A Fascinating Traitor

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

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"Yes," said Hardwicke. "A couple of days spent in the British Museum,
and with your fertile imagination, Eric, you will be enabled to
describe the mysterious, lonely city on the Dzangstu, and even the
gilded temples of Mount Botala. You can easily book up all about
the Dalai Lama. Make a voyage a la Tom Moore to Cashmere!"

"Right you are!" laughed Eric Murray. "Frank Halton stole into the
town of Hlassa and he now offers to me his sketchbooks and private
notebooks. Foreigners from the south have occasionally been allowed
to go into Thibet since the Nepauese were driven out, but only very
rarely. I will have all the rig and quaint outlandish gear that
Halton brought away. So you see we are the 'Ever Victorious Army.'
Yes. Prince Djiddin will be a go." And the others were fain to
agree in the plausibility of the scheme.

It was midnight when the quartette separated to meet at the quiet
wedding of the morrow. Alixe Delavigne had finally approved the
plan, when Anson Anstruther drew her away to confer upon the risk.
"You see," he pleaded, "Murray will never even speak to Miss
Johnstone. All that pleasing task is left to Prince Djiddin, who
can and will, of course, choose any unguarded moment. Captain Murray
will hold old Fraser personally in limbo, while you and Prince
Djiddin can meet the pretty captive in alternation. At any danger
signal, the Prince and Moonshee can quit Jersey at once. Then the
lightning thought came to the lady: "She already loves him! It must
be so! He is the only young officer who was ever allowed to enter
the Marble House in that long year of golden bondage. It shall be
so! I can trust to him for her sake, if he loves her for Love's own
sake. I can remain near Nadine then, even if they have to disappear,
for Jules will keep the pathway open." And yet, shamefaced in her
own growing tenderness for her mentor, Anstruther, she took these
wise counsels away to hide them in her own happy heart. "It will
make us then, Captain Murray," she said, as she extended her hand
in good night, "a little circle of five, gathered around this
motherless and fatherless girl to save her from the secret schemes
of tyrant and fortune hunter."

"Precisely so, Madame," laughed Murray, "when I have sworn in my
beautiful recruit to-morrow. Then we will be five in very truth."
There was a flying early morning visit to Hunt and Roskell's on the
morrow, which greatly astonished Captain Anstruther, who had escorted
Madame Alixe Delavigne down on her way to the pretty chapel at Kew,
where Captain Murray duly "swore in his beautiful recruit," with
bell, book, and candle. The parure of diamonds which the lady of
Jitomir gave to Mrs. Flossie Murray caused even the eyes of "The
Moonshee" to open in wonder at the little campaign breakfast of
the leaders of this Crusade of Love. "Only suited to the wife of
Prince Djiddin's High Chamberlain," laughed Alixe Delavigne, as the
happy Captain departed on his honeymoon tour, escaping showers of
rice, to "move upon the enemy's works in Jersey."

"Thank God that I have got that sharp-eyed Hawke safely out of
town," cried Captain Anstruther to his beautiful confidante, as
they escorted Miss Mildred back to beautiful Rosebank. The "lass
o' Richmond Hill" was no fairer than the happy woman who had seen
Major Hardwicke depart for a long conference with that all powerful
sprite of the magic pen, Frank Halton, who was now busied in
launching his creation, Prince Djiddin. "A single word at the 'F.
O.' will legalize our useful myth, 'Prince Djiddin,' and I hope
that Hardwicke and Murray will succeed. They can surely lose nothing
by the attempt. I am known to be the Viceroy's aide-de-camp 'on
leave,' a near kinsman, and I am sure that old Fraser would take
alarm at the first visit or written communication from me. Once
startled, he would soon be off to hide the jewels on the Continent,
and then only laugh at our efforts. Of course he will swear that
the insured packet only contained family papers or some of the
estate's securities. Yes! Alan Hawke is the only man whom I fear
now as to the safety of either the girl or the jewels. He seems
to have had many old dealings with Hugh Johnstone, too!" They were
silent as they threaded the beautiful Surrey garden lanes of the
old burgh of Sheen. Loved by the bluff Harrys of the English throne,
its beauties sung by poet and deputed by artist, the charming
declivities of Richmond gained a new name from Henry VII, and
its bosky shades once saw a kingly Edward, a Henry, and a mighty
Elizabeth drop the scepter of Great Britain from the palsied hand
of Death. Its little parish church to-day hides the ashes of the
pensive pastoral poet Thomson, and the bones of the great actor Kean.
But, Anstruther's active mind was only dwelling in the present,
as Miss Mildred nodded in the carriage. He saw again the simple
wedding of the morning, and heard once more those touching words
"I, Eric, take thee, Florence." Then his eyes sought the face of
Alixe Delavigne in a burning glance, which caused that lady to seek
her own bower in Rosebank villa, and hide her blushes from "Him
Who Would Not Be Denied." Miss Mildred smiled and nodded behind
her fan, for she heard the Bells of the Future sounding afar off.

The graceful woman escorted Captain Anstruther to the river's
edge that night, when he departed to a conference of moment with
Hardwicke and Halton. She fled back, like the swift Camilla, to
her own nest, as the Captain went forth upon the river. Only the
listening flowers heard her startled answer when Anstruther had found
a voice to tell the Pilgrim of Love his own story in a soldier's
frank way. "Wait, Anson! Wait, till you know me better, till our
quest is done; wait till the roses bloom here once more," she had
whispered.

"And if I do wait, Alixe--if I ask you again?" Anstruther cried as
he kissed her slender hand.

"Then you shall have my answer," she faltered, but her eyes shone
like stars as she lightly fled away.

Captain Anson Anstruther had reckoned without his host when he
rejoiced over Alan Hawke's departure. As the aide-de-camp sped down
the darkened river, he still saw Alixe Delavigne's eyes gleaming
down on him in every tender twinkling star, but the wily agent whom
he had dispatched to the Continent four days before, was near him
yet, and comfortably dining in a little snug public in the Tower
Hamlets, on this very night. He was looking for tools suited to a
dark game which busied his reckless heart.

Major Alan Hawke (temporary rank) had passed two days at Geneva
in a serious conference with the sorrowing sisters Delande. His
meeting with the softhearted Justine had brought the color back to
the poor woman's face, and she shyly held up the diamond bracelet
to his view, murmuring, "I have thought of you and kissed it every
night and morning, for your sake, Alan!"

With a glance of veiled tenderness, the acute schemer took his fair
dupe out upon the lake, while Euphrosyne directed the slow grinding
of the mills of the gods. "I must lose no time," Hawke pleaded,
"as I have to report for duty in London." And so, he gleaned the
story of the hegira and the situation at the Banker's Folly. He
heard all, and yet felt that there was a gap in the story. Justine
was true to her plighted word.

He instinctively felt that Justine was holding back something of
moment, and yet in his heart he felt that the price of that disclosure
would be his formal betrothal to the loving Justine. But he dared
not vow to marry, and the Swiss woman was loyally true to her oath.
He remained "their loving brother" as yet, and when two days later,
Alan Hawke departed for London direct, he mused vainly over the
tangled problem until he reported to Captain Anson Anstruther. "If
this greenhorn girl has any designs of her own she has not told
them yet to Justine. I must get a man to help me to work my scheme,
or go over to Jersey myself," he at last decided. He was secretly
happy at Captain Anstruther's prompt injunctions to make ready
for a tour of two months upon the Continent. "I shall have all
your detailed instructions prepared tomorrow, Major Hawke," said
the young aide-de-camp. "Meet me, therefore, at the Junior United
Service at ten o'clock; you can take a couple of days to look over
London, and then proceed at once to the delicate duty which I will
give to you. And, remember, the Viceroy's orders are that you are
to report to me alone, and also to preserve an absolute secrecy.
Your future rank will depend upon your discretion." Major Alan Hawke
was not as cheerful, however, when he opened his private mail at
Morley's Hotel, as when he had bade adieu to Captain Anstruther.
A formal communication from the Credit Lyonnais informed him that
Monsieur le Professeur Andrew Fraser had formally forbidden Messrs.
Glyn, Carr & Glyn to pay the four bills of exchange, acting in his
capacity of executor of a will duly filed at Doctor's Commons, and
that the four drafts must be proved as debts against the estate,
and so paid later, in due process of law on proof of the claim.
The refusal was due to the death of the drawer before presentment.

"Damn it! I must play a fine game now!" he glowered. "Anstruther
I must obey in all! Once back in India with rank, however, I can
force old Ram Lal to pay these drafts. He dare not resist--there's
the rope for him!

"And I must find a fellow to spy out the situation in Jersey.
I certainly dare not linger here!" He be-took himself to an old
haunt in Tower Hamlets, where the first stars of the "swell mob"
were wont to linger, a haunt where he had once taken refuge in his
changeling days, years before.

A glance at a man seated enjoying a good cigar at a table caused
his heart to leap up in joy. "Jack Blunt--of all men! By God! this
is luck!" he cried. When the happy Alan Hawke tapped the smoker
smartly on the shoulder he first laid a finger on his own lip and
then hastily said: "Get a private room, Jack, I want you at once.
I've a special bit of business in your line." Major Alan Hawke,
Temporary Rank, unattached, hastily bade the boni-face serve the
best supper available for two. "Mind you, no poison in the wine!"
he sharply said.

"We've the best vintages of London Docks," grinned the happy host,
as he sped away and left the two scoundrels alone.

"What are you doing now, Jack?" queried Hawke.

"Nothing," sullenly replied the middle-aged star of the swell mob.
"My eyes! you are in great form," he admiringly commented.

"Can you leave town for a week or so, on a little job for me?"
briskly continued the Major.

"Ready money?" said "Gentleman Jack" Blunt, stroking out a pair of
glossy side whiskers.

"Yes, cash in plenty on hand, and lots more in sight," imperatively
replied the Major.

"Do I work with you, or alone?" asked Blunt.

"It's a little private investigation," replied Hawke, "and as I
have to leave town to-night, and spend a couple of months on the
Continent, you are the very man. I am afraid to appear in the thing
myself, as I am well known to the other parties, and so I fear being
followed over the Channel. I'm back again in the army." Jack's eyes
grew larger in a trice.

"Here comes the grub," gayly said Blunt. "You can trust the wine
here. The crib is square, too. Now, my boy, fire away. We are alone,
and no listeners here." Before Jack Blunt had put away a pint of
best "beeswing" sherry, he was aware of all Alan Hawke's intentions.
His keen brain was working all its "cylinders."

"Give me just five minutes to think it over, Governor," said the
sparkling-eyed, dark-faced, swell cracksman. "I know Jersey like a
book. I worked the 'summer racket' there once. The excursion boats,
the farmers' races, the Casino balls, the Military games, and the
whole lay. I think I can cook up a plan. You don't show up just
yet. I am to do the 'downy cove.'"

"Not till I can double on my track, and you have piped the whole
situation off," said Hawke. "The game is a queer one. I may want to
come over later and show up and make a little society play on the
girl. I may, however, join you and help you secretly, or I may have
to stay away altogether. But I must act at once. There's money in
it. If you have to make the running yourself, you can get your own
help."

"And, you have the real stuff?" agnostically demanded Jack Blunt.

"What do you want for a starter as your pay for the report to be
sent to me at the Hotel Faucon, Lausanne, Switzerland?" Hawke was
eager and disposed to be liberal.

"Oh! A hundred sovs for the job, as you lay it out--and fifty for
my little incidentals," laughed Jack Blunt. "Of course, if it goes
on to anything serious, you'll have to put away the real 'boodle,'
where I have something to run with, if I have to cut it. I might
run up a dangerous plant!"

"Bah!" decisively said Hawke. "Only an old fool to dodge, who is
over seventy--a dotard--and a foolish girl of eighteen--a simple
boarding-school miss!"

"Yes, but she has a million, you say. There's always some one to
love a girl with that money! Love comes in by the door, and the
window, too, you know!"

"She has never been five minutes alone with a man in her life!"
cried Hawke. "You are safe--dead sure safe!" Blunt's roving black
eyes rested on Hawke's eager face as he laughed.

"And you want to marry her, to keep others from her, or run her
off at the worst, you say? That's your little game."

"I will have either the girl, or those jewels! By God! I will! I've
got money to work with, plenty of it--not here," cautiously said
Hawke, "but there's your hundred and fifty. Do you stand in?"

"To the death--if you do the handsome thing, my boy!" said the
handsome ruffian, pocketing the notes. "When do I start?"

"Take the midnight train to Southampton, and go at work at once. I
fear they may send some damned spies over there! Now, what's your
plan?" Major Hawke watched his old pal in a brown study.

Jack Blunt had smoked half his cigar, when he brought his white hand
down with a whack. "I have it! A combination of gentleman artist
and literary gent! 'The Mansion Homes of Jersey,' to illustrate a
volume for the use of tourists--London and Southwestern Railway's
enterprise. I'll sneak in and do the grand. You want a correct
sketch and map of house and grounds, and the whole lay out?" Artist
Blunt was delightfully interested in his Jersey tour now.

"Yes!" cried Alan Hawke, his eyes growing wolfish, and he leaned
over to his companion and whispered for a few moments. "That's the
trick, Governor," nodded Jack Blunt, "You work on the double event.
And--I get my money--play or pay?"

"Yes. Put up in good notes--only you are not to bungle!"

"Do you think I would fool around with a 'previous conviction'
against me? The next is a lifer, and I've got to use the knife
or a barker, if I run up against trouble, for I'll never wear the
Queen's jewelry again! I've sworn it!" The man's eyes were gleaming
now like burning coals, "I'll do the grand, and then, take off my
beard and change my garb! I look twenty years older in a stubble
chin. I can watch them from the public at Rozel Pier. I used to
do a neat little bit of cognac, silk, and cigar smuggling. I know
every crag of Corbiere Rocks, every shady joint in St. Heliers,
every nook of St. Aubin's Bay. Oh! I'm fly to the whole game!"

"Could you not get a good boat's crew there?" anxiously demanded
Major Hawke.

"Ah! My boy! I am 'king high' with a set of daring fishermen, who
can smell out every rock from Dover to Land's End; and, from Calais
to Brest, in the blackest night of the channel, if it pays."

"Then, Jack, your fortune is made, if you stand in. We'll pull
it off, in one way or the other. You've got an easy job for a man
of your ability. I'll meet you at Granville! Now, get over to St.
Heliers, and work the whole trick in your own way! Send me your
secret address in Jersey at once to Hotel Faucon, Lausanne, and run
over to the French coast at Granville and find a safe nest there
for us. There we are within seventeen miles of each other, with
two mails a day, and the telegraph. It's a wonderful plant, so it
is."

"Yes, Governor! And old Etienne Garcia, at the 'Cor d'Abondance'
in Granville, is the very slyest rogue in France. When you find a
Crapaud who is dead to rights, he is always an out and outer. I'll
square you with my old pal, Etienne, who slyly makes 'floaters'
and then gets the government cash reward for towing them in. He has
always a half dozen pretty girls hanging around there, and many a
good looking stranger has ended his 'tour' by a sudden drop through
the flow of the drinking room over the wharf where Etienne keeps
his 'boats to let.'"

"How does he do it?" mused Alan Hawke. "It's a risky game in France."

Jack Blunt laughed.

"A few puffs of smoke in a cognac glass, and the subject is knocked
out for an hour after drinking from the nicotine-filmed crystal,
bless you," laughed Blunt, "there's never a mark on Etienne's victims.
He is too fine for that, only cases of plain, simple, 'accidental
drowning.'

"You may as well address me as 'Joseph Smith, Jersey Arms, Rozel
Pier, Jersey.' I am solid with Mrs. Floyd, the landlady there,"
said the scoundrel mobsman, anxious to spend some of his cash.

"All right, then, Jack! Go ahead!" cheerfully cried Major Hawke.
"Don't overgo my instructions a single hair! I'll either join you
in the grand stroke, or else meet you at Granville and there tell
you what to do. Remember that I'll settle all your Jersey bills,
and I will send a post order for ten pounds extra to you at the
'Jersey Arms,' to give you a local standing with the postman.

"That you can spend on the underlings around the Banker's Folly,
but beware of an old body servant named Simpson--an old red-coat
who may turn up any day now from India! He was Johnstone's own man,
and he hates me, at heart, I know! Now, if you can do the 'artist
act,' you must find out where the old man keeps his stuff! I don't
know yet whether we want him first or the girl; or to crack the
whole crib! If we ever do, then, Simpson must get the--" Hawke
grimly smiled, as he drew his hand across his throat! "I must be
off!" he hastily said as he noted the time.

On his way over to Folkestone, Major Alan Hawke mused over his
great coup, as he lay at ease, wrapped up in a traveling rug, and
now resplendent in a fur-trimmed top coat, befrogged and laced,
which indicated the officer en retraite.

"I will first do up Holland, Belgium, and Denmark, and take a
little preliminary look around Paris," mused the Major, studying
a list of the missing jewels which Captain Anstruther had artfully
arranged. Sundry deductions and additions, with an admirable
disorder in the items (judiciously divided and reclassified) served
to guard against any old confidences exchanged between Ram Lal and
his secret friend Hawke. The real list in the original was now in
the private pocket-book of the Viceroy.

"Each of our Consuls at the cities you are to visit has this list,"
said Anstruther to the Major, "and you can vary your travel as you
choose, but visit all these jewel marts, and report to the local
Consuls. If they have further orders for you, you will get them
there, at first hands. Should you find that any of the jewels have
been offered for sale, simply report the facts to the local Consul,
and write under seal to me at the Junior United Service, then go
on and examine further at once! You are to take no steps whatever
to recover them, or to alarm the thieves! All your expenses and
your pay will be advanced by me!" The acute schemer decided not to
risk any suspicions by marketing his own jewels. "They might bounce
me for the murder," fearfully mused the Major. "I could show no
honest title through Ram Lal. They might arrest him, and I need him
to pay the protested drafts--later, when I go back on the Viceroy's
staff!" He smiled and wove his webs like a spider in his den.

On his arrival in Paris, from a run to the Low Countries, a week
later, Major Alan Hawke betook himself at once to No. 9 Rue Berlioz.
And there Marie Victor greeted him, handing him a letter which was
dated from Jitomir, Volhynia. "How is your mistress?" he affably
demanded.

"She is well, and will remain for several months longer in Russia!"
politely answered Marie, bowing him out.

"By God, then, she has given up the chase! I see it all!" mused
Hawke, as he pored over the letter on his way to the Hotel Binda.
"The trump card she wished to play was to blast the old fellow's
hopes of a baronetcy. Death has struck down her prey, and, she will
now wait till the girl is free! She is too sly to face old Fraser;
his brother has warned him. But she says she will need me in the
winter, on her return."

The deceived scoundrel laughed. "The coast is left clear for me
now! I'll telegraph to Joseph Smith, run on to Geneva, deposit my
own jewels there, in the agency of the Credit Lyonnais, and then
return the notifications of protest of the Bills of Exchange to
Ram Lal.

"I wonder if I can steal those jewels, get my Major's rank as a
reward from the Viceroy, and marry the girl? It would be the luck
of a life!" he dreamed.

Two days later, on the terraces of Lausanne, he laughed over Jack
Blunt's cheeky campaign.

"The 'artist dodge' worked to a charm," wrote Jack. "I used the
Kodak, and I have a dozen good views of the house, and as many more
of the grounds. My chapter on the 'Artistic Homes of Jersey,' will
be a full one! I soon jollied a couple of the London maid servants
into my confidence. By the way, send me, at once, another 'tenner'
for expense, and some money for my own regular bills. I can make
great play on the two frolicsome maids. They are up for a lark. The
shy bird keeps her rooms; and there really seems to be no young
man around. Devilish strange! A room is being got ready for the old
body servant who is now on his way from India. He might fall over
Rozel cliff some night, when half seas over! That's a natural ending
for him! Maps, sketches, and all will be ready for you at the place
we agreed. It's all lying ready to our hand, and ten minutes of a
dark night is all I want. The old chap is always mooning alone in
his study, till the midnight hours, over his books, and he has the
whole ground floor to himself. The men are in the gardener's house,
ten rods away, and all the women sleep upstairs. He sees no one
but a half crazy Yankee professor, who drops in of a morning. But,
the shy bird keeps in her cage, and lives in great state, upstairs.
More when you send the money."

On his way to say adieu to Justine, before departing to Vienna, Alan
Hawke smiled grimly. "I can strike now, when I will, and as I will!
But, first to race around a little, and then, having fulfilled my
mission, to get a couple of weeks' furlough, to go about my own
affairs. The coast is clear. Jack Blunt's plan is right. Simpson
must be first put out of the way. He would fight like a rat on
general principles."

At Rosebank Villa, Madame Alixe Delavigne was nightly busied now in
official conferences with Major Harry Hardwicke, who had lingered
in the concealment of Anstruther's home. The Captain found abundant
time to prosecute his "official business" with his lovely aid in
the secret service. And he had learned all of Alixe Delavigne's
lessons now, save to acquire the patience to wait. But a growing
album of newspaper clippings was daily augmented by Frank Hatton's
artfully disseminated items regarding "Prince Djiddin of Thibet,"
the first visitor of rank from that land of shadows. The warring
journals who wrangled over the rich young visitor's "stern retirement"
from all public intrusion referred to the political coup de main
to be looked for in "the near future." From various parts of the
United Kingdom, the mysterious princely visitor's trail was daily
telegraphed, and a hearty laugh from all three of the conspirators
of Rosebank Villa greeted the final article in the St. Heliers
Messenger, stating that a learned Moonshee or Pundit, "the only
Asiatic attendant of Prince Djiddin of Thibet" was arranging for
a brief visit of a descendant of the Dalai-Lamas.

Anstruther and Hardwicke laughed merrily at Frank Halton's last
graceful touches. "A romantic gratitude to a retired British officer,
who had once befriended the Prince's august father, was the one
impelling cause of a visit, in which the strictest retirement would
be guarded by the dweller on the Roof of the World," etc., etc. So
read out Madame Delavigne, closing with the remark that the "Moonshee
had already visited the Royal Victoria Hotel at St. Heliers
to arrange for the coming of his friend, and to the regret of the
authorities, the Prince would decline all the hospitality due to
his exalted rank."

"Captain Murray must be even now at work," anxiously said the fair
reader.

"We will hear at once," said Anstruther. "Prince Djiddin, you must
now materialize! For Murray's letter tells me that he is already
in full communication with Jules Victor at the Hotel Bellevue. So
the 'Moonshee' has one faithful friend near at hand. If there is
any shadowing of either of you, Jules Victor is an invincible avant
garde. He knows the faces of all the dramatis persona. You see,
Douglas Fraser is gone to India and old Andrew has never seen any
of our 'star actors.' We are absolutely safe!"

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