XL
On the night of the Governor's ball, it was four weeks to the day sinceStephen Knight and Nevill Caird had inquired for Victoria Ray at theHotel de la Kasbah, and found her gone.
For rather more than a fortnight, they had searched for her quietlywithout applying to the police; but when at the end of that time, noletter had come, or news of any kind, the police were called intoconsultation. Several supposed clues had been followed, and had led tonothing; but Nevill persuaded Stephen to hope something from the ball.If any caids of the south knew that Roumis had a secret reason forquestioning them, they would pretend to know nothing, or give misleadinganswers; but if they were drawn on to describe their own part of thecountry, and the facilities for travelling through it, news of those whohad lately passed that way might be inadvertently given.
Stephen was no longer in doubt about his feelings for Victoria. He knewthat he had loved her ever since the day when she came to Nevill'shouse, and they talked together in the lily garden. He knew that the onething worth living for was to find her; but he expected no happinessfrom seeing her again, rather the contrary. Margot would soon be comingback to England from Canada, and he planned to meet her, and keep allhis promises. Only, he must be sure first that Victoria Ray was safe. Hehad made up his mind by this time that, if necessary, Margot would haveto wait for him. He would not leave Algeria until Victoria had beenfound. It did not matter whether this decision were right or wrong, hewould stick to it. Then, he would atone by doing as well as he could byMargot. She should have no cause of complaint against him in the future,so far as his love for Victoria was concerned; but he did not mean totry and kill it. Love for such a girl was too sacred to kill, eventhough it meant unhappiness for him. Stephen meant to guard it always inhis heart, like a lamp to light him over the dark places; and therewould be many dark places he knew in a life lived with Margot.
Through many anxious days he looked forward to the Governor's ball,pinning his faith to Nevill's predictions; but when the moment came, hisexcitement fell like the wind at sunset. It did not seem possible that,after weeks of suspense, he should have news now, or ever. He went withNevill to the summer palace, feeling dull and depressed. But perhaps thedepression was partly the effect of a letter from Margot Lorenzi inCanada, received that morning. She said that she was longing to see him,and "hurrying all she knew," to escape from her friends, and get back to"dear London, and her darling White Knight."
"I'm an ass to expect anything from coming here," he thought, as he sawthe entrance gates of the palace park blazing with green lights in atrellis of verdure. The drive and all the paths that wound through thepark were bordered with tiny lamps, and Chinese lanterns hung from thetrees. There was sure to be a crush, and it seemed absurd to hope thateven Nevill's cajoleries could draw serious information from Arab guestsin such a scene as this.
The two young men went into the palace, passing through a big verandawhere French officers were playing bridge, and on into a charming court,where Turkish coffee was being served. Up from this court a staircaseled to the room where the Governor was receiving, and at each turn ofthe stairs stood a Spahi in full dress uniform, with a long white haick.Nevill was going on ahead, meaning to introduce Stephen to the Governorbefore beginning his search for acquaintances among the Arab chiefs whogrouped together over the coffee cups. But, turning to speak to Stephen,who had been close behind at starting, he found that somehow they hadbeen swept apart. He stepped aside to wait for his friend, and let thecrowd troop past him up the wide staircase. Among the first to go by wasan extremely handsome Arab wearing a scarlet cloak heavy with goldembroidery, thrown over a velvet coat so thickly encrusted with goldthat its pale-blue colour showed only here and there. He held histurbaned head proudly, and, glancing at Caird as he passed, seemed notto see him, but rather to see through him something more interestingbeyond.
Nevill still waited for his friend, but fully two minutes had gonebefore Stephen appeared. "Did you see that fellow in the red cloak?" heasked. "That was the Arab of the ship."
"Si Maieddine----"
"Yes. Did you notice a queer brooch that held his cloak together? Awheel-like thing, set with jewels?"
"No. He hadn't it on. His cloak was hanging open."
"By Jove! You're sure?"
"Certain. I saw the whole breast of his coat."
"That settles it, then. He did recognize me. Hang it, I wish he hadn't."
"I don't know what's in your mind exactly. But I suppose you'll tellme."
"Rather. But no time now. We mustn't lose sight of him if we can helpit. I wanted to follow him up, on the instant, but didn't dare, for Ihoped he'd think I hadn't spotted him. He can't be sure, anyhow, for Ihad the presence of mind not to stare. Let's go up now. He was on hisway to pay his respects to the Governor, I suppose. He can't haveslipped away yet."
"It would seem not," Nevill assented, thoughtfully.
But a few minutes later, it seemed that he had. And Nevill was notsurprised, for in the last nine years he had learned never to wonder atthe quick-witted diplomacy of Arabs. Si Maieddine had made short workof his compliments to the Governor, and had passed out of sight by thetime that Stephen Knight and Nevill Caird escaped from the line ofEuropeans and gorgeous Arabs pressing towards their host. It was notcertain, however, that he had left the palace. His haste to get on mightbe only a coincidence, Nevill pointed out. "Frenchified Arabs" like SiMaieddine, he said, were passionately fond of dancing with Europeanwomen, and very likely Maieddine was anxious to secure a waltz with someFrenchwomen of his acquaintance.
The two Englishmen went on as quickly as they could, without seeming tohurry, and looked for Maieddine in the gaily decorated ball-room where agreat number of Europeans and a few Arabs were dancing. Maieddine wouldhave been easy to find there, for his high-held head in its white turbanmust have towered above most other heads, even those of the tallestFrench officers; but he was not to be seen, and Nevill guided Stephenout of the ball-room into a great court decorated with palms andbanners, and jewelled with hundreds of coloured lights that turned thefountain into a spouting rainbow.
Pretty women sat talking with officers in uniforms, and watching thedancers as they strolled out arm in arm, to walk slowly round theflower-decked fountain. Behind the chatting Europeans stood many Arabchiefs of different degree, bach aghas, aghas, caids and adels, lookingon silently, or talking together in low voices; and compared with thesestately, dark men in their magnificent costumes blazing with jewels andmedals, the smartest French officers were reduced to insignificance.There were many handsome men, but Si Maieddine was not among them.
"We've been told that he's _persona grata_ here," Nevill remindedStephen, "and there are lots of places where he may be in the palace,that we can't get to. He's perhaps hob-nobbing with some pal, having aprivate confab, and maybe he'll turn up at supper."
"He doesn't look like a man to care about food, I will say that forhim," answered Stephen. "He's taken the alarm, and sneaked off withoutgiving me time to track him. I'll bet anything that's the fact. Hidingthe brooch is a proof he saw me, I'm afraid. Smart of him! He thought myfriend would be somewhere about, and he'd better get rid of damagingevidence."
"You haven't explained the brooch, yet."
"I forgot. It's one _she_ wore on the boat--and that day at yourhouse--Miss Ray, I mean. She told me about it; said it had been apresent from Ben Halim to her sister, who gave it to her."
"Sure you couldn't mistake it? There's a strong family likeness in Arabjewellery."
"I'm sure. And even if I hadn't been at first, I should be now, fromthat chap's whisking it off the instant he set eyes on me. His having itproves a lot. As she wore the thing at your house, he must have got itsomehow after we saw her. Jove, Nevill, I'd like to choke him!"
"If you did, he couldn't tell what he knows."
"I'm going to find out somehow. Come along, no use wasting time herenow, trying to get vague information out of Arab chiefs. We can learnmore by seeing where this brut
e lives, than by catechizing a hundredcaids."
"It's too late for him to get away from Algiers to-night by train,anyhow," said Nevill. "Nothing goes anywhere in particular. And lookhere, Legs, if he's really onto us, he won't have made himself scarcewithout leaving some pal he can trust, to see what we're up to."
"There were two men close behind who might have been with him," Stephenremembered aloud.
"Would you recognize them?"
"I--think so. One of the two, anyhow. Very dark, hook-nosed, middle-agedchap, pitted with smallpox."
"Then you may be sure he's chosen the less noticeable one. No good ourtrying to find Maieddine himself, if he's left the palace; though Ihope, by putting our heads and Roslin's together, that among the threeof us we shall pick him up later. But if he's left somebody here to keepan eye on us, our best course is to keep an eye on that somebody.They'll have to communicate."
"You're right," Stephen admitted. "I'm vague about the face, but I'llforce myself to recognize it. That's the sort of thing Miss Ray woulddo. She's got some quaint theory about controlling your subconsciousself. Now I'll take a leaf out of her book. By Jove--there's one of themen now. Don't look yet. He doesn't seem to notice us, but who knows?He's standing by the door, under a palm. Let's go back into theball-room, and see if he follows."
But to "see if he followed" was more easily said than done. The Arab, amelancholy and grizzled but dignified caid of the south, contrived tolose himself in a crowd of returning dancers, and it was not until laterthat the friends saw him in the ball-room, talking to a French officerand having not at all the air of one who spied or followed. Whether heremained because they remained was hard to say, for the scene wasamusing and many Arabs watched it; but he showed no sign ofrestlessness, and it began to seem laughable to Nevill that, if hewaited for them, they would be forced to wait for him. Eventually theymade a pretence of eating supper. The caid was at the buffet with anArab acquaintance. The Englishmen lingered so long, that in the end hewalked away; yet they were at his beck and call. They must go after him,if he went before them, and it was irritating to see that, when he hadtaken respectful leave of his host, the sad-faced caid proceeded quietlyout of the palace as if he had nothing to conceal. Perhaps he hadnothing or else, suspecting the game, he was forcing the hand of theenemy. Stephen and Nevill had to follow, if they would keep him insight; and though they walked as far behind as possible, passing out ofthe brilliantly lighted park, they could not be sure that he did notguess they were after him.
They had walked the short distance from Djenan el Djouad to theGovernor's summer palace; and now, outside the gates, the caid turned tothe left, which was their way home also. This was lucky, because, if theman were on the alert, and knew where Nevill lived, he would have noreason to suppose they took this direction on his account.
But he had not gone a quarter of a mile when he stopped, and rang at agate in a high white wall.
"Djenan el Taleb," mumbled Nevill. "Perhaps Si Maieddine's visitingthere--or else this old beggar is."
"Is it an Arab's house?" Stephen wanted to know.
"Was once--long ago as pirate days. Now a Frenchman owns it--Monsieur deMora--friend of the Governor's. Always puts up several chiefs at thetime of the ball."
The gate opened to let the caid in and was shut again.
"Hurrah!--just thought of a plan," exclaimed Nevill. "I don't think DeMora can have got home yet from the palace. I saw him having supper.Suppose I dart back, flutter gracefully round him, babble 'tile talk' abit--he's a tile expert after my own heart--then casually ask what Arabshe's got staying with him. If Maieddine's in his house it can't be asecret--incidentally I may find out where the fellow comes from andwhere he's going."
"Good!" said Stephen. "I'll hang about in the shadow of some tree andglue my eye to this gate. Is there any other way out?"
"There is; but not one a visitor would be likely to take, especially ifhe didn't want to be seen. It opens into a street where a lot of peoplemight be standing to peer into the palace grounds and hear the music.Now run along, Legs, and find a comfortable shadow. I'm off."
He was gone three-quarters of an hour, but nothing happened meanwhile.Nobody went in at the gate, or came out, and the time dragged forStephen. He thought of a hundred dangers that might be threateningVictoria, and it seemed that Caird would never come. But at last he sawthe boyish figure, hurrying along under the light of a street-lamp.
"Couldn't find De Mora at first--then had to work slowly up to thesubject," Nevill panted. "But it's all right. Maieddine _is_ stoppingwith him--leaves to-morrow or day after; supposed to have come from ElAghouat, and to be going back there. But that isn't to say eithersupposition's true."
"We must find out where he's going--have him watched," said Stephen.
"Yes. Only, the trouble is, if he's on to the game, it's just what he'llexpect. But I've been thinking how we may be able to bluff--make himthink it was his guilty conscience tricked him to imagine our interestin his movements. You know I'm giving a dinner to-morrow night to a fewpeople?"
"Yes. Lady MacGregor told me."
"Well, a Mademoiselle Vizet, a niece of De Mora's, is coming, so thatgave me a chance to mention the dinner to her uncle. Maieddine caneasily hear about it, if he chooses to inquire what's going on at myhouse. And I said something else to De Mora, for the benefit of the samegentleman. I hope you'll approve."
"Sure to. What was it?"
"That I was sorry my friend, Mr. Knight, had got news which would callhim away from Algiers before the dinner. I said you'd be going on boardthe _Charles Quex_ to-morrow when she leaves for Marseilles."
"But Maieddine can find out----"
"That's just what we want. He can find out that your ticket's taken, ifwe do take it. He can see you go on board if he likes to watch or send aspy. But he mustn't see you sneaking off again with the Arab porters whocarry luggage. If you think anything of the plan, you'll have to standthe price of a berth, and let some luggage you can do without, go toMarseilles. I'll see you off, and stop on board till the last minute.You'll be in your cabin, putting on the clothes I wear sometimes when Iwant some fun in the old town--striped wool burnous, hood over yourhead, full white trousers--good 'props,' look a lot the worse forwear--white stockings like my Kabyle servants have; and you can rub abit of brown grease-paint on your legs where the socks leave off. That'swhat I do. Scheme sounds complicated; but so is an Arab's brain. You'vegot to match it. What do you say?"
"I say 'done!'" Stephen answered.
"Thought you would. Some fellows'd think it too sensational; but youcan't be too sensational with Arabs, if you want to beat 'em. This oughtto put Maieddine off the scent. If he's watching, and sees you--as hethinks--steam calmly out of Algiers harbour, and if he knows I'mentertaining people at my house, he won't see why he need go onbothering himself with extra precautions."
"Right. But suppose he's off to-morrow morning--or even to-night."
"Then we needn't bother about the boat business. For we shall know if hegoes. Either you or I must now look up Roslin. Perhaps it had better beI, because I can run into Djenan el Djouad first, and send my manSaunders to watch De Mora's other gate, and make assurance doubly sure."
"You're a brick, Wings," said Stephen.