The Spring of the Tiger

by Victoria Holt

  Those pearls are becoming an obsession, I warned myself.

  It was unwise really to keep the pearls so easily accessible. We should have put them in a safe. That would, of course, call attention to their value and it must not be known what they actually were for Cl'iie's sake.

  I took my breakfast in bed, which was easier since I had broken my ankle, and when I had eaten I thought again of the dream. I got out of bed and with the aid of my stick went to the dressing table. I took out the case and opened it. I stared in horror. It was empty.

  I could not believe it. This was part of my dream. It had not been a dream then. Someone had come in and taken the pearls and left the case behind.

  I was dumfounded. I did not know what to do.

  I pulled the bell rope and Leila appeared. I did not want to tell her what had happened. I said: "Go to Miss Hansen and tell her I must see her at once."

  In a few minutes Celia was there.

  I said: "That will do, thank you, Leila." And she went out somewhat reluctantly. I wondered if she was listening at the door.

  "What on earth has happened?" asked Ceha.

  "The pearls. . . they're missing."

  "They can't be!"

  "They are. I've just opened the case. They're not there."

  Ceha looked at me disbelievingly. She went to the drawer, opened the case and stared down at the midnight-blue velvet.

  "Where . . . ?" she stammered. "What. . . ?"

  "Someone came in last night and stole them."

  "You saw someone?"

  "Well ... it was like a dream. I was half asleep. I thought someone came in. Then I thought I'd dreamed it. I have dreamed a lot lately. I dream about the pearls. Celia, what shall I do? I'd better give the alarm."

  "Wait a minute," she said. "Let's think what would be best. We've got to be calm about this, Sarah."

  "Those pearls, Ceha . . . they're priceless."

  She was thoughtful. She looked at me intently: "Who would have come in last night?" she asked.

  "I don't know."

  'Whoever it was couldn't have done so undetected. The servants would have noticed if the house had been broken into. It must have been someone who could have come in with a key."

  Xlinton?" I whispered.

  ''Did he come in?"

  "I did not see him. I had this dream ... a sort of half dream."

  *Tou have had a lot of dreams lately." She frowned. "You won't be upset by what I'm going to say, Sarah. . . ."

  "No, say it."

  "You were acting a little oddly. . . some time ago."

  "I can explain all that. It was someone playing tricks on me. I proved it."

  She was silent for a while, biting her lips thoughtfully. "Look," she said at length, "you have been in an uneasy state. You have recently had a bad accident, which might have proved fatal. You have been dreaming about these pearls."

  "Yes, I know, but. . ."

  "People were beginning to notice, Sarah."

  "People?"

  "Leila for instance. The servants. You seemed so nervous, so on edge."

  "I know. Someone was trying to prove I was mad. I learned that."

  "Listen. I may be wrong, but I want to protect you. Do you understand? I hated it when people imphed those things about you. I didn't believe it for one moment. I knew there must be some explanation. I don't like Leila's connection with that woman. I don't like it at all, Sarah. We've got to stand against them."

  "What are you trying to say, Celia?"

  "I'm saying this. You have been on edge. That wickedness of unnerving you . . . then the accident. You see what I mean. You have these dreams. I have an idea that you may have walked in your sleep."

  "Walked! But I can't walk."

  "You can get around the room with your stick. I know I'm

  probably wrong, but, Sarah, do let's be sure first. Don't let's give them another chance to say what they have been saying."

  "What do you propose?"

  "That we search this room thoroughly. I think it possible that you had this dream about someone taking the pearls. It might have been yourself . . . walking in your sleep. You may have taken them from the case and put them somewhere."

  "No, Ceha. Nol"

  "I know it sounds ridiculous but do bear with me. I am thinking of you. Please do give it a try. Before you let anyone know that the pearls are missing let me search this room. Now sit in your chair. I will search every corner of this room, every possible hiding place. Please, Sarah?"

  "Oh, Celia, I am so glad you are here. What shall I do when you have gone?"

  "You have been good to me. Now do sit down."

  "I'll help to search."

  "No, it's bad for your ankle to move about too much. Leave it to me."

  She went around the room, opening drawers, looking under the bed, opening the cupboard and rummaging through my clothes.

  She stood in the center of the room looking blank and frustrated.

  "It's no use, Ceha," I said. "Someone has taken them."

  "Is there anywhere I haven't looked?" she asked, wrinkling her brows.

  Then suddenly she went to the bed and lifted my pillow. With a cry of triumph she held up the pearls.

  I could not beHeve it. "So it must have been I who took them!"

  "They're on your mind. I think you should speak to Clinton about putting them in a safe place. Never mind now. Don't brood on it. It's the sort of thing anyone might do."

  "Put them in the case, Celia. I don't want to look at them."

  She did so, snapped it shut and put it in the drawer.

  "You ought at least to have a Httle key to lock the drawer," she said.

  "I'll see if I can get one."

  She kissed me lightly on the brow. "I'll be back later," she said.

  Celia spent the morning with me and we talked of anything but our coming parting, which made me very despondent. Her baggage had already gone on ahead of her. It would be awaiting the arrival of the Lankarta from Bombay, which was to return there that evening.

  Clinton came in during the morning. He said he had been held up by trouble on the plantation and had stayed working late in the ofEces, and as he had known he would not be finished by well past midnight he had decided to stay in a room he kept there for the purpose of accommodating him or one of the managers on such occasions.

  "It's uncomfortable," he said. "I cut myself shaving this morning. They have put the mirror in the wrong place and it was quite dark."

  He indicated quite a deep gash at the side of his mouth.

  "Bled like a pig," he added.

  "Not painful, I hope."

  He shook his head. "But it will take a day or two to heal. I missed you, Sarah. I'll be with you tonight. We'll make it a special occasion, shall we? We shall be alone. What time does Celia leave?"

  "The train leaves Manganiya soon after six for Colombo. The carriage is taking her in."

  "Then I'd better say my farewells now in case I don't get back in time."

  He seemed in good spirits and I did not think he had spent the night with Anula.

  Celia took lunch with me in my room. Our last meal together.

  While we were eating I dropped my fork and Celia came over to pick it up for me. As she rose, she said: "What have you done to your neck? It looks as if you've scratched it."

  I put my hand up. "I don't feel anything."

  "It's very slight. I wonder . . . You must have been lying on those pearls. There's quite a sharp edge on the clasp, I noticed."

  "Perhaps it caught me then," I said.

  "I'll put some iodine on it later. Remind me."

  "Oh, that's not necessary."

  "Perhaps not. Still, it's different here from at home. I scratched myself and some venomous insect scenting blood settled on it. It festered and was quite horrible for a time. I'll go and get it in a moment. Just to be on the safe side."

  We talked and I forgot all about the scratch. I thought she had too, but she came back with a
small bottle of iodine.

  "It may sting a bit," she said. "Be prepared."

  She came behind and I certainly felt it. She dabbed the spot with a piece of cotton wool which she had thoughtfully brought with her.

  "There," she said. "That should heal nicely now. It's hardly noticeable, but you can't be too careful in a place like this."

  She screwed on the bottle cap and slipped it into the pocket of her skirt.

  During the day I felt a few twinges from the scratch but thought nothing of it and forgot all about it.

  It was a long afternoon, very hot. The rains would soon be with us and we were expecting them any day now. The shrubs needed it and so did we. It would cool the air and rid us of many of the insects which pestered us more at this time of the year than at any other.

  I was growing more and more depressed at the thought of Celia's departure. How lonely I was going to feel without her!

  It was five o'clock when she came in, dressed for traveling and looking very sad.

  "I hate leaving you," she said. "When is Clinton coming home?"

  "Any time now. But he rather thought you would be gone before he could get back."

  "I know. He's said good-bye. Oh, Sarah, I do wish I were staying a little longer . . . until you were able to get about more easily. Well, I see you're dressed ready for Clinton."

  I was wearing my Bokhara blue silk gown for I had dressed early knowing she would come to say good-bye and I wanted to give all my attention to her.

  "How's the neck?" she asked.

  "All right, thanks. I'd forgotten about it."

  She came around to the back of me, lifted up my hair and looked at the spot.

  "I think you'll survive/' she said lightly and added: ''May I have a last look at the pearls? You should wear them with that dress. Come on. I'll do up the clasp for you, shall I?"

  I laughed at her. "I believe you enjoy handling those pearls."

  "Who wouldn't?"

  She took them carefully out of the case and put them about my neck.

  I was seated before the mirror and I looked from the pearls to her. She was gazing at them almost as though she were looking at a lover.

  "How lucky to have a husband who bestows such giftsl" she said.

  I did not answer.

  Then her deft fingers were fastening the clasp and I gave a little start because she had touched the wounded spot.

  "It's that place," she said. "Wait a minute. I'm going to move the clasp slightly so that it doesn't rest on it. It's nothing much but you don't want to irritate it."

  "Is it bleeding?" I asked.

  "No . . . not really. Just a smear. There. You can't feel anything now, can you?"

  I shook my head.

  "They look magnificent." She kissed me solemnly on the forehead. "That's how I want to remember you, wearing those pearls. They look so beautiful on your neck, Sarah." She paused, Usten-ing. "I beheve I hear the carriage at the door. I'd better go."

  "Have you got everything?"

  "There's very little hand luggage. The rest, as you know, has gone on ahead. They'll be loaded on board by now. Au revoir, Sarah, and I shall never forget what you have done for me."

  I felt very sad. I had relied on her so much. I kept wondering what the house would be like without her.

  She went swiftly to the door and stood there for a moment looking at me. There were tears in her eyes.

  Then she was gone.

  I lay back in my chair listening to the sound of carriage wheels.

  Suddenly extraordinary things began to happen to me. I must have sat in my chair for some ten minutes before I was aware of

  the change which was creeping over me. The pearls lay heavily about my neck. I felt as though they were creeping closer and closer, tighter and tighter. They were suffocating me. That was not all. The room was becoming hazy.

  Something very strange was happening.

  I tried to stand up. The room swayed. I gripped the chair and hung onto it tightly.

  And at that moment Clinton came in.

  "Sarah!" he cried and it sounded as though he were whispering. "What's happened? Sarah . . . Sarah!"

  He came forward and caught me as I was about to fall. I heard myself say: "The pearls. . . they're stranghng me."

  I was in the chair and he was bending over me.

  "Oh my God," he cried. "Oh my God no!"

  The pearls were lying in my lap. He was at the door. I heard his voice: "Quick . . . quick ... go for the doctor. At once. Do you hear me? Stop for nothing."

  Then he was back with me. He had the pot in which I kept my hairpins in his hand and his lips were on my neck. I was too weak and weary to know what he was doing. I fainted.

  When I came round I heard voices. I saw Clinton. He was lying on the floor. He looks so big, I thought irrelevantly. He is bigger than even I thought him. His face was white and he looked strange, unlike himself.

  I heard the voice of the doctor. "Get Mrs. Shaw to bed at once."

  Then they were carrying me to bed and I was still only half conscious.

  This is another nightmare, I remember thinking. I shall wake up presently.

  Someone was sitting by my bed. It was Clytie. She was holding my hand.

  "Sarah," she murmured when she saw my eyes were open. "It's going to be all right, Sarah. The doctor came in time."

  I opened my eyes wide. It was as though a hammer were beating above them.

  "I don't understand what happened."

  "Never mind. Go to sleep now."

  "I want to know . . ." My voice trailed off and I must have dropped off to sleep at once. I was in a strange world. I was at the bottom of the sea and the shark charmer was singing his mournful dirge. There were pearls all over the sea bed. They advanced on me; they covered me and held me fast.

  I struggled.

  I heard Clytie's voice from a long way off. "It's all right. It's all right."

  She was beside my bed throughout the nighi' I believed. It was dawn when I opened my eyes.

  "Clytie," I said, "are you still there?"

  "Yes, Sarah. I'm still here."

  "Where am I. . . and what happened?"

  "You're in your bed. You're all right now."

  "What was it all about?"

  "You were poisoned. You had a scratch on your neck and the venom entered your body from the clasp of the necklace."

  "The necklacel" I said.

  "That cursed necklace," replied Clytie.

  "Poison . . . after all those years."

  "Not after all those years."

  "Who tried to poison me?"

  "We don't know."

  "Clinton..." I murmured.

  "Clinton is in another room. If he hadn't come in when he did . . ."

  "What has Clinton to do with this?"

  "He has saved your life, the doctor says. He knew the poison. He smelled it and he knew the effect it had. He sucked it out of your wound, Sarah. He couldn't wait for the doctor to come. It would have been too late if he had. It would have entered your blood stream by then. It's a deadly poison . . . deadly as the cobra's venom."

  "Clinton . . . Clinton saved me. . . and I thought. . ."

  "Now you must try to sleep again. Sheba's here and so is Ralph. I came over with them as soon as I heard. We'll all be staying here for a while. We're going to look after you . . . and CHnton."

  I did not understand entirely and I was too tired to try to work it out. I fell almost immediately into a deep sleep and when I awoke I felt refreshed and ready to eat a little. I was given a little broth and I asked for Clytie.

  "Tell me exactly what happened," I said when she came.

  "There was poison in the receptacle in the serpent's mouth on the clasp. Because there was a wound in your neck it could enter your blood stream."

  "Who put the poison there?"

  "We don't know. But thank God Clinton came in when he did. He knows a great deal about poisons, even Eastern ones, and he recognized the peculi
ar odor and he also knew what was wrong with you and that he had to act promptly. He followed the primitive custom which is used a lot in the jungle here—sucking out the poison and spitting it out. This is what he did effectively and saved your life."

  Clinton . . . saved my life! And I had thought at one time he wanted to be rid of me, that he and Anula had planned together. Anula, I thought. She had put the poison in the necklace. Leila would have helped her.

  "There's something else, Sarah," went on Clytie. "Clinton is very ill. . . very ill indeed."

  "What are you trying to tell me?"

  "There was an open wound on his face. He had cut himself. In sucking the poison out some of it entered his body and mingled with his blood."

  "So he has made himself ill in saving me!"

  "Yes. There's always a great danger in sucking poison from a wound. It means risking one's life. Only the brave would do it."

  I said: "I must go to him."

  "Not yet. He is unconscious. The doctor is with him. We have sent for another doctor too."

  "He is very ill then, is he?"

  "He is also very strong."

  "Clinton!" I said, and I repeated his name. It was so difficult to believe. Clinton sacrificing himself for me! Chnton dangerously ill because of it. . . .

  "There is something else," said Clytie. "A friend of yours ar-

  rived from India to see you. He came in on the Lankarta from Bombay last night. He called during the morning but I said you were too ill to see him. He wouldn't go away. He said he would wait. He was so insistent, so anxious about you; he said he had something of the utmost importance to say to you. We told him that there had been an accident and that made him all the more insistent."

  "Did he give a name?"

  "Yes. Tobias Mander."

  "Tobyl" I cried. "Oh, I must see him. I must see him at once."

  It was good to see him. He looked different, older, tanned by the sun, but still the same Toby with the kindliness and the humor in his eyes.

  "Sarah 1" he cried.

  He came to me and took my hands. He leaned toward me and I threw my arms about his neck.

  "Oh Toby," I cried. "I've been so frightened. You didn't answer my letters."

  He took my hands and looked into my eyes. "Sarah," he said, ''this is terrible. As soon as I knew everything I sailed for Ceylon. You've been in danger . . . terrible danger. What did you think of what I told you in my letter?"