Complete Works of Talbot Mundy

by Talbot Mundy

  “I suppose that’s your tactful way of saying that Aunty has neglected my education. Well, it isn’t Aunty’s fault. I ran out on her. I did what I did on my own responsibility, against her wishes. And I’m not sorry I did it. Is that perfectly clear?”

  “Perfectly. But you misunderstood me. I meant what I said. I have only one special virtue.”

  Lynn waited. It was a trap; she felt sure of it. She hadn’t minded walking into Rundhia’s traps, because she knew she could find her way out of them. But this man was different. He was absolutely different and he made her heart jump like a thing trying to get out of a cage. Rundhia had never done that, not even in his most exciting moments. But Norwood waited, too. So at last she did ask him:

  “You say only one virtue? What is it?”

  “I never use double meanings.”

  “Are you telling the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Then please say what you think of me, straight, without any double meanings or reservations. Let’s get that over with.”

  “Very well, Lynn. But are you quite sure you won’t be belligerent about it? I didn’t bring you out here to start a fight.”

  It wasn’t the first time he had called her Lynn, but she noticed it. When Rundhia first called her Lynn she actually hadn’t noticed it.

  “I never am belligerent,” she answered.

  “No? What a pity. Of course, I don’t expect to be shot but I don’t even want to make you really angry. You’re a bit angry now, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but with myself. I’m not angry with you. Go ahead, punish me. I’ll take it. Say what you think.”

  “Do you promise you won’t hit back, or make a scene, or accuse me of hidden motives?”

  “Captain Norwood, kindly go ahead and tell me. I’ve treated you very badly and you’re entitled to revenge. I will listen. And I won’t answer back.”

  “Don’t promise.”

  “Don’t promise what?”

  “That you won’t answer back. There are rare occasions when a quick answer is about the only thing that—”

  Lynn interrupted: “I will listen to anything you care to say. And I won’t answer, no matter what you say. And after that, I will go away and you won’t ever see me again.”

  Norwood smiled. She wished he wouldn’t smile. The moonlight limned his well shaped head and revealed his face. Beneath his courteous good humor she could sense a restraint that presaged power when he should choose to let it loose. She had seen him punch Rundhia. She had seen him take command in an emergency and make his seniors obey. Hadn’t he any mercy. She hoped he hadn’t! She didn’t want mercy at his hands. She preferred savagery; it would hurt less than half measures. It might help her to hate him. She wished she did hate him; it would have been so much easier.

  “Say what you think,” she insisted.

  “I think the same now that I did when I first saw you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Perhaps I’m not being quite accurate. It wasn’t until that astonishing picnic at the palace that I made up my mind to marry you. I fell in love with you at first sight, without guessing who you were, when I saw you with the Maharanee in the carriage. When I saw you on horseback in the early morning, it was all over as far as I’m concerned — nothing further to argue about. I’ve committed myself to the hilt. How about you?” Lynn caught her breath. “I — I never dreamt of it!”

  “I know you didn’t. And you’re not dreaming now. We’re both of us stone-cold sober and wide awake.”

  “Do you always make love like this.”

  “I don’t even know the first rules of the game. I’m a chronic bachelor, suddenly converted.”

  “But Captain Norwood—”

  “The only girl I ever fell in love with calls me Carl or else calls the police.”

  “But—” Lynn laughed. “Are there any police.”

  “Try. Shout for them. An Indian night is as full of eyes as the sky is of stars.”

  “But I wouldn’t know what to say to the police. I’d better call you Carl.”

  “And now to use one of your phrases, let’s get this over with: I’m a pauper. I’ve four hundred pounds a year and an Engineer Captain’s pay.”

  “Carl, I hope you don’t think I’m wealthy. I haven’t a cent in the world. I’ve been disinherited.”

  “You have? Is that an actual fact?”

  “Yes. Aunty hasn’t even left me a reputation.”

  “God, that’s marvelous! Oh, my God, what luxury! I was scared stiff.”

  “You? Scared?”

  “Yes. Scared of you. Afraid you’d think I was after your money.”

  “Carl, I haven’t a cent.”

  “All right. More preliminaries. Mostly I live in a tent. My servants are scandalous rogues, who know nearly as much as I do about crime and treachery and worse.”

  “Is there anything worse?”

  “Oh, yes, lots of things. Treachery is merely the veil of what goes on in India. I’m a man of secrets. I’m acquainted with sin. I associate with sinners. And I love it. I won’t be made over.” Lynn laughed: “You said I failed at making Aunty over. I don’t think I’m good at that. I never lived in a tent, and I’ve been kept away from sinners. I’m a very ignorant person. You’d better think again, hadn’t you?”

  “No. I’ve finished thinking about that. But how about you? It’s your last chance. Lynn, you’re on the edge of the abyss of matrimony. Any questions?”

  “Millions of questions! Billions! I don’t even know you. I’ll ask them afterwards.”

  “Good. That’s the style. There’ll be lots of time afterwards. Well, you’ve refused to call the police, and you’ve promised not to talk back or make a scene. So I’ll be damned if I’ll wait any longer. Lynn, I love you.”

  The Indian night and the Indian stars; the perfumed silence and the moonlit lotus pool all merged into a consciousness of love — one moment of eternity that swept away the past — one moment of unselfconscious mystery in which the lover and the loved were one and all life was their realm, all values were in true perspective. Love was real. Everything else was illusion and unreal. Until gradually, even in Carl Norwood’s arms, Lynn’s awareness of earth resumed its spell and she looked away at their reflections in the moonlit lotus pond.

  “Look, Carl. See us! Look.”

  “Shadows.” Then he spoke strangely: “Shadows of reflections that reflect what? You and I are shadows. We move in response to something else. What is it?”

  “Carl are you real? Is that you talking?”

  “I suspect it’s the real me talking to the real you. Lynn, I’m steeped in eastern thought. Life’s good. We’re growing — getting wiser gradually. That’s why I spared Rundhia. He’d have been hanged if I hadn’t done what I did. Now he’ll get some money from the Maharanee and live in Europe.”

  “But Carl—” Lynn hesitated. “Perhaps I shouldn’t say it.”

  “All right, I’ll say it for you. He’ll go to Europe and do it again. And lots of women won’t have sense enough to stand him off until he’s ruined them and sneered and gone.”

  “Yes, I was thinking of that. It was a mean thought.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “The way I thought it, it was mean. Carl, I believe you because I can’t disbelieve you, not for any other reason. It seems impossible. How can such a man as you are, with such thoughts as you think, possibly love me? I believe I deliberately tempted Rundhia. The Maharanee—” Norwood chuckled. “All right, I’ll say that for you, too. She said he really loved you. He’d be a fool if he didn’t. The trouble is, he is a fool. So it won’t last. Not that it makes any difference.”

  “But if I’ve made him wretched—”

  “That’s his business. Each of us pays for his own mistakes.”

  “But that was my mistake.”

  “Your end of it was yours. But you paid cash. Rundhia doesn’t. He lets the bill run at compound interest. Everybody makes mistakes. Nobody�
�s worth a damn who hasn’t made ’em.”

  “Bad ones?”

  “The worse the better. The rule is, learn and don’t repeat. On that condition there’s no aftermath. You pay once and that’s all.”

  “Carl, do you mean that a person’s past isn’t—”

  Norwood laughed: “Sink of iniquity, Lynn, unchastened Jezebel, come to think of it, I left your past history seated on a trunk on the path outside the guesthouse. What with the mosquitoes and her temper she’ll be cooking up a future unless we go to her rescue.”

  “Carl, I’m shameless. I really am. I’d forgotten her.”

  “Did you ever have toothache? One forgets that, too, afterwards.”

  “But this isn’t afterwards. You don’t know Aunty. Carl, I’ll go to her. You mustn’t come. Please, really, you mustn’t. She will say things that I don’t want you to hear. They’re not true but she’ll say them.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You mean, am I sure they’re not true?”

  “I mean, are you sure she’ll say them?”

  “Yes. She always does when she’s angry.”

  “Let’s find out.”

  “Carl, I’m—”

  “You’re embarrassed. So’m I. It’s good for both of us, so let’s do it together.”

  They took their time, strolling along shadowy moonlit paths toward the guesthouse, too interested in each other to notice voices until they were quite close up beneath the darkness of the overhanging trees.

  The trunks no longer stood in a row on the garden path. There was a light in the servants’ pantry at the rear, and a smell of cooking. Light poured through the living-room window.

  “Hush,” said Norwood. “Listen. Rule number one is don’t talk in the dark. Rule number two is listen and learn, but never tell tales.”

  The Maharanee’s voice came quite distinctly through the open window:

  “If I, who am broken-hearted, can forgive my nephew Rundhia—”

  An unmistakable voice interrupted: “You’re being silly. Don’t be sentimental. You probably ruined Rundhia by being sentimental. At your age you ought to know better. You should have spanked him when he was young, and kept him short of pocket money when he was older. I neglected to spank Lynn. That’s the trouble and I’m ashamed of myself. Are you sure you know where she is? Are you quite sure? Who told you she is near the lotus pond with Captain Norwood?”

  “Six servants,” said the Maharanee, “and one gardener. Also the Chief of Police very kindly took the trouble to phone me about it.”

  “Imagine the impudence of that girl!”

  “But I haven’t noticed that she is impudent.”

  “If she was in love with Captain Norwood she should have told me.”

  “Do you think she knew it?” asked the Maharanee. “I knew it, late this evening. But do you think that Lynn knew it?”

  Aunty Harding cackled a chairwoman’s ladylike laugh on two notes, politely derisive:

  “Knew it? Maharanee, what this younger generation knows is more than you and I ever will know. They’re incorrigible. That girl has more whalebone in her will than there are cents in a dollar. It isn’t brittle. You can’t break it. It’s resilient.”

  “Yes,” said the Maharanee, “this generation has its own ideas. It goes its own way. Lynn will go far.”

  Aunty coughed drily: “Go far? She will go to the devil, I don’t doubt. But I have this consolation. If what you say is true, she has disgraced herself with the only gentleman I have met in India.”

  The Maharanee protested loyally: “His Highness my husband—”

  “Oh, kings don’t count,” said Aunty. “They’re middle class nowadays. I can’t forgive kings for the way they’ve sold out to the politicians. I never will forgive them. I’m a democrat and I’ll die in my boots.”

  “But you’ll forgive Lynn?”

  “Getting back at me, are you? A little sarcasm, eh? Maharanee, if I can get that minx Lynn to forgive me before she has had time to slander me to Captain Norwood, I’ll think I’m lucky. I’ll be a wizard — or is it a witch?”

  “Or are you a little wiser than you were?” the Maharanee suggested.

  Norwood whispered: “How much did you bet? Are you still scared?”

  Moses Lafayette O’Leary’s whistle piped from the nearby shrubbery a few notes of a private signal: C, D, F, — C,D,F, — C,D,F — C. It startled Lynn.

  “What was that? It sounded like someone in hiding. Are we being watched?”

  “Yes, the night has eyes in India. They’ve a saying here that even diamonds see in the dark. That’s a very rough diamond informing me that all’s clear and he’s off home. You go in. I’ll follow you presently. I want to speak to him.”

  Norwood walked alone into the shrubbery. He almost walked into Moses O’Leary.

  “I warned you,” said O’Leary, “about women. By the hundred they’re all right. One’s a problem. But you wouldn’t listen. I suppose you’ll get yourself a new man now, to say yes to you and tell you you’re Solomon. But Solomon had him a thousand wives, and concubines on top o’ that. So put that in your pipe and smoke it. Am I out of a job?”

  “Where’s your horse?”

  “‘Tain’t a horse. I rode your bay mare. She’s near the gate.”

  “When you get back to camp see that she’s rubbed down carefully and give her a light blanket. Stand by and see it done. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir, Captain Norwood.”

  “Here’s the key to the whiskey. Help yourself. You’ve leave of absence until noon tomorrow. Turn up sober or I’ll—”

  “Is the Government broke?”

  “Here are ten rupees. But that’s not Government money. It’s personal. Don’t get into trouble with it.”

  “Well, sir, I’ve seen miracles in my day. I’ve seen you pick winners. Maybe she’s as reliable as she is good looking. Here’s hoping. I’ll say a prayer for you.”

  “Don’t keep that mare standing. Good night.”

  “Good night, sir, and here’s hoping.”

  Moses Lafayette O’Leary strode away into the night, until the sound of his footfall ceased on the dusty path and there was nothing more heard of him but the tune that he whistled:

  “Oh, officers’ wives get puddings and pies And soups and roasts and jellies, But poor Tommies’ wives get sweet—”

  PURPLE PIRATE

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I. Alexandria, 43 B.C.

  CHAPTER II. Tros takes counsel with Esias

  CHAPTER III. “Betray me”

  CHAPTER IV. “When I swear to the truth, I swear by Lars Tarquinius!”

  CHAPTER V. “Lord Captain Tros!”

  CHAPTER VI. “Dirty weather for a battle!”

  CHAPTER VII. “Battle stations! All hands!”

  CHAPTER VIII. Gnaeus Ahenobarbus

  CHAPTER IX. “I gave you leave to die in battle”

  CHAPTER X. “Aye, a fine May morning!”

  CHAPTER XI. “Give these men their freedom”

  CHAPTER XII. “I prefer the Queen’s trap to that other”

  CHAPTER XIII. “It is your throne!”

  CHAPTER XIV. “One of these days you’ll be a valuable man”

  CHAPTER XV. The fly-by-night flotilla

  CHAPTER XVI. “Never again to speak of Boidion”

  CHAPTER XVII. “Bracelet maker!”

  CHAPTER XVIII. “Did you think to win Egypt with two dozen men?”

  CHAPTER XIX. “Tros! Tros!”

  CHAPTER XX. “What do you wish?”

  CHAPTER XXI. “You will obey me”

  CHAPTER XXII. “What burns?”

  CHAPTER XXIII. “Angry? Aye, Egypt, I am”

  CHAPTER XXIV. “The city will be in a bad temper”

  CHAPTER XXV. “You will obey, Lord Captain!”

  CHAPTER XXVI. “What matter a burned trireme — ?”

  CHAPTER XXVII. “I am not she any longer. I am Hero”

  CHAPTER XXVIII. “One
of the Queen’s ears”

  CHAPTER XXIX. “Say I will march at daybreak”

  CHAPTER XXX. “I suppose we shall all have to die for the woman!”

  CHAPTER XXXI. “Grapnels — Let go!”

  CHAPTER XXXII. “And now you, Cassius!”

  CHAPTER XXXIII. “He was kind to me. He tried to seduce me.”

  CHAPTER XXXIV. “Are you here to preach to me, Olympus?”

  CHAPTER XXXV. “Olympus, you may tell the Queen—”

  CHAPTER XXXVI. “You can’t save that bireme!”

  CHAPTER XXXVII. Captain Conops

  CHAPTER XXXVIII. “These are ridiculous terms!”

  CHAPTER XXXIX. “You crow like a dunghill cock, but wait and see!”

  CHAPTER XL. “Follow the flagship to sea”

  CHAPTER XLI. “The Lord Captain is well pleased!”

  CHAPTER XLII. “All great men are fools; and wise women worship them”

  CHAPTER XLIII. “Make haste, Herod”

  CHAPTER XLIV. “You, Tros! — clear the room!”

  CHAPTER XLV. “Man the fleet!”

  CHAPTER XLVI. “What does the Queen think it means, Olympus?”

  CHAPTER XLVII. “What a task to be worthy of Tros!”

  CHAPTER I. Alexandria, 43 B.C.

  Hither I have found my real goal unattainable. But I persist, since the attainable is no more than a rung on the ladder of life, on which a man may climb to grander views, though it will break beneath him if he linger too long.

  — From the Log of Lord Captain Tros of Samothrace

  There was a murmur of voices from the huge throne-room; it sounded as distant as the murmur of the sea through the open window. Charmion and Iras, Cleopatra’s confidants, had been dismissed an hour ago. Olympus, the court astrologer remained, hugging his horoscopes in a corner. Tros, in his gold-embroidered purple cloak, stood staring through the window at his great trireme anchored in the harbor. Two deaf mutes, one by each doorpost, watched him; they were as motionless as mummies.

  Cleopatra was heavy with emeralds because Caesar had liked her to wear them, but she was simply dressed in plain white. She sat in the ivory chair that Caesar had always used. Her elbow rested on the small table beside her, and her chin on her hand. Her eyes glowed with intelligence, but in that pose she was not very good-looking, and she was so small that she looked almost unimportant. It was only when she spoke that Cleopatra’s strength of character commanded notice. Her voice was quiet but it held astonishing vibrance.