EPISODE VII
THE WATCHING EYE
"What shall I do?" I asked myself as I read a letter from Maida.
She begged a small and simple service, yet--I hesitated.
Roger Odell had begged me to look after her as well as I could in thecircumstances, during his long absence. Those circumstances weredifficult ones: for I was not allowed to visit her at the SisterhoodHouse, and she never went out unchaperoned by her "friend" thedirectress. Her wish was that I should give her the key of her"sanctum" at Roger Odell's shut-up house in New York. A caretakernamed Winter, one of the old servants, was in charge of the place; butI had been appointed special guardian of the "shrine," as Maida calledthis sacred room.
"Shrine" was indeed rather an appropriate name; since it containedtreasures which formed the sole link between the girl and her lostpast. She had been brought, a child of four, by her dying mother tothe father of Roger Odell, and her sole possessions had been a coupleof miniatures, a curious Egyptian fetish, and an Egyptian mummy in afine, painted mummy-case. The miniatures had been enlarged intolife-size portraits of Maida's mother and a man in the uniform of aBritish officer, whom she believed to be her father. Both portraitshung on the wall of the "shrine," together with one of Roger Odell,Senior. These, with the mummy-case, were the sole contents of the room.
Roger and I had cause to think that enemies of Maida's unknown fatherhad followed the child and her mother to America: and that the vendettawould not end until Maida--the last of the family--had paid with herhappiness or even with her life for the sin of some ancestor. We hadcause to think also, that the mummy in its painted case was ofimportance to them, and that they had tried in various ways to get holdof it. For its protection, Roger had had a clever electricalcontrivance fitted up, by means of which anyone not in the secret andtrying to touch the mummy-case would receive a violent shock. Beforegoing away he had given me the plan of this mechanism, with directionsfor applying the current and turning it off. At the same time he hadhanded me the key of the shrine which Maida had left with him ondeparting for Long Island.
Now, she wanted this key.
"I went yesterday to my dear old home," she wrote, "to visit mytreasures. But the shrine was locked; and Winter told me that Rogerhad given you the key. He said also that there was some kind of patentburglar alarm which had frightened a couple of thieves away, since Icame to stay at Sisterhood House. Is that true? And is there dangerin opening the door? I know I can depend upon you, when you send thekey, to make it safe for me to go in. I'll post the key to youafterwards, if you like--and if Roger wants you still to be troubledwith it. Please arrange for me to pay my visit to-morrow."
It seemed that there was only one way to answer this letter: by sayingthat I would arrange for the safety of the visit; and enclosing the keyin my note. Nevertheless I hesitated. I was afraid to send Maida thekey.
It was useless to explain to her the reasons for my seemingboorishness. She trusted the Head Sister. Nothing that had happenedsince she entered the Grey Sisterhood had opened the girl's eyes to thecruel falseness of the woman, as I saw it. Nothing, not even theaffair of Helen Hartland, had made her believe that the friend sherespected was one of the agents working for her destruction and myelimination. So I knew that if I refused the key I would seem a stupidblunderer to Maida.
"If only she'd waited a few days!" I thought. For after manyunsuccessful attempts, we (I and Paul Teano) had contrived to get anemployee--I may as well use the word "spy"--into Sisterhood House. Shewas a young but singularly intelligent girl whom Teano's wife, onceknown as "Three Fingered Jenny," had lately rescued from a set ofpickpockets and "sneak thieves." We hoped great things from "NippyNance," as a protegee of the Head Sister, who did not suspect thegirl's change of heart and profession. If she could get evidence thatthe directress of the Grey Sisterhood was the leader of a criminalgang, posing as a charitable reformer, I could not only say "I told youso!" to the incredulous police, but I could convince Maida of her ownperil.
A few days more grace, and Nance might have been able to give us asatisfactory report! But I dared not delay. I had to decide, forMaida's letter must be answered. My desire to please her prevailedover prudence. I persuaded myself that I had no right to refuse such arequest: that I must consent: that my vague fears were foolish. I hadonly to watch, and see that no harm came to Maida or to the mummy inits painted case.
I wrote that, in loyalty to the promise I had made Roger (made for hersake!) I couldn't leave the shrine without its "patent burglarprotection" (as she called it) over night: but I would go to the houseearly in the morning and do everything necessary to ensure her safetyif she wished to touch or open the mummy-case.
"I know if you had been willing to see me there, you would havesuggested my meeting you at the house," I went on. "As you haven't, Idaren't ask to be present: but I'll be in New York and at the BelmontHotel all day, expecting a word. Will you call me up, or if not, willyou send a line by messenger to say at what hour I shall go round againto make the "shrine" burglar proof? I enclose the key: and perhaps youwill leave it for me with the caretaker."
Maida's letter had come to the Long Island hotel. I sent my answerfrom there by hand to Sisterhood House, where it would be taken in by alay sister at the gate. The boy was ordered to wait for a reply, ifreply there were, but I thought it unlikely Maida would answer so soon.I fancied she would consult the Head Sister, and that a response wouldbe delayed till the last minute. I was mistaken, however. Mymessenger presently came back with a letter.
It was sweet, and full of gratitude for the "trouble" I was taking. "Iam 'willing' to see you," she quoted. "I'm more than willing! I shallbe glad to see you. I have _permission_ to do so. Will you call atRoger's house about two o'clock? I don't know what time I shallarrive; perhaps much earlier; but I promise not to leave until I've hada talk with you. I'll tell Winter to show you into Roger's study towait. I shall have a companion. But it's just possible I may begranted a few minutes alone with my brother's best friend!"
This made me happier than I had been since the night when I fell inlove with Maida. Nevertheless, I didn't forget the need to watchRoger's house, from the moment that the "shrine" and the mummy-casewere released from their patent protection. Not that I distrustedMaida. I believed in her as I believed in Heaven. But she might bedeceived: and it was my business to guard her interests.
I went to the house, as I had agreed to do, early in the morning, andnot only switched off the electric current which protected the shrineand its contents day and night, but removed the small visible parts ofthe apparatus in case someone had the intention of studying themechanism. I informed Winter that he might expect Miss Odell with oneof the ladies from the Grey Sisterhood, and that I would return at twoo'clock. I then went back to the hotel where I stayed when in NewYork, for I could not bear to do the necessary spying myself. A manfrom Teano's agency was engaged to watch the house, and 'phoneinstantly if anyone other than the ladies in grey uniform entered; alsoif one or both of these ladies went away.
No message came: and a little before two o'clock I arrived at the door.My man, disguised as a member of the "white wings" brigade, was visiblein the distance. I gave the signal agreed upon to mean "You can go!"and went, as arranged, into Roger's study at the back of the house,Winter having told me that "the ladies were upstairs."
I waited for half an hour; for three quarters: and then, growinganxious, sought the caretaker, who had pottered down into the basement.He was surprised at my question. "Why, I thought the ladies was bothin the library with you!" he stammered. "I was in the hall, where youtold me to wait. They came down and said they were going to talk toyou. Miss Maida's friend, the lady with the thick veil, had a telegramto send. She asked me to take it, and gave me something for myself. Isupposed it was all right when I got back just now, to stop in myquarters for a bit, as the lady said they'd be staying some time."
What a fool I had been to think, becau
se I had arrived on the scene,that it was safe to send the watcher away! It was my trust of Maidathat had undone me. I had believed so blindly in her promise not to gowithout seeing me, that I had thought all danger of a trick was over.I hadn't reflected that the enemy was clever enough to trick her at thelast minute, as well as me!
I dashed upstairs to the "shrine" found the door open and themummy-case gone! This was the worst blow that could fall, because,once the mummy-case was actually in the hands of those who had schemedto get it, every hope of Maida's safety seemed to vanish. In thestreet, I could find no one who had seen the great painted box carriedfrom the house or taken away in any vehicle. Next, I inquired at thehouses adjoining, and opposite, with no better luck: but in the shameand confusion which obscured my mind, it appeared probable that theSisterhood car had taken ladies and mummy-case as swiftly as possibleto the Sisterhood House.
My own car was under repair, and I had been spinning round New York ina taxi. Now, I returned for a moment to my hotel, in the desperatehope of a message from Maida. There was nothing: but as I was hurryingout, I met Teano.
"Hurrah, my lord!" he exclaimed. "What luck to catch you like this! Ithought perhaps you'd have got back from Mr. Odell's house by thistime, but if you hadn't I was going round to find you. Is the younglady all right?"
"Why do you ask?" I caught him up.
"Because Nance is at our flat. She had leave for the afternoon--thefirst time she's got off: a sign they trust her. She's got a report,my lord. It's a blood-curdler!"
"Take me to your place and let me hear it," I said, reflecting that itwould be stupid to flash off to Long Island, when Nance's news mightsave a wild goose chase. At worst, I should lose but a few minutes.And taxying to Teano's, I told him in a few words what a mess I'd madeof things.
"They won't have gone back to Long Island," he said excitedly. "You'llunderstand when you hear Nance and perhaps you'll have some theory."
Nance--a sharp-faced midget who would make as good a thief-catcher asshe had been a thief--was proud of her achievement. She was on the wayto get proof of the Sisterhood's secret. A girl had half confided inher, and had stopped in fright; but Nance expected to prove soon thatthe Grey Sisterhood was a "regular gang," associated with "high upones" in New York. "There's a big boss over the whole shebang," shesaid, "but he's made a bolt. I don't know where--but I'll find out. Iguess he's jumped the country; and I guess m'lady o' the mask (that'swhat we calls the Head Sister behind her back: we all know she wearssomethin' under her veil to hide a beauty spot) will be joinin' him.She's been sort o' gatherin' things together as if for a flit, theselast two days, but I couldn't make a break to get word to you."
Nance had more to tell, but nothing which directly concerned Maida. Wecould only draw our own deductions that the Head Sister wouldn't "flit"unless she could take the girl. Because Doctor Rameses had foundAmerica too hot for him after his last plot against me, no doubt thedirectress of the Grey Sisterhood had been waiting her chance to playRuth to his Boaz.
She had now accomplished her great coup, in securing the mummy-casewhich interested Rameses; and if she'd been able to force or wheedleMaida into breaking faith with me, she could force or wheedle her tothe ends of the world.
"Egypt!" I said aloud, as if the word had been spoken in my ear, and Iechoed it. "These devils want to get the girl to Egypt and finish thevendetta that began there. What ships sail to-day?"
We learned that one was leaving for Bordeaux, and another for Naples.Both had been due to sail in the morning, but had been delayed, owingto the strict inspection of cargo. Some lively telephoning followed,but we could get no information from the agents concerning suchpassengers as we described. Nance was ordered back post-haste toSisterhood House in case, contrary to our theory, the pair hadreturned. Teano sent a man to the ship sailing for France; and Imyself started for the one Naples-bound, the night luggage I'd broughtfrom Long Island on my taxi. I had a mission from my Government, whichI served during my convalescence, and I had no right to leave withoutpermission. But I was ready to sacrifice my whole career, rather thansee Maida sail for Egypt with a cruel and unscrupulous enemy.
I arrived at the dock just in time to see the ship moving out. Indesperation I tried to hire a tug, at no matter what price, to followand board her when she shed her pilot. The thing was impossible. Itwas small consolation to be assured that no such ladies as I describedwere on board. I felt almost certain they were there, in ordinarydress, having changed from the uniform of the Grey Sisterhood. Whenevery effort had failed in this direction, however, there remained halfa hope that they might have been found by Teano's man on the shipstarting for Bordeaux. There was a chance of reaching her before shesteamed out, and that chance I took; but fate was against me again.She had been gone twenty minutes when my taxi rushed me to the wharf."You've missed nothing. They weren't aboard," said the detective, whoawaited my arrival. But how could I be sure that he was right?
The next thing was to cable the police at Naples and Bordeaux: yet sofar we had no definite proof against the Head Sister, who had the luckas well as the ingenuity of her supposed partner, Doctor Rameses. Shecould merely be watched on her arrival at a foreign port, not held: andI dared not even take it firmly for granted that she and Maida had leftAmerica, till Teano's frantic energies should bring further particularsof their movements. I blamed myself for the embroglio: still, I wouldnot say, even in the privacy of my own head, "If I hadn't trusted thegirl so blindly!"
I spent that night in New York, hoping for news from one direction orother: and though it was not till the morning that Teano picked upanything authentic, I had better fortune. A sudden inspiration came asI walked up and down my room, smoking more cigarettes than were goodfor me, and racking my brain for a solution of the puzzle.
"What if Maida left a note for you in the shrine, hoping you'd have thesense to look?" a voice seemed to whisper in my ear.
Instantly I became certain that she had done so. It was past teno'clock, but I jumped into a taxi and flashed back to Roger's house.After pressing the electric bell a dozen times at least, Winterappeared in deshabille, inclined to grumble. I went straight to theviolated shrine, and switched on the electric light in its curiousglobes of golden glass. The portrait of Maida's beautiful mother facedthe door and gazed into my eyes. Never had I quite realised itslikeness to the girl. It was as if Maida looked at me.
"If there's anything, it will be behind that portrait," I thought.Going straight to it, I lifted the heavy gold frame, and a folded pieceof paper fell to the floor. No writing was visible, but I knew I hadfound what I sought.
Opening the note, I had a shock of surprise. The paper had the nameand crest of my New York hotel upon it; and the few lines scrawled inpencil were signed "John Hasle." So well was the writing imitated,that my best friend would have sworn it was mine.
The letter began abruptly (perhaps the forger didn't know how I wasaccustomed to address Maida): "Something has happened. I am sending aclosed automobile to take you away and your friend also. Get her toconsent. It is necessary for the safety of your future. The chauffeurand an assistant will carry down the mummy-case if you ask them. Theyhave my instructions already, and will bring a packing-box in which itcan be placed in the hall downstairs, in order not to be conspicuous.The mummy will no longer be safe where it is. I'll explain when wemeet. I am called away from America at once, on official business, andthe man with the chauffeur knows the ship on which I sail thisafternoon. I beg you will do what he asks, as you may depend on him asmy mouthpiece, and I have time now for no more. Yours ever and inhaste, John Hasle."
Underneath, Maida had scribbled, also in pencil, "Your letter has beenhanded me just outside the door of this house. I don't understand it.Though I suppose it's genuine, so many strange things have happened, Iam a little afraid. If there's any trick, and you come to look for me,I earnestly pray you may find this in time. I shall leave a tiny endof paper showing behind my mother'
s portrait, where I'll hide it."
Rameses I believed to be far away, out of reach: but the assistant hehad left behind was worthy of him. She had reason to know the New Yorkhotel I frequented: the note-paper was easy to get: only the forgerybusiness needed an expert. And what a clever idea that the summonsshould come from me! The Head Sister had known how hard, perhapsimpossible, it would have been to make the girl break her promise. NowI saw why consent had been given to my calling on Maida at herbrother's house. Unconsciously I had been but a catspaw: and had notmy darling girl felt vaguely suspicious, I might never have guessed howshe had been enticed away.
The message told little: but at least it confirmed my theory that thetwo had gone on board ship. How Maida had been induced actually tosail, was another question, but even that might be answered some day.
In the morning, Teano was surprised, instead of receiving word fromNance, to see her in person. She had been sent on an errand fromSisterhood House to the nearest village, and rather than return hadsimply--as she expressed it--"taken French leave." The Head Sister hadgone, leaving everything in charge of a woman next in authority. Theinmates, sisters, lay sisters, and protegees (women and children) weretold that the directress had news of a near relative's illness; she wasobliged to be absent for a few days, perhaps longer. Unless laterinstructions arrived, all was to go on as if she were at home. Nanceknew that the grey automobile used by the Sisters had come back fromNew York with a bundle in it; a bundle composed of two grey uniformcloaks and bonnets with veils. Somehow the two ladies had changedtheir outer garments, probably in that "closed motor" mentioned in theforged letter: and the bundle had been transferred from one car to theother, by the man with the chauffeur, doubtless a servant of the HeadSister.
Nance, prying for other details, had found and pieced together a fewtorn scraps of paper--the remains of a letter--stuck between thebraided wicker-work and ribbon of a waste-paper basket in thedirectress's study. There were three of these bits, the largest nolarger than a child's thumb nail, the smallest not half that size; butpatching them together Teano was able to show me the mutilated words"meet--possible--Cair----"
This strengthened my conviction that the Head Sister, with Maida andMaida's mysterious mummy-case, was on the way to Egypt, where she wouldmeet Rameses in Cairo. The two must have been on board the shipsailing for Naples, in some disguise not easy to penetrate. Idetermined to act on this supposition, explain the circumstances asbest I could to our Ambassador, trying with his aid and, that of thecable, to get leave for Europe. If leave were refused, rather thanabandon Maida to the mercy of her enemies, I would "chuck" the army.Eventually I could volunteer again, when strong enough to serve. Butleave was not refused. My affairs were settled with lightning speed,and I sailed a few days later.
At Naples I got no definite news; but it appeared that, on board thesuspected ship, there had been a number of nurses wearing a navy-blueuniform, with long veils attached to their small bonnets. Most of thenurses wore their veils thrown back, but a few covered their faces onleaving the ship. This gave me a clue--and a hope. The costume of anurse afforded the necessary concealment. I guessed that the HeadSister had adopted it for herself and Maida, and that, through Rameses'influence, she had obtained passports.
No nurses in uniform had, so far as I could learn, lately left Naplesfor Egypt; but with the aid of the police I learned that three daysbefore my arrival a tall, elderly woman, heavily cloaked and veiled,accompanied by a beautiful blonde girl, had sailed for Alexandria.Their papers described them as the wife and daughter of a French doctorin Cairo, and though permission for women to enter Egypt was difficultto obtain from British authorities at that time, they had it.
Whether or no this "Madame and Mademoiselle Rameau" were the HeadSister and Maida Odell, I could not be sure: but in any case mydestination must be Cairo. On arriving there I could hear of no suchperson as Doctor Rameau: but I found army friends: help from "high up"was forthcoming. I learned what non-military persons had travelledduring the last week, and what direction they had taken. Among the fewwomen on the list there were only two who might be those for whom Isearched; and _they were Egyptian ladies_. The sister and aunt of anofficial in Government employ had left Cairo by rail for Asiut, whencethey were to do some days' desert travel, to reach the country housebelonging to their relative.
I determined to follow; and at Asiut I engaged a small caravan. Thelittle oasis-town near which I had been told to find the house was twodays' journey from "The City of Sacred Cats"; and when we reached theplace, the servants of Ahmed Ali Bey were surprised by the questions ofmy interpreter. Their master was in Cairo with his family, and theyhad not been warned of the arrival of visitors. They were discreet andguarded in their answers, after the first moment of blank astonishment:but I realised instantly that the women I had followed from Cairo werenot bound for this place. I had come up against a blank wall, and hadonly my own deductions to go upon. Were the supposed aunt and sisterof Ahmed Ali Bey, Maida and her companion, or had I taken a falsetrail? Something within myself said that I was right as to theiridentity, but that the two (protected by the name of some friend ofDoctor Rameses) had never intended to come to his house. Where, then,should I look for them?
They must, I thought, have come as far as Asiut, otherwise their passeswould not have availed them in these days of military supervision. Butbeyond Asiut the desert stretched wide and mysterious. My only hopelay in the fact that caravans could be tracked, and that there wereonly certain directions in which stopping-places could be found. Mycamel-leader, who spoke a little English, described to me the three orfour routes, one of which all travellers must choose in order to reacha desert inn or "borg" on the way to distant oasis villages or towns.But which should I choose?
In any case, we were obliged to retrace our steps for ten or twelvemiles, as far as a certain well, and there I should have to decidedefinitely. It was late in the afternoon when we reached the spotagain, and a wind which threatened simoom had covered the heart-shapedfootmarks made by our own and other camels, as with a tidal wave. Thesky was overcast, and of a faint copper colour, clouded with greyishveils of blowing sand. The desert was empty, or so I thought at first;but as I turned my field-glasses north, south, east and west, I sawsomething very far off which moved uncertainly towards us. Presently Imade out that this something was a camel, alone, and without pack orrider: yet he must, it seemed, have broken loose from a caravan.
As he came nearer--perhaps sighting us from afar off and wishing forour company--we saw that he was white, or a very pale grey. He was notan ordinary pack-camel, but was of the aristocratic type, a _mehari_,well bred, with graceful swaying movements and long slender legs. Myfirst year in the army I had spent in Egypt, where I'd picked up someArabic and Turkish, and had been enough impressed with the strangenessof native life to remember many customs and superstitions. As thewhite _mehari_ approached, a timid air of wildness mingling with itslonging for society, I realised that it had been a pampered beast, dearto the heart of its vanished owner. Round its neck was an elaboratecollar of beads and shells, with dangling fetishes of all sorts: brassand silver "Hands of Fatma," metal tubes for texts from the Koran,horns of coral and lumps of amber.
It seemed to me that there was something strange about the beast. Itheld its head in a singular way, shaking it from time to time, and mycamel man thought as I thought. "This animal has been looked on by theEvil Eye," he said. "It brings misfortune where it goes. Perhaps ithas had a fit of madness, and how comes to us in a quiet interval, onlyto deceive and then attack us. I have seen such things in the desert.A camel goes mad, kills its master, and seeks other victims for thedemon that has entered into it. I will drive it off."
"No," I said, as the Arab would have threatened the camel with hisstick. "Keep out of the creature's way if you like. I'm going to seeif it will let me touch it."
Very cautiously, in order not to frighten the wild-looking beast, Iurged my own mount a
few steps forward, and held out a handful ofdates. The camel eagerly fixed its eyes on the food and moved towardsme as if magnetised. It stretched its neck so that the queer,purse-like nostrils and loose lips quivered above the dates: ithesitated: in another instant it would have snatched a mouthful had Inot exclaimed aloud at a thing I saw.
Among the tubes and horns and Hands of Fatma hung a gold bangle withthe name "Maida" in emeralds, Madeline Odell's birthstone. Irecognised the ornament at a glance. She wore it always, even with theuniform of the Grey Sisterhood. I knew she had ridden this camel andthat this was her call for help. She had hoped desperately that Imight follow, and feeble as was the chance that I should ever see thebangle, she had snatched it because there was no other.
"Good God!" I cried sharply--and foolishly, for the camel took fright,and went loping away into the cloud of sand. "Come along!" I yelled tomy man, and rode after it. "We must keep up with the beast. We mustsee where it goes."
I explained no more. Doubtless the Arab thought me as mad as the whitecamel, but I didn't care. The _mehari_ had come to me as a messengerfrom Maida, and to lose sight of it would be, I felt, to lose her.
Fortunately, after the first sprint, the creature slackened speed, eventurning its long neck now and then to see if we followed. So we wenton, behind the shadowy form in the sand-cloud, until we came to thehigh adobe wall of a desert inn, a borg which my camel-man knew well.Outside the closed gate our quarry paused: as we drew closer it boundedaway, stopped and hovered as if watching to see whether the gate wouldbe opened to let us in. It was opened; and we were greeted by thelandlord, a dull-faced fellow, half Arab, half French, who looked as ifhis favourite tipple were absinthe. In the act of letting us into thebig, bare courtyard he spied the white camel in the distance. "Oh,it's you again, is it?" he muttered, and would have shut the gatequickly as my camel leader and I with the three animals of our tinycaravan entered.
"Is that white _mehari_ yours?" I inquired.
The landlord shook his head. "But no!" he protested. "It is mad. Itis a beast of evil omen."
"What did I tell the honoured gentleman?" said my man, delighted. ButI was obstinate. "Don't shut the beast out," I directed. "It doesn'tseem dangerous. I will pay you well to let it in, and for its food--orany damage it may do."
The landlord shrugged his shoulders; and when we had passed into thecourtyard, he left the gate standing open. A moment later the whitecamel walked in, and instead of joining my animals, or another whichwas squatting on the ground to munch a pile of green alfalfa, it movedwith a queer air of purposeful certainty to a window of the inn. Theshutters of this window were closed, but the camel pressed its faceagainst them as if it were trying to peer in.
"Ah, that is what the brute always does!" exclaimed the landlord in his_patois_ of Arabic and the worst _Marseillais_ French. "One would sayhis master was there. But the room is empty."
"Tell me about this animal and what is the matter with it?" I said,when I had got off my mount and it had been led away with the others bymy Arab.
"All I know I will tell willingly," replied the man. "This white camelwas one of a caravan that stopped here perhaps ten days ago. There wasno other _mehari_. The rest were of the ordinary sort. I noticed thisone and wondered, for such fine animals are rare among my clients. Butsoon I saw it was not right in its head. It was not mad in thedangerous way, which kills; but it was restless and strange. As wesay, it had been looked on by the Evil Eye. Perhaps the leader of thecaravan had got the brute cheap for that reason. Unless he wished somemisfortune to fall upon the person who rode the white camel."
"What sort of person rode it?" I asked.
The man shrugged his shoulders. "I cannot remember which one rode it,coming here. There were several men and several ladies, the family ofthe leader. They stopped here for the night--a night of simoom."
"One of the ladies may have ridden the _mehari_?" I suggested.
"May have: yes, monsieur."
"And did one of the ladies occupy that room with the closed shutters?"I persisted.
"I do not know," said the landlord. "It was one of the rooms taken bythe party. We do not pry into the arrangements of a family when theyare clients for a night."
I divined from his manner, despite an assumed carelessness, that on thenight in question something had happened to set that night apart fromother nights: so I carried on my catechism. I learned that thetravelling company had consisted of two Egyptian women, one possibly amaid, under the protection of an elderly, bearded man who was inbearing and speech a gentleman though his costume was that of awell-to-do Bedouin; a long cloak and hood such as Arab camel-leaderswear. His face had hardly been visible. Food had been sent to hisroom, also to the women, one of whom seemed to be weak and ill. Theywere both veiled and cloaked. She who was ill had not spoken. She hadbeen helped into the house by her companion. There had been a scream,and some commotion in the night caused no doubt by the illness of thislady. The landlord had been out attending to a sick camel in the_fondouk_, and returning he saw the shutters of a window thrown back.The window itself was open, and this mad _mehari_ was staring in. Thenthe window had been suddenly closed, in the camel's face. The creaturehad seemed frightened, and had galloped wildly about the courtyard,refusing to rest in the _fondouk_ with its fellows, even when food wasoffered as an inducement. It had returned again and again to the samewindow, as if determined to look through the shutters. Early in themorning, the travellers had made ready to start. The sick lady hadbeen worse. The old gentleman and his servants, of whom there wereseveral, all negroes, had to make a kind of couch for her on the_mehari's_ back, but the brute kept jumping up and refusing to betouched. At last the old gentleman grew angry and struck the animal onthe head and face. It "went for" him furiously, and had to be caughtand chastised by the negroes. No further attempt was made to use itafter that. The leader of the caravan bought a good, steady pack-camelfrom the landlord, and left the white aristocrat at the borg. At firstthe proprietor thought that he was in luck to come into possession ofsuch a fine creature, but it soon proved worse than useless. Itrefused food: it would not sit down. It was constantly at the windowinto which it had previously stared, or else at the gate trying toescape. After a day or two the Arabs employed about the _fondouk_ saidit was accursed, and asked the _patron_ to get rid of the brute, lestmisfortune fall upon the place. Accordingly the once valuable _mehari_was driven out into the desert, disappearing in the distance. Butapparently it had not gone far. Since then it had returned severaltimes with caravans, entering the courtyard with them, and walking atonce to the window in which it was so strangely interested. "That iswhy," explained the landlord, "I now keep the shutters closed. I fearthis accursed animal may break the glass before we have time to driveit away. There is not much travel at this time of year, and we haveplenty of other rooms."
"All the same I should like to be put into that room to-night," I said."And as you tell me the white _mehari_ is not wicked, there can be nodanger in your letting it stay in the courtyard till morning. I'mcurious about the creature, and should like to see what it will do."
The man tried to persuade me that there was nothing in the seemingmystery. He had rooms more comfortable than the one with the closedshutters. That had not been properly cleaned since the lastoccupation. As for the white camel, it would probably roar and make adisturbance in the night. I silenced these objections, however, in theone effectual and classic way: and I refused to wait for the room to beswept and dusted. I wished to go in immediately, I said, and later thebed could be got ready while I dined. Reluctantly the landlord gavehis consent to this arrangement, and himself escorted me to the room inquestion, bringing my bag and a lighted lamp. I watched him as weentered, and noticed that he glanced about anxiously as if he feared Imight see something which it would be better for me not to see. But,either he found nothing conspicuously wrong, or else he decided that itwas a case of "kismet."
W
hen he had gone, I didn't open the shutters at once. I wanted to havea look round, unobserved. Indeed, I took the precaution of stuffingpaper into the keyholes of the two doors: one which opened into thecorridor; another which communicated with the next room.
I knew it would be useless to ask the fellow whether the room had beenoccupied since the departure of the caravan which first brought thewhite camel. He would lie if it suited him to lie: and if there wereanything to find out, I must find it out for myself. Never in my life,however, had I felt so strong an impression as I felt now that Maida'swish, Maida's prayers, had brought me to this place. I was certainthat she had at last suspected treachery in the woman she hadworshipped: that she had prayed I might follow and search for her: thatshe had made friends with the white camel in order to add a souvenir ofherself to his neck-adornment: that she had some reason to hope hemight be left behind at this desert borg when she continued herjourney: that she had been in this room (where I seemed distinctly tofeel her presence) and that something had happened there which thelandlord either knew or suspected. Anyhow, the white camel knew, and Isaid to myself that I would give all I had in the world if the animal'shalf-crazyed intelligence could communicate its knowledge to me.
This borg, like most crude desert halting-places for men and beasts,was a one storey building which enclosed a large courtyard on threesides. The fourth side of the yard was composed of an ordinary wallnearly as high as the roof of the house. One wing of the lattercontained a row of bedrooms for travellers, each room having a windowthat looked on the court. The middle part, or main building, consistedof dining-room and kitchens: the remaining wing was the dwelling-placeof the landlord's family, and at the end had a large open shed forcamels and horses. My room, therefore, was on the ground floor. Itwas roughly paved with broken tiles, and had in front of the bed astrip of torn Spanish matting with a pattern of flowers splashed on itin black and red. There was very little furniture: a tin wash-handstand: a deal table: an iron bedstead: and two chairs; but what therewas had been left in a state of disorder since the flitting of the lastoccupant. Both chairs had fallen: the table, which had evidently stoodin the middle of the room, was pushed askew, its cotton covering on thefloor, its legs twisted up in a torn woollen rug: and--significant signof a struggle--a curtain of pink mosquito netting had been wrenchedfrom its fastenings and hung, a limp rag, at the side of the window.
The wretched paraffin lamp served only to make darkness visible; buttaking it in my hand I walked round, examining everything: and my heartmissed a beat as I saw that, among the scarlet flowers on the matting,were spots of brownish red--that tell-tale red which cannot bemistaken. They were few and small, and therefore had passed unnoticed,perhaps, by the landlord: yet to me they cried aloud. I tried to tellmyself that the stains might be old: that I had no reason to connectthem with danger for Maida: that as she had been brought so far,doubtless there was a further destination to which it was intended totake her. But as I finished my examination of the disordered room,turned out the light, and threw open the shutters my soul was sick.
"What happened here?" I asked myself for the twentieth time; and as ifin answer to my question the white camel came glimmering towards methrough the dusk. It stopped at my window, and thrusting its neckthrough the opening, stared into the room. The faint light gleamed inits yellow eyes, and gave the illusion that they moved as if followingwith emotion _something they saw_. The creature paid no attention tome, though it could have seen me standing near the window. Even when Ispoke, coaxingly, it did not turn its head; and when I walked back andforth, it remained indifferent. Its gaze concentrated on that part ofthe room nearest the door leading to the corridor; and a shiver ranthrough my nerves to see the white head float from right to left on itslong neck, as though eagerly watching a scene to me invisible. I feltthe impulse to chase the beast away, but I checked myself. I had aqueer conviction that what it could see I ought to see also: that if itremained it might _make_ me see.
I turned up the wick of the lamp, and walked slowly towards the door,glancing back to see what the camel would do. Its head was poked farinto the room. It looked like a queer white ghost, with glinting eyes.For the first time they seemed to meet mine, and I felt that the animalhad become conscious of my presence in the picture its memoryconstructed. Close to the door, in a crack between red tiles, I sawsomething round and white which I took for a button; but picking it up,it proved to be an American ten cent piece. Not far off lay anEgyptian piastre, but it was the "dime" which thrilled me. The tinysilver coin proved that an occupant of this room had lately come fromthe United States. A little farther away I discovered broken bits of asmall bottle, with a torn label. Matching scraps of paper together Imade out part of a word which told its own sinister story. "Morph":the missing syllable was not needed. And the label had the name--orpart of the name--of a New York druggist:
"C. Sarge----" "Broadw----"
Already I began to visualise what the scene near the door might havebeen. I went out hastily and questioned the landlord again as to thedestination of the white camel's caravan. I offered him so big a bribefor information that, if he had known anything definite, he couldhardly have resisted the temptation to tell. But he had only vaguesuggestions to make. Perhaps the party might have been bound forHathor Set, a small oasis-town with one or two country houses of richmen on its outskirts. It was twenty miles distant, and he could thinkof no other place within a day's march where persons of importancelived. Farther away, however, there were oases where merchants andofficials owned houses which they occupied now and then, and wheretheir families sometimes stayed for months.
If it had been possible I would have travelled on that night, but to doso would have been madness. I must wait till dawn: and though I didnot expect to sleep I went back to my room when I had eaten some vilefood, and arranged for the start at five o'clock.
"Weather permitting," added the landlord, with an ear for the moan ofthe sickly south wind.
"Weather must permit," I answered.
My side of the house was somewhat sheltered from the blowing sand;still, on such a night most desert dwellers would have shut theirwindows. I kept my window open, however; and lying on the bed, thelamp burning dimly, I faced it. The head of the white camel, on itslong, swaying neck, was always framed in the aperture. I had broughtfrom the dining-room a plateful of dates to tempt the animal, but itrefused to touch them; and the landlord had told me that, so far as heknew, the _mehari_ had eaten no food for ten days, since it firstappeared at the borg. This accounted in a normal way for its thinnessand the wild look of its eyes; but according to the man and hisservants the "mysterious curse" upon the beast was destroying it. "Acamel accursed can live twice as long as others with nothing to eat,and even with no water," the landlord had announced gravely, as ifstating a well-known fact. "Then, suddenly, when the evil spirit isready to leave its body, the creature will fall dead."
I was anxious that the _mehari_ should not fall dead until I hadfinished making use of it: therefore I was glad to see it staringbleakly through the window, hour after hour. I hoped that, in themorning, it might lead me along the way its lost caravan had gone, andwhereever it went I intended to follow. It was making me superstitious.
Now and then I dozed for a few minutes, to wake with a start and lookfor the watching face at the window, but at last I fell heavily asleep;and I dreamed.
I dreamed of the camel: and it seemed as if I dreamed _into_ it. Myintense wish to see what it had seen, no doubt accounted for thisimpression, but it could not account entirely for what followed. Itwas as though the light of the lamp burned down, and blazed suddenly upin the brain of the animal. I saw through its eyes, as by twosearchlights illuminating the sordid room.
Maida Odell was led in by a taller woman. Both wore Arab costumes,with cloaks and veils, as if they had been travelling. Maida movedlanguidly. She let her companion take off her wraps. Her face waswhite, her eyes dazed. I knew, in the drea
m, that she had beendrugged, and I hated the woman who touched her. The girl walkedunsteadily to the window and threw it open, drawing in long breaths;and then the white camel came. I felt that it had been waiting forthis moment: that it loved and was grateful to the girl for kindness,as no camel save a _mehari_ ever can be. She took lumps of sugar fromher pocket and fed it. The animal accepted them daintily. The womanordered it away, closed the shutters, and drew the ragged mosquitocurtain across the window. Darkness fell between me and the twofigures. I saw no more; but after an interval of blankness I wasconscious that Maida, left alone in the room, had opened the shutters,leaving only the mosquito-netting between her and the night. Thecamel, which had refused to rest with its fellows in the _fondouk_,came sliding towards the girl and let her caress it. Apparently theywere the best of friends. She slipped a bangle from her arm, and tiedit to the _mehari's_ collar. She patted the white head, and whisperedin the flat ear. The animal was in an ecstasy. At last Maida pushedit away gently, and leaning out of the window searched the courtyard.I had the impression, in my dream, that she thought of climbing out andattempting to escape on the _mehari_ whose confidence she had gainedfor that very purpose. But at this moment a tall, bent figure in ahooded cloak walked slowly past, and turning his head, looked at Maida.His face was so deeply shadowed by the hood that I could not see thefeatures. There was a glimpse of venerable whitish beard tucked intothe cloak; but I knew, in my dream, that the man was Rameses posing asthe leader of the caravan. I tried to speak, to call Maida's name, toask her how it was that she had trusted these people: but I waspowerless to make the girl feel my presence. "I must wait," I said tomyself. "Some day she will explain why she consented to sail forNaples, and why she went on to Egypt."
"Some day!" the words echoed in my brain. Would the day come in thisworld, or must I solve the greatest secret of all before I solvedMaida's?
The dream went on, but I saw nothing when the girl closed the shutters.Soon, however, she flung them wide again; and though she had put outthe light, the moon was shining in. I could see her moving about. Shelistened at the door, as if she heard something in the corridor. Shehad fastened the bolt, but now she discovered that it was broken. Thedoor could be opened from the outside. She placed a chair against it,with the back caught under the handle. Then she went and sat downclose to the window. The camel was there, and she spoke to it, as ifshe were comforted by its nearness. For a time she was very still.Her head drooped; but it was impossible to sleep for long in the high,uncomfortable chair. Now and then the girl started awake, alwaysturning to glance at the door: but at last she fell into a deeper doze.Slowly the door opened, almost without noise. Maida remainedmotionless: but the watching _mehari_ uttered a snarl. The girl sprangto her feet, not knowing what to do. A cloaked figure which hadslipped in attempted to hide behind the open door, but was too late.Maida saw the gliding shadow, shrieked, and would have run into thecorridor, but the man in the Arab cloak caught her on the threshold,and muffled her head in his mantle. She struggled in his grasp, andalmost escaped. Chairs were overturned: the rug under the table wastwisted round the man's feet: I thought that he would trip and fall,but he saved himself. Holding Maida with one hand, with the other hedrew a bottle from some pocket, and pulled out the cork with his teeth.The girl freed an arm, but before she could push the bottle away theman emptied a quantity of the liquid over the cloth that covered herface. A sickly scent of chloroform filled the air. Still she foughtbravely, her freed hand seized the bottle, and dashed it on the floor,where it broke with a crash. At this instant a woman in Arab dresscame swiftly into the room. She was very tall, as tall as the man, andI noticed a likeness between their figures, a remarkable breadth ofshoulder, something peculiar in their bearing. The woman's face wasunveiled, but in the darkness I could not make out its features.
She shut the door hastily. The two spoke to each other in a language Icould not understand. Maida struggled no more. The chloroform hadtaken effect. In my dream I felt that the two did not wish her to die:the time had not come. There was a climax towards which they wereworking, had been working for a long time. Now it was close at hand.The woman held a much smaller bottle than the one which lay broken.She had also a glass with a little water, and a spoon. These sheplaced on the wash-hand stand, and went swiftly to the window. Drivingaway the camel with a threatening gesture, she closed the shutters. Itseemed as if they slammed in my face. I waked with a great start, andfound myself sitting up in bed, my face damp with sweat.
The shutters, which I'd kept wide open, had banged together in therising wind. I bounded off the bed to the window, and flung them apartagain. Sand stung my face and eyelids. The white camel haddisappeared, but there was a wild snarling in the _fondouk_.
"My wish has been granted," I said to myself, "I have seen what thewatching eye saw in this room. But what did it see after that? Whichway did the caravan go?"
I must have slept soundly, and longer than I thought, for behind thecloud of sand dawn was grey in the sky. Half an hour later I was outof the room, in the courtyard, where the Arab servants had begun tostir. From his own part of the building the landlord appeared. I toldhim that I had sent to have my man roused, and that I would start inspite of the storm.
"What has become of the white _mehari_?" I asked. "Is he in the_fondouk_ after all?"
The man called one of his Arabs, asked a question, got an answer, andturned to me. "The beast snarled so wickedly it waked my fellows," heexplained, "and they, not knowing of my promise to you, drove it intothe desert. That must have been two hours ago."
I was furious, but scolding was vain. I had hoped superstitiously forthe guidance of the watcher, till the end; but this was not to be. Imust trust to my own instinct.
Despite the arguments of the landlord and my own man that it wasdangerous to set out in the face of a simoom, we started, taking theroute towards Hathor Set.
The blown sand had obliterated the tracks of men and camels. Thedesert, so far as we could see, was a vast ocean of rippling waves. Ihad brought no compass, trusting to the sun: but the sun was hiddenbehind the copper veil of sand. "We shall be lost, sir," said my man."Shall we not be wise while there is time, and go back before our owntracks are blotted out? See, there ahead is a lesson for us: a camelthat has fallen and been choked to death by the sand. Before night weand our animals may lie as it lies now, with the shroud that the desertgives, wrapped round our heads."
"A camel that has fallen!" I echoed. And striking my beast I rodeforward till I reached the low mound to which the brown hand pointed.
The white _mehari_ lay on its side, the head and half the body buried,the bead collar faintly blue under a coating of yellow sand. Thewatching eye was closed for ever: but I had the needed clue.
"We're not lost," I said. "This is the right way. We'll push on toHathor Set."