The mystery of the Emperor"s att.i.tude deepened when Walter learned that Nur Mahal was, indeed, a palace menial. Even the weather-c.o.c.k courtier, skilled in the art of polite evasion, did not scruple to show his contempt for feminine influences at the best.
"I have seen many such b.u.t.terflies dancing in the sun," he said scoffingly. "They are very brilliant until the rain falls, or some hungry bird eats them."
His orders were to conduct the Englishmen and their followers to Dilkusha, where they would be in the midst of familiar surroundings, and it was Jahangir"s wish to receive them that afternoon. When Mowbray insisted that Fra Pietro should come with them the envoy was dubious at first, but Walter would not yield the point, which was ultimately conceded. As for the others, they were to bide in their present camp until arrangements were made for their disposal.
"Gad!" cried Roger, paying some heed to this statement, "that will not be to Matilda"s liking!"
"Have affairs come to the pa.s.s that you may not be parted?" asked Walter, roguishly, his perplexities vanishing for the moment as he pictured the Countess"s agitation when told she was to be separated from her cavalier.
""Tis to me a matter of no great cavil," was the reply, "but the poor body will surely miss me when the mule crosses a bad bit of road."
"Why not bring her with us?"
"Aye. That is to be thought of. There are always more ways of killing a dog than choking him wi" b.u.t.ter."
"But you must marry the lady first, Roger. At a pinch, Fra Pietro--"
"The devil fly off with thee and thy pinching! Who spoke of marrying?
Thy humor, at times, Walter, is dry as the Swale after a drought."
"From what I have seen of the Countess I fear that marriage will be the only cure for her affliction."
"By the cross of Osmotherly!" cried Sainton, hotly, "if that be her malady she will ail a long time ere I give her physic. Marry, forsooth!
If ever I seek a wife, which I greatly doubt, I"ll hitch up wi" a la.s.s from my own dales. Not that Matilda is ill-looking, or, for that matter, as skittish as some I have seen, but may the Lord help any woman I bring to Wensley afore my mother runs an eye over her!"
"I fear, then, her Ladyship must remain here w.i.l.l.y-nilly."
Sainton, more annoyed than he cared to show, drew his long neglected sword and began to burnish it affectionately.
"Thou hast a toad"s tongue at times, lad," he growled, breathing on the steel before rubbing it to a fine sheen. "The thing had not troubled me a whit hadst thou not spoken of it, but, now I come to think over bygones, I am constrained to admit that mayhap her Ladyship may have construed my actions amiss. Women are oft p.r.o.ne to look through a c.h.i.n.k when the door is open all the time. On my soul I fear to face her. My hang-dog looks will betray me and she"ll upbraid me. Go thou, Walter, and tell her--tell her--"
"That thou hast no mind to wed. Nay, Roger, that would be ungallant, to say the least."
"Tell her any glib lie that will get me safely away. Samson was half conquered when it was known wherein his strength lay, and my only sure refuge is flight if a woman attacks. Poor Matilda! I would I had the heart to appease her. Yet I am not for matrimony, and no barber can make a wig of a hide that is bald of wool. But I vow you have vexed me by your niceties. Drat the thing! I trust the bit of Latinity our worthy friar gave me yester e"en is sound sense, else I"ll mope for a week."
"And what was that, Roger?" asked Mowbray, turning to hide a smile from his wrathful friend.
"He spoke to me of certain pa.s.sages twixt you and Nur Mahal, as he built somewhat on her power despite Jai Singh"s story. Yet he sighed and said: "Quid vento? Mulier. Quid muliere? Nihil!" It tickled my fancy to put the quip into rhyme:--
"More fickle than wind Is woman"s mind; More fickle than woman Naught you"ll find."
Beshrew me! It fitted Nur Mahal all right, but the cap seems to sit awry when worn by my jolly and pleasant-spoken Countess. What! Would you grin at me, you dog, like a clown gaping through a horse-collar? I"ll wager, were the business yours, you"d carry a longer jowl."
"On my word, Roger, if you trumpet so loudly I must even believe that my Elephant is sore wounded. Why say aught to-day to the Countess? Once we are sped on some new path I promise to write her on your behalf, and in such a strain that any silly notions she may be harboring shall vanish after a day"s fasting."
"Ecod, you know not Matilda. She would not miss her dinner for twenty men. And that is what draws me to her. A plague on all weddings, I say.
They mar a woman and vex a man. What the devil! A nice thing Noah did for the world when he took nowt but pairs into the Ark."
Nevertheless, though angered by his tardy discovery, Sainton was far too good-natured to steal away covertly from the genial presence of the Countess di Cabota. He cudgeled his brains to invent some reasonable excuse for bidding her farewell. Finally he hit upon an expedient that pleased him greatly, and chased the unwonted frown from his cheerful face.
In view of the expected state visit to Jahangir he had donned his best garments, which, though soiled, were yet free from rents, and never a finer man trod the iron earth of India than Roger that day when, with his four-foot sword clanking against his thigh, he approached the Countess"s camping-place. Already, of course, rumor had been busy. The perturbation of Fateh Mohammed and the haughty curling of Rajput mustaches which followed the advent of Jahangir"s envoy told some portion of the tale to the stealthy-eyed natives. Gossip did the rest.
Roger found the Countess all agog with joyous hope.
"_Por gracia di Dios!_" she cried, clapping her hands, "now that I see you wearing your sword I know that what I have been told is true."
"I" faith, Matilda, you are a rare hand at guessing sheep when you smell roast mutton," was his hearty greeting. ""Tis indeed true that some favoring star hath moved the king to deal with us kindly. Perchance "tis the moon, which is said to rule certain humans. But my news is stale. I come to take leave of you."
The Countess"s ruddy cheeks paled beneath the tan of long exposure to the open air, and a spasm of fear dilated her pretty eyes.
"To take leave of me! _Mater misericordiae!_ What say you?"
"Nay, my bonny Countess, you read my words wrongly. Master Mowbray and I are bidden ride ahead to meet the Emperor. That is all."
"You will return ere night?"
Roger stroked his chin with dubious calculation. The action enabled him to avoid her startled glance.
"I have my doubts," he said, and, not so sure now of the simplicity of his errand, wisely added not another word.
"Do you mean that you go on to Agra and leave me here with--with Fateh Mohammed?"
There was a directness, yet a veiled inference, in the question that did not escape him.
"Be reasonable, Matilda," he pleaded. "We go but to prepare the way. You forget that Jahangir, for some reason not known to any of us, is changing his plans. From fire and murder he hath turned to clemency. It may be that he thinks some quiet talk with Master Mowbray may clear the thorns from his new path."
"Then let Master Mowbray go to him, and you bide here."
"That cannot be. It would argue distrust."
"I think I understand," said the Countess, quietly, with all a woman"s irritating a.s.sumption of the truth when a man would soothe her with a plausible tale.
Roger, whose wit was keen enough when he encountered opposition, was helpless before this pa.s.sive att.i.tude. Yet he blundered on, trusting to luck to extricate him. He fumbled with a small package he took from his breast, and swayed from one foot to the other, losing some of his gallant air in an att.i.tude which reflected his mental stress.
"There"s nowt to make sike a pother about," he growled. "We haste to Agra, you follow more slowly, and that is all there is to it. But you are in sad plight, Matilda, after these weary days of travel, without a st.i.tch to your old clothes, so to speak, or means to buy new ones. Now, a lady of your condition should be garbed more reputably. Though I doubt not Jahangir will treat you generously in his altered mood, I would not have you wholly dependent on his tardy grace. I have no money, but here is money"s worth, and it can never be put to better use than in purchasing the wherewithal to adorn you."
So saying, and thankful that the concluding sentence, which he had concocted with some care, had not escaped his memory, he dropped Sher Afghan"s magnificent gold chain into her lap, for the Countess was sitting on a saddle outside the tent.
She bent forward, as if to examine the present, pa.s.sing each of the fine turquoises with which it was set mechanically through her fingers. She managed so well that her voice seemed to be under control.
"You are very kind and thoughtful," she said in a low tone. "I am, indeed, much in need of repair."
"Gad! I would smite sorely the man who said so. I spoke of the husk, not of the kernel."
"And I shall value the gift highly," she continued.
"Stick out for the last rupee. These Agra goldsmiths are thieves. If not the whole, you might sell a portion."
Her head drooped a little more.