Chapter 11

To cover a trail is less than half the work, for any dog with a nose
can smell it out. You should make a false trail afterward to deceive
the clever folk. -Eastern Proverb

"Say: that little girl you’re wanting to run off with is my wife!"

The other side to the intrigue developed furiously up at the Baines’
house on the hillside. Yasmini gave directions from Tess’s bedroom,
where Tess hid her from prying servants, she electing to change clothes
once more—this time into her hostess’ riding breeches, boots and helmet.
But she insisted on Tess retaining the Rajput costume, only allowing
a hand-bag to be packed with woman’s things, skirt, blouse and so on.
 

"If I am seen there must be no mistake about me. They must swear
that I am you! It doesn’t matter who they believe that you are. Above all,
Chamu the butler must not see me. When he is dismissed in the
morning he will tell tales for very spite, and take his chance of my
accusing him of theft; so be sure that he sees Tom Tripe search the cellar.
Then he will confirm to the maharajah afterward that Tripe did search—
and did see something—and that Blaine sahib did lock the cellar door
afterward in anger, and put weights on it. That is the important thing.
Blaine sahib must drive the carriage again to the house of Mukhum Dass;
and be sure that I am not kept waiting there—we must start before the
dawn breaks! Now give me paper and a pen to write the chit (letter) for
Mukhum Dass."

There was no ink in the bedroom; Dick took her into the place he called
his study, and locked the door, glad of the excuse. He was minded
to know more of the intrigue before letting his wife go off again that
night on any wild adventure, second thoughts having stirred his caution.
He began by offering to lend her money, suspecting that a fugitive
princess would need that more than anything. But she replied by drawing
out from her bosom a packet containing thousands of rupees in Bank
of India notes, and gave him money instead—not much, but she forced
it on him.

"For the three beggars. Ten rupees each. Pay it them in silver in the
morning. They have been very useful often, and may be so again."

He watched her write the letter and seal the envelope. Then:

"Say," he said, "don’t you think you’d be doing right by telling me more
of this? I’ll say nothing to a soul, but that little girl you’re wanting to
run off with is my wife, and I’ll admit I’m kind o’ concerned on her account."

Yasmini met his iron-gray eyes, judged him and found him good.

"I never trusted man yet, not even the husband I shall marry, with all

I shall tell you," she answered. "Will you give me silence in return for it?"

 

"Mum as the grave," he answered. And Dick Blaine kept his word, not
even hinting to Tess on the long drive afterward that there had been
as much as a question asked or confidence exchanged. And Tess
respected the silence, not deceived for a minute by it. He and Yasmini
had been longer in that room together than any one-page letter needed,
and she was sure there was only one subject they discussed.

Dick brought Yasmini’s horse to the gate, not to the door, and she
mounted outside in the road for additional precaution. Instantly, then,
without a word of farewell she was off like the wind down-hill.

"It’ll be all over town tomorrow that I’m dead or dying, if anybody sees
her!" Dick told his wife. "They’ll swear that was you, Tess, riding full
pelt for the doctor!"

Soon after that Tom Tripe came, and made Chamu hold a light for
him while he searched the cellar.

"Hold the candle and your tongue too, confound you!" he told the
grumbling butler, indignant at being brought from bed.

Dick had already put the silver tube in place. Tom Tripe raised the
stone and saw it—uttered a tremendous oath—and dropped the heavy
stone back over the hole.

"What are you doing?" Dick demanded from the ladder-head, appearing
with a lantern from behind the raised trap.

"Looking for rum!" Tom answered. Then he turned on Chamu. "Did
you see what I saw? Speak a word of it, you devil, and I’ll tear your
throat out! Silence, d’you understand?"

"Come out of there!" Dick ordered angrily. "I’ll have to lock this cellar
door! I can’t have people prospecting down there! I’ve got reasons
of my own for keeping that cellar undisturbed! I’m surprised at you,
Tom Tripe, taking advantage of me when my back’s turned!"

The minute they were up he put a padlock on the trap, and nailed it
down to the beams as well. Then, summoning Tom’s aid, he levered
and shoved into place on top of it the heavy iron safe in which he kept
his specimens and money.

"That’ll do for you, Chamu!" he said finally. "I don’t care to keep a butler
who takes guests into the cellar at this hour of night! You may go. I’ll
give you your time in the morning."

Chamu showed his teeth, by no means for the first time. It was a favorite
method of his for covering up bad service to fall back on his reference.

"Maharajah sahib who is recommending me will not be pleased at
my dismissal!"

"You and your maharajah go to hell together!" Dick retorted. "Tell him
from me that I won’t have inquisitive people in my cellar! Now go;
there’s nothing more to talk about. Fire the cook, too, as soon as he
wakes! Tell him I don’t like ground glass in my omelette! Not been
any in it? Well, what do I care? I don’t want any in it—that’s enough!
I’m taking no chances. Tell him he’s fired, and you two pull your freight
together in the morning first thing!"

Ten minutes alone with Yasmini had worked wonders with Dick Blaine.
Given to making up his mind and seeing resolution through to stern
conclusions, he was her stout ally from the moment when he unlocked
the study door again until the end—a good silent ally too busy, apparently,
about his own affairs to be suspected. Certainly Samson never suspected
his real share in the intrigue—Samson, the judge of circumstances,
indiscretions, men and opportunity.

He sent Tom Tripe packing, with a flea in his ear for Chamu’s benefit,
and a whispered word of friendship. Later he drove Tess down-hill in
the dog-cart, first changing his own disguise for American clothes
because the saises might be up and about when he returned at dawn,
and for them to see him in the costume of a sais would only have added
to the risk of putting Gungadhura’s men on the scent of Yasmini.
Saises are almost the most prolific source of rumor, but he had a means
of stilling their tongues.

There was little to say during the dark drive. They were affectionate,
those two, without too many words when it came to leave-taking, each
knowing the other’s undivided love. Tess had money—a revolver—
cartridges—some food—sufficient change of clothing for a week—
sun-spectacles; he reassured himself twice on all those points.

"If you’re camel-sick, fetch it up and carry, on," he advised, "it’ll soon
pass. Then a hot bath, if you can get it, before you stiffen. Failing that, oil."

The camels, with Yasmini and her women already mounted, were kneeling
in the darkness outside the house of Mukhum Dass.

"Come!" called Yasmini. "Hurry!"

Dick kissed his wife—waved his hand to Yasmini—helped Tess on to
the last camel in the kneeling line—and they were off, the camel-men
not needing to shout to make those Bikaniri racers rise and start. They
were gone like ghosts into the darkness, making absolutely no noise,
before Dick could steady his nervous horse.

Then Ismail wanted to tie Yasmini’s abandoned horse to the tail of the
dog-cart, but Dick sent him off to stable it somewhere at the other side
of town to help throw trackers off the scent. He himself drove home
by a very wide circuit indeed, threading his cautious way among the
hills toward the gold-diggings, where he drove back and forward several
times around the edges of the dump, in order that the saises might
see the red dirt on the wheels afterward and believe, and tell where
he had been.

There was some risk that a panther, or even a tiger might try for the
horse in the dark, but that was not the kind of danger that disturbed
Dick Blaine much. A pistol at point-blank range is as good as a rifle
most nights of the week. He arrived home after daylight with a very
weary horse, and ordered the saises to wash the wheels at once, in
order that the color of the dirt might be impressed on them thoroughly.
They were quite sure he had been at the mine all night. Then he paid
off Chamu and the cook and sent them packing.

He was looking for the beggars, to pay them, when Tom Tripe’s dog
arrived and began hunting high and low for Tess. Trotters had something
in his mouth, wrapped in cloth and then again in leather. He refused
to give it to Dick, defying threats and persuasion both. Dick offered
him food, but the dog had apparently eaten—water, but he would not drink.

Then the three beggars came, and watched Dick’s efforts with the
interest of spectators at a play.

"Messenge!" said Bimbu finally, nodding at the dog. That much was
pretty obvious.

"Princess!" he added, seeing Dick was still puzzled. It flashed across
Dick’s mind that on the dresser in the bedroom was Tess’s hat that
Yasmini had worn. Doubtless to a dog’s keen nose it smelt of both
of them. He ran to fetch it, the dog followed him, eager to get into the
house. He offered the hat to the dog, who sniffed it and yelped eagerly.

"Bang goes fifty dollars, then!" he laughed.

He took the hat to Bimbu.

"Can you ride a camel?" he demanded.

The man nodded. "Another would drive it."

"Do you know where to get one?"

Bimbu nodded again.

"Take this hat, so that the dog will follow you, and ride by camel to the
home of Utirupa Singh. Here is money for the camel. If you overtake
the princess there will be a fabulous reward. If you get there soon
after she does there will be a good reward. If you take too long on
the way there will be nothing for you but a beating! Go—hurry—get a
move on! And don’t you lose the dog!"