LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

bold way, with abundant raven hair and a complexion that would have been no worse for a touch of rouge. She seemed to scorn all the conventional refinements, though. Her lacy white dress, open at the neck, was creased and not too clean, but she wore in her bosom one great jewel like a ruby, set in brilliants, that gave the lie to poverty provided the gems were real. And the amber tube through which she smoked a cigarette was seven or eight inches long and had diamonds set in a gold band round its middle. She wore no wedding ring that I could see; and she took no more notice of Will Yerkes beside her than if he had been a part of the furniture.

      "Why do you ask?" asked Monty, starting upstairs. She had to make way for him, for Will Yerkes stood his ground.

      "A fair question!" she laughed. Her voice had a hard ring, but was very well trained and under absolute control. I received the impression that she had been a singer at some time. "I am Lady Saffren Waldon—Isobel Saffren Waldon."

      Fred and I had followed Monty up and were close behind him. I heard him mutter, "Oh, lord!" under his breath.

      "I knew your brother," she added.

      "I know you did."

      "You think that gives me no claim on your acquaintance? Perhaps it doesn't. But as an unprotected woman—"

      "There is the Residency," objected Monty, "and the law."

      She laughed bitterly. "Thank you, I am in need of no passage home! I overheard that ruffian say, and I think I heard you say too that you are going to England. I want you to take a message for me."

      "There is a post-office here," said Monty without turning a hair. He looked straight into her iron eyes. "There is a cable station. I will lend you money to cable with."

      "Thank you, my Lord!" she sneered. "I have money. I am so used to being snubbed that my skin would not feel a whip! I want you to take a verbal message!"

      It was perfectly evident that Monty would rather have met the devil in person than this untidy dame; yet he was only afraid apparently of conceding her too much claim on his attention. (If she had asked favors of me I don't doubt I would have scrambled to be useful. I began mentally taking her part, wondering why Monty should treat her so cavalierly; and I fancy Yerkes did the same.)

      "Tell me the message, and I'll tell you whether I'll take it," said

       Monty.

      She laughed again, even more bitterly.

      "If I could tell it on these stairs," she answered, "I could cable it.

       They censor cablegrams, and open letters in this place."

      "I suspect that isn't true," said Monty. "But if you object to witnesses, how do you propose to deliver your message to me?" he asked pointedly.

      "You mean you refuse to speak with me alone?"

      "My friends would draw out of earshot," he answered.

      "Your friends? Your gang, you mean!" She drew herself up very finely—very stately. Very lovely she was to look at in that half-light, with the shadows of Tippoo Tib's* old stairway hiding her tale of years. But I felt my regard for her slipping downhill (and so, I rather think did Yerkes). "You look well, Lord Montdidier, trapesing about the earth with a leash of mongrels at your heel! Falstaff never picked up a more sordid-looking pack! What do you feed them—bones? Are there no young bloods left of your own class, that you need travel with tradesmen?"

      ——————- * The principal hotel In Zanzibar was formerly Tippoo Tib's residence, quite a magnificent mansion for that period and place. ——————-

      Monty stood with both hands behind him and never turned a hair. Fred Oakes brushed up the ends of that troubadour mustache of his and struck more or less of an attitude. Will reddened to the ears, and I never felt more uncomfortable in all my life.

      "So this is your gang, is it?" she went on. "It looks sober at present! I suppose I must trust you to control them! I dare say even tavern brawlers respect you sufficiently to keep a lady's secret if you order them. I will hope they have manhood enough to hold their tongues!"

      Of course, dressed in the best that Zanzibar stores had to offer we scarcely looked like fashion plates. My shirt was torn where Coutlass had seized it to resist being thrown out, but I failed to see what she hoped to gain by that tongue lashing, even supposing we had been the lackeys she pretended to believe we were.

      "The message is to my brother," she went on.

      "I don't know him!" put in Monty promptly.

      "You mean you don't like him! Your brother had him expelled from two or three clubs, and you prefer not to meet him! Nevertheless, I give you this message to take to him! Please tell him—you will find him at his old address—that I, his sister, Lady Saffren Waldon, know now the secret of Tippoo Tib's ivory. He is to join me here at once, and we will get it, and sell it, and have money, and revenge! Will you tell him that!"

      "No!" answered Monty.

      I looked at Yerkes, Yerkes looked at Fred, and Fred at me.

      There was nothing to do but feel astonished.

      "Why not, if you please?"

      "I prefer not to meet Captain McCauley," said Monty.

      "Then you will give the message to somebody else?" she insisted.

      "No" said Monty. "I will carry no message for you."

      "Why do you say that? How dare you say that? In front of your following—your gang!"

      I should have been inclined to continue the argument myself—to try to find out what she did know, and to uncover her game. It was obvious she must have some reason for her extraordinary request, and her more extraordinary way of making it. But Monty saw fit to stride past her through his open bedroom door, and shut it behind him firmly. We stood looking at her and at one another stupidly until she turned her back and went to her own room on the floor above. Then we followed Monty.

      "Did she say anything else?" he asked as soon as we were inside. I noticed he was sweating pretty freely now.

      "Didums, you're too polite!" Fred answered. "You ought to have told her to keep her tongue housed or be civil!"

      "I don't hold with hitting back at a lone woman," said Yerkes, "but what was she driving at? What did she mean by calling us a pack of mongrels?"

      "Merely her way," said Monty offhandedly. "Those particular McCauleys never amounted to much. She married a baronet, and he divorced her. Bad scandal. Saffren Waldon was at the War Office. She stole papers, or something of that sort—delivered them to a German paramour—von Duvitz was his name, I think. She and her brother were lucky to keep out of jail. Ever since then she has been—some say a spy, some say one thing, some another. My brother fell foul of her, and lived to regret it. She's on her last legs I don't doubt, or she wouldn't be in Zanzibar."

      "Then why the obvious nervous sweat you're in?" demanded Fred.

      "And that doesn't account for the abuse she handed out to us," said

       Yerkes.

      "Why not tip off the authorities that she's a notorious spy?" I asked.

      "I suspect they know all about her," he answered.

      "But why your alarm?" insisted Fred.

      "I'm scarcely alarmed, old thing. But it's pretty obvious, isn't it, that she wants us to believe she knows what we're after. She's vindictive. She imagines she owes me a grudge on my brother's account. It might soothe her to think she had made me nervous. And by gad—it sounds like lunacy, and mind you I'm not propounding it for fact!—there's just one chance that she really does know where the ivory is!"

      "But where's the sense of abusing us?" repeated Yerkes.

      "That's the poor thing's way of claiming class superiority," said Monty. "She was born into one class, married into another, and divorced into a third. She'd

Скачать книгу