CHAPTER X
AT THE RITZ
When Victor Cleves telegraphed from St. Augustine to Washington that heand his wife were on their way North, and that they desired to see JohnRecklow as soon as they arrived, John Recklow remarked that he knew ofno place as private as a public one. And he came on to New York andestablished himself at the Ritz, rather regally.
To dine with him that evening were two volunteer agents of the UnitedStates Secret Service, _ZB-303_, otherwise James Benton, a fashionablearchitect; and _XYL-371_, Alexander Selden, sometime junior partner inthe house of Milwin, Selden & Co.
A single lamp was burning in the white-and-rose rococo room. Under itsveiled glow these three men sat conversing in guarded voices over coffeeand cigars, awaiting the advent of _53-6-26_, otherwise Victor Cleves,recently Professor of Ornithology at Cambridge; and his young wife,Tressa, known officially as _V-69_.
"Did the trip South do Mrs. Cleves any good?" inquired Benton.
"Some," said Recklow. "When Selden and I saw her she was gettingbetter."
"I suppose that affair of Yarghouz upset her pretty thoroughly."
"Yes." Recklow tossed his cigar into the fireplace and produced a pipe."Victor Cleves upsets her more," he remarked.
"Why?" asked Benton, astonished.
"She's beginning to fall in love with him and doesn't know what's thematter with her," replied the elder man drily. "Selden noticed it, too."
Benton looked immensely surprised. "I supposed," he said, "that she andCleves considered the marriage to be merely a temporary necessity. Ididn't imagine that they cared for each other."
"I don't suppose they did at first," said Selden. "But I think she'sinterested in Victor. And I don't see how he can help falling in lovewith her, because she's a very beautiful thing to gaze on, and a mostengaging one to talk to."
"She's about the prettiest girl I ever saw," admitted Benton, "and aboutthe cleverest. All the same----"
"All the same--_what_?"
"Well, Mrs. Cleves has her drawbacks, you know--as a real wife, I mean."
Recklow said: "There is a fixed idea in Cleves's head that Tressa Nornemarried him as a last resort, which is true. But he'll never believeshe's changed her ideas in regard to him unless she herself enlightenshim. And the girl is too shy to do that. Besides, she believes the samething of him. There's a mess for you!"
Recklow filled his pipe carefully.
"In addition," he went on, "Mrs. Cleves has another and very terriblefixed idea in her charming head, and that is that she really did loseher soul among those damned Yezidees. She believes that Cleves, thoughkind to her, considers her merely as something uncanny--something toendure until this Yezidee campaign is ended and she is safe fromassassination."
Benton said: "After all, and in spite of all her loveliness, I myselfshould not feel entirely comfortable with such a girl for a real wife."
"Why?" demanded Recklow.
"Well--good heavens, John!--those uncanny things she does--her ratherterrifying psychic knowledge and ability--make a man more or lessuneasy." He laughed without mirth.
"For example," he added, "I never was nervous in any physical crisis;but since I've met Tressa Norne--to be frank--I'm not any toocomfortable in my mind when I remember Gutchlug and Sanang and AlbertFeke and that dirty reptile Yarghouz--and when I recollect _how thatgirl dealt with them_! Good God, John, I'm not a coward, I hope, butthat sort of thing worries me!"
Recklow lighted his pipe. He said: "In the Government's campaign againstthese eight foreigners who have begun a psychic campaign against theunsuspicious people of this decent Republic, with the purpose ofsurprising, overpowering and enslaving the minds of mankind by a misuseof psychic power, we agents of the Secret Service are slowly gaining theupper hand.
"In this battle of minds we are gaining a victory. But we are winningsolely and alone through the psychic ability and the loyalty and courageof a young girl who, through tragedy of circumstances, spent the yearsof her girlhood in the infamous Yezidee temple at Yian, and who learnedfrom the devil-worshipers themselves not only this so-called magic ofthe Mongol sorcerers, but also how to meet its psychic menace and defeatit."
He looked at Benton, shrugged:
"If you and if Cleves really feel the slightest repugnance toward thestrange psychic ability of this brave and generous girl, I for one donot share it."
Benton reddened: "It isn't exactly repugnance----" But Recklowinterrupted sharply:
"Do you realise, Benton, what she's already accomplished for us in oursecret battle against Bolshevism?--against the very powers of hellitself, led by these Mongol sorcerers?
"Of the Eight Assassins--or Sheiks-el-Djebel--who came to the UnitedStates to wield the dreadful weapon of psychic power against the mindsof our people, and to pervert them and destroy all civilisation,--of theEight Chief Assassins of the Eight Towers, this girl already hasdiscovered and identified four,--Sanang, Gutchlug, Albert Feke, andYarghouz; and she has destroyed the last three."
He sat calmly enjoying his pipe for a few moments' silence, then:
"Five of this sect of Assassins remain--five sly, murderous, psychicadepts who call themselves sorcerers. Except for Prince Sanang, I do notknow who these other four men may be. I haven't a notion. Nor have you.Nor do I believe that with all the resources of the United States SecretService we ever should be able to discover these four Sheiks-el-Djebelexcept for the astounding spiritual courage and psychic experience ofthe young wife of Victor Cleves."
After a moment Selden nodded. "That is quite true," he said simply. "Weare utterly helpless against unknown psychic forces. And I, for one,feel no repugnance toward what Mrs. Cleves has done for all mankind andin the name of God."
"She's a brave girl," muttered Benton, "but it's terrible to possesssuch knowledge and horrible to use it."
Recklow said: "The horror of it nearly killed the girl herself. Have youany idea how she must suffer by being forced to employ such terrificknowledge? by being driven to use it to combat this menace of hell? Canyou imagine what this charming, sensitive, tragic young creature mustfeel when, with powers natural to her but unfamiliar to us, she destroyswith her own mind and will-power demons in human shape who are about todestroy her?
"Talk of nerve! Talk of abnegation! Talk of perfect loyalty and courage!There is more than these in Tressa Cleves. There is that dauntlessbravery which faces worse than physical death. Because the child stillbelieves that her soul is damned for whatever happened to her in theYezidee temple; and that when these Yezidees succeed in killing herbody, Erlik will surely seize the soul that leaves it."
There was a knocking at the door. Benton got up and opened it. VictorCleves came in with his young wife.
* * * * *
Tressa Cleves seemed to have grown since she had been away. Taller, atrifle paler, yet without even the subtlest hint of that charmingmaturity which the young and happily married woman invariably wears, hervirginal allure now verged vaguely on the delicate edges of austerity.
Cleves, sunburnt and vigorous, looked older, somehow--far lessboyish--and he seemed more silent than when, nearly seven months before,he had been assigned to the case of Tressa Norne.
Recklow, Selden and Benton greeted them warmly; to each in turn Tressagave her narrow, sun-tanned hand. Recklow led her to a seat. A servantcame with iced fruit juice and little cakes and cigarettes.
Conversation, aimless and general, fulfilling formalities, graduallyceased.
A full June moon stared through the open windows--searching for thetraditional bride, perhaps--and its light silvered a pale and lovelyfigure that might possibly have passed for the pretty ghost of a bride,but not for any girl who had married because she was loved.
Recklow broke the momentary silence, bluntly:
"Have you anything to report, Cleves?"
The young fellow hesitated:
"My wife has, I believe."
The others turned to her. She seemed, for a moment
, to shrink back inher chair, and, as her eyes involuntarily sought her husband, there wasin them a vague and troubled appeal.
Cleves said in a sombre voice: "I need scarcely remind you how deeplydistasteful this entire and accursed business is to my wife. But she isgoing to see it through, whatever the cost. And we four men understandsomething of what it has cost her--is costing her--in violence to herevery instinct."
"We honour her the more," said Recklow quietly.
"We couldn't honour her too much," said Cleves.
A slight colour came into Tressa's face; she bent her head, but Recklowsaw her eyes steal sideways toward her husband.
Still bowed a little in her chair, she seemed to reflect for a whileconcerning what she had to say; then, looking up at John Recklow:
"I saw Sanang."
"Good heavens! Where?" he demanded.
"I--don't--know."
Cleves, flushing with embarrassment, explained: "She saw himclairvoyantly. She was lying in the hammock. You remember I had atrained nurse for her after--what happened in Orchid Lodge."
Tressa looked miserably at Recklow,--dumbly, for a moment. Then her lipsunclosed.
"I saw Prince Sanang," she repeated. "He was near the sea. There wererocks--cottages on cliffs--and very brilliant flowers in tiny,pocket-like gardens.
"Sanang was walking on the cliffs with another man. There were forests,inland."
"Do you know who the other man was?" asked Recklow gently.
"Yes. He was one of the Eight. I recognised him. When I was a girl hecame once to the Temple of Yian, all alone, and spread his shroud on thepink marble steps. And we temple girls mocked him and threw stemlessroses on the shroud, telling him they were human heads with which togrease his toug."
She became excited and sat up straighter in her chair, and her strangelittle laughter rippled like a rill among pebbles.
"I threw a big rose without a stem upon the shroud," she exclaimed, "andI cried out, 'Niaz!' which means, 'Courage,' and I mocked him, saying,'Djamouk Khagan,' when he was only a Khan, of course; and I laughed andrubbed one finger against the other, crying out, 'Toug ia glachakho!'which means, 'The toug is anointed.' And which was very impudent of me,because Djamouk was a Sheik-el-Djebel and Khan of the Fifth Tower, andentitled to a toug and to eight men and a Toughtchi. And it is a graveoffence to mock at the anointing of a toug."
She paused, breathless, her splendid azure eyes sparkling with thememory of that girlish mischief. Then their brilliancy faded; she bither lip and stole an uncertain glance at her husband.
And after a pause she explained in a very subdued voice that the "Iaglamichi," or action of "greasing the toug," or standard, was done when asevered human head taken in battle was cast at the foot of the lanceshaft stuck upright in the ground.
"You see," she said sadly, "we temple girls, being already damned, caredlittle what we said, even to such a terrible man as Djamouk Khan. Andeven had the ghost of old Tchinguiz Khagan himself come to the templeand looked at us out of his tawny eyes, I think we might have donesomething saucy."
Tressa's pretty face was spiritless, now; she leaned back in herarmchair and they heard an unconscious sigh escape her.
"Ai-ya! Ai-ya!" she murmured to herself, "what crazy things we did onthe rose-marble steps, Yulun and I, so long--so long ago."
Cleves got up and went over to stand beside his wife's chair.
"What happened is this," he said heavily. "During my wife'sconvalescence after that Yarghouz affair, she found herself, at acertain moment, clairvoyant. And she thought she saw--she _did_see--Sanang, and an Asiatic she recognised as being one of the chiefs ofthe Assassins sect, whose name is Djamouk.
"But, except that it was somewhere near the sea--some summer colonyprobably on the Atlantic coast--she does not know where this pair ofjailbirds roost. And this is what we have come here to report."
Benton, politely appalled, tried not to look incredulous. But it wasevident that Selden and Recklow had no doubts.
"Of course," said Recklow calmly, "the thing to do is for you and yourwife to try to find this place she saw."
"Make a tour of all such ocean-side resorts until Mrs. Cleves recognisesthe place she saw," added Selden. And to Recklow he added: "I believethere are several perfectly genuine cases on record where clairvoyantshave aided the police."
"Several authentic cases," said Recklow quietly. But Benton's face was astudy.
Tressa looked up at her husband. He dropped his hand reassuringly on hershoulder and nodded with a slight smile.
"There--there was something else," she said with considerablehesitation--"something not quite in line of duty--perhaps----"
"It seems to concern Benton," added Cleves, smiling.
"What is it?" inquired Selden, smiling also as Benton's features frozeto a mask.
"Let me tell you, first," interrupted Cleves, "that my wife's psychicability and skill can make me visualise and actually see scenes andpeople which, God knows, I never before laid eyes upon, but which shehas both seen and known.
"And one morning, in Florida, I asked her to do somethingstrange--something of that sort to amuse me--and we were sitting on thesteps of our cottage--you know, the old club-house at Orchid!--and thefirst I knew I saw, in the mist on the St. Johns, a Chinese bridgehumped up over that very commonplace stream, and thousands of peoplepassing over it,--and a city beyond--the town of Yian, Tressa tellsme,--and I heard the Buddhist bells and the big temple gong and thenoises in streets and on the water----"
He was becoming considerably excited at the memory, and his lean facereddened and he gesticulated as he spoke:
"It was astounding, Recklow! There was that bridge, and all those peoplemoving over it; and the city beyond, and the boats and shipping, and thevast murmur of multitudes.... And then, there on the bridge crossingtoward Yian, I saw a young girl, who turned and looked back at my wifeand laughed."
"And I told him it was Yulun," said Tressa, simply.
"A playfellow of my wife's in Yian," explained Cleves. "But if she werereally Chinese she didn't look like what are my own notions of a Chinesegirl."
"Yulun came from Black China," said Mrs. Cleves. "I taught her English.I loved her dearly. I was her most intimate friend in Yian."
There ensued a silence, broken presently by Benton; and:
"Where do I appear in this?" he asked stiffly.
Tressa's smile was odd; she looked at Selden and said:
"When I was convalescent I was lonely.... I made _the effort_ oneevening. And I found Yulun. And again she was on a bridge. But she wasdressed as I am. And the bridge was one of those great, horrible steelmonsters that sprawl across the East River. And I was astonished, and Isaid, 'Yulun, darling, are you really here in America and in New York,or has a demon tangled the threads of thought to mock my mind inillness?'
"Then Yulun looked very sorrowfully at me and wrote in Arabiccharacters, in the air, the name of our enemy who once came to the Lakeof Ghosts for love of her--Yaddin-ed-Din, Tougtchi to Djamouk theFox.... And who went his way again amid our scornful laughter.... He isa demon. And he was tangling my thread of thought!"
Tressa became exceedingly animated once more. She rose and came swiftlyto where Benton was standing.
"And what do you think!" she said eagerly. "I said to her, 'Yulun!Yulun! Will you _make the effort_ and come to me if I _make the effort_?Will you come to me, beloved?' And Yulun made 'Yes,' with her lips."
After a silence: "But--where do I come in?" inquired Benton, stifflyfearful of such matters.
"You _came_ in."
"I don't understand."
"You came in the door while Yulun and I were talking."
"When?"
"When you came to see me after I was better, and you and Mr. Selden weregoing North with Mr. Recklow. Don't you remember; I was lying in thehammock in the moonlight, and Victor told you I was asleep?"
"Yes, of course----"
"I was not asleep. I had _made the effort_ and I was with Yulun.... I
did not know you were standing beside my hammock in the moonlight untilYulun told me.... And _that_ is what I am to tell you; Yulun saw you....And Yulun has written it in Chinese, in Eighur characters and inArabic,--tracing them with her forefinger in the air--that Yulun,loveliest in Yian, flame-slender and very white, has seen her heart,like a pink pearl afire, burning between your august hands."
"My hands!" exclaimed Benton, very red.
There fell an odd silence. Nobody laughed.
Tressa came nearer to Benton, wistful, uncertain, shy.
"Would you care to see Yulun?" she asked.
"Well--no," he said, startled. "I--I shall not deny that such thingsworry me a lot, Mrs. Cleves. I'm a--an Episcopalian."
The tension released, Selden was the first to laugh.
"There's no use blinking the truth," he said; "we're up againstsomething absolutely new. Of course, it isn't magic. It can, of course,be explained by natural laws about which we happen to know nothing atpresent."
Recklow nodded. "What do we know about the human mind? It has beenproven that no thought can originate within that mass of convolutedphysical matter called the brain. It has been proven that _somethingoutside_ the brain originates thought and uses the brain as a vehicle toincubate it. What do we know about thought?"
Selden, much interested, sat cogitating and looking at Mrs. Cleves. ButBenton, still flushed and evidently nervous, sat staring out of thewindow at the full moon, and twisting an unlighted cigarette to shreds.
"Why didn't you tell Benton when the thing occurred down there at OrchidLodge, the night we called to say good-bye?" asked Selden, curiously.
Tressa gave him a distressed smile: "I was afraid he wouldn't believeme. And I was afraid that you and Mr. Recklow, even if you believed it,might not like--like me any the better for--for being clairvoyant."
Recklow came over, bent his handsome grey head, and kissed her hand.
"I never liked any woman better, nor respected any woman as deeply," hesaid. And, lifting his head, he saw tears sparkling in her eyes.
"My dear," he said in a low voice, and his firm hand closed over theslim fingers he had kissed.
Benton got up from his chair, went to the window, turned shortly andcame over to Tressa.
"You're braver than I ever could learn to be," he said shortly. "I askyour pardon if I seem sceptical. I'm more worried than incredulous.There's something born in me--part of me--that shrinks from anythingthat upsets my orthodox belief in the future life. But--if you wish meto see this--this girl--Yulun--it's quite all right."
She said softly, and with gentle wonder: "I know of nothing that couldupset your belief, Mr. Benton. There is only one God. And if Mahomet beHis prophet, or if he be Lord Buddha, or if your Lord Christ bevice-regent to the Most High, I do not know. All I know is that God isGod, and that He prevailed over Satan who was stoned. And that inParadise is eternal life, and in hell demons hide where dwells Erlik,Prince of Darkness."
Benton, silent and secretly aghast at her theology, said nothing.Recklow pleasantly but seriously denied that Satan and his demons wereactual and concrete creatures.
Again Cleves's hand fell lightly on his wife's shoulder, in a carelessgesture of reassurance. And, to Benton, "No soul is ever lost," he said,calmly. "I don't exactly know how that agrees with your orthodoxy,Benton. But it is surely so."
"I don't know myself," said Benton. "I hope it's so." He looked atTressa a moment and then blurted out: "Anyway, if ever there was a soulin God's keeping and guarded by His angels, it's your wife's!"
"That also is true," said Cleves quietly.
"By the way," remarked Recklow carelessly, "I've arranged to have youstop at the Ritz while you're in town, Mrs. Cleves. You and your husbandare to occupy the apartment adjoining this. Where is your luggage,Victor?"
"In our apartment."
"That won't do," said Recklow decisively. "Telephone for it."
Cleves went to the telephone, but Recklow took the instrument out of hishand and called the number. The voice of one of his own agents answered.
Cleves was standing alone by the open window when Recklow hung up thetelephone. Tressa, on the sofa, had been whispering with Benton. Selden,looking over the evening paper by the rose-shaded lamp, glanced up asRecklow went over to Cleves.
"Victor," he said, "your man has been murdered. His throat was cut; hishead was severed completely. Your luggage has been ransacked and so hasyour apartment. Three of my men are in possession, and the local policeseem to comprehend the necessity of keeping the matter out of thenewspapers. What was in your baggage?"
"Nothing," said Cleves, ghastly pale.
"All right. We'll have your effects packed up again and brought overhere. Are you going to tell your wife?"
Cleves, still deathly pale, cast a swift glance toward her. She sat onthe sofa in animated conversation with Benton. She laughed once, andBenton smiled at what she was saying.
"Is there any need to tell her, Recklow?"
"Not for a while, anyway."
"All right. I suppose the Yezidees are responsible for this horriblebusiness."
"Certainly. Your poor servant's head lay at the foot of a curtain-polewhich had been placed upright between two chairs. On the pole were tiedthree tufts of hair from the dead man's head. The pole had been rubbedwith blood."
"That's Mongol custom," muttered Cleves. "They made a toug and 'greased'it!--the murderous devils!"
"They did more. They left at the foot of your bed and at the foot ofyour wife's bed two white sheets. And a knife lay in the centre of eachsheet. That, of course, is the symbol of the Sect of Assassins."
Cleves nodded. His body, as he leaned there on the window sill in themoonlight, trembled. But his face had grown dark with rage.
"If I could--could only get my hands on one of them," he whisperedhoarsely.
"Be careful. Don't wear a face like that. Your wife is looking at us,"murmured Recklow.
With an effort Cleves raised his head and smiled across the room at hiswife.
"Our luggage will be sent over shortly," he said. "If you're tired,we'll say good-night."
So she rose and the three men came to make their adieux and pay theircompliments and devoirs. Then, with a smile that seemed almost happy,she went into her own apartment on her husband's arm.
Cleves and his wife had connecting bedrooms and a sitting-room between.Here they paused for a moment before the always formal ceremony ofleave-taking at night. There were roses on the centre table. Tressadropped one hand on the table and bent over the flowers.
"They seem so friendly," she said under her breath.
He thought she meant that she found even in flowers a refuge from thesolitude of a loveless marriage.
He said quietly: "I think you will find the world very friendly, if youwish." But she shook her head, looking at the roses.
Finally he said good-night and she extended her hand, and he took itformally.
Then their hands fell away. Tressa turned and went toward her bedroom.At the door she stopped, turned slowly.
"What shall I do about Yulun?" she asked.
"What is there to do? Yulun is in China."
"Yes, her body is."
"Do you mean that the rest of her--whatever it is--could come here?"
"Why, of course."
"So that Benton could see her?"
"Yes."
"Could he see her just as she is? Her face and figure--clothes andeverything?"
"Yes."
"Would she seem real or like a ghost--spirit--whatever you choose tocall such things?"
Tressa smiled. "She'd be exactly as real as you or I, Victor. She'd seemlike anybody else."
"That's astonishing," he muttered. "Could Benton hear her speak?"
"Certainly."
"Talk to her?"
Tressa laughed: "Of course. If Yulun should _make the effort_ she couldleave her body as easily as she undresses herself. It is no moredifficult to divest one's self of one's body than it is to put
off onegarment and put on another.... And, somehow, I think Yulun will do itto-night."
"Come _here_?"
"It would be like her." Tressa laughed. "Isn't it odd that she shouldhave become so enamoured of Mr. Benton--just seeing him there in themoonlight that night at Orchid Lodge?"
For a moment the smile curved her lips, then the shadow fell againacross her eyes, veiling them in that strange and lovely way whichCleves knew so well; and he looked into her impenetrable eyes introubled silence.
"Victor," she said in a low voice, "were you afraid to tell me that yourman had been murdered?"
After a moment: "You always know everything," he said unsteadily. "Whendid you learn it?"
"Just before Mr. Recklow told you."
"How did you learn it, Tressa?"
"I looked into our apartment."
"When?"
"While you were telephoning."
"You mean you looked into our rooms from _here_?"
"Yes, clairvoyantly."
"What did you see?"
"The Iaglamichi!" she said with a shudder. "Kai! The Toug of Djamouk isanointed at last!"
"Is that the beast of a Mongol who did this murder?"
"Djamouk and Prince Sanang planned it," she said, trembling a little."But that butchery was Yaddin's work, I think. Kai! The work ofYaddined-Din, Tougtchi to Djamouk the Fox!"
They stood confronting each other, the length of the sitting-roombetween them. And after the silence had lasted a full minute Clevesreddened and said: "I am going to sleep on the couch at the foot of yourbed, Tressa."
His young wife reddened too.
He said: "This affair has thoroughly scared me. I can't let you sleepout of my sight."
"I am quite safe. And you would have an uncomfortable night," shemurmured.
"Do you mind if I sleep on the couch, Tressa?"
"No."
"Will you call me when you are ready?"
"Yes."
She went into her bedroom and closed the door.
When he was ready he slipped a pistol into the pocket of hisdressing-gown, belted it over his pyjamas, and walked into thesitting-room. His wife called him presently, and he went in. Hernight-lamp was burning and she extended her hand to extinguish it.
"Could you sleep if it burns?" he asked bluntly.
"Yes."
"Then let it burn. This business has got on my nerves," he muttered.
They looked at each other in an expressionless way. Both reallyunderstood how useless was this symbol of protection--this man the girlcalled husband;--how utterly useless his physical strength, and thepistol sagging in the pocket of his dressing-gown. Both understood thatthe only real protection to be looked for must come from her--from thegifted and guardian mind of this young girl who lay there looking at himfrom the pillows.
"Good-night," he said, flushing; "I'll do my best. But only one of God'senvoys, like you, knows how to do battle with things that come out ofhell."
After a moment's silence she said in a colourless voice: "I wish you'dlie down on the bed."
"Had you rather I did?"
"Yes."
So he went slowly to the bed, placed his pistol under the pillow, drewhis dressing-gown around him, and lay down.
After he had lain unstirring for half an hour: "Try to sleep, Tressa,"he said, without turning his head.
"Can't you seem to sleep, Victor?" she asked. And he heard her turn herhead.
"No."
"Shall I help you?"
"Do you mean use hypnosis--the power of suggestion--on me?"
"No. I can help you to sleep very gently. I can make you very drowsy....You are drowsy now.... You are very close to the edge of sleep....Sleep, dear.... Sleep, easily, naturally, confidently as a tired boy....You are sleeping, ... deeply ... sweetly ... my dear ... my dear, dearhusband."
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