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Authors: Alexander Wilson

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After dancing twice with people he would rather never have met, Hugh found his way to the corner table he had reserved for Joan and himself. It was vacant and he sank into a chair with a feeling of intense boredom. Presently Joan arrived on the arm of one of the men who had formed a circle around Groves at the bar. It almost hurt him to see his sister in such company, but there was nothing he could
do but bow to the inevitable of Indian social life. He forced a smile as Durrell, a fair-haired, conceited fop, led Joan to her chair.

‘I have been trying to persuade your sister to take part in a charity concert I am getting up,' said the elegant, ‘but she will not give a definite answer. You'll add your persuasive powers to mine, won't you?'

‘My sister is her own mistress!' said Hugh. ‘I'm afraid I cannot influence her.'

‘I'll think it over, and let you know in a day or two, Mr Durrell,' said Joan, smiling at him in a manner that had captivated many impressionable young men.

He bowed and withdrew, his eyes eloquent of unspoken thoughts.

‘Oh, Joan!' groaned Hugh. ‘Isn't this atmosphere awful? I am longing for some wholesome, outdoor air to chase away the thoughts of these people, and their narrow, mean outlook on life.'

She touched his arm.

‘I know, dear,' she said. ‘I feel just like you. I often wish that I had never left England. But we'll stick it, Hugh, until your work is finished.'

‘I hate to think of your being thrown among these creatures, Joan.'

‘I know you do, dear old boy, but I've got you to look after me and there are Mr Miles and Mr Cousins and a few others who are – gentlemen!'

‘Say,' said a voice behind them, ‘I've been looking for you folks all the evening.'

Miles looked at them with the pleased smile of one who had found friends.

‘Pull a chair up, and have a drink, Oscar!' said Hugh, using the other's Christian name for the first time. ‘You're the man we've been waiting for!'

‘How did you know I was coming here? I remember saying, when I went out to dinner, that I didn't think I would.'

‘I know. Perhaps I should have said, you're the
type
of man we've been waiting for.'

Miles looked at him curiously.

‘Guess something's got your goat, Hugh,' he said.

‘Yes; these awful people have!' muttered Shannon.

The other grinned.

‘Don't let them worry you any!' he remarked. ‘They can't help themselves – I think the climate may have something to do with it and certainly the life that some white people live out here is real bad for them in many ways. They regard themselves as the Lord's chosen, and everybody else as dirt beneath their feet. It can't hurt you or me, or Miss Joan, so I guess it's best to let them tread their rotten little path, and not bother about them.'

‘But one has to meet them, to listen to them, to dance with them and if one disagrees with their snobbishly expressed opinions they look as though they have met some strange insect which should be put out of the way. Only a few minutes ago I ventured to disagree with a certain lady's unkind comments upon a young man, whom she considered was not the type who should be admitted to the Club. He had received a first-class education, but had not been to a public school, and above all was in a most subordinate position.'

Miles chuckled.

‘I can just imagine the dear old thing speaking,' he said; ‘nose in air, a dainty sniff at intervals, and a pained droop of the eyelids. You'll be getting yourself unpopular if you disagree with these dames. What did she say when you dared to contradict her?'

‘She looked me up and down, gave a wintry smile and turning to
another woman the same type as herself said, quite distinctly enough for me to hear, “Professor Shannon is quite nice, but has the most extraordinary ideas!” And the other remarked that most professors were eccentric.'

Joan and Miles laughed, and presently his sense of humour getting the better of him, Hugh joined in.

‘It has its funny side,' said Joan, ‘though it is rather pathetic to reflect that those people are our countrymen and women.'

‘And what makes it worse,' went on Hugh, ‘is that nearly every man here tonight swears he is from an English public school. They go about in the daytime sporting old boys' ties; and I bet not half of them have the right to wear them.'

‘How do they get them then?' inquired Miles.

‘Why there are shops in London where one can buy ties of any old boys' association. Man alive, the spirit of a public school dies hard in one, and a real public school man would never stoop to the petty meanness that these fellows show. I bet I could pick out the real old boys amongst them.'

‘This public school spirit is a bit of a shibboleth with you folks, isn't it? We've got nothing like it in the States.'

‘It is at home, but out here it is ruined and made a laughing stock of by the conduct of the men who are supposed to be the results of a public school education. I sometimes think that you, Oscar, and people of your nationality must quietly laugh at us and feel rather a contempt for our cheap egoism.'

‘You're being a little drastic, Hugh,' returned Miles. ‘I have some sense; quite enough to know that it is only in India that your compatriots lose their best characteristics; and that is because they are members of the ruling race.'

‘Ruling race, pshaw!' said Hugh in deep disgust. He swept his
arm round in a comprehensive gesture. ‘Behold the rulers!' he said bitterly.

‘I get you,' nodded the American. ‘About one half look as though they couldn't rule a dustbin!'

‘They've no broad-mindedness, no understanding, they are puffed up with their own imagined importance. If a little bit of scandal touches one of them, the rest edge away, raise their noses in the air, and look at each other askance, while all the time their own inner lives wouldn't bear looking into. Thank God, there are some people here in India who retain all that is best in them, and, by Jove! It is jolly good to get among them, and away from the snobs and their erotic sycophants!'

‘Forget it, Hugh!' said Miles, patting him on the shoulder. ‘Miss Joan, I came from that dinner on purpose to ask you for a dance.'

A minute later he and Joan whirled away to the strains of a waltz.

By the time the supper interval arrived, Hugh's good humour was completely restored. He had found some of the people he appreciated, and had danced twice with Miss Rainer, the Deputy Commissioner's daughter, a pretty dark-haired girl, who possessed an abundance of common sense as well as good looks.

He took her in to supper, and they sat with Joan and Miles at a table in a secluded part of the room. Close by were Groves and Miss Palmer seated with a plump little lady, Mrs Renfrew – who knew all about everybody in Lahore and added a great deal more – and her attendant cavalier, a tall, thin, vacuous-looking man, who possessed a wife, but was never seen with her.

Shannon introduced Miles to Groves and his party, and Miss Palmer immediately started talking to the American about her
Besil
, as she pronounced his name in her affected way. Miles listened politely, occasionally getting a word in himself, and at last he leant back towards Groves, who was behind him, and said, in a tone of admiration.

‘Say,
Besil
, I guess you're some fellow. I'm real glad to make your acquaintance!'

Proceedings threatened to become dislocated for a moment. Joan stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth to prevent herself from laughing. Helen Rainer actually did laugh, while Hugh grinned. Groves smiled as though he was not quite sure what to make of the American, but an angry frown appeared on Miss Palmer's brow. The other two merely looked surprised. Miles glanced round with an expression of such bland innocence that presently normality was restored. But Miss Palmer felt impelled to say something to protect her fiancé's dignity.

‘Mr Groves is not usually called by his Christian name,' she stated.

‘Is that so?' asked Miles in a puzzled tone. ‘What's it for then?'

‘I mean to say that only his great friends, and of course myself, call him by it.'

‘That's a pity!
Besil
is a nice name.'

Groves gave one of his hoarse laughs.

‘Miss Palmer is rather foolish at times!' he said.

She gave him a look that should have quietened him, but Groves prided himself on his reputation for hearty good fellowship.

‘We'll have something worth drinking,' he said loudly. ‘Boy!'

A bearer was immediately forthcoming, and was given an order for champagne. As soon as it was brought, Groves insisted upon the occupants of both tables being served, and would take no refusals. Then raising his glass:

‘Here's prosperity!' he said, in a voice which carried halfway across the room.

Thereafter Miss Palmer was unable to control the conversation, and she became petulantly quiet in consequence.

An extraordinary thing about dance suppers in Lahore is that the
piéce
de resistance
, as Hugh described it, is invariably sausages and mashed potatoes. Miles regarded his plate with amusement.

‘I guess the little fellows have lost their way,' he said.

Mrs Christopher, who did the catering at most functions, and on special occasions appeared herself, happened to be passing at the time. She was a large ample lady of stately aspect who moved with all the dignity of one of Nelson's three-deckers.

‘Is there anything else you would prefer?' she asked in a deep voice.

Miles looked up at her pleasantly.

‘Not on your life, Ma,' he replied. ‘I'm tickled to death, and give the little fellows a hearty greeting.'

With slow and solemn steps she passed on.

‘Gee!' said the irrepressible American. ‘I've met my affinity, Hugh. When Oscar J. settles down, if ever, it would gladden his heart to see Ma seated at the other end of his connubial table.'

Mr Rainer came up towards the end of supper, and asked Joan for the dance she had promised him. She smilingly went off with him followed by Miles with Miss Rainer, whom he kept in a state of amusement the whole time they were dancing. Hugh once more offered himself to Miss Palmer. This time, a little to his surprise, he was accepted, for he thought that he had offended her and she was not the sort to forgive easily. However, he soon knew the reason for her acceptance; she kept up a running commentary on the American all through the dance, some of her remarks being more than a little barbed. He decided not to argue with her, as the best means of quieting her, and she became more and more annoyed when she saw the little effect her words had upon him, while his unruffled smile made her want to box his ears. At last the dance was over, and she refused an encore.

‘Take me to
Besil
, please!' she said peremptorily.

When the Deputy Commissioner brought Joan back, he bowed her into her chair, then turned to Hugh:

‘Perhaps you can spare a few minutes now, for our little chat, Shannon,' he said.

They found their way out of the ballroom into the bar, and presently settled themselves in a quiet corner. Mr Rainer ordered drinks and not a word was spoken until the bearer had placed them on a small table before them, then:

‘Of course I cannot say much here,' began the Deputy Commissioner in a low voice, ‘but I wanted to tell you that Sir Reginald Scott has received a private despatch from the India Office informing him of certain things, and enclosing a letter from Sir Leonard Wallace—'

Hugh nodded.

‘In that letter,' went on Rainer, ‘Sir Leonard informs His Excellency of your secret activities out here. I was immediately sent for and, under the pledge of secrecy, told of the fact. The Governor of course is highly intrigued, and desires me to take you to him tomorrow evening at six o'clock. You will make that time convenient?'

‘I am at His Excellency's service at any time,' replied Hugh.

‘Good! I must say,' he smiled, ‘that I am surprised myself. I had no idea that you were anything but the professor you appear to be. I know Sir Leonard Wallace well, and we in India are under a great debt of obligation to him. But I thought that he had entirely cleansed this country of spies a year or two ago, and yet from what the Governor let drop, I should imagine that your activities are connected with the same thing?'

Hugh smiled.

‘When I tell you what we have discovered,' he said, ‘I rather fancy you will be amazed.'

‘You raise my curiosity, Shannon! But you said “we”. Have you an assistant with you?'

‘Cousins, my valet, is in reality a member of my department.'

The Deputy Commissioner whistled.

‘Indeed!' he murmured. ‘I have heard about him. In fact,' he smiled, ‘one or two people have made rather caustic remarks, in my hearing, about what they described as the absurdity of a man in your position having an English manservant with you.'

‘I expected that,' laughed Hugh. ‘I have also another assistant,' he went on, ‘one who attached himself to Cousins and me quite voluntarily. We met him on the boat and it turned out that he and Cousins are warm friends.'

‘Does he know much about – things?' asked Rainer.

‘He knows all. In fact, he was instrumental in finding out a great deal.'

The other frowned slightly.

‘Is it not rather injudicious to take into your confidence a man not in your service?' he asked thoughtfully.

‘Not in the least,' smiled Hugh, then added in a whisper. ‘It is Miles!'

‘Miles!' exclaimed the man known to everybody as the D.C. ‘Not the American?'

‘Yes! He is a member of the United States' Secret Service, and is in this business with us on behalf of his own country!'

‘Great Scot! You amaze me! Why nobody on earth would imagine Miles to be anything but a harmless and wealthy wanderer.'

‘All the better,' said Shannon. ‘As a matter of fact he is remarkably astute. I owe all I know to him and Cousins. The job would have been too big for me alone!'

‘Then the position is serious?' Rainer asked eagerly.

‘It is very serious. I will tell you this much now: there is the greatest plot brewing against Great Britain that probably the world has ever seen.'

‘Good heavens!'

‘By the way, sir, we must not go to Government House together tomorrow!'

‘Why not?'

‘Because I am watched!'

Rainer started.

‘Who is watching you?' he asked.

‘Spies of the other party! I can hardly make a move without its being known. Tomorrow you must go alone. I will shake off my shadowers somehow and come along in my little car.'

‘Then your real position is known?'

‘To these people, unfortunately, yes. I daresay that I am even being watched tonight.'

The Deputy Commissioner sighed.

‘You live a very dangerous life,' he said.

‘It has its compensations,' said Hugh; ‘and I would not change it for any other. I was at the Foreign Office for some time, but I found things too dull for me there. It was chiefly through the help of Major Brien that I was transferred to the Intelligence Department.'

Rainer smiled.

‘Major Brien is another man for whom I have a great admiration,' he said. ‘He was out here with Sir Leonard. By the way,' he asked, ‘does Miss Shannon know of your connection with the Secret Service, and the real reason for your presence in India?'

‘She knows everything,' replied Hugh.

‘Ah!' said the Deputy Commissioner. ‘I can see that she is as reliable as she is beautiful!'

‘She is the best sister in the world,' said Hugh, with a totally uncalled-for emphasis.

Rainer nodded understandingly.

At that moment Novar and Rahtz entered the room. They came across to Rainer and Shannon and greeted them rather loudly. Hugh caught a swift glance of suspicion exchanged between them.

‘The Professor and the Deputy Commissioner,' laughed Novar. ‘A strange combination surely!'

‘Not so strange as it may look,' smiled Rainer. ‘Captain Shannon and I come from the same little bit of England, and I knew his parents very well indeed.'

Hugh chuckled inwardly at his companion's quick wit.

‘Ah!' said Rahtz. ‘The combination is explained. We must drink to further combinations.'

Shannon wondered what he meant, but accepted the drink he ordered.

When the four had the glasses of whisky and soda in their hands, Rahtz held his high.

‘I'll give you a toast suggested by this happy meeting of our respected D.C. and Shannon. The world is small; may it grow smaller!'

The toast was drunk laughingly, but there was a warning gleam in Novar's eyes as he looked at his companion.

For some minutes the four stood talking, then Hugh excused himself, and went off to find his sister. A dance was in progress when he entered the ballroom, and for a few minutes he stood watching the efforts of the various couples to do the Charleston. Presently he espied Joan and Miles near the centre of the room, and stood lost in admiration. The Charleston is not a pretty dance, but when done by experts it can be made quite artistic. Joan was a glorious dancer, and
every movement she executed was full of grace, but what surprised Hugh was the discovery that Miles was such a graceful performer. He watched them enraptured. They made the dance almost a poem. And others were watching them too, for gradually the other dancers stopped to look on until at last Joan and Miles were alone. Then there broke out a great spontaneous burst of hand-clapping from all parts of the vast room.

Joan looked round, realised the situation, and suddenly stopped dancing; and, with her face as red as fire, ran to her chair, followed by the American. From everywhere came demands for an encore, and prolonged clapping, but to all requests Joan turned a deaf ear, until Hugh made his way to her side, and added his entreaties to those of the rest. Then, now pale when before she had been crimson, she walked out with Miles to the centre of the floor; the band struck up, and she and the American gave an exhibition of the Charleston that Lahore had never seen before, nor dreamt of seeing. As they went on she forgot the crowd watching and danced exquisitely. Joan and her partner became famous, and their dance was talked of for long afterwards. At last it was finished and amidst thunderous applause she walked back to her seat a little unsteadily, followed by her grinning companion who took it all apparently in the most composed fashion.

‘Oh, Hugh,' said Joan with embarrassment, ‘it was awful!'

‘I guess we'll have to go on the halls after this, Miss Joan,' said Miles.

‘I don't believe you minded a bit.' She looked reproachfully at him.

‘I didn't,' he confessed. ‘I enjoyed every minute of it.'

‘If only Cousins were here,' sighed Hugh, ‘what a chance he would have had for one of his quotations!'

‘Poor old Jerry!' said Miles. ‘He gets all the work, and none of the fun.'

‘I'm not so sure about that,' put in Joan. ‘I think he has quite a good time with his friends at the Railway Institute. Only the other day he told me that he danced quite a lot there!'

‘I guess Jerry didn't put it like that,' said the American.

She laughed.

‘No. As a matter of fact he said that he occasionally twiggled a terpsichorean toe!'

There was a lull in the proceedings while the band took a much needed rest. Close to their corner Miss Palmer, Groves and their friends were seated, and near by some of the old dowagers, who spent their time in scandal-mongering.

Miss Palmer leant across to Joan.

‘You danced beautifully,' she said. ‘I did admire it so. I suppose you have done it professionally, haven't you?'

‘Of course not!' replied Joan indignantly.

Then Miles clutched Hugh's arm.

‘It's come!' he said tensely. ‘Get a tight hold on yourself, boy!'

Hugh looked up in astonishment, and his heart missed a beat; he felt a premonition of coming evil. Right across the middle of the floor, in all the glory of a mauve evening-gown, the cynosure of all eyes, and looking insolently from side to side, came Olive Gregson, and she was making straight for their table. Joan went as pale as death, while Miles swore under his breath.

BOOK: The Devil's Cocktail
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