Part 5 (1/2)

”To be a surgeon, or even an apothecary in such a lonely place, would profit mankind or myself very little,” proceeded the man in his usual tone of grave gentleness.

He smiled at the boy, who nodded a reply. Again the odd sound was repeated. It was murmurous and lingering, rising and falling in a measured sort of way.

”It is within the house,” Ezra told himself. ”And it is the voice of some one in conversation.”

But he felt the dark eyes of the Oriental fixed upon him and his face never changed. The sound, apparently, was one that Abdallah would prefer to have unheard; so Ezra's face held nothing but polite interest in the other's remarks.

”I suppose you are quite right,” said the boy. ”And so,” with the suspicions of the farmers well in mind, ”you devote your time solely to the study of your philosophy?”

”Entirely so,” replied Abdallah, suavely. ”It is a great science, and to get even the rudiments of it, one must spare neither one's self nor time.”

Again came the murmurous sound. Whoever the talkers were, they seemed to be deep in some discussion. As Ezra watched he saw the habitually gentle look leave the eyes of the Oriental; the pleasant mouth tightened and grew hard, the long-fingered brown hands clenched.

”I will ask your pardon,” said Abdallah in his smooth voice. That he was filled with a bitter anger was plain; but he held himself wonderfully in control. He bent his head in a salaam of much dignity; then drawing aside some hangings that concealed a doorway, he disappeared.

Ezra settled back more comfortably into his easy seat.

”Master Abdallah evidently does not lead the lonely life that my friends of a short time ago supposed,” said he. ”If these are not regular inmates of his house, they are persons over whom he professes some control; at least his manner said as much.”

There was a huge clock in the room that ticked with steady, solemn regularity. Now and then a candle sputtered or leaped behind its rose-colored shade. But these were the only sounds that Ezra heard.

”Whoever it was, he has silenced them,” smiled the boy. ”Behind that soft manner, our friend has a temper of his own. I saw that from the first.”

But another moment proved that Abdallah's was not the only temper in the house. Suddenly the silence was split by a heavy voice, thundering:

”What do you mean, sir? What do you mean by addressing me in that manner?”

A quick, excited murmur followed. Then the heavy voice was heard once more.

”I know we are in his house. I am perfectly aware of it. But that does not deprive me of the right to protect myself from impudence.”

Abdallah's voice was then heard; but it was pitched so low that Ezra could not catch the words. After a moment the heavy voice came again.

”Of course, sir, that puts a different face upon the matter. But you should have warned us to moderate our tones. Remember, I am Major Buckstone of His Majesty's Artillery, and I permit no man to hector me.”

”Hush-h-h-h!” came another voice. And then there was a silence.

”It seems that Major Buckstone is a person quite ready and competent to regulate his own affairs,” smiled the boy. Then his brows puckered thoughtfully as he continued: ”And the fact that he is of His Majesty's Artillery makes him a gentleman of whom I should take more than ordinary notice.”

On the whole, as he thought the situation over, all the persons concerned were of great interest to him and to the cause of the colonies. Here was a stranger, an Oriental, who received mysterious communications from equally mysterious hors.e.m.e.n. And here, also, were British officers making his house a place of resort and carrying on conversations which would not allow of being overheard.

”Decidedly,” said Ezra, ”it has an interesting look. And I am quite pleased that I chanced to come this way and overtake Master Scarlett as I did.”

His thoughts had run this far when once again the mighty voice of Major Buckstone was heard.

”But, sir,” it cried, ”I disagree with you. I utterly disagree with you.

You may have your own ways of doing these things. If so, you are perfectly welcome to them. But I am a soldier, sir; an officer in His Majesty's Artillery, and I am accustomed to do things in my own way.”