Array Sapper - The Complete Works of H. C. McNeile Sapper

"The natives departed in due course, and having gone through the customary formalities of meeting for the benefit of possible onlookers, I rose and followed him into his house.

"'You're new,' he said when we were alone.

"'New to you,' I answered, but not to the game, though I haven't been on it for some years.'

"And for a while we discussed matters irrelevant to this story. It was not until he had completed his self-imposed job that Number 10 allowed himself to turn to matters personal.

"'Are you going back to Cairo direct?' he asked, and when I told him I was he began walking up and down the room with quick, excited steps.

"'Will you do something for me? he cried.

"'Of course,' I answered. What is it?'

"'There's a girl in Cairo,' he said, and his voice was shaking a little. 'Her name is Dallas—Mrs. Dallas—and I've just heard that she arrived there a month ago. Will you find her for me, and say to her, "Jack is waiting. It is quite safe."'

"Then he paused suddenly and stared at me.

"'They are pleased with me, aren't they, at headquarters? I've done pretty well?'

"'Very,' I answered, feeling a little puzzled at what all the mystery was about. As far as I know they're delighted with your work.'

"'I mean, I'm useful to them. They—they won't let me be taken away.'

"'Who is there to take you away?' I asked, staring at him. The perspiration was glistening on his face, and his hands were trembling. 'It strikes me, Brown,' I went on quietly, 'that you're not too fit. You dish out medicine to these natives, when somebody ought to be doing the same to you.'

"'It's nothing,' he cried. 'I'm all right. If only I didn't get these awful night sweats.'

"Then suddenly he started to cough, and I didn't need to be a doctor to tell what was the matter with him. He'd got consumption—and he'd got it badly.

"'I want you to tell her,' he gasped when he'd recovered from the paroxysm, that it is quite safe. Impress it on her—that there's no danger. She will understand what you mean.'

"'All right,' I said. 'I will certainly do what you ask.'

"'You see,' he said quietly, 'she is my wife.'

"I sat up and stared at him.

"'Your wife?' I echoed. 'Then why the deuce don't you go to Cairo yourself, my dear fellow?'

"'I can't,' he answered; 'I daren't. But when she knows it's safe—impress that on her, don't forget—she'll come here. I suppose,' he went on diffidently, 'you couldn't help her over arrangements for the journey, could you?'

"I assured him that I would do everything I could to assist the lady, and the poor devil was pathetically grateful. After all it was none of my business. There are quite a number of men called Brown dotted about in odd corners, whose wives if they possessed one would not answer the name. I stayed on with him as long as I could, consistently with my role of Arab, and I let him talk. He could think of nothing except his wife, and in view of the fact that he hadn't seen her for four years it was hardly surprising. Once or twice I tried to mention his health, but he waved the matter aside. A bit of a cough— that was all, and everything was going to be perfect when his wife arrived. And his parting injunction to me was a repetition of the fact that there was no danger.

"'She ought to be here in a month,' were his last words, and I left him to his dreams—the man who called himself Brown."

Jim paused and knocked out his pipe.

"I was back in Cairo in about a fortnight, and the first thing I did, of course, was to give in my report. It was to Toby Bretherton I made it, and when I'd finished I got down to the other matter.

"'Mrs. Dallas,' he cried. 'Do I know her? My dear fellow, there's not a man in Cairo who doesn't. She takes very good care of that. Why do you ask?'

"But I wasn't there to gratify Toby's curiosity, and I put him off with some non-committal reply.

"'She's a widow,' he went on. 'A distinctly good-looking filly: a high stepper and a rapid mover. But excessively discreet, Jim—very excessively discreet.'

"'You don't appear mad about the lady,' I remarked.

"He shrugged his shoulders. 'I am not one of the privileged many. But from what I can see and from what I've been told she has altogether too shrewd an eye for the main chance to be particularly attractive. Her present quarry I believe is that ass Hounslow. Some minor official out from England,' he went on in answer to my look of inquiry. Conducting some statistical investigation. And I am told that the air of Cairo and the lady's charms have seriously interfered with the great man's work.'

"I left him soon after, and as you can imagine I was thinking pretty hard. For Toby Bretherton's description of the lady hardly fitted in with the one given me by the man called Brown. In fact I didn't quite see her rushing with outflung arms to the back of beyond up the White Nile. And when I finally met the lady the following afternoon I saw her doing it still less. I was still disguised as an Arab, and I took stock of her without much difficulty. She was surrounded by a bunch of men, and they were watching some flying out at Heliopolis. And Mr. Hounslow, as he then was, was watching her."

* * * * *

"There was a fancy-dress ball that night at the Semiramis, and to that ball I repaired. I was determined to lay up for her, and I did— though it took some time. As Toby had said, she was excessively discreet, and the subalterns cajoled her to go with them to dark corners of the grounds in vain. But at last Mr. Hounslow, not being a subaltern, but a very much bigger fish, persuaded her to brave the rigours of the night air with him. She yielded with becoming reluctance, and allowed herself to be led to a discreet carla jugga in the grounds.

"And there I regret to say that the statistical expert's feelings so overcame him that he kissed her. And Mrs. Dallas murmured George— dear.' He kissed her again, and shortly afterwards Mrs. Dallas agreed to become Mrs. Hounslow. And then because Mr. Hounslow was a Public Man and had duty dances with the wives of other Public Men he left her. She would not come in for a while, she said: she would sit and dream. Even as the man called Brown was sitting and dreaming many moons away up the White Nile.

"It was the chance I had been waiting for, and I stepped into the carla jugga . She gave a little cry, as I bowed deeply before her.

"'Who are you? What do you want?'

"'My name is Ibrahim, lady,' I said, 'and I bring you a message. It is from an Englishman, and it is as follows: "Jack is waiting. It is quite safe."'

"I thought she was going to faint. In the semi-darkness I could see that every vestige of colour had left her face, and her breath was coming in great gasps.

"'But it isn't true,' she muttered after a time. 'It can't be true, I tell you. Jack is dead: I know he's dead.'

"'He is waiting for you,' I went on impassively. 'And he told me to impress on you that there was no danger.'

"'Where is he?' she cried. 'Tell me where he is.'

"And now she was clutching my arm feverishly.

"'Many days' march away up the White Nile,' I answered gravely. 'You will go to him?'

"'But don't you see it's impossible,' she almost screamed.

"And then what little pity I had for her went. As long as she had believed her husband was dead—and to do the woman justice I have no doubt that she really had believed it—I had nothing to say on the matter. The mere fact that I fully shared Toby Bretherton's opinion of her was beside the point: we don't all think alike. But now the thing was on a different footing altogether.

"'Why is it impossible,' I demanded, 'for a woman to go to her lord and husband?'

"She literally sprang at me.

"'You're not to say that,' she hissed. 'You're not to mention that word.'