Part 11

That his Russian friend was animated by the same desire he could all the easier surmise, owing to the fact that Prince Tchajawadse belonged, of course, to one of the nations immediately concerned. He hastened, therefore, to acquaint him with the results of his interview with Colonel Baird. The effect of his communications upon the Prince was quite as he had anticipated.

“So, really! The advance guard is already across the Amu Darya. War will, then, break out just in the proper quarter,” exclaimed the Russian in a loud outburst of joy. “In our army the fear prevailed that the Tsar would never brace himself up to the decision to make war. Powerful and irresistible influences must have been at work to have finally conquered his love of peace.”

“You will, of course, get to the army as soon as possible?” inquired Heideck; and as the Prince answered in the affirmative, he continued: “I should be grateful to you if you would allow me to join you. But how shall we get across the frontier? It is to be hoped that we shall be allowed to pass quietly as unsuspected merchants.”

“That is not quite so certain; we shall probably not be able to leave India quite as readily as we entered it; but, at any rate, we must try our best. We can reach Peshawar by rail in twelve hours and Quetta in fifteen. Both these lines of railway are not likely at present to be blocked by military trains, but we shall do well to hasten our departure. In all probability we shall, either by way of Peshawar or Quetta, soon meet with Russian troops, for I have no doubt that a Russian army corps is also on the march upon Cabul, although the Colonel, as you say, only spoke of an advance guard moving on Herat.”

“I would suggest that we go by way of Peshawar and the Khyber Pass, because we should thus reach Cabul most speedily and with the greater security.”

“We will talk more of this anon, comrade! At all events, it is settled that we travel together. I hope most fervently that in the great theatre of the world your nation is at this present moment standing shoulder to shoulder with mine against England.”

THE CAPTAIN’S WIFE

As a married man, Captain Irwin was not quartered in one of the wooden barracks of the English camp, but had his own bungalow in the suburbs.

It was a house of one story with a broad verandah, was surrounded by a large well-kept garden, and formerly served a high official of the Maharajah as a residence. Apart from it lay two smaller buildings used as servants’ quarters, of which, however, only one was at present in use.

The sun of that same day, that had brought Hermann Heideck face to face with such momentous matters affecting his future for his final decision, was sinking rapidly into the heavens as he passed through the cactus hedge and bamboo thicket of the garden surrounding Irwin’s bungalow.

He was attired in an evening dress of the lightest black cloth, such as is prescribed by English custom for a visit paid at the dinner-hour in those climes.

He did not come that evening of his own initiative, for Irwin’s morning salutation did not promise anything in the way of an invitation. A letter from Mrs. Irwin had, to his surprise, begged his company at this hour. He had gathered from the tone of the letter that something especially urgent required his presence, and he was not slow in supposing that the reason was the unfortunate party at poker in which the Captain had taken part.

What, however, could have induced Mrs. Irwin to appeal to him was still an enigma, for his relations to the beautiful young wife had until then not been of a confidential nature. He had met her on several occasions in big society functions, at the officers’ polo-parties, and at similar gatherings, and if, attracted by her grace and intellect, he had perhaps paid more attention to the Captain’s wife than to any of the other ladies of the party, their relations had been strictly confined within conventional limits, and it would never have occurred to him to imagine himself specially favoured by Mrs. Irwin.

The dainty Indian handmaid of the lady received him and conducted him to the verandah. Mrs. Irwin, who, dressed in red silk, had been seated in a rocking-chair, advanced a few steps to meet him. Once more Irwin felt himself enchanted by the charm of her appearance.

She was a genuine English beauty of tall and splendid proportions, finely chiselled features, and that white transparent skin which lends to Albion’s daughters their distinctive charm. Abundant dark brown hair clustered in thick, natural folds round the broad forehead, and her blue eyes had the clear, calm gaze of a personality at once intelligent and strong-minded.

At this moment the young wife, whom Heideck had hitherto only known as the placid and unemotional lady of the world, certainly seemed to labour under some excitement, which she could not completely conceal. There was something of embarrassment in the manner with which she received her visitor.

“I am exceedingly obliged to you for coming, Mr. Heideck. My invitation will have surprised you, but I did not know what else to do. Please let us go into the drawing-room; it is getting very chilly outside.”

Heideck did not notice anything of the chilliness of which she complained, but he thought he understood that it was only the fear of eavesdropping that prompted the wish of the young wife. As a matter of fact, she closed the glass door behind him, and motioned him to be seated in one of the large cane chairs before her.

“Captain Irwin is not at home,” she began, evidently struggling with severe embarrassment. “He has ridden off to inspect his squadron, and will not be home, as he told me, before daybreak.”

Heideck did not quite understand why she told him this. Had he been a flirt, convinced of his own irresistibility, he would perhaps have found in her words a very transparent encouragement; but he was far from discerning any such meaning in Edith’s words. The respect in which he had held this beautiful young wife, since the first moment of their acquaintance, sufficiently protected her from any such dishonourable suspicions. That she had bidden him there at a time when she must know that their conversation would not be disturbed by the presence of her husband, must assuredly have had other reasons than the mere desire for an adventure.

And as he saw her sitting before him, with a look of deep distress on her face, there arose in his heart no other than the honest wish to be able to do this poor creature, who was evidently most unhappy, some chivalrous service.

But he had not the courage to suggest anything of the sort before she had given him in an unequivocal way a right to do so. Hence it was that he waited in silence for anything further that she might wish to say. And there was a fairly long and somewhat painful pause before Mrs. Irwin, evidently collecting all her courage, went on: “You witnessed the scene that took place last evening in the officers’ mess between my husband and Captain McGregor? If I have been rightly informed, I owe it solely to you that my husband did not, in the excitement of the moment, lay hand on himself.”

Heideck turned modestly away.

“I did absolutely nothing to give me any claim to your gratitude, Mrs. Irwin, and I do not really believe that your husband would have so far forgot himself as to commit such a silly and desperate deed. At the last moment, a thought of you would certainly have restrained him from taking such a step.”

He was surprised at the expression of disdain which the face of the young wife assumed as he said this, and at the hard ring in her voice, when she replied--

“Thoughts of me? No! how little you know my husband. He is not wont to make the smallest sacrifice for me, and, maybe, his voluntary death would not, after all, be the worst misery he is capable of inflicting on me.”

She saw the look of utter surprise in his eyes, and therefore quickly added--

“You will, I know, consider me the most heartless woman in the world because I can talk to a stranger like this; but is not in your country loss of honour regarded as worse than death?”