HOW WE SUCCEEDED IN OUR ENTERPRISE.
On arrival at Singapore we took rickshaws and drove direct from the
wharf to the Mandalay Hotel, a palatial white building of two stories,
boasting vivid green shutters on every window, and broad luxurious
verandahs on every floor. I was the first to reach it, and,
remembering my position of casual acquaintance, I booked a room for
myself, leaving Miss Sanderson and her companion to follow my example
when they should arrive.
It was then late in the afternoon, and by the time we had thoroughly
settled in night had fallen, and the preliminary dressing gong had
sounded for dinner. So far, I had seen nothing of the person of whom
we were in search, but I did not doubt that at the evening meal I
should become acquainted with his whereabouts, even if I did not
actually meet the man himself.
The dining-room at the Mandalay is at the rear of the hotel, and looks
out upon a charmingly arranged garden. Immediately upon my entering it
a waiter came forward and conducted me to my place at a table near the
window. On my left was seated a portly, red-faced gentleman, whom, I
discovered later, was an English merchant of considerable standing in
the place. The chair on my right was vacant, but before we had
dismissed the first course it was taken by a man whom my instinct told
me was none other than Mr. Ebbington himself. Why I should have come
to this conclusion I cannot explain, but that I did think so, and that
I was right in so thinking, I discovered a minute or two later, when a
question was addressed to him by an acquaintance on the other side of
the table. I continued the course without betraying my excitement, and
when my plate was removed, sat back and casually took stock of him.
From Alie's account, and some kind of preconceived notion as to what
sort of appearance such a dastardly traitor should present, I had
expected to see a small, shifty-eyed, villainous type of man, wearing
on his face some token of his guilt. But in place of that I discovered
a stout, well set-up, not unhandsome man of about forty years of age.
His complexion was somewhat florid; his eyes were of an uncertain hue,
between gray and steely blue; he had a pronounced nose, and a heavy,
almost double, chin. Indeed, had it not been for his hesitating mode
of speech, I should have been inclined to put him down for a military
man.
During the progress of the meal I found an opportunity of doing him
some small service, and on this meagre introduction we fell into a
desultory conversation, which embraced Singapore, the latest news from
England, and the prospects of a war between China and Japan. When
dinner was over I rose and followed him into the verandah, offered him
a cheroot, which he accepted, and seated myself in a lounge chair
beside him. We had not been smoking five minutes before my sweetheart
and her companion passed close to where we sat, _en route_ to their
rooms. As she came opposite to me, Alie stopped.
"Good-evening, Dr. De Normanville!" she said; "isn't this hotel
delightful?"
I rose and uttered an appropriate reply, at the same time noticing
that Ebbington was taking thorough stock of her. Then, after another
commonplace or two, she bowed and passed on her way. I resumed my
seat, and for nearly a minute we smoked in silence. Then my companion,
who had evidently been carefully thinking his speech out, said, with
that peculiarly diffident utterance which, as I have said, was
habitual to him:
"You'll excuse what I am going to say, I hope, but a friend and I were
having a little discussion before dinner. The proprietor tells me Miss
Sanderson, the American heiress, is staying in the house. I do not
wish to be impertinent, but might I ask if the lady to whom you have
just been speaking is Miss Sanderson?"
"Yes, she is Miss Sanderson," I replied. "You do not know her, then?"
"Never saw her before in my life," was his reply. "Pieces of good
fortune like that don't often occur in Singapore. If they did, few of
us would be here very long, I can assure you. But perhaps I am talking
in too familiar a strain about your friend? If so, you must forgive
me."
"Indeed no!" I answered. "Don't trouble yourself on that score. I
travelled up with them from Batavia in the French boat that arrived
this afternoon. From what little I have seen of her she seems very
pleasant, and, as you may have observed, is evidently inclined to be
friendly."
"There is no doubt about the money, I suppose?" he continued. "Since
Vesey, of Hong Kong, was so completely taken in by the Beautiful
White Devil, we have been a little sceptical on the subject of
heiresses down this way."
"On that point, I'm afraid I cannot inform you," I said laughingly.
"She seems, however, to travel in very good style, and evidently
denies herself nothing. But you spoke of the Beautiful White Devil. I
am most interested in what I have heard of that personage. Are you
well up in the subject?"
"How should I be?" he answered, as I thought, a little quickly. "Of
course I know what every other man in the East knows, but no more.
Thank goodness she has never done me the honour of abducting me as she
did the Sultan of Surabaya and those other Johnnies. But with regard
to Miss Sanderson, I wonder if I should be considered impertinent if I
asked you to give me the pleasure of an introduction."
Of course I did not tell him that it was the very thing of all others
that I desired to do, but at the same time I could hardly conceal my
exultation. I had, however, to keep my delight to myself for fear lest
he should suspect; so I relit my cigar, which had gone out, and then
said, with as much carelessness as I could assume:
"I don't know altogether whether I'm sufficiently intimate with her to
take the liberty of introducing you; but, as I said just now, she
seems a jolly sort of girl, and not inclined to be stand-offish, so if
ever I get an opportunity I don't mind risking it. Now, I think, if
you'll excuse me, I'll say good-night. That wretched old bucket of a
steamer rolled so all the way up from Tanjong Priok that I have hardly
had a wink of sleep these three nights past."
"Good-night, and thank you very much for your company. Glad to have
met you, I'm sure."
I reciprocated, and, having done so, left him and went to my room,
where I turned into bed to dream that I had abducted Alie, and could
never remember in what part of the world I had hidden her.
Next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, I went down into the
town, shopping. When I returned about eleven o'clock I discovered Alie
and her chaperone sitting in the verandah, waiting for a double
rickshaw which one of the hotel boys had gone out to procure.
Ebbington was seated in a chair near by, and evidently seemed to
consider this a good opportunity for effecting the introduction he had
proposed the night before. I entered into conversation with him for a
few moments, and then, crossing the verandah, asked the ladies in
which direction they contemplated going.
"Where do you think?" said Alie, with her best New York accent. "Well,
first I guess we're going to look for a dry goods store, and then I
reckon we'll just take a _pasear_ round the town."
"You should go and see Whampoa's Garden," I said, hoping she would
understand what I was driving at. "They tell me it's one of the sights
of the place."
"But how do you get there?" asked Alie, her quick perception telling
her my object. "We must know the way, I reckon, before we start, or
we'll just get lost, and then you'll have to call out all the town to
find us."
"One moment and I'll inquire."
Ebbington, having overheard what had passed between us, as I intended
he should do, had risen, and now approached us. I turned to him and
said:
"My friends want to find the way to Whampoa's Garden, Mr. Ebbington.
Could you direct them? But first, perhaps, I ought to introduce you.
Mr. Ebbington--Mrs. Beecher--Miss Sanderson."
They bowed politely to each other, and then Ebbington, having begged
the ladies' permission, gave instructions in Malay to the rickshaw
coolie, who by this time had drawn up at the steps. Tendering their
thanks to him they stepped into their conveyance and were drawn away.
When they had disappeared round the corner, Ebbington crossed the
verandah, and sitting down beside me favoured me with his opinions.
Even in this short space of time the charm of the heiress seemed to
have impressed itself upon him. Though inwardly writhing at the tone
he adopted, I had to pretend to be interested. It was a difficult
matter, however, and I was more relieved than I can say, when he
remembered business elsewhere, and betook himself off to attend to it.
So far all had gone well. The bait was fixed, and it would be
surprising now if the victim did not walk into the trap so artfully
contrived for him.
That evening after dinner I fell into casual conversation with the
proprietor of the hotel, and it was not until nearly half an hour
later that I managed to escape from him and get into the verandah.
When I did, to my surprise, I found the ladies reclining in their
chairs listening to the conversation of Mr. Ebbington. He was regaling
them with a highly-coloured account of his experiences in the East,
and from the attention his remarks were receiving it was evident he
was doing ample justice to his subject. I pulled a chair up beside
Alie and listened. Within five minutes, however, of my arrival he
introduced Mr. Vesey's name, and instantly she stopped him by saying:
"Now, where have I heard that name before? It seems, somehow, to be
very familiar to me."
"Perhaps you've heard the story of his abduction by the Beautiful
White Devil," said Ebbington, who saw that I was about to speak and
was anxious to forestall me.
"No, I guess not," answered Alie. "I reckon I was thinking of Klener
W. Vesey, of Wall Street, who operates considerable in pork. But tell
me, who is this Beautiful White Devil one hears so much about,
anyway?"
There was a pause, but I held my peace and let Ebbington's tongue run
riot with him.
"Ah! there you have me at a disadvantage," he began, pluming himself
for the big speech I could see was imminent. "Some say she's a
European lady of title gone mad on Captain Marryat and Clarke Russell.
Others aver that she's not a woman at all, but a man disguised in
woman's clothes. But the real truth, I'm inclined to fancy, is that
she's the daughter of a drunken old desperado, once an English naval
man, who for years made himself a terror in these seas."
When I heard him thus commit himself, I looked across at Alie, half
expecting that she would lose control of herself and annihilate him
upon the spot. But save a little twitching round the corners of her
mouth, she allowed no sign of the wrath that I knew was raging within
her breast to escape her. In a voice as steady as when she had
inquired the way to Whampoa's Garden that morning, she continued her
questions.
"I'm really quite interested. And pray what has this, what do you call
her, Beautiful White Devil, done to carry on the family reputation?"
Again Ebbington saw his chance, and, like the born yarn-spinner he
was, took immediate advantage of it.
"What has she not done would be the best thing to ask. She has
abducted the Sultan of Surabaya, the Rajah of Tavoy, Vesey of Hong
Kong, and half a dozen Chinese mandarins at least. She has robbed the
_Vectis Queen_, the _Ooloomoo_--and that with the Governor of Hong
Kong on board; stopped the _Oodnadatta_ only three months ago in the
Ly-ee-moon Pass, when she went through the bullion-room to the extent
of over a million and a half, almost under the cruisers' noses."
"But what mission does she accomplish with this vast wealth when she
has accumulated it, do you think, Mr. Ebbington?" said the quiet voice
of Mrs. Beecher from the depths of her chair. "Does she do no good
with it at all?"
"Good!" that wretched being replied, quite unconscious of the trouble
he was heaping up for himself. "Why, she never did a ha'porth of good
in her life. No, I'll tell you what she _does_ do with it. It is well
known that she has a rendezvous somewhere in the Pacific, a tropical
island, they say, where scenes are enacted between her cruises that
would raise blushes on the cheeks of an Egyptian mummy."
"You are evidently very much prejudiced against her," I answered
hotly. "Now _I_ have heard some very different stories. And with all
due respect to you, Mr. Ebbington----"
But fortunately at this juncture my presence of mind returned to me,
and, a servant approaching to take our empty coffee cups, I was able
to seize the opportunity and bring my riotous tongue to a halt. When
the boy had gone, Alie turned the conversation into another channel,
and after that all was plain sailing once more. To add to our
enjoyment, about ten o'clock another servant came to inform Mr.
Ebbington that a gentleman desired to see him in the smoking-room, and
accordingly, bidding us good-night, he went off to interview him. Mrs.
Beecher then made an excuse and retired to her room, leaving us alone
together.
"Alie," I said reproachfully, "if anything had happened just now you
would have had only yourself to blame for it. That man's insolent
lying was more than I could stand. In another moment, if that servant
had not come in, I believe I should have lost all control of myself,
and, ten chances to one, have ruined everything. Why did you do it?"
"Because I wanted to find out how he was in the habit of talking about
me. That was why."
"But do you think he was really in earnest? May it not have been only
a mask to prevent anyone from suspecting that he is your agent in this
place?"
"No. He meant it. Of that there can be no doubt. The man, I can see,
for some inscrutable reason hates the real _me_ with his whole heart
and soul, and the treachery he is preparing now is to be his revenge.
Couldn't you hear the change, the grating, in his voice when my name
occurred? Ah, Mr. Ebbington, my clever man, you will find that it is a
very foolish policy on your part to quarrel with me."
"When do you mean to make the attempt to capture him?"
"On Friday evening; that is the day after to-morrow. The new admiral
will be here on Saturday morning at latest, and I must anticipate him,
for I have learned that Ebbington received a note from the authorities
this morning, definitely fixing the hour for the interview at eleven
o'clock. He need make no arrangements, however, for he won't be
there!"
"It will be an awful moment for him when he realises who you are. I
would not be in his shoes for all the gold of India."
"You would never have acted as he has done," she answered softly,
turning her head away.
This was the opportunity for finding out what she intended concerning
myself, so I drew a little closer to her.
"Alie," I said, "the time has now come for me to ask you when you wish
to say 'good-bye' to me. I have done my professional work for you, and
on Friday I shall have assisted you to the very best of my ability in
the matter of this wretched fellow. What am I to do then? Am I to say
farewell to you here, or what?"
Her voice had almost a falter in it as she replied:
"Oh, no! we will not say 'good-bye' here. Cannot you return with me? I
have been counting so much on that." Here she paused for a moment.
"But no! Perhaps I ought not to ask you--you have your work in life,
and, seeing what you have already done for us, I should be the last to
keep you from the path of duty."
"If you wish me to come back with you, Alie," I answered quickly, "I
will come with a glad heart. I have no duty to consider, and as I
have given up my practice, I have no patients to give me any concern.
But how shall I get back to England later on?"
"I will arrange that you shall be sent down to Torres Straits, and you
can go home via Australia, if that will suit you. Never fear, I will
attend to that part of it when it becomes necessary."
"Then I will go with you."
"I thank you. Good-night!"
I bade her good-night, and she left me to go to her room. As, however,
I was in no humour for sleeping myself, I stayed in the verandah,
looking down the quaint lamp-lit street, along which only an
occasional belated foot passenger, a Sikh policeman or two, and a few
tired rickshaw coolies wended their way. I was thinking of the
strangeness of my position. When I came to work it out, and to review
the whole chain of events dispassionately, it seemed almost
incredible. I could hardly believe that George De Normanville the
staid medical man, and George De Normanville the lover of the
Beautiful White Devil, and assistant in a scheme for abducting one of
Singapore's most prominent citizens, were one and the same person.
However, I was thoroughly content; Alie loved me, and I wanted nothing
more.
Next morning, after breakfast, I discovered that Miss Sanderson and
her companion were setting off for a day's pleasuring, and that Mr.
Ebbington was to be their sole conductor and escort. It was noticeable
that he had donned a new suit of clothes in honour of the occasion,
and I saw that he wore a sprig of japonica in his buttonhole. From his
expression I concluded that he was very well satisfied with himself,
but whether he would have been quite so confident had he known who his
fair friends really were was quite another matter, and one upon which
I could only conjecture.
They returned in time for tiffin, and during the meal Ebbington
confided to me the fact that the heiress had been most gracious to
him. From what he said I gathered that, unless somebody else
interfered and spoiled sport, he felt pretty confident of ultimately
securing her.
"Take care your friend the Beautiful White Devil, or whatever you call
her, doesn't get jealous," I said with a laugh, wishing to get him on
to delicate ground in order to see how quickly he would wriggle off it
again.
"Don't mention them in the same breath, for goodness' sake," he
answered. "Miss Sanderson and that woman----Why, man alive, they're
not to be compared!"
"Ah!" I thought to myself, "if you only knew, my friend, if you only
knew!"
"Don't you wish you were in my place?" he said with a smile, as he
rose to go.
"No; if you wish me to be candid," I answered, "I cannot say that I
do."
He thereupon left me and went out into the verandah. We spent the
afternoon with the ladies in the garden, and at their request remained
to take tea with them. During this _al fresco_ meal, which was
presided over by Miss Sanderson herself, my companion stated that it
was his desire to arrange something a little out of the common for the
ladies' amusement.
"What shall it be?" he asked, with the magnificence of an Oriental
potentate to whom all things are possible. "A picnic? But that is not
much fun here. A dance? But it's too hot for that. What would you
like?"
Alie seemed to reflect for a few moments, and then she said, with an
appearance of animation:
"Do you really want to give us a treat, Mr. Ebbington? Then I reckon
the nicest thing you can possibly do, on these hot nights, would be to
take us for a trip on the water. I know Mrs. Beecher thinks so too.
Now, you just get us a launch and trot us round. I guess that'll be
real delightful."
She clapped her hands and appeared to be so pleased with the idea
that, whatever he may himself have thought of it, there was nothing
for Ebbington to do but to assent.
"We'll take some supper," she continued, as if a new idea had struck
her, "and you gentlemen shall bring your cigars, and we'll spend a
delightful evening. I'm fonder of the sea than you can think. But I do
just wish you could see New York Harbour. You should see Newport, too,
where my papa's got a cottage. It's real fine."
After dinner that evening Ebbington reported that he had engaged a
steam launch, and also that he had ordered the supper. Thereupon, to
encourage him, Miss Sanderson professed herself to be looking forward
to the trip more than she had ever done to anything else in her life.
Accordingly next evening, immediately after dinner, we saw that our
charges were carefully wrapped up, chartered rickshaws, and set off
for the harbour. It was a lovely night, with a young moon just
showing like a silver sickle above the roofs. We were all in the
highest spirits, although, I must confess, my own were not unmixed
with a slight dash of nervousness as to what the upshot of our
excursion would be.
Arriving at the harbour side, we found the launch in waiting. She was
a smart, serviceable little craft, manned by two native sailors and an
engineer. We descended the wharf steps in single file, and, as I was
nearest to her, I stepped on board and gave Alie my hand to assist her
to embark. She squeezed it gently, by way of wishing me good luck of
our enterprise, sprang aboard, and when we had taken our places aft
the order was given and we pushed off.
The harbour was densely crowded with craft of all nationalities and
descriptions, and in and out among them we threaded our way, now
dodging under the bows of a Messageries Maritime mail boat, now under
the stern of a P. and O. steamer, or a Norwegian timber boat, between
native praus and dingy ocean tramps, steam launches, and small fry
generally, and finally out into the open sea.
Inside the water was as smooth as a mill pond, but when we left the
shelter of the high land and passed outside, the complexion of affairs
was somewhat altered. But as our party were all good sailors, the
tumbling and tossing we endured hardly mattered. For over an hour we
steamed up and down, and then, pausing in the shelter of the harbour
again, cast about us for a suitable spot to have our supper.
I had noticed all through the evening, and, for the matter of that,
throughout the day, that Ebbington's manner towards Alie was every
moment growing more unpleasantly familiar. By the time he had
completed his first bottle of champagne at supper, it was about as
much as I could stand; indeed, twice he called her by her assumed
Christian name, and once he tried to take her hand. Remembering,
however, what would follow later, I kept a tight rein upon myself, and
did not allow any expression of my feelings to escape me.
"After all, give me American girls," our hero was saying, with an
insolent freedom for which I could have kicked him, as he lit his
cigar. "There's none of that stand-offishness about them that there is
with our English women. You can say more to them without their being
offended and wanting to call their fathers in to you."
"You mean, perhaps, that we are more good-natured," said Alie. "I'm
afraid, however, we're sometimes unwise enough to permit people to
become familiar on a three days' acquaintance, and that's a very
foolish thing."
"Oh, come now, Miss Sanderson," said our host, uncorking another
bottle of champagne, filling up Alie's glass, and then helping himself
liberally. "I think that's a little severe, isn't it? One thing I
know, though, you don't mean it, do you?"
"I am not so certain of that," she replied. "It's just possible that I
may be compelled to do so. But let us talk of something else. What a
lovely night it is, isn't it? I think this harbour's just delightful
by moonlight. Say, Mr. Ebbington, couldn't we come on to-morrow
morning for a while, about eleven o'clock. Just to oblige me, don't
you think you could manage it?"
Knowing that eleven was the hour at which he was to see the admiral, I
waited to hear what answer he would make. It was easy to see that he
was a little nonplussed, for he expressed his sorrow that, through an
important business engagement, he would be quite unable to comply with
her request, and for some time sat in sulky silence. Just as he was
going to speak again, however, we descried a boat pulling across
towards us from the wharves on the other side. As it approached the
shore Alie signed to me, and, divining her intention, I went down to
inquire its errand. The boat having grounded, a native waded ashore,
and handed me a large packet and a letter, which I immediately
conveyed to Alie. She took it, and then turning to Ebbington, who had
been surveying the scene with no small astonishment, said:
"I'm afraid, Mr. Ebbington, this means some business which will
necessitate our going back to the hotel at once. Do you mind so very
much?"
"Not at all," he answered promptly; then, as if he thought he might
turn it to account, continued, "You know that my only ambition is to
serve you."
Disregarding this polite speech, which was uttered with a leer that
made my fingers itch to be alongside his head, Alie led the way up the
plank and on board the launch again. We pushed off from the shore and
began to steam ahead. Then Alie nodded to me, and I tapped the
engineer on the shoulder and signified that he should stop. He looked
surprised, but obeyed. Ebbington, however, did not like this
interference on my part, and sprang to his feet.
"Why did you tell that man to stop?" he cried, angrily. "I'll trouble
you to remember that I'm----"
"And I'll just trouble you to sit down where you are and hold your
tongue, Mr. Ebbington," said Alie, dropping her American accent
altogether, and drawing a revolver from beneath her cloak. "The game
is over as far as you are concerned, so you may as well submit with as
good a grace as possible."
"What does this mean, Miss Sanderson?" he cried excitedly.
"Sit down there, as I tell you," she answered, "and don't make any
noise, or you'll get into trouble. I shall answer no questions, but if
you attempt to move I promise you I'll shoot you there and then."
He said no more, but sat between us trembling like the arrant coward
he was. Alie went forward to the engineer and said something in Malay;
then, after a moment's conversation with one of the crew, she returned
aft, took the tiller, and steered for the open sea. The little craft
fumed and fussed on her way for an hour or so, tossing the foam off
either bow, and covering the distance in first-rate style.
Suddenly the look-out, posted forrard, uttered a cry, and next moment
we saw ahead of us a green light. It was obscured and revealed three
times. This, I knew, was the yacht's signal, and in less than a
quarter of an hour we were alongside, had hitched on, and were safely
aboard. The launch's crew were then suitably rewarded and sent back to
Singapore.
As we reached the deck Ebbington must have read the yacht's name on a
life-buoy, and realised into whose hands he had fallen. For a moment
he stood rooted to the spot, then he staggered a pace forward,
clutched at a stay, and, missing it, fell upon the deck in a dead
faint. As I stooped to see what was the matter with him I felt the
tremor of the screw. Our errand was accomplished. Singapore was a
thing of the past. We were on our way back to the island once more.