Part 24 (1/2)
Quite in the shadow, he caught sight of a tall figure in European clothes, who was, like himself, an impa.s.sive spectator, and, with a start, he recognised Roscoe's cousin. To-night he appeared cleaner and more human; he had shaved recently, and there was an undeniable family likeness between him and his relative--such a resemblance as may exist between a dead and broken branch and one still flouris.h.i.+ng upon a healthy tree. On this occasion he was evidently not ashamed to be seen and recognised, for he nodded to Shafto, then crossed the room and joined him.
”Ah, so you've not taken a pull at yourself yet?” said Shafto.
”No, the cocaine debauchee has no power to resist the drug,” he replied in a thin refined voice. ”I am fairly normal to-night; it is not a case of virtuous repentance, but merely because I have no money.”
As he made this statement the despairing eyes that looked into Shafto's were those of some famis.h.i.+ng animal.
”You have the power to raise me from the pit,” he continued in a husky voice; ”you can lift me straight into heaven!”
”Only temporarily,” brusquely rejoined Shafto.
”Even that is something when it offers peace and satisfaction to the restless human heart.”
”But surely you can free yourself and your restless heart? Why not walk out of this filthy den with us? Roscoe will help you, so will I.
Come, be a man!”
”It would be impossible for me to regain the normal balance of life,”
declared the victim of the drug; ”also, I am no longer a man--I am a fanatical wors.h.i.+pper of cocaine, and only death can part us. Some day soon I shall fall out of her train, the police will find me in the gutter and take the debased body to the mortuary, whence, unclaimed and unknown, it will be carried to a pauper's grave.”
”But can nothing be done to stop this h.e.l.lish business?”
”Nothing,” replied the victim with emphasis, ”nothing whatever, until sales are rendered impossible and the big men--the real smugglers who are trading in the life-blood of their brothers--are reached and scotched. As for myself, I am past praying for; but thousands of others could and ought to be saved--by drastic measures and a stern exposure. The fellows in this business are as cunning as the devil; the stuff arrives by roundabout channels and from the most surprising quarters. Now and then they allow a consignment to be seized, but as a mere blind, a sop, and trade flourishes; there is no business to touch it in the money-making line.”
He paused and met Shafto's searching eyes, then went on:
”It must amaze you to hear a fellow in this sink talking plain grammatical English, but before the cocaine fiend caught and tortured me I had brains. Joe Roscoe is a good chap--he has often held out a helping hand, but it was not a bit of use, I only sank deeper. When I recall the things I have done, the meannesses I have stooped to, I squirm and squirm and _squirm_! Well, I am nearly at the end of my tether, and a hair of the dog that bit me is all I ask. Your friend FitzGerald here, now looking up evidence from that rascally Malay, is working his very best to find some clue to the headquarters of the gang; but they are much too clever and are making their thousands and tens of thousands; profits are enormous, and the servants of the company are well paid for any risks or prosecutions.”
”But what about informers?” asked Shafto.
”Oh, as for betraying secrets or giving the game away, the employes know exactly what to expect. More than one would-be witness has disappeared; his epitaph is, 'Found drowned.' Ah, I see FitzGerald moving, and so you must take your departure out of this inferno into the clean upper-world.”
”You come along with us,” said Shafto, suddenly seizing him by the arm.
But Roscoe threw him off with astonis.h.i.+ng force and shook his head emphatically. Nevertheless he followed the pair to the entrance--a tall wraith-like form moving behind them, a shadow in the shadows.
As soon as the door had closed and the visitors were once more in the street, the police officer broke out:
”Upon my word, Shafto, you ought to be ashamed of yourself! Didn't I see you slip money into the hand of that broken-down Englishman?”
”Yes, you did,” Douglas boldly admitted; ”I was obliged to, right or wrong. If you had only seen his eyes, his starving, despairing eyes!
I believe they will haunt me as long as I live; somehow I feel to-night as if I had looked through the gates of h.e.l.l!”
CHAPTER XXII
THE APPROACHING DREAD
The cold weather was waning in the month of March, women and children were flocking to cooler climes than Lower Burma--chiefly to May Myo, north-east of Mandalay. Once a stockaded village, it was now a fair-sized and attractive station, with a garrison, a club, many comfortable bungalows, an overflowing abundance of flowers and fruit, and in its neighbourhood beautiful moss-green rides. When the hot weather had begun to make itself felt, and the brain-fever bird to make himself heard, Mrs. Krauss had insisted on dispatching her niece to this resort, chaperoned by Mrs. Gregory; but as far as she herself was concerned nothing would induce her to leave home.