Part 20 (1/2)

Till she actually lay down she did not realize how utterly worn out she was, or how little the odd hours of sleep that she had been able to secure had sufficed her. But as she laid her head upon the pillow, slumber swept upon her on soundless wings. She slept almost before she had time to appreciate the exquisite comfort of complete repose.

That slumber of hers lasted for many hours. She had given Peter express injunctions to awake her in good time in the morning, and she rested secure in the confidence that he would obey her orders. But it was the light of advancing evening that filled the room when at last she opened her eyes.

There had come a break in the rain, and a bar of misty suns.h.i.+ne had penetrated a c.h.i.n.k in the green blinds and lay golden across the Indian matting on the floor. She lay and gazed at it with a bewildered sense of uncertainty as to her whereabouts. She felt as if she had returned from a long journey, and for a time her mind dwelt hazily upon the Himalayan paradise from which she had been so summarily cast forth. Vague figures flitted to and fro through her brain till finally one in particular occupied the forefront of her thoughts. She found herself recalling every unpleasant detail of the old Kashmiri beggar who had lured Ralph Dacre from her side on that last fateful night. The old question arose within her and would not be stifled. Had the man murdered and robbed him ere flinging him down to the torrent that had swept his body away? The wonder tormented her as of old, but with renewed intensity. She had awaked with the conviction strong upon her that the man was not far away, that she had seen him recently, and that Everard Monck had seen him also.

That brought her thoughts very swiftly to the present, to Monck's illness and dependence upon her, and in a flash to the realization that she had spent nearly the whole day as well as the night in sleep. In keen dismay she started from her bed and began a rapid toilet.

A quarter of an hour later she heard Peter's low, discreet knock at the door, and bade him enter. He came in with a tea-tray, smiling upon her with such tender solicitude that she had it not in her heart to express any active annoyance with him.

”Oh, Peter, you should have called me hours ago!” was all she found to say.

He set down the tray with a deep salaam. ”But the captain _sahib_ would not permit me,” he said.

”He is better?” Stella asked quickly.

”He is much better, my _mem-sahib_. The doctor _sahib_ smiled upon him only this afternoon and told him he was a d.a.m.n' fraud. So my _mem-sahib_ may set her mind at rest.”

Obviously the term const.i.tuted a high compliment in Peter's estimation and the evident satisfaction that it afforded to Stella seemed to confirm the impression. He retired looking as well pleased as Stella had ever seen him.

She finished dressing as speedily as possible, ate a hasty meal, and hastened to Tommy's room. To her surprise she found it empty, but as she turned on the threshold the sound of her brother's laugh came to her through the pa.s.sage. Evidently Tommy was visiting his fellow sufferer.

With a touch of anxiety as to Monck's fitness to receive a visitor, she turned in the direction of the laugh. But at Monck's door she paused, constrained by something that checked her almost like a hand laid upon her. The blood ran up to her temples and beat through her brain. She found she could not enter.

As she stood there hesitating, Monck's voice came to her, quiet and rational. She could not hear what he said, but Tommy's more impetuous tones cutting in were clearly audible.

”Oh, rats, my dear fellow! Don't be so d.a.m.n' modest! You're worth a score of Dacres and you bet she knows it.”

Stella tingled from head to foot. In another moment she would have pa.s.sed swiftly on, but even as the impulse came to her it was frustrated. The door in front of her suddenly opened, and she was face to face with Monck himself.

He stood leaning slightly on the handle of the door. He was draped in a long dressing-gown of Oriental silk that hung upon him dejectedly as if it yearned for a stouter tenant. In it he looked leaner and taller than he had ever seemed to her before. He had a cigarette between his lips, but this he removed with a flicker of humour as he observed her glance.

”Caught in the act,” he remarked. ”Please come in!”

Something that was very far from humour impelled Stella to say quickly, ”I hope you don't imagine I was eavesdropping.”

He looked sardonic for an instant. ”No, I do not so far flatter myself,”

he said. ”I was referring to my cigarette.”

She entered, striving for dignity. Then as his att.i.tude caught her attention she forgot herself and turned upon him in genuine dismay.

”What are you doing out of bed? You know you are not fit for it. Oh, how wrong of you! Take my arm!”

He transferred his hand from the door to her shoulder, and she felt it tremble though his hold was strong.

”May I not sit up to tea with you, nurse _sahib_?” he suggested, as she piloted him firmly to the bedside.

”Of course not,” she made answer. The consciousness of his weakness had fully restored her confidence and her authority. ”Besides, I have had mine. Tommy, you too! It is too bad, I shall never dare to close my eyes again.”

At this point Monck laughed so suddenly and boyishly that she found it utterly impossible to continue her reproaches. He humbly apologized as he subsided upon the bed, and turning to Tommy who, fully dressed, was reclining at his ease in a deck-chair by its side said with a smile, ”You get back to your own compartment, my son. It isn't good for me to have two people in the room with me at the same time. And your sister wants to take my pulse undisturbed.”

”Or listen to your heart?” suggested Tommy irreverently as he rose.

”Turn him out!” said Monck, leaning luxuriously upon the pillows that Stella arranged for him.