Monny had bought Oriental costumes for herself and Rachel. They were rather conspicuous, luckily for Biddy"s plan, for among the many gorgeous dresses in the Casino she had no difficulty in tracking those two. Until half past eleven, she told herself, she need not be on the alert every instant; but therein had lain her mistake. Sir Marcus Lark had appeared, dressed (more or less) as a Roman officer of the Occupation days, he having heard Mrs. East remark that, "whatever _anybody_ said, it was her favourite period." The lady, of course, had not missed such an opportunity to appear as Cleopatra. She had brought a costume with her from New York; and while Biddy "lost herself" in watching the effect of this magnificence on Sir Marcus, the girls vanished.
Without alarming Mrs. East, Brigit had begun to search. She asked everybody she knew in the ballroom if the girls had gone out, and inquired in the cloakroom; but the two had been seen by n.o.body. It was as if they had melted into air; and Brigit began to suspect that they must have covered up their brilliant dresses with dominoes smuggled into the Casino. Willis Bailey was at the ball, but he had developed a flirtation with Miss Guest, and Biddy felt that he was not to be trusted as a confidant. Perhaps, too, he had helped the girls to disappear. It seemed cruel to frighten Mrs. East, when the scheme, whatever it was, might be no more than an innocent freak; so Biddy said nothing to Queen Cleopatra or her Roman attendant. She slipped across the garden to the hotel, and sent an Arab messenger off in a taxi with a note to the address "Antoun" had told her would find him. In less than an hour he arrived, and when he had listened to her account of what had happened, he said after a minute"s reflection that the ladies had almost surely gone with Bedr to some hasheesh den, or a place masquerading as such. "Antoun" consoled Biddy as well as he could, by saying that no harm would come to Miss Gilder or Miss Guest. Bedr would know too well on which side his bread was b.u.t.tered to take his clients where insult or danger could reach them. Off "Antoun" went to look for the missing ones though, and a.s.sured Biddy that she should have news as soon as possible.
It was not till three o"clock that she had begun to be very anxious, and had disturbed the harmony of Sir Marcus Lark"s duet with Mrs. East.
Even then she would not have spoken had she not feared that the ball would break up, and there would be no man to appeal to!
Sir Marcus had been inclined to smile at the notion of danger; but he, like Anthony Fenton, was ignorant of any private qualms which troubled Brigit O"Brien. She could not tell him who she was, and that she considered herself far from being a "mascot" to her fellow-travellers.
If she had told, and added that she feared enemies who might for certain reasons make a mistake in Monny"s ident.i.ty, he would have laughed his hearty laugh, and said that such melodramatic things didn"t happen, even in Egypt.
"But _you_ know," Biddy appealed to me, "that melodramatic things _have_ happened to me and those near me. I"m not even _sure_ that poor Richard"s death was natural, though I watched over him like a hawk in those dreadful days when he was fearing every shadow, and we were flitting from pillar to post, with Esme. Through Richard two men were electrocuted. He used to get threatening letters forwarded from place to place, always signed with the same initials, and he wouldn"t tell me what they meant. It was because of them that he hid Esme in a convent-school before he died; for she was threatened as well as he. I, too, for the matter of that! Not that the child or I had done the organization any harm; but Esme is of his blood, and they may have thought I had more of their secrets than I really have. I"ve not used the name of O"Brien for years now, and I"ve moved about so much that sometimes I have felt I must be safe. Still, I ought perhaps not to have gone to visit Esme, though she wrote and begged me to, for special reasons I needn"t bother you with: a curious little love romance which I fear must end badly. I didn"t think of danger to Monny; but you see, as I"ve told you, the convent isn"t far from Monaco. I got off the _Laconia_ there, to visit Esme, and when I came on board again, Monny and Mrs. East and Rachel came with me. They"d been in Italy and France, and had picked up Miss Guest, who was only too enchanted to batten on Monny"s kindness and dollars. It was I who had engaged their staterooms, on a cable from Monny, long before. And if there were a spy anywhere, he might have the idea that I wanted to smuggle Esme out of her convent by a trick, and--"
"But almost every one must know Miss Gilder"s face from her photographs in newspapers," I broke in, on a stifled sob of Biddy"s. "She couldn"t be mistaken for another girl, as an unimportant young person might."
"I"m not sure. Those photographs were snapshots, and very bad, as you must know if you"ve ever seen any. Monny never gave a portrait of herself to a newspaper, and it"s years since they got hold of a good one. Besides, if she weren"t mistaken for Esme O"Brien, that wretched Bedr might have made up a plot to have her kidnapped for ransom. It was the thing Monny"s father was always afraid of--absurdly afraid of, I _used_ to think."
"I think so still," I said. "Such things don"t happen--anywhere, to a grown-up girl."
"What about Raisuli in Tangier?" Biddy challenged me. "He used to kidnap people whenever he liked. And so do lots of brigands."
"We haven"t to do with brigands."
"Oh, what"s in a name? And I wouldn"t put _anything_ past that horrid Bedr."
"As Anthony said to you, he knows which side his bread"s b.u.t.tered."
"But if he hopes some one will give him more b.u.t.ter for being wicked than he can get from us for being good?"
"Let"s not think of far-fetched contingencies, dear," said I. "Now you"ve told me all, I will try to do something--"
"May I come in?" boomed a big voice at the door. "I knocked and n.o.body answered, so I thought the room would be empty--"
Biddy dropped my hand like a hot potato. She had jumped up so quickly from our sofa that Sir Marcus Lark"s observant eyes could hardly have seen us sitting there together.
"Of course, come in," she said. "Have you anything to tell? But I"ll call Mrs. East. She won"t like you to begin without her."
Biddy darted off to an adjoining room, leaving me alone with my employer.
"What do you think of this affair?" I wanted to know. "Well," said he, "I can only judge other men by myself. If I had such a chance to appear a hero in the eyes of a pretty woman as Fenton has, I"m afraid I"d be tempted to take advantage of it, even if I had to play some trick to make myself indispensable. Now you see in a nutsh.e.l.l what I think.
Captain Fenton will certainly rescue those young ladies from a trap if he has to make the trap himself."
I was disgusted, and shrugged my shoulders. "You have a poor opinion of Fenton," I said.
"On the contrary, I think very highly of his intelligence. I"m not worrying about any one of the three, though don"t mention it to Mrs.
East or Mrs. Jones that I said so. I"ve come to tell them that my men have searched Cairo and found nothing. Not the police, you know; I haven"t applied to the police after all. I thought Fenton would be furious. And anyhow it might make talk. But I"ve paid the best dragomans in town to look sharp; and they know as much about this old place as the police do, if not more. By the way, Lord Ernest, did Corkran say anything to you about an intention to throw over his job on the _Candace_?"
"No. He said he was going to call on you, that"s all."
"He did call. I was out--on this business, as it happens. He waited, and I found him, making himself at home in my sitting-room--which I use as a kind of office. I wish I knew how many of my letters and papers he"d had time to read."
"Surely he wouldn"t--"
"I shouldn"t say "surely" was the word. I"d gone out in a hurry and left things scattered about--which isn"t my habit. When I came back, it struck me that my desk looked a bit tempting for a man with a retired conscience. I was going to keep him on the _Candace_, rather than fuss, because it wasn"t so much his fault as mine that he was the wrong man in the place. He couldn"t do any harm in Jerusalem, it seemed. Let him wail in the Jews" Wailing Place, if he"d any complaints, said I to myself. I thought he was too keen on money to resign because his silly pride was hurt. But to my surprise, he informed me that he"d come to "hand in his papers," as he called it. So much the worse for his pocket and the better for mine! Only it struck me as d--d queer, considering Corkran"s character. I wanted to ask if he"d spit out any venom to you."
"Not a drop," said I. But I, too, thought it queer, considering Corkran"s character, and the fact that having resigned of his own free will, he could hardly expect Lark to pay his way home. It even occurred to me to wonder if the resignation were not a sudden thought of the Colonel"s. He had spoken several times of going on to Palestine, and had mentioned the trip that morning. Had Sir Marcus said something inadvertently, which had so piqued Corkran that he threw over his appointment on the impulse? Or had he perhaps been dishonourable enough to glance at a letter, in which Lark referred to him in terms uncomplimentary?
As I asked myself these questions, Mrs. East came in with Brigit, and Sir Marcus forgot me. His face said "What a woman!" And anxiety was becoming to Cleopatra. It gave to her that thrilling look which only beautiful Jewesses or women of Latin race ever wear: a look of all the tragedy and mystery of womanhood since Eve. "What news of _them_?" she asked Sir Marcus, when she had given a ringed hand and an almond-eyed glance to me.
"No news exactly," said the big man, "but I feel sure your niece and her friend are safe--"
"My niece and her friend!" exclaimed Cleopatra, ungratefully frowning.
"Why do you say nothing of "Antoun?" Does n.o.body care what becomes of him?"
As she spoke, there was a knock at the door. One of the Arab servants of the hotel announced that a man had a letter for Mrs. Jones.
"Mrs. Jones?" cried Biddy. "I am Mrs. Jones. Where"s the letter?"
"That man not give it to us. He say he see you or not give it at all."
"Well, why didn"t you send him up?"
"Arab mans not let in hotel, if peoples don"t ask for them."
"An Arab! Not--not--is he a stranger?"
"Yes, Missis. Very low man. Never comed before."
"Bring him here--quick!"
Five minutes pa.s.sed. We tried to talk, but could think of nothing to say. Then the servant returned, ushering in a dwarfish Arab in a dirty white turban, and the shabby black galabeah worn only by the poor who cannot afford good materials and the bright colours loved by Egyptians.
"From Antoun Effendi?" asked Biddy, in excitement, as he held out a piece of folded paper, not in an envelope.
The man shook his head. "He spik no English," explained the servant who waited.
"_You_ talk to him," Biddy appealed to me, while Cleopatra told the hotel footman that he might go. But I had no time to question the messenger. Biddy cried out as she unfolded the paper. "Why, Duffer, inside it"s addressed to you! It says:
""For Lord Ernest Borrow. To be opened by Mrs. Jones in his absence.""
Within the outer wrapping was a second folded paper, of the same kind.
They looked like sheets torn from a notebook. And I saw that the address, scrawled in pencil, was in Anthony"s handwriting.
CHAPTER XI
THE HOUSE OF THE CROCODILE