CHAPTER I
WHICH INTRODUCES A NEW FRIEND
It was nearly half-past five on a wild March afternoon, in those happyyears before the great war, and Charing Cross Station, struggling in thethroes of that desperate agitation which betokens the arrival of aboat-train from the continent, was full to overflowing with achattering, gesticulating crowd of travellers, all anxious to securefirst place in the graces of that ever-useful personage, the porter.
It was the busiest hour of the day, and everyone seemed to be making themost of it. What wonder, then, that tempers were grazed, nerves jangled,and peaceable individuals were transformed into monsters with bellicoseintentions!
In the yard outside the station a medley of motors chug-chuggedunceasingly, crushed in upon each other like closely packed sardines,and presented to the casual individual a maze of intricacies and noisefrom which he could evolve no beginning and no end.
One car, however, somewhat conspicuous as to colour, stood out amongstthe drab hues of the others, like a poppy in a cornfield. It was the redlimousine of Mr. Maverick Narkom, Superintendent of Scotland Yard andthe car in which that gentleman was wont to take his numerous voyagesabroad.
But, at the moment, Mr. Narkom was not occupying its roomy interior. Itwas a youth who sat at the steering-wheel and he was staring withanxious eyes out of his drab, cockney countenance, glancing from side toside at the hurrying throng which streamed from the station as though hewere expecting every minute to see the King himself stride from it.
But it was no King he waited for--rather, indeed, a Queen--the Queen ofhis beloved master's heart, and as he sat there staring about him, hebecame conscious of a queer, gnawing pain somewhere in the region of hisstomach. The knowledge of the very excellent tea he had missed, byreason of this endless waiting, swept over him in an overwhelming tide.
"Lor' Lumme," ejaculated he as the time sped on and she for whom hewatched came not. "If she don't come by the next train I shall beredooced to eating of me bloomin' 'at to save me life! I'll be a livingskeleton, I will, with not even as much to chew at as a winkle or acharcoal biscuit. But the guv'nor, bless 'is 'eart, ain't even 'ad asmuch as that! He'll be just fit to bust 'isself in a minute--an'speakin' of hangels, 'ere he is!"
Here "he" certainly was, the only being in the world who counted toDollops, and he looked both tired and depressed.
Under ordinary circumstances one might as well have expected to meet anuncaged lion in the streets of London, as to come across Hamilton Cleekwandering up and down in so exposed a place as Charing Cross Station atany hour of the day, much less when the Paris boat-train was expected.This train might debouch any number of Maurevanians or French apaches,all pledged to kill the "Rat of a Cracksman," the "Man of Forty Faces"who had long ago left their haunts and company for the sake of one fairwoman whose eyes had pierced the depths of his degradation, bidding himaspire to better things.
And it was for her, his queen among women, that Cleek waited now. Thatmorning's post had brought a brief scrap of a letter telling him thatshe was returning to-day from a long visit to the Baron de Carjorac andhis daughter in Paris. Only a short, friendly note it had been, butsufficient to cause Cleek to spend his day at the station, not knowingby which train she would arrive. It was little wonder, therefore, thatat half-past five Dollops was growing desperate.
A whistle shrilled. There was the sudden excited clamour of many voicesand the boat-train, late and overcrowded, had come in!
Cleek switched on his heel, forged a way through the waiting crowd, andbetook himself to the gates. For a moment only a flow of passengers methis gaze, when suddenly the sight of a slenderly knit figure made hisheart leap to his mouth. A mist swam in front of his eyes, blurringtheir vision momentarily, and he took an exultant step forward. For itwas Ailsa Lorne herself. She gazed at him with a look of glad surprise,and a swift rush of colour came to the pure oval face which set hispulses hammering.
"Ailsa----!"
Hand met hand in the warm clasp which there is no mistaking and thenCleek realized that she was not alone. By her side stood a young girlnot more than eighteen, if looks counted for anything, evidently sotired and worn with the rigours of the journey that she seemed too dazedto notice anything or anybody.
Ailsa, thrusting a friendly arm through hers, drew her forward.
"Lady Margaret, this is a very dear friend of mine," she said in herfresh young voice, "Lieutenant Deland, dear."
No need to tell Cleek that there was some special reason for thismeeting and introduction, for he knew only too well how quick AilsaLorne was to lend a helping hand to any one in trouble, and heregistered a silent vow to do all he could, should occasion demand, forthis tired-looking child.
Then Ailsa spoke again, looking significantly at Cleek.
"We have both been victims of a terrible crossing, and Lady Margaret hasfound no one to meet her. She has come from the convent of Notre Dame inParis, and has to go all the way to Hampton now."
"Hampton?" Cleek echoed, raising his eyebrows involuntarily, for he knewAilsa would go direct to the riverside cottage in that place which shehad made her home.
"Yes, I tell her we are to be near neighbours. So, dear," she turnedagain to her companion, who was staring round the station in evidentsearch of some friendly face, "supposing you let Lieutenant Deland driveus both together? He will drop me at my home, and put you down at CheyneCourt."
The girl's eyes lit up with something akin to real pleasure.
"Oh, indeed I will, if you--he--will not mind; I am so worried. I feltsure Auntie would have come to meet me. It is all so strange----" Hervoice died away as if she were too tired to resist, and the eyes ofCleek and Ailsa met in significant understanding.
"The limousine is outside," he murmured in a low voice, "and I will runyou down myself if that will suit you."
"Indeed it will," said Ailsa, gratefully, "and I shall just tuck thatpoor child into the car, then come and sit in front with you so that wecan talk."
A sudden light came into Cleek's eyes, a sudden smile curved the cornersof his mouth at this proof of Ailsa's trust in him, and he led the wayout of the station.
Outside, Dollops was speedily dismissed to get a long-wished-for meal.Realizing that his beloved master was happy in his self-appointed task,he relinquished his place at the wheel, and was speedily lost to sightin the ever-moving kaleidoscope of the Strand.
Meanwhile, Ailsa, having snugly tucked in her travelling companion onthe seat of the limousine, and seen that she was half asleep, betookherself to the front seat beside Cleek. And they started on the roadwhich was to carry him once more nearer crime and disaster than any manwould care to go.
"That poor child!" she said, when the car was humming softly along, andwhisking them out of London. "I watched her have such a pitiful partingwith the nuns at Calais, and afterward, when she was so ill and lonelyon board. I tried to cheer her up. It seems that she has been at NotreDame Convent in Paris all her life, except for one stray holiday with afriend, and now she comes of age next week, and has got to live with asour old aunt, an eccentric being who I think must be jealous of thechild's youth and beauty. She will be shut up in Cheyne Court. It's adreadful spot, too. I know it well. I have often passed it. I don'twonder she is dreading it. All the jewels in the world are not worthimprisonment in such a dreary dungeon as Cheyne Court must be!"
Cleek twitched up an enquiring eyebrow.
"Jewels?" he questioned, musingly. "Hm! Wait one moment. Lady MargaretCheyne did you say? Let me see. I don't profess to be a walking Debrett,but I fancy the name recalls some strange memory. Lord Cheynenow--didn't he marry Miss Peggy Wynne, known over London as 'thebeautiful Irish girl'? Yes, and she died, too, at the child's birth Iremember. Hm! a heavy inheritance that, a thousand pities she wasn't aboy---- What's that, dear? Why? Why, the title dies out with her, andshe comes into all the family jewels. I don't wonder you think one canpay too high a price for jewels, priceless though they be, for if mymemory serves me rightly, t
hese include that ill-fated stone, the PurpleEmperor----" His voice trailed into silence, he sat a moment staringahead, and Ailsa forbore to question him.
Then he threw back his shoulders as if thrusting away the sorrow of theworld, and with a tilt of the head, turned again to Ailsa.
"Ah, well, it's so far back that perhaps the fates will be kind," hesaid, musingly. "Perhaps you'd like to hear something of the story.We'll drive slower then. 'The Purple Emperor,' or to give its rightname, the 'Eye of Shiva,' is, as you can guess, an Indian stone, and waslooted from a temple at Benares in the days of the ill-fated IndianMutiny. It was brought to England by a member of the Cheyne family--'MadCheyne' I think they called him--and there is a special police chronicleof the crimes committed by, and at the instigation of, the priests ofthe temple in their efforts to get it back into their possession again.I expect they have given it up now, for last thing I heard of thathistoric stone was that it was embedded in a concrete safe in the Bankof England."
Ailsa's face had become very pale while he was speaking, and as hepaused she gave a little shiver.
"Poor child!" she murmured. "I don't believe the priests have forgotten.At least, two Hindoos were on board the boat, and both tried to scrapeacquaintance with her. And I never knew! I never thought. As a matter offact, I am not sure that one did not achieve his object, for at nightwhile I was resting one of them approached her and won her confidence bytelling her that he knew her father, an old friend----"
"An old _trick_ rather," interposed Cleek quietly, "and one that hasopened the door to wiser heads than that tired child's. If the wind sitsin that quarter she will have a hard struggle, and will be well advisedto leave the 'Purple Emperor' in its stony bed. Still, I suppose heraunt will see to that, as well as look after her better than she hasdone to-day."
"Oh, I expect so," replied Ailsa in her soft voice, as the car whizzedits way out into the open country.
"She seems to be very eccentric from what I have heard of her from LadyBrenton, a near neighbour of us both. Strangely enough, there is alittle romance here, for Lady Brenton's husband was once engaged to MissCheyne, and I believe jilted her for his wife, so that a feud existsbetween the two families. But I believe it will be another case ofRomeo and Juliet, for Lady Margaret is deeply in love with Sir Edgar,the only son of the squire, and there is no doubt that they will getmarried soon and then----"
"They will live happily ever afterward," flung back Cleek, laughingsoftly. "Ah, youth, youth!" His words died away on his lips, and a lookof indescribable pain, amounting almost to despair, crossed hisfeatures, and for a time only the soft whirr of the car was heard as itplowed along the deserted country lane.
For some time a silence held, a silence which was poignant withmemories. The country cottage was nearly in sight when Ailsa spokeagain.
"I think I will wake her up now, so that I may be assured she knowswhere to find me in case she is lonely," she said softly, and smiled upinto his face. "I have taken a great fancy to that child, dear, andperhaps I may be able to help her."
For answer Cleek slowed down the car that she could climb into the back.
Lady Margaret was still sound asleep, so sound that not even the openingand closing of the door disturbed her slumbers, and as Ailsa looked downon the delicate, upturned face, she gave a little sigh of regret athaving to arouse her.
Very gently she placed her arm round the sleeping figure and raised herin the seat. The girl gave a little cry of distress.
"It is all right, dear," said Ailsa, tenderly, "you are quite safe butnearly home. I thought I had better rouse you."
"Oh, I remember now." Lady Margaret shook herself, to bring herscattered wits together. "For a minute I couldn't think. But I feel muchbetter, dear Miss Lorne. Oh! It is good of you to have taken so muchtrouble. I am so glad we are going to be neighbours."
"Friends, too, I hope," said Ailsa with a little smile. "Would you likeme to come all the way home with you, or do you think you will be allright by yourself."
"Oh, quite all right, dear Miss Lorne," replied the girl with a forlornlittle smile that went straight to Ailsa's heart. "We certainly shall befriends, and I am sure Auntie will be grateful to you, too, but she hasalways been undemonstrative, and I would not think of letting you go outof your way, if you are sure your friend, I forget now----"
"Lieutenant Deland," said Ailsa, promptly, "a very good friend to me,and you may safely entrust yourself to his care, dear. I do not wantMiss Cheyne to think us intrusive, so if you are sure you are quiterestored by the little sleep just drive on and when you get home, donot trouble to thank Lieutenant Deland at all unless you like. And Iwill call and see Miss Cheyne to-morrow and explain how ill and tiredyou were. Good-bye, my child, and a good night's rest to you."
The girl returned her kiss willingly, and as the car slowed down outsidethe gates of the little riverside cottage, Ailsa opened the door andalighted.
"I have roused her now," she said gently to Cleek, sitting sphinx-likeat the steering wheel, "and I think she will be all right. I wouldgladly drive all the way home with her, but I know Miss Cheyne is aneccentric being who loathes strangers at the best of times, and as shehas probably seen me walking with Lady Brenton, she would most likelyresent my interference. So you see, dear, I must leave the unpleasanttask of facing the old lady and explaining matters to you."
Cleek smiled down at her tenderly. "I would face greater dangers thanthat, Ailsa," he said in a low, tender tone. "You know I am only happyin helping you, and those you are helping. I cannot see why Miss Cheyneshould prove disagreeable, indeed she ought to be very grateful to youfor rescuing her niece from the dangers that a big city might offer to ayoung, innocent child."
Ailsa shuddered.
"Yes. I myself don't mind what she says, so long as I know Sir Edgar's_fiancee_ is safe. I daresay Lady Brenton will contrive to waylay herto-morrow, and then----"
"Journeys end in lovers' meetings, eh?" concluded Cleek, with a littlelaugh of pure happiness.
"Well, I mustn't complain. I, too, look forward to a to-morrow.Good-night, my Ailsa."
She looked into his face with tender eyes. Their hands met and claspedin the silence that speaks more than words. Then she turned upon herheel and sped away into the shadows, while Cleek took the steering wheelonce more. He sent the car rocketing onward toward the house which wasto witness a tragedy, a tragedy that was about to set the world agape,and spin a riddle that even Cleek himself would find almost impossibleto solve.