The Cardinal Moth

by Fred M. White

  *CHAPTER XVI.*

  *DIPLOMACY.*

  As the Shan stood there watching the graceful, unconscious form of Mrs.Benstein, a great rage seized him. In one moment his thin veneer ofWestern civilisation had vanished. He was Baserk, savage, hard andcruel, from his glittering eyes and long fingers that crooked as if onthe woman's throat. He swayed against Denvers with the passion thatthrilled him.

  "Close in on her," he hissed. "Drag the jewel away. If you stealbehind her and hold her by the throat----" He could say no more for thepresent. There was safety and freedom close to his hand, and only afrail woman between himself and his desires.

  "Oh, rubbish!" Harold said coolly. "My good sir, you will kindly forgetthat you are the Shan of Koordstan for a moment, and recollect that youare a guest here. I can give a pretty shrewd guess how the stone camehere--indeed, I should have been disappointed had I not seen it.Benstein is old and feeble, and he dotes on his wife. But there is abetter way than yours. Can I trust you?"

  The Shan nodded. He was recovering himself slowly.

  "Then stay here, but do not be seen. Miss Lyne will be back presently,and she is on our side. Ah, here she comes. I have a few words to sayto her."

  Angela came up at the same moment, her eyes shining blue interrogationpoints. Harold drew her aside a little way and rapidly whispered a fewwords in her ear.

  "Questions presently," he smiled. "We have only time for action now.Ask Mrs. Benstein to remain where she is, and say you will be back in amoment. Meanwhile, I must get you to present me to Lord Rashburn, theForeign Secretary. Can you manage this?"

  Angela was under the impression that she could manage this quite well.Rashburn was a close connection of Lady Frobisher, and a great admirerof her own; indeed, the handsome, courtly Foreign Secretary was anavowed admirer of the sex generally. It was some little time beforeAngela contrived to get possession of the great man and it required allher fascination to induce him to listen to the handsome young man whorepresented the Shan's suite.

  "I'll give him five minutes," he said. "Where is the intelligent youngforeigner?"

  Harold came up at a sign from Angela. Lord Rashburn was courtly asusual, but bored. He particularly disliked intelligent youngforeigners. He hoped that Aben Abdullah knew some English.

  "I am English, my lord," Harold said coolly. "I assure you that I shallnot bore you; indeed, I propose to interest you extremely. I heard yourlordship in a recent speech observe that you derived a lot of good fromreading healthy fiction; indeed, you went on to say that, under alteredcircumstances, you would have been an author yourself. I should like todiscuss a little plot with you."

  Rashburn was unaffectedly interested. Mystery and intrigue of any kindappealed to him; he was fond of building up stories from conventionalsurroundings. And there was some mystery here.

  "Go on," he said, courteously. "I feel I shall be interested. In thefirst place, is the plot a--er--murder one?"

  "Eventually, my lord. We will begin here in this very room, describingthe house and the occasion, not forgetting the host. Our host, my lord,should make a fascinating study of a character given to--shall wesay--to diplomatic methods?"

  "Why not stretch a point and make him an unscrupulous rascal?" LordRashburn said dryly.

  "That is a most excellent suggestion, my lord. We will go on to say thathe has designs against my master; that he desires certain concessionsthat my master has promised elsewhere, say to a young Englishman whoknows the past, and who, under an assumed name, is part of his suite.Sir Clement has a hold on my master, and I want to save him. In virtueof his office my master has in his possession a precious jewelcalled--called anything you like."

  "The Blue Stone of Ghan!" Rashburn cried incautiously. "I know allabout that."

  "Let us call it a magic diamond," Harold smiled. "We must not be toorealistic. After all said and done, this is no more than the plot of astory."

  "To be sure," Rashburn said hastily. "I had forgotten that. Pray goon."

  "My master is extravagant, which is a mild way of putting it. At therisk of losing everything, his head included, he raises money onthe--er, diamond, pledges it, in fact, with a miserly old moneylender,who has a wife that he fairly dotes on. My master's enemies, includingSir Clement, and another called Count Lefroy, find this out. They cookup some story to the effect that the sacred--er, diamond is wanted toseal certain State papers. There, for the present, we must leave mymaster in the dilemma into which he has got himself and go forward,merely premising that he has promised to produce the stone and sealthose documents to-morrow morning."

  "One of the most ingenious plots I have heard of for a long while,"Rashburn murmured.

  "I flatter myself that the best part is to come," Harold proceeded. "Mysuggestion is that the moneylender should be seen and asked to let ushave the stone for an hour or two, and add two thousand pounds to hischarges. We called for that purpose, and the old man thinks we want thegem back. He is in such a state of pitiable terror when we call, thatinstantly I know that he has parted with the stone. From what he saysits recovery is only a question of a few hours. He says something aboutthe stone and the Bank of England, but that is all nonsense. I guesswhat he has done. He has lent the stone to somebody, and I also have ashrewd guess who that somebody is. Then I suggest that we come here."

  "Capital!" Rashburn cried. "You are interesting me exceedingly. Goon."

  "We come here. And here we find that a great sensation has been createdby a lady who is dubbed the lady of the ru--I mean the queen of thediamonds. She is the wife of the great financier my master and I havebeen so recently interviewing. Remember he is old and senile, and doteson her. It is inevitable that he has lent her the great diamond as akind of glorious finish to her toilette."

  "In fact, we may assume that you have seen it blazing on her--shall wesay forehead?" Rashburn asked.

  "You have guessed it exactly, my lord," Harold went on. "Here, then, isa beautiful complication--my master has to get the gem back, andincidentally is ready to commit murder to do so; here is the host whomay come along at any time, and recognise the gem. That is as far as Ihave developed the story as yet, but I might at this point bring inyourself and your Government and make an international matter of it. Ifthis thing leaks out, the Shan, who is favourable to England, goes, andhis cousin, who is from Russia, steps on to the throne. Would it befair to ask the Government to lend my master two hundred thousand poundsunder the circumstances?"

  Lord Rashburn glanced admiringly into the face of his companion, andshook his head.

  "It would be a foolish thing to mention the affair directly to theForeign Secretary at all. Officially I could not listen to you for amoment. I can only listen to you now because I am interested in storiesof any light kind. But if you are asking my advice purely to get yourlocal colour right----"

  "That's it," Harold said eagerly. "If it were true, which is the propercourse to pursue?"

  "I see you are a born novelist," Rashburn smiled shrewdly. "Well, inthese matters there are intermediaries, rich men who are ready tosacrifice their purse for their country. Most of these men have strongclaims on the Government of the day. Some of them become Commissioners,of this, that, and the other, and have letters after their names. Somebecome baronets, or even members of the Upper House. There is Mr.Gerald Parkford, for instance. He is over there talking to the lady inthe yellow satin. I understand that he is deeply interested in problemsof this kind, and has frequently done the State some service, at aconsiderable loss to himself. Some day his wife will wear a coronet.Purely out of regard for your story I will introduce you to Parkford,and then you will be able to bring the tale to a logical conclusion. Ofcourse you will see that if this were anything but fiction it would havebeen a gross impertinence of you to have mentioned it to me."

  "Of course, my lord," Harold said humbly, and carefully avoidingRashburn's eyes. "If your lo
rdship will be so kind as to make me knownto Mr. Parkford----"

  "I will do that with the greatest possible pleasure. I shall catch hiseye presently. Ah, I thought so."

  The little keen, brown-faced man opposite looked up presently, and at asign from Rashburn excused himself to his fair companion, and crossedthe floor. Rashburn explained the situation in a few words.

  "I understand you are fond of adventures of this kind," he said. "Forthe sake of my friend here, and for the sake of his book, you will givehim the benefit of your advice. My dear young friend, I am quitefascinated by your interesting story. Good night."

  Rashburn turned upon his heel in the most natural manner, and plunged atonce into a flirtation with a pretty girl in pink. Nobody would haveguessed that he had just listened to a thrilling piece of informationthat might mean a new move for him in his Eastern policy. The littlekeen-eyed man looked at Harold and nodded his head interrogatively.

  "Of course, Rashburn has to play his game," he said. "It would never dofor him to know anything about the thing officially, unless the Shanapproached him personally, which is not in the least likely. Because,you see, we have got to get that ruby back--no reason to split hairsbetween you and I--and by fair means or foul. Personally, I shouldprefer to settle the business on prosaic business lines--go to Bensteinvery late, tell him we know everything, and tender him a cheque for themoney and bring away the ruby on an authority from the Shan to do so."

  "Not a written authority," Harold said hastily.

  "Of course not. You could come along if you liked. That's one way ofsettling the business out of hand. A day or two after, Rashburn wouldask me how the story was going on, and I should say that I had showedyou a flaw in it, and that as the money had been forthcoming the affairwas finished on much too matter-of-fact lines to give an interestingfinish. He would understand."

  "And his diplomacy would be unspotted," Harold smiled. "But I fancy weare not going to be allowed to finish quite in this light-hearted way.We have Frobisher to deal with--Frobisher who suggested that Mrs.Benstein should appear in the role of the Queen of the Rubies. He knewthat Benstein had the Blue Stone; he knew that Mrs. Benstein is in thehabit of borrowing gems left with her husband for security; and hecalculated on her borrowing that pearl amongst rubies for to-night. Doyou suppose, knowing Frobisher's character, that he means that stone toleave the house?"

  "I know that he is an utterly unscrupulous scoundrel," Parkford saidfreely. "Oh, he is quite capable of this kind of thing. Do you happento know anything of Miss Lyne?"

  "I am engaged to be married to her," Harold said quietly.

  The little brown-faced man whistled softly, but his features expressedno astonishment.

  "I thought your English was uncommonly good for a native," he said. "Ofcourse, I know all about you now. My wife, who knows the history ofeverybody in London, I believe, told me about Harold Denvers and MissLyne, and how you had been forbidden the house and all that kind ofthing. I seem to remember, too, that at one time your father andFrobisher were by the way of being friends."

  "To my father's cost," Harold said with some little bitterness. "Herobbed and ruined my father, and he died a broken man. That was beforeFrobisher put money in his purse by so shamefully abusing his positionin the diplomatic service. As to Miss Lyne----"

  "Miss Lyne may be of the greatest possible service to us," Parkfordsaid.

  "She is of use at the present moment," Harold said. "Of course sheknows I am here and why, though I should be kicked out of the house ifdiscovered. Miss Lyne is keeping Mrs. Benstein out of the way for themoment--out of Frobisher's way, that is."

  Parkford jerked his thumb over his right shoulder and nodded. As Haroldlooked up he saw the shifting figure of Frobisher passing through thecrowd. His eyes were narrow and eager, he seemed to be lookingfurtively and greedily for some one.

  "The bloodhound is astir," Parkford muttered. "We must cross his trailwithout delay."