A Fascinating Traitor

C >> Col. Richard Henry Savage >> A Fascinating Traitor

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Madame Berthe Louison was seen in Delhi, in public, for the last
time, as she gazed steadily at the brilliant throng on the lawns
of the marble house. A fete Champetre had brought "all of Delhi"
together, and the conspicuous absence of "the French Countess" was
the reigning sensation. The tall, bent form of Hugh Fraser Johnstone
was prominent reigning as host, under a great marquee. Neither of
the great generals were there, however, for Simpson had drawn Major
Hardwicke aside to whisper: "A captain's guard came here to-day
and took an enormous treasure in precious stones up to Willoughby's
Headquarters!" and the two commanders were even then busied in
listing the recovered loot, with a dozen yellow-faced Hindus and
several confidential staff officers. "It's the last act, Captain
darlin'," said Simpson. "Old Hugh has given me secret orders to
get ready to go on to London. He only takes his personal articles.
Young Douglas Fraser will come here and manage the Indian estates."

"Who's he?" eagerly cried Hardwicke.

"The fellow who carried the women away--the old man's only nephew."

"Ah! now I see!" heavily breathed Hardwicke. "I will take the
previous boat, and wait for the old man at Brindisi! Post me! I'll
keep mum!"

"Depend on me for my life itself," said Simpson; "but be prudent!
I don't want to lose my life pension. He's been a good master to
me. We've grown old together!" sighed the gray-headed soldier.

The frightened Ram Lal Singh was driven around Delhi this eventful
day like a hunted rat. Suddenly summoned to General Willoughby's
private rooms, escorted by a sergeant, who never left him a moment,
the old Mohammedan was ushered into the presence of the two generals,
who pounced upon him and showed him a great, assorted treasure in
diamonds, pearls, pigeon rubies, sapphires, and emeralds of great
size and richness. They were all duly weighed and listed, and
duplicate official invoices lay signed upon the table.

"You were Mirzah Shah's Royal Treasure Keeper? Tell me. Are all
his jewels here? The treasure that disappeared at Humayoon's Tomb
before Hodson slew the princes in the melee?"

Ram Lal saw the frowns of men who had blown better men than himself
from the guns in the old days, and he had a vivid memory of those
same hideous scenes.

"They are about half here in weight and number; about a quarter of
the value. There is a hundred thousand pounds worth missing!" said
the jewel dealer, gazing on the totals of numbers and weights.
"The historic diamonds, the matchless pearls, the never-equaled
rubies--all the choicest have been abstracted, and by a skillful
hand!"

"Go, then!" cried Willoughby. "Seal this in your breast! Speak to
no one or you'll die in jail, wearing irons! Here!" A hundred-pound
note was thrust into his hand, and he was whirled away to his shop.

"Ah! The gray devil! he has stolen and hidden the best! I will watch
him like a ghoul of Bowanee, and they shall be mine! He would turn
tail now and steal away!" Ram Lal laughed an oily laugh, and going
to an old cabinet, took out a heavy kreese. "The poisoned dagger of
Mirzah Shah!" he smiled. "After many years!" It was Hugh Johnstone
himself who sought Ram Lal in his pagoda that afternoon, and, after
making some heavy purchases, finally drew out a list of jewels.

"I wish you to certify, Ram Lal," he cautiously said, "that these
are all the jewels of Mirzah Shah, that you handled as 'Keeper of
the Prince's Treasure,' before the Meerut mutineers rushed down
upon us." Slowly peering over the paper, the crafty Ram Lal said:

"You forget, Sahib, that I was sent away to Lucknow and Cawnpore,
by Mirzah Shah, with letters to Nana Sahib and Tantia Topee. I was
shut out of Delhi till after the British were camped on the Windmill
Ridge, and for months I never saw the royal jewels! Every moon the
list was made anew. The mollahs and moonshees and treasurers took
jewels for the Zenana every moon, and for the gifts of the princes.
I could not testify to this!" The old man was on his guard.

"I will pay you well, Ram Lal. It is my last little matter to
settle with the authorities! Then my accounts are closed forever!
As Treasurer you could do this!" Old Hugh Fraser Johnstone was
ignorant of the veiled scrutiny of his stewardship.

Ram Lal raised his head, at last, with something like defiance.
"The better half is gone--the rarest--the richest! True, the princes
may have divided them, they may have bribed their mutineer officers
with some, but, a true list may be in the hands of these Crown
officers here. They captured all the Palace papers. Now, I did not
open them at Humayoon's Tomb. You know," he faltered, "how they
passed through your hands!"

Hugh Johnstone, for the last time tried to threaten and bully. "I
will have you punished. I paid you well--you must lie for me! We
both lied then."

"Then the curse of Allah be upon the liar who lies now," solemnly
said Ram Lal Singh. "I will not sign! I have the savings of years
to guard. You will go away and the Crown will come upon me for the
missing gems. I was absent five months from the Palace when you
were in Brigadier Wilson's Camp! I will offer my head to these
generals, but I will not sign! The Kaisar-I-Hind is just, and I will
tell all!" With an oath of smothered rage, Hugh Johnstone strode
away.

"I must try and make a royal present to Willoughby's wife,--a timely
one--and lose a half a lac of rupees to Abercromby. They may find
a way to pass the matter over." He dared not press Ram Lal to a
public exposition of all the wanderings of Mirzah Shah's jewels.
"If I had not told them that fairy tale, I might hedge; but it's
too late now. I will go down to Calcutta, see the Viceroy, and
then clear out for good. And I must placate Alan Hawke. I was a
fool to ignore him. But, to make an enemy of him, on account of
that damned woman, would be ruin. He chums with Ram Lal. He might
cable to Anstruther."

In fact Alan Hawke's bold social revolt had imposed on Johnstone.
"He might help to cover all up if I induced Abercromby to get him
back on the staff once more. I was a fool to slight him." Hugh
Fraser Johnstone was dimly conscious that his own line of battle was
wavering, and that his flanks were unguarded--his rear unprotected.
"I will only trust my homeward pathway to Simpson, and my health
is a good excuse for clearing out for good. I can easily locate
on the Continent--in Belgium, or Switzerland--and out of reach of
any little trouble to come. They've no proof. This fellow has no
list, thank Heaven. I'll slip down to Ceylon and catch the first
boat there to Suez. Then ho for Geneva!"

But Ram Lal Singh's slight defenses fell instantly before the golden
battering-ram of Madame Berthe Louison's direct onslaught. "I was
busied in the bazaars, buying jewels," he expostulated, when Jules
Victor led him into Madame Louison's boudoir. Even then Major Hawke
was curiously noting the dismantled condition of the reception-room,
where Johnstone had at last thrown off the mask.

"I leave Major Hawke here to close all my business, Ram Lal," she
said. "I go to Calcutta. I may be gone for some months. But I have
watched you and him. You are close friends--very close friends. Now,
remember that I pay him and I pay you. I wish you to give me--to
sell me--the list of the jewels which Johnstone took away from
you and hid, when he was Hugh Fraser." The old scoundrel began to
protest. Berthe Louison rang her silver bell. "Jules!" she said, "I
wish you to go to General Willoughby with this letter, and tell him
to send a guard here to arrest a thief who has government jewels."

Ram Lal was on the floor at her feet, groveling, before she grimly
smiled, as he held out a paper, quickly extracted from his red sash.
"That will do, Jules." The Frenchman stood without the door. "You
will not run away. You are far too rich, Ram Lal. And you will be
watched every moment. Sign and seal the list, and date it to-day."
The old craven begged hard for mercy. "Here is a hundred pounds.
Hawke will pay you four hundred more when I am safely on the sea,
but only then! He will close all my bills. Remember, I shall come
back again. And," she whispered a word, "he will watch you closely."
The jeweler sealed the document, and scribbled his certificate.
"Not one word of my business, not even to Hawke, on your life,"
she said. "I shall come again! And General Willoughby will throw
you in prison on a word from me."

Major Alan Hawke was astounded, after an hour's yielding to the
social charm of Madame Alixe Delavigne, when the happy woman led
him away from the dinner table. "Now for a half-hour's business
chat," she gayly said. "No, no notes. We shall next meet at No.
9 Rue Berlioz, Paris. You will receive my sealed directions from
Grindlay's agent here, with funds to settle my affairs. I go to-night
to Calcutta, and thence to Europe. Obey my orders. You will get
them, sealed, from the agent here. You can come on, by Bombay, when
I cable to you. I will cable direct here to Grindlay's. They'll
not lose sight of you," she smiled.

"And my relations with old Hugh?" he gasped in surprise.

"Just watch him and follow him on to Europe. Neither you nor he can
do me any harm, but your reward for your manly stand to-day will
reach you in Paris. I knew of it."

"Shall I not see you to the train?" Hawke stammered.

"Ah!" she smiled, extending her hand warmly, "I have a double
guard and my servants. I will be met at Calcutta, and I go on my
way safely now to work a slow vengeance!"

CHAPTER X.

A CAPTIVATED VICEROY.

There were several "late parties" in sumptuous Delhi, on the evening
when Madame Berthe Louison drove quietly to the railway station at
two o'clock. A little knot of tired officials were still on duty,
and when some forerunner had given a private signal, a single car,
drawn by a powerful locomotive, glided out of the darkness.

In a few moments a dozen trunks and a score of bags and bundles
were tossed aboard the baggage van. Five persons stepped nimbly
aboard, and then with no warning signal, the Lady of the Silver
Bungalow was borne out into the darkness, racing on toward Calcutta
with the swiftness of the wind.

Jules Victor, vigorous and alert, after several cups of cafe noir,
well dashed with cognac, disposed his two Lefacheux revolvers in
readiness, and then betook himself to a nap. His bright-eyed wife
was in the compartment with her beautiful mistress, and ready to
sound a shrill Gallic alarm at any moment. She gravely eyed the
two escorting officials of the bank. Marie said in her heart that
"all men were liars," and she believed most of them to be voleurs,
in addition. Jules, when the little train was whirling along a-metals
a score of miles away from Delhi, relaxed his Zouave vigilance, and
bade a long adieu to Delhi, in a vigorous grunt. "Va bane! Sacre
Canaille!"

There was silence at the railway station when the head agent
wearily said, "I suppose the Bank is moving a lot of notes back to
Calcutta! They are a rum slick lot, these money changers!" When
all was left in darkness, save where a blinking red and white line
signal still showed, Ram Lal Singh crept away from the line of the
rails. The rich jewel vender clutched in his bosom the handle of
Mirzah Shah's poisoned dagger, the deadly dagger of a merciless
prince.

He had long pondered over the sudden demand made upon him by the
Lady of the Silver Bungalow. And he greatly desired to re-adjust
his relations with Hugh Johnstone and Major Alan Hawke. The daily
usefulness of "Lying as a Fine Art" was never before so apparent
to Ram Lal. He slunk away on foot to his own bit of a zenana.

"I must try to deceive them both! Fool that I was not to see
it before! These two Generals are her friends, of old! The secret
protector of the wonderful moon-eyed beauty here is General
Willoughby, and the other General will secretly help her down at
Calcutta. She came up here, secretly, to see her old lover Willoughby,
and that is why she would be able to have a guard arrest me. For
she said just what they said about the prison. Willoughby goes down
often to Calcutta! Ah! Yes! They are all the same, these English!
Fools! Not to lock their women up, when they have once bought them,
with a secret price! And now, Hawke must never know of this paper
I gave her. She would find out, and then have the General punish me.
Now I know why she went not to the great English Mem-Sahibs here!
And these two great General Sahibs have had her spy upon this old
man, Hugh Fraser--the man who would steal away with the Queen's
jewels. They would have them. By Bowanee! I will have them first!
For I can hide them where they never will find them! I will trade
them off to the Princes, who know the old jewels of Oude. They will
give me double weight, treble value." Ram Lal crept into his hidden
love nest, his skinny hand clutching the golden shaft of Mirzah
Shah's dagger. "I might surrender them later and get an enormous
reward from the Crown," he mused.

At the Delhi Club, Major Alan Hawke, in a strange unrest, paced his
floor half the night. "I stand now nearly eleven thousand pounds
to the good, with outlying counties to hear from, as the Yankees
say." He smiled, "that is, if the old fox does not stop these drafts.
If he does, I'll stop him!" he swore. And yet, he was troubled at
heart. "I know Alixe Delavigne will call me back and pay me well.
How did she find out about my bold bluff to Johnstone? Some servant
may have overheard, and she is a deep one. She may even have her
own spies there!"

"Justine, I can count on you to help me later. But, how to treat
old Hugh?" His dreams of an army reinstatement came back to worry
him. "I might go to Abercromby and warn him about Johnstone. Damn
it! I've no proof as yet! Berthe Louison will fire the great gun
herself." The renegade fell asleep, torturing himself about the
needless breach with Johnstone. "All violence is a mistake!" he
muttered, half asleep. "The angry old man will keep me away from
the girl forever, and the old brute is going to Europe. I have
spoiled one game in taking one trick too roughly."

Another "late party" was at Major Hardwicke's quarters, where the
loyal Simpson related to the lover all the gossip of Johnstone and
General Abercromby, over their brandy pawnee and cheroots. Simpson
was the eager servitor of the young engineer, whom he loved.

General Willoughby had a little fit of "work" which seized upon him,
and so he toiled till late at night, sending some cipher dispatches
to the Viceroy. "I may make a point in this, perhaps a C. B.,"
said the old veteran, who was sharper when drunk than sober. "I'll
put a pin in Johnstone's game, and get ahead of Abercromby." This
last old warrior had secretly vowed to force Hugh Fraser Johnstone
to present him to the "little party in the Silver Bungalow." The
Calcutta general was a Knight of Venus, as well as a Son of Mars,
and had guarded memories of some wild episodes of his own there in
the halcyon days of the great chieftain who had builded it. A gay
young staff officer whispered:

"Alan Hawke is the only one who really has the 'open sesame.' He
knows that 'little party.' Didn't you see Johnstone hurry her away?
The old nabob, too, is sly."

"Ah!" mused the General. "I'll make Johnstone have Hawke here to
breakfast. Devilish clever fellow--and he'll take me there!" Alas!
for these rosy anticipations. The "little party" was already at
Allahabad before the gouty general awoke from his love dream.

And, last of all the "late parties" on this eventful night was Hugh
Fraser Johnstone's little solitary council of war. He had, with
a prescience of coming trouble, detailed two of his own keenest
personal servants to watch the Silver Bungalow, from daylight,
relieving each other, and never losing sight a moment of the hidden
tiger's den. "I'll find out who goes and comes there! By God! I
will!" he raged. After a long cogitation, he evolved a "way out" of
his quarrel with Hawke. "Damn the fellow! I must not drive him over
into the enemy's camp. I'll have him here--to breakfast, to-morrow.
The jewels are safely out of the way now. For a few pounds he will
watch this she-devil, and that yellow thief, Ram Lal, for me. My
only danger is in their coming together. I'll get a note to him
early." Seizing his chit-book, he dashed off in a frankly apologetic
way a few lines. "There! That'll do! Not too much!" He read his
lines with a final approval.

"Dear Hawke: I've been worried to death with a lot of people thrust
on me. Mere figure-heads. You must excuse an old friend--an old
man--and Madame Louison is like all women--only a bundle of nerves.
Come over to the house to-day at noon and breakfast with Abercromby
and myself alone. I'll send you back to Calcutta with him on a
little run. I appreciate your manliness in keeping out of my little
misunderstanding with the Madame. By the way, a few words from
Abercromby to the Viceroy would put you back on the Army Staff,
where you rightly belong. Let bygones be bygones, and you can make
your play on the General, It's the one chance of a life. Come and
see me. J."

"There! He will never show that!" mused Hugh Johnstone. "It touches
his one little raw spot!" And calling a boy the old Commissioner
dispatched the note, carefully sealed, to the Club. The last one
to seek his rest in the marble house, old Johnstone was strangely
shaken by the events of the day.

Berthe Louison's threats, Ram Lal's stubborn refusal, and the useless
quarrel with Hawke had unmanned him. He drank a strong glass of
grog and then sought his room. "All things settle themselves at
last! This thing will blow over! I wish to God that she was out of
the way! I could then handle the rest!" For in his heart he feared
the defiant woman.

There were two men equally surprised when gunfire brought the
"day's doings" on again in lazy, luxurious Delhi. Over his morning
coffee, Major Alan Hawke thankfully cried: "I am a very devil for
luck! This old skinflint is opening his bosom and handing me a
knife. By God! I'll have my pound of flesh!" He leaped from his
couch as blithe as a midshipman receiving his first love letter
from a fullgrown dame. There was great joy in the house of Hawke.

But when Simpson entered his master's room he was followed by a
wild-eyed returning emissary, who waited till the old soldier had
left the room. Hugh Johnstone suddenly lost all interest in the
breakfast tray, the letters and his morning toilet, when the Hindu
fearfully said: "They are all gone--the Mem-Sahib, the two foreign
devils, and all their belongings!"

Johnstone was on his feet with a single bound. "Gone! What do you
tell me, you fool?" He was shaking the slim-boned native as if he
were a man of straw.

"They went to the railroad at two o'clock at night, the coachman
told me. We only began our watch by your orders at daybreak. She
had been then gone four hours." Johnstone foamed in an impotent
rage.

"Who is left in the house?" he roared.

"Nobody, Sahib." tersely said the Hindu.

"Get out and send me Simpson!" the old man sternly said. "Go back
and watch that house till I have you relieved. Tell me everyone
who goes in or out!"

And then the horrible fear that Willoughby or Abercromby had
deceived him, began to dawn upon his excited mind. "Simpson," he
cried, "there's a good fellow! Take the first trap and get over
to Major Hawke. Tell him that I must see him here, at once, on the
most important business. He must come. Then get to Ram Lal, and
bring him yourself to your own room. Let me know, privately, when
he is there. Never mind my dressing. Send me a couple of the others.
Is the General awake?"

"Just coming down for his ride! Horses ordered in half an hour!"

Simpson fled away, muttering, "Hardwicke must know of this!"

Hugh Johnstone fancied that he was dreaming when he met his official
guest, refreshed and jovial, but still under the spell of Venus.

"See here, Hugh!" said the gallant Abercromby. "I want you to present
me to that stunning woman over there, at the Silver Bungalow, you
know. They tell me she's the Queen of Delhi. You old rascal, I'm
bound to know her! Can't we have a little breakfast there, under
the rose?" A last desperate expedient occurred to Johnstone. His
baronetcy was in danger now.

"There's but one man in Delhi can bring you within the fairy circle.
That's Hawke--a devilish good officer too, by the way! Ought to be
back on the 'Temporary Staff,' at least! He comes here to breakfast!
I'll turn you over to him. He manages all the lady's private affairs.
He is your man."

General Abercromby turned a stony eye upon his host. "Does Willoughby
go there?" he huskily whispered.

"Never crossed the line! Hawke is far too shy. You see, Willoughby
has not recognized Major Hawke's rank and past services!"

"Ah!" said the jealous warrior. "If Hawke is the man you say he
is, I can get the Viceroy to give him a local rank, in two weeks!
Send him down with me to Calcutta!" and the gay old would-be lover
jingled away on his morning ride.

"This may be my one anchor of safety!" gasped the wondering Johnstone,
as Alan Hawke came dashing into the grounds. In half an hour, the
broken entente cordiale was restored, and Johnstone had slipped
away and questioned the wary Ram Lal.

"All I know is that the lady hired the house temporarily from me,
I am agent for Runjeet Hoy, who owns it now. She went without a
word, and gave me three hundred pounds yesternight, for her rent
and supplies. I asked the Mem-Sahib no questions. She went away
all by herself, in the middle of the night."

"Ah! You know nothing more?" sharply queried Johnstone.

"Of course not! I thought you, or Hawke Sahib, or General Wilhoughby,
was a secret friend." Slyly said Ram Lal.

"She owes you nothing? You do not expect her to return?" the nabob
cried.

"I think she has gone to Calcutta! She came from there."

"Come to-night, privately, Ram Lal. I'll show you how to get
in. Just tap at my bedroom window three times. Come secretly, at
eleven o'clock, and find out all you can. Wait in the garden till
the house is dark. I'll pay you well," continued Johnstone, leading
the old jeweler to his bedroom. "I will leave this one window
unfastened. So you can come in! The room will be dark!"

"The Sahib shall be obeyed!" said Ram Lal, salaaming to the
ground, and he was happy at heart as he glided out of the garden.
A ferocious smile of coming triumph gleamed in his dark face.
"I have him now! He will never slip away in the night! But I must
please him, and lie to him!" It was the chance for which he had
vainly waited there many years, and Ram Lal prayed to great Bowaaee
to aid him.

"Hawke!" said Johnstone, when his astounded listener heard all of
Johnstone's proposed infamy. "I have telegraphed to Allahabad and
Calcutta. This strange woman has gone down there. Now, I want you
to fall in with Abercromby. He will go down in a few days. Bring
them together in any way you can. The General and the beauty. No fool
like an old fool!" he grinned. "Watch them and post me! Abercromby
is already well disposed to you. Make a play on him. He will get
you a temporary rank from the Viceroy.

"Your matchless knowledge of the Himalayas and the whole northern
frontier will earn you a regular rank. Coddle Anstruther, too, and
cling to the Vice-roy! I'll back you with any money you need. It's
the one chance of a life!"

"And what am I to do for you, Johnstone?" quietly said the delighted
Hawke.

"Just stand by me about this baronetcy, and bamboozle this damned
foolish woman, while I slip quietly away to Europe! She is mercurial
and vain. Abercromby will get her into the fast Calcutta set, after
one necessary appearance at the Viceroy's! She is, after all, only
a woman. You can catch them with a feather, if you can catch them
at all! Once properly launched by Abercromby, you are a made man for
life! He will not dare to 'go back on you!' as our Yankee cousins
have it. The Viceroy will do anything for him!"

"By God! Johnstone! I'm your man! Count on me in life and death!"
warmly cried Hawke. The two men clasped hands.

There was a clatter and a jingle. The old warrior was on his return.
"Here he comes now! Fall in with his humor, and success to you at
Calcutta," whispered Johnstone. There was the very jolliest breakfast
imaginable at the marble house that day, and that same afternoon
Major. Alan Hawke rode all over Delhi as volunteer aide to General
Abercromby.

Two nights later General Abercromby whispered to Hugh Johnstone, at
a Grand Ball at Willoughby's Headquarters: "I've just had a telegram
from the Viceroy to return at once. Your matter is now all right.
I leave the property with Willoughby here. I'll go down in the
morning, if you'll fix me up." And then, Johnstone signing to Major
Alan Hawke, who had been the cynosure of all eyes, as he gracefully
led Madame la Generate Willoughby through a lanciers, took the
favorite of fortune aside.

"Make your adieux! Get out of here! Settle all your little affairs!
Send all your traps over to my house! General Abercromby wants to
slip away quietly in the morning! No one is to know! And you go
with him, at his urgent request."

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