‘I’ve a mind to tell that story right now,’ he said.
She shook her head.
‘There’s no time now,’ she remarked. ‘Remember you have an appointment!’
He looked a little crestfallen.
‘That’s true, Miss Joan!’ he nodded.
She smiled up into his face.
‘I think I shall love to hear it later on,’ she said softly. ‘In the meantime “Joan” without the “Miss” has possibilities, which I may not have noticed before.’
She was gone. For two or three moments Miles stood where he was, still holding the handle of the door, a broad smile on his face. Then he hurried back to the breakfast table, drained a cup of coffee and picked up his topee.
‘Gee!’ he exclaimed. ‘Some angel!’
He dashed out of the house, and slapped the tonga driver on the back.
‘Drive to the Northern India Hotel, son,’ he said, ‘and I’ll give you a tip that’ll buy you a new pony!’
Hugh arrived at the College, feeling quite disinclined to lecture to a crowd of uninteresting students. However, he forced himself to go through with his first period, though he dismissed the class a little earlier than the scheduled time. He was walking slowly toward the staffroom, when a chaprasi handed him a note from the Principal, asking him to go to the office. He found Mahommed Abdullah sitting at his desk looking extremely serious. Hugh guessed what was coming, and decided to open the proceedings himself.
‘I should imagine,’ he said, ‘from your expression, that you have heard the news?’
‘It depends what you mean by the news,’ replied Abdullah cautiously. ‘I have certainly heard something, which has upset me, and I have therefore asked you to see me with a view to a possible explanation.’
‘I think it would be better, Mr Abdullah,’ said Hugh, ‘if you spoke out!’ His voice was calm, level, emotionless, but there was a glitter in his eyes which was not lost upon the Principal.
‘Very well, as you wish it!’ said the latter. ‘I received a telephone message a few minutes ago, informing me of a certain unfortunate incident that took place during a ball you attended last night. I need not say that it came as a very great shock to me. Perhaps you will tell me if this – er – incident actually took place?’
Hugh nodded.
‘You admit it?’ demanded Abdullah.
‘I admit the incident,’ replied Hugh.
‘That a certain lady made an accusation against you in front of a crowd of people – a most terrible accusation – and demanded redress?’
‘Yes.’ Hugh looked down at Abdullah. ‘And now,’ he went on, ‘perhaps you, in turn, will be good enough to tell me to whom I am indebted for the fact that this was reported to you!’
‘Does that matter?’
‘It certainly does. But if you are not inclined to tell me, I shall find out elsewhere.’
‘Sit down, Shannon!’ said Abdullah. ‘Let us discuss this matter calmly!’
Hugh sank into a chair.
‘I have no objection to giving you the name of my informant,’ went on the Principal, ‘but first of all I want to ask a question for my own satisfaction.’
‘Naturally,’ said Hugh. ‘You are going to ask me if I am actually guilty of the conduct I have been accused of!’
‘Exactly! I’d like you to know, however, that I personally feel certain that you are not, and I also made a point of telling my informant so.’
‘That is good of you,’ said Hugh, with real gratitude.
‘Not at all! I think I know you well enough – I only want your word for it!’
‘Then you have my word that the thing is absolutely false!’
‘Thank you!’ Abdullah held out his hand, which Shannon clasped warmly. ‘I was told,’ continued the former, ‘by the Principal of Mozang College, who was present at the dance and heard everything.’
Hugh nodded, and his teeth came together with a click.
‘I guessed it was Rahtz,’ he said, more to himself than to the other.
Abdullah looked at him in surprise.
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘Oh, just a thought,’ said Hugh.
For a moment there was silence, then:
‘Who is this person?’ asked the Principal.
‘A girl I met on board a ship!’ He proceeded to tell the other all about her.
When he had finished Abdullah smiled rather grimly.
‘She appears to be a most unpleasant lady,’ he remarked. ‘Of course,’ he went on, ‘this will reflect very much on the College, and I am afraid that if it gets to the ears of the governing body, they will be up in arms. They are frightened of scandal of any sort. Is it likely to be disproved?’
‘I sincerely hope so,’ replied Hugh. ‘In fact friends of mine are engaged at this moment in doing all they can to help me.’
‘I’m very glad to hear it!’
At that moment the Chairman of the College Board was announced. He was a man whom Hugh had only met once, and to whom he had taken an instinctive dislike. He had small ferrety eyes, a broad nose, and an untidy straggling beard, which he had a habit of caressing lovingly, whenever he was thinking deeply. He wore the ordinary garb – never over clean – of a true Mussulman.
‘Perhaps you will see me later on, Shannon!’ said Abdullah.
Hugh rose to go.
‘There is no need for Professor Shannon to go,’ said the Chairman, in his careful English, ‘I am here on a matter concerning him.’
A quick look passed between the Principal and Hugh, and the former frowned.
‘Some very unpleasant information has come to us,’ went on the Chairman. ‘It is to the effect—’
‘There is no need to repeat it,’ interrupted Abdullah. ‘Professor Shannon and I have been discussing it.’
The bearded man shrugged his shoulders.
‘It is very painful,’ he said. ‘You will understand, Professor Shannon, that such a thing cannot be tolerated here. The scandal would have a most bad effect on students and College.’
Hugh clenched his fists.
‘Do you mean to say,’ he demanded, ‘that you accept this thing?’
Again the shrug.
‘We have no choice. A woman would not make such a statement – so unpleasant to herself – before others, if it were not true!’
‘I am, therefore, condemned without a hearing?’
‘What can you say?’
‘I have Captain Shannon’s word for it,’ interposed Abdullah, ‘that there is no truth in the accusation, and I never believed in it for one moment.’
A sarcastic smile crossed the Chairman’s face.
‘You are a trifle – what is the word – quixotic, Mr Abdullah,’ he said, ‘And, of course, are interested in Shannon—’
‘Professor or Captain Shannon, if you please,’ growled Hugh.
‘Professor Shannon, then. But I am afraid very much, and regret very deeply—’
‘Spare me the regrets!’ interrupted Hugh.
The other cast a malignant glance at him.
‘It would be perhaps as well,’ he said in a harsher voice, ‘if you resigned as soon as possible!’
Abdullah rose from his seat.
‘This is absurd!’ he said.
‘Not at all! There will be a meeting of the Board this afternoon, and it would be better – much better – if I were to convey to them that Captain Shannon had resigned, than that they should demand his resignation!’
Abdullah was pained and he looked it.
‘But why should such a drastic course be necessary?’ he asked. ‘The matter will be put right in a day or two.’
‘Things like this must not be allowed to besmirch the good name of the Muslim Community,’ said the Chairman unctuously.
‘I am a Mahommedan,’ said Abdullah, and his face showed the intensity of his feelings, ‘and, I hope, a good one. Such a course as you suggest is against all ideas of Muslim justice.’
The Chairman frowned
.
‘I am surprised to hear such an expression of opinion from you, Mr Abdullah,’ he said. ‘I repeat that Professor Shannon will save much unpleasantness both to himself and to others, if he resigns quietly, and at once!’
‘I refuse to acknowledge your right to interfere in any way with me,’ snapped Hugh. ‘I am responsible only to the Principal of this College, and then only in matters in the College, or affecting the College. You can say what you like, or do what you like, but I will not resign!’
Once more the bearded man shrugged his shoulders.
‘You will be sorry!’ he sneered.
Hugh turned to Abdullah.
‘Do you wish me to resign?’ he asked.
‘Certainly not!’
For a moment the Chairman looked furious, then he smiled.
‘That is unfortunate!’ he said.
‘Bear this in mind!’ said Hugh to him. ‘I’ll make you apologise to me for the insult you have put upon me today! If you don’t mind, Mr Abdullah,’ he went on, ‘I’ll miss the rest of my lectures this morning.’
‘Do,’ said the Principal. ‘I can quite understand your feelings.’
‘I am sorry Professor Shannon has taken the matter like this,’ commenced the Chairman. ‘I think that—’
Hugh turned his back on him, nodded to Abdullah and walked out of the room.
Dr Mumtaz Sadiq was hovering about outside. He tried to take Hugh’s arm in what he considered a friendly manner, but it was shaken off.
‘This is a bad business,’ he said.
Hugh glared at him.
‘What do you know about it?’ he demanded.
‘Only what the Chairman told me. It’s not nice for you – I’m really sorry!’
‘Good of you!’ said the other shortly. ‘I wasn’t aware that I had asked for your sympathy.’
‘Of course it was mad of you to get entangled with a woman of that type,’ said Dr Sadiq, shaking his head reprovingly. ‘It’s all a question of psychology, you know,’ he went on. ‘Of course I understand the mentality of these people, and with my vast knowledge I can help you, if you’ll let me take her in hand.’
‘Go to the devil!’ snapped Hugh.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Miles Gets Busy
Miles arrived at the Northern India Hotel, and told the tonga wallah to wait. He marched straight into the dilapidated little office, where he found Cousins and a friend of the latter’s – a police sergeant named Spink – awaiting him.
‘I’m glad you’ve arrived,’ he said.
‘We’ve been here for some time, sir,’ replied Cousins, playing up to his character of valet before the policeman.
‘Then I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,’ said Miles cheerfully.
The assistant manager, a small, lean Goanese, who had been watching them curiously, here interposed a remark.
‘I should theenk, sare,’ he said, ‘that Mees Gregson is in breakfast room at thees time. Shall I go and tell her you waiting?’
‘No thanks!’ replied the American. ‘I’ll find her myself. Where is the breakfast room?’
It was pointed out to him, and he was about to cross the compound, when Spink followed him outside, and touched him on the arm.
‘Don’t bring me into this business if you can possibly help it, Mr Miles!’ he said.
‘Don’t you worry!’ was the reply. ‘I don’t think there will be any need for such a drastic step, and I guess, even if there is, we won’t get so far as the police court.’
He smiled, and continued on his way. He did not want Miss Gregson to see him and take alarm, and for that reason had not permitted the under-manager to announce him. He approached the door of the breakfast room cautiously and looked in. There was a sprinkling of guests seated therein, but no sign of Miss Gregson. He called the head waiter, and inquired if she had had breakfast. It took the man some time to understand, but at last his face brightened and, by means of signs rather than words, he indicated that the lady was taking breakfast in her room that morning. Miles wandered back to the office.
‘What is the number of Miss Gregson’s room?’ he asked.
‘Seventeen, sare!’ replied the clerk.
‘You boys had better come right along!’ said the American. ‘We’ll wait on the veranda outside room seventeen until she is ready to see us. Gee!’ he went on, as the three of them walked round the compound towards Miss Gregson’s apartment. ‘I guess she’ll be some surprised to see us!’
There were several cane chairs on the veranda outside the block of rooms of which seventeen was the centre, and drawing one close to the door, Miles calmly sat down and lit a cigarette. Presently a bearer crossed to the room from the kitchens with a dish of something in his hands. The American intercepted him.
‘Say, bearer,’ he asked, ‘is Miss sahib in bed?’
The waiter indicated that she was, and disappeared within.
‘I guess we’ve got a long wait,’ said Miles.
‘That bearer will probably tell her we are waiting,’ said Cousins, ‘and describe you, sir.’
‘Yes; darn it! Therefore it’ll be best if I send in my card right now. Is there another way out, do you think?’ he asked Spink.
‘Bound to be, sir, through the bathroom, but that wouldn’t help her much. I know this place. There is a high brick wall behind the block, and only a narrow passage. If she makes her way along that, in either direction, she’s bound to emerge into our view.’
‘Good!’
At that moment the waiter returned and Miles gave him a card, which he told him – through the medium of Spink, who acted as interpreter – to give to Miss Gregson, and inform her that he would wait until she was ready to receive him.
Olive had been sitting up in bed quietly enjoying her breakfast. Her trip to Lahore had cost her nothing, she had had a very ample revenge for the way Hugh Shannon had turned her down on board ship, and, in addition, she had received a thousand rupees. The world appeared a very bright place to her that morning, and now all she had to do was to get up casually, bath and dress, and catch the train for beautiful Bangalore. A nuisance that journey, of course, but it was quite worth it considering everything. She stretched herself luxuriously as the waiter entered with the second course. Then came rather a jarring note to her enjoyment.
‘There is a sahib waiting to see you, Miss sahib,’ announced the bearer, as he laid down the dish on the bedside table.
She stopped stretching, and stared at him.
‘A sahib!’ she exclaimed. ‘Who?’
‘He did not tell me. He asked if you were in bed. There are two other sahibs with him I think.’
For a moment a dreadful fear entered Olive’s mind. Three men! Perhaps Shannon, Miles and the valet! Then she assured herself that it could not be – they would think she was at the Royal, not here. It must be Novar, Rahtz and Hudson, although none of them had come to the hotel before – Hudson in fact had dropped her outside the gates when he had brought her from Novar’s bungalow, as though he had no intention of being seen on the hotel premises with her.
‘What is the sahib, who spoke to you, like?’ she asked in rather a shaky voice.
‘He is tall, I think, although of that I could not be certain, as he was sitting and he wears glasses!’
She went pale. The description certainly fitted Miles.
‘I cannot see anyone,’ she said nervously. ‘I – I’m not dressed.’
The bearer inclined his head, and went out. Presently he was back, and handed her a card.
‘The sahib says he will wait until you are ready to see him,’ he told her.
She took the piece of pasteboard in trembling fingers. One glance was sufficient. She dropped it on the bed, a half-stifled groan issuing from her lips.
‘Tell the sahib,’ she said, ‘that I will see him in an hour.’
By that time, she thought, she would be able to get away from the hotel. He would be sure not to wait. She had lost all interest in her breakfast now
, her appetite had completely deserted her, and as soon as the waiter had left the room, she jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom bent on making a hasty toilet, and getting away as soon as possible. How on earth, she wondered, had they found out where she was!
Miles received the message with a smile, and getting up he winked at the others, and led the way through the hotel gates and across the road to where a group of shady trees enabled them to conceal themselves and watch the door of Miss Gregson’s room.
‘I guess we shan’t have to wait half an hour after all,’ said the American. ‘She’ll be out of that room, and make for the station in a remarkably short space of time.’
Cousins laughed, and Spink grinned.
‘This business is quite interesting,’ said the latter. ‘I only hope that it won’t go wrong, and put me in the soup.’
‘There’s no danger of that,’ said Cousins. ‘Once Mr Miles talks to her, she’ll come to earth – voila tout!’
‘I reckon that as soon as she’s dressed,’ said the American, ‘she’ll hop over to the office and pay her bill to save time, come back, grab her bag and beat it.’
He proved to be a true prophet. In less than a quarter of an hour Miss Gregson came from her rooms cautiously, glanced anxiously about, then made for the office.
‘Now, boys,’ said Miles. ‘This is where I get busy. I’m going to wait in her room. If you’ll just saunter up after she has returned, Spink, so that I can show her your uniform if necessary, everything will be bully.’
Without waiting for a reply he walked rapidly back into the hotel compound, and coolly entered number seventeen. Almost every bedroom in the Northern India Hotel has a tiny anteroom leading into it. These apartments can hardly be described as sitting rooms as they are too small, and only contain a couple of chairs and a table. Miles found himself in Miss Gregson’s, and selecting a chair, sat down and placed his topee on the floor beside him.
In the meanwhile Olive had entered the office and demanded her bill, explaining that she was in a hurry to get away. The under-manager, who also acted as cashier, leisurely turned over the books, and carefully selecting a pen, started to make out the account as though he knew not the meaning of the word ‘hurry’. Miss Gregson watched him, her irritability mounting every minute.
Devil's Cocktail (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) Page 18