“Yes. He has started upon a journey across the plains – returning to his home, I think.”
To his surprise Janet smiled and began twisting up her disordered hair.
“Very well, dear,” she answered, carelessly, and as if dismissing the subject from her mind as unimportant she turned to renew her conversation with Bessie.
Suddenly a scuffle was heard in the passage.
“I’ve got him! I’ve got him!” called the voice of Dr. Warner; and then the draperies were pulled aside and the Colonel and the doctor rushed into the room dragging between them a nondescript form from which came yells of protest in a high minor key.
“We’ve got him!” shouted the Colonel, triumphantly, as the prisoner was dumped in the center of the room.
“Land of mercy! What have you got?” demanded Aunt Lucy, glaring upon the strange object with amazement.
The doctor drew out his handkerchief and mopped his forehead vigorously.
“He speaks English!” he answered, impressively, waving the handkerchief in the direction of the limp captive.
Janet laughed, almost hysterically; but the others stared with marked interest at the man who could speak English.
He was exceedingly short in stature, and likewise exceedingly squat and round of form. His head was entirely bald except for a bushy lock upon the very top, but a long beard, tangled, unkempt and grizzled, reached nearly to his middle. His cheeks were fat, his eyes small and beady, and his nose so curved that its point was perpetually lost in the flowing beard. For costume the man wore a gown of red and white quilted silk that Aunt Lucy afterward declared reminded her of a bath robe, except that no word signifying “bath” could ever be properly applied to either the robe or the wearer. There were sandals upon his grimy feet and a leathern pouch hung at his girdle.
“Wherever in the world did you get him?” asked Bessie, drawing a long breath.
“Energy and enterprise will accomplish anything,” replied the doctor, proudly. “The Colonel and I went to the booths this morning to search for tobacco. All the shops in this infernal town are mere booths, you know, and all are located against the inner side of the city wall. Until today we had never visited any of these places except the nearest ones, for they all look alike. But good tobacco is a scarce article in Mekran, and we kept circling around the wall until we came to one dirty little hole where this man sat. To our surprise and joy he answered us in English. We fell on his neck – I believe the Colonel kissed him – and then we seized him and brought him here.”
“I do not remember kissing him,” retorted the Colonel, with twinkling eyes. “It must have been the doctor.”
“Oh, Luther!” said Aunt Lucy, horrified. “How could you ever do it?”
“He speaks English,” replied the doctor. “We’ve adopted him.”
A whine came from the prostrate victim.
“What’s his name?” asked Allison.
“Hi, there. What’s your name?” questioned the doctor, stirring the bundle with his foot.
“Davit, goot Excellency,” came the meek reply.
“Stand up, David, so we can get a good look at you,” said the Colonel.
So David rolled over and with some difficulty scrambled to his feet. Miss Warner began to giggle, and Janet laughed outright. Even Aunt Lucy allowed a grim smile to rest upon her wrinkled features.
“Who are you, David?” enquired the doctor.
“I iss merchant, most Excellency. Chew merchant.”
“Where did you learn English?”
“From mine fadder, who vas a Cherman merchant unt lived in Kelat.”
“Who taught him English?”
David looked reproachful.
“He knew it, most High Excellency. Mine fadder could shbeak anyt’ing efferyvhere.”
“Except the truth, I suppose. Tell me, David; are you rich?”
The Jew cast a frightened look around him.
“All I haf in de vorlt,” he moaned, “iss in my pouch. If you rob de pouch I am nodding any more whateffer!”
The Colonel with a sudden motion grasped the pouch and jerked it free from the girdle. Then, while David wept real tears of anguish, his tormentor emptied the contents of the pouch upon the table. These consisted of a miscellaneous collection of native coins of very little value.
“Really, you are very poor, David,” the Colonel remarked.
“I am vorse, goot Excellency,” he replied, encouraged by the tone. “Who iss so misserable ass Davit? Who iss so poor, so frientless, so efferyt’ing? I shall go dead!”
“Don’t do that, David. If a man is poor, he should strive to get rich. Watch me,” and the Colonel took a handful of gold from his pocket and threw it into the pouch, afterward adding the former insignificant contents. The injunction to watch this proceeding was wholly unnecessary. David’s eyes sparkled like diamonds and he trembled with eagerness while the Colonel carefully tied the mouth of the pouch. Then, tossing the bag from hand to hand so that it jingled merrily, he said:
“This is real wealth, David – good yellow gold. And it shall all be yours, with an equal sum added to it, if you consent to serve us faithfully.”
David fell upon his knees and waved his short arms frantically toward the pouch.
“I vill do anyt’ing, great Excellency! I vill be serfant – I vill be slafe! Yes, I vill be brudder to you all!”
“Very good,” returned the Colonel. He walked to a massive cabinet, elaborately carved, that was built into the wall of the room. Unlocking a drawer he tossed the pouch within and then carefully relocked it and placed the key in his own pocket.
There was a look of despair on David’s face. He still knelt upon the floor, his arms rigidly outstretched toward the cabinet.
“Now, David,” continued the Colonel, calmly, while the others looked on, much amused, “you must not forget that you are going to be very rich, and that all this money – doubled, and perhaps tripled – will be yours as soon as you have earned it. And you are going to earn it by speaking English, and translating our speech to natives, and by doing exactly what we tell you to do, at all times and under all circumstances. But if you deceive me – if you prove unfaithful in any way – you will never see your pouch again.”
“I vill shpik Engliss all day! I vill do anyt’ing!” protested David.
“Once,” said the doctor, “a man proved faithless to us. And what do you suppose happened to him, David? Well, you couldn’t guess. I skinned him very carefully and stuffed him with sawdust, and now he sits on a shelf in my home with a lovely smile on his face and two glass eyes that all observers consider very beautiful.”
David groaned.
“I am true man, most Excellency! I half neffer deceive. I neffer can deceive!
“We shall trust you,” said the doctor, gravely. “I feel quite certain you will never deserve to be stuffed with sawdust.”
“How absurd!” ejaculated Aunt Lucy. “Do give him a bath and some decent clothes, and stop bothering him. If we’ve got to have the fellow around let’s make him respectable.”
“That is a task that can only be performed outwardly,” returned the doctor, imperturbably. “But even that is worthy of consideration. Come, Allison, let us see what can be done toward the renovation of David.”
As the shuffling form of “the man who could speak English” disappeared through the archway, Aunt Lucy, who had been shrewdly studying his face, remarked oracularly:
“He’s playing possum. You mark my words, that Jew’s no fool. If he was, he wouldn’t be a Jew.”
CHAPTER XII
THE GIRL ON THE DIVAN
“Now this,” said the Colonel, “is to be a council of war. We are in grave difficulties, and may as well look the matter straight in the face.”
The little band of Americans seemed all to agree with him, for it was with fitting gravity that they turned their eyes upon the leader of the Commission – all except Aunt Lucy, whose wondering gaze was full upon little David, resplendent in his new costume. David’s outer robe was orange and white, and his inner garb brilliant green. An orange turban was twisted around his bald head and orange hose covered his stubby legs. This gorgeousness was due to a whim of the doctor, and it appeared to be eminently satisfactory to David. A native barber had trimmed and curled his straggling beard and the Jew had been scrubbed and scented so thoroughly that he had a fresh and wholesome look which was in strong contrast to his former unkempt condition.
“If he is to be our emissary and interpreter,” the doctor had said, “he must be made worthy of the great Commission, and in this barbarous country color is everything.”
“Then,” replied Aunt Lucy, “David is everything. He reminds me of a brass band on parade.”
David was now present at the council, seated between the Colonel and the doctor.
“In the first place,” resumed the leader, “we must acknowledge that we are virtually prisoners in this town, possessing no means in the way of animals or attendants of getting away. David has talked with the servants in this house and has discovered that we are guests of his Highness the Khan, who has ordered us supplied with every comfort that can be procured. Why the khan has taken an interest in our affairs – we being entire strangers to him – is a deep mystery. Unless he feels that he owes us some compensation for having driven Kasam out of Mekran.”
“Did he drive Kasam out?” asked Bessie.
“I understand from David that there is room for but one on the throne, and Ahmed Khan naturally prefers to sit there himself. So our friend Kasam made tracks and left us to shift for ourselves. All of the tribe of Raab, a powerful clan in Baluchistan, have deserted Ahmed and joined Kasam, who is in open revolt.”
“Would it not be safer for us to leave here and join Prince Kasam?” enquired Bessie.
“Why, I’m inclined to think, from the gossip David has picked up, that Kasam’s cause is a forlorn one, and that he’s not particularly safe himself. Ahmed Khan may wake up some day and poke him with a sharp stick. Moreover, there’s no disguising the fact that when our guide left Mekran and set up in business for himself he deliberately robbed us of the beasts we had bought and paid for with our own money, besides carrying off our Afghans, whose pay was fortunately in arrears. The Prince couldn’t well have treated us with less consideration, and in strong contrast with his actions Ahmed Khan has come to the front like a man and taken care of us. Let’s pin our faith to Ahmed Khan.”
“Cannot we induce Ahmed to supply us with a caravan?” asked Allison.
“That’s the point. That is, it’s one point. We mustn’t lose sight of the fact that we came here to get a right of way for the railroad. The first concession to get from the Khan is the right of way. The means to journey back to the railway at Quettah is the second consideration, although no less important. These things being accomplished, we will have performed our duty to the Syndicate and to ourselves.”
“When will they be accomplished?” enquired Aunt Lucy, in brisk, matter-of-fact tones.
“Ahem! That I cannot say, to a day, my dear Mrs. Higgins. The fact is, I’ve sent David twice to the Khan, with demands in writing for an interview. But David can’t get within a mile of the Khan, notwithstanding his impressive costume – which cost eight fillibees, native money.”
“The Khan,” added the doctor musingly, “is quite an exclusive personage. His Highness’ guards have threatened to tattoo our dear David unless he ceases to bother them.”
David groaned, thereby concurring in this statement.
“Then what is to be done?” asked Janet, who had displayed a lively interest in her father’s discourse.
The Colonel shook his head, rather despondently.
“What do you suggest, David?” asked the doctor.
David had been earnestly regarding the cabinet in which his gold was stored. Now, however, being addressed, he reluctantly withdrew his eyes from the vicinity of his treasure, heaved a deep sigh as if awakening from a happy dream, and said:
“Vy nod try de vizier?”
“What vizier?”
“De grant vizier, Agahr. He iss de biggest man here ven der Khan he iss somevhere else.”
“That seems a practical hint,” said the Colonel. “I’ll write a new letter, addressed to the vizier.”
David turned uneasily in his seat.
“Letters, most Excellency, iss a bad vay. Noboddy takes letters to Agahr de vizier. Dey go talk mit Agahr.”
“Will he see people?”
“Vy nod? He iss vizier.”
“Then one of us had best go and interview him, and take David along for interpreter,” decided the Colonel promptly.
“He speaks such lovely English!” added Aunt Lucy, with a toss of her head.
“The vizier won’t hear his English,” said the doctor, “and I suspect David’s native dialect is somewhat clearer and more comprehensive. Otherwise he’d have been murdered long ago. Now then, who’ll tackle the vizier?”
“I’ll go,” replied Allison, to the surprise of all. “I’m tired of hanging around doing nothing, and this mission promises a bit of excitement.”
“Very good,” said his father, pleased at the remark. “Be firm with him, Allison. Insist upon his securing an interview for me with the Khan, and also tell the vizier we want a caravan to take us to Quettah. Let him understand we have plenty of money to pay for what we require.”
“I’ll do the best I can,” said Allison. “Come, David.”
…
Agahr had just awakened from his afternoon siesta and was sitting with Maie in a cool, darkened room. Both the vizier and his daughter were in a happy mood.
“There has been a more agreeable atmosphere at the palace since the Persian physician went away,” said the old man. “The fellow had a suspicious manner of looking at me, as if he knew all my secret thoughts and intended to betray them.”
“I hate the man!” exclaimed Maie, with a shiver of her rounded shoulders.
“And I,” answered Agahr. “But he is gone. Let us hope he will never return.”
“Yet the Khan liked him?” said the girl, enquiringly.
“They were old friends, although their ages differ so widely; and there is a secret between them, of some sort. The physician, who dominated everyone else, was very gentle with Ahmed.”
“That was his cunning,” declared Maie. “It is not wise to attempt to rule Ahmed Khan.” She broke off suddenly, and nestling closer to Agahr upon the divan she asked, in soft accents: “Do you think he is attracted toward me, my father?”
“He has eyes for no one else when you are by,” returned the vizier, fondly caressing the girl’s hand. “But that is not strange, my Maie. You are more beautiful than the houris of Paradise.”
She sighed, very gently, as if the tribute was sweet.
“And how does Ahmed Khan spend his days?” she enquired. “Do the dancing girls still amuse him?”
“He has sent all the dancing girls away,” was the reply, “and every inmate of Burah’s harem, both young and old, has been conveyed by Melka to the Castle of Ugg, far away in the South country.”
“I wonder why?” said the girl, thoughtfully. “Perhaps, having been a priest so long, he does not care for women.”
Agahr smiled.
“Then why is he improving and beautifying the harem? he asked.
“Is he?” she cried, starting up.
“The apartments of the women were turned over to an army of workmen a week ago. In another week the harem will be beautiful beyond compare. And the gardens and Court of the Maidens are being made magnificent with rare plants and exquisite flowers. That is not an indication, my beauty, that the Khan does not care for women.”
“True,” she returned, and sat as if lost in thought. Then she asked:
“What woman, besides myself, has the Khan looked kindly upon?”
“None,” answered the vizier, without hesitation. “It was only this morning he spoke to me of you, asking how many summers you had seen and saying you were rarely beautiful.”
She smiled contentedly.
“How wise we were, oh my father, to abandon the cause of the Pretender and ally ourselves with Ahmed Khan.”
“Kasam is too weak and unreliable to become a leader of men,” returned the vizier, calmly.
“Yet for years – while Burah Khan grew aged – I imagined I should become the queen of Kasam’s harem, and plotted shrewdly to place him upon the throne. Is it not amusing, my father, to remember that I learned to speak the awkward English tongue, just because Kasam had lived in England and spoke that language?”
“It was time wasted,” said the vizier. “But that reminds me that those American travellers are still in Mekran. I wonder why the Khan is keeping them.”
Maie started.
“Are there not women among them?” she asked.
“Two or three of the party are women.”
“Are they beautiful?”
Agahr laughed, and pinched her cheek.
“There are no beautiful women but ours,” he returned, “and of them you are the queen, my Maie! However, jealous one, the Khan has never looked upon these foreign women, nor does he care to.”
“Then why does he keep the Americans here? Will he permit them to build their railway?”
“Indeed, no,” said the vizier. “He agrees with me that a railway would ruin our country. But why he will neither see the Americans nor permit them to depart from Mekran is really a mystery.”
“Ah, I must discover it!” the girl exclaimed, earnestly. “When a thing is not understood it is dangerous. And it is well to beware of all women, even though they be foreigners and ugly of form and feature. I can manage any man who lives, my father, be he khan or vizier,” with a smile into his face; “but even the far-seeing Prophet failed to understand my sex aright.”
“I have put a spy in the household of the Americans,” said Agahr.
“Whom?”
“David the Jew.”
“David is clever,” said Maie, thoughtfully. “But will he be faithful? Gold is his only master.”
“I have promised, if David is faithful, to purchase from him those wonderful African pearls – at his own price. That will make him rich, and the pearls will be your bridal gift, my daughter.”
She clasped her hands, ecstatically.
“And the great diamond that David brought from Algiers? What of that?”
“The Khan himself has purchased it, by my advice.”
“Then it shall be mine!” she whispered. “You have done well, my father. How long has David been with the Americans?”
“Three days. I expect him here, presently, for the foreigners begin to grow impatient of restraint, and I have told David to let me quiet them with promises.”
“Question the Jew closely when he comes, concerning the Americans. I must know more of them, and we must watch them closely.”
The vizier arose, arranged his robe, and with slow steps left the room to cross a passage that admitted him to the apartment wherein he was wont to receive visitors on affairs of state. The fringe of the drapery caught as he threw it back, and hung partially open behind him; but neither he nor Maie, who still reclined upon her divan, noted this.
Scarcely was Agahr seated in his great velvet-lined chair of state when a slave entered to announce the arrival of David and the young American, who desired an audience.
The vizier hesitated, in deep thought, mindful of Maie’s injunctions. Finally he said to the slave:
“Admit David the Jew to my presence; but tell him the American must wait in the outer chamber until he is summoned.”
So presently little David entered the room, drawing the draperies closely behind him and then turning to bow cringingly before the vizier.
Allison waited impatiently. Why should Agahr wish to speak with David in secret? It looked decidedly suspicious, thought the young man, and after a few moments he arose and glanced down the passage. He seemed to be entirely alone, and the heavy rugs would deaden any sound of footsteps.
Stealthily he made his way down the passage toward the crimson draperies that had fallen behind David’s pudgy form. On his way he passed an entrance on the opposite side, to which the curtain hung half open, displaying the dim interior of the room. And then he paused as if fascinated, his eyes fixed upon the most exquisite picture he had ever beheld.
Maie lay carelessly stretched upon the divan, her robe thrown back, her arms crossed behind her head and the outlines of her rounded limbs showing daintily through the folds of soft mulle that enveloped them. Her eyes, languid and dark, gazed full into those of the intruder, and as she noted his enraptured face she smiled in a way that instantly robbed Allison of all caution or even a realization of his delicate position in this household. In two strides he was by her side, kneeling at the divan and clasping the unresisting hands of the girl in both his own.
“Oh, my darling!” he whispered, looking deep into the lustrous eyes, “how very, very beautiful you are!”
Such sincere tribute was beyond Maie’s power to resist. The little head might be full of ambitions, schemes and intrigues, yet there was room for a vivid appreciation of man’s adoration, and this abrupt method of wooing was sure to appeal to her Eastern imagination. She sighed, forgetful of all save the handsome face bent over her, and only the sound of her father’s stern voice coming from the opposite chamber had power to recall her to the present.
“You must go, my American,” she said, in clear English, “or you will be discovered.”
“Ah, you speak my language?” said Allison, in delight; “then you will understand me, sweet one, when I tell you how lovely you are – how passionately I adore you!”
He clasped his arms around her and drew her so close that her bosom rested against his own. The red lips were nearer now – so near that he kissed them again and again, in a very abandon of ecstatic joy.
“They will find you,” said Maie, softly. “And they will kill you.”
“What does it matter?” he rejoined, recklessly. “One moment such as this is worth a hundred deaths!”
With a sudden movement she freed herself from his embrace and sat up, facing him.
“Take this key,” she whispered, drawing it from her bosom, where it was secured by a silken thread. “It unlocks the Gate of the Griffins, at the end of our garden. Meet me there tonight – an hour before midnight – and take care you are seen by no prying eye. And now, go – and go quickly!”
She broke the thread and handed him a tiny silver key, which he thrust into his pocket.
“One kiss, sweetheart,” he begged; “just one more to comfort me until – ”
“Go, or all is lost,” she answered, almost fiercely, and seizing his arm she dragged him to another doorway and thrust him from the room with a force her slender form did not seem to warrant.
It was time. Allison heard footsteps and voices, and staggering through an ante-room he barely had time to reach the outer chamber and throw himself into a chair when David and a slave entered.
“Hiss goot Excellency, de vizier, vill see you,” said David, looking with open surprise into Allison’s flushed and excited face.
“I must have fallen asleep, David,” said the American, reaching out his arms as if to stretch them, “for I dreamed I was in Paradise, and you were imploring the Prophet to pardon my sins.”
David grinned, and turned to lead him to the vizier. But the Jew’s keen eyes had made a hasty survey of the room, and noted a curtain swaying gently where no breeze could ever have reached it.