Part 29 (1/2)
Certainly.... Without doubt. We respect the Mother-Superior highly. A most gifted, most estimable person in every way, if rather stern and reserved.... Unapproachable, my wife calls her. But Miss Mildare, her ward----”
XXIV
”Miss Mildare!”
The Chief's keen eyes had lightened suddenly. The whole face had darkened and narrowed, and the clipped brown moustache lost its smiling curve, and straightened into a hard line.
”Miss _Mildare_?”
”Why, yes, that is her name.... An orphan, I have heard, and with no living relatives. But she seems happy enough at the Convent, judging by what Mrs. Greening says.”
The hearer experienced a momentary feeling of relief and of anger--relief to think that dead d.i.c.k Mildare's daughter should have found refuge in such a woman's heart; anger that the woman should have concealed from him the girl's ident.i.ty, knowing her the object of his own anxious search.
Then he understood. His anger died as suddenly as it had been kindled. He recalled something that he had seen when the rearing horse had inclined perilously towards the footway--that protecting maternal gesture, that swift interposition of the tall, active, black-robed figure between the white-clad, flower-faced, girlish creature and those threatening iron-shod hoofs....
”She loves the girl--d.i.c.k Mildare's daughter by the treacherous friend who stole him from her. Is there a doubt? With poor little Lady Lucy Hawting's willowy figure and the same nymph-like droop of the little head, with its rich twists and coils of dead-leaf-coloured hair, shaded by the big black hat. That woman has taken her to her heart, however she came by her; the parting would be agony, stern, proud, tender creature that she is! I suppose she will be doing thundering penance for not having told me, a fellow who simply walked into the place and a.s.segaied her with my death-news. Here's a marrowy bone of gossip Lady Hannah shall never crack.
And yet I wouldn't swear there's not an angel husked inside that dried-up little chrysalis. For G.o.d made all women, though He only turned out a few of 'em perfect, and some only just a little better than the ruck.”
He roused himself from the brown study that brought into relief many lurking lines and furrows in the thin, keen face, as the Chief Medical Officer, fixing him through suspicious eyegla.s.ses, demanded:
”Ye got your full allowance o' sleep last nicht?”
He nodded.
”Thanks to a c.o.c.kney babe in bandoliers, who was born not only with eyes and ears, like other infants, but with the capacity for using 'em.”
”Ay. It's remarr'kable how many men will daudle complacently through life, from the cradle to the grave, wi'out the remotest consciousness that they're practically blind and no better than deaf, as far as regards real seeing and hearing. But who's your prodeegy?”
”One of Panizzi's Town Guardsmen. They put him on at the Convent with another sentry, their first experience of a night on guard. By not being in a hurry to challenge, and keeping his ears open while a conversation of the confidentially-affectionate kind was going on between a Dutchman--a fellow employed in the booking-office at the railway, on whom I've had my eye for some little time past--and his sweetheart, my townie found out for himself something that most of us knew before, and something else that we wanted to know particularly badly....”
”Namely?”
”For one thing, that the town is a hotbed of spies, and that our friends in laager outside are nightly communicated with by means of flash-signals.”
”And that's an indeesputable fact. Toch!” No other combination of letters may convey the guttural, ”Have I no' seen the lamps at warr'k mysel', after darr'k, at the end o' the roads that debouch upon the veld! The Dutchman would be able to plead precedent, I'm thinking.”
”He will have plenty of time to think where he is at present. When the sentry interfered he was instructing the young woman in a simple but effective code of match-flare signals, by means of which she was to communicate with him when he had cleared out. And he had announced his intention of doing that without delay.”
”An' skipping to his freends upo' the Borr'der.... Toch!” The network of wrinkles tightened about the sharp little blue-grey eyes of the Chief Medical Officer. ”That would gie a thochtfu' man a kind o' notion that a reese in the temperature may be expect.i.t shortly. An' so you--slept soundly on the strength o' many wakeful nichts to come? Ay, that would be the kind o' information ye were badly wanting!”
”You're wrong, Major. The bit of information was this--from the spy to his friends outside: '_No--news--to-night._'” The keen hazel eyes conveyed something into the Northern blue ones that was not said in words: ”'No news to-night.' And the sender of that message was a railway man!”
The wiry hairs of the Chief Medical Officer's red moustache bristled like a cat's.
”Toch! Colonel, you will have reason to be considering me dull in the uptake, but I see through the mud wall now. And so the knowledge that ye have no equal at hiding your deeds o' darkness even in the licht o' the railway-yard was as good to ye as Daffy's Elixir. And when micht we reckon on getting notification from what I may presume to ca' your double surpreese-packet?”
He looked at his watch--a well-used Waterbury, worn upon the silvered steel lip-strap of a cavalry bridle, and said: