“Cetinje, eh? This looks as if he may have gone to Montenegro.”
“And that fact does not disturb you, after his saying that he was bound
for Central Asia to claim a fortune?”
“Not in the least, dear lady.”
Edith, abashed, was silent. She could only reflect to herself what a
power the man would be if he could trust God as he trusted the children
of Satan! But he suddenly seemed boyish as he sat there smiling, and her
love went out to him with a touch of maternal pity.
“I have always thought of you as so critical, so inclined to discount
everybody and everything. You have talked of men and women as if they
were helpless animals. I can’t exactly call it cynicism—but I guess I
will, because I’ve ruled out every other word. And now you are out of
character!”
“Dr. Bridgman’s diagnosis,” laughed Trench, “is differential and
accurate. Poor Saadi is not in the same class with you. He sized me up as
no cynic, and therefore as marriageable. It is sad to see a personal bias
in so young a physician. But I suppose you’re dying to know what these
mystic and melodramatic letters mean. Excuse me if I seem graceless—but
they remind me of a certain brand of underwear.”
“I suppose I shall have to excuse it, but you can’t blame me for
desperate curiosity when my Elsie’s whole life may hang upon those
letters. I did venture to think that some of your students could see some
light in them.”
Trench took up the telephone, and glanced at his watch.—“This is Dr.
Trench.—I want to speak to Mr. Ameen. You will find him in 36, preparing
some sections. I will hold the wire.—Is that you, Ameen?—I want to ask
you an odd question. Do the letters bsvd suggest anything to you in
Persian or Arabic? Yes, _bsvd_. Think about it a minute, and call me up.
Consider names of cities, common phrases, Moslem proverbs—anything that
enters your mind.”
“I’m afraid,” said Trench, as he hung up, “that Ameen can’t help us.”
“Pardon my saying so, doctor, but you don’t give him all the data. He
doesn’t know that these words are addressed to Mr. Sereef.”
“No, but that’s just what I don’t want him to know. Ameen is prejudiced
in Saadi’s favour.”
“Perhaps you are right. It now occurs to me that a message from the
Balkans might be couched in some Balkan language.”
“Yes, Miss Bridgman. And there is one friend of mine who might be of
assistance if he were here. He is Dr. Yukitch, a Southern Slav whom I
knew at Vienna. But I have no idea where he is. Ah—there is Ameen.”
As he took up the receiver and listened, Trench began to smile and to
make notes on the pad of paper. He wrote for several minutes, laughed,
told Ameen that he was a wonder, and hung up.
“Ameen gives us a wide choice, Miss Bridgman. For Persian he suggests
three sentences, all beginning with the required letters. They are _Beya
shuma va damad_—You come, and son-in-law; _Boro shuma va damad_—You go,
and son-in-law; _Barayi shuma vajibest daleel_—You must have a guide. For
Arabic he gives us three others, and in one case the inner meaning which
so many Arabic words bear. They are: _Bismillah salimho va dalilho_—In
God’s name greet him and show him the way; _Balad shams va dobab_—Land of
sun and mist—that is to say, Land of trouble and strong government; and
finally, _Baad Saadi vadie Doctor_—After Saadi kill the doctor.”
Troubled though she was, Edith burst into laughter. “I guess that he
thinks I am here trying to kill you both. Well, I won’t. I give up
trying to find out the meaning of bsvd.”
Trench handed the yellow paper back. “I suppose I feel about Saadi as you
feel about God. I’ve got to trust him, because I can’t check him up.”
Edith took the paper, hesitated, and placed it again in the doctor’s
hand. “Send it to Dr. Jaffer,” she said.
Trench slowly folded the paper. “You are quite serious?”
“Quite serious. It was you who sent me to Ischl’s. Elsie is our ward.”
Trench opened a drawer and glanced at his check book. “It will
inconvenience me a little.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “Dr. Trench, you must let me pay Dr. Jaffer’s
expenses.”
“That would take too much explaining. I am sorry to be short, however.
You see, I lent Saadi a thousand.”
Edith opened her eyes very wide. This man, this ideal of cautious
commonsense, was a lunatic. But she held her peace.
“Joint guardians, eh,” continued Trench. “I’m not sure that we are the
only ones.” He turned to the telephone book, found a number, and asked
for it. “Is this you, Mr. Ischl? This is Dr. Trench. Is your car there?
Could you spare the time to run round to my office?”
While they were waiting, Trench took from a drawer an album of pictures
of Encampment, and together they seemed to tread again the cedar woods.
“Not Encampment,” she said, “but Enchantment.”
Presently in came Ischl, a little uncertain in his flat-footed tread, and
thinner than of yore. He had a reeking cigar in his fingers, but, seeing
a lady present, made an effort to quench it and hide it.
“Miss Bridgman, this is Mr. Ischl.”
“I’ve heard of you, Mr. Ischl. Your stock went up with your employés last
summer.”
Ischl strove to hide his embarrassed pleasure. “’Twan’t my doing. This
man here is responsible. You don’t know all my family history, and I
ain’t here to tell it. But I had a damned hard time to make Dr. Trench do
something for me. And now, doc, what can Ischl do for you?”
“Mr. Ischl, you’ve a little girl named Elsie.”
“Yes, thank God, I have.”
“Well, it was Miss Bridgman who interceded for Elsie. Do you remember
what you said to me about some other girls?”
“Well, I guess I said a good many things. It was a warm morning. But I
remember I says, doc, I says, there’s others named Elsie.”
“That’s it. And do you remember Elsie—what was her last name, Miss
Bridgman?”
“Shaviro.”
“Sure, doc. Best forewoman I ever had. Got a head on her like a man. She
ain’t been with me in close to five months.”
“She’s in trouble, Ischl.”
“Damned sorry to hear it. Some man do her dirt?”
“Miss Bridgman fears so. The man has gone to Europe, and we want to find
him and make him support her—if it’s necessary to make him.”
“I’ll sit in with you on that deal. Is it money you want?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve got my check book right here. I stuck it in my pocket when I heard
it was you. God damn it—excuse me, lady, but I got to swear—I hoped the
time would come when you’d need that thousand.”
“Too much, Ischl. Make it five hundred. I don’t myself feel sure that I
ever earned a dollar in my life, but I’ll take that much and thank you.”
“You’ll take a thousand. I’m it, this time, and I ain’t lost no money
this winter. There! There you are, and I hope you’ll find your quitter.
Any time you need a little more for them as needs it, I guess maybe I
could cough up if I tried hard. And there’s one thing more I want to say.
This lady here done a fine thing when she let my girl come first. I won’t
never forget it, Miss Bridgman.”
He laid the check on the desk, shook hands, and was gone.
Edith opened her handbag again, but this time it was for her
handkerchief. “You wonderful man,” she said, wiping her eyes.
Trench was the least bit tremulous himself as he replied. “Mr. Ischl very
properly thinks you the wonderful one. The deeds of Drummond and Ischl
read like a fairy story. But it is certain enough that some ideals do get
realised.”
“How soon will you telegraph to Dr. Jaffer?”
“In ten minutes.”
Trench drew up a pad of paper, and wrote.
Chicago, April 22, 1914.
Rasul Rahim Jaffer, Peshawar, India.
Please proceed Tashkent Grand Hotel inform Saadi child expected
October should cable Elsie intention of returning. Am cabling
expenses.