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- Herausgeber: Allison & Busby
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Serie: Wallace of the Secret Service
- Sprache: Englisch
BOOK 2 in the Wallace of the Secret Service series An intrigue against Britain by Bolshevik agents is strongly suspected at MI6. Sir Leonard Wallace sends Captain Hugh Shannon, disguised as a professor of English Literature, to India to get to the bottom of it.
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Seitenzahl: 606
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
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The Devil’s Cocktail
ALEXANDER WILSON
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
An Advertisement
The famous chief of the British Intelligence Department leant back in his chair, and looked thoughtful. The pattering of the rain on his office window, and the subdued noise of the traffic in the street below appeared to have a soothing effect upon him, and to be conducive to deep reflection, for he sat without movement for nearly ten minutes. At length he looked at his companion, and taking a pipe from his pocket proceeded to fill it from a pouch which lay on his desk.
‘It may be a waste of time and the loss of a good man for a considerable period,’ he said, when his pipe was going to his satisfaction, ‘but I have decided to send Shannon to India.’
The fair-haired, good-looking man, seated on the opposite side of the desk, nodded.
‘In what capacity will he go out?’ he asked.
For answer the other handed him a copy of The Times opened at the advertisement page, and indicated a paragraph in the appointments’ column.
‘Shannon appears to have all the qualifications necessary for the post,’ he said, ‘and really nothing could be more ideal for our purpose.’
‘But this is for three years!’ exclaimed the almost equally renowned Deputy Chief. ‘Surely you don’t intend him to be out there all that time?’
‘Why not? In three years a lot may be accomplished, and I want a lot to be done. On the other hand, of course, Shannon may fail, but we must risk that.’
‘I don’t think he will fail. He is a pretty good fellow, and as keen as mustard. But do you think it is any good sending him to take up a position like this where he’ll be tied down most of the year?’
‘Yes; he’ll be right on the spot in Lahore, and besides he will, no doubt, have endless opportunities for getting about to other districts during the vacations, and they get pretty lengthy ones in the colleges in India. Altogether I don’t think anything could have suited our purpose better than this.’ He tapped the paper, which his companion had handed back to him. ‘It remains now for him to be appointed.’
‘Yes; and that is not going to be easy. Probably there will be a host of applications.’
‘No doubt, but with his qualifications, and the references we can give him, he should get the job.’ He rang a bell on his desk. ‘He ought to be in the building somewhere – I’ll have him in at once.’
A secretary appeared.
‘Find out if Captain Shannon is here,’ said the Chief, ‘and if so send him up to me!’
‘Very well, sir,’ said the secretary, and departed.
After a few minutes there was a knock, and, in response to the Chief’s invitation to enter, a young man came into the room, and stood respectfully by the door.
‘You sent for me, sir?’ he enquired.
‘Yes! Sit down, and help yourself to a cigarette!’
The young man did as he was bidden. The Chief regarded him seriously for a moment, then:
‘You made rather a name for yourself at Oxford, didn’t you? Got a fellowship and half a dozen other things?’ he asked.
The other smiled.
‘I didn’t do badly, sir,’ he replied.
‘And you had a double “Blue”, which is a great advantage in an appointment of the nature I am going to put before you, Shannon.’
The faintest look of surprise passed across the young man’s face.
‘Altogether you are eminently suitable to take up the Chair of English Literature at a university college,’ went on the Chief, ‘and so I wish you to apply at once for this post.’
He handed The Times to Shannon, and showed him the advertisement in question. Without attempting to conceal his interest, the latter read the following:
A Professor of English Literature is required for Sheranwala College, University of Northern India, Lahore, at a salary of Rupees 500-50-1000, for a period of three years. Applicants must be graduates of an English University and preference will be given to one who is a sportsman. Apply with copies of testimonials, references, etc., to Mahommed Abdullah, C.I.E., Savoy Hotel, Strand, London.
Captain Shannon read the advertisement twice before handing the paper back, and it was a very astonished young man who looked to his Chief for enlightenment. The latter smiled, and knocked out the ashes of his pipe into an ashtray.
‘I want you to get that post, Shannon,’ he said, ‘you’ll probably find it most congenial.’
‘You have your reasons, sir?’ said the other.
‘I have! Very little is done in this department without a reason. Now listen carefully to what I have to say!’ He rose from his chair and strolled across the room to the fireplace, where he stood with his back resting against the mantelpiece, and confronted the young officer.
‘India is a strange country,’ he said, ‘and there are things going on there which this country knows nothing about. The time has come, however, when Great Britain must be cognisant of all that occurs, in order not only to safeguard herself, but also to ensure the safety of the Indian Empire. As you are aware, my colleague and I practically succeeded last year in routing out the Bolshevik element in India, but from information received, I believe that representatives of the Russian Soviet have recommenced their activities. Apart from that there is an undercurrent of unrest and distrust and various latent disorders which must be inquired into. Lahore appears to be the centre of the trouble, and it is to Lahore that I wish you to go. India possesses a very fine police force, but there is no Intelligence Department worth the name. In taking up the appointment of Professor of English Literature in this college, you will have endless opportunities to get to the bottom of things. Nobody will suspect that you are a member of the Secret Service – nobody must suspect! Something is going on, and I want you to find out what that something is. You have a big job before you, and it will require infinite tact, patience and resource. I have chosen you because of your knowledge of Hindustani, and because I have found you to be a reliable man. You have no time to think the matter over; your application for this appointment must go in today – either accept or refuse! Which is it to be?’
Captain Shannon looked at his Chief with sparkling eyes. This was an opportunity for which he had longed ever since he had joined the Intelligence Service. Without the slightest sign of hesitation, he spoke.
‘Of course I accept, sir!’ he said.
‘Good,’ said the Chief nonchalantly, and returned to his seat at the desk. ‘Now you had better write your application at once, and in order to ensure your getting the post, you must have a splendid list of referees. No doubt you can get any number from your college, and so on. Add to them these three—’ He mentioned three names which were household words in England. ‘I’ll see that these gentlemen respond without any suspicion arising that you are a member of the Intelligence Department. And now you had better get busy at once. Remember that if you are appointed, you are in no way to neglect your duty to your employers, but, of course, your first responsibility will be to us.’
He rose, and held out his hand. Captain Shannon grasped it eagerly.
‘I’m jolly grateful to you for giving me this chance, sir,’ he said boyishly.
‘Well, make the most of it! A lot depends upon you; perhaps more than any of us can say at present. The main thing now is to get the post; everything will be done to help you, and before you sail we shall have a further interview at which all details will be discussed, and your final instructions given to you.’
The Deputy Chief walked with Shannon to the door.
‘You must get the post!’ he said. ‘We are relying on you more than we have ever relied upon anybody before. If you succeed in the job that has been assigned to you, you are a made man, if you fail—’ He shrugged his shoulders, and held out his hand.
‘I shall not fail, sir,’ said Shannon, and departed.
CHAPTER TWO
White Lies
Hugh Shannon lost no time in applying for the post of Professor of English Literature of Sheranwala College in Lahore. He was a modest young man, and he found it rather difficult to do himself justice without appearing to be, as he put it, ‘a conceited idiot.’ However, he had a duty to perform, and he did it. The letter of application, with copies of his testimonials – and he had many – was duly despatched. Thereafter he spent two days of anxiety, wondering if he would receive a reply.
Captain Shannon had had a short though distinguished career in the Indian Army, and had left it to take up a post in the Foreign Office, whence he had been attached to the Intelligence Department. He had quickly come under the notice of the astute Chief, who had given him duties which required great resource and tact to carry out, as well as a masterly knowledge of languages. Thus, in two years, he had become one of the most trusted men in the service, and gave promise of rising very rapidly in his chosen profession.
At this time about thirty years of age, he was a splendidly built specimen of English manhood. Nearly six feet in height, he looked shorter on account of his breadth of shoulder and powerful frame. He was not handsome, but his clean-shaven face, with its humorous mouth, steely grey eyes, determined chin and high forehead, surmounted by a mass of curly brown hair, gave him an attractive appearance, which appealed very much to most people he met. Added to this he possessed a happy-go-lucky nature, a great love for sport of all descriptions, a fearless disposition, and a fondness for getting to the bottom of things; and, therefore, in the Secret Service he had discovered the one job which attracted him above all others. Both parents being dead, he and an only sister lived in a small flat opposite Kensington Gardens, where they were in the midst of a wide circle of friends.
On the morning of the third day after he had sent off his letter of application, he was seated at breakfast with his morning newspaper propped up in front of him. His sister, who had been to a dance the night before, was late in making her appearance, and he had nearly finished his meal when at last she came in.
‘Oh, you pig!’ she exclaimed by way of greeting. ‘You might have waited for me.’
‘My dear girl,’ he replied, as he arranged her chair for her, ‘I am a busy man, and there is a certain matter of daily bread to be earned.’
‘Daily bread!’ she scoffed. ‘Why we have enough money between us to live perfectly happily, and in spite of that you delude yourself into imagining that you are keeping us on the paltry £500 a year the Foreign Office pay you.’
He smiled.
‘Would you have me loaf my way through life, Joan?’
‘No; but I cannot understand what you find to do in that musty old office. Now if they made you a King’s Messenger there would be some sense in it. I think there must be something mysterious about your work. Sometimes you appear to have nothing to do, and at other times you disappear for weeks on end, and when you come back you are frightfully vague about where you have been, and what you have been doing. You’ve become a most unsatisfactory person lately, Hugh.’
She poured herself out some coffee, while he sat back in his chair, and watched her. Very few people were aware of Hugh Shannon’s real position, and even his sister thought he was merely an ornamental member of the staff at the Foreign Office, though occasionally she wondered why he was so often called upon to make sudden journeys out of England.
‘I wish you had stopped in the Army,’ she went on, ‘I should love to have lived in India for a few years, and kept house for you, and now I shall probably never have the opportunity.’
‘You may,’ he said quietly; ‘in fact there is quite a possibility.’
She jumped up in her excitement.
‘Oh, Hugh, do you really mean that? Are you going back to the Army?’
He shook his head.
‘No; but I have applied for a post in a college out there.’
She stared at him in astonishment.
‘You’ve what?’ she demanded. ‘What sort of a post?’
‘Professor of English Literature,’ he said with a half-defiant note in his voice.
She continued to gaze at him in amazement for a minute or two, and then burst into peal after peal of such infectious laughter that he was compelled to join in with her.
‘Do you really mean that, Hugh?’ she asked, when her merriment had subsided.
‘Of course!’
‘But, my dear brother,’ she said, with the air of a mother gently chiding her child, ‘don’t you realise that to become a professor of literature one must devote years and years to study? Besides you don’t look like one.’
‘Why not?’
‘All the professors I ever knew were old and wore glasses and sniffed – you don’t, and you’re not old. You’d have to be absent-minded too, and you’re the very opposite to that.’
‘Well, I’ve applied for the job anyway, and if there’s any chance of my obtaining it, I should get a letter today or tomorrow appointing an interview.’
‘But, dear,’ she said, ‘that will mean your leaving the Foreign Office, and I thought you were very happy there.’
‘So I am, but this post rather appeals to me – and I’d like to get back to India for a few years.’
She was silent for a little while.
‘I don’t think I have ever been so surprised in my life,’ she said, at last. ‘Fancy you, a born soldier, devoting yourself to the teaching of literature. I don’t know that I like the idea much, though I want to go to India. You’ll take me with you, of course?’ she asked.
‘I haven’t got the job yet,’ he said.
‘Oh you’ll get it. You always get everything you set out for.’
‘Thank you!’ He rose and bowed with mock gratitude.
‘But, Hugh dear, won’t you be awfully bored?’
‘Not a bit. You see they lay particular stress upon requiring a sportsman, so there should be some fun.’
‘That makes a big difference,’ she nodded. ‘The fact that they want a sportsman makes the whole proposition infinitely more attractive.’
At that moment the maid brought in some letters on a salver. Hugh took them, and handing three or four to his sister, glanced quickly at the rest. One, bearing the superscription in an unknown hand, he rapidly tore open, extracted the single sheet of notepaper it contained and looked at the address.
‘Ah!’ he ejaculated, and Joan glanced across at him eagerly.
‘Is it the one?’ she asked.
He nodded. The letter was addressed from the Savoy Hotel.
Dear Sir,
I am very much interested in your application for the post of Professor of English Literature. I may say that you appear to be the type of man required. Will you be good enough to call at the above address on Wednesday afternoon at three o’clock?
Yours faithfully,
Mahommed Abdullah
With a sigh of relief Hugh handed the letter to Joan.
‘I think I’ll get it,’ he said.
She read the note and handed it back.
‘Hugh, you are an astonishing person,’ she said. ‘It certainly looks as though I shall have to see about getting an outfit ready for the tropics.’
He smiled as he rose from the table.
‘You are determined to come?’ he asked.
‘Of course! How on earth could you get on without me? You’d be lost!’
‘I believe I would,’ he said gently, as he bent and kissed her, and then strolled out of the room.
Joan sat gazing at her plate for some time, with a very thoughtful expression on her face. She presented an exquisite picture of young womanhood as she sat there, with the rays of the early morning sun streaming through the wide-open window and shining on the chestnut glory of her shingled hair. She was seven years her brother’s junior and, unlike him, was rather small. Her eyes were almost unnaturally large and of a deep blue colour; her mouth was small and delicately shaped, and when she smiled could be seen a most perfect set of pearly white teeth; her nose was daintily set upon a face with the healthy complexion of the outdoor girl. But what impressed one most was the beauty of her hands and feet, which had caused several artists to go into raptures of admiration. Joan Shannon was a girl who was adored by hundreds, but she had never had a love affair, all her affection being given to her big, burly brother, whom she loved and admired as very few sisters do.
Presently she rose and, crossing to the window, looked out on to the park.
‘I wonder why Hugh is so keen on going to India,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t believe he has given up his work at the Foreign Office, he is too fond of it.’ She sighed. ‘I wish I knew what is behind it all.’
CHAPTER THREE
An Interview and a Chase
Prompt to the minute, Hugh walked into the Savoy Hotel, and asked to see Mr Mahommed Abdullah. Apparently he was expected, for he was at once directed to a lounge, where a dark-visaged man of rather less than medium height, dressed in a suit of some grey material, rose from the depths of an armchair to greet him. Obviously an Indian, the man appeared to be about fifty years of age, his hair was thinning on top and grey at the temples, while he had a slight stoop, which seemed to denote the scholar. In fact his whole bearing was that of a man who had devoted a great part of his life to study. He greeted Hugh with great politeness and, taking him by the arm, led him to a chair which he pulled up close to his own.
‘I am very glad to make your acquaintance, Captain Shannon,’ he said, as he sank into his seat, ‘and I congratulate you on your punctuality. Being a very busy man, I am naturally jealous of every wasted moment. I still have to interview four applicants for this post before six o’clock.’
‘Then you have had a good many replies to your advertisement?’ inquired Hugh.
‘Sixty-eight to be exact,’ replied the other, who spoke perfect English, without any trace of accent. ‘Of course a good many were unsuitable, but I have arranged to interview ten; you are the sixth.’
‘I hope you have not decided upon your man yet,’ smiled Hugh.
‘I have not! To be quite honest your application was the one which impressed me more than any others, and I hope that you will eventually be my choice.’
‘That is entirely in your hands, sir.’
Abdullah bowed.
‘I must tell you the circumstances,’ he said. ‘Sheranwala College, which is a Muslim institution affiliated to the University of Northern India, has not been upholding Mahommedan traditions. The governing body has, therefore, invited me to return to India, and take over the Principalship in the hope that I may be able to raise the College to the position it once held. For some time I hesitated, as I had fully made up my mind to settle down in this country for good. However, I was eventually persuaded to accept. I have been empowered to engage a first-class Englishman as Professor of English, and thus my advertisement. I may tell you that I desire the man I select to act as vice-principal and in fact to be my right hand man and general aide-de-camp. The salary is not large, of course, and I fear that most Englishmen would find it difficult to live on 500 rupees a month – Are you married?’
‘No; but I have a sister who will accompany me if I am selected.’
‘H’m! You have no private means, I suppose?’
‘I have enough to keep us, but it seems to me, sir, that in making an appointment of this nature, the authorities should be willing to pay an adequate salary.’
‘I quite agree with you, and I think I can promise to persuade them to make an increase, which will more than meet your needs. Now for your qualifications …’
For the next twenty minutes Abdullah was engaged in questioning Hugh closely about his school and college career, during which the latter discovered that the new Principal of Sheranwala College was a man of very deep learning. He had taken his Master of Arts degree at Cambridge, was a barrister, a retired financial commissioner, and an eminent economist. At the end of the interview Shannon had acquired a deep respect for the quiet-mannered little man, who had proved himself such an adept in questioning him.
‘Well I must say, Captain Shannon,’ remarked Abdullah, ‘that you meet our requirements in every respect, and I am now practically certain that you will be my choice, but, of course, you understand that I cannot say definitely until I have interviewed the remaining candidates.’
‘Certainly,’ replied Hugh.
‘In the event of your being appointed, a sum of seventy pounds will be placed at your disposal for travelling expenses. I am afraid that we cannot very well make any allowance for your sister.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ said Hugh. ‘It is hardly to be expected, is it?’
A few minutes later they parted, Abdullah escorting Hugh to the door of the lounge, where they shook hands. The latter made his way out of the hotel, and, declining the offer of a taxi-driver to take him ‘anywhere’, he strolled westwards feeling rather perturbed than otherwise at the success which seemed about to crown his application.
In spite of his high academical qualifications, it struck him that he was hardly the man to attempt to lecture on English literature to a collection of Muslim youths, when all his instincts, all his ambitions, were centred on his own job. However, it was the Chief’s wish and, after all, the appointment as a professor in a college was only a means to an end, and a very great and responsible end as far as Hugh was concerned. He looked forward to his work in India, but it was to his own particular work under the Intelligence Department, not the superficial duties of a member of the staff of Sheranwala College.
He had reached Trafalgar Square, and was turning in the direction of Whitehall, when he almost bumped into a little, sallow-faced man, with shifty eyes and a nose of a decidedly Semitic cast. With a muttered curse the little man skipped out of his way and dived across the road, but with an exclamation of surprise Hugh had recognised him, and without hesitation followed him. The Jew, with the activity of an eel, headed for St Martin’s Lane. Shannon, being big and burly, found it more difficult to get along, but he made fairly rapid headway, much to the resentment of the people he unceremoniously bundled out of his path. The chase went on past the Coliseum, then with a malignant backward glance, the little man turned into a small tea shop. Hugh was only a few seconds behind him, but when he entered the shop there was not a sign of his quarry, the place being occupied only by a couple of tired-looking waitresses, a man with a badly shaved jaw, obviously one of the many down-at-heel actors, who infest that part of London, and a fat old woman, just as obviously up from the country.
Hugh dashed by the tea room, and ran up a dingy flight of stairs. He found two or three offices, whose occupants stared at him in surprise, but to his enquiries they all declared that they had not seen anybody even resembling the man he was after. The same negative result awaited him on the other two floors and although he made a careful search – much to the indignation of the people he met, who naturally resented his headlong intrusion into their privacy – he was compelled to descend to the ground floor a puzzled and disappointed man.
‘Did you see a little, dark man – a Jew – enter this building?’ he asked the waitresses.
One of them giggled, while the other looked him up and down in a supercilious manner.
‘Do you think we have time to see everybody who comes in that door?’ she asked.
Hugh grinned.
‘No, I suppose not,’ he said, ‘still you might have noticed him.’
‘Well, we didn’t, so there!’ she snapped.
‘Pardon me, sir!’ said a deep voice, and Hugh swung round to confront the actor-looking person who, with a spoon in one hand and a piece of bread in the other, rose majestically to his feet. ‘I may say that I saw a rather insignificant specimen of the genus man,’ went on this individual. ‘He rushed by that door as though he were being chased.’ He indicated the direction in a lordly manner with the piece of bread.
‘Thanks!’ said Hugh. He turned again to the waitresses. ‘Where does that passage lead to?’ he asked.
‘Down to the kitchen, if you want to know,’ replied the supercilious one.
Hugh ran along the passage, and was about to turn down the stairs, when he noticed a wide-open window. He looked out on to a dirty little yard enclosed by a low brick wall, and groaned. His man had obviously gone that way; had climbed over the wall and disappeared down a lane, which Hugh knew must be somewhere about there, and which went down past Charing Cross Hospital.
‘Hang it all!’ he muttered. ‘What a fool I was to let him get away.’
He retraced his steps and, entering the tea room, ordered some tea and toast.
‘The least I can do after causing you this bother,’ he said, ‘is to sample your tea.’
‘Trying to be funny?’ asked the snappy waitress.
‘No,’ replied Hugh; ‘merely polite.’
She snorted, and went to give his order.
‘Sir,’ said the actor, ‘I fear you have failed in your quest. If I am not mistaken you are a detective in chase of a notorious criminal.’
‘Something like that,’ said Hugh cheerfully.
‘May I enquire who it was that you were after?’
‘Only one of the most dangerous men in London.’ And thereafter Hugh refused to be drawn further.
He drank his tea and ate his toast, watched by the occupants of the room with awe. Even the girl whose object in life seemed to be to treat others as rudely as she could, appeared almost to form a respect for him, though she remarked that her brother was a proper policeman and she could not see what they wanted to have these gentlemen upstarts in the force for.
Hugh bowed solemnly before taking his departure.
‘I am sorry I am such an upstart,’ he remarked with mock humility. ‘Please try to think a little better of me!’
Thereupon he gave her a tip, which made her blink, and strolled out of the shop. A tall, thin man, smartly clad in a brown suit, was standing on the curb. As Hugh came out he turned and, putting his arm through the other’s, strolled along with him.
‘Hallo, Spencer!’ exclaimed Shannon. ‘Where did you spring from and why the affection?’
‘I saw you dive into that place as though you were chasing the devil,’ replied Detective Inspector Spencer of the Special Branch of New Scotland Yard, ‘so I waited for results.’
‘There are no results,’ said Hugh sadly. ‘I lost my man. It wasn’t the devil either, though it was one of his most dangerous myrmidons.’
‘You intrigue me!’ murmured Spencer.
‘It was Kamper!’
The detective stood still and looked solemnly at Hugh.
‘Are you sure?’ he demanded.
‘Certain! I chased him from Trafalgar Square. The worst of it is that he almost bumped into me there, and if I hadn’t been day-dreaming, I would have had him.’
‘Moral: don’t day-dream!’ said Spencer. ‘But I can’t think how the little blighter got back to England. Why we saw him snugly off for Russia on board the Druid only ten days ago.’
‘Nevertheless he is back.’
They walked on together, each deep in his own thoughts.
‘Why didn’t you nab him in that building?’ asked Spencer suddenly.
Hugh hesitated a moment before replying, then:
‘I searched the top of the place, where I naturally thought he had gone—’
‘While he ran straight on I suppose, climbed through a window, over a wall, and dropped into Somers Lane!’
‘How do you know?’
‘This district is a pretty open book to me. I wish I had been with you, or had followed you in.’
‘I wish you had. No use searching the lane I suppose?’
‘Not a bit. Kamper is in a taxi by now, tearing down towards the East End. Well, we know he’s back, and that’s something. I’ll get straight down to the Yard, and warn them. Coming that way?’
Hugh nodded, and the two strolled down Whitehall. They parted near the Foreign Office, Hugh turning into the building which housed the mighty organisation of the department, which most people did not know existed, the British Secret Service, while Spencer continued on his way to Scotland Yard.
The Inspector went straight to his own office, and sat down before his desk.
‘I wonder how the devil Kamper came back,’ he muttered, ‘and why?’
CHAPTER FOUR
Confidences
Two days later Hugh received a long letter from Mahommed Abdullah appointing him to the post of Professor of English Literature of Sheranwala College, and asking him to make arrangements to leave for India as soon as possible. Abdullah himself was leaving practically at once, and hoped that Captain Shannon would not be long behind him. He added that a sum of seventy pounds would be immediately placed to Hugh’s credit in Grindlay’s Bank, and expressed his satisfaction that he would have the assistance of such an able man to help him build up the fortunes of Muslim education in Northern India.
Hugh passed the letter across to Joan with a smile. She read it with great seriousness, and then looked at her brother.
‘I suppose I must congratulate you, Hugh,’ she said; ‘but please tell me why you are doing this!’
‘I have already told you that I want to get back to India, and this job rather appealed to me.’
‘Is there no other reason?’
He hesitated a moment before replying.
‘No!’ he said.
She regarded him searchingly.
‘You are not telling me the truth,’ she said seriously. ‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t take me into your confidence: it cannot be because you are ashamed of something.’
He smiled across the breakfast table at her.
‘I can’t understand why you should think I have any other reasons,’ he said. ‘You say yourself that I cannot find anything to do at the Foreign Office. Isn’t it likely that I want to go somewhere, where I shall find something to do?’
She rose, and, coming round to his side of the table, put her hands on his shoulders.
‘I suppose you have your reasons,’ she said, ‘and perhaps you cannot divulge them, even to me. But I want to know that you are doing nothing to be ashamed of.’
He stood up and looked straight into her eyes.
‘No, Joan,’ he said; ‘there is no shame attached to what I am going to do – rather the reverse.’
‘Well, I won’t be inquisitive any more,’ she declared. ‘Now I suppose I must commence to get ready my outfit. What are you going to do?’
‘There is so much that I really don’t know where to begin,’ he said. ‘I must write first of all and accept the appointment, then I shall have to explain things at the Foreign Office, order my kit, collect the money from Grindlays, and – oh, a host of other things, including the booking of our passage.’
‘When shall we leave?’
‘The end of next week, if you can be ready by then, and we can get a boat.’
‘Oh, dear! What terribly short notice! Still I’ll see what can be done.’
She ran off, and in five minutes had turned the usually well-ordered flat into a scene of bustle. Hugh went out, and jumping into a taxi was driven to Whitehall. He found that the Deputy Chief had already arrived, and he asked for an interview, which was immediately granted.
Major Brien was standing on the hearthrug of his cosy office, when Hugh entered.
‘Morning, Shannon!’ he nodded. ‘Sit down! Everything fixed up, I suppose?’
‘Yes, sir!’ said Hugh. ‘I received the letter appointing me this morning.’ He handed it to the other, who read it through without any comment, before passing it back.
‘Well, there is nothing to delay you, is there?’ he asked.
‘No, sir!’
‘When do you think you can get away?’
‘By the end of next week, if I am lucky enough to get a couple of berths.’
‘Why a couple?’
‘My sister is coming with me, sir.’
‘Oh, is she? I’m glad to hear that, Shannon. If I were you, though, I should not take her into my confidence more than is absolutely necessary. I am sure that Miss Shannon is entirely reliable, but in a case like this the fewer in the know the better.’
‘She hasn’t the vaguest idea what the real reason for my taking this appointment is. As a matter of fact, sir, she does not even know that I am in the Secret Service.’
‘What!’ said Major Brien in astonishment. ‘Have you never told her?’
‘No, sir!’
‘Well, you’re a funny fellow! And you think she does not know?’
‘I’m sure of it!’
The Deputy Chief smiled.
‘If I were you,’ he said after a pause, ‘I should tell her. Something is bound to happen sooner or later which will rouse her suspicions, and ignorance is rather apt to breed unhappiness, more especially as I know you are very attached to each other.’
‘I let her think that I was still at the Foreign Office, sir. I thought it better not to tell her that I was attached to this department.’
‘How has she regarded your sudden disappearances from home?’
‘She has always thought that I went away on some duty connected with the Foreign Office.’
Major Brien shook his head.
‘Not good enough,’ he remarked. ‘No; I think you should tell her – You don’t want to go into details, of course, and in the present case just let her know that your work in India is partly connected with the Intelligence Department and that is all. You’ll have her full confidence and trust then, and you may find that a day will come when her woman’s wit may be of great use to you. I never did believe in being too secretive, and I know the Chief’s ideas are the same as mine.’
‘I have always acted on the saying, sir, that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.’
‘No knowledge at all is sometimes apt to be more dangerous. There is another reason, too, why it is necessary that she should know a little. Sir Leonard has decided to send out Cousins with you.’
Hugh looked surprised.
‘Won’t that rather give things away?’ he asked.
‘Not a bit! Why should it? Isn’t it very natural that your valet who has been with you for years should accompany you, especially as you prefer having an English servant to an Indian?’
Hugh appeared more astonished than ever.
‘Cousins my valet!’ he exclaimed, and then grinned. ‘By Jove!’ he said. ‘I am dense. But though I shall like having him with me, surely the fact of a professor with an English valet will cause comment. Five hundred rupees a month won’t keep my sister and myself, let alone an English servant.’
‘Oh, that’s all right,’ said Major Brien. ‘You let Abdullah know that you have private means, didn’t you?’
Hugh nodded.
‘Very well then, that is explained. Of course you did not want to take Cousins with you, but the devoted fellow pleaded so hard that you couldn’t very well refuse him. Later on you’ll grumble a bit before people out there at the extra expense, and Cousins will be accepted as a matter of course. Naturally there will be people who will scoff at your soft-heartedness and call you a young fool, but que voulez-vous!’
He shrugged his shoulders, and Hugh laughed.
‘The whole thing sounds rather like a joke,’ said the latter.
‘There’s no joke about it,’ said Major Brien. ‘You will have two duties to perform – one to your college, and one to us, and neither must be neglected. You must not in any way let your professorial work slide because we have taken advantage of a rather unique opportunity to send you out. Yours is going to be a difficult task, I’m afraid. Be careful not to fall between the two stools.’
‘Shall I have to stay out for the three years mentioned in that advertisement, sir?’
‘Your work might keep you all that time. If we want you back, no doubt we shall be able to arrange for your release. Now about Kamper. Are you quite sure that you saw him the other day?’
‘Positive, sir! If I had been quicker I would have caught him.’
‘It’s a pity you didn’t. There must be some further activity pending, since he has returned. If you were not going abroad I would put you on to it; as it is, Maddison is already engaged with Spencer in searching for him. He knows you, of course?’
‘Very well, sir!’
‘Well, let us hope that he won’t discover that you are off to India. If he does, your job will be rendered a hundred times more difficult.’
‘How can he find out?’
‘How do these Russian spies find out anything?’ said Major Brien bitterly. ‘Their system is so well organised that, in spite of all our efforts, they are almost as active as ever. Well, I won’t detain you any longer. No doubt you will be fully engaged preparing for your journey for the next few days. Don’t come near these offices any more! The Chief himself will see you at his house, and give you his final instructions before you sail.’
‘When am I to call there, sir?’ asked Hugh, rising from his chair.
‘He’ll ring you up, and let you know. I don’t suppose I shall see you again myself, so I wish you goodbye, and the best of luck.’
He held out his hand, and Hugh grasped it firmly, as he thanked him for his wishes.
‘Remember!’ said the Deputy Chief. ‘We rely upon you!’
Hugh was driven rapidly homeward, and burst in upon his sister, as she was directing the removal of trunks, boxes and suitcases from the box room to the garden, where they were to be aired. He put his arm in hers, and took her along to his own particular den. Placing an armchair for her, he put her into it, and then started to fill his pipe.
‘Why this?’ she asked.
‘I want to tell you something,’ he replied.
‘Be quick about it then, for I am terribly busy, and I warn you that you will only get monosyllables out of me for the next week. Have you booked the berths?’
‘Not yet!’
‘If you don’t hurry you won’t get any. This is the rush season, isn’t it?’
‘An hour or so won’t make any difference. Listen, Joan! I have been talking to Major Brien for the last hour.’
‘Do you mean that awfully nice man, who is so famous in the Intelligence Department?’
He nodded.
‘Yes! You’ve met him once or twice, haven’t you?’
‘You know I have at the Foreign Office “at ‘home’s” and parties. I adore Mrs Brien – But what have you been talking to him about. Surely you haven’t been trying to get into the Secret Service now, have you?’
He grinned.
‘I have an awful confession to make, old girl,’ he said.
‘Then you have?’
‘I have been in the Secret Service for quite a long time—’
She looked at him in astonishment.
‘Is that true, Hugh?’
‘Absolutely! Now you know why I have been rather secretive on occasions.’
There was a pause for a full minute before she spoke, then:
‘But how perfectly amazing!’ she said. ‘My Hugh a Secret Service man. And are you actually working under that wonderful Sir Leonard Wallace?’
‘I am!’
‘Oh, Hugh! Why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘Well, you see dear, I thought it wiser to keep quiet about it. This morning Major Brien rather made me see that I ought to tell you, in case misunderstandings ever arose between us.’
She caught hold of his arm, and pressed it.
‘Misunderstandings could never arise between us, dear old boy,’ she said. ‘I have suspected something for a long time, but couldn’t exactly place my suspicions. I am glad Major Brien made you tell me. Would you never have told me if he hadn’t suggested it?’
‘I don’t think so!’
‘Didn’t you trust me then?’
‘Of course! Only you see—’
‘You felt so important and so secretive that you wanted to keep it to yourself! I suppose you have been going into all sorts of dangers, and I didn’t know. Hugh, that was rather unkind of you, wasn’t it? We have never had any secrets from each other before.’
‘I know, Joan; but this was rather different, wasn’t it?’
‘How long have you been in the Secret Service?’ she asked, ignoring his question.
‘Nearly two years!’
‘Two years! And I never guessed!’ She looked at him with admiration. ‘You must be cleverer than I thought,’ she said.
‘Thank you!’ he said, bowing.
‘Then you are not going to India as a professor?’
‘I am – very much so! You saw my appointment. I shall take up the job as professor, and, I hope, do everything that is required of me. At the same time I have a mission from the Intelligence Department.’
‘How exciting! What is it?’
‘I cannot tell you any more, Joan. You must be satisfied with what I have told you.’
‘Of course I am. I’ll never question you in any way, and you shall tell me just as much, or just as little as you like for the future.’
‘That’s sporting of you, dear. You must be very careful never to give away by word or sign that I am not altogether what I seem.’
‘Of course not!’ she replied indignantly.
‘One of our men is coming out with us to help me. He is an awfully good fellow and you’ll like him once you get used to him.’
‘Is he very difficult then?’
‘No; but he takes a lot of understanding. He has been my valet for a good many years, and I hadn’t the heart to leave him behind, when he pleaded to come, in spite of the expense.’
She stared at him with wide-open eyes.
‘Hugh, what are you talking about?’
He grinned.
‘That is the tale for other people,’ he said, ‘and we shall have to get it so much into our minds that we’ll believe it ourselves.’
‘How thrilling it all sounds!’ she said with sparkling eyes.
‘Forget the thrills, dear! Remember that I am a dry-as-dust professor of English Literature from now on!’
‘I’ll remember,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘And now Mr Professor, run away and book our passage – I am getting anxious in case we have to wait for weeks.’
Hugh departed to do her bidding, while she returned to the maids in the box room. On the way she stopped to look at herself in a mirror.
‘What a revelation!’ she murmured. ‘Perhaps in time I may find myself acting as assistant to Hugh. Joan Shannon, of His Majesty’s Intelligence Department, sounds rather nice!’
CHAPTER FIVE
Enter Cousins
For several days Hugh Shannon’s flat in West Kensington was a scene of turmoil. Boxes, dressing-cases, trunks and suitcases littered every room and overflowed into the passages. Joan kept her two maids working at such high pressure that, in a remarkably short space of time, the flat was dismantled. She herself worked tremendously hard and never slacked, and Hugh became a veritable handy-man. Then order began to grow out of chaos, clothes were gradually packed away, and, at last, three days before the boat was due to sail, the inmates of the flat started to breathe easily once more.
Hugh had managed to get two very good berths on a mail boat, the Ispahan. He was very lucky, for the berths had originally been booked, strangely enough, by a man and his sister, who had been compelled to cancel them at the last moment, owing to some family bereavement. He had obtained a passport for Joan – he, of course, already had one himself – and had had a last interview with the Chief, who had given him final and careful instructions about his work in India. Thus it was that in the evening of the day, when all the heavy packing was at length complete, he sat down and sighed with relief.
‘Thank goodness, that’s done!’ he said. ‘Joan, I never knew you were such a slave driver!’
‘Well, you shouldn’t give one such short notice,’ she retorted. ‘Maud and Alice have been bricks, and I’d like to take them with me.’
He nodded.
‘They have worked hard,’ he said; ‘and as for you – you’ve been wonderful!’
‘Thank you!’ she replied with perfect composure. ‘I think I have! At all events I have done something which you did not think of.’
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘I found all your old books on English literature, and I’ve packed them in a trunk labelled “Wanted on Voyage”. You must be pretty rusty after all these years, and you’ll be able to refresh your memory on the way out.’
‘By jove! I never thought of that! You’re splendid!’
‘I rather think I am! Let us go out and have a gay evening. We haven’t had one together for some time, and I have no engagements tonight, have you?’
‘No!’ he said. ‘That’s rather a good notion. I daresay I’ll find an evening-suit somewhere.’
‘And with a little luck I might find a frock which hasn’t been packed. Hurry up, Hugh! I’ll be dressed first.’
‘You won’t!’ he declared. Then the door-bell rang.
‘If that is any of our sorrowing friends,’ said Joan, ‘I’ll scream!’
Presently one of the maids knocked, and entered the room. She looked as though she had received the surprise of her life.
‘Please, Miss,’ she said, ‘there is a man at the door, who says he is Captain Shannon’s valet. I told him that Captain Shannon hasn’t got a valet, and all he said was “go and tell your master I’ve come”.’
‘What is his name, Alice?’ asked Joan.
‘Why it’s old Cousins, of course,’ almost shouted Hugh. ‘He was my man for years, Alice, and he’s come back. Tell him to come along in!’
Alice departed, still with a look of surprise on her face.
‘Hugh,’ said Joan severely, ‘when did you learn to tell fibs with such ease?’
‘I really am getting positively awful,’ he grinned. ‘I’ll have to put the brake on, or it will become chronic.’
And then Joan sat straight up and stared. She had been very carefully brought up, but even carefully brought up young ladies are too surprised to remember their manners sometimes. Joan was very much surprised.
A most remarkable individual entered the room and, seeing her, bowed almost double. Not more than five feet in height, the newcomer had the figure of a boy of fourteen, but his face was so wrinkled that he might have been anything between thirty-five and sixty years of age. As a matter of fact he was forty-three. He was clad in a perfectly fitting blue serge suit, neat collar and tie, patent leather boots and spats. Over his left arm lay a beautifully folded rain-coat, and in his right hand a dark grey Stetson hat. Altogether he looked as though he had stepped out of a band-box.
Having completed his bow he straightened himself and glanced whimsically from Joan to Hugh and back again, and Joan found herself looking into a pair of the brightest eyes she had ever seen. They were a deep brown, but so sharp that they fascinated her, and it was almost with an effort that she drew her eyes from his, but the next moment she was looking at his mouth. Perhaps this was the most inviting part of his face. It was full of such humorous curves that involuntarily she smiled. He smiled too, and at once his face was a mass of the most extraordinary creases, each one of which appeared to be grinning at her. This was too much for Joan; her sense of humour got the better of her, and she broke into a peal of laughter. The little man laughed too, and the absurdity of the situation so tickled Hugh that he was compelled to join in, with the result that for some seconds the room resounded with their merriment. Alice stood at the door in astonishment, but she also found it impossible to control her laughter, and stuffing a handkerchief into her mouth, she hastened to the kitchen, where she collapsed into a chair, much to Maud’s alarm.
‘O-oh!’ gasped Joan, as soon as she had regained control of herself. ‘I’m awfully sorry.’
She blushed with embarrassment.
‘Not at all,’ replied the little man. ‘A most charming introduction I’m sure. There is nothing more conducive to friendship than laughter. Doctor Johnson says that—’
‘Never mind Doctor Johnson, Cousins,’ interrupted Hugh. ‘This is my sister! Joan, this is Cousins, my valet who has pleaded so hard to come to India with me!’
Joan held out her hand, which Cousins took with the air of a cavalier of the seventeenth century.
‘I am very glad to meet you, Mr Cousins!’ said Joan, smiling. ‘I am sure you are the ideal valet.’
‘Ideal is not descriptive enough, Miss Shannon,’ he replied. ‘There never was, and never will be, such a valet as I. “Clothes maketh the man” is the basis of my religion; you’ll be astonished at the difference in your brother, after I have taken him in hand.’
‘I’ll punch your head if you interfere with me, Cousins,’ said Hugh; ‘that is, more than is necessary for appearances’ sake.’
‘When I undertake a job, sir, I do it properly. You haven’t a word to say in the matter.’
Hugh looked helplessly at his sister.
‘I’m in for a lively time, Joan,’ he said.
‘Not at all,’ put in Cousins. ‘You are about to enter the most triumphant period of your life; that is, since I left your service. We mustn’t forget that I have been your valet for years – I’ve merely been away for a year or so looking after a dying relative.’ He looked at Joan. ‘How long have you had your maid, Miss?’ he queried.
‘Maud has been with us for eighteen months,’ she answered, ‘and Alice for just over a year.’
‘Then twenty months ago I went away to nurse my dying uncle – he was most inconsiderate and took far too long to die. But here I am back again, sir, and I refuse to leave you any more.’
Joan laughed.
‘You are rather callous about your poor uncle,’ she said. He shrugged his shoulders in a manner almost French.
‘He left me far less in his will than I expected. As Marcus Aurelius says—’
‘What are you going to do now?’ interrupted Hugh hastily.
Cousins raised his eyebrows slightly.
‘Stay here until we sail, of course,’ he announced.
‘But, my dear chap, the place is dismantled,’ expostulated Hugh.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ said the little man. ‘I will fit in like a piece in a jigsaw puzzle. All my heavy stuff has already gone to the docks – I have merely brought a portmanteau here. As Gladstone said in 1887—’
Hugh again interrupted him.
‘Everybody knows what Gladstone said in 1887,’ he remarked.
‘But you don’t know what he said about portmanteaux,’ said Cousins solemnly.
‘And I don’t want to. What I want to know is, have you booked your berth?’
‘Certainly! It was very slack of my employer to forget his man when booking the passage, but your letter and ten crisp five pound notes did the trick, and I am the proud possessor of an upper berth, second class in the RMS Ispahan.’
‘Good!’ said Hugh. ‘And now you must excuse us, as we are going to dine out, and do a theatre, and we are already rather late.’
Cousins spread out his hands.
‘I’ll find the kitchen and the pretty little maid who let me in,’ he replied. ‘But first of all I’d better come and tie your bow for you!’
‘You dare!’ returned Hugh, and he and Joan went off to dress.
Cousins repaired to the hall, picked up his portmanteau and found his way to the kitchen. Thereafter there were periods of silence punctuated by bursts of laughter from that direction. Hugh smiled at his reflection in the glass, as he was tying his bow.
‘My valet is going to make life very bearable in India,’ he murmured.
A couple of hours later Joan settled herself comfortably in her stall at the Winter Garden Theatre. The curtain had not yet gone up.
‘What an extraordinary man Mr Cousins is,’ she remarked. ‘Do you know, Hugh, I felt most awfully guilty for laughing at him, but he passed it off almost as though it were a compliment.’
‘That is Cousins’ way,’ said Hugh. ‘He is a very good fellow, but, as I told you, he takes a lot of understanding.’
‘He doesn’t look a bit like a Secret Service man,’ she declared. ‘He would probably have made a fortune on the stage as a comedian.’
‘And yet,’ said Hugh, ‘he is one of the cleverest men in the service. He has been everywhere almost, and speaks six languages fluently. If you could get him to talk about himself he would tell you some of the most amazing things. He stands high in the confidence of Sir Leonard Wallace, and it is rather a compliment to me that he has been selected to accompany me to India.’
‘I am sure I am going to like him,’ said Joan. ‘The difficulty will be to know when to take him seriously.’
‘Very few people know when to do that. But when he starts quoting from poets or philosophers or scientists, stop him, or you’ll have reams of stuff poured into your bewildered head. Really, I don’t think there is any branch of the arts or sciences with which Cousins is not familiar.’
The curtain rose at that juncture and Joan turned her attention to the popular musical show which had captivated all London.
CHAPTER SIX
A Fancy Dress Dance
The Ispahan ploughed her way through the waters of the Mediterranean. She had taken on the majority of her passengers at Marseilles, and now, two days out from that port, she was approaching the Straits of Messina and people who had hitherto held themselves aloof were beginning to greet each other as old acquaintances.
Hugh Shannon, with great seriousness of purpose: had settled down to read over once more his many books on English literature in order to brush up his memory on the subject in which he had specialised at Oxford. Joan, on the other hand, devoted herself heart and soul to the amusements of boardship life, and very quickly became the leader of most of the activities of the first saloon. At first she and Hugh had considered travelling overland to Marseilles, and taking the boat on from there, but Joan had such a love for the sea that she preferred joining the ship at Gravesend and going the whole way on the bosom of the ocean, and thus it was decided. Cousins, who had very little liking for the Bay of Biscay, pleaded to be allowed to join at Marseilles, and he came aboard and reported himself at that port, almost before the vessel had tied up.
There was the usual conglomeration of passengers that is to be found on any ship travelling to India in the busy season. Indians returning from a trip to Europe, full of their own importance and stuffed full of platitudes; Indian Army officers and their wives, whose holiday at home for a few short months had given them a fresh lease of healthful life; members of the Indian Civil Service, who appeared to regard themselves almost as the Lord’s anointed and treated all others with the patronising manner peculiar to their service; young bank clerks, thinking themselves mighty important fellows and embryo builders of empire railway officials; police officials; forestry officials – all were there, and Hugh in his spare moments found himself watching these others and getting any amount of quiet fun from their peacock mannerisms.
Joan was a wise little lady, in spite of her youth and inexperience, and she soon began to find a great deal of humour in what she described as the plethora of artificiality that existed around her. However, she found several young girls, and one or two young men, who were almost as natural and simple as herself, and with these she organised games, dances, and musical evenings which were very enjoyable, and helped to pass the time pleasantly.
