Chapter XVI: A Murderous Intent

“Well, dear?” cried Mrs Hagopidan, rushing to Cecil’s side, as Charlie precipitated himself down the stairs, hurried across the courtyard, and arrived at the gate just in time to take his place behind Sir Dugald as the great doors were thrown open for Azim Bey’s entrance, “is it all settled? You are glad now that I brought you here on false pretences? Do tell me, have you enjoyed the hour or so which you have spent in admiring the view?”

“Nonsense, Myrta; we haven’t been there so long as that,” said Cecil, half-vexed, but for all answer Mrs Hagopidan drew out a tiny gold watch and exhibited its face.

“It is undeniably an hour and a quarter since we left the drawing-room,” she said, when Cecil, with an embarrassed laugh, had recognised the truth of her statement. “Now do tell me, dear, have you been finding out your fortune from the stars? I can tell you something. Your fate is connected with that of a dark man, and your happiness is threatened by a dark child, do you see? There’s a separation somewhere, I am convinced, but of course a happy ending. Don’t you think I tell fortunes beautifully?”

“Myrta,” said Cecil, solemnly, “don’t be silly. You know you can’t find out things from the stars.”

“How do you know? At least you will allow that I have had plenty of time this evening for studying them, haven’t I?”

In the meantime Azim Bey had been received at the great gate of the Residency, and conducted with all due solemnity to a chair placed for him in the large drawing-room. When this had been accomplished, a sense of constraint seemed to fall upon the party assembled, together with a feeling of doubt as to what was to be done next. Music and conversation had both been interrupted by the unexpected arrival, and the intruder himself seemed as much at a loss as any one. He scrutinised attentively the faces of those present, bestowed a searching gaze on Charlie, and finally looked disappointed and a little inclined to yawn. It was not until Lady Haigh ventured on a civil inquiry as to the reason of this flattering and unlooked-for visit that he brightened up.

“I want mademoiselle,” he answered, becoming animated at once. “Where is she? I came to fetch her. What have you done with her?” and he looked at Charlie again, in a puzzled and suspicious way.

Happily it was just at this moment that Cecil and Mrs Hagopidan returned to the room, the latter with her arm linked in Cecil’s, and at the sight, Azim Bey’s face beamed. He rose from his seat and walked, for his innate dignity forbade his running, to meet them.

“Oh, mademoiselle,” he cried, “I am so lonely! There have never been two such long days since Baghdad was built. I am desolate without you. I have teased Ayesha, I have had two of the servants beaten, I have been very bad. Now come back.”

“Not yet, Bey,” said Cecil, somewhat vexed, and yet touched by the eagerness of the little fellow’s tone; “I can’t break up Lady Haigh’s party in the middle of the evening. But you would like to stay, wouldn’t you, and see how we keep Christmas in England? You have often asked me about it, you know.”

“And if Lady Haigh doesn’t mind, we will play some of the old Christmas games,” put in Charlie, who was very much vexed, and not at all touched, but wanted to make the best of the matter.

“_You_ may play at Christmas games, M. le docteur, if you like,” responded Azim Bey, fixing a stony gaze on Charlie, “but mademoiselle shall sit by me and explain them all. She shall not play your forfeits, your kissing under the mistletoe, with you.”

“I never suggested that she should--in public, at any rate,” returned Charlie, almost overcome by the idea of his kissing Cecil under the mistletoe for Azim Bey’s edification. “I suppose you think that such a proceeding would need a good deal of explanation, Bey?”

“Madame,” said Azim Bey to Lady Haigh, turning in disgust from Charlie’s flippancy, “may I ask that you will have the kindness to let a chair be brought for mademoiselle, that she may sit beside me?”

“Bey! Lady Haigh is standing. I cannot sit down until she does,” said Cecil, and her pupil groaned, and requested that a chair might be placed for Lady Haigh on the other side of him. Then, with Charlie as master of the revels, the games began. Urged by an agonised whisper from their leader, “For goodness’ sake, you fellows, let us send this child home in a good temper,” the other young men threw themselves nobly into the fray, and did their best to induct the bewildered Greek and Armenian guests into the mysteries of blindman’s-buff and general post. Meanwhile, Azim Bey sat very upright on his chair, demanding from Cecil copious explanations of all that he witnessed, and criticising the players liberally. Mrs Hagopidan he was at first inclined to admire, but when he found that she was Cecil’s friend he became jealous, and refused to have anything to say to her, at which the lively little lady laughed as an excellent joke. Except for this, however, Azim Bey seemed to enjoy the evening, if no one else did, for it accorded exactly with his tastes and his ideas of pleasure to sit still and look on while others supplied amusement for him. At length the games came to a close, and Lady Haigh carried off Cecil to don her Palace dress once more. When she came out of her room, with the great white sheet over her arm, ready to put on, Charlie was on the verandah waiting for her, and Lady Haigh discreetly returned into the room for something she had forgotten.

“I couldn’t let you go without one more word,” he said. “You must let me give you this, dear.”

It was a curiously wrought ring, set with pearls and rubies in a quaint design, which produced the effect of two serpents twining round one another, and Charlie explained that he had bought it in Basra two years before. He did not mention that he had intended to offer it to her then, had not Lady Haigh’s cruel fiat intervened, but Cecil understood what he did not say, and let him put it on her finger. But after a moment she started and took it off.

“I mustn’t wear it yet, Charlie. You know that Azim Bey hasn’t heard anything about our engagement, and I shall have to break it to him carefully. I shouldn’t like him to find it out for himself, for it would hurt his feelings so dreadfully to think I hadn’t told him, and he would notice the ring at once and guess what it meant. I must choose a favourable time for telling him, and try to bring him round to take it pleasantly. I should be afraid he will be rather hard to persuade; he is so fond of me, you know.”

“So am I,” said Charlie, “and I don’t see what that wretched child has to do with it. If only I could have got back yesterday, and saved you from three more years of slavery!”

“Don’t be too sure you could have done it,” said Cecil. “A duty is a duty, you know, and I have a duty to Azim Bey.”

“And so you have to me. But I’m not going to be selfish, Cecil. You have made me happier to-night than I could ever have hoped or deserved to be, and if I couldn’t wait ten years for you, if it was necessary, I should be a fool and a brute. Besides, after going through the last two years I know how to be thankful for what I have got. You don’t know how bad I felt when any of the other fellows spoke to you.”

“Did you?” said Cecil. “Do you know, I should have thought you had taken good care that they shouldn’t have the chance.”

“What! have I been such a dog in the manger as all that?” cried Charlie, aghast. “Did I worry you, Cecil? But still you let me do it.”

“You see, I took an interest in you,” said Cecil, calmly. “Lady Haigh commended you to my care in a sort of way.”

“Lady Haigh is reluctantly compelled to ask you what time of night you imagine it to be, good people,” said a voice from within the room, and the two on the verandah started guiltily.

“She’s just ready, Cousin Elma,” said Charlie, taking the sheet from Cecil’s arm, and offering to help her put it on. But he was not an expert lady’s-maid, and the process took a considerable time--still, even if his face did approach hers more nearly than was absolutely necessary, they were standing in deep shadow, and there was nobody to see.

And Cecil was duly mounted on her donkey, and escorted to the gate by Sir Dugald, and rode back to the Palace with Azim Bey at her side, feeling that she did not dare to look at him lest her eyes should tell their own happy story. For once she felt thankful for the protection of the veil, and drew it closely over her flushed face, wondering that the boy’s glances did not penetrate even this defence.

At the Residency, meanwhile, Charlie was pouring out his tale to Lady Haigh, assuring her incoherently that he was at once the happiest and the least deserving man in the whole world, his cousin alternately corroborating and contradicting him. When she had heard all he had to tell, Lady Haigh went away to the office where Sir Dugald was sitting alone, immersed once more in his daily work after the frivolity of the evening, and reading a despatch which had just arrived by special courier. He looked up with puckered brow as his wife came softly in.

“I am overwhelmed with business, Elma,” he said, as a gentle hint to her to be brief.

“I know, dear; I won’t keep you,” she replied, ruthlessly demolishing the barricade of reports and despatch-boxes with which he had fortified himself, and settling herself where she could see his face, “though I’m sure you had better leave it now and get a good night’s rest. You would be much fresher in the morning. But that wasn’t what I came to tell you. Cecil and Charlie are engaged.”

“Pair of fools!” said Sir Dugald, with his eyes on the despatch.

“Dugald!” cried Lady Haigh, with deep reproach in her tones. “I think they are made for one another.”

“I think they are made to create trouble for other people,” said Sir Dugald. “Now, Elma, I have always regarded you as the most sensible woman of my acquaintance. Look at the matter in a sensible light, and don’t talk cant. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t think Miss Anstruther, with her position and capabilities, a fool for throwing herself away on a man like the doctor?”

“He is a dear good fellow,” said Lady Haigh, warmly.

“No doubt, but that’s all you can say for him. And look at him. He has just settled down well here, and then he goes and unsettles himself by this engagement, which is pretty sure to get him into trouble at the Palace. Of course it need not, but with his genius for getting into hot water you may be sure it will.”

“But would you have had them wait three years more?” asked Lady Haigh.

“Certainly not. It is preposterous that he should think of her at all. I should have some respect for Miss Anstruther’s judgment if she had chosen Rossiter. He is a fine fellow, if you like, with some chances of success, and she could have had him for the trouble of holding up a finger.”

“But would you have had her hold up a finger to Captain Rossiter when she was in love with Charlie?” inquired Lady Haigh.

“My dear Elma, I don’t think you quite see my point,” said Sir Dugald, with exceeding mildness. “I consider that it shows a lack of good sense in Miss Anstruther to have fallen in love, as you phrase it, with your cousin at all. To see a girl throwing away her chances is a thing I detest. And now I really must prepare the draft of the answer to this despatch.” This time Lady Haigh accepted her dismissal, and retired, a little saddened, but by no means convinced.

All unconscious of the unpalatable criticism her engagement had excited, Cecil rose the next morning prepared to take the first favourable opportunity of breaking the news to her pupil; but she was somewhat startled when he himself, in the midst of his lessons, paved the way for the disclosure.

“Mademoiselle,” he said, suddenly, looking up from the essay he was writing on the character of Peter the Great, “what makes you so happy?”

“Am I any happier than usual, Bey?” asked Cecil, with a start and a blush. Her pupil studied her face curiously and deliberately.

“Yes, mademoiselle, I am sure of it. When we were out in the garden an hour ago, you walked as though you wished to dance, and you were all the time singing tunes in a whisper, and just now you sat like this, and looked at the wall and smiled,” and Azim Bey supported his chin upon one hand, and pursed up his solemn little face into a ludicrous imitation of Cecil’s far-away gaze and the smile that had accompanied it.

“Dear me, Bey, how closely you watch me!” said Cecil, uncomfortably, feeling that she was not carrying out her determination of the night before at all in the proper way. “I am afraid you have not been working very hard. How far have you got with Peter?”

“I have finished all but his influence upon the Greek Church, mademoiselle. You looked so happy that I felt I must stop to ask you about it. But I will finish Peter, and then we can have some more talk.”

“Don’t you think I ought to be happy to be back here after being away for two whole days?” asked Cecil, lightly, trying to turn aside the subject with a laugh; but Azim Bey bent upon her a severe gaze from under his black brows, and answered solemnly--

“No, mademoiselle; for I watched your face when you went away, and it was not sad. I am convinced that your happiness has nothing to do with me. Now I will finish my essay.”

And having succeeded in making his governess uncomfortable, he applied himself once more to his writing, feeling, no doubt, a certain satisfaction in seeing that she was beginning to look worried and anxious instead of happy. She knew him well in these impracticable moods, when he would exhibit an impish power of detecting the things which he was not meant to see, and delighted in sweeping away conventional disguises, and she feared that he suspected what had taken place, and meant to make her task of telling him about it as difficult as he could. He finished his essay in due time, fastened the pages neatly together, and presented the roll to her with a polite bow, then tidied and closed his desk, all in grim silence, while Cecil waited expectantly for what he would say next. For the moment he seemed to have forgotten the matter, however, for he called to the servants to spread a carpet for him beside the brazier, and to bring some cushions for mademoiselle, and also to replenish the glowing charcoal, for it was a cold day for Baghdad. When his orders had been carried out, he turned to Cecil, and invited her to come down from her desk, and to sit by the brazier a little and warm herself. Pupil and governess generally took a short rest of this kind in the middle of the morning, and Cecil was wont to regard it as a very pleasant time, when bits from the latest magazines and papers which had reached her might be read and discussed, and Azim Bey’s critical faculty guided in the right direction.

“Captain Rossiter lent me a new magazine yesterday, which had just been sent him from home,” she said, willing to delay her important communication until her pupil was in a more accommodating mood, “and I think you would like to see it, Bey. I will send Um Yusuf for it, if you like.”

“Thank you, mademoiselle, but I think I had rather talk to-day instead of reading,” replied Azim Bey; and as Cecil took her seat upon the cushions, he sat down upon his carpet on the other side of the brazier and looked at her. He had proposed to talk, but the conversation did not seem to be forthcoming; he only sat still, with his great black eyes fixed upon his governess. Cecil grew nervous, and perceived that she had not succeeded in diverting his mind from the former subject after all. It was foolish to feel perturbed merely on account of this, however, and she resolved to seize the opportunity and say what she had intended.

“You asked me just now why I seemed so happy, Bey, and I will tell you. I am very happy, though I did not know I was showing it so plainly. You have read in books about people’s being engaged?”

“Yes, mademoiselle,” responded her pupil.

“Well, how would you like it if I told you that I was engaged?”

“I should be deeply interested, mademoiselle,” he replied, with cold politeness. Cecil sighed. He was evidently determined not to be sympathetic. She must try and begin on another tack.

“You like me to be happy, don’t you, Bey? Supposing that there was a very good, nice man whom I liked very much, and who--well, who thought he liked me very much, and that he wanted me to be engaged to him, and there was no reason why we should not be engaged, what then?”

“And as to yourself, mademoiselle?”

“Oh, supposing of course that I was willing,” said Cecil, hastily; “I said that. It wouldn’t make any difference to you, you know. I should stay with you for the three years more, exactly as I promised, and only go when you didn’t want me any longer. Well, Bey, supposing that all this were to happen, there would be no reason why you should mind, would there? I don’t see how it would affect you at all.”

“I should have him killed,” observed Azim Bey, calmly.

“Have whom killed?” demanded Cecil, somewhat startled.

“That man, mademoiselle,--that wicked, wretched man! I would give all I had to get him killed.”

“Nonsense, Bey! We are not in the ‘Arabian Nights’ now.”

“No, mademoiselle, but we are in Baghdad.”

“I shouldn’t have thought you were so silly, Bey. Why should he be killed? He would have done you no harm.”

“He would, indeed, mademoiselle. You are my own mademoiselle, and you shall not be thinking of this--this _imaginary_ person. If he comes, I will have him killed.”

“I thought you cared a little for me, Bey, now that we have been two years together,” said Cecil, with deep reproach. “And yet you talk like this of having an innocent person whom I loved killed, just because I loved him and he loved me.”

“But that is the very reason, mademoiselle. You would marry him and go away to your England again, and I want you to stay here in Baghdad, and be always ready when I want to ask you things. When I am married, I shall say to Safieh Khanum, ‘If you wish to please me, ask Mdlle. Antaza’s advice about everything, and you are sure to be right.’ So you see, mademoiselle, I shall always want you, and you must not go away. Why, I heard Masûd telling you how rude I was to him yesterday, and how I teased Ayesha and Basmeh Kalfa just because you were away.”

“But I can’t stay with you always,” said Cecil, vexed, and yet half-laughing at the tone of pride in which he spoke, “so we must hope you will improve before I leave you. If I never married at all, I should go home when my five years here were over. When you are married, Safieh Khanum will know very well how to manage things without my advice. Don’t you see that it wouldn’t do at all for me to be interfering in her household affairs? Besides, Bey, think how selfish you are. You would like me to lose the very thing that is making me so happy just now, because you would have to do without me.”

“If any one comes, and wishes to be engaged to you, mademoiselle, I shall have him killed,” repeated Azim Bey, doggedly. Cecil lost her temper.

“Very well, Bey; if you are going to behave so foolishly, and talk so childishly of what you know nothing about, I am not going to tell you anything more. You may find things out for yourself, if you like.”

And Cecil walked away to her own room, and returned with Charlie’s ring shining on her finger, a perpetual defiance and reminder to Azim Bey.