A MURDEROUS INTENT.
“Well, dear?” cried Mrs Hagopidan, rushing to Cecil’s side, as
Charlie precipitated himself down the stairs, hurried across the
courtyard, and arrived at the gate just in time to take his place
behind Sir Dugald as the great doors were thrown open for Azim Bey’s
entrance, “is it all settled? You are glad now that I brought you here
on false pretences? Do tell me, have you enjoyed the hour or so which
you have spent in admiring the view?”
“Nonsense, Myrta; we haven’t been there so long as that,” said Cecil,
half-vexed, but for all answer Mrs Hagopidan drew out a tiny gold
watch and exhibited its face.
“It is undeniably an hour and a quarter since we left the
drawing-room,” she said, when Cecil, with an embarrassed laugh, had
recognised the truth of her statement. “Now do tell me, dear, have you
been finding out your fortune from the stars? I can tell you
something. Your fate is connected with that of a dark man, and your
happiness is threatened by a dark child, do you see? There’s a
separation somewhere, I am convinced, but of course a happy ending.
Don’t you think I tell fortunes beautifully?”
“Myrta,” said Cecil, solemnly, “don’t be silly. You know you can’t
find out things from the stars.”
“How do you know? At least you will allow that I have had plenty of
time this evening for studying them, haven’t I?”
In the meantime Azim Bey had been received at the great gate of the
Residency, and conducted with all due solemnity to a chair placed for
him in the large drawing-room. When this had been accomplished, a
sense of constraint seemed to fall upon the party assembled, together
with a feeling of doubt as to what was to be done next. Music and
conversation had both been interrupted by the unexpected arrival, and
the intruder himself seemed as much at a loss as any one. He
scrutinised attentively the faces of those present, bestowed a
searching gaze on Charlie, and finally looked disappointed and a
little inclined to yawn. It was not until Lady Haigh ventured on a
civil inquiry as to the reason of this flattering and unlooked-for
visit that he brightened up.
“I want mademoiselle,” he answered, becoming animated at once. “Where
is she? I came to fetch her. What have you done with her?” and he
looked at Charlie again, in a puzzled and suspicious way.
Happily it was just at this moment that Cecil and Mrs Hagopidan
returned to the room, the latter with her arm linked in Cecil’s, and
at the sight, Azim Bey’s face beamed. He rose from his seat and
walked, for his innate dignity forbade his running, to meet them.
“Oh, mademoiselle,” he cried, “I am so lonely! There have never been
two such long days since Baghdad was built. I am desolate without you.
I have teased Ayesha, I have had two of the servants beaten, I have
been very bad. Now come back.”
“Not yet, Bey,” said Cecil, somewhat vexed, and yet touched by the
eagerness of the little fellow’s tone; “I can’t break up Lady Haigh’s
party in the middle of the evening. But you would like to stay,
wouldn’t you, and see how we keep Christmas in England? You have often
asked me about it, you know.”
“And if Lady Haigh doesn’t mind, we will play some of the old
Christmas games,” put in Charlie, who was very much vexed, and not at
all touched, but wanted to make the best of the matter.
“_You_ may play at Christmas games, M. le docteur, if you like,”
responded Azim Bey, fixing a stony gaze on Charlie, “but mademoiselle
shall sit by me and explain them all. She shall not play your
forfeits, your kissing under the mistletoe, with you.”
“I never suggested that she should--in public, at any rate,” returned
Charlie, almost overcome by the idea of his kissing Cecil under the
mistletoe for Azim Bey’s edification. “I suppose you think that such a
proceeding would need a good deal of explanation, Bey?”
“Madame,” said Azim Bey to Lady Haigh, turning in disgust from
Charlie’s flippancy, “may I ask that you will have the kindness to let
a chair be brought for mademoiselle, that she may sit beside me?”
“Bey! Lady Haigh is standing. I cannot sit down until she does,” said
Cecil, and her pupil groaned, and requested that a chair might be
placed for Lady Haigh on the other side of him. Then, with Charlie as
master of the revels, the games began. Urged by an agonised whisper
from their leader, “For goodness’ sake, you fellows, let us send this
child home in a good temper,” the other young men threw themselves
nobly into the fray, and did their best to induct the bewildered Greek
and Armenian guests into the mysteries of blindman’s-buff and general
post. Meanwhile, Azim Bey sat very upright on his chair, demanding
from Cecil copious explanations of all that he witnessed, and
criticising the players liberally. Mrs Hagopidan he was at first
inclined to admire, but when he found that she was Cecil’s friend he
became jealous, and refused to have anything to say to her, at which
the lively little lady laughed as an excellent joke. Except for this,
however, Azim Bey seemed to enjoy the evening, if no one else did, for
it accorded exactly with his tastes and his ideas of pleasure to sit
still and look on while others supplied amusement for him. At length
the games came to a close, and Lady Haigh carried off Cecil to don her
Palace dress once more. When she came out of her room, with the great
white sheet over her arm, ready to put on, Charlie was on the verandah
waiting for her, and Lady Haigh discreetly returned into the room for
something she had forgotten.
“I couldn’t let you go without one more word,” he said. “You must let
me give you this, dear.”
It was a curiously wrought ring, set with pearls and rubies in a
quaint design, which produced the effect of two serpents twining round
one another, and Charlie explained that he had bought it in Basra two
years before. He did not mention that he had intended to offer it to
her then, had not Lady Haigh’s cruel fiat intervened, but Cecil
understood what he did not say, and let him put it on her finger. But
after a moment she started and took it off.
“I mustn’t wear it yet, Charlie. You know that Azim Bey hasn’t heard
anything about our engagement, and I shall have to break it to him
carefully. I shouldn’t like him to find it out for himself, for it
would hurt his feelings so dreadfully to think I hadn’t told him, and
he would notice the ring at once and guess what it meant. I must
choose a favourable time for telling him, and try to bring him round
to take it pleasantly. I should be afraid he will be rather hard to
persuade; he is so fond of me, you know.”
“So am I,” said Charlie, “and I don’t see what that wretched child has
to do with it. If only I could have got back yesterday, and saved you
from three more years of slavery!”
“Don’t be too sure you could have done it,” said Cecil. “A duty is a
duty, you know, and I have a duty to Azim Bey.”
“And so you have to me. But I’m not going to be selfish, Cecil. You
have made me happier to-night than I could ever have hoped or deserved
to be, and if I couldn’t wait ten years for you, if it was necessary,
I should be a fool and a brute. Besides, after going through the last
two years I know how to be thankful for what I have got. You don’t
know how bad I felt when any of the other fellows spoke to you.”
“Did you?” said Cecil. “Do you know, I should have thought you had
taken good care that they shouldn’t have the chance.”
“What! have I been such a dog in the manger as all that?” cried
Charlie, aghast. “Did I worry you, Cecil? But still you let me do it.”
“You see, I took an interest in you,” said Cecil, calmly. “Lady Haigh
commended you to my care in a sort of way.”
“Lady Haigh is reluctantly compelled to ask you what time of night you
imagine it to be, good people,” said a voice from within the room, and
the two on the verandah started guiltily.
“She’s just ready, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, taking the sheet from
Cecil’s arm, and offering to help her put it on. But he was not an
expert lady’s-maid, and the process took a considerable time--still,
even if his face did approach hers more nearly than was absolutely
necessary, they were standing in deep shadow, and there was nobody to
see.
And Cecil was duly mounted on her donkey, and escorted to the gate by
Sir Dugald, and rode back to the Palace with Azim Bey at her side,
feeling that she did not dare to look at him lest her eyes should tell
their own happy story. For once she felt thankful for the protection
of the veil, and drew it closely over her flushed face, wondering that
the boy’s glances did not penetrate even this defence.
At the Residency, meanwhile, Charlie was pouring out his tale to Lady
Haigh, assuring her incoherently that he was at once the happiest and
the least deserving man in the whole world, his cousin alternately
corroborating and contradicting him. When she had heard all he had to
tell, Lady Haigh went away to the office where Sir Dugald was sitting
alone, immersed once more in his daily work after the frivolity of the
evening, and reading a despatch which had just arrived by special
courier. He looked up with puckered brow as his wife came softly in.
“I am overwhelmed with business, Elma,” he said, as a gentle hint to
her to be brief.
“I know, dear; I won’t keep you,” she replied, ruthlessly demolishing
the barricade of reports and despatch-boxes with which he had
fortified himself, and settling herself where she could see his face,
“though I’m sure you had better leave it now and get a good night’s
rest. You would be much fresher in the morning. But that wasn’t what I
came to tell you. Cecil and Charlie are engaged.”
“Pair of fools!” said Sir Dugald, with his eyes on the despatch.
“Dugald!” cried Lady Haigh, with deep reproach in her tones. “I think
they are made for one another.”
“I think they are made to create trouble for other people,” said Sir
Dugald. “Now, Elma, I have always regarded you as the most sensible
woman of my acquaintance. Look at the matter in a sensible light, and
don’t talk cant. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t think Miss
Anstruther, with her position and capabilities, a fool for throwing
herself away on a man like the doctor?”
“He is a dear good fellow,” said Lady Haigh, warmly.
“No doubt, but that’s all you can say for him. And look at him. He has
just settled down well here, and then he goes and unsettles himself by
this engagement, which is pretty sure to get him into trouble at the
Palace. Of course it need not, but with his genius for getting into
hot water you may be sure it will.”
“But would you have had them wait three years more?” asked Lady Haigh.
“Certainly not. It is preposterous that he should think of her at all.
I should have some respect for Miss Anstruther’s judgment if she had
chosen Rossiter. He is a fine fellow, if you like, with some chances
of success, and she could have had him for the trouble of holding up a
finger.”
“But would you have had her hold up a finger to Captain Rossiter when
she was in love with Charlie?” inquired Lady Haigh.
“My dear Elma, I don’t think you quite see my point,” said Sir Dugald,
with exceeding mildness. “I consider that it shows a lack of good
sense in Miss Anstruther to have fallen in love, as you phrase it,
with your cousin at all. To see a girl throwing away her chances is a
thing I detest. And now I really must prepare the draft of the answer
to this despatch.” This time Lady Haigh accepted her dismissal, and
retired, a little saddened, but by no means convinced.
All unconscious of the unpalatable criticism her engagement had
excited, Cecil rose the next morning prepared to take the first
favourable opportunity of breaking the news to her pupil; but she was
somewhat startled when he himself, in the midst of his lessons, paved
the way for the disclosure.
“Mademoiselle,” he said, suddenly, looking up from the essay he was
writing on the character of Peter the Great, “what makes you so
happy?”
“Am I any happier than usual, Bey?” asked Cecil, with a start and a
blush. Her pupil studied her face curiously and deliberately.
“Yes, mademoiselle, I am sure of it. When we were out in the garden an
hour ago, you walked as though you wished to dance, and you were all
the time singing tunes in a whisper, and just now you sat like this,
and looked at the wall and smiled,” and Azim Bey supported his chin
upon one hand, and pursed up his solemn little face into a ludicrous
imitation of Cecil’s far-away gaze and the smile that had accompanied
it.
“Dear me, Bey, how closely you watch me!” said Cecil, uncomfortably,
feeling that she was not carrying out her determination of the night
before at all in the proper way. “I am afraid you have not been
working very hard. How far have you got with Peter?”
“I have finished all but his influence upon the Greek Church,
mademoiselle. You looked so happy that I felt I must stop to ask you
about it. But I will finish Peter, and then we can have some more
talk.”
“Don’t you think I ought to be happy to be back here after being away
for two whole days?” asked Cecil, lightly, trying to turn aside the
subject with a laugh; but Azim Bey bent upon her a severe gaze from
under his black brows, and answered solemnly--
“No, mademoiselle; for I watched your face when you went away, and it
was not sad. I am convinced that your happiness has nothing to do with
me. Now I will finish my essay.”
And having succeeded in making his governess uncomfortable, he applied
himself once more to his writing, feeling, no doubt, a certain
satisfaction in seeing that she was beginning to look worried and
anxious instead of happy. She knew him well in these impracticable
moods, when he would exhibit an impish power of detecting the things
which he was not meant to see, and delighted in sweeping away
conventional disguises, and she feared that he suspected what had
taken place, and meant to make her task of telling him about it as
difficult as he could. He finished his essay in due time, fastened the
pages neatly together, and presented the roll to her with a polite
bow, then tidied and closed his desk, all in grim silence, while Cecil
waited expectantly for what he would say next. For the moment he
seemed to have forgotten the matter, however, for he called to the
servants to spread a carpet for him beside the brazier, and to bring
some cushions for mademoiselle, and also to replenish the glowing
charcoal, for it was a cold day for Baghdad. When his orders had been
carried out, he turned to Cecil, and invited her to come down from her
desk, and to sit by the brazier a little and warm herself. Pupil and
governess generally took a short rest of this kind in the middle of
the morning, and Cecil was wont to regard it as a very pleasant time,
when bits from the latest magazines and papers which had reached her
might be read and discussed, and Azim Bey’s critical faculty guided in
the right direction.
“Captain Rossiter lent me a new magazine yesterday, which had just
been sent him from home,” she said, willing to delay her important
communication until her pupil was in a more accommodating mood, “and
I think you would like to see it, Bey. I will send Um Yusuf for it, if
you like.”
“Thank you, mademoiselle, but I think I had rather talk to-day instead
of reading,” replied Azim Bey; and as Cecil took her seat upon the
cushions, he sat down upon his carpet on the other side of the brazier
and looked at her. He had proposed to talk, but the conversation did
not seem to be forthcoming; he only sat still, with his great black
eyes fixed upon his governess. Cecil grew nervous, and perceived that
she had not succeeded in diverting his mind from the former subject
after all. It was foolish to feel perturbed merely on account of this,
however, and she resolved to seize the opportunity and say what she
had intended.
“You asked me just now why I seemed so happy, Bey, and I will tell
you. I am very happy, though I did not know I was showing it so
plainly. You have read in books about people’s being engaged?”
“Yes, mademoiselle,” responded her pupil.
“Well, how would you like it if I told you that I was engaged?”
“I should be deeply interested, mademoiselle,” he replied, with cold
politeness. Cecil sighed. He was evidently determined not to be
sympathetic. She must try and begin on another tack.
“You like me to be happy, don’t you, Bey? Supposing that there was a
very good, nice man whom I liked very much, and who--well, who thought
he liked me very much, and that he wanted me to be engaged to him, and
there was no reason why we should not be engaged, what then?”
“And as to yourself, mademoiselle?”
“Oh, supposing of course that I was willing,” said Cecil, hastily; “I
said that. It wouldn’t make any difference to you, you know. I should
stay with you for the three years more, exactly as I promised, and
only go when you didn’t want me any longer. Well, Bey, supposing that
all this were to happen, there would be no reason why you should mind,
would there? I don’t see how it would affect you at all.”
“I should have him killed,” observed Azim Bey, calmly.
“Have whom killed?” demanded Cecil, somewhat startled.
“That man, mademoiselle,--that wicked, wretched man! I would give all
I had to get him killed.”
“Nonsense, Bey! We are not in the ‘Arabian Nights’ now.”
“No, mademoiselle, but we are in Baghdad.”
“I shouldn’t have thought you were so silly, Bey. Why should he be
killed? He would have done you no harm.”
“He would, indeed, mademoiselle. You are my own mademoiselle, and you
shall not be thinking of this--this _imaginary_ person. If he comes, I
will have him killed.”
“I thought you cared a little for me, Bey, now that we have been two
years together,” said Cecil, with deep reproach. “And yet you talk
like this of having an innocent person whom I loved killed, just
because I loved him and he loved me.”
“But that is the very reason, mademoiselle. You would marry him and go
away to your England again, and I want you to stay here in Baghdad,
and be always ready when I want to ask you things. When I am married,
I shall say to Safieh Khanum, ‘If you wish to please me, ask Mdlle.
Antaza’s advice about everything, and you are sure to be right.’ So
you see, mademoiselle, I shall always want you, and you must not go
away. Why, I heard Masûd telling you how rude I was to him yesterday,
and how I teased Ayesha and Basmeh Kalfa just because you were away.”
“But I can’t stay with you always,” said Cecil, vexed, and yet
half-laughing at the tone of pride in which he spoke, “so we must hope
you will improve before I leave you. If I never married at all, I
should go home when my five years here were over. When you are
married, Safieh Khanum will know very well how to manage things
without my advice. Don’t you see that it wouldn’t do at all for me to
be interfering in her household affairs? Besides, Bey, think how
selfish you are. You would like me to lose the very thing that is
making me so happy just now, because you would have to do without me.”
“If any one comes, and wishes to be engaged to you, mademoiselle, I
shall have him killed,” repeated Azim Bey, doggedly. Cecil lost her
temper.
“Very well, Bey; if you are going to behave so foolishly, and talk so
childishly of what you know nothing about, I am not going to tell you
anything more. You may find things out for yourself, if you like.”
And Cecil walked away to her own room, and returned with Charlie’s
ring shining on her finger, a perpetual defiance and reminder to Azim
Bey.