CHAPTER XV.HUNT THE SLIPPER.A fine perspiration stood out on Lefroy's face, he swayed to and fro like one in an advanced stage of intoxication, the Count was utterly unmanned for the moment. As his brain and eye cleared presently, Frobisher came out of the mist in the semblance of a man who was manifestly enjoying himself."I pray you sit down," he said in his silkiest manner. "My dear Count, the heat has been too much for you. The hero of a thousand adventures succumbs to a high thermometer—it is possible to choke a Hercules with an orange pip. A little of the old brandy, eh?"Frobisher's face was perfectly grave now, only the dilation of his pupils and the faint quivering of his lips denoted his amusement. Lefroy forced a smile in reply. He was conscious of the fact that that little demon opposite was reading his inmost thoughts."Just a little of the brandy," Frobisher said coaxingly. "The kind that I keep for my very dear friends. Ah, I am sure that is better. Now let us sit down and smoke, and forget the giddy side outside."Lefroy nodded. The course suggested suited him admiringly. When he was best pleased Frobisher chatted most, and he seemed to be exceedingly pleased about something now. Lefroy would have time to recover his scattered thoughts and define some line of action."You have solved the problem of the lady of the rubies?" Sir Clement asked."I have," Lefroy replied carelessly. "From a romantic point of view the solution is disappointing. I expected to see a regal personage at the very least, whereas——"The speaker shrugged his shoulders insolently. The other smiled expectantly."Go on, my dear Lefroy. I am all attention, I assure you. The lady of the rubies is——?"It was on the tip of Lefroy's tongue to snarlingly reply that Frobisher knew perfectly well, but that was bad policy under the circumstances."You are typical of the spirit of the age," he said. "All the same, I hardly expected to see the wife of a moneylender under your roof. Lady Frobisher——""Has progressed rapidly of late in the cult of the proletariat. So Mrs. Benstein is the lady of the rubies. I half expected it from the first—only the wife of a moneylender could sport jewels like that. But she is a beautiful woman, Lefroy, and she is going to make a great social success."Lefroy could only mutter something in reply. He had one great aim in view at the present moment—to get back to the ballroom and persuade Frobisher to remain where he was. Did the Count but know it, Frobisher was just as eager to reverse the order of the procedure. But no suggestion of this escaped him, he sat there smiling as if he and a double meaning were strangers."I am very partial to rubies myself," he said. "In a modest way I am a collector, and my uncut stones are worth an inspection. My wife also has the same weakness, which is another of the many strong bonds that bind us together. I'll show them to you.""Don't trouble," Lefroy said hastily. "Any other time will do. If you have to fetch them——""Sit down. Positively you must have another drop of the brandy. Your nerves are better, but not what the nerves of a bold warrior should be."So saying, Frobisher produced a case from a drawer and laid the contents before Lefroy's eyes. In spite of himself he could not but admire. He did not see the keen, alert look on the face of his host as he bent down to examine the gems. People were passing the open door; there was a light ripple of laughter and conversation. Frobisher darted into the hall."This way a moment," he whispered, as he caught his wife by the arm. "Come with me and do as I tell you. You are to keep Lefroy in yonder room for half an hour."He was back again before Lefroy had missed him. Lady Frobisher's scornful eyes softened as they fell upon the tray of gems."We have a taste in common, then, Count," she said.Lefroy replied suitably enough. He had a strong admiration for the white, cold beauty of this woman; he watched her slim fingers as she toyed with the gems. Some of them were unnamed, whilst others had histories of their own. Frobisher pitched his cigarette into the grate."You can amuse the Count, my dear," he said. "He has had some little touch of illness, and should be kept quiet. The gems will interest him. Meanwhile, I will endeavour to take your place."It was all done so quickly and naturally that Lefroy could do or say nothing. Did Frobisher really know anything or not, he began to wonder. If there was any conspiracy Lady Frobisher knew nothing of it, it only needed a glance at that scornful, beautiful face to feel that. She was talking now easily and naturally enough with one of the stones in her pink palm, and Lefroy had perforce to listen. To leave the room now would have been an unpardonable rudeness—agaucherieLefroy never allowed himself to commit.Meanwhile Frobisher had mingled with his guests. He was in no hurry. Lefroy was safely out of the way for a time, and Frobisher always preferred to hunt his game leisurely. Besides, the crush of dancers and guests generally was so great that progression was a matter of some difficulty. He came across Angela presently attired in white and with a pair of gauze wings suggestive of Peace or something of that kind."Stop a bit," he said, "and tell me all about it. Upon my word, you are looking exceedingly nice. By common consent, who is the success of the evening?""Oh, Mrs. Benstein, without doubt," Angela replied, with sincere admiration. "She is lovely, and those rubies are simply superb. Everybody is talking about them.""And the fortunate woman herself? How does she wear her blushing honours?""Very well indeed. You know, I rather like her. Everybody is asking for an introduction now, but at first people held aloof. I have had a long chat with Mrs. Benstein, and she quite fascinated me. She is going to be a great success.""Of course she is with her cleverness and audacity, to say nothing of her beauty and her jewels, it could not be otherwise. I must go and pay my respects to her. Where is she?"But Angela had not the slightest idea. Something like a thousand people were scattered about the long suite of rooms, and there were shady alcoves and dim corners for easy conversationà deux. Mingled with the brilliant throng of uniform and fancy dresses the jewelled turban of the Shan of Koordstan stood out. He came up with his companion similarly attired, and held out his hand."This is an unexpected pleasure, your Highness," said Frobisher. "I heard that you were not quite——""Sober," the Shan said frankly. "I have been leading a deuce of a life lately, Frobisher. My servant here, Aben Abdullah, insisted upon my putting in an appearance here to-night. He has been bullying me as he would never dare to do at home. When we get back I shall have to bowstring him gently. He is a very valuable servant, but he knows too much."Aben Abdullah bowed and smiled. The Shan extended his patronage to Angela."My servant knows a little English," he said. "My dear young lady, would it be too great a trespass on your kindness to ask you to act as his cicerone for a time? I have a little business to discuss with Sir Clement. Aben is very intelligent, and he is a noble in his own country."Angela expressed her pleasure. She was always ready to sacrifice herself to others; besides, she had rather taken a fancy to this handsome young foreigner, who reminded her somehow of Harold Denvers."What would you like to do?" she asked, as they strolled off together.Aben murmured something about the flowers that he had heard so much about. Could he see them? Angela would be delighted. They stood in a large conservatory at length in the dim light, and then Aben smiled down into Angela's face."I feel sure of my disguise now, darling," he whispered. "If I could deceive you, I am not in the least afraid that Sir Clement will find me out.""But what does it mean, Harold?" Angela asked. "You certainly reminded me of yourself; but I should never have penetrated your disguise. But the Shan must know all about it.""Of course he does. It is a little scheme that we have hatched together. I have no time to tell you everything now; indeed, with so clever a man to deal with as Frobisher it is far better that you should not know. But the Shan has done a very foolish thing, and his very throne is in danger. Both Frobisher and Lefroy know this, and they will do all they can to keep him under their control. If I can defeat that plot and free the Shan, then I need not trouble about the future."Angela's eyes lighted up eagerly. All her quick sympathies had been interested."You will let me help you?" she exclaimed. "Harold, I am quite sure that you want my assistance. I am a great deal stronger and braver than you imagine. Try me.""I am going to try you, my dear little girl," Harold whispered. "I should like to kiss you at this moment, but I dare not take any risks. For the present your task is a very simple one. I want you to get a certain lady in here and sit under the shaded lamp yonder. You must get here and keep her talking till I come back. If I hold up my two hands your task is finished; if I come forward, you must know that I want to speak to the lady alone.""It all sounds very mysterious, Harold. Who is the lady?""They have christened her the lady of the rubies here. I was very pleased just now to hear that you had, so to speak, made friends with her. Will you go at once?"Angela made off hurriedly, and, for the time being, Harold returned to the ballroom. On the whole, he was not particularly enamoured of the part he was playing: the idea of forcing himself into a house where he had been forbidden by the host was repugnant to his finer feelings; but, on the other hand, any scheme was worthy which had for its end the defeat of a scoundrel. As the Shan caught Harold's warning eye he left Frobisher and moved towards his ally."So far there is not much the matter," Harold replied. "Miss Lyne knows exactly what she has to do, and she will do it well. You are going to have a pretty big surprise just now, but whether it will turn out a pleasant one or the reverse I cannot say as yet. Stand here and pretend to be interested in the pictures."Angela had been more successful in her search than Frobisher. A prosy peer had buttonholed his host and the latter could not get away for the present without using actual violence. Angela had found the lady of the rubies sitting in a dim corner alone. She looked a little dazed and tired."I am not used to it," she said frankly. "And I can't stand all their silly folly. I sent my partner for an ice on purpose to get rid of him. My dear young lady, you are very kind, and I've taken a great fancy to you because you are the first person I have spoken to to-night who is honest and true. All the same, I really want that ice, and if you can find some quiet corner——""I know the very thing," Angela cried eagerly, delighted at the way fate was playing into her hands. "Come along. There, what do you think of that? Sit down near the light and I'll go and get the ice."Mrs. Benstein protested, but Angela was already out of earshot. The Shan and his companion were deeply engrossed in a pair of Romneys as Angela passed them."I have secured your bird," she whispered. "She is exactly where you asked me to place her."Harold touched his companion on the arm, and they strolled away leisurely in the direction of the great conservatory. It was fairly quiet here, with few people about. Under the lamp sat a rarely beautiful woman whose dress from head to foot was one mass of rubies. Another one flamed across her forehead."What do you think of her?" Harold whispered. "And what do you think of that big stone that is attached to her forehead by those thin gold wires?"The Shan started violently. He rubbed his hands across his red bloodshot eyes."The Blue Stone of Ghan," he whispered hoarsely. "By Allah, she is wearing the sacred jewel!"CHAPTER XVI.DIPLOMACY.As the Shan stood there watching the graceful, unconscious form of Mrs. Benstein, a great rage seized him. In one moment his thin veneer of Western civilisation had vanished. He was Baserk, savage, hard and cruel, from his glittering eyes and long fingers that crooked as if on the woman's throat. He swayed against Denvers with the passion that thrilled him."Close in on her," he hissed. "Drag the jewel away. If you steal behind her and hold her by the throat——" He could say no more for the present. There was safety and freedom close to his hand, and only a frail woman between himself and his desires."Oh, rubbish!" Harold said coolly. "My good sir, you will kindly forget that you are the Shan of Koordstan for a moment, and recollect that you are a guest here. I can give a pretty shrewd guess how the stone came here—indeed, I should have been disappointed had I not seen it. Benstein is old and feeble, and he dotes on his wife. But there is a better way than yours. Can I trust you?"The Shan nodded. He was recovering himself slowly."Then stay here, but do not be seen. Miss Lyne will be back presently, and she is on our side. Ah, here she comes. I have a few words to say to her."Angela came up at the same moment, her eyes shining blue interrogation points. Harold drew her aside a little way and rapidly whispered a few words in her ear."Questions presently," he smiled. "We have only time for action now. Ask Mrs. Benstein to remain where she is, and say you will be back in a moment. Meanwhile, I must get you to present me to Lord Rashburn, the Foreign Secretary. Can you manage this?"Angela was under the impression that she could manage this quite well. Rashburn was a close connection of Lady Frobisher, and a great admirer of her own; indeed, the handsome, courtly Foreign Secretary was an avowed admirer of the sex generally. It was some little time before Angela contrived to get possession of the great man and it required all her fascination to induce him to listen to the handsome young man who represented the Shan's suite."I'll give him five minutes," he said. "Where is the intelligent young foreigner?"Harold came up at a sign from Angela. Lord Rashburn was courtly as usual, but bored. He particularly disliked intelligent young foreigners. He hoped that Aben Abdullah knew some English."I am English, my lord," Harold said coolly. "I assure you that I shall not bore you; indeed, I propose to interest you extremely. I heard your lordship in a recent speech observe that you derived a lot of good from reading healthy fiction; indeed, you went on to say that, under altered circumstances, you would have been an author yourself. I should like to discuss a little plot with you."Rashburn was unaffectedly interested. Mystery and intrigue of any kind appealed to him; he was fond of building up stories from conventional surroundings. And there was some mystery here."Go on," he said, courteously. "I feel I shall be interested. In the first place, is the plot a—er—murder one?""Eventually, my lord. We will begin here in this very room, describing the house and the occasion, not forgetting the host. Our host, my lord, should make a fascinating study of a character given to—shall we say—to diplomatic methods?""Why not stretch a point and make him an unscrupulous rascal?" Lord Rashburn said dryly."That is a most excellent suggestion, my lord. We will go on to say that he has designs against my master; that he desires certain concessions that my master has promised elsewhere, say to a young Englishman who knows the past, and who, under an assumed name, is part of his suite. Sir Clement has a hold on my master, and I want to save him. In virtue of his office my master has in his possession a precious jewel called—called anything you like.""The Blue Stone of Ghan!" Rashburn cried incautiously. "I know all about that.""Let us call it a magic diamond," Harold smiled. "We must not be too realistic. After all said and done, this is no more than the plot of a story.""To be sure," Rashburn said hastily. "I had forgotten that. Pray go on.""My master is extravagant, which is a mild way of putting it. At the risk of losing everything, his head included, he raises money on the—er, diamond, pledges it, in fact, with a miserly old moneylender, who has a wife that he fairly dotes on. My master's enemies, including Sir Clement, and another called Count Lefroy, find this out. They cook up some story to the effect that the sacred—er, diamond is wanted to seal certain State papers. There, for the present, we must leave my master in the dilemma into which he has got himself and go forward, merely premising that he has promised to produce the stone and seal those documents to-morrow morning.""One of the most ingenious plots I have heard of for a long while," Rashburn murmured."I flatter myself that the best part is to come," Harold proceeded. "My suggestion is that the moneylender should be seen and asked to let us have the stone for an hour or two, and add two thousand pounds to his charges. We called for that purpose, and the old man thinks we want the gem back. He is in such a state of pitiable terror when we call, that instantly I know that he has parted with the stone. From what he says its recovery is only a question of a few hours. He says something about the stone and the Bank of England, but that is all nonsense. I guess what he has done. He has lent the stone to somebody, and I also have a shrewd guess who that somebody is. Then I suggest that we come here.""Capital!" Rashburn cried. "You are interesting me exceedingly. Go on.""We come here. And here we find that a great sensation has been created by a lady who is dubbed the lady of the ru—I mean the queen of the diamonds. She is the wife of the great financier my master and I have been so recently interviewing. Remember he is old and senile, and dotes on her. It is inevitable that he has lent her the great diamond as a kind of glorious finish to her toilette.""In fact, we may assume that you have seen it blazing on her—shall we say forehead?" Rashburn asked."You have guessed it exactly, my lord," Harold went on. "Here, then, is a beautiful complication—my master has to get the gem back, and incidentally is ready to commit murder to do so; here is the host who may come along at any time, and recognise the gem. That is as far as I have developed the story as yet, but I might at this point bring in yourself and your Government and make an international matter of it. If this thing leaks out, the Shan, who is favourable to England, goes, and his cousin, who is from Russia, steps on to the throne. Would it be fair to ask the Government to lend my master two hundred thousand pounds under the circumstances?"Lord Rashburn glanced admiringly into the face of his companion, and shook his head."It would be a foolish thing to mention the affair directly to the Foreign Secretary at all. Officially I could not listen to you for a moment. I can only listen to you now because I am interested in stories of any light kind. But if you are asking my advice purely to get your local colour right——""That's it," Harold said eagerly. "If it were true, which is the proper course to pursue?""I see you are a born novelist," Rashburn smiled shrewdly. "Well, in these matters there are intermediaries, rich men who are ready to sacrifice their purse for their country. Most of these men have strong claims on the Government of the day. Some of them become Commissioners, of this, that, and the other, and have letters after their names. Some become baronets, or even members of the Upper House. There is Mr. Gerald Parkford, for instance. He is over there talking to the lady in the yellow satin. I understand that he is deeply interested in problems of this kind, and has frequently done the State some service, at a considerable loss to himself. Some day his wife will wear a coronet. Purely out of regard for your story I will introduce you to Parkford, and then you will be able to bring the tale to a logical conclusion. Of course you will see that if this were anything but fiction it would have been a gross impertinence of you to have mentioned it to me.""Of course, my lord," Harold said humbly, and carefully avoiding Rashburn's eyes. "If your lordship will be so kind as to make me known to Mr. Parkford——""I will do that with the greatest possible pleasure. I shall catch his eye presently. Ah, I thought so."The little keen, brown-faced man opposite looked up presently, and at a sign from Rashburn excused himself to his fair companion, and crossed the floor. Rashburn explained the situation in a few words."I understand you are fond of adventures of this kind," he said. "For the sake of my friend here, and for the sake of his book, you will give him the benefit of your advice. My dear young friend, I am quite fascinated by your interesting story. Good night."Rashburn turned upon his heel in the most natural manner, and plunged at once into a flirtation with a pretty girl in pink. Nobody would have guessed that he had just listened to a thrilling piece of information that might mean a new move for him in his Eastern policy. The little keen-eyed man looked at Harold and nodded his head interrogatively."Of course, Rashburn has to play his game," he said. "It would never do for him to know anything about the thing officially, unless the Shan approached him personally, which is not in the least likely. Because, you see, we have got to get that ruby back—no reason to split hairs between you and I—and by fair means or foul. Personally, I should prefer to settle the business on prosaic business lines—go to Benstein very late, tell him we know everything, and tender him a cheque for the money and bring away the ruby on an authority from the Shan to do so.""Not a written authority," Harold said hastily."Of course not. You could come along if you liked. That's one way of settling the business out of hand. A day or two after, Rashburn would ask me how the story was going on, and I should say that I had showed you a flaw in it, and that as the money had been forthcoming the affair was finished on much too matter-of-fact lines to give an interesting finish. He would understand.""And his diplomacy would be unspotted," Harold smiled. "But I fancy we are not going to be allowed to finish quite in this light-hearted way. We have Frobisher to deal with—Frobisher who suggested that Mrs. Benstein should appear in the role of the Queen of the Rubies. He knew that Benstein had the Blue Stone; he knew that Mrs. Benstein is in the habit of borrowing gems left with her husband for security; and he calculated on her borrowing that pearl amongst rubies for to-night. Do you suppose, knowing Frobisher's character, that he means that stone to leave the house?""I know that he is an utterly unscrupulous scoundrel," Parkford said freely. "Oh, he is quite capable of this kind of thing. Do you happen to know anything of Miss Lyne?""I am engaged to be married to her," Harold said quietly.The little brown-faced man whistled softly, but his features expressed no astonishment."I thought your English was uncommonly good for a native," he said. "Of course, I know all about you now. My wife, who knows the history of everybody in London, I believe, told me about Harold Denvers and Miss Lyne, and how you had been forbidden the house and all that kind of thing. I seem to remember, too, that at one time your father and Frobisher were by the way of being friends.""To my father's cost," Harold said with some little bitterness. "He robbed and ruined my father, and he died a broken man. That was before Frobisher put money in his purse by so shamefully abusing his position in the diplomatic service. As to Miss Lyne——""Miss Lyne may be of the greatest possible service to us," Parkford said."She is of use at the present moment," Harold said. "Of course she knows I am here and why, though I should be kicked out of the house if discovered. Miss Lyne is keeping Mrs. Benstein out of the way for the moment—out of Frobisher's way, that is."Parkford jerked his thumb over his right shoulder and nodded. As Harold looked up he saw the shifting figure of Frobisher passing through the crowd. His eyes were narrow and eager, he seemed to be looking furtively and greedily for some one."The bloodhound is astir," Parkford muttered. "We must cross his trail without delay."CHAPTER XVII.A FRIEND IN NEED.Angela took her place by Mrs. Benstein's side as if they had been friends of standing. She had a game to play, and not too many instructions as to how it was to be played, but, at the same time, she was strangely moved to the financier's wife. In spite of her beauty and intelligence there was an atmosphere about her that was just a little pathetic. She reminded Angela of some white mountain-peak stretching away far above its fellows, solitary, beautiful and alone.The light shimmered upon her jewels as they gently heaved upon her breast. Her fine eyes were just a little interrogative as they turned upon Angela."It is very good of you to interest yourself in me," she said. "I wonder why you do it?"Angela coloured slightly; after all, her attentions were not quite disinterested."Perhaps it is because you fascinate me," Angela said frankly. "I have never seen any one like you before. I love character. And yet, you seem quite lonely, as if you were apart from the rest.""Well, so I am," Isa Benstein replied. "The men on occasions like this count for nothing. I never see a lot of men crowded round a pretty woman without a strong temptation to laugh. They look so foolish. And yet your women here rather avoid me—they are not quite sure of my position. But I could lead the whole lot of them if I chose to do so."Angela did not doubt it. She had only to look in that beautiful face and see that the boast was no idle one. The brilliant light died out of the speaker's eyes."But what is the good of it?" she said. "I don't believe there is any society worthy of the name to-day. Money seems to be everything. Your poor aristocrat sneers at the monied people. But ain't they just as ostentatious themselves! Don't they rob their creditors and neglect their bills to appear like other people? It seems such a dreadfully snobbish thing to do."The fine eyes were looking round contemptuously, the breastplate of rubies heaved slowly. The words sounded strange from one so superbly attired, and Mrs. Benstein laughed as she caught Angela's smile."You are thinking that I am no better than the rest," she went on. "Well, perhaps not. But, then, my plumes are borrowed ones. You see my husband is what is called a money-lender. There are lots of great ladies here to-night who come to him for assistance, they bring their jewels and he lends them money. I am wearing nearly all borrowed plumes to-night."Angela gave a little gasp at the audacity of the confession."Oh, of course it is wrong," Mrs. Benstein proceeded. "It's like a laundress who keeps back a silk blouse from somebody else's washing to wear on a Sunday. I've done that myself."Angela listened in dazed fascination. Such a confession from one so stately and beautiful was amazing."You have learnt the art of jesting with a perfectly serious face," she suggested."My dear, I am telling you the exact truth. I suppose it is the impish spirit in my blood that prompts me to do such things. In the day of my early Sunday holidays things were different. But you can't expect a high morality in a little Shoreditch second-hand clothes shop.""You will tell me that you served in one next," Angela laughed."My dear, I did," was the reply. "Do you know, I have not the slightest idea who my parents are. All I know is that I am not a Jewess, though I was brought up as one. I used to run about the streets. I grew up somehow. And then I drifted into that shop. I educated myself pretty well, for the simple reason that I cannot forget anything. My husband took me away and married me. I would have married any one to get away from that blighting desolation. I was going mad for the want of colour and brightness in my life. And—and there you are.""Nobody could possibly tell that you have not been used to this life always," Angela said. "There have been jealous eyes round you to-night, but they found no flaw.""I had no intention of them finding a flaw," Mrs. Benstein said coolly. "I have intuition and observation. And yet, till this very night, I have never sat and chatted with a lady before. I like you, Miss Lyne, and I would do anything for you. I like your kind face and those thoughtful eyes."Angela was glad to hear it. The confession made her task all the easier."I am going to ask you to help me," she said. "I felt sure from the first that I could rely upon you. May I not be personal just for a little longer? You say your plumes are borrowed ones. Have you any idea of the identity of the ruby you are wearing on your forehead?""Not the least. My husband never mentions his clients by name—or, at least, very seldom. I took a fancy to this stone as a kind of climax to my costume, and with great reluctance my husband let me have it. Your eyes are telling me strange things, Miss Lyne.""My tongue is going to tell you stranger," Angela whispered. "To think that you should be ignorant of the fact that you are wearing the sacred Blue Stone of Ghan.""The Shan of Koordstan's Royal gem!" Mrs. Benstein exclaimed. "Oh, I know all about that. There is very little underground political history that I don't know. Koordstan and the Cardinal Moth and the—the rest of it. Our host to-night would give me something for the stone.""Our host of to-night means to have it," Angela said under her breath."I see, I see. What an intellect the man has! It was he who persuaded me to come as Queen of the Rubies. For his own ends he got me invited here. He felt pretty sure that my husband would let me have the Blue Stone to wear. I am in danger.""I don't think you are exactly in danger," Angela said."Oh, yes, I am. You don't know everything, I can see. The Shan of Koordstan is here to-night.""He is here with one of his suite called Aben Abdullah, who, by the way, is my beloved one in disguise. He is Harold Denvers, who is aiding the Shan.""A romance, a veritable romance, with danger and difficulties clinging to it like an aroma. So I am to play the part of one of Sir Clement's puppets! We shall see. Now tell me everything."Angela proceeded to explain that she was going much beyond Harold Denvers' hurried instructions. But from the first her instinct had told her that she could make a friend of the woman. She concealed nothing, she spoke of the difficult position of the Shan, and what Harold had to gain by a recovery of the sacred jewel."I'm glad you told me," Mrs. Benstein said slowly. "Very glad. But there is more danger here than you anticipate, danger to me and to all of us. Sir Clement Frobisher is one of the greatest scoundrels on earth; he is cunning into the bargain, a perfect master of trickery and intrigue. Do you know anything of the Cardinal Moth?"Angela shook her head. She was practically ignorant on that point. Mrs. Benstein indicated the nodding, trembling spray of blossom on her breast."These flowers are in it," she said. "The Cardinal Moth must play its part with the rest. There will be no rest until the Moth is back again over the altar in the temple of Ghan. You wonder perhaps how I know all these things, but the blood of all nations contrives to make the mystery that is called Isa Benstein. Now I want you to bring General Pearson to me; I want you to stay here whilst we go away for a dance together. Sir Clement, and perhaps another man, will be looking for me. Say that I shall be back here in ten minutes to see you. You need say no more than that."Angela went away, wondering but obedient. The handsome old soldier would be delighted. He had been looking for his next partner for a long time. He was quite distracted by her absence. They walked away together, leaving Angela behind. Presently in the distance she could see the figure of Frobisher wandering in and out of the crowd. Angela walked smiling up to him."Hide-and-seek," she cried gaily. "You are looking for somebody?""Even the Queen of the Rubies," Frobisher responded in a similar strain. "A handsome reward will be paid to anybody giving information as to her present whereabouts.""You may keep your beloved money," Angela said. "I am above such things. Mrs. Benstein is dancing with General Pearson, and in ten minutes she has asked me to meet her under the lamps yonder. And here comes Count Lefroy, as if he were looking for somebody, too."Angela slipped away as Lefroy came up, showing his teeth in a queer, uneasy smile. He was trembling, too, as if he had run a long distance. Frobisher suppressed a disposition to snarl."You have finished, then?" he asked. "My rubies were worthy of a closer inspection.""And would have had the closer inspection only Lady Frobisher was called away," Lefroy replied. "Her ladyship would have left me alone with them but I implored her not to place so fierce a temptation in my way. She does not know that I share your passion for those stones, especially large ones.""Like the Blue Stone of Ghan, for instance?" said Frobisher, with a sharp indrawing of his breath. "It would be good to get hold of that, eh?"Lefroy's eyes grew a trifle harder and more uneasy. He seemed to be miserably uncertain in his mind, divided in opinion as to whether he should stay where he was or go away on some errand of his own. The crowd became slightly more thick as the strains of music ceased and the dance came to an end. In spite of everything, the rooms were growing unpleasantly warm, and the guests were seeking cool corners. Mrs. Benstein came presently, leaning on the arm of her military escort. Her face was turned away, so that neither of the two men watching her could see her features.Lefroy drew a deep, long breath. The time had come, he would have to stand up and fight Frobisher, the secret that he had half deemed his own was on the verge of exposure."Mrs. Benstein is going into the conservatory," he said meaningly. "I propose to follow her wise example and do the same thing. A sybarite like you does not care for robust air. I presume, therefore, that you are going to stay where you are."Frobisher hooked his arm quite affectionately through that of his companion."On the contrary, I feel that a tonic would do me good," he said sweetly. "I am distressed for your sake. There is a nervousness about you to-night that alarms me; I could not enjoy myself thinking about it. What should I do, where should I be without my Lefroy? Orestes and Pylades, Damon and Pythiaset hoc, where are you all alongside of Lefroy and Frobisher?"He led the way into the conservatory close to where Mrs. Benstein and her companion were seated. By accident or design, Isa Benstein had her back to them. She seemed to be chatting gaily and without a trouble in the world to the General, who rose presently and proceeded back in the direction of the ballroom on ices bent. Then Mrs. Benstein rose and sauntered to the door of the conservatory. Both the men there watched her breathlessly—the time had come, and they both of them knew it.She wheeled round suddenly as if conscious of their presence and smiled gloriously."I am admiring the flowers," she said. "They are exquisite. But I must have a word with Miss Lyne, whom I see in the distance. If my distracted General misses me, pray tell him that I shall be back at once. I trust you to do this for me, Sir Clement?"Frobisher nodded with his mouth wide open, even he felt at a loss for words. There stood the lady of the rubies, her dress glistening with the gems, but her fair broad brow was clear as day, there was no vestige of a stone to mar its pure symmetry."It's a wonderfully warm night," Frobisher gasped."Sultry," Lefroy said meaningly, "very sultry. Deprives you of your wits, doesn't it? Weren't you saying something just now about the Blue Stone of Ghan? Or did I dream it? Come along.""Where to?" Frobisher asked, like a man in a dream."Why, to the smoking-room, to be sure," Lefroy said with polite mockery. "As you told me just now with such tender consideration for others, you are not quite yourself. A little brandy, the brandy you know, and a small soda. You seem to want it badly.""Egad," Frobisher burst out bitterly; "egad, I fancy we both do!"CHAPTER XVIII.A DEFENSIVE ALLIANCE.Lefroy's face, on the whole, was the more composed of the two. It was not often, in public at any rate, that Frobisher allowed his passion to get the better of him, but for the moment he was utterly taken aback. He had planned his scheme so neatly, the whole cunning skein had reeled off so splendidly that the startling disappointment was all the more maddening."Nothing like the old brandy," Lefroy sneered. "You will find it a sovereign cure."But Frobisher was recovering himself slowly. He was not the man to show his hand for long. The dry, hard smile was on his face now, the passionate desire to hurt something had passed away. Ignoring Lefroy's remark, he passed on in the direction of Mrs. Benstein."I have been looking for you everywhere," he said. "One does not usually have to hunt for the sun, but in this case the planet would seem to be a retiring one. Does my house afford such poor attraction that you should bore yourself in this lovely spot?""I am not in the least bored," Mrs. Benstein said, with one of her most brilliant smiles. "On the contrary, I have been enjoying myself immensely. I am merely resting."Frobisher said something appropriate. Nobody could do that kind of thing better when the mood was upon him. At the same time, his deep-set eyes were looking for signs, that might be conspired into something useful. Lefroy contented himself by standing behind and smiling vaguely."Your gems are all I expected them to be," Frobisher went on. "I felt certain that rubies would suit you to perfection. But you want something, a certain finish. A star or cluster on the forehead to finish. Don't you agree with me, Count?"He flashed a wicked grin at Lefroy, who said nothing. Isa Benstein gave no sign. She smiled as she arranged the flowers, the Crimson Moth that seemed to fascinate Lefroy."I thought so at first," she said. "In fact, I was wearing something of the kind when I came here. But on mature consideration I decided that it looked too overpowering. Several of your splendid mirrors confirmed that impression; consequently, I removed it.""It is in a safe place, I trust?" Lefroy said carelessly."Really, I suppose so. Not that it matters, seeing that it is of no particular value. It was the only sham thing that I had about me. It is with my fan somewhere."Lefroy urged the point no further. It was not policy to say too much. The two men went off together presently, as Isa Benstein was claimed for another dance."The man who finds that fan will be lucky," the Count said meaningly."The man who finds that fan will find nothing else," Frobisher replied. "How on earth it has happened I don't know, but that woman has discovered everything. Did you see her face as we were leaving? I did. She came here in blissful ignorance of the little comedy or tragedy, or whatever you like to call it; but she has had a warning from somebody since supper. Lord bless you, she knows all about it. We couldn't ask any prying questions without arousing her suspicions, though I am of opinion that she is quite aware of the way that she has baffled us. Oh, she is a clever woman.""Clever as they make them. But she is only a woman, after all, my friend, and liable to make mistakes like the rest of her sex. She has got that stone about her."Frobisher's eyes gleamed. He had been thinking much the same thing. Followed by Lefroy, he repaired to the smoking-room and proffered his hospitality. For some time the Count smoked and drank in silence, waiting for a lead from his host. There was bound to be some kind of explanation between them, and Lefroy preferred the lead to come from the other."Silence is golden," Frobisher said, with one of his sudden grins."In this case," the other said. "Perhaps you would like to deal the first hand. I shall sit tight for the present.""I fancy it is my play," Frobisher said thoughtfully. "Fate and the other players push us a long way off our line of policy sometimes. For instance, I never imagined that I should be dragged into an offensive and defensive alliance with you. But for the present it is absolutely necessary. We must get that precious gew-gew——""Call it the sacred Blue Stone of Ghan and have done with it," Lefroy growled."Very well, though it is hardly diplomacy. Mrs. Benstein came here wearing the Blue Stone. You found it out quite by accident, and it was your game to prevent me from knowing. You tried very hard, but you were a little too much taken by surprise, especially when the Shan was announced.""That was a very awkward moment for me," Lefroy admitted."It was. Directly you came in here I guessed exactly what had happened. As a matter of fact, I had not the least intention of your coming here to-night, indeed I didn't know you were coming. As a matter of fact, also, my wife cordially dislikes you, and I suppose she only asked you out of compliment to me.""We'll let that pass," Lefroy said. "I was startled when Mrs. Benstein dropped her mask and the Blue Stone stood revealed. Of course, I knew that the stone was pledged to Benstein, and that Mrs. Benstein having it was natural enough. The doting old fool had been wheedled out of it for the evening. But I didn't know that you knew that, and I was most anxious to keep the information from you. But directly I came face to face with you here, I knew that you had some deep scheme, and that you guessed that I had got wind of it. I have worked that out."Frobisher smoked and sipped his brandy with infinite relish."I always like to study a subtle mind, Count," he said. "Will you explain your meaning?""Certainly, especially as I shall lose nothing by so doing. Why did you get your wife to ask that woman here at all? I knew you had to use something like force to bring it about. You did it because you knew where the Blue Stone was. You advised Mrs. Benstein as to her dress, you gave her hints on that head. You were quite aware of the extent of Benstein's senile devotion to his wife. And you calculated that if she adopted the ruby suggestion she would borrow the Blue Stone.""Excellent," Frobisher said cordially. "A capital piece of reasoning. And a very pretty scheme, though I say it myself. It came off, and only your presence prevented my coup. Pray go on.""There isn't much more to say. Once Mrs. Benstein was here wearing the Blue Stone, you had no intention of her leaving with the gem in her possession. I don't mean to say that you would have used brutal force to get it, but I do mean to say that you would not have hesitated at that if needs must. Once you had the stone you would have forced those concessions from the Shan.""And exposed the forged ones that you deposited with Benstein," Frobisher said sweetly.Lefroy winced, and the glass chattered against his teeth. He had not expected that stroke, and his dark face indicated the fact for a brief moment."That is certainly one to you," he said. "Only that is not the point for the present. The point is, that your plot has failed, that the woman who came here to-day wearing the Blue Stone out of pure vanity and with no kind ofarrière penséewhatever, has been warned of her danger, which she has promptly removed. She knows pretty well everything—the way she received us showed that. She is an exceedingly clever woman, and has a shrewd idea how to take care of herself. Has she got the stone still?"Frobisher nodded gravely. Lefroy's point was worthy of consideration."You mean, has she passed it on to somebody else?" he said. "She might have done that, but I don't fancy so, and I'll tell you why. She has seen enough of the world to teach her not to trust anybody. Naturally enough, she does not want her husband to be ruined, as would be the case unless the stone was restored to Benstein's safe keeping without delay, and so she would trust to her own shrewdness to get away without robbery. On the whole, she has not parted with the stone."A little reflection assured Lefroy of the soundness of this reasoning. The thing resolved itself into a game of hide-and-seek with a fortune at the end of it with any luck. Up to a certain point these men were compelled to act together, but the alliance might end at any time."I can't very well abduct Mrs. Benstein till she parts with the gem," he said."No, we can't do it, but we might find somebody who could," Frobisher smiled. "There's the Shan's minister and treacherous servant, Hamid Khan, for instance. He has scant respect for the laws of this or any other country, and he knows quite well that his master has parted with the stone. If we could put our hands upon the amiable Hamid at this moment——""Nothing is easier. Hamid is watching in Piccadilly at this very moment.""So you have got a little scheme afoot, too," Frobisher laughed. "Upon my word I need all my wits to enable me to get the better of you, Count. How long has this been going on?""Ever since the stone left the Shan's possession. Ever since then he has been dogged and watched. Let me go and call Hamid in to our discussion. He knows what has happened, for I scribbled a few lines on a sheet of paper just now when I left your wife, and handed it to one of the smaller spies who are loafing outside. The night is hot, and our absence will not be noticed. Now slip on our coats and assume to be going to smoke a cigar in the garden. From thence we reach Piccadilly by the back way, and surprise Hamid in his dreary vigil. Then he comes back with us here. What do you say?"Frobisher nodded gleefully; it was an intrigue after his own heart. They passed into the cool air of the garden, and from thence into the narrow lane at the back of the house. It was very late now, and Piccadilly was growing quiet, so that the few lounging figures there were easily seen. A slender, brown-faced man in a dust coat and evening dress came along smoking a cigarette. He did not appear to be in the least interested in anything only for his restless eyes."I want you," Lefroy said. "There's work to be done, Hamid.""Indeed, I am glad to hear that," said the other in a remarkably English tone of voice. "I'm getting sick to death of this eternal loafing. But Sir Clement Frobisher and Count Lefroy together! My dear Count, what are you doing in that galley?""Any galley is good enough when your own has been temporarily wrecked," Lefroy growled. "But ask no questions for the present and come with us."They went back again presently in the smoking-room without having attracted the least attention, or so at least Sir Clement Frobisher flattered himself. It would never do for the Shan to know of Hamid Khan's presence in the house. But there were other watchful eyes besides those of the Shan of Koordstan. Mrs. Benstein had seen the two men go into the garden, and she had seen three return. She was not quite quick enough to get sight of the third, but she had a pretty shrewd idea who he was. She waited till she could have a word with Angela."I want you to do something for me, at once," she said. "Sir Clement Frobisher and Count Lefroy are in the private smoking-room with a third person. I want you to open the door and rush in with Sir Clement's name upon your lips as if you are in a hurry for something. Then you can stammer an apology and close the door behind you. The great thing is to get a quick mental photograph of the third person."Angela nodded, she wasted no time in idle questions. In the most natural fashion she burst open the door and fluttered into the smoking-room, calling upon Frobisher as she did so. Then she stammered an apology and gently closed the door again. The third person had been seated directly opposite to her so that she had a perfect view of his face."I see you were perfectly successful," Mrs. Benstein said."Oh, absolutely," Angela replied. "It is a slender man with a deep mahogany face and curly hair, quite a handsome Asiatic, in fact; but what struck me more were his eyes, which are a clear light blue. Fancy, blue eyes in a face like that!""Capital," Mrs. Benstein murmured. "It is exactly as I expected. No, I am not going to say any more for the present, because I don't want to spoil your enjoyment. Now go off and flirt with that handsome young fraud, called Aben Abdullah, when you have the chance. Only don't go where I shall have to hunt for you in case of dire necessity."
CHAPTER XV.
HUNT THE SLIPPER.
A fine perspiration stood out on Lefroy's face, he swayed to and fro like one in an advanced stage of intoxication, the Count was utterly unmanned for the moment. As his brain and eye cleared presently, Frobisher came out of the mist in the semblance of a man who was manifestly enjoying himself.
"I pray you sit down," he said in his silkiest manner. "My dear Count, the heat has been too much for you. The hero of a thousand adventures succumbs to a high thermometer—it is possible to choke a Hercules with an orange pip. A little of the old brandy, eh?"
Frobisher's face was perfectly grave now, only the dilation of his pupils and the faint quivering of his lips denoted his amusement. Lefroy forced a smile in reply. He was conscious of the fact that that little demon opposite was reading his inmost thoughts.
"Just a little of the brandy," Frobisher said coaxingly. "The kind that I keep for my very dear friends. Ah, I am sure that is better. Now let us sit down and smoke, and forget the giddy side outside."
Lefroy nodded. The course suggested suited him admiringly. When he was best pleased Frobisher chatted most, and he seemed to be exceedingly pleased about something now. Lefroy would have time to recover his scattered thoughts and define some line of action.
"You have solved the problem of the lady of the rubies?" Sir Clement asked.
"I have," Lefroy replied carelessly. "From a romantic point of view the solution is disappointing. I expected to see a regal personage at the very least, whereas——"
The speaker shrugged his shoulders insolently. The other smiled expectantly.
"Go on, my dear Lefroy. I am all attention, I assure you. The lady of the rubies is——?"
It was on the tip of Lefroy's tongue to snarlingly reply that Frobisher knew perfectly well, but that was bad policy under the circumstances.
"You are typical of the spirit of the age," he said. "All the same, I hardly expected to see the wife of a moneylender under your roof. Lady Frobisher——"
"Has progressed rapidly of late in the cult of the proletariat. So Mrs. Benstein is the lady of the rubies. I half expected it from the first—only the wife of a moneylender could sport jewels like that. But she is a beautiful woman, Lefroy, and she is going to make a great social success."
Lefroy could only mutter something in reply. He had one great aim in view at the present moment—to get back to the ballroom and persuade Frobisher to remain where he was. Did the Count but know it, Frobisher was just as eager to reverse the order of the procedure. But no suggestion of this escaped him, he sat there smiling as if he and a double meaning were strangers.
"I am very partial to rubies myself," he said. "In a modest way I am a collector, and my uncut stones are worth an inspection. My wife also has the same weakness, which is another of the many strong bonds that bind us together. I'll show them to you."
"Don't trouble," Lefroy said hastily. "Any other time will do. If you have to fetch them——"
"Sit down. Positively you must have another drop of the brandy. Your nerves are better, but not what the nerves of a bold warrior should be."
So saying, Frobisher produced a case from a drawer and laid the contents before Lefroy's eyes. In spite of himself he could not but admire. He did not see the keen, alert look on the face of his host as he bent down to examine the gems. People were passing the open door; there was a light ripple of laughter and conversation. Frobisher darted into the hall.
"This way a moment," he whispered, as he caught his wife by the arm. "Come with me and do as I tell you. You are to keep Lefroy in yonder room for half an hour."
He was back again before Lefroy had missed him. Lady Frobisher's scornful eyes softened as they fell upon the tray of gems.
"We have a taste in common, then, Count," she said.
Lefroy replied suitably enough. He had a strong admiration for the white, cold beauty of this woman; he watched her slim fingers as she toyed with the gems. Some of them were unnamed, whilst others had histories of their own. Frobisher pitched his cigarette into the grate.
"You can amuse the Count, my dear," he said. "He has had some little touch of illness, and should be kept quiet. The gems will interest him. Meanwhile, I will endeavour to take your place."
It was all done so quickly and naturally that Lefroy could do or say nothing. Did Frobisher really know anything or not, he began to wonder. If there was any conspiracy Lady Frobisher knew nothing of it, it only needed a glance at that scornful, beautiful face to feel that. She was talking now easily and naturally enough with one of the stones in her pink palm, and Lefroy had perforce to listen. To leave the room now would have been an unpardonable rudeness—agaucherieLefroy never allowed himself to commit.
Meanwhile Frobisher had mingled with his guests. He was in no hurry. Lefroy was safely out of the way for a time, and Frobisher always preferred to hunt his game leisurely. Besides, the crush of dancers and guests generally was so great that progression was a matter of some difficulty. He came across Angela presently attired in white and with a pair of gauze wings suggestive of Peace or something of that kind.
"Stop a bit," he said, "and tell me all about it. Upon my word, you are looking exceedingly nice. By common consent, who is the success of the evening?"
"Oh, Mrs. Benstein, without doubt," Angela replied, with sincere admiration. "She is lovely, and those rubies are simply superb. Everybody is talking about them."
"And the fortunate woman herself? How does she wear her blushing honours?"
"Very well indeed. You know, I rather like her. Everybody is asking for an introduction now, but at first people held aloof. I have had a long chat with Mrs. Benstein, and she quite fascinated me. She is going to be a great success."
"Of course she is with her cleverness and audacity, to say nothing of her beauty and her jewels, it could not be otherwise. I must go and pay my respects to her. Where is she?"
But Angela had not the slightest idea. Something like a thousand people were scattered about the long suite of rooms, and there were shady alcoves and dim corners for easy conversationà deux. Mingled with the brilliant throng of uniform and fancy dresses the jewelled turban of the Shan of Koordstan stood out. He came up with his companion similarly attired, and held out his hand.
"This is an unexpected pleasure, your Highness," said Frobisher. "I heard that you were not quite——"
"Sober," the Shan said frankly. "I have been leading a deuce of a life lately, Frobisher. My servant here, Aben Abdullah, insisted upon my putting in an appearance here to-night. He has been bullying me as he would never dare to do at home. When we get back I shall have to bowstring him gently. He is a very valuable servant, but he knows too much."
Aben Abdullah bowed and smiled. The Shan extended his patronage to Angela.
"My servant knows a little English," he said. "My dear young lady, would it be too great a trespass on your kindness to ask you to act as his cicerone for a time? I have a little business to discuss with Sir Clement. Aben is very intelligent, and he is a noble in his own country."
Angela expressed her pleasure. She was always ready to sacrifice herself to others; besides, she had rather taken a fancy to this handsome young foreigner, who reminded her somehow of Harold Denvers.
"What would you like to do?" she asked, as they strolled off together.
Aben murmured something about the flowers that he had heard so much about. Could he see them? Angela would be delighted. They stood in a large conservatory at length in the dim light, and then Aben smiled down into Angela's face.
"I feel sure of my disguise now, darling," he whispered. "If I could deceive you, I am not in the least afraid that Sir Clement will find me out."
"But what does it mean, Harold?" Angela asked. "You certainly reminded me of yourself; but I should never have penetrated your disguise. But the Shan must know all about it."
"Of course he does. It is a little scheme that we have hatched together. I have no time to tell you everything now; indeed, with so clever a man to deal with as Frobisher it is far better that you should not know. But the Shan has done a very foolish thing, and his very throne is in danger. Both Frobisher and Lefroy know this, and they will do all they can to keep him under their control. If I can defeat that plot and free the Shan, then I need not trouble about the future."
Angela's eyes lighted up eagerly. All her quick sympathies had been interested.
"You will let me help you?" she exclaimed. "Harold, I am quite sure that you want my assistance. I am a great deal stronger and braver than you imagine. Try me."
"I am going to try you, my dear little girl," Harold whispered. "I should like to kiss you at this moment, but I dare not take any risks. For the present your task is a very simple one. I want you to get a certain lady in here and sit under the shaded lamp yonder. You must get here and keep her talking till I come back. If I hold up my two hands your task is finished; if I come forward, you must know that I want to speak to the lady alone."
"It all sounds very mysterious, Harold. Who is the lady?"
"They have christened her the lady of the rubies here. I was very pleased just now to hear that you had, so to speak, made friends with her. Will you go at once?"
Angela made off hurriedly, and, for the time being, Harold returned to the ballroom. On the whole, he was not particularly enamoured of the part he was playing: the idea of forcing himself into a house where he had been forbidden by the host was repugnant to his finer feelings; but, on the other hand, any scheme was worthy which had for its end the defeat of a scoundrel. As the Shan caught Harold's warning eye he left Frobisher and moved towards his ally.
"So far there is not much the matter," Harold replied. "Miss Lyne knows exactly what she has to do, and she will do it well. You are going to have a pretty big surprise just now, but whether it will turn out a pleasant one or the reverse I cannot say as yet. Stand here and pretend to be interested in the pictures."
Angela had been more successful in her search than Frobisher. A prosy peer had buttonholed his host and the latter could not get away for the present without using actual violence. Angela had found the lady of the rubies sitting in a dim corner alone. She looked a little dazed and tired.
"I am not used to it," she said frankly. "And I can't stand all their silly folly. I sent my partner for an ice on purpose to get rid of him. My dear young lady, you are very kind, and I've taken a great fancy to you because you are the first person I have spoken to to-night who is honest and true. All the same, I really want that ice, and if you can find some quiet corner——"
"I know the very thing," Angela cried eagerly, delighted at the way fate was playing into her hands. "Come along. There, what do you think of that? Sit down near the light and I'll go and get the ice."
Mrs. Benstein protested, but Angela was already out of earshot. The Shan and his companion were deeply engrossed in a pair of Romneys as Angela passed them.
"I have secured your bird," she whispered. "She is exactly where you asked me to place her."
Harold touched his companion on the arm, and they strolled away leisurely in the direction of the great conservatory. It was fairly quiet here, with few people about. Under the lamp sat a rarely beautiful woman whose dress from head to foot was one mass of rubies. Another one flamed across her forehead.
"What do you think of her?" Harold whispered. "And what do you think of that big stone that is attached to her forehead by those thin gold wires?"
The Shan started violently. He rubbed his hands across his red bloodshot eyes.
"The Blue Stone of Ghan," he whispered hoarsely. "By Allah, she is wearing the sacred jewel!"
CHAPTER XVI.
DIPLOMACY.
As the Shan stood there watching the graceful, unconscious form of Mrs. Benstein, a great rage seized him. In one moment his thin veneer of Western civilisation had vanished. He was Baserk, savage, hard and cruel, from his glittering eyes and long fingers that crooked as if on the woman's throat. He swayed against Denvers with the passion that thrilled him.
"Close in on her," he hissed. "Drag the jewel away. If you steal behind her and hold her by the throat——" He could say no more for the present. There was safety and freedom close to his hand, and only a frail woman between himself and his desires.
"Oh, rubbish!" Harold said coolly. "My good sir, you will kindly forget that you are the Shan of Koordstan for a moment, and recollect that you are a guest here. I can give a pretty shrewd guess how the stone came here—indeed, I should have been disappointed had I not seen it. Benstein is old and feeble, and he dotes on his wife. But there is a better way than yours. Can I trust you?"
The Shan nodded. He was recovering himself slowly.
"Then stay here, but do not be seen. Miss Lyne will be back presently, and she is on our side. Ah, here she comes. I have a few words to say to her."
Angela came up at the same moment, her eyes shining blue interrogation points. Harold drew her aside a little way and rapidly whispered a few words in her ear.
"Questions presently," he smiled. "We have only time for action now. Ask Mrs. Benstein to remain where she is, and say you will be back in a moment. Meanwhile, I must get you to present me to Lord Rashburn, the Foreign Secretary. Can you manage this?"
Angela was under the impression that she could manage this quite well. Rashburn was a close connection of Lady Frobisher, and a great admirer of her own; indeed, the handsome, courtly Foreign Secretary was an avowed admirer of the sex generally. It was some little time before Angela contrived to get possession of the great man and it required all her fascination to induce him to listen to the handsome young man who represented the Shan's suite.
"I'll give him five minutes," he said. "Where is the intelligent young foreigner?"
Harold came up at a sign from Angela. Lord Rashburn was courtly as usual, but bored. He particularly disliked intelligent young foreigners. He hoped that Aben Abdullah knew some English.
"I am English, my lord," Harold said coolly. "I assure you that I shall not bore you; indeed, I propose to interest you extremely. I heard your lordship in a recent speech observe that you derived a lot of good from reading healthy fiction; indeed, you went on to say that, under altered circumstances, you would have been an author yourself. I should like to discuss a little plot with you."
Rashburn was unaffectedly interested. Mystery and intrigue of any kind appealed to him; he was fond of building up stories from conventional surroundings. And there was some mystery here.
"Go on," he said, courteously. "I feel I shall be interested. In the first place, is the plot a—er—murder one?"
"Eventually, my lord. We will begin here in this very room, describing the house and the occasion, not forgetting the host. Our host, my lord, should make a fascinating study of a character given to—shall we say—to diplomatic methods?"
"Why not stretch a point and make him an unscrupulous rascal?" Lord Rashburn said dryly.
"That is a most excellent suggestion, my lord. We will go on to say that he has designs against my master; that he desires certain concessions that my master has promised elsewhere, say to a young Englishman who knows the past, and who, under an assumed name, is part of his suite. Sir Clement has a hold on my master, and I want to save him. In virtue of his office my master has in his possession a precious jewel called—called anything you like."
"The Blue Stone of Ghan!" Rashburn cried incautiously. "I know all about that."
"Let us call it a magic diamond," Harold smiled. "We must not be too realistic. After all said and done, this is no more than the plot of a story."
"To be sure," Rashburn said hastily. "I had forgotten that. Pray go on."
"My master is extravagant, which is a mild way of putting it. At the risk of losing everything, his head included, he raises money on the—er, diamond, pledges it, in fact, with a miserly old moneylender, who has a wife that he fairly dotes on. My master's enemies, including Sir Clement, and another called Count Lefroy, find this out. They cook up some story to the effect that the sacred—er, diamond is wanted to seal certain State papers. There, for the present, we must leave my master in the dilemma into which he has got himself and go forward, merely premising that he has promised to produce the stone and seal those documents to-morrow morning."
"One of the most ingenious plots I have heard of for a long while," Rashburn murmured.
"I flatter myself that the best part is to come," Harold proceeded. "My suggestion is that the moneylender should be seen and asked to let us have the stone for an hour or two, and add two thousand pounds to his charges. We called for that purpose, and the old man thinks we want the gem back. He is in such a state of pitiable terror when we call, that instantly I know that he has parted with the stone. From what he says its recovery is only a question of a few hours. He says something about the stone and the Bank of England, but that is all nonsense. I guess what he has done. He has lent the stone to somebody, and I also have a shrewd guess who that somebody is. Then I suggest that we come here."
"Capital!" Rashburn cried. "You are interesting me exceedingly. Go on."
"We come here. And here we find that a great sensation has been created by a lady who is dubbed the lady of the ru—I mean the queen of the diamonds. She is the wife of the great financier my master and I have been so recently interviewing. Remember he is old and senile, and dotes on her. It is inevitable that he has lent her the great diamond as a kind of glorious finish to her toilette."
"In fact, we may assume that you have seen it blazing on her—shall we say forehead?" Rashburn asked.
"You have guessed it exactly, my lord," Harold went on. "Here, then, is a beautiful complication—my master has to get the gem back, and incidentally is ready to commit murder to do so; here is the host who may come along at any time, and recognise the gem. That is as far as I have developed the story as yet, but I might at this point bring in yourself and your Government and make an international matter of it. If this thing leaks out, the Shan, who is favourable to England, goes, and his cousin, who is from Russia, steps on to the throne. Would it be fair to ask the Government to lend my master two hundred thousand pounds under the circumstances?"
Lord Rashburn glanced admiringly into the face of his companion, and shook his head.
"It would be a foolish thing to mention the affair directly to the Foreign Secretary at all. Officially I could not listen to you for a moment. I can only listen to you now because I am interested in stories of any light kind. But if you are asking my advice purely to get your local colour right——"
"That's it," Harold said eagerly. "If it were true, which is the proper course to pursue?"
"I see you are a born novelist," Rashburn smiled shrewdly. "Well, in these matters there are intermediaries, rich men who are ready to sacrifice their purse for their country. Most of these men have strong claims on the Government of the day. Some of them become Commissioners, of this, that, and the other, and have letters after their names. Some become baronets, or even members of the Upper House. There is Mr. Gerald Parkford, for instance. He is over there talking to the lady in the yellow satin. I understand that he is deeply interested in problems of this kind, and has frequently done the State some service, at a considerable loss to himself. Some day his wife will wear a coronet. Purely out of regard for your story I will introduce you to Parkford, and then you will be able to bring the tale to a logical conclusion. Of course you will see that if this were anything but fiction it would have been a gross impertinence of you to have mentioned it to me."
"Of course, my lord," Harold said humbly, and carefully avoiding Rashburn's eyes. "If your lordship will be so kind as to make me known to Mr. Parkford——"
"I will do that with the greatest possible pleasure. I shall catch his eye presently. Ah, I thought so."
The little keen, brown-faced man opposite looked up presently, and at a sign from Rashburn excused himself to his fair companion, and crossed the floor. Rashburn explained the situation in a few words.
"I understand you are fond of adventures of this kind," he said. "For the sake of my friend here, and for the sake of his book, you will give him the benefit of your advice. My dear young friend, I am quite fascinated by your interesting story. Good night."
Rashburn turned upon his heel in the most natural manner, and plunged at once into a flirtation with a pretty girl in pink. Nobody would have guessed that he had just listened to a thrilling piece of information that might mean a new move for him in his Eastern policy. The little keen-eyed man looked at Harold and nodded his head interrogatively.
"Of course, Rashburn has to play his game," he said. "It would never do for him to know anything about the thing officially, unless the Shan approached him personally, which is not in the least likely. Because, you see, we have got to get that ruby back—no reason to split hairs between you and I—and by fair means or foul. Personally, I should prefer to settle the business on prosaic business lines—go to Benstein very late, tell him we know everything, and tender him a cheque for the money and bring away the ruby on an authority from the Shan to do so."
"Not a written authority," Harold said hastily.
"Of course not. You could come along if you liked. That's one way of settling the business out of hand. A day or two after, Rashburn would ask me how the story was going on, and I should say that I had showed you a flaw in it, and that as the money had been forthcoming the affair was finished on much too matter-of-fact lines to give an interesting finish. He would understand."
"And his diplomacy would be unspotted," Harold smiled. "But I fancy we are not going to be allowed to finish quite in this light-hearted way. We have Frobisher to deal with—Frobisher who suggested that Mrs. Benstein should appear in the role of the Queen of the Rubies. He knew that Benstein had the Blue Stone; he knew that Mrs. Benstein is in the habit of borrowing gems left with her husband for security; and he calculated on her borrowing that pearl amongst rubies for to-night. Do you suppose, knowing Frobisher's character, that he means that stone to leave the house?"
"I know that he is an utterly unscrupulous scoundrel," Parkford said freely. "Oh, he is quite capable of this kind of thing. Do you happen to know anything of Miss Lyne?"
"I am engaged to be married to her," Harold said quietly.
The little brown-faced man whistled softly, but his features expressed no astonishment.
"I thought your English was uncommonly good for a native," he said. "Of course, I know all about you now. My wife, who knows the history of everybody in London, I believe, told me about Harold Denvers and Miss Lyne, and how you had been forbidden the house and all that kind of thing. I seem to remember, too, that at one time your father and Frobisher were by the way of being friends."
"To my father's cost," Harold said with some little bitterness. "He robbed and ruined my father, and he died a broken man. That was before Frobisher put money in his purse by so shamefully abusing his position in the diplomatic service. As to Miss Lyne——"
"Miss Lyne may be of the greatest possible service to us," Parkford said.
"She is of use at the present moment," Harold said. "Of course she knows I am here and why, though I should be kicked out of the house if discovered. Miss Lyne is keeping Mrs. Benstein out of the way for the moment—out of Frobisher's way, that is."
Parkford jerked his thumb over his right shoulder and nodded. As Harold looked up he saw the shifting figure of Frobisher passing through the crowd. His eyes were narrow and eager, he seemed to be looking furtively and greedily for some one.
"The bloodhound is astir," Parkford muttered. "We must cross his trail without delay."
CHAPTER XVII.
A FRIEND IN NEED.
Angela took her place by Mrs. Benstein's side as if they had been friends of standing. She had a game to play, and not too many instructions as to how it was to be played, but, at the same time, she was strangely moved to the financier's wife. In spite of her beauty and intelligence there was an atmosphere about her that was just a little pathetic. She reminded Angela of some white mountain-peak stretching away far above its fellows, solitary, beautiful and alone.
The light shimmered upon her jewels as they gently heaved upon her breast. Her fine eyes were just a little interrogative as they turned upon Angela.
"It is very good of you to interest yourself in me," she said. "I wonder why you do it?"
Angela coloured slightly; after all, her attentions were not quite disinterested.
"Perhaps it is because you fascinate me," Angela said frankly. "I have never seen any one like you before. I love character. And yet, you seem quite lonely, as if you were apart from the rest."
"Well, so I am," Isa Benstein replied. "The men on occasions like this count for nothing. I never see a lot of men crowded round a pretty woman without a strong temptation to laugh. They look so foolish. And yet your women here rather avoid me—they are not quite sure of my position. But I could lead the whole lot of them if I chose to do so."
Angela did not doubt it. She had only to look in that beautiful face and see that the boast was no idle one. The brilliant light died out of the speaker's eyes.
"But what is the good of it?" she said. "I don't believe there is any society worthy of the name to-day. Money seems to be everything. Your poor aristocrat sneers at the monied people. But ain't they just as ostentatious themselves! Don't they rob their creditors and neglect their bills to appear like other people? It seems such a dreadfully snobbish thing to do."
The fine eyes were looking round contemptuously, the breastplate of rubies heaved slowly. The words sounded strange from one so superbly attired, and Mrs. Benstein laughed as she caught Angela's smile.
"You are thinking that I am no better than the rest," she went on. "Well, perhaps not. But, then, my plumes are borrowed ones. You see my husband is what is called a money-lender. There are lots of great ladies here to-night who come to him for assistance, they bring their jewels and he lends them money. I am wearing nearly all borrowed plumes to-night."
Angela gave a little gasp at the audacity of the confession.
"Oh, of course it is wrong," Mrs. Benstein proceeded. "It's like a laundress who keeps back a silk blouse from somebody else's washing to wear on a Sunday. I've done that myself."
Angela listened in dazed fascination. Such a confession from one so stately and beautiful was amazing.
"You have learnt the art of jesting with a perfectly serious face," she suggested.
"My dear, I am telling you the exact truth. I suppose it is the impish spirit in my blood that prompts me to do such things. In the day of my early Sunday holidays things were different. But you can't expect a high morality in a little Shoreditch second-hand clothes shop."
"You will tell me that you served in one next," Angela laughed.
"My dear, I did," was the reply. "Do you know, I have not the slightest idea who my parents are. All I know is that I am not a Jewess, though I was brought up as one. I used to run about the streets. I grew up somehow. And then I drifted into that shop. I educated myself pretty well, for the simple reason that I cannot forget anything. My husband took me away and married me. I would have married any one to get away from that blighting desolation. I was going mad for the want of colour and brightness in my life. And—and there you are."
"Nobody could possibly tell that you have not been used to this life always," Angela said. "There have been jealous eyes round you to-night, but they found no flaw."
"I had no intention of them finding a flaw," Mrs. Benstein said coolly. "I have intuition and observation. And yet, till this very night, I have never sat and chatted with a lady before. I like you, Miss Lyne, and I would do anything for you. I like your kind face and those thoughtful eyes."
Angela was glad to hear it. The confession made her task all the easier.
"I am going to ask you to help me," she said. "I felt sure from the first that I could rely upon you. May I not be personal just for a little longer? You say your plumes are borrowed ones. Have you any idea of the identity of the ruby you are wearing on your forehead?"
"Not the least. My husband never mentions his clients by name—or, at least, very seldom. I took a fancy to this stone as a kind of climax to my costume, and with great reluctance my husband let me have it. Your eyes are telling me strange things, Miss Lyne."
"My tongue is going to tell you stranger," Angela whispered. "To think that you should be ignorant of the fact that you are wearing the sacred Blue Stone of Ghan."
"The Shan of Koordstan's Royal gem!" Mrs. Benstein exclaimed. "Oh, I know all about that. There is very little underground political history that I don't know. Koordstan and the Cardinal Moth and the—the rest of it. Our host to-night would give me something for the stone."
"Our host of to-night means to have it," Angela said under her breath.
"I see, I see. What an intellect the man has! It was he who persuaded me to come as Queen of the Rubies. For his own ends he got me invited here. He felt pretty sure that my husband would let me have the Blue Stone to wear. I am in danger."
"I don't think you are exactly in danger," Angela said.
"Oh, yes, I am. You don't know everything, I can see. The Shan of Koordstan is here to-night."
"He is here with one of his suite called Aben Abdullah, who, by the way, is my beloved one in disguise. He is Harold Denvers, who is aiding the Shan."
"A romance, a veritable romance, with danger and difficulties clinging to it like an aroma. So I am to play the part of one of Sir Clement's puppets! We shall see. Now tell me everything."
Angela proceeded to explain that she was going much beyond Harold Denvers' hurried instructions. But from the first her instinct had told her that she could make a friend of the woman. She concealed nothing, she spoke of the difficult position of the Shan, and what Harold had to gain by a recovery of the sacred jewel.
"I'm glad you told me," Mrs. Benstein said slowly. "Very glad. But there is more danger here than you anticipate, danger to me and to all of us. Sir Clement Frobisher is one of the greatest scoundrels on earth; he is cunning into the bargain, a perfect master of trickery and intrigue. Do you know anything of the Cardinal Moth?"
Angela shook her head. She was practically ignorant on that point. Mrs. Benstein indicated the nodding, trembling spray of blossom on her breast.
"These flowers are in it," she said. "The Cardinal Moth must play its part with the rest. There will be no rest until the Moth is back again over the altar in the temple of Ghan. You wonder perhaps how I know all these things, but the blood of all nations contrives to make the mystery that is called Isa Benstein. Now I want you to bring General Pearson to me; I want you to stay here whilst we go away for a dance together. Sir Clement, and perhaps another man, will be looking for me. Say that I shall be back here in ten minutes to see you. You need say no more than that."
Angela went away, wondering but obedient. The handsome old soldier would be delighted. He had been looking for his next partner for a long time. He was quite distracted by her absence. They walked away together, leaving Angela behind. Presently in the distance she could see the figure of Frobisher wandering in and out of the crowd. Angela walked smiling up to him.
"Hide-and-seek," she cried gaily. "You are looking for somebody?"
"Even the Queen of the Rubies," Frobisher responded in a similar strain. "A handsome reward will be paid to anybody giving information as to her present whereabouts."
"You may keep your beloved money," Angela said. "I am above such things. Mrs. Benstein is dancing with General Pearson, and in ten minutes she has asked me to meet her under the lamps yonder. And here comes Count Lefroy, as if he were looking for somebody, too."
Angela slipped away as Lefroy came up, showing his teeth in a queer, uneasy smile. He was trembling, too, as if he had run a long distance. Frobisher suppressed a disposition to snarl.
"You have finished, then?" he asked. "My rubies were worthy of a closer inspection."
"And would have had the closer inspection only Lady Frobisher was called away," Lefroy replied. "Her ladyship would have left me alone with them but I implored her not to place so fierce a temptation in my way. She does not know that I share your passion for those stones, especially large ones."
"Like the Blue Stone of Ghan, for instance?" said Frobisher, with a sharp indrawing of his breath. "It would be good to get hold of that, eh?"
Lefroy's eyes grew a trifle harder and more uneasy. He seemed to be miserably uncertain in his mind, divided in opinion as to whether he should stay where he was or go away on some errand of his own. The crowd became slightly more thick as the strains of music ceased and the dance came to an end. In spite of everything, the rooms were growing unpleasantly warm, and the guests were seeking cool corners. Mrs. Benstein came presently, leaning on the arm of her military escort. Her face was turned away, so that neither of the two men watching her could see her features.
Lefroy drew a deep, long breath. The time had come, he would have to stand up and fight Frobisher, the secret that he had half deemed his own was on the verge of exposure.
"Mrs. Benstein is going into the conservatory," he said meaningly. "I propose to follow her wise example and do the same thing. A sybarite like you does not care for robust air. I presume, therefore, that you are going to stay where you are."
Frobisher hooked his arm quite affectionately through that of his companion.
"On the contrary, I feel that a tonic would do me good," he said sweetly. "I am distressed for your sake. There is a nervousness about you to-night that alarms me; I could not enjoy myself thinking about it. What should I do, where should I be without my Lefroy? Orestes and Pylades, Damon and Pythiaset hoc, where are you all alongside of Lefroy and Frobisher?"
He led the way into the conservatory close to where Mrs. Benstein and her companion were seated. By accident or design, Isa Benstein had her back to them. She seemed to be chatting gaily and without a trouble in the world to the General, who rose presently and proceeded back in the direction of the ballroom on ices bent. Then Mrs. Benstein rose and sauntered to the door of the conservatory. Both the men there watched her breathlessly—the time had come, and they both of them knew it.
She wheeled round suddenly as if conscious of their presence and smiled gloriously.
"I am admiring the flowers," she said. "They are exquisite. But I must have a word with Miss Lyne, whom I see in the distance. If my distracted General misses me, pray tell him that I shall be back at once. I trust you to do this for me, Sir Clement?"
Frobisher nodded with his mouth wide open, even he felt at a loss for words. There stood the lady of the rubies, her dress glistening with the gems, but her fair broad brow was clear as day, there was no vestige of a stone to mar its pure symmetry.
"It's a wonderfully warm night," Frobisher gasped.
"Sultry," Lefroy said meaningly, "very sultry. Deprives you of your wits, doesn't it? Weren't you saying something just now about the Blue Stone of Ghan? Or did I dream it? Come along."
"Where to?" Frobisher asked, like a man in a dream.
"Why, to the smoking-room, to be sure," Lefroy said with polite mockery. "As you told me just now with such tender consideration for others, you are not quite yourself. A little brandy, the brandy you know, and a small soda. You seem to want it badly."
"Egad," Frobisher burst out bitterly; "egad, I fancy we both do!"
CHAPTER XVIII.
A DEFENSIVE ALLIANCE.
Lefroy's face, on the whole, was the more composed of the two. It was not often, in public at any rate, that Frobisher allowed his passion to get the better of him, but for the moment he was utterly taken aback. He had planned his scheme so neatly, the whole cunning skein had reeled off so splendidly that the startling disappointment was all the more maddening.
"Nothing like the old brandy," Lefroy sneered. "You will find it a sovereign cure."
But Frobisher was recovering himself slowly. He was not the man to show his hand for long. The dry, hard smile was on his face now, the passionate desire to hurt something had passed away. Ignoring Lefroy's remark, he passed on in the direction of Mrs. Benstein.
"I have been looking for you everywhere," he said. "One does not usually have to hunt for the sun, but in this case the planet would seem to be a retiring one. Does my house afford such poor attraction that you should bore yourself in this lovely spot?"
"I am not in the least bored," Mrs. Benstein said, with one of her most brilliant smiles. "On the contrary, I have been enjoying myself immensely. I am merely resting."
Frobisher said something appropriate. Nobody could do that kind of thing better when the mood was upon him. At the same time, his deep-set eyes were looking for signs, that might be conspired into something useful. Lefroy contented himself by standing behind and smiling vaguely.
"Your gems are all I expected them to be," Frobisher went on. "I felt certain that rubies would suit you to perfection. But you want something, a certain finish. A star or cluster on the forehead to finish. Don't you agree with me, Count?"
He flashed a wicked grin at Lefroy, who said nothing. Isa Benstein gave no sign. She smiled as she arranged the flowers, the Crimson Moth that seemed to fascinate Lefroy.
"I thought so at first," she said. "In fact, I was wearing something of the kind when I came here. But on mature consideration I decided that it looked too overpowering. Several of your splendid mirrors confirmed that impression; consequently, I removed it."
"It is in a safe place, I trust?" Lefroy said carelessly.
"Really, I suppose so. Not that it matters, seeing that it is of no particular value. It was the only sham thing that I had about me. It is with my fan somewhere."
Lefroy urged the point no further. It was not policy to say too much. The two men went off together presently, as Isa Benstein was claimed for another dance.
"The man who finds that fan will be lucky," the Count said meaningly.
"The man who finds that fan will find nothing else," Frobisher replied. "How on earth it has happened I don't know, but that woman has discovered everything. Did you see her face as we were leaving? I did. She came here in blissful ignorance of the little comedy or tragedy, or whatever you like to call it; but she has had a warning from somebody since supper. Lord bless you, she knows all about it. We couldn't ask any prying questions without arousing her suspicions, though I am of opinion that she is quite aware of the way that she has baffled us. Oh, she is a clever woman."
"Clever as they make them. But she is only a woman, after all, my friend, and liable to make mistakes like the rest of her sex. She has got that stone about her."
Frobisher's eyes gleamed. He had been thinking much the same thing. Followed by Lefroy, he repaired to the smoking-room and proffered his hospitality. For some time the Count smoked and drank in silence, waiting for a lead from his host. There was bound to be some kind of explanation between them, and Lefroy preferred the lead to come from the other.
"Silence is golden," Frobisher said, with one of his sudden grins.
"In this case," the other said. "Perhaps you would like to deal the first hand. I shall sit tight for the present."
"I fancy it is my play," Frobisher said thoughtfully. "Fate and the other players push us a long way off our line of policy sometimes. For instance, I never imagined that I should be dragged into an offensive and defensive alliance with you. But for the present it is absolutely necessary. We must get that precious gew-gew——"
"Call it the sacred Blue Stone of Ghan and have done with it," Lefroy growled.
"Very well, though it is hardly diplomacy. Mrs. Benstein came here wearing the Blue Stone. You found it out quite by accident, and it was your game to prevent me from knowing. You tried very hard, but you were a little too much taken by surprise, especially when the Shan was announced."
"That was a very awkward moment for me," Lefroy admitted.
"It was. Directly you came in here I guessed exactly what had happened. As a matter of fact, I had not the least intention of your coming here to-night, indeed I didn't know you were coming. As a matter of fact, also, my wife cordially dislikes you, and I suppose she only asked you out of compliment to me."
"We'll let that pass," Lefroy said. "I was startled when Mrs. Benstein dropped her mask and the Blue Stone stood revealed. Of course, I knew that the stone was pledged to Benstein, and that Mrs. Benstein having it was natural enough. The doting old fool had been wheedled out of it for the evening. But I didn't know that you knew that, and I was most anxious to keep the information from you. But directly I came face to face with you here, I knew that you had some deep scheme, and that you guessed that I had got wind of it. I have worked that out."
Frobisher smoked and sipped his brandy with infinite relish.
"I always like to study a subtle mind, Count," he said. "Will you explain your meaning?"
"Certainly, especially as I shall lose nothing by so doing. Why did you get your wife to ask that woman here at all? I knew you had to use something like force to bring it about. You did it because you knew where the Blue Stone was. You advised Mrs. Benstein as to her dress, you gave her hints on that head. You were quite aware of the extent of Benstein's senile devotion to his wife. And you calculated that if she adopted the ruby suggestion she would borrow the Blue Stone."
"Excellent," Frobisher said cordially. "A capital piece of reasoning. And a very pretty scheme, though I say it myself. It came off, and only your presence prevented my coup. Pray go on."
"There isn't much more to say. Once Mrs. Benstein was here wearing the Blue Stone, you had no intention of her leaving with the gem in her possession. I don't mean to say that you would have used brutal force to get it, but I do mean to say that you would not have hesitated at that if needs must. Once you had the stone you would have forced those concessions from the Shan."
"And exposed the forged ones that you deposited with Benstein," Frobisher said sweetly.
Lefroy winced, and the glass chattered against his teeth. He had not expected that stroke, and his dark face indicated the fact for a brief moment.
"That is certainly one to you," he said. "Only that is not the point for the present. The point is, that your plot has failed, that the woman who came here to-day wearing the Blue Stone out of pure vanity and with no kind ofarrière penséewhatever, has been warned of her danger, which she has promptly removed. She knows pretty well everything—the way she received us showed that. She is an exceedingly clever woman, and has a shrewd idea how to take care of herself. Has she got the stone still?"
Frobisher nodded gravely. Lefroy's point was worthy of consideration.
"You mean, has she passed it on to somebody else?" he said. "She might have done that, but I don't fancy so, and I'll tell you why. She has seen enough of the world to teach her not to trust anybody. Naturally enough, she does not want her husband to be ruined, as would be the case unless the stone was restored to Benstein's safe keeping without delay, and so she would trust to her own shrewdness to get away without robbery. On the whole, she has not parted with the stone."
A little reflection assured Lefroy of the soundness of this reasoning. The thing resolved itself into a game of hide-and-seek with a fortune at the end of it with any luck. Up to a certain point these men were compelled to act together, but the alliance might end at any time.
"I can't very well abduct Mrs. Benstein till she parts with the gem," he said.
"No, we can't do it, but we might find somebody who could," Frobisher smiled. "There's the Shan's minister and treacherous servant, Hamid Khan, for instance. He has scant respect for the laws of this or any other country, and he knows quite well that his master has parted with the stone. If we could put our hands upon the amiable Hamid at this moment——"
"Nothing is easier. Hamid is watching in Piccadilly at this very moment."
"So you have got a little scheme afoot, too," Frobisher laughed. "Upon my word I need all my wits to enable me to get the better of you, Count. How long has this been going on?"
"Ever since the stone left the Shan's possession. Ever since then he has been dogged and watched. Let me go and call Hamid in to our discussion. He knows what has happened, for I scribbled a few lines on a sheet of paper just now when I left your wife, and handed it to one of the smaller spies who are loafing outside. The night is hot, and our absence will not be noticed. Now slip on our coats and assume to be going to smoke a cigar in the garden. From thence we reach Piccadilly by the back way, and surprise Hamid in his dreary vigil. Then he comes back with us here. What do you say?"
Frobisher nodded gleefully; it was an intrigue after his own heart. They passed into the cool air of the garden, and from thence into the narrow lane at the back of the house. It was very late now, and Piccadilly was growing quiet, so that the few lounging figures there were easily seen. A slender, brown-faced man in a dust coat and evening dress came along smoking a cigarette. He did not appear to be in the least interested in anything only for his restless eyes.
"I want you," Lefroy said. "There's work to be done, Hamid."
"Indeed, I am glad to hear that," said the other in a remarkably English tone of voice. "I'm getting sick to death of this eternal loafing. But Sir Clement Frobisher and Count Lefroy together! My dear Count, what are you doing in that galley?"
"Any galley is good enough when your own has been temporarily wrecked," Lefroy growled. "But ask no questions for the present and come with us."
They went back again presently in the smoking-room without having attracted the least attention, or so at least Sir Clement Frobisher flattered himself. It would never do for the Shan to know of Hamid Khan's presence in the house. But there were other watchful eyes besides those of the Shan of Koordstan. Mrs. Benstein had seen the two men go into the garden, and she had seen three return. She was not quite quick enough to get sight of the third, but she had a pretty shrewd idea who he was. She waited till she could have a word with Angela.
"I want you to do something for me, at once," she said. "Sir Clement Frobisher and Count Lefroy are in the private smoking-room with a third person. I want you to open the door and rush in with Sir Clement's name upon your lips as if you are in a hurry for something. Then you can stammer an apology and close the door behind you. The great thing is to get a quick mental photograph of the third person."
Angela nodded, she wasted no time in idle questions. In the most natural fashion she burst open the door and fluttered into the smoking-room, calling upon Frobisher as she did so. Then she stammered an apology and gently closed the door again. The third person had been seated directly opposite to her so that she had a perfect view of his face.
"I see you were perfectly successful," Mrs. Benstein said.
"Oh, absolutely," Angela replied. "It is a slender man with a deep mahogany face and curly hair, quite a handsome Asiatic, in fact; but what struck me more were his eyes, which are a clear light blue. Fancy, blue eyes in a face like that!"
"Capital," Mrs. Benstein murmured. "It is exactly as I expected. No, I am not going to say any more for the present, because I don't want to spoil your enjoyment. Now go off and flirt with that handsome young fraud, called Aben Abdullah, when you have the chance. Only don't go where I shall have to hunt for you in case of dire necessity."