CHAPTER XXXVI
MRS. MAY LEARNS SOMETHING
Mrs. May sat among her flowers after dinner. She had dined well and wason the very best of terms with herself. It had been a source ofsatisfaction to see the body of her worst enemy laid to rest in thevillage churchyard that afternoon.
For years she had planned for the death of that man and for years he hadeluded her. To strike him down foully had been too dangerous, for had henot told her that he was prepared for that kind of death? Had he notarranged it so that a score of savants in Europe should learn the truthwithin a month of his decease?
"And kindly fate has removed him for me," she said as she puffed withinfinite content at one of her scented cigarettes. "There is no longerany danger. What have I to fear now from those wise men of the East?Nothing. They will see that Tchigorsky has died a natural death and willdestroy those packets. I can act freely now."
A strange look came over the lovely face, a look that boded ill forsomebody. Then the whole expression changed as Geoffrey entered. She hadseen him that afternoon; she had asked him to come and he had halfpromised to do so. That Mrs. May hated the young man and all his racewith a fanatical hatred was no reason why, for the present, she shouldnot enjoy his society.
She was a strange woman, this Eastern, with a full knowledge of Westernways and civilization. She could be two distinct beings in as manyminutes.
A moment ago she was a priestess thirsting for the blood of those whohad defiled her creed, for the blood of those to the third or fourthgeneration, and almost instantly she was the charming hostess she wouldhave been in a country mansion or a West End drawing room. She wavedGeoffrey to a seat.
"I hardly dared hope you would come," she said. "But now you are here,make yourself at home. There are some of the cigarettes you liked sowell and the claret purchased for me by a connoisseur. I never touchwine myself, but I know you men appreciate it after dinner."
Geoffrey took a cigarette and poured himself out a glass of the superbclaret. The bouquet of it seemed to mingle with the flowers and scentthe room. Geoffrey mentally likened himself to an Italian gallant uponwhom Lucretia Borgia smiled before doing him to death.
Not that he had any fear of the wine. Mrs. May was a criminal, but shewas not a clumsy one. She would never permit herself to take risks likethat.
Nevertheless, it was very pleasant, for when Mrs. May chose to exerciseher fascinations there was no more delightful woman. And there wasalways the chance of picking up useful information.
Mrs. May touched lightly on Tchigorsky, to which Geoffrey responded withproper gravity. Had Mrs. May known that Tchigorsky himself was not morethan a mile away she would have been less easy in her mind.
"No more visions lately?" she asked.
"No more," Geoffrey replied. "But they will come again. We arehopelessly and utterly doomed; nothing can save us. It is to be my turnnext."
Mrs. May started. There was an expression on her face that was not allsympathy.
"What do you mean by that?" she demanded.
Geoffrey slowly extracted from his pocket a sheet of paper. He haddiscovered it in his plate that morning at breakfast time. Long andearnestly it had been discussed by himself and Ralph and Tchigorsky, andit had been the suggestion of the last-named that Geoffrey should findsome pretext for mentioning it to Mrs. May.
"This was by my plate this morning," he said. "I don't mind showing itto you, because you are a good friend of mine. It is a warning."
It was a plain half sheet of note-paper, the sort sold in general shopsat so many sheets a penny. The envelope was to match. Just a few lineshad been laboriously printed on the paper.
"Take care," it ran. "You are marked down for the next victim; and they are not likely to fail. You are not to go on the sea till you hear from me once more; you are not to venture along the cliffs. If you show this to anybody I shall not be able to warn you again, and your doom will be sealed.--ONE WHO LOVES YOU."
That was all there was; nothing at the top or the bottom. Mrs. Mayturned this over with a puzzled face and a hand that shook slightly.Under her smile was another expression, the look of one who has beenbetrayed and is in a position to lay her hand upon the guilty person.
"You are fortunate to have friends with the enemy," she said. "But doyou think you were wise to show this to me?"
She was playing with him as the cat plays with the mouse. It was atemptation she could not resist, feeling sure that Geoffrey would notunderstand. But he did, though he did not show it on his face.
"Why not?" he asked innocently. "Are you not my friend? Personally Ibelieve it is a hoax to frighten me. You can keep that paper if youplease."
"Then you are not going to take any notice of the warning?" asked Mrs.May.
There was a note of curiosity, sharp, eager curiosity, in the question.Geoffrey did not fail to notice it, though he shook his head carelessly.
"I am going to ignore it, as one should ignore all anonymous letters,"he said. "If the writer of that letter thinks to frighten me, then he orshe is sadly mistaken. I shall go on with my life as if I had neverreceived it."
Mrs. May's lips framed the sentence, "The more fool you," but she didnot utter it. It filled her with satisfaction to find that the warninghad been ignored, as it had filled her with anger to know that a warninghad been received. And Mrs. May knew full well who was the author ofthat letter.
"I don't think that I should ignore it," she said. "It may be a cruelpiece of mischief; and, on the other hand, it may be dictated by agenerous desire to help you. So the moral is that you are to keep clearof the cliffs and the sea."
Geoffrey flicked the ash off his cigarette and laughed. He pouredhimself out a second glass of the amazing claret.
"It is an unusual thing for me to do," he said, "but your claret iswonderful. You speak of the moral, I speak of the things as they aregoing to be. To-morrow I shall go out fishing alone as if nothing hadhappened."
"Ah, but you have not spoken of this?"
Mrs. May indicated the letter lying on the table. Geoffrey looked at herreproachfully.
"Have we not trouble and misery enough in our house without makingmore?" he asked. "Now, I put it to you as a lady of brains and courage,if you had been in my position, would you have shown that to yourfamily?"
Geoffrey lay back in his chair with the air of a man who has put aposer. At the same time he had ingeniously parried Mrs. May's question.
As a matter of fact, nobody but Ralph and Tchigorsky had seen the paper.And the latter point-blank refused to give his reasons why the letterwas to be disclosed to Mrs. May.
She looked at Geoffrey with real admiration.
"I shouldn't," she said. "Of course, you are right and I am wrong. AndI dare say you will be able to take care of yourself."
He was going to disregard the warning; he was going out alone; andnobody knew what was hanging over his head! Here was a fool of fools, apretty fellow to assist. Much good that warning had done.
Geoffrey rose to his feet.
"And now I must go," he said. "Still, I hope to come again."
The door closed, and she was alone. Hardly had he departed before a darkfigure in a white robe crept out of the gloom of the garden into theroom. Mrs. May looked at the ragged looking stranger fixedly.
"Who are you, and whence do you come?" she asked in her native tongue.
The man salaamed almost to the ground.
"I am Ben Heer, your slave," he said, "and I bring you great news."
"Oh!" Mrs. May said slowly; "and so you have come at last."