Part 5

Heideck turned modestly away.

“I did absolutely nothing to give me any claim to your gratitude, Mrs. Irwin, and I do not really believe that your husband would have so far forgot himself as to commit such a silly and desperate deed. At the last moment, a thought of you would certainly have restrained him from taking such a step.”

He was surprised at the expression of disdain which the face of the young wife assumed as he said this, and at the hard ring in her voice, when she replied--

“Thoughts of me? No! how little you know my husband. He is not wont to make the smallest sacrifice for me, and, maybe, his voluntary death would not, after all, be the worst misery he is capable of inflicting on me.”

She saw the look of utter surprise in his eyes, and therefore quickly added--

“You will, I know, consider me the most heartless woman in the world because I can talk to a stranger like this; but is not in your country loss of honour regarded as worse than death?”

“Under certain circumstances--yes; but your husband’s position is not, I hope, to be viewed in this tragic light. Judging from the impression that Captain McGregor’s personality has made upon me, I should say that he is not the man to drive Mr. Irwin to take an extreme course on account of a recklessly incurred debt at cards.”

“Oh no! you judge of that honourable man quite correctly. He would be best pleased to forego the whole amount, and with the intention of bringing about such an arrangement he called here this afternoon. But the foolish pride and unbounded vanity of Irwin brought all his good intentions to naught. The result of McGregor’s well-meant endeavours was only a violent scene, which made matters a thousand times worse. My husband is determined to pay his debt at any price.”

“And--pardon me the indiscreet question--is he capable of doing so?”

“If he uses my fortune for the purpose--certainly! and I have at once placed it at his disposal; and I further told him that he could take everything, even the last penny, if this sacrifice on my part would suffice to get rid of him for ever.”

Heideck could scarcely believe his ears. He was prepared for anything on earth except to hear such confessions. He began to doubt this woman, who hitherto had seemed to him to be the paragon of all feminine virtues, and he sought an opportunity of escaping from further confessions of the kind, which, as he told himself, she would repent of in the course of an hour or so.

“Nobody can expect of you, Mrs. Irwin, that for a criminal recklessness, a hasty action on the part of your husband, who was probably deep in his cups, you should make such a tremendous sacrifice; but, as you have now done me the honour to consult me on these matters, it is perhaps not unbecoming on my part if I tell you that your husband should, in my opinion, be forced to bear the consequences of his action. You need not be at all apprehensive that these consequences will be very serious. McGregor will certainly not press him; and as we seem to be on the threshold of a war, his superior officers are not likely to be too severe upon him in this matter. He will, perhaps, either find an opportunity to rehabilitate his compromised honour or will find his death on the battlefield. Within a few weeks, or months, all these matters which at present cause you so much trouble will present quite a different aspect.”

“You are very kind, Mr. Heideck, and I thank you for your friendly intentions; but I would not have invited you here at this unusual hour had it been solely my intention to enlist your kind sympathy. I am in a most deplorable plight--doubly so, because there is no one here to whom I can turn for advice and assistance. That in my despair I thought of you has, no doubt, greatly surprised you; and now I can myself hardly understand how I could have presumed to trouble you with my worries.”

“If you would only, Mrs. Irwin, show me how I can be of service to you, I would pray you to make any use you will of me. I am absolutely and entirely at your disposal, and your confidence would make me exceedingly happy.”

“As a gentleman, you could not, of course, give any other answer. But, in your heart of hearts, you probably consider my conduct both unwomanly and unbecoming, for it is true that we hardly know each other. Over in England, and certainly in your German fatherland quite as well, such casual meetings as ours have been could not possibly give me the right to treat you as a friend, and I do not really know how far you are influenced by these European considerations.”

“In Germany, as in England, every defenceless and unhappy woman would have an immediate claim upon my assistance,” he seriously replied. “If you give me the preference over your friends here, I, on my part, have only to be grateful, and need not inquire further into your motives.”

“But, of course, I will tell you what my motives are. My friends in this place are naturally my husband’s comrades, and I cannot turn to them if I do not intend to sign Irwin’s death warrant. Not a single man amongst them would allow that a man of my husband’s stamp should remain an hour longer a member of the corps of officers in the British Army.”

“I do not quite understand you, Mrs. Irwin. The gambling debt of your husband is, after all, no longer a secret to his comrades.”

“That is not the point. How do you judge of a man who would sell his wife to pay his gambling debts?”

This last sentence struck Heideck like a blow. With dilated eyes he stared at the young wife who had launched such a terrible indictment against her husband. Never had she looked to him so charming as in this moment, when a sensation of womanly shame had suffused her pale cheeks with a crimson blush. Never had he felt with such clearness what a precious treasure this charming creature would be to a man to whom she gave herself in love for his very own; and the less he doubted that she had just spoken the simple truth, the more did his heart rise in passionate wrath at the miserable reptile who was abandoned enough to drag this precious pearl in the mire.

“I do not presume to connect your question with Captain Irwin,” said Heideck, in a perceptibly tremulous voice, “for if he were really capable of doing so--”

Edith interrupted him, pointing to a small case that lay on the little table beside her.

“Would you kindly just look at this ring, Mr. Heideck?”

He did as he was asked, and thought he recognised the beautiful diamond ring that he had yesterday seen sparkling on Irwin’s finger. He asked whether it was so, and the young wife nodded assent.

“I gave it to my husband on our wedding-day. The ring is an heirloom in my family. Jewellers value it at more than a thousand pounds.”

“And why, may I ask, does your husband no longer wear it?”

“Because he intends to sell it. Of course, the Maharajah is the only person who can afford the luxury of such articles, and my husband wishes me to conclude the bargain with the Prince.”

“You, Mrs. Irwin? And why, pray, does he not do it himself?”

“Because the Maharajah will not pay him the price he demands. My husband will not let the ring go under two lakhs.”

“But that is a tremendous sum! That would be paying for it twelve times over!”

“My husband is, all the same, certain that the bargain would come off quite easily, provided I personally negotiated it.”

It was impossible to misunderstand the meaning of these words, and so great was the indignation they awoke in Heideck, that he sprang up in a bound from his chair.

“No! that is impossible--it cannot be! He cannot possibly have suggested that! You must have misunderstood him. No man, no officer, no gentleman, could ever be guilty of such a low, mean action!”

“You would be less surprised if you had had the opportunity to know him, as I have had, during the short time of our wedded life. There is practically no act or deed of his that would surprise me now. He has long since ceased to love me; and a wife, whose person has become indifferent to him, has, in his eyes, only a marketable value. It may be that some excuse can even be found for his way of regarding things. It is, possibly, an atavistic relapse into the views of his ancestors, who, when they were sick of their wives, led them with a halter round their necks into the marketplace and sold them to the highest bidder. They say it is not so long ago that this pretty custom has gone out of vogue.”

“No more, Mrs. Irwin,” Heideck broke in; “I cannot bear to hear you speak like that. I must say that I still consider the Captain to have been out of his mind when he dared to expect such a thing of you.”

The young wife shook her head with a severe quiver of the lips. “Oh no! he was neither intoxicated nor especially excited when he asked me to do him this ‘LITTLE’ kindness; he probably considered that I ought to feel myself intensely flattered that His Indian Highness thought my insignificant person worth such a large price. I have certainly for some time past been quite conscious of the fact that, quite unwittingly, I have attracted the notice of the Maharajah. Immediately after our first meeting he began to annoy me with his attentions. I never took any notice, and never, for one moment, dreamt of the possibility that his--his--what shall I call it--his admiration could rise to criminal desires; but, after what I have experienced to-day, I cannot help believing that it is the case.”

“But this monstrosity, Mrs. Irwin, will be past and gone as soon as you indignantly repudiate the suggestion of your abandoned husband?”

“Between him and me--yes, that is true. But I am not at all certain if the Maharajah’s infatuation will then have really ceased to exist. My Indian handmaid has been told by one of her countrymen to warn me of a danger that threatens me. The man did not tell her wherein this danger consists, but I am at a loss to know from what quarter it should threaten, if not from the Maharajah.”

Heideck shook his head incredulously.

“You have certainly nothing to fear in that quarter; he knows full well that he would have the whole of the British power against him dared he only--be it with one word--attempt to wrong the wife of an English officer. He would be a sheer madman to allow things to come to that pass.”

“Well, after all, he may have some despotic insanity in him. We must not forget that the time is not so far distant when all these tyrants disposed absolutely of the life and death and body and soul of their subjects. Who knows, too, what my husband--But perhaps you are right. It may only be a foolish suspicion that has upset me; and it is just for this reason that I did not wish to speak about it to any of my husband’s messmates. I have opened my heart to you alone. I know that you are an honourable man, and that nobody will learn from your mouth what we have spoken about during this past hour.”

“I am very much indebted to you, Mrs. Irwin, for your confidence, and should be only too willing to do what I could to relieve your anxiety and trouble. You are apprehensive of some unknown danger, and you are this night, in your husband’s absence, without any other protection but that of your Indian servants. Would you permit me to remain close by, until tomorrow daybreak?”

With a blush that made her heart beat faster, Edith Irwin shook her head.

“No! no! that is impossible; and I do not think that here, in the protection of my house and among my own servants, any mishap could befall me. Only in case that something should happen to me at another time and at another place, I would beg of you to acquaint Colonel Baird with the subject of our conversation this evening; people will then perhaps better understand the connexion of things.”

And now Heideck perfectly understood why she had chosen to make him, a stranger, her confidant; and he thought that he understood also that it was not so much of an attempt on the part of the Maharajah as of her own husband’s villainy that the unhappy young wife was afraid. But his delicate feelings restrained him from saying in outspoken language that he had comprehended what she wished to convey. It was after all enough that she knew she could rely upon him; and of this she must have been already sufficiently convinced, although it was only the fire of his eyes that told her so, and the long, warm kiss that his lips impressed upon the small, icy-cold hand which the poor young lady presented to him at parting.

“You will permit me to pay you another call tomorrow, will you not?”

“I will send you word when I expect you. I should not care for you to meet my husband; perhaps he has some idea that you are friendly inclined towards me; and that would be sufficient to fill him with suspicion and aversion towards you.”

She clapped her hands, and as the Indian handmaid entered the room to escort the visitor to the door, Heideck had to leave her last remark unanswered. But, as on the threshold he again turned to bow his farewell, his eyes met hers, and though their lips were dumb, they had perhaps told one another more in this single second than during the whole time of their long tete-a-tete.

VI

THE OUTRAGE

When Heideck stepped into the garden he was scarcely able to find his way, but having taken a few steps his eyes had become accustomed to the gloom, and the pale light of the stars showed him his path.

The garden was surrounded by an impenetrable hedge of cactus plants, low enough to allow a tall man to look over. On having closed the wooden gate behind him, Heideck stood and gazed back at the brightly illuminated windows of the house. In the presence of the charming woman he had manfully suppressed his feelings. No rash word, betraying the tempest that this nocturnal conversation had left surging in his bosom, had escaped his lips. He had not for a moment forgotten that she was the wife of another, and it would be an infamy to covet her for his wife so long as she was tied to that other. But he could not disguise from himself the fact that he yearned towards her with a passionate love. He was to-day, for the first time, conscious that he loved this woman with a passion that he had never before felt for another; but there was nothing intoxicating or pleasurable in this self-confession. It was rather a feeling of apprehension of coming difficulties and struggles that would beset him in his passion for this charming creature. Had she not needed his protection, and had he not promised to remain on the spot to assist her, he would have escaped in rapid flight from this struggle within him. Yet, under the existing circumstances, there could be no question of his doing this. He had only himself to blame for having given her the right to count upon his friendship; and it was a behest of chivalry to deserve her confidence. Incapable of tearing himself from the place, where he knew his loved one remained, Heideck must have stayed a quarter of an hour rooted to the spot, and just when he had resolved--on becoming conscious of the folly of his behaviour--on turning homewards, he perceived something unusual enough to cause him to stay his steps.

He saw the house-door, which the Indian maid had a short time before closed behind him, open, and in the flood of light which streamed out into the darkness, perceived that several men dressed in white garments hurried, closely following each other, up the steps.

Remembering Mrs. Irwin’s enigmatical references to a danger which possibly threatened her, and seized by a horrible dread of something about to happen, he pushed open the garden gate and rushed towards the house.

He had not yet reached it, when the shrill cry of a woman in distress fell upon his ear. Heideck drew the revolver he always carried from his pocket and sprang up the steps at a bound. The door of the drawing-room, where he had shortly before been in conversation with the Captain’s wife, was wide open, and from it rang the cries for help, whose desperate tones brought home to the Captain the certainty that Edith Irwin was in the gravest peril. Only a few steps, and he saw the young English lady defending herself heroically against three white-dressed natives, who were evidently about to carry her off. Her light silk dress was torn to shreds in this unequal struggle, and so great was Heideck’s indignation at the monstrous brutality of the assailants that he did not for a moment hesitate to turn his weapon upon the tall, wild-looking fellow, whose brown hands were roughly clutching the bare arms of the young lady.

He fired, and with a short, dull cry of pain the fellow reeled to the ground. The other two, horror-stricken, let go their victim. One of them drew his sabre from the sheath and rushed upon the German. Heideck could not fire a second time, being afraid of harming Edith, and so he threw the revolver down, and with a rapid motion, for which his adversary was fully unprepared, caught the arm of the Indian which was raised to strike. Being much more than his match in physical strength, he wrested the sabre with a quick jerk from his grasp. The man, now defenceless, gave up the struggle and like his companion, who had already in silent, cat-like bounds made his escape, hurried off as fast as his legs would carry him.

Heideck did not pursue him. His only thoughts were for Edith, and his fears were that she had perhaps received some hurt at the hands of these bandits. In the same moment that the violent hands of the Indians had let her loose, she had fallen down on the carpet, and her marble-pale face looked to Heideck as that of a dead person. Whilst, curiously enough, neither Edith’s screams for help nor the crack of the shot had had the effect of summoning any one of her servants to her aid, now, when the danger was over, all of a sudden a few scared brown faces peered in through the open door; and the peremptory order that Heideck addressed in English to the terrified maid brought her back to her sense of duty to her mistress.

With her assistance, Heideck carried the fainting woman to a couch, and perceiving one of the little green flasks of lavender water, which are never wanting in an English house, on the table, he employed the strong perfume as well as he was able, whilst the Indian maid rubbed the soles of her young mistress’ feet, and adopted divers other methods, well known among the natives, of resuscitating her.

Under their joint attentions, Edith soon opened her eyes, and gazed with bewildered looks around her. But on seeing lying on the floor the corpse of the Indian whom Heideck had shot, her consciousness returned with perfect clearness.

Shaking off the last traces of faintness with a firm will, she got up.

“It was you who saved me, Mr. Heideck! You risked your life for me! How can I thank you enough?”

“Solely, madam, by allowing me to conduct you at once to the Colonel’s house, whose protection you must necessarily claim until your husband’s return. Whoever may have been the instigator of this hellish plot--whether these rogues were common thieves or whether they acted on orders, I do not feel myself strong enough, single-handed, to accept the responsibility for your security.”

“You are right,” Edith replied gently. “I will get ready at once and go with you--but this man here,” she added, shivering, “is he dead, or can something be done for him?”

Heideck stooped down and regarded the motionless figure. A single look into the sallow, drawn face, with the dilated, glassy eyes, sufficed to assure him that any further examination was useless.

“He has got his reward,” he said, “and he has no further claim upon your generous compassion; but is there no one to help me get the body away?”

“They are all out,” said the maid; “the butler invited them to spend a jolly evening with him in the town.”

Edith and Heideck exchanged a significant look; neither of them now doubted in the least that the audacious attack had been the result of a plot to which the Indian servants were parties, and each guessed that the other entertained the same suspicion as to who was the instigator of the shameful outrage.

But they did not utter a syllable about it. It was just because they had been brought as near to each other by the events of this night as fate can possibly bring two young beings of different sex, that each felt almost instinctively the fear of that first word which probably would have broken down the last barrier between them. And Captain Irwin’s name was not mentioned by either.

VII

THE MAHARAJAH

It was noon the next day when Captain Irwin stepped out of the Colonel’s bungalow and turned towards home. The interview with his superior officer appeared to have been serious and far from pleasant for him, for he was very pale. Red spots were burning on his cheeks, and his deep-set eyes flashed darkly, as though with suppressed wrath. A few minutes later the Colonel’s horse was led to the door, and a company of lancers under the command of a sergeant rode into the courtyard.

The commander came out in full uniform, and, placing himself at the head of the company, galloped towards the Maharajah’s palace.

The cavalry drew up before the palace gates, and Colonel Baird shouted out in a loud commanding voice to the servants lounging at the door that he wished to speak to the Maharajah.

A few minutes passed, and a gorgeously attired palace official made his appearance with the answer that His Highness could not receive at present; the Colonel would be informed as soon as the audience could be granted.

The commander leapt from the saddle, and with jingling spurs walked firmly into the palace, trailing his sword noisily over the marble floor.