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There fell a sudden deep silence. Max stood quite motionless during the pa.s.sage of seconds, watching, waiting, while Noel stood before him, fiercely threatening.
Then, very abruptly, as if he had suddenly discovered that there was nothing to wait for, he turned on his heel.
"Good-night!" he said, and walked away.
He went with his customary, sauntering gait, but there was absolute decision in his movements. It was quite obvious that he had no intention of returning.
And Noel made no attempt to call him back. He stood with his black brows drawn, and dumbly watched him go.
At the end of thirty seconds, he wheeled slowly round, and turned his sullen face towards Nick's bungalow. As he did so, there was a slight movement near the gate as of someone stealthily retreating.
Instantly suspicion leaped, keen-edged with anxiety, into his brain. In a flash his former fears rushed back upon him. They were so horribly near the native city, so horribly undefended. He remembered the bomb on the parade-ground, and felt momentarily physically sick.
In another instant he was speeding to the open gate. He turned sharply in between the cypresses, and was met by a white-clad, cringing figure that bowed to the earth at his approach.
Noel stopped dead in sheer astonishment. So sudden had been the apparition that he scarcely restrained himself from running into it.
Then, being in no pacific mood, his astonishment pa.s.sed into a blaze of anger.
"What the devil are you sneaking about here for?" he demanded. "What are you doing?"
The m.u.f.fled figure before him made another deep salaam. "Heaven-born, I am but a humble seller of moonstones. Will his gracious excellency be pleased to behold his servant's wares?"
It was ingratiatingly spoken--the soft answer that should have turned away wrath; but Noel's tolerance was a minus quant.i.ty that night.
Moreover, he had had a severe fright, and his Irish blood was up.
"You may have moonstones," he said, "but you didn't come here to sell them. The city's full of you infernal _budmashes_. It's a pity you can't be exterminated like the vermin you are. Be off with you, and if I ever catch you skulking round here again, I'll give you a leathering that you'll never forget for the rest of your rascally life!"
The moonstone-seller bowed again profoundly. "Yet even a rat has its bite," he murmured in a deferential undertone into his beard.
He turned aside, still darkly muttering, and shuffled past Noel towards the road.
Noel swung round on his heel as he did so, and administered a flying kick by way of a.s.sisting his departure. Possibly it was somewhat more forcible than he intended; at least it was totally unexpected. The moonstone-seller stumbled forward with a grunt, barely saving himself from falling headlong.
A momentary compunction p.r.i.c.ked Noel, for the man was obviously old, and, by the peculiar fas.h.i.+on in which he recovered his balance, he seemed to be crippled also. But the next moment he was laughing, though his mood was far from hilarious. For, with an agility as comical as it was surprising, the moonstone-seller gathered up his impeding garment and fled.
He was gone like a shadow; the garden lay deserted; Noel's bitterness of soul returned. He glanced towards the darkness of the cypresses where they had walked only that morning, and a great misery rose and engulfed his spirit. A second or two he stood hesitating, irresolute. Should he go in and see her? Vividly her pale face came before him, but glorified with a radiance that was not for him. No, he could not endure it. By to-morrow he would have schooled himself. To-morrow he would wish her joy. But to-night--to-night--he drained the cup of disappointment for the first time in his gay young life and found it bitter as gall.
With a fierce gesture he flung round and tramped away.
CHAPTER XI
THE FAITHFUL WOUND OF A FRIEND
All the social circle of Sharapura and most of the native population usually a.s.sembled on the polo-ground to witness the great annual match between the Rajah's team and the officers stationed at the cantonments.
It was to be followed by a dance at the mess-house in the evening, to which all English residents far and near had been bidden, and which the Rajah himself and his chief Minister, Kobad s.h.i.+kan, had promised to attend.
The day was a brilliant one, and Olga looked forward to its festivities with a light heart. The thought of Noel was the only bitter drop in her cup of happiness, but instinct told her that his wound would be but a superficial one. She was sorry on his behalf, but not overwhelmingly so.
As Nick had wisely observed, it would be far more fitting for him to wait and marry Peggy Musgrave. They were eminently well suited to each other, and would be playfellows all their lives.
She expected Max to present himself in the course of the morning, and he did not disappoint her. He made his casual appearance soon after Nick had departed for the Palace, and found her in the garden. Not alone, however, for Daisy had arrived before him to see how Olga fared after the previous day's adventure.
Max, strolling out to them, was met by Olga in a glowing embarra.s.sment which he was far from sharing, and introduced forthwith to Daisy as "Noel's brother."
Daisy, who had just been listening to a somewhat halting account of his unexpected arrival the day before, marked her very evident confusion and leaped to instant comprehension. So this was the cause of Noel's reticence! She shook hands with Max with a very decided sense of disappointment, resenting his intrusion on Noel's behalf, and with womanly criticism marvelling that this thick-set unromantic Englishman could ever have held the girl's fancy when Noel, the handsomest officer in the district, had been so obviously at her feet.
She heaved a little sigh for Noel even while she said, smiling, "I have just been hearing of your dramatic arrival yesterday, Dr. Wyndham. You could scarcely have chosen a more thrilling moment."
He smiled also, with slight cynicism. "Yes, there were plenty of thrills for all of us," he said. "Have you heard the latest?"
Daisy's eyes travelled from him to Olga, who stretched out her left hand, bearing Max's ring upon it, and said, very sweetly and impulsively: "Oh, Mrs. Musgrave, I was just going to tell you about it.
Please don't think me deceitful! It--it--it only happened last night."
"My darling child!" Daisy said. She took the outstretched, trembling hand and folded it in a soft, warm clasp. Her eyes went back to Max, whose expression became more ironical than ever under her scrutiny. It was as if he observed and grimly ridiculed her jealousy on his brother's behalf. And Daisy's resentment turned to a decided sense of hostility.
She discovered quite suddenly but also quite unmistakably that she was not going to like this young man.
She was sure the green eyes under their s.h.a.ggy red brows saw and mocked her antipathy. There was even a touch of insolence about him as he said: "I'm afraid it's taken your breath away, but it is not such a sudden arrangement as it appears. Strange to say all women don't fall in love with me at first sight. Olga, for instance, did quite the reverse, didn't you, Olga?"
His eyes mocked Olga now openly and complacently. Daisy told herself indignantly that she had never in her life witnessed anything so disgustingly cold-blooded. He positively revolted her. She saw him as a husband, selfish, supercilious, accepting with condescension his young wife's eager devotion, and her congratulations died on her lips. For Daisy was a woman with whom a man's homage counted for much. She had been accustomed to it all her life and its absence was an offence unpardonable. And then suddenly Olga overcame her shyness, and boldly came to the rescue.
"Max, don't make Mrs. Musgrave think you a beast! It isn't fair to me.
He isn't a bit like this really," she added to Daisy. "It's all affectation. Nick knows that."
Daisy laughed. The girlish speech helped her, if it did not remove her doubts.
She gave her free hand to Max, saying, "I suppose we are none of us ourselves to strangers, but, since you are engaged to Olga, I hope you will not place me in that category. You are very, very lucky to have won her, and I wish you both every happiness."
Max bowed, still with a hint of irony. "It's nice of you not to condole with Olga," he said. "I feel inclined to myself. Perhaps, if I am not wanted, I may be allowed to go and have a smoke on the verandah. I am expecting my traps to turn up directly," he added to Olga.
"Oh, we must come and see about them," she said. "The _khit_ will show you your room. Max is going to put up with us now," she told Daisy, with a smile that pleaded with her friend to be lenient.
Daisy's hand still held hers. "That is nice, dear," she said. "I must be getting back to Peggy. Is your _fiance_ coming to the regimental dance to-night?"
"Oh, Max,"--Olga's eyes shone upon him,--"you will, won't you? But of course you will. Noel will have settled that."
The corner of Max's mouth went down. "Noel is not in the habit of settling my affairs great or small," he observed. "If I go at all, it will be in the little G.o.d's train and under his auspices alone. But I warn you I'm not much of a dancer."
"What nonsense!" said Olga. "All doctors dance. It's part of their hospital training."
"Is it?" said Max. "Then my medical education is incomplete. My partners generally prefer to sit out after the first round."
"I shan't sit out with anyone," declared Olga. "It's such a waste of time. One can do that any day."
"So one can," said Max. "I hope you are not hurrying away on my account, Mrs. Musgrave. My business here is not urgent. It will very well wait."
He was evidently in an incurably cynical mood, and Olga gave him up in despair. She went with Daisy to the gate, and, with her arms round her neck, besought her, half-laughing, not to be misled by appearances.