with her great eyes brimming over with tears, entreated his protection so simply, so appealingly?
“I promise I will not give you up to him, Mademoiselle!” he said and hated himself in the same breath for the part he had to play. Then he left her still standing by the table, lost in thought.
Desmond walked through the hall to the room in which he had found Nur-el-Din asleep on his arrival. His nerves were strung up tight for the impending encounter with this Mortimer, whoever, whatever he was. Desmond did not hesitate on the threshold of the room. He quietly opened the door and walked in.
A man in a black and white check suit with white gaiters stood on the hearthrug, his hands tucked behind his back. He had a curiously young-old appearance, such as is found in professors and scientists of a certain type. This suggestion was probably heightened by the very strong spectacles he wore, which magnified his eyes until they looked like large colored marbles. He had a heavy curling moustache resembling that affected by the late Lord Randolph Churchill. There was a good deal of mud on his boots, showing that he had come on foot.
The two men measured one another in a brief but courteous glance. Desmond wondered what on earth this man’s profession was. He was quite unable to place him.
“Mr. Bellward?” said Mortimer, in a pleasant cultivated voice, “I am pleased to have this opportunity of meeting you personally.”
Desmond bowed and muttered something conventional. Mortimer had put out his hand but Desmond could not nerve himself to take it. Instead he pushed forward a chair.
“Thanks,” said Mortimer sitting down heavily, “I’ve had quite a walk across the fen. It’s pleasant out but damp! I suppose you didn’t get my letter?”