Part 30 (1/2)
”I've a good mind to have him tracked and convicted. What do you say, Judge?” he asked, turning to Mr. Goldring, who had also arrived to ask after the Collector.
”If anybody except Worsley was in question I'd have no hesitation in setting everything in train for a capture, but you know, Samptor, what Worsley is! He'll simply set himself to obstruct justice in this case.
He'd hate the publicity of the affair,” added the Judge, his blue eyes full of perplexity.
”Well, after all, the wretch is jolly well punished,” returned the Jailer. ”He's lost his fine soft berth and 'master's favour,' and all the rest of it. But I don't believe we've got to the bottom of this affair yet. Moideen didn't want to put an end to his master, be you sure of that!”
”No, the doctor thinks it was an accident,” broke in Mark, ”an overdose of the poison which acted with more deadly effect than was intended.
Probably he was frantic when he saw what he had done. There may be a clue.”
Mark proceeded to narrate his seeing of Moideen with the man whom the Collector seemed to have no doubt was the Tahsildar of Lerode.
”A clue indeed!” exclaimed Samptor, much interested. ”Mahomet Usman no doubt desired for reasons of his own to have the Collector's visit postponed for a few days. That's all--though a valuable life was to be risked to attain that end. We're not unfamiliar with such methods, are we, Judge?”
”Unfortunately not,” responded Mr. Goldring, shaking his head.
”Something wrong with his accounts,” suggested Mark. ”That's the conclusion I've come to. If the Collector will give me permission, as soon as he's able to be left, I'll hurry off to Lerode and look into the matter. We must get to the bottom of Mahomet Usman's tricks. Who knows what frauds may have been going on!”
”Let me tell you, you'll find Mahomet Usman's books in perfect order,”
returned Samptor. ”He only wanted the extra day or two to accomplish that. They'll not be a pie wrong! It was to prevent any such discovery, don't you see, that our poor Collector has nearly been sacrificed. By all means, Cheveril, go to Lerode, but the wily Mussulman has got the start of you. His revenue collection will be all square by to-morrow or the next day. No doubt Moideen had his orders to keep the Collector quiet till then. That comes of letting those natives creep so close!
Moideen was a clever dog, made himself indispensable to his master's comfort. Poor Worsley, pity his wife isn't of the sort to be at his side with the sharp eyes of my wife!”
Events turned out as Mr. Samptor predicted. Not the most searching examination of Mahomet Usman's books disclosed the slightest defalcation, though Mark felt convinced that the _Tahsildar_ was aware that the new a.s.sistant was watching for his halting, and also knew the reason why. As to finding any explanation of his conspiracy with the absconding Moideen, Mark was completely baulked.
The Collector had been very irritable and impatient when his health admitted of his being told the cause of his illness, and the certain proof which Moideen had given of his guilt by his flight only intensified his annoyance. He seemed indeed aggrieved by the whole incident and desirous of ignoring it.
Mark felt a new sense of anxiety and a need for greater daily vigilance in the combination of circ.u.mstances in which he was now placed. The relations of the Hindus with the Mahomedans in the town were increasingly unsatisfactory, even threatening; though there remained a difference of opinion as to who was the aggressive party. Dr. Campbell continued to hold a brief for the Hindus, as indeed did all the members of the little community except the Collector. Moideen had been replaced by a Mahomedan from Madras bearing a good certificate from his former master, and who seemed a much less complex character than the sinister Moideen.
Perhaps there was no one concerned in the situation who took a graver view of the possibilities of a disturbance among the seething ma.s.ses of the native town than did the young a.s.sistant-Collector, who went about his daily work with a watchful air and an anxious heart.
CHAPTER XXIX.
On the morning of the third day after her visit to Mr. Morpeth, as Hester sat with Mrs. Fellowes at early tea in the verandah at Royapooram, a chit was handed to her and the butler announced that her carriage was waiting. The note was from her husband telling her of his arrival at Clive's Road.
”Do, my darling Hester, hurry to me at once,” it ran. ”I am pining to hold you in my arms. I have only just arrived, but this horrid south wind is making a wreck of me already. I feel so nervous I can hardly hold a pen.”
Having shared her news with her hostess, Hester rose to make hasty preparations for her departure.
”This is a blow to me,” said Mrs. Fellowes. ”I hoped at least to keep you a week longer with us. Your husband has evidently changed his plans.”
”He has seemingly. But why should this wind be troubling him? I was just thinking how refres.h.i.+ng it was.”
”Ah, but your husband is right there. This south wind is an enemy we dread, it is baleful in its effects, I a.s.sure you. When it first blows on one it does seem refres.h.i.+ng, but the very next moment one begins to feel its bad influence. It is like a gust of hot damp air blown over marshes, penetrating to one's joints and marrows.”
”Alfred evidently resents it,” returned Hester. ”I fear it will blow away all the good effects of his change. I wonder what can have made him hurry back so soon,” she added, with a sigh she repressed at once and turned to her friend, saying, ”How can I thank you for all that has made this time so pleasant to me? I shall never forget these days.”
The tears sprang to her eyes as she clasped her friend's hand. ”I feel as if I were leaving Paradise for the thorns and thistles of the wilderness,” she murmured; and in this remark she laid bare more of her heart than she had ever done, even to her trusted friend, who now looked at her with keen concern.
”But I mustn't put it like that,” she added. ”Poor Alfred needs me. I must go back strong and cheerful!”