particular value. It was the only sham thing that I had about me. It
is with my fan somewhere."
Lefroy urged the point no further. It was not policy to say too much.
The two men went off together presently, as Isa Benstein was claimed for
another dance.
"The man who finds that fan will be lucky," the Count said meaningly.
"The man who finds that fan will find nothing else," Frobisher replied.
"How on earth it has happened I don't know, but that woman has
discovered everything. Did you see her face as we were leaving? I did.
She came here in blissful ignorance of the little comedy or tragedy, or
whatever you like to call it; but she has had a warning from somebody
since supper. Lord bless you, she knows all about it. We couldn't ask
any prying questions without arousing her suspicions, though I am of
opinion that she is quite aware of the way that she has baffled us. Oh,
she is a clever woman."
"Clever as they make them. But she is only a woman, after all, my
friend, and liable to make mistakes like the rest of her sex. She has
got that stone about her."
Frobisher's eyes gleamed. He had been thinking much the same thing.
Followed by Lefroy, he repaired to the smoking-room and proffered his
hospitality. For some time the Count smoked and drank in silence,
waiting for a lead from his host. There was bound to be some kind of
explanation between them, and Lefroy preferred the lead to come from the
other.
"Silence is golden," Frobisher said, with one of his sudden grins.
"In this case," the other said. "Perhaps you would like to deal the
first hand. I shall sit tight for the present."
"I fancy it is my play," Frobisher said thoughtfully. "Fate and the
other players push us a long way off our line of policy sometimes. For
instance, I never imagined that I should be dragged into an offensive
and defensive alliance with you. But for the present it is absolutely
necessary. We must get that precious gew-gew----"
"Call it the sacred Blue Stone of Ghan and have done with it," Lefroy
growled.
"Very well, though it is hardly diplomacy. Mrs. Benstein came here
wearing the Blue Stone. You found it out quite by accident, and it was
your game to prevent me from knowing. You tried very hard, but you were
a little too much taken by surprise, especially when the Shan was
announced."
"That was a very awkward moment for me," Lefroy admitted.
"It was. Directly you came in here I guessed exactly what had happened.
As a matter of fact, I had not the least intention of your coming here
to-night, indeed I didn't know you were coming. As a matter of fact,
also, my wife cordially dislikes you, and I suppose she only asked you
out of compliment to me."
"We'll let that pass," Lefroy said. "I was startled when Mrs. Benstein
dropped her mask and the Blue Stone stood revealed. Of course, I knew
that the stone was pledged to Benstein, and that Mrs. Benstein having it
was natural enough. The doting old fool had been wheedled out of it for
the evening. But I didn't know that you knew that, and I was most
anxious to keep the information from you. But directly I came face to
face with you here, I knew that you had some deep scheme, and that you
guessed that I had got wind of it. I have worked that out."
Frobisher smoked and sipped his brandy with infinite relish.
"I always like to study a subtle mind, Count," he said. "Will you
explain your meaning?"
"Certainly, especially as I shall lose nothing by so doing. Why did you
get your wife to ask that woman here at all? I knew you had to use
something like force to bring it about. You did it because you knew
where the Blue Stone was. You advised Mrs. Benstein as to her dress, you
gave her hints on that head. You were quite aware of the extent of
Benstein's senile devotion to his wife. And you calculated that if she
adopted the ruby suggestion she would borrow the Blue Stone."
"Excellent," Frobisher said cordially. "A capital piece of reasoning.
And a very pretty scheme, though I say it myself. It came off, and only
your presence prevented my coup. Pray go on."
"There isn't much more to say. Once Mrs. Benstein was here wearing the
Blue Stone, you had no intention of her leaving with the gem in her
possession. I don't mean to say that you would have used brutal force
to get it, but I do mean to say that you would not have hesitated at
that if needs must. Once you had the stone you would have forced those
concessions from the Shan."
"And exposed the forged ones that you deposited with Benstein,"
Frobisher said sweetly.
Lefroy winced, and the glass chattered against his teeth. He had not
expected that stroke, and his dark face indicated the fact for a brief
moment.
"That is certainly one to you," he said. "Only that is not the point
for the present. The point is, that your plot has failed, that the
woman who came here to-day wearing the Blue Stone out of pure vanity and
with no kind of _arriere pensee_ whatever, has been warned of her
danger, which she has promptly removed. She knows pretty well
everything--the way she received us showed that. She is an exceedingly
clever woman, and has a shrewd idea how to take care of herself. Has she
got the stone still?"
Frobisher nodded gravely. Lefroy's point was worthy of consideration.
"You mean, has she passed it on to somebody else?" he said. "She might
have done that, but I don't fancy so, and I'll tell you why. She has
seen enough of the world to teach her not to trust anybody. Naturally
enough, she does not want her husband to be ruined, as would be the case
unless the stone was restored to Benstein's safe keeping without delay,
and so she would trust to her own shrewdness to get away without
robbery. On the whole, she has not parted with the stone."
A little reflection assured Lefroy of the soundness of this reasoning.
The thing resolved itself into a game of hide-and-seek with a fortune at
the end of it with any luck. Up to a certain point these men were
compelled to act together, but the alliance might end at any time.
"I can't very well abduct Mrs. Benstein till she parts with the gem," he
said.
"No, we can't do it, but we might find somebody who could," Frobisher
smiled. "There's the Shan's minister and treacherous servant, Hamid
Khan, for instance. He has scant respect for the laws of this or any
other country, and he knows quite well that his master has parted with
the stone. If we could put our hands upon the amiable Hamid at this
moment----"
"Nothing is easier. Hamid is watching in Piccadilly at this very
moment."
"So you have got a little scheme afoot, too," Frobisher laughed. "Upon
my word I need all my wits to enable me to get the better of you, Count.
How long has this been going on?"
"Ever since the stone left the Shan's possession. Ever since then he has
been dogged and watched. Let me go and call Hamid in to our discussion.
He knows what has happened, for I scribbled a few lines on a sheet of
paper just now when I left your wife, and handed it to one of the
smaller spies who are loafing outside. The night is hot, and our
absence will not be noticed. Now slip on our coats and assume to be
going to smoke a cigar in the garden. From thence we reach Piccadilly
by the back way, and surprise Hamid in his dreary vigil. Then he comes
back with us here. What do you say?"
Frobisher nodded gleefully; it was an intrigue after his own heart.
They passed into the cool air of the garden, and from thence into the
narrow lane at the back of the house. It was very late now, and
Piccadilly was growing quiet, so that the few lounging figures there
were easily seen. A slender, brown-faced man in a dust coat and evening
dress came along smoking a cigarette. He did not appear to be in the
least interested in anything only for his restless eyes.
"I want you," Lefroy said. "There's work to be done, Hamid."
"Indeed, I am glad to hear that," said the other in a remarkably English
tone of voice. "I'm getting sick to death of this eternal loafing. But
Sir Clement Frobisher and Count Lefroy together! My dear Count, what are
you doing in that galley?"
"Any galley is good enough when your own has been temporarily wrecked,"
Lefroy growled. "But ask no questions for the present and come with us."
They went back again presently in the smoking-room without having
attracted the least attention, or so at least Sir Clement Frobisher
flattered himself. It would never do for the Shan to know of Hamid
Khan's presence in the house. But there were other watchful eyes
besides those of the Shan of Koordstan. Mrs. Benstein had seen the two
men go into the garden, and she had seen three return. She was not
quite quick enough to get sight of the third, but she had a pretty
shrewd idea who he was. She waited till she could have a word with
Angela.
"I want you to do something for me, at once," she said. "Sir Clement
Frobisher and Count Lefroy are in the private smoking-room with a third
person. I want you to open the door and rush in with Sir Clement's name
upon your lips as if you are in a hurry for something. Then you can
stammer an apology and close the door behind you. The great thing is to
get a quick mental photograph of the third person."
Angela nodded, she wasted no time in idle questions. In the most
natural fashion she burst open the door and fluttered into the
smoking-room, calling upon Frobisher as she did so. Then she stammered
an apology and gently closed the door again. The third person had been
seated directly opposite to her so that she had a perfect view of his
face.
"I see you were perfectly successful," Mrs. Benstein said.
"Oh, absolutely," Angela replied. "It is a slender man with a deep
mahogany face and curly hair, quite a handsome Asiatic, in fact; but
what struck me more were his eyes, which are a clear light blue. Fancy,
blue eyes in a face like that!"
"Capital," Mrs. Benstein murmured. "It is exactly as I expected. No, I
am not going to say any more for the present, because I don't want to
spoil your enjoyment. Now go off and flirt with that handsome young
fraud, called Aben Abdullah, when you have the chance. Only don't go
where I shall have to hunt for you in case of dire necessity."
*CHAPTER XIX.*
*WHAT DID SHE MEAN?*
Harold was on the look out for Angela, so that she had not much trouble
in finding him. His stolid Asiatic indifference was admirably feigned,
and showed nothing of the anxiety within. There was just an
interrogative gleam in his eyes for the moment.
"Isn't there somewhere where we can be really quiet for a few minutes?"
he said. "I have successfully disposed of my royal rascal for the time,
and I want badly to speak to you. Unless I am greatly mistaken, you can
give me a good deal of information, Angela."
Angela's smile indicated that she could. There was a small passage
behind some heavy curtains leading to a suite of rarely-used rooms, and
Angela led the way there. She put the light up for a few moments and
disclosed a cosy corner lounge, then she snapped off the switch again.
"I've pulled the curtain back so that it is possible to see without
being seen," she explained. "We must not stay long, Harold--I am sure
that Mrs. Benstein will want me before long."
Harold slipped his arm round the girl's waist, and kissed her. Stolen
moments like this were very sweet. There was just an interval of
blissful silence.
"Now tell me what you know," Harold asked presently, "about the Blue
Stone."
"I know nothing about the Blue Stone," Angela explained. "Mrs. Benstein
has done something with it. All the mischief arose from the fact that
she had no idea of the traditional value of the gem. She had not asked
her husband about it. As a matter of fact a cunning idea of Sir
Clement's----"
"I know all about that," Harold interrupted. "It was very cunning, and
came near success, only I nicked in, and you and I spoilt it between us.
Lefroy spotted the stone first and tried to keep the knowledge from
Frobisher, which was practically impossible. Then luck conspired to
force those fellows to make an offensive and defensive alliance. But
where is the stone?"
"My dear boy, I haven't the remotest idea. All I know is that it has
disappeared from Mrs. Benstein's forehead, and that she seems to be
enjoying the comedy."
Harold listened uneasily. He knew perfectly well that Frobisher and
Lefroy would not stick at murder even to regain possession of the Blue
Stone. If the sacred gem was still in Mrs. Benstein's possession she
would never be allowed to reach home with the thing intact.
"I suppose we must wait on events," he said after a pause. "For the
present the Shan is not likely to interfere. I have placed him safely
at a bridge-table, and there he will sit so long as there is a game,
though his kingdom was toppling about his ears. Still, it keeps him
sober, and that is the main thing. I suppose Mrs. Benstein did not tell
you what she proposed to do?"
"I didn't ask her, Harold. She is so marvellously cool and clever that
I felt quite easy in my mind. But there is another foe to fight. I
quite forgot to tell you about him."
"Did Mrs. Benstein tell you, or did you find it out yourself?"
"No. It was Mrs. Benstein. She said somebody was closeted in the
private smoking-room with Sir Clement and Count Lefroy. I was to
pretend that I didn't know, and blunder into the room, taking care to
get a good sight of the stranger before apologising. I did it very
well."
Harold squeezed Angela's waist affectionately. She laid a loving hand on
his.
"Perhaps you know the man," she went on. "He looks like a true Asiatic,
but at the same time he has blue eyes. It struck me as such a singular
thing."
"I know him perfectly well," Harold muttered. "This thing goes deeper
than I expected. The man who is still plotting with these two rascals
is Hamid Khan, who calls himself one of the Shan's ministers. He is
perhaps the most dangerous foe my pseudo-master has. If he can only
prove that the Blue Stone had been out of the Shan's possession there
will be a change of dynasty in Koordstan. This is the worst piece of
news I have heard to-night."
"I don't quite see why you should be so deeply interested," Angela said
softly.
"My darling, there is a good deal of self at the bottom of it," Harold
admitted candidly. "I shouldn't take all this trouble and run all this
risk for a worthless creature like the Shan, unless I could see some
benefit in it. I want to pin him down over those concessions, which
will make my fortune. They will give me control over one of the richest
tracts of land in Koordstan. In a year or two I shall be wealthy."
"Just as if it mattered," Angela whispered, rubbing her cheek against
Harold's, "just as if it mattered, when I shall have so much. But don't
forget that you have Mr. Benstein to deal with. You can't rob him of the
stone which he has come by honestly in the way of business."
"Oh, I know that. And we must have the stone by ten o'clock to-morrow.
But I have found a way out of that difficulty. Between ourselves, Lord
Rashburn showed me the way. We have a rich Englishman who will advance
the money and benefit politically and secretly at the same time. He runs
no risks of losing his capital either, because he is certain to get it
back from the Shan in time. When Mrs. Benstein has gone home we shall
follow and settle the business out of hand. I wish she would go now."
"I should trust her," Angela said thoughtfully. "She will go in her own
time and her own way; she will baffle those scoundrels yet, I am certain
of it. My dear boy, do be careful. If you are found out----"
Angela paused significantly. There was a risk of the mine being fired
at any moment. There was no more dangerous or cunning foe in Europe
than Sir Clement Frobisher, all the more dangerous in that he had Count
Lefroy for an ally. And the time before the Shan was getting perilously
short.
"Wait upon events a little longer," Angela urged as she arose. "We must
go back again, it is not wise to stay here any longer. Mrs. Benstein may
want me."
Harold made no demur, pleasant as it was to linger by Angela's side.
She held his face between her hands and kissed him, then he walked
towards the curtain. The band was playing some passionate love waltz;
there were murmurs of conversation and light laughter. It seemed almost
impossible to identify intrigue and danger with so fair a scene.
The two wandered on together past the dancers and the couples sitting
out, talking quietly together as if they had been no more than casual
acquaintances. Harold was a dull-dogged Asiatic again, but he kept his
eyes about him. The crowd grew less; it was more quiet in the region of
the card-rooms. Several parties were deep in bridge here, the Shan of
Koordstan amongst the number. There was a pile of gold before him; from
the satisfied glitter in his eyes he was winning heavily. Harold gave a
sigh of relief. He was free still to follow his own plans without the
added responsibility of keeping the Shan away from the champagne. He
had a passion for wine, but a deeper passion for play, and so long as
the cards were on the green baize, he would think of nothing else.
"His whole soul seems to be wrapped up in it," Angela whispered.
"Of course it is," Harold said contemptuously. "If I went to him now and
told him that he had only to step across the room to recover his sacred
gem he would ask me to come back in an hour. Doubtless he has quite
forgotten why he came here. Look, here comes Frobisher."
Frobisher came into the room rubbing his hands together and smiling
softly. A glance at him told Harold that he had not only made his
plans, but was perfectly satisfied with them. Somebody hailed Frobisher
with a suggestion that he should come in and make up a table, but he
excused himself. He strolled off down the corridor, and as he did so
Angela caught sight of Mrs. Benstein's flashing gems in the distance.
"I'll follow her," she whispered. "She's gone towards the big
conservatory."
But Frobisher was on the same errand. He caught Mrs. Benstein up and
made some remark. She smiled back at him as if there was nothing hidden
under the surface.
"Oh, yes, the orchids," she said. "I have been promising myself a treat
with your orchids. I will conveniently forget that I am engaged for the
next dance. I want to see your Cardinal Moth in full bloom."
"I want to know how you are so _au fait_ with the Moth," Frobisher
grinned.
"That is my secret, sir," Isa Benstein laughed. "There is Eastern blood
in my veins. But I know all about it. You will certainly be murdered
if you keep that orchid long enough."
"That, to my mind, is just the added charm," Frobisher said coolly
enough. "I love the flower passionately. But the Cardinal Moth is
unique, it has such a cruel, bloody history. Still I am not going to
part with it for all the priests of Ghan."
Isa Benstein was forced to admit that there was something in Frobisher's
fascination as she looked up at the graceful ropes of blossoms. There
had been one of the periodical bursts of steam which had just cleared
away, so that the cloud of delicate white-pink bloom with its fluttering
red satellites overshone in refulgent perfection.
"It is indeed the queen of flowers," a deep voice came from behind.
Mrs. Benstein looked round into the dark, inscrutable face of Lefroy.
She and her host and the Count were alone in the big conservatory. The
door was open, but they were too far away for any one to hear or to hear
any one else. That she had been lured there Isa Benstein knew without
anybody to tell her. She had the Blue Stone of Ghan in her possession,
both these men knew it, and they were both desirous of gaining
possession, but they were both utterly unscrupulous in their methods.
If it came to a personal struggle they were equal to that. They would
both declare afterwards that the story of violence was a pure
fabrication, and that it had existed in a hysterical woman's
imagination. And for the sake of her husband Mrs. Benstein would say
nothing. How could she stand up and tell the world that she had been
wearing the Blue Stone at Lady Frobisher's dance, when the thing had
been pledged to cover a money advance?
These thoughts flashed through the woman's nimble brain like lightning.
But the smile never left her face; she did not show for a moment that
she knew or felt anything. She was quite ready.
"They are lovely," she said. "I am filled with envy, though I have some
perfect orchids of my own. Miss Lyne, won't you come and worship at the
shrine of Flora?"
Isa Benstein raised her voice in the hope that Angela might be near. It
was a sort of danger signal and might prove efficacious. The next
moment Angela walked in. She understood perfectly, but she made no
sign. Just for a moment Frobisher's eyes flashed like electric points.
"I don't care for orchids," Angela said. "There is something uncanny
about them."
"Not all," said Mrs. Benstein, as she bent and broke off a spray of deep
blue blossom. Frobisher winced as if somebody had struck him a painful
blow. "Look at these blooms; they are sweet and tender enough. Count
Lefroy, I want you to arrange this spray in Miss Lyne's hair. You can
reach better than I can, and I can trust your taste. Place this flat
under the coil at the side."
Angela made no demur, though she would far rather have done it herself.
Lefroy did his work gracefully enough and stepped back to admire the
effect, as did Isa Benstein. Frobisher, still snarling for the loss of
his beloved flowers, looked on with his teeth bared in an uneasy grin.
"Perfect!" Mrs. Benstein cried, as if she had only one thought in her
mind. "All this evening I have been racking my brains to know what
little final touch was lacking. I beg of you as a personal favour not
to remove those flowers till you go to bed. Now will you promise me?"
Angela gave the promise lightly enough. Lefroy drew Frobisher a little
on one side.
"We are wasting valuable time," he growled. "Get rid of that girl."
"One moment. Her presence here is quite an accident. Our fair friend
has no suspicion. I shall find a good pretext to get rid of Angela in a
moment. Yes, it is a fine flower and quite unique."
The last few words were spoken aloud. But if Lefroy had seized his
chance for a word with Frobisher, Isa Benstein had not lost her
opportunity. "I am going to make a remark," she said, "though I only
dare to give you a hint. Sir Clement has ears like a hare. When I speak
you are to give a laugh as if I had made a brilliant joke. You are
quite sure neither of these men are really listening to us?"
"I think you can venture to go on," Angela murmured. "I am quite ready
to laugh."
She broke out into a rippling, amused smile as Mrs. Benstein slightly
bent her head and said:
"Be sure that you take down and brush out your hair to-night!"
*CHAPTER XX.*
*CHECK TO FROBISHER.*
The whole thing struck Angela as strangely unreal. It hardly seemed
possible that this swiftly-moving drama could be played amongst the
settings of her daily life in this fashion. There was the dreamy music
of the band--the Scarlet Bavarian Band of so many big social
functions--the familiar fuss and flutter of drapery, the sound of
well-known voices. Mrs. Benstein was smiling in the most natural way,
the two men appeared to be quite at their ease. And yet here was a
moving drama that any one moment might flare into tragedy. Still,
Angela played the game mechanically.
A light laugh rippled from her lips so naturally that she was quite
surprised. She had not the slightest idea what Isa Benstein meant by
the strange caution, but she had every intention of carrying it out to
the letter. Frobisher sauntered back to his beautiful guest's side.
Angela lingered, waiting for the next move. She saw Mrs. Benstein's
eyes glance towards the door with a significant look. As she made some
excuse for leaving the others together she saw a flickering smile of
approval.
"May we smoke?" Frobisher asked, as he closed the door behind Angela.
"We are all enthusiasts, and we don't want any dilettantes here."
"You may do just as you please," Mrs. Benstein said. "Probably you
would follow that course in any case. You are a bold man to keep the
Cardinal Moth here."
"What do you know about it?" Frobisher asked.
There was a dry chuckle in his voice as he put the question. Mrs.
Benstein looked up at the cloud of glorious blossoms over her head.